Calaron Sector Orbit of the Planet Jerijador 42 ABY
Bril Teg Arga, Starosta of the Dajorran Marshals, gazed pensively through the transparisteel viewport of the Nighthawk. What started as a standard patrol of the Dajorran System had turned into an impromptu rescue mission when his Marauder-class Corvette detected a distress beacon from the nearby Jerijador system. Distress signal was undoubtedly one affiliated with the Brotherhood, and since it was in his own backyard, he felt it was his responsibility to investigate. When he heard footsteps approaching from his right, Bril turned to see a Selenian woman dressed in a blue and gold version of the uniform all naval officers in the Arconan Armed Forces wore. Her raven-colored hair was pulled up into a bun, and number of small dots that he recognized as Selenian tribal tattoos lined her left cheek just beneath her eye.
“Commander Eyotli,” he began, tilting his head in a slight bow.
“Starosta,” she replied, speaking in a staid tone, “your starfighter has been prepped for departure. I’ve also taken the liberty of preparing a small team to accompany you on your mission.”
He shook his head. “No need. I’ll be going alone.”
Although she did well to hide it on from her face, Bril sensed the doubt brewing in her mind. She didn’t say anything, so he took advantage of her silence to further explain himself.
“I don’t want to put anyone’s lives at risk if the situation on the ground becomes dangerous. Far too AAF personnel have died in recent weeks. I won’t add to that for the sake of a simple rescue mission.”
The feelings of doubt grew.
“I can tell you want to say something, Commander. Please, speak freely.”
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Commander Eyotli gave a thankful nod before she began.
“We don’t know the situation on the ground or even who it is that sent this distress signal. For all we know, it could be an enemy lying in wait to ambush you. Regardless of what the facts of the situation are, sending a unit to accompany you would be a prudent use of our resources.”
Bril considered her response. It was sound council, exactly what he expected from the most senior officer aboard the Nighthawk and his second-in-command. But as reasonable as the suggestion was, he couldn’t shake the feeling of concern he felt for the people under his command. So, he put forth a compromise.
“How about this: I go it alone, but I’ll ping my location at regular intervals to let you know everything is fine. If I miss one, you can send a team after me. Deal?”
Eyotli appeared hesitant at first, presumably taking the time to weigh his suggestion against her own. But she eventually conceded.
“Deal.”
Bril cracked a grin. “Good. I’ll depart immediately.”
Although this wasn’t his first time piloting a starfighter alone, Bril still felt his stomach tighten when his Mankvim-814 Light Interceptor successfully made the transition from space to Jerijador’s upper atmosphere. Even with how thin the atmosphere was at this elevation, he might as well have been piloting Ibaka through molasses when compared to space’s total lack of resistance. He held the fighter’s controls in a vice and took a deep breath while gradually adjusting its pitch during his descent.
“Nice and smooth, Bril,” he coached himself, “Just remember what Minnie taught you.”
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Hevan, hiding in the shadows to avoid the sun, heard the ship before he saw it. He immediately sprung to action, not knowing whether it would be aid or more enemies to kill. He seached the skies using his electrobinoculars, eventually locking on to the frame of the incoming craft.
“Don’t see many of those anymore.”
Hevan seemed to forget he was alone now. His fellow teammates had all died long ago, but at least their droid had survived up until about 3 standard rotations ago. Sent to retrive data from a crashed ship, their exfiltration was destroyed with all hands lost, themselves presumed dead in the crash. Plagueis would never send a rescue party for dead men.
He steadied his rifle, following the ship, more so curious than defensive. The pilot was… inexperienced to say the least. Hevan was confident in his abilities, but had no need to drop the pilot yet, assuming his shot both hit and wasn’t blocked by shielding.
He tracked the ship with his sight, watching the ship land. He was sure it was not a comfortable landing. The cockpit slid back, revealing the face of a man Hevan would never have expected. The face of a man Hevan had stalked through the galaxy. The face of a man who had (unknowingly?) evaded him for months.
Bril Teg Arga.
Here he was, a ship, alone, unaware of the rifle set to pierce his forehead with a bolt of plasma. But, Tahiri… she would murder Hevan, one experience he had no intention of undergoing. If she wished him to live, Hevan would respect that.
The cockpit opened with a sharp hiss, allowing Bril to leap into the air and land a few feet away. A few taps on his vambrace built in holoscreen allowed him to pinpoint the last known coordinates from which the distress signal originated. Although there was no guarantee that whoever had sent it was still actually with the ship, he hoped they had enough common sense to stay with it. It was his best chance at finding them, regardless. At least for the time being.
So, he unlatched his speeder bike from a hidden compartment in the starfighter’s hull and switched it on, causing its engines to rumble to life. The low, electronic buzz of its repulsor arrays was like music to his ears. Once that was done, Bril set off in the direction of the crashed ship.
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Hevan watched, following the bike, aiming a little ahead. Just a tap on the trigger, and Bril would be dead. He resisted the tempatation, mainly out of fear of what Tahiri would do if she found out he killed him, but also out of begrudging respect.
Without a doubt he would find the pilot and the rest of the bodies, but he questioned whether to let Bril know of his presence. It was… likely that Bril at least suspected his presence, if not already knew he was on the planet, but he would rather come to Bril then let him come to him.
Hevan lifted his rifle as Bril turned passed out of range, his eyes lingering on the ship.
Whether or not to take it. He sighed after the momentary pause, cursing under his breath as he ran towards the nearest vantage point where he could see the ship.
As he ran, he cursed himself every step he took away from the empty ship, but he knew while the pirate base was still operational, anyone leaving would die. He somewhat wanted to try, test himself in life and death situation, but it wasn`t worth it. It was a miracle that Bril had passed through atmospehric transit without being destroyed, one that Hevan was not quite sure how Bril had accomplished.
It would stand to reason that his… erratic style of not crashing wouldn’t trigger any suspicion, it would probably look like a piece of debris or small asteroid falling, but a patrol would probably be sent to investigate the ‘crash’ site.
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By the time Bril arrived at the site of the crashed ship, it had already been partially buried in the sand. Powerful gusts of wind rushed through every few minutes. When the next one came, Bril pulled the hood of his cloak a bit tighter to protect his eyes from the sting of dry air which, when coupled with fast-moving motes of sand, felt like tiny vibroblades against his skin. After killing his speeder bike’s engine with a push of a button, he approached the ship to get a better look at it. What he saw made him wipe his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.
Nope. That was definitely the real deal: a transport shuttle with an insignia he hadn’t seen in months, but that was still all too familiar to him. It bore the symbol of Clan Plagueis. What was a Plagueian transport doing this far from Aliso — in what could be considered Arcona’s backyard? He suspected it was nothing good, and intended to uncover what it was the moment he found whoever sent the distress signal. Circling around to the rear of the ship, he saw that its entry ramp had already been deployed.
Aside from the visible signs of a crash landing — deep scratches and dents in its hull, damaged landing gear — the ship bore no signs of damage, which meant that the open ramp was likely the result of a survivor from its crew as opposed to scavengers looking to salvage whatever they could from the wreckage. Bril approached the ship cautiously and ventured inside.
The corridor was dark, only partially lit by the pulsing scarlet glow of a silent alarm and the yellow-orange sparks of damaged wires hanging precariously from the rafters above his head. He entered the cockpit and briefly looked over the two pilot droids slumped over the ship’s control panel. What had happened here?
“Only one way to find out,” Bril muttered to himself before reaching out with a gloved hand and touching the controls.
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A brilliant flash of white filled his vision. When it faded, he was once again standing in the ship’s cockpit. The lights shone overhead, and the two droids were back in working order with the flight controls in their mechanical hands.
*”Sir, we have detected elevated levels of electromagnetic radiation. Continuing on our present course will decrease our chances of failing to reach our destination by forty-five percent.”
A familiar voice echoed out from somewhere behind him.
“Don’t tell me what the karking percentages are, droid. Just do what you need us to do to get us there in one piece.”
Bril turned to see the wispy image of Hevan Slavis marching past him. Before he could probably register the revelation that it was Hevan who had crash landed here, he felt the ship shudder and lurch in a way that even a pilot as inexperienced as himself recognized as a sign that something was awry. The alarm that blared afterward confirmed it.
“What is that? What does it say?” asked Hevan in a demanding tone.
The droid responded in the same artificial tone it had before. “A sudden burst of electromagnetic radiation has damaged several of the shuttle’s electronic systems. We’ve lost control of one of the rear thrusters and the navicomputer has become uncalibrated.”
The second droid chimed in next. “We’ll need to conduct an emergency landing on the nearest planet.”*
When the Force echo ended and Bril came to, the first thing he sensed was the presence of someone else there in the ship with him. He whirled around to see none other than Hevan standing in the corridor, his face fading in and out with the flicker of the alarm light.
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Bril didn’t say a word. Nor did he have to move a finger to suddenly seize the Plagueian in the Force and hold him aloft while he exited the shuttle. Once they were outside, the young Zabrak held his former clansmen high in the air, exposing him to the beaming sun and another harsh gust of wind that rolled through .
“You know,” he began, “A fall from this height is enough to break both your legs. Or worse.” Bril’s words carried a confidence not born from arrogance like in their last encounter, but from his growth as a gray Jedi and, more recently, his settling into his new position of Starosta. “You’re a long way from home, Hevan. Tell me why and where you were headed before you crashed.”
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“I’ve had worse.” Hevan glanced down, then back up before he forced a smile while his arms struggled without success, pistol flailing, unable to point at Bril direclty.
“How about you put me down and then we can talk?” Hevan’s voice was barely audible over the sands, but Bril reluctantly lowered him, not quite to the ground, but held him a few meters up.
“Right. Now look down.” Bril looked, not seeing anything, but this distraction was all Hevan needed to be able to fire a shot from his pistol, just enough to break the Zabrak’s concentration, sending Hevan crashing to the floor in a heap.
“Woah woah woah there pointy head, no more ok?” Hevan held his blaster facing the sky, backing off slowly, not wishing to fight. “Besides, killing me would only serve to enrage Plagueis. TuQ would be pretty upset with you, killing his apprentice is kinda a big thing in case you didn’t know…”
Bril only shifted his gaze to the ground for a second, but that was all Hevan needed to get a shot off. Luckily, the Force warned him of the danger within a few short moments of him squeezing the trigger. The crack-hiss of a lightsaber sounded above the moan of passing wind as he ignited Concord and used its molten gold blade to effortlessly swat the blaster bolt aside.
A brief investigation of the Plagueian’s emotions through the Force confirmed that he was telling the truth; only then did Bril lower his saber, but he didn’t deactivate it just yet.
“I don’t kill people anymore,” he said plainly, “not unless I have no other choice.” The wind kicked up again, prompting Bril to gesture toward the rear of the ship before making his way over to it. Once he was under the cover of its metal frame, he spoke again. “What are you doing here, Hevan?”
“You would… duty is not always glorious, I know too well how stained hands get in the service of the clan.” Hevan seemed to become colder, more resigned to the dark duties he carries out.
“I don’t like to kill. But if duty so demands, I won’t hesitate. Duty is life and ends only when I have no more breaths to let upon this galaxy.” Hevan was obviously tired and weary of bloodshed, something Bril could tell even without use of the force.
“…I’m… I’m here for…” Hevan sighed, before steeling himself and answering, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m technically not even here, at least not officially. TuQ wanted…”
Bril couldn`t hear what he said, his voice becoming inaudible over the sound of sand and wind.
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Bril shook his head in response to Hevan’s insistence of him having to use lethal force if they came to blows. Since switching clans, he’d worked tirelessly to change his approach to combat, and that training was beginning to pay dividends these days. As it had with his brief capture of Hevan himself. The man’s talk of duty did resonate with Bril somewhat, although he considered his duty to be in service to the people of the Dajorra System and his family more than to the clan itself. He was fortunate to have joined it when he did and not in the periods where its leadership were more ostensibly dark in their dealings … more like Plagueis.
Bril cursed beneath his breath when the roar of the sweeping winds drowned out the sound of Hevan’s voice. It looked like they’d have to return to the crashed ship after all, at least until the storm died down. But as he began to move toward it, he felt something in the Force, prompting him to look westward, the same way he’d come from on his speeder bike. More than a dozen black silhouettes appeared on the horizon, shaking and dancing in the unyielding heat of the Jerijadorian desert. His eyes darted to the Plagueian standing across from him, whoever these people were, Bril could sense that they had nothing but malicious intentions. And with how quickly they were approaching, neither of them would have much time to decide what they wanted to do.
By the time Bril had turned to look back at Hevan, he was already lying prone aiming down his sights. Hevan adjusted the scope slightly, firing before Bril could object.
The pirates had broken formation as soon as the first shot killed one of them, another being killed by a second shot.
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Two of the raiders fell and Bril’s head snapped in Hevan’s direction.
“You don’t have to kill them!” he shouted, but he wasn’t able to say much more before the return fire from the approaching group forced him on the defensive.
He snatched Concord from his belt and ignited it so he could begin deflecting blaster bolts. Extending his hand toward Hevan in the midst of this, he used a Force pull to snatch the weapon from his hands, and then to shove him toward the ship’s rear hatch.
Hevan landed into a roll, then turned, running for his blaster.
Once there, he slung it over his shoulder and ran for cover, yelling at bril to follow. His years of training and honing his instincts kicked in, as he lay prone behind the ship. There was no other cover anywhere nearby, and Hevan knew they would have to fight it out, or run.
Bril heard Hevan’s call, and stepped toward him to take cover behind the ship, but the approaching bandits had other plans for him. The whisper of the Force became a shout when at least two of them took shots with their blasters, forcing Bril to raise his lightsaber in defense. After batting away a few bolts, he practically dove into the back of the ship only to turn and close the ramp with a timely telekinetic pull.
The roar of speeder bike engines grew louder.
“They’re probably going to surround the ship,” Bril said, “If we coordinate our attacks, we should be able to break through their lines. Get to my bike and you can steal one of yours, then we make our escape.”
“Sure I can’t kill them?” Hevan ran to a blaster scar, pressing his face out the small crack and staring frantically out.
“At least three. Nope, four. Nope, five. Nope si - nevermind thats the first one. Five. Thats it!” Hevan showed a grim smile, narrowing his eyes as he thought.
“No explosives?” Hevan knew the answer, he had searched the ship ages ago, but he hoped that maybe, just maybe there was something. “Any way of contacting anyone?”
“I’m sure,” he replied sharply, “but I do have an idea. Can you get a shot on one of their bike’s fuel tanks? The explosion would give us enough cover to get out of here.”
Hevan nodded slowly, gesturing as he did so for bril to take cover. He opened the door, taking cover behind the wall, raising his blaster. Shots impacted all around him, but he held steady.
A pull of the trigger. The resulting recoil. The familiar smell of the blaster gas. The dull thump that signified his shot. All resulting in a tremendous explosion, covering the nearby area in a cloud of sand as the shot expertly hit one of the exposed fuel tanks off the pirates.
As soon as he heard the roar of the explosion, Bril sprang into action by bounding toward the ship’s ramp. He used the Force to trigger the hydraulics so that by the time he reached it, it had already deployed enough for him to vault out into the sandy air.
“Move!”
There was no time to ensure that Hevan had acted on signal. He could always circle around to get him if he hadn’t, but he needed to reach his bike first. Motes of sand nipped at his exposed skin. His speeder bike had grown warm from sitting in the blazing sun. But he made it, and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw that Hevan had as well. Bril quickly activated it, hopped into the main seat, and took off, cranking the throttle to put as much distance between them and their assailants as he could as fast as he could.
“I hope you’re a good enough shot to keep them off of us while I drive!”
“Believe me, I am.” Hevan unholstered his pistol, turning to look behind them. He held the speeder with one hand, grasping with his legs, nearly falling off as Bril mad a tight turn. “Woah woah woah, pull over. I’m driving.”
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“I’m sorry, pull over?!” he asked, having to shout over the sound of wind rushing past them. “I’m sorry, did you want to ask them to stop shooting at us so we can change seats?”
Amidst their bickering, Bril heard the voice of the Force tell him to duck and he obeyed, narrowly avoiding a blaster bolt aimed at his head. The electronic whir of a speeder bike’s engine came from his right, but he couldn’t see them. But he could feel its driver in the Force, allowing him to activate his saber so he could fling it in that general direction. The sound of his saber’s blade shredding through the bike’s engine block came next. Then, a panicked shout, and the sound of a crash.
From his vantage point, Hevan could see a group of pirates in a large landspeeder gaining on them.
Hevan mumbled a curse as it gained on them. He lifted his pistol, aiming as well as he could, but never could get a clear shot. “Stop the bike. On my word shut down the engine, let them get closer.”
Bril sucked his teeth for a moment, but his instincts (or perhaps the Force) told him that he could trust Hevan in this. He slowed the speeder to a stop and whipped it around so its broadside was facing the approaching landspeeder.
Hevan prepared as they drew closer, knowing he could well die doing this. Now or never he thought, closing his eyes for a second before jumping.
He hit the speeder, landing on its side. His hands flew out and grabbed a rope, of which he used to pull himself up onto the back. The pilots shouted, inaudible above the wind, one pulling a blaster pistol out.
He never got the chance to fire. Hevan shot him, a clean single shot through the head. He other, Hevan grabbed and slammed his head against the metal frame of the windshield, causing the speeder to swerve as the pilot was slowly knocked out.
Hevan crawled up, grabbing hold of the wheel with one hand, wrapping his arm around the pirates neck with the other, slowly bringing the speeder back on course.
Once Hevan took control of the landspeeder, Bril gestured for him to follow before turning to accelerate in the same direction they traveled in initially. Zipping across the arid landscape for what seemed like ages, the two of them eventually found a large cave nestled within a nearby valley. After ditching the speeders somewhere as so as not to leave any signs of where they went, the two of them made their way into the cave structure.
“We can wait out the sandstorm here,” Bril said as they walked, raising his lightsaber in front of them so its glow could illuminate their surroundings.
“I’ll take first watch.” Hevan called back to Bril as he walked and lay down near the cave entrance. He placed his helmet on, laying down his scout pack as he did so, taking a rag from it and covering his mouth.
Gesturing at Bril, he pulled a camouflaged net and started pinning it to the cave walls.
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Things were quiet for a long time. It appeared they had lost the bandits in the valley, but the sandstorm didn’t abate. In fact, it grew more intense as time passed.
“We’re going to have to move deeper into the cave system,” announced Bril while tapping at the screen of one of his vambraces. He tried to get a message out to the crew of his ship, but he couldn’t get through. “It looks like it’s creating interference as well. I can’t get a transmission through to the Nighthawk.”
“Nighthawk?” Hevan had just lay down, clearly annoyed by Bril wanting to move now. He sighed, rolling over and feeling blindly for his pack. “Ok, but don’t move to fast, we don’t know what’s down here. Trust me, there are… things… on this planet.”
“My team’s flagship,” he replied matter-of-factly, “The good news is that I told them to come looking for me if I stopped pinging my location at regular intervals. So, we have that to fall back on, at least.”
Hopefully the weather conditions abated by the time they came looking, otherwise being found would be more difficult.
“Things?” he said in a suspicious way, “What kind of things?”
“Uhhh… good question. I’ve only heard the howls in the night, but they sound nasty. Knowing my luck though, we’re gonna run into one and I bet you it’s tiny and wouldn’t hurt a loth cat.” Hevan laughed at his joke, but obviously worried. He gripped his blaster a bit tighter, his head swiveled at the slightest noise.
Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. Hevan’s eyes darted across the walls, the floor to the ceiling. Mouthing something, he gestured at Bril to be quiet and to follow him.
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Bril’s eyes shot to the ceiling just as quickly as Hevan’s had. Motes of life, more than he cared to count, appeared within the Force … but he saw nothing. Lurking within the shadows above their heads were some kind of creatures whose minds projected only one feeling through the Force: hunger.
Hevan silently moved through the cave, back against the wall. Silently, he raised his hand and signalled to advance.
He slung his rifle over his shoulder, pulling his sidearm and holding it steady. Suddenly, he halted dead in his tracks, motioning to get down.
Bril did as instructed, keeping low to the ground and the wall of the cave as they crept away from the cave’s mouth. But one wrong step was all it took; when Bril heard the crunch of something beneath his foot, he cursed himself silently. A terrible sound – something between a shriek and a howl – blared from above their heads. Snapping his head in that direction to see what it was, he saw countless n slender canidesque forms with matted, rough-looking coats and toes like talons raced down the cave wall in their direction.
“Move!” shouted Bril. His instincts kicked in and he threw his hand outward to fling as many of them backward as he could with the Force. That would buy them some time, but not much. He turned and raced forward deeper into the cave.
Hevan didn’t move. He stood perfectly still, waiting, blade ready. His pistol held steady, he held his position with baited breath.
“Don’t run. They’re blind.” Hevan promptly shut his mouth as a scuttling sound was heard by his legs.
Blind as they may be, the pitiless creatures possessed many senses that told them something was awry … that their domain had been trespassed. Even as the two men dedicated their concentration to remaining utterly silent, the creatures raced toward them, crashing against the cave floor and continuing their pursuit like a dreadful wave of gnashing teeth and jagged claws.
Bril wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Grabbing Hevan by the collar and giving him a firm tug to pull him along, he used another, stronger Force push to push them back again. The invisible wall of force slammed into countless stygian forms, eliciting a dreadful cry from those it struck, but it would only provide them with a temporary respite from their fiendish assailants.
When Bril turned around again, he noticed Hevan sprinting toward one spot in particular. Had he found another passageway? Seeing the man disappear into another sub-cave confirmed it.
The creatures drew nearer. Bril could practically feel their breaths against his neck as he dove feet first into the descending path. A closed fist softened and collapsed the mouth of the cave wall to ensure their escape, but it also meant that the only direction to go was forward.
A small click echoed through the cave, then it was filled with a golden light. Hevan stood in the center of the small cavern they had entered, looking around. He gestured, holding a small stick from where the light emitted. A cable dangled, connected to his pack, and Hevan wrapped the loose cable around his shoulder.
“Let’s go. Quickly. These caves are all connected.” Hevan’s voice echoed around the cavern. “Let’s hope that there’s an exit.”
“If not, I can always try to create one,” he commented, while setting down the path.
“Good luck doing that without sand drowning us” Hevan muttered under his breath. The pair walked in silence for what felt like hours, twisting, turning, eventually coming to a dead end. Hevan was sure that they had been going up slowly, feeling the rock. It was warm. “Well frack this. I’d rather die than walk back, try open it up.”