Chapitre 10: Cost to Survive
The next morning arrived quietly. The sun's rays crept over the ridge, casting long shadows across the rocky valley. I sat by the smoldering remains of our small fire, lost in thought. The weight of the last few days had settled heavily on my shoulders, and the exhaustion from battle was sinking deep into my bones.
We had survived, but survival was beginning to feel like an uphill battle. We had lost too many brothers, and our way back to the Republic still wasn't clear. The farther we pushed into Separatist territory, the more uncertain everything became.
Spark and Lucky were still asleep, their armor scuffed and dirty from the previous day's ambush. I couldn't bring myself to wake them yet. They deserved the rest after everything we'd been through. But my mind was already running through the next steps, calculating how we could make it out of this mess.
I stood up, stretching the aches from my muscles, and began to check our gear. We were low on supplies—almost out of rations and running short on power cells for our blasters. If we didn't find a way to resupply soon, it wouldn't matter how many droids we could take out. We'd run out of firepower before long.
As I packed up our meager camp, Lucky stirred, wincing as he sat up. His bandaged side was healing, but slowly, and the pain was still written across his face.
"How are you holding up?" I asked, handing him some water.
Lucky took it gratefully, drinking deeply before answering. "Better than yesterday. Still feel like I got hit by a walker, though."
I gave a half-smile. "You're tough. You'll pull through."
He chuckled softly. "You better hope so. I'm the only one who can keep you from charging into another acklay."
Spark stirred next, rubbing his eyes beneath his helmet before sitting up. "Morning already?" he muttered, still groggy. "Feels like we didn't get more than an hour's rest."
I nodded. "We've been pushing ourselves too hard, but we can't afford to slow down. We're still deep in Separatist territory, and we don't know how many more droid patrols are looking for us."
Spark sighed, grabbing his blaster and checking the power levels. "What's the plan, Sarge? We can't keep playing this cat-and-mouse game with the clankers. We need to get out of here."
"I know," I said, crouching beside them. "But first, we need supplies. There's no way we'll make it back to Republic lines without food, ammo, and medpacks."
"Supplies," Lucky echoed, his brow furrowing. "Where are we gonna find those out here?"
"There's an outpost," I said, pulling out the holomap Lucky had used earlier. "Not too far from here, if this map is accurate. It's a small Separatist installation—probably a storage facility for their supply convoys. If we can hit it fast, grab what we need, and get out, it could buy us enough time to make it back to friendly territory."
Spark raised an eyebrow. "You want to raid a Separatist outpost? Just the three of us?"
I met his gaze. "It's risky, but we don't have a choice. We're out of options."
Lucky sighed, adjusting the bandage on his side. "You sure this is the best move, Vine? We might be walking into a death trap."
I looked between them, seeing the same doubt that was gnawing at me. But I couldn't let it show. As their leader, I had to believe in the plan, or we'd already lost.
"It's not about the best move," I said, my voice steady. "It's about the only move. We hit this outpost, we get what we need, and we get out. If we do it fast and smart, we can make it out of this alive."
Spark and Lucky exchanged a glance, then both nodded.
"All right," Spark said, standing up and shouldering his blaster. "Let's go hit a Separatist outpost."
The journey to the outpost was tense, every step through the rocky valley filled with the possibility of being spotted. We moved carefully, using the natural terrain for cover and keeping our pace steady but cautious. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting harsh light over the barren landscape, and the heat began to wear on us.
Finally, we reached the ridge overlooking the outpost. It was small, as expected—just a few buildings surrounded by a security fence. A handful of droids patrolled the perimeter, but nothing we couldn't handle. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
I lay flat on the ridge, scanning the outpost with my macrobinoculars. "Looks like a mix of B1s and B2s," I muttered, handing the binoculars to Spark. "If we take out the patrol quietly, we can get inside before they know what hit them."
"And if they do know?" Lucky asked, leaning against a rock, his breath heavy.
"Then we improvise," I said, the weight of command settling heavier on my shoulders. "This has to be quick. We're not looking to take over the base—just in and out with supplies."
"Right," Spark said, handing back the binoculars. "I'm guessing you've got a plan for that?"
I nodded. "We split up. Spark, you'll take the high ground on that ridge," I pointed to a small bluff overlooking the outpost. "Give us cover fire if things go sideways. Lucky, you're with me. We'll hit the gate and take out the patrol. Once we're inside, we grab what we can, get to the main storage room, and signal Spark to cover our exit."
Lucky raised his blaster, checking the power cells. "Sounds simple enough. Let's hope it stays that way."
We moved into position quietly, each of us taking our places as we'd planned. Spark climbed up to the ridge, his sniper rifle ready to cover us from above. Lucky and I crept toward the main gate, staying low and out of sight as the droid patrol passed by.
"Now," I whispered, and we moved.
Lucky and I took down the first two B1 droids without a sound, using vibroknives to disable them before they could alert the others. The gate was unguarded, and I quickly sliced into the control panel, overriding the security lock.
The gate slid open with a soft hiss, and we slipped inside, making our way toward the main building. The outpost was quiet—too quiet. My nerves were on edge, every instinct screaming that something wasn't right. But we pressed on.
We reached the storage building without incident, finding the door unlocked. Inside, rows of crates were stacked high, marked with the Separatist emblem. Medpacks, power cells, rations—everything we needed.
"We hit the jackpot," Lucky muttered, grabbing a crate of power cells.
I nodded, feeling a small sense of relief. Maybe this would go smoothly after all.
But as we began loading up, the sound of metal footsteps echoed through the building.
"Droids incoming," I hissed, signaling for Lucky to take cover. I pressed myself against a stack of crates, blaster at the ready.
The door to the storage room slid open, and a squad of B2 battle droids marched in, their heavy steps sending vibrations through the floor. My heart raced, but I held my breath, waiting for the right moment.
As the droids moved deeper into the room, I signaled Lucky. We moved in tandem, taking out the nearest droid with precision shots before they could react. But the B2s weren't like the weak B1s—they were tougher, smarter, and heavily armored.
"Spark, we need cover!" I shouted over the comm, firing at the advancing droids.
"On it!" Spark's voice crackled through, and seconds later, blaster fire rained down from above, tearing through the droid ranks.
We fought our way through the storage room, the sound of blaster fire and explosions filling the air. The droids were relentless, but we were faster. Smarter. We had to be.
"Grab what you can!" I shouted, tossing a pack of medkits to Lucky. "We need to move—now!"
As we made our way back toward the gate, more droids were converging on our position. Spark was providing cover fire from the ridge, but it wouldn't hold them off for long.
"Vine, we've got company!" Spark called over the comm. "More droids heading your way."
I cursed under my breath, my mind racing for a solution. "We'll take the back route. Meet us at the rendezvous point."
Lucky and I sprinted through the outpost, dodging blaster fire as we cut through a maintenance tunnel that led out of the base. The droids were close behind, but we didn't stop. Not until we were clear.
We regrouped in a small cave a few kilometers from the outpost, breathing hard but alive. We had what we needed—supplies, power cells, medkits—but the price had been steep. The droids would be hunting us harder now. There would be no safe haven until we reached the Republic lines.
"We did it," Lucky muttered, collapsing against the cave wall.
"For now," I said, leaning back against the stone and closing my eyes. "But we're not out of this yet."
The weight of survival hung over us all. Every day, every fight, was costing us more than just supplies and energy. It was costing us our brothers, our hope, and bit by bit, our faith in this war.
As I sat in the cave, listening to Lucky's heavy breathing and Spark's quiet shifting, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. We had made it this far, but at what cost? Every victory seemed to leave us with fewer brothers, fewer options, and fewer reasons to keep fighting.
We weren't just soldiers anymore. We were survivors—hanging on by a thread.
"We did good today," Spark said, breaking the silence. "Got what we needed, no casualties this time."
I nodded, but I wasn't convinced. "It won't last. The Separatists know we're here, and they'll send more droids. That outpost will be on high alert by now. We can't stay in this valley much longer."
Lucky let out a low groan, leaning back against the cold rock wall. "So what's the plan now, Vine?"
The nickname still sounded foreign to me, even after all these weeks. But it stuck because I had stuck to my gut instinct when it mattered most. Now I had to do the same thing again, even if I wasn't sure where it would lead us.
"We move out at first light," I said, staring into the small fire we'd managed to build. "There's an old Republic listening post about ten clicks from here. If it's still operational, we might be able to get a message out, call for evac."
"And if it's not?" Spark asked, his voice carrying the weight of doubt we all felt.
I didn't answer immediately. The truth was, if the post wasn't operational, we were out of options. Felucia was a hostile world, and we didn't have the firepower or manpower to make it through endless waves of droids. We were running out of time.
"We'll figure it out when we get there," I finally said. "For now, we rest. We've got a long march ahead of us."
The cave fell into silence again, the crackling fire the only sound in the stillness. But my mind was far from quiet. The decisions I made over the next few hours could determine whether we lived or died. I couldn't afford to get it wrong.
As dawn broke over the valley, we packed up and moved out. The air was cooler now, the oppressive heat of the jungle behind us, but the tension hadn't lifted. The journey to the listening post was hard and slow, the rocky terrain wearing down our already exhausted bodies. Lucky's wound was healing, but he was still struggling to keep pace, and Spark's quiet resolve was showing signs of cracking under the pressure.
We reached the outskirts of the post by midday. It was smaller than I had imagined, just a collection of rusted antennae and decaying structures hidden in the cliffs. It had been abandoned for a long time, but it might still have enough juice to send a signal.
"Spark, you stay on watch," I said, scanning the perimeter with my macrobinoculars. "Lucky, help me check the equipment. Let's see if we can get this thing working."
We moved carefully through the ruins, the old Republic technology rusted and worn down by the elements. The main console was a mess of wires and broken panels, but the power core still hummed faintly—a small miracle in this wasteland.
As I worked on rerouting the power, Lucky kept watch, occasionally peeking out at the landscape beyond the post. We didn't have much time.
"You think this'll work?" Lucky asked, his voice tight with doubt.
"It has to," I replied, wiping sweat from my brow as I reconnected the last of the wires. "If we can get a message through, the Republic might be able to send reinforcements. If not…"
I didn't finish the sentence. We both knew what would happen if we couldn't get a signal through. We'd be stranded on Felucia, fighting a losing battle against an army that didn't tire, didn't hesitate, and didn't stop.
"Okay," I said, stepping back from the console. "Let's see what we've got."
I powered up the console, and the screen flickered to life, faint but readable. The static on the comms was deafening, but through the noise, I could hear something—a faint signal.
"We've got something," I muttered, adjusting the frequency. "It's weak, but it's there."
"Who are we contacting?" Lucky asked, his voice filled with cautious hope.
"Doesn't matter," I replied, my hands moving quickly over the controls. "Anyone who can hear us."
"…This is Sergeant CT-7744 of the Grand Army of the Republic, 191st Legion. We are stranded on Felucia, in need of immediate extraction. Republic forces, do you copy? Over."
Static filled the comms, but I kept repeating the message, hoping, praying, that someone out there was listening.
"…Sergeant CT-7744, 191st Legion. Stranded on Felucia. Requesting extraction. Over."
Silence.
And then—a crackle.
"…copy, Sergeant. This is Republic Command…"
Relief washed over me, and for the first time in days, I allowed myself to breathe.
"Hang tight," the voice continued. "We're sending a gunship your way. ETA is three hours."
"Copy that," I replied, my heart pounding in my chest. "We'll be ready."
I cut the transmission and turned to Lucky, who was grinning beneath his helmet.
"We did it," he said, letting out a relieved laugh. "We're getting out of here."
"Not yet," I said, forcing myself to stay focused. "We've still got to survive the next three hours. And the droids aren't going to make that easy."
As the hours ticked by, we hunkered down in the ruins, waiting for the gunship to arrive. The relief of knowing help was on the way was tempered by the knowledge that the Separatists wouldn't let us leave without a fight. We had to be ready.
And sure enough, as the sun began to set, the unmistakable sound of clanking metal echoed through the valley.
"Droids," Spark muttered, crouching beside me. "And a lot of them."
I raised my blaster, the weight of it familiar in my hands. "Let's make sure we're still here when that gunship arrives."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone