ADVISORY:The following chapter contains sensitive material relating to: Depression, mutilation, murder, brutal violence, blood, knives, and major character death. Remember to practice self care before, during, and after reading.
Chapter: 144 Heroes of Hell
- ACCESSING IMPERIAL NETWORK -
IHC: Imperial High Command to all units in the Palum Sector. By order of the Emperor, all military operations on Avinaria are to cease immediately. Reroute to Coruscant for debrief and new orders. All units in the Terrabe Sector, a bulletin has been posted based on a rogue cargo ship's trajectory. The location and capture of pilot, Bodhi Rook is of the utmost importance. Have wanted holos placed across every outpost in the sector.
"We tunnel...The Grand Corral is so disease-ridden, that the Empire doesn't even enter unless it has to. This debris from last night's fight is the key to it all. Every night, we'll dig. Not in massive chunks, but little by little. And we'll cover our tunnel with this tarp. I know it seems insane, but this...is our only way out."
Those words were meant for Captain Lain himself as much as they were for his team of survivors. This plan. This one way out...was all that kept any of them going. Days in the Wobani camp were pointless, as many found themselves zoning out. Much like their Imperial captors, the group kept their heads down. They ignored the horrendous sounds of the Rancors for weeks on end. And while the prison gang left them alone, dissociation was common. Days would either speed by or stretch on through an eternal hell. Yet through this pain, the team remained focused. Every night they'd take turns slowly chiseling and digging beneath the tarp of their trench. Some nights yielded more time, but many were lost to wandering eyes. They couldn't take any chances, even if it meant going a week without digging. From the plan's conception, digging truly felt fruitless. But with each passing chance, a tunnel started to form.
This tunnel was their only hope and salvation. Lain wouldn't let a prison nor his rising sickness rob him of who he was. He was a captain of the Rebel Alliance, and he'd do everything possible to save lives. As the tunnel lengthened, work on it shortened. Those digging it out took longer to return to the trench and empty the rubble from their pockets. Making a move every other week, the group would try and salvage at least one extra tool from the labor corrals. Anything from tentpoles to weathered excavation drills would be used to support the tunnel's mucky ceiling. As its path narrowed, Sven and Kristoff couldn't crawl all the way back without striking the sides. Beni worried every time, but Little Tooka became the only one who could speed rubble back. No one questioned the Twi'lek child's resolve. They only regretted her ever having to witness such horrors. No child should've ever had to. No matter the camp's atrocities, the group understood their reality. Either they dug themselves out, or no one was ever leaving that camp.
Had it not been for the idle snark from stormtroopers guarding the Grand Corral, Lain would've never figured out how long they'd been digging. Learning they'd been there for nearly four months was as terrible as it was empowering. Each was clinging to hope in the other, and their tunnel was nearly complete.
"Mr. Lain?" Tooka's voice echoed in the back of the Pantoran's mind. "Mr. Lain?"
He snapped himself back into the moment. "Hm?" he was able to croak after another coughing fit. Tooka had just finished crawling her way out of the tunnel. Guarded by their tarp and the cover of a rainy night, she started to empty her pockets of dirt and stone.
"I got a bunch that time," she whispered. My chisel's getting worn down, but we gotta be close. We gotta be!"
"Shhh," old Beni shushed. The Ithorian helped Kristoff and Sven gather her rubble.
"Right," Tooka hushed. "Sorry. Just got excited."
"She has a point," Kristoff said. "We're getting far down there. We might be further than we know."
"We get one shot at this," Lain muttered. "We've got to be sure. Otherwise we could dig ourselves just beyond the barriers, or into another corral."
"But what if this is our chance?" Kristoff insisted. "We don't know how much longer any of us has in this place. Your sickness is getting worse too. We need to make our move-"
"Enough," Lain wheezed into a cough. He crouched down and stared into the shadowy tunnel. With limited light, the group had been using a single power cell to illuminate the furthest end of the tunnel. Seeing the device as a flickering speck gave Lain hope. He had to slow his raspy breaths as eagerness clawed its way to him. Calming himself, he said, "One more night. If we can just dig a little further, I'll feel more confident with it."
"I think I can make one more run tonight," Tooka insisted.
"Very good," Lain answered.
"Not without water you don't," Beni interjected. The Ithorian knelt beside Tooka and lowered his hands. He'd cupped just enough rainwater to keep the child going as she saluted Lain.
"Brave kid," Kristoff remarked as she crawled back in. Shifting focus to his captain, Kristoff reiterated. "Tomorrow has to be the night. We can't lose anymore time."
Lain sighed, only to have his cough overwhelm him. "You're right," he confessed. We need to start going over our plan of escape. Sven, Beni, and Kristoff leaned in as Lain slightly raised his whisper. "Once we reach the outside, the first person through...no matter who, needs to start running. Stay low, but put this place as far behind you as possible. Don't think about anyone else in this group-" Lain didn't need lighting to know his companions were concerned. "Hear me first," he asserted. "We-" Lain battled his cough to carry the truth onward. "We need to acknowledge that all of us may not make it out of here. If we're spotted...If an alarm sounds. You keep running. You go contact the Rebellion and get help. All we need is for one person to make it out of here. I need you all to understand this. If one person gets out, we win."
Lain's peers were silent at first, taking in the gravity of his words. "Your orders are final," Kristoff concurred. "But we are getting out of here. All of us."
Lain found comfort in his conviction. His filthy, violet mustache curved with his grin. It had only grown bushier over the months as a full beard accompanied it. "Copy that, soldier," he whispered.
Little Tooka's crawl only lengthened with each dig. With chisel in mouth, she passed through the shadows and focused on the light beyond. Muck clung to Tooka's tired knees as she pushed on. While she traversed the tunnel, she could hear the muffled machinery from dig teams in other corrals. She found reassurance in the fact that these sounds silenced over time. Tooka might've been underground, but she had to believe they'd passed the barriers. Grubs and inky millipedes wriggled between her fingers as she advanced to the end. Basking in the power cell's dwindling glow, she clung to it for brief warmth.
Spitting the chisel into her hands, Tooka continued to dig. Her tired, scarlet arms persisted through dust and stone. Any rubble found its way into her pockets as she quickly resumed work. Tooka willed herself to go on, keeping freedom in mind. She let her mind wander just as it did during the day. She visualized Ithor, and the spectacular...tall tree forests Beni told her about. Her vigor proved helpful as she observed several cracks against a layer of stone.
Such an obstacle was nothing she hadn't dealt with before. Starting at the stronger points, she leveled out the layer before breaking it down further. The cracks deepened, bringing a smile to Tooka's face. Her weary eyes livened as several crunches sounded. She followed a web of ensuing cracks as they extended above her. She shuffled back as quickly as possible, but the cave-in had already commenced.
Back in the trench, Lain's condition only worsened. Each cough was more taxing than its predeccesor. His eyes would water and redden while it felt like his lungs were aflame. He'd nearly lost his footing when Kristoff and Sven helped him back up. "Hang in there, captain." Kristoff said. "One more night."
The dust settled as Tooka winced with pain. She'd tried to fully crawl away in time, but the tunnel had collapsed on itself. Several of the faulty supports had finally given out, causing several chunks of rubble to pin Tooka's legs. While she'd had no problem crawling through the tunnel, being pinned prompted a different form of chaos. Her breaths shortened in the fading light. The power cell had been damaged, leaving its cracked casing to flicker in the dark. Tooka initially silenced all willingness to scream. She didn't know who would hear, nor who would even come. As desperation reached her, the words fled on their own. "H-...help," she blurted. "Help! Please!" the child wailed, tears puddling in her eyes.
"Once you're free-" Lain began. "Will you serve again?"
Kristoff took his time to answer. But as the realization grew within, he knew his only answer. "By any means," he insisted.
"Even after all of this?" the Pantoran asked.
Kristoff's nod was stern and dutiful. No newfound beard could shroud the chiseled recruit Lain had found. "Me staying out of the fight won't stop it from happening elsewhere. I'm willing to bet the Empire has countless prisons just like this. If I can stop this by any means, I will."
"Good man," Lain said. "The Rebellion is lucky to have you, and I'm honored to have met you."
Kristoff simpered at the sentiment. As he sought to return the gesture, Sven's ears suddenly twitched. Doing his best to keep it down, the Cevrian started snorting profusely. He dropped towards the tunnel while the rest feared the worst.
"What? What is it?" Kristoff sputtered until Beni raised a hand.
"Everyone quiet!" The Ithorian whispered sharply. As the group leaned into the tunnel's mouth, they noticed the power cell's light had diminished. And along with its fading light came an echoing scream. The likes of which had Beni practically throwing himself into the tunnel. "Tooka!" he accidentally yelled. Lain wanted to keep them quiet, but terror was gripping him as well. The Ithorian could hardly fit through the tunnel, especially with how exasperatedly he was crawling.
"Beni, stop!" Lain scolded and pulled his elder out by the legs. "Stop!"
Beni's vocoder was strobing out of control as he tried to form words. "She needs me!"
Being of a thinner build, Kristoff slid into the tunnel. With the desperation of it all came the struggle to remain covert. "Tooka!" Kristoff hollered back. "Hang on, I'm coming!" He hurriedly crawled through the shadows, listening to Tooka's whimpers as he got closer. By the time he reached her, the Twi'lek had succumbed to hyperventilating. "Hey," he beckoned. "Hey hey hey."
"I'm stuck," Tooka sobbed. "I can't get out. I-"
"Tooka," Kristoff spoke calmly and held the child's hand in place. "Look at me." Tooka slowly looked up in the shadows to see Kristoff taking any form of deep breath. She too slowed herself down by emulating him. The calmness was short-lived as more cracks formed above them.
Acting quickly, Kristoff felt for a downed support in the darkness. Clutching a dented tentpole, he inched his way towards her legs. "Don't move," he said. As Tooka braced herself, Kristoff dug the tentpole into the rocks that were wedging her feet. As he started to lift up, more cracks extended around them. Lifting it just enough for Tooka to feel her feet, Kristoff asked. "Can you move your legs?"
While it took a moment for senses to return, Kristoff was relieved to see Tooka wriggling her scraped up legs. "Uhuh," she sniffled.
"Okay," Kristoff worried as dust and gunk started to seep from above. "I'm going to pull up completely," he said slowly. "As soon as you're out, you crawl back as fast as you can. Understood?" Tooka nodded rapidly. "On three," Kristoff said. "One-" The roof of the tunnel continued to collapse. "Three!" he yelled and cranked the stones fully off of her. "Go! Go!"
Kristoff and Tooka's elbows ached as they raced out of the tunnel single file. Every push felt like their last as the roof continued to collapse behind them. With the power cell buried, all they had was a glimpse of moonlight to guide them through the blackness. There was no room for words, for any sliver of breath was carrying their crawl. Seeing them rushing back, Sven and Lain extended their hands. All they wanted to do was shout for their companions to hurry, but held themselves back.
Kristoff's heart was racing as he begged to know if Tooka was hot on his heels. The duo practically launched out of the tunnel and tumbled through the trench. A wave of stony mud poured in from behind them, sealing the tunnel. For the rest of the camp, this collapse of terrain barely caused an inconvenience. So little so, that the Empire immediately ruled it as a mining issue or thunder overhead. Ironically, the sounds of such had kept the tunneling group from raising suspicions. Meanwhile, said tunneling group was left in disarray.
Sven checked over Kristoff, who only needed to catch his breath. Tooka had fallen into Beni's arms and lost herself in the Ithorian's lanky embrace. It mattered not how filthy she was, Beni cradled her as she wept into his chest. "You're safe," he whispered and caressed Tooka's head. "I have you."
Lain was frozen in place. Neither word nor cough found him as he stared at their caved in tunnel. Months of tireless effort...decimated in a matter of seconds. His beard quivered, as he found himself torn between crying and screaming. Both were lost to Lain as he dropped to his knees, never looking away from the tunnel. Amid the slope of dirt nearing his feet laid the only remnant of their toil. A single, dented tentpole protruded from the debris.
"You're safe, Little Tooka." Beni continued to tell the child. "You're safe."
Each repetition had Lain's watery eyes twitching. Clenching his tired fists, he looked as though he was about to burst. Only the explosion would never come. Instead, he simply breathed and clasped the tentpole. And with his exhale went all hope as he silently walked past everyone. Lain found the furthest corner of the trench and curled up on the ground with his back turned to all. Without even so much as one of their dirty blankets, Lain hugged the tentpole and started to cough again. No one dared to call out to him beyond a first attempt. Everyone kept to themselves, slowly getting hit with the same realization that had taken Lain. Everyone was thinking it, but no one could bring themselves to say anything. They'd failed, and that collapsed tunnel and sealed their collective doom.
Nights on Wobani were usually brief for seasoned inmates. You were either too exhausted from work and fell right asleep, or you were terrified of having your throat slit by another prisoner. The latter felt like an act of mercy in such a hell. In either case, the night was eternal for Captain Lain. The Pantoran hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, and had lost track of how long he'd been staring at the trench's wall of gunk. His eyes barely blinked, yet no tears came. He stared long into a smoggy sunrise until Kristoff slowly shook him.
"Captain," he called somberly. "It's time. We-...we need to report for our shift."
Lain rose like a droid reset to factory settings. He climbed out of the trench to join his team, still never uttering a word. Gone was any hint of rebelliousness as he trudged forward. The rest of his team hung their heads, as if mourning what had become of their plan and him. It didn't matter how long he'd been a captain, or how many speeches he'd ignited in the name of the Rebellion. Every lifeform had their limit, and part of Lain died when that tunnel collapsed. He was a hollow shell, listing among the other inmates. Completely unbothered by the raucous laughter of Lyn Ferix and her Rancors. The gang was cackling about, mocking the frail inmates stumbling past them.
Without even having to hear an Imperial command, a mass of prisoners went on program. Lain was so out of it, that he didn't remember when he'd put his hands on his head. Kristoff and the others followed suit beside him.
"Look at 'em! Look at this one!" shouted a voice many in the camp had come to loathe. Jub, the stocky Rodian, shuffled his way to the front of the Rancors. He pointed towards an emaciated Sullustan. "Look at his nasty little face!" Jub guffawed, making his chunky snout bounce. "Watch this," he jested to his fellow gang members. The laughs only intensified as Jub tripped the Sullustan. "You should've joined us!" he jeered as the Sullustan went face first into the mud. "Not so tough now, eh? Eh!" He kicked his fellow prisoner, forcing them back into the ground. The Rancors cheered Jub on as he continued to kick the Sullustan.
The morning labor group had started to file out of the Grand Corral. As Jub struck the Sullustan again, Lain...glanced back. He didn't follow the rest of the group, but instead glared at the horrendous sight. And yet for as long as Lain watched, he couldn't bring himself to understand. How could all have come to such torment? What had everyone done to deserve such an atrocious fate? To be condemned to a place where former Rebel soldiers were now torturing the very people they'd sworn to liberate. As Lain dropped his hand and went off program, a single tear rolled down his cheek.
Jub was so busy beating the prisoner down, that he didn't see Lain limping closer. Prisoners in the captain's group started glancing back, unsure what would unfold. As Lain closed in, each of the Sullustan's whimpers agitated him further. He gritted his teeth and...once he was close enough, willed his heart to speak. "Heh-" was all that could flee his raspy throat at first. "Heh-" he pushed, straining his weakened self further. Raising his head as far as the aches would permit, Lain shouted. "HEY!"
The Pantoran's voice was louder and fiercer than any alarm. It reverberated throughout the ghostly camp as heads swiveled to him. Jub ceased his attack and rose from the Sullustan. His snout wrinkled with disgust as he turned to Lain. "And what do you want, sicky-"
With a mighty swing, Lain bashed Jub across the face with his salvaged tentpole. Every...last...ounce of strength went into that swing, as Jub didn't have time to react. Lain struck so heavily, that the crunch of Jub's skull was deafened by the pole snapping on impact. The Rodian fell, killed in one blow. Gone was his irksome cackle as his face sunk into a green puddle of his own blood.
The Grand Corral went silent. The Rancors' cheerful demeanors collapsed as a single unit, as if they were of hive mind. Several of the gang members in front shuffled about as their hulking leader barreled forward. Lyn, that terrible titan, stomped closer. Lain didn't budge, for the rest of his strength had fled him killing Jub. Still he stood tall, looking into Lyn's eyes as she reached for the back of her pants. Without hesitation, she drove a shiv through his jugular.
"NO!" Kristoff shouted as loudly as a raw throat would permit. Without hesitation, he broke program and pushed through his fellow prisoners. Diving down, he scooped through the mud and clung to a solid stone. He tossed it at Lyn, watching as it sliced across her cheek.
Wiping the blood from her face, Lyn's sinister gaze fell to Kristoff as she smirked. "Bad choice, Blondie." She was about to advance on him when another rock barely missed her. Kristoff glanced back to see Sven with his arm extended from the throw. Everything was happening so quickly, as one stone soon became a barrage. Several prisoners abandoned program in the name of desperation. The prison was already a death sentence and they had nothing left to lose. "Get back in line!" Lyn warned as if she were a stormtrooper.
Meanwhile, the troopers angrily aimed their guns at prisoners, shouting for them to be on program once more. Not a single prisoner flinched as their riled up group only grew. Kristoff stared across the mud at his captain's corpse. The Pantoran had been a fighter until the end. Lain knew they'd be doomed and had chosen to make his final act a valiant one. Perhaps he wasn't thinking of the future any longer, and it was all about saving a life. Or maybe he knew that all it would take...was a single spark to light a fire.
Every following act would be one of chance. But soon Kristoff found more prisoners at his sides. Exhaustion married exasperation as they formed up. Tired of Imperial torment...furious with the Rancors who had only increased their suffering. Amid the rage of it all, Kristoff dared to shout. "Attack!"
That mere, aching shout...was enough to send the Grand Corral into chaos. People were acting on instinct and nothing more. Kristoff, Sven, and the prisoners around them began an all out charge for the Rancors. Lyn's gang rushed to meet them, and a gruesome clash ensued within the corral. There was neither rhyme nor reason to any of it. Prisoners from both sides grabbed whatever melee weapons they could salvage. Stones, tentpoles, and hidden shivs made the battle brutally intimate. Smashed heads and bleeding guts filled the soil as the bodies piled up. A dazed prisoner couldn't get up, for he was instantly trampled by both opposing forces. A hapless prisoner took a swing at Lyn. She easily evaded and then pulled him into a headlock. As her bicep pulsed with her tightening grip, it only took a swift twist to snap his neck.
"Glory to the strong!" Lyn roared. "Rancors, to me!" At her command, more gang members circled up as she snuck away to her tent.
"Back on program!" A stormtrooper yelled fruitlessly.
"Stand down now!" another barked.
"Set for stun!" Captain Moltre ordered. "Fire!" At his command, the arriving troopers unleashed a volley of stun blasts. The indiscriminate blue rings met their marks for better or worse. While some stunned inmates fell off to the side of the conflict, others met horrific ends. Some limp bodies fell into the crowd and were soon stomped on. Others lost fights as their opponents easily stabbed their unconscious bodies. Still the troopers continued, desperate to maintain order.
"Up there!" Moltre warned as a woman tried to climb one of the watchtowers. Liana Hallik kept the outside wastelands in sight. Caring little for the conflict, she used it as a distraction to escape. Liana was about to jump for it when Moltre's stun blast struck her back. Her body plummeted back into the mud as she lost consciousness. While Moltre was focused on aiming upward, he didn't realize that several inmates were rushing to his position. He and the other troopers managed to stun several, but the hordes were far too overwhelming. While Rancors clashed with other prisoners, a faction of both had formed to take on the troopers.
Moltre swung his rifle at a prisoner's head even as a sea of hands took hold of him. Moltre fell over, hyperventilating through his helmet. The crunch of his plastoid armor was deafening as prisoners bludgeoned him with anything they could get a hold of. Someone kicked at Moltre's chin, sending his helmet rolling into the battle. Blood seeped from his lips as he looked upon his attackers with widened eyes. The frantic captain soon found himself staring down the barrel of his own E-11. The prisoner disabled stun...and pulled the trigger.
One blast was all it took to spark even greater disorder. Stormtroopers thought their captain had fired, and swiftly switched to lethal lasers. These attacks only caused the prisoners to retaliate further. Some scavenged downed trooper blasters, and fired on both Imperials and other inmates alike. Escape was no longer a goal in the Wobani labor camp. Circumstance had beaten out whatever hope for that remained. Now, all anyone in the corral could do was kill or be killed. Such madness had only spurred the laborers in other corrals to retaliate as well. While many were gunned down, others jabbed their drills at nearby troopers.
Beni found the furthest corner of the corral and held Tooka close. The child clung to his garbs and buried her face in them. "Don't look up!" the Ithorian pleaded. "No matter what happens, don't leave my arms!" His vocoder could barely be heard over the furious carnage.
Only when so many had gathered for a clash could the prison's overflowing population be seen. Troopers in the watchtowers had no rhyme or reason for their blasts as they fired into the thick of the brawl. Warden Hyren emerged from his sentry tower and peered from the balcony. Lieutenant Croy wasn't far behind as she rushed to observe. "Animals," he hissed before rushing to comms. "Captain Moltre, I want you to-" His cybernetic eyes clacked while focusing on the static feedback. "Captain Moltre! Report!"
"The captain's dead!" a panicking trooper called in. "We're overrun! Help-"
The ensuing static had Hyren observing the battle below. "Sir," Croy worried. "We might be able to stun more prisoners if we deploy-"
Completely ignoring her, Hyren powered up comms again. "All units," he declared. "I want the Grand Corral taken back. Move in! All non-compliant prisoners are to be shot. Go!"
Croy's jaw dropped as a wave of white entered the Grand Corral. The fresh troopers opened fire on anyone who didn't surrender immediately. Bodies piled up before this new group also came under attack.
Kristoff wrestled with a Snivvian before punching him across the face. Gratigo had Kristoff in his sights. The dreadful Pantoran moved in until Sven barreled through. He tossed Gratigo deeper into the crowd as the battle raged on. Gratigo scrambled to his feet and shuffled through the prisoners. Stumbling towards Lyn's tent, he flailed a tired arm. "What do we do, boss?" he panted. "We're gonna die in here!"
"What?" Lyn scoffed as she exited her tent. She clutched a crude assortment of metal. Bound together by wiring from disassembled drills, this terrible device clicked when Lyn locked a carved tentpole into place. "Did you think we were gonna live forever?" Lyn snarked and returned to the fight. A bag of poorly shaped projectiles comprised of camp scraps jingled in her bag. Standing atop the muddy slope by her tent, Lyn aimed her crossbow and pulled the trigger. The wiring's whip was dreadful, and a projectile met its mark. The carved pole impaled a prisoner's chest, sending blood spurting upward. Lyn reloaded with ease and continued her savage barrage.
Kristoff watched as a prisoner knocked out an inmate. Immediately after doing so, a piece of metal struck her from the back. She collapsed into the mud while Kristoff eyed Lyn from afar. She fired again, never missing as she sent another victim to the ground. Kristoff's heart sank as he contemplated what to do. If he was swift enough, he could make it to fight her. But as he looked further, he noticed an anomaly amid the conflict. The Empire had been so eager to get reinforcements in, that they'd left the corral's main gate cracked open. While the outside was a stretch of vast mudflats, it was an exit nonetheless. Kristoff's gaze darted through the crowds, wishing he could pinpoint all of his companions. With Beni and Tooka nowhere to be found, Kristoff chose survival and turned to Sven.
"This may be our only chance, buddy!" he shouted over the clash. "Come on!"
Despite the ongoing fight, many others had heard and caught on to Kristoff's plan. While the battle continued, a mass of prisoners and rancors alike surged towards the gate. "Lock it down!" a disheveled officer cried out. "Lock it all down!"
At his command, the gates started to slowly seal and cause greater desperation. Prisoners climbed over one another, some of them pouring through the closing gate. Many didn't make it past two steps before troopers on the walls gunned them down. Kristoff was almost there when he heard a sudden, ear-splitting mewl. He'd seldom heard such a painful screech, and it was enough to have him stopping dead in his tracks. Kristoff turned with a horrified glare to see Sven trudging forward. Blood painted the ravaged terrain as one of Lyn's projectiles protruded from his side.
"Sven!" Kristoff yelled and ran to the Cevrian's aid. Helping Sven onward, they pushed for the gate while Lyn reloaded.
"I don't think so, Blondie," she snarled. "If I'm not leaving hell, neither are you." She aimed again, this time for Kristoff's torso until something sounded beneath her. Glancing down, Lyn spotted several prisoners ascending to her position. She was quick to shoot one in the head, but couldn't reload before the others attacked. The smaller prisoners attempted a tackle, even as Lyn bludgeoned and jabbed at them. Yet no matter how strong the Rancor leader was, even she was no match for the hordes. Her arms flailed, still trying to strike as more prisoners piled on top of her. A shiv swooshed erratically, cutting at her bicep and face. Pain only angered Lyn further as she punched at her attackers. Her roars were a testament to her lethal spirit, long after they were muffled under a heap of bodies.
Kristoff couldn't stay to watch her murder as he pressed on with Sven. His heart willed for Beni and Tooka to appear, but they had been lost in the chaos. The troopers kept firing, blasting inmates to pieces until they gained ground. Some of the prisoners lifted each other towards the wall, leading them to rush the guards. While they were distracted, Kristoff and Sven pushed out alongside a few lucky prisoners.
A Twi'lek took the lead, dashing ahead of his cohorts until a crimson bolt struck his back. The shot was unlike anything anyone had ever heard. Its echo was sharp and resonant, leading back to the sentry tower from whence it came. A smoking, NT-242 sniper rifle clacked as Warden Hyren aimed again. His cybernetic eyes narrowed on the scope as he picked his next target. Firing, he crippled a Nikto to the ground. Once he was down, Hyren finished him off with a laser to the head.
"Scatter!" another inmate shouted as others fled in multiple directions. Kristoff and Sven chased the silver horizon, feeling their feet weighing further into the mud.
Hyren fired again, picking off a straggler from the group. His rifle slid across the railing as he lined up another shot. Lieutenant Croy twitched with each blast. While the prisoners had initiated the escape, she still found herself uneasy with massacring them. The battle carried on within the Grand Corral below, and she chose to speak up. "Sir..." she croaked as he shot again. "Sir, the Grand Corral is-"
"The troops can handle it," Hyren growled. "You want to help? Grab a rifle." Croy froze up while Hyren kept blasting away. Desire filled his heart as he lusted for another kill. His lips quivered, unsure whether or not to grant him a smile with each shot.
Another prisoner dropped into the mud, a smoking blaster wound in his temple. Weighing their chances as the numbers lessened, Sven threw himself at Kristoff. Through their friendship, he'd forgotten just how immense a Cevrian's strength could be. "Sven?" Kristoff panted. "What are you-"
Sven was big enough to loom over Kristoff all while carrying him onward. His bulky hide was enough to obscure his friend's body...and take a sniper bolt to the back. Sven bellowed as the high powered laser scorched his skin. "Buddy?" Kristoff worried, and yet Sven persisted.
Having slowed the Cevrian, Hyren chose to direct his attention to quicker escapees. He shot a Rodian into the mud and then gunned down a human. With the higher priorities neutralized, Hyren returned to Sven. Getting his antlered head in the crosshair, the warden fired. Instead of the satisfying clack emerging from his rifle, a dreadful hiss took its place. Backing up from the scope, Hyren observed his weapon's smoking barrel. Having fired in such rapid succession, the NT had overheated. "Damn it all," Hyren cursed under his breath. While he waited for the cooling systems to stabilize, Croy's shout pulled him away.
"They're at the stairs!" the lieutenant warned.
Fed up with the breakout, Hyren returned his attention to the Grand Corral. He dropped his rifle and drew a pistol from his longcoat. Without warning nor mercy, Hyren began shooting anyone that wasn't Imperial at the base of the stairs. Overwhelmed by blasterfire, the surviving unarmed prisoners raised their hands in surrender. Hyren continued descending the tower and shot those with their hands up anyway.
Fortunately for those deeper in the corral, the Empire had been more "law-abiding." As the riot's momentum faded, the area became filled with stormtroopers. Prisoners either died fighting, or surrendered to this insurmountable force.
"It's okay," Beni kept reassuring Tooka. "Just put your hands up. It's going to be okay." The child nervously followed suit at his side while the troopers apprehended them.
"Get this camp under control!" Hyren brayed. "Either put the animals on program or blast them! I want search parties out in the mudflats for stragglers. Get it done!"
At the warden's command, teams spread out to divide and conquer. Outgunned and exhausted, Rancors and other prisoners alike went on program. They were gathered in droves and escorted to a temporary holding area. As the inmates were marched onward, they glanced at the riot's haunting aftermath. Cracked skulls and scorched bodies joined together to form a gruesome pile. Blood puddled into ashy blaster holes from the collective madness. While prisoners scoured the corpses for those they knew, a unanimous thought was on all of their minds. Had anyone made it out?
"During the turbo tank drive to this camp, I noticed that there are massive stretches of wasteland just outside. No outposts at all. Likely because the Empire stripped them clean and moved on."
Captain Lain's words echoed through Kristoff's mind. The Pantoran hadn't been wrong, as Kristoff and Sven traversed seemingly endless stretches of barren land. Running on slivers of hope and sheer adrenaline, the duo carried on. Determined to put the prison behind them, they hobbled through the mud until a distant structure caught their eyes. Accompanied by the echo of spacecraft, this small checkpoint beckoned them closer. Exasperation pushed them onward, until both collapsed into a loamy depression. The sunken crevasse helped Kristoff and Sven hide while observing the area.
Lain hadn't been entirely right about a lack of outposts. A single, TIE fighter sat on a designated landing pad while a small station received transmissions. "We could probably both fit," Kristoff suggested. He kept reassuringly petting Sven's shoulder while forming a plan. "I've never flown one of those, but if we can just get airborne..." Kristoff sighed. "It's our only shot. We have to try." Kristoff's brows furrowed when he noticed that Sven wasn't answering. "Buddy?" he whispered and turned over.
The Cevrian's dark eyes had only grown darker. Sven's unblinking stare fell to Kristoff, longing for him to be his final sight. His body had gone fully limp, succumbing to the sniper blast and Lyn's savage crossbow. "Sven?" Kristoff sputtered. "S-..." He kept petting his shoulder, unable to accept the truth. "Sven come on. We're right here." He stroked his fur faster, all while straining his voice with each aching whisper. "Sven...Sven...Please don' 're right here. We're right here. We're right here and-" Kristoff didn't even realize he'd started crying. His head hung forward, fighting the reality staring him down. "Sven please just...We're right here." Falling against his companion's body, he could hardly keep breathing. "We're right here," he kept saying. "Please...We're right here."
His longtime friend didn't respond, laying there as a furry bulk beside him. Kristoff felt nauseous, and likely would've acted on it had footsteps not sounded. An inky black helmet emerged from the transmitting station. "I can try another flyby," the TIE pilot hollered to someone still inside. "But tell Warden Hyren our sector is clear and he's wasting his time." A barely audible technician responded as the pilot continued on his way. He gave his ship a once-over and then climbed a set of stairs to the cockpit. He'd only started to ascend when a pair of hands seized his shoulders.
"Camp base to Point Theta," the technician said. "Please respond." He leaned in, listening to the transmission's crackling response. "Copy that, base. My pilot's performing a sweep now. But our sector is clear." A series of aggressive shouts returned from the base communicator. Although nervous, the technician remained steady. "Yes sir. Understood, Warden Hyren." As the call persisted, the technician had to deeply focus on the buzzing words. He was so focused in fact, that he didn't see his pilot brawling just outside.
Through his grief, Kristoff was simultaneously fighting and living on mental autopilot. He rolled across the mud with the pilot, punching between the armor pieces of his flightsuit. The pilot's heavy grunts were muffled under his helmet. He retaliated with a flurry of black gloved fists. While Kristoff had managed to have the element of surprise, bodily weakness was catching up with him. And as his strength faded, the pilot lunged upward. He delivered a swift punch to Kristoff's face, sending him tumbling into the mud. The pilot was relentless, unsheathing a vibro-knife and immediately bringing it darting down.
With a final ounce of strength, Kristoff threw his hands up to catch the pilot's wrist. The Imperial didn't let up, and pressed both hands on the blade's handle. As its humming tip neared Krisotff's chest, he thought on Sven and the others he'd lost. Fighting to keep purpose in their sacrifices, Kristoff furiously kneed the pilot in the gut. This small hindrance was enough to weaken his jab. Kristoff siezed the moment to elbow the pilot's face. While his arm ached from striking the helmet, it was enough to disorient the pilot. Kristoff pushed forward, riding his rage to pry the knife from his foe's hands. With gritted teeth and a heavy breath, Kristoff drove the blade into the pilot's neck. He kept digging, even after the pilot's arms lost all fight to them. Blood streamed from the pilot's neck as he fell over. Without wasting a moment, Kristoff scavenged the body and retrieved an access datapad. Once he had it, he sprinted up the stairs and used the device to unlock the fighter's cockpit.
"Yes sir," the technician kept talking to base. "Yes sir. It will be done." There was a distant comfort in the sound of his pilot taking off. "He's airborne to begin the next search now," the technician reported. "We will confirm any prisoner whereabouts after the-" To his shock, the TIE fighter flew straight up. Contrary to the designated search order, the TIE symbol took off and maximized the thrusters to get into space.
Still adjusting to the controls and spherical cockpit, Kristoff shifted to full acceleration. He wouldn't let himself fully breathe until he was out. While soaring through a thick veil of smog and storm clouds, Kristoff longed to breach the atmosphere. And as he launched the ship onward, Kristoff found himself among the stars once more. After months of polluted skies, Kristoff had never been so grateful to be in space. Even in such a devastating situation, seeing the stars again reinvigorated his hopes. As he flew on suppressing the grief of it all, Lain's words returned.
"I need you all to understand this. If one person gets out, we win."
The Frozen Force Behind the Screens Trivia:
1. The Terrabe Sector is home to the mysterious and historically significant planet, Jedha. Interesting. Why would an Imperial pilot defect and head there? :)
2. The NT-242 sniper rifle first appeared in the video game "Star Wars: Battlefront II" (2017).
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading this week's chapter. We are only getting closer and closer to the Season 5 Finale! I will see you next week on Friday, November 29th for "Chapter 145 - Sisters of the Force Part II.
Long Live Imagination and May the Force be with you,
~ Sparks