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The Force Wills - Chapter 148
🕑 Added 2025-11-07 12:08:41 +0000 UTCMy left lightsaber flew through the air in a blur, perfectly intercepting the exotic violet plasma bolt that streaked straight towards Korkie’s face.
The bolt didn’t deflect.
It exploded in a mess of ichor corrupted plasma that kept on going and landing on Korkie’s armor that began corroding away at it. The beskar did its usual job, but the plasma that reached the flexible portions of the neck ate away at the material beneath, reaching skin…
The scream of pain that he released was horrifying-
My foot slammed into the earth beneath me.
The ground in front of Korkie erupted, forming a slab of compacted soil that blocked the plasma bolt cold. Its eruption and ichor corrosion spent itself harmlessly on it.
To the Blades’ credit, they didn’t break ranks, panic or move in the face of the invisible unknown threat, they kneeled and kept scanning their sectors for a target.
I moved close to their formation, my senses straining in the present and future to pick up any trace of the invisible Nightsister that was hunting us.
Another ichor plasma bolt lanced towards us from the left, I threw up a narrow wall of earth to block.
The Blades on that side opened fire with rapid bursts, shooting on either side of the incoming fire, trying to hit their invisible dodging opponent.
They missed unfortunately - the bolts only hitting air and shooting off into the distance.
I readied two clumps of compacted earth underneath my feet.
The next deadly ichor bolt came from above and behind, directly on the dorsal hull of the Aurna, trying to hit me in the back.
I launched both compacted clumps, slightly larger than a football, straight behind me with no mnemonic or warning.
The ichor bolt spent itself on the first, causing it to explode into a deadly cloud of corrupted plasma, neatly hiding the passage of the second clump, which I gave a sudden boost in speed.
I didn’t manage to directly hit my opponent, but my kinetic strike did clip her on the shoulder as she tried to evade.
She didn’t even cry out in pain, the only reason I knew I had hit, was my Control awareness over the projectile’s energy.
I knew she would immediately jump and reposition - the question was, where?
My Kinetic Control surged outward, raising a foot wide wall of earth right in front of Sergeant Kast.
An unstable, ghostly green, rippling blade of energy was deflected just enough, cutting through the wall, but gave enough time for Kast to roll backward.
That was not a lightsaber blade, it was like a rippling line of ichor that had been stabilized just enough to function in close quarters, but it was clearly attached to something. It was frustrating that her invisibility was holding despite the attack - this was clearly no novice.
In a moment, every Mando opened fire against the ichor blade’s position.
The blade vanished and again no hits.
Frak this.
Playing this deadly game of hide, seek and shoot was not going to end well. It was fighting on the Nightsister’s terms and her own element. My read into the future bore that out, soon, no matter how I defended, she was going to attack in a way that would force me to choose and sacrifice one my squad for another.
Doing this on the end of a proxy droid connection was… problematic.
I felt my actual meatbag fist straining on the Omen, thousands of light years away, as I stretched out my Control as subtly as possible through the earth under our feet, spreading it out only a few centimeters deep, but covering as wide an area as I could manage.
Again, this Nightsister was very good.
With the grassland around us, with wavy odd blades of grass, slightly rustling in a breeze all around us, she was managing to disturb none of them as she moved invisibly. How she was managing that was eluding me, but there was one thing she would never be able to affect, no matter how good her illusion skills.
She still needed friction and leverage to move, to push off the earth she was jumping and running on around us.
There!
She had landed diagonally to my left, on one foot, just nine meters away.
Another foot touched down and spread out backward - a firing position I recognized from watching Nightsister training - a bow. She was using a Nightsister energy bow, but this was the first time I’d seen them firing these ichor projectiles that were specifically designed to counter lightsaber deflection.
Her angle was specifically aiming for another shot at Korkie.
With all the Force Speed I could muster… a level that would’ve easily torn muscles had I been my meatbag self - I moved.
I attacked high and low, aiming to decapitate and cut off her legs at the knees.
The ichor blade appeared from nowhere, blocking my blades with the perfect length, just in time.
My left foot was the actual attack - I felt the briefest moment of panic and surprise through the Force - just before my hyperalloy steel foot met woven fabric and flesh.
The surface area of the impact was too big for my foot to puncture through, but it was enough to crack ribs and give enough blunt trauma to wreck the dathomiri equivalent of the kidney.
The nightsister then learned that physics was a bitch and flung backward through the air like a speeder had hit her.
I was in no mood to drag this fight out and sprinted forward in her wake.
Amazingly, her invisibility held despite the injury and pain, which impressed the hell out of me. It also indicated that perhaps she didn’t even need to concentrate to maintain ichor-empowered stealth.
I felt her body hit the ground hard.
Before she could even get her wits back, I was there and my right blade slashed through the air.
I felt the slightest hint of resistance as the red blade seared through flesh and bone.
A left arm holding a very ornate energy bow, made of white bone and trailing ghostly green ichor flew through the air to land limply a few meters away.
I stabbed both lightsabers into the ground on either side of where I judged her invisible neck to be, before my knee came down to rest on her chest with just enough pressure that she couldn’t move an inch.
“Drop the invisibility, nightsister, now.”
For the longest few seconds, there was no reply, but I could now feel her body acutely beneath me with the Force. I could feel her battered form and the damaged kidney, I could reach down and do so many things to her that didn’t require me to move a single inch.
I pushed down to cross the hilts of my sabers, turning them into a plasmatic scissor that was ready to decapitate the nightsister in a moment.
They hissed angrily as they were driven deeper into the earth.
In a rippling wave of green ichor, a dathomiri woman appeared beneath my knee. She wore a blood red tunic that flowed into a red clingy mini-skirt, with shorts beneath. Upper thigh was bare with gray skin, but the rest of her was covered with wrapped leggings and contoured boots perfect for traction and stealth. Her white tattooed face was contorted with pain and she stared at me with defiant anger from furious emerald eyes.
“Do what you must, Jedi,” she snarled.
“I must do nothing at your behest, nightsister,” I retorted with deathly calm. “You were hired to kidnap and eventually kill Korkie Kryze after his interrogation. It was your illusion skills which helped in the ambush. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if your illusions are also the reason why the Separatist base is so well hidden on this planet - meaning you are also on a long term contract with them.”
“Assume all you want. I will tell you nothing!” Her eyes blazed with hatred so strong, they might as well have been Death Star beams.
“You really want me to kill you,” I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. “I’m sorry, but I don’t do what my enemies want. Your name, nightsister?”
She tried to use her free right arm, forming another ichor blade right from her hand to slice me.
It was desperate, sloppy and unfocused, looking more like a bat than a blade.
My Control pulled in and I bullied straight through her weakened passive protections.
Her arm and blade froze stiffly in mid air, just a few centimeters from breaching my holographic sheathe.
“It is useless, nightsister. Last chance, your name.”
She spit into my face, but this wasn’t just saliva - it was glowing green, ichor laden mucous that I knew would make a mess of the HK-HPs face.
My will brought up a small kinetic shield, catching the awful stuff in mid-air to become a globule of nastiness.
“Fine, the hard way it is.”
I plunged my will straight into her mind and hit her with an overpowered Force Sleep.
For the briefest of moment’s, she actually resisted, but I brought all of my available power into the task and hit her defenses like a tsunami.
Her resistance crumbled and she went out like a candle, forcefully pulled into la-la land.
I pulled my blades out of the ground and extinguished them, “Clear! Sergeant Kast, Medic Saxon, get her stabilized for transport. Two of you on guard duty, the rest board and prep for take off.”
The two Mando’s stowed their weapons and raced towards me to carry out the order, whilst the rest scrambled to obey.
“We’re keeping her alive?” Korkie asked, not batting an eye as I summoned the nightsister’s severed arm and ichor bow with the Force.
I stopped the latter, hovering it a foot in front of me, whilst dropping the arm next to its owner, where Saxon grabbed it - efficiently securing it on the nightsister’s chest for the moment.
This close I saw the bow was actually made of rancor bone, with cruel angles to its curved arms. I could now feel the ichor suffusing every part of it, waiting for the instruction to become either an energy drawstring or a plasmatic blade.
“Yes,” I answered after a few moments of parsing the weapon’s workings. The memories of living as a young Mother Talzin surging to the forefront - at least letting me conclude that I could touch and hold the weapon without any ill-effects. Using it was out of the question, as most nightsister bows were as personalized as a lightsaber. This weapon was in the same vein as the Darksaber, but would kill anyone unauthorized trying to actually shoot with it. I grabbed it out of the air with my left hand, testing the weight and balance. “There is an… understanding between the Nightsisters and Clan Vizsla. She was undoubtedly hired by the Separatists as a mercenary. Yes, she tried to kill you, me and the rest of us. That will not be brushed under the rug and I can extract concessions from the Nightsisters. Make no mistake, Korkie, had any of you been injured or killed by her, then she would not be breathing. There’s also the fact that she can guide us right to the Separatist base.”
“Will she even give up that information?” he asked, folding his arms and cocking his head pointedly at me. He was undoubtedly thinking that common field interrogation techniques were not really something a Jedi could safely do without brushing uncomfortably close to the Dark Side.
“Such crude methods will not be necessary, let’s go.”
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Korkie carefully guided the Aurna to a landing on a clearing within a forested valley some sixty kilometers west of the Undergrove.
His hands moved with practiced confidence over the holo controls to power down the systems and secure them into a stealthy low-emission mode.
He looked to the side and couldn’t help the shudder in his spine at seeing the HK-HP droid without holosheathe in the co-pilot seat.
Droids as a rule were something that traditional Mandalorian culture shunned. Even modern New Mandalorians only used them for the most basic and unpleasant menial tasks and jobs, which usually happened out of sight and mind in the domed cities of Mandalore. His studies and training with Clan Vizsla and others, told of the ancient Basilisk war droid mounts that the old crusaders would ride into battle against the Jedi of the Old Republic.
It was interesting, that from a certain point of view, Ahsoka was actually riding the HK-HP into battle.
Now, however, she was disconnected. Her bright warm presence in the Force gone, to be replaced with a cold empty shell of an armored skeletal droid that was more than a little frightening in appearance. Malevolent red optics twitched in their sockets as the HK-HP monitored the ECM and weapons of the ship in its default hunter-killer configuration. Human style teeth set in a metallic jaw without the cover of skin, facial cheeks and lips created a morbid sight - as if the droid was constantly grinning diabolically at you.
Ahsoka had been gone for hours at this point and he really wished she would hurry up.
“Uh, HK-HP…” he winced as nerves constricted his throat, he coughed. “Would it be possible for you to assume a less… intimidating appearance?”
“It would,” said the droid flatly with a rather peculiar Basic accent, that was distinctly a deep masculine in tone. “Do you have a preference or should I select one?”
“Can’t you just assume Ahsoka’s again?”
“Negative, the mistress’ form is restricted and can only be assumed with her direct instruction or when she connects to me.”
“Oh, well, just choose whatever you feel is fine.”
HK-HP’s skeletal hands paused briefly, its neck tilting in a display of body language as it clearly thought about the form it would choose.
Light rippled over the droid as its projectors activated and Korkie felt his brain blank for a moment as he beheld a woman seated next to him.
She had a delicate, fine bone structure with refined jawline and prominent cheekbones, vor’kesh shaped, slightly upturned eyes and a fair complexion that was almost luminous in quality. Expressive eyebrows and a full lipped mouth set in a serene expression. Her overall features were very symmetrical which conveyed an otherworldly, doll-like fragility. Eyes that were spaced slightly further apart than he was used to - portraying some form of human genome that might be arkanian, but gave the HK-HP an indefinable innocence. It was enhanced by a heart shaped face that narrowed to a pointed chin. She looked barely a few years older than he was now.
Oh, and she was wearing a white bodysuit that molded to generous curves around her hips, long legs and a modest but very attractive bust.
“Is this form better?” she asked, her feminine voice now a lilting high pitch and easy on the ears.
“Yes, it is, thank you,” he coughed uncomfortably, facing forward to look out of the cockpit. It was difficult to imagine that underneath that prettiness was a very dangerous killing machine. He also acknowledged that it was the perfect disguise to attract any man and maybe even some women.
Korkie reached out with the Force, checking on the nightsister - still thoroughly asleep and bound on the troop deck, with two guards aiming blasters directly at her.
Paranoia satisfied, he sat back in the pilot chair and tried to enter into a light meditation.
He managed but it wasn’t long until thoughts of Ahsoka intruded.
Frustration at the failure was banished and he tried again, this time he actually managed to appear within the infinite expanse of his own mind - which manifested as what seemed to be a water world with Mandalore’s sun hovering in a bright cloudless sky. His feet would always treat the water as solid ground. It was so still and clear that you would be forgiven for thinking it was pure crystal glass. Only a deliberate footstep would break that assumption, sending ripples outward into the infinite expanse.
He enjoyed coming here for what he personally called ‘Oneness’, as it allowed an experience of the Force in a more pure way.
It was very tempting to just spend hours and hours in this state, but Ahsoka’s warnings rang in his mind about the danger. Her stories of even old Jedi Masters beginning to neglect themselves more and more, in favor of just pursuing ‘Oneness’, leaving the material universe behind entirely, came to the fore.
“The day may come when you or I take that road in the future, but it is not done at the expense of the journey to get there.”
He forced himself to stand, watching the infinite expanse for a while.
It took even more effort to tear himself away from that seductive bliss in the Force, focusing on the now.
A lightsaber appeared in his hand.
The hilt was blurry and unfocused, feeling contoured in his hand. The blade itself burst into life and lit the entire immediate area with a cerulean blue.
He had never chosen the color and in his correspondence with Ahsoka, she indicated that it was entirely normal and for the moment, strongly indicated he was leaning to the path of a Jedi Guardian.
A loud gong resounded throughout the expanse.
She was back and politely requesting entry.
He had barely thought about letting her in, when she appeared right next to him.
Her twinkling blue eyes regarded the area around them with interest. In this place, she had foregone the appearance of wearing a beskar’gam and instead wore very short leggings, combat boots and a wrapped tunic that bared her toned abdomen.
It took every bit of self-control Korkie had not to just stand there and stupidly drink in her visage.
Her mouth twitched in amusement, as if she knew what she was doing to him and was definitely enjoying it.
“Well done, Korkie,” she said, her right hand now holding one of her own lightsabers, which brought forth a green blade into being. “It is amazing to see what you’ve achieved with only distance learning from me as a method. The required discipline to not need a teacher or master for learning is something that most do not possess.”
He managed to gather his wits and only bowed in acknowledgement, batting away any internal pride before it could even form.
“How have you fared with the vibroblade?”
Korkie winced, “Governor Togai tells me that my progress with it is adequate. It doesn’t feel that way.”
“To be expected, he’s Clan Vizsla’s best and I’m sure he could even pound the best of Saxon and Skirata into the dirt. However, it is time to bring you properly into the forms of the lightsaber. So far, I’ve only given you the basics of Shii-Cho to practice by yourself with a practice blade. Here we have no fear of injuring each other and time is of little worry to us here.”
“Shouldn’t you be interrogating the nightsister?”
“Done already,” she waved him off. “Focus on this for now. I want to take advantage of this time we have together, Korkie. It’s very precious, given who our enemies are.”
He nodded and instinctively raised his own blade into a horizontal high block, to catch Ahsoka’s green blade, which thundered down with such strength that it made his knees buckle.
She pulled back, “Good, do not think any opponent will give you the time to observe the niceties of a duel. Some Sith will, simply because they are that arrogant and think themselves above the need for a surprise attack.”
Korkie frowned, “More have surfaced?”
“Dooku has a new apprentice and the enemy a new general, Savage Opress.” She gestured to the side and a tall, muscular figure appeared - a dark armored zabrak with awful yellow eyes of Force corruption and carrying a saberstaff. “Should you ever see him, retreat. He is an opponent no one should think themselves confident of defeating, especially a neophyte Force user such as yourself, Korkie. Understand?”
He shuddered at the thought of ever crossing blades with anything that looked like that. “Yes, well, unless I’m left with no choice in the matter.”
“As good an answer as I’m going to get,” she sighed. Her next attack was just as abrupt, consisting of rapid slashes to his knees and shoulders that he intercepted, deflected, even managed a riposte, which she easily dodged and redirected, leaving them with locked blades.
“Shii-Cho, despite being what is taught to younglings, is not a form to dismiss as something to graduate from and leave behind. Master Kit Fisto uses it as his primary combat technique to this day and is considered one of the Order’s strongest. He has taken it to a level that makes him akin to a raging river against an opponent. So I must ask, do you feel that this form calls to you in particular? Does it feel awkward in any way?”
Korkie thought about it for a moment, “It isn’t awkward, it just… lacks something? That’s the best word I can use for it.”
“Very well, let’s move on to Form 2 Makashi…”
Over what felt like the next hour, Ahsoka led him through the fluid, one handed blade manipulation of Kakashi, the tight close-in, low energy Soresu, the wide, powerful swings of Ataru whilst doing insanely complex Force acrobatics to open odd angles on your opponent and finally the strong offense of Djem So.
“Are those the only ones?” he asked curiously, something about Soresu called to him but Djem So just seemed to be most applicable and practical to use in a war.
“Far from it,” she shook her head. “There are many recognized forms, some less known or developed to fill a niche. Form six is known as Niman, which could be said to be an amalgamation of one, three, four and five. It might seem common sense to use that, but the danger is that it leaves you unfocused and less capable in a chosen Form. Form seven is Juyo and I can’t even begin to show you that because it is chaotic, deadly and almost exclusively used by Dark Side practitioners. A jumble of unconnected staccato sequences that flows purely into offense with one goal, to utterly destroy your opponent.”
She gestured to the side and another different zabrak came into existence, shorter, more nimble, with a red and black tattooed face, also wielding a lit saberstaff, who was fighting another Jedi who still had a padawan braid.
The speed of the fight was incredible and the zabrak’s blades poured out that pure offense in a way that Korkie knew he would instantly succumb should he have found himself standing in front of it. Yet, this younger Jedi, who looked rather familiar, absorbed the attacks with an equally lightning fast defense.
Ahsoka raised her hand and the memory stopped, then faded away
“That was Juyo in action at a very high level of mastery. It has a refined form called Vaapad, which thus far only Master Windu and two others have achieved without falling to the Dark Side.”
Another memory arrived, it showed the dark skinned master in question fighting a blurred opponent and Korkie couldn’t help but be startled at the sheer furious intensity on the master’s face as his violet blade flowed and flowed into an offensive power that looked… amazing.
Ahsoka chuckled ruefully, “I’m going to stop you right there. Every youngling and padawan dreams of attaining Vaapad. They see Master Windu’s demonstrations and say it’s ‘wizard’. Their teachers and masters are quick to disabuse them of the notion.”
Korkie brought his own blade into an inner ring block barely in time to stop Ahsoka’s slash at his left side. Then frantically moved into another angled block as another lunge tried to stab him through the stomach, which became another attack on his head just as quickly.
Ahsoka’s offense battered and battered at his defenses, which left not a single inch for any thought to counter-attack.
Then he felt it.
A darkness, a sharp, cloying coldness that fell on his spirit and mind.
It wanted to kill and destroy. It wanted to remake the galaxy into something else. Killing all the slavers, criminals and scum of the galaxy for daring to breathe and spread their misery. It wanted to take the politicians who were just as bad, if not worse, then dump them on the lowest levels of Coruscant to live and die by the terrible conditions there. It would bring peace and utopia by rivers of blood. It would break the cycle.
The next thing Korkie knew he was on his knees, his lightsaber gone and Ahsoka’s green blade resting near his neck.
For the briefest of moments her eyes looked hungrily at him - as if she would push him down and…
It was gone, banished and her blue eyes now only showed her typical look of knowing serenity.
The blade hissed back into its hilt.
“What… what was that?” Korkie gasped.
“That was the Dark Side. More specifically, my own. You need to know what it feels like, especially at the level of training you have reached. You have your own Dark Side that will need to be confronted and eventually dealt with. I also gave you no warning because neither will your own darkness helpfully send a warning that it’s coming to tempt you. To bring this back around to my point about Vaapad, it’s a state of mind paired with a refined Juyo. You must partially embrace your Dark Side, relish and enjoy the fight, savor the victory when it comes and then just as quickly retreat from that seductive mindset. The level of self-mastery required for that beggars belief. Masters Windu, Billaba and Quinlan Vos are the only current Jedi in the galaxy who have attained Vaapad and none of them will tell you they have ‘mastered’ it.”
“I- I see… I think,” he breathed, his mind still stuck on the feeling of Ahsoka’s Dark Side.
“In time, you will,” she agreed. “Right now, you need to destress a bit and think about this lesson. The Dark Side is not a subject approached lightly. I’ve ordered everyone to get at least six hours rest. I’m not assaulting a Separatist base with tired men and women.”
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“Our prisoner has revealed the main enemy base on Raydonia, in exchange for her life and imprisonment for the duration of the war in a casket on Concordia.” There were grumbles from the Blades around the troop deck as they looked at the holo my HK-HP was projecting from my shoulder. “Yes, it’s not ideal, but the sooner this base is destroyed, the better. And once I describe it, I have a feeling you’ll agree.”
The holo shifted to show a local 3D map of a fog-shrouded canyon sinkhole in a mountain range roughly 500 km north-west, near the edge of the continent.
“This is the Kre’thul Caves, its entrance is at the bottom of this 200 meter drop. It’s currently being hidden by our friendly nightsister’s illusions, but she’s agreed to dispel it just before our attack. This leads into a network of dormant lava tube tunnels, which has also been expanded by the phrik mining operations. The base itself is housed in this kilometer wide underground cavern. Inside is a phrik refinery and a droideka factory line, which is making their phrik alloy chassis. These will then be smuggled offworld in cloaked light freighters back into Separatist space for final assembly. I trust you understand what a disaster phrik droidekas would be? Or phrik war droids of any kind?”
I received stoic nods even as I felt their mild dread at the thought.
“Good, our job will be to infiltrate quietly and make our way inside using this route.”
Which was highlighted on the map for them.
“We will be slicing the outer hard line sensors, which will be Jhaveb’s primary task.” I nodded towards the young Mando, who felt rather anxious at being given such a critical role. “Opposing us will be natural chokepoints that are patrolled by B2s, acid pools and lethal gases, natural and those formed by the phrik refinement processes. You will need to switch your beskar’gam into sealed void fighting mode for the duration.”
Which automatically put a safe time limit on how long we could spend down there.
“Our primary target is the phrik refinery and droid assembly line. Both are powered by their own respective fusion reactors. We will use the high yield thermal detonators we have on board to destroy only the assembly line. The explosion will be enough to take out both and we don’t want to be in any of the caverns or lava tubes when it goes off.”
Korkie raised his hand.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Looking at the topography of the area, could the detonation of these reactors cause the dormant volcano to become otherwise?”
“That is entirely possible,” I nodded. “Luckily for us and the people of Raydonia, there are no nearby settlements as the enemy didn’t want an unlucky farmer or herder stumbling upon them. Granted no one on the planet would want a volcanic eruption like this, considering the ash, dust and debris it will launch into the air, conceivably cooling the planet by a few degrees for months, but there is no alternative. This base must go. I wish there was another way, but there isn’t.
“Further questions?”
The seven surviving Blades looked at each other before shaking their heads.
“Good, do your final armor and equipment checks, we take off in five minutes.”
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The Aurna shook, being buffeted by the high altitude crosswinds in the mountain range.
Korkie winced as he was strapped into the deployment seat on the troop deck and acutely felt every bump, which in turn sent spikes of mild aches and pains through his own bruising underneath the armor.
His nerves weren’t helped by the fact that Ahsoka was sitting directly across from him and the ship was being flown by M8, who was thousands of light years away!
“Three minutes!”
Sergeant Kast was conducting the drop. Her gaze fixed into the ventral sensor readout from her own seat.
“Three minutes!” Everyone echoed in return.
These drops weren’t new to him, he had a grand total of five combat drops to his credit, but they never got easier.
In talking to the old hands and veterans, many of them didn’t even count them anymore and considered it no more stressful than a slight hop. There were some who were more at home in the air with jetpacks than others. Korkie, on the other hand, despite being able to do it and not freezing in fear, hated it with a passion.
Yes, it was exhilarating, but the idea that he was being kept in the air only so long as everything worked perfectly in the jetpack with zero margin for error or a backup safety of some sort, was equally horrifying.
He had watched as three of his squad fell to their deaths, his own jetpack had barely managed to cling to life, stuttering as he tried to land as quickly as possible without being splattered on the hard unyielding earth.
Most of his meditation had so far been spent pushing away that newly created fear, trying to snuff it out in its infancy and he had been mostly successful.
“10 seconds!”
“10 seconds!” he shouted.
He took a deep breath in and out, in and out.
“Drop!”
The hull of the Aurna opened beneath him, the roar of turbulence and engines mostly muffled by his helmet, reducing it to a tolerable din.
He was propelled downward and released into open sky, the ship’s systems doing the job of activating their jetpacks faster than any reflex could manage.
Korkie pulled his arms and legs into the streamlined flight position, carefully using his beskar’gam’s internal sensors with deliberate muscle twitches of his arms and legs to direct his course through the cool high mountain air.
He let himself take one moment to admire the superb view - snow-capped mountains as far as the eye could see, stretching to the horizon. The local star glinting off those peaks, picturesque hues of stone, rock and multitude of flora. High above, an endless blue sky with streaked bands of clouds in the upper atmosphere.
The moment passed and he embraced the Force to augment reflexes, before diving down in Ahsoka’s wake.
The entire squad fell into formation as the dive continued, the mountain below racing towards them.
His HUD highlighted the target point - a seemingly solid point between two neighboring mountains, streaked with vines.
At this point, they should’ve already been slowing down and pulling out of the dive, but Ahsoka just kept going - angling them into the target.
As the mountain surface came closer, so did the fear - he did his utmost with the Litany, but he barely held on.
Shabla, come on, Ahsoka! Pull us up! He screamed inside his head.
Yet they kept the dive going, the earth rose to greet them faster and faster, and even his HUD began blaring a low altitude warning.
“Shabuir’la os’ik! Os’ik, os’ik, os’iiiiiik!” (Fucking shit! Shit, shit, shiiiiit!)
The world suddenly rippled around them as they punched through the illusion and it opened up into a darkened canyon.
Finally, Ahsoka flipped over to begin slowing down, the rest of the squad following suit.
In a feet first orientation, their descent slowed to barely 40kph, allowing them to unlatch their GALAAR-15 blaster rifles.
Korkie carefully scanned his sector of responsibility on the left flank, switching on his HUD’s night vision.
The sun’s illumination didn’t penetrate far into the narrow canyon and by the time they slowly touched down onto the rocky floor, they were almost in pitch darkness.
Ahsoka sent two brief pings through the team comlink, signaling all clear.
She led the way and the team stacked behind her, every odd rifle pointing left, whilst even rifles covered the right flank.
Jhaveb was right behind her, his left hand already holding a datapad-logic spike combo for the slicing that was to come.
They moved with silent purpose, their footsteps muffled by the purposed design and materials of their boots.
Thirty meters later they came to the entrance of a lava tube and Ahsoka held up a fist to halt them, which she lowered to bring them to a knee.
One gesture with her hand and Korkie felt the Force ripple.
Small sparks lit up on a boxy sensor that was attached to one side of the tube.
Jhaveb rushed forward and with practiced confidence, opened the side of the sensor with a small plasma tool and jabbed his slicer pad’s spike into it.
Barely ten seconds later he signaled success and removed the device.
They moved into the tube at a steady pace, the rear being taken up by Sergeant Kast.
The first true obstacle was a quiescent and deadly acid pool that was steadily eating its way through the bottom of the lava tube. It was more than sixteen meters in length and Korkie could only imagine the smell. His HUD also began blaring warnings of deadly heavier than air gasses that were pooling around the area as well.
Ahsoka traversed it first by using the HK-HP’s climbing abilities, skittering along the wall of the tube before climbing further, moving upside down, over the acid pool with machine precision and speed.
Korkie engaged his jetpack at a mere 5%, just enough to counteract gravity with a little margin over the top.
A single running jump let him hover over the pool and touch down safely on the other side.
The lava tube snaked left and right for another few hundred meters before Ahsoka paused the squad at a turn.
Her hand signal showed two B2s waiting for any intruder in the darkness.
She gestured to him and ordered two droid poppers.
Korkie snuck closer up the line next to her and readied the devices in both hands before throwing them around the corner with a casual underarm toss.
The clink of the poppers' steel on stone echoed only once before both settled at the B2’s feet.
“Did you hear that?” the B2 droned to its partner.
“Scan-”
Both poppers erupted into overcharged EM energy that instantly caused the B2s to seize from shorts and visible electric arcs played over their armor.
The single red sensor in the shoulders burst into fragments as their motive systems fried and twitched in the darkness.
Ahsoka burst forward with her lightsabers, slashing the B2s through the waist which led fluently to a second slash that sliced their chests diagonally through their main processing clusters, preventing any last second message from being sent.
She didn’t even let the glowing pieces clatter to the floor, catching and levitating them with the Force, setting them down softly onto the hard rock.
The red blades vanished and darkness returned.
They were now beyond the main perimeter of the base and the lava tube began a steady decline deeper into the earth.
Finally, they turned around a curving bend and Ahsoka ordered the advance to a slow stealthy step.
Ahead was clear artificial light and the end of the tube.
Korkie knelt behind her as they stacked to the right side, looking into the huge space beyond.
Inside the cavern to the left, the droid assembly building, towered fifty meters high, 200 in length and showed clear signs of prefabricated construction and rounded shapes. The next door phrik refinery was the same, except for the wide emission towers that ran along the main structure. The refinery smoke pooled along the cavern ceiling and left a roiling cloud above that was finding escape somewhere.
A near constant stream of B1 droid workers moved back and forth between the two buildings, pushing hoversleds filled with refined phrik ingots. Another line of B1s walked off to the right, disappearing down another lava tube and those were returning with carts of raw ore.
The sheer amount of it was mind blowing.
If this is released to the market unregulated, it would collapse the price very quickly, he thought.
It was almost a pity that they were going to destroy the mine. Was it possible to make a beskar phrik alloy? Would it make a super alloy or would they end up with a metal that was so strong it was utterly unworkable and consequently useless? He made a mental note to ask the Armorer.
There were no armed B1s, B2s or droidekas in immediate sight, the local tac droid was as efficient with its defenses as possible, probably keeping them on standby in charging cradles inside the buildings. Static defenses were also not evident and it seemed that secrecy was considered the main protection.
Ahsoka began signing with her left hand, ‘Single firing line, two meter spread, fire and advance.’
They hurried to obey, walking forward with a tactical crouch, rifles tucked into their shoulders. Their tac net came alive in their respective HUDs, indicating which targets each team mate was aiming at.
Ahsoka raised her WESTARs and fired.
Korkie and the rest joined in moments later.
Blue plasma bolts began streaming across the space in rapid bursts.
B1 workers sparked, flailing the ground in death and malfunction.
In what felt like no time at all, Korkie’s HUD declared he had killed nine.
The fire was quick, controlled and disciplined. The B1s threw down their loads and attempted to retreat into the buildings, but were gunned down in the back.
By the time they were halfway to the factory, the field was littered with dozens of dead droids.
The first defenders emerged, a trio of B2-ACMs, which just as swiftly died under the combined fire of seven GALAARs and two WESTARs.
More B2s came from behind, pushing their dead out of the way. Then they died in turn, collapsing forward.
B2s pushed the dead pile forward, using it as temporary cover to emerge and fire back.
Ahsoka reached into the hard rock and he felt the Force surge with power as she ripped boulder sized pieces up into the air in front of their firing line for impromptu cover.
Korkie twitched as a B2 blast managed to tag him on the chestplate as he ducked into cover, but his beskar was up to the challenge.
‘Use the Force, idiot,’ he remonstrated himself.
He embraced the calm, gained his focus and the Force flowed as a river.
He stepped out over cover and moved.
Anticipating the enemy shots, dodging, weaving and firing back - each shot finding the mark in a B2’s sensor channel without fail.
Ahsoka pulled up more boulders, they shot forward as if fired from massive slugthrower cannons, wrecking and burying B2s and bowling over armed B1s who were responding to the threat.
He felt the Force twisting near him and from his waist a droid popper flew off.
It joined seven others and shot forward in a spread towards a company of B1s that had just emerged from the phrik refinery.
The combined EM blast wiped them out utterly, turning the entrance of the refinery to a clogged mess of twitching, collapsed droids.
The battlefield fell silent.
They stacked up on the side of the factory’s entrance. The squad comlink came alive with Ahsoka’s voice, “We have two squads of commando droids inside and they’re phrik plated. Attack their joints. Sergeant Kast, target your Whistling Birds on their optics.”
“Yes, Manda’lor.’
Ahsoka holstered her WESTARs, exchanging them for lightsabers.
Her blades lit before charging inside.
Korkie and the rest of the team hurried in her wake.
It was the difference of mere seconds and she was already holding two phrik commandos in mid-air, stabbing both blades right through their vulnerable optics.
Four more commandos charged in from the other side of the corridor, firing their blasters at the team.
He felt the thump of a shot hitting his upper backplate, before he stained his perceptions in the Force as high as they would go.
It was surreal as he fired his rifle rapidly, not even waiting for any HUD assistance.
Two successive blasts killed the commando through the optics.
His body suffused with the Force… blurred with speed to cross the distance, the vibroblade in his vambrace stabbed right through the commando’s vocorder and into the main computer there.
The high pitch of a Whistling Bird munition streaked through the narrow confines, each guided projectile finding its target without fail.
Ahsoka released something through the Force that found every remaining commando droid and they just… fell to the floor lifeless as if someone had pulled their power sources.
Korkie looked around in a somewhat stunned silence and lowered his arm to let the dead commando’s chassis drop to the floor with a clatter.
The silvery commando droids, which would’ve been the death of any other unprepared, armed force in the Republic were lying all dead around them.
“Uh, Manda’lor?” he blurted rather stupidly.
“No time, reactor room, now,” she ordered.
The team regrouped and followed her lead through the building. It was decidedly non-standardized in layout but soon enough they found a tight circular stairway that carried them downward and into a large, but cramped room. It was packed with machinery, fuel tanks and a compact fusion reactor the size of a starfighter.
“Spread out, set your charges,” Ahsoka ordered.
Korkie stowed his rifle on his back, pulled the two thermal detonators from his hip and hurried around the spherical reactor.
He slapped one charge directly on the casing, adjusting its timer to the preselected detonation time.
A quick look around and he decided to place his second charge behind a large fuel injector assembly. He was so absorbed in his task that he was only vaguely aware that another of the team was also here behind him, attaching a detonator to a fuel tank.
The Force screamed in warning and he instinctively ducked, letting his knees collapse.
A fist with attached vibroblade glanced off his helmet and stabbed into the injector’s outer casing.
Thankfully, nothing critical was damaged, only sparks erupted and nearby circuitry was utterly ruined.
Korkie didn’t think and just acted.
The Force exploded from his back in a desperate Push.
His assailant was bodily picked up and bounced off a giant fuel drum with the ringing gong of beskar impacting the reinforced durasteel of the fusion slush tanks.
He rushed forward, not giving his assassin any chance to get their wits again, his vambrace vibroblade surging forward as he landed on top of… her?
Korkie barely managed to stop his attack before the blade would’ve opened Sergeant Kast’s neck completely.
His mind was so stunned for the briefest of moments, that she almost managed to buck him off and try again.
“That’s enough of that.”
Korkie barely managed to keep his footing as Kast was ripped out from under him, the Force twisting with power, but not targeting him.
He whirled around, gasping as the traitorous Mandalorian was held in the air effortlessly by Ahsoka’s left arm, her grip around Kast’s neck.
The sergeant was gasping and twitching, her legs kicking frantically in the air, hands futilely grasping at Ahsoka’s.
The seconds ticked by and he could feel her cold, furious anger. “Very clever, Dooku. More brainwashing nerfshit.”
The awful anger vanished as if it was never there and she let the traitor drop to the floor, who was now completely unconscious, likely from a Force Sleep.
“Korkie, take her thermal charges and plant them, we have to get out of here.”
He could only nod, left speechless as he realized he had just survived another assassination plot that by all rights should’ve succeeded.
There could only be one reason for all this.
His heart could only hope that his mother was still safe on Mandalore.
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A/N: Dooku really doesn't want a Mando-Republic alliance anymore. Hope you enjoyed and may the weekend be awesome to you all!
Comments
Bruhdude
Amazing. Thanks for the chapter.
G JP
Neither Dooku nor Palpatine want this alliance. The former for obvious reasons, but the latter because he's going to be opposed to any semi-independent martial force that may take a disliking to his upcoming Empire. Meaning, Ahsoka and the Mandos have their work cut out for them, that's for sure.
