2.21.4787 Republic Reckoning

Oct 14 2003 PBEM

Quindo draws and aims his sidearm. Mouthing a silent, "Thank you Dabai", he shoots Nakael squarely in the back of the head. The Fallen Jedi crumples unconscious to the ground. Gathering up his former comrade, Quindo makes his way toward the sound of nearby trucks.

The canvas of the surrounding tents snapped vigorously in the rising wind, their supporting ropes alternately creaking and humming as the storm strained them first one direction, then another. The sun had not yet disappeared below the jagged horizon, but dark clouds spiraling in from all directions blotted it out just as effectively. Burning debris and the few unbroken halogen lamps scattered throughout the base provided fitful illumination, throwing dancing shadows across the rocky ground. Sporadic barks of gunfire continued to stalk the camp, punctuated by the heavy, dull thud of grenades and the occasional staccato roar of ammunition cooking off.

A stinging blizzard of sand and dust masked everything, almost scouring away the acrid stench of burning metals, plastics, and flesh. A few fat raindrops began to fall, driven sporadically across the compound.

A sharp gust caught Quindo Septon as he crossed a thoroughfare between two corrugated plastic shelters, causing him to stumble under the weight of the unconscious Sith he carried. He ignored the stinging wound across his ribs, though it threatened to pull open at the exertion. A pair of Sith swords, one still caked with his blood, were stuck through his belt. They dug painfully into his hip as he shifted his burden slightly and hurried to the shelter of the next alley. Though inconvenient, he could not leave the Sith artifacts behind, any more than he could have left Nakael. Behind his belt, he also carried the Fallen Jedi's lightsaber and a thick tome bound in a iridescent black, covered with the spidery runes of the Sith.

Making his way toward the growling sound of repulsorlift trucks, Quindo moved as quickly and silently as he was capable, avoiding the sounds of fighting and keeping to the shadows. The Force guided him past what his senses could not. Twice already, he had moved behind cover just in time to avoid patrols, one of Hutt soldiers and one of arachnid Sith battle drones.

Lightning suddenly crashed out of the still darkening sky, illuminating the boiling clouds above. Catching only the briefest glimpse of the ominous sky, Quindo realized that the sense of gathering unease that he was feeling was not just highly strung nerves. Above the camp, an inverted cone of spiraling thunderheads gathered, reeling in a mad waltz. Thunder growled, and lightning began striking the ground with uncanny regularity, drowning out the remaining sounds of battle. Still, only a spattering of raindrops fell from above. The Sith were taking action.

Still weary from his battle with Tvlashka and Nakael, Quindo focused inward, hardening his will against detection and attack. Perhaps it was just imagination, but it seemed that the lightning harassing the camp became less tenacious, less directed toward his location. Taking a moment to check Nakael's breathing, Quindo readjusted his one-time companion across his shoulder and continued his trek across the base.

Above the sounds of the storm came the rising whine of approaching engines. Looking up, Quindo could see nothing except clouds illuminated by the continuous lightning. Suddenly, a blaze of yellow light leapt from the ground, piercing the cover above, then another, and another. Bright flashes of red in the clouds stood out apart from the blue-white of the lightning strikes, but the sound of the explosions was lost in the pandemonium of the storm. Chunks of wreckage screamed down out of the sky, secondary flashes of orange and yellow illuminating the clouds above as they crashed on the Eastern side of the sprawling encampment.

Ignoring everything but the burden on his shoulder and the memory of the sound of trucks, Quindo moved to the end of the last alley before the killing grounds surrounding the perimeter of the camp. Catching a glimpse of two personnel carriers parked next to the guard station at the edge of camp, Quindo tensed for a moment and burst from cover. Trusting the Force to warn him of imminent danger, he raced across the cleared ground toward the idling trucks, trying not to stagger under Nakael's weight.

Someone in the truck must have seen him moving. A figure hopped out of the back. In the glare of a nearby lightning strike, the shape resolved into a Nikto male, dressed in the ragged clothes of a refugee and carrying a vicious looking assault carbine. As Quindo approached the vehicle, the refugee raised his rifle and barked a challenge in heavily accented Huttese. Even shouting, the storm drowned out most of the message, and the rest was lost in translation, but the gestures and intent were clear. Quindo lay Nakael on the ground at his feet and raised his hands, gesturing at the lightsaber he carried quite openly. The Nikto approached, making a cursory inspection of Quindo and glancing at Nakael.

" You are... Jedi?" , asked the Nikto in the harsh, clipped tones of his race.

" I am... a friend." , replied Quindo in slow, measured Huttese.

" Come" , barked the alien, turning to dash back to the idling truck. Gathering up Nakael, Quindo covered the last few meters to he waiting truck and lay the prone form gently into the back. The truck began pulling away even before Quindo vaulted into the covered interior.

Glancing around the bed of the vehicle, he could see close to a dozen shadowed forms huddled closely together. The smell of burnt flesh and fear filled the enclosed area. Reaching to his belt, Quindo unfastened a bulky zipper pack, and paused at an abrupt metallic click from his left. Turning to face the barrel of the Nikto's assault rifle, he moved slowly to hand the bundle to the glaring alien. Not able to remember the Huttese word for 'medicine', Quindo instead repeated the words for 'heal' and 'help'.

The Nikto opened the medical bag, rummaging quickly through the contents, and pulled out a package of plastic ampoules, and other small bag filled with pills and powders. Tossing the medical kit aside, the Nikto moved to pocket the drugs. Quindo took advantage of his momentary distraction to reach out and wrench to rifle from the alien's hands. Tossing it aside, Quindo raised his stun pistol and spoke very slowly, eyes blazing with anger. " I need that... to help... your... people. Give." Reaching into the Nikto's vest, he pulled out the drugs and had to resist an urge to pistol whip the glaring alien.

Appalled at his own burning anger, Quindo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and realized that he had lost the concentration that had been maintaining his mental shields. Taking a deep breath, he almost gagged at the stench in the truck. Unable to regain the calm needed to shield his mind, Quindo gave up and opened his eyes. Putting down his pistol, he gathered up his medical supplies and pulled out a single plastic ampoule. Pressing it to Nakael's temple, there was a sharp hiss, almost lost in the growl of the storm. Tossing aside the empty vial, Quindo began quickly moving among the refugees, binding wounds, distributing antibiotics, and soothing pain as quickly as possible. Before he had reached a third patient, the sudden clatter of automatic weapon fire sounded ahead of the truck, cutting through a momentary lull in the storm.

The truck slewed sideways and ground to a halt. Quindo leapt from the back of the vehicle and drew his lightsaber. Dashing around the stopped truck, he saw the lead truck, flipped over onto its side, being torn apart by a pair of Sith attack droids. Suddenly, among the carnage, a lightsaber flared blue, rising and falling in a deadly arc. The chatter of machine gun fire fell silent almost as quickly as it had begun. Quindo rushed toward the scene, arriving just in time to see To'iir climbing from the wreckage, helping a small boy out. " To'iir!" , called Quindo above the roar of the storm, " Where are the others?"

To'iir turned, facing Quindo across the shattered wreckage of the truck. Facing him, she dropped into a defensive stance, her lightsaber springing into her hand, flaring to brilliance before she had even grasped it. Turning quickly, Quindo dropped into a deflection stance to meet whatever threat was approaching from behind. As he brought his saber up before him, he saw no obvious dangers, and as quickly realized what was going on. The lightsaber in his hands was not his familiar violet-blue blade. Somehow, in the confusion, he had grasped Nakael's red saber instead of his own. Dropping his guard, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, Quindo turned back toward To'iir to explain.

Rising from the smoke of the wreckage, sensors glowing an angry red, one of the attack droids raised an arm and drew a bead on To'iir's back. " NO!" screamed Quindo. Reaching out with the force, he thrust the droid's arm violently aside as it flared orange. The heavy blaster bolt burned a meter long crater in the ground next to To'iir's feet as she pivoted smoothly and chopped the main body of the droid in half.

Scanning the surrounding terrain for more droids, Quindo quickly deactivated the Sith saber and buried it deeply into a side pocket. Drawing is own, familiar blade, he crossed the last few meters over rocky ground littered with wreckage to join To'iir. Raising his voice to be heard above the storm, he shouted, " Didn't meet to scare you. I grabbed Nakael's saber by mistake. I'm glad you're here!"

To'iir's eyes narrowed briefly. Rather than trying to be heard above the rumbling thunder, she reached out with her mind, WHAT IS YOUR ROLE IN ALL THIS?

Quindo replied in kind. I'M DOING MY BEST TO MINIMIZE CASUALTIES. BEYOND THAT, IT'S A LONG STORY. YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO TRUST ME. To'iir did not seem very convinced, but there were other matters at hand. HELP ME GET THESE PEOPLE OUT OF HERE. IS THE OTHER TRUCK FUNCTIONAL?

I THINK SO. THE DRIVER WAS JUST SPOOKED. AS LONG AS WE DON'T RUN INTO ANY MORE OF THESE DROIDS. I THOUGHT YOU'D GOTTEN THEM ALL, WHERE DID THAT ONE COME FROM?

To'iir shrugged as she moved among the wounded, directing the least injured to help the others back toward the waiting repulsorlift carrier, IT WAS ONE OF THE FIRST TWO. MUST NOT HAVE BEEN DISABLED AS THOROUGHLY AS I THOUGHT. YOU SAID NAKAEL'S LIGHTSABER. HOW DID YOU COME BY THAT? IS HE...

Quindo interrupted before she had a chance to complete the thought, HE'S FINE. HE'S IN THE OTHER TRUCK. I DRUGGED HIM, SO HE SHOULD BE OUT FOR ABOUT FOUR HOURS. I'LL TELL YOU ALL ABOUT IT LATER. CAN YOU TAKE THESE PEOPLE SOMEWHERE SAFE? I HAVE A DISTINCT FEELING THAT I NEED TO GET BACK TO THAT CAMP.

As she helped the last of the refugees into the waiting vehicle, To'iir turned to her one-time student. She placed her hand briefly on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. I THINK WE ARE ALL IN FOR A LONG TALK AFTER THIS IS OVER. NOW GO DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO.

She hopped up into the truck and thumped hard against the side, signaling the driver. Shifting into gear, it slid away, picking up speed gradually and kicking up a fantail of gravel and sand. Pausing a moment to watch it disappear over a ridge in the barren landscape, Quindo took a deep breath and nearly choked on the grit in the air.

Two black arachnid forms rose from the wreckage of the first truck. One turned and raced off in the direction of the refugees while the other pivoted a tail mounted turret in Quindo's direction. A low thud, barely audible above the storm, coincided with a muted flash from the turret. He threw himself to the side as a grenade round exploded nearby, raking him with shrapnel. Simultaneously, one of the droid's arms tracked after him, stitching the ground with blaster fire.

Gathering his energies, Quindo flung a desperate mental cry toward To'iir as he rolled behind a rocky rise. THEY'RE SELF-REPAIRING!!

Quindo rose to a couch, readying his lightsaber as blood oozed from small abrasions on his forearms and cheek. He ducked lower, pulling a grenade from his belt, as another round exploded nearby. Tossing it over the hillock, Quindo rose swiftly from his crouch, directly into the stream of incoming blaster bolts. His lightsaber whirled around him, returning two of the barrage and blocking the rest. The droid's torso disintegrated as the ammo chamber of grenades detonated from a direct hit. Without pause, he hurried forward and cut the remaining pieces into slag.

He prepared to sprint after the second droid, and stopped as reassurance flowed into him from To'iir. THANKS FOR THE WARNING QUINDO. I GOT IT LONG BEFORE IT CLOSED WITH THE TRUCK. CATCH UP WHEN YOU CAN.

Racing back toward the demolished and burning camp, Quindo probed gently for familiar mental signatures. Unburdened now, he passed swiftly across the cratered wasteland, closely skirting the base. Paradoxically, as he ran, he felt the weariness draining out of body. A renewing energy flowed into him as his awareness settled into the rhythmic motion of his pounding feet and pumping lungs. All too soon, he came over a slight rise to see the smoking remains of a crashed aircraft. He slowed, feeling exhaustion creep back into his muscles as he scanned the area for survivors.

Approaching the still smoldering heap of twisted metal, Quindo could see another crashed ship buried in the remains of a corrugated metal building well inside the camp. An abrupt twinge of familiarity tweaked his senses at the same moment a knot of humanoid shapes moved out of the sheltering cluster of temporary housing. Quindo shot a mental query across the intervening distance, IGASHU?

Silhouetted by the glow of still burning wreckage, a figure raised an arm and waved it vigorously over it's head, QUINDO! YOU MADE IT! YOU'RE NOT EVIL YET ARE YOU?

Laughing, Quindo ran to join his friends.

Meanwhile: After the crash, Igashu destroys the first droid that pokes its head into the rubble. While the group focuses on pulling survivors out of the wreckage, Elbram notices that the droid is repairing itself and they all help chop it into little pieces.

After organizing the survivors and issuing heavy weapons, the group makes their way toward the second crashed Pennace. It's swarming with Sith battle droids. They're pulling apart anything mechanical to improve their weaponry.

Igashu senses two survivors in the wreckage, which eliminates the plan to bombard the wreck with mortars and rockets from a distance. A new plan forms. Dabai gathers Hutt troops and heavy weapons and lays an ambush, while Igashu decides to bait the droids with a tasty flamethrower he finds. Reasoning that the droids will chase a new weapon, Igashu stealths towards the crashed Pennace and get within 20 meters. Then he jumps up and down and fires the flamethrower in the air, singing " Yummy Flamethrower!" .

All 4 droids take off in hot pursuit, Igashu fleeing toward the ambush site, his brass balls clanging with every step. Bullets and blaster fire chew up the ground at his feet and on both sides, only coming close enough to graze a leg without doing any actual damage.

Suddenly, the Hutt troops and Dabai fire from cover, destroying 2 driods with man portable rocket launchers. Elbram jumps into the fray as Igashu drops the flamethower and turns to bring up his lightsaber. Elbram cuts one droid completely in half with one lucky blow. The last surviving droid sprays the area with gunfire and manages to kill one Hutt trooper who didn't know the meaning of the word " cover" .

In very short order, the last droid is killed, and all the pieces carved up into tiny chunks of metal.

They head back toward the first Pennace with the survivors, and meet up with Quindo.

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