Chapter 166: Jedi Extraction
The Mandalorians fired the missile launchers at the incoming gunships, but the Imperial pilots had been waiting for this. The gunships split formation, breaking left and right as the missiles passed between them. Two of the missiles were intercepted by point-defense fire from the lead gunship, while the others detonated in the distance after missing their target.
The fighters that had passed overhead were already coming back around. They opened fire on the airborne Mandalorians, picking them off one by one. A few managed to evade the initial strafing run, but the gunships closed the distance and finished them off with concentrated fire.
The Sith Lord facing Master Orath snarled as he watched his Mandalorian support get cut down in seconds.
"You will not leave this world alive, Jedi," he said turning back to face Master Orath.
"That’s the second time someone has said that to me today," Master Orath replied, raising his lightsaber back into a defensive stance. "I’d rather not hear it a third time."
Before the Sith Lord could respond, the lead Imperial gunship dropped low over the engagement zone, its side hatches sliding open. The Aurifex Legate’s poured out the moment the ship was close enough to the ground.
The first Legate hit the ground at a sprint, his arc-fused blade already drawn. He went directly for the nearest cluster of Sith troopers, cutting through their line before they could fully turn to face the new threat.
The Balance Keepers descended next, dropping from the gunship without waiting for it to fully land. They ignited their lightsabers mid-fall, landing in the gaps between the Jedi defensive circle and the encroaching Sith forces.
"Form up on the wounded," called one of the Balance Keepers. "Commander, secure the perimeter and prepare for evac."
"Copy that," the Commander replied, already directing his Legate’s into a defensive cordon around the crash site.
The remaining Sith troopers, who had moments before been on the verge of overwhelming the Jedi position, now found themselves caught between two forces. The Mandalorians who had not taken to the air with jetpacks tried to regroup, falling back toward a defensive position behind a low ridge of broken terrain.
Master Orath used the brief moment of relief to glance back at his fellow Jedi. The wounded had been moved closer to the center of the formation, and the Balance Keepers had created a Force barrier around them that was deflecting the stray blaster bolts that came through the defense line.
"Master Orath," called one of the Balance Keepers, a Twi’lek woman whose green saber had just finished cutting down three enemies. "How many wounded do you have?"
"Two critical. Four with minor injuries. The rest are exhausted but functional."
"We have medical capacity on the secondary transport. We’ll get the critical cases stabilized first."
Orath nodded, then turned his attention back to the Sith Lord, who had begun moving again. The man’s posture had shifted which indicated he was reassessing his odds rather than committing to the engagement.
"Run if you intend to," Orath said. "I don’t care which one you choose."
The Sith Lord’s lip curled. He raised his hand and unleashed a stream of Force lightning, not at Orath, but at the wounded Jedi behind him.
Orath moved before he had time to think about moving. He stepped into the path of the lightning; blade raised and caught the energy on his saber. The impact drove him back two steps, his arms shaking from the strain of channeling that much raw energy through a blade not designed to hold it.
The Twi’lek Balance Keeper was already on the move. She covered the distance between herself and the Sith Lord in three strides, her saber rising in a strike that the Sith Lord barely managed to block.
The lightning cut off. Orath staggered forward, catching himself as he steadied his breathing. The lightning had drained more from him than he wanted to admit, but he forced his focus back onto the fight unfolding in front of him.
The Twi’lek Balance Keeper was already pressing her advantage. Her movements were different than how Orath and other Jedi fought. There was no hesitation in her strikes, no measured pauses to assess the opponent’s intent before committing. Each swing flowed into the next without any wasted motion, and her use of the Force in between strikes was so smooth that it was difficult to tell when she switched between the two.
The Sith Lord, who had clearly expected to dominate the engagement, was now being pushed back. His parries were getting shorter. His footing was deteriorating. Orath had seen enough lightsaber duels to recognize the precise moment when a fighter realized they were going to lose.
The Sith Lord recognized it too. He broke from the engagement abruptly, leaping backward with a Force-assisted jump that carried him several meters away. He landed in a crouched position and immediately began running toward the ridge where the Mandalorians had regrouped.
The Twi’lek Balance Keeper did not pursue. Instead, she extinguished her lightsaber and turned back toward the wounded.
"Let him run," she said, anticipating Orath’s question before he could ask it. "He’ll report to whoever sent him. That’s more useful to us than killing him here."
Orath had a different opinion on the matter, but he was not going to argue with someone who had just saved his life and the lives of every Jedi behind him. He extinguished his own saber and turned toward the wounded.
The secondary transport had landed by then. Imperial medics were already moving among the injured Jedi. The two critical cases were loaded onto stretchers first. The minor injuries were treated where they sat.
"Master Orath," the Commander said, approaching with his helmet under one arm. He was a Gen’Dai, which Orath knew since it was mostly Gen’Dai who were Ascendants.
"We need to move. The Sith Lord that just retreated will return with more forces, and we’d prefer not to be here when they arrive."
"Understood." Orath paused. "I want to thank you. For the response time. For the willingness to engage."
"You can thank the Emperor," the Commander replied. "He allowed us to come to you aid and fight the Sith." The Commander was never told this, but he could guess that since the mission wasn’t called off, that the Emperor allowed their mission to continue.
Orath had not expected that the Emperor himself would have been involved in the decision, although when he thought about it some more, it made sense.
"Then I will thank him personally if I ever have the opportunity," Orath said.
The Jedi were loaded onto the transports within the next several minutes. The Aurifex Legate’s maintained their defensive perimeter until the last of the wounded had been secured, then withdrew to the gunships.
As the transports lifted off and turned back toward Olaris, Orath looked down at the terrain below. The crash site receded into the distance, marked by the smoldering remains of his transport and the bodies of the Sith troopers who had been caught in the engagement.
He thought about the Sith Lord who had run. About the Mandalorians who had been cut down from the air. About the speed and precision with which the Imperial forces had operated, treating what would have been a desperate last stand as a routine extraction.
The galaxy was changing. He had known that for some time, but the awareness landed differently now that he had been on the receiving end of what the Imperium was capable of when it chose to act.
The Sith had pushed too far. They had attacked Jedi inside the Imperial zone of control, even if only barely inside, and the Imperium had responded with force.
He suspected the Sith Emperor would receive a report about this engagement within hours. And once he did, that report would not be received well.
————
A few hours later:
On Veldari, Daimon was sitting in front of his desk as the image of the Sith Emperor popped up.
"Emperor Daimon, I was just informed about this incident, and I must apologize for what has happened. But I must also express the rising pressure from your continued interference in Sith activities."
Daimon didn’t say anything. Instead, he let the Sith Emperor’s word sit there for a long moment before he opened his mouth to speak.
"I accept your apology, but what I do not accept is Sith Troopers shooting at Imperial soldiers. So now I will state my demands." said Daimon. The Sith Emperor held his breathe since he knew that something like this was going to happen.
"The war on Taris has been going on for too long and recently; I have evidence of your violation of several of our agreements regarding how you conduct warfare on the pla. As such, the Sith is to leave Taris within the next 2 months or else I will pay a visit to Korriban myself." said Daimon. The Sith Emperor was about to respond but was interrupted by Daimon.
"Now, I am not an unreasonable person. So, in exchange I will reimburse you for whatever resources you’re going to lose. Now, do we have a deal?"
"What abo....."
"Good," interrupted Daimon. The Sith Emperor sighed as there was nothing he could do. They weren’t ready yet to try and face the Emperor.
With that said and done, Daimon leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The war on Taris had indeed been going on for too long. And with the Jedi and Sith going at it on the surface, it was prone to become a larger conflict eventually.
He wanted to put an end to it before he went on his trip to look for the Chiss. The Jedi pulling out of the conflict and then crash landing within the Imperial zone of control was the perfect opportunity to finally do this.
Reviews
All reviews (0)