Chapter 38: The Shadow of the Noose

My muscles screamed, pushed to their absolute limit. Thin branches, invisible in the darkness, whipped across my face. I could feel beads of blood trickling from shallow gashes. The cursed commlink kept spitting out the same thing: nothing but gods-damned static!

What I had witnessed changed our plans fundamentally. If I didn't stop our troops' advance, one-fifth of our entire army would be ground into dust!

I had never run like this in my life, plunging through near-total darkness, relying solely on echoes in the Force to guide my direction. Several times, it was only by sheer luck that I avoided colliding with a tree.

The camp was far off; it had taken me almost the entire night to reach it. No one could meet me halfway, as communications were still being jammed. We would have to break camp and fall back as quickly as possible.

I was only a few kilometers away when morning began to break over the treetops. Faint rays of the rising sun filtered through the thick canopy, illuminating the forest.

Rounding another tree, I nearly collided with a stormtrooper. I managed to sense his presence only at the very last second as I had been focusing too hard on not impaling myself on something during my frantic sprint.

The black muzzle of a blaster carbine leveled at my chest, but realizing who stood before him, the trooper quickly lowered it.

"Good morning, sir. We’ve been expecting you..."

"Later. Are you alone here?"

"No, sir." As if to confirm his words, several more soldiers stepped out from the shadows of the trees.

"Excellent. You…" I jabbed a finger at his chest plate. "Escort me to the camp. The rest of you, guard the perimeter; I might have a tail. And be ready to move out on the first command."

Within minutes, we reached the camp. Aside from a slight nervousness among the sentries of the second defensive perimeter, everything seemed normal.

I didn't want to do this, but it was the fastest way to wake everyone. Drawing the Dark Side into myself, I released it in a wide, sweeping wave. It wasn't enough to cause harm, but it was perfect for jolting them awake and into full alertness. Though, it seemed I might have overdone it.

For several seconds, the camp descended into total chaos. Soldiers, mostly without their armor, scrambled out of tents, clutching blasters in trembling hands. Their eyes darted wildly, trying to identify the source of the threat.

"Stand fast!" My voice, amplified by the Force, thundered across the camp. "Listen to my orders. Strike the camp as fast as possible. We’re moving out. Explanations will follow on the march. Move it!"

It truly felt as though there was no time for explanations; every minute was critical.

Without asking unnecessary questions, the now-calmer soldiers began quickly donning their gear, while others started collapsing sleep stations and the camp as a whole.

"Sir, what’s the situation?"

The stormtrooper commander approached my side. The clone’s face betrayed no emotion, but I knew he didn't understand what was happening.

"The plan isn't just bad; it’s a trap. The Separatists know we’re coming, and they’ve prepared. We need to get out of here immediately and warn the main force."

"But we can just send a signal."

"We can’t. A jammer is blanketed over everything. I tried to get through the whole way here, but you didn't receive anything, did you?"

"No." It seemed he was also beginning to realize the mess we were in. "I had a trooper stationed by the comms array the whole time."

"Exactly. Have our scouts told you what happened to them?"

"Yes."

"There it is. The Separatists either know our frequencies or they’re just jamming everything for kilometers around. We’re effectively cut off. So, we retreat."

"Understood, sir."

Turning away, he began barking sharp, clear orders, directing the process. I leaned against a tree and closed my eyes. A sleepless night and a long-distance sprint had taken their toll. Every minute of rest right now was a godsend.

But peace was short-lived. Within half an hour, we were ready to move.

In ragged files, we abandoned our site. Scouts moved out ahead. I hoped they would soon break past the jamming radius and catch a signal.

******

"...Lord Vader, in this manner, we can puncture their defenses and move even closer to the factory."

Holograms of all the commanders loomed around the table. Each was responsible for one of five fronts. Three of them had only recently been appointed to their positions; barely thirty years old, they already held high rank and operated no worse than their senior colleagues.

This fact infuriated a certain stout officer. That some "milk-drinkers" dared to command such forces! His opinion was absolute: no. Only those seasoned by age and hailing from the Great Families could lead properly, not these low-born upstart officers.

And now, one of these youths dared to contradict him.

"Officer Trix, this plan strikes me as too risky. By withdrawing nearly all troops from that sector, you give the enemy room for a counter-attack. In the worst-case scenario, you could be encircled. We cannot afford to lose twenty percent of our remaining strength. There will be no reinforcements. I suggest a revision."

"Out of the question. The plan is timed to the minute." Trix’s small eyes darted toward the Commander-in-Chief, trying to gauge a reaction. If there was one thing he was good at, it was sycophancy. But behind the mask, nothing was visible. The posture remained utterly impartial. "I have already begun preparations."

"You should have coordinated your actions with us first!" The young officer struggled to remain calm, but he was seething. "Should anything happen, we won't be able to provide support."

"I don't need it." Turning away from the "arrogant brat," Trix fixed a loyal gaze on Vader. "I guarantee results. My plan is calculated down to the smallest detail; nothing can stop it..."

His inspired speech was cut short by a stormtrooper who appeared beside Lord Vader and spoke a few quick words. The words were unintelligible to the others, but the machine-like man’s response was heard by all.

"Patch him through."

A small figure of a youth appeared on the table, deflecting blaster bolts. The screech of interference hit their ears, making Trix wince. Static nearly drowned out the words, but the gist was clear.

"—Fifth Son, Inquis... Recon mission... Fifth Army... Trap."

"What nonsense is he spewing!"

The officer recognized the bastard, the very one who had dared to threaten him! Trix wasn't Force-sensitive, but his instincts were sharp. And right now, they told him that this little talking figure needed to be silenced immediately.

"Lord Vader, do not listen to him! I—"

But the end of the sentence went unheard, as the hologram’s audio was simply cut.

"—No army... Mountain is a fortress! Perimeter defens... Report sent via Inquis..."

The signal cut off mid-word.

"Transmitter destroyed."

For several seconds, a deathly silence hung in the room. Then, a mechanical voice resonated through the chamber.

"I have reviewed the report. Commander of the Fourth Army, dispatch support to the designated grid immediately. Officer Trix is relieved of duty."

Black-armored hands could be seen seizing the struggling officer. A Death Trooper flashed briefly in the frame before the hologram went dark.

******

"Back! Back! Everyone fall back!"

I was holding the line almost single-handedly, covering the retreat of what remained of my unit. Like forest spirits, droids emerged from the gloom in disjointed ranks. There were no longer dozens, but hundreds, perhaps a thousand battle droids.

Four hours ago, we had successfully cleared the jammed zone. Deciding not to go through my immediate superiors, given the latter's lack of a brain, I had sent a detailed report through the internal Inquisitorius channel. I couldn't reach Lord Vader directly, and I didn't have the codes for the other army commanders, so I had to improvise.

And it seemed my suspicion about a traitor in our ranks was correct. Less than an hour had passed before enemy starfighters and bombers were screaming overhead, dropping their lethal payloads.

We were lucky we had moved several kilometers from our previous position and hadn't set up camp there. Otherwise, none of us would be left alive.

And then, the karking inferno began.

We bolted, trying to reach the nearest hills as quickly as possible. That was where we planned to make our stand. The scouts had scanned the terrain, and that section was surprisingly defensible.

However, the enemy had no intention of letting us go so easily. A Separatist landing craft touched down several kilometers away, and I had no doubt it was packed to the brim with droids.

Soon, the first scout groups reached us. Naturally, they were destroyed almost instantly. But every such skirmish claimed one or two stormtroopers. Given the sheer number of droids against us, it was a very poor trade.

The first major engagement happened an hour later. They must have calculated our route. I couldn't explain how tanks with a support of a couple hundred infantry ended up in our path otherwise.

The scout group that had pushed ahead only managed to send one message before an explosion echoed up front and the connection died.

There was no time for a complex strategy. With every minute, the invisible noose around our necks tightened. We either broke through now, or we’d be surrounded.

Preparation took no more than twenty minutes. The plan was as simple as a thermal detonator. I would spearhead the breakthrough and take out the tanks. The stormtroopers would lay down suppressing fire on anything that moved, or at least moved like a droid.

I secured several grenades to my belt. If I tried to deal with everyone using only my lightsaber, it might take too long. All I could do was pray that no stray bolt hit the explosives.

My soldiers took positions behind trees, tensely peering out and assigning targets. Nervousness radiated from all sides; the tension was so thick you could cut it with a vibroblade.

I felt their gazes lingering on me. My move was to be the signal for the battle to begin.

"Now!"

Every emotion stored within me was channeled into those few frantic minutes.

With a single Force-leap, I cleared a distance of several dozen meters. The Dark Side surged through my body, flooding it with power.

The moment my boots hit the ground, I zigzagged to the side. Simultaneously, red blaster streaks began erupting from behind the trees. The first volley took out dozens of droids. But none of that mattered if I couldn't deal with the tanks.

A few shots hissed past me; the rest I deflected back at their owners. If it weren't for the infantry, I would have thrown my lightsaber already. But I couldn't risk it, having to move in a jagged trajectory from side to side.

The massive machines weren't just sitting there waiting to be scrapped. A pair of them concentrated their fire on the hidden stormtroopers. Shattered trees toppled, pinning one or two soldiers beneath them.

During another dash, I saw out of the corner of my eye a bolt literally vaporize a soldier’s head and part of his chest. The charred, headless body in green-and-black armor spasmed a few times and slumped into the brush.

But the stormtroopers weren't idle. Every rocket launcher we had was spitting lethal charges. By the time I was almost on top of the tanks, several were already belching black smoke. Fire erupted from their hulls, and I might have imagined it, but I thought I heard the death-screams of droids.

A couple of times during my sprint, death had missed me by mere centimeters. In moments like these, I regretted not studying Ataru. With the mobility of that style, dodging tank fire would have been effortless. But I had to use what I had. One shoulder was scorched, but with the adrenaline coursing through my blood, I barely felt it.

The final lunge ended beside my first target. A swift sweep of the blade, and the main cannon's barrel hit the ground with a metallic clang.

The following actions took only seconds. The Force pried open the remains of the barrel, and a pair of grenades were sent down the newly created passage into the heart of the tank.

The resulting explosion caught up with me after I’d moved on. A sharp gesture of my hand was accompanied by the screech of a hatch being ripped away. At the peak of my jump, I flew directly over the head of the tank commander. I think if droids had eyes, they would have widened in terror.

A pillar of flame and metallic debris rose into the air as I landed between four B1s. A couple of slashes, and the soldiers, who hadn't even realized what happened, fell to the ground.

Precognition warned me that a massive 'kark-up' was coming. A Force-pulse made the tank's turret screech unpleasantly, forcing it to rotate. Pushing even harder, I managed to shift it so the blast meant for me punched right through the unshielded rear of another unit.

A twist of my hand, and the main gun crumpled into a formless mass of metal.

A dash, and the crimson blade pierced the armor. I couldn't see it, but I felt the blade punch through the heads of the surviving tank crew.

An explosion behind me, followed by another seconds later, signaled that my final targets were neutralized. Mopping up the remaining infantry was a matter of routine. A few dozen B1 droids posed no significant threat to me, especially with my squad’s support.

The commander burst from the treeline, ushering the rest of the troops forward.

"Move! Move! Keep it going!"

Figures in grime-streaked green armor poured onto the field, advancing in a ragged line. Between them, speeder bikes glided near-silently with stretchers attached, carrying the wounded. All non-essential equipment was left by the trees. Extra weight would only slow us down.

The engineers were the last to leave their positions, hastily booby-trapping everything they could.

Once he was sure all surviving soldiers had left cover, the commander caught up with us. Pulling alongside me, he summarized the situation.

"Twenty-three KIA. Fifteen seriously wounded. We left five behind, no room, and the boys volunteered to hold the line." A hidden grief bled through my loyal subordinate’s professional tone. "Thirty-four with light injuries. Two or three more scraps like that and there won't be a unit left."

"We won't let it come to that. The faster we reach the positions, the more will survive."

The journey was short but intense. Dozens of droids kept intercepting us from different angles, constantly thinning our ranks. Barely a hundred soldiers managed to reach the pass on their own feet, leading to the safety of the grid.

As half the unit disappeared between the cliffs, droids began emerging from the trees three hundred meters away.

Right now, I was defending the entrance to a small canyon, covering the retreating stormtroopers while simultaneously trying to reach any allied forces on all possible channels.

A few snipers provided what help they could. A pair of comms-techs were working some kind of voodoo over their gear, broadcasting my image. And like a parrot, I had to keep shouting, trying to drown out the noise around me.

Suddenly, several B2s stepped out from the trees. I reacted before I even fully processed it. A Force Shield enveloped my soldiers, saving them from several rockets. For a second, my vision went dark, as if I’d been struck by a hammer. But a stormtrooper's shout brought me back to reality.

"Sir! The transmitter is destroyed!"

"Kark! How far are our people?"

"Three hundred meters, sir. They’re setting up repeating blaster nests. There are only two, but in this bottleneck, they’ll do a lot of damage."

"Excellent. Fall back. I’m bringing up the rear."