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<blockquote data-quote="Ankh-Morpork Guard" data-source="post: 3420687" data-attributes="member: 10079"><p><strong>Chapter 446: Back to the War</strong></p><p></p><p>The war, and it was a true war now, was not going well. For a time, Rulae Nok wondered if it wasn’t just a series of defeats. But now, after a few major defeats, the New Republic government seemed willing to accept the threat was real and not only declare it to be a war, but to actually dedicate the entire might of the military to the effort. For the moment, it was defense after defense, losing planets and falling back...</p><p> </p><p>Through it, Rulae had spent his time working to rebuild his squadron and train the new recruits as best as was possible. But the Vong did not stop to let the Zephyrs catch their breath. It was just a month ago that Ord Mantell came under attack. Since the beginning of the war, the planet had become a place where refugees from lost words had gathered...and then the Vong took it. Rulae had wished he had been there to fight, but it hadn’t been possible.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, he’d been sitting in an officer on Coruscant looking at potential recruits and, even worse, reports. A month since the loss of Ord Mantell and still, the Zephyrs weren’t back together. Rea’tin Lor, who had been Jyren’s wingmate, had not yet returned from wherever it is she had gone to. Rulae had pretty much put her up to it, but he had at least expected some kind of contact but...three months now and no word. The thought that she was dead did not escape him, as with the way things were going in the galaxy, it would not have surprised him.</p><p> </p><p>Those who had remained were doing their best to assist Rulae when he would let them. They weren’t green recruits anymore. They were pilots who had survived three heavy engagements, which was saying something considering the life expectancy of most starfighter pilots. So now they were learning about the possible recruits, and even helping to select some of them.</p><p> </p><p>But that came to and end before they’d managed to get a full roster together. With Ord Mantell lost to the Vong, even more refugees had been displaced. The government of Gyndine decided to accept refugees to assist in the effort of relocating so many millions. And with that, came the fear of the planet being taken by the Vong like Ord Mantell. The already stretched forces of the New Republic military were pushed to their limits even more to protect the planet and its refugees...and someone, somewhere up in Starfighter Command volunteered Rulae to oversee the organization of the defense squadrons that were on the planet.</p><p> </p><p>Which meant that now, Rulae was not at a desk. That was about the only positive thing he could currently come up with.</p><p> </p><p>Gyndine might once have been a beautiful planet, but it was hard to tell now. There were forests, lakes, oceans, and fairly large cities all over, but now it was crowded with millions of refugees displaced by the Vong invasion. He’d arrived two standard days earlier, alone, and wondering if the Zephyrs back on Coruscant could manage to not get dragged around like he had been.</p><p> </p><p>He let out a short sigh before looking out the window he was standing next to. Rulae was on the third level of small building in one of the cities near the planet’s equator. He didn’t remember the name of the place, and, honestly, wasn’t sure if he’d even been told it when the shuttle had taken him down. The fleet hadn’t come with him. The Admiral and his ships were still docked at Fondor, repairing and getting a short rest while technically being a part of the local defense force.</p><p> </p><p>Rulae’s red eyes scanned the streets he could see. Gyndine had been a rather industrial planet from the looks of things, not at all as backwater as some worlds were that weren’t in the Core. It was then that he heard a voice. Looking down, Rulae saw a small crowed gathered in a nearby square, centered around a pair of humanoid figures that were shouting about...something.</p><p> </p><p>It was hard to hear them.</p><p> </p><p>The reports he’d been handed on the shuttle flight down talked about the local population being in a tense state due to the influx of refugees, and from the animated way the two humanoids were going on with, Rulae had a feeling it wasn’t a very positive gathering. The marines that were now on the ground with the other defense forces that had been shifted to sorting out the refugees could probably have dealt with this without trouble...if there were any around. But the planet was so overloaded now that everyone was overworked and overstretched.</p><p> </p><p>A part of him felt like he should do something, but the rest of him knew the reality of the situation. If he went down there, alone and in uniform, and tried to break that up...he’d be killed if he was lucky. That wouldn’t be because he was a Duros, as it would have been back in the Empire’s days, or because he was in uniform, but just because groups like that had a way of turning into angry mobs far too easily. Provoking it wouldn’t help...and so, maybe, that’s why it was left there. Someone was probably watching it...at least, someone else.</p><p> </p><p>A muffled been sounded from the single desk within the small office that he’d been assigned to. Rulae closed his eyes a moment, not wanting to be bothered. But then the beep sounded again and he gave up, opened his eyes, and walked over to the desk. It took a moment to push off the piles of datafilm that were strewn across the desk to reveal the built-in comlink, but when he did clear it, he hit the small switch to its side and said, “This is Commodore Nok.”</p><p> </p><p>“Commodore,” it was a strong, very deep voice that Rulae knew immediately to be Commander Ilkana, the man in charge of Gyndine’s Defense Fleet, “A group of unidentified vessels has just exited hyperspace at the edge of the star system.”</p><p> </p><p>Rulae’s blood went cold. They knew it had been coming. It was logical. But...why they came for refugee planets was just beyond everyone’s comprehension.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get the squadrons in the air, sir,” the Duros spoke in his level, official voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” a nod could somehow be heard in the man’s deep voice, even through the comlink, “I need everything we have in orbit in a matter of minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Already on it, sir,” and he was. There was another switch on the desk near the comm, it was the building’s general alarm. It was also the general alarm for the hangar, which was connected to this building. The pilots would be hearing it and should be scrambling to their ships immediately.</p><p> </p><p>And then Rulae hesitated. The expression he had on his face couldn’t be read by the Commander, as there was no holo to go along with it. So, uneasily, Rulae realized he had to speak what usually didn’t need to be said, “Sir...if you’ll excuse me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, Commodore,” the deep voice sounded apologetic, which meant the man would have been able to read Rulae’s look if he’d seen it. That was always a good thing for a commander, in Rulae’s eyes. So many didn’t understand things like that. And then Ilkana added something that nearly made the Duros smile, “Good hunting out there, Nok. Ilkana out.”</p><p> </p><p>Then the line went dead.</p><p> </p><p>Rulae stood there for a moment, please to have that kind of man in charge of the defense forces despite the fact that they were now under attack. Then, the alarm seemed to finally get hold of him, and he tapped the desk before grabbing his personal comlink and starting at a run out of his office, through the corridors, and to the nearby hangar where his starfighter was waiting.</p><p> </p><p>All the way, he was reporting what he knew to the commanders of the other squadrons.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Ankh-Morpork Guard, post: 3420687, member: 10079"] [b]Chapter 446: Back to the War[/b] The war, and it was a true war now, was not going well. For a time, Rulae Nok wondered if it wasn’t just a series of defeats. But now, after a few major defeats, the New Republic government seemed willing to accept the threat was real and not only declare it to be a war, but to actually dedicate the entire might of the military to the effort. For the moment, it was defense after defense, losing planets and falling back... Through it, Rulae had spent his time working to rebuild his squadron and train the new recruits as best as was possible. But the Vong did not stop to let the Zephyrs catch their breath. It was just a month ago that Ord Mantell came under attack. Since the beginning of the war, the planet had become a place where refugees from lost words had gathered...and then the Vong took it. Rulae had wished he had been there to fight, but it hadn’t been possible. Instead, he’d been sitting in an officer on Coruscant looking at potential recruits and, even worse, reports. A month since the loss of Ord Mantell and still, the Zephyrs weren’t back together. Rea’tin Lor, who had been Jyren’s wingmate, had not yet returned from wherever it is she had gone to. Rulae had pretty much put her up to it, but he had at least expected some kind of contact but...three months now and no word. The thought that she was dead did not escape him, as with the way things were going in the galaxy, it would not have surprised him. Those who had remained were doing their best to assist Rulae when he would let them. They weren’t green recruits anymore. They were pilots who had survived three heavy engagements, which was saying something considering the life expectancy of most starfighter pilots. So now they were learning about the possible recruits, and even helping to select some of them. But that came to and end before they’d managed to get a full roster together. With Ord Mantell lost to the Vong, even more refugees had been displaced. The government of Gyndine decided to accept refugees to assist in the effort of relocating so many millions. And with that, came the fear of the planet being taken by the Vong like Ord Mantell. The already stretched forces of the New Republic military were pushed to their limits even more to protect the planet and its refugees...and someone, somewhere up in Starfighter Command volunteered Rulae to oversee the organization of the defense squadrons that were on the planet. Which meant that now, Rulae was not at a desk. That was about the only positive thing he could currently come up with. Gyndine might once have been a beautiful planet, but it was hard to tell now. There were forests, lakes, oceans, and fairly large cities all over, but now it was crowded with millions of refugees displaced by the Vong invasion. He’d arrived two standard days earlier, alone, and wondering if the Zephyrs back on Coruscant could manage to not get dragged around like he had been. He let out a short sigh before looking out the window he was standing next to. Rulae was on the third level of small building in one of the cities near the planet’s equator. He didn’t remember the name of the place, and, honestly, wasn’t sure if he’d even been told it when the shuttle had taken him down. The fleet hadn’t come with him. The Admiral and his ships were still docked at Fondor, repairing and getting a short rest while technically being a part of the local defense force. Rulae’s red eyes scanned the streets he could see. Gyndine had been a rather industrial planet from the looks of things, not at all as backwater as some worlds were that weren’t in the Core. It was then that he heard a voice. Looking down, Rulae saw a small crowed gathered in a nearby square, centered around a pair of humanoid figures that were shouting about...something. It was hard to hear them. The reports he’d been handed on the shuttle flight down talked about the local population being in a tense state due to the influx of refugees, and from the animated way the two humanoids were going on with, Rulae had a feeling it wasn’t a very positive gathering. The marines that were now on the ground with the other defense forces that had been shifted to sorting out the refugees could probably have dealt with this without trouble...if there were any around. But the planet was so overloaded now that everyone was overworked and overstretched. A part of him felt like he should do something, but the rest of him knew the reality of the situation. If he went down there, alone and in uniform, and tried to break that up...he’d be killed if he was lucky. That wouldn’t be because he was a Duros, as it would have been back in the Empire’s days, or because he was in uniform, but just because groups like that had a way of turning into angry mobs far too easily. Provoking it wouldn’t help...and so, maybe, that’s why it was left there. Someone was probably watching it...at least, someone else. A muffled been sounded from the single desk within the small office that he’d been assigned to. Rulae closed his eyes a moment, not wanting to be bothered. But then the beep sounded again and he gave up, opened his eyes, and walked over to the desk. It took a moment to push off the piles of datafilm that were strewn across the desk to reveal the built-in comlink, but when he did clear it, he hit the small switch to its side and said, “This is Commodore Nok.” “Commodore,” it was a strong, very deep voice that Rulae knew immediately to be Commander Ilkana, the man in charge of Gyndine’s Defense Fleet, “A group of unidentified vessels has just exited hyperspace at the edge of the star system.” Rulae’s blood went cold. They knew it had been coming. It was logical. But...why they came for refugee planets was just beyond everyone’s comprehension. “I’ll get the squadrons in the air, sir,” the Duros spoke in his level, official voice. “Good,” a nod could somehow be heard in the man’s deep voice, even through the comlink, “I need everything we have in orbit in a matter of minutes.” “Already on it, sir,” and he was. There was another switch on the desk near the comm, it was the building’s general alarm. It was also the general alarm for the hangar, which was connected to this building. The pilots would be hearing it and should be scrambling to their ships immediately. And then Rulae hesitated. The expression he had on his face couldn’t be read by the Commander, as there was no holo to go along with it. So, uneasily, Rulae realized he had to speak what usually didn’t need to be said, “Sir...if you’ll excuse me.” “Of course, Commodore,” the deep voice sounded apologetic, which meant the man would have been able to read Rulae’s look if he’d seen it. That was always a good thing for a commander, in Rulae’s eyes. So many didn’t understand things like that. And then Ilkana added something that nearly made the Duros smile, “Good hunting out there, Nok. Ilkana out.” Then the line went dead. Rulae stood there for a moment, please to have that kind of man in charge of the defense forces despite the fact that they were now under attack. Then, the alarm seemed to finally get hold of him, and he tapped the desk before grabbing his personal comlink and starting at a run out of his office, through the corridors, and to the nearby hangar where his starfighter was waiting. All the way, he was reporting what he knew to the commanders of the other squadrons. [/QUOTE]
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