Chapter Eighteen (Patreon)

Intellectually, Ali’ya knew that war was terrible. That people died, that everyone and everything suffered. That knowledge did little to prepare her for the reality.

The Khagan--the chief military leader of the Kaleesh--had been outraged by what they revealed. She had called a meeting of the Eight Khans, something that happened only once a decade. It took two weeks for them all to arrive but less than a day to declare war. The Huk, as they named the Yam’rii, had gone far beyond mere treaty violations. They had enslaved, murdered, and eaten the Kaleesh all while under their nominal protection. The call to arms was loud, echoing across the Force. That night, the bombing began.

It started with air raid sirens that rang through the capital. Millions of Kaleesh fled for their basements and more heavily built buildings. The Kolkpravis--the elite warriors of the Kalee, led by the Khagan and the Eight Khans--rushed to their ships. They were many in number and low in quality, the bulk of them being surplus Republic goods dating back centuries or ships captured during the Bitthævrian War. The Yam’rii, though much fewer in number, possessed modern ships equipped with the most recent weapons. A combination of Freefall-bomber and K-44 Starfighters (neither of which the Yam’rii should have been able to purchase) arrived as the old Delta-5 interceptors were being scrambled. Both sides were supported by a variety of retrofitted cargoships, small corvettes, and pleasure vessels with lasers bolted on. The large freighter Master Bulq stole was one of the best-armed ships on the planet, which meant they were required in the air.

Master Bulq would, of course, be flying. Though it was far from his speciality a Force-sensitive pilot was simply able to do more than their non-sensitive counterparts, and Master Bulq was considered a master of immediate precognition. Ali’ya acted as co-pilot while a team of Kaleesh where allowed onto the ship to crew the guns.

“You may leave if you wish, Padawan,” Master Bulq told her solemnly. “We do not have Republic approval. I will likely be censured for my actions here.”

Ali’ya stared at him. “Quite frankly,” she began, “I care far more for the lives of the Kaleesh than the opinions of the Senate. I am staying here.”

‘Then I am honored ot have you by my side. Keep your shields up, death in battle--especially one as large as this--is never a pleasant feeling.”

The first death did not come as a surprise. Ali’ya winced as the sudden cry in the Force battered against her shields, but she pushed through, monitoring the ship’s shields and moving power between the deflectors, engines, and weapons as needed. After the first the second did not take long, then the third, and the fourth, and so on, constantly battering her shields.

Then the bomb dropped. Three hundred pounds of compressed explosives, dropped onto a hospital. Three hundred forty-two deaths were felt immediately, and Ali’ya shield wavered. She could feel their pain, the Force’s pain, the malevolence that grew in the air around them. All three battered against her shields, forming a sharp pike that sought to puncture her mind. Ali’ya ignored the growing migraine and gritted her teeth. She took in a deep breath, pulling the Force around her. She set boundaries. She kept the Force a healthy distance from her. Not so far that it could not aid her, but not so close that the cries of pain were overwhelming.

“Incoming on the portside bow!” Ali’ya flipped a series of dials just as Master Bulq dove down towards the city. The rear shields caught the bulk of the explosion.

“One of the cargo holds is damaged,” Ali’ya reported.

“Lose it.”

“Master--”

“I’ll take us over the square, drop it on my command.

“Yes Master.”

“Three, two, NOW!”

“Dropped!”

The freighter turned sharply, the sudden shift in momentum far more than the internal stabilizers were meant to deal with. Ali’ya and Master Bulq held on with the Force, but the rest were thrown against the straps of their seatbelts. Those foolish enough not to wear them were hurtled towards the wall as Master Bulq began another attack run as a wing of bombers came into view.

*

The air battle lasted three days. By the end of the first, Ali’ya was exhausted. By the end of the second she was dissociating, pain and exhaustion kept narrowly at bay as she took control of the ship, Master Bulq called to the street-level fighting after two legions of Yam’rii landed inside city limits and began slaughtering their way through the civilian population. At the end of the third day, when the Yam’rii forces suddenly decided to retreat as the Khagan and Master Bulq pushed their ground troops from Khedive, Ali’ya gladly collapsed, allowing the Force to take hold of her as she fell. She held her pain, her sorrow, her stress and grief and anger and rage. She presented them to the Force like a cat with a dead bird. The Force took them, and threw them away. It was not perfect. Ali’ya knew she would face worse before the war was over. Knew that these memories would come back to haunt her. But for now it was enough to keep moving.

The days that followed were filled with meetings. Ali’ya had little to contribute. The same was not true for her Master, who had already seen two planet-wide conflicts though this was the first he’d had to help command. The Kaleesh knew their planet and their people well and were able to gather a truly astounding amount of intelligence regarding their enemies. But they lacked knowledge of how to deal with the Yam’rii’s advanced weaponry and technological superiority. Ali’ya watched from her master’s side as they Kaleesh and Sora Bulq debated tactics, strategy, and long-term plans.

“The Huk,” Master Bulq said, using the local term for the Yam’rii, “will soon gain total superiority over the skies. They are licking their wounds now, and we must take advantage of it.”

“A hasty attack is one that fails before it begins,” the Kaghan warned. “We cannot move too fast.”

“Nor too slow,” Khan Kaloa said. “We have yet to see the Huk’s full might. If we wish to advance at all, to free our people and our eggs, we must move soon.”

“How long?” the Kaghan asked.

“Two weeks to gather the men and supplies,” his Quartermaster replied. “Five million can make the advance.”

“Very well. We will attack along the entirety of the line. I will lead the center. Khan Orza, you will lead the true attack along the flank. When you approach, we will divert what fighters and bombers we can spare to you.”

“I will go with them as well,” Master Bulq declared. “You will need to break their lines swiftly to advance to the Huk’s capital, something the Force will be a great ally in.”

“Khan Edyo, you will supervise the defense of the capital,” the Kaghan said. “The Padawan can join you.”

“Master--”

“No,” Master Bulq cut off her protest. “I am not bringing a child onto a battlefield.”

“Well said,” Khan Edyo agreed. “I will ensure she is taken care of.”

“At least let me help with the wounded,” Ali’ya protested.

Master Bulq started at her, as if weighing her abilities against her self-restraint. “Very well,” he said. “But you are not allowed to over-exert yourself. Is that understood?”

“Yes master,” Ali’ya lied.