Author's Note: Greetings readers! Wishing you all well as the year comes to an end. It is a pleasure to entertain you all as this journey continues for another year! Thank you for all of the love and support you continue to show. This being said, keep an eye out! At the end of chapters, I will now be adding trivia! Scroll down for some fun facts after reading. Take care and enjoy!
~ Sparks
ADVISORY: The following chapter contains sensitive material relating to: Trauma, physical abuse, and violence. Remember to practice self care before, during, and after reading.
Chapter: 132 Wobani
- ACCESSING IMPERIAL NETWORK -
IHC: Imperial High Command to shipping lanes in the Abrion Sector. Your patrols are being reinforced, as you can expect a higher volume of supplies routing to Scarif. New Doonium shipments to be arriving in the coming months. Stay wary. Stay on task.
Kristoff couldn't recall when he'd fallen asleep, only that exhaustion had taken him at one point or another. And as he stirred once more, he was reminded of the stagnant and cramped position he'd been in for hours. Cuffed and forced into an Imperial transport, he and his companions remained at hyperspace's mercy. With the unknown destination of 'R-8' swirling in their minds, they could only hope that sleep would claim them whenever it could.
But tiredness would only take Kristoff so far. The transport consistently rumbled against the back of his skull, forcing his eyes open. And when that incessant rattling wasn't enough, he was pained by the sounds of Dee's whimpers beside him. The detention hold was as echoey as it was shadowy, making her panicked breaths even more haunting. The youth's restraints and wrinkled shirt were stained with vomit, as all she could do was anxiously dry heave the remnants.
"Dee," Captain Lain dared to croak. "Dee-"
"Quiet!" the stormtrooper on duty snapped. He banged his fist against the nearest wall, causing Dee to shudder.
Lain winced, unable to take being restrained as one of his own suffered beside him. "Dee-" he spoke up again. His words caused the trooper to stomp over. Kristoff and Sven braced themselves for the worst as he siezed Lain by the throat. Before the trooper could bark another command, Lain wheezed another utterance. "She's...just a kid."
The trooper's head slowly turned and observed Dee's detrimental state. He slowly released the Pantoran and approached her. Lain's eyes widened, fearing that he'd just sealed Dee's fate. The trooper cautiously observed her and reached for his utility belt. He jabbed his wrist forward, prompting Dee to flinch. Kristoff's heart sank, only to realize that the stormtrooper was holding a kerchief. Although his dabs were rough, he scrubbed the bile from her lips and chin. The trooper returned to his position without a word and left the prisoners to sit dumbfounded.
The others glanced back at Dee, who had briefly calmed down. "It's going to be alright," Lain whispered. "No matter where we go, we stay together." While Kristoff and Sven nodded, Dee found it in herself to meet the captain's gaze. While dreadful memories of Pix's death had her twitching, she fought to stay grounded in the moment. The sudden rocketing of their transport wouldn't give any of Kyber Squad a second thought.
Frequent scrapes struck the transport's hull, making Kristoff wonder what kind of atmosphere they were facing. Although uncomfortable through his restraints, curiosity got the best of him as he craned his neck back. Peering through the transport's narrow slits, Kristoff observed a thick cloud of space dust. Its clustered granules battered against their vessel as they approached a dark world. Its temperate surface was shrouded by the orbiting space dust while the rest was obscured by passing Star Destroyers.
The transport's pilot transmitted clearance codes while observing coordinates on a flight grid. Once clearing 'R-8' from the hyperspace trajectory, the pilot proceeded with landing operations.
"Stay together," Lain murmured under his breath. "No matter what."
As the transport landed on its designated platform, several troopers joined the one on guard. Only once their blasters were aimed at the prisoners were any restraints removed. "Step forward," the lead trooper ordered. "Out to the ramp. Now."
Even as a prisoner, Lain held himself as captain. The Pantoran led the way, leaving Dee to stagger behind him. Kristoff followed to watch her back as Sven brought up the rear. Upon exiting the transport, Kyber Squad found themselves challenged by a war of noises. Raucous machinery challenged chilling gusts for auditory supremacy. The nauseating scent of smog reached their noses as they were marched towards an assembly. With several similar transports, it appeared as though other prisoners had been round up for a similar purpose.
Contrary to the stormtroopers who had brought Kyber Squad, those awaiting the transports were tainted with mud. The sludge of this ravaged planet had crusted over their boots and was even nestled into some of their ventilators. As the prisoners were lined up, they found themselves intertwined with another group. Lain glanced over, observing a shivering...fellow Pantoran at his side. Unlike Lain, this Pantoran had tattooed over his facial markings again...replacing their yellow hue with a shadowy black.
"Where are we?" Lain whispered, hoping to get some intel.
"Hell," the tattooed Pantoran murmured. He glanced up at the dreary and smoggy skies. "Don't bother making peace. The Moon Goddess has abandoned us, brother."
"Fall in for inspection!" a captain brayed. Despite his armor being muddied, he was sure to keep his ranked pauldron presentable. He passed each prisoner by alongside a datapad-wielding lieutenant. With each decree the captain made, his partner recorded it for their archive. "Labor," he said while passing by the tattooed Pantoran. On his order, a trooper shoved the prisoner towards a titanic vehicle. This ten-wheeled monstrosity had an extended ramp for prisoners to ascend. "Labor," the captain ordered after looking over Lain. Even as he was taken away, Lain kept glancing back at the rest of his squad. For anyone that wasn't told 'labor' they were simply gathered opposite of the vehicle. It wasn't long before Lain realized those being gathered were either sickly or elderly. His heart sank as the captain looked over Dee. Any attempt to keep watching was thwarted as a trooper shoved him onward.
Dee gulped as the official looked her over. He started to lift his hand towards the other group when a trooper groaned, "That little womp rat nearly took my hand off on the ride here." The captain glanced over, as the same trooper who'd wiped her vomit stepped forward. "Kid's got fight in her."
"Back in line, trooper," the captain barked before returning his glare to Dee. With a disgusted scoff he grumbled, "Labor." As Dee was ushered away, the captain approached Kristoff and Sven. Given their bold physiques, he easily assigned them to labor. As they stepped closer to the ten-wheeler, Kristoff noticed something...familiar about its design. He'd seen countless images of them during the days of the Republic, especially in military assemblies. All Kristoff could do was shake his head as he recognized the repurposed turbo tank. Once used to transport countless clones across perilous battlefields, the Empire had now turned the vehicles into prisoner carriers.
They were nearly onboard when a sharp trill had Sven's ear twitching. As Kristoff and Sven briefly glanced back, they watched as the remaining stormtroopers became a firing squad...executing those they'd deemed unfit for labor. As if the sight wasn't frightening enough, Kristoff found his lack of a reaction most unsettling. The fact that he'd become so numbed to their predicament, that seeing more executions barely made him shudder...had him hanging his head.
From cuffs to more cuffs, the prisoners were loaded into rows upon rows within the turbo tank. Far worse than any turbulent flight, the ten-wheeler had its occupants bobbing about across the muddied terrain. In time, the smell of petroleum and sounds of grinding gears practically assaulted all senses. Even as the turbo tank powered down, no occupant could find relief from the cacophony.
The prisoners were emptied in waves and guided down to a muddy assembly area. While expansive fences lined it, tremendous drills towered just behind them. Smoke billowed through the machinations down to ground level, and Kristoff could make out silhouettes toiling just beyond the fences. These tired beings worked the drills and hauled excavation equipment. When they would glance over at the newest inmates, only their eyes could be visible beyond thick layers of mud and tar. The prisoners were unanimous blobs, clustered in their corrals and forced into submission.
The captain returned, this time to cull his new herd. "On program!" he roared as if anyone knew what that meant. "On program! Eyes front, hands on head, legs apart...no movement!"
The prisoners were hardly given time to respond before rifles were aimed at them. They rushed to conform as a brisk gust struck their faces. With the group assembled and 'on program'...the captain's work was done. He stepped aside, making way for silver-coated individual to come forth.
While those serving under him coped with the planet's mud, he couldn't be bothered by it. His uniform was so pristine, that when a chunk of mining debris reached his cape's fur trim, he was quick to flick it off. Whatever purity remained on his pale face, while his black hairs were trying to stay relevant in a forest of grey. His age would've been significantly more noticeable, had it not been for his eyes. A pair of blood red, cybernetic eyes buzzed with each shift of their artificial pupils. His unblinking gaze was as twisted as it was fiery, scanning over the prisoners...probing them for weaknesses. When he finally spoke, he watched for those it startled.
"I am Warden Hyren," he made his deathly declaration. The likes of which would've been thought to make the machines themselves come to a halt. "Welcome to Wobani. The only reason any of you are alive to hear me is because you've been deemed labor-worthy. For those unfamiliar with this planet, it was not always ours. It belonged to a savage and ungrateful rabble. Of whom abused their privileges and defied the Empire. Listen very carefully. There is a natural order to this galaxy and those who do not fall in, fall off. It really is that simple. Stay in your lane, do as we say, and stars willing this shall be the only time you ever see my face." With a resigned huff, Hyren uttered "Dismissed" and the assembly was pushed forward.
Before being led into the labor corral, prisoners were gathered in a rectangular compound. Under guard, troopers commanded their captives to pass through a whirring scanner. While he wasn't complaining, it surprised Lain that they weren't being required to strip down and change into some form of prison garbs. Whatever harsh conditions the facility was experiencing, supplies was certainly a failing commodity. Even the weapons scanner buzzed and clacked as if it hadn't been well maintained in years. Troopers plucked any small items and potential shivs that they'd missed frisking during the flights before sending their prisoners into the corral.
Labor was all that mattered to the Empire. As males, females, and the gender non-conforming were lumped together to serve whatever they needed. Upon entering the expansive and filthy corral, troopers passed personal drilling devices to each prisoner before returning to guard the perimeter. Glancing upward, Kristoff could see sentries posted at towers along the fences.
Realizing that the new prisoners were left to fend for themselves, an older inmate took it upon himself to step forward. Hobbling from his faltering formation of inmates, he greeted the newcomers with a gentle wave. In many ways, the Empire relied on compliant old-timers like him to keep the younger inmates conforming. And it was for this reason that they let him keep his translating vocoder. The poorly-maintained device fizzed against the Ithorian's twitching, elongated mouths. Yet despite his discomfort, the calm elder squinted for a better look at the fresh faces. His eyestalks were strained and goopy as he still found it in him to say, "Our group just found a doonium vein. Help us dig it out and it ought to keep the Empire out of your business. At least for a little while." Without much of an option, Kristoff and Sven got to work. Pressing their drills into the sinking terrain, they followed the Ithorian's guidance. "Pull down on those red tabs to excavate," he explained. "The central, blue button will extract any doonium you come across and store it in your drill."
Lain checked on Dee first and foremost, who was still shaken from her experiences leading to the prison. His presence brought her a semblance of comfort as they started digging together.
"You new folks are here just in time," the Ithorian professed while drilling. "This doonium haul will be our biggest yet."
Kristoff recalled briefly how Anna's lightsaber had been made of doonium. Trying not to dwell on her, he focused on the task at hand and excavated near the vein. Though Dee struggled to keep lifting her drill back and forth, Lain would occasionally help guide it into her steadying hands.
"Nicely done!" the Ithorian grunted as the group drilled together. "A little more to the left," he encouraged Kristoff while eyeing Sven. "You're a natural, big fella."
"You're in surprisingly bright spirits," Kristoff huffed. "Given where we are."
"For some of us-" the Ithorian murmured. "-sulking about isn't an option. Name's Benigodo. But please call me Beni. The Empire likes to keep me around to 'improve morale'."
"Does it work?" Kristoff inquired.
"Beni!" a shockingly youthful voice called out. "Beni! Beni! Beni!" Kristoff and the other newcomers were stunned to see a prisoner even younger than Dee emerge from the deposit's adjacent side. A Twi'lek child, whose scarlet skin had been coated in dark splotches of tar, came dashing over. She nearly tripped through sheer excitement, but the elder was quick to catch her. As if her enthusiasm wasn't astounding enough, it was devastating to see a literal child toiling in an Imperial labor camp. But with aching knees and bandaged hands, the Twi'lek persisted. "I struck a whole chunk!" she cheered. "A whole chunk of doonium!"
Her widening grin persisted through her soot-stained face as the adults around her slaved away. "That's fantastic Little Tooka," Beni admired and patted her head. "That's more than my wrinkly behind could find!" He relished in making the child giggle. "But look around," he warned...gesturing to Kyber Squad and the other inmates. "I've got a whole new team to help me catch up to you!"
"Not on your life!" Tooka challenged before sprinting away to keep mining.
As soon as she was gone, the group unearthed their doonium vein. Far greater than any chunk that child had found, they worked together to load them onto a nearby landspeeder. The stormtrooper at its controls impatiently swished his hand, urging the inmates to move quicker. "A good haul indeed," Beni said as they loaded their haul. While doing so, he took a moment to speak alongside Kyber Squad. "Whatever you folks do...lose your strength, lose your fight, lose some sleep...but-" The Ithorian sighed and glanced back at Tooka over by the other pit. "Don't lose yourselves in here. That's all we have." While the group thought on his words, the tattooed Pantoran could only scoff at them.
"H- how long have you been in here?" Dee asked.
Beni squinted briefly, scratching at his eyestalks while pondering. "Going on a little over five years."
A wave of nausea struck the pit of Dee's stomach as she imagined growing old in the labor camp. Lain, Sven, and Kristoff exchanged brief glances...as if telling each other that such a life wasn't even an option. Still, they had to play smart and learn the lay of the land if they were to formulate an escape.
There was no telling how many hours of work had passed in the camp. When the sky wasn't naturally cloudy, dust and plenty of pollution clogged up whatever visibility remained. The only telltale sign of a 'break' came from the corral's blaring siren. Upon hearing the alarm, working prisoners were to return all excavating equipment to designated slots and report to an assembly in a secondary area. As they filed out, they were put 'on program' while a fresh group of prisoners took their place to mine. The labor camp was a ceaseless machine, constantly churning out results through cycled prisoners.
With hunger and dehydration prying at their bodies, Kyber Squad could hardly stand as they assembled on program. Even being in the shape he was, Kristoff's arms ached as he raised them behind his head and nearly stumbled to lean on Sven. Dee's trembling legs looked as though they'd snap while Lain had developed an occasional cough. Yet despite their hindrances, the group tried to hold as still as possible for when the stormtroopers observed their lines.
Once they were cleared, a repulsorlifted unit was guided into the center. Although barely odorous, a singular sort of slop had been set out for the inmates. Seasoned prisoners were quick to grab their share of food while the newcomers slowly figured out what was going on. Kristoff and Sven exchanged grimaces as they salvaged trays of the so-called nourishment. Thinking back to their nomadic days on Aren, they were no strangers to scavenging whatever food they could find. However, they weren't expected to work for hours on end with only whatever gruel this was to keep them going. With deep breaths, they downed the gooey mounds...only to experience grotesque crunchiness just beneath its surface. Bitterness meshed with a soggy, salty layer as prisoners rushed to swallow. No matter how awful the food was, Lain still took it upon himself to shovel a chunk of his ration on to Dee's plate.
She glanced at him with disbelief as his stare was insisting enough. "Thank you, captain," she murmured.
A harsh cackle had Lain glancing rightward. The tattooed Pantoran inhaled his ration and scoffed, "Give it a week and you'll be stealing food off of her plate."
"You worry about your own dealings," Lain fired back. "Plenty there to keep you busy-" He paused, having nothing to call the man.
"Gratigo," he hissed. "And you?" Lain didn't even bother, making Gratigo roll his eyes.
Age was catching up with Beni. The old Ithorian cracked his back while shoveling down slop. As Tooka approached, he was quick to straighten his posture and hide all evidence of aching. "Little Tooka!" he rejoiced through a grumbling stretch. "How's your Funfood?"
"Icky as always," the Twi'lek snickered while kicking her feet next to him. "Are they ever gonna fix the machine so food can actually be fun again?"
"I don't think so," Beni jested. "Especially after the emperor's announcement this morning." The child leaned in as he exaggerated his dramatics. "Emperor Palpatine said that he's keeping all of the really good Funfood to himself. And Warden Hyen gets the extra spicy flavored Funfood!" Playing in to Tooka's gasp, Beni put his arm around her and whispered, "That's why he's always so grumpy."
"That explains a lot," Tooka lamented. "I'd rather eat this than the spicy Funfood."
As Kristoff observed their exchange, he found a moment of comfort betwixt their harsh reality. This sensation was coupled with a sudden bout of hearty laughter. "Congratulations!" a bold voice declared. A series of slow claps had new heads turning to a surprisingly flabby Rodian as he hobbled towards the group. His droopy, grimy snout still found a way to a wobbly grin as he gestured to his audience. "Not bad for your first day on Wobani, if I do say so myself." He squinted, turning his bulbous eyes into sleek...black slits. Scanning the group, he focused on the bulkier inmates. "I dare say that some of you are perfect, Rancor material."
Kristoff raised a brow and then caught Beni shaking his head cautiously in the distance. The Ithorian put a protective arm around Little Tooka and guided her away from the conversation. "Rancor?" Gratigo sputtered, his mouth still dripping with slop. "Have you gone mental, mate?"
The Rodian's ensuing laugh was as boisterous as it was guttural. "Ohoho where are my manners? You fledglings have just dipped your toes in the mud around here. Call me Jub. And I represent a very important investment during your stay. At least for you stronger folks that is." Jub chuckled when he noticed some of the other prisoners worriedly looking around as he spoke. "No need to fret, my friends. The Empire isn't listening, because the Empire doesn't care. All they have to do is make sure we get our work done and don't escape. They don't care about how we live in these corrals. So you get to decide how that state of living ends up."
"What do you mean?" a Snivvian prisoner snorted.
"Every community has standards," Jub continued. "And the Rancors demonstrate the best of the best. Joining us means getting the best sleeping spots, working shifts, and...guaranteed protection. Why not make your stay on Wobani the most comfortable it can be?" Jub smirked, relishing in how he could see new prisoners talking amongst themselves. Having made his picks already, he advanced towards a brawny Nikto. "What do you say, my dear?" She quickly nodded and joined behind Jub. Moving onward, the Rodian approached Gratigo.
"You had me at best of the best," the Pantoran grinned.
"Thataboy," Jub rejoiced and rubbed his back. "Welcome to the Rancors." His eyes widened as he observed Sven. "Now now now...I've never seen something...someone as imposing as you before. We'd love you in our ranks." Sven's side-eye towards Kristoff didn't go unnoticed as the Rodian smirked. "Now don't get so stingy. I had my eyes on 'muscles' over here as well. You two would be fine additions."
Kristoff stood tall, still scrubbing chunks of mud from his face. "Sounds pretty exclusive," he answered. "Probably too exclusive for our friends, I take it."
Jub followed Kristoff's nod to Lain and Dee. He laughed off their very existences and put a hand on Kristoff's shoulder. "Well, I'll give you credit where credit is due. We are exclusive, you've got that part right. But those two wouldn't last in our ranks."
"Then no deal," Kristoff confirmed without a second thought. "It's that simple."
Jub paused, his twitchy smile faltering. "N-now hold on just a moment." Jub didn't even bother lowering his voice when speaking about prison conditions. "I admire your commitment to one another. But you need a real family. It'd be a miracle if weaklings like them, be too young or old...even last a few weeks in here. Be smart about this, friend."
"We aren't friends," Kristoff asserted. He took a step back, letting Jub's suction-cupped digits pluck off of his shoulder.
The Rodian's jovial demeanor cracked, yet he forced a continued grin. "You'll wish we were," Jub jeered, shaking his head as Sven planted his hooves by Kristoff. "Sweet dreams tonight...family man." As Jub turned, he bumped shoulders with another passing prisoner. She didn't stagger on impact, and instead turned to lock eyes with him head on. Her green stare was icy beneath disheveled, dark brown strands. "Something you wanna say?" Jub threatened as the brunette stayed silent. While she didn't speak up, she kept staring and let him break eye contact first.
As Jub moved on to prod others to join the Rancors, Kristoff and Sven regrouped with their friends. "You didn't have to do that," Lain whispered.
"As if we'd actually go with that scumbag," Kristoff answered. "Have more faith in us, captain. You said we stay together, and that's what we're gonna do." Dee flashed a soft smile, finding relief that they weren't splitting up. While Lain sought his own comfort in their unity, he constantly kept observing their surroundings...as if formulating a plan of his own.
It appeared as thought the Rancors were a little more than all talk. Those who'd joined Jub during the intermission had managed to reach what cleaner quarries existed. With groups made of primarily powerful individuals, they could easily harvest and accomplish whatever the Empire asked of them. Meanwhile, Kyber Squad and other corrals found themselves falling behind in scarce veins, knee deep in Wobani's gunk and inhaling slivers of hardly-polluted air where they could find them. When the final alerts rang out to signify the end of their shift, it was nothing short of a miracle.
Placed on program, inmates were led to the 'Grand Corral.' This tremendous stretch of loamy terrain was comprised of poorly made tents which only housed a portion of Wobani's prisoners. Overcrowded beyond compare, the Empire was almost counting on some of its inmates to die had it not been for quotas it needed to meet. Those who weren't sheltered under tents, clustered in their own...unsanitary huddles. These pits were personally dug out, and often relied on inmates of a larger species to function as warm bodies. The stench of such an expanse was unbearable to newcomers, with seasoned prisoners being completely desensitized to the odor. Stormtroopers were constantly double checking their helmet filtration units before setting foot on such a parasitic premises.
As darkness swept over the landscape, Beni knelt beside Tooka and wrapped her in a stained blanket. He situated them just outside one of the tents as he always had, so he could fully keep an eye on her. Gently caressing her scrawny lekku, the old Ithorian patted her head.
"Beni," the child yawned. "Can you tell me another story about your planet?"
Beni chuckled. "You know everything about it by now, Little Tooka."
"Then tell me again. Tell me about the trees."
Beni sighed and cuddled in next to her. Wrapping his long and gangly arms around the Twi'lek, he shut his eyestalks. She closed his eyes so they could drift into imagination together, away from the prison and far beyond Wobani's clouds. "Ithor is a paradise..." Beni began. "When I was your age, I would scurry through its vast jungles and climb every tree I could."
"How big were the trees?" Tooka asked.
"Like buildings," Beni whispered. "Bigger than any tower or fence you see here. And mightier than any drill. Bold leaves and proud branches that reached to skies bluer than anything you've ever seen."
"I wanna go there someday," Tooka mumbled...her speech slurring as she drifted to sleep.
"We can go anywhere we want, little one," Beni assured, even as the sounds of suffering echoed throughout the camp. "Anywhere...we want. The galaxy is ours." His vocoder powered down as he too fell asleep, cradling the child as his own.
Several feet from them, Kyber Squad had worked together to dig their own sleeping trench. Laying out the only tattered tarp they could salvage, the group agreed to prioritize Dee sleeping in the center of it. As her and Sven found slumber, Kristoff stared at the skies above.
"You know-" he whispered to Lain while fiddling with his necklace. "No matter how hopeless things felt back on Aren, I could always still stargaze at night. It made me feel like there was still a chance out there. Like all we had to do was escape, and that I could see how many worlds were just waiting beyond our own. But here-" Kristoff huffed and glared and the smog-filled air. "I can't even see a single star."
Lain was at a loss for words. For as a Pantoran, his people worshipped the moon. Unable to even bare witness to the symbol of his faith, he knew his commentary would only bring morale down further. Instead, he observed Kristoff's kyber crystal and changed the subject. "Did you ever know any of them?" he asked. Kristoff looked puzzled until Lain pointed to the necklace. "The Jedi?"
Kristoff swallowed hard, bringing his focus to Lain instead of the bleak clouds. "A few," he professed.
"What would they say in a 'hopeless' time like this?"
"It depends," Kristoff admitted. "You know, a lot of people looked to the Jedi as symbols of hope. But after the Empire, they were never the same."
"How could they be?" Lain answered. "How could anyone? In fact, how could any of us end up being any semblance of alright after what the Empire has done? The Jedi might've been heroes, Kristoff. But they were still just...people. People who bend, break, rebuild and break again. The Jedi Order. The Republic. The Rebellion. We like to idolize these things that we'll never fully grasp because it makes us feel safe." Kristoff pursed his lips as the captain's words sunk in. "Remember this, Kristoff. Whether there's a return of the Jedi or not...When the Empire falls, it will be defeated by imperfect people." Kristoff slowly nodded as Lain pointed again. "Don't let that crystal stand for perfection. Let it be redemption. Now get some sleep, soldier." The Pantoran turned over as Kristoff was left to clasp his necklace. As he sank into the trench, he let his heavy eyes get the best of him and followed into the darkness of slumber.
Any prisoner was lucky to find sleep with constant work in the camps. One could only hope that tiredness would kick in and overwhelm the aches and anxieties felt. Under such extreme conditions, it was easy for prisoners to find themselves hallucinating. Yet no amount of fear nor malnutrition could conjure up the mass of silhouettes lurking in the dark.
They moved in clustered packs, traveling along the corral's perimeters and slowly boxing in the center. With the shadows advancing, one figure towered over all of them. Its proud, muscular stature found definition in whatever sliver of light could reach it. With a jab of its forearm, the titan issued its command. The shadows slowly broke off from the main group and began drifting towards individual dwellings. A mumbling prisoner stirred among those in his tent and scrubbed his groggy eyes. Confused by the tromping of boots, he peeked outside for a closer look. By the time he glimpsed the anonymous horde, a fist had already darted towards his face. With another silent command, the leader sent its dark mass charging towards the unsuspecting prisoners.
Tussels broke out across the corral as tents became fight zones. Fists flew as grunts and yelps echoed throughout the night. Kristoff gasped himself awake to the sound of a collapsing tent and rose from their trench. The rest of Kyber Squad stirred, struggling to see through the darkness.
"What's going on?" Kristoff uttered as Sven leaned over him. "Is it the Empire?"
"I can't tell," Lain murmured and pressed back on Dee's shoulder. "Stay down. We-" While their heads were turned towards one of the nearby fights, an unseen assailant attacked from behind. He pounced on Sven's back and immediately pulled down on his antlers.
"Sven!" Kristoff cried out as the squad rallied to his aid.
With a proud snort, Sven bucked the attacker off of him and Kristoff kicked him away. As the man struggled to rise, Sven struck him again for good measure. Barely able to see who had attacked, the group could only make out his civilian attire.
"I think he's...a prisoner?" Kristoff realized, only to hear the skidding of several boots. Before they knew it, the trench was overrun with faceless attackers.
Dee screamed impulsively as Lain put himself in front of her. Desperation kicked in as the group fought to survive. Fists flailed through the shadows, landing hits wherever they could. At one point Kristoff accidentally struck the trench wall, thinking it was a fallen person. Groaning from the impact, he staggered directly into someone's headlock.
"Loot'em!" his foe grunted while pulling Kristoff back. Amid the fray, other thieves scrambled through the dirt to salvage whatever limited resources Kyber Squad possessed.
Determined to protect his team, Lain threw himself at their enemies but missed. He winced upon hitting the ground, and instantly felt the gang's repetitive strikes against his torso. His ailing wheeze had one of them cackling until Sven charged over. Blood spurted across the muck, as one of the Cevrian's antlers gashed across a thief's arm. It was enough to scare him off and put the rest on the defensive. As Lain came to his senses, a sharp clang coupled with a heavy thud nearby.
Meanwhile, Kristoff's assailant continued to tighten his grip. With his breaths shortening, he exasperatedly elbowed his attacker until they were forced to let go. Kristoff didn't even bother fighting the unseen target, and instead crawled his way through the shadows to just get some air back. The disturbing scuffles had erupted into all out brawls, of which caused more tents to fall over entirely. Durasteel poles clanged as prisoners beat each other with them while others looted and fled.
Waking up Tooka, Beni didn't bother to take her hand. Instead, the Ithorian scooped up the child and covered her in the blanket. "What's going on?" she worried.
"Close your eyes, Tooka." Beni asserted as his eyestalks frantically scoured the chaos for safety. "Close your eyes and don't open them. I mean it!" His vocoder screeched and buzzed with his nervous tone. The elder didn't get far before two men skidded in front of him. Kicking up grime, the sinister duo's glares were only made clear by Beni's flickering vocoder. Its yellow audio streams pulsed with each of the Ithorian's heavy breaths. "We have nothing to offer you," he said. "Please, leave us alone."
"The vocoder," the first man hissed. "Hand it over. Now."
"I-..." Beni mumbled while keeping Tooka secure. "I need it to speak."
"Tough luck," the second scoffed while raising a scavenged tentpole. "You can talk your hammerhead gibberish just fine without it."
"Give it!" the first barked. When Beni didn't budge, he motioned to his pole-wielding friend. "Take the kid. Then we'll see how reluctant he is."
"No!" Beni gasped as the thieves advanced. In that instant, a third shadow swiftly descended on the group. With a furious kick, it dead-legged the second man. As he dropped, this figure was quick to disarm him of the pole and swing it against his face. As he dropped, the savior took her fight to the first man. Showing little remorse, she relentless bludgeoned him with the pole until its tip dented. As Beni backed away and Tooka emerged from her blanket, they observed the shadow who had saved them. Stepping into the flickering light of his vocoder, the quiet brunette squinted towards them.
"Are you alright?" she asked. All Beni could do was cautiously nod as he realized how close he came to losing Tooka...let alone his own life.
The madness began to fade across camp, as the Imperial patrols finally took it upon themselves to intervene. Sirens blared long after the carnage had run its course. "On program!" stormtroopers yelled, calling for order while shooting up flares. Their flickering, scarlet lights illuminated the devastation across the corral. Bruised and beaten bodies writhed throughout the mud. Some lay motionless entirely...their limbs still trapped under fallen tents.
"Well done, Rancors!" a guttural voice cheered. "Well done!" As Kristoff rubbed his aching neck, he looked out to see Jub slowly clapping for a group carrying bushels of loot. Tools, blankets, and other loose items jingled in their arms as these thieves united under the flare's blood-red glow. They rallied to their strongest figure...their titan...and cheered over the spoils of their raid.
And as Kristoff stared out across the flare-lit hellscape, he sunk into a far more dreadful reality. For standing atop the ruins of a toppled tent was a woman of mighty physique. And while age and prison conditions had strived to break her, no force could crack her own brutality. Her sheer determination to survive at anyone's expense...her willingness to lead by all means. So much had changed since the Jedi Temple, and yet there she stood. "Rancors!" Lyn Ferix roared. Her eyes were wild under the flare's crimson hue. "Glory to the strong!" She raised her blood-stained fist as her followers cheered around her. They applauded for as long as they could before stormtroopers descended to put the entire corral on program.
As Kristoff still came to terms with Lyn's presence, he suddenly heard Lain's painful cries. "No!" the Pantoran shouted. "No! No! Nooo! I need a light! Please!"
Sven and Kristoff returned to the trench while Beni told Tooka to wait topside. After calmly telling her to go on program, the Ithorian descended into the trench. Using the dim light of his vocoder, he helped illuminate Lain where he could. Only then did Kristoff's heart sink at the sight. Lain's worst fears were confirmed as he held Dee's limp body in his arms. He thought about the sharp clang he'd heard...likely the strike of a tentpole...and then matched it to the devastatingly dark bruise across her forehead. "Dee?" he whispered, dirt and sweat splattered across his face. "Come on, Dee...please. Stay awake. Stay-" Lain froze as he removed the hand cradling her head. His blue palm was coated in fresh blood, of which had formed a dark puddle beneath her. Doing his best to keep it together as captain, Lain couldn't hold back his tears. Hugging Dee's corpse as his mustache trembled, he unleashed a broken shout. The Pantoran's voice cracked as his wrists gave out. "She's just a kid," he sobbed. "She's just a kid!"
Sven called out in mourning as Kristoff stepped away. Before they knew it, stormtroopers had their trench surrounded and were shouting for them to get on program. Lain barely found it in himself to stand with his only remaining soldiers. And as Kristoff placed his hands on his head, his eyes alternated between the troopers, the Rancors, and Dee's body. As pain, disbelief, and frustration clashed together, a furious tear rolled down his cheek.
Trivia:
- The planet Wobani first appeared in the 2016 film Rogue One (A Star Wars Story). It is a blend of the words Obi-wan and Kenobi.
- Lyn Ferix first appeared in The Frozen Force Season 3 Chapter - 67: The Anna-Lorian.
- "On Program" is an Imperial prison phrase first coined from the 2022 Star Wars Series: Andor.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading this week's chapter of "The Frozen Force." I'll see you next time for (Chapter 133 - Savages)
Long Live Imagination and May the Force Be With You,
~ Sparks