Hubris
By Locke Sonjie
10311
Fiction for: Station Assault competition
Chapter 1: Plans
Consul’s Office
Temple of Sorrow
Sepros
The first thing Locke noticed was that Sang kept the office much more well-lit than Locke had. Whereas the previous Consul had preferred dim lighting, Sang preferred brighter, warm lights. They provided a stark contrast to the dark, almost black coloring of the floors and walls.
“Did you get these lights from Malik?” Locke asked, gesturing to the new lamps in the ceiling. “They look like something you would find in a greenhouse, rather than an office.”
Sang smiled. “They’ll have to do for now. I couldn’t have those depressing lights you used.”
Locke merely chuckled, or forced himself to. It was difficult to express any emotion, deeply immersed in the dark side as he was. He took a seat near the Consul’s desk, slowly relaxing his hold on the power. It dissipated a bit, the pain in his back returning, as if it had been numb this whole time. The dark side beckoned, just out of sight. It already seemed like an old friend.
“Why did you call me here?” Locke asked, his voice sounding more normal as he relaxed.
“As you know,” Sang began, “pirates were recently driven off Aeotheran.”
“Ah,” Locke said, “I believe the Summit has found their space station and are planning an assault soon.”
“Indeed, and that’s the problem,” Sang said, smiling slightly.
Locke wasn’t sure if he was making a joke. “Problem?” he asked.
Sang took a seat across from Locke, sighing as he sat down. “We lost a lot of soldiers driving them off Aeotheran.”
Locke nodded slowly. He was aware of the loss of life. “It seems our new leaders are a little…frivolous with our soldiers’ lives,” he answered. He never felt bad about speaking frankly to Sang. They had been through a lot.
The Consul nodded. “It was not necessary, and that’s why I want you to lead our operation against the pirate base.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Locke said, injecting a bit of sarcasm in his voice, “I don’t think the House leaders will appreciate that…”
“They won’t have a choice,” Sang said. “I don’t want us losing any more troops until we have to. And I know you and I see eye to eye on the value of their lives.”
“Right,” Locke agreed. At first, he was hesitant to do this, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to get back into action. The dark side had given him a gift, he would not squander it.
“I’ll do it, but they’re likely to have a heavily-defended station. I’ll need help.”
Sang cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m just going to call in a friend.”
Location: Redacted
Ship: Unidentified C-ROC Gozanti Cruiser
Somewhere in the Orian System
Eww, more of those lights, Locke thought as he walked along a narrow corridor on the freighter. Maybe Sang really did get them from Malik.
Malik’s ship didn’t have an official name in the Clan’s registry. It’s location wasn’t even officially listed. Locke had only been able to locate it because he had been given the coordinates at a prior date.
Why so secretive, Malik? He wondered.
He didn’t ask, however. Locke was here to get the Neti’s help, not to question his secrets.
“So, will you do it?” Locke asked.
Malik’s Neti body made even Locke feel short. He loomed over the Augur, but somehow, did not seem threatening. Locke thought it might be for more reason than that they had worked together so much in the past. Something about Malik just made others feel at ease.
I don’t sense the dark side around him at all, Locke thought. It was strange. In most Sadowans, it was quiet, but there. In Malik, it just…was not.
“I’ll help,” The Neti said in his strange, rumbling voice. “But how are we going to take command. Are we just going to walk in and say “Hi, we’re the Sons of Sadow, this is our operation now”?”
Locke stopped, leaning against a bulkhead, releasing his hold on the dark side slightly. He winced, but it was necessary if he was able to show any emotion. He forced a grin. “Actually, I was thinking you would do that, while I would be in my ship.”
“I see,” Malik said. “You have a lot of faith in me.”
“An Elder, a Son of Sadow, and a known war hero? Mention the Crusade and people start telling stories about you. I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”
“And where will you be?” Malik rumbled.
“I’ll be meeting with our enemy. Come on, I’ll lay it all out for you.”
Chapter 2: The Assault Begins
Hyperspace
Enroute to Kanjar VII
Malik stood on the bridge of the Pride of Dakhan, the flagship of House Shar Dakhan. The Strike Cruiser would be arriving near the seventh planet of the Kanjar system in moments.
“Captain, when we arrive, make sure that we coordinate with our fighters and escorts immediately. We’ll have to quickly establish a blockade if we want to prevent the enemy from escaping.”
The ship’s captain nodded. Of course, they had gone over all this before.
“Are you sure this will work?” Jurdan asked from beside Malik. “We could crush them quickly,” he said.
“Battlemaster,” Malik said, keeping all hints of sarcasm out of his voice, “you don’t trust me? If we just attack, we could walk into a trap. Much better for the plan we agreed on to go ahead. And we did agree.”
“If this doesn’t work quickly, I’m going in anyway,” Jurdan said. “They attacked us, landed on our world, killed our people.”
“Just wait,” Malik said patiently. Humans could be so hasty, especially the Dark Jedi among them.
Abruptly, a countdown timer chimed throughout the bridge. It counted down, verbally, in galactic basic: three…two…one…mark.
Hyperspace gave way to starlines, which further resolved into tiny dots. One of those dots quickly became a large, dark ball, and a millisecond later, a grey shape was visible in front of it: Kanjar VII and it’s moon, where the pirate’s base lay.
Exhaling deeply, Malik closed his eyes. He reached out to the fleet, coordinating each pilot and officer together. As he did so, each officer, each pilot, each soldier became an extension of himself, another tendon in a great beast.
Distantly, he heard a report from a bridge officer. “One transport is away. Blockade is forming up in orbit, directly over the enemy base.”
Control Center
Moon Base Vaknir
“They’re here!” Someone said. “I don’t think our evac ships can get past them! Commander Trak, what do we do?”
Bulig’nar Trak stood in the middle of the base’s small command center. One ancient glowbulb flickered above him, but it’s illumination still seemed centered on him. He watched the blue hologram that represented the area around the moon. The enemy was forming their blockade more quickly than he thought possible.
A shiver ran through the man. What if he had been wrong? No, it couldn’t be. He turned to his advisor, the shadowy man named Cru’ah, who wore his cloak all the way up. He was always like that. Bulig’nar was not sure he could trust the secretive man, but so far, all of his advice had proven useful.
“You said this would work. You assured me I would get my ship.”
“Ah, but have you failed yet?” Cru’ah said, speaking in his strange voice. It did not seem human. “No, uh…” Suddenly, Bulig’nar felt more calm, more assured. What did he have to fear? This would work.
“Prepare our defenses,” he said, finally.
Then the pirate who had spoken before did so again. “Commander, only one ship is approaching. They are requesting clearance to land and…negotiate.”
Bulig’nar eyed Cru’ah without turning his head, but he did not ask for advice. Trying to seem confident, he spoke aloud. “They know we have the crystals, but not where they are. They will not attack as long as we have this bargaining chip. Allow this visitor to land, and bring them to me.”
VT-49 Decimator Gemini Alpha
Approach to Moon Base Vaknir
Locke sat back in the power chair as his ship approached the pirate’s station. He would need to be persuasive if he was going to bring all of his abilities to bear. The dark side would, unfortunately, have made him seem too cold for the task.
He resented the hover chair, but silently acknowledged its usefulness. If he was fortunate, the pirates would find him less-threatening, and might underestimate him. That would be extremely useful.
The Augur sat inside the ship’s cargo bay, near the boarding ramp. The comlink in his ear chimed, and a moment later a droid voice spoke to him.
“Landing now, sir. Ramp descending.”
“Thank you, Wrex,” Locke said. “Keep the ship ready for departure.”
“Oh,” the droid began, voice modulator turning to a sarcastic tone. "On the off chance you end up shooting your way out?
Locke didn’t answer, ignoring the droid for now. He felt the ship land and watched as the boarding ramp descended. He guided the power chair out, finding that there was already a small group of pirates approaching the ramp. They were of varying species, and each one wielded a weapon. The way they shuffled their feet made them seem…agitated.
“Check him for weapons!” a Twi’lek ordered, gesturing with the blaster rifle he held.
“I only have my lightsaber,” Locke said, making his voice calm. “It’s here, on my left…”
He grunted as one of the pirates quickly fished it out of his robes. The pirate looked at it, grinned, and then held onto it.
“I’ll need that back when we’re done here,” Locke said in the same voice. He was calm; completely comfortable with the situation.
Of course, if they tried anything, he would be able to neutralize them in moments.
Maybe, he thought. Just because you have the Force doesn’t make you invincible. It was a lesson he had needed to learn the hard way.
“We’ll see,” the Twi’lek said. “Come!”
Locke guided his chair, following the Twi’lek. The other pirates fell in around him. He kept careful note of which held his lightsaber and where it was. He knew that he might need it, soon.
The group was silent as they passed through the moon base. Locke used the time to examine his surroundings. It was like many pirate bases. The wall paint was chipped and faded. The lights flickered. Maintenance panels were askew, or completely missing. Cables and tubes criss-crossed the floor of the corridor and in some places hung from the ceiling. He did have to admire the defenses. The pirates had E-Web blaster turrets stationed at chokepoints, as well as what seemed to be functioning blast doors. An assault would not be an easy prospect.
Finally, they passed into a much larger chamber. What once might have been a storage bay had been converted into a control center. Computer banks lined one wall, screens showing images in greens or blues. Servers stood in the middle of the room, at a perpendicular angle to the screens. Together they formed two walls of an imaginary triangle, with a large holographic display in the middle. That display currently showed the moon, the world of Kanjar VII, and the Dakhani ships that currently maintained their blockade over it.
One particular pirate stepped forward. He was slightly better-dressed than the others, and held himself with an air of authority.
“I am Bulig’nar Trak, and you are my prisoner,” he said. His voice gave off a sense of pride, but Locke could detect an uneasy undertone to it.
He isn’t sure about this, the Augur thought.
“I am a diplomatic envoy,” Locke answered. “You will find that my allies have you quite surrounded.”
"And if they attack, " Bulig’nar retorted quickly, “you will not find the crystals we took. They are well-hidden.”
Locke sighed, beginning his standard diplomatic approach. “And what is it you want?” Something tickled his mind, but he didn’t quite understand it at first. It distracted him from the pirate leader.
“That is the question, isn’t it?” the Bulig’nar replied. Locke only half listened to him. He focused on the others in the room. The three pirates who had led him here, the four guards scattered about, and the hooded one who seemed to be positioning himself behind Locke.
That’s odd, the Augur thought.
“Why does one of your men wear a hood?” he asked abruptly, ignoring Bulig’nar’s statement.
The room seemed to freeze for a moment, as if everyone was taking one, slow, collective breath. Then, Locke felt a surge in the Force.
The power chair flew forward as a powerful telekinetic blast hit it, and Locke flew with it. He let the dark side flood into him and instinct took over for a moment. He was going to hit the floor.
The Augur slammed into the floor on his chest and rolled onto his back. A voice came from his throat, though it was alien. “Bad idea,” it said coldly.
He flung out his hand, palm open toward his lightsaber. The weapon leapt from where it was attached to a pirate’s belt and into Locke’s hand. He ignited it, blade springing to life between himself and his attacker, sunfire against crimson as the hooded figure’s lightsaber came down on Locke’s. The figure pushed, letting out a growl.
It took quite a bit of the dark side’s power to resist that, even for a moment. Locke raised his free hand, stretching fingers toward his attacker. The hate came to him instantly and he let it flow, unabated. How dare this creature attack him? How dare he presume to get the best of Sadow?
Lightning leaped from the Augur’s fingertips, striking directly into the hooded pirate’s chest. The pirate growled more and leaped backward, out of the way of the short burst of lightning. He yanked back his hood, revealing a snarling, anger-filled expression.
More importantly, he revealed the horns that denoted him to be an Iktotchi.
“Cru’ah?” Bulig’nar questioned, surprise in his voice.
“Silence, human!” the Iktotchi snapped while Locke drew himself to his feet. “You!” Cru’ah continued, “you are their leader!”
“Not any more,” Locke answered, voice as cold as the depths of space. “Now I’m just the man who’s going to kill you.”
He sprung forward, lightsaber striking toward Cru’ah’s chest. The Iktotchi deflected it in a haphazard way, then counterattacked, nearly getting past Locke’s defenses. The Augur was surprised. He expected the Iktotchi to fight like a cornered rat, but that awkward, hasty parry did not match his enemy’s counter attack at all.
He’s using Niman, or some form of it.
They traded blows again. Locke struck toward the Iktotchi’s shoulder, but he deflected it, and then attempted an arcing swing that began awkwardly but led into a smooth motion. Locke side-stepped, spinning lightsaber in hand and pushing the sunfire blade down on his opponent’s, narrowly sending it away from his body. Cru’ah was not bad, but Locke never entertained the possibility of losing.
Suddenly, his opponent gestured with his free hand. Locke expected an attack via the Force, quickly flickering his eyes toward where Cru’ah gestured. Instead, he saw Bulig’nar.
“Our reinforcements! Now!” Cru’ah ordered.
Reinforcements? Locke wondered. He pushed the attack, not knowing what was coming.
Chapter 3: Unwelcome Surprises
An alarm blared on the Pride of Dakhan’s bridge. Malik recognized it instantly: unidentified contacts had just dropped out of hyperspace.
He did not need the crew’s reports to tell him what was happening. He was the crew, and they were extensions of his will. He saw through their eyes, felt their thoughts.
Three ships had arrived: two frigates, one cruiser. Malik opened his eyes, looking out the bridge view window as the ships approached. He saw the familiar, unique shape of two Nebulon-B frigates, and a third ship between them. The dagger-shaped hull was slimmer than the most well-known star destroyers, but it was a common hull-type. The Neti received its identification through his battle mind with the fleet: a Vindicator-class cruiser.
It was a fairly powerful squadron; perhaps a fair match for the Dakhani ships. However, the enemy forces did not have battle meditation.
“Who are they?” Jurdan asked, voicing the question that had been on Malik’s mind as well. “The pirates brought their fleet?”
“Not pirates,” Malik said, receiving information from the crew. The ships were too clean, too new, and their markings…
“Dominion,” he said.
“Who?” Jurdan asked.
“An enemy we’ve dealt with before. I’m sure you’ll be briefed. They are a strong foe, but we have the advantage.” They could not match his battle meditation. He guided the CNS fleet in, and at the same time, his mind reached across the void, connecting with the minds of those who opposed them. He filled them with dread, demoralizing them. “You have no chance,” he mumbled, but the thought ebbed into the minds of the Dominion personnel.
Then, his thoughts were rebuffed and turned on him. They seemed to push back, almost as if…
The Neti smiled. So, he had a counterpart among the enemy. Well, he doubted that they had the experience of thousands of years, as he had, nor the same solidarity with the Force.
If they want a fight, I’ll give them one.
Gathering all of his might, Malik pushed.
“Our fleet is holding,” Bulig’nar reported.
Cru’ah smiled. Locke leaped on his distraction, striking forward, first toward his shoulder, then his weapon-hand, then his leg. Each attack was deflected in a dizzying mix of precise and seemingly desperate parries.
The main issue, Locke decided, was that he couldn’t tell if Cru’ah was losing, or if this was just his style. Locke needed to end the Iktotchi, to finish the duel. The pirates had not gotten involved, but Locke needed to know what was going on with their forces.
A fleet? He thought. What is their game? It was no matter. Malik was an Elder, and had a powerful battle mind. His battle meditation was among the best Locke had experienced, and he trusted the Neti with not only his own life, but with those of the entire Warhost. Malik could handle the battle in space. Locke just needed to focus on what was in front of him: an Iktotchi Dark Jedi - a member of the First Caste of the Dominion.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. After their defeat at Agua’tah, the Dominion had retreated and gone quiet. There had not been another direct fleet engagement from them. Instead, they and Sadow had merely fought smaller, isolated engagements. A transport ambushed here; a stockpile destroyed there. This piracy operation, however - one that had extended into the Orian System itself - that was bold.
Cru’ah counter attacked. Locke kept his own weapon close to his body, purposely deflecting the Iktotchi’s attacks at the last possible moment, using the minimum amount of energy possible. He wasn’t about to let this Iktotchi wear him down, or expose a hole in his defenses. Cru’ah gave a knowing smile, as if he knew what Locke was thinking.
The Iktotchi stepped back, gesturing with his free hand. Locke felt the attack as it occurred; a pirate’s blaster ripped from his belt and sent hurtling toward the Augur. Locke sidestepped and cut it in half with his lightsaber, then turned toward Cru’ah just in time to block his next attack. Their weapons cackled together, locked with one another. Annoyance flickered across Locke’s thoughts, then he forced himself to smile.
“Telekinesis?” He growled. “I’ll show you Telekinesis!”
Locke knew he’d have to move quickly to break the 'saber lock. He sidestepped again, letting Cru’ah’s blade slide down his own. Then, when it was safely beyond his body, he spun his weapon away from Cru’ah’s. The Iktotchi likely expected a strike to his shoulder - and the standard forms would dictate Locke did such.
He was anything but standard.
The Augur stretched out his free hand, catching another blaster in it. He let the dark side guide his motions. The blaster came up and fired in the time it would have taken him to attack with his lightsaber. While Cru’ah expected to block a lightsaber blade, he received a blaster bolt. It caught him in the stomach, causing him to pause momentarily.
“So shortsighted,” Locke said. “This is why the Dominion will fall.”
It might have been a simple matter to decapitate the Iktotchi, but Locke waited. He would fall for no tricks. He held his lightsaber ready in one hand, discarding the blaster with the other. It was useless in his offhand - it had only worked in this situation because he hadn’t needed to aim.
Cru’ah’s hands covered his blaster wound. “But…”
“It’s not enough to simply understand how to use the Force,” Locke said. “But to use it in combination with other abilities. You are not a warrior. You are a child playing with tools you do not understand.”
Watching the Iktotchi carefully, Locke stepped forward. He aimed a quick slice toward Cru’ah’s shoulder. His enemy stumbled backward, unable to defend, grunting as he hit a row of computer consoles.
“It isn’t over,” he growled.
“For you, it is,” Locke’s cold voice answered.
Gathering the Force, Locke surged forward. In one lightning-fast motion, he removed Cru’ah’s head. Slowing, he turned back to the pirates, to Bulig’nar specifically. “Are you ready to negotiate now?”
The pirate merely nodded. The others said nothing.
“Good,” Locke said, “Then-”
Suddenly, one of the pirates sprinted from the room. Cursing, Locke gave chase.
It was like a dance - or at least, the way humans danced. Malik wielded the Sadowan forces like one gigantic beast. He would push somewhere, and the Dominion’s battle mind would defend, or push somewhere else. He would bolster his own allies’ courage, then attack the will of the enemy. At the same time, his opponent would defend, then strike at his own forces. It might be a broad strike, or target the beings on a specific ship. It was a complicated duel - as complex as any with a lightsaber. In his mind’s eye, Malik saw it as if two massive beings fought each other, surrounded by the void of space.
His was winning, but it was a battle of attrition. The Dominion were putting up quite a fight, but they could not match Malik’s abilities. Whereas they likely had an Iktotchi skilled in battle meditation and a different individual as a competent commander, Malik had studied both tactics and the Force. He could make decisions on the fly, without the need to coordinate with the ship’s crew. He was something the galaxy had rarely seen. What would the legends such as Ackbar done with this ability? What would the Jedi of the Old Republic have managed if they could lead their forces in this manner, instead of merely being elite warriors?
The galaxy might have been a very different place.
He knew that he had the Dominion fleet. Soon, they would be trapped. Then he would deliver the final blow. One last surge would crack their forces like frostbitten roots…
Wait, he thought, new information coming to his senses. He only distantly heard the bridge officer report near him; Malik already knew of the information he was reporting.
“Multiple transports leaving the moon surface! They’re breaking for the Dominion’s line!”
So, they would split his attention? Then he would just play another card.
“A-Wings,” he said quietly, just enough for the crew to hear. “From the Stalwart.” The carrier waited in reserve a short micro jump away. It always paid to have reinforcements, and Malik had the considerable clout to requisition the ship from its other duties.
The order given, it was mere moments before twelve arrowhead-shaped fighters appeared off the Pride’s bow. “Transports,” Malik said. The crew understood, and in his mind’s eye he saw the twelve new fighters shoot out after the escaping transports. With their agility, they would be on them faster than if he had just redirected the X-Wings of Searing Blade squadron. Besides, those fighters were needed for the main battle.
“If we had just attacked…” Jurdan said. “They wouldn’t be getting away!”
“Or they would be,” Malik answered, “and many of our soldiers would be dead. Patience. It will be over soon.”
