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| - Laera remained in the briefing room for a few minutes longer, browsing the crew manifests of the four warships in the task force. These vessels, along with the soldiers and starfighters they carried, were among the only mobile reserves that the Republic had left. She knew that she was not the only one with Jedi training in the flotilla, since each of the other ships carried at least one Jedi Knight or Padawan; however, as the recently-promoted commander of the Third Battalion, she was also the senior Marine officer present. The thought of a Jedi Marine still made her smile somewhat, though the thought was always tempered by the grim realities of a war where Force-user fought Force-user. Laera forced herself to resist the temptation to rue her own past when it came to such things, however. What mattered was the here and now: how she, as both a Marine and a Jedi, could fight against the tide of darkness that stabbed its way toward the very heart of the Republic she so dearly loved. She brought her attention back to the manifest she held, which was a roster of all the pilots within the task force, organized by proficiency and type rating. As she browsed the list of the most senior multi-rate pilots, the dossier of Carth Onasi, now a full Commander stationed aboard the Endar Spire as its executive officer, came up. She smiled briefly, calling up the man's details despite the fact that she had already known him from the year before. Laera soon wished she hadn't, because it reminded her that it was his homeworld that had been subjected to so terrible a bombardment. The document indicated that his wife had died of wounds resulting from the attack, while his son was listed as “missing,” which she knew really meant “dead, but without enough parts left to bury.” Laera scowled, not at the Sith, but at herself, because she knew that in order to successfully pull this mission off, she would need to draft the man into such peril so soon after having gone through a fate worse than death. Which is really saying something, she thought to herself, seeing as I have died. — — — Carth Onasi trudged through the corridors of the Endar Spire toward its hangar deck to greet the new arrival, his heart still heavy with loss. He barely acknowledged the salutes and greetings of the warship's crew as he walked; his mind was far, far away, amongst the ruins of Telos, wondering why such a thing had been carried out, and by none other than his own onetime mentor. Worse still, he battered himself with recriminations about why he hadn't been able to get there in time to save Morgana and Dustil. The commander arrived at the hangar as a small shuttlepod's egress ramp began to lower, the haze of out-gassing partially occluding the form of the officer that descended it. He continued to march, as though on autopilot, toward the ramp, snapping to attention as the figure reached the deck. “Commander Onasi, it's good to see you again,” the woman said as she returned his salute. “Captain...Reyolé?” he replied hesitantly, not quite believing his eyes. “I thought you'd still be on Dantooine, never mind back in uniform and out here in the middle of nowhere.” Laera strode forward, embracing the man, letting the Force flow into him in an effort to buoy his spirits. Carth, unsure at first, returned the hug, his pained expression gradually subsiding as the two broke apart. “Thought you'd like to see a familiar face after what happened,” Laera said apologetically. “Carth, I'm so sorry for your loss.” “Thank you, ma'am,” he replied, lowering his gaze. “It's still painful...incredibly painful...but I'm holding it together.” Carth followed Laera's lead as she made her way from the cold, noisy environs of the hangar deck toward a nearby briefing room. “You know, I guess I really shouldn't be that surprised to see you here,” he said after the two had arrived, pointing at the lightsaber that hung at the Marine's belt. Laera hid a smile as she turned toward the holodisplay controls at the room's head, triggering the sequestering function as she brought up a star map. Finally, she turned back to face the pilot, her hand on her lightsaber. “A little ostentatious, I know, but it's tradition to keep this thing visible. As to why I'm here...well, that's rather complicated.” “Things always seem to be that way with you, ma'am,” Carth replied. The two managed to share a weak smile as they sat opposite each other so that they could both see the star map. “Were the Jedi alright with this?” “They were all for it, after Darth Revan made his little proclamation,” Laera acknowledged with a rueful shake of her head. “It's funny how it worked out, though. There I was, being formally inducted into the Jedi Order with my basic training complete, when in walks this tow-headed teenage apprentice with a holocomm pad to play our old friend's broadcast about the Foerost disaster.” Laera sighed. “The Masters were silent for a really long time, and I got this funny feeling in my gut about how it'd been at our mutual friends' behest that I got the benefit of this little second-life treatment. But then they finally snapped out of it, and before I knew it, I was all but begging them to point me in the right direction to do the most good. They told me that, since my training was complete, I could do what I wanted, and so I burned sky for Coruscant. Next thing you know, High Command has me rushing to take over the Third Battalion and get it back up to combat readiness, and now we're aboard the Stalwart Defender. That's where you come in.” Carth's expression was a mask, but Laera could sense that he was struggling to come up with an appropriate response. She could feel his burning desire to put some serious hurt on the Sith; somehow, with the kind of certainty that only the Force could give, she knew that he would get his chance...eventually. “What do you need, ma'am?” he finally asked. Laera manipulated the star map's controls with the Force, bringing up the home system of the Zabraks. “Iridonia. You remember it from the last war, right?” “Yes,” Carth replied, looking at the holographic display. “One of the first systems to fall to the Mandalorians; eventually we took it back, but I was elsewhere at the time. Now the Sith seem to own it.” “Intelligence thinks this was a voluntary absorption in the wake of the recent battle. After a bunch of Mando mercs blew a major comm center, the Sith fleet showed up, and the Republic was forced to evacuate what forces they could.” Laera sighed heavily. "And really, why wouldn't they? They probably still see Revan as a hero.” Carth looked uncomfortably at her, his eyebrow raised. “Do you?” he asked before he could stop himself. The question rocked Laera back in her seat. Its context, and the burning resentment lingering behind it, though it wasn't directed so much at her as it was the new Dark Lord and his bald lackey, made her wince both physically and emotionally. After a moment, she composed herself enough to reply, her voice low but with an edge. “Revan may be why I'm still alive, but that doesn't mean bantha dung right now. He betrayed us all, and for what? No, Carth, he's no hero, not anymore." She paused, her features and voice softening as she continued. "And please don't apologize for speaking your mind.” The other officer had raised his head in protest, but returned his gaze to the display, his stillborn apology bouncing around in his mind. “Aye-aye,” he replied, sullen. “What's the mission?” “Despite the fact they now have you helping to shepherd this bucket, you're still the best pilot in the task force,” Laera answered, pointing at the star system on the display. “I need you to fly a scout ship into the Iridonia system without arousing suspicion, so that I can probe the planet for its Sith presence. I've got a plan set in motion to raid the world, take what we can, and blow the place to Chaos on our way out, but it is highly-dependent upon knowing exactly where the Sith are based. If all goes well, we might be able to drive them, at least temporarily, from the planet.” “How do you expect to scan an entire planet, never mind one that is currently occupied by a hostile force, without being detected?” a bemused Carth asked. “Simple,” Laera replied, and with a flick of her finger, she snatched the DL-3 blaster from Carth's holster, catching it by the barrel and offering its grip to him. “I learned a few tricks back on Dantooine that will come in very handy indeed.” — — — Her rumpled BDUs sticking to her in uncomfortable ways, Laera descended the ramp first as the scout ship's pilot finished locking down its systems. She started stretching, trying to get the kinks out of her that had been put there by the unbelievably tight quarters within the equally tiny vessel that she had just spent four solid days wedged inside. As she bent over to touch the tips of her boots, Carth joined her, his left hand holding the datapad that, in effect, held the keys to Iridonia. “I didn't think my landing was that bad,” he remarked. “It's not your landing that did it,” Laera shot back as she straightened up. “I hate these scouts, the Force alone knows how you Navy people put up with them.” “Can't say I like them much, either,” Carth replied. “Never flew them before myself.” Laera turned about suddenly, her wide eyes looking daggers at her friend. “Men,” she mumbled as she faced the far bulkhead. “Come on,” she continued, her voice back to normal but no less irritated. “Let's get that data to the boys at Intel. We need that strike package put together in a Coruscant minute, or we'll miss our chance.” — — — “So this is what we're most likely to be going up against,” Laera said, recapping the briefing. She was once again in the muster room, and once again, the officers of the Third Battalion were before her. This time, it was not a star map they discussed, but the holographic display of a topographic map. “About five hundred officers, troopers and workers will be in the base itself, with at least four ten-man outposts. In addition to their squad-sized garrison, each outpost has an anti-air turret to discourage casual observation by airspeeder, but they can also down an Aurek in a pinch.” She gestured to one of the outposts which, due to the terrain, was slightly out of place for optimum defense. “Their towers won't hurt a lander, however. First Platoon, Dorn Company, that's your objective. You are point on this operation. After the task force decants from hyperspace, your transport, escorted by the 52nd Naval and 23rd Marine Squadrons, will hit the outpost and, hopefully, take it over. This will open up a landing cordon for the rest of us; after you either blow the tower or secure it, the 23rd will move in and begin suppressing the defenses at the main base while the 52nd initiates combat aerospace patrol. Aurek and Besh Companies, we're the fist. We go in, tear the place to shreds, and, after Cresh Company secures every ounce of gear they can hump, get back out, while the rest of Dorn Company neutralizes the remaining outposts. The base is primarily a supply depot for passing Sith warships, and likely isn't manned by their best troops, but don't count on it. Because of the potential risks involved, we need to be on our toes and doing our best to keep this operation short and sweet. Any questions?” “Where are you going to be, ma'am?” asked Chek Nessai. “Right in the thick of it,” Laera replied. “I'm riding down with Second Platoon, Besh Company, but if need be, I could divert to your location if you require backup.” That got a laugh out of Bimm, who gently nudged Dorn Company's commander on the shoulder. “Alright, that's enough kidding around, Bimm,” Laera admonished mildly. “Anything else?” The executive officer of Cresh Company, whom Laera had known as a junior lieutenant during the lead-up to the Onderonian liberation, raised his hand. “What of the task force?” he asked. “They'll be just beyond the gravity well of Iridonia's larger moon,” Laera explained. “Their primary purpose is to stay hidden and, if any Sith warships happen to stop by, engage and destroy them before they can report our presence or send reinforcements. Admiral Hetton assures me, however, that he's ready to come to our rescue should the whole operation fall apart. If communications fail, I have the means to contact them.” Laera tapped her temple with her finger demonstratively. “Next?” A sandy-furred Bothan ensign in the back row put his hand up. “Yes, Mr. Dan'kre?” “Are you sure it's wise to risk yourself, Captain?” Silas Dan'kre asked, his tone deferential. “You are valuable both as a senior field commander and a Jedi, what would happen if you were to fall in battle?” Laera flashed the Bothan a predatory smile that raised the fur on his neck. “Fresh from the Academy, aren't you?” she asked. “Yes, ma'am,” Dan'kre answered, trying and only partially succeeding in hiding his nervousness. “I was only posted to the battalion as we left Coruscant.” “Don't worry kid, I've been dead before,” Laera continued after a beat, still smiling. “Stick close to me, and I'll make sure you don't have to find out first hand what it's like.” The Bothan looked stricken, and the entire auditorium rang with laughter. Even Commander Nessai, who had always been reserved even before her experiences during the last war, managed to bark out her amusement. Finally, the mirth died down and the captain continued. “That's the nuts and bolts, ladies and gentlemen. We've got two days until the Aureks return and we jump off. I highly encourage you to spend the intervening time drilling your troops on their assignments. I don't care if you have to engrave the topography onto their skulls, just make sure they know the plan. Dismissed!”
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