"Huh." Narec frowned. "And you trust your source?"
The two of them looked at each other. "Yes, sir. The Zygerrian's have no love for the Federation out here, and our friend has been well paid."
...
"Well, let me know if anything changes." He then hung up. It seemed like the enemy fleet commander was hesitating. Waiting for reinforcements from the Corporate Sector? He wasn't sure. For a moment he considered his own plans, fortifying the chokepoint here at Ranroon was crucial, but it seemed like the enemy was milling, and confused. There was an opportunity here, though he didn't know whether to leap at it or not.
He reached out to the Force, trying to get a sense for the future. Watch. He was told. Wait.
Watch for what? Wait for what?
"I'm going to be meditating." Ky decided. "Tap my shoulder if anything changes."
He folded his legs, sitting on the deck and breathed out slowly. Watch, wait. Soon.
Soon.
...
Inside the temporary storage bay, timers went off in sequence, and droplets began to form on the edge of the different carbonite blocks. Slowly at first, rivulets of the liquid ran off the sides and dripped down to the floor where it gathered in dark, greasy pools. As the slime dripped away, bundles of vegetables and fruits defrosted and rolled off the pile, revealing the shapes beneath. Men, stacked on top of each other carelessly, like a pile of bodies, though every one of them was very much still alive.
They were young and fit, with hard, taught muscles and calloused hands. They were shivering from the cold at first, crowding together and blowing on their own trembling fingers to get some warmth back into their extremities. Despite the pain they were in, none of them said a word, none of them panicked.
At first they were blind, tears running freely down their faces as they worked the gunk from the eyes. It took a while, but gradually their sight returned and one by one they rolled off of each other, finally climbing to shaking feet. Carefully, with practiced precision, they opened some of the crates they'd brought in with them, and took out body suits and armour.
They clothed themselves, pushing shoulders through sleeves and stamping feet to get their boots on. They distributed their scatterguns between them, and loaded the weapons. Not the old crude ones that could only fire twice and would blow smoke everywhere, but new, black and sleek, with extended magazines, and ribbing around the barrel. They had climbing harnesses, medical kits and slicing tools, but no explosives and no plasma. Nothing that would trip up a sensor.
When at last they were all but ready for war, they placed their helmets on, and as one gathered around a final block of carbonite. This one they didn't leave laying on the ground, but stood it so that it was upright. One of them reached forward, flicking the switch on the side of it, then stepped over to kneel in front of it. That soldiers all formed into two lines to either side of him, kneeling before the melting carbonite with their heads lowered in reverence. The fruits and vegetables which had disguised its contents fell away, rolling and bouncing to the floor to reveal a feminine form.
Clad only in her underwear, Tan'ya began to stir. When the melting carbonite fell away from her torso, she drew in a long, shuddering breath, but remained upright. Despite the bitter cold she pressed the palms of her hands together, and closed her eyes. In but a moment, warmth had spread from the Force and to the rest of her body, spreading pins and needles all over her. With a little press of her mind, the rivulets of wet carbonite that had been clinging to her fell away.
When she opened her eyes, they were blood shot, but she could see her soldiers clearly, kneeling before her. All of them were holding out the pieces of her armour, offering them to her. One piece at a time, Tan'ya used the Force to pull to herself first the body suit, then the grieves, the boots, the breastplate, the pauldrons and the gauntlets. Finally she took up her own scattergun, and slid it into a holster on her hip. The only pieces that remained in the hands of her men were the helmet, and a small black cube of stainer.
Tan'ya hated war, but she had to admit that she was feeling relieved to be returning to it.
War was a terrible waste of human resources. War destroyed trillions of credits of material, and cut short the lives of countless talented young sentients.
Even after it was over, the societies that took part in it would spend decades struggling to reorient their economies away from producing war materials, often leading to economic depression and stagnation. There was no one who could look at the staggering costs and risks of war, and conclude that it was anything other than a senseless waste.
This particular war was a long time coming. The worst kind of war, more terrible than a civil war, an unjust war, or even an industrialised war, was a lost war. To be crushed under the heel of a foreign oppressor, to be humiliated and robbed of your livelihood, your hope for the future, was not to live at peace. This was the state of a nation that had been brought low, defeated, and made subject. This was a kind of war waged on the soul, even after the violence had stopped.
The simple truth was that Serenno and the Outer Rim Alliance were going to war with the Trade Federation not because of anything that happened on Mandalore, but because they couldn't stomach the thought of such a false peace for a minute longer.
Peace with the Trade Federation was hardly more than shaking hands with a parasite as it drained your blood. It was rigged markets where you always lose and a bleak future where all productivity was sucked up and sent straight to the pockets of beings who held you in contempt.
War, for all its horrors, had some simple virtues. Two nations bent towards destroying each other were being fundamentally honest in their intentions. There were countless lies told to win a war, but war was by its nature more honest than peace ever could be. It was a proving ground, a chance for a new generation to demonstrate its own brilliance in a true test of the wits across every field of human endeavor. Science, engineering, economics, spycraft, tactics, strategy, and simple martial valor. War pitted people against each other in every possible area of human conflict, and demonstrated who was greater.
And so that was the question. The Trade Federation and the Corporate Sector it ruled over thought itself greater than the other powers of the Outer Rim, and now those same powers had risen up to prove them wrong.
Tan'ya considered the astrography chart she'd memorised, her mind's eye turning from planet to star, fleet to sector, recalling unit disposition reports, and considered her plans one final time. She breathed out once, swallowing, before standing straight. If there was ever a time to back out, it had long since passed. This was it. The culmination of a decade of work and planning.
The Federation and the Alliance were now locked in mortal conflict. If the Federation were defeated their empire would melt away, like so many others had before. If the Alliance were defeated they would suffer under alien subjugation and exploitation for another generation or more.
She reached out with her hand, taking the cube of stainer from one of the men, and waited for a moment for the men to take out their own.
"Now let the proving begin." Tan'ya murmured, before passing the little black cube between her lips and chewing.
Her men did so as well, each eating his piece of stainer as one. Finally, with their teeth blackened, they all as one took the helmets and pulled them over their heads.
"Victory for Serenno." Tanya declared.
"Victory!" Her men greeted in return.
Gone were the young men and women of Serenno, and in their place strode forth war and death.
...
...
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