| abstract
| - “We're going to do...what, sir?” Lieutenant Dan'kre was the first to recover from the shock that had befallen the gathering, something that I secretly admired him for. The young Bothan had matured rapidly in the wake of that first mission, nearly two years ago, when he'd come within a hair's breadth of being skewered on a Sith marauder's lightsaber. Snatched up by Intelligence after the dramatic victory at Lannik, he'd risen to full lieutenant after having revamped the entire way that the branch conducted its signals intelligence and anti-slicer security operations. Even as I took in his dark red aura which oscillated with yellow sparks, I could sense the rapidity with which he contemplated the myriad ways that the outlined objective could be accomplished. “Outwardly, the Sith appear to be powerful,” Kavar explained, “but look at how they operate from the inside, and it becomes an illusion. When you confront a being who relies upon power taken from others, the surest way of defeating that being is to deprive him of that which fuels his power.” I nodded at that, recalling the words I'd said to the dying Zabrak, Acaadi. Power can be given, and it can be taken, but strength is eternal. “Cut off the head, and the serpent dies,” I elaborated. “The one thing that all the generations of Sith and other great bands of outlaws have in common is dependence upon a strong leader, a uniting factor. Without one, they turn on themselves as they fight for whatever power, however temporary, they can get their hands, paws or claws on. It was the same with the Mandalorians as well.” “Captain Reyolé is correct,” Kavar said, pride evident in his voice. “When Revan killed the last Mandalore, it broke them, sealing the victory at Malachor V. If we can capture Revan, and deprive the Sith of their strongest leader, they will turn on each other, giving us the chance to reinforce and rebuild.” Inwardly, I was smiling, both at Kavar for having the grace to refer to me by my military title when among other officers, and at the sheer audacity of what he was proposing. I'd come up with some vac-brained schemes in my time, both as a Marine and a Jedi, but this plan took the ta'co. “I assume that we have a means to track down our target,” Admiral Dodonna put in after a beat. “In fact, ma'am, we do,” Dan'kre replied, drawing a datapad from a case at his feet and plugging it into the holoprojector. “An Intelligence data raid on the recently-established Sith base on Sernpidal has just yielded results. We anticipate that Darths Revan and Malak will be making several stopovers along the Corellian Run and Bright Jewel Cluster, and though their intentions are unknown, the evidence points to a general consolidating of their territory.” He brought up an image of several star systems arranged along and in close proximity to the galactic hyperlane. “This data is time-sensitive,” he elaborated. “Due to the nature of Sith data-caching and their system of checks, any action taken will need to be within the next ten to fifteen Standard days.” “How are we going to draw them into battle?” I inquired, looking from Admiral Dodonna to Master Kavar. “Lieutenant Dan'kre is too modest,” the older woman observed. “The attack at Sernpidal wasn't just a raid. Two companies of the Nineteenth Marine Battalion overwhelmed and destroyed the Sith presence there, achieving complete surprise and nullifying any chance of the garrison alerting the rest of the Empire. As for drawing them out, we are making arrangements to rendezvous with the Interdictor cruiser Battleaxe en route to Ord Mantell, where we hope to intercept Darth Revan's fleet. “I don't understand,” I interjected, shooting the admiral and the Jedi Master each a raised eyebrow. I was beginning to wonder if they had already planned out the mission and that this briefing was solely for the benefit of myself and the various warship captains. “Why bring me all the way here to the Deep Core if we're just heading back Rimward again? Wouldn't it have made more sense to assemble at Kuat, pick up some heavier ships, and use this intel to set up a showdown fight?” “That was exactly the position of Fleet Command,” Admiral Dodonna answered, her gray eyes flicking from me to Kavar and over to where Bastila Shan sat. “And to be frank, mine as well. Master Kavar, are you certain this is the wisest course of action?” “Yes,” the Jedi Master responded, his voice and sense even but firm. “We believe that, when Revan and Malak ventured into the Unknown Regions after their defeat of the Mandalorians, they encountered something, the likes of which the Republic has not seen in over a thousand years. It is absolutely imperative that we do everything we can to capture the Dark Lord, and find out what he knows.” He then looked me fully in the face. “As for why we brought you, specifically, here, the reasons are twofold: by assembling this far Coreward, we can more easily maintain secrecy; as well, we need you and your skills to help ensure that the boarding operation succeeds.” Kavar pressed a control on the holoprojector, and the star map was replaced with a 1:100 scale holographic mock-up of an Interdictor-class cruiser. “The overall plan is relatively simple. When we draw the Sith fleet out of hyperspace over Ord Mantell, Padawan Shan will utilize her battle meditation to keep their forces off-balance while we pin them between our fleet and the planet. At such a point, she will join Captain Reyolé, our Knights, and a platoon of our best soldiers aboard Vibrosword's Jarhead-class lander—” I chuckled to myself as I felt the ripple of mild irritation in his aura as he said the name, “—for the boarding itself, to be escorted in by the three squadrons of Aurek fighters from Battleaxe. “Padawan Shan and our Knights will make their way to Darth Revan's command bridge, cornering and capturing him if at all possible.” As he continued to outline the plan, the Jedi Master gestured toward various parts of the holographic warship's interior. “Meanwhile, Captain Reyolé and her troops will do what they can to keep the flagship's crew busy, maintaining a line of retreat back toward the hangar bay. This is the most dangerous part, because while she is engaging the Dark Lord, Padawan Shan will not be able to use her battle meditation to help us. I will do my best to coordinate with Admiral Dodonna from Vibrosword, but it will be a tough fight, particularly since we will most likely be outnumbered and outgunned. If worse comes to worst, and the strike team is killed or captured, we will fall back to Ord Cestus and rendezvous with the fleet guarding Corellia.” “With all due respect, Master Kavar, that's crazy,” I said after he had finished. “No offense, but I don't know anyone here, save for you, Bastila, and Lieutenant Dan'kre. If I had been given leeway in choosing my platoon, then perhaps it would be possible, but as it is, I can't give you any guarantees that I, or anyone you put under my command, will be able to get the job done.” “Having fought alongside Captain Reyolé, I'm forced to agree,” the Bothan put in. “If I could perhaps accompany her and use my knowledge of Sith information systems to, say, vent the atmosphere of a few choice compartments, that would lessen the number of troopers that she would have to deal with...” “Well, that's something, at least,” I said, shooting Dan'kre a smirk of approval. “Is Vibrosword outfitted for Marines, Admiral?” “Yes,” she replied with a dubious look. “We have a platoon's worth of heavy armor and boarding weapons, but our soldiers don't have the specialized training of the Marines. Master Kavar, I'm afraid I must concur once again with Captain Reyolé, The Republic and the Jedi Order have set us a task for which we may not be equipped.” Finally, the Jedi Master responded, walking to the holoprojector to extinguish it before looking over the assembly of officers and Jedi. “These are all valid concerns, of course,” he said gravely. “I sympathize with you all, but we must also face facts. The sixteen ships here in orbit above Tython constitute the last reserves of the Republic Navy. Even as we speak, Admiral Hetton and his task force are on their way to provide reinforcements for Eriadu in anticipation of a thrust by the Sith in that direction. The shipyards at Sluis Van fell last month, leaving only Kuat and Corellia to repair and replenish what we do have, in addition to replacing those vessels we lose. Their output of new ships has trickled down to almost nothing. This is our only recourse; if we fail, then there will be nothing to stop Darth Revan from taking over the galaxy.” I still had my doubts, but datafiles don't lie. The sincerity of Kavar's exhortations were obvious, and though his plan was tenuous at best, I could sense that, indeed, there was no other choice. “Well then, if you will excuse me Admiral, Master,” I said with a sigh of resignation, rising from my chair. “It looks like I've got less than ten days to train up a new platoon of Marines.” — — — An hour later, with the fleet in hyperspace on their way to meet with Battleaxe in an uninhabited system Coreward of Ord Mantell, I met my boarding party. Along with Jedi Padawan Bastila Shan, four other Knights were to be involved, all of them humans ranging in age from their mid twenties to thirty, and all of them males who carried themselves as though they'd been raised on Coruscant. I didn't need the Force to tell me that, though they were skilled swordsmen, some of them were a little short on combat experience, particularly aboard warships. But that was Bastila's problem, not mine, as they were technically under her command, and so I decided to save any formal acquaintances for later. Nevertheless, I made a mental note to engage each of them in at least one mock duel before the trip was done, so that I could gauge their abilities for myself. Admiral Dodonna's platoon of Army troopers, on the other hand, were clearly battle-hardened for the most part, but it was also readily apparent that they were used to fighting on the surfaces of planets and moons. Their commanding officer, an olive-skinned Twi'lek male named Ibratu'na, bore a fine scar along his right upper cheek that he'd earned in combat with Sith troopers at Mon Gazza. He brought the forty men and women of his platoon, who stood a meter apart from one another, to attention as I entered their muster room. I deliberately forced them to keep their poise as I passed an appraising eye over each of the gathered soldiers. Lieutenant Ibratu'na was the only non-human among them; the rest of the lot were a mix of natives from all over Republic space. “My name is Captain Laera Reyolé, Republic Marines,” I began in an intentionally brusque but very precise manner, finally allowing them to relax as I paced back and forth before them, hands clasped at my spine. “I am well aware of the unusual nature of the upcoming mission, and that you yourselves know what is going on and what is at stake. That said, each and every one of you do not qualify. I aim to correct that oversight. “You are not Marines, and it takes Marines to fill Marine-issue assault armor and prevail in the kind of action we're going to be seeing. I've got less than nine days to make you Army nerfs into Marine gundarks. It's going to be tough, it's going to get rough, and I suspect that any respect you may have for me now might get shoved out the airlock well before we're done. That is a price I am willing to pay, if it means that you survive and perform well. You may hate me, but the more you hate me, the more you will learn. The more you sweat in training, the less you will bleed in battle! Do I make myself clear?” The assembly responded in Army fashion, with an enthusiastic “Hoo-ahh!” Picking out a soldier at random, I strode briskly toward her, sticking my face right up into hers. “Am I going deaf?” I barked into her ear. “I don't think I heard you, Corporal!” “Hoo-ahh, ma'am!” the blond woman shouted, her green eyes screwed up in concentration. “Kriffing hell, I still didn't hear anything!” I yelled right back, nearly spitting into the hapless noncom's ear. “I've met Chadra-Fans that could yell louder than you, girl!” This wasn't how I usually conducted training—and I'd spent three years as a drill instructor—but we were on a time budget, and thought these people were battle-tested, I needed them at their absolute best. “What's your name?!” “Seela Dar, ma'am!” she bellowed, louder still. “Where in space are you from, Corporal Dar?” “Tatooine, ma'am!” “Tatooine, you say?” I asked loudly. “So I guess you figure you're some kind of sharpshooter, huh? Plunking vermin with some kind of long rifle at ludicrous distances, huh?” “Yes, ma'am!” she shouted in defiance. “I'm a damn fine shot, ma'am!” “Sithspawn, I don't believe you, Corporal Dar!” I barked again. “You're going to have to show me that you're a crack shot before I let you wear my armor! Is that clear?” “Crystal clear, ma'am!” I finally withdrew from the corporal and turned toward one of the male privates, a tall, dark-skinned bald youth who'd fought at Lannik, and gave him the same treatment. “What's your name, Private?” “Tango Goss, ma'am!” “And what makes you think you've got what it takes to wear my armor, Private Goss?” I asked, lowering my voice to barely above a whisper. “I'm a good soldier, ma'am!” he shouted. “Good soldier my hindquarters, Private!” I all but screamed in his ear. “Being a 'good soldier' isn't good enough, boy! Get down on the deck and give me thirty! Right kriffing now!” The young private immediately did as he was ordered, and began pumping out push-ups at a brisk pace. Most unwisely, one of the other privates, who looked like he'd not seen any action at all, gave into his urge to laugh. Calling upon the Force, I executed a backflip that brought me right alongside the upstart soldier. “Is something funny, son?” I said evenly as I whipped around to face him. “Because I'm pretty sure the rest of your platoon could use a good laugh right about now.” “N-no ma'am!” he stammered, awestruck at my acrobatics. For the very first time in my military career, I struck a fellow soldier. I didn't want to do it. I didn't like having to do it. But he needed to learn, and learn quickly, that I was in command, and that he would be learning to do things my way, the Marine way. It wasn't that bad of a hit, really, but the shot to his solar plexus brought him to the floor in near-agony. A ringing silence fell about the room as the private attempted valiantly to keep quiet as he recovered. “Was that fun, you little maggot?” I asked him in a deadly whisper, crouching beside him so that only he could hear. “N-no...ma'am...” he groaned. “Good, because it wasn't fun for me, either,” I replied, just loud enough to reach everyone as I strode toward the front of the gathering. To his credit, Lieutenant Ibratu'na hadn't so much as twitched a lek throughout the proceedings; as a result, my respect for him rose a notch, for this let me know that he would do his duty without protest. “I am not unreasonable,” I said, resuming the lecture. “If any of you think for one damn second that you are not Marine material, at any point in the next nine days, you had better let me know. I don't want any of you candy-assed jackals realizing that inconvenient fact while under fire, or else you might find my blade perilously close to your scalp. Do you get me?!” “Hoo-ahh!” — — — I felt thoroughly miserable in the wake of the browbeating I'd given the platoon upon our first meeting, but I locked the feeling away as I led them in a series of warm-up calisthenics. Under normal circumstances, it takes nearly six months to turn a civilian into a Marine, and that's just the boot camp phase. Since I was dealing with a trained and tested Army unit, however, I had to first break them of a few bad habits. After taking them through Marine-style physical training, I set them up with spotting lasers and ordered them to “take” Vibrosword's engineering section. “Sergeant, just what the hell are you doing?” I asked one of the squad leaders, who was setting his troopers up to breach the portside accessway. “Setting up to breach, ma'am,” he answered with a shrug, withdrawing his hand from the door actuator. “Where the hell are your flashbangs?” I admonished him with a snarl. “And why stack up so closely, and along only one side of the corridor? A single lucky grenade from the grunts inside, and your whole squad's wiped out!” “I thought that—” “No, you didn't, Sergeant,” I interrupted him. “This is a warship, not some dirtdown farmers' fort! How the hell were you going to subdue the enemy once you got in?” Without waiting for a reply, I began guiding the squad into something resembling a proper breaching arrangement, demonstrating the correct postures and positions by grabbing them and none-too-gently forcing their arms and legs into compliance. I had had to ratchet down my connection to the Force as I did this, because it had started to boil with unpleasant thoughts—thoughts I'd never had hoped to come by in my life. Finally, they seemed to get it, so I moved on to the other two squads to check their readiness. Unfortunately, they fared no better under my scrutiny, and it was nearly ship's night before they were all prepared to attempt the maneuver. I'd made sure to clear this training activity with Admiral Dodonna and her flag captain, a Coruscanti named Piers Kathla, and the engineering staff had been replaced by protocol and utility droids. I watched via holocam projection as all three squads executed the breach; much to my surprise, the soldiers did a fairly credible job of it. Despite that, it was readily apparent that they lacked experience in the sort of fast-paced, ever-alert fighting that is necessary when engaging hostiles in the tight confines and long hallways of a starship. It would have helped if Vibrosword had had the sensor harnesses used by Marines in our own training sims, because that would have forced them to learn quickly, but also correctly, as I pitted each squad against one another. Once the exercise had finished, I called the platoon back into their muster room. “So goes Day One of your retraining,” I said after pacing before the assembled platoon for several minutes of terse silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, color me unimpressed. Your breaching was slow and uninspired, your responses were sluggish, and I am still trying to figure out what in the name of the Force Sergeant DiSote was attempting to do.” The black-haired, brown-eyed leader of Second Squad visibly blushed at my words, and I fixed her with a glare that, were my eyes lasers, would have seen her vaporized on the spot. The woman had, despite my instructions, set herself up to be first in the room after breaching. While leading from the front is well and good in normal circumstances, charging headlong into a lightfight, let alone one in tight quarters, is the last thing a squad leader should be doing. “We're going to run through it again, boys and girls,” I continued remorselessly, and there was an audible groan from the assembled soldiers and noncoms. “But first we're going to take a little run; a few laps around the ship ought to get us nice and loose. And when you breach, I'll be in the control room for the main drive core, picking off your laser blasts and witnessing for myself just how much you can tighten things up. “Welcome to Hell, kiddies.” — — — I ended up pushing the platoon into ten full laps around the main deck of Vibrosword, which amounted to roughly six kilometers of running through busy corridors past a plethora of crewers and droids, keeping up a running commentary of what it meant to fight for one's life aboard a warship. When we pounded our way through intersections, I'd give advice on the best way to set up a four-way defense. When we worked our way through crowded corridors, I instructed them on how to use enemy personnel as living (or nonliving) shields if necessary, “volunteering” a hapless private in order to effectively demonstrate the technique. I even spent half a lap lecturing them on elementary anti-Force user tactics, hoping that they'd remember enough of them so that picking off their massed spotting laser bolts would be a challenge for myself as well. The final lap ended at the cross-corridor that divided the engineering section from the rest of the cruiser's main deck. “Alright, grunts,” I said, signaling for them to halt. “Now that we've gotten the kinks worked out, let's try this again. Break by squads and stack up for breach, go only on my command.” Wordlessly, the platoon divided itself up, with Lieutenant Ibratu'na taking over Second Squad from the despondent-looking Hellin DiSote. As they did so, I made my way into the drive core control room as promised, sealing the hatches behind me. When I got there, I activated the stash of six training remotes that one of the engineers had placed underneath one of the consoles, which he had done on my orders as I'd taken the platoon out for its run. In addition, he had equipped two of the utility droids, both of which were of the new T3 line, with stun pistols as an added surprise. Knowing that this exercise could only be brought off correctly through my use of the Force, I calmed myself and allowed it to flow into me, letting it sweep my dark thoughts and emotions away. Finally prepared, I gave the order. The swishing of training remotes as they glided through the air, the sounds of status indicators, and the occasional burst of droidspeak were the only things that could be heard for the first couple of minutes, but that was to be expected. I could sense the platoon's approach to the outer doors of the core room, and I set myself in stance and in the Force as they stacked up to make the final breach. When they executed the three-pronged attack, the room exploded with noise and light as forty men and women charged into the compartment in a flurry of motion, light-guns blazing and practice flashbangs discharging. Almost immediately, the remotes and utility droids counterattacked, spraying a mix of stinger darts and stun bolts into the attackers as I brought my lightsaber to life to pick off incoming bursts. After the first few moments, three troopers were down, with both utility droids feigning destruction as they'd been programmed to do if tagged by the unit's spotting lasers. Others were bellowing their displeasure at having been zapped by the remotes, but they were giving as well as they got, and soon the floating orbs were “dead” as well. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Ibratu'na had brought the entire Second Squad to bear on my position, and I was forced deep into Soresu in order to pick off the shots of a dozen troopers and a suddenly transported Twi'lek officer. So, you can fight after all! I thought with great satisfaction as I threw myself into the effort. The thirty-one remaining effectives among the platoon were soon pouring fire into the umbrella of light cast by my rapidly-spinning cerulean blade, and I began to send their laser darts back at them. They weren't painful, but they packed enough of a punch that you would know it if you got hit, and soon the number of assailants was reduced to twenty. Corporal Dar, however, taking cover behind a console, managed to penetrate my defensive kata, pegging me just above my left breast. Feeling that it would most likely have been a killing shot even if I'd been clad in full assault armor, I deactivated my weapon and called a halt to the furious lightfight. Gradually, the compartment fell silent, and the “dead” rose from the deck to join their fellows as they assembled before me. I clipped my lightsaber back onto my belt, then regarded each soldier in turn as I again paced before them. “Corporal Dar, have you seen a Jedi in action before?” I asked curtly. “Yes, ma'am,” she replied, a small measure of pride evident on her face. “On Lannik, the platoon was accompanied by Jedi Knight Georg Oakes.” “He's one of the Jedi on Bastila Shan's strike team, correct?” “Yes ma'am.” I nodded to the young corporal, a satisfied smirk on my face. “Corporal Dar here was the one who finally got me,” I said to the assembled platoon. “Pay attention to how she fights a Force-user, and next time I won't end up 'killing' so many of you. First rule: never use blasters if you can help it. If you absolutely must do so, use them from cover, and change up the angle of your shots and where you're firing from. Second rule: know before you go. If you even suspect that someone within the room you are assaulting is trained to use a lightsaber, make sure you soften them up with flashbangs, gas grenades, or even frags, whatever you've got handy. If you've got a thermal detonator, use that. Third rule: never, ever close to melee range with a Force-user if you want to survive the fight.” I patted my weapon. “This blade will go through just about anything. “Overall, despite the little surprises I'd set up for you, this was a bit of an improvement. You're still not Marines, not by a long shot, but your performance this time around demonstrates that you at least have the potential to measure up...eventually.” I stopped pacing as I reached the middle column of their makeshift formation. “Everyone fall out for chow and sack time. You're going to need all the rest you can get, so make sure not to waste any more time babbling amongst yourselves than is absolutely necessary. Dismissed!”
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)