Colla IV orbit
In the Colicoid hierarchy, the position of Representative to the Greater Hive was of extraordinary importance, bestowed with substantial powers and wide-sweeping jurisdictions. Din Tok could count on one clawed appendage the number of Colicoids with the superseding authority to give him orders. The Queen of the Colicoid Creation Nest was one of those privileged few, and her determinations amounted to just that: orders.
She no doubt considered her offer to be more than generous. After all, she was a creature of business, of costs and benefits. Her function within their society was to weigh risk and reward. To her, the value of a few tens of thousands of stock B1 battle droids was determined solely by their worth in hard currency, and from such a perspective she had just handed Din Tok a small fortune to dispense with as he saw fit.
Din Tok, however, was being forced to think in terms of military effectiveness, and without a Central Control Computer, these droids were of no use at all. These were base model, pre-Clone Wars droids with no hardware upgrades or supplementary software. It had been nearly half a century since they had been activated, and there was no guarantee that they would be in working order even if Din Tok could get his hands on a Control Computer.
At his request, Din's counterparts at Skor II were searching the inventory lists of the Squib orbital scrapyards for a working computer, but at the moment it seemed entirely plausible that Din Tok would arrive at the combat rendezvous with nothing more than thirty thousand blaster rifles inconveniently encased in folded piles of scrap metal.
The Queen would offer him no more assistance and the Sovereign Nest would not be receptive enough to grant him emergency access to planetary defense resources while the Cooperative's military was spread so thin, but Din Tok could not leave Colla IV until he was certain he had usable assets in hand. He would not allow the Colicoid to be the first species of the Greater Hive to fail in its obligations to its hive-mates.
That left the Colicoid representative with only one course of action.
Din Tok rushed into the central control chamber of the Colla IV Planetary Defense Sub-Garrison Five in a frenzy of vulgar hand gestures and menacing shrieks. “Commander! I am the representative of the Colicoid Sovereign Nest to the Greater Hive of the United Cooperative, and I demand the honor guard which my station warrants and requires.”
The garrison commander, initially stunned by Din's unexpected and violent arrival, recovered quickly and did not take kindly to the diplomat's demands. He pulled back his shoulders to more clearly show the rank patterns painted on his chest. His words were as coarse and biting as Din Tok's. “My duty is to the Sovereign Nest, and I do not―”
I don't have time for this. Din Tok lunged at the commander, cleaving the officer's right arm off with a lightning strike of his clawed hand. Din drove himself into the commander, the strike carefully delivered to overwhelm the Colicoid's naturally sturdy posture. Din drove the commander to the ground and stood atop him, the sharp points of his feet positioned precisely to dig into the vulnerable joints of the commander's exoskeleton.
Realizing he had scarce seconds to establish his superiority, Din shifted his stance to apply greater pressure to a particular vulnerability, then lifted the dismembered arm to his mouth, taking a bite from the jagged stump. As he ground the mouthful of meat and broken chitin in his mouth, she swiveled his head to look down at the incapacitated commander.
Din didn't much care for cannibalism. He preferred more mammalian meats, personally. But it was important that the creature pinned beneath him understood the gravity and urgency of the situation. This crisis demanded action, and so Din Tok had taken action.
“You fool! You have assaulted a member of the Nest Guard. My arm―”
“Will grow back in a few month's time,” Din said through his mouthful of raw flesh. He pressed harder with the preferred leg, eliciting a faint scraping noise as his pointed foot slipped through the commander's carapace and pressed directly against soft flesh. “Use that time to consider how a pathetic jelly-eater such as myself managed to take it from you. Now . . .”
Hissing vehemently beneath the weight of what amounted in his society to a diplomat, the commander at last relented. “Take what you require.”
As Din climbed off of his victim and stalked away, he swallowed the mouthful of flesh with an unsettling
gulp. He threw the arm back at its owner as he left the control chamber.
* * *
The Squib Needleship
Rusted Ruin was nothing special to look at, wasn't even the on-sight command ship for the Squib salvage squadron assigned to Karideph. But this ship was Thaddeus' pride and joy, and today he felt the weight of responsibility that his position entailed.
And now that his fine ship was parked safely in orbit of Karideph, awaiting rendezvous with a local transport to pick up an industrial waste shipment, he had all the time he needed to stare at the world below and consider his mission.
Thaddeus had expected to find a vibrant world absolutely enveloped in green, even had a fanciful notion that he might be able to spot the patterns in the meticulously maintained farmlands with his naked eyes. Instead, he was met by a brown-black ball with too-dark oceans, a sickly green clinging to its shores. Massive gray smudges covered huge sections of the surface; he recognized smog from mass-industrialization immediately.
The Kari were somewhat well-known regionally for producing smaller electronics and mechanical parts, things that could be easily manufactured in their sprawling, underground habitats from cheap, on-world resources. But the scale of the environmental poisoning that Thaddeus saw just from looking at the planet told him much had changed in only a few short years.
This world was dying, and its own people were being forced to kill it.
A minor alarm sounded, pulling Thaddeus back into his captainly duties, checking his instrumentation for the source. “What's this all about?”
“Sorry, Captain,” his first officer said. “We're picking up high-level radiation from the approaching ship, probably our cargo. Nothing to worry about, ray shields are powering up to ten percent and the cargo bay can contain it once its loaded on-board. We'll be fine.”
Thaddeus studied the sensor information for a moment, something catching his attention. “These energy readings from that tug look too low for it to have its shields up.”
The systems operations officer answered immediately. “Yes, sir, the ship looks to be unshielded.”
“Run a full sensor scan. Tell me if the pressurized sections are shielded from radiation.”
“Will do, Captain.”
The seconds ticked by and Thaddeus' fears grew more intense.
“No . . . sir. No environmental shields, no radiation resistant materials . . . the crew is completely unprotected from their cargo.”
Thaddeus waited for his officer to finish his report because he appreciated thoroughness and respected the Squib enough not to cut him off in mid-sentence, but the captain had made up his mind with the first word. He spoke his newest order the second the report ended. “Hail them.”
The communications officer didn't even acknowledge, just started flipping switches.
A delay, and then: “No response, Captain.”
“Multiple frequencies,” the captain ordered without delay.
“Still nothing, sir.”
Thaddeus allowed himself the slightest pause before deciding to break any serious protocol. “Use the local traffic control channels.”
“I'm sorry, captain, there's still no response.”
The captain ground his teeth, his anger building. “Try the emergency and distress channels, then.”
Finally, a response came. But it was audio only, an unintelligible string of clicks and buzzes.
“Can you translate?”
A beep sounded from the communications station as the main viewport switched to display an approaching local security ship: a
Strike-class cruiser.
“Open the channel,” the captain said grimly, not needing to be explained the situation by his crew.
A particularly ugly human male appeared on the screen, his own expression just as angry as Thaddeus'. “You have no business contacting our employees! All communications are to be routed through security and patrol craft, do you understand?”
Thaddeus did his best to keep his voice level and his anger suppressed, aware that this was the moment he had been waiting for. “I have concerns, captain, that local safety measures do not adhere to the standards for health and safety established by the Squib Merchandising Consortium, which would therefore render our contract void. If I am not allowed to ensure the safe working environment of my associates, then I am sorry to inform you that I must remove myself and my ship from this work.”
The human sneered at Thaddeus, giving a short hand gesture to his own crew. “We have a contract with the Squib Merchandising Consortium for waste removal services.”
Thaddeus' first mate cut in urgently. “Sir, they're charging weapons . . . we're being targeted!”
“I won't let you leave until a replacement ship arrives to take over your assignments.”
Thaddeus did his best to stand taller and stare the burly human down. “I'll have you know that I am a registered member of the Cooperative Workers' Party and a confirmed citizen of the Galactic Coalition, and I do not take your threat against my person and property lightly.”
The man laughed menacingly, waiving at his crewmen again and nodding in affirmation of something unseen. “I know all about your 'coalition law' and 'Workers' Party duties'. Our contract is with the Squib, and that means our little disagreement here ends with the Squib. This is a business arrangement, and you have no legal standing with which to bring the Coalition military into this. Your own king made sure of that when he signed your world into the Cooperative.”
So this wasn't just some big dumb brute after all. These people had known what they were getting in to all along, knew how much the Consortium valued its independence from outside influence. And they obviously thought they'd be able to push the Squib around easily enough if any trouble ever arose. But there was one fatal flaw in their planning.
The Squib had friends, and those friends had laws of their own.
The Twi'lek Joiner, YoggoyStin, stepped into the imager's field of view, his posture stiff and unnatural, his voice flat and neutral. “We are of the Kind. We are Yoggoy; we are Killik. We will not suffer your crimes.”
The human wore his confusion and frustration clearly on his face. “What the hell . . .”
The small cluster of starships reverting to realspace answered his hanging question.
“Life is sacred, and we shall defend it. Surrender, or perish.” As he said the words, the slightest smile grew for the shortest moment on YoggoyStin's face.
And then the battle was on and Thaddeus had more important things to take note of. “Shields to full, and run!”
The heavily modified mining barge
Rak'ka was designed for long-term operation in high-volatility areas. Her heavy hull armor and extensive shielding should prove a formidable opponent to the hostile lasers and missiles. Her expansive cargo bay had already proven to be an ideal residence for the Squib-salvaged Central Control Computer.
Din Tok watched with anticipation from the observation deck-turned-command center as the wave of dropships and landing craft dispersed across the surface of the planet, each one escorted by a small swarm of Killik dartships. The Killik motherships, a pair of
Shard-class vessels carved out of asteroids from the other side of the galaxy, were wholly incapable of escorting Din to his destination, and so they were moving to harass the bulk of the enemy space force, a small cluster of
Strike Cruisers and corvettes supporting an Assault Frigate.
“They must be making some serious profit to be able to support such a substantial fleet,” Procurator Juri mused from his seat beside Din Tok. He hesitated a moment, risking an uncomfortable glance at the Colicoid mission leader. “Do you think the Killik will be alright against them?”
Din hissed in nervous apprehension, though he knew the Squib would misinterpret it as dangerous annoyance. “It's not our concern. Focus on the task at hand.”
“Right!” the Squib exclaimed, jumping to his feet and checking the settings on the tensor rifle strapped to his side. “We're ready at your command!” he added excitedly.
The little rodent had abandoned all fear after Din's reluctant request for assistance, and though Din had to admit that the Procurator had shown incredible ingenuity and dedication in assisting the Hive in this endeavor, he rather missed the power of fear he had once held over the ratty scavenger. “You know, you don't have to come along personally.”
“Nonsense!” Juri waived the comment away. “We've got a planet to save, and where my boys go, I go.”
As the ship shook beneath them with the telltale signs of atmospheric entry, Din Tok clambered out of his special-made seat and made for the exit. “It's almost time, then.”
Juri rushed after, the quick steps of his short legs contrasting sharply with the skittering, four-legged gait of the Colicoid.
The unlikely pair arrived at the modified cargo bay to a far more unlikely sight: several dozen Squib commandos manning Old Republic gunships, surrounded by B2 Battle Droids, Droidekas, and over in the corner, barely short enough to keep from scraping across the ceiling, a carrier variant of the gunship had been rigged to carry a Scorpenek annihilator droid.
“We're gonna bring some pain,” the Squib said quietly, awestruck by all of the gleaming metal.
“Just stay close to me,” Din replied. “The droids are programmed to protect me, not fight a war. And the Scorpenek's shield only covers a small area around it. You stay close to me, I'll stay under it, and we'll both stay safe. Tell your air support to stay out of the droids' way and let them handle the assault, just focus on any fighters or air speeders that come running home.”
“Will do, you're in charge here.” Juri checked his tensor rifle again. And then again.
He was getting nervous, and it was completely understandable. This plan was utterly insane. But it had to be done.
The cargo bay doors opened, the magcon field only partially succeeding in protecting the bay from the tremendous wind forces outside, the barge coming in at full speed.
“Strap in,” Juri shouted, jumping into the back seat of a droid-piloted open-top speeder. “We've got a battle to win!”
Din climbed uncomfortably into the humanoid-fitting passenger's seat, then nodded his head as a personal attempt at motivation. The droids had all loaded into their own transports, the gunships systems primed. They were passing over the drop zone now: Din could tell by the ground-based defensive fire streaking by the open bay door. “Launch!”
The small force of gunships and repulsorlift transports surged forward, adopting a downward spiral flight maneuver as soon as they had cleared the barge. Almost immediately, the Squib gunships had to break off to intercept incoming enemy aerial craft, but the droid ground troops continued their evasive descent, refusing to shy away in the face of increasingly intense ground fire.
They dove straight for the source of the ground fire, the expansive central garrison of the planet's occupiers, an extensive complex housing tens of thousands of mercenaries and privately contracted “security” personnel.
The force pulled up at the last possible moment, skidding across the barren plain that had once been a massive Kari farmland, then powering forward into the city structure at more manageable speeds.
As soon as they had gained the cover of the buildings, the battle droids debarked from their transports and split into mission-specific squads. At the head of the main assault force, Din Tok and Juri stood beneath the towering Skorpenek annihilator droid, flanked on all sides by droidekas, backed up by columns of B2's. Din Tok walked boldly down the city's Main Street, the entire droid force marching forward in response. Far ahead, callously and artificially forced into the organic structure of the insect city, the massive durasteel walls of the enemy garrison loomed.
They were already receiving fire from the buildings along the street, but Din Tok just kept marching, without concern for the battle droids falling left and right, protected by the enveloping shield of the Scorpenek. The large annihilator droid itself was constantly pivoting at the torso, bringing its pair of dual blaster cannons to bear at whatever the tactical analysis of its droid brain determined to be the next-greatest immediate threat. It sprayed waves of destructive energy into the alien architecture, on more than one occasion setting off a cascading collapse of several structurally-interconnected buildings.
But the line of droid assailants marched on, and the looming walls grew nearer.
Finally, Din stopped, the droids reacting immediately by fanning out to secure the area. Din's droideka escorts stepped out of the protective field of their larger Skorpenek cousin, seeking positions from which their rapid-fire blasters could do the most harm.
Din simply pointed at the sealed blast doors ahead and said, “Open it.”
The Skorpenek immediately turned its heavy weapons on the armored structure, unleashing a stream of energy. These blasters were designed to cut through the toughest Republic tank and walker armor; they would make short work of the hodge-podge mercenary construction.
As the layers of the blast door began to fall off in glowing, molten chunks, Din Tok resumed his walk, and the droidekas came rolling back to their escort stations as the remaining battle droids returned their attention to him, though they remained in their new vantage points among the blasted-out native buildings.
When the final layer of the blast door fell away and a spray of enemy fire poured out of the hole, Din just said, “Keep firing.” Then he raised a commlink to his mouth and emitted a short string of clicking, insectoid noises.
A few seconds later Juri looked up in surprise as the muffled sound of a sonic boom penetrated the Skorpenek's shield perimeter. Overhead he saw an expanding cloud of vapor, the droid bomber which had dispensed it already out of sight. It was spreading in a circular pattern, fading indistinctly into the atmosphere, drifting rapidly toward the ground. It must have been dispersed by some sort of explosive to be spreading so quickly . . .
“What the hell is going on here?” Juri finally asked, growing concerned as he realized how soon the cloud would reach him, visible or not.
“Don't worry, the shield will protect us until it dissipates harmlessly.”
“What is it?” Juri demanded, pulling violently on the Colicoid's arm, an act he wouldn't have dared consider even a few days ago.
Din Tok turned to his Squib ally with a predatory grin unnaturally pasted across his already-menacing features. “It's a Joiner Bomb”.
