September 02, 2011

722. Hoth: King's Lair - Raezyr

Raezyr picked up the large duffel and slung it on his back. There had been more stuff than he'd remembered, but it still wasn't that much. He exited the room and trotted down the hallways of the base, memories filling his mind as he went. This place had practically been home since they had barely escaped Korriban many, many months ago. Once again, the big man found himself on the run from the Jedi, being forced out of a home. It had been the story of his life since he could remember.

His sadness quickly turned to anger and he allowed it to consume him, fuel his power. He could feel the familiar burn of the Dark Side as it raged hotter within, and he held it. Soon he'd need every ounce of it.

He stopped outside the control room and hefted the small orb in his palm for just a moment before flicking the timer on and tossing it inside. He slapped the controls to close the door and turned toward the hangar. In about 18 seconds, the computer memory banks would be atomized, as would anyone who was unfortunate enough to be within the five meter blast radius.

In the hangar, people ducked, ran and hit the deck when the tiny thermonuclear detonation took place, shattering the window between the control room and the hangar. Raezyr didn't bother to turn around, instead he continued his steady pace through the hangar as he knew he was safely outside the blast radius.

Shuttles and freighters were just now beginning to take off. The Sith warrior looked around for the Jet Razor, but it was no longer there. Trychon had already taken off. Raezyr let it add to the raging fire already burning inside. He knew he was a minute late, but he had hoped his brother would wait for him as that had been the plan.

He looked around and spotted a fighter off to one side of the hangar that no one was climbing into and trotted over. The ladder was missing, but that didn't matter as he used the Force to make the leap up to the cockpit. Raezyr slung the pack into the storage compartment behind the seat and closed it, then slid into the seat and began punching in the emergency start up procedures.

The Sith forced the ship to take off before the engine warm-ups were complete. Warning indicators screamed at him, but he ignored them. He didn't care about the risk of engine failure at this point. It was paramount that he catch Trychon.

As he neared the hangar doors, he punched the throttle as high as he dared, caring little about the collateral damage it would cause. His final glimpse of King's Lair was crewman, still frantically trying to load various shuttles with emergency supplies, ducking for cover and being bowled over as the Sith gunned the fighter out of the doors.

------------------

There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no death, there is the Force.

Nal Talla repeated the Jedi Code to herself as she piloted Firaxa 1, keeping tight on the wing of her Jedi companion Val.  It had only been weeks since they had finally hunted down the Sith fugitives Tyr and Anya on an uninhabited planet.  She had come painfully close to succumbing to the Dark Side during that encounter.  Now they were closing in on the other two Sith, one of whom had taken her leg, and she had to keep her wits and emotions about her to keep from making that fall.

"Firaxa 2 to Firaxa 1."  Val's voice came in over the comm.  "Are you ready for this?"

She knew he wasn't talking about clipping the wings of a few smuggler's fighters.  He was speaking to the very thing she was thinking of.  Her only question was whether he knew what she was thinking, or if it was a coincidence.  "I believe I am, two."  She smiled.  The older Knight had been invaluable in helping her regain her calm and prepare for such an encounter.  "I am ready for 'dis.  Tanks to you."

They were closing in on the glaring white of the frozen planet quickly.  One freighter had made a quick exit minutes after the capital ships had arrived.  Her connection to the Force reassured her that they had not missed out on their targets yet though.

She looked down at her sensors in response to her instruments beeping at her.  Multiple contacts were now making their way off of the planet.  They weren't in range yet, but they would be well before the pirates could escape the gravity well of the planet.  Based on what her readings were telling her, none of the ships would be able to weather any severe harassment to make it to hyperspace.  They'd have to maneuver heavily to stay alive, and eventually they would fall prey to weapons fire or the tractor beams of the larger Republic ships when they were in range.

Val and she would have to try to do their best to disable the fighters, especially if they located the Sith.  She wasn't sure that the other pilots for the Republic would do the same.  She felt it might be the opposite for them.

They had nearly reached long distance torpedo range when the starry space in front of them suddenly shifted.  Alarms in her head as well as from her fighter filled the cabin.  The large ship that the Sith had used to steal from the Republic had jumped directly in between them and the fleeing freighters.

"Break off!  Break off!"  She heard the squadron commander in her helm.  "Regroup!  Where did that thing come from?  No one can jump this close into a planetary system.  No one!"


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