Gates scooped off his bucket and gloves, relishing the free feeling from the all-encompassing Katarn suit that had literally held him together through the campaigns. He'd taken tank rounds, concussion blasts, blasts from rifles, pistols, knives, fists...the list was endless. He held the battered and tarnished helmet fondly.

One of the off-duty Stormtroopers was tapping him on the shoulder, holding up a glass of beer to the Blackjack officer.

"Thanks," Gates said, accepting the mug. The man had the shaved head and intense look of a professional soldier, like all of the men in the squad. "You Echo or Delta?"

The Stormtrooper grinned, and pointed at the bloody 'E' on his left shoulder plate. "Echo, sir. Private Johnson. Sniper."

"Me too," the ASL replied, gulping down half the drink. "Smoke?"

"Please," the other replied, and accepted the cigarrette from the Blackjack soldier, followed by it being lit. "Thanks, uh, Sergeant."

"Garryll Gates," replied the taller man, extending his hand, after sticking the cigarette in his mouth. The two snipers shook hands, both wielding long, thin fingers and a glint in the eye that was to used to finding heads to blow apart.

"So, tell me about your campaign," the Echo Stormtrooper said, seating himself in one of the other tables, away from the card-playing Blackjacks, Echoes, and Deltas.

"Nothin' much to say. Blew some shit up, dug through some more shit, and finally, came back to blowing shit up to capture the commander of this damn building."

"Got to play hero against those commandos, or so I hear," replied the Echo sniper, fingering the burning stick in his mouth. The light played across the room from the large window on far side, and someone flicked on the internal lighting. The room was again lit by a cheery fluorescent bulb.

"How about you, mate?" asked Gates to the other, draining his glass. He shook his head to a refill. He was a smoker and a pyro and a some-time psycho, but he drank in moderation.

"Well, Rogers and a bunch of the mates bought it," muttered Johnson unhappily. "Rogers was our ASL - not at all like you, sir. Good leader, but straight as an arrow. Calculating bastard- brilliant but sort of y'know, weird."

"I sort of don't know, private," laughed Gates. "One of my squad leaders went half-way nuts when he got drunk. One wields a hammer most normal sized men. One was a giant flippin' lizard. One was-"

Johnson was laughing uncontrollably at Gates' descriptions. "But they're true!" protested the Blackjack, waving wildly, knocking his rifle over from where it had leaned against the table.

A couple more men walked into the gathering room, a few walked out. The guard had changed, and some other Echoes and Deltas had heard that there was a party up here.

Two men, grumbling and pointing, walked in. One was a huge man, hair cut brutally short, nose short and broken-looking, scowling and hard-faced, the other, a shorter, slighter man with longer hair and a much more relaxed face.

"That's the boss," Johnson pointed to the huge man, "Sergeant Velen Borsha. Hard-ass and survived the civil war. Delta's boss is talking to him- he's a good shot, err, Selka, I think his name is? Hey, Mical! What's your boss's name?"

A nervous young man, maybe 21 at most, was typing rapidly into his datapad. "Ehh, boss? His name's Selka, Selka Kire."

"Thanks, mate," Johnson said, letting the slicer-soldier get back to whatever he was doing. Gates rose. The Echo soldier looked up. "What's up, sergeant?"

"Got to talk to them about ammo," Gates said, showing the private his ammo belt. "Totally empty. Commandos take a lot of bullets to die."

Johnson nodded absently and turned his attention to his long-barreled E-11 sniper variant. Gates walked over to the three squad leaders, who were sharing a drink and their complaints about their particular duty station.

"A goddamn hostile planet, unsecured, and they want us to hold a twenty-floor building with that many men. They must be insane," rumbled Velen angrily, face contorted in a seemingly usual scowl.

"Where's the ammo?" inserted Gates in a lull in the conversation. Tanus turned and introduced his assistant to the pair of normal Stormtroopers.

"You can't be serious," murmured Selka. "Blackjack can restock ammo tommorow. Tonight, the battle's over."

"Sir, the battle is never over - and it's always nice to have some rounds left in your rifle," replied Gates, showing the Delta Squad Leader his bone-dry clip and the couple stray slugs sliding around in a belt pouch.

The Delta looked put-back, but Tanus and Velen grinned. "This boy likes fightin' then, does he, Tanus?" asked the huge man. Tanus nodded, and Garryll grinned.

"It's what I do best, Borsha," replied Gates.

After a few long hours of partying, drinking and playing cards, the Stormtroopers stumbled off to a designated sleeping area - the barracks level in the HQ. A few men were ordered to stand guard (some of the most sober and least sleepy).

In the barracks, men slept like the dead, victors ready for the morning hangovers and headaches. Outside, the guards glumly patrolled around the perimeter, eyes alert for movement in the still, polluted Eriduan air.

Eight hours later, Stormtroopers began to wake up with various levels of swearing and headaches depending on how much they'd drunk last night. Gates, having largely abstained, changed quickly into duty fatigues and lit a cigarette.

Men stumbled off to the showers to douse themselves in cold water and try to wake themselves up. The guard returned, looking tired and unhappy, having been rained on in the dead of night.

Once all the men had recovered from their hangovers, they moved down to the mess hall. Several of the slicers managed to get some of the food processors working, and the troops started eating. Tanus started giving his brief.

"As you all know, this is Eriadu," he began, "and Command has ordered us to hold this Headquarters building. We don't have that many men, but they have promised us backup within a week. Pessimistically, within three weeks."

Grumbling came from the troops, but it was quickly silenced. Tanus continued. "We'll break the day into 4 6-hour shifts, one five-man team per shift. Half the day you will have to yourself, six hours you'll stand guard, six hours you'll be on-station, preparing traps, weapons, backup, etcetera."

The SLs moved and designated fireteams for the mission, mixing men from all three squads and proficiencies to fill gaps and give each fireteam a good mix of skills.

"Who's leading the last team, if the squad leaders are taking three of the teams?" asked one of the troopers to his Squad leader when he walked by.

"I dunno, guess Gates and Vorpe will have to work it out," Velen, the squad leader in question, replied.

Gates went over to the other surviving ASL. "You want to lead the team?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Sure. Want to flip for it? Best of one," Gates said, producing a coin.

Vorpe shrugged and grinned, and waved Mical over. "Mical, flip this coin. If it's heads, I get to lead the last team, if it's tails, our good friend Gates here will."

Mical grinned and flipped the coin high into the air; the burnished bronze slowly turned as it went up, and then rapidly fell into the ground. It landed neatly on its face, tails showing up.

"Tails never fails," Gates chuckled, picking up the coin. "Guess I'm leading the last team."

Vorpe didn't look upset at all, laughing a patting the other on the back. "Yeah, you outrank me anyway."

Mercifully, the subdued multicolors of Eriadu's polluted sky was bizarrely soothing, easing Tank's hangover.  I'm never drinking Bothan Ale ever again...  Sifting through the medical supplies Tank found the hangover-eliminater pills.  Taking one for himself and passing it around, he washed his down with the choco-caf he liberated from the mess hall.

Returning to the mess for an actual meal was a lesson in disappointment.  Most of the Corellian foodstuffs had been taken by the coward Alfonso's entourage and ilk prior to the final battle.  Much of what was left was summarily scarffed down by Garryll, Wrex, and the other heavy weapons and sharpshooters.  That left Bothan, Gand, Sullustan, Wookie and stranger stuff.  Some of it was both unidentifiable and unreadable.  Tank was willing to have a Wookie dish or two, but not for breakfast.  Sullustan was out of the question; he dare not think about how his stomach would react...  Finally the stormtrooper settled on a Bothan dish that looked promising and sat with some of the slicers to eat it.

He actually liked the dish, to his surprise.  Between mouthfuls he made small talk, getting to know the troopers who shared the BlackJacks' misfortune of being marooned on Eriadu; so much for their extraction.  Private Uthor Lor was a ComTech (Communications Technician) and Private First Class Mical Adrenas was a Combat Medic.  Slicing was Mical's secondary interest, so he was a natural fit for Delta Squad.

After breakfast there was a brief memorial service for the squadmates lost.
Sergeant Valen Borsha named the fallen.
"Sergeant Goran Rogers, ASL Echo.
Corporal Dak Messer, Echo Medic.
Private Inzist Muusen, Delta ComTech.
Private Tiberium Kirk, Echo Pistolier.
Private Gus Nixon, Echo Grenadier."

Then Tanus gave orders for the day, splitting the troopers into fire teams.  One team searching for LCPL Regis, MIA....

OOC:

Thank you, Hunter-Morrell!

A sort of hush had fallen over the facility. Tanus' group had found the mangled body of the then-MIA Delta lance Regis, and made his announcement: SpecForce commandos had, in all likelihood, escaped Blackjack's purge of the facility and were now hell-bent on revenge.

The Stormtroopers dug in. Traps were set with greater frequency in tighter and tighter rings around the facility, eventually making it unsafe for a soldier unskilled in spotting explosives or pit traps to venture more than thirty feet out of the facility. Making the facility itself a fortress was a nightmare. There were dozens, if not hundreds of windows, doors and rooms. Eventually, they decided to cut off unimportant areas like several faculty levels where nothing but cubicle work had been done.

Support weapons were strategically positioned to create kill-zones around the main entrances to the facility; the front doors, the sewers, and the service entrance. Rapid-response drills were randomly held to practice team cohesion. Weapons and armor were stocked in convenient areas, as was ammunition and medical supplies.

Time dragged on. After a week, nothing had happened - no Republic attack, no Imperial supply ships. Stormtroopers still stepped-to with ease and determination due to the half-day cycle that gave them plenty of time to sleep and rest. There was still grumblings about support.

"Didn't Angel say we were getting backup within the week?" murmured Gates to his SL over a bowl of soup.

Tanus grunted back an affirmative. "Optimistically it was a week. Pessimistically, three."

"Three days of Defcon One? I can handle it, you can handle it, but can everyone?" asked Gates, finishing his bowl and dumping it into the cleaner.

"We'll just have to see."

D-Day + 14 rolled around. No support had arrived, but the sentries of Velen's fireteam had heard explosions in the woods, along with a thin, high sound. They guessed screaming.

"The New Republic is most definitely out there," Velen said in a hurriedly-called meeting. “And they’ve set off some of our traps, whether by accident or on purpose we don’t know.”

“Well, I don’t think we should go out there and hunt them,” Tanus replied. “We’ll be getting new troops and supplies any day now. We can press the advantage then.”

The Stormtroopers went back to twiddling their thumbs, hearing an occasional explosion from the forest and the rare scream. Supplies dwindled, boredom reigned.

“No action for two and a half weeks,” muttered an Echo soldier in the mess line. “Food’s getting worse. This sucks.”

Another meeting was called. “So we haven’t had any aggression since we found Regis,” Tanus started. “But, we’re running out of supplies. And I’d like to have enough food and medical supplies to last us through a siege.”

“There’s a truck out back of the service entrance,” Selka said. “Someone want to go out and get the groceries?”

Gates raised his hand. “I’ll take a fireteam out and go get some food and stuff.”

“Take the medic with you,” Velen added. “He’ll be able to identify some medical supplies we’ll need.”

Gates nodded and left the conference room, picking up several of the Echo and Delta troopers as he did. They trooped out to the rear of the NRHQ, where a large delivery van was parked. The troopers climbed in, one of the Delta soldiers eagerly grabbing the steering wheel.

“Drive,” Gates ordered. “Warehouse district. Hopefully, we can find some supplies there. Everyone loaded?”

“Yessir,” replied one of the men riding in the back. The driver nodded, the others replied with a variety of affirmatives.

The van went left quickly out of the facility, looping around the main drag and joined traffic nondescriptly. “Good. It’d look pretty obvious if we just came right from the HQ,” Gates muttered.

The van picked its way through the city’s main residential areas, crawling through vehicle-congested lanes. “No wonder this planet is so polluted,” said one of the Deltas, “The entire city is industrialized or a car.”

“Turn here,” Gates ordered, pointing. One way led to the industrial centers that Eriadu was famous for, and their way led to the warehouse sector where many different supplies were kept. The van drove down a much less crowded area, with only a rare car going down into the warehouse sector.

“Here, stop. Everyone out, check the building,” Gates said, opening the passenger’s door and clambering out of the van. They’d gone without armor to be less obvious, but Gates just felt naked without the quarter-ton’s worth of steel and bullet-proof mesh.

The fireteam patted concealed firearms and broke their way into a caved in warehouse. The medic opened up crates and began to pull items out. “Excellent, bandages, a couple containers of bacta, painkillers, first aid kits. Get it all.”

The Stormtroopers moved quickly, grabbing crates and stuffing them into the van. “Isn’t this, y’know, stealing?” asked West as he bent his knees and grabbed a cylinder of bacta.

“It’s only stealing if someone owns it. No one’s claimed it except us,” replied the medic, checking off things on his datapad.

They half-filled the van with the medical supplies and then drove quickly off to find food. They had to inspect several more, and didn’t get lucky until they found a military warehouse. “Excellent, dried rations.”

One of the men made an unhappy sound. “They’re only edible…”

“I know, but at least they get some calories. Let’s go,” Gates replied. They piled out of the van and dug through piles of New Republic gear, from body armor to flags, until they finally found the rations they were looking for. They loaded the van up with the packages.

“Get us back to base. Radio in.”

“Yessir.” The driver reached for the ignition when laser fire splashed against the sides of the vehicle.

“Shit!” Gates yelled, rolling down the window and firing his pistol at the muzzle bursts. “Get us outta here!”

“Can do!” shouted the driver, stomping on the gas and shooting the van into a sharp u-turn and beelined directly back to the headquarters. Halfway there, they left the city, but pursuit caught up.

Three small speeders had men inside, and those men were shooting at the van. That is, two of the speeders were shooting.

“What’s with the spare?” yelled a trooper.

“Command and Control? I don’t care!” Gates yelled back, firing his pistol at the pursuit.

The van tore down an empty highway and screeched into the service lot in back of the HQ. The pursuers followed them until the Stormtroopers inside began shooting back. Two of the speeders pulled off, but the third, unarmed one kept coming.

“The hell-?” asked Gates.

The Republic speeder tore through a thin fence of wire and smashed into the building itself, before exploding. The area shook and shrapnel pelted the van, a scant fifty feet away. A gaping hole was blown in the service area.

“Suicide bombers? They can’t be serious,” muttered one of the men.

“It looks pretty serious to me,” Gates replied. “C’mon, let’s get these supplies unloaded.”

Duncan, Wilson, Mical and Wellis were all down in the armory grabbing extra ammo and ordnance. Now that they knew to expect some level of counter attack from the Commandos, they knew how to prepare themselves. From they had read on the files, the base consisted mostly of members from the 3rd and 6th regiments, which made them especially suited to urban combat and heavy weaponry. While this was good news, this also brought the painful realization that Blackjack, Echo and Delta were severely outnumbered and had limited amounts of ammo, food and medical supplies. Better make every shot count then, Duncan thought as he strapped a bandolier to his chest and looked over his E-11/M for kinks. As he looked over to the others while they were setting up their gear, Duncan started to have doubts. The men of Echo were all battle hardened men in one respect or another, but old soldiers like Duncan and Velen had seen more action than others and the three newbies in the room weren’t prepared for a siege like this. I just hope they know that there is more riding on this than just them. There is an entire operation at stake now.

Tanus strode into the armory, hammer in hand and bathed in his Katarn armor. His DT-57 lay at his left hip, while his M-82G hung from the strap at his right shoulder. Now there is a real soldier. He gives off the air of a veteran. He walked over to a crate and cracked it open, revealing the ammo clips inside.

“Jackpot,” he said as he reached inside and started strapping spare blaster and ammo clips to his bandolier and belt. He put his hand up to his ear and started on the squad channel to his ASL, Garryll Gates. Duncan, by that point had spaced out and was focusing back on his weapon. He cleaned the sight and the barrel and adjusted the stock while the others finished with their weapons. As he was finishing up, Tanus called him over. Duncan walked over, rifle in hand and rag in the other.

“What’s up boss?”

“Duncan, you’re going to be my eyes up there, do you understand me. I need you to relay me information on everything they start to throw at us. Also, I’, gonna need you to disrupt the frontline of soldiers they throw. Think you can do that?”

“Please. I could do that in my sleep. Twice.”

Tanus laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. Let’s hope we don’t need to put your sniper skills to use too badly.”

“I hear you on that sir.”



“Mical, Wilson, set some remote mines on the stairs. If we need to make a quick escape, I don’t want those buggers coming down after us.”

Both men nodded while Tanus strode around the top of the roof, looking out at the surrounding forest. It was a beautiful sight, but when Tanus realized what was waiting out there for them, his muscles tensed and his grip tightened on his hammer. At least with Duncan, they had a slight ranged advantage over the oncoming force of New Republic soldiers, but Tanus did not want to put the burden of taking down an entire SpecForce battalion on one sniper. No, he’s our eyes. We’re going to need him for the surprise we have waiting for these bastards. Tanus took time to notice the small generators, vents and pipes that were scattered on the roof; they’d make good cover if everything suddenly went to shit. He started to strap remote dets to all of the pipes and such for traps while Duncan got set up at the ledge with his rifle. Finally, Wellis was setting up the proton mortars.

The mortars had been a last minute decision when making the move up to the roof, and it was good they grabbed them. Tanus was so used to Garryll being next to him screaming and firing a chaingun that he realized he had no heavy ordnance. The three proton mortars they grabbed from the armory took care of that. Luckily, they had three full boxes of mortar rounds to use, and an assumed force of angry Commandos ready to be fired at. C’mon, you bastards. Come out and see what I have for you to fight against. The sun started to set and all was quiet, with the exception of crickets and other bugs flying around. Fireflies danced throughout the night sky while Tanus lay back and looked up to the stars. They sure are bright tonight. Wonder how long this is gonna last. Well Angel, here’s to your reinforcements.

“Sarge, we have movement coming in from the tree line.”

Tanus shot up and rolled over to where Duncan was. He set his helmet setting to macrobinocular and zoomed in on the oncoming horde. The commandos coming out did not seem all too far different from the ones that Tanus had faced earlier. But there was one glaring difference this time around: They had jetpacks. This’ll be fun. Tanus looked at Duncan.

“Duncan, don’t fire until I tell you too. Just watch what they’re doing and keep me updated.”

“Roger that sir.”

Tanus went back to where the others were waiting. They were up against the wall, rifles in hand and strapped to the teeth with ammo. At least they’re prepared. Tanus crouched down and looked at each of them in turn.

“Look alive boys. This is the big show, and we want to make it good. Just do what I tell you and you’ll live through this yet. Now get on the mortars and fire when I give the signal.”

Tanus flipped the M-82G into his arms and loaded a grenade in the bottom mounted launcher and crouched next to Duncan, who didn’t even seem to be breathing as he waited for his shot. Tanus brought up the binoculars again and gave the line one more look over.

“Anything new?”

“Not really. They added some more troops to their number, and from what I can tell, I think a couple of tanks. But that’s all I can see. I don’t know if their flanking us or anything like that.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Garryll, Selka and Velen can take care of that. Just focus on what you have in front of you.”

“You got it sir.”

Tanus scanned the battle line one more time for coordinates and locked them into the binoculars. He started relaying the signals back to the mortar team, who were now working on the targeting computers and getting the mortars fired up. He then looked back to Duncan.

“It’s your show. One shot, one kill.”

Duncan pumped off a single shot, masterfully dropping a trooper with a fresh hole in his head. Then the line erupted into chaos. Troopers started to move every which way, and some even moved back into the forest. Then three juggernauts lumbered out of the woods. Bloody figures they have tanks. Tanus turned his head back to the others and nodded. A second later, three mortar rounds lit up the sky, then smashed into the forest line, sending up waves of dirt and debris as the enemy ran for cover. Tanus then locked in new coordinates and gave them to the mortar squad.

“Go for the tanks! If they get within cannon range, we’re done!”

As the three remaining troopers started to fire on the tanks, SpecForce commandos took to the skies. Tanus raised his rifle and picked out his first target. C’mon, closer you son of a bitch… Then he got within range, and Tanus depressed the trigger once. The bullet sailed out and struck the man in the chest, where he hung dead in the air for a few seconds until his jetpack failed and his body plummeted back to earth. And then the commandos got closer, and a sort of buzzing filled the air, as if a swarm of insects was on its way. Tanus just grimaced and picked out his next target. Who’s the next dead man?

Johnson fired his blaster at the commandos, causing one to pull his head back behind cover. They had stopped at the end of the hallway when Johnson had opened fire. He had shot one in the leg, but the rest had escaped unscathed and according to his motion tracker, several more had joined the fight.

West was beside Johnson, covering him from behind the pile of trash while Johnson reloaded. He had arrived not long after Johnson had first engaged the commandos, straining a little to breathe, but able to instantly join in the defense.

Johnson radioed to Selka during a slight lull in the gunfire.

"Sir, we have positive identification on the enemy. Commandos. And by the looks of things on tracker, there's about twelve of them down here."

The line was silent for a while before he got a reply.

"Fall back. Let 'em find the presents we left for them."

Johnson gave a quick "roger" and rolled over, ducking back behind the cover of the trash pile.

"West! We gotta fall back to the checkpoint!" The trooper gave no acknowledgment of Johnson, continuing to fire on the now advancing commandos.

"WEST!" Johnson yelled, smacking the trooper in the back of the head. He was sick of being ignored and wanted to get the hell out of there.

West turned to look at him, not moving from his spot. As he did, a stray bolt from the commandos struck him in the head. Several more bolts followed, eating into the armor and flesh. West died instantly.

Horrified, Johnson ran for the ladder passage, firing blindly backwards as he ran. Several bolts clipped the walls near him and one even hit his left arm. Now running on completely on the instinctual 'flight' response, he didn't feel the hit at all. All he wanted was to get out of there.

----------

Wrex heard several booms coming from up above, accented by the fall of dust from the ceilings. The smell of the sewers was gone now, replaced by his slight anxiety for the battle that was to come.

Five of us? Against twelve commandos? Even with the traps, this isn't close to favorable odds.

Wrex swallowed slowly, his gun gripped tightly in hand. His thoughts were interrupted by Selka, who was helping Kint move piles of waste and trash into makeshift barriers around the ladder.

"Wrex, get over here. We need to get this set up now. Johnson's coming back with West. We're making our stand here while the commandos pick their way through the traps we left."

Wrex nodded, then proceeded to gather small piles of the stuff into a circle about 5 meters across. He was just adding to the top when Johnson came stumbling down the hallway. All three troopers instinctively drew their weapons, then put them down when they identified who it was.

"Johnson. Where's West?" Selka asked. Another boom shook more dust from the ceiling while Johnson just stood there and shook his head.

"They shot him. I told him we had to go and they... killed him." Johnson's voice sounded choked up, as if at any moment he was going to break down. Selka's voice broke firm through the silence that followed.

"He did his duty. If we lose the headquarters he'll have died for nothing. Don't let him die in vain Johnson." He put a hand on Johnson's shoulder. "Now, we need to finish these barriers or they'll make short work of us."

Johnson nodded. Selka, seemingly satisfied, bent back down to push up another pile of garbage when Johnson's motion tracker beeped. Johnson looked down, Wrex and Kint peering over his shoulder.

Johnson's voice was slightly shaky as he spoke to the other troopers.

"They tripped one of the mines. They're close."

Wrex could tell they were outnumbered, even if he couldn't see them. Johnson's motion tracker had picked up twelve of the commandos and the few mines they had set either were disarmed or had little effect. Only one of them had been hurt and he was still moving, albeit very slowly.

Looking back up over the pile of trash and sludge, he fired blindly toward the opening the commandos were trying to come through. The combined fire of five troopers kept them at bay, but Wrex knew they had little time before they discovered the other passages around behind them and then it was all over.

Here's to hoping they're idiots.

A couple stray bolts burned themselves into the garbage, causing bits and pieces to fly onto the stormtroopers armor. Selka, unfazed by the gunfire, retaliated with a swift report from his blaster. One of the commandos fell as he was struck in the abdomen by one of the bolts.

"They're not so tough after all." Selka said. Johnson and Kint said nothing, continuing to fire upon the commandos. Wrex, however, decided to lighten the mood.

"Hell, I could take 'em without my gun. The New Republic must be recruiting from nurseries now." He fired and watched as another of the commandos fell behind cover as he was struck in the leg. "Can't even take a bullet like a man."

Johnson and Kint, relieved by Wrex's optimism, began to join in heckling the commandos as they continued to fire.

"I wonder if they'd still join the army if they knew they were going to meet me!" Johnson said.

Kint chuckled. "They're lucky you haven't taken your helmet off yet. They'd sure be scared then!"

Wrex felt a sight feeling of optimism in his stomach at the soldiers banter. Firing at a bold commando, Wrex began to think that they could win this fight.

We just need a little help. He thought, reaching down towards his waistband. There he found help, in the form of a small, metallic object.

"Get down!" He yelled as he tossed the thermal detonator up the passage. The other troopers ducked behind the pile, bracing themselves for the imminent explosion.

The commandos didn't immediately react to the grenade. Their fire faltered as they tried to see why the Imperials were hiding, then Wrex heard one of them yell.

"GRENADE!"

A second later, it detonated. Wrex could imagine the bodies flying around the small area, striking the walls and ceiling with great force.

As pieces of debris fell over them, Johnson checked his motion tracker.

"At least eight of them injured or dead. I'm still picking up four moving signals, heading away from us."

Selka didn't give any of the troopers time to think.

"After them!"

New Republic SpecForce Commandoes and local rabble-rousers had the pentagonal fortress surrounded, but what the Imperial Stormtroopers lacked in numbers they made up for with determination.  That, plus blood and brutality.  Between disconnecting exterior door controls and internally blockading all secondary entrances, forced the attackers to try taking the main entrance.

As per Sergeant Valen Borsha's plan, the semi-barrackaded main lobby was a fortified crow's nest.  The troopers had a good view of the starport, and the area in front of the main entrance was a killing field.  As the base's armory was well stocked the stormies were not wanting for blaster packs or grenades.  The few reinforcements that had but barely gotten through alive were welcome additions.  Tanus wasted no time redistributing them amongst the fire teams to maximize not just effiency, but survivablity.  For survival was key; too many lives were lost taking the New Republic headquarters and more had already been lost holding it.  Even now some troopers' lives hung precaiously close to death, the few medics on hand struggling to keep them alive.

Thank the Force for all these Bacta canisters was Tank's silent prayer as he passed more ammunition to Private Uthor Lor of Delta Squad.  For a slicer he was a decent shot and getting better as the enemies' numbers whithered under constant fire.  Tank resumed fire with the Stouker as Sergeant Durandal of BlackJack mixed it up by lobbing frags in whatever direction the enemy scattered to from the Stouker.

If we keep this up long enough, they'll have to pull assets from the flanks to regroup Tank rationalized.  Then it's another frontal assault.  Unless they have something else up their sleeves....  Privates Semaj and Thommi were welcome additions to the Fire Team, increasing the overall suppression fire while providing a broader arc in which to mow down SpecForce Commandoes.  Tank figured the ammo would be more than enough to last until it came to close combat again.  And when it does his blades will taste blood again...

“What the hell do you mean they broke through!?” Tanus yelled into his comlink.

There was a pause, followed by swearing and rifle fire; things weren’t looking good for the Stormtroopers.

“I dunno boss. They got a battering ram from… somewhere. We’re moving back in to see what we can do from there.”

“All right, fine. Just be careful damn it.”

“Will do. Gates out.”

Tanus ducked his head back out from his hiding place to see more Republic air troopers coming in. The one time I’m not wearing a damn jetpack. He slammed a fresh clip into his rifle and loaded another grenade as two troopers made a pass. Tanus shot up, firing on them as they made their strafing run, and heard them yell as they dropped to the ground stories below. Duncan had fallen back to the doorway, covering the others as they loaded mortars with reckless abandon. By this time the forward ledge was shattered from tank fire and smoke was billowing up from the forest where the mortars had made their mark. For the first few minutes of the battle, Tanus and his men had some level of surprise, but soon it was lost. The tanks ripped the building apart, and it was only by sheer luck that none of them were dead. Somehow though, the Republic wasn’t throwing their full strength at them; Tanus knew they had more waiting. They’re just toying with us. Hmph, bastard’s think they’ve won. Tanus arced his rifle upwards and fired the grenade, watching it arc out and slam into the tree line and causing one of the larger ones to tumble down.

Of course, not all of the Republic troopers were content with simply flying around like gnats and being general pests. Some of them had the gumption to join the fight up close – which Tanus was absolutely content with giving them a show. Those that had managed to survive the mortar barrage and grapple up to the Stormtrooper staging area were met with a bad case of hammer to the skull. But it was not to last; they were running low on mortar shells and it was now only a matter of time before they were over run. Mical shouted from the back:

“Sir, we’re down to three mortars a piece! What do we do!?”

Tanus picked off three more troopers before glancing over his soldier at the rookie.

“Pray.”

Tanus reached back for another grenade – then noticed he had none left. Well, this is fun. He got up and looked at the four remaining troopers, who frantically aiming at anything that came too close. Tanus pulled out his pistol and fired at three jet troopers that decided landing was a good idea.

“Everyone, get inside! Get ready to blow the stairs!”

As the others picked up the mortar launchers, the jet troopers descended. Tanus turned as Wilson got inside and opened fire, spraying fire into the air, hitting everyone that got in his kill zone.

“C’mon you bastards! Gimme a song!”

Then, for some reason, Tanus heard a low hum off to his left. Then it grew louder, and louder; it sounded like the rumble of engines. Oh hell. Not more air cav. Then Tanus got one glimpse at the side of the vessel. Those are gunships. Imperial Gunships. Oh, thank you Angel. The two gunships came sailing in at full speed, sending up a wall of green anti-personnel fire at the incoming wave of Republic soldiers. They were ripped asunder by the blasts, while the others tried desperately to scatter. One of the ships swung around to the side and hovered there as the doors opened and troopers spilled out, rappel lines out and jumping down into the building; the distinct white armor gave them away. The second gunship pulled up alongside the remaining ledge of the building and the doors slid open, revealing four troopers carrying DLT-20As. Then the bloodbath began. The four troopers opened fire, providing a solid wall of suppressive fire as the other 20 odd troopers disembarked. When they did, their commanding officer came up them, a sergeant by the pauldron on his right shoulder.

“Sir, my name is Tavron Stokes. Company Commander Angel sent us as back up.”

“Thank the Maker. Best get to it then sergeant. Got anything else for us to play with?”

“Oh aye. Be sure to thank the 289th Armored when you get back to Tadath.”

“Heh. Will do. Now let’s take care of them and the tanks.”

“I got it covered sir. Gunship Shardstorm, target the heavy bogies. Missiles away!”

The gunship swung away, completely voided of its armored and armed cargo. It sunk down three stories, and then Tanus saw the most beautiful light show he had ever seen. A storm of fire and shrapnel cascaded on the battlefield, sending plumes of black smoke into the air. The remaining jet troopers were being hassled by the Stormies from the gunship. Finally, they were all away back to the forest. The worst of the storm was over. The new stormies turned around started talking, while the sergeant came up to Tanus.

“Sir, Company Commander Angel sent two gunships worth of men from the 289th Armored Infantry regiment. We have two tanks coming our way, a pair of TX-130s. My men will take care of that. We were told that you are the reigning officer here, for lack of a better word. That said, we are your to command.”

Tanus nodded and looked out towards the setting sun. It was time for a counter attack.

“Aye, sergeant. Get your gear and your men. Follow me downstairs to the meeting area. We’ll chat there with everyone present. On your way downstairs, though, have two of your men disable the chargers on the stairs.”

“Charges sir?”

“Aye. Just in case we needed to beat a hasty retreat.”

Tanus turned around and went back downstairs, flanked by the four he started with, and followed by 30 more. It was time to end this. And soon.

--- --- --- --- ---

The others got to the meeting area in a flurry of men and armor; Some were being carried in, while others were simply dragged. But somehow everyone had made it. Except Wrex and the others. Where the hell is he? It’s not like him to be late. When the others got there and settled, Tanus began.

“Well men, looks like we got a reprieve for the nonce. These men are with the 289th Armored and they are here to help. That said, the New Republic troops have fallen back to the forest. And now I want them gone for good. We’re taking the fight to them. And we’re going to hit them hard. Does anybody have any questions?”

Garryll raised his hand.

“Yeah. Where the hell is Wrex?”

Just as he said that, alarms went off. Tanus looked up and saw the klaxons spinning and then his comm went off. It was Wrex.

“Boss, we have a problem down here!”

Then the line fizzled out in the cold buzz of static. Tanus ran across the room, grabbing his helmet and hammer as he did.

“Buckets on boys! We’ve got a few boys I want back here! Let’s move!”

Tank cursed the New Rupublic and every sentient in the SpecForce Commandoes in particular.  Wilson was killed in the latest assault, one of the many grenades landed right on the poor bastard.  Tank and Uthor managed to recover some of the other troopers as they fell back to regroup, as did Sergeant Valen Borsha and Sergeant Durandal. 

But forcing the Stormtroopers into the narrow corridors wasn't as advantageous to the SpecForce Commandoes as they had anticipated.  Borsha had barked orders loud and clear over the buckets' comlinks, imposing order on the chaos.  When the Commandoes reached the corridors they found them empty, a few blood trails on the floor leading to a couple of rooms further into the complex.  As the reached the doors to the nearest rooms blaster bolts rang out, eradicating many Commandoes in an instant; the fellows next in line tried to fall back but few succeeded.  Those trying to regroup got a grenade for their trouble, buying a few more precious moments for the Stormtroopers  to prepare.

When the next wave came they were in only slightly greater numbers than the first.  Spliting into teams before diving into the different rooms they came in firing.  They missed, the Stormtroopers in crouchiong or prone positions, returned fire decisively as red and green bolts pockmarked the walls over their heads.  More rushed in to force the Stormtroopers to close combat, and those that could stood, firing till the blasters ran dry.  Tank switched to his blades to carve deeply into a Rodian Commando as Uthor slammed fresh packs into his rifle and resumed firing.

The din of battle also hid the sounds of Imperial Gunships, muted as they were by the base's walls.  The reinforcements accompanying Tanus fell upon the SpecForce Commandoes' rearguard, taking them by surprise and with litle mercy.  In moments it was over.  The surviving SpecForce Commandoes would by interrogated by Stormtroopers, until the spooks came for them...  Tanus was enjoying himself; making them pay for the lives lost but leaving them intact for the Ubiqtorite to tear apart as many times as needed.

"Flammin' Cannocks!" Gates exclaimed as rockets streaked from the woods to pummel the side of the base, but failed to breach.  Gates cursed until Tanus and Borsha took charge, issuing orders as they donned their buckets once more.  Half the Stormtroopers would remain in the base as the others head out to quash the resistance once and for all...

The noise outside was that of pure chaos; Tanus could barely hear himself think over the sound of missiles flying, lasers firing and the dying men of the New Republic screaming and shouting on the ground. Tanus hooked his line up to the roof of the gunship and looked out behind him. The ground was saturated in the bodies of New Republic commandos that had not been fast enough to get out of the way of the oncoming onslaught of Stormtroopers. Wrex and Tank were in the opened door, providing support fire with both Stouker and M82-G; Garryll was on the ground already slamming into the New Republic with his Tyrant at his side. Now it’s my turn. Tanus looked back and jumped, hammer in hand. As soon as he landed, he cut the line and swung his hammer around, slamming a New Republic soldier square in the face. So it isn’t just commandos here; they have a mix. Good to know. Tanus drew his sidearm and started to fire over Garryll’s shoulder, picking off targets coming in from the flanks and sides. Garryll looked up at him.

“Hey now. Pick your own targets.”

“I am. I’m picking the targets you’re not hitting.”

“I hate you.”

“Get in line.”

Tanus rolled as a blaster bolt flew past his head and hit a tree behind him. Up above, the gunship had released most of the soldiers it was carrying, with Wrex and Tank on the way down. The composite beam cannons on the side were doing a fantastic job of keeping the enemy at bay, but Tanus knew that it would never be enough. We need to get inside somehow. Tanus pointed Garryll over to a large rocked out cropping near the edge of the forest.

“Garrll, set up shop there, I’ll have Wrex and Tank support you with the Stoukers. Cover the others as they come in with the tanks. Make sure they don’t set up any heavy artillery.”

“You got it boss.”

Garryll got up and ran for the rocks, his shields taking hits as he did so. He got behind just in time a blaster bolt left a scorch mark on his helmet. Too close. Tanus flinched as a blaster bolt hit his shoulder, but luckily his shields took the hit. When he looked up, a line of New Republic soldiers and commandos were staring at him, weapons raised and ready.

“Fine. If you want an early grave, so be it.”

Then Tanus charged, firing his blaster as he did so. The first two men in line fell as their bodies were pelted by the heavy fire of the DT-57; others simply ran. But the ones who stayed were the ones Tanus wanted to fight, and the ones who stayed were all commandos. He holstered his pistol and spun in, heaving his hammer at full force at the closest commando to him. He dodged and rolled backwards, drawing a knife from his back; soon all the others had done the same. Tanus just shrugged; now it was just going to be more fun. One of them came in from his right with a quick stab and then a slash, while another came in with an overhead strike. At least they’re trying to distract me. I can’t stand the rank and file for being so… forward. He dodged the first blow and parried the second, just in time to move around a third attacker behind him that came in with a slash. Tanus rolled back and got up, dusting himself off.

“I’m sorry boys, but if you want me dead, you’re going to have to try harder.”

One of them charged, swinging in curious zigzag patterns and never once repeated an attack. The others weren’t far behind, and alternated attacks. They came in from all directions: High, low, sides, crosses and slashes. The only thing that was keeping Tanus alive was his armor, which was now cut up and battle scarred. He managed to break the attack by parrying one of the strikes and kicking one of the attackers away hard while the others fumbled for a new tactic. Then Tanus weaved his counter attack. He came in with a thrust to the one on his left, which sent him jumping back and clear of the spike. Tanus spun the hammer over his head and stepped in, swinging at his counterpart, hitting him in the side and breaking ribs. He screamed and stumbled off, using a rock to balance himself and prevent himself from falling. But the strain was too great and he fell down to one knee. Tanus ran over, his hammer raised in his hands for a two handed smash. The man tried feebly to put his knife in defense, but the hammer crashed right through it – and his arm. Tanus then finished with a swing at the man’s head crushing it against the rock in a storm of blood, brain and bone.

By the time Tanus turned, the other two were ready to go, and presumably at the sight of seeing their comrade smashed to tiny bits, in a right state of rage – which was absolutely perfect. They charged at him, knives at the ready, but Tanus swung when they got in range. Unfortunately he overextended Damn it. The opening was there, and the commandos took advantage by disarming him. Then came the rain of blows. Tanus dodged all he could, but every now and then a strike got through and nicked his armor or cut through the underweave and into his flesh. Somehow Tanus managed to drive them off – at this point he wasn’t even sure how. He drew his own knife, the M32, and waited for the inevitable incoming strike. But it never happened. Then the smoke bomb went off. Tanus struggled to see through the haze, and turned his thermal vision and looked around for the commandos. When he found them… Wait, there’s only one. Where’s the other one? Then he heard some shuffling up above him. He looked up to see the shape of a commando in the setting sun, staring down at him. Bugger all, this will NOT end well. He jumped down, knife pointed straight at Tanus’ face. He managed to roll out of the way just in time as the commando’s knife plunged into the ground. Then Tanus shot toward him like a living bullet and wrapped his arm around the man’s face and head, and wrenched his arm to the right, hearing a sickening pop as he did so. He then smashed the dead man’s face into the forest floor for good measure.

When the smoke cleared, the sole commando got the sight of Tanus standing over his dead comrade. Tanus simply looked up at him and cocked his head.

“You’re certainly wasting a lot of time on me aren’t you? Maybe you should get back to the main battle. I’m sure it’s more interesting.”

The man charged him instead and extended out his knife for a strike. Tanus got at the ready and parried the strike and gave a hard chop to the shoulder, disarming the man and severely damaging his shoulder. With his own blade, Tanus started to carve the man’s arm up, from wrist to shoulder. Then came the coup de grace. Tanus tripped the man with a sweep, and when he landed, the last thing he saw was a knife plunging into his heart. Tanus got up and sheathed the knife and grabbed his hammer. It was time to get back to the real battle.

When he did, not much had changed. The gunships by this time had departed and had been supplemented by the addition of the tanks. Garryll and the others had done a good job of covering the others. Tanus slung his hammer over his back and swung his M82-G to bear, loaded a grenade and fired at the nearest nest of soldiers. He ran back to the tanks and his squad, firing as he did so. When he got back there, all of the squad leaders were there, firing on anything that moved. The sergeant of the 289th was busy calling out commands when Tanus got back there. Tanus grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him an order.

“Get the tanks to advance with a line of support. That could push the remainder forces to come on out and we could end this thing before the moon rises.”

The sergeant nodded and started yelling commands into his comlink. Within seconds the tanks were advancing with a line of soldiers and combat engineers, lobbing grenades and putting up a wall of laser fire. But then Tanus saw something he did not expect: The doors to the base closed. This meant that not only had they cut off the Stormtroopers from getting, but they also doomed the men outside to die. They really don’t want us in there. Tanus told the sergeant to order the tanks to stop firing; they did soon after. Everyone gathered around Tanus.

“All right. So they shut us out. Typically I’d be okay with that, but this leads to the problem of getting on now, and that door is triple thick durasteel, meaning the only thing that is getting through is the tanks. So here’s the plan. Anyone else that is NR around here I want dead; no prisoners. The tanks will blow the door with their missiles, and when that’s done Blackjack will make the first contact inside. Echo, Delta and the Combat Engineer squad of the 289th will be in next; the others will remain outside as a security screen just in case any other baddies show. Now let’s get started.”

The troopers went to their work with brutal efficiency. While blaster fire and screams permeated the air, the tanks moved up to the entrance. Tanus and the rest of Blackjack stood off to the side while the sergeant of the 289th took his place between the two tanks. He looked over to Tanus, who nodded.

“Tanks, missiles away!”

The sounds of blasters and death were soon trumped by that of the thunderous roar of metal being ripped apart. When all the missiles were spent and the smoke cleared, there was a gaping hole where the door had been that looked like it lead to an endless void. The men of Blackjack walked up, Tanus at its head. He flipped on his helmet light and started to walk forward. The others followed him and one by one their helmet lamps came to life as well. Nothing needed to be said for the men of Blackjack now: They knew what needed to be done as they walked into the endless dark.

"I hate it when that happens," Gates grumbled.

"When what happens, boss?" asked Wrex, blind-firing around the corner with his rifle.

"When they cheat," Gates said mock-childishly. "They goddamn cheated! You fight from one direction or another, not both at once."

"Grow up," Tanus replied. "Follow me. You men hold the fort here."

Gates and Tanus crept back up the stairs, ready to confront the flanking enemies. Gates managed to wedge his tall frame into an alcove, and Tanus found a dark shadowy area to hide in. The footfalls got louder, and a black glove appeared around the corner. Gates aimed his Tyrant.

A Stormtrooper helmet followed the glove.

"Shit," Gates muttered. "It's just the 289th."

Tanus stepped out of the shadows, and the trooper jumped before saluting. "Come on Gates, there's still the downstairs to handle."

They went back to the rest of Blackjack. "That was fast," quipped Wrex, adding his fire to Tank's and Kestrel's.

"False alarm. It was just the 289th," replied Gates, aiming the LMG down the hall and letting loose. The fire dwindled as New Republic soldiers dove for cover. Tanus fired a grenade, and it blew a couple men off of their feet. The 289th men crowded behind Tanus, and fired carefully down the hall. The fire further slackened at the unexpected barrage. New Republic men were draped over their cover having been to slow to dodge, but still resistance prevailed.

"They are going to fight to the last man," muttered Gates, tossing a grenade down the hall.

The explosion smashed a few more men around like ragdolls, and when the smoke cleared, there wasn't any more fire. Tanus motioned the squad to move up. Blackjack, toughened shields and armor capable of taking much more punishment than the simple white standard-issue suits, led the way.

Gates kicked a few bodies to make sure they're dead, and shot one who was reaching for a grenade. Once they'd cleared the room, they cautiously made their way into the next.

The glare from the fluorescent lights was blinding, and it didn’t help that the buzzing was starting to give Tanus a headache. He turned his head and shook it a little to get the buzz out of his skull and to concentrate, but to no avail. I swear if this bloody buzzing doesn’t stop soon, I may actually go insane. The hallway was long and winding, with several doors that lead to nowhere useful, or it seemed to lead nowhere at all. However, as a bonus they had no contact with the enemy for quite some time; this was both a good and bad thing. Gives us time to plan, but it does the same if we give them the chance. And now they can set up a suitable defense. Bugger all. Hopefully the 289th is moving along swimmingly. The end of the hall came with another crossroads, one off to the right and one to the left.

“Which way?” Wrex asked from the back.

“Well,” Tanus said, “I can only surmise that by going left we get further into the facility. Unless the NR decided to get creative with their construction, which I doubt, we should be in the center of this place about the same time as the 289th.”

Tanus cracked his neck and shook his head again then made his way down the left fork. Garryll covered the rear with the Tyrant while the others filled in the middle behind Tanus. Both Wrex and Tank had the Stoukers slung over their shoulders, in addition to bandoliers of ammo, while Kestrel, for whatever reason, decided it was a good idea to wear grenades as an armor substitute. Yup every one of them is crazy. Then Tanus remembered that out of all of them, he was the one carrying a giant hammer – so maybe the others were slightly more sane than him in retrospect.

The hallways seemed to get longer and longer, and as that happened, time seemed absent from the whole experience. It felt almost like a dream, except in this instance one could actually die from getting shot. When the group came to a large rotund room, they stopped and took a look around: all they saw were three doors at various angles around the room. Garryll stepped forward and clicked his tongue before looking at Tanus then back to the doors.

“Well, that certainly seems ominous enough. Where do you think they lead?”

“The hell if I know. Could lead to hell in back for I know, and it wouldn’t surprise me if they did.”

“Well then,” Garryll said as he cracked his knuckles and stretched out, “guess we’d better find out then. Which door do you want?”

“I dunno. It’s a tossup. They all look so appealing.”

“I’ll take the one off to the right. Figure if it all goes to shit, I have the Tyrant and can cover the area quickly. And it won’t be as if you won’t hear me shouting ‘Die you rat bastard die.’”

Tanus chuckled and nodded. He waved his fingers over and the others came up. He pointed to the door next to the one on the far left.

“Tank, Kestrel, you take that door. Wrex and I will take the one next to yours. Garryll’s got the one on the right covered. Worst case scenario is that we have a few more dead New Republic soldiers on our hands. Let’s get to work.”

Tanus walked up to the door and pressed his back against it and reached for a frag grenade and started to prime it. Wrex got up to the door panel and looked at Tanus. He nodded. Wrex hit the button and the door slid open.

“Frag out!” Tanus yelled and tossed it into the room.

Four seconds later, an explosion shook the room, then another explosion as the room next to them was blown by Kestrel and Tank. Finally, Tanus heard Garryll yelling and firing his Tyrant… but then he stopped. And so did the rest of the squad. Tanus listened hard for anything: Any movement, any breathing, any sound at all. But there was nothing. There was not a sound. What the hell is going on? Tanus rolled off the wall and into the room, weapon raised and ready to kill, but what he saw was less than exciting. It was an empty room, and from the looks of it an empty logistics room. Tanus surveyed the room before walking back out and looking to the others to see if they found anything. Garryll walked back, shaking his head and holding the Tyrant over his shoulder.

“I don’t get it. This would have been the perfect place to set up an ambush. It’s practically asking to separate and cut down your odds of survival. So where was the ambush. Better yet, where was the enemy?”

“I don’t know, and that is putting me one edge. The 289th has more man power to spare than we do. They’d be better tasked for something like this, and without schematics, we don’t even know what we can expect to see next. You guys find anything?”

The head shakes were in unison; Tanus just sighed. Great.

“What about you, Boss?”

“Well, we opened up an empty logistics center, which is great for us because we can get schematics. The bad bit to that is that we don’t have the New Republic hack codes, so we can’t get into the system.”

The groan from the squad was more or less in unison as they walked off, Wrex even going so far as to throw his hands in the air and start swearing like a sailor. Then Tanus walked back into the room and looked everything over. Hack codes? Of course.

He came back out of the room and looked at the squad.

“Get me Delta squad.”



Selka came trotting in, flanked by two more of his hackers. They weren’t supported by any of the others, which meant that they were standing guard outside. He came up and looked the room over before walking over to Tanus, who was sitting at a desk and staring at a computer screen.

“So it looks like you need my help. What can I do for you.”

“The usual stuff: Hack in, get the schematics, hang out with us, blow something up, go back home and drown our sorrows in alcohol.”

“Sounds like fun. We’ll get started right away. I dispatched three more of us to aid the Combat Engineers. I figured they could use the help too.”

“Good call. We’ll get out of your way. Call us when you’re done.”

They went out in the large room and sat down, Tanus taking a spot up against the way and leaning his head back. He couldn’t have been sitting for more than ten minutes when Selka came back out, holding a datapad. The others got up as Selka traversed the room and gave Tanus the datapad.

“Well there’s everything you need. It has all the schematics and door sequences you’ll need to get through here. Won’t tell you much on how to get back out alive I’m afraid.”

“Pfft. Like we need that. We’re made for this. Look at our armor for the Maker’s sake.”

“Fair enough. I’ll see you back topside.”

“Topside? You’re not staying with us?”

“Hell no. I play with machine; I don’t get shot at.”

And on that note, He turned on his heel and left, flanked by his two hackers. Tanus only sighed and shook his head. Once a hacker, always a hacker. He walked back over to the troopers, who were waiting with anticipation. He handed each of them the datapad after looking it over.

“All right, so now we have a plan. There’s a central reactor here that powers the entire base. If we can blow that, and I imagine we can thanks to Kestrel and the combat engineers, the whole base goes sky high. Right behind the ops room is another corridor, and at the end is a lift that will take us down to the reactor room. Expect heavy opposition from the enemy. The one issue there is that the room is expansive, and while that means a lot of cover for us, it also means a lot of cover for them. So stay sharp. All right Blackjacks, let’s finish this and go home.”



When the turbolift doors opened, the entire scene was something out of an old wartime holovid: The battle lines were clearly drawn, with the Combat Engineers still locked near the turbolift, while the commandos were running hit and run attacks with light and heavy blaster fire. Behind the commandos was a thick black durasteel door, which could only be the power core. Tanus surveyed the area quickly before coming up with battle plans.

“Garryll, get up top near the crates and lay down suppressing fire so we can move up. Wrex and Tank, spread and get them in a vice. Hem them in with concussion blasts. Kestrel, set up a grenadier position there near that rail behind the crates. I’ll take rifleman and coordinate something with the Engineers. Move out Blackjack!”

Garryll ran up the flight of stairs, and Tanus was not far behind him; Wrex and Tank set up quickly and were already laying down fire. Soon thereafter, Kestrel was lighting up the area with thermal dets. Tanus ran behind Garryll, firing as he did so; tracer rounds lit the air as Garryll pounded the enemy position with the Tyrant. Tanus loaded a grenade into the underslung launcher and fired, watching it arch through the air as it hit the door, there wasn’t even a scratch. Hmph. I expected nothing less. He ran over to the sergeant of the other unit and crouched down beside him. When he looked over, he just shook his head and kept firing.

“Glad you could join the party. It’s a bloody nightmare in here.”

“I can tell. I have my men running interference with support fire right now. When they start to fall back, we’ll move up.”

“If you say so. I just don’t want any of my men needlessly dying out there.”

“No worries sergeant. They will be fine. I’ll make sure of that. What’s your name anyway?”

“Sergeant Caron Stova. And just who the hell are you?”

“Gunnery Sergeant Tanus Solvona. You’ll find me by following the hammer.”

“Hmph, it’s just a big target.”

“True, but it’s a big target they can’t kill.”

“Whatever you say. We’ll follow your lead sergeant.”

Tanus nodded and ran back up to where Garryll was firing. Tanus lifted his rifle and started picking off soldiers hiding near the crates and railings. They started to fall slowly one by one. That’s right you bastards, run! Tanus adjusted his rifle, picking a new target with every shot. And then out of nowhere an explosion knocked him off his feet. He got up and saw a giant hole in the wall, and smoke was billowing out of it. Tanus looked around frantically. And then he found him. He pointed him out to Garryll.

“Garryll, one ‘o’clock! Rocket launcher!”

Garryll swiveled the Tyrant around and sprayed fire at the position, sending him into a frantic retreat. And then another missile streaked outward, slamming into the wall right near Kestrel. There’s two!? Why is the always two!? Tanus vaulted over the crates and ran forward, sliding behind crates and tossing a grenade as he did so. A plume of fire shook the catwalk as men screamed and died in a cascade of power. When he looked back, the combat engineers had started to move forward. Great. Another rocket streaked by and hit a wall, knocking two soldiers into the air and plummeted back to the ground. When Stova came over he was swearing.

“I thought you said none of my men would die!”

“Well, I didn’t account for them having rocket launchers! We’ll just have to take them out accordingly. You guys have any grenades?”

“Pfft. We’re combat engineers. Of course we have grenades.”

“Then you’d better start frakking using them.”

In unison, all of the Combat Engineers unhooked grenades from their belts. And then Stova rose up, primed grenade in hand.

“Boys, fire in the hole!”

In a wave of thermal dets, the catwalk and platform lit up in a roar of fire and death. All of the commandos that remained were swallowed by the fireball, and those that weren’t were thrown to their deaths. When the smoke cleared, the only thing that remained was the door. Tanus got up and looked around the area to the rest of the Blackjacks, and he waved his hand to get them to come together. He looked at Stova and tossed him the datapad, along with Kestrel’s bandolier of grenades.

“It’s your show boys. Make it pretty.”

“With pleasure.”



Tanus was running the hardest he ever had in his life; an all consuming explosion on your heels was a fairly decent motivator. When they hit sunlight, he just started waving his arms around and screaming, “Get back!” No one had to be told twice, and all 80 Stormtroopers ran for the trees. When they got back to the tree line, Stova pulled out a detonator and looked at the others.

“Hope y’all like fireworks.”

Then he pressed the button. Nothing happened at first, and then Tanus felt a rumble beneath his feet. A half second later a fireball shot out of the roof of the base, and then a wall of flame blasted out of the open front door. And then, in a glorious sight, the entire base was consumed in a massive fireball. When all was said and done, a cheer rose up from the ranks of the troopers. And then all of the troopers stepped out to take a look at the finishing touches.

“Pretty sight, ain’t it?” Garryll said as he walked up next to Tanus, Tyrant carried on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Tanus said. “I suppose. But all I want to do now is get the hell off this rock. Now where the hell is that gunship?”

OOC:

Story over.