Star Wars: Vodran

Vodran

The shockwaves rippled through the forest, knocking trees down, splintering wood, shaking the leaves. The ion shells bombarded the surface from the sky, as the floating cities of Star Destroyers laid waste to the land. Cloaked figures dashed through the trees, fleeing from the onslaught of the shelling.

"Zyyacaha,"  Odala shouted breathlessly, as she darted through the thick underbrush, "more Walkers, straight ahead!"

The group ran together towards the walkers and their massive gait. As the group closed on the three AT-ATs the heads of the machines turned with a disturbing rigidness, opening fire with the heavy laser cannons. The blasts carried through the space, echoing and tearing through the trees, and slamming into the ground, sending spouts of dust and dirt into their faces. Odala shot her arm up, shielding her face from the debris, the dark leather of her robes singed by the hot material, some burning her skin and hair. She slowed in her sprint, and slammed off of the ground, followed closely by the others, landing on the back of the nearest walker. The other AT-ATs shot after them as they made their ascent, one shot hitting the AT-AT they were standing on. The tank rattled, causing the group to fall. The walker fell to its knees; collapsing headlong into the moist earth. Some of the group managed to jump onto the other two walkers, the others stumbled and fell from the top of the tank. Zyyacaha plummeted to the ground, a brutal and violent crunch shouted from his left arm, and he let loose a sound of pain and agony that writhed through the branches.

"Zyyacaha!" Odala shouted, landing on the ground, recovering in a roll, and sprinting towards him.

Gren rose from all fours, running to Zyyacaha as well,

"C'mon Zyyacaha! We need to go! Get up!"

Gren shouted, grabbing Zyyacaha around his waist, hoisting his arm over his shoulder. Zyyacaha yelped in pain, his feet stumbled forward, mostly dragged by the quick movements of Gren. 

"You take Zyyacaha to cover... I'll take care of the transport!" Odala called. She unclipped her light saber and the blade fabricated itself. Bounding upwards she tucked her knees to her chest, and broke through the front window of the walker, landing, the clack of her boots on the floor being the only noise. The inside was cool compared to the humid jungle outside and looking around she noticed the stormtrooper pilots sat silently, their heavy breaths echoing through their respirators, as though they were trying to hide in plain sight from the Sith now in their command area. The thin commander in front of her was the first to break the silence,

"Under the command of the Mighty Galactic Epi-"

The woosh of her saber followed the hollow thunk of the commanders head on the cold durasteel floor. The storm troopers stood, and so did Odala. Rasing her hand by her side, the troopers unexpectedly shot off of the ground, slamming into the ceiling. A sickening crack, and the troopers fell limp to the ground. She took a deep breath, wiping some of the beading sweat from her forehead, and brushing the ink black hair from her deep yellow eyes. The door that lead to the larger interior of the tank stood just past the commander's body. Small thumps from the other side made her edgy, compelling her to lower her stance, holding her saber at the ready. She stepped over the commander, placing her hand on the cold metal door. She closed her eyes. The force flowed through her, her arms, fingers, and core. The door creaked. The metal bent and folded, shearing and buckling against itself, until the door burst from the frame. Odala sent it whizzing into the next room, where it tore through a group of storm troopers. Their helmets shattered from the force of the door, piercing skin, breaking bone.  The hunk of metal tore through the small group of soldiers, coming to rest in the back wall of the room, pinning a stormtrooper against it. His armor shattered at the midsection, and thick, dark red blood splattered over his pearly white uniform. His body jolted in shock from the force of the blow, blood dripping in mucus infused drops from the entrance to his mask, spilling out of the base, down to the chest of his armor, mixing with that coming out of his midsection, flowing down and pooling on the slab of metal that had impaled him. He coughed and wheezed as blood filled his lungs, making it ever harder to breath. He let loose one last hoarse breath, the mic in his helmet amplifying it, before he slouched onto the door. The troopers on the ground who had survived the initial chaos rose slowly in confusion, but before they could stand, Odala's light saber had sparked a scarlet blade, and she leapt from trooper to trooper, disposing of them. Some letting out cries that eventually when quiet. The interior was silent now, other than the faint searing sound of the freshly cut saber marks in the soldiers. Odala, now catching her breath, rose from her alert stance, and cautiously walked out of the main hanger.

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