Chapter 5

Colonel Avery Sloan walked around the dinner turned impromptu conference table. Colonel Sloan had already spent the last three hours going over the minute details of the Holo Base attack and the options available to those aboard the Renaissance. Sloan was a rail thin man with dry, straw-like brown hair. His nose was a size too large for his face, taking attention away from his watery blue eyes. Avery kept his uniform perfectly pressed; the creases almost sharp enough to be used as weapons. Every other component of his command was handled with the same precise following of military doctrine, as was quickly becoming evident to Rian and Jace. The attack on Holo Base had moved up the timeframe for the Rebellion’s activity in the Rious Cluster. The break from his orders had sent Sloan into a near frantic state. According to his well-planned details, he was supposed to arrive at Holo Base and have the Renaissance fully stocked with supplies before leaving for the Rious Cluster. Now he was fully manned, but dangerously low on supplies. The Empire’s attack had been a costly one indeed.

Avery’s lip trembled a little as he paced around the table. The fact that the Imperials had discovered Holo Base disturbed him greatly, and he would continue to decipher how they had learned the location of the Alliance base, but there were more pressing details to deal with. What disturbed him even more though was the break in his plans. He had spent a full week planning on his order of actions when he got to Holo Base. This change meant he would have to replan every action in his operations. Avery preferred to have everything logged into a planner. It was the only way to fully use the potential of every situation. “I think we all are in agreement that we are in serious need of supplies. What are our options here?”

Rian stretched and rubbed his eyes for the thirty-eighth time. “Sir, I think we’re all in agreement that the Vasper spaceport is our best option at this time.”

Avery shook his head. “And I already discussed how I am unwilling to work with that den of smugglers.”

“Just because it’s located in the Outer Rim doesn’t mean its full of pirates. We have sympathizers there. Any other source of supplies that close to the Rious Cluster is going to bring us into more Imperial conflict.”

“That’s quite enough Captain Ikner. We’ll discuss this matter further in twelve hours.” The three seated men sighed almost in unison. “Get some rest gentlemen, hopefully you’ll come up with some fresh ideas.” As the men rose up out of their chairs, Avery added the next meeting onto the day planner program on his datapad.

Cron Sar Teas slid out of the water and pushed himself to his feet. The airtight backpack that was strapped tightly to him carried his blaster and other gear. He blinked a few times, getting his vision used to the pale lighting of the cavern. The cave walls had a number of lights bolted onto them, but still struggled to light the entire underground facility. His team surfaced behind him, two of the members helping a third out of the watery entrance. Ara Kev Atlan had been hit by a stormtrooper’s blaster fire during their last raid. The Empire’s forces were much more alert lately, a sure sign that the Volmi resistance was beginning to have an effect. The rest of the strike team began to immediately start first aid on Ara. Cron tried not to look at the blood spilling out of the woman’s chest. Even if he wanted to kneel beside her, hold her hand, and tell her everything was going to be all right, he still had work to do. Ara had been with the team the longest. She was the heart that held them together when the odds were the bleakest. In her moment of need, Cron was walking away from her. Never in his life had he felt so low.

Cron jogged across the room and punched in the four-digit security code, making the thick door slide open with a hiss. The inside of the room only contained a chair, and a computer/com unit. Cron was already sitting in the chair and typing in his passwords when the door slid closed. Lont Ress Callum’s face came upon the monitor. The older Volmi’s skin was beginning to grey and harden around his eyes and mouth. Cron didn’t waste any time once the connection was made. “Sir, withdraw at once. The Imperials are ready for your attack. There are white shells all over that plaza. If you send a team in, you’ll be sending them to their death.”

Callum’s features grew grave. He glanced over his shoulder and barked out, “Pull the men out now! You heard him!” A compliance was mutely heard over Cron’s com. To keep security tight, the Volmar resistance was run on a cell system. There were only ten men who actually knew that Lont Ress Callum was the pioneer of the resistance. Cron considered himself lucky to know the man and his secret position. Callum had built the blue prints for the revolution and was the driving force behind its every move. Lont looked over his shoulder, obviously listening to someone outside the vidcom’s view. As he turned back to face Cron his mouth was drawn tight. “Thank you Commander. We did manage to pull out, but I believe the casualties will already be more then we can afford. It seems the Imperials are finally reacting to our actions. I hoped it would have taken them longer.”

“Sir, I hate to cut things brief, but I have some injured to tend to myself.”

Callum nodded. “Of course Cron, send me a full report when everyone is stabilized.” Cron nodded and flicked off the computer before sprinting out the door. Even though he was worried about Ara, he knew there would be more then one of Volmi fighter injured today. He wondered how much more blood his people would have to shed to be free.

Zwick Staamas sat at the long table in the mess hall. A steaming bowl of oat mash sat before him and he tried his best to spoon the almost tasteless paste into his mouth. He would have preferred a couple eggs, or even a little fried up nerf; but the ship’s supplies were frightfully low. Once he had docked his X-Wing he and most of the other pilots had immediately crashed in their new quarters. To his knowledge they were all still sleeping. The sound of heels clicking on the floor echoed through the room. Zwick raised his gaze from the bowl of lumpy grey breakfast and set his eyes on the newcomer. Mekita D’Amico stood before him. Like him, she was still wearing the bright orange flight suit of a Rebel pilot. As she noticed Zwick’s gaze fall upon her she locked up and threw a salute. Zwick’s spoon fell soundlessly into the oat mash as he sighed. “Mekita there is really no need for that right now.”

Mekita dropped the salute with a little hesitation. “If you say so sir, I...”

“I thought I told you not to call me that.”

Again Mekita tried not to fumble, but failed anyway. The Rebels lack of discipline of was still impossible to get used to. “I was looking for Captain Ikner but I..”

“Rian just got to hit his bunk an hour ago. What can I do for you?”

“I think we should set up patrols if we are going to just sit dead in space here.”

Zwick stirred the mash as she spoke and nodded. “Under normal circumstances I’d agree. At the moment we can’t waste the fuel. So given those mission perimeters what would you suggest?”

“We could set up a revolving standby schedule. Each flight could be assigned eight-hour shifts. At least then one flight would be ready to further investigate any disturbances.”

Zwick nodded again. “Good plan. You have your comlink on you?”

“Of course sir.”

Zwick rolled his eyes. “Great. Your flight is on first, then mine, and then the Captain’s. I’ll pass it on to the bridge so they know who to contact, you pass it on to your troops.”

Mekita smiled. “Thank you sir. I’ll pass that on to my pilots.” Slipping back into her military bearing she fired off a rigid salute and spun around with a facing movement. Zwick tried not to laugh as he watched the ex-Imperial walk out of the chow hall.

Nihil sat perched atop the aft of Shiel’s X-Wing clamping small voltmeters onto half-fried wires that rested inside the charred remains of the upper engines. Nihil grunted a little as the results sprawled across the read out. On the port side of the craft Ash climbed up and shot Nihil a questioning glance. Ash was dressed in a mechanic’s jumpsuit dirtied with oil and other assorted grime. His skin was the same dark color as fresh caf. His body stocky with well defined muscle. His head was shaved bald and his pate caught the hanger’s lights. “Let me guess, we’ll have to replace all the relays?” Ash’s voice rumbled deep in his chest, even when his words were good-natured.

“Everything is fried. We have to replace the whole thing.” Due to the small speaker, Nihil’s voice echoed in the hanger. The Luvium had offered his mechanical knowledge to Ash an hour ago and the swamped mechanic was more then happy to have an extra set of hands. Since then they’d been very busy, and a friendship was slowly bonding.

Ash kicked his boot heel into the charred engine. “Well, lovely. This crate isn’t going anywhere until we get supplies then.”

Nihil shook his head. “Not even out of the gate and we’re down two X-Wings.”

Ash laughed. “We’ll get supplies soon enough. Come on; let’s get some breakfast. After that we can give our report. We’ll probably have to siphon the fuel off the dead wings. That’s if you still want to help. Man, I’m already taking advantage of you.”

Nihil laughed and slid to the floor. “It’s not ‘cause I like helping, it’s self-preservation. You’re the only one who can fix my breather mask.” Ash dropped down next to him laughing. The duo headed to the mess hall, where breakfast would cause them to stop laughing.

Dara leaned against the cold metal wall as hot water poured over her body. The Renaissance’s refresher station housed four showers and an equal number of sinks and toilets. The only draw back is they were all housed in the same building. To keep unwanted intrusions to a minimum the door was outfitted with a screen that with a flip of a button either read, “Unoccupied”, “Occupied Male”, or “Occupied Female.” Because of that screen Dara gave it no thought when she heard the door slide open. She had been in battle before, it was the origin of her deformity, but she had never been piloting a starfighter in battle. Even with more then twelve hours passing the tension still lingered in her muscles. At least until the hot water did it’s best to drive it away. Someone cleared their throat and Dara pulled herself out of her fog to get a look at the intruder. She glanced over the shower stall door only to see Cooper smiling back at her.

Skeng shot a smile over the door. “I’ll scrub your back if you do mine.”

Dara repressed the urge to scream at the Carthain and returned the smile. “Well since you put it that way Cooper. Come on in.”

While it had seemed impossible, Skeng’s grin sprawled even further across his features. As he slid the shower stall open he noticed Dara had wrapped herself with a towel. The Twi'lek pressed herself close to him, her damp cheek rubbed against his as she placed her hands on his still clothed chest. The steam rising up from the hot water seemed to make the skin even more aware of the slightest contact. “Skeng, there is something I want to tell you,” Dara whispered into his ear as a hand slid down his chest. Her hand latched onto the crotch of his pants with enough force to cause him to jump. Her voice quickly shifted from husky whisper to angry threat. “Try something like this again Cooper, and you’ll never have trouble hitting high notes.”

Unable to move away Skeng nodded twice. His lips slipped open the slightest amount in anticipation of his forthcoming retort when a third person’s voice interrupted the scene. Both pilots looked to the door and immediately noticed Mekita in its frame. She was dressed in the bright orange flight suit of the New Republic, although her life support equipment wasn’t yet on. She looked the two over a moment, the hiss of the shower the only sound in the room. “For the next eight hours we are on stand bye. Suit up when you two are finished.”

Realizing where her hand was still attached to, Dara let it drop back to her side. “Mekita, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

D’Amico’s back disappeared through the door. Her voice trailing behind her. “I really don’t want to know the details Dara.”

Dara leaned back against the wall as the door slid shut again. She let out a long sigh of frustration and looked up. Skeng smiled back at her. Shaking her head tail she grabbed a spare towel and threw it at his face. “Skeng get out of here so I can get changed.” The Carthain’s laughter lingered in the room long after he had left her with her privacy.

The sky of Volmar lit up with blaster fire. Two Imperial TIE fighters made another pass at the large shell-like building and spat six more volleys of green energy into it. Already the building was ready to crumble. Smoke rolled out of gaping holes, blaster fire had charred large portions of the once white surface dark black, and rubble fell from it the sky in a deadly rain. Captain Ven Sheerk watched the ordeal through a pair of macrobinoculars. Two squads of his troopers moved closer on the building, gunning down any who tried to rush out onto the street. Already the pavement was littered with Volmi corpses. The air grew still. The impending doom became a crushing force upon those in the building. One of the walls exploded with no warning. Sheerk noticed his men taking cover immediately. Before the dust could clear a speeder streaked out of the gaping maw the explosion created. The speeder was a larger one, the crew compartment looked to hold four easily. On the rear of it was a manned quad-laser turret. A Volmi soldier sat in the turret, with only a few inches of transparisteel keeping him alive. The speeder didn’t slow as it slid over the street though, the engines roared even louder as it tried to escape the surroundings.

Behind his helmet Sheerk smiled. They were running. He had expected it of course, even hoped they would. He clicked on the com unit built into his helmet and addressed his troops. “Flanks two and three fall back and let the speeder through. All of you take cover from the quad fire and keep your blasters on the building.” The speeder rushed through the opening on the road, quick to distance itself from the firefight. Red blaster bolts trailed in its wake as the gunner tried to take a few Imperial troopers while they retreated. The laser blasts all went wide, creating even more destruction in the area. Ven looked over his shoulder at the men awaiting his orders. A cruel gleam sparkled in his eye as he spoke, “Sergeant, engage at will.”

His words were punctuated by the humming of speeder bike engines. An almost mechanical “Yes sir,” came from the scout trooper before the speeder bikes shot past him. Sheerk watched delighted as the six bikes maneuvered through the city street as if everything else in the city was moving in slow motion. He had released his wolves and soon they would feast on the lower animals. For that’s all the Volmi were, lower animals. The resistance movement was infuriating, but it would not last long. The animals would be crushed under Imperial heels until those remaining were again loyal as lap dogs. Ven began strolling towards the fire-gutted building. His loyal bodyguards followed closely with him. His eyes scanned every detail as he approached. The TIE fighters had purposely did some collateral damage to the neighboring buildings, but those housed in them were still too afraid to do anything about it while they thought the battle was still raging outside. It was a lesson they would have to learn. Anyone near the resistance will be punished. The Volmi cells were impossible for his men to crack and he had yet to find a Volmi he trusted enough to become a mole for the Empire. There best strategy was to scare the populace so badly they wouldn’t help or join the freedom fighters.

As he reached a land speeder his men had been using as a breastwork his com crackled in his helmet. “Sir, the fleeing land speeder has been neutralized. There were no survivors.”

“Excellent Sergeant. Lead your men back to base, I expect a full report later tonight.” Sheerk looked down to the trooper holding a bead on the buildings entrance. “All flanks cover the building. I’ll be going in personally with my unit.” A chorus of acknowledgements rang in his ear as the flank commanders sounded off. He gave it little thought as he upholstered his blaster and moved towards the smoking building. Looking down the road he saw wisps of black smoke, the result of his men’s attack on the fleeing land speeder no doubt.

The journey through the building itself was all but uneventful. The interior was scattered with debris, many of the walls had fallen, and blood was splattered around various areas like cheap surplus paint. Sheerk and his men stepped over Volmi bodies with the same disinterest as they did the rest of the rubble. It took awhile for his troopers to find their goal. In fact they had to work their way further into the building then they had thought they would. Finally though Sheerk heard one of his men shouting, “Sir, over here! I found one!”

Sheerk jogged through a blackened hallway and entered what appeared to be an office. One of his stormtroopers was shining a light on the floor. In the center of the light was a Volmi male. The Volmi was laying in the middle the remains of a rather large desk. Plastics and metals were melted down into unidentifiable lumps, much of the wood was burnt and shattered, and one long, jagged piece came up through the Volmi’s back and exited through his stomach. The man was still breathing and from his facial expression even that was extremely painful. Blood bubbled out of his mouth as he wheezed for air. Ven kneeled down and removed his helmet. To even talk to the pathetic creature beside him like a human took an effort, but it was his only chance at breaking into the resistance cells. Ven forced his face to stop from sneering as he addressed the Volmi. “You’re in pain my friend. I’m in a position to take that pain away from you if you’re willing to help us.” The Volmi opened his eyes and stared up at Ven. A slight moan escaped his lips and Ven looked at the board impaling him. “Yes, I know. Join us and let me take the pain away.”

Using his last ounces of strength the Volmi forced himself up a few more inches. Ven watched closely as he struggled to speak. There was a hint of a smile seconds before the Volmi’s lips parted and a mouthful of blood quickly closed the distance between them and splattered in Ven’s face. Outraged, Captain Sheerk jumped to feet the instant the sanguine laden spit splashed across his face. His blaster was in his hands before he even realized he was in control of it. The gun spit red death in hot volleys. The Volmi shook with spasms as bolt after bolt burnt its way into his body. All of Sheerk’s personal unit were surrounding him by the time his anger finally seeped out of him and his finger stopped repeatedly beating the trigger of his blaster. The Volmi was an unrecognizable stain on the ruined desk by that time. Ven wiped his face clean and put his helmet back on as he headed for the exit. His men said nothing, but simply followed.

After two hours, Colonel Avery Sloan finally gave in. It was inevitable, their only chance to get supplies and stay somewhat on schedule. The last thing he wanted to do was to deal with smugglers and other fringe types, but he could find no other options. Around the table and watching him closely were Captains Ikner, Darkmere, and Sardina. “Okay gentlemen. It looks like we’ll have to begin making plans for dealing with the suppliers on Vasper spaceport.” Jace almost spit out the caff he was sipping and Rian blinked a few times not sure he had actually heard Sloan give in. “Captain Sardina, while we’re discussing our landing party, could you have your crew set a course for Vasper? Once you have an ETA on our destination please get back to us.”

“Of course Colonel.”

Sloan smiled to himself as he watched Sardina leave the table. “Well Captain Ikner, since this was essentially your idea, who did you have in mind?”

Rian straightened up in his chair and took a sip of the steaming caff in the mug in front of him. “Captain Darkmere and I decided a five person team would be safest. Well Dara Lin’S…”

Rian wasn’t even able to finish the first name. “Lin’Say?” Sloan’s eyes scoured the screen on his data pad. “She was a smuggler herself wasn’t she?”

Rian nodded slowly. “Yes sir. If any of us could negotiate the fairest deal it would be her.”

From the look in his eyes, it was obvious that Avery wasn’t happy with the choice, but it made sense. “Fine, she is acceptable. Your other choices?”

“Well Mekita D’Amico and Skeng Cooper from my squadron and then Tami Corez and Raynor Vance from Captain Darkmere’s Void Spiders.”

“Captain. Let me get this straight. You’re sending the conman and the smuggler down with a large sum of money to buy supplies. Am I the only one who doesn’t see them leaving us high and dry?”

“With all due respect sir, I believe both are trust worthy individuals. Even if there is any doubt, D’Amico is in charge of the mission. Her rigid military bearing should be enough to keep everyone inline.”

“D’Amico. Yes. She is the ex-Imperial pilot is she not?”

“Yes sir. The one who turned over a proto-type starship over to the Alliance and has already proven herself in battle. I don’t think her background should be an issue”

“So you do not believe her to be the security leak at Holo Base?”

“No sir I do not. I don’t know how the Empire found us there, but I have all the confidence in my people.”

“You’re too trusting Captain Ikner, it will be your downfall. But if that is your team you want, so be it. Gather them up and start your briefing. I’ll have Captain Sardina give you the ETA as soon as he returns.”

Halla Caster lay in her bunk and stared at the ceiling above her. At the moment she had no idea where in space they were floating. That alone was enough to annoy her, what made it even worse was that Jace had been in endless meeting after meeting. Jace was her primary means of information and since they arrived on the Renaissance she had only seen him for a handful of minutes. A shadow of uncertainty crept upon her thoughts. She didn’t actually miss him did she? That was impossible, he was only a tool to get the things she needed. Yet, the idea wasn’t as easily dismissed, as she wanted it to be. She slid out her bunk and headed for the hallways. She needed to take a walk and clear her mind. Things were becoming more complicated by the second and she needed to focus.