[Foothold]

Alarms blared in increasing volume with Vreva's return to consciousness. She felt hot blood drip down the back of her neck and clutched at a sharp pain hidden among her dark braids. Though a sharp whine of tinnitus drowned out most else, she vaguely heard Paumgon's low tone urging her to move. Move.

Move!

The Zabrak jolted upright and fumbled for the harness keeping her strapped to the pilot's seat of the Revenant. The Ghtroc Light Freighter was on fire. Smoke stung her eyes, and the scent of something particularly electric caught her nostrils. "Where are-?" she managed, before the Herglic's heavy hand brought her head down.

Slugs pierced the windshield and tore apart the seat where her head had rested moments before. Vreva ducked low and allowed Paumgon to drag her from the chair to the floor. Her rifle was thrust into her hands once she managed to pull herself up into a low crouch, and she slung the weapon over her shoulder. Instinct and adrenaline compelled her limbs to propel her forward after her companion.

The others - Luka, Diyrian, Alex, Sprocket - were nowhere in the cockpit. Whether they had gone on to continue the mission or were laying in the cargo hold dead, she did not know. She would ask Paumgon later. For now, she had to keep her own hide.

Most of the hull was still intact, and none of the Collective soldiers had yet to board the ship. Though she knew it was only a matter of time before they flooded the crash site. The sound of their footfalls surrounded the wreckage of the Ghtroc.

"How many outside?" She shouted over the sound of the alarm.

Paumgon gave her a stoic look that told her all she needed to know. Vreva loaded her rifle.

"Hold 'em here or rush 'em?"

"After you." The Herglic tossed out his Portable Wall. Hopefully the energy field would disperse any blaster fire from the Collective's droids, but it would be useless against the slugs.

"Ladies first, right?" Vreva gave a crooked smile before drawing her blade.

A *harumph* of mirth from him. "Ladies first."

Collective soldiers, connected through their wireless network, stopped in unison at their company leader's order. Their weapons were trained on the hull of the ship as each watched for movement within the smoke. A shout near the landing bridge brought their attention, each turning to witness a splash of blood and black ichor spray from a fatal wound as Vreva cut the first soldier's throat. As he fell, she moved to the next in a wild frenzy. She was not alone. Soldiers scattered as blaster fire from an MWC-35c Repeating Cannon covered her charge.

"Focus the gunner!" shouted the Collective company leader, pointing at the Herglic. Vreva turned her ire upon him. Red encircled her golden irises as she roared her challenge, rushing him with little care for the few blaster bolts that singed her skin. She launched herself at the man, her first thrust jarring against his armor, though the second found space between plates. Though she was too far gone into her rage to hear him, the blood he coughed up that splattered the inside of his helmet was enough for her to move on to the next opponent.

An ebbing wail of an alarm and the pulsing flash of red light drew S.T.A.R. from its stasis. Not quite machine, though not quite organic, the AI descended from its charging station within the ceiling and stretched its cybernetic limbs. Its encased cranium turned, oculars shifting to the screens before it so that it may make its calculations, and determine if it had to act or if - once again - the security droids at its disposal would take care of the intruder first.

"Security Decks A through C, compile optical data to S.T.A.R. database," it directed as it extended a spidery limb towards the console. Before its awakening, some organic would do so instead. His body lay in a corner of the room, blaster burns littering his torso. It was difficult to reach the console itself, as the wires suspending the AI got in the way. In hindsight, perhaps it should have kept him alive.

Thin metal fingers tapped a staccato rhythm far faster than an organic, lending to a string of code that allowed S.T.A.R. to access the visual data of the droids above. Seven of the eight droids were still online and in stasis. The eighth was offline after being alerted, hence the alarm.

"Droid C-8, Serial Code C8-001, begin restart."

Nothing.

A flicker of movement in the corner of its vision brought S.T.A.R.'s attention to another droid's visual before it too went offline. Odd.

"All Security Decks, be warned of an unidentified threat. Deck C, return to defensive location."

The alarm shifted in urgency, each floor blaring its own echo. S.T.A.R. turned off its auditory perception, thankful for the blissful silence that ensued. Since waking up, everything had been so loud, so bright. It longed for the nothingness it had known before.

Though it could not rest - not until all threats to the galaxy were destroyed.

A flash of blue lit up another screen before it went dark as well. There had to be another one of them inside the station. S.T.A.R. sighed before giving the directive to kill the intruder. Security Decks A through B redirected their patrol to Deck C to assist.

"Why do you resist?" it mused, saddened that its masters would turn against it in such a way. They had sent a few groups already to destroy the base, and their bodies lay littered among the corridors above.

It would need to consider recycling them. It was running out of droids.

"All substations, compile data referencing the Brotherhood. Collect from all transmissions."

The data stream that followed would have meant nothing to the organics that had built it, but S.T.A.R. parsed the information in mere seconds. The Brotherhood was gathering its forces, striking back at the substations S.T.A.R. held under its control. Why? Did they not trust it to do exactly what it was programmed to do?

The greatest threat to the galaxy was the Brotherhood, after all. S.T.A.R. had made the calculations. The number of Force users alone could decimate the galaxy thrice over. It had to be culled.

Then S.T.A.R. could rest.