Star Wars - The Voyage Home
The Wilds
Dandoran
Doran System
He was lost, and fed up. He looked around that the blank surrounding area. This entire thing had gone to hell over the last few days since he had left the chaos at Tipool. At the time joining the Tenixir had seemed like a good idea, partly because he believed in the balance between them and the Severians, and partly because after a long year back in his House Summit he had needed a break and most of his Clan had joined the other side. Now the matter had been complicated by the appearance of this third faction, and it seemed like a good idea to get back to Orian and ensure everything back home was stable. He still had memories of the time they had returned with the remnants of the Sadow fleet after that debacle at Antei to discover the system had been lost.
The problem is he had no idea where he was. He had not seen a single person for hours. His own ship was docked around one of the Tenixir dreadnaughts and the shuttle he had hitched a lift on was long gone. He continued to walk in his heavy armour with the mid day sun beating down on him, wishing he had worn his lighter robes or at least opted for the comfort body glove upgrade.
After a while he stopped. Ahead he could see smoke and some buildings. He sped up his pace and set off towards them, pulling his saber hilt from his belt but not igniting it. As he drew closer he could see bodies and figures in armour walking amongst them while the buildings continued to burn. It appeared to be some sort of farmstead. With no cover he decided to approach openly and see what he found. The troopers were wearing Severian armour and appeared to be searching for loot. He felt a brief surge of annoyance.
Two of them reacted when he came into view, walking confidently towards them, and approached him warily, rifles held ready. Malisane sensed there were three more of them against the buildings.
“Who the hell are you?” one of them asked.
“I could ask you the same question,” the Sith replied, “only I know looters when I see them. And deserters.”
“Yeah?” one of them asked, “so what? This has all gone to hell, pirates and mutants now, so we don't care.”
“Obviously.”
Another trooper approached, this one wearing a corporals insignia. “He asked you who you were?” he said menacingly, “you look like a mercenary to me. What do you want?”
“I came here from the Brotherhood,” Malisane replied, “and I am going back there. I just came to see what you brave boys were up to. I have a particular dislike of looting, deserter scum. I have caught many on my own world. They died slowly and unpleasantly. This is not my world however. So I will leave you to your amusements.”
“Oh you will, will you?” the corporal asked looking the Sith up and down, “well as you say this is not your world and you are alone. That is some expensive armour and gear you have there. Worth more if we don't have to peel your body out of it. So how about you leave it for us and walk away?”
The other troopers raised their weapons, and waited.
“I would rather not,” Malisane replied, “and I would advise you to return to your business.”
The corporal shrugged. “The hard way then,” and he fired.
Malisane moved quickly, igniting his saber and deflecting the shot, and then as the bolt hit a trooper he continued the movement hacking his saber through the body of a second enemy, slicing through flesh and bone. He felt a blaster bold ping harmlessly off his chest plate and made a gesture, hitting the ground with the force causing an eruption and the three remaining enemies to stagger back. The Warlord took advantage of the distraction and surged forward, effortlessly hacking down two other enemies as they tried to react. Finally he faced the corporal he held his rifle nervously.
“Please,” the man said, “we did not know what you were.”
Malisane made a gesture and the corporals weapon was dragged from his grip to land in the warlord's free hand, and was casually tossed away. “I gave you a chance,” he replied, “it was an extremely generous one considering what you are.” He lowered his saber and stretched out his free hand. The corporal gasped as his feet left the ground, as an invisible hand gripped him. Malisane stepped forward as the struggling man was lifted higher into the air, and then backwards towards the flames behind him.
“No!” the man gasped, as he flailed his arms and legs, feeling the heat.
“Die,” Malisane replied and hurled the man into the centre of the fire, hearing the screams of pain a second later as the corporal was engulfed and cooked in his armour. Finally as only the sound of burning remained, Malisane turned and began to explore. He was not interested in the surroundings, he had enough supplies with him, but was satisfied a few minutes later when he found some barc speeders, presumably belonging to the Severian deserters. Checking they were still in good working order, he picked one and set off across the empty terrain.
He studied the display on the panel in front of him. If the data was right he was a hundred miles from a small supply depot, which hopefully ought to contain at least one space worthy ship. He bend down over the bike and accelerated. With luck he would be off Dandoran and back on his own ship within a couple of hours. Then he could be free of this unravelling, three way insanity and be back on Aeotheran a few days later. Presumably the rest of his House and Clan would drift in a few days later if they had any common sense.
He let the miles pass calmly, occasionally glancing at the display to ensure he was on the correct route. He was. Eventually more buildings came in sight and he slowed the bike down, surveying the target destination. There were no signs of life but he was feeling cautious. The depot was a large squat building, surrounded by a chain link fence. A big loading door was open at one side of the building, and hopefully there was a ship inside he could take. He passed through the open gate and stopped the speeder.
He walked towards the building, feeling a sense of deja vu, and pulled his scattergun from where it was clipped to the back of his armour. He continued towards the open door. Inside he could see a beaten up looking Ghtroc freighter, a garbage scow compared with his own upgraded Lancer but it was space and hyperspace capable. It would do if it functioned. Feeling more confident he walked forward towards it. In a matter of minutes he would be airborne. He passed through the doors, and then stopped, sensing something strange around him. He gripped the scattergun and looked around, and then stepped back as several figures appeared from behind crates. His eyes narrowed. They were strange robed figures, with hooded cloaks, and like the mutilated Severian troopers he had seen several days earlier, they had the same crystals emerging from beneath their skin, though less dense. They carried saber hilts though and they were watching him with the same intensity. He felt a pressure on his mind and shook it away. One of them suddenly moved and he pulled the trigger of his scattergun, the expanding pellets striking one of the creatures in the chest and sending it staggering back. Dropping the scattergun he drew his saber igniting it.
As their companion fell, another of the abominations raised a hand and force lightning surged towards him. He caught it with his saber, sending it arching up and down the blade, and he struggled against it, and then pushed it back as he leapt forward. The abomination met his saber with it's own, the blue hilt meeting the Sith's white one, and as Malisane felt another moving towards him for a strike he used all his strength to batter against his opponent. The creature was talented and quick but Malisane was bigger and stronger and a few seconds later he saw a gap in the defence and thrust forward, slicing deep into a clear patch of skin in the things chest, then slicing his blade up and out of its body.
As it felt a second blast of lightning hit him, this time too quick to block and he felt a surge of pain as it arched over his armour, the energy penetrating his defences and he grit his teeth. He forced himself to turn towards it, and advance and then through his pain he focused on the enemy and its connection to the force, nullifying it. As the lightning faded he struck out himself, smashing the creature from its feet with a solid invisible blow. He turned in time to meet a saber aimed at his body, blocking it. The first enemy he had shot was attacking him now, its chest ripped open and bleeding from the pellets that had hit it but it seemed to ignore the damage. Perhaps it lacked the intelligence to realise it was dead. Their sabers met and Malisane focused on trying to batter its weapon aside, as behind him he heard movement as the opponent he had knocked down was beginning to rise.
The Sith backed off slightly, as he heard move movement. The creature he was fighting sensed his change in stance and pressed him as another bolt of lightning hit him jarring his body, and the enemy in front thrust at his body, its blue saber slicing along his beskar armour with a burst of sparks, cutting into it but not penetrating. Malisane, sensing that he was in trouble, hit the button on his wrist and he felt a surge as his jetpack burst into life, sending him high amongst the crates and narrowly missing another bolt of lightning. As he landed on the top of a stack of crates he deactivated his saber and tensed himself, raising his weapon. From below the two creatures were joined by another pair from the doorway, and the four looked up at him coldly. Then he sighed as he heard the whine of speeder engines outside. Two he could probably handle, four was possible though he would likely be leaving injured and needing assistance once he got back to the Tenixir forces. With more arriving the best he could do would be to die with some dignity, even if it was alone in this hellhole.
He took a deep breath, and then frowned. The crystal creatures below suddenly reacted strangely, seemingly loosing interest in him. As he watched wearily they flickered out of sight, and his gaze swept over to the doorway. Then he powered up the jetpack again gaining height as several grenades bounced through the doorway. He managed to avoid the explosion that sent a tower of crates toppling down, and gripped his saber as several armoured figures burst through the doorway firing. Malisane looked on grimly as he recognised the heavy crystallised form of the restoration troopers. Immediately the crystal ascendants appeared surrounding them, attacking with lightning and saber strikes, as the troopers turned to meet them, attacking back with brutal attacks. Malisane resisted the urge to join in the melee as he watched in fascination. The forms of the combatants below were similar but the styles different. How this madness had taken hold of both the Severians and this new faction was a mystery but not one he cared about. He watched for a few more seconds as the mutants battled for supremacy. And then slowly drew his grenade launcher from his back.
The explosion threw the mutant enemies back as the grenade landed amongst them. As the smoke cleared the restoration troopers appeared to be trying to rise, their crystaline skin burned but not seriously damaged, through the lighter armoured ascendants seemed to have taken more damage and were still. Malisane paused a few seconds, then fired another grenade, and a second explosion rocked the large room this time sending several stacks of crates crashing down. The restoration troopers were more still now, but twitching, and the Sith sensed even a second blast would not hold them for long. With a glance at them he fired his jetpack again, soaring briefly up, and then down towards the closed ramp to the freighter. Wrenching the manual release he waited while it quickly lowered, and then as he saw the troopers began to rise he sprinted inside, hitting the button to close it. A second before it closed he saw more troopers entering the depot.
He felt the ship began to rock as blaster fire hit it. He reached the cockpit and quickly sat in the chair. He was not a great pilot but knew enough to get the ship moving, and as he fired up the engines he felt it surge forward, narrowly clearing the door and scattering restoration troopers in its wake. As the battered freighter burst into the open he saw more speeders heading towards him, each carrying a mutilated trooper, and each were disembarking to fire at the freighter. Malisane pulled the controls back and the ship gained height, still shaking as more blaster fire from below hit its hull. Then Malisane breathed a sigh of relief as the ship climbed out of range. A few seconds later it cleared the atmosphere.
Malisane studied the view in front of him as the darkness of space became visible. Around him battle raged. The heavier Severian ships met the lighter Tenixir ones, and neither appeared to have an advantage. Wherever the dreadnaught he had left his ship at he had no idea. Maybe it was engaged, maybe it was destroyed. He sighed. In all his years in the Brotherhood he had never run from a fight, but this was not his fight or even his Clan's, and the battered Ghtroc was barely able to get him away let alone engage. With a final look at the carnage around him he engaged the hyperdrive and he felt the ship respond. He was going home.