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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ankh-Morpork Guard" data-source="post: 3618379" data-attributes="member: 10079">Chapter 480: AlarmsTobias took a heavy punch to his jaw before he had any chance at all to react. Crying out in pain actually made it hurt worse, and he had no real time to get his balance before Tokarr swung again. Despite that, though, Tobias attempted to at least raise his hand to block to punch. It was an action he’d seen Marix to many times...parrying a punch with her wrist or arm and deflecting it away.    Of course, like most things, it looked much easier than it was. Tokarr’s fist did strike Tobias’ arm, but at an angle that sent a shock of pain mixed with numbness through his entire left arm. Tokarr also yelped, having sent his fist straight into Tobias’ arm...it wasn’t deflected at all. There was a momentary pause, long enough for Tobias to yell out, “What are you doing?!”    The Miraluka didn’t dignify that with any kind of response. What he was doing was plainly obvious. Why he was doing it would have been a better question, but that likely would have gotten the same response...none. Well, nothing verbal. He simply charged straight for Tobias again, swinging again.    This time, Tobias allowed at least some sense to take hold of him. He didn’t have the time, or the training, to do any of the fancy things Marix or Jyren might have done. His combat training was very, very limited. In fact, most all of it centered around defensive actions and dodging, while he always pushed himself to be like his parents and simply roll with the punches he took. This was all because of his limited experience in how much punches actually hurt.    So Tobias ducked, and Tokarr’s swing went over him.    That was when Tobias realized that Tokarr had more combat training than he did, as a knee was already coming up to slam straight into Tobias’ face. He heard, and felt, a crack as Tokarr’s knee forced a very sudden stop in his movement, and the next thing he knew, Tobias was on the ground on his back, staring up at a blurry looking ceiling.    Vaguely, he heard a swishing sound, and somewhere in his mind, Tobias put the sound together with its location and decided it was a door opened...then closing. As he lay on his back, realizing that he was now alone in the small room, Tobias couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, had just happened. An odd thought popped into his head. He had learned something. Tokarr was disturbingly violent.    Tobias managed to laugh to himself at that thought as he slowly sat up. A hand reached up to his nose and he very carefully felt it. Broken. With a sigh, he remorphed the injury and tried to ignore the faint shadow of a pain that remained. He didn’t bother with the bruise on his left wrist, deciding that he’d had worse and would live.    And then he heard an alarm. It was loud, repetitive, and came out of no where. The sudden blaring made him nearly jump out of his skin. Reaching a quick decision, Tobias decided he needed to get back to Master Ral quickly and ask someone what was going on while he headed for the hangar.    * * * *“Flightsuits on, kids!” Rulae said over his shoulder as he scrambled into his own orange suit, an arm extended to grab the white padding that went over his chest.    The words were spoken as the three other Zephyrs ran into the small room that held their uniforms. It had been a storage room hours before they arrived on board, and the crates were evident of the fact. But that didn’t impede the four pilots from quickly scrambling for their suits.    Nor did it stop the Coruscanti woman, Adria Harken, from asking the question they were all wondering, “They took the bait? They’ve attacked Corellia?”    “No,” Rulae’s answer was short, and there was a sullen tone to his voice that the others easily detected.    The other three stopped because of that tone, all turning to look at their Duros commander. Obrack Loro, the Mon Calamari pilot, spoke up this time, “Bothawui?”    Rulae shook his large head and pulled on one boot while grabbing his helmet with a free hand, “Fondor.”    “What?!” Harken was the most emotional of the pilots, so it wasn’t a surprise that she reacted first.    “We’re already in hyperspace,” Rulae explained as he pointed to their half-suited state, “We should arrive in time to join the fight before the local fleet is overwhelmed. This is not the time to talk politics or tactics. Suit up and get into your cockpits. We’re launching the second we drop out of hyperspace and if you aren’t with us then you’re on your own out there.”    The Duros then dropped his helmet onto his head, adjusted the chin guard, and left the others. Rea had been surprisingly quiet, and remained that way as she turned to finish getting the rest of her flight suit on. Of course, the others weren’t oblivious to this, and after Rulae was gone and they, too, went to finishing suiting up, Adria asked, “What is it, Rea?”    “Reminds me of Agamar,” the Twi’lek girl said quietly as she tightened the collar around her neck and made sure everything was commented correctly.    “Fondor’s one of our biggest shipyards,” Loro said as he picked up his helmet from a shelf that was obviously designed for much smaller objects. He stopped and formed a fist out of his fin-shaped hand, “Its not right. The Vong have better intel on us than we can dream of having on them!”    “The bloody scar-faces are smart,” Adria growled under her breath, her thick accent making the words a bit hard for Rea to understand, “I think its time we made an actual effort to find their spies because they sure as hell find ours.”    “Stow it,” Rea cut the two of them off as she picked up her own helmet, “The Commodore is right. Politics doesn’t matter right now. Fondor is under attack and its our job to protect them. How about we strangle the higher ups after we’ve taken out the Vong fleet?”    The other two exchanged a quick glance before both nodding. Together, they headed for the hangar. The alarms were blaring and the corridors of the cruiser were packed with other pilots, marines, and other personnel getting to their posts as quickly as they could. If the attack had come against Corellia or Bothawui, the three pilots would likely have exchanged boasts and even placed bets on who would score the most kills.    But this was different.    Yet again, the Vong had done something completely unexpected. And just like with Ithor, they had picked a very major target. But where Ithor was more a symbol and less a strategic target, Fondor was one of the most valuable worlds to the New Republic’s war effort. If it was lost, if they failed to drive back the Vong yet again, not only would there be an open path to the Core...but the New Republic would not be able to replace their losses fast enough to keep up.    Everything was going wrong again, and the battle hadn’t even begun.</blockquote>

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