The Corellian League Back Story - Chapter One - Part 13

The dull hum of the elevator filled the audible sensors of his helmet and the subtle tug of gravity pulled at his feet as Theydon and his Republic Trooper squad ascended the spire. At his side Corporal Connor was noticeably listing, propped up by young Wes Colton, the Jedi Consular maintaining a constant hold on the wounded trooper’s shoulder.

The elevator door slid upward with a slight mechanical grind and hiss, and the squad emerged into the small foyer leading to the transparent flybridge. Dashing forward, Theydon moved a dozen or so paces onto the flybridge, then stopped and snapped his eyes towards the larger, central spire. His gaze drifted up, and from this angle he could still make out the fuselage of their Thunderclap.

A bit of good fortune. He allowed himself a slight sigh of relief.

The trooper also noted the absence of the Fair Game. His lip twitched…Never trust a smuggler, he reminded himself.

“Private Andohar.” He pointed toward their vessel. “Power up the Valiant…I want her ready to touch down on the private landing pad atop this tower in five minutes.”

“Awfully cramped quarters, Lieutenant,” the private answered through Comm-link, reticence overwhelming his tone.

“Get it done…or you can ride home with the Sith.”

Andohar slung his rifle and pulled a datapad from his pack. A dozen key strokes later and the Valiant’s vertical, maneuvering thrusters fired. Slowly, the Republic vessel lifted from the landing pad and began a metered drift up and away from the landing pad.

Then, several ships moving at supersonic speed, raced overhead, a deafening boom following in their wake. Three Imperial X-70B Phantoms rocketed through the municipal enclosure, angling between the spires and the primary hub, their laser cannons opening fire.

There was nothing Andohar could do.

The Thunderclap was as maneuverable as a rock hovering there. There would be no evasion…no chance to bring weapons to bear. Several searing beams of laser fire struck the Republic vessel, nearly shearing it in two. A cascade of explosions rippled down the fuselage, leading to a final detonation as the hyperdrive engines vaporized.

The troopers recoiled back as the explosion forced back the darkness and the shockwave violently shook the flybridge. Theydon watched in dismay as the few remaining fragments of the Valiant tumbled discordantly over the edge of the spire and disappeared into the darkness far below.

Stunned silence hung over the squad’s Comm-link, and the Lieutenant’s mind was immediately twisting and turning through the tactical malaise. But even as he grappled with the impossibility of their next action, he had the presence of mind to note the approaching sound of the three Phantoms. Above them, the muzzles of the laser cannons flashed again, and a barrage struck the side of the municipal hub behind them. The flybridge shook violently, and the halogen running lights flickered. Rubble crashed down in the foyer they had just passed through, and a long, distressing groan echoed through the flybridge.

“RUN!” Theydon yelled through the Comm-link, as he began to race toward the archive spire at the far end of the bridge. From his peripheral vision he followed the glow of the Phantom’s as they moved away from the complex and banked into a rapid turn.

He barked again into the Comm-link. “Incoming!”

Another barrage of laser fire rained down on them, this time striking the flybridge directly. Plastoid melted away and metal splintered like wood. The support struts attaching the flybridge to the archival spire held…but it would only be moments before they gave out completely. Behind the squad the bridge split in two, and the section attached to the main hub building crumbled apart and crashed to the ground below.

They were close now, but their approach to the spire foyer became an angled climb as the struts began to bend and give way. Theydon was but paces from the end of the crossing and with a final, desperate leap, he reached the safety of the foyer. Instinctively, he spun about and thrust out his arm. Dre was still clinging to Wes’s shoulder, and he tossed his blaster aside, reaching out even as he felt the flybridge giving way beneath him. The Corporal latched onto Theydon’s wrist, and it was only then that Wes released his hold on the wounded trooper.

As the Lieutenant pulled Dre up and onto the foyer landing, Wes catapulted himself up and away from the quickly disintegrating bridge. He twisted midair such that he landed squarely on his feet and facing the rest of the squad. Thrusting out both hands, Wes manipulated the force about the twisting, groaning metal, crying out as he fought to keep it aloft just a moment longer.

Several of the troopers struggled upward and managed to reach the safety of the foyer landing. Private Andohar, though, was forced to his knees, the incline of the slowly collapsing bridge becoming too severe.

“I cannot hold it!” Wes gasped, as he fell to his knees. Every muscle and tendon in his hands trembled violently, his knuckles building white.

The remaining struts gave way, and in a moment of sheer terror, Andohar cried out through the Comm-link. “Help me!!”

Wes released his hold on the falling flybridge and tried desperately to grab hold of the trooper. But there was no time, and he was far too weak. The remnants of the flybridge spiraled away into the darkness, Andohar’s screams through the Comm-link following in its wake.

The Jedi fell back onto his haunches, chest heaving and face twisted in grief.

“No time for that, Master Jedi.” Theydon stood and fought to maintain an aura of calm and resilience. “We must find our comrades and find another means of escape.”

His men were exhausted, their wills tapped.

But he would be damned if they were to lie down and die.

Not here.

Not now.

Karissa approached the fallen Jedi cautiously, steps laden with years of dark intuition. Bel lay face down, arms splayed wide and small tendrils of smoke rising from the two holes seared in the back of his robes. The Bounty Hunter hovered over the elder Consular for a long moment, finally nudging at his still body with her boot.

No movement.

Her pale Rattataki lips twisted into a devilish grin. “All too easy.”

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, a rush of wind and the sudden thrum of an igniting lightsaber reaching her ears. Instinctively she leaped back and away from the fallen Jedi, twisting about and then firing blindly over her shoulder.

Jaxon landed with a thud next to Bel, his lightsaber melting and drive two feet into the polished steel floor where his target had stood just a moment before. With a growl he tore the lightsaber free, just in time to deflect several more blaster shots from the Bounty Hunter.

The Jedi Knight’s eyes darted to Bel’s still form, his heart seizing at the sight of the old Consular’s lifeless form. With a snarl of anger his gaze snapped back toward the Rattataki, and he took several long strides toward her.

“Careful boy,” Karissa hissed. “I’ve put down my fare share of Jedi over the years…your master will not be the last.”

“He was not my master,” Jaxon said, a steeled, threatening edge to his tone. “He was my friend.”

“Makes no difference to me…withdraw or die.” She paused long enough to key a few buttons on a small control pad strapped to her wrist. Six HK droids emerged from the shadows behind her.

Jaxon’s lips twitched. “Coward.”

“Prepared,” she corrected. “Last chance.”

Jaxon stepped back to Bel’s side once again and assumed a defense posture. The Bounty Hunter rolled her eyes. “As you wish.” She keyed the control pad again and the HK’s lurched forward, a dozen blasters unleashing a torrent of plasma bolts. Jaxon’s lightsaber moved in a whirlwind of barely discernable motions, deflecting bolt upon bolt and sending them ricocheting throughout the archival chamber.

But with Jaxon’s resolute mindset to not withdraw and abandon Bel Drayson and weakened by his bout with the Zabrak Warrior, his fall was all but inevitable. First a plasma bolt tore through the flesh of his shoulder, and as he recoiled to the side, another struck his hip and then another his leg. Now on his knees the Jedi defiantly continued to strike out against the incoming blaster fire until another bolt struck his arm and sent his lightsaber spinning from his grasp. He struck the ground, the breath exploding from his chest, and even though the pain burned through him like searing fire, Jaxon propped himself up on his good arm and clawed his way toward the Bounty Hunter in futile rage.

“Fool,” she said and chuckled mockingly. She raised her blaster, prepared to finish off yet another hapless, righteous Jedi.

Suddenly the door to the archival chamber hissed upward at that very moment, and Lieutenant Theydon’s squad emerged, blasters primed. The Lieutenant did not hesitate, his hand motioning forward, giving the command to fire. A torrent of superheated plasma tore through the HK droids as they haplessly turned to meet their new adversaries.

Within seconds naught remained but sparking, shattered remnants of exterior plating and exposed circuitry.

Karissa flashed a final, insidious look at the Jedi before darting away once more for the solace of the shadows.

Theydon and Wes rushed to Jaxon’s side, kneeling down beside the wounded Jedi.

“Looks bad,” Theydon said, observing the multiple blaster fire wounds. “But I have seen Jedi survive worse.”

“Master Drayson is gone,” Wes added in stoic remorse, and he quietly whispered a prayer for the Force to welcome Bel into its waiting arms. “Master Rone…” Theydon said, gently nudging the Jedi Knight. “Where are the others?”

“Here,” Tormax answered as if on queue, emerging through the dwindling fires of the destroyed archival pillars. His gaze instantly fixed on the still form of Bel Drayson, his heart leaping into his throat. His gaze shifted to Perth, his friend’s face taking on a pale sheen, as he stumbled forward and collapsed to his knees beside the man he fondly knew as “Uncle.”

“I should not have left him…” Perth stammered through gritted teeth.

“It was his wish, my friend,” Tormax reminded. “I would be dead if you had not.”

Perth could only nod slightly in reply.

With a hand on Perth’s shoulder, Tormax offered Theydon a welcome smile.

“Good to see you, Warhead.”

“Likewise, Master Jedi…though I would have hoped for better circumstances. The Valiant has been destroyed…your smuggler is gone, and we cannot return to the complex hub.” Theydon scanned the archival chamber. “We must try and reach the bottom of this spire.”

“Impossible,” Tormax answered gravely. “The reactor is failing…we have very little time left.”

At last, Theydon began to concede that this may very well have been the end of the road. “It appears we have run out of options then, my friend.”

An undecipherable murmur bled through Jaxon’s lips.

Tormax knelt down beside him. “Jaxon…Jaxon…?”

“The…Bounty Hunter…” The Jedi Knight gasped before slipping into unconsciousness.

Tormax’s head snapped up. “Theydon…we must get to the roof…the Bounty Hunter must have a means of escape. It is our only hope.”

The trooper’s head nodded in eager affirmation. Tormax scooped up Jaxon’s limp forms in both arms, and brushing away the tears, Perth delicately followed suit with his former master.

Theydon motioned toward the entrance to the archival chamber. “Time is short people…let’s move.”

The saga continues... Chapter One - Part 14