Sacrifices

This story was co-written by Delerius_Jedi and Prisoner24601

Author's notes: This is the prequel to our previous story The Legacy but it can also be enjoyed as a standalone story

Diric Millavic reflexively snapped to attention when the Jedi General barked her orders into the rainy gloom. “Theta squad, get moving! Get that sonic cannon set up at the foot of the hill!”

Sheets of warm rain sluiced over Diric as he raced over to his comrades, soaking his Republic combat uniform that was already covered in mud and blood after several days of hard advance through the jungles of Dxun.

Those blasted Mandies booby-trapped most of the paths through the woods, Diric thought bitterly, remembering how he’d seen his comrades blown to pieces when they had triggered a mine. The screams of those unlucky enough to survive still echoed in his mind. Come on! Focus! You’re no use to General Varn if you can’t keep it together.

The General gave him an encouraging nod as Diric and the other members of his squad lifted the heavy cannon onto their shoulders. Huffing and grunting, they started as fast as they could towards the base of the mountain, under the watchful eye of their commander. Republic fighters screamed overhead, blasting away the jungle with their plasma cannons and proton bombs. It was slow going: they followed a churned path of slick mud, the relentless torrential rain all but erasing the footsteps of those that preceded them. The weight of the cannon sank them deeper into the mud, reducing their progress to an agonizing crawl.

Diric tasted the bitter tang of fear and panic when the base of the steep hill finally came into sight. The soldiers of Theta squad picked their way over the broken bodies of both enemy and friends. Diric made a conscious effort not to look at their faces for fear of recognizing any of the fallen, desperately trying not to wonder if one day his friends would be stepping over his body. Finally, they reached the base of the hill and began to assemble the cannon.

Three squads had already been sent up the hill, all of them completely decimated by the entrenched Mandalorian defenders. They had their orders: it was absolutely critical the cannon be in place to cover the advance of another attempt to take the hill. Fear and exhaustion made it difficult to concentrate on the slick, wet metal, but Diric had assembled the cannon so many times, he figured he could do it in his sleep.

Diric was halfway finished when he heard the soft murmur of stealth fields dropping, and the unmistakable snap-hiss of a lightsaber igniting. Someone shouted a warning and Diric’s head spun from the cannon; he found himself staring right into the face visor of a Mandalorian warrior. An instant stretched into an eternity as Diric fumbled for the blaster at his belt. A cruel silver blade winked across his vision, and then slid into his belly.

Burning pain was followed by the realization that he had just been gutted, but he was unable to do anything other than stand there, stupefied, clutching his stomach in astonishment. Warm blood spilled from his stomach and over his mud-covered fingers.

A blue blur streaked past, searing through the Mandalorian’s helmet in a vicious swipe. The headless warrior fell over with a wet thunk into the mud, revealing General Varn; Diric sighed in relief. The Jedi General had saved his neck, he hoped. Diric winced in pain as his strength ebbed away by the second.

I hope Jedi healing powers are what they say.

His intestines burned as Diric reached out to her…

Riss Varn had always tried to be the best Jedi that she could be. In the years that she had belonged to the Order, she had tried to follow the spirit and the letter of the Jedi Code. When the Council had denied the Republic’s petition for help it had been like a slap in the face to Riss, since they were turning their backs on millions and millions of sentients. It was then that she had done the unthinkable and abandoned the one thing that she had loved the most. She simply couldn’t stand by and watch innocents die and still call herself a Jedi.

And now, as she stood over the body of a dead Mandalorian warrior while one of her soldiers reached towards her for help, something broke inside of her. The soldier was barely more than a boy, one of thousands and thousands of brave sons who put their lives on the line to stop the Mandalorian animals. Seeing him bleeding and broken sent her mind into turmoil. His face blurred from her sight as she thought of the others, those already dead, those yet to die in this senseless war. How many more would there be, and for what? The sound and shockwave of concussion blasts and the shouts of her men rang in her ears, pulling her from her dark contemplation. A wave of pure, raw fury ripped painfully through her mind, leaving her focused on one undeniable conclusion.

It’s time to make those barbarians pay. It’s time to be a true Jedi.

Riss turned toward the rest of Theta squad as they scattered from the recent attack; she knew what she had to do. The authority in her voice was absolute and final. “Theta squad. Follow me. We’re taking that hill, right now.”

Riss stormed towards the hill, grim and determined, without waiting for the cannon to be assembled. Her infantry fell in behind her, and her blue lightsaber shone like a beacon through the pouring rain, rallying her troops around her as she charged up the slick and steep hill.

Still lying at the bottom of the hill, Diric watched through dimming vision as his friends and would-be savior turned and left him. He slumped against the useless cannon, his outstretched arm falling limp to his side. They’ll be back for me, he thought as the sound of the rain washed everything away.

Riss slipped in the soft thick mud, nearly dropping her blade. The stumble was unimportant: making the Mandalorians pay was her only goal, driving her onward. She extinguished her saber and automatically hooked it back on her belt and continued her relentless advance.

They kill and they kill and they kill… and for what? Riss’ battle rage bubbled and seethed through her. They must be stopped!

Riss clawed through muck and smoldering debris, over the bodies of fallen soldiers and broken droids, tearing her way through half-broken foliage with her bare hands as she advanced up the muddy hill. I will stop them. I have to! The Jedi are guardians of the peace, all those people depend on me.

More anger and bile spiked through her, this time directed at the Council. They should have been fighting, all of them, sooner, protecting the innocent from the ruthless Mandalorian butchers; instead they were frightened into caution and inaction, and people were dying because of their utter failure to do what was right.

Thorns and spiny branches scratched and snagged her robes and skin and hair, drawing blood that mingled with the mud and the rain, but Riss ignored it and continued up. The senseless bloodthirst of the Mandalorians and the petrifying fear of her own soldiers sang through her mind fueling her Force powers. Her troops fell farther and farther behind her as she advanced faster and faster; using the Force to complement her physical strength.

When Riss came to a small plateau near the top of the hill, she noted the movement of the Mandalorian warriors was barely a whisper, but she wasn’t really listening. She didn’t need to stretch out her Force powers to touch the minds of these savages; she understood their simplistic and vile notions of ‘honor’ with perfect clarity, and it made her sick to her stomach. She crouched in the high grass just beyond the edge of the plateau, drawing the Force around her to mask her presence.

They don’t know I’m here. I can take them by surprise and end their carnage. It is what I was meant to do… what a Jedi is meant to do: protect the innocent, not cower in enclaves and debate endlessly.

She unclipped her lightsaber from her belt, drew a deep breath and leapt, igniting her blade in midair and landing at the center of a group of Mandalorians who didn’t even have time to react as Riss spun around and cut her saber over the necklines of their armor.

Barbarians! Your slaughter ends here!

The other Mandalorians scrambled towards her screaming war cries in honor of their Mandalore. Riss opened herself fully to the Force, and a nearby Mandalorian flew off his feet and hit a nearby rock face with a sickening crunch. As she battled, her beloved Jedi code echoed through her mind.

There is no emotion. Riss’ blade plowed through the chest of the first Mandalorian nearby and then she was soaring through the air, landing behind three of his companions. There is peace. The blue blade swung low, catching two of the Mandalorian warriors in the midsection and sending them screaming to the ground. The third managed to swing around and fire his heavy repeater at her, but Riss blocked the bolt with her blade and deflected it back into the visor of her attacker; the smell of cooked flesh mingled with the jungle and charred metal in the air.

There is no ignorance. She reached out with the Force and sent a heavy assault cannon flying directly into a group of six Mandalorians, crushing them beneath the pile of mangled durasteel. There is knowledge. The screams of Mandalorians were cut short when Riss whipped her blue blade at them. Their heads fell with soft thuds onto the jungle soil.

There is no passion, there is no chaos. Riss paused as a Mandalorian lobbed a plasma grenade at her, but only briefly enough to raise her hand and push it back to the thrower. The ear-piercing blast and the smell of burned flesh mixed with melted armor swamped her senses, but she didn’t let that stop her. The blood of a wounded Mandalorian soaked through her robes as the warrior tried to stab her with a vibroblade; she grabbed his weapon-hand and with the Force amplifying her strength, she jammed it in the spot just under the helmet of her enemy. There is serenity, there is harmony.

There is no death. Riss sensed her troops finally coming up the plateau and opening fire on the few remaining Mandalorians, her blade deflecting the few shots that came her way, but many more getting through and hitting her men. She leapt into the air again, holding her blade in front of her and landing right at the Mandalorians’ last stand, an old-style trench. The warriors below turned their heads towards the new threat and Riss smiled, barring her teeth as she jumped into the mess of warriors, swinging her blade back and forth until nothing moved. There is the Force. Panting, Riss jumped out of the trench, wiped a bloody hand across her sweat-soaked brow and faced her troops. The men stood still in stunned silence, eyeing her warily; she did not flinch under their stony stare.

“The hill is secure, men.” Riss spoke in her most inspiring voice; her men seemed to need some reassuring words. They stared at her, pale and shaken; Riss could feel the fear flowing from them, although she wasn’t quite sure why, since she’d defeated the Mandalorian beasts. “The Republic is triumphant; we will battle until every last Mandalorian is driven from this system.”

She paused to catch her breath, the fight had left her much more drained than usual, but she was happy; they had stopped the Mandalorians on this front and now they could push on and on, until the Onderon system had been swept clean of the barbaric invaders.

“Signal command. We need a base camp set up here immediately, I want the location secured and fortified by nightfall.” Realizing that her troopers were still staring at her, Riss barked, “Move out!”

The soldiers saluted automatically and uttered a quick “Yes, General. Right away!” and then rushed off to do their work.

Riss trudged down the hill, pride and satisfaction coursing through her. At last her men had seen what it meant to be a Jedi, a true guardian of the light. We will continue until they surrender, she swore silently to herself. And if they refuse to surrender, we will wipe them from the face of the galaxy. Never again will they be allowed to rape Republic worlds.

When she reached the bottom of the hill, she almost looked away when she saw the medical corps personnel putting the bodies of the dead into black synthplast bags and loading them onto a nearby flatbed speeder. The corpsmen were moving through the corpses at a steady pace.

A grim routine, no doubt, Riss thought as she started towards them.

“This one’s recent,” one of the corpsman said. “He could’ve made it if there’d been a medic nearby. Damn, what a waste.”

Stunned, Riss suddenly felt bitter bile claw up the back of her throat when she looked at the face of the fallen fighter. It was a young face, around twenty standard years old. It was the face of the man who had reached out towards her for help. The face of the soldier she had rushed off to avenge. The face of the soldier she had left to die.

One of the corpsman spotted her standing there and tried to reassure her. “Don’t blame yourself, General. Casualties are inevitable in war. Sometimes sacrifices must be made, ma’am.”

A shadow seemed to fall over Riss and her voice was a hoarse whisper, as she replied, “Yes… sacrifices must be made…”