The Rebel Faction

Part One: The Ugly Duckling

Three Years Ago
Caloran Beta System
0300 Andoz Standard Clock

"Roger that, Mother Goose. Ugly Duckling preparing to make jump." Eilon Lieutenant Jacob Smith acknowledged.

Swallowing a sigh, Smith wished, not for the first time, that he had enlisted in the armed forces. At least there you performed drills all day. You kept yourself occupied. In the nothingness of space, the boredom could drive a man insane. Smith hoped that he wouldn't be the first. The Andozian government had only recently agreed to begin further exploration into the unknown regions of their galaxy. This was the third system they had delved into. In the other systems, colonies had spread like wildfire. The first colonies in Caloran Beta had been delayed since the sightings of an unidentified ship in its furthermost edges.

Smith and his co-pilot, Eilon Lieutenant Jeromy Skier, were patrolling not too far from the very spot the sightings had taken place. Despite common sense and odds, Smith felt nervous whenever they patrolled here. He swore Jeromy did as well, though the younger man wouldn't admit it. He was too proud, but then again, so was Smith. Checking the jump clock, Smith sighed, this time not bothering to hold it back. It would be five minutes until they were at the jump point. Five more minutes of extreme boredom. Jeromy opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off, and in fact thrown from his seat, by a loud rumbling.

"@#%$!" They both exclaimed simultaneously. Smith out of surprise, and Jeromy because he had landed on his tail bone.

"What the @#%$ was that?"

"I don't know! I don't know!"

"Get the sensors up! Get the @#%$ sensors up! And get these windows the @#%$ open!"

Jeromy scrambled back to his seat, viciously jabbing at his controls. The windows snapped open, and the light from the system's twin suns stabbed back at them until the windows dimmed. The sensors flickered on a second later. Smith could hardly believe his eyes. There were at least six ships, all of them larger than any capital he had ever seen. They seemed to barely appear on the ship's scanners. It was as if the majority of the ship wasn't metallic. Both Lieutenant's stared in awe at the sight before scrambling back into action. Their conversation was rapid.

"@#%$, Jake! Get us the hell out from under the big one!"

"You wanna drive?!"

"Open a channel to Mother Goose!"

"Dammit! They're using some kind of technology to block our communications!"

"Well, try and hack it!"

"Damn this @#%$ is advanced! WATCH OUT!"

"OH @#%$!"

Narrowly avoiding becoming space-kill on one of the smaller ship's hulls, Smith pulled them into a maximum gee dive, their oxygen masks barely compensating in time to keep them from blacking out. Even then, it was a tight squeeze. They passed by an open part in the ship's hull, and a moment later five small, box-shaped fighters spewed out and took up the chase. Neither Lieutenant noticed until five faint blips appeared on the radar. Barely a second later, a siren blared into their masks, signifying a missile lock.

"@#%$!" Both of them screamed at once.

The game of dodge ball soon turned into a game of chase as the enemy fighters steadily gained on them. Many smaller blips suddenly appeared on the radar, all of them in the shape of what could only be a missile. For a while, their speed seemed to match, but finally, like the fighters they were launched from, the flying torpedoes of death slowly began to gain on them. Smith banked hard left, and, much to the protest of Skier, began to head back toward the larger ships.

"Are you crazy! You're going to get us both killed! Do you know that?! You do know that, don't you?!"

"Shut up and hang on!" was the only reply the pilot bothered to give.

Deliberately heading toward all of the juts and tight squeezes he could find, Smith's motives began apparent to the co-pilot. Not that it helped any, but it did quiet him down from shrill yells to soft moans. Smith flew in no direct order, and a spontaneous pattern began to form. Right, left, right, up, right, down, left, left, left, right, up, down, down, right, left, left, up...etc. Soon there was only one missile left out of them ten perusing them. And soon that too was blown away. Unfortunately for them, it was not due to Smith's kamikaze flying, but rather the enemy capital ships. And it was also a pure accident.

What seemed like a thousand more lasers flared to life instantly, all of them stabbing out at Smith's ship. Luckily, due to his position, rather than hit them, most lasers struck the hull of the enemy ship he happened to be other. A few made their way past the obstacles, however, and one struck them on their port side, and nearly throwing Smith from his seat. Jeromy, who had given up whimpering and was once again working on hacking through the enemy communications jam, was not so lucky. Grumbling, he crawled back into his seat, only to be knocked to the ground once more as Smith performed a barrel-roll, desperately trying to evade his pursuers.

And then they were free, screaming across space and quickly pursued by a hail of laser fire. Also, coming up from below the alien capitals were some old friends, three box-shaped fighters. Checking the systems, Smith discovered he was only a minute's flying away from the jump point. If he could only stall his enemy for long enough....his thoughts were interrupted when a lucky shot struck their ship, this time sending both of them crashing to the floor.

Jacob was up in a second, wrestling with the controls and jabbing furiously at keys, demanding a damage report. The lasers had struck only a few centimeters away from their engine. Smith realized that he had just been a few centimeters away from death. If that laser had hit the engine, they'd be either burning alive or flash freezing out in space. Unfortunately, their current status wasn't much better. What the laser had succeeded in doing was severing the cables from the controls to the engine. They were dead in space with an enemy at their heels. Checking the systems, Smith pounded at the controls. They had been half a minute from the jump point.

"I've got it! I've got it! Opening channel to Mother Goose!" with that sentence came hope for Smith, "Channel up!"

"Mother Goose! Mother Goose! This is Ugly Duckling! Mayday! I repeat, mayday! We've come in contact with a hostile alien fleet! Please respond!"

"R...ger...at....uckling....ld tigh....send....ediate....-vac...."


"Mother Goose! Mother Goose! We're losing you!"

"@#%$! Jacob, missiles!"

"@#%$! EJECT! EJECT!"

And then the Ugly Duckling went up in a dazzling fireworks display.

Part Three: Hated Pasts and Hated Futures

Three Years Ago
Caloran Beta System
0330 Andoz Standard Clock

Eilon Lieutenant Jacob Smith was in a bad spot. He flowed freely through space in his ejection pod, and in the distance he could see fellow Lieutenant Jeromy Skier's pod floating in the opposite direction. Andoz technology, in all its 'glory' and 'splendor', had still not managed to get manual control on board the ejection pods.

There wasn't-there hadn't-been much need for it anyway, the Fifth War being in the past. And now Smith was paying the price. It probably wouldn't have mattered much, anyway. It was scientifically impossible to jump with an ejection pod, at least it was impossible right now. Who knew what the future had in stored for Andoz. If it had one at all.

The alien warfleet was still in system, but they were no longer aware of the two survivors. They had probably assumed them blown to bits with the explosion of the Ugly Duckling. What Andozian technology had been able to do was reduce sensor detection of the tiny little ejection pods to near null.

Then Smith saw something that made its heart jump up his throat and try to force its way out of his mouth. The alien fleet was retreating. Jacob almost laughed aloud at the poorly-used term.

"Jeremy! Jeremy, you there?" Smith hissed through the communications channel.

"Jake! Are you trying to get me killed?!" Came Jeremy's voice, his not-so-quiet, "Maintain radio silence! Maintain radio silence!"

"Jeremy! Jeremy, listen!" Jake didn't really have the time nor the patience for one of Jeremy's breakdowns, "I think they're backing off. Mother Goose said she was sending help, so I think we're clear."

"Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Jeremy moaned into the communications channel to nobody in particular. He had obviously been having a much more stressful time than Jake.

And, as if on que, the Mother Goose herself streaked in from the jump point. She wasn't much. Definitely not by our galaxy's standards, but to Eilon Lieutenants stuck on deep-space patrols like Jacob and Jeremy, it was a temporary home, and right now a godsend.

"Frell, are they trying to get us killed?!" Jeremy cried, jumping from relieved to histerical, "Those frelling aliens are definitely gonna notice that!"

"Calm down, Lieutenant." crackled the Mother Goose, "Our sensors show the alien warfleet is preparing to-wait...@#%$! LIEUTENANT SKIER! BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

"What the fr-AH-ckkkkkkk...." and Jeromy's voice was quieted forever.


Present Day
Andoz System
2200 Andoz Standard Clock

Zenith Admiral Jacob Smith awoke with a start, sweat literally streaming down his face. The dreams had been plaguing him for three years now, and they showed no signs of letting up. He had been to everyone. Shrinks, doctors, professional hypnotists. Everyone.

Smith suddenly realized the reason he had awoken prematurely. There was knocking on the door to his quarters. By the sound of it and the yelling also audible, whoever it was had either been at it for some time, very desperate to speak with him, or both. Smith was betting on both.

Getting up from bed, he paused only to get half-dressed before he unlocked the door, screaming back at the man the entire time, trying to get him to shut up. The door swung open and Krauze stepped in, along with a few other Zenith Admirals and his superior. Namely, Chancellor Verdi.

"What the frell is this about?" Smith nearly yelled, his head aching, himself half-asleep, and also his senses extremely drunk. He was always like this after his dreams.

"Watch yourself, Zenith Admiral!" Chancellor Verdi bellowed. He was by no means a particularly nice man, but he was by far the loudest man there in the Senate meetings and out of them.

"Been dreaming again, Jake?" Krauze asked, knowing his friend all too well.

"And you! Remember your station!" Verdi turned his anger on Krauze, "You will address him as Zenith Admiral Smith or Zenith Admiral! Not Jake or Jacob or any other damned foolish nicknames you two have made up for each other!"

"Sorry, sir. May I inquire as to why you stormed into my quarters in the middle of-" Jacob was cut off by a deafening noise, followed by the ground shaking underneath them.

"Frell, they've already started!" Verdi yelled, exiting almost as quickly as he had entered, "Lets go! Senator Krauze, fill Zenith Admiral Smith in on the situation!"

"The Vong are here." Krauze simply stated, much more quietly than Verdi, "It was amazing. One minute, our sensors were clear, the next minute, the Sector was crawling with Bu-Vong vessels. Hundreds of their capitals, thousands of their fighters. Our outer-perimeter didn't stand a chance."

"Its as we feared." Smith admitted, "The data we captured didn't go into much detail about the technology they used to move, or it did and we couldn't decode it. There was a lot of information like that. Most of us knew that they were capable of something like this..."

"But thats not the amazing part." Krauze replied eagerly, "The amazing part...is that the emerged much too close. Past out perimeter guard. Past any known jump point."

"Un-charted jump points in the Andoz System??" Jacob's eyebrows were raised in a disbelieving look. The Andoz System was their home, and every inch of it had been scanned five times over for jump points.

"No. Our sensors showed that they didn't use anything like jump point technology."

"So what you're saying is that the Yuuzhan Vong could appear anywhere at anytime?"

"Yeah, basically." Krauze said.

"We're screwed, aren't we?"

"Pretty much."

Part Five: Staring Hell Straight In The Eyes Part II

Andoz System - Halfway To Jump Point
2300 Andoz Standard Clock

"Frell! They're all over!" Came Overkill's frantic voice through the radio.

"Maintain radio silence, Overkill!!"

"MAINTAIN RADIO SILENCE?! They sure as @#%$ know we're here, Hawkeye!"

"Sorry! I meant so say SHUT THE @#%$ UP AND KEEP FIRING!" Jeremy was getting very impatient with his gunner.

But nobody could blame him. Within a half hour of the launch the perimeter had become a living hell. Yuuzhan Vong coralskippers were all over the place, and the number of Excaliburs were dropping rapidy. A mix of laser fire and superheated bullets filled up the night...or day...or whatever the time was when a person was evacuated.

The pilot/gunner design of the Excalibur was extremely simple. The man in front flies the craft, and the man in back fires the weapons. Very simple until the gunner freezes up and the pilot is trapped in a killzone. A flaming Excalibur streaked by Jeremy's window just before it blew up in a dazzling display of fireworks by a Vong coralskipper. It reminded Jeremy of the time his father told him about the first time he had met the Vong. About the time he had lost his friend. John's father.

"Damnit John! If you don't fire those @#%$ weapons you'll be seeing your dad a lot sooner than you expected!"

"Don't @#%$ talk about my dad like that!" Jeremy had struck a nerve.

"Then don't @#%$ freeze up when you're in my ship!"

John opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again, not having properly digested what Jeremy had said. He opened his mouth again, but closed it because he hadn't formulated a response yet. He opened his mouth a third time, but closed it again when he realized that Jeremy was right, and instead opted to blast the hell out of the nearest coralskipper.

"Damn, Johnny boy. Nice shot."

"Maintain radio silence, Hawkeye. And the name...is...Overkill!"

John proceeded to blast the hell out of yet another coralskipper, and then another. Jeremy smiled the grim smile of one staring Hell straight in the eyes. He began an intricate dance through the crossfire, weaving his way out of danger and yet still seeming to always offer John the best shots at Vong coralskippers. They were men posessed.

"...awke......kill....ere the f...k.....og....ble....le....and Fo....Squad....Hawk...!" It was Maestro's voice. John rushed to flip on the fighter-to-fighter communications program specially installed on all of the Excaliburs.

"Maestro! Maestro! Do you copy, over?"

"Read you loud and clear, Hawkeye! Where the @#%$ is Dog, Able, Idle, and Fox? I don't see em' anywhere!"

"Maestro, I don't even see you anywhere! They're probably on the other side of the Avalanche. The Bugs are all around us!"

"I don't know, Hawk. I don't know."

Andoz System - On Board the Avalanche
2310 Andoz Standard Clock

"Krauze. Krauze! You okay?"

"Yeah...I'm just still thinking about what Verdi said..." Krauze admitted, "I didn't think he thought about me like that..."

"You didn't?" Jake asked, his eyes wide, "Freeow, Krauze! Where have you been? Verdi has always hated you!"

"Yeah, but...denying me a position on board the Tranquil with the other Senators?" Krauze asked to himself, "I mean, he might as well say he values my life far below all of the others."

"Hey! Snap out of it, Sam!" Jake said, "You're on the best-defended ship in the convoy. You might not have everyone else covering your ass, but at least you're on the ship everyone is counting on to cover their ass."

This got Krauze to smile. For the first time, he looked around the bridge. It was a standard Andozian bridge, one that would probably be considered far too elaborate and cluttered by people in our galaxy. Just then, the Captain of the Avalanche turned and called them over.

"We've reached the jump point, sirs," said the Captain, "Preparing to decloak."

"Proceed as ordered, Captain," Jake ordered, "And I want the message sent out as soon as possible to the Excalibur Squadrons to get their asses back to the ship. My son is out there."

"You're son is out there?" Krauze asked, astounded, "In an Excalibur."

"Yeah..." Jake replied, sighing and staring down at his feet as if they were all suddenly so very interesting, "Yeah, he is."

"Well, whos his gunner?"

"Skier. John Skier."

"Skier's son?!" Krauze nearly shouted, sartling nearby crewman, "You're @#%$ me."

"I wish I were..."

"Which squadron?" Krauze didn't usually ask about Smith's family, and we as amazed at what Smith was willing to tell him.

"Easy Squadron."

"Right on the front line, huh? @#%$..."

"Zenith Admiral, sir!" shouted the Captain, "Sir, we have a problem!"

"Whats that, Captain?"

"Its the Vong, sir. They appear to be using some sort of communications blocking technique. We've managed to get word out to most of the squadrons, but we haven't gotten hold of one of them."

"Which one?!" Jake shouted, embers of rage and terror flaring in his eyes.

"Easy Squadron, sir."

"@#%$..." Krauze mouthed it, but Jake said it aloud. He slumped back into his seat, his fingers rubbing his temples.

"Sir, the Tranquil is ordering all ships to jump on their mark."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Jake said, his voice once again in its dreamlike state that Krauze had heard before.

"I believe not, sir."

"Very well...damnit all to hell..."

Andoz System - Convoy Outer Perimeter, Jump Point
2330 Andoz Standard Clock

"Oh @#%$!" came Maestro's voice over the fighter-to-fighter communications system.

"What? Maestro, what?!"

"The convoy! I recognize that position! They're jumping!"

"No...no they can't be...they would've told us..." Jeremy blinked five times and rubbed furiously at his eyes.

"Frell, Hawkeye." Came John's voice, "He's right. They are...there goes the Serenity...the Hope...the Arbiter...the Wizened...all of them...wait...Jeremy, look!"

Jeremy saw it instantly. The Tranquil was breaking up. It was literally snapping in half. And just then he noticed the Vong capital ship. It had snuck through a part of the line that Dog Squadron had been protecting. The squadrons had been called back too soon. All Jeremy could do was pound his fist on the airtight plastiglass of the cockpit and watch.

"Frell, Jeremy. That ship has everybody on it. Chancellor Verdi...the Senators...everybody..."

"Was you're dad on it?"

"No, he was on the Avalanche with all of the other military personnel...but damnit...who the @#%$ is going to lead us now?"

"Nobody, John. They're gone. All of them. There's no more 'us'. Just you...me...Maestro...and Angel...We're stuck here...we're stuck here for good..."

Part Seven: A Little Bit Closer to Hell

Escape Wormhole - Avalanche's Bridge
1030 Andoz Standard Clock

"Whats the status on the Wizened?" asked Captain Chopin. He had made a habit of doing so every ten minutes.

"Marine Teams report they've taken the hangar bay and are moving farther into the ship."

"Casualty rate?"

"Light, sir."

"Tell the men to exercise extreme caution," Chopin said, "Three Vong troop ships means a @#%$ load of hostiles. Light casualties could quickly turn into a @#%$ war zone. I want to see most of my boys back here safe."

"Yes, sir."

Luis Chopin was an ex-Marine commander who had been paralyzed from the waist down in one of the first encounters with the Vong up close. He was a man who had been recovered from behind Vong-lines, the total of which could be counted on one hand.

After his injury, he had been transferred over to the Navy itself, and had been rush-promoted like many others to deal with the massive shortage of commanding officers. Luis had been one of the very few men who had actually kept their positions instead of losing them due to gross incompetence or insubordination.

"Krauze. Where the @#%$ have you been?"

"Tactful, Luis. Very tactful." Krauze replied, in no particular mood for one of Chopin's rants, "How are things up here?"

"Did you know that they only sent four Marine Teams to the Wizened?!" Chopin nearly screamed. He hadn't taken the hint, "Four @#%$ teams. What the @#%$ are four Marine Teams supposed to do against three Bug troop ships."

"Why don't you ask them?" Krauze asked.

"Ask who?"

"The people who decided to send only four Marine Teams to the Wizened."

"How are things with Smith?" Luis asked, quickly changing the subject, "Is he feeling okay? Never mind. Scratch that. He lost his son for @#%$'s sake."

"He's actually taking the whole thing pretty well." Krauze replied.

"Hmmm...well where is he? I want to talk to him about the Wizened. He always was good at handling these types of situations."

"He's probably nearby the personnel rooms of the Wizened." Krauze said nonchalantly, "The Teams are checking there for survivors, aren't they?"

"Yeah, they are," Chopin replied, and then suddenly realized what Krauze had said, "Wait! Where is Smith?!"

"Nearby the personnel rooms of the Wizened," Krauze repeated, "I suppose you could raise him on one of the radios if you really want to talk to him."

"Are you...telling me...that Zenith Admiral....Jacob Smith...is on board the Wizened?!!"

"Yeah," Krauze replied, taking a seat in an vacant chair, "Okay. I guess he didn't take it as well as I said..."

"Frell, Sam! Didn't you even @#%$ try to stop him?!"

"The man had a gun, Luis." Krauze said, staring about the room as if half-asleep, "What the @#%$ was I supposed to do?"

"Yo...we...I...raise the Marine Teams, now!"

Escape Wormhole - Escape Ship Wizened
1040 Andoz Standard Clock

"You want me to what??" asked the commanding officer. He had been having a hushed conversation with the bridge of the Avalanche for a couple of minutes, and the Marines were trying to figure out what he was talking about, "Is this some kind of a joke?! Its not funny. Sir? Sorry, sir. No, sir. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. 3A, out."

"Alright, marines. Listen up!" shouted the commanding officer, only to realize that they had been listening up for a while, "If Zenith Admiral Jacob Smith is here, will he please step forward?"

Almost all of the marines stared blankly at him, thinking he'd gone insane. Quite a few chuckled, and a couple broke into outright laughter. Everyone seemed to quiet down instantly as Smith stepped forward. His rifle was resting casually on his shoulder in a classic stance. He removed his helmet to confirm his identity.

"Yes, Captain?" Jake asked, drawing wide-eyed gazes.

"S-s-sir!" the Captain quickly snapped to attention. The rest of the troops hastily did likewise.

"At ease. Captain, what seems to be the problem?"

"Its the Avalanche, sir." The Captain replied, his eyes still wide, "Captain Chopin would like to speak with you."

Jacob grabbed the radio from the dazed Captain, knowing what was about to come. He put the radio up to his ear and pulled it away again, wincing at the volume of the Luis's voice. He listened for a little while, but after a couple of minutes with no end in sight, he held the phone away from his ear. Eventually, when the volume died down, he put it back to his ear.

"Right. I get it. We're to proceed as ordered. Affirmative," this caused more yelling, but Jake hung up before it could do anymore damage, "You heard the Captain. Lets go."

None of them had, and all of them knew Jake most likely didn't get those orders, but they all complied. Even the commanding officer, though he was grumbling the entire time. During their trip, Jake got enough peace and quiet to marvel at the immense discipline of the Marines. There was no doubt that only the best had been stationed aboard the Avalanche, but even knowing that Jake was amazed.

But as they reached the immense civilian quarters that took up 70% of the ship, Jake was no longer amazed. He was disgusted. Two bodies, presumably guards, were slumped on either side of the doorway. It looked like both had suffered fatal wounds from thudbugs, but they had also been hacked and slashed apart, their guts hanging out from their bodies, two pools of blood combining into one large puddle as they flowed. The blood was still pouring even though the guards had been dead for some time. Jake never knew there was that much blood in a man.

In spite of their hardcore training, some of the Marines verged on throwing up themselves. One of them did, but was not berated. The commanding officer was too busy praying silently to notice. It was interrupted as a thudbug exploded nearby. One soldier screamed out, but he had only been singed slightly and more jumpy than wounded. The rest, including Smith, sent a hail of rounds flying toward an estimated direction. At first, Smith compensated for his horrible aiming skills with his ability to lay down an excellent one-man base of fire. Eventually, as he got the hang of not holding down the trigger in a death grip and shutting his eyes tight, it balanced out and his aimed steadied a bit.

A dead Vong slumped out of the shadows, countless bullet holes littering it's body. The armor had held up well, however, and he was still crawling. A marine walked over to it, drew his pistol, put a foot on it's back, and calmly shot in the head, ending its enjoyed misery. Smith found that, for good reason, he didn't feel like throwing up when he stared at the Vong's lifeless body. In fact, he felt much better.

"Mount up, marines!" called out the C.O., "Lets kick some Vong ass!"

Most of the soldiers slammed fresh magazines into the Gauss Rifles. Smith, noticing his ammo counter reading 00, did likewise. After watching a couple others do it, he found it reasonably easy. The lead scout tried opening the hatch leading to the civilian interior, and found it locked. This didn't faze him, however, and calls for the demo team went up. Three mean wearing more bulky armor than the others hurried to the front. They unloaded one of the large pockets custom-built into their ballistic armor, revealing C2 explosives. Two of them set the smaller bombs on key places in the hatch, and everyone backed away. The third member of the demo team flipped a switch he had pulled out of his belt, and there was a very loud boom.

"Breached!" cried out the demo team. And indeed they were right. The hatch had exploded off of its supports, leaving a small crater on the walls surrounding it. The door itself had actually blown through to the civilian quarters.

"Hold! Hold!" the C.O. called as many of the marines reached for grenades, "We don't know whats in there. There might be survivors. Hold off on the bang, and lets skip to the clear." (A commonly used Helixian military tactic was to "Breach, bang, and clear." A door would be kicked, or blown, open, grenades would fly, and then soldiers would clear out the room. After each phase was done, soldiers would cry out "Breached!", then "Banged!", and finally "Cleared!")

The marines slowly filed into the civilian quarters. The light power had been cut off in this area, and one by one the marines had activated the flashlights attached to their Gauss Rifles. When Smith finally figured out how, he wished he hadn't. His light shined on a pile of torn open human carcasses. He immediately threw up. In fact, not a man in the Team, or rather all of the Teams (except a most of 3C who was given the task of clearing the engine room and bridge which was filled with much less human corpses) didn't throw up at least once.

After the men had done their dirty business, flashlights flickered around to different areas of the hallway. Finally, Smith's light swished over to the blown away door, and stayed there. Many lights joined him. A Vong was pinned under the doorway, and two others were chuckling in envy of his dying twitches. As the lights hit them, they turned around, winced, and shielded their eyes. Flashlight was soon accompanied by the flash as bullets left their barrels. The two living Vong were literally thrown down the hallway as a hail of bullets met them. Even after the Vong were definitely dead, some soldiers reloaded and kept firing. Most of these were soldiers who had had family on the Wizened.

"That's enough!" the commanding officer finally cried out, "Conserve your ammo!"

It was another two minutes before either C.O. could actually get them to stop. By then most of the soldiers had depleted nearly all of their ammo and had to borrow some from their comrades. This same scene proceeded throughout 3As area of the quarters they had to covered, with no civilian and a few Vong in sight. Most of the Vong had been centered near the bridge and engineering, anticipating a counter-attack. 3C had suffered heavy casualties and had been driven back at the bridge. Eventually 3B had to assist them in finishing the job.

"Hey, come here and look at this, Mike!" called out one of the marines. Mike came over, followed by Smith.

"Look at this, Mike," the marine showed him a newspaper. The date was familiar to Smith. It was the date the escape ships had gone public, "Read this."

Smith peered over his shoulder. Neither of them had noticed him. The top of the article read:

The Escape Wormhole: A Wormhole to Heaven

"I guess we're all a little bit closer to heaven now, eh Jim?" replied Mike.

"Try a little bit closer to hell."

Part Nine: The Escape

Escape Wormhole - Escape Ship Avalanche
1200 Andoz Standard Clock

Smith had made the way back without being spoken to. He had made it through debriefing, although he had been given some funny looks by the commanding officers. He had even gotten through a short shower and redressed before Chopin burst into his quarters screaming bloody murder.

Krauze was with him, but he chose not to speak. It wasn't like he needed to anyway. Smith recognized what the grin plastered on his face meant. He would let Chopin yell at Smith, and he wouldn't try to calm the man down because Smith deserved it. But that grin told him that Krauze did understand, and that was all he needed.

"-not to mention the lives you could've lost with you're poor aim and-" It was amazing how long Chopin could go without realizing either men were paying any attention.

"Stand down, Captain!" this drew a silence from the man. Pulling rank was something Smith rarely did, "I can understand you're anger at me for my actions, but if you make fun of my aim one more time, I'll have you cleaning all of the latrines in this ship, I don't care if you've just been promoted to @#%$ Chancellor!"

Dead silence. Krauze was no longer grinning, but Smith could see it in his eyes that he was rocking with silent laughter. Chopin stared in horror for a second, glanced over to Krauze as if he expected him to say something, and finally sped out of the room grumbling death threats under his breath.

There was a few more seconds of complete silence, and after they were sure nobody was listening, they burst into fits of laughter. It was something Smith had not done since before the Ugly Duckling had been shot down and Skier had been killed. After a while it quieted down and they stood there in awkward silence for a few more minutes.

"So whats the ETA on..." Smith began, but then he furrowed his brow, "Wait a minute. Where are we going, anyway?"

"Plans for destination were onboard the Tranquil," Krauze muttered as if to himself, "Whatever happened to them, they didn't even get out a distress signal, let alone co-ordinates."

"So we're flying without a destination?" Smith asked.

"No," Krauze replied, a grin forming on his lips, "Eventually we'll stop whether we want to or not."

Smith knew what that meant. It was an uncommon thing, but it was inevitable if one flew in a wormhole for too long. Total reactor breakdown. But if that happened, not only would they stop, they'd be vaporized or asphyxiated. Whichever got to them first.

As if on cue, the ship rocked, and Smith braced himself for death. It never came, and the Zenith Admiral realized it wasn't reactor failure. Rather, it was the rocking a ship maked when it exited a wormhole. Smith narrowed his eyes.

"Has Chopin gone mad?" Smith asked to himself. He turned to Krauze, but the man was already out the door.

Jargulan Prime Asteroid Belt - Area 219 Monitoring Station
2410 Andoz Standard Clock

"Looks like we're gonna have some fun after all, eh Jeremy?" John said, grinning at the pilot.

"Yeah...some real fun alright..."

Jeremy checked the status on his M78 for the tenth time. He was nervous as hell, and who wouldn't be? Four Excalibur pilots against three troop ships-worth of Yuuzhan Vong? Jeremy didn't liked those odds, but it seemed that nothing could get John down. Maestro wore his usual poker-face, and Angel wore her sadistic grin.

The four were lucky. Some idiot had put a survival kit in the plans for the Excalibur when they were originally made. With the kit were two Gauss Rifles. When Jeremy learned about this, he could think of no possible scenario that such a kit would be useful in, but he was glad the manufacturers were too stubborn to take the thing out.

Angel's Gauss Rifle opened up in a blaze of sound, light, and bullets. A Vong that had casually entered the room was dead before he even noticed anything was wrong. Two more rushed in, alerted by the gunfire, with thudbugs in their hands. John and Maestro opened up, tearing into the aliens.

"I've written down the directions to the control center onto paper." John said, "If we can get there, we can seal off the main control center and cut life support from everywhere else."

"Roger that. Good work, John." Jeremy replied.

Following John's directions, they made their way toward the control center. The Vong, with no reason to believe any humans left to be sneaking around, had relaxed their guard almost to the point of nonexistance. Along the way to the control center, they came across two patrols, both made up of only two aliens. They were quickly dispatched.

Angel, however, had been convinced one of the guards had stayed alive long enough to open up a villip channel somewhere, and the control center would certainly be aware of their presence if they had heard the gunfire. Vong didn't use Andozian technology. They thought it to be inferior. In many ways it was.

"Alright. Here we are," John said at last. They were standing before a large hatchway, "Hold on."

He pulled out his laptop that he had carried with him, and started typing away on it. His expression got more and more frustrated, and none of them dared break his concentration. Finally he grinned, and looked up at them.

"What did you do?" Jeremy asked at last.

"I tricked some of the electronic defenses into shooting out gas into the room," John replied, beaming, "That should take care of most, if not all of them. Hold on! We've got to wait for the gas to dissipate."

John turned the laptop toward them, and on the screen they could see a room filled with gas and a lot of dead Vong. A couple were still staggering around and choking, but eventually they too fell. It took a couple more minutes for the gas to fully dissipate, but finally John gave them the okay.

Maestro turned the wheel and pulled the hatch open. They all rushed inside. A Vong who was barely alive raised his amphistaff in meager defense, but Jeremy filled his body with bullets. John rushed over to the main controls and started fiddling around. The rest of them kept their eyes on the hatch.

"Interesting, very interesting," John muttered to himself, grinning, "Hey guys. It seems the Bugs didn't take this station as completely as we thought..."

"You mean there are other survivors?" Maestro asked.

"Yep," John replied, "By my count, around ten. The Vong could have made the defenses gas them anytime they wanted. Stupid aliens."

"Yet we're the ones running," Angel said darkly.

"Close that hatch, will you?" John said. Jeremy did as he asked, "I'm sealing off the control center and the room the survivors are holed up in from the rest of the station."

Two more doors snapped into place over the hatchway. On John's monitor of the security camera of the survivor's room, two more doors did likewise. The survivors perked up, startled looks on their faces. John could only imagine what was going through their heads just then.

"Cutting off life support from all other areas," John said. There was a hissing sound outside the hatchway, "Life support cut. All Vong life signs gone. Rebooting life support. Life support back to normal. Unsealing rooms."

"Are there any ships on this station?" Jeremy asked, "Ones that can travel through wormholes?"

"Didn't you see it when we came in?" John asked, "One of those scout ships is in the hangar. Like your and...and my dad used to fly."

"Can they fit fourteen people?" Jeremy winced but otherwise ignored what John had said.

"Thats an affirmative." John confirmed.

"Lets go."

"Oh @#%$..."

"What?" Jeremy turned around. This didn't sound good.

"@#%$! Why didn't I think of that?!" John screamed, "We've got an ETA of five minutes to get to those survivors and off this rock before it goes boom!"

"What? Why?"

"Standard military protocols, Jeremy," John said, "No trace of the wormholes co-ordinates must be left for the Vong to find. I've downloaded the co-ordinates onto my laptop. I can upload it to the ship after we're outta' here. Now lets go! Four minutes, thirty seconds!"

It was a race to the finish line, and Jeremy didn't like the odds. Four and a half minutes to get ten people from one side of a military station to the other and onto a ship? The standard pre-flight tests took twice that.

Following John's directions they managed to get there with two minutes and twenty seconds to spare. The almost pulled the hatch right off its hinges in their desperate attempt to get it open. Two barrels of M78s greeted them.

"Frell! Hold your fire!" Jeremy yelled.

"They're humans!" one of the survivors yelled back, "How in the frell?"

"No time! We gotta get moving!" John yelled back, already halfway down the hall.

"Whats his problem?" another survivor asked before being pulled roughly along by Maestro.

"Attention all survivors of Area 219 Monitoring Station!" Jeremy yelled as loud as he could. He was running too, "We now have two minutes to get off this rock before it explodes! LETS GO!"

This got people's attention. It was a mad dash from the survivor's quarters to the hangar bay, but somehow, in their panicked adrenaline rush, they managed to get there with a minute left. Rumbling could already be heard from deep within the station's interior.

Once everyone was safely aboard, Jeremy and John rushed to the cockpit. The boarding hatch closed and sealed up airtight. Jeremy flipped on various switches furiously in a desperate attempt to get the ship activated in a time that was unheard of. John briefly scanned all of the systems, knowing that even if there was something wrong with one, they couldn't do anything about it.

The familiar hum of engines echoed throughout the ship, and Jeremy took his first breath in what seemed like since he had learned of their startling time limit. John put the craft into a hover while simultaneously deactivating the landing gear.

"Ten seconds!" John yelled, "Frell Jeremy this is gonna be close!"

"Just hold on, John!"

Jeremy pulled on the controls as hard as he could, and the scout ship rocketed out of the asteroid seconds before it lit up in a fireworks display. It not became a matter of outrunning the shockwave and avoiding asteroids at the sime time, but somehow they managed to clear the field.

"Frell that was close..." John muttered, slumping back into his seat.

"We're not out of the woods yet," Jeremy said, "Have those co-ordinates ready for me, John!"

"Oh @#%$!"

And just then John saw it. The massive Yuuzhan Vong warfleet was practically in reaching distance from the tiny scout ship. Jeremy once more kicked the engines into as fast as they could go, and somehow they managed to get past. They were at the jump point.

"Jeremy! Fighters!" John yelled, "@#%$, does this thing even have weapons?!"

"Maestro! Angel!" Jeremy yelled back into the rest of the ship, "Get on those quad cannons!"

In a matter of seconds the scout ship's two quad cannons were lighting up space. In a few more seconds the five coralskippers' lasers joined the display. It used up all Jeremy's skill and energy for months to avoid those dancing beams long enough for Maestro and Angel to pick them off, but somehow they managed it, and half a minute later, they were safely in the wormhole.

"John..." gasped Jeremy, exhausted.

"Yeah Jeremy?"

"How're we gonna know where the convoy exits?" Jeremy asked.

"I don't know..." John replied, sitting up, his eyes wide, "Frell, I don't know..."