The Birth of Rebellion

Chapter IX - The Escape

The lights that remained working were now pulsing red, a feverish heartbeat against the backdrop of the Venator's groaning metal. A garbled siren wailed over the faulty PA system, a chilling death knell for the once proud warship. Xon and Nexus fired blasters over their shoulders, bolts scorching the air behind them. Fenrir, a relentless storm in his battered armour, returned fire as he closed the distance.

"You don't understand, Fenrir!" Xon roared, his voice barely audible over the din. "The Empire can't have this research! It could destroy everything!"

Fenrir didn't reply, his focus honed to a single point – capturing Xon. But with every passing second, the choice gnawed at him. Xon's desperation, the cryptic importance of his research... was there more to this than a simple bounty?

Suddenly, the floor lurched beneath them. A massive explosion ripped through the hull, showering them with sparks and burning debris. Nexus shrieked as a stray bolt clipped its metallic arm, sending it sputtering uselessly.

"This way!" Xon grabbed a datapad from his belt and sprinted towards a side corridor, the flickering emergency lights highlighting the terror in his eyes. Fenrir hesitated, torn between duty and a sliver of doubt. The explosion had bought them precious moments, but the self-destruct sequence was a ticking time bomb.

Fenrir's gut clenched. This wasn't a bounty anymore, it was a suicide mission. The alarms blared louder, a shrill counterpoint to the groaning of the dying Venator. Xon, sweat creasing his brow, slammed a button on his datapad. The emergency lights strobed violently, casting the corridor in an unsettling red glow.

"This way!" Xon barked, already sprinting towards a side passage. Beside him, Nexus whirred its gears, its single functional blaster arm aimed back at the approaching danger.

"Go! I'll hold them off!" Xon roared, his voice raw with desperation. He aimed his Tesla cannon, the crackling energy a beacon in the flickering light.

Fenrir's mind raced. Leaving Xon to die felt wrong, but staying meant certain doom. He glanced at the newly created opening in the hull, a gaping maw spewing endless black into the corridor.

With a growl of frustration, Fenrir aimed his wrist rocket at a nearby control panel, not towards Xon. The explosion would create a diversion, a desperate gamble for escape. He slammed the trigger, the world erupting in a deafening roar of light and sound.

The shockwave slammed him against the wall, the taste of blood metallic in his mouth. Through the haze, he saw his chance. The mangled hull was a gateway to freedom. With a surge of adrenaline, he activated his jetpack, the familiar whine of a siren song of survival.

He launched himself towards the breach, a blur of jetpack fire and Mandalorian steel. Debris rained down around him, the searing heat of the doomed Venator licking at his back. He didn't look back. His only focus was escape and the gnawing question that echoed in his mind – had he just condemned the galaxy, or saved it from the clutches of a desperate scientist?

Nexus whirred its remaining arm, scanning the corridor. "Master, Fenrir's gone. His heat signature is fading fast." Relief flooded Xon's face, momentarily chased away by the urgency of the situation. "Good. Less complication. Now, move!"

They sprinted down another corridor, the groaning of the Venator a chilling counterpoint to Xon's ragged breaths. Finally, they burst into a massive hangar, a lone BARC speeder gleaming hopefully in the flickering emergency lights.

"This is it," Xon muttered, his voice strained. He plugged his datapad into the speeder, fingers flying across the interface.

The engine coughed to life, sputtering and backfiring. Xon cursed under his breath. Time was a luxury they no longer possessed.

With a final groan, the speeder lurched forward. Xon shoved Nexus into the sidecar, then clambered on himself. Ignoring the warning icons screaming about depressurization, Xon slammed the throttle forward. The speeder lurched out of the hangar, the vast maw of the Sarlacc filling their vision.

He yanked the repulsor controls, throwing the speeder into a near-vertical dive. They skimmed the Sarlacc's razor-sharp beak, the wind screaming in their ears as the massive creature thrashed its tentacles in a futile attempt to snag them.

The dashboard lights flickered, the speeder screaming in protest. Every fibre of Xon's being screamed that this was it, they were done for.

But then, as abruptly as it started, the desperate manoeuvre ended. They were clear. Below them, the Venator, a twisted skeleton of its former self, was being slowly pulled into the Sarlacc's gaping maw.

Xon slumped back, his breath ragged. He glanced at Nexus, its remaining arm twitching uselessly. "We made it," he rasped, the words almost alien coming from his dry throat.

Xon and Nexus scrambled into their waiting ship, the familiar hum of the engines a balm to their frayed nerves. As they lifted off, the doomed Venator filled the viewport, a twisted metal monument to their escape. A deep rumble echoed through the hull, followed by a blinding flash. The Venator, its self-destruct sequence complete, detonated in a fiery inferno.

"Where to, Master?" Nexus whirred, its remaining manipulator arm twitching uselessly.

Xon gripped the controls, his knuckles white. Every muscle in his body ached, the memory of the near-miss with the Sarlacc a chilling reminder of their narrow escape. But a deeper unease gnawed at him. He had escaped with his life, his research data safe within Nexus' core memory banks, but at what cost? He had unleashed his creations upon the galaxy, a Pandora's Box of unknown consequences.

"We're going to Koboh," Xon finally said, his voice hoarse. "I have a promise to keep, to an old friend."

Fenrir nursed a throbbing headache as he watched the lone ship streak into the vast emptiness of space. His target, Xon, had slipped through his grasp once again. He slammed his fist against the control panel in frustration. The bounty was substantial, enough to rebuild his clan, but a suspicion lingered, like a bad taste in his mouth.

He picked up his datapad, the salvaged information from the Venator flickering on the screen. Details about Xon's research, classified Imperial files hinting at weapons of unimaginable power. The bounty now seemed a smokescreen, a way to draw him away from the bigger picture.

High above Brakka, the Imperial fleet materialised in a menacing formation. Admiral Harkan, a man known for his ruthlessness and iron fist, barked orders into his communicator. "Find the Mandalorian. He can't be allowed to talk."

Fenrir gritted his teeth. He was in over his head, caught in a game between the Empire and a desperate scientist. A game where the stakes could be the fate of the galaxy. He steered his ship away from Brakka, a new course plotted, a new mission forming in his mind. He wouldn't be a pawn. He would find Xon, uncover the truth behind his research, and decide for himself who was the real threat.