A New Player in the Force

Bo-Katan POV

…

She leaned back, avoiding the strange weapon these aliens used as it whipped around toward her. The snake-like head hissed as it passed by, a glob of venom being spat out and missing her shoulder by millimetres. While her scanners said her armour could take the hit, it was wiser to avoid the risk.

The snake-head of the alien’s weapon twisted, likely to shoot another glob of whatever it was at her. However, Bo-Katan was having none of that. As the mouth opened, flames leapt from her gauntlet, engulfing the snake in fire. While there was no outward indication of damage to the snake when the flames died, Bo-Katan’s sensors recorded damage internally. Even as her sensors recorded that, she unloaded a trio of bolts from her blaster into the stomach of her foe. While they left scorch marks on whatever served as armour, that was all the damage they caused. Well, besides irritating the alien.

She was sent tumbling as its free hand, moving in a frightening blur, slammed into the side of her head. Her jetpack auto-engaged to help right her motion, and then, once her knees had set on the ground, another burst of power from the pack launched her back toward her opponent. She slammed into it hard, the jetpack giving her extra momentum to lift the thing off its legs, but even as she gained that small advantage, her armour warned her the snake-staff was wrapping itself around her leg.

When it yanked on her leg, it caused her to lose control of her momentum, and both she and the alien slammed into the ground hard and then bounced apart with Bo-Katan barely avoiding landing on an exposed root from a nearby tree.

“Shabuir.” The curse slipped from her lips as she pulled herself to her feet and discovered the alien had done the same, but faster. Her scanners had already hinted at the aliens being faster, and the rattling of her skull even inside her armour let her know they were stronger than most beings. She felt a smile spread across her face at the challenge; every Mandalorian lived for moments like this.

As she readied herself for the rapidly closing alien, her blood sang in joy at fighting a worthy opponent. She’d been denied the chance with the taozin, and the months of travelling to and being on this planet had been a bore, save for Cam. Now at least, she had something besides him to focus on and excite her.

Yet before it could reach her, she felt the air shift. A coldness seeped through the air and chilled her to her bones as it felt like the gravity magnified to that of a gas giant's core. Which was odd as her sensors showed no change in atmospheric pressure, either in or outside of her armour.

From one corner of her sensors, blackness raced outward. A moment later, it struck the alien only a metre from her, sending the ugly shabuir flying. Remembering where she’d last seen such a thing, all thoughts of her opponent forgotten for the moment, her head snapped toward Cam, though they stopped midway as she saw something between them. On the ground, blood rapidly pooling around her, with an alien standing over, was Fay. Even without the sensor package in her armour, Bo-Katan could tell that the ancient Jedi Master was badly wounded and would likely die without rapid treatment. Which explained why Cam seemed to have stopped holding back.

The alien standing over Fay though wasn’t going for the kill. Instead, according to her sensors, it appeared to be flickering in and out of perception as malevolent darkness danced around it. The alien’s mouth was open, yet no sound slid out.

She saw Cam as he moved, so fast her sensors struggled to track, the darkness rippling around him. He collided with the alien standing over Fay so violently it was smashed through a nearby tree. Yet before she could move to assist, the alien near her pulled itself to its feet.

Its movement was sluggish, as was that of its strange organic weapon, suggesting the Force attack Cam had struck it with had done serious damage and still was as wisps of the black energy sparked over its body. While part of her was angered that Cam had weakened her opponent, she understood he’d not done so intentionally. Plus, one never looked a gift bantha in the mouth.

She raced toward it, her jetpack granting her extra speed as her blaster unloaded. While the shots weren’t doing a large amount of damage, they were forcing it to defend. The snake-staff flexed, readying itself to fire a glob of venom at her. She’d expected that and rolled in mid-air, letting the glob sail harmlessly past her, and shot past the alien, feeling her non-blaster hand brush against its waist.

Once clear on the other side, she turned in the air and landed facing the alien as it snarled at her. Once her eyes locked on it, she pressed a button on her vambrace. A single bleep was the only warning the alien got before the thermal detonator – the only one she’d had on her due to the locals’ insane rules of weaponry – exploded, obliterating the alien and its bizarre weapon.

With that threat neutralised, she raced over to Fay and as she moved, took in the overall fight. Zarkos and Simvyl were holding their position near the downed transport, using it as cover as they held off three aliens. Two more aliens were pinned down, one under a tree not too far from Fay with the other partially impaled by the door from the transport. Given the methods, it was easy to tell which Jetii had trapped each alien.

In the bushes, her sensors saw Fenrir snarling as he wrestled with the alien’s odd-looking beast. Fenrir had several scratches on his side along with one of his spinal spikes missing, yet the other beast looked in worse shape. One eye was gone, having been lost to a slash from Fenrir’s claws, while its right rear leg was struggling to keep it upright.

As for Cam…

She spotted him just as another burst of black energy poured from the fingertips of his free hand, engulfing two of the aliens that were engaged with the Rangers while his blade danced against the chest of another alien. That one had to be a leader as, unlike the others, it wore an odd-looking shell over its body that was able to survive the flurry of strikes from Cam’s blade.

Bo-Katan slid to a stop beside Fay even as she realised the alien that had wounded the Jetii Master was now nothing more than a smoking pile of flesh no longer for the living world. Bo-Katan pushed aside the surge of excitement she felt at realising what Cam had done as she examined Fay.

The wound was through and through with no hint that it’d left shards inside Fay. Plus, the blow hadn’t been to a critical area, though that was only due to Fay’s Sephi biology. For a human, that strike would’ve ruptured a kidney leading to a very quick death. Putting aside thoughts that these aliens knew the best way to kill humans and the unknown poison in Fay’s bloodstream, she got to work. A handful of bacta patches were applied to both entry and exit points while she gave the Jetii an injection that should help stabilise her heart rate.

“How is she?” The question came from Zarkos as the Togrutan slid down beside her, his blaster firing at a nearby enemy to keep them suppressed.

“Bad.” Until now, Bo-Katan hadn’t known what to make of the Rangers. She knew of them, and their stated aim to work with the Jetii to keep the galaxy safe, but she’d never dealt with any of them before. Plus, one of them was a Cathar who still held resentment toward her people for actions taken millennia ago. The dumb beast needed to let go of that as it wasn’t her fault his species had been too weak to stand against her ancestors. Still, the pair of them were fighting beside her and Cam, and as her father had loved to say, you could only judge a being by how they fight when the time comes to do so. “We need to get her to cover.”

Zarkos took a moment to look at Fay. “I’ll move her, you cover.” Bo-Katan was fine with that. While the Togrutan was older, she had better armour and firepower. To not use her to the best of her abilities was a waste of resources.

As Zarkos holstered his blaster, she turned, drawing hers and seeking out targets. The familiar sound of the twin WESTAR-34 blasters filled her ears as they unloaded their fury on the nearest alien. While the alien was able to avoid most of it, when combined with the Cathar’s fire, it was enough to keep them pinned down. Which would do for now.

As they moved, she heard a triumphant howl, which she hoped meant Fenrir had won his battle. Her hopes were confirmed when Fenrir leapt from the bushes and slammed hard into the side of an enemy trying to attack Cam from behind. According to Fay, Fenrir still had a lot of growth to do – which was an exciting thought to Bo even if Fay didn’t entirely agree – but he still had enough strength and mass to send the alien he’d struck into a tree, making leaves fall around them and the trunk crack.

“Fenrir! Here!” She called out in hope, as while the tuk’ata did sometimes obey her, it was always reluctant. That meant when, after biting the downed alien hard enough that his teeth drew black ichor from the alien as he ripped out its throat, he raced over to her, she was caught by surprise.

Beside her, as he carried Fay, she heard Zarkos mutter something, likely about Fenrir, which was only made worse she suspected as the beast raced toward them, blood dripping from its maw. Yet while the Togrutan was seemingly put off by the violence, Bo-Katan revelled in it. Fenrir was deadly now, and would only become more so as he grew, making him a worthy companion for Cam.

Once he reached them, Fenrir dropped the chunk of throat to the ground and looked up at her. “Having fun?” Fenrir flicked his head in an approximation of a nod – or at least that’s how Bo-Katan saw it – as he exposed his teeth; the black blood of the aliens stained them and made him even more intimidating. That was accompanied by a growl that sounded satisfied. “Good, but we need help. Fay’s down and we need to keep her safe.” Fenrir looked at Fay, who Bo-Katan knew he’d never been comfortable around, then over to Cam. She did likewise and was in time to see Cam, in a particularly effective move, jam his lightsaber blade into the mouth of a snake-staff while he hurled rocks with the Force into the face of the staff’s wielder. The rocks weren’t massive, but their supersonic velocity – according to her sensors – was enough to explode the head like it was nothing more than a melon.

Her body shivered at the scene, but she forced the feelings aside. It wasn’t the time nor place to act on them. “He can handle himself. We need to keep Fay safe.” She spoke again to Fenrir even as she examined the readings from her sensors. A spinal spike was gone, though the blood flow from the wound was already slowing. Yet, apart from that and a dozen or so scratches and bite marks over his hide, he appeared no worse for wear. Plus, the way he carried himself made it clear to her that he was proud of his first kill in battle, something she understood and agreed with.

Fenrir moved forward, toward the transport, which Bo-Katan took as him agreeing to her request. “What are these things?”

Bo-Katan was glad her armour was on so that the Cathar couldn’t see her roll her eyes at his jare’la question even as Zarkos lowered Fay to the ground. “The enemy.” That was all that mattered. These beings had attacked them and wounded Fay. Now they would die for their foolishness. If the Cathar didn’t understand that then it was a miracle of galactic proportions his species had recovered after her people had decimated their world.

The Cathar glared at her for her retort, but she didn’t give it much thought. What was he going to do? Die to a Mandalorian weapon like his forebearers?

A glob of venom struck the side of the transport, doing some damage to the already weakened frame of the downed vessel. In response, Bo-Katan leaned out and fired off a small rocket from her vambrace. The alien leapt forward in a roll to avoid the rocket but its speed was just barely enough to avoid the shrapnel from the tree, her sensors pegging it in the smoke it was using for camouflage using body heat.

Bo-Katan lined up a second rocket as the alien slid to a halt. It’d taken cover behind a boulder to recover, but that wasn’t going to stop her from sending the soulless thing to the deepest pit of whatever hell it believed in. Yet before she could launch the rocket, a blurred movement caught the attention of her sensors.

Cam surged into view, and barely ten seconds later, moved off, the alien now lay dead on the ground. The boulder it’d used for cover had moved, crushing the snake-staff of the alien whose arms and part of its skull were lying beside its body.

A thrill raced through her body as she took in the chaos Cam had unleashed in only a handful of seconds, and after taking cover behind the transport, she pulled up and slowed down her helmet’s sensor recordings.

In the time it’d taken for Cam to enter the dust cloud and leave it, he’d simply overwhelmed the alien. There were gaps in her sensors, showing just how fast he’d moved, but each time his lightsaber had clipped the alien, the heat burst was tracked. Over two dozen strikes had dotted the alien’s body and weapon before first one arm, then the other, were removed by a single elegant backstroke to its elbows. Then, before the snake-staff could realise that the hand holding it wasn’t attached to the body, Cam had pushed the boulder over, crushing the living weapon under the heavy rock. At the same time, Cam's blade had moved around in a measured flourish, thrust through the alien’s right eye the sliced up through the top of the head – and brain within – splitting it as if it was an overripe meiloorun fruit.

Bo-Katan ignored the way her heart raced at seeing Cam eviscerate one of the aliens in the playback, and the heat growing in her lower regions. There was still a battle to win no matter how her blood burned from what she’d just seen. And once they were off this world, she’d make sure to send the recording to her father. He needed to see this. Every Mando’ade needed to see the Revan’ade unleashed. Though she was glad the faint moan that’d slipped from her lips as she watched Cam’s handiwork wasn’t in the recording.

“Spirits.”

Zarkos’ muttered comment, likely from seeing the remains of the alien as the dust cleared, drew Bo-Katan’s attention back to the here and now. Cam was engaging the aliens’ leader while the only other one that was mobile was pinned down by the combined fire of the two Rangers. Her sensors easily located the alien’s hiding spot, and then with a few quick commands calculated a few scenarios. With that done, her jetpack roared to life.

The moment she could see over the top of the transport, her vambrace released three missiles in quick succession. As she’d expected and planned for, the alien moved to avoid the first. It also managed to escape the blast of the second, and the third, however, stuck it clean in the chest. The resulting explosion, combined with the still-travelling shockwaves of the first two rockets, turned the alien into not much more than mush that stained the ground black.

With that alien and its staff neutralized, Bo turned in mid-air, wanting to provide support to Cam. As she did, a glob of venom crashed harmlessly against her armour. The armour’s sensors confirmed that while the glob would’ve been dangerous to any with low-quality or no armour, against beskar, it wasn’t a threat, not unless she took a hundred-plus strikes in the same area in a short period.

Knowing the venom wasn’t a problem, she quickly found Cam. He was engaged with the alien leader. This alien wore something approaching decent armour and was stronger and quicker than the others. Yet even as it moved at a speed that would challenge Bo to keep up with when using her armour’s advantages, it was struggling to block and evade more than half of Cam’s furious barrage of attacks. Haran, once more her armour was struggling to track Cam’s movements, something that had only happened against the Bando Gora after his rescue.

Bo-Katan knew this meant Cam was drawing on the Dark Side of the Force, fuelling it with his rage, as he’d done against… Vosa. She recoiled a fraction as she caught sight of his eyes. Gone was the vibrant green that she often found herself getting lost in, being replaced by the red of a star about to go supernova. Almost as if the fury he was drawing on was burning him from the inside out.

The alien leader was fighting valiantly and even managed to land a glancing blow on Cam’s forearm. However, that failed to do any damage as Cam used the attack to slide his blade inside the alien’s guard and land a flurry of slashes near the inner part of the alien’s elbow: Where most armours were traditionally weaker. The snake-staff softened and twisted, looking to wrap around Cam’s arm, but he slid one foot with a grace Bo had seldom seen from any bar him or his Jetii Masters to avoid the snake. At the same time, Cam’s lightsaber moved fast enough that her armour registered at least four strikes against the alien’s leg near the knee before he slashed the tip of the blade across the face of the snake.

Both combatants and Bo-Katan knew this duel would end soon, but she could give the alien its due. Even though it was outmatched and overwhelmed, it continued to fight. As any true warrior would when faced with no option of withdrawal.

Yet, as the snake-staff snapped back from Cam’s attack, and it looked like Cam would soon end the duel, another snake-staff had slithered over. It wrapped around his foot and threatened to bite down, injecting Cam with the same venom Bo knew was coursing through Fay’s veins. Before it could, Cam thrust a hand downward, black, malevolent Force lightning slamming into the open maw of the snake.

As the snake screeched in pain, and Cam landed a trio of quick thrusts against the alien leader, Bo-Katan pondered on why Cam’s lightning was black. The records she’d seen mentioned and showed Force users using blue and purple lightning. There were even a few unverified accounts of red Force Lightning, yet she couldn’t remember a single instance of even a hint of black lightning. Still, as the snake-staff getting pounded by Cam’s Force attack went rigid as the energy pouring into it overloaded whatever allowed the weapon to live, she realised that might be that none who’d encountered such lightning had lived to tell the tale.

Yet as the snake-staff breathed its last breath, the alien leader launched a counterattack. His staff swung around, catching Cam in the arm that was barbequing the snake-staff at his feet. The blow was a solid one, forcing Cam to end the flood of energy into the snake-staff, but Cam used it to rotate away from a follow-up attack by the alien leader. Cam dropped low and pivoted, the rigid form of the leader’s staff passing close but harmlessly by Cam as he generated some space between them.

The snake-staff on the ground hissed weakly at Cam. Before it could do anything more, Cam thrust his shorter lightsaber into the beast’s maw, then flicked it up, cutting the skull in two. Bo-Katan frowned even as Cam removed the shorter lightsaber, smoke rising from the blade where it met the hilt. She thought Cam had left that back on the Ne’tra Sartr. Haran, she was all but sure he’d not had it on his belt at the beginning of the battle, so where had he hidden it?

Before she could truly think about it, the alien leader stepped forward, its weapon in a staff configuration. Cam blocked the attack with ease with his main blade even as the secondary one fell from his grip, smoke still rising from the hilt making Bo wonder if the snake’s venom had damaged it.

Cam brought his now free hand up in a brutal palm strike. Darkness spilt out, engulfing the alien in lightning. Even from this distance, Bo swore she could feel the twisted, sinister nature of the lightning as it raced to cover the alien’s frame even as it was sent hurtling back. It slammed into a tree, which instantly set ablaze as the lightning raced over the bark and leaves. The trail of power led back to Cam, his hand still where it was when it had struck the alien. Bo-Katan knew what he was doing was inflicting pain for revenge, possibly even for fun, yet she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but savour the moment. Cam pulled his arm back and then thrust it forward, increasing the streams of energy flowing into the alien and Bo-Katan felt pain in her lip.

The alien was lifted up the burning tree, its eyes wide and mouth open. Yet no sound spilt out. Though that might’ve been because the lightning, as if feeding off Cam’s rage, slammed into the mouth and eyes. Smoke rose from the mouth even as the eyeballs exploded as they offered no resistance to the energy surge that continued inward to fry the brain.

Bo-Katan knew the alien was dead, even before that final surge of power, with the only movements from the body being spasms as whatever it had for nerves reacted to the foreign energy coursing through the lifeless body. Below her, she heard someone gag. More than likely it was the Cathar. They were a weak people. Yet her focus stayed on Cam, on watching him announce to the galaxy that he had the power; that he was a threat to any who dared cross him.

This was the power of the Revan’ade.

Tremors rippled through her as she watched the alien’s flesh turn the colour of its blood. Her skin tingled as armour hardened and began to break off, falling in a pile on the ground. Some part of her knew she needed to stop this, needed to get Cam under control and get away from this battle before more aliens arrived. Yet as she landed and started to move toward Cam, her heart pounded with delight and desire. This was a Mando’ade worthy of her.

When she was about halfway to Cam, he ended the energy pouring into the body. It slumped to the ground, limbs cracking as they landed even as what remained of the tree behind continued to burn. The alien, now burnt to a point it was hard to tell what species it had been, was no longer impressive. No longer a worthy opponent. Not that it ever was for Cam.

She stopped mid-step as he turned to face her. His eyes burned with the fury of a hundred stars going supernova. Something moved near her, she felt movement against her arm, but her focus was on the danger, the power in front of her. She took a step forward, drawn to the fire like a moth to a flame.

A beep from her sensors forced her unwillingly from the furnace in front of her. An alien was still alive. The one missing a leg at the knee. She turned to face it, but Cam was already aware. His hand rose, and blackness surged forth and enveloped the alien. The ground burned for a second before it was dead. The alien’s vitals spiked, it spasmed as spikes of darkness pulled back and then stabbed into its flesh.

Cam closed his hand, the body slumped to the ground. Its back rose as it drew in air. Cam unleashed another blast of lightning at it. Bo-Katan’s body fought with itself. What Cam was doing was a waste. They needed to leave. Yet she was enjoying watching his power in action.

Behind her, she heard sounds. The Rangers. She shook her head. They needed to go, needed to help Fay, but Cam was lost in his rage over what had happened to her. Even as part of Bo-Katan wondered if he’d react the same way if she’d been the one who’d gotten hurt, she knew she needed to end this. There’d been three other ships that had been with the one carrying these aliens. They’d come looking when this lot didn’t, couldn’t, report in.

In the time it took her to reach Cam’s side, he’d kept pouring energy into the dead alien.

“Cam, tha…” the words died before they touched her throat as his head snapped to her. The fury of an entire galaxy as it raged in death burned into her soul through his eyes. Judging her. Deciding her fate.

For the first time in her life, Bo-Katan felt true, unrelenting terror. Nothing else compared. Not how she’d felt on her verd’goten, not when her mother had died, nor the waiting until her brother was pulled from the rubble could come close to the fear gripping every nerve in her body. She was prey before a true apex predator, and Manda help her, it excited her.

This Cam… this was the one her father had wanted. The one with the power of Naast be Me'suums. The ability to shatter worlds with but a word. Yet through it all, even as her body fought the conflicting terror and excitement that threatened to break her mind, she sensed his hurt. Felt his pain. A single misstep and that was it. She’d be gone. The Rangers and Fay would be gone. The entire world would burn as he lost control of his rage.

He took a step toward her, black, perverse energy dancing around his free hand. She braced even when she knew it would do nothing to save her. The air inside her armor grew cold, restrictive. Beskar was said to be able to survive Force Lightning if properly insulated, yet she knew that if Cam struck her with his, she was gone.

Something large and dark stepped between them. She blinked as Fenrir cut into her eye line, breaking her hypnotic fall into Cam’s eyes.

The tuk’ata moved toward Cam, a soft growl rumbling from his belly. It pushed against Cam’s arm, the one holding his lightsaber. That made Cam blink, the redness of his eyes dulling. “F-Fenrir?” The question was weak, coarse as if he’d not drunk in a week. Fenrir patted his head against Cam’s arm, somehow making him look back at her.

She watched as he blinked again, more of the red fury sliding away and allowing the green to return. Yet even as the colouration of his eyes returned to normal, she felt something was still missing. Some joy or wonder at life had been extinguished by what had just happened. An urge to find more aliens, to kill them brutally for taking away part of him, bubbled forth within her. “Bo?” A single word, the simple almost pleading use of her name squashed that urge. Replacing it with something else.

Slowly, not wanting to risk his anger returning, she lifted her hands to her helmet. With over a decade of practice, she removed it with ease, letting her eyes fall on his without anything between them. Confusion reigned in his, along with hints of the rage he’d displayed and grief. Almost as if he wasn’t sure where or who he was. “It’s me, Cam.” Her words were soft, a tone she’d not used in years for any but her nephew before his death. “W-we need to get going.” She glanced at the nearest alien body, her nose wrinkling at the charred smell. “I know you want to keep hurting them, I understand. But Fay… she needs your help.”

At that, his eyes left her and sought out his Jetii Master. A blade of anger at him discarding her for Fay stabbed her heart, along with a dagger of pain at him so easily turning away from her. “We need to get her to the Sartr.” Provided it was still in one piece, though she didn’t mention that. “More of the aliens will be here soon and she can’t defend herself.”

Cam nodded slowly, as if in two minds about something. He turned back and glared at the alien leader. Or at least what was left of them. “Vong.”

Bo-Katan frowned. “What?” She’d never heard that word before and unless the sounds coming from the aliens had been too faint for her sensors to pick up – possible but unlikely – then where could he have heard it?

He looked at her and blinked, almost as if, for a moment, he’d forgotten she was there.

“It’s what they’re called.” He explained as he returned his gaze to the charred body of the alien. He didn’t explain how he knew, but she’d been around him long enough to know he could be like that. Knowing a name or something about a person just by looking at them. It had to be some sort of Force ability that Jetii didn’t speak about as it was so common to them that it never occurred that others couldn’t use it.

“Okay.” She slid her helmet back on even as her mind played the moment Cam had pulled his second lightsaber from somewhere. She’d have to review the recording from before the battle to be sure, but this felt like another instance where he was drawing objects from somewhere she couldn’t find. Much like how he’d turned one thermal detonator into five in the depths of Coruscant. She trusted him, but his keeping secrets rankled her. After everything they’d been through, everything she’d risked for him, why was he hiding things from her?

Cam walked past, giving her a weak smile as he did. That alone broke her from those thoughts. Fenrir followed behind, though he stopped at her side. She turned to see Cam moving quickly toward Fay and the Rangers. A faint sound slipped from Fenrir’s maw, and Bo rested a hand on the beast’s neck, making sure to avoid the fresh wound. “Aye, he’s going to need us on this.” Fenrir leaned into her touch, bringing a smile to her lips. The tuk’ata disliked everyone else, save young Anakin Skywalker, yet it accepted her enough to listen to her. It felt she was one of its pack, and perhaps, once they had time, she’d see about getting Cam to realise that as well. “Come on. While he checks on Fay, we’d better check their ship. No point missing one of those osi’kovide and letting it sneak away.”

Fenrir snorted at that, and she felt a rumble in his flesh making her think he was laughing. She knew assigning human emotions to beasts wasn’t smart, but Fenrir was far more than any simple beast. He was bred to fight and kill Jetii, as her people had done for millennia. In him, she felt a bond for battle, one that Cam shared, even if he didn’t yet embrace it.

Though hopefully, he would before they left this world. In her bones, she knew this battle was just the start. These Vong might’ve started this war, but Manda, she, Cam, and Fenrir were going to end it. Littering the way with the bodies of the di’kute dumb enough to stand in their way.

… …

… …

I looked at my minimap as we walked, something I’d done every few minutes since our battle with the Vong. As with every glance before, no hint of the null-zones left by the Vong were showing up. Which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing as I was concerned that I’d fall back into a mind-consuming rage if I saw one soon and a curse as, because of how heavily I’d wrecked the ones we’d engaged, we had almost nothing to go on about the species bar the scans taken by Bo’s armour.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true as, once I’d regained control of myself and stopped drawing on the Dark Side, a new quest had appeared.

Invaders from the Void [֍]

The peaceful, critical world of Zonama Sekot is under threat.

Rating: S*

Objectives:

:a: Ensure the survival of all members of your group, including the Antarian Rangers for the length of the quest.

:b: Protect the planet from the Vong by either driving the Vong from the planet,

Or eliminating the entire occupation force.

Rewards:

:a: 1000XP per being that survived [-/7]

:b: 8000XP

Or 12000XP

+ Combat XP

Failure:

:a: Death of everyone close to you on Zonama Sekot.

:b: The Vong gain Zonama Sekot as a beachhead into the Republic.

Accelerate the timeline of their invasion by up to 50 cycles.

...

Everything about that quest screamed how important it was. From the rating, to the objectives, the rewards and failures if I fucked this up. And to be clear, this wasn’t a quest I’d been allowed to reject. That meant the odds of finding the Ne’tra Sartr in a condition to withdraw from the planet were practically zero. And had me concerned about HK’s fate, along with all the gear I had stored on my ship. Something made worse as I felt HK wasn’t one of the seven that I needed to protect.

The rewards were obviously impressive as this was my first S-rated combat quest – if you discounted Tremors of the Ancient Sith Empire – and then there was the combat XP, which was interesting. Even after party dynamics came into play, just for taking out eight Vong I’d gotten north of 900XP. Since the average sentient gave around 10XP per level, either the base Vong was at level 30, which was highly unlikely, or they were worth more per level; possibly up to twice that of most sentients. I was inclined to believe it was the latter as the Vong were stronger and faster at a base than, possibly, any species I’d encountered. While I didn’t allow myself to be driven by reaching new levels as much as I’d used to, as learning that there was more to the Force than simply ‘maxing out’ a power, level 28 would grant me a new perk. If I succeeded in driving the Vong from the world, and kept everyone alive, at a rough estimate, we’d need to kill around fifty or so Vong to reach that milestone.

Yet even if that wasn’t something to consider, or allow to factor into my future decisions, the fact that failure meant a sooner invasion of the Republic by an alien race no one seemed to know about was stuck in my thoughts. Fifty years from now, in the canon timeline, would be long after Return of the Jedi. That had me wondering if Sidious, after discovering the threat of the Vong, had built the Death Stars because of that threat. While it was unlikely, the idea that he felt he needed stations capable of destroying entire planets to potentially take on a Vong invasion fleet was… well fucking scary didn’t even cover one per cent of the danger.

I turned my thoughts from the quest and the Vong as I felt the now ever-present pool of fury within me begin to boil. In the hours after the battle, I’d had to use Player’s Mind to keep a lid on that rage, but now, a few days later, I’d reached a point where I could contain it. But I wasn’t willing to release it.

On Tatooine, I’d touched the furthest edges of the power the Dark Side offered, and against the Bando Gora, I drew on that to keep myself going. Here, on this world that radiated the Force everywhere, from the smallest blade of grass to trees that put redwoods to shame, I’d not only drawn on it when Fay had fallen, I’d drank deeply from the ocean before then leaping into it with open arms.

I understood now, possibly better than I think many Jedi did, just how dangerous it was. How easy it could be to accept it into you, let it whisper of how to use it and take control of it, bending it and the world to your will. Yet, with the danger that the Vong posed, I couldn’t risk letting go of that power. Until I’d lost control, even as I pushed my Force powers to their system-defined limits, I’d been struggling to handle two Vong. After drinking in the Dark Side… well, the aftermath looked like the Vong had picked a fight with a thunderstorm, which given my liberal use of Force Lightning, wasn’t too far from the truth.

Before I could dwell on my actions, I felt the faintest of shifts in the Force to my left. Looking down, I saw Fay resting on a hovercart I and Zarkos had hastily fashioned from the wreckage of the transport. I knew, both from feeling it within the Force and using Observe, that she was in a deep meditative trace to conserve her strength as she fought against the Vong’s poison. Said poison was, unsurprisingly, not one known to the database in Bo’s armour, nor one on which Force Heal could do anything to help as I simply wasn’t skilled in the power as much as needed. Now, I’d always understood that a battlefield medic was useful, but I’d spent year focusing on more offensive powers over it, though even then, I’d never felt the connection to the healing elements of the Force that I was told Jedi Healers held. Still, from using Observe on Fay every few hours, I knew the poison didn’t appear to be spreading, which left Fay reminding me of Sleeping Beauty.

The idea of adapting that story, and the other Disney/Grimm fairy tales for this galaxy had served as a welcome distraction for a short while. They’d work, and while they likely wouldn’t generate anywhere near as much as the Lord of the Rings trilogy had – to say nothing of how much I’d hopefully earn once the first holomovie was completed – there was nothing in the story that I could be concerned about the Sith, or others, adapting to create new horrors for the galaxy. Like the Spartan program in Halo.

A soft grumble drew my attention to Fenrir. He was walking on the other side of Fay’s hovercart, which was where he always was when he wasn’t off on patrol. It was a little odd. I knew he wasn’t friendly toward her, or anyone bar Bo and Anakin, but I’d sensed over our bond that he regarded her as part of our ‘pack’. As my eyes looked him over, they once more lingered on the missing spinal spike. The wound had healed quickly once a bacta patch had been applied and while it seemed to give him phantom itching, he didn’t mind. From what I’d felt – and Observed – he was frustrated at losing the spike, but that was easily outweighed by the fact he’d fought and killed in battle for the first time. If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect he regarded the wound as a mark of his prowess. Though I’d prefer if the next time we encountered the Vong and one of their beasts he could defeat it without such an obvious wound.

In front of the hovercart walked Zarkos. The Togrutan was all business with blaster in his hand as his eyes continually scanned the bushes near us. I’d expected him to try to assume command of our group after the battle, but instead, he’d deferred to me, which felt odd until he explained his logic. The Rangers were there to help and assist the Jedi, meaning they would follow the orders of any member of the Order, even a Padawan. Though I’d made sure to consult him on making this trek before we’d set out. While I was in charge, turning away experienced help was always a mistake.

Simvyl, who was currently acting as the forward scout due to his race’s inherent advantages in doing so, hadn’t been happy about Zarkos’ acquiescence to my command. At first, I’d thought that was due to him not liking Bo and how close I was to her, or that he was unnerved by how brutal I’d been to the Vong after Fay had gone down. Observe had confirmed that wasn’t the case, with his unhappiness being at my age and, in his eyes, lack of combat experience compared to even him. Depending on how long it took us to either get off this world or eliminate the Vong, I’d probably end up regaling him with a few battle stories from my time with the Jedi. That should help ease his concerns about my apparent lack of experience. Still, that’d do little to ease his dislike of Bo, which wasn’t helped by how close she was to me.

As if on cue, a rustle from the bushes beside me was accompanied by Bo walking back to the group. She was in her full armour and while she could use her jetpack to scout, doing so had a few issues. The most obvious was the chance we’d not have a way to refuel the pack if the Ne’tra Sartr and Longstrider had been reduced to rubble. The other major issue was that, about a day and a half after we’d left the crash site, we’d been forced to take cover when a Vong ship had buzzed overhead. We’d quickly made plans for a fight as while we’d tried to cover our tracks when we’d left the crash site, any competent tracker would’ve been able to follow. Though to counter that we’d trekked toward Middle Distance for a few hours before slowly swinging around to head to the landing area.

I wasn’t sure if that had worked, but no scout force had come after us. Or at least they hadn't in the nearly two weeks we'd been trekking, we’d not come across any hint of the Vong beyond the odd distant sonic boom as one of their ships flew by. It was an odd thing as if a unit had been ambushed in Afghanistan or Iraq, significant resources were diverted to finding those responsible and taking them out. Either the Vong didn’t value their warriors the same way, or they had higher priorities for their occupation. Yet until I learnt more about them and their goals, I couldn’t make assumptions on which way to lean. That sort of thing is what got people killed in war, and I was under no illusions that this wasn't a war.

Still, none of us were dropping our guard and even when we rested for the night, two of us stayed up on watch. Bo and Zarkos set up some simple trip sensors if anyone approached our camp and we avoided using any light to give ourselves away to a night patrol as it flew in the skies above.

“All clear.” Bo’s voice, as it had been since the battle, was modulated by her armour. While that removed much of her emotion from the tone, it was easy to sense how tense she was. Even with me actively not reaching into our bond, once I’d regained control and the high of battle had worn off, the link had been flooded with anticipation and desire. All of which were aimed at me. Now, I couldn’t say I wasn’t interested in returning that desire but having her feelings floating around my thoughts as we moved, with a threat of Vong attack hanging over us, was a distraction. Plus, there was the fact that she’d grown this excited after I’d lost control and willingly drawn on the Dark Side to brutalise those Vong warriors. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her liking that, not when, even after nearly two weeks of hiking, I wasn’t yet sure how I felt about it myself.

What I’d done had been a step too far. Now, I didn’t regret killing the Vong, nor how willingly I’d done it. They’d wanted to kill us – that much was apparent when I’d reviewed my memories of the battle, never mind what’d happened to Fay – and appeared to be the perfect race to fight and, I suspected at the higher ranks, defeat Force users one on one. No, it was how brutal I’d been after they were defeated, how much I’d enjoyed it, that had me off-balance. I’d lost control, I’d willingly embraced the Dark Side – something I was concerned had been felt by many people throughout the galaxy, including Anakin – and come very, very close to being so lost in my fury that I almost struck down Bo. That would’ve made me no better than the Sith, and that wasn’t a path I wanted to go down. Yet, I understood that, while the rage that I wasn’t willing to let go of was dangerous, once I’d drawn upon it, the Vong had been, seemingly, an easy opponent to take down.

If Dooku was here, even with how cold he was to others, I knew he’d have been concerned for me. Not because I’d killed them sadistically, but for allowing my emotions to get the better of me, if only for a short time, but also for revelling in how I’d killed the Vong.

I glanced at Fay and sighed. I knew how she’d feel. How worried and ashamed she’d be with what I’d done, how happily I’d embraced my rage and sunk into the Dark Side to gain revenge. If… No, when she woke, I knew I had a long, long talk coming about my actions in that battle; and probably about what I’d do once the war of resistance began. And it would be a talk that would, I felt, without doubt, be one that would persist for years to come.

I’d had it explained to me multiple times over the years how dangerous, how insidious, the Dark Side was, yet even after the Bando Gora, I hadn’t fully grasped that. I wasn’t even sure I did now, not in the way the Jedi believed it was, yet I understood how easily it altered your perception of events when it took control. There was no doubt it’d altered how I appeared in the Force, meaning that apart from my masters’ concerns when I next spoke to them, interacting with the High Council was going to be a fucking nightmare. At best, they’d kick me from the Order, at worst – and far more likely I felt given the strength of connection I had with the Force – they’d imprison me for life in a place like the Citadel. While the former I could recover from, even if it’d cost me the chance to work with Dooku and access to the holocron vaults, the latter would be a major fucking problem for what was coming.

Because of that, I’d thought about how to suppress my Dark Side taint. I’d generated a new Force Power for that – Dark Side Masking – which was like Force Suppression except it only hid any Dark Side taint I bore instead of my entire Force presence. However, the kicker was that while I could train the power up by having it running, it carried a hefty fifty per cent penalty until I was taught more about the ability by a Darksider. That little nugget had turned my attention to one of the other things my mother had left for me in the vault on planet Ordo; a Sith holocron.

The problem there was just who the holocron had belonged to. From the moment I’d discovered it in the second crate from my mother, I’d thrown it into my Inventory and kept it there. Something about it had felt very dangerous, yet I wasn’t willing to give it over to my masters and have it locked away in the Jedi vaults. According to what Observe told me, just before I’d dropped it in my Inventory, the holocron had been created over twenty-seven thousand years ago by someone called King Adas. During my sabbatical in the Temple, I’d risked searching for the name in the Archives, yet nothing had come up. Since no one had spoken to me about searching for the name of a Sith from nearly thirty thousand years ago, I had to assume that meant they didn’t know of him. Which was not encouraging, and why I’d done my best to not think about the holocron until about a week ago.

“Cam? Hey!? Are you there?” I stopped mid-step, thrown from my thoughts as they once more turned to Adas’ holocron. Not only was Bo talking to me, but she’d started clicking her armoured fingers in front of my face. I could sense her annoyance, likely because I’d ignored her when she’d returned to the hovercart, mixed with some concern.

“Yeah. Sorry. Was just thinking.” That caused a spike in her concern, so I gave her a reason. “About what we might find when we reach the Sartr.”

Bo stared at me, which was always a little odd as I couldn’t see her face under her helmet before she turned away. Her concern had fallen, but there was now some skepticism radiating from her into the Force. “I’m sure HK’s fine. That droid’s survived much worse than being shot at by jumped-up aliens who think they can kill us.”

I chuckled very weakly. Until Fay had fallen, and I’d engulfed myself in the Dark Side, the Vong likely had the upper hand. “Aye, I’m sure he’s fine.” I didn’t doubt HK was in one piece, but the same couldn’t be said of the Ne’tra Sartr. Without either her or the Longstrider this war was going to be far more drawn out than I’d like. It’d take us, at best, a month plus to hike back to Middle Distance, and in that time, the odds that the situation didn’t deteriorate were slim.

And of course, the chances that we’d get to Middle Distance unimpeded were even slimmer. From what we knew, there were only a handful of large settlements on Zonama Sekot, which would allow the Vong to congregate their forces in a few places. Plus, the longer they held the cities, the more time they had to prepare for the rest of their forces. I doubted they planned to hold the planet with only a token force, not when the quest hinted that Zonama Sekot was critical in some way.

Regardless, at some point soon, we’d be engaging aliens that were stronger and faster than most races. To make matters worse, I couldn’t boost my physical stats anymore. Strength was my lowest at 21, while Agility and Vitality were at 22, taking me to the physical stat limit of 65. All I could do was hope that I’d get to level 28 before the quest was over – unlikely but still possible – and gain a perk to lift that limit.

If that didn’t happen, I’d likely dump most or all of my built-up Stat Points – 22 – into my mental stats. While tempting to do the same with my skill points, which stood at 385, I was less inclined to do that. I was fast approaching the end of the You Can’t Hurt Me quest and was running the risk of needing those points to avoid having my damage resistance skills locked for five years at their current levels. Though that might not be a major issue as even Damage Resistance [energy], which was my highest at Savant 5, only granted around a twenty per cent reduction in damage. That might seem like a lot, but against a lightsaber or blaster set to its highest setting, wouldn’t stop me from being killed by a blow that should be fatal.

… …

… …

“Statement: All in all, the vessel cannot be salvaged.”

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes at HK as he finished a run-down of the final state of the Ne’tra Sartr. To say she came off the worst against the Vong ships would be like saying the Jedi and Sith don’t like each other. For all her abilities, from the report HK had just given, the Sartr was outclassed and outflown by the Vong. Plus, there was the odd fact the Vong’s ships fired what had appeared to HK on the scanners to be some form of plasma weaponry, that their hulls showed no ill effects to the Sartr’s laser cannons or missiles and that when one flew close to the Sartr, the shields on my ship fell by over five per cent in a matter of seconds.

That had resulted in the Sartr losing badly and crashing to the ground around a hundred metres from the tent I was now in listening to HK’s report. While I’d have liked to put out the fire, Bo and I had decided against it and warned the Rangers not to do the same to the Longstrider which had crashed about a klick northeast. Doing so might alert the Vong as the fires and smoke would be monitored from orbit by any halfway decent commander. Thus, I was forced to watch my ship burn.

But by the Force, I was going to make the Vong pay for destroying her, and almost killing Fay.

I heard various objects in the tent begin to vibrate around me, as the memory of what’d happened to Fay merged with those of my time under Vosa’s tender care. The urge to just give, embrace that anger, that pain, and strike out against everything around me, to burn every Vong on the planet, or in orbit above to ash, was very, very tempting.

“Cautionary: Before he placed me in that… location, the creator spoke to me about you and the dangers you would face, Master. I cannot speak as to how the Force works, but the creator was worried about the trials you’d face regarding the Dark Side, and how control of it would be a life-long struggle.” As HK spoke, I slowly focused on him and not my memories, while taking long, deep breaths. “Conjecture: For me, I fail to comprehend the Creator’s concerns. He was at his most gloriously destructive when he drew on this Dark Side and cared little for the social niceties you me-… organics observe. Something that, I believe, was also the case for you when you embraced the Dark Side. Contemplative: I suspect the reason he restrained himself in later years was because of the presence of the snivelling former Jedi he insisted on travelling and procreating with.”

A weak laugh escaped my lips as HK tried, and failed, to hide his disdain for Bastila. Even after the battle of the Star Forge, it seemed the pair never found a happy medium beyond both wanting the best for Revan. Even if they’d had very different opinions on what was best for him. That also highlighted how he saw Bo as, since she’d learnt the truth about HK and started helping plan out his rebuilds, HK had become… well, not nice, but more tolerant of her place at my side.

“Ignoring your feelings on my great-grandmother, Revan knew far more about the Force when he built you than I do now. Which is saying nothing of when he placed you in the vault.” I sighed, shook my head, and then stood up and placed HK under my arm while taking in the campsite near the Sartr. Three tents were set up, the first for me and Fenrir, the second for Fay and Bo while the last was for the Rangers. Between my tent and Bo’s a tarp was covering the supplies Bo had pulled from the Sartr.

HK would stay with the equipment, which so far, included both beskads, Bo’s crushgaunts, a dozen replacement clips for blasters, a dozen spare rockets for Bo’s vambrace and enough food to keep us going for a month or so. While that was a good haul, it was barely a third of the equipment Bo had stored on the Sartr with no replacement fuel for her jetpack surviving the crash, and about a quarter of our remaining foodstuff. Honestly, if Bo hadn’t argued with Fay about how heavily to stock up before we’d begun the last leg of our journey to Zonama Sekot, we’d have likely not had anything beyond the beskar weapons left over. Fay had only relented when Bo had pointed out the fact that bar the meditation retreat, every place I’d travelled had involved osik hitting the fan in some way. Just as it had on this voyage.

“Agreement: Of course, he was, Master. He was my creator.”

That made me laugh again, with more conviction. I knew HK wasn’t actively trying to distract me or lift my spirits, but his behaviour was still doing that. “Yes, HK, he was.” I placed HK under the equipment tarp and attached him to a small generator. When we’d found him, his internal batteries had been running low which wasn’t a surprise. Nearly three weeks turned on while stuck in the wreckage had drained his batteries heavily.

As I walked from the tarp to my tent, Fenrir being out and about as he guarded the campsite, my thoughts turned to Revan’s quest. Promise of the Fallen was such a strange one as there were no objectives, no hints as to what I had to do, or what would happen if I succeeded or failed. Yet it continued to intrigue me. Revan had been a person who had been both Jedi and Sith, saviour and destroyer. I wanted to understand how he’d done that and kept coming back to some form of balance, how he’d reached a point of understanding of the Force as a whole and not the narrow-minded dogma of the current Jedi and Sith orders. And as much as I’d love for his Force ghost to appear, I knew that wasn’t how the Force worked, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be Revan’s way to do so.

I slipped my cloak off as I entered my tent, then pulled my robes over my head. The scars from my verd’goten were still there, serving as a constant reminder – which I wanted – of how close I’d come to dying. The same couldn’t be said of the Bando Gora ones as, since I’d been in a bacta tank far longer than after my verd’goten, they’d healed before I had the choice to keep them or not. I unclipped my lightsaber, and then placed it under my robes, which I’d rolled up to make a pillow.

I turned as the tent flap moved, confused as to why Bo was entering instead of Fenrir as Bo was meant to take the first watch. “I’ve set up sensors around the encampment which should give us some warning if the Vong appear.” As she spoke, she removed her helmet, making her tone change as it stopped being modulated halfway through her statement. Her braid slid down her back, not falling freely as weeks in the armour had, even though it was air-conditioned inside, matted it to her head, yet I found I didn’t mind the look. It wasn’t as appealing as seeing her braid flow around behind her, but it gave her a more worked look that suited her. “Fenrir’s going to take first watch,” while that explained why she was back in the camp, it didn't explain why she was in my tent and in the process of removing her breastplate. “I’m not sure if he truly understands me, but he gets what I’m implying better than most sentients I’ve met.” I chuckled at that even as she laid her breastplate down near the entrance to the tent.

“Not a surprise,” I began as I did my best to not let my eyes wander over her chest, which was now only covered by the familiar black skin-tight underweave she liked to wear. That damn thing revealed nothing but everything at the same time and imagining what was under it had haunted my dreams – in a good way – for several months now. “His species were engineered by the Sith to guard important sites like tombs of former Sith Lords.”

Bo paused as she leaned forward to unclasp her cuisses - the part of her armour that covered the thigh - and looked at me. That left me unable to avoid seeing the heave of her breasts as they were sitting just under her eyes. She still had a few more years of growth to go, but at seventeen, she was already gorgeous. “Really? Know where any of those tombs or sites might be?”

I laughed and shook my head. “First, we’ve got to get off this world. When we manage to do that, and if you still want to, I’m sure there are a few worlds that we can visit.” Dromund Kaas came to mind, but the quest had suggested taking three other Force users with me. While I didn’t doubt Bo’s combat ability, that was a risk I didn’t feel willing to take with her life. Still, my suggestion earned me a smile, one that sent a tremor up my spine.

“It’s a date then.” Before I could respond, she stood and removed her second cuisse, and then turned around. As she bent down to remove her greaves, her arse was forced back toward me. It was very hard to not enjoy the close-up view I was getting, and my mind wandered – as it often did – to wondering what, if anything, she wore under the suit. “What’s the plan for getting off this rock?” As she asked that, she stood and caught me ogling her. That drew a large grin for her even as she turned back to face me now standing in her underweave suit.

“The Rangers should be back tomorrow. While we wait, I want to see about salvaging the parts to make a second hovercart.” As I spoke she started unclipping her vambraces. “Otherwise, we’ll be forced to trek with all the gear on our backs, which would be a problem if we’re ambushed.”

“Aye, that’d be an issue.” She placed the first vambrace next to her helmet at the foot of my sleeping bag. That brought into focus that there was only one bag in the tent as I’d not seen her bring the spare on from the other tent. “While you do that, I’ll scout the area. Make sure we’re still secure here.”

“Kay.” I watched quietly as she removed the second vambrace and placed it down next to the first. “So, um, there’s only one bag…” I left the statement open, wondering how she’d reply to that. My body was reacting to her being this close in that underweave and I was glad I still had my trousers on otherwise things would be very, very awkward.

Bo smirked and knelt on my bag. “Yeah about that...”

… …

… …

I watched as Bo stepped away, heading into the brush for a patrol. It was hard to keep my mind from wandering back to our time at the wreck of the Sartr, but I managed it.

A soft growl-chuckle from Fenrir had me turning to see him walking on the other side of Fay’s hovercart. Since that night and morning, Fenrir had seemed pleased, almost as if he felt it only right the leaders of his pack had mated. At least he was amused by the change in our dynamic in the week since we’d left the wreck and begun the long trek to Middle Distance.

Behind us, Zarkos was escorting the second hovercart that was loaded with the supplies from the remains of both ships, though there’d been less to salvage from the Longstrider as, unsurprisingly, the Rangers travelled lighter than a Mandalorian. HK was also on that cart, and while there was a power source to charge him from since we didn’t know how long it’d take to reach Middle Distance, and what condition the settlement would be in once we arrived, I’d generally kept the droid turned off. Though his regular complaining about being treated as nothing more than scrap wasn’t helping the general mood, nor allowing us to move at least partially stealthily.

Movement on the minimap let me know Simvyl was coming closer. The Cathar knew something had happened between Bo and me. Either he smelt things since Cathar were said to have a superior sense of smell compared to Humans, or had picked up on the subtle shift in how Bo and I acted around each other. While he hadn’t commented on it, Observe had confirmed my suspicions that he wasn’t happy about the new arrangement. That said, over the last week and a bit since we’d left the wreckage, he’d accepted Bo was part of our unit and, at least outwardly, listened to each suggestion Bo had given him.

What probably helped with that was me ordering Bo to be more civil – for her – toward Simvyl. We were all in the same boat and needed to work together to get off the planet alive. I knew Bo didn’t think highly of Simvyl, because of both his attitude toward her and his species, but I didn’t have the same moral high ground as I’d once had on the matter. Every time I saw a Trandoshan I had an urge to think of them as nothing better than a walking handbag and had to fight off a desire to see that happen. All thanks to the dumb fuck who’d almost killed me on Tatooine.

Zarkos hadn’t commented about Bo and me, and, according to Observe, saw it as none of his business. Still, I’d spoken with him about it, wanting to see his feelings on the matter, but he’d waved me off and said ‘who I mated with was my choice, even if it was unusual for a Jedi to mate with anyone’. That wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t feel a need to explain and defend the oddity of the Order regarding sex.

“Why her?” Simvyl asked after he’d exited the bushes and come to my side. It seemed that after six days he’d finally worked up the courage to voice his issues on the matter. Though at least he’d waited until Bo was out of sight, even if I suspected her helmet would overhear the conversation.

“Ignoring that I think I like redheads,” I began with a smirk, “Bo and I have known each other, and fought together, for a few years now.” I was keeping things simple as Simvyl simply wasn’t important enough to be worth giving the full story to. Maybe, if we made it off this world, things might change, but I doubted that. “This between us, which her father I feel hoped would happen, has been building gradually for a while. With Master Fay… wounded, I think she felt I needed a distraction, one she might also have wanted.” And given I was still finding my thoughts drifting back to that ten-hour stretch where we’d shared a tent, what a distraction it was.

“I…” Simvyl stopped before he even began and looked away. Hopefully, that meant he’d bitten off any vitriol he had for Bo. He stared off in the direction she’d left, almost as if wanted to be sure she was gone. That did nothing for my growing irritation at his feelings toward Bo. He then looked at Fay and sighed. “I, I understand what’s it like to lose someone.”

The sudden shift in tone, or expected, tone, caught me off-guard and all the building irritation toward him bled away.

“Wh-when I was young, barely a cub really, my… my parents were killed. At the time I thought it’d been a Jedi who’d done that as he’d wielded a lightsaber, and I’d been consumed by rage.” He clenched his fists, mimicking something I did when my anger threatened to overwhelm me. “I… I’d wanted to find this Jedi, any Jedi, and make them pay for what they’d done. To rip them apart with my claws in the manner my ancestors had done to murderers before we’d joined the Republic.” He looked down at his hands, at his claws, and inhaled deeply. “The elders of my clan could see I was consumed by rage, by a need for revenge. They tried to reason with me, but I hadn’t even reached double cycles when my parents had been murdered. So, they placed me under the care of the entire clan. I was watched for years with them wanting to make sure I’d not do anything rash. They hoped, I think, that I’d move beyond my rage. However, that wasn’t the case. Instead, I’d spent those years becoming stronger, faster, and smarter. Learning how to fight from as many Holonet files as I could.” His eyes drifted over the trees around us as if he was trying to not focus on anything as he told his story. “Then, barely half a cycle before I reached the Age of the Hunt, when a Cathar is considered an adult and free to choose their destiny, another Jedi, another Human, came to our world.”

At this point, he stopped walking or talking, instead choosing to look skyward. I stayed silent, though kept walking beside Fay’s hovercart. A few moments later, Simvyl resumed walking and returned to my side. “That Human... he told me that the one who’d come to our world years before had fallen to the Dark Side. Not only that, but that he had killed him.” He shook his head as if to clear the memory. “I- I was lost after that. My life for the last five or so cycles had been geared around getting revenge and killing the one who murdered my parents. Yet that honour had been denied me. For a time, while he remained on our world, I considered killing the Jedi who’d robbed me of my kill. The man and his Padawan, a cub not much older than you I think, were kind to me though. They spoke of the dangers of allowing my anger to guide my actions. They spoke of what led the one who’d killed my parents to fall, and how, in the case of the older Jedi, he saw the Fallen Jedi’s actions as his fault. He had been the one to train and miss the signs in the Fallen Jedi, and he felt the blood of all those killed by the Fallen Jedi was on his hands.”

When he finished, we walked in silence. I was curious about who this Jedi was, and when this all happened, but I knew prodding about it was the wrong choice to make. About a minute or so later, Simvyl got his thoughts in order and looked at me. “Anyway, I just… I wanted you to know I understand the need for revenge. The way it alters your thoughts. While I’m, fine, with how you killed those aliens, I just want you to know I, I understand.” I nodded at that even as he made sure to hold my eyes. “That said if you… fall, I won’t hesitate to put you down.”

I took a few moments to hold his gaze as I considered his words. If I fell, if I gave into the Dark Side, Simvyl wouldn’t stand a chance. Yet the fact he was willing to say that was brave. “I hope it doesn’t come to that,” I began slowly. His story was missing a lot of detail, but just from what had been revealed, it gave me an insight into him, and possibly why he’d joined the Rangers. “What I did to the Vong,” I paused and shook my head to prevent that memory from resurfacing, “I went too far, I know that. I’m not saying that if I hadn’t lost control, I wouldn’t have killed them, just that, I enjoyed it. Far more than I know I should’ve.” I sighed and, mirroring his earlier actions, looked skyward. “I’m certainly not happy with how easily I let the Dark Side in. Not after the things that have happened to me in the past few years.” My eyes drifted to the bushes, where I knew instinctively where Bo was. “Those things… I only made it through the last one because of Bo. She risked a lot to find me, save me. I didn’t act on it then. I simply wasn’t in the right state to do so.” I chuckled softly as I looked at Fay. “I’m not sure I am now, in all honesty. But it was the event that I feel, changed how I saw her, and she saw me, and set us on the path we’ve taken.” I stopped talking for a second as images of Bo, and how I’d felt when I saw her in the Bando Gora base came flooding back. The relief, the surprise, was still strong in the memory. “So, yeah, I get your point. And thank you for telling me about your past.”

Simvyl held my gaze as we walked beside Fay’s hovercart, before nodding. With that, he slowed his pace so he could drift back to the second hovercart and Zarkos. That left me alone in my thoughts, something that – outside of the time at the wreckage – had been my default state since I’d killed the Vong.

My eyes drifted to Fay, as they often did. Her Force presence, while still weak, was stable. The wound to her stomach was healed and the poison coursing through her, while it wasn’t doing any new damage, was taking all of her effort to keep it at bay. I had faith that she’d recover, but I hoped that in Middle Distance we’d meet someone who could accelerate her recovery. Zonama Sekot was a world with an incredibly strong tremor in the Force, and unless I missed my guess, the Sekotans used that in their daily life. Including, I suspected, healing.

As much as I feared the conversation, I’d have with her when she woke, I needed Fay back on her feet. Even with Bo and Fenrir here to keep me close to centred and focused, I knew that if Fay died there’d be no place safe on this world, or in this galaxy, for the Vong to hide from my wrath.

… …

… …

In the end, it took a little over two months to reach a point where we could, if we climbed a tree, see the buildings that marked the edge of Middle Distance. While we still had a week or so of trekking to reach that point, we’d still made better time on this trek than the one to the landing area. Of course, the last leg of this trek was going to take longer than I’d like, something punctuated by the sonic boom of a Vong ship, one that appeared to be the same size as the one that’d shot down our transport, raced away from the small city. The only time we’d monitored anything different was when a larger one, easily twice the size of the Ne’tra Sartr, had landed in the settlement. That one, which landed yesterday, had spent the day in Middle Distance before withdrawing that evening.

“All clear.”

The words came from Bo as she used her armour to watch as the Vong's vessel withdrew in a south-easterly direction. That would take it, roughly, toward Far Distance suggesting the main occupation force was based there. Since that was the place where the Sekotan starships were designed and seed-partners selected, it made sense it was the main holding of the Vong scout force.

With Bo’s notice, we all stood and moved toward the hovercarts. Both were covered in tarps we’d made about a week ago when we’d first heard a sonic boom. While they only hid the hovercarts from visual sight, when coupled with the carts being on low-power settings as we began to map out the Vong patrol schedule, it did help them less likely to be spotted from the air.

“If they stick to their pattern, we should be safe until nightfall.”

“True, but until we learn how often they alter their patrol flight schedule, we can’t make that assumption.” Zarkos countering Simvyl’s remark before I could.

While it was unlikely the Vong would alter their flight patterns during a day, they were warriors and, I had to assume, not as predictable or stupid as some of the Republic’s judicial forces could be in engagements. When reading over the more recent incidents to happen within the Republic, it’d become obvious that the Judicial Forces, and the Jedi when they’d worked with them, stuck to a strict set of rules that made their behaviour predictable to any with access to said rulebook. As my first drill instructor had said, in combat, becoming predictable to an enemy meant you were signing your death certificate. That had been driven home when, during the early months of the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan, local insurgents had mercilessly picked off patrols because the unit COs were textbook planners with no battlefield experience. Of course, that had meant my unit, and our similar units from our allies had been overworked in the early months striking back at those same insurgents.

And yes, the irony that I was now the insurgent was not lost on me, even if I’d rather not focus on it. Though I was thinking about the fact that the moment we engaged and eliminated a ground patrol, we’d likely have Vong special forces – which was a scary concept – on our arses.

Still, we had, at our newly slowed speed, three to five days until we reached Middle Distance. The odds were high we’d run into at least one patrol in that time, which is why Bo and I had begun planning out how we would ambush and remove them. For a time, I’d felt like skirting past the patrols and entering the city to find Gann, Sheekla or another Sekotan we knew for what they knew about the Vong occupying their world. Bo though had rightly pointed out that peace lovers like them, though she called them something far worse than that, wouldn’t be thinking about how to resist. Only about how to continue their daily lives while under occupation.

Because of that, I’d agreed that taking out a patrol and, hopefully capturing a Vong alive for interrogation, had more hope of providing useful intel.

Of course, that meant finding a spot in a patrol route to ambush them, taking them down quickly and quietly enough that they couldn’t call for backup, and then withdrawing stealthily to a location – which we still had to locate – to conduct the interrogation and autopsy.

After that, infiltrating Middle Distance would be the objective.

… …

… …

[Targets approaching. Wait for my signal.]

I sent the words telepathically to Bo. She couldn’t respond as even if I tried to teach her how she was unnerved about speaking into someone’s mind and lacked the strength in the Force to even attempt it. However, even with me having an earwig in, I didn’t have the tech to speak without my voice travelling on the wind. Thus, I had to communicate the ambush this way.

“Copy.” Bo though could reply audibly since her helmet could cut out external signals. Once more I was pissed about having to fight without any armour bar my vambraces and dragonhide cloak and, provided we survived this war of occupation, and I was knighted, I planned to return to Mandalore and get some armour made. Probably not a full set of Mandalorian armour, but enough that I had protection for my more vital areas.

Haran, if the durasteel armour that I’d worn a year ago had survived the destruction of the Ne’tra Sartr, I’d have found a way to wear that. It might’ve been small for me the last time I saw it, but it’d offer more protection than Jedi robes and Force powers that didn’t work directly against the Vong and, I suspected, any of their technology.

Still, as we’d trekked to Middle Distance – which we were still perhaps twenty klicks from – I’d asked Bo if she could upgrade my vambraces. While non-lethal options were, generally, useful, in an insurgency campaign, I’d feel better with a trick or two up my sleeve. Surprise had rippled off Bo when I’d asked – which was confirmed by Observe – though I’d expected that. Altering armour was a very personal thing, and outside of asking an armourer, doing so was only done between people with complete trust in each other. While I wouldn’t say Bo and me were at that level, I would trust her with my life; kriff, I already had in a way.

While Bo couldn’t do much with the supplies on hand, she’d promised me that as soon as she could, she’d at least see some blasters added to the vambraces. I’d have loved some rockets or a flamethrower, but as the supplies for those were limited, I knew that wouldn’t happen. At least for now.

I sent a similar telepathic message to Fenrir, and while he couldn’t reply verbally, I sensed his agitation at having to wait. He wasn’t happy about waiting but understood, I felt, that we’d be in battle soon enough. Though I’d been saying that for the last two days.

That was when, as we came close to Middle Distance, Simvyl had spotted a four-sentient patrol. After that, we’d located a nearby cave to act as a base, and Zarkos and Fenrir had stayed as guards while Bo, Simvyl and I had scouted out the Vong patrol. Or patrols as there was no way they could be coming passed out vantage points so regularly. That was confirmed when Bo was able to gain recordings of nearly two dozen patrols over a day and a half.

From those, we determined that six specific patrols passed in a repeating order. The gap between each was three to three and half hours and they followed the same rough routes every time. Since they’d been occupying the planet for about three and a half months by now and had settled into regular patrol routes, it suggested they’d grown bored of the guard assignment and that the locals weren’t causing any problems. This only made Bo’s idea about ambushing a patrol for intelligence far more appealing than sneaking directly into the city.

There was a risk in taking them down, though that was mitigated by the time between patrols and their distance from the edge of the city. Plus, there was no regular air cover. Those sorties had stuck to the same cycles for nearly two weeks now, so with all that in mind, and Zarkos having some experience in anatomy and Bo more than willing to interrogate a Vong – I wasn’t going to ask questions about how she planned to do that if it got us any actionable intel – we’d set up this ambush.

The wind blew regularly from the direction the patrol came, meaning they’d not be able to detect us that way. I didn’t doubt that, after months in the jungles and forests of Zonama Sekot, we all needed a long bath. Yes, we’d stopped at a few smaller lakes and rivers as we’d trekked for fresh water and washing, but those were too likely to be monitored for us to risk staying long, and something told me the longer we took to begin the insurgency, the less chance we had of driving this expeditionary force from the planet before more of their forces arrived.

As the null-zones came closer on the minimap, time seemed to slow. Not just because the Force was accelerating my reaction time, and thus making the world around me feel slower, but because I could feel the building anticipation and excitement within me. I wasn’t willing to admit it entirely, but I was looking forward to this. The rage for what the Vong had done to Fay still flowed within me, and while I didn’t want to let it overcome me during this engagement, the desire to make these ugly motherfuckers pay for what they did to her was there. As was a need to impress Bo again as I wanted her excited the next time – whenever that would be – that we could enjoy ourselves.

The first of the deformed figures came into view and I prayed the Force would work in masking my scent and sounds from them. It wasn’t a directed power like Telekinesis or one that reacted to their contact like Barrier so I had no clue if it would, but since this was a small engagement, it was the safest place to test that theory.

The lead Vong slowed and sniffed the air. My hand tightened around my lightsaber’s hilt. Even with the Force to help, I’d still need three or four seconds to close the distance between me and them after my opening move. If they were on edge, the shock and awe of this ambush wouldn’t be as effective as I hoped.

The lead Vong muttered something that sounded not much different from Fenrir’s growls and kept moving, his eyes scanning the bushes and trees. The others, as they came into view, they too scanned the area. They knew something was up, but not what. Still, I’d planned for this.

My free hand rose slightly, and I felt the two-dozen fist-sized rocks I’d brought with me levitate off the ground. A flick of my wrist sent them cashing out of the bushes around me. The Vong tensed as one spotted the incoming projectiles. That one ducked down while two more dodged enough to only take one or two strikes. The lead Vong was the unlucky one as he took four rocks to his chest, taking him off his feet violently.

Even before the rocks struck, I was moving. The faint howl of my lightsaber echoed the roar of my rage as it rose within me even as I pulled my beskad into my other hand.

The Vong who’d seen the rocks first was my initial target. He brought his snake-staff up. I watched it harden and straighten as he did. Yet I was on him before he was ready. I slipped to the side, my beskad flicking up with Force-boosted strength. The blade struck true, hitting him at his wrist where any armour should be weaker. I was rewarded as the beskar blade slid through, with some difficulty, the limb.

Even as its eyes widened in shock, and the snake-staff fell to the ground with the severed hand still gripping it tightly, my lightsaber flicked around. Whatever armour the Vong were wearing was simple, like that of the easier kills in the first battle. Still, not wanting to chance it, I aimed the tip of my blade for a ridge in the chest piece, where the bottom of his ribcage should be. The blade sunk in easily. I lifted my arm, pulling the plasma of the blade upward and rupturing whatever internal organs the Vong had.

Not wanting to slam into the Vong as I delivered the killing strike, I spun. That moved my blade further and it emerged from the Vong’s opposite shoulder. The head and handless arm fell back as the rest of the body slumped to the floor, a burnt black scar marking my lethal attack.

As I ended my pivot and found myself amongst the other Vong, I saw Bo had attacked. The Vong on the ground was being pounded by blaster bolts from Bo. The other two, once they’d regained their balance from the rock strikes, had split their focus. One had turned toward Bo, its staff spitting out globs of poison – not that they’d do any damage to her armour – and was moving toward her while the second Vong turned my way. That was when Fenrir announced himself.

With a worryingly loud roar, the tuk’ata leapt from a bush. As my lightsaber deflected the first attack for the Vong engaging me, he raced over the battlefield, leaping over the headless body near my feet, and slammed into the Vong moving on Bo. I leaned back to avoid the snapping snake head of the Vong I was fighting, a glob of poison catching a few strands of my hair that’d come loose and burnt them off. At the same moment, as the Vong he’d slammed into crumpled to the ground, Fenrir’s maw opened, and he clamped down hard on the heel of that Vong.

I knew Fenrir could keep that Vong pinned for a while, but I couldn’t be sure for how long. The Vong would have training for countering attacks by beasts, so it was only a matter of time until the Vong gained the upper hand. Those thoughts went through my head even as I slid under a thrust of the Vong’s staff, guiding it away from my lightsaber, and slammed my shoulder into his side. Even with the Force boosting my abilities, I felt my teeth rattle even as I pivoted. My beskad came around, slicing the Vong across the chest and expelling black ichor over the blade.

As the Vong stumbled back, I rolled my shoulders, moving around my blades. My lightsaber pushed up, driving the snake-staff into the air as I rolled my other wrist. My beskad came back around, digging in deep at the Vong’s armpits. I felt the strength of his grip slip meaning I’d caught the muscle, even as the beskad continued its slash. The blade travelled over the Vong’s upper chest, aiming for his neck. However, the Vong was just fast enough as he pulled his head back enough that only the very tip of my blade drew blood. The wound was too shallow to do any damage, but as it stumbled back, I saw rage and disbelief in the Vong’s eyes.

With its balance off, and the snake-staff up in the air from my lightsaber pushing it there to create the opening for my beskad, I saw my chance to end this duel. My lightsaber swept around, using the open air to my side, with me aiming for the Vong’s neck. Yet before I could land the killing blow, I felt something wrap around my ankle, followed by a faint hiss.

A glance down confirmed the snake-staff of the first Vong I’d killed had wrapped itself around my ankle. Its head reared back, likely planning to inject me with the same venom Fay was combating. Not wanting that to happen, I altered my balance. My lightsaber missed the Vong as I lifted the leg the snake-staff was around, then landed a kick to the Vong’s side. The blow forced it back further even as the snake-staff became groggy from slamming into the Vong. I kept rotating until I’d completed a full circle, brought my foot down and slashed at the snake-staff. It hissed as the blade slid along its armoured hide, and while the blow didn’t wound it, it was enough to force the thing to release its grip.

Seeing a chance, I drove my beskad down, taking pleasure as the metal blade did what the energy one couldn’t and broke through the armour and sunk into the snake’s skull. The beskad hit the ground, yet when I tried to remove the blade by standing on the dead snake-staff, it wouldn’t slide free, instead lifting the dead organic weapon with it.

Before I could think of a way to free my beskad, the Vong rushed in, having recovered from me driving it back. Its staff was thrusting forward, aiming for my side. Not wanting to deflect the blow with my lightsaber and risk the staff shifting and coiling around my remaining weapon, I shifted plans.

The moment my hand slipped from the beskad’s hilt, twisted, foul red energy surged from my fingertips. It slammed into the Vong and its weapon, stopping the attack in its steps. However, unlike the previous battle, the Force Lightning attack, apart from being a different colour, didn’t drive the Vong back or lift it from its feet.

Putting aside the questions of why that was, I kept the energy flowing as even if it wasn’t as dangerous as the black variant, red lightning worked. Given how fucked up the faces of the Vong looked, it was impossible to tell if the Vong was in pain, but the opened mouth and wide eyes brought me satisfaction.

A smile came to my face as the energy contorted over the Vong’s body, slowing its movement. My lightsaber surged forward. The lightning stopped a split second before the blade struck the Vong, giving the alien no time to counter. A deep, brunt gash appeared on one thigh and then another on its side as I pulled back my blade. Before it could respond fresh, corrupted energy slammed into its chest. The tendrils of Dark Side-infused chaos sought out the fresh wounds, making black ichor seep from them.

The snake-staff reared back, opening its mouth to unleash its venom. Before it could, I ended the torrent of lightning slamming into its master and redirected the energy to the open maw. The snake-staff twitched as I delighted in seeing smoke rise from the still-open maw. Yet before I could enjoy the thing’s death, the Vong pulled the staff back.

Its free arm came flying, a fist bound for my face. I shifted one foot, watching as the hand, and the spikes on the outer part of the hand, ones that reminded me of a knuckle duster, missed my face by inches. At the same time, my lightsaber moved, finding the weak spot under the Vong’s arm. A moment later, the arm began to fall; its momentum no longer countered by the body it was formerly attached to.

A small glob of venom splatted harmlessly against my vambrace. The beskar easily ignored any corrosive elements to the snake-staff’s shot. Before it or its master could attack again, my lightsaber slapped the staff on the side of its head as my free hand surged forward. As I felt the wound on the Vong’s neck under my grip, I called forth my rage.

Red light danced in the gap between my fingers as the Vong’s eyes widened. It slapped away my arm, and then stumbled back and fell to a knee. Its throat, decidedly harder feeling than I’d expect from the Vong’s skin, was charred black; residual flickers of red energy stood out as they died on the wound.

It knew it was about to die, I could see that in its eyes, yet still it attacked. I could respect that, even as I leaned to avoid a wild thrust from the still-smoking snake-staff. At the same time, my lightsaber jabbed forward. The tip clipped the Vong’s chest, then as it rushed me, slid up his chest until it reached the neck. The fresh wound did nothing to stop my weapon and the energy blade sunk into, and then through, the Vong’s neck.

In one last desperate attack, it slammed its staff-wielding arm into my side. I was knocked away even as the Vong slumped over, the last embers of life draining from its eyes.

I hit the ground and rolled, not wanting to allow another Vong an opportunity while I was down. As I finished in a kneeling position, my lightsaber already up to defend, a burst of pain echoed in the Force. It was followed a second later by the sight of Fenrir being thrown across the battlefield; slamming spikes-first into the falling body of the Vong I’d just killed.

The rage within, rippling just beneath the surface flared. As I stood, Force Lightning danced between the fingers of my free hand before racing to strike the Vong. The Vong was knocked back, struggling to keep his balance.

I surged forward, wanting to kill this Vong. I heard Fenrir right himself and snarl behind me. My lightning darkened, shifting from a bright, blood red to a darker burgundy. The Vong set his feet and used his staff to take the incoming torrent of Dark Side-infused energy. The snake-staff hissed out in pain, which only heightened my need to hurt it and its master.

A black blur raced past me, sliding under the torrent of malignant power I was throwing at the Vong. I felt Fenrir’s delight as his teeth sunk into the ankle of the Vong. The Vong lost its balance and, not wanting to wound my beast, I cut the Force Lightning. Fenrir’s jaw yanked back; black ichor sent flying as he ripped the foot of the Vong from the leg. The snake-staff was sent flying as the Vong fell back. To help it on its way, I lifted several of the rocks from my opening assault and hurled them as violently as I could. Most missed but one entered the mouth, making a sickening squelch that made my blood sing as it travelled down the snake-staff’s gullet.

Fenrir pounced, his mouth now free, and clamped his jaw around the Vong’s neck. A wet crunch soon followed, and I felt Fenrir’s satisfaction at his kill.

Another grunt of pain rippled in the Force, though this one lacked the intensity of Fenrir’s. Knowing it had come from Bo, I turned to see her engaged in close-quarters combat against the remaining Vong. The one she’d peppered with blaster bolts that I’d knocked down with my initial rock onslaught.

Bo had lost her beskad, though intentionally as I saw it in a tree; the snake-staff of the Vong she was fighting pinned there. Black blood flowed down the scorched tree – a sign Bo had used her flamethrower – as the last embers of life trickled from it. Bo dodged a nasty-looking hook, only to take a gut shot. The Vong followed it up with a haymaker that caught Bo under her chin.

She was sent back, only avoiding tumbling away by a quick burst from her jetpack, which was also used to generate some distance. It was hard to get a read on Bo’s injuries, but I made out discolouration all over the Vong’s chest and upper arms, meaning Bo’s blows were landing and doing damage. Still, I felt my fury bubble through the block I’d placed on it. I knew Bo could handle herself in a fight, but she was mine and no one touched what was mine!

As the Vong rushed her, I flung my free hand toward it. Force Lightning, bending to my demands, surged forth. The core of those tendrils of power had darkened considerably, and as they struck the Vong, it was lifted from the ground slightly. It wasn’t as impressive as during the first battle but it was enough that when its feet returned to the ground, it took a step back to try and stabilize its balance. That failed though when said foot caught an unearthed root and stumbled into a tree.

Bo was on it like Fenrir attacking a rare bantha steak. I could feel her rage as her fists slammed into the sides of the Vong before it could raise any blocks. Its head snapped back as Bo landed a vicious hook. Another blow rocked the Vong again before one of her hands closed around the throat of the Vong.

Her other hand slid to her side. “BO! Do…” The words died on my tongue as Bo pulled a small vibroblade knife from her belt and slammed it into the eye of the Vong, killing it instantly as the blade sunk into the brain. “Fuck!” The curse spilt from my mouth as, with the rage inside returning to its container, I realised that while the ambush had been a success, as had most of the strategies we’d employed, we’d failed to take a Vong alive for questioning. While there was still one snake-staff nearby that was alive – remembering about it I picked up a large rock and slammed it down on the thing’s tail, trapping it in place until we were ready to withdraw – it wasn’t the same as having a sentient being for intel extraction.

As Bo pulled her blade from the Vong’s skull, and the twitching body slumped to the ground, I shook my head. Not quite a five-by-five operation, but one that, given the lack of intel we’d had going in about the Vong’s abilities when I wasn’t blitzing them while in a Dark Side rage, overall, it was a successful mission. Still, we’d have to remove one of the bodies, likely the one Bo had just killed as it was the only one still with all its limbs. That was going to be a pain as the Vong were immune to the Force and I’d rather not leave drag marks the next patrol could follow back to our base of operations.

Also, while we’d won this battle, it’d been harder than I’d have liked with me drawing on the Dark Side a little too readily. These were, in my mind at least, simple Vong foot soldiers yet had proved a harder challenge than anything but the Death Watch leaders I’d fought when I’d unintentionally saved the public persona of Darth Plagueis. There was no way their entire occupation force was composed of them and at some point, we’d come up against far more skilled combatants. A thought that oddly enough excited me more than it discouraged me.

… …

… …

The sound of footsteps from within the cave drew my attention from the ration pack I was chewing on. While they were better than the MREs from Earth, that wasn’t the highest bar to clear. From deeper in the cave where we’d set up our base, emerged Zarkos and Bo. The Togrutan looked a little light in his cheeks while Bo seemed fine, a slight spike in desire radiating from her as our eyes met.

“So, what did you learn?”

Zarkos glanced at Bo before speaking. “Ignoring the fact that we used a vibroknife and armour lights to conduct an autopsy, I’d say we learnt a fair amount.” I passed a canteen of water to him, which he happily gulped down before continuing. “For starters, we already knew the Vong were stronger than most sentients, faster too. That was confirmed due to the density and complexity of their muscles, which we only got to after having to fight to cut their skin. If the Vong you brought back is, as we suspect, a simple soldier, then the fighting is going to get a lot harder. There are… grafts over critical locations of external flesh that adds protection. I can only assume that altering a body is a part of the warrior’s culture and that, if they kept doing this the longer that they’re in their species’ military, the number of improvements would increase.”

“So senior Vong will be better protected, got it.” That added some weight to my theory, but without dissecting a squad leader – or whatever they called a small unit commander – we couldn’t confirm it.

“Yes, but that’s understating the matter. Their skin, even where it hasn’t been altered, can resist a grazing cut from most weapons. Like Trandoshans.” I bit my tongue to avoid growling at the reference as I didn’t need another reason to hate the Vong after what they’d done to Fay. “And then there’s their internal biology. Their heart is more centralised than a Human’s and encased in bone, while the other critical organs either have backups, are larger than a Human’s, are partially protected by bones, or a combination of all three. Even if a normal vibroblade was able to pierce their skin, it’d struggle to take out a major organ with a single thrust; and that’s if it could get through the bone structure.”

“Good thing we don’t use vibroblades as a first choice.” Bo’s words were likely meant to reassure but they didn’t work. While she and I had weaponry that could break the Vong’s skin or implanted armour, and that Fenrir’s bite had enough strength to do so, the Rangers didn’t. That’d mean altering some basic tactics I’d been developing ever since the ambush.

Bo sat down beside me and picked up a ration pack I’d preheated for her. While we’d found some local fauna and flora we could eat, mainly near fresh water sources, I’d avoided killing too many at a time. It had felt as if the Force, acting through the planet, had guided us and I didn’t want to disrupt the almost harmonic balance that existed on this world.

“Yes, but even then, we can’t engage them in single combat. Well, outside of Cameron.” Zarkos offered as he closed the canteen and moved toward the supplies on the second hovercart. Fay’s hovercart was off to one side, behind a small rock outcropping. In the event the Vong found our base camp, it’d provide her with some protection while we fought off any attackers. “To engage the Vong we’ll have to stick to counter-tactics; perhaps the use of mines or explosive traps.”

“That should work, but we’ve got a limited supply of anything that might kill a Vong.” Outside of Bo’s rockets, we only had about a dozen thermal detonators and three spare blasters that’d come from the Longstrider. Well, that was if I didn’t add the weaponry in my Inventory to the pile which was an issue that I’d been debating for over a month.

The Rangers would likely not question it if I passed it off as a Force ability I had, but Bo would. I’d already drawn from the Inventory twice in the last few months – against the taozin and during my rage-fuelled rampage at the start of this war – and while she hadn’t brought the matter up with me, I did suspect she was curious. Something further hinted at by the sidelong glance she gave me as she chewed on her rations.

“What about their weapon?” I asked, changing the subject. Thanks to Observe, I knew it was called an amphistaff, but I had to be careful to not let that name slip as I’d done with the Vong’s. That was another little thing that Bo had caught on to. If not for the fact we were at war, I felt she’d have pulled me aside and interrogated me about these moments.

“Shabyr wrong.”

“That… is something.” Zarkos paused, ignoring Bo’s comment, almost as if he was considering his words. “It’s alive, that’s undeniable. The venom they excrete is highly dangerous,” at that I glanced over at Fay as she rested on the hovercart, “and capable of damaging durasteel for a slightly corrosive effect it holds. The skin, well armour, it’s covered in can harden with, I think, an internal elector-chemical signal and can resist glancing strikes from lightsabers and beskar; though a direct strike with the point of a blade of either can and will pierce the skin.”

“Then get stuck,” Bo added since that’d happened to both our beskads during the ambush. Which was a problem as the amphistaffs needed to be killed along with the Vong for the battle to end.

“What about the poison?” Zarkos’ face slipped.

“I’m sorry, but without dedicated equipment, there’s little I can tell you that we don’t already know because of its effect on Master Fay.” I nodded in understanding. I hadn’t expected that they’d learnt anything useful, but I had to ask. Bo’s hand came to rest on my forearm. I turned and smiled at her, finding some solace in her eyes.

“Where’s Simvyl?”

“He’s out with Fenrir on patrol and, I think, checking the traps.” Zarkos looked toward the cave entrance.

When Bo, Fenrir, and I had returned to the cave, with the Vong body carried on branches I was moving with the Force and the snake staff held firmly in Bo’s armoured hand, we’d discovered the Rangers had been busy. I hadn’t planned on the cave being our base of operations for anything more than a short time, but the Rangers had decided otherwise. Motion and heat sensors had been dotted all around the entrance, along with, inside that perimeter, a few dozen simple hunting traps. They likely couldn’t take out a Vong, but they’d at least slow them down. Plus, as they were made from elements in the forest, there was nothing to hint we weren’t anything but locals hiding out from the occupation.

“When do we strike next?”

I looked at Bo, seeing the hunger for battle in her eyes. I knew she wanted to strike again, try and catch the Vong off-balance, but that wouldn’t work. We were facing an occupying force that, unless I missed my guess, wasn’t based primarily around Middle Distance.

“Not now. We need intel from inside the city. Provided that is actionable, and the Vong aren’t, as I suspect, holding the city in a tight grip, we can begin to plan out our next move. They’ll undoubtedly change their patrols: the frequency, routes, and size. We’ll need to adapt to that and refine our tactics.”

Bo rolled her eyes. “I know the doctrine. I’ve been learning it longer than you,” I doubted that as I had another life to draw on but didn’t comment as such, “I’m just… eager to get back in the fight.”

I lifted my free hand and placed it on the one still resting on my forearm. “I know.” That brought a smile to her face. “Once we’re ready, we’ll strike out again. Harder this time. It’ll take work, but I’m not leaving this planet until they run away, or all lie dead at my feet.”

Lust pulsed from Bo as her eyes locked on mine. “Now you’re talking.” For a moment, I thought she was going to start something, but she didn’t. Possibly because Zarkos – conveniently or not depending on how I wanted to see it – chose that moment to cough gently.

Part of me wanted to throw him out of the cave, to see if Bo would take things further. However, the logical, less primal side of me won out and I returned to my rations.

Though if he left soon, I was going to see just how far Bo wanted to take things this time.

… …

… …