The Rebel Faction

Gash touched town with a dull thump, a small cloud of dust rising around him. He was well back of the main line of battle, now; only a few Chiss fighters surrounded him, firing in long-range fire into the battle. One, to his left, glanced Gash's way, turning his blaster on him. Effortlessly, Gash reached out with his senses, flinging out his lightsaber into the path of the Chiss' first blast. The redirected laser bolt struck the Chiss in the chest, snuffing the life from him instantly.

At about that moment, Gash's innate danger sense caused him to dive to the ground, rolling once. As he stood again from the dirt ground, he glanced back, noting the green disruptor blast where he'd stood. He turned, finally catching the Darktrooper Suit within his gaze. It was very near eight feet tall, heavily armored, and carrying within it's grasp the large disruptor cannon it had been devastating the Ossan forces with.

It appeared to notice him, also, as it turned it's smaller laser cannons on him and opening fire. Gash stood his ground, lightsaber whipping about and intercepting the blasts as they poured in. The high-powered cannons were able to reload quickly, and they stretched Gash's abilities to the limit, until the point where he finally disengaged the mech. Drawing on his powers in the Force, he leapt in the air, pulling himself to the left. As he set down, he turned to face the suit--only to see it had moved.

You are a fool, Jiren... you are week.

A massive fist of durasteel smashed into Gash's back, throwing him to the ground violently. Face to the ground, the Jedi Master coughed slightly, disoriented and stunned. He was lifted from the ground, then, his body clenched in the grip of the Exo-Suit.

The call in the Force rang again--and Gash realized, this time, that it's origin was the pilot of the Exo-Suit.

Yes, Jiren... now, you see. Now, you see who I am.

No. Gash responded in the Force. I have no idea--but this is my planet. And whoever you are, you're not welcome.

The lightsaber lifted from Gash's palm, floating slowly into the air towards the suit's arm. In a flash, it swept down, slicing off the Darktrooper suit's forearm in a spray of sparks and fire. Gash fell to the ground, tearing the huge metallic fist from him with several more slices of his lightsaber. The Exo-Suit staggered back, stuttering oddly before regaining the pilot regained his balance.

And from the speakers of the craft, came a voice, blaring even over the din of the battle still continuing. Gash's eyes flickered to the communications array, one hundred meters to his left...

'You can defeat me here, Jiren...' The voice blared, 'But you cannot defeat my master.'

"What-- Who are you?"

Gash spat on the ground as the exo-suit retreated, confused and unsure. A Chiss soldier rushed towards him, from the communications array at his left. Gash extended his saber arm as the soldier extended his rifle's bayonette, slicing a long swing across the Chiss' chest, dropping him. "Gah..." Gash sputtered.

Then, from his right, from the smoke and flame of the battle, strode a few familiar faces. N'iktal Jiren, Arrix Stryker, and the Yevethan commander. The latter two sprayed Gash's immediate area with laser blasts.

Arrix glanced to the left, his eyes widening as he saw the scene about fifty meters away; the Exo-Suit, standing under a bridge.

With hundreds of Chiss gathering about it, preparing to enter the battle from a strategically decisive position. A squad of Chiss rushed towards Arrix, then, distracting the younger Rogue Jedi. 'Gash! Over there--you have to stop them!' He yelled, pointing. Gash followed his lead, his glare narrowing in rage.

Xex, was his name... Xex Tirion. That much, Gash had gleaned from his brush with him in the Force.

He and his men were under a bridge--a bridge which also housed a major power cell transmission line. Gash's Force-enhanced sense of observation made that clear--and that the pipelines still house at least minor elements of the highly explosive power transmission fluid. Almost distractedly, he continued to block blaster shots, as N'iktal and the Yevethan continued to engage the enemy.

Time seemed to stop around Gash, as he looked down at the blue lightsaber in his hand. Those pipes were magnetically sealed... blasters would have no effect. Only his lightsaber could cut through there--and he'd need to throw it, and in doing so, the blade would be destroyed in the blast.

The blade he'd made one month after he'd abandoned the Dark Side of the Force.

The blade to which he was linked to strongly... the blade which embodied his new life as a Jedi.

Bitterly, Gash shut his eyes. This was, he had to admit with a reluctant ferocity, a new world. A new galaxy; a new war. A new war where there was no place for Jedi, or even Rogue Jedi. What had his abilities as a Jedi gotten him so far?

He'd followed Xireon on the basis of his Jedi instincts, and that had been used to oust him from the Order he'd created.

With a glance towards the dead lying on the battlefield, the effects of that were apparent. Not even his contacts with Diete Somir could save him from the Chiss fleet. The Force had abandoned Ossus, the Force had abandoned the Rogue Jedi Order, and the Force had abandoned Gash Jiren,

And now, he would abandon it.

With a grunt, he hurled his lightsaber towards the slightly distant bridge, the blue saber twirling end over end as Gash used the Force to hone it in on his target. In ten seconds, it closed the distance; five more, and it was feet away. Gash felt it strike the durasteel pipes, slicing into it, the ions of the blade reacting with the power generation fluid.

And in a second, the bridge exploded.

It collapsed in a maelstrom of fire and rubble, burying and blocking the Chiss, and singing even the Exo-Suit. A second more, and his lightsaber disappeared from his mental, Force-generated map. And with it, went his dedication to the Rogue Jedi Knights.

Disgusted, Gash turned from the firey sight, rushing towards the communications array. He bent for scarcely a second, scooping a blaster carbine from the corpse of a dead soldier. And then, he was in the array building.

Gash ascended the narrow, spiral staircase to the left, rushing up the stairs into a brightly lit comm centre. He shot the single Chiss defender in the face, mutilating and killing him. He stepped over him, moving to the nearest console, booting up the system and zeroing in on the standard Rogue Jedi Command frequency.

"Attention! Attention! This is Gash Jiren, repeat, Gash Jiren, calling for... whoever's in charge!"

'Gash? Is that you?' Responded a young voice on the other end.

"Yes... Captain Tellien?"

'Uh... General Tellien, yes. Where are you, Admiral?'

"I'm not an admiral anymore. I'm on the ground, in Orilcia... about a klick off of the Parliament Palice. Are you still in orbit?"

'Yes... we're defending our position, as we were ordered.'

"Ordered? By who!?"

'By Senator Musaile--' Tellien was cut off, and another voice cut in.

'Ex-Admiral Jiren. How did you secure this frequency?'

Gash's eyes narrowed. Musaile... on the power grab. "I invented this frequency, Senator. Put the General back on."

'Why do you need to speak to him?' Musaile asked derisively.

"Because I don't think you know what you're doing worth a damn. Put him on, now."

The sound of a scuffle came over the comm. 'G-gash... quick--'

"Tellien! Get those ships out of there! I am ordering a retreat--repeat, do not attempt to hold the position. These are Chiss and Imperials; you can't win!"

The blast of static interrupted everything on the New Republic command channel, shunting all conversations aside and silencing each and every one of them. Not a single voice remained on the channel... and Thrawn turned to Heirel, smiling slightly. He nodded, a signal to carry out his order to prepare a broadband transmission. Every craft in the Ossus system would hear this... each and every one. "A belated, but expected order, Master Jiren." Thrawn said, smiling with obvious relish.

There was a silence of about ten seconds, before Jiren's voice responded. 'Who is this...?'

"Who am I? I am the puppeteer behind the strings. The master of this domain; the one to whom you have been answering all this time. The commander, the master." Thrawn said, crafting a perfect speach.

'...what?'

"Yes. I am the one who has orchestrated all of this; from the corruption of the OsSec officers, to the first strike, to your order of retreat. Everything which has conspired today has done so by my design, and everything which is to come will occur because I have deemed it to do so. What use is your Force now, Mighty Jedi, when even you of such 'magnificent power' are so easily played?"

'What are you talking about?!' Jiren shouted into the commlink. 'Who is this!?'

"Angry, Jiren? Don't be. You couldn't have won, anyway; you are a pawn. Nothing but a pawn in a chess game where I am playing both your allies and enemies, where I am around every turn. Everything you have fought for, every bit of suffering you have endured this day, every sacrifice you have made, was for nothing. Nothing but a game, nothing but an experiment where I am holding every key. And now, it has come time to end that game. Order your retreat as you will, Jiren; throw away the only defenders Ossus has left."

'Who are you?'

"I, am the last of the Grand Admirals; the servant of the Empire; Mitth'raw'nuruodo. I am Grand Admiral Thrawn."

And then, nothing but silence. The most terrified silence in the history of Ossus.

OOC: Post away.

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Brannack Plateau.... Orilica<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->



"Area secured, Sir..." a major reported as the AT-ST's of the Empire pushed further into the Jedi city headed for a certain transmission station.

Kaine saw that the Major was troubled, as the two flanking Companies rejoined the main group.

Jedi temples, weapon placements and barracks burned in the distance.

"You don't approve?" he asked softly.

The Major flushed, but knowing he'd been caught, his determination found voice and he replied to his General, "I do not approve of the murder of civilians."

The soldiers around the General suddenly looked busily interested in other things and Kaine smiled inwardly.

"They are civilians, Major but innocents? I shall let you be the judge of that." Kaine turned to the command vehicle and motioned an officer over. "Lieutenant? Bring your scans of the temples here."

The results were given to the General and Kaine passed them over to the Major. "What do you see, Major?"

"Heat signatures, huddled in masses."

"Remove the spectrum indicated by body heat."

A flicker of the fingers and the signatures still remained.

"What? Power Cells?"

"Your usual, Major. Blasters, Rifles, Munitions... a regular armory. If we left these behind our positions, what do you think?.."

"Guerrilla warefare?

"It's a possibility and one I care not to face given the limited amount of troops I have. I don't like to waste men, Major or leave tactical advantages behind."


Suitably cowed, the Major mumbled, "Yes sir."


"Sir! We are getting a signal from Grand Admiral Thrawn! We are ordered to secure Ossan Parliament Palace."

"Damn!" Kaine nearly shouted.

"Sir?"

"The leader of the enemy forces is blind and cut off, as Thrawn must have wanted. To regain any chance of mounting a defense for this planet, one needs two things: Information and support, the kind one only can get from the government. We <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> were<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> going to aid the Admiral's forces at a transmission tower...but it looks like that is a lost cause. Thrawn is thinking two moves ahead."


"Secure point B if point A falls." the Major concluded.

"Exactly. Lieutenant? Inform the Grand Admiral that the Palace will be under Imperial control within the hour."

Kaine gave the signal for the companies to change direction.


Objective: Ossan Parliamentary Palace.



***

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Aboard the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Galactus<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--><!--EZCODE BOLD END-->


"Sir! A large force...reading as Hapan just flew into the Chiss forces!"

The Captain muttered, "Fools! Dumb, stupid, tactics-blind fools."


"Sir. The General's position is changing. They report heading for the government palaces."

"Track their progress and keep our guns ready to assit."

"Scanning Station? Is there any resistance they should expect?"

"Scanning.... The destruction of vessels in the stratospere is obstructing the scans."

"Blame the Hapans for that.."

"Wait..hold it... Images coming in.."

"Frell!"

"What is it..?" The Captain moved over to the station and he exhaled sharply.

"Great Emperor's Bones!"

Silence.

Gash Jiren stood in the communications array tower, fists balled, teeth clenched. He scarcely noticed Arrix, standing motionless behind him. Electricity crackled in his crimson eyes as he stared, speachless, at the display.

Grand Admiral Thrawn. The last, and most brilliant, of the Grand Admirals; of an elite group which the Emperor himself selected for their ingenuity, independance, and tactical ability. The very same Chiss who had died by the knife of his Noghri slave, Rukh. He had been the one pulling the strings, leading Jiren along by a rope and forcing him to dance to his tune. Yes...

Yes. Gash could see the truth in Thrawn's words. He'd seen the clues all along, he'd watched them from a distance and prayed they wouldn't add up to the very conclusion Thrawn had presented. The siege craft blocking the borders of Orilcia; the ambushes. Thrawn had set Orilcia up as an experiment; a controlled, inescapable experiment which was completely under his control. And even Gash's greatest efforts couldn't change that; he was fighting for nothing more than Thrawn's amusement.

The comm clicked again, then hummed slightly, meaning that a transmission was coming in on a tight band; one only Gash would hear. 'I thought I would say, Jiren, that between you and me, you have put up a fight beyond even my expectations. I am very impressed; that Chiss blood in you must be stronger than my intelligence sources tell me. And those sources would have to be very good to know about the Jiren family's secret Chiss lineage. 'I'm sorry that it must end.'

"I'll bet you are, coward." Gash said, his normally-calm voice rife with rage. "Couldn't even face my military in a fair fight... you and your Force-enhanced servants, and your Imperial lackeys."

'Ah, yes, my Achrions... they are magnificent, aren't they? I must say, your son enheirited your intelligence.'

Gash's teeth clenched tighter. The Achrions were Xireon's creation... "So what now, Thrawn? One last display of fireworks to end me?"

'About that. To be fair, this loss isn't one you could have avoided. From the moment that I set this in motion, one year ago, your fate was sealed. This event was merely the end, Jiren; the end of an encompassing plan, the end of you. And the beginning of a new legacy; a new Empire, a new galaxy.'

"You've tried to revive the Empire once, Thrawn. We'll stop you at every turn, because as long as you exist, so do we; you can never defeat the Republic."

'Oh, no, my dear Admiral, I have no intention of reviving the Empire. It is just as dead as I once was, and lives on only in the greed of those still loyal to the Emperor who killed his own creation. No, between you and me, the Rogue Jedi Order will not be the only misguided faction to fall today...' Thrawn's voice trailed off.

"You have it planned out perfectly, don't you, Admiral? My fall, your rise. The glory of whatever maligned Chiss faction you've drudged up from the Unknown Regions. Too bad that tactical genius of your's doesn't extend to your own demise--one Noghri seemed to be able to take out the infalliable Chiss Grand Admiral pretty well."

'Say what you will, Jiren. You are a pawn in a game far bigger than you are. It has been a pleasure dealing with you.'

A burst of static ended the transmission.
The two Rogue Jedi emerged from the communications array in a stunned silence, in stark contrast to the Ossan troops. Those who remained of the Ossan defenders, civilian, Yevethan, and otherwise, patrolled the broken battlefield looting the corpses of the Chiss. Weapons, armor, even food rations... all were things the Ossans lacked. So Jiren permitted the desacration of the Chiss corpses; after all, had there been corpses of the Ossans remaining to be desacrated, he could be sure that the Chiss would have done so. But even that consideration hadn't been taken; all that remained of a good deal of Ossus' population were nothing but cinders...

The sea of personnel parted as Gash approached, a cold silence enroaching over the troops. The Jedi Master made a horrifying figure; drenched in the blood of his foes, with a very real, grey-white electricity crackling about him. An aura of anger, of rage, was projected from him even to the soldiers without access to the Force. Arrix stood a ways behind Gash, seemingly distant and repelled by Gash's anger. The Yevethan general, himself soaked in the sweat and blood of battle, approached the two.

'Master Jiren. I trust our objective has been accomplished?'

Gash raised an eyebrow. Up until a minute ago, he hadn't understood a word of Yevethan... now, the voice came in loud and clear. In a second, he realized, it came through the Force... but what had changed about his access to the Force?

"Yes. We're finished here..." Gash paused, the crackling energy around him intensifying for a second. "And I know where we have to go. The heart of the enemy."

'Can we defeat them?'

"Does it matter? This is a game. And if Thrawn--" A few heads turned at the mention of the Chiss. "--wants to play, then we'll play. We'll play."

'Sir?' Came the voice of one of the Rogue Jedi Order generals from the left. 'We have a Hapan taskforce arriving from the east. They claim to be commanded by a Hapan taskforce in orbit... lead by a Hapes Prince.'

"Hapes?" Gash's mind flickered back... "Wasn't Senator Musaile a Hapan? Yes... we don't want their help."

'Sir... it would be adviseable--'

Gash cut him off with a well timed glare, punctuated by a burst of the electricity around his body. "Fine. Tell them to get moving towards the Ossan Parliament Palace... no Hapan had better get in my way." Gash said, turning and heading away from the communications array. "Because I won't hesitate..." And his hand instinctively went to the short sword still tapping lightly against his knee. It went there unconsciously to the weapon strapped on his belt, almost forgotten. A weapon which eminated evil from it's very core.

The Blade of Klain.