Beyond - Legends Shattered Galaxy (Updated 10/31) (AU, OCs)

Title: Shattered Galaxy
Author: galactic-vagabond422
Characters: OCs,
Timeframe: 10.5 years after Yavin
Genre: Military, Action
Rating: PG-13 for Violence
Summary: The war between the Empire and Rebellion ends but, leaves a broken universe in it's wake.
Acknowledgement: Special thanks goes to jcgoble3 for his masterful beta-reading, with out him this would be a absolute mess.
Disclaimer: Star Wars and related properties are owned by Lucasfilm Ltd.

Shattered Galaxy​

Prologue​

“Red 3, Red 6,” a crackly voice called through the comm. “Three fighters have broken away from the furball.” Under the distortion, there was an urgency in the tone. “They’re heading right for Blue Squadron, run them down.”

Red 6 replied with the same stress in her voice. “Sir, you’ll be outnumbered if we break away.”

“Right now Blue Squadron is more important.” He stopped for a moment, and the sound of lasers hitting shields echoed across the channel. “Protect those B-wings.”

Red 6 broke away, and Valere Aquila, Red 3, looked to her left, seeing a trio of TIE fighters screaming away from the dogfight currently raging. She turned the nose of her fighter toward the TIEs, catching a glimpse of the planet below. It was so close now that she could almost feel the durasteel beneath her feet. The Rebellion, no, the New Republic, was going to take Coruscant, the seat of power for thousands of years. It had been a hard fight to get to this point.

The second Death Star had been destroyed two years earlier, taking the Emperor and Vader with it, but also Commander Skywalker. Princess Leia said that he had gone up to the Death Star to face the Emperor himself. His body was never recovered but, in the wreckage, salvage teams had found his lightsaber. Leia now wore the same lightsaber on her hip constantly.

As Valere closed in on her target, she looked down at her sensors; there was an empty space off her left wing, right where Red 4 should have been. He was a young kid, just barely nineteen, with a wispy beard on his face. It was a grim reminder to her that every battle had its costs. Returning her gaze to the three fighters in front of her, she tightened up on the control stick, almost in firing range.

The two X-wings closed the distance, but the TIEs got ever closer to their goal. Valere squeezed the trigger, sending five sequentially fired red lances through the void. They struck true, turning the once perfect sphere into a fireball that was quickly snuffed out by the vacuum. Red 6’s shots shredded the left solar panel of the other sending it spinning out toward empty space. Both pilots had lost count of how many others they had shot down today; kill count didn’t matter, not when the fate of the galaxy hung on the outcome of this battle.

Her hand hovered over the control for the proton torpedoes. She only had two remaining, a sign of how long she had been out here. It felt like it had been hours. Simultaneously, the two Republic fighters let loose a stream of fire that tore the remaining TIE apart.

“Red Leader, this is Red 3,” Valere reported. “Three eyeballs blinded.” There was no response, she tried again. “Red Leader, this is Red 3, I repeat three TIEs destroyed.”

“This is Red 2,” a younger masculine voice answered. “Red Leader...” he caught on the name, “is KIA, but all bandits in this space have been eliminated.” Every word out of Red 2’s mouth seemed pained, like each utterance drove a knife in deeper. “All remaining Reds form up on me; Green Squadron needs our help.” They lined up with their S-foils in attack position, with half the number they started with, and set off toward the A-wing squadron tasked with bomber interception. As they neared the spot where sensors showed Green Squadron’s location, Red 2 spoke again. “Green Leader, this is Red 2; what is your status?”

“Engaged by enemy escorts…” Green Leader’s voice broke up for a moment. “Squints… red stripes.” Valere’s stomach fell; TIE Interceptors with red stripes meant the 181st. Once again, her thumb hovered over the launch button for her proton torpedoes.

“You heard him, let’s get in there.” Red 2 led them into the fray as Red 6 formed up on Valere’s wing.

The sudden addition of more fighters caught some of the Interceptors off guard, allowing Red Squadron to take some pressure off their comrades. Valere dropped in behind one that was juking madly trying to escape, but she couldn’t get a lock. Taking a deep breath, the pilot focused her mind calculating her target's movements. She pulled the trigger again; four more bolts streaked out from her laser cannons and grazed the panel of the black and red snubfighter. It shuddered, but continued on its way.

As she settled in to launch another assault, Red 6’s voice burst through on the comm, “Red 3, you’ve got a squint on your tail.”

Her X-wing shook, green laser blasts impacting on the shields. Valere turned hard to the right, cutting her speed; the hunter stayed behind her. More attacks lashed out from its cannons, most of them missing, but one struck the shields. She felt the sweat fall from her matted brown hair as, for just a moment, she glanced at an object on the left side of her cockpit. Warmth filled her heart and steadied her hand.

She shifted some power to the rear shields and punched the throttle. She just needed a little room for one more move. She lifted her right wings then banked back to the left; the little feint worked, putting a few more meters of space between her and her pursuer. Pulling into a climb, she saw the enemy following her. Yet a smile crossed her face: her hunter had become the hunted, with a green mark having fallen in behind her tail.

“I’ve got your six, Red 3.” Two red laser blasts flew past Valere’s transparisteel canopy. “Stay still you little…” A moment later, the crimson blip fell off her scopes.

“Thanks, Tal…” she stopped herself from using her savior’s real name, “...Red 6.”

“Anytime Red 3.”

“This is Green 5,” a panicked Lafrarian voice cut in. “I have a bandit on my tail and I can’t shake him.” An A-wing passed close on the left side followed closely by an interceptor. Time slowed for an instant, and in that moment Valere saw the kill makers on the ball of the TIE. Green 5 soon disappeared in a flash of light.

“Red 6,” she said barely covering her anger.

“On your wing, Red 3.”

The two X-wings gave chase taking turns firing at the fleeing killer; only a few got close, and one just touched the top edge of the left solar panel. Their quarry suddenly decelerated. They banked in opposite directions around the fast approaching ball. Completing their 180-degree turns, they came face to face with their target. Both women let loose a stream of fire, piercing the pylons that anchored the panels on to the craft, then puncturing the cockpit itself.

Valere looked over to her wingmate; something seemed to be sparking on her fighter. “Red 6, are you alright?”

“It’s fine; one of my engines got dinged. My R2 unit shut it down.”

Breathing heavily, Valere looked at her scopes. There were fewer red dots flying around, but even fewer green. Her eyes noticed something coming in from the outer edge of the screen, from the planet. She looked back through the canopy, then back to the sensors. The image was clearer now: twelve green dots all in formation, with an IFF signal of Rogue.

“This is Rogue Leader, what is your status?” A smile returned to her face, even through the distortion there wasn’t a pilot in the New Republic that couldn’t recognize Commander Wedge Antilles’ voice.

“Rogue Leader, this is Red 2, we’ve sustained heavy casualties and are facing the 181st. Any assistance would be appreciated.”

“Understood Red 2. We’re on our way.”

The Rogues descended on the red-striped Interceptors, taking out one after the other. Soon the vaunted Aces of the Empire were defeated, but at great cost: two Rogues, Nawara Ven and Riv Shiel, fell to them. Valere let out a deep breath as the last Star Destroyer darkened, hopefully taking the Imperial commander with it. The fight had taken so many lives on both sides, but now it was coming to a close.

She looked to the object on the left side of her cockpit again. A small holo of a boy, sixteen years old, a green flight suit half removed and tied around his waist, its accompanying helmet tucked under his arm. His blonde hair nearly glowed in the light. She saw behind him an old T-16 Skyhopper, her Skyhopper.

“Hey Rouen,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion and exhaustion. “Mommy did it, she saved the galaxy.” A small tear dropped from her eye. “After this is over I’m coming straight home to Chandrila to see you. It’s been too long since I’ve seen your smiling face.”

A voice flooding over the comm interrupted her conversation. “This is Admiral Ackbar.” The tone in the Mon Cal’s voice froze her blood. “The Home One has sustained heavy damage and is beginning to break apart. I have ordered an immediate evacuation, all remaining ships prepare to receive survivors.”

“No,” was all Valere could say as the pride of the Republic fleet burned and tore into pieces. Her scopes filled with shuttles scrambling to recover the escape pods. A green blip moved with particular haste toward the shattering ship, a blip identified as the Millennium Falcon.

“General Solo, what do you think you’re doing?” Ackbar’s voice seemed angered.

“Not my idea, Admiral,” Han Solo responded.

“This is my order, Ackbar,” Princess Leia’s voice washed through Valere’s helmet, “The Falcon is the safest place to evacuate Mon Mothma.”

“There are plenty of escape pods.”

“And leave the leader of the New Republic open to attack by what Imperial forces that remain? No.”

“All fighters,” Commander Antilles called out, “move to protect the escape pods.”

“Yes sir,” many voices answered. All at once the surviving pilots of Green, Red, and Rogue Squadrons formed up behind the Hero of the Rebellion. Home One continued to fall apart, each explosion bigger than the last. The fighters fanned out and created a perimeter around the recovery zone, blasting any hostile that got close.

“Red 2,” Red 6 cried. “That one is coming right at you.” A red dot and a green dot blinked out of existence simultaneously. “NO!” the word ripped from Red 6’s throat. A final explosion destroyed what was left of Home One. Frantically Valere searched for the Falcon on her scopes.

“General Solo?” The worry was apparent in Antilles’ voice. “General Solo, come in.” The silence was crushing. “Han, are you still alive?” The devastating quiet returned, for what seemed like an eternity.

“Stop your worrying Wedge, we’re fine.”

A loud sigh of relief escaped Wedge’s mouth. “Is Mon Mothma aboard?”

“Yeah she’s here, a little scratched up but alive.”

A swarm of hostiles appeared on the edge of Valere’s sensors. “Sir,” she said, but Wedge cut her off.

“I see them. Everyone protect the Falcon.”

The mixed group of craft took off toward the Corellian freighter that held the hope of the New Republic. The number of TIEs was staggering; the pilots must have been so focused on protecting the pods they didn’t notice a massing of bandits waiting to launch one final assault. The dark cloud of deadly ships flew right past the approaching Republic snubfighters aiming straight for the Falcon; it felt to Valere like they knew, knew that it contained the most important people in the galaxy.

Both gun turrets on the iconic YT-1300 opened up spraying fire into the oncoming storm front. The Republic fighters struck from the rear destroying TIEs at will; many of the Imperial craft made no effort to evade. Through the mass of fighters a bright flash of light came through, it wasn’t just a TIE detonating, Valere made a flyby of the ship and her heart stopped. The cockpit was no longer there, blown away by what she suspected was another suicide attack.

“Han!” Wedge shouted. “Han, come in!”

The Imperials that made it through the initial wave looped around and started picking apart the now floating corpse. Valere chased one down and it was blown away by the Falcon’s top turret. She looked to see Princess Leia, her mouth open in what could only be a shout of defiance, the laser still spewing death. Then all too soon, the gun was engulfed in flames by a green lance punching through the transparisteel dome. The last she saw of the Princess was a face of grim determination.

“No.” More tears formed on the edges of Valere’s eyes. “No, no, no, no, NO!” She took off after those that slayed their leaders. With vengeance in her eyes, one fell then another; she clipped the wing of one and it careened into its partner.

Her mind was so filled with rage that she barely noticed Red 6’s voice, “Rogue Leader they’re all over you, all fighters assist Rogue Leader, save Commander Antilles.” Her voice ached with sadness as she turned around hard and raced toward the mark identified as Rogue Leader.

“Biggs, Luke,” Commander Antilles said, a sense of relief in his tone, “I’m coming to join you.” Many cries of pain and anger rang out through the comm as Rogue Leader dropped off sensors. The TIEs that were still alive were dispatched quickly in a rage-fueled frenzy, leaving the skies above Coruscant free of any Imperial presence, but at too great a price.

“This is General Crix Madine,” a new male voice called out, “the way is clear for our ground invasion. General Tantor, begin landing your troops, I will not let the sacrifices made here be in vain.”

Large transports began jumping into the system, having held back for safety, and Valere could only wonder why Mon Mothma had not been held back with them. Why did she have to be on Home One right in the middle of the battle? Valere’s head swam with unanswerable questions, and tears continued to fall from her eyes.

“Oh, my boy,” she said softly her throat choked up with anguish, “it’s over.” She ran the fingers of her left hand under the chin of the holo, the image distorted as they passed through. “It’s finally over.”

__________​

Four years had passed since that day, the so-called Fall of Coruscant. The galaxy had changed, and not for the better. The New Republic died before it even had a chance to start, and the Empire was broken completely, having given up everything to try to hold the “Imperial Center”. Sector strongmen and women, local political, business, and military leaders, carved up the map creating their own little empires where they could rule however they wanted to, with no one to check their power except the Banking Clan.

The Banking Clan was the only galactic organization to survive the crisis, and afterward, it held the purse strings of the entire galaxy. They did not step in to end the madness that descended. Not when there was profit to be made from each little sector fighting each other for more planets, more resources, more everything, especially when they took out loans to pay for mercenaries.

In this new shattered galaxy, a Lambda-class shuttle departed Sharlissia Spaceport, at the helm a young man twenty years old wearing a green flight suit and a helmet over his blonde hair. A dark visor covered his eyes and the word “Chatter” was written across the brow. He glanced at a picture of a woman with dark brown hair standing in front of a T-16 Skyhopper. He looked over his shoulder to look at his three passengers: a blue skinned Twi’lek with an icy stare, a smiling Zabrak, and a shifty looking Jenet. All new “employees” of the Bweha Company, one of the myriad of mercenary groups that sprang up after the fall. These hodgepodge collections of former Imperials, Republicans, and criminals now acted as the military for many systems and were heavily compensated for their skills.

“Keyde Yiisong,” the Zabrak male said, extending his hand to the Twi’lek. The woman stayed silent for a moment, her blues eyes boring into the smiling horned humanoid. “Some call me Needles.” His hand returned to the Soro Suub Firelance across his lap.

“Why would somebody call you that?” the Jenet piped up.

“Well,” Keyde started, putting his rifle to the side. He took off his backpack and put it at his feet. This was no normal pack; it was an ECM-598 medical backpack. He opened one of the many compartments revealing syringes loaded with various liquids, “because I carry a lot of them.”

The long nosed Jenet nodded his head. “Reck Umbra,” he said as he leaned back, letting the light glint off his 9118 blaster carbine. “Though if you want a cute name to call me, Gremlin works.” He pulled out a datapad from one of the pockets of his Mark 45 blast vest. “I slice.” He then removed a rolled up nerfhide object from a side pocket of his pack with one hand while putting his datapad away. Unfurling the object light shined off metal tools ranging from lockpicks to a small hydro-spanner. “And do other things.” Both Reck and Keyde turned their attention to their silent companion.

She shifted her gaze between them, then put the butt of her Kylan-15 rifle on the floor between her feet. The weapon was distinctive with a collapsible stock and advanced scope. It looked like a blaster used almost solely by Churnee’s Riflemen, a mercenary company that existed before the fall. They were known for their excellent marksmen and being nearly wiped out while working for the Empire. They recovered just in time for the galaxy to go mad and turn itself into a mercenary paradise.

“Kalt Bel’ator,” she said. Her tone was flat with almost no inflection. “Call me Hoth, if you want.”

“Well,” the pilot called back, “now that you got the introductions out of the way, why don’t we…”

The comm crackled to life. “Shuttle Lang, there’s been a change of plans.”

“Well,” Chatter continued, “I guess that’ll have to wait.”

“The credits just cleared,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “The governor of Sharlissia has just contracted us to clear out some...” there was a pause as the female voice cleared her throat, “...terrorists. The governor’s intel puts the terrorists in the mountains on the far side of the planet from your current orientation.”

Chatter looked over his shoulder at the three beings in the passenger compartment, “Ah, you sure one team can handle an entire terrorist group?” his words betrayed his misgivings.

“Alpin squad will link up with your group on the ground, they’ll hold the newbies’ hands.” Kalt hissed at being called a newbie.

“Ah, understood. Shuttle Lang out.” Chatter turned his head back to the group, “You guys ready to get your feet wet early?”

“We gettin’ paid?” Reck asked in return.

“You heard her, the credits cleared.”

“Then I’m in.” The Jenet nodded his head.

Keyde shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t expect we have a choice,” Kalt said, her head hung low.

There was a long pause as Chatter struggled to find the words. “Not today.” He adjusted course and moved the craft towards the night side of the planet.

 

Special thanks to Shira A'dola for beta reading this post.​

​

Newbies​

Chatter set the Lambda-class shuttle down next to a larger Sentinel-class transport. “Welcome back to Sharlissia, lady and gentlemen,” he said, rising from his seat and moving to overlook the boarding ramp. As the three beings began to descend, Chatter continued, “Alpin squad should be waiting for you. I’ll be here to pick you up when you’re done, if you survive. But don’t worry, no one’s ever died on their first mission. Yet.” Keyde, Kalt, and Reck were already outside the shuttle when the pilot finished speaking by shouting out, “Bring back souvenirs. The more expensive, the better.”

They approached a group of maybe four others; it was hard to tell in the low light provided by the glowrods from the other group. The ground felt grassy under foot and the tall plant stems brushing against their legs confirmed this. Well, Keyde’s and Kalt’s legs; Reck was nearly up to his knees in the tall grass.

“I’m Fish,” said a being from Alpin squad. He extended his hand to Kalt, who was at the head of the group. Fish’s armor seemed to absorb light leaving only a vague silhouette that looked eerily like a Stormtrooper.

“Fish?” Keyde said, looking over Kalt’s shoulder,

“It’s a long story,” Fish replied, he returned his attention to Kalt, “You team lead?”

The Twi’lek looked to Keyde, who shook his head, eyes wide, then to Reck. The shorter Jenet was silent and shrugged one shoulder.

“I guess,” she said, taking the offered hand.

“So you know the lay of the land?” Fish’s tone was even and professional. The way he stood screamed former Imperial; he could be a defector, but such labels didn’t matter anymore.

Kalt shook her head, “We just got dropped off here. All we know are the basics.”

“Where are your Comms?” There was a long silence then, and a sigh escaped the man’s mouth. “They sent them without a Comms,” he said quietly, but still loud enough for Kalt and the others to hear, “Alright newbies.” Kalt hissed again at that word. “You're taking a backseat, since we have all the equipment,” He looked over his shoulder, “Blue Ear,” he called out, a shadowy figure popped it’s head up. "Get over here."

As Blue Ear passed through the weak pools of light, Kalt gathered that she was a Bothan of maybe average height, with an antenna protruding from her backpack. Once in close, Kalt noticed a device with blue lights in one ear and a comm headset around the other.

“Yes?” Blue Ear sounded almost bored.

“Newbies need a map.”

The Bothan threw something onto the ground, then a holographic projection emerged from the grass. It was a map of the terrain, showing steep mountains and a small valley between them. The blue light gave a better idea of Fish’s armor; it looked like standard Stormtrooper armor except it was straight black, and no light glinted off it. “With the intel we got from the governor, the terrorists are camped up here,” Fish gestured to a point in the valley a few kilometers northeast from their current location. “It’s in an ancient riverbed, long since dried; tall mountains on either side make an approach from the sides impossible. Only route is straight up the river.”

“Yeah,” Reck piped up. "Straight into their waiting guns.”

“Which one of you said that?” Fish asked looking between Kalt and Keyde, his gaze then shifted down to Reck, “Oh, didn’t see you there, Tiny.”

“I think we’re going to get along real well, Fish,” Reck said, glaring up at the taller being.

“Don’t do this to make friends.” His tone was unchanged, “We’re not going up the middle; we’ll split into two teams sticking to the valley walls. Should be some outcroppings to provide some cover, and closer to the camp, there’s some boulders that could be good fire positions.”

Kalt looked the map over then looked up to Fish, “I assume the two teams are us and your group?” The man in Stormtrooper armor nodded his head, “Then we’ll take the northeastern wall.”

“Hey,” Fish said, a touch of annoyance in his voice, “I thought I said you were taking a backseat on this one, Newbie,” Kalt clenched her fist, “But, I agree. I’ll take Alpin squad along the northwestern wall. We’ll meet at the camp,” Kalt’s group started moving away “Wait,” Fish said, stopping them “I’m attaching Blue Ear to your squad to keep an eye on you.” Fish patted the Bothan on the shoulder and the other being snarled.

“We don’t need your hand holding,” Kalt said, a hint of anger in her voice.

“Really,” Fish replied chuckling slightly, “Cause your friend there,” he continued, pointing at Keyde, “looks as green as grass.” Kalt looked over her shoulder at the horned humanoid. He shifted his weight and darted his eyes around, grinding his teeth. Fish gave a small hand wave to Blue Ear, who then picked up the small projector.

Kalt turned to Keyde. “Are you up for this, Needles?” she asked,

The Zabrak nodded his head again, “Yeah, I got this,”

She turned her attention to Reck “We going to have a problem with you and him?”

“Could ask the same of you,” Reck said. A cold silence filled the air. “Hoth, I’m a professional,” he pressed the tips of his fingers into his chest. “Unlike this joker,” He gestured with his thumb towards the worried looking medic next to him. “As long as I get paid a lot of money, I can work with idiots like him.” His gaze shifts to somewhere in the middle distance, “I’m still going to mess with him though, maybe drain his accounts or flood his datapad with adverts for ‘lady favors’.”

“Wow,” Keyde started, wringing his hands with nervous energy. "You’ve really got this 'influencing people' thing down, don’t ya?’”

“He called me tiny. You don’t get to do that without consequences.”

“Enough,” Kalt said in a firm tone. "We need to get moving. The terrorists aren’t going to clean themselves out.” She turned and walked toward Alpin squad.

Keyde followed close behind, “Well, that is, unless they’re messing with chemical weapons. Then who knows?”

“No one’s that stupid,” Reck said a few steps back from the other two, slightly shrouded in the darkness.

Keyde threw a look back over his shoulder, “You’d be surprised what some beings do…” His voice trailed off, “…when their back’s against the wall.” His words lacked the same jovial air they had before, and his face looked a little darker.

Kalt leaned in close to her anxious squadmate, “Needles, you sure can you do this? I don’t need you screwing this up for me.” Keyde took a deep breath and nodded his head. “Good.”

The two squads met up and set their comlinks to the same frequency so they could keep in contact once the fighting started. Before the teams split, Kalt found herself next to a male human in darkened scout trooper armor with a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Which lance you work with?” he asked.

Kalt gave him an icy stare, “Excuse me?”

“Your rifle, it’s a Kylan-15. Dead giveaway you’re a Rifleman, or rifle-woman in your case.”

Kalt kept silent for a bit, letting his words fade from the air. “Why you interested?” she asked, breaking the cool quiet that had settled in.

“Got a friend that works with them. Or last I remember he did.”

Another silence. “I don’t remember, worked with them for a short time, a long ways back. It’s all fuzzy.”

“Kept the rifle though.”

Kalt didn’t respond, but hardened her gaze at the armored individual. The two drifted apart and the party was silent until reaching the point they split up. The ground had become rocky and uneven, their feet making crushing sounds as they came down on it.

“See you at the camp,” Fish said, leading his group sans Blue Ear to the opposite valley wall from Kalt’s group.

Kalt nodded her head and moved her team close to the valley wall. There were only few places in which to take cover, but it was better than the middle of the dried riverbed. They pressed on, keeping in contact with Alpin via their comlinks.

“Should be coming up on the camp now,” Fish said. “Stay sharp.”

Kalt turned her head to look at her team, “Stay low. We have no idea what’s waiting for us,” Keyde swallowed hard and nodded his head vigorously. He crouched down, pointing his Firelance in front of him. Kalt noticed a bit of hesitation in his movements and he looked uncomfortable holding his weapon.

Reck held his hands out, wide palms up and a sarcastic expression on his face, “I’m already low,” he said in a whisper. The two teams continued forward for a bit longer, weapons at the ready.

Coming up to a slight rise, two bright lights on posts activated, illuminating the darkness that the squads had been using as cover.

“Get down,” Kalt said as she reached behind her and pulled Keyde by the collar to the ground behind one of the boulders Fish had mentioned. It was about chest high, providing only half cover. The air became filled with the sounds of rapid blaster fire. Looking back to her squad mate, she saw his eyes go wide.

“E-webs, E-webs,” Fish called out over the comm, “Marks, get up here,”

“Riflewoman,” A familiar voice came through the comm; the merc Kalt had talked to earlier. “Do you have eyes on the E-webs?”

“Stay down Needles,” The blue skinned Twi’lek ordered.

“No worries about that, Hoth,” Keyde replied,

She got to her knee and peered over the top of her cover. The repeating blasters had quieted, having no targets to fire upon. There were two, set up on either side of the entrance to the camp, with overlapping fields of fire that covered the whole approach. The lights were stationed a few meters off the ground, a bit inside of the E-web stations. The E-webs themselves were positioned behind a ramshackle barricade. Before Kalt could raise her rifle to get a better look through her scope, the blasters opened up again and forced her back behind her cover.

“It’s Hoth,” she corrected the other speaker. “And yes I do, but I only got a quick glimpse.”

“Then we’ll make this quick. When the fire dies down, we need to get sighted in and take them out simultaneously.”

“Acknowledged. If we can take out the lights at the same time, that will help our approach.”

“Got it. E-webs first, then lights.” The E-webs stopped. “Now!” the man said.

Kalt rested the barrel of her rifle on the top of the rock and looked through her scope. She could see the operator and the technician. She focused on the power regulator; if she took out the operator, someone else could take their place.

“You locked?”

“Yes,”

“Fire.” Two blaster shots rang through the valley striking the power regulators of the repeating blasters.

Kalt quickly changed targets to the light closest to her and fired a second shot that darkened the space. Another shot from the other side of the valley took out the remaining light, plunging the area into darkness again. Kalt pulled out an object from a pouch and slapped it on her blaster in front of her scope. Turning it on, the view through her optic was shaded a dark green but she could see movement in the camp. She gave a hand signal to Keyde and Reck to move forward. The Zabrak was slow to get up and Reck stepped around the still prone Keyde.

Kalt glanced over her shoulder as Blue Ear passed by, “Move it Needles!” she yelled at the frozen being. Slowly, he got to his feet and rushed forward, weapon pointed nervously in front of him.

“Curse those lights,” Keyde said with a slight uneasy laugh. “Can’t see a thing,”

“I can see just fine,” Kalt replied bringing her crosshairs over a humanoid shaped blob. Once she had the torso firmly in her sights, she pulled the trigger. A blue bolt flew from her weapon and pierced the center of her target. The fuzzy figure stumbled a bit, then fell to the ground.

A shot sounded from over near Alpin squad,

“That’s one for me Hoth,” the other marksman said,

“This isn’t a competition.” Kalt pulled the trigger again and her bolt flew true, striking a blurry being in the head.

“You could have fooled me,”

“Enough flirting, you two,” Fish said cutting into the conversation. “We’re almost in the camp.”

“Uh…” Keyde’s voice burst over the comm. “Hoth can you see the little guy, what’s his name…” There was a slight pause as he thought for the name. “Gremlin?”

Kalt searched the field for her diminutive teammate, but couldn’t see him. “I don’t, Needles.”

“Dang it, he was right in front me! Where could he have gone?” His voice cracked a little as the words spilled from his mouth.

 

Nice! I like the action here.

Glad to see you found another beta reader after I had to back out.

 

Special thanks to Shira A'dola for beta reading this post.​

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Under Fire​

“Dang it, he was right in front me! Where could he have gone?” Keyde asked, looking about trying to find Reck. The worry was obvious in his cracking voice.

“Doesn’t matter,” Fish interjected again. “We can do this without him.”

“But what if he’s…” Keyde tried to object, but was shut down by Fish.

“Focus Newbie. Now’s not the time to worry about your friend.”

“He’s not my…”

“Enough,” Kalt said in a firm tone. “He’s right, Needles. We can’t do anything about it right now. Keep pressing forward, I’ve got your back.”

“Got it,” His voice quivered a bit as he moved forward, keeping an eye out for movement in the dim light. More illuminators activated, bathing the camp in harsh white light. Keyde dove behind some crates that looked that they had been set up for the defenders' protection.

A few blaster shots passed by his position, striking a few of the crates. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing quickened. He took a deep breath and leveled his own blaster. His three-blast burst hit the other being in the chest, sending tongues of flames up its torso. The Zabrak moved to the next cover position his hand shaking slightly. He found himself under fire from two positions “Pinned down.” His fear punctuated his words, “Could use some help here.” A blue bolt crossed the battlefield and Keyde heard a grunt of pain.

Kalt’s voice cut through the sounds of blaster fire, “I said I had your back.”

“Thanks, Hoth,”

“Medic!” a new voice shouted over the comm.

“But you are the medic Patches,” Fish answered.

“Hard to operate on yourself, Fishy,”

“What’s your location?” Keyde asked, putting his back against the crates.

“A few meters from a light post, I managed to drag myself behind some crates next to a circular tent.”

Keyde looked up from his position and saw a circular tent with a light on the far side of it. Noticing some movement, he turned towards another line of crates. A Weequay popped his head up over the edge. The being brought his blaster to bear and Keyde ducked back down. As the blasts struck his position an ice blue bolt flew over top, silencing his attacker.

“Needles,” Kalt almost growled over the comm, “Go!”

He complied with the order and moved swiftly towards the tent. Coming around it, he saw the injured being. He rushed forward sliding his rifle around behind him. He dropped to a knee and threw off his medical backpack. “How we doing?” he asked, noticing the being holding his abdomen.

“I’ve been shot,” the patient said in a pained tone. “Punched straight through my armor.”

“Need better armor then.” Another nervous giggle slipped between Keyde’s teeth,

Patches grunted in pain. “Why did I have to get the newbie. Now patch me up!”

Keyde removed the damaged armor and pulled up Patches’ shirt. The wound was wide but not very deep. Most of the energy was expended going through the armor. He opened one compartment on his backpack and pulled out a bit of gauze, but his shaking hands dropped it on the ground.

“Need me to show you how it’s done?”

“I’ve got it.” He pulled another pad of gauze and wadded it up. Patches howled in pain as Keyde shoved the gauze into the wound. He returned to the same compartment and removed a bacta patch. After taking off the backing, the medic slapped the adhesive bandage over the wound, eliciting another grunt from Patches. In a flash Keyde injected his patient with a medication. “For the pain,” he explained. “I wouldn’t suggest moving.”

“Don’t plan on it,” Patches leaned his head back. “This is strong stuff. At least you can do one thing right.”

Keyde took up his backpack and moved to cover behind the crates. “Patient is stabilized.” He swallowed hard again, trying to settle his voice. “But out of action.”

“At least they’re alive,” Fish said, a sense of relief in his voice.

Keyde peered around the crates, but was forced to quickly pull his head back as angry red bolts flew past where his head had been. As he began to move to the other side of the tent, another enemy leapt over the barricade in his direction and turned to fire.

Time slowed for Keyde as his muscles froze; he couldn’t move. All he could do was hope that his flex-armor was enough to save his life. He didn’t close his eyes when the shot rang out, but he steeled himself for the pain of being hit by a blaster bolt. Much to his surprise, the other being fell, a smoking hole in the side of his head.

Keyde approached, heart beating faster from his near death experience, and noticed that the wound was near the crown of the head. This meant that the dead person was either shot from above or from a lower angle, deeper inside the camp. Keyde, through his fear-clouded mind, took the latter option as there was only clear sky along the hypothetical trajectory of the former.

He dropped behind the barricade and swept in front of him. Finding no one he, moved forward, “Hoth,” he said, stepping behind a rectangular tent. "Did you see who took that shot?” His breathing was heavy and beads of sweat formed on his brow. He felt exhausted, but had only been fighting for a few minutes at most.

“No,” she replied, moving to a new location. "Busy moving. Why?”

“It came from inside the camp, Blue Ear...” He paused for a moment. "Was that you?”

“Nope,” came the curt answer.

“Fish,” Keyde started. "Do we have anyone already inside the camp?”

“Not that I know of,” Fish answered. "But there’s no accounting for shifting loyalties.”

With that comforting thought Keyde pressed on, with Kalt moving up behind him. They still had seen no sign of Reck. The sound of blaster fire had died down; either the terrorists were dead or had fled. Keyde approached another tent with what looked like antennas and a dish sticking out of the top.

“Coming up to what looks like a communications tent,” he said, taking up a position on one side of the entrance. “Could they have other camps on this planet?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time intel was wrong,” Fish’s tone was very matter-of-fact. “Blue Ear, we get any update from command?”

“Nah,” was the one word reply.

Keyde entered quickly scanning the area, his weapon pointing where he was looking. The room was empty and bore no signs of combat. “There’s no one here,”

“Check the…” Fish started, but was cut off by Kalt.

“Got movement towards the back, four humanoid beings,” A shot rang out. “Three now.”

The return fire crossed in front of the opening to the Comms tent, blocking Keyde’s exit. The sound of an E-11 blaster sounded from the far side of the tent. With a break in the fire Keyde rushed out of the tent, firing blind in the direction of the terrorists as he slid behind a piece of metal stuck into the ground. He pressed his back against the metal, breathing fast. He checked his powerpack, noting that he had expended nearly half his weapon’s shots in just that run. He peeked over the wall and saw the group Kalt had mentioned. They were just two now and one appeared to be pushing a long repulsor crate, while the other provided covering fire.

Fish approached from the far side of the comms tent, his E-11 blasting away at the being protecting their comrade. Under the withering assault, a spurt of flame ran up the being’s chest. He crumpled to the ground, a blackened hole over his heart. The last terrorist, maybe recognizing that they were alone, now took cover behind the crate they were moving and opened it. This gave Keyde a clear look at the face. She looked female and the light seemed to shimmer off her golden skin. There was a large silvery burn scar that covered most of the right side of her face, giving her an overall intimidating appearance and unnerving the already uneasy Zabrak. Keyde only got a moment to see the scar as it was soon obscured by a rocket launcher.

He scrambled to get clear, running towards the valley wall. There was a loud hiss then an even louder explosion. The shockwave knocked him slightly off balance, sending him crashing to the ground, covering his head with his hands. A moment later he heard the sounds of a speeder bike moving away from the camp.

Kalt turned the corner to find Keyde. “You alright?”

He rolled over on to his back still a little winded. “Maybe. I’m not bleeding am I?”

“No,” she said, stepping forward and helping Keyde to his feet. “I think that took us all by surprise.”

He rubbed his ears, trying the silence the ringing. “Where do terrorists get rocket launchers?”

“With enough credits you can get your hands on anything.” Keyde and Kalt approached the open crate, joining Fish and stepping around the still-smoking blast crater. The contents of the crate stunned them both. It was filled with rocket launchers, same as the one used by the gold-skinned woman.

“What’s in the box?” a voice called out from beside the group. “Is it valuable?” Keyde and Kalt turned to see Reck walking with another repulsor crate in front of him.

“Where were you?” Keyde asked, anger and a touch of worry in his voice.

“Let’s see...” The Jenet began counting off items on his fingers. “Disabling comms, securing valuable assets, oh, and sabotaging their speeder bikes.”

“You mean the one that just got away.” Kalt said, pointing in the direction of the fleeing being.

“Wait for it,” Reck held up one finger. Then, far off in the distance, there was the sound of screeching metal and another explosion. “I like to make them think they’ve won, before everything goes wrong.”

“You should have told us,” Kalt said, crossing her arms.

“And risk them hearing and messing up my plans? No way.” The sounds of footsteps drew the group’s attention. It was Marks and Blue Ear, with Patches in-between them, arms draped over their shoulders.

“What’d we miss,” Marks asked, shifting Patches weight a bit.

“Nothing.” Fish replied, “Is the camp clear?”

“We didn’t run into anyone.”

“Alright, call ahead and tell them camp is cleared. Mission complete.” Fish looked back to the crates. “Tell them we bear gifts.”

The two squads made their way back to the landing zone. Reck kept everyone away from the crate he had recovered. They boarded their transports; Chatter was waiting for Kalt, Keyde and Reck.

“Oh, you brought presents.” He moved toward the crate. “What is it?”

“Mine.” Reck growled, leveling his carbine at the pilot.

Chatter put up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, let’s get going,” The Lambda shuttle took off and made its way back to where it came from. “If you look through the front viewport, you’ll see the ugliest ship in the galaxy and your new home.” They looked forward and saw exactly what Chatter meant. It looked like the misbegotten offspring of a junkyard, with the main body of an Imperial Star Destroyer without its bridge tower and the front section of a Nebulon-B welded onto the nose. At the rear were two engine banks from Dreadnoughts that looked hastily tacked on at the last minute for propulsion. It would be a feat of engineering if it wasn’t so misshapen. “The Wanderer: made from pieces recovered from the Graveyard of Coruscant.” Chatter paused. “Wanderer control, this is shuttle Lang returning to base.”

“Acknowledged, shuttle Lang. Tell your passengers to meet Alpha once they’re on board.”

The pilot looked over his shoulder his eyes wide. “Ah, understood Wanderer control.” He turned off the comm and looked at the crew. “Good luck,” was all he said.

The three beings stepped off the craft on to the metal deck of the hangar. Around them were scattered various spare parts, everything from ARC-170s to TIE interceptors. Several fighters looked stripped for parts, their useless husks littering the area. The ships that looked the most useable were transports, Lambdas, Sentinels, and even a couple Bantha-Class transports. Looking around, they found the exit on the far side of the hangar. Towards the back they noticed a collection of crates set up around makeshift tables, and along the wall was a rudimentary counter made from discarded armor plates. A metal sign hung off of a cable stretched between two poles, with black painted letters that spelled out “Bay 94”. The team surmised that this was what passed for a lounge on this ship. Several crewmen sat at the ramshackle tables; some played sabacc while others carried on conversations with their mates, and some just sat quietly nursing whatever drink they had available.

“Excuse me,” Kalt called out. “Could any of you tell me where Alpha is?” All conversation stopped, the sabacc players put their cards down and threw sideways glances at the blue skinned Twi’lek. A few crewmembers coughed into their hands as an air of tension settled in. Keyde shifted his weight, growing uncomfortable. A Bothan stood up wearing what looked like grey military style fatigues. He walked over and threw a look over his shoulder,

“Sorry,” he started, “Boss tends to put us on edge. He can get intense sometimes.”

“Then why do you follow him?” Reck asked, standing behind his repulsor crate.

“Money’s damn good," the Bothan replied, faster than the group was expecting. He then went on to give the group detailed directions to the former Captain's office.

Kalt, Reck and Keyde followed the directions. The Jenet still pushed his crate ahead of him. Kalt knocked on the door and it slid open. The room they entered was dark and a humanoid figure sat in a chair, hunched over a holo-projection emanating from the desk. The figure tapped a button and the image faded away. As the lights came up the team got their first look at their employer. He was a human male, around forty years old, wearing charcoal grey, durasteel armor. It wasn’t Mandalorian based; the upper breastplate was one solid piece that covered the area of his ribcage. A slim black line separated it from the plate that protected his abdomen. Tufts of animal fur stuck out from under his pauldrons and a pelt of dark grey fur covered his back. On the desk was a helmet, rounded like a Mandalorian’s but the T-visor was empty and the area around the eyes was curved.

Along the back wall over his right shoulder stood a tall, broad-shouldered male Kerestian in a tan blast vest. A holster for a DT-57 blaster pistol hung from his right hip, a sheath for a darkstick on his left. His arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw set in stone.

“Ms. Bel’ator, Mr. Umbra, Mr. Yiisong,” the man began. His black hair was shaved on the sides with the top a little longer, letting his bangs hang down onto his forehead. “Reports from Alpin state that most of you were rather professional on your first job.” His dark eyes looked over to his datapad, then back up to the three beings in front of him. His irises were almost indistinguishable from his pupils; the only thing that separated them was a thin border of hazel. “You could use some work, but you’ll have time for training before your next mission. Which,” He pressed a button and the projection reappeared above his desk and he gave a rundown of the situation. The team was to infiltrate a former estate outside a town called Palisade on Kabal. It was being used as a data-uplink for their long range sensors. The mission was to slip in, deactivate the uplink, and get out. “I hear you are without a Comms,” Alpha continued. “You’re in luck. We have one available to attach to your squad.” Someone knocked and the door opened to reveal a young woman, twenty years old, wearing green forest camo and a Rebel style helmet. She looked like a member of the Endor strike team.

“Whisper reporting as ordered, sir.” She tucked a lock of blue hair under her helmet.

“This is Whisper, she’ll be your new Comms,” He hunched forward, narrowing his eyes at the group. “She is your only lifeline to us. You come back with her or you don’t come back at all.” His words were hard, and his eyes were intense. It sent a shiver up Keyde’s spine. This was what the crewmembers were talking about, this intensity. “Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Kalt was the only one to reply.

“Then, Lupus Squad, you’re dismissed. Mission beings in...” He checked a chrono on his desk. “Five standard hours. Use that time well.” The new team walked out of the room.

(Author's note: This is going to be my last update on this story for a while, have a project I'm trying to start so I'm putting this on extended hiatus. I still have plans for this fic but need to get another idea out of my head. Thank you all for reading.)