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Blood and Steel

Discussion in 'Literary Arts' started by Madrar, May 21, 2013.

  1. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    For those of you that don't know anything about Star wars, I've added some links for your education.​
    Dramatis Personae
    CC-1223/1993 'Drake' -Human male,Clone Commander​
    CT-1235/1872 'Cross'-Human male,Clone Trooper, Medic​
    CC-1262/1822 'Vyre'-Human male, Clone Captain​
    General Jevik Adraxis- Human male, Jedi knight​
    Commander Allanna Starsong-Human female, Jedi apprentice​
     
  2. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    Prologue
    Battle of Geonosis

    The gunship, an LAAT/i, roared through the orange-red skies of Geonosis, carrying a compliment of thirty clone troopers, all shiny in their new, white armour, except for one man, who had the yellow stripes of a commander. CC-1223/1993 held onto the gunships grab rail, keeping his balance as the ship jinked to avoid anti aircraft fire. "Remember lads, when we touch down, we hit them hard, and rendezvous with the hundred and twelfth to assist with their objective" a chorus of acknowledgements met this announcement. The soldiers were only thirty out of a full battalion. The two hundred and thirtieth battalion, had trained together on Kamino. If any of them were nervous about their first battle, none of them showed it.
    That was when everything went to hell. A Geonosian pilot, either desperately, or deliberately, rammed his ship into the side of the gunship. The tip of the spear tip shaped fighter rammed through the closed door of the gunship, sending it into an uncontrollable spin. The other side of the gunship rammed something, possibly the canyon wall, and the roar of the ships engines took on an urgent whine. "Brace yourselves!" Bellowed the commander, and seconds later, the ship nose dived into the desert sand of the the planet. Corpses littered the bottom of the ship, either killed by the collision, or the final crash. Only four troopers had survived, out of the thirty in the gunship.
    The sound of approaching battle droids came to '23, and the three others. The troopers sprang up, opening fire on the enemy. One trooper took several blaster bolts to his upper chest, and collapsed. The commander stumbled out of the ruin of the gunship, firing his own DC-15A blaster at the, emotionless, death delivering machines marching towards him. A waist height droid, with four legs and a spherical body, a long laser cannon, and large, spherical red eyes. It homed in on him, and fired. He felt, rather than heard, the blaster laser punch through his chest plate. The force of the bolt threw him back into the gunship, where the side of the gunship door slammed into him. Something had caught fire, and he could feel the hot metal burning into his flesh. Unfortunately, there was no one left alive to hear his screams.


    Chapter One
    Introductions
    Republic Base, Coruscant
    96 days after the battle of Geonosis

    Geonosis after action report: Twelve thousand seriously injured men, eight thousand walking wounded, approximately seventy two thousand men fit for combat


    CC-1223/1993, also known as Drake, jerked away with a stifled gasp. Recently, the nightmares had gotten worse. He wasn't supposed to have nightmares...clones had been flash-drilled to not have nightmares. Or show fear in battle, or question orders, ever. Drake had done all of that, at some point after Geonosis, but mostly within the sanctuary of his helmet. The Jedi might have their magical 'Force' to help them out, but even they couldn't hear conversations inside a closed comm channel.​
    Throwing off the thin blanket that was covering him, he noticed a slight tremor in his right hand, and glared at it until it stilled. He was one of four clones in the room, all of whom were identical to Drake. Black hair, brown eyes, six feet tall, and well muscled.Thanks to the Kaminoans, he, like all his brothers, aged at an accelerated rate. Drake had the body and mind of a twenty year old man, but really, he was ten years of age. The only difference between the four of them, was Drakes' scars. The large, blaster scar in the center of his chest, and the burn scars all over his back, wide, crisscrossing scars from the ruin of the gunship door three months ago. He had a few smaller scars on his face, from the shrapnel of his brother's armour.​
    Normally, someone would have seen their scars as a sign of individuality, but for Drake, they were a constant reminder of his greatest failure. He was a clone commander, bred to lead his brothers in combat, and to be there for them when they needed a helping hand, or a sympathetic ear. Falling apart because of the nightmares and his scars was not an option.Ever. Only Cross, the medic in the squad, and Vyre, one of the captains in the battalion and Drakes close friend knew of his fears. Fears of being incompetent.Deficient. Fear of going back to Kamino.Again.​
    Shaking his fears away, or to the back of his mind for now, at least. Punching in the combination for the armour locker, he pulled on his black bodysuit, legs first, then the top. Then he placed on his boots, greaves, poleyn, thigh plates, the front and back plates, that connected at the shoulders by a pair of magnetic clasps, his belt, containing extra ammunition, a pair of thermal detonators, a water bottle, and med kit. Then the gauntlets,lames, vambraces,cowter, rerebraces, spaulders, and finally, the helmet.​
    As he placed it on his head, he blinked once, bringing up any messages or alerts that he needed to know about. Only one message, informing Drake that the 230th would be receiving their new Jedi commander and general in approximately one hour. The clone sighed, a little disappointed, and a little irritated. The battalions last Jedi had died trying to protect civilians from an AAT, an armoured assault tank. Both the Jedi and the civvies had ended up as a red mist. After that battle, on a planet Drake couldn't remember the name of, GAR command had sent the 230th to Coruscant, to recover from their wounds, and await a new general.

    Technically, a major should have lead the battalion, not Drake, but for whatever reason, he was in charge. 'Then again, we can hardly be thought of as a full battalion,now can we?' Thanks to casualties from both Geonosis, and subsequent battles in the past couple of months, the battalion had been whittled down from the standard four companies, six hundred and sixty men, to three companies. Reinforcements had yet to arrive from Kamino, and he personally doubted they would. Other battalions, companies, and regiments besides the 230th had been hit hard since the beginning of the war.

    "Drake? You okay?" 'Vyre' even when he was in full armour, Vyre always seemed to know when he was sinking into one of his moods. Vyre was the captain of the battalions first company, and Drakes' second. "Fine, Vyre, just thinking about meeting the new general today" he responded. The other trooper grunted in surprise "that's today? I thought they wouldn't get off their shebs' until next week, at least" the commander shrugged, watching as the captain dressed in his own body suit and began armouring up. "I guess they want us ready to go as soon as possible" he remarked, nodding to the two other troopers that were getting out of their bunks. Jag and Cross, a trooper, and medic, respectively. The rest of the nine man squad was in the other room, probably already awake and armouring up.​
    "Help me with this, will you?" Drake glanced over to see Vyre struggling with the back plate. It wasn't always easy to fasten the magnetic clamps, and best to have a brother help. Wordlessly, he brought up the back plate, and fastened the two clamps. Vyre nodded his thanks, and placed his own helmet on. Another anonymous, white helmeted, with a T-shaped visor. Both of them had gold yellow markings on their armour. Vyre had a trim of gold on his chest plates, helmet, and spaulders, while Drake had painted his lames, the plates covering the top of his hands, solid yellow gold, as well as his shoulder spaulders.​

    It was common practice in most, if not all units to paint their armour with the unit colour. Of course, troopers needed to earn the colours in battle, before they could mark the armour. Drake wasn't entirely sure where the tradition had come from. Perhaps it was a desire for individuality, or an act of defiance against the Kaminoans. The first thing all troopers did when they were safely away from Kamino was remove the ultra-violet markings the skinny grey freaks had placed on their armour to identify them.​
    All of Drakes' squad had markings'. Ice, the squads' sergeant, nodded in greeting as they filed out of the barracks, and towards the mess hall. "Another beautiful morning on Coruscant" the sergeant said brightly. "Ice, have you been hitting the stims?" Jag asked, his helmet tucked under one arm,revealing his grin. And the jagged scar that ran from just over his left eye, across the bridge of his nose, and ending at the corner of his mouth. The scar that had inspired him to name himself 'Jag'. Despite the injury, he kept a good sense of humor, and wasn't afraid to crack jokes, at anyone's expense.​
    The squad sergeant, despite outranking the trooper, just chuckled and shook his head. "Maybe I'm just naturally cheery" he said, stepping into the mess hall. Most of the battalion, those that weren't on shift, were in the mess hall, getting breakfast. "Nuna eggs, and nerf bacon again" groaned Vyre, heading for a mostly unoccupied table. Following, Jag quipped "would you prefer dry rations?" The captain shuddered. It wasn't that dry rations tasted bad...they just didn't taste like anything. They had all the nutrients that a soldiers body needed to keep functioning, cut down on fiber, and were despised by clones. They'd eat almost anything else, and almost all of them had a sweet tooth.​
    Not that any of them had ever had sweets. Or much of anything else, except food approved by the Kaminoans. Setting his tray down, piled with scrambled eggs, and perhaps more than the approved amount of bacon, he tucked into his meal. He'd probably need the strength for dealing with the new general, if they were anything like the old one. Drake had never opposed the first generals decisions, but he'd quietly despised the man. He wasted men to take impregnable bunkers and command stations. Despite Drake giving tactical advice, and being ignored, he'd followed his training like a good little trooper, and lost an entire company of good men. And then the general had gone and gotten himself blown to bits.​
    "Waste" he grunted, and Cross, sitting opposite him shot him a puzzled look. He shook his head, indicating the medic shouldn't pay him any attention. 'Gotta keep my head in the game. For all I know, these Jedi might be decent' he reasoned. But he doubted it, and suspected he wouldn't ever fully regain the respect he'd had for the Jedi at the beginning of the war. He ate quickly, chewing the minimum amount of times, as was drilled into him on Kamino. They finished their breakfast quickly. The night shift people were just coming in, to eat their supper, before heading to bed.​
    "The Jedi are supposed to be arriving in a few minutes, at the landing pad, in the next few minutes" Drake announced, wiping his mouth, and putting on his helmet. The squad stood with him, copying him. With a nod, the commander lead the eight mean outside, where an airspeeder was setting down, with a man and woman, wearing the typical Jedi robes. "At attention, men" he ordered softly, and the eight clones snapped to attention, blasters held diagonally across their chests, legs together, heads high. Drake strode towards the now settled speeder, trying to keep his less than pleasant thoughts under control. By now the Jedi were out of the speeder, and making their way towards him. He stopped just short of them, and snapped to attention, bringing his left hand up in a salute. "cc-1223/1993 reporting for duty" the two Jedi, an older man that Drake presumed to be in his mid to late forties, and the other,a younger girl, human, maybe eighteen, with long auburn hair, and curious, slightly frightened green eyes.​
    "Don't you have a name?" She asked. Drake stiffened, his eyes flicking from the older man, who was also watching him with a polite curiosity. "Yes...but it's private" he said, trying not to sound too rude. He didn't like Jedi, but he would have to be careful that they decided they didn't want him as a battalion commander and had him sent back to Kamino. The girl frowned, but only for a moment, before shrugging, and saying "well, my name is Allanna Starsong. I'm an apprentice, as you can see by my braid" she held up the twined hair for his instruction.​

    The other Jedi, the man, stepped forwards, extending his hand for shaking. Automatically, Drake mirrored the gesture, clasping the mans' hand. "Jedi knight Jevik Adraxis, a pleasure to meet you, commander" underneath his helmet, the clone frowned. He hadn't told the man his rank, and yet he'd known it without even a glance at his rank bars. "Yes, sir. The battalion will be ready to move out by nightfall" the general nodded, heading to introduce himself to the command squad. The apprentice- commander, remained, staring at him with curiosity on her face. "So....if you're a commander, and I'm a commander, does that mean we're on equal footing?" She didn't seem to mind being equal with a clone. In fact, she seemed interested in the possibility, but that just wasn't how things worked. "No ma'am. A Jedi automatically outranks any clone" he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral.​
    *****
    Allanna almost stumbled back from the dark...maelstrom of emotions coming from the clone commander. He definitively wasn't like the other clones she'd met. He was a tightly controlled vortex of hate and sorrow and violence. Something horrible must have happened to him in the last three months...and his men as well. They didn't have the same amount of dark hatred, but they were cautious, almost skittish around the Jedi. Usually, clone troopers were trusting, and awe struck in the presence of Jedi. She'd been told this was because of their training, on the watery world of Kamino, where they'd been taught that Jedi were basically demi-gods.​
    She wasn't sure that was a good thing. Jedi were unsure of themselves too, they knew doubt, fear, grieved the loss of friends just as much as anyone else. Clones didn't believe her when she told them that. She didn't insist, knowing that it might make them feel better, believing they had someone powerful, and nearly omniscient leading them into battle.​
    She approached the line of eight troopers, who were still standing at attention. "At ease, men" master Jevik was saying, his hands clasped behind his back. The soldier relaxed slightly, lowering their weapons, and setting their feet farther apart. She approached one of the men, with a sergeants markings on his chest plate. "Hey there, do you mind if I ask your name? Your real name?" The sergeant hesitated, tilting his helmet to the side, obviously wondering why.​
    Slowly, carefully, he replied "the men call me Ice, ma'am" and then tensed, as if he expected to be punished for the independence he'd shown in naming himself. "A nice name, Ice" she said, smiling at the sergeant. "Mine is Allanna Starsong" she wasn't sure, but she thought the sergeant was smiling as well. She introduced herself to the rest of the squad, learning their names in return.​
    However, she noticed that the men she had and hadn't introduced herself too were still nervous. When she mentioned it to master Adraxis, he'd nodded grimly. "I'm not sure what happened, but the battalion is under strength, and they won't talk about their former assignments...none of them will" the two Jedi were concerned. For something so bad to happen that the troopers wouldn't even try talking to the two of them didn't speak well for their leadership of the battalion.​
     
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  3. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    So, opinions, advice? Questions? Feel free to comment!
     
  4. Drahkma

    Drahkma Dashing Imperial Officer.

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    Okay, easily the best fan fiction I've read on here! Keep up the good work.
     
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  5. TheShadedOne

    TheShadedOne The Angry One

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    Well, I said I'd be all over it...MORE!:D
     
  6. Andre Marek

    Andre Marek You can run, but you'll only die tired...

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    Wow... nice. I'd give some rep but the site won't let me at the moment. I never even considered writing a Star Wars fan fic on here. Gonna have to look into that.
     
  7. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    Well, thanks for the positive reviews, guys. Chapter two by the middle of this week.
     
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  8. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    Chapter Two
    The Justice
    96 Days ABG
    "Scars mean you weren't good enough...Too slow to duck, which usually means a trip to Kamino"- Clone Commander Drake​
    The gunships deposited the two hundred and thirtieth in the hangar bay of the Venator class star destroyer, the Justice.The destroyer was huge, bigger than anything Jag had ever seen. "Learn the layout of the ship, men. Those of you not on duty, get to the mess, and pick out your bunks" the commander ordered. Jag acknowledged the order, and turned towards the ships barracks. The rest of the squad behind him, and picked an unoccupied barracks. "Get rid of your gear, and we'll get some food" sergeant Ice said, beginning to remove his own armour.

    Jag removed his own helmet, opening the chest at the foot of the bunk he'd chosen. In moments, he had his armour off, and had dressed in off duty greys. Looking around, Jag noticed that only Dagger, Tor, Cross, and the sergeant were all with him, but the other four of the nine man squad were missing.'Probably came in on another gunship' he thought, rubbing absently at his scar. It was almost finished healing, but it itched like crazy sometimes.

    Cross didn't like it when he rubbed at it. The medic had fussed over it in the early days, fearing it wouldn't heal properly. Being Jags' brother by choice, he worried more than he probably should have. A 'brother by choice' was what clones called the brother that they had chosen t have each others backs, knowing what one was going to do before he did it. Backing him up when he needed it. Cross and Jag had come out of Kamino together, which helped. They'd known each other their entire lives.
    "Hey sarge, do you know where the others are?" Ice frowned thoughtfully.

    "Hazard and Storm are on duty in the hangar bay. I think the commander wanted Sharp and River with him up on the bridge. Courtesy call to the admiral" Jag grunted his approval. He liked to keep an eye on his brothers, ever since Geonosis. Maybe it was from surviving the first battle of the war, those that had survived had bonded. Until the battle a month ago, where they'd lost an entire company. A hundred and forty four men, in one battle, along with their general. And Jag had gotten his scar, and his name.

    He nodded towards two troopers, Dagger and Tor "get us a table, we'll get the chow" the sergeant turned and joined a group of sergeants from the three companies. Jag didn't mind, really, since Ice hadn't had much of a chance to talk with his fellow sergeants since the battle. Most had been on different duty shifts than he had. Cross and Jag got meals for the four of them. Mashed topatoes and roba steak, with cups of muja juice. Turning to the table that Tor and Dagger had picked out, near the door to the mess hall and to the right, across from the sergeants table.

    Dagger grinned at the meal in front of him, digging in eagerly. Tor, however, was observing the sergeant with a shrewd look in his eye. "What do you wanna bet that he's discussing new way's of torture to use on us?" Cross snorted, and Jag grinned at the man. Tor was one of the soldiers that tended to complain about practices...and then do twice as good as everyone else. "Why, Tor, planning on out doing us again?" joked Cross, cutting into the steak, and making a face.

    "Could they actually try defrosting the shabla food before serving it to us?" He grumbled, glaring at the pre-cooked, and flash frozen steak. The others laughed, and Dagger said "well, you could always be the cook, Cross" the squad medic laughed and shook his head. They talked and joked for a little while longer, before Dagger asked the question that they all knew was coming: " So, what do you guys think of the general, and his apprentice?" The group glanced at one another, looking uncomfortable. This topic was unknown territory for the squad, since they'd only had experience with one Jedi before.

    "Well, they don't seem as bad as the old general" volunteered Dagger, Jag had to agree. The battalions last general had treated the clones as products, and wasted men without listening to advice from the commander or any of the other men. "I noticed that the new commander- the generals apprentice, made a point of introducing herself" the others nodded. Tor, piped up as well "The general doesn't seem half bad either. Might not have asked our names, but at least he had the decency to speak with us" Again, the others nodded.

    While cautious about their new Jedi, they could hope for the best. Besides, it wasn't like they could say :'sorry, but we don't want these Jedi, could you send us some others?' And they didn't have it half as bad as the commander. It was his duty to wait on the two Jedi hand and foot if need be. All the normal troopers had to do was nod and carry out orders, like good little soldiers.Easy enough.

    Conversation in the mess ceased abruptly, and looking to the entrance, Jag saw the reason. The general, commander Starsong, and the commander had entered the room. Drakes' helmet was on, concealing his face, but by his body language, one hand opening and closing nervously. Some of the troopers were out of their seats, looking to their commander for orders. Their previous general had expected the troopers to snap to attention. Master Adraxis put their concerns to rest "at ease, gentlemen" he said, smiling gently.
    The men in the mess hall relaxed slightly, returning to their meals. The fact that the two new officers had chosen to eat among the troops, said that they at least respected them. 'Interesting...I wonder if it's little things like this that we remember'. Thought Jag, forking more half-defrosted steak into his mouth.
    *****​
    Drake could barely control his hands. He managed to keep them from trembling only by clenching and unclenching them. It helped that his helmet was still in pace, concealing his facial scars. The scars that he'd gotten when several near hits had melted part of his helmet, scarring his right cheek and jaw, almost up to the eye. He'd dismissed Sharp and River after the initial tour of the destroyer. It didn't look like they were in the mess hall, which meant they were probably relaxing in the barracks.

    Unfortunately, that meant he was alone with two Jedi. Captain Scythe, one of the company leaders, half raised his arm in greeting, before he noticed the two Jedi with Drake. Immediately, the clone lowered his arm, and nearly leapt from his seat in his haste to stand at attention. The general spoke, calmly and pleasantly, as if he'd just walked into a room of his peers. That caught them by surprise.

    Drake saw his brothers exchanging uncertain glances, silently asking 'is this guy for real?'Drake had to admit, the way the general and his overly enthusiastic apprentice made their way through the mess hall was much different than he'd ever seen his former general act. They exchanged nods and a few salutes, before picking an open, unoccupied table. He would have liked to just leave, take a shower, and maybe come back later to grab something to eat.

    Then, as if reading his mind, the new commander, Starsong, looked up at him and smiled. "Why don't you take a seat, commander?" Drake was thinking of a polite way to refuse her, but the general was watching him, eyebrows lifted in mild curiosity, and a little concern. With a silent curse, he took his seat, sitting across from the pair. Allana giggled and the generals' eyebrows went up even further, a slight smile on his lips. "You'll have a hard time eating with your helmet on, commander" he said mildly.

    'Fierfek' he thought vehemently. As long as his helmet was on, he was safe, it was his own private sanctuary. Plus, no one could stare at his scars if he kept his bucket on. He didn't mind so much when his brothers saw them. He couldn't have prevented that, seeing as he slept in a room with them, and usually didn't bother with a shirt. Women, particularly civilian women, didn't like scars. He wasn't sure about Jedi, whether they cared or not. He hadn't seen many Jedi with scars, so he assumed they did. And he was facing to of them at the moment.

    He noticed that his hands were starting to shake again. 'Just take it off and get it over with, you hutuun' he scolded himself, grabbing his helmet firmly, and removing it. The commander let out a startled gasp, stopping her hand from going to her mouth. The general only nodded, as if something had been made clear to him. He could see the pity in the commanders eyes, and he hated it. He neither needed nor wanted their pity. Neither of them said anything though, just bending their heads to their meals .

    He appreciated that. At least they didn't laugh, or sneer, or decide that they didn't want him as battalion commander. He tried to answer the simple questions they had, about the ship functions, or how the battalion worked. He explained things to them, but kept his face down while he spoke. There was no need for him to see the pity in the new commanders eyes again.
     
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  9. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    Well, I lied. Another chapter before the middle of the week:p Would have had it up last night, but the site was being a pain in the ass, again.
     
  10. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    Chapter Three
    Back in action
    104 Days ABG
    Battle of Muunilinst
    "An army of one man, but the right man for the job!"-Clone trooper rallying call​

    "Hey! I think I can see the IGBC headquarters from here!" Yelled Sharp, leaning out of the gunships bay, surveying the cityscape below the speeding gunship. "Sharp!" Snapped Drake, glowering at his trooper through the T-visor of his helmet. "Get your head back in here, before a sniper shoots it off!" The conversation took place inside the helmet commlinks, as the wind whipping through the gunship bay made external audio impossible. "Sorry,boss" Sharp replied immediately, pulling his head back inside. Drake didn't really blame his brother for wanting to observe the city. It was one of the few planets with large cities they'd been to, and Sharp had always loved big cities.
    They were over the capital city of Hairnaidan, on the mineral rich terrestrial planet of Muunilinst. It was four months since the battle of Geonosis, and the 230th, the 91st Reconnaissance Corps, and the 212th assault corps were co-ordinating in an assault on the planet. Both the local Muuns and the Inter galactic banking clan were aligned with the separatists. The 212th, under general Kenobi and commander Cody had gone in first, with the 91st reconnaissance. The 230th was landing in the city's eastern sector, to suppress the droid infantry forces that were massing for a counter attack.

    The ship jinked as laser blasts and rockets tore through the air from below. Obviously, the droids weren't too happy about their arrival. The bubble turret gunners opened up with their composite beam lasers as the ship dropped vertically on its repulsorlifts. The thin B1 battle droids were easily cut in half by the concentrated energy of the two weapons. Once the gunship was a metre above the ground, Drake snapped his rifle into firing position and hopped out, firing on the first droid he saw. He didn't wait for it to go down, instead turning and firing again, taking down a second droid.

    The rest of the troopers in fanned out in a scattered combat line formation, covering one another with blaster fire. The first responders quickly fell to the barrage, and the clones regrouped into their squads and the general and his apprentice approached. He hadn't seen them land, but assumed they had been in a gunship behind his. He snapped a quick salute, at the same time tapping into the officers comms, that was spread between the 91st recon, 212th, and the 230th, with main comm support. "General, commander. The two hundred and twelfth are making good progress towards the city centre. Our artillery has taken out most of their gun platforms as well. We should be clear for our advance"

    General Adraxis nodded absently, as if he was listening to his own comm channel. 'The Force, I guess' thought Drake, patiently awaiting his orders, and giving no outward indication that he was nervous about his first battle under the general and his apprentice. Then he nodded again, with finality, and turned to face him fully. "Understood commander. Our objective, is obviously, to push back the droid forces. If we let them regroup, we'll have a very serious problem on our hands. You're with me, commander. Captain!" Vyre, who'd been overseeing the troopers assembling into their squads, snapped to attention.

    "You're with commander Starsong. We'll hit the droids with a two pronged attack" Vyre nodded and began rounding up his men. It was a sound strategy, but one that deprived Drake of his company. He didn't mind too much, though, especially if that was the only mistake Adraxis made. He turned to the members of second company, lead by captain Edge, also known as CC-7791/7777. "Looks like you're with me captain" he said motioning for them to fall in. Third company would follow, and act as reserves, as they'd established aboard the Justice when discussing the plan.

    Scythe and his boys weren't pleased about staying out of the action, but they'd do what they were told. 'The GAR: the one army in the galaxy made up of living beings that you never have to worry about insubordination.Ever.' Thought Drake, as he moved up to cover the generals' back. The first few minutes of the advance went by smoothly, Drake listening, and responding to reports from both companies. "Didn't the 91st Recon come through here?" Asked Jigsaw, one of the troopers in second company's first squad. "I think so. Dunno how far ahead they went, so keep your eyes peeled for snipers" responded Zar, the squad sergeant.
    Drake heard all of this, informing the general when he thought there was something he should know. The men were moving quickly, efficiently, but also cautiously, craning their necks to check out the tall buildings on either side of the street. The problem with urban scenarios was that there were plenty of places for a smart commander to place droid snipers. Droids gave off little to no heat signatures, making infrared nearly useless, which meant troopers had to eyeball the buildings and try to spot the droids before the droids spotted them.

    The general suddenly paused, as if he'd heard something, then snapped his hand towards Drake, just as he heard the sudden bdapp of a high powered blaster rifle firing. Drake was thrown backwards, hitting a pile of rubble, hard. His armour took the brunt of the impact though, and while he was winded, he didn't have a fist sized blaster hold going through his head. He heard captain Edge bark "snipers! Trace trajectories and take 'em out!" Drake knew he should have said that, but second company was Edges'. They'd react faster to his orders, than they would the commanders.

    He scrambled to his feet, seeking cover behind a heap of rubble, probably caused by an early artillery strike. He, along with the others scanned the top floors, searching for the sniper in questions. "There!" A trooper pointed up and to the right, where a long, thin barrel of a sniper rifle extended from a building . Return fire hit the buildings window, and the droid fell back, either damaged or destroyed. But everyone that knew anything about droids, knew they were almost never alone. It wasn't long before more droids popped up, discarding discretion for better firing positions.

    "Take cover!" snapped Drake, ducking down as a hail of blaster bolts rained down on them. A man grunted, his armour clattering as he went down. "Check is down" someone reported ,the calmness in his voice telling Drake that the trooper was only injured, not dead. That, and the fact that he was manoeuvring his way towards a pile of rubble, one leg held out straight, his thigh plate smoking. Something too heavy to be a sniper rifle, or normal blaster opened up from one of the balconies, adding to the storm of red laser fire around the company. "Wrecker is down" Drake growled as he popped up from cover, taking down another droid. He'd heard the gasp, and 'click', indicating that Wrecker was dead, not just injured.

    The main problem was, the lack of heavy weapons in the company. The 230th was an infantry battalion, and most of the squads were line squads, not specialists. That meant no mortar launchers, no grenade launchers, and no rocket launchers. Meaning the troopers were stuck slugging it out blaster to blaster. Normally, Drake didn't mind: the battalion hadn't been in urban situations before, and didn't really need to worry about sharpshooters. Now, however, pinned in a fairly narrow street, with little, to no manoeuvring room, it was a different story. He looked for the general, and to his surprise, spotted him not hunkering down with the rest of the troopers, but moving with a speed only Jedi could match, his green lightsaber batting blaster bolts back into the droids even as they fired at the company.

    The heavy repeating blaster on the balcony, an E-web, the commander thought, finally fell silent. Glancing up from cover, he saw the sturdy weapon, smoke trailing from its' barrel, but the room behind it, and the few droids still mostly intact, were a mess. "EMP grenade?" He asked, turning to a trooper. The man nodded, hefting another of the electro magnetic pulse grenades "yes sir. Finally managed to get a good angle while it was cooling" Drake noticed that most of the other droids had been destroyed as well. Taking a moment to slap a new power pack into his blaster he nodded at the trooper. "A good throw. What's your name, trooper?" The commander didn't need the man to remove his helmet to know he was grinning, when he said "my name's Toss, sir"

    The general returned, deactivating his lightsaber, and nodding to the assembled troopers. "Good work men. Commander, casualties?" 'He thinks of his men first.A good sign' Drake admitted, before saluting "one dead, one injured, sir" the General winced, as if Wreckers' death was his fault, somehow. "I see. The injured man, can he still move?" Drake turned to Check, who had a medic looking him over. "It'll be sore, but I can still use it, sir" Adraxis nodded, and turned back to Drake. "We should keep moving. I don't doubt the droids have set up more ambushes up ahead" Drake nodded, then started as he heard additional heavy blaster fire, most likely from two streets over.
    *****​
    Allanna knew they were in trouble as soon as the first column of droids turned the corner. She had her lightsabre in her hand, but the droids, large, steel grey machines with hulking upper bodies and dual blasters on their right arms, were faster. "Get down, ma'am!" Shouted the clone captain beside her, knocking her aside with an armoured shoulder. One of the scarlet energy rounds narrowly missed the man, who was scrambling away from her. Snapping out of the shock of the attack, she lifted her arm, and activated her weapon with a snap-hiss. The sky blue blade hissed and crackled as she hopped in front of the troopers, deflecting the droids' weapons back at them. The captain was on his feet, firing past her, although the large droids were going down much harder than the B1 battle droids. 'I guess now I know why they're called super battle droids' she thought, slapping another bolt back at one droid.

    It staggered, but didn't go down. Allanna glared at the thing, and extended one hand, shoving with the Force. Then the droid fell, and several of the B1 battle droids went down as well. One of the clones stepped forward, and tossed a sphere into the gap. The resulting explosion destroyed most of the front rank of super battle droids. She leaped forward, her first strike taking off the head of one droid. She was aware of the clone troopers behind her, calloing out to one another, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She spun on her heel, neatly amputating one droids blaster arm at the shoulder. Her second strike cut the mech completely into two glowing halves. Blue-white blaster fire screamed past her, knocking down several other droids that had been marching forwards, firing their weapons. However, the fight wasn't yet done. Nearly two dozen of the skinny, narrow headed droids stormed forwards, and she could feel the pain and anger of the soldiers behind them, as they fought and were injured.

    She stepped forwards, decapitating another droid, deflecting another shot into the mech behind it, and Force pushing another into one of the buildings hard enough to deactivate it. Then the captain, Vyre, she thought he'd told her his name was, caught up to her, blasting one droid point blank, and knocking another to the ground. With him came several other soldiers, all of them with the golden yellow trimming their armour. She wasn't sure why only some of the men had painted their armour, but now certainly wasn't the time to ask questions. She deflected a blaster bolt that would have struck her in the chest, and turned to the captain. "Captain, what's the situation of the others?" The man continued firing into the ranks of droids, as he responded "Second company was ambushed by snipers, but they only took one casualty. Third company is ready to step in and provide reinforcements. Your call, ma'am" Allanna nodded, dodging a round that nearly took her head off. "Call in third company then, captain" she just hoped they'd be in time to stop the tide of droids.
    *****​
    Jag was not having the best of days. Then, neither was the rest of first company, judging by the curses and gasps of pain that came over the shared comm channel. They were up front with the Jedi commander, trying to stem a flood of droids that weren't in the mood for stopping, it seemed. "How many of the damned things are there?" He growled, even as he blasted one the mechs' off its' feet. "You don't want to know" Tor responded, grunting as a blaster bolt shrieked through the air over his left shoulder. "Stay focused" snapped sergeant Ice. The man was usually easy going, but when the squad was in the heat of battle, he didn't put up with idle talk. Jag closed his mouth, and focused on the nearest droid. Not the ten or so shooting at him, from all over the kriffing street.

    Ice stood behind and to the left of Vyre, firing his own deece into the crowd of metallic bodies. "Stand strong, men. Third company is inbound" that was Vyres' voice. Calm, even when he was seconds from possible death. Those words rallied the 230ths' first company. They formed a solid line of white and gold plastoid, weapons up, firing continually into the ranks of battle droids. What felt like hours, but must have been shorter than that, the relentless tide of droids stopped. Besides the ragged, relieved breathing of his squadmates, Jag could hear distant blaster fire, and saw glimpses of white and gold between the few droids left standing. Between the two companies, the droids were eradicated.

    As soon as the last droid was confirmed as down, he looked for Cross. The medic was standing with River, who had been hit in the shoulder. A minor burn, and Cross was applying some bacta to help the wound heal. Captain Scythe, approached, saluted the commander, and nodded to Vyre. "We got the last of them, ma'am. You probably could have held out, but we never say no to a little exercise" commander Starsong smiled and thanked Scythe, then frowned at her commlink. General Obi-Wan Kenobi's voice emerged, declaring the defeat of the droid forces, and San Hills' surrender. The battle of Muunilinst was over.
     
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  11. TheShadedOne

    TheShadedOne The Angry One

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    I like it...alot. keep up the good work, Madrar!:D
     
  12. Drahkma

    Drahkma Dashing Imperial Officer.

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    Another excellent chapter, man. Keep 'em up.
     

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