IE XXII: THE SIEGE OF CAPITAL STARGATE

Coming out of the blue-white tunnel of Hyperspace, a Lambda-class shuttle enters the Gorathion-system. With the large planet of Vaulent Prime looming over it, a smaller orb, Vaulent 6, barely skims its shadow.

The floor rattles slightly as General Veers gazes out of the viewport. He fiddles with a lighter in his fingers on the table. Two glasses of strong booze lie next to him. The layer of dark brown liquid trembles a little. The unyielding view of Vaulent 6 is cold as his focus shifts to the mission ahead. While Night Force director Kirbley has vowed to follow through with orders from the Imperial High Command, it is to be seen whether they have been effectively put into place. If not, then Kirbley's leadership is no more and a replacement will soon be assigned to take over the project.

Across from him, Colonel Lubhaumer gently puts his computer into a cold, metal suitcase. The insignia of the Imperial Department of Military Research shines boldly on its front. Lubhaumer is a middle-aged man with stern eyes, a bald, wrinkled head, and a tight, white uniform with the shimmering crest of IDMR. This is the man who supervisioned Project Seraph Null. It researched into the complete brain rewiring of soldiers to turn them into unstoppable machines. Soldiers under his command knew no emotion, no empathy, no feeling, except for burning hatred for rebellion. Though its soldiers spiralled into chaos, its results would have been useful had High Command given it more funding.

At the time, General Veers was not the head of the Imperial Army. Had he been, he would have ensured all the funding the Army had in its pockets. Looking back at what his past superiors had done, his chest fills with disdain. His fists clench tightly. These Rebels would have been crushed in an instant, had Project Seraph Null and its attempts to create mindless soldiers been funded well enough.

This whole war may have never happened, had supersoldiers, teen or adult, been swarming the battlefields.

When Doctor Kirbley and his father came to meet him and the Supreme Commander at Coruscant, Project Seraph Null could be reborn but in a smaller, more controlled confinement.

He remembers that, at first, he did not want to fund Night Force initially. It wasn't a research department that was leading it. It was the Navy with the admiral of the Eagleclaw Fleet that stood at the front. After the Three Kashyyyk Campaigns when the Army was left to eat dust three times in a row, he had little trust in the Navy. Even if they had the capabilities to develop the Night Force project, Veers had his blood already sucked out by those naval leeches.

Veers fingers slip to his datapad. The screen flashes and shows paragraph after paragraph, detailing the first status report of the Night Force project. The first results were promising, and Veers realised there was a chance. He could undo what his past superiors had done. The Empire could be saved. The Rebels could be crushed. He had high hopes, and now, Veers looks forward to seeing it be met.

However, time is not on their side. If Kirbley fails to deliver the expected results in a tight time frame, Veers may be forced to replace him. The war effort doesn't sit still. It needs better soldiers now harder than ever.

The lock of Lubhaumer's suitcase clicks and he puts it on the chair next to him. His eyes draw to the viewport as well as the sun bathes his face in cold light.

A faint sneer curls his lips. "I've seen his history," Lubhaumer begins. "Doctor Kirbley was indeed the right man to study the foundation of his project. But he should have never been given leadership over the entire project. The Night Force initiative should have been in IDMR's hands from the start."

General Veers eyes draw sharp as he glances at him, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Scientific experience or not," Lubhaumer adds, his tone dripping with disdain, "he does not belong in the realm of military leadership and development."

Veers raises an eyebrow. "The choice was deliberate, Colonel." He grasps the glass and sips the booze, feeling it burn in the back of his throat, and puts it back on the table with a light thud. "It may be disdain, but the Night Force project had to be ruled by a man between two departments. Without it, the Army and the Navy would endlessly fight over it, demanding a greater portion of Night Force soldiers than the other, while the Emperor needs a new generation of troopers. A pragmatic - and perhaps resistant - civilian turned out to be critical for the project."

Lubhaumer snorts silently. "In practice, it is a folly that delays progress, General. The IDMR does not waste time with politics or taste. Had the Night Force project been assigned to us, there would have already been teenage super soldiers fighting for the Imperial flag on Mon Cala. The Empire's reign there is falling as we speak." He shakes his head dismissively. "IDMR would've delivered results by now.

Veers tilts his head slightly, regarding Lubhaumer with a measured gaze. Though he acts highly critical, and perhaps, a little arrogant, Veers finds value in Lubhaumer's view. Had Night Force not required the intensive cooperation between the Army and the Navy, IDMR would have surely delivered results by now indeed. IDMR has a history with military research and development. Kirbley does not.

However, one with no history does not mean he cannot make history. Kirbley can prove himself he can do the task and act like a military officer under command while remaining a level-headed civilian.

"Results, Colonel, is why you are here," Veers responds. "Project Seraph Null of yours was, on paper, a success. Had it been given more funding and foundation, it would have made the ultimate soldier. See Doctor Kirbley's potential failures as your re-emergence, Colonel. If his results are lacking, all of Night Force will be yours. But do not assume that it will. Until I see the project's progression with my own eyes, Night Force stays where it currently is."

A smirk appears on Lubhaumer's hard face, but there is hardly warmth behind it. "General, if the project is mine, I shall bring the best, most efficient killing machines." He folds his arms with pride shimmering in his dark pupils. "Night Force will come to IDMR eventually. It is only a matter of time."

Before Veers can respond his female aide approaches him from the corner of his eye. Her black hair is tied in a gentle bun, slightly off to the side. Her strands shimmer in the dim lighting of the cabin, sprayed with the soft scent of orchid gloss oil. Her eyes sparkle like two, blue stars in the void; the finest of the Empire's aides.

"Gentlemen, we have entered Vaulent airspace and are preparing for final descent." With a smile on her face, the aide gently sweeps her hand towards the two, empty glasses of booze. "Should I take these away for you?"

Veers presses his lips with a steady gaze. "Yes, please, Annikae."

With a playful nod, the aide sweeps the metal tablet from the table so gently and swift that the glasses on top do not even rattle. Her shimmering eyes lock onto Veers.

"Are you gentlemen in need of anything else?" Her gaze sweeps to the other side of the table.

Lubhaumer leans forward. "May I have today's issue of the Corellian Times, please."

The aide nods delightedly. "Of course, I will be with you in a minute." She walks away with the tablet and quickly returns with a bleak datapad in her hands, as thin as a paper sheet. "Here is your paper, sir. Are you in need of suggestions?"

Lubhaumer gives her a curt nod as he takes the datapad from the aide's hand. "That would be useful."

The aide inhales deeply. "Well, on page fortytwo," she starts, "you can find the heroic story of a Navy fighter pilot who saved a starliner from pirates, fighting a six hour enduring battle while being outnumbered ten to one. A thrilling story of a brave man, I would say"

Lubhaumer gives her a short smile and a nod. "Thank you."

The aide smiles, too. "Have a nice read. I will be back with you when we land," and she leaves the two behind.

Trailing her with his eyes, Veers shifts his gaze to Lubhaumer. The man holds the datapad before him in one hand as the blue screen lights up in his face.

Lubhaumer's eyes shift to him. "Making history in the books…," he exhales, drawing out each word deliberately. "At the end of the day, someone is going to go down in history as either the fool or the competent. A civ or IDMR."

Veers gives him a curt nod as his eyes drift to the viewport. Vaulent 6's verdant landscapes are scarred by sprawling cities of concrete and light as the moon looms ahead.

"We shall see," he grunts. "We shall see…"

"Peyton, report."

Roslin's voice crackles from Peyton's wristlink as she walks past the glass railing, looking down at the floor below. Her hand gently slides over the cold, metal edge of the railing as crowds of travelers hurry past, their footsteps echoing against the polished, marble floor tiles. The bustle of Capital Stargate hums around her as Peyton's sharp gaze sweeps over the crowds of people walking criss-cross through the terminal. To the unprepared eye, today seems like any other busy day at Vaulent's largest spaceport. But Peyton's eyes scan intensively for anything out of place. Beside her, Ashara does the same. So far, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Peyton moves her wristlink to her chin. "Nothing so far, commander."

The incendiary bombs hidden in her backpack rattle a little. Peyton's eyes dart from crowd to crowd on the floor below her. Aside from just being a lower floor, it is also the killzone. Once Kishtung commences her attack with force, the squad will draw her to this point. Once Kishtung is in the right position, Peyton and Ashara will bombard her with firebombs from above, overwhelming her in an instant. If Peyton's assumptions are correct, if that lightsaber is vulnerable to fire, the tactic should work.

"Understood," Roslin's voice crackles. "Ecklund, report."

Outside on the sidewalk of the main avenue leading to the spaceport, Ecklund patrols the roadside parking lots. It is the only way in and out of Capital Stargate, which makes it heavily guarded as well. Scattered around, there are security checkpoints with the eyes of Spaceport Security watching everything closely. Between every 20 parking lots, there is such a checkpoint. Heavily guarded and well manned, but still unprepared for the calibre of such a Rebel attack coming closer. As such, her eagle eyes snap from speeder to speeder, man to man, ensuring that nothing gets past her.

A gentle breeze blows over head as the faint hum of starships lifting off echo from behind the massive, main terminal. Speeder cabs drive past her as she squeezes herself through a crowd of travelers. Nothing too out of the ordinary as well.

The fiery sun prickles in her eyes and Ecklund feels a sneeze about to erupt from deep within her nose. And then, she lets out a sneeze for all to hear over the comm channel, thundering like a thermonuclear explosion.

"Sorry," Ecklund wheezes, the prickle slowly subsiding.

From the other end, Roslin erupts into a soft chuckle. "Allergic to people?"

Ecklund smirks. "Probably. Anyway, nothing to see here." Her voice remains steady as she stays alert.

Meanwhile, Eva and Daxan roam the arrivals terminal of Capital Stargate. Roslin is elsewhere in the terminal, asking from anyone for status updates through their wristlinks.

As Eva squeezes herself through a crowd of travelers, she steps into an open area. Suspended in the air are two gigantic holograms, displaying the departure and arrival times of starships. The flight digits of three starships are red, flickering as quickly as her heart is pounding in her chest. Nervously, she taps with her fingers on her hilt in which her old but reliable E-10 blaster lies.

Maybe it wasn't good thinking of her to bring a concealed blaster into one of the busiest spaceports on the moon. Yet, Spaceport Security does not seem to bother. Do their security droids see them as Imperial soldiers? Her eyes dart to a dark KX security droid, standing near the check-in area and the baggage handlers. Its white, glowing eyes sweep over the terminal. It does not seem to be bothered by Eva's weapon.

However, her nerves remain to boil her alive, and Eva's tapping on her holster grows louder. Her breath comes in shallow bursts.

If she has thought everything out well enough, then there is no doubt that Kishtung will attack Capital Stargate today. Everything in the plan has to go perfect. But… What if the incendiary bombs - the trap - won't work? What if the KX security droids become a danger to her once the Rebels attack? They might see her as an unauthorised, armed person, like a Rebel insurgent. What would it do to her? Rip her apart? Punch a hole through her chest with its steel fist? Shoot her apart?

Eva glances at the KX droid again. Its eyes suddenly snap onto her, and Eva's eyes dart away to the floor with shivering hands. Eva tries taking deep thoughts, filling her lungs with cold air. She tries to shake off the burning thoughts, but they remain to keep her on edge.

This plan has too many hinges to her likings, but she doesn't have much of a choice now. She can't retreat to think of something better. She can hear a distant clock faintly ticking.

Daxan brushes her shoulder, standing silently beside her. His shadow looms over her as Eva's eyes remain locked on the floor, seeing the silhouettes of travelers turning into vague shadows rushing past her. Then, she feels two, warm fingers prying open her clenched fist. She slowly opens them and sees they are Daxan's fingers, locking her hand in a tight embrace.

For a moment, the weight lifts from her shoulders a little. The cold air races into her lungs.

"Everything will go fine," Daxan speaks, softly.

Eva inhales deeply. She glances down and notices the tremble in Daxan's hand as well. She lets out a smirk. "At least we go in high on nerves together."

Daxan chuckles, lightly. "Can't help myself either." He looks up with conviction in his eyes. "But, we've got this. I mean, I'm here with VSRC kriffing 006, the best of the galaxy. Can't go wrong."

Eva snorts. "Don't get yourself too confident, though. You might do something you're gonna regret later."

Daxan takes some deep gasps of air as he glances at her and nods. The nervousness shines strongly in his pupils. "Yeah, got it."

With conviction, they give each other a comforting nod. Then, Ecklund's voice crackles on the comm channel, erupting from her wristlink.

"Wait… There's something." Ecklund's voice is laced with suspicion. It's slow, drawing out each word.

Eva's eyes draw to her wristlink, a light flickering at the rhythm of Ecklund's words. Her heart pulsates in her throat.

"What is it?" Roslin's voice crackles.

Meanwhile, Ecklund's eyes narrow on a white, weathered hovervan that just pulled up near the foremost security checkpoint. It is the first checkpoint speeders pass, and as such, the first line of defense. Slowly, Ecklund moves closer, cautiously. Her light footsteps barely echo against the concrete tiles.

A cold breeze blows over the parking lot as Ecklund raises her wristlink. "A maintenance van just pulled up. Parked it near a security checkpoint. Driver got out, and walked off. Doesn't feel right."

"How?" Roslin's voice crackles. "Any van can park at the front."

"Yeah, but," Ecklund stammers, "contractors check in at the utility checkpoint, not here at the front. Should I investigate?"

"Yeah," Roslin responds. "Be careful."

Ecklund switches off her wristlink as she slowly approaches the van. As her eyes scan it, she notices it's an older model of the eons-old Metrocab. They were initially built as automated taxis, but some saw other values in them and retrofitted them into manned cargo vans and utility trucks. Ecklund has seen them before at Steergard Naval Yard when she was barely a child. Father took her to the site for the annual profit presentation. At the same time, he presented the future, and announced to outphase the Metrocabs in favour of a better model.

She was eight, days before everything went wrong. And everything that went wrong, was 5 years before the actual Rebel airstrike that got her a place at the Academy.

Stuck in the feelings, Ecklund shakes her head, brushing off the rising memories, and she inspects closer. The side of the sleek van bears the mark of a maintenance service. Anything broken? There is someone to call, the slogan reads. The logo bears a comic drawing of the Emperor with a screwdriver in his hand.

Nothing on the surface seems to be wrong about it, but something still sets her on edge, and Ecklund can't place the feeling. She tilts her head with uncertainty, clenching her jaws. What's so mysterious about you?

Then, a deafening explosion rips through the avenue behind her. Shaking, Ecklund spins around as a ball of fire erupts into the air. Flames spew out of a burning wreckage further down the avenue, consuming nearby speeders and a checkpoint. Screams fill the space as people run away in panic.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Ecklund watches as another explosion erupts from the avenue. A van, seemingly parked at random, bursts into fiery chaos. Shrapnel flies in all directions as security officers are thrown on the ground.

"Ecklund, what are those explosions?" Roslin shouts through the comm, her shaking voice laced with panic.

Ecklund remains silent, freezing to the ground as her eyes dart to another van. It, too, erupts in flames as its wreckage flies into the air for a brief moment, and crashes onto the sidewalk, crushing a screaming person who got knocked to the ground by the initial explosion. His body vanishes behind the flames.

Slowly, as a chain reaction of explosions wave over the avenue, Ecklund realises the pattern: vans have been left all over the avenue to explode, each vehicle deliberately rigged. With fear shivering her bones, Ecklund jolts around to the van she'd been investigating moments before. A red light pulsates ominously from below, the intervals between each flash growing shorter and shorter. She's merely meters away from it, and it's about to explode.

Ecklund's nerves explode. "No," she gasps.

She spins on her heel, trying to leap clear, but almost instantly, the van behind her bursts into flames. The blastwave hurls her into a parked landspeeder and crashes into its windshield. The glass shatters on impact and her body slumps motionless, blood streaking down her face.

Eva's eyes snap to Daxan. A monotone beep wails from her wristlink, followed by a screeching static noise, interrupted by Roslin's voice, shouting Ecklund's name. The glass of the terminal rattles as the floor shakes by the explosions outside. Through the windows, shadows of rising fireballs enshroud the terminal in darkness. A ripple of panic waves through the hall as crowds of travelers rush away from the outside, the panic etched on their faces as they bump into Eva's shoulders. Children cry, adults scream in panic. The cries and the pounding footsteps of stampedes drown the overhead announcements out. Clouds of smoke rush into the terminal, causing everything to fade before Eva's eyes, except for Daxan.

The shock shimmers in his eyes as he struggles to open his mouth.

"Is it happening?" he mutters, at last.

With teary eyes, Eva slowly nods. The explosions outside did not 'just' happen. It's the start of Kishtung's attack. It's the opening shot.

Eva taps on her wristlink with a heavy hand. "Commander, it's starting."

"Dank ferrik," Roslin's voice erupts. "Everyone, get into position!"

"Got it!" Eva shouts. She glances at Daxan as her hand reaches for her holster and takes out the blaster. "Let's go."

Eva and Daxan start running to their assigned position. It is exactly in the center of the main terminal where the large entrance hall lies. It's the most strategic place in the facility, and thus, the place where Peyton and Ashara will lay the fiery trap.

Eva squeezes her way through crowds of people, rushing to safety as they carry their luggage and crying children. She tries to think about the plan, the trap, but her thoughts sway to Ecklund and the explosions. Did one get her? Is she, now, lying somewhere on the ground, unconscious, or even dead? Bleeding out? The panicking thoughts flicker through her mind as her hands grip on her blaster, squeezing it until her knuckles turn white.

Eva emerges onto an open plaza - the killzone - that directly leads to the large entrance gate of the terminal. She runs towards the center, spins around her heel, and gazes up at the floor above her. From the catwalk above her, she sees the horrified faces of Ashara and Peyton, their hands clenched onto the handrails and gazing back at her, almost unresponsive.

Eva looks at Peyton and gives her a nod. Ready?

Peyton swallows heavily and nods back. A shimmer of assurance reflects from her eyes.

Ready.

Roslin races into view, sprinting towards her and entering the plaza, gasping relentlessly. "Okay, okay," she pants, her pupils wide. "Change of plan. We get Ecklund the kriff out of there, got it?" The words race out of her mouth.

"Yes sir," Eva cries.

Roslin nods quickly and glances up at the catwalk above her. "Peyton, Ashara, remain in position," she shouts. "Hold back any Rebel that tries to enter through."

"Got it," Peyton shouts back.

Roslin glances briefly at Daxan and then at Eva. They give each other a curt, assuring nod, and they start sprinting to the entrance door. They rush past people running away from the chaos combusting outside. Eva runs outdoors and crashes into a plume of smoke, fading out the sun. She can feel each particle prickling on her tongue and her throat clogs up. Eva runs onto the sidewalk of the avenue. Debris is scattered everywhere as the flames spew out of burning wreckages, jumping from speeder to speeder, swallowing everything whole. Suitcases, bags and trolleys have been left behind on the sidewalk, abandoned by their owners in a hurry. Frantically, Eva scans with her eyes, searching for Ecklund while her heart pounds in her chest.

She bounces frantically on her feet. Ecklund, Ecklund, Ecklund, where are you?

Then, from the corner of her eye, a speeder speeds out of its parking lot. Its engine screeches as Eva spots a lifeless body lying on its hood with its head against the cracked windshield. She notices the braided hair, the round, shimmering glasses sliding over the metallic hood and clattering on the ground, the pale arms. It's Ecklund. And the driver is about to take-off with Ecklund's body still on the hood.

"There she is!" Eva cries.

She has to stop him before Ecklund falls off of the speeder and suffers horrible wounds - possibly several broken bones, if she doesn't have broken bones already.

Eva rushes towards the landspeeder and waves with her hands, trying to get the driver's attention. "Wait!" she cries.

But the driver pounds on the accelerator in sheer panic and shrieks past her, nearly hitting her with the mirror. Eva's heart plummets as Ecklund's body tumbles off the engine hood and hits the pavement with a sickening thud, rolling around lifelessly.

"Dank ferrik," Eva mutters, and she rushes to Ecklund's body.

As the girl lies on her stomach, Eva rolls her onto her back. To her horror, she sees her face is covered in blood and wounds. Her eyes are shut and her glasses are nowhere to be seen. The plan has not even started yet, and already, they are one man down. The squad has already suffered from a near-casualty.

Eva drops to her knees, holding onto Ecklund's shoulders. "Ecklund, wake up!" she mutters into her ears.

Daxan kneels behind Ecklund's head, prepared to lift her and drag her away. His eyes move frantically from wound to wound on her face.

Roslin kneels beside her, gasping. "We have to get her inside," she gives Daxan a nod. "Lift her-"

A thunder shakes the ground. Screams erupt from afar as Eva gets up. Security officers run away as at the end of the avenue, her eyes land on a heavily armoured truck crashing through the debris-laden road. It plows over the remains of burning wreckages as the flames spill over the tarmac. Blasterfire erupts as Eva notices Rebel insurgents hopping from vehicle to vehicle, shooting down fleeing officers. The Rebels have begun their siege.

Eva's heart pounds quicker than it can keep up as she turns to Daxan. "Get her out of here," she wheezes.

Daxan's arms slide between Ecklund's armpits and lifts her up from the ground. Her head lolls lifelessly around like a doll. "Got it, I'll get her to safety."

Roslin curses under her breath. "Just… bring her away from the action, got it?"

"Got it," and Daxan carries Ecklund away, her head lolling to the side, disappearing into the twisting smoke.

The armoured truck grinds to a halt in the middle of the road, snapping lightpoles as if they are toothpicks.

With a pounding heart, Eva crashes with her back into a stone planter with Roslin dropping to her feet next to her. Clenching her blaster, Eva takes one, big gasp of air and raises her weapon. She puts the barrel on the edge of the planter. Her crosshair lands on a Rebel rushing out of the armoured truck and fires, hitting him in the chest.

Roslin bumps her shoulder into her, forcing Eva to retreat into cover.

"Eva, where's that Twi'lek?" Roslin cries. Blasterfire screeches over her, making her voice barely audible.

Eva shrugs. "I don't know!"

"Well, shit, we need her here if we want to use the trap!" Roslin shouts.

For a moment, as the rain of blasterfire hurdles over her, hitting police officers fighting back further along the avenue, doubts rise in her mind. Eva thought Kishtung would lead the attack like a knight leading the battalion into battle. But she's not. Is she wrong? Did Eva make an error when planning this out?

Almost as quickly as the doubts arise, Eva shakes her head. "She'll be here," she cries.

"She better be!" Roslin barks as another shot ricochets off the planter. "Now, come on, we have to push 'em back. Those cops are sitting Mynocks!"

"Yes sir," Eva cries.

Clenching her blaster until it hurts, Eva peeks over the edge of the planter. Her finger hovers above the trigger as her eyes land on a sea of blasterfire. Rebels flood the avenue, storming through defense after defense. Her crosshair lands on a Rebel firing at a CPD officer taking cover behind a landspeeder. The sparks swirl in the air, but her finger doesn't pull the trigger.

Does it matter if I shoot? One, two, three Rebels? Ten? It wouldn't even matter.

Slowly, Eva recognises the Rebels hold supremacy. They're outnumbered…

While the screeches of blasterfire echo through the sky, Daxan carries Ecklund into a desolate alley, far from the battlezone. With a worried heart, he glances at her, hoping she has woken up by now. However, her eyes are still shut and her head wobbles from side to side. Her ragged breath comes out in short, silent bursts. The crimson blood seeping out of her wounds streak down her chin. Concern flickers through his mind. What should he do with her? He doesn't have any medpacks to cover her wounds.

His feet start burning and Daxan stops in his tracks. Gently, he drops Ecklund on the ground, laying her back against the metal wall of a storage building. Her head drops and her arms flop on the ground as if she's gone. Daxan drops to his feet with a pounding heart and gazes at Ecklund, unsure of what to do. Should he leave her behind? The squad might need him now that they're with one man less.

An explosion erupts from afar, shivering the ground. Daxan feels a tremble down his spine. That explosion may have gotten one of them the same way one got Ecklund. Should he leave Ecklund and join the fight?

Daxan shakes his head. No. He can't leave her behind. She's wounded and unconscious. Of course he can't leave her behind.

Suddenly, Ashara's voice erupts from his wristlink. "Hey, dude, how's Ecklund?"

He moves his wristlink to his chin. "It's Daxan. She's not doing great. What should I do? I can't leave her behind."

An uncomfortable sigh erupts. "Is she awake?"

Daxan leans forward and rests his hand gently on her cheek. His fingers draw to her eyelids, rubbing her skin, but Ecklund gives no sign of being awake at all.

"Nah, she's at Corellia," Daxan sighs. "No sign of her coming back, too."

"t'Seka," Ashara growls. "Stay th-,"

The com channel floods with the awful screeches of blasterfire vibrating through his wristlink until a monotone hum erupts. A shiver ripples through his leather skin as the horns on his head, covered by his cap, grow colder.

It's exploding over there. It's obvious that the squad needs his help.

His eyes dart to Ecklund's shut eyes. Her chest slowly weaves at each faint gasp of air while distant explosions ripple through the sky. The window of a nearby building rattles at each shockwave erupting from afar.

Should he leave Ecklund behind? Should he leave her alone in an empty alley to help the others? Daxan closes his eyes, trying to silence his thoughts, but the call to help screams louder. She'll be fine right?

He shifts his weight onto his toes, but before he stands up, Daxan stops himself. This girl is wounded and unconscious. Once she wakes up, she'll be totally alone here with no one to help her out. No, she can't leave her alone. It just feels wrong.

Then, a cold hand grasps his wrist. Daxan shudders with a gasp and his eyes dart to Ecklund. A shallow breath of air escapes from her mouth as her eyes are barely open. Her chest races up and down.

A faint smile forms on his face as he leans forward. "Ecklund, welcome back to the moon of Vaulent 6. Good to see you breathing."

Ecklund clenches her jaws as crimson blood drips from her chin, splashing on her chest armour. Her hand pinches Daxan's wrist tightly as her lips shiver, her eyes narrow.

"Go," Ecklund gasps.

Daxan recoils and clenches his jaws. "What? No, I can't."

"Leave me." A cough erupts from her chest. "You're of no use staying with me."

Daxan shakes his head defiantly. "I can't leave you. You're leaking a hell lot."

Ecklund's eyes narrow as an impatient exhale escapes her nostrils. "Just… kriffin'... go," she growls.

Daxan presses his lips tightly with uncertainty. She must've hit the windshield of that speeder pretty hard to be this disoriented. Does Ecklund even feel the glass shards that are stuck in her face? Does she even know she's bleeding?

Then, a glimmer on Ecklund's throat catches his eyes. A metallic necklace reflects the faint sunlight that pierces through the pillars of smoke cascading over them. An intricate symbol is etched into the metal, refracting the sunlight into every colour of the galaxy imaginable. Daxan's pupils wide with shock as he recognises the crest almost instantly.

His fingers crawl to the necklace before Ecklund snatches his hand and pushes it away, her breath coming out in short, erratic bursts.

Daxan's lips press tightly. "You know that… it's not just any necklace, huh?"

Ecklund remains quiet as she reaches for her necklace and covers it with her hand. The colour in her sharp eyes shifts like she knows he's noticed something he shouldn't have. The colourful refraction disappears and Daxan pulls back slightly, his brows furrowing.

"No metal bends light like that," Daxan mutters. "If I have to guess, only Aurodium does."

Ecklund exhales sharply with discomfort. "Just go already."

Daxan tilts his head. "Aurodium is not something just anyone can wear. A few pounds of that shinies can buy you an entire ship." And then, it clicks in his mind. Daxan suddenly realises he's not just talking to any girl. "You're part of them, are you not?"

Ecklund's jaws clench with displeasure. "Part of who?" she spits out.

Daxan snorts. "You know who."

Ecklund swallows hard as her hand squeezes the necklace, trying to hide it from the world. Slowly, she shakes her head. "You're clueless."

"I don't think I'm wrong, though," Daxan mutters. "A soldier isn't born with an Aurodium necklace. Not even the wealthy are. Only the-,"

Then, Ecklund's hand snaps to Daxan's uniform, snatching his collar and pulling him to her. Her shallow breath blows into his face. "Watch what you're saying. I'll pull the trigger if I have to."

Suddenly, a cold blade cuts through his chest. Gasping, Daxan stares at Ecklund with a shiver of fear running through his spine until he swallows a knot through his throat. He nods, slightly. "Okay, I'll shut up about the necklace," Daxan murmurs.

Ecklund releases him and Daxan stumbles back. His hands tremble as he stares at her until he forces himself to get to his feet. "You sure you can hold?" he asks with a tremor in his voice.

Ecklund gazes at him with sharp eyes. "I am," she growls, her voice laced with venom. "Now, go!"

Daxan gives her a nod and storms away towards Eva and the squad who's in dire need of his help. However, as he steels himself for the warzone ahead, he can't think of anything but Ecklund's sharp voice. That Aurodium necklace Ecklund was wearing around her throat - it's not just any necklace. It's a sign of power. Significant power. Daxan is unsure who Ecklund really is. At first, he thought she was just a quiet kid but with extraordinarily sharp eyes. Now, he isn't sure. No normal being wears an Aurodium necklace, not even the wealthy. She must be a very special kid then.

Who is Ecklund, actually?

As Eva ducks from blaster fire, a metallic pound pierces through the air like six Scout Walkers collapsing at once. Her stomach twists as Eva glances to her right. Clouds of thick smoke swirls like tornadoes. Fiery flashes erupt through the smoke. Dark silhouettes dash past objects in the distance, but they are too vague for Eva to recognise them.

A clearing in the smoke forms, and there, a KX droid stumbles onto the ground and against the bumper of a landspeeder. Sparks fly from its groaning servos as the droid's arm slowly rises with a blaster clenched in its metal hand.

Then, emerging from the smoke like a specter, Kishtung strides forward. Her dark robes sway in the storm as she clenches her yellow lightsaber with two hands. Her blade is more red than before as if her lightsaber bleeds. The ash of the fire covers her lekku's as Eva's breath catches. Kishtung's face is calm and composed amidst the chaos, her eyes narrower than the blade she's holding as she strides towards the damaged droid. Eva spots the Artefact as it is tied with a strip to her shoulders. Her heart skips a beat. That's the target and it's right in sight.

As the droid raises its blaster, Kishtung pivots to the side and raises her lightsaber in a tight arc, holding it in the air, ready to slash. And within a gasp of air exiting Eva's throat, the blade cuts through the droid's shoulder. Sparks burst from the socket as its arm crashes to the ground. Before the droid can let out a mechanical scream of burning circuits, Kishtung steps forward, twists her wrists, and brings the lightsaber down, slicing the entire droid in half. Its head explodes out of its socket and crashes on the road, just inches away from her feet.

"Kriffing hell," Roslin cries, gasping, her eyes landing on her. "Eva, is that her?"

A clog forms in Eva's throat as she's unable to speak, frozen to the ground. Kishtung flicks her wrist, angling her lightsaber in a ready stance. Suddenly, their eyes connect. Her head tilts towards Eva like a vengeful predator spotting its weak prey. For a moment, the blasterfire and the screams fade away, except for her own heartbeat pounding like artillery fire.

In the dark pupils of Kishtung's glowing eyes, Eva spots shimmers of fear as if the apex predator is held back by its own prey. Eva's blaster drops from her hands, clattering on the ground.

And then, Kishtung's eyes turn from fear into sheer determination as they narrow at her. Her jaws clench as Eva can see her sharp teeth pressing against each other. The little sunlight that manages to come through the smoke fades away in an instant. Not only is Eva the enemy, but the threat to Kishtung's plan, too. And Eva can tell that Kishtung is coming to get her, to silence her for once and for all. Her hands clench the burning lightsaber even tighter.

"Dank Ferrik," Eva whispers, her voice shivering. "It's her. And… we're bait to her."

Gasping, Roslin slams her hand on Eva's shoulder. "Then let's make use of that," her voice tenses with conviction.

Gasping, Eva's gaze burns through the smoke as her eyes linger to the Twi'lek. Kishtung spins her lightsaber and points it backwards into an attack stance. Amidst the chaotic fires, brought from the deepest layers of hell, Kishtung stands as an unstoppable monster. The flames and the sparks spewing out of the speeder wreckages and the destroyed droid lick at her burning robes. Can she be stopped at all?

Then, Eva remembers Eline. Kishtung still has her. And as long as Kishtung is alive, Eline's fate is sealed. She has come this far. She can't let herself drop to her knees because of her doubts. And then, as Eline's sparkling blue eyes flash before her eyes, Eva's eyes narrow with determination. Her fingers curl into fists.

Kishtung, you scum. You'll get what you deserve.

Eva hits Roslin's hand on her shoulder with her own and grasps her blaster from the ground.

"Get to the kill zone," Roslin cries. "I'll cover you!"

In an instant, Roslin rises from her cover and unleashes a barrage of blasterfire at the Rebel insurgents. Eva launches herself from her feet and sprints over the avenue to the entrance of the terminal building. She stops at the massive doorway, raises her blaster, and fires at the Rebels. In the corner of her eye, Roslin sprints towards her, vanishing behind her back as Eva retracts her blaster.

Her eyes land on Kishtung. Her heavy footsteps echo off of the tarmac. Her lightsaber draws a glowing trail of molten stone over the avenue. Eva spins around and follows Roslin inside the terminal. It's empty as the fire alarms wail. As Eva dashes past the abandoned suitcases and bags from travelers, she stumbles onto the kill zone. Glancing up, she sees Ashara and Peyton on the catwalk. The trap is about to be set.

"Soldier!" Kishtung's voice erupts from behind her.

Spinning around her heel, Eva glances at Kishtung, raising her blaster in an instant. The Jedi is standing menacingly in the middle of the hallway. The glow of her lightsaber draws sharp shadows over her face.

Kishtung snorts. "You don't know when to stop, do you?" Her voice cuts through the electrified air. "You always follow me around no matter where."

Eva swallows hard as all she can hear is her own heartbeat, pounding erratically.

"When will you learn it is futile to fight back?" Kishtung growls, the yellow-crimson glow of her lightsaber reflecting off of her shining, sharp teeth.

Eva scoffs as a hint of anger combusts in her chest. "As long as you have my sister, I won't stop," she hisses. "I won't stop until I have her and ten bodies at my feet." Her finger crawls closer to the trigger as her eyes sharpen.

Kishtung tilts her head viciously. "You think a blaster is going to help you all the way?"

Eva clenches her jaws. "I can always try."

From behind her back, Roslin's voice whispers at her. "Eva, the trap."

Eva doesn't respond as her eyes are fixed on the Twi'lek before her, but she knows the trap is near. Kishtung isn't in range yet, but if she can draw her out to instantly slay her, to slash her lightsaber into her throat, it's all done. It's a risky move, but Eva knows it's one she will have to take.

As she hears Roslin retreating slowly, her footsteps echoing lightly off the floor, Eva clenches her blaster.

Sparks swirl from Kishtung's burning robes as they sway in an insensible storm. The Artefact hangs from her shoulder like it is a grocery bag. "The love for your sister is priceless. Your own life even more so."

Eva shakes her head. "I've made it this far, and I won't stop now."

"If you even think you can stop me," Kishtung growls, "let me remind you that all you are to me is what the Empire was to the Twi'lek race, to my people: vermin. Rubble."

"If so, why haven't you done it yet?" Eva snarls, stepping back.

Kishtung moves. Her steps are slow but deliberate, coming closer as Eva steps back, remaining her distance and drawing Kishtung deeper towards the trap.

"Come on," Eva mutters under her breath. "Just a little bit closer."

But then, just paces away from the kill zone, Kishtung stops. She exhales sharply through her nostrils. "There is one thing that I appreciate about you, Eva," she growls. "All of your droid-like soldiers here collapse at the sight of me. I slash their heads and it's done."

While Kishtung's words escape out of her mind as quickly as they enter through her ears, Eva curses under her breath. She has to push Kishtung over the edge to come and launch herself at her.

"Eva," Kishtung continues. "You, on the other hand, are different. You make slashing feel like it's rewarding, like it's no longer a chore to get to the next step, but rather a liberation." She balances her toes and slowly leans forward like a predator that's about to launch forward.

"So I'm your dopamine, huh?" Eva snarls. "I feed your addiction." Her eyes land on Kishtung's burning robes. "Y'all Twi'leks are all the same: hungry for war while your bodies burn away."

Kishtung's eyes flare with fury, and in a heartbeat, she explodes forwards. Her footsteps pound on the floor as Eva gasps and stumbles backwards. Dank ferrik, she's coming.

Eva pulls the trigger, firing at Kishtung. She spins her blade, deflecting the blasterbolts as she dashes towards her. Kishtung raises her lightsaber, its tip burning a hole in the dark sky and brings it down. Eva stumbles onto the floor as Kishtung's lightsaber hurdles towards her, but then, an incendiary bomb hits the Twi'lek and explodes. Flames erupt in a blinding supernova. Eva dives away, dodging the flames licking at the floor as the heat roars to life.

Kishtung cries out in shock as her robes catch fire. She stumbles back as her body erupts in flames. As Eva lies on the floor and pushes herself up, her eyes widen with shock. Peyton was right. The fire is working. Kishtung tries to extinguish the flames as her movements are wild and erratic.

Then, the strips holding the Artefact hanging around the Jedi's shoulder snap. Sparks fly down as the stone drops to the floor, punching a hole through the tiles of marble with a loud bang.

Everything before Eva's eyes freezes, except for the sparks swirling from the Artefact. She doesn't hesitate and dives forward through the heat. Her fingers brush the stone as her chest slams into the floor.

"Got it!" Eva cries, clutching the Artefact tightly against her body. Scrambling to her feet, Eva stumbles away.

"No!" Kishtung cries, crawling over the floor, her voice shivering as the flames die down.

Another incendiary bomb hits her. The alcohol splashes onto her and light afire, erupting in flames once again and forcing Kishtung further back.

A crooked smile forms on Eva's face. Almost everything is going excellent, even with one man down.

A hand crashes on her shoulder and Eva is pulled back by Roslin. "Follow the plan, get going!" she cries.

Eva nods at her. She glances back at Kishtung as the flames spread. The heat of the flames warm up her heart. Her enemy is done for, and seeing her burning until all that will be left are her bones makes her smile grow.

As Roslin draws her blaster and aims at the Twi'lek, Eva turns on her heel and sprints away. Her heart pounds in her chest as she glances down at the Artefact, squeezed between her arms and her chest. This little stone is hiding a power that's capable of destroying entire districts, and now, that amount of force, concentrated in something the size of a floor tile, is in her hands, squeezed against her chest. Now, all she has to do is bring it to safety. Escape Capital Spaceport and stumble into the hands of the ISB barreling down the avenue. Only then, Kishtung's downfall is assured and victory in reach.

Meanwhile, the flames spreading over the floor below her burn through Peyton's eyes as her fingers firmly grasp another bottle of booze with a lighter in her other hand.

Peyton glances briefly at Ashara who has another firebomb in her hand. As they make eyecontact, Peyton smiles. All the crucial parts of the mission are going according to plan. All that rests now is to burn Kishtung alive. Gazing downward, Kishtung struggles to deflect Roslin's blasterfire while her lavender-purple skin has blackened by the fire. She's almost at her knees.

Luckily, the Empire has already quite some experience with burning aliens. Peyton's smile crookens for a moment at her intrusive thoughts, which she quickly presses away.

"Peyton," Roslin's voice erupts from her wristlink. "Light her up! It's time for that alien to turn into ash."

Peyton smirks. Roslin is definitely holding herself back at Twi'lek. "Yes sir."

Her fingers clench the bottle as she lights up the piece of rag sticking out of the lid. The flame dances around the glass edges as she raises her hand. She can already see the Twi'lek letting out a final scream as the flames consume her whole, putting all of this to rest. They've gone AWOL for this fight, and she cannot go home without victory. What will her superiors do to her when this fails? She and the squad have already broken numerous protocols for which heavy reprimands stand. Would they demote her from Lieutenant Commander? Would they kick her out of the Academy?

No. She can't fail the Empire. That Twi'lek, whoever she may really be, will burn until nothing is left of her body.

Squeezing the bottle firmly, Peyton launches the firebomb at Kishtung. The bottle arcs through the air as its flames trail behind it like an asteroid coming to strike the planet. Just as it nears Kishtung, her hand snaps upward and, as if time freezes, the firebomb stops mid-air. Kishtung's narrowing eyes snap to Peyton as the flames coming out of the bottle's lid dances around the Twi'lek's eyes.

Her heart stops. Is it… still… gonna hit her? Did it just freeze mid-air?

A shiver runs through Peyton's spine until Kishtung's hand snaps forward. Instantly, the firebomb rockets towards her and before Peyton can respond, the bottle crashes into the guardrail, shattering into a thousand pieces. The explosion erupts in a blinding inferno of fire. Peyton screams and crashes into the floor. The flames devour her as they crawl up her arms and chest, blistering her skin mercilessly. Pain wracks her body as Peyton's legs kick and thrash against the hard floor. Her hands claws at the flames, trying to put them out, but they bite deeper into her skin like hungry monsters.

Hearing the screams erupting from above, Roslin's eyes snap to the shattered guardrail as shards of glass rain down like falling daggers. Her blaster trembles as everything turns blurry, her nerves igniting with fear.

Roslin's heart thunders in her chest. Was that… Peyton?

In the corner of her vision, Roslin catches the waving robe of Kishtung with trailing sparks, dying down before they touch the floor. The Twi'lek gazes at the screams above, until those sharp, glowing eyes snap to her. Roslin's heart stops, paralysed as the fading cries of Peyton echo through her mind.

In a heartbeat, Kishtung's hand snaps forward and an invisible force slams into her chest like a hovertrain, ripping Roslin from her paralysis. Her blaster clatters on the floor as she's hurled backwards. With a scream, Roslin crashes into the wall, forcing the air from her lungs. Her body clatters on the floor, leaving with pain spreading all across her limbs. Groaning with agony, Roslin tries to move her arms, trying to get up and fight back, but her limbs only move inches.

Amidst her thundering heartbeats, Roslin registers the heavy steps of Kishtung moving past her. The floor trembles at each pound of her feet. As the footsteps fade away, Roslin then realises Kishtung is not just walking away. Her objective to escape the moon has no longer become primary but secondary goal. Instead, the footsteps fade in the direction of where Eva has run away with the Artefact.

Her blood runs cold. She's coming after her. With clenched teeth, Roslin opens her eyes to the blurry walls of the terminal, cursing under her breath.

"Alien piece of shit," Roslin murmurs. As she slowly scrambles up, she moves her wristlink to her chin. "Peyton."

Instead, Ashara's voice crackles. "Peyt's fine. Where did she go?"

With burning nerves, Roslin's eyes snap to where Kishtung went - the furthest exit of the terminal stretching towards the horizon before her. Flashes of blasterfire screech through the hallway, lighting up the floor like lightning.

Roslin's limbs shiver as she realises that the plan has derailed catastrophically. Not only did she lose Ecklund and Peyton, but now, Kishtung is storming towards Eva, to her next victim, and possibly, the first casualty of the squad. Her breath shakes as Eva curls up on the floor with the Artefact in her hand while Kishtung's lightsaber slashes her in her throat. Eva's final scream echoes through Roslin's mind. Her eyes dilute as all the life drains away until her last gasp escapes her lungs and her body crumples to the floor, hearing her last heartbeat echoing into the darkness.

"She's going after her," she murmurs.

Roslin's eyes swell up at the thought, until her hands clench into tight fists. Eva, I won't let that happen to you. I won't let her take you away.

Blasted Jedi, you shall burn like all others of your cursed kind!