Chapter 77 : The Bounty Hunter Attack
Day fifty arrives with false normalcy—reduced production rate has stabilized neural function enough that materializing twenty-three weapons feels almost routine instead of daily catastrophe. The tremors remain but manageable. Vision whites out only twice daily now instead of hourly. Progress, relatively speaking.
The sensor alarm shatters normalcy at 1347 hours.
Pre Vizsla's voice cuts through facility-wide comm system with controlled urgency: "All hands to defensive stations. Massive incoming force detected at fifty kilometers. This is not drill."
I'm mid-materialization when alert sounds—rifle half-formed in System interface. Cancel it, grab personal equipment instinctively: cortosis armor, energy shield, blaster I've never actually fired in combat. My combat capability is theoretical at best but being armed feels better than watching helplessly.
Bo-Katan bursts into production facility already in full armor: "Command center. Now. You're not fighting."
"I can—"
"You can barely walk without tremors and you've never used blaster in actual combat. You're tactical liability, not asset. Command center has combat droids guarding it and reinforced walls. Stay there."
She's right, which is frustrating. My contribution to defense is supplying equipment Death Watch uses—direct combat participation would just create vulnerability requiring protection. Better to stay out of the way and let professionals work.
Command center is buried thirty meters below surface—reinforced chamber originally designed for mining operation central control. Now it's Death Watch tactical command with holographic displays showing sensor data that makes stomach drop.
Pre Vizsla studies tactical display with professional assessment that masks what must be concern. "Two hundred fourteen distinct sensor signatures. Multiple ship types—converted freighters, military dropships, civilian transports modified for combat. Coalition force rather than single organization."
"Bounty hunters," I say unnecessarily.
"Obviously. Dooku's five million credit reward finally motivated sufficient coordination that multiple organizations pooled resources." He activates communications array. "All warriors to designated defensive positions. Priority one: protect the base. Priority two: protect Varro—he's worth more than any individual warrior to our organization."
The calculus is brutal but honest. I supply Death Watch's technological advantage. Losing me means losing equipment superiority that makes them competitive faction. Eight warriors are expendable if my survival is secured.
"People will die defending me today. That's consequence of five-million-credit bounty I enabled through accumulated choices."
Holographic display shows bounty hunter coalition approaching in loose formation—not professional military coordination but better than random rabble. Someone planned this attack competently. Probably pooled intelligence regarding base location, coordinated ship movements, established command structure.
"Estimate of their capability?" I ask.
"Heterogeneous force," Vizsla responds while deploying Death Watch's eighty remaining warriors. "Quality varies significantly—some are professional military veterans, others are desperate amateurs seeking easy score. But two hundred bodies with weapons is substantial threat regardless of individual skill."
"Our equipment advantage?"
"Significant. Your supplied weapons outrange their blasters, armor provides better protection, automated defenses give force multiplier effect. But numbers matter. They can overwhelm positions through attrition we can't sustain."
First explosions rock base as bounty hunter artillery strikes defensive perimeter. They're not idiots—recognized our defensive positions during approach, targeted them with indirect fire before assault begins. Smart tactics that Death Watch must counter.
"Activate all automated defenses," Vizsla orders. "Deploy Pelican for air support. Strike teams prepare for counterattack."
Death Watch mobilizes with professional efficiency I've watched develop over months. This isn't their first siege defense. The difference is scale—200 attackers versus 80 defenders is worst odds they've faced protecting this operation.
Through command center surveillance feeds, I watch battle develop. Bounty hunters advance behind artillery suppression—attempting to destroy defensive emplacements before assault reaches them. Automated turrets I supplied activate, engaging targets at maximum range with AI-guided precision. First wave of hunters takes heavy casualties—twelve dead in opening minute.
But they keep coming. Professional military discipline mixed with desperate greed creates dangerous combination. They adapt tactics rapidly, using armored vehicles as mobile cover while advancing. Death Watch responds with anti-armor weapons—rockets designed for exactly this scenario.
Bo-Katan's voice cuts through tactical chatter: "Strike Team Two deploying. Flanking attack on their left column." Her jetpack team launches from concealed position, using three-dimensional mobility advantage to strike from unexpected angle.
The surveillance feeds show her team in action—six warriors coordinating perfectly, targeting bounty hunter command elements with precision fire. It's beautiful and terrifying simultaneously. She's extraordinarily competent at violence.
"That's my wife executing flanking maneuver that just killed five people."
The thought is dissonant—combining "wife" with "killed five people" in same sentence. But that's reality of marrying Mandalorian warrior. Violence is profession, not aberration.
Thirty minutes into battle, bounty hunters penetrate outer perimeter. They've adapted to automated defenses, identified blind spots, concentrated forces to overwhelm specific positions. Death Watch warriors fall back to secondary defensive line—planned retreat rather than rout but retreat nonetheless.
Casualties are mounting. Tactical display shows confirmed kills: twenty bounty hunters dead, five Death Watch warriors wounded. The ratio favors defenders but numbers favor attackers. They can trade two-to-one and still overwhelm through attrition.
"Deploy Pelican dropship," Vizsla orders. "Full air support, maximum aggression."
The Pelican launches from concealed hangar, chain gun already firing before reaching combat altitude. Seventy-millimeter autocannon stitches across bounty hunter positions with devastating effect. They have no anti-air capability—didn't expect Death Watch to have military-grade aircraft. The oversight costs them.
Strafing run kills seventeen hunters in forty seconds. Survivors scatter, seeking cover from aerial bombardment they can't counter. Bo-Katan's strike team capitalizes on chaos, pressing attack while enemies are disorganized.
"Status?" Vizsla demands of all positions.
Confirmations cascade through tactical net: "Position Alpha holding. Three wounded, ammunition low." "Position Beta compromised. Falling back to tertiary line." "Position Gamma secure. Targeting their vehicles now."
The battle is attritional nightmare. Death Watch's equipment advantage prevents immediate catastrophe but can't achieve decisive victory. Bounty hunters have numbers and desperation. Neither side can easily overwhelm the other.
Second hour brings increased brutality. Bounty hunters attempt direct assault on secondary perimeter—concentrated force attacking single position. Death Watch responds with crossfire that turns approach corridor into killing ground. Twenty-three hunters die in five minutes.
But three Death Watch warriors fall too. Surveillance shows them overrun by sheer numbers—fighting until ammunition depletes then dying with blades. Mandalorian warrior culture romanticizes this death. From command center it's just three names added to casualty list.
"We're losing warriors faster than sustainable rate," Vizsla mutters while redeploying forces. "Need to break their assault momentum."
"Personal combat droids," I suggest. "Deploy them as shock troops. Expendable force multiplier."
"Do it."
I activate three combat droids via command interface, direct them toward heaviest fighting. The droids are military-specification units—humanoid for versatility, heavily armed, programmed for aggressive assault rather than defensive holding. They charge into bounty hunter positions with mechanical precision that human warriors can't match.
The effect is immediate. Droids don't take cover, don't hesitate, don't care about casualties. They advance directly into fire, absorbing hits that would kill humans, returning fire with perfect accuracy. Bounty hunters panic—fighting humans is psychologically different from fighting machines that don't stop.
Third hour brings turning point. Bounty hunters realize they're losing—casualties exceed fifty dead, eighty wounded. Death Watch has lost eight warriors but maintains defensive coherence. The calculation becomes clear: continued assault means mutual annihilation with no guarantee of capturing target worth five million.
"They're withdrawing," tactical officer reports. "Multiple ships breaking orbit, others falling back to extraction points."
"Pursue?"
"Negative. Let them go. We've achieved defensive objective."
Battle ends not with dramatic final stand but attrition calculation—bounty hunters deciding reward doesn't justify cost. They withdraw in relatively organized fashion, leaving forty-seven dead and equipment scattered across battlefield.
Death Watch's victory is pyrrhic. Eight warriors dead defending base. Twelve wounded, four seriously. Automated defenses damaged. Ammunition depleted significantly. Base location definitively compromised—surviving hunters will sell coordinates to others.
I emerge from command center as warriors conduct damage assessment. Bodies are being collected—Death Watch observing cultural traditions even during crisis. The fallen receive full warrior funeral rites. Bounty hunter corpses are stripped of equipment then left for nature.
Bo-Katan finds me examining damaged defensive perimeter. She's removed helmet, expression exhausted but satisfied in way only warrior who survived combat can be.
"We held."
"At significant cost. Eight dead. All defending me."
"Eight dead defending Death Watch strategic asset. You're not personally responsible for their choice to fight." But her tone suggests she knows I'll feel responsible anyway.
Pre Vizsla approaches while field medics treat his shoulder wound—shrapnel from grenade blast that nearly killed him. "Your bounty nearly destroyed us, Varro. Dooku made you expensive to protect."
"I know."
"But we did protect you. That's what clan membership means—defending each other regardless of cost." He activates datapad showing tactical analysis. "Base location is compromised. Surviving hunters will sell coordinates. We have maybe forty-eight hours before second wave arrives. Recommend immediate relocation."
"Production facilities are damaged. Hutt contract requires—"
"Hutt contract is secondary to survival. We relocate now, rebuild later. Non-negotiable."
He's right. Staying means facing reinforced bounty hunter assault we might not survive. Running means disrupting production timeline again, adding penalties, reducing profit further. But dead men collect zero credits.
"Understood. Begin evacuation procedures."
That night, I review casualty list that Death Watch compiled: eight names I memorize despite knowing none personally. They were warriors who chose combat profession, accepted risks, died doing what Mandalorians consider honorable. That's rationalization, but it's what Bo-Katan offers when she finds me in damaged production facility.
"This isn't your fault."
"Eight people died defending my profit margin. How is that not my fault?"
"They died as warriors, in combat, defending their clan. That's honorable death in our culture. Best end any Mandalorian hopes for." She sits beside me amid damaged equipment. "You didn't force them to fight. They chose clan loyalty, accepted consequences, and died with weapons in hand. From our perspective, that's success."
"That's rationalization designed to make warrior culture sustainable despite casualties."
"Maybe. But it's our rationalization, not yours. You don't get to appropriate their sacrifice as your guilt. They made choice. Honor that choice instead of twisting it into self-flagellation."
"I brought five-million-credit bounty here. That's direct causation to their deaths."
"You brought business that supplies our entire operation. We chose to protect that business knowing risks. Causation is shared, not solely yours." She stands, extending hand. "Come. We have evacuation to prepare. Guilt is luxury we can't afford when survival requires action."
R4 hovers close as Bo-Katan leaves: "Master's guilt is resurfacing. Assessment: psychological defenses failing under accumulated trauma. Recommend processing emotional response rather than suppressing."
"Processing won't bring back eight warriors who died for my operation."
"Correct. Nothing will. But allowing guilt to compound without processing creates psychological damage equivalent to neural degradation. Master's mental health is declining parallel to physical health recovery."
"Noted. Adding to list of problems without solutions."
Eight interjects with characteristic lack of empathy: "Master should focus on relocation logistics and contract completion. Dwelling on casualties is inefficient use of cognitive resources."
"Master's cognitive resources are degrading from suppressed emotional trauma, not insufficient optimization. Efficiency without humanity creates psychological collapse."
They argue while I sit in damaged facility, surrounded by equipment I supplied that enabled defense but wasn't sufficient to prevent eight deaths. The math is brutal: my operation created conditions for battle that killed people defending asset I represent.
Forward requires evacuation, relocation, contract completion despite disruption, and psychological processing of accumulating guilt that Eight dismisses as inefficient and R4 recognizes as necessary.
The balance between merchant optimization and human capacity for processing consequences is collapsing. But collapsing must wait until after evacuation completes and new base is established.
Survival first. Everything else after survival is secured.
That's pattern. And pattern is self-destructive but only available response I know.
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