Beyond - Legends Before - Legends Saga - Legends Whiskers' One-Shots - Updated 8/25 w/ Chasing Ghosts (Late 2016 OC Challenge Response)

Well, I love writing them, even though I don't make them my top priority. I probably should, based on how popular they are. I know I already have two stories set up from previous entries, so there's no shortage of ideas to write.

I initially wanted Vader to actually surmise the truth about Leia in the story, until I did a fact check and discovered that he didn't know until the end, and that's four years away. So, I decided to make Vader be wrong. He likely knew of Obi-Wan's attachment to Siri and surmised that Leia could have been their daughter or someone elses.

As for the first, that's something that's covered in the comics themselves, and I'd kind of like to avoid novelizing them. I started this series as a fun exercise in seeing where the other characters not featured in that series would be in the wake of the destruction of the Rebellion. For the most part, the answer is "not well."

Thrawn vs. Ackbar. Something we were robbed of in the Legends EU, was something I've always wanted to see.

Thanks for reading and reviewing, Chyntuck. It is always appreciated.

 

Hello, everyone, today's tale is going to be a little on the short side, but the plot bunny hit while reading my Marvel Star Wars collection. I hope you enjoy it.

***

Title: The Saijo Aftermath
Genre: Drama
Characters: Lumiya
Timeframe: Months after the Battle of Endor
Summary: Lying in defeat after the Battle of Saijo, Dark Lady of the Sith Lumiya attempts to regain her strength and regroup

***

Pain filled Lumiya's brain, bursting from her back and spread outward. Her senses were overwhelmed. She felt the pain of the blaster wound, heard the report still ringing in her ears, saw the blood vessels in her eyes pulse with each and every heartbeat, smelled the burning electronics and skin, and tasted the blood in her mouth.

BEY. The thought came unbidden to her head. Metallic fingers scratched at the smooth surface of the Tof's royal palace. No, not Bey, she thought. She screamed as the still smoldering blaster wound contracted as she struggled to stand. The sounds echoed down the empty great hall of the palace. The half-Nagai rebel had been the one to fire the shot, but he wasn't the reason why she was here, practically dying in the halls of her former allies.

Skywalker...

The very surname was a curse, a blight upon the dark side of the Force as a whole and the galaxy with it. She had the woman in her sites, the spoiled princess just a second away from at least her meeting her end.

Her arms gave away, sending her crashing back into the floor again. Another jolt of agony lashed its way through her body. She scrambled to return to her feet again, the movements akin to a fish out of water and just as futile. Respirator-assisted breath slowed, eyelids growing heavy over green eyes. This was how it ended, she thought. Shot in the back and just left to pass into the Force.

"There's still time, Shira." The voice was maddening, an already open scar being dug into and the insides rearranged. "You can always make peace with yourself."

Lumiya opened her eyes and saw the tall man again. He was older than he looked the last time he had appeared to her, months ago. Grandfatherly, even. "Go away..."

"I led you astray, Shira, and I'm sorry."

She glared at the translucent blue apparition. eyes burning with fiery rage. The hatred she held for Anakin and his children churned in her stomach and rippled outward through her entire body. Images flashed through her sixth sense: an old man now new and then gone, the Imperial seal bathed in a crimson light next to a blue sun, a cancer spreading from beyond the stars and eating the entire galaxy, an aged Luke Skywalker standing beside a great pyre, grief forever marked on his face.

The sound of metal slapping onto the floor was faint to her ears, then louder as her left hand hit the ground again. Hate and pain filled every pore of her body, the dark side of the Force slowly beginning to knit her wounds together. "There'll be no more pity and words from you, master." She spat the final word out. Anakin's phantom face fell. "I'm still breathing and that means the Sith still live."

One foot was flat on the floor, then another, before finally Lumiya was standing once more. The ghost of her former master, now a weak and pathetic looking old man, watched as gathered her strength and disappeared just as quickly as he had come.

A gasp sounded from the grand entrance of the hall. Lumiya turned to face it, a predator looking at their latest meal. A human woman stood motionless at the door, a coroner's stasis bed hovering in front of her. She was young and fair skinned, brown hair styled behind her head. Shock widened her brown eyes. Close enough, Lumiya thought.

"Wh..." Any words that the rebel had wanted to speak were drowned out by her choked cries. She rose in the air with the simplest of gestures, legs kicking towards the ground in vain.

Lumiya held the rebel there and pushed a strand of red hair that had fallen in front of her scarred eye. "This path will only lead to ruin, Shira, but it is yours to walk down..." Anakin turned away, spirit dissipating into nothingness. She screamed, a wordless shout that reverberated the room, the accompanying Force shock wave cracking the marble columns. She slammed the captive rebel into one, body impacting with a wet thud. The lifeless body crashed into the pillar again and again, red canals staining the white stone.

The anger subsided, replaced by the agony of her wound. Lumiya limped out of the building, taking a less noticed side entrance to reduce her chances of being discovered by the celebrating rebel troops.

Her shuttle lifted off from Saijo unnoticed, the green valleys of the planet soon giving way to the darkness of deep space. The Rebel forces that surrounded the planet were still involved with the aftermath of the space battle over the planet, shuttles and light freighters rescuing ejected pilots and salvaging disabled fighters. None dared to challenge a shuttle with stolenAlliancecodes.

Stabbing pain lanced down her back as she stood from the pilot's chair as the shuttle entered hyperspace. In three hours, the automatic systems would kick in, leaving her in deep space. Her small cabin was waiting for her, and the vast emptiness would give her more than enough time to heal.

Her cot was soft and comfortable as she laid upon her side. An image from her vision came unbidden to her mind: the blue sun and crimson Imperial seal that reminded her of Ysanne Isard, Director of Imperial Intelligence and someone Lumiya knew had designs on the Imperial throne. She still owed Lumiya a favor from long ago, back when she was still known as Shira to people other than ghosts.


Lumiya pinpointed her rage and a heightened it, closing her eyes and slipping into a deep Force trance.

 

whoa. Intense! the rage just permeates everything. She lives, but only for vengeance and hate. Pure rage propels her. Great imagery here - I could hear the metal raking on the ground, see the "canals of blood."

 

I believe I mentioned already when commenting on a previous story that I don't know much about Lumiya's younger years, but this is definitely how I imagine her. Like divapilot said, she is propelled by pure rage, and that poor Rebel medic paid the price for Luke and Leia by just happening to be there. I like how you introduce a redeemed Anakin in her thoughts every time. He can try to soothe her all he wants, mere words can't break through her barriers -- quite the opposite, they infuriate her even more. In many ways, she is the perfect villain

 

I love setting the scenes like that, letting readers get a very good picture in their mind about what's happening.

As for her rage, she's been a bit of a chessmaster early on, but in the Marvel comics she does seem guided by her hatred of everything Skywalker. I see this experience really changing her.

Wrong place at the very wrong time for that poor medic.

As I said, I think in another story's notes, I wanted a spiritual Anakin to appear throughout. He's trying to redeem himself of his mistakes as Vader, and his apprentices would certainly be at the top of his list.

Thank you both for reading!

 

Title: The Lost Hope
Characters: Galen Wentlas (OC)
Timeline: A New Hope Infinities
Special Notes: Inspired by Green Day's 21 Guns for the Chart Hits Challenge by Ewok Poet.

***

The desk felt smooth under Galen's fingers. It had been polished recently, the Alderaanian oak's rings and whorls accented by the burgundy finish. He had bought it when he had first taken command of the Resurgent Dawn, a tribute to all of the Alderaanians that served under his command. Unshed tears burned in hazel eyes, each of his breaths deep and steady.

Three days ago, it had been a moderately priced desk that he had bought for 200 credits, marked with scratches, scuffs and caf stains. Now it was worth more than his entire ship, one of the few remaining relics of Alderaan. He slammed his fist against the surface, datapads clattering and flimsi flapping to the floor.

He buried his head in his hands, fair fingers twisting through strands of brown and gray hair. He didn't have to be strong for anyone in the solitude of his office, no family in a deeper grief than a Coruscanti-born could ever be, no crew in desperate need of their commanding officer to keep even the slightest shred of morale. It was just him.

The digital chime of his door rang out loudly. Galen straightened immediately and hastily attempted to straighten his hair. He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the empty office. "Come in," he finally said.

A male Duros stepped in, the green-skinned alien wearing the dark-green Alliance fleet uniform in stark contrast to the more prevalent Alderaanian-blue jumpsuit that the Dawn's crew preferred. Prominent brows over glowing red eyes were upraised in his species sign of worry.

"Admiral," he said.

"Captain Land," Galen replied. Hol Land had been a captain in the Duros resistance movement before the disastrous Alliance attempt to liberate the system at the space city of Vnas. "Can I help you?"

Land lowered his head and remained silent. His lipless mouth curled downwards.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Galen coaxed.

Land looked up at Galen again. "Admiral, there was just a HoloNet announcement... I've ordered silence, but you'd better..." Land coughed and wiped his damp forehead. "You'd better see for yourself."

The walk from Galen's office to the communications office was short, passing by subdued bridge staff. The interior of the communications suite was different. As Land unlocked the door with a code cylinder, Galen could see that the understaffed room had descended into chaos. The three junior officers inside were openly weeping, one had rested his head on his arm, his back wracking with sobs.

"I ordered this room sealed while I went to get you. I didn't want this to get out before you could prepare a statement..."

Galen approached the main HoloNet transceiver station, each step getting progressively heavier. When he reached the ensign trying desperately to keep her composure in front of her captain and admiral, his feet felt as if they were covered by the dense muck of Zimouz 9.

"Ensign, show him..." Land said.

The large holoscreen in front of them flared to life, the Imperial seal embossed with the logo of HoloNet News flashed largely before retreating to the corner of the screen. A light-skinned man in a grey Imperial uniform sat at a stark grey desk.

"Sentients of the Empire, I have breaking news for you tonight!" His voice was filled with pride and haughtiness even as his face betrayed no such emotion. The screen changed from a sterile studio on Coruscant to a starscape, a bright gas giant in the corner. There were millions of gas giants in the galaxy, but Galen knew without knowing exactly which one was shown.

"No..." he croaked out.

Three Gallofree transports moved silently in the void, escorted by hundreds of TIE fighters. The image shifted, showing the large, wingless Mon Calamari cruiser Independence surrounded by the same. It's hull was pocked and cratered by too many carbon scores to count.

"The rebel fleet surrounding their hidden base, deep in the Yavin system, has been found and captured by the brave men of the Empire!"

The screen shifted, replaced by the stark walls of an Imperial military base. A parade of stormtroopers walked past the camera, leading the captive Princess Leia Organa, Jan Dodonna, and various others to their waiting fates. "The terrorist leaders were captured in battle after the destruction of their base, fleeing like cowards from Imperial justice," Kastle continued.

Galen rubbed at his temples so hard that he thought that he'd tear the skin off of his head. Mon Mothma was led through the halls, someone still looking dignified despite the fate that awaited her.

"Turn it off," Galen said.

"Admiral," Land said. "There's more..."

Galen forced himself to watch it, eyes burned as he dared not to blink. The fourth moon of Yavin was shown, it's once lush jungle now only rocks orbiting the gas giant like miniscule rings.

"Kriffing hell..."

"The Empire's latest weapon is responsible for this massive victory!" The screen changed to an artificial moon, a large circular indention prominent on its northern hemisphere. "The DS-1 Orbital Battle Station, the Peace Star, has lived up to its name, destroying the rebel base with zero casualties for the heroes of the Empire!"

Galen's strength fled from his body. He felt himself go limp only for Captain Land to hold him upright. The killer of Alderaan had now become the killer of the entire rebellion. He watched the rest of the newscast silently, absorbing it all in. Any sense of Galen Wentlas disappeared, shrinking ever slightly into his body. He was Admiral Wentlas now, and he could break down later.

"Initiate Protocol Zerek," he said to the ensign operating the station. "No communications, in or out, unless it's Admiral Ackbar or Senator Bel Iblis on the other end." Bel Iblis had left theAlliancejust recently, but Galen hoped that the latest developments would bring him back into the fold.

He turned to Captain Land. "Captain, I'll order the fleet to jump to our next destination." His face grew grim. "No one gets out of this room until I have something to address the crew with. It shouldn't take more than a day, and there's rations in the supply closest. I don't want my crew to find out about this from a gloating rodder, they deserve more than that. Lock up the armory, too. The few suicides we had after Alderaan will look like nothing once word of this gets out."

Land's face became durasteel. "Agreed, sir."

Galen rubbed his raw eyes. "I guess I'd better get to it, then."

"Admiral Wentlas?" The voice of the young ensign was weak and trembled in the silence of the room.

"Yes, Ensign Parfren?" He looked at her with a measure of pity. She was just a year older than his daughter, just joining the fight against the Empire mere months before it ended.

"What are we going to do?"

Galen wished he could find the words to comfort her, comfort himself and his unknowing family. He searched his mind for any scenario that could provide even the slightest hint of hope. His shoulders sank along with his gut.

"I don't know," he said. "Let me know if Ackbar or Bel Iblis comm us."

He stepped out of the communications suite and sealed it with his code cylinder so that only he or Captain Land could unlock it. He walked down the hallways, thoughts rising to the surface before sinking back down into the depths. How could he possibly tell thousands of beings that the Rebellion was all but over? That Alderaan could never be avenged and that their friends, families and loves had died for absolutely nothing? He hung has head as he trekked through the passages. He had written hundreds of death notices over his nearly 20 years in command, but now everything just seemed so final.

"Of course it is..." he muttered. "Most of the Alliance leadership is dead or captured. Why wouldn't it be final?" He stared around the hall, grateful at its emptiness for the first time in his life.

The door to his quarters loomed ahead, the lump in his throat nearly strangling him as he stopped. He'd have to tell Anya, there was no doubt in his mind about that. He never liked keeping secrets from his wife, even when they were above her rank. This secret was too big to keep from her, though, no matter how much it hurt her already shattered heart.

Galen opened the door and walked in. Their quarters had once been two VIP rooms in the fore of the ship, the walls knocked out and rearranged to make an ample living space for a small family. Alexis's room was to the left, the door closed and almost certainly locked. She had barred herself in there after hearing the news about Alderaan, barely even coming out to eat.

Anya sat on a blue couch, head straight and eyes near unblinking. She turned her head towards him as he entered the room, the movement more suiting of a droid than a living woman. Along with Alexis's exile in her room, Anya had been nothing short of an organic droid ever since the news of her homeworld broke throughout the ship.

"You're early."

He remained silent as he walked over to the couch and collapsed next to her. The entertainment center was on, showing some old show that had been cancelled years before. "It's over..." he finally said. "It's all over..."

Her hand found his and softly squeezed it. "What's over?" No matter how kind the gesture was, her voice was still flat with the numbness of grief.

"They found the base on Yavin 4 and they blew it up just like Alderaan." Anya inhaled sharply, whether it was a sob or a gasp he couldn't tell. "They caught Princess Leia, Dodonna, and Mon Mothma. Add in Bail's death and Bel Iblis taking his gravball and going home, it's a few admirals left."

They sat in the relative silence, the laugh track of the comedy show blaring every few minutes only to be drowned out by their sniffling. "What do I tell the crew?" Galen said.

"Just be honest," Anya said. "Like you were with me."

Galen shrugged. He searched any way to possibly sweetcoat the news but came up empty. The others in the fleet had a planet to return to, a home to fall back on. Alderaanians had nothing. The young ensign's words in the comm suite rang in his ears and he gave her words new life. "What do we do after this?"


Silence followed once more as the Resurgent Dawn and the myriad of ships floated in the void before trading one section of deep space for another.

***

Spoiler: Author's Notes

* This is yet another entry into my series of shorts based off of the comic book A New Hope Infinities by Chris Warner. In it, I primarily decided to focus on EU characters, characters from other Star Wars films that are never mentioned in the comic, or OCs in this case, dealing with the events of the comics. What happens, you will readily see.

* This is the earliest entry in the series, taking place hours at the most from the common point of divergence.

* Hol Land is named after X-Wing and TIE Fighter video game designer Lawrence Holland, appropriate for a character that first appeared as a background character in a short story I wrote that involved Keyan Farlander.

* Not much is known about the Battle of Vnas, but I agreed with the theory that it had to take place around one of Duro's many floating space cities. Here, I also implied that Land had joined the Alliance proper after the battle. I'm not sure if I want to have Galen fighting in that battle or not, so I'm going to leave that purposely vague.

* As we enter the communications room (which was a real bantha to place on a dreadnaught's hull...) we can see just how much the news has broken them down, especially when combined with Alderaan's destruction.

* I added the Independence to the Battle of Yavin because the X-wing strategy guide implies that it's there or close enough to be captured in the immediate aftermath. The Gallofree freighters being surrounded by TIEs is directly from a panel in the comics.

* Also in this sequence we have my first reference to something from Disney canon, with the reporter being identified as Alton Kastle. I included him because the name is so very, very similar to former northeast radio DJ and current pro wrestler Dalton Castle, who I'm a big fan of (pun intended).

* Mon Mothma had to be included as captured here, as I wanted an extra finality to what I've been calling the Disaster at Yavin, as well as her execution in Dignity being both the first story in this series, but also this short story thread.

* The Peace Star moniker also comes from the comic series.

* Protocol Zerak (Aurabesh for "z") comes from a thought I had that the Alliance had to have some sort of backup plan in case a major decapitating strike happens. In this case, it's kind of vague, but it requires complete audio/visual silence from all ships until the senior-most commander (be it a member of the triumvirate or the leading admiral) contacts them. For those who have read the others in this series, you know what happens next...)

* As mentioned in Surviving Hope and here, Anya has gone completely numb after Alderaan. And neither her nor Galen have any idea what to do about anything now.

 

That's one of the things that really struck me about the original comic miniseries: the Alliance suffers such a quick 1-2 punch in such a short time. It just never goes into it, so that falls to the fanfic authors like myself!

All that's left are a few admirals and the fleet, but their morale is absolutely crushed. The "Remember Alderaan" campaign can't exist now, because there's no backing to the statement. There's no Alliance left, no real Alliance anyway, to avenge the planet and her murdered citizens.

It's meant to be different, just Galen taking her words and spinning them just slightly for his own question.

Thanks for reading, Findswoman!

 

Wow...if that's not a downer, then I have never seen one. I can totally see that the Wentlas family, Alderaani refugees we grew to love in your other stories are wondering if the war is futile in the end - which perfectly captures the message that (I think) Billie Joe Armstrong had on his mind when writing 21 Guns. The way I see them, having been a fan of the band since their big breakout in 1994/95, Green Day songs are always "layered" - they have an extraverted, universal aspect and an introverted, personal one. You aced the first and there are hints of the second. With that in mind, whether you knew this, saw it the way I do or not - you have responded to the challenge in a way that compliments the song and its meaning! Bravo!

P.S. You may want to check the story and footnotes for words that were not separated, typos et cetera. There's quite a lot of it!

 

The Alderaanians already had it bad, but to add the destruction of Yavin and the capture of several leaders of the Rebellion to it? I'd say that really qualifies as a downer.

War is futile in the end, and no matter what continuity that the family is in, the war is destined to nearly break them all. I find this especially ironic considering that the family only exists because of the war.

There are hints at the personal tragedy mainly because I didn't go that farther, seeing that I had taken the story to a logical story. Thank you for your kind words, and I'm glad that I was able to complement the song to your liking.

I hate it when that happens...

 

Excellent and poignant reactions to something so devastating.

 

Thank you, WarmNyota. I wanted to show how such news would happen on a smaller level, from the officer in the comm suite completely broken to Galen nearly fainting from the news. It's just this complete 1-2 punch that hardly anyone in that situation could take in stride.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

 

LucasArts Drabbles Part I

If there's been one thing that has captured my love for Star Wars more in the over 25 years that I've been a fan, it's been the video games. So, with the intent to try out drabbles, I used some of my favorite games as inspiration. Here's part 1.

Knights of the Old Republic

His eyes burned yellow as he stared at the screen at the phantom beyond. He shouldn't be there, couldn't! If the Jedi didn't kill his master aboard his flagship, the fire from his own should have done the job itself.

Yet Revan stood next to Bastila in the Tatooine sands, lightsaber in hand, a pawn of the Jedi once more.

Malak cupped his hands to his face in thought, thumbs resting on the cold metal prosthesis that was his lower jaw. Bandon stepped unbidden into the room. They would be the only dark lords remaining soon enough...

Republic Commando

"Listen, Boss, I know we're supposed to wait for the 501st to come in, but I can blow this door now!"

Delta-38 listened to the demolition expert's pleas, eyes rolling behind his thick helmet. They had been waiting for Anakin's legion for an hour now, each one up to their own hobbies.

Sev was sitting next to the bunker's door, helmet tilted slightly up as the sniper munched on a ration, while Fixer modified his datapad to play the latest nonsense game someone had put out.

"War isn't just blowing things up, you know?" Boss said.

"It isn't?"

Battlefront

Warm jungle rain hit the paled stones of the arena, followed by the heat of red and green blaster fire. The fighters, clad in white armor and green fatigues, were not the first to do battle in the oval ring.

The red blood that leaked down from steps as the dying Imperial clutched in vain at his wound was not the first. It had seen the red-skinned Massassi battle in sacrificial rites, had watched as they fell dead in front of the dark-hair god.

Days passed and once more rain pelted the stone, the bodies of war past gone again.

 

It's an interesting way of writing because I have to get to the gist of story and now. Some were a lot easier than others.

I'm really glad that I was able to get the majority of their personalities around in such a short format. I almost certainly have to do more every now and then. Thanks for reading, Findswoman. Now, on to part II, where we have a favorite game of mine, a game that got a LOT of promotion, and one from a genre that seemingly everybody tried in the late 90s-early 00s.

***

Force Unleashed

Assassin.

Slave.

Weapon.

Starkiller had been called all of these things and more. He was Vader's secret apprentice, a dark blade forged to carry out his master's will and it alone.

He was nothing now, a nameless tool without a wielder. The old wound that Vader inflicted still stung, even though the physical stab had healed. He stared at the ruined facade of the old Jedi Temple, called to it by some urge he can't identify. His feelings tell things, though:

He's not a slave.

He's not a weapon.

He has a name.

Demolition

Jabba had always enjoyed particularly violent ways of entertainment. From feeding unwanted guests to his pet rancor or kell dragons, to making them fight each other in grand arenas. Sentients fought in those arenas, too, but no mere gladiatorial game would satisfy the Hutt's bloodlust.

A snowspeeder piloted by two sisters rushed past a scout walker as a skiff fired blaster shots at an Clone Wars-era hovertank. All the while, Jabba watched, munching on a living creature.

The games had begun.

Jedi Outcast

They had been partners for twelve years and lovers for seven. They had saved each others lives far too often to count. Now Jan Ors was dead, killed by Kyle's own weakness. He sat alone in the cockpit of the Raven's Claw, deafened by the silence of the now when there had been jokes that morning.

He could have killed that lizard and his apprentice if he still had command of the Force. It was too late to save Jan, he thought as he entered familiar coordinates, but he'd never be that weak again...

 

This is a very interesting concept and though I did not play any of these games, I'm vaguely familiar with their plots and I think it's a pretty cool idea to add introspection, thoughts and feelings to what is otherwise somewhat mechanic.

The Battlefront one is my favourite - excellent detail, to the point where it stinks and it's moist.

 

Eloquent and pivotal snapshots of character insights - as they come to vital realizations.

 

Even I didn't play Demolition for long... It was completely uninspired compared to its template, Twisted Metal.

I wanted to add a lot on introspection, even in such a short format, because I always wanted to know what was in Malak's mind when he saw Revan alive for the first time in a year, or what exactly was going through Kyle's mind when he set course for the Valley of the Jedi in Outcast. Fanfic has really given us the opportunity to do that.

I liked the Battlefront one, too. Yavin Arena was one of my favorite levels and I got this real Colosseum ruins feel about it. It's seen so much bloodshed over the years, so what's a skirmish between Imperials and Rebels to it? I wanted convey its timelessness, from Massassi gladiator games, to Exar Kun's (the dark-haired god) sacrifice of the majority of them to attain immortality, to finally the skirmish depicted in Battlefront.

Force Unleashed was interesting to write, because I didn't exactly know how to approach it. I could have gone the power angle, but that didn't really fit in with the more introspective/lament tone of the majority of them. So, I took a page from the book and the PS2 version (the "lesser" versions had the Jedi Temple levels for free to compensate for reduced features) and had Starkiller make his final trip to the Jedi Temple. The search for his identity isn't that much a part of the game, but it really stood out to me. As for Revan and Starkiller talking, that'd certainly be an interesting conversation, as both had been raised as someone they weren't--if you can call what happened with Starkiller as "raising."

For being video game characters, most of them had very developed personalities and it was very fun to get into their heads.

Thank you all for reading and your reviews. They're certainly appreciated.

 

Title: Behind the Lines
Genre: Action/War Drama
Timeline: Legends Continuity, Yuuzhan Vong War
Characters: Alexis Wentlas, Gavin Merridon
Summary: Leading a company of New Republic soldiers against the Yuuzhan Vong and their slave soldiers, Alexis Wentlas finds herself cut off from any support.

***

"Picking up a bunch of life signs out there, Commander."

The young private held a bulky scanner in his hand, twin antennae jutting out. He, like all of his remaining squad mates, wore a green poncho over the white body armor worn by the army of theNewRepublic.

Gloved hands grasped a blaster rifle older than the majority of the beings under her command. Hazel eyes scanned the forest ahead of her squad's makeshift fort.

"Normalor them?" Alexis Wentlas asked. A nervous shake of the head was her only answer. "Figures," she muttered. Quick strides took her to a robed man, the visible servomotors in her artificial right leg whirred and hummed.

"Sense anything, Gavin?"

The Jedi was decade younger than her, a thin, fair face covered with hair several shades darker than her own brown. He closed his eyes and did whatever Jedi did. He opened them quickly enough, weariness and fear. "Chazrach."

"Positions!" Alexis yelled. The tawny skin of her face was soon covered near completely by a helmet. She pulled the visor down over her eyes, tinting the brightened forest in orange.

Too few soldiers threw themselves against the wooden barricades, long-barreled blaster rifles pointed forward. Alexis checked the level of her power cell and primed the blaster. "No suppression fire, it doesn't work anyway," she cried out. "Short bursts on that E-web, we might need it later."

She drew in deep, steady breaths that fogged in the cool air. The Chazrach were dumb, a slave race that the invaders used as their blunt force attacks. Slaves or not, they were still a force to be reckoned with.

Somewhere in the distance a twig snapped, followed by another and then another until the sound grew into a cacophony of incoming dread. Alexis turned towards her soldiers, looking at their faces--young but old at the same time--each of them filled with fear and weariness. Some of them wouldn't be alive in an hour. The grim thought was followed by a grimmer one: none of them might be alive in an hour. Her fingers fished out the small locket around her neck and she kissed the dirty and battered piece of precious metal.

Green shapes too numerous to count raced through the trees. Alexis didn't need to see them to know their features. The Chazrach were a stocky lizard species almost as tall as a human; a long snout, powered by strong muscles and filled with sharp teeth. They were covered with thick scales almost as tough as body armor.

"Hold your fire..." Alexis warned.

The mass of lizardmen advanced at a run, the sharp carapaces of their organic short blades glaring in the sunlight. A hundred meters now. Ninety...

"Hold your fire..." Fingers traced the pommel of the vibroblade on her belt. No matter how many of them that they managed to mow down, at least a few would reach the barricades. Then the real battle would begin.

"I've gotta bead on their handler, commander," Jen Nings said. The sniper's prone position at the front of the upraised e-web emplacement gave him a view of the battle better than anyone along with a safety that the others envied.

"Take it!" Alexis never heard his shot, only the sound of the magnetically-propelled Verpine projectile streaking through the air. All she heard after was a barely audible "got 'im."

The racing horde in front of them had gotten closer, 50 meters at the least. "FIRE!" she screamed.

The cracks of blaster fire filled the air as her soldiers opened up. Red lances of energy mowed through the Chazrach ranks, dropping many but still too few. The e-web fired, a staccato of bursts that sounded as if some great fabric was being torn asunder again and again.

Scaly bodies fell like number sticks, yet for every one that fell, two more seemed to replace it. Alexis bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. The horde drew closer, thinned but still formidable. She reached down to her belt and felt the two grenades attached to her belt. She'd used one days previously, before the hope of being resupplied had been thoroughly dashed.

"Grenades!" Her order was answered with 20 red flares flying from their makeshift fort. Muffled thumps issued through the enemy ranks as glowing shreds of metal tore their way through thick scales and into the soft flesh beneath.

In the aftermath of a follow up blaster volley, masses of Chazrach bodies twitched on the leaf-filled ground, the dead and dying trampled on by what was left of their comrades. Thirty left, Alexis estimated, maybe forty at the most.

She pulled her vibroblade from its scabbard and thumbed the blade on. The green hue of Gavin's lightsaber blade illuminated the area before she could even order the rest of the group to arm themselves for melee. "Blades!" she called out. They stood at the ready as the Chazrach closed the last few meters, 28 beings with vibroblades out, Gavin with his lightsaber at the ready, the brutish Malcolm with his blade meshtaped to his rifle as a makeshift bayonet, and the two beings on the sniper emplacement with blaster pistols drawn.

Her breathes came quick and deep, the anticipation and fright building to a crescendo as the pistols flared. Malcolm's ersatz spear claimed the life of the first Chazrach to reach them. Alexis studied the one right in front of her: a long scar from some previous battle winding its way down a blind eye and deeply into its snout. Of course I'd get the experienced one... she thought.

The chitin blade whistled through the air towards her, a sideways slice that she intercepted easily. She gave the invader a third of a meter inside of the barricades, half remembered lessons from over 20 years previously told her to study all of the enemy's movements: how their eyes moved, which leg they carried their weight on, their stance.

Alexis feinted a slash to the left, arm barely moving but the Chazrach still fell for it. She stabbed forward, blade slicing through the reptile's scales like they were mere cloth. Another raced towards her, eyes filled with rage and lipless mouth snarling. Alexis readied herself before a red blaster bolt from above slammed into the alien 's forehead.

The melee dragged on, the Chazrach swarming over the wooden and plasteel barricades and theNewRepublicslashed away. Alexis's arms tired at the constant swinging, stabbing and blocking, blood from both the alien lizards and a small scratch above her brow stinging her eyes. Through blurry vision she watched as Malcolm's bayonet caught in the ribs of a dying enemy. He pulled and pulled with all of his might, shooting at the wound to try and loosen it. No cries for attention alerted him of the attack coming from behind him until it had already nearly decapitated him.

Gavin was in middle of two enemies, green lightsaber blade moving so fast to intercept and riposte attacks that it appeared as a single verdant streak in the dying light. She'd been skeptical of allowing a Jedi to be embedded with her group, the Vong seemed to be drawn to him like a magnet, even more than her exposed cybernetic leg did, but his skill as a warrior seemed to offset that. Until now. He slashed the warrior in front of him and pivoted to block the incoming strike that he didn't even see.

Another Chazrach broke through, battle mad and filled with his master's anti-Jedi dogma. Alexis rushed it, shoulder hitting the beastman's arm and side, the breath exploding out of her own lungs as they both fell to the ground. Her blade was still in her hands, whitened knuckles aching. She stabbed the creature as it struggled to get up, and then again, scraping against a rib bone. Still it struggled to get up, to reach the organic blade that fallen from its grasp. Alexis stabbed again and once more, the final jab stilling it.

The last one had fallen by the time that she regained her footing. Inside the walls were too many Chazrach bodies to count, along with ten of her own soldiers. It had been a miracle that more of her soldiers hadn't been killed. She looked deeper into the woods, where the Yuuzhan Vong themselves were out there, somewhere.

***

Alexis sat beside the e-web's power generator, moved from its location on the emplacement and into the covered back portions of the inner trenches. The inner section had been full when she had set them up just under a week previously, over 100 sentients had made their crowded home under the thick tarp. She looked around at the glowlamp-illuminated space, only ten lived now, each attack steadily whittling them down. Not even the 100 she set out with had any hope of escape, ten didn't stand any chance.

She set down the last power pack into the growing pile, all of the charges as equalized as they could be. The generator's display blinked a despondent red. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she leaned her back against the dirt trench. She held the locket in a dirt encrusted hand, activating the holoemitter within. A young girl appeared in the air, five years old and waving happily, a toothy grin on her face. Unbidden tears fell from her eyes as her heart sank deep. She wept softly into her other hand, quiet sobs never reaching where the others could hear.

"Commander?" Nings stood meters away, keeping a respectful distance. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but there's news."

Alexis straightened up, extinguishing the hololocket quickly. A quick swipe at her eyes with her poncho's sleave left damp streaks in the dust. "Good or bad?"

"Verrens managed to get through the Vong jamming for a couple of minutes."

"Did HQ reply?"

Nings' face remained neutral. "If they were there, they never got a chance to reply. The damn Vong jammed us again before they could reply back."

"What did he get out?"

Nings shrugged. "Numbers, location, the basics."

Alexis forced a smile. "It's better than nothing."

Nings scoffed. "Not much..."

She stood up, gathering the loaded energy cells in a bag. "It's still something." She handed a bunch of them to the sniper. "Well, we better get these things passed out. Don't want the Vong to catch us without them."


As she walked to the center of the makeshift room, she gazed out into the alien sky, looking at the cluster of stars and rings that surrounded the world, hoping to see the running lights of personnel shuttles on the horizon. Her eyes saw nothing in that sky, no shuttles, no landing craft. Yet.

 

Well, the name Yuuzhan Vong originated from a group of writers eating at a Thai restaurant, so you never know.

I see the Chazrach as what could become of the denizens of the galaxy if the Vong had won, and as you can see what happened to the poor Rodians may not even have been what the original species looked like. I also wanted to show some variety, even in the main horde, a "hero model" if you will. There was also one thing that I felt I had to do: in a very, very earlier work that was lost to truncation, Gavin's father helps save Galen's life in the Clone Wars. I wanted Alexis to unknowingly return the favor.

Truly a pyrrhic victory. They managed to live, but lost half their forces and vital ammunition.

She is indeed Alexis's daughter. As for you now knowing she had one, don't feel bad. The latest, chronologically, Alexis story took place in 4 ABY, right around Endor. A lot can happen in ~20 years.

There is a part two incoming, so don't you worry. Whether or not you'll like it is another thing...

 

Behind The Lines Part Two


***

"Commander!" The sudden voice jolted Alexis out of her sleep, her hand reacted out of instinct as it reached for the blaster rifle by her side. She was alert in a second, adrenaline fighting off the exhaustion that only a few hours sleep couldn't slay.

"What is it, Nings?"

The thin sniper shook his head, matted long hair swinging. "Cheryl picked up something, you better go see."

Alexis stood up, muscles and bones in her legs creaking and popping. Too many days in the trenches and too little sleep, she thought.

The two found Cheryl laying prone in an observation slope along the northern trench line. The Kiffar scout so still that only light breathing alerted them to the fact that she was still alive. A pair of electrobinoculars was pressed tightly to her copper face.

"You said you saw something?" Alexis whispered.

Cheryl didn't say a word, only removed the binocs from her eyes and handed them up for Alexis to take. She took them and kneeled in front of the trench.

"Twenty degrees," Cheryl finally said, voice barely audible. "Past range marker 2 at 15.5 mags."

Alexis viewed the world in shades of green, the artificial clearing that surrounded the camp for five meters and the pile of Chazrach bodies carefully placed in front of it in 10 meter intervals for as far as her soldiers had dared. She found the target between two trees, a surprisingly lithe being that stood nearly as tall as a Wookiee. Its sloped forehead was adorned with ritualistic scars and tattoos, a small serpent coiled itself around bracers made of thick crab shell.

"That the only Vong you saw?" Alexis said.

"It's a scout," Cheryl replied. "Probing our defenses at best, getting ready to do some damage at the worst."

Alexis handed the scout back her electrobinoculars before she turned her head to Jen. "Keep an eye on him. If he gets closer to us than the second marker, take him out."

"Will do, commander."

Alexis turned from the trenches and headed back to their makeshift keep, the solid gray tarp shielding beings below from the elements. Jen followed her, keeping in step.

"Commander, do you really think that Verrens managed to get through?"

Alexis ran a hand through her dirty brown hair. "I don't know, but I certainly hope so."

Nings was insistent. "If he did, then where the hell are they? He broke through the jamming four hours ago!"

Alexis stopped and turned around to face him. "If I knew where the rest of our forces were, believe me, I'd ask them myself." She gestured wildly with her free hand, struggling to come with something, anything that could be at least partially inspiring. "I have no idea what the situation is like out there, only what it's like here. And here?" Her hands dropped to her sides. "Here it's bad enough."

She turned around and walked back to her sleeping spot. Around the group, the six other survivors of her company slept an uneasy sleep. She turned to face Nings again. "We run, we die for sure. We stay here? Maybe we live. A sliver of a chance is better than none at all."

"We should have left a long time ago."

Anger flashed over her face. "Was that before or after that flying manta-thing destroyed our speeder? Or would you rather risk a hike through a hundred kilometers of forest containing Force knows what?"

A soldier stirred beside both of them, pulling the reflective blanket down from his face. "If you two are done arguing, I'd really like to sleep. At least the Vong would be more considerate..."

Nings looked down at the soldier, now halfway back asleep, before storming back to his post. Alexis did nothing but stand there and watch what little control of the situation she had slowly drift out of her hands like sand in a timeglass. She returned to her place, leaned back against the cold earth wall and closed her eyes.

Alexis shivered in the open air. All around her was the frozen tundra of the planet Hoth, smoke rose from downed snowspeeders and crashed walkers. Her breath clouded in the air and joined with the black smoke into a fog that surrounded the entire area. Her right leg burned where it had been amputated, so many years ago.

"You failed me," a roaring voice called out from behind her. She turned to face her accuser. She didn't remember the precise coloration of his fur, nor the full color tone of his snout, but she knew him as the Bothan gunner that had died in the same crash that she'd been in. Blood flowed down his orange flightsuit from gaping shrapnel wounds in his midsection.

"I died because of you!" A well armored mercenary, the symbol of a Gundark emblazoned on the shoulder of his pauldron, holes burned into the plasteel littered his charred breastplate.

Each being morphed into another and then another, all of them beings that she felt that she had failed sometime in her life: a Trandoshan wearing an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, Malcolm with his head hanging limply across his shoulders, an eight year old girl screaming that she promised to come home to her. They all screamed at her, the dead and the living, until each of their voices merged into a single explosive syllable.

"Commander!" Gavin's voice was frantic and jubilant at the same time. She was awakened in an instant, but the distant screams from her nightmare still echoed in the dawn sky.

The Jedi practically dragged her up and lead her to the edges of the inner trench line. The loud thumps mingled with the cheers of her soldiers. Red lances of energy poured into the forest kilometers away from the camp.

"I never thought I'd be happy to see that shape in the sky," Alexis said. She looked at the wedge of durasteel in the distance, it's kilometer-long length still vaguely visible to the naked eye. She grabbed a pair of unused electrobinoculars and zoomed in on the craft. Its top hull was flat where the more familiar Imperial-class had been stern heavy with a towering command bridge, streaks ofNewRepublic red paint striped down its middle and on its sides. "By the Force, those Nebulas are beautiful..."

Gavin scoffed. "A half broken down Action VI would look beautiful if it was doing that..."

Strategic fire rained down for minutes, the constant sound of the turbolasers making surgical strikes upon what Alexis hoped were Yuuzhan Vong positions sounding like the biggest drum beat that she had heard in her life.

"Commander Wentlas..." Jen Nings' voice was filled with panic. He was laying where Cheryl had guarded the night before, binocs in his hand. "I think they figured now was just as good a time as any..."

"Shavit..." Alexis cursed before calling for everyone to reach their positions.

"I count seven, no Chazrach support. Probably that scouting party we saw last night."

Seven against ten. On paper, the odds seemed soundly in the favor of theNewRepublic. The warriors rushing towards them weren't normal, however, there had been no training at an academy for the Yuuzhan Vong. With their organic crab armor that could even stop blaster fire and lightsaber blades, serpentine weapons that functioned as both a sharp blade and a whip, and a fanaticism for combat that bordered on religion, each Vong warrior was worth two of them.

Alexis breathed in heavily, remembering the lightning quick flashes of combat that she'd experienced with actual Yuuzhan Vong warriors and the briefings from intel that she'd gotten. "Aim for the head, because they don't have helmets. When it comes to melee, go for the joints: elbows, armpits, etcetera."

The small arms blaster fire started, each shot hitting center mass of the charging Vong warriors and dissipating into the thick, living armor. A lucky shot took one of the warriors down, the six other Vong ignoring him as he fell. They reached into a sac hanging from their belts before raising their arms in unison.

"Take cover!" Alexis yelled. She ducked beneath the trench line as a volley of fist-sized beetles flew over them. Nings screamed as the razor sharp edges of the beetle's tough shell lodged deeply into his head. The sniper seized for several seconds, shaking uncontrollably before stilling.

Alexis rose from her cover, switching the ancient blaster to its fully automatic setting. Blaster fire poured from her position at the closest Vong warrior, hitting its chest, stomach and arms before finally reaching its unarmored head. Four against five now, she thought as she pulled the vibroblade from its scabbard. She rose her leg up to be visible to them, metal shining in the daylight.

"That's right," she whispered as the attention of practically every Vong warrior turned to either her or the Jedi Gavin. "Part machine here..."

She slid back rapidly as the first Vong entered the trenches, a snarl on his lipless maw. The serpentine amphistaff lashed out like a whip, hitting the dirt in front of her and sending clouds of dust up into the air. He cursed something in his native tongue as he advanced, the amphistaff changing into a spear.

The Vong raised the blade and thrust it towards her midsection only for Alexis to parry it away at the last second. She backed away again, keeping her distance from the warrior's superior reach. Alexis scanned the area and saw the second Vong break through the lines and headed towards her. A Rodian soldier charged towards the second one, vibroblade raised, only to impale himself on the invader's raised spear.

A guttural laugh escaped the maw of the first Yuuzhan Vong warrior, the deep scars around the edge of the mouth that connected to dark tattoos over his eyes twisting. Alexis feinted forward, bringing her blade up in an imaginary attack at the open neck. The Vong raised his own blade to block, leaving the softer armor under his arm open. She changed her direction, thrusting towards the opening, only to have her vibroblade intercepted by a quick spin of his living blade.

The Vong shoved forward, sending Alexis off of her feet and into the dirt. Pain flared up from her back as the breath was driven from her lungs. He raised the amphistaff up and stabbed down, hitting only dirt as Alexis rolled out of the way. She rolled again as the Vong thrust again, bringing her blade up and striking at the inside of his right knee.

Alexis stood as the Vong collapsed, checking her position and backing away from him. The warrior screamed at her, and she knew the insults and curses without knowing his language. They were the same types that every wounded being said or thought while crippled by their enemy. She planned her attack, move to the side and then finish off the Vong with a stab to the back of the neck.

With her fist step, the Vong rose up on one hand and lashed out with the other one. Alexis felt the tight grip of the amphistaff's tail wrap around her ankle and then the rush and pain as he yanked backwards. She kicked hard with her cybernetic leg as the Vong crawled closer to her, the first shot instantly sending dark blood oozing from open cuts in his face.

She kicked again, harder this time as mechanical tendons and joints shot out with inhuman power. The Vong reeled, still alive despite that the very same kick had claimed the life of a stormtrooper so many years before. She struck out again, and again, each kick slowing the Vong down until he finally collapsed in a heap.

The battle was all but over by the time that she stood up. Only Gavin and Cheryl were alive, the Jedi surviving by use of the Force and the scout due to her swiftness and craftiness. The others lay slain on the ground, some still alive nominally, but with the fatal venom from the Vong's weapons flowing through their veins, others futilely trying to hold in the lifeblood as it drained from their bodies. The Vong where they died.

"Let's try and make them comfortable," she said, pointing to the two poisoned members of her own team.

The New Republic dropships arrived a half hour after the last one died, pieces of the large tarp that had provided the fortress's overhang now served as makeshift funeral shrouds for all the fallen. Part of her felt angry, that theNewRepublicshould have hurried to their location the second that Verrens had managed to break through. As Verrens' body was loaded into a drop ship, she realized that there was nothing that they could have done. The bombardment had lasted for nearly an hour after their own battle had ended.

"Commander Wentlas," a soldier said. "Are you coming with us or staying here?"

"Is everyone loaded up?" she asked.

He looked back in the dropship at Cheryl and Gavin in confusion. "You gone mad? They're right here!"

"Everyone," Alexis repeated.

The confusion cleared from his face, replaced by understanding. He spoke into his headset and waited for the answer. "All the bodies that weren't already buried by yourselves," he said. "Team'll come in the next few days to collect the rest. There's a lot of dead on this planet, commander."

She stepped aboard the dropship, so similar to the ones that had been used during the Clone Wars and hung on to the railing as it lifted off of the ground. Blood and dead Vong and Chazrach stained the ground as thick, black smoke rose from the ground where the New Republic Star Destroyer had fired its many turbolasers. In ten years, five even, no one would remember the name of the planet that so many had fought and died on save for the survivors. The door closed and hissed as it pressurized.


She kissed the locket around her neck again. She was going home, one of the few promises in this war that she was allowed to keep.

 

Wow. This has been an phenomenal ride, these two scenes. I keep thinking of the battle scenes from 300, how they fought until the very last breath. Alexis's troops were loyal and brave, that's for sure.

Your battle scenes are amazing and visceral. I could picture this in all its terrifying, gory, explosive detail. You really put me in the trenches with Alexis and her troops. She's such a survivor.

Spoiler

I know it's bad of me but when I read the word "Chazrach" my first thought was "Charizard"