Jedi Insurgency 190

Whilst Corvus was distracting Thrawn, and drawing aggro from the TIE fighters, Yon, Jax, and the men of the Bad Batch were conducting their rescue/elimination mission. 

Jax gripped onto a handhold within the shuttlecraft, and grimly set his mouth into a thin line as the extremely expensive custom Hutt craft plunged toward the hangar of the Executrix. Nar Shaddaa’s polluted glow bled through the viewport. All the neon haze and smog was illuminated by bright green flashes, and the sound of all too close explosions. 

Yon was piloting the ship, and flying like a madman. Although to the outside world, they appeared invisible, that didn't mean his rival didn't have to dodge roaring squadrons of TIEs, or evade sudden bursts of turbolaser fire. If even a glancing blow struck them, their cloak would break, and the odds of success would doubtlessly diminish. 

Standing at the rear of the shuttle, he was silent, and stood steadily in place, despite the rough ride. Snow-white hair framed his pale face, unmoving despite the turbulence. His ice-blue eyes were closed.

The events of the last half hour had wounded him in ways that he hadn't prepared himself for. Betrayal was a bitter fruit, one he thought he had learned to overcome. Glancing at the clones beside him, he wondered if there would come a day when they too turned their backs on him. Should they fail to rescue Omega, would these men who swore loyalty to his Master walk away? Would all those oaths of brotherhood wash away like a sandcastle on the ocean? 

Jax was not stupid, he had already seen some of the cracks begin to form. Unfortunately, all he could do was his best. 

That was all a Jedi should ever be asked. His Master had put everything on the line against Maul, just as he had done against Beldorion. If anyone was to bear the burden of protector, then he should be the one to carry that weight. 

He breathed, opening himself to the Force. 

The smog filled world was filthy, yet he pressed his own aura upon the universe, affecting it with a cold air. A dash of the Dark mixed with an abundant well of Light, creating a wholly distinct feeling from the oppressive cold most Darksiders exuded. Instead of cold fury, he released a feeling of sharp focus. Like winter air before a storm, his cold carried with it the kind of clarity a man might find when a bucket of ice water is dumped upon him. This sensation wasn't pleasant, not by a long shot. But it awakened him to the subtle pulse of the universe, enhanced his cognition, regeneration, and speed in ways that traditional meditation did not. 

A subtle aura of beastly majesty began to condense around his shoulders, and in his closed eyes, like an ancient Zilo beast sitting atop the apex of an entire planet's food chain. 

For a moment, this beastly arrogance generated feelings of anger, but the icy winds of his psyche cooled the beast prowling in his mind, transforming it into a prowling hunter, waiting to unleash its power at the most optimal moment. 

From within this meditative state, Jax regained the energy he had donated to his Master, and exhaled a misty breath. Several icy crystals formed at the tips of his hair, and the Force thrummed its approval around him. 

Opening his senses, he felt the panels of the shuttlecraft bend and expand in a constant, sustained rhythm. Yon's own unique meditation method was on full display. 

Turning his attention to the Bad Batch, he slightly opened his eyelids, and beheld them. Nervous on the inside, these professional killers were going through one last check before the assault began. 

“Three minutes until breach.” Tech muttered, fingers dancing across a datapad. “Imperial hangar control hasn’t noticed us yet, but that margin is rapidly shrinking the closer we draw near. The likelihood of catching a stray hit, and being forcibly decloaked is roughly 70%.”

“So they'll discover us early? Good.” Wrecker rumbled, rolling his shoulders, and cracking the knuckles on two massive fists. “I was hopin for a warm welcome anyway.”

“I trust in Yon's piloting.” Jax added. 

Hunter glanced at Jax, to which he subtly responded with a small, reassuring nod. 

“Although we don't have the schematics for this ship in particular, the design isn't much different from a Venator. I reckon the holding cells are positioned in similar locations. The plan's simple. We hit hard, move fast, and stop for nothing.” Hunter declared, subtly agreeing with Jax's words, and getting everyone's heads in the game. 

“A map should be easy to obtain. Once we clear the first room, I'll hack their systems, and provide a copy to everyone.” Echo chimed in. 

“If we're comparing this SD to a Venator, then there should be at least 20,000 troopers stationed aboard that beast. That's not withstanding the other naval personnel.” Tech said whilst fiddling with his datapad. 

“So we mow them down.” Crosshair snorted, and brandished his gun.

“Krump'em good!” Wrecker bloodthirstily agreed. 

“Easy now, brothers. Mighty as we are, equipped with state of the art power armor, we are still only five men. Even a Jedi, against that many foes, isn't guaranteed success.” Hunter raised his hands, and spoke as the voice of reason. 

“You fools will never learn.” Yon's voice spat across the comms. His tone was derisive, and clearly doubting their intelligence. 

Jax wanted to mimick their Master, and sigh, yet a small part of him agreed with his rival. Remaining silent, he let the situation play itself out. 

“In a narrow hallway, a Jedi is invincible! Jax alone can serve at the vanguard. You five will only serve as garnish, probably even slowing him down.” Yon chuckled. “Besides, how many troops are needed to assault the Ongree enclave? This mission should be a cakewalk.” 

Jax didn't know if he should accept the ‘praise’ but he was reading something unsaid between the lines. 

“You say I am to be the vanguard, what are your plans?” Jax spoke, before Wrecker or anyone else could offer a rebuke. 

“We are sneaking our way onto this SD, I intend to keep my streak going. Whilst you idiots are engaged in a forward frontal assault, I'll be operating according to my training. You Prince Charming can go save the Princess, it's what you're good at. Leave the traitor to me.” Yon spoke darkly, his presence in the Force briefly taking on an oppressive quality, shutting the clones up. 

Jax pursed his lips, and frowned. Betrayal hurt both of them. Although Yon wasn't particularly sociable-neither was he to be honest-they spent countless hours together, and whilst Triss & Omega annoyed his rival, Jax had sensed acceptance. Yon was slow to trust anyone, and had come to view Triss & Omega as one of their own. As part of the family. Although he kept his thoughts close to his chest, Jax was certain that Yon was hurting just as much-or more-than he was. 

Breathing out a wintery breath, Jax slowly nodded in acceptance. 

“Okay.” 

“You five go ahead, me and shorty will hunt the bitch down.” Crosshair-matching Yon's edgy aura-darkly spoke from his corner of the shuttlecraft. 

Wrecker seemed torn between each camp, ultimately holding his tongue. 

“It's settled then.” Hunter clapped, then turned to Tech with an inquiring look. 

“Thirty seconds.” The genius pushed up his goggles, and stated with certainty. 

As if on cue, the turbulence suddenly picked up once more, as turbolasers the size of a bus flew by, passing over & under the shuttlecraft by less than 10ft. 

“I will cover the breach. Stay behind me, I will protect you.” Jax slowly spoke, each word was laced with confidence, and backed up by the Force. 

He was their Knight, and they were his troops. Like the Jedi Lords of old, he would stride into battle, defending those that were worthy. 

“I like this kid.” Wrecker grinned, and roughly patted Jax on the shoulder. 

“With Ghost taking point, I feel much more confident already. What's 20k?!” Echo raised his voice, shouting with some false bravado to liven everyone else up. 

“Kid…thanks. We won't forget this.” Hunter met his eyes, and firmly nodded, then slammed his helmet over his head. 

Jax slowly exhaled, well aware of what may be. Then, the shuttle passed through the SD's hangar's barrier, and landed with a hiss. Channeling the Force, a mist-like breath passed from himself, and entered each of the troopers. A unique spin on [Force Valor] that he had learned from his Master, this version also carried with it the cold-attributed mental enhancements that he had gained via meditation. 

Seconds later, the shuttle slammed down, its mag-clamps were released, and the rear ramp hissed open. Emerging from seemingly nothing-as the shuttlecraft was still invisible-Jax ignited his twin lightsabers. Blue azure coated his wintery visage, the hum of the blades sang in the Force, causing every clone, and naval trooper in the hangar to unconsciously look his way. 

Datapads fell from hands, fuel canisters being reloaded into waiting TIE's clattered to the floor, and dozens of non-clone naval personnel on duty froze in place. 

A frosty psyche pressed down upon the Imperials. When they stared into those blue eyes, it was like looking at a predator, like meeting a big cat in the jungle! Fight or flight instincts kicking in, almost everyone was stuck, unable to so much as utter a squeak! 

The beast in the snow had made his presence known! 

Buffed by all the abilities he had learnt from his Master, Jax was exuding an aura of majesty, and dominance. 

Unwilling to needlessly kill, he offered these soldiers a way out. 

“Kneel.” His voice was not tyrannical, or laced with the fear of nightmares or shadows, as his Master's often was. Instead, his tone carried with it the grace of an alpha lion looking down upon the herd. 

To the Imperials, listening to this command was like acting on instinct. A baby cried when it was hungry, a penguin could swim when tossed into water, and these people in this moment found it most natural to KNEEL. 

Even the veteran clones had no choice, but to go against their training, and the brain chips, and fall to their knees. 

“An interesting application of psionics. Unfortunately, machines hold no such complications.” Thrawn's voice came through the loudspeakers. 

Seconds later, dozens of automatic turrets popped out of the ceiling from many different angles, and began to drop comprehensive fire upon them.

Red bolts streaked through the hangar in violent arcs, hammering the ramp, and breaking the shuttlecraft's invisibility. Yon retaliated, and began to indiscriminately launch lasers, and missiles into the hangar. 

Several surrendered sailors were caught in the crossfire, and were reduced to slag. Jax glared at the cockpit, but after firing the opening salvo, Yon was already gone, doubtlessly advancing to complete his mission whilst they drew aggro. Mechanical fists tightening around his lightsabers, he parried away several bolts, destroying a turret or two, and then advanced. 

Imperial clone troopers poured into the hangar as alarm klaxons rang. Moving in from the far door, they took up position behind resting TIEs, and various black colored crates. Some ran up on some scaffolding, and began unleashing red bolts down upon them. 

Jax moved.

He stepped forward into the blistering bolts like an unceasing blizzard. 

The first volley never reached the Bad Batch, as Jax had caught it all. Sabers spinning at intense speeds, he bounced back shot after shot. Bolts screamed away, ricocheting into troopers, cracking armor, and permanently dropping a dozen men within seconds. 

Each step was grounded with the aura of a hunting beast in winter, his presence pushing outward through the Force like a shiv of ice pressed upon the throat. Every move promised death. 

Blaster bolts were deflected with minimal motion, and when a trooper closed the distance, Jax turned his wrist and disarmed him in a single stroke. 

Literally. 

Plastoid armor clattered to the floor, as one man fell into pieces. Hopping over a ship, his sabers dangerously glowed, as he cut one gun down the middle, and thrust forward into the man who held it. Then, continuing with his momentum, swung with his left saber along the wing of the TIE. The ship lost its balance, and collapsed upon the squad, crushing them before they could spring their ambush. 

Behind him, the Bad Batch surged out.

Hunter fired in short, lethal bursts, bringing one man down each time he took sight. Crosshair took heads with surgical calm, each shot placed where Jax’s movements herded the enemy. Tech rolled forward, deploying a pulse charge that sent a cluster of troopers crashing into a hangar wall. Wrecker laughed and followed the charge with a rotary cannon in his hands, large laserbolts tore men-and cover-apart as its barrels glowed orange from extreme heat. 

The hangar became a storm of light, sound, and explosions. Lifting a hand, Jax raised a fuel canister, then slammed it down onto an enemy position. 

“Hunter!” 

“On it!” The clone commando growled. 

Placing a perfect shot on the fuel tank, a fire ball bloomed overhead, directly eliminating another squad. 

During this easy victory, he paused in his step before reaching the hallway door, as he felt them. 

Not clones, or even cyborgs. 

Force Sensitives. Dark Jedi. Sith. Whatever they were, darkness followed. 

A cold flicker in the Force, buried deep within the ship’s spine sang out. It was familiar, yet alien at the same time. 

Triss.

Jax’s jaw tightened imperceptibly.

She was close, she knew they were here, and she wasn't alone. 

Narrowing his eyes, he exhaled a turbid, misty breath as he sensed a faint glimmer of Omega next to Triss. 

“Your sister is being held hostage by the traitor, and at least two Dark Jedi are advancing on our position as I speak” Jax coldly uttered, and then without another word, his lightsabers diced the locked door leading to the hallway into pieces, and advanced into the waiting Imperial defenses. 

Without giving them a second thought, he diced through man after man, his goal was set, his friend would be rescued. 

‘Hold on Omega…I'm coming for you!!!’ 

Winter had come to the Executrix.