Apr. 5th, 2015

last_kallig: (SWTOR)
3,680 years before the events of Star Wars: A New Hope and 37 years before Ibani's present.

Sergeant Cheketta swore at the sight of two members of his special forces team attempting to wrangle the only barely conscious Lieutenant out of the Coruscanti air taxi. The rest of the fleet heading out on a secret mission to the rim had left atmo 15 minutes ago, but the chain of command had flarked up epically and had only informed his special forces team 5 minutes ago that a) the mission existed and b) they were supposed to be a part of it. A deeply cynical part of his mind suggested that this might be the reason the Republic was losing the Outer Rim to the Empire rapidly and in large chunks. He tried very hard to ignore that thought.

"We've got a priority alpha one mission, boys and girls. Get the Lieutenant on the ship, he'll have more than enough time to sober up when we're in hyperspace," he barked at his unit. "I'm going to go make sure we get loaded with supplies ASAP, the rest of you make sure you and the ship are mission worthy."


**********************************************************************************

The trouble with having a top secret mission, Padawan Sedoya Senn thinks to himself, is that you can't explain to anyone that you have a top secret mission. And all of the various Masters that he's somehow crossed paths with don't seem to be bothered by his insistence that HIS Master is waiting for him, really, and it's very important! He'd left hours early, hours, but each encounter had eaten up precious time. And then there had been a mysterious shortage of taxis, and taxi malfunctions, and what felt like a hundred other little things going wrong and keeping him from his destination.

The Padawan stands before his and Master Rao's contact with the Republic Army, stomach sinking as he's told that the ship with his Master on it has already left. Master Rao says that the Force works in mysterious ways and that difficulties are there to teach us something. He's not sure what he's supposed to learn from this, except to add an additional three hours to the expected travel time of any journey.

"Ah, you're in luck, Jedi!" their contact says with a smile and a shake of her head that sends red curls bouncing. "Looks like there's one ship that hasn't left yet."

Seven days later.

"And that was how I ended up cleaning the atrium by hand with a scrub brush to 'improve my perspective on life', Sedoya Senn concludes to a welcome chorus of laughter by the soldiers.

Cheketta hadn't been sure how to feel about having a Jedi on the ship, not at first. Oh, sure, they were the defenders of the Republic, but they always seemed mysterious, unknowable, distant from people like him and the rest of his squad. But once they'd gotten used to him and Sedoya Senn had relaxed enough to open up to the soldiers, he'd fit in as if he belonged with them.

Turnell snorts, piercings making a clicking sound when they knocked against her horns as she shakes her head. "I think he wanted to get even with your smart ass for interpreting that direction literally."

"There is no emotion, there is peace," Senn intones, but his eyes were twinkling with amusement.

Cheketta grins at him, leaning against the bulkhead. "Pull the other one, Padawan, it's got bells on."

"While I can not presume to know my Master's mind, I suspect irritation may have unofficially played a part in things, yes."

"We're coming out of hyperspace shortly sir," the pilot announces over the comm. They all head to various parts of the ship, getting ready for the battle to come. Their ship won't be doing much in a space battle, she's not built for that, but they'll need to slip past the battle and down to the planet's surface.


Things go to bantha poodu the instant the ship exits hyperspace. Padawan Senn stiffens, face going pale. "Master Rao is dead," he says hoarsely. "Something's very...."

Cheketta is about to ask him for clarification when the ship shakes like it's been struck hard. He can taste the tin of terror and the copper of blood in his mouth as he's thrown against the bulkhead. He rolls to his feet, heart trying to pound its way out of his chest, and sees an Imperial trooper raising their rifle to shoot him. He brings his plasma canon up, empties a neat set of shots into the Imp's chest and they go down. He hears the snap hiss of a lightsaber and turns to see a Sith swinging their red blade toward his head. He brings the gun up, hits the Sith in the face with it, forcing him back. The Sith reaches out toward him with one hand...

The world shudders, heaves, afterimages dance before his eyes. Then, Senn is standing in front of him with a black eye and Turnell is lying on the ground, moaning in pain. There are no Imps, no sign of any damage to the ship. "What, what happened?" he asks, mouth going dry. "Where did they go?"

"There were no Imps, Sergeant," Senn tells him, face strained. "We were attacked by some Sith sorcery, some power that inflicts terror, makes friends wear the face of the enemy."

"I shot Turnell," he replies with dawning horror.

"But you didn't know it was Turnell," Senn says calmly. "It took me a few moments to break free and shield myself and I'm trained to deal with mental attacks."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better, is it?" Cheketta snaps irritably. The lieutenant's body is all twisted up on the floor, too still, eyes staring at nothing. The medic moves from the lieutenant's side, darting across the floor to try and save Turnell.

Z'moy thumps the long distance holocom. "Shavit, can't connect to anything outside the local area."

"Sarge! Sarge!!" The pilot shouts over the comm. "The fleet, the whole karking fleet is tearing itself apart!"

**********************************************************************************
They all stare at the sight on the view-screens, numb with horror and shock. Republic destroyers, cruisers, fighters, all are turning on one another. Plasma shoots across the void, tearing ships to pieces or vaporizing them outright. The comms are full of chatter about Imperial ships, about an enemy that isn't there.

"Got to be that thing that hit us," Cheketta growls. He turns to the Jedi. "Can you reach anyone else, shield them too?"

"I don't know," he replies. "But I'm going to attempt it anyway." Sedoya Senn goes still for a long moment, eyes closed and his expression one of intense concentration. Cheketta thinks he can see a golden glow around him, a faint limning of light around the Jedi's form.

Minutes drag by with glacial slowness, then Cheketta tastes tin and copper on his tongue, feels something pressing in on him as Sedoya Senn goes pale, stumbles, starts to fall. "Senn!" he shouts, grabbing the man's arm to hold him upright.

The Jedi's eyes snap open and the look of utter anguish on his face tells Cheketta everything he needs to know. But the Jedi inhales, marshals his expression to something neutral, and Cheketta feels that strange pressure ease.

"Everything in me wants to fight them, to try and find the Sith that are doing this," Senn says, voice barely above a whisper. "But we're the only ones who can tell people what happened, can help stop this from happening again. We must survive, whatever the price."

Cheketta nods grimly. "Get us inside what's left of one of the destroyed ships," he orders the pilot. "We'll hide inside of it until..." He swallows. Until the fleet is destroyed, until everyone else is dead, until this nightmare is over. "Until it's clear enough for us to get the flark out of here."

***********************************************************************************
There is too much time, too much time to hear the world ending, to hear the shouts and screams of your fellow soldiers killing one another in a mistaken frenzy of terror and rage. No one complains when Cheketta orders them to shut off the incoming channels, not even when the silence grows thick and heavy as a shroud.

Senn's the one to break the silence, to start talking about his childhood, his training in the Jedi Temple. They all take turns after that, anything to fill up the silence, to keep from thinking about what's going on outside in the here and now.

It's all over inside of an hour, the entire Republic fleet destroyed except for their one tiny ship. They watch one lone Imperial destroyer drift through the wreckage and the dead before it vanishes into hyperspace.

It's time to go home.

(OOC: Sedoya Senn's comment about being punished to 'improve his perspective on life' was inspired by this post.)

Profile

last_kallig: (Default)
last_kallig

July 2024

S M T W T F S
 123456
78910111213
141516171819 20
21222324252627
28293031   

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 4th, 2025 06:47 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios