The tunnels were tighter than Bright had anticipated, and did not help her mood any. She didn't like the the thought of possibly being buried alive, but then she didn't like the possibility of dying either. She held no illusions about whether she would or not. Having heard Karash's assessment of the situation she had to admit she quietly agreed with him. The Raiders would not be known as heroes they would just be another statistic somewhere on someone else's report. A collection of numbers, no names and no faces.

It occurred to her, that she wasn't being fair to those that actually would remember them. Havock certainly would. Raiders had been the woman's former squad. She'd known all of them. Bright had to wonder what their sudden death would do to her friend. Havock was strong, no doubts, but the red head had also seen what things like this could do to Havock.

She looked over at Joamer. He'd already said his goodbyes in his own strange way. He'd made sure that Lurk would be looked after. Bright only had her vast collection of animals, droids, and ships. In the event of her death the animals were to be relocated to their original habitat and set free, her droids were to be distributed among various contacts and acquaintances, and her ships were to be given to her mother on Bakura, with the exception of two. The Dathomiri Eclipse was to go to her first friend, Sira Markilas, and the second was the Huntress, to be left for Havock's personal use should she wish it. 

Bright realized more than anyone that she had next to no one that would morn her absence. There was a special place in hell for the things she'd done, so she guessed it was fitting having left behind no one. Looking over at Joamer again, she found he was looking at her. He gave her a small smile and an understanding nod. He always seemed to know just what she was thinking. Their friendship had at times been rocky, often with a more competitive outlook than anything, but she'd been glad for it. He knew better than anyone the risks she'd taken and kind of life she'd lead. She smiled back at him and nodded.

Her thoughts drifted to the rest of her squad. Karash had always been a source of mixed emotions for her. She both liked him and disliked him at the same time. Not to mention those moments when he made far too much sense for her comfort. It was those moments of clarity that kept her listening to him. He was one that she wished she didn't have to be caught in this mess. He had problems of his own. She glanced back at him. She knew he hated it, be he truly did care for his squad mates.

Heliwer and Mox often confused her. Hel, at times since she'd met him, seemed to be nothing but a brute, and at other times he truly had a noble heart. Mox had been ousted as a spy amongst them, but since that time has not done anything to betray them. In fact the guy had been down right helpful. Cayla had come to them so broken yet so willing to live on. She was so young. Tviana was strange to Bright but she could almost understand the Zelosian's ways of logic. Bright respected that. Then there was Grahim. The Gungan had been a Raider longer than she had. He was crazy, but he was her friend.

These guys deserve to live. She thought inwardly. Closing her eyes momentarily, Bright steeled her heart and cleared her mind for the task ahead.

“Who's there?” A woman's voice asked from ahead.

“Your escort, Raiders Squad.” Joamer said straightening his shoulders. “Are you all set?”

The woman engineer visibly relaxed as much as anyone could under the circumstances. “Almost, Sir. My name is Jilessa by the way.” Bright  could understand the woman's need to be known. To be remembered.

Joamer nodded, “I'm Joamer.” He said with a reassuring smile. Bright liked the man more for that. “Time to get to work Jilessa.” He said and signaled the Raiders to follow.

OOC:

Eclipse

Private First Class Kristof O’Neill stood in the tower, cautious and awaiting orders. Thyveck had been a hard campaign, he could not wait for it to end. Each day it felt like the tide was turning, one day for the Imperials and the next for the Republic. This latest assault would straight the battle weary troopers of Phoenix Company even more. Months had gone past, and only in the last days had anyone heard from outside of Thyveck.

A massive tower, it was just what Kristof wanted more than anything in the galaxy - heights. He felt like he should have just joined the Imperial Navy, he was dealing with heights on a daily basis anyways. The thought of it made him laugh, as he grabbed his E-45 blaster rifle and loaded a clip into it. He could hear shouting coming from the distance, he snapped to readiness and lifted his rifle. Skarr was alerting them of incoming hostiles, it was time for combat.

---

It was not much later that the squad was falling back for the walls. This would be the pattern of the battle. They would hold the line as much as possible until it was too much; then they would take one step backwards. Time would be the key in this battle, how long could they hold them off. Rawr moved back towards the walls, cautiously - providing cover fire where necessary. A quick, and short, retreat - though it was not much of a retreat.

“What are our orders?” Rawr yelled out to Skarr when they were at the wall and in cover.

“Keep shooting, hold the line. Pull back on my command.” Skarr replied, Rawr wondered if there was any grin to it. Skarr had to know that they were being overwhelmed. All the same, Eclipse kept its cool in the situation, no one was overeating - that was what was keeping them alive.

As Rawr leaned out from cover to look at the Republic soldier’s distance, the inevitable happened. He could see the republic troopers gaining ground, some began to open fire blindly as they got closer. Though just as he left his bad vantage point to take cover and wait for orders, a round from a Republic trooper landed right in Kristof’s chest near his ribcage. The jolt knocked him back, almost to the ground. It was extremely unexpected to him, as he finally fell to the ground.

The Bastion’s klaxons wailed constantly. Army soldiers and Stormtroopers rushed around the defenses, weapons in hand. Explosions shook the ground as the Republic’s artillery smashed into Bastion’s walls. Still, they would not fall.

However, the Republic didn’t need to batter the walls down; they had already managed to blast their way into a weak point - the front door. Any structure, no matter its strength, sacrificed structural integrity with a portal; no reasonable door could be as well-fortified as a solid wall and still retain its usefulness. Size mattered not; a door in an apartment was a weak point, the same as the portcullis to a castle. Already, hundreds of Republic soldiers and dozens of tanks had poured into the open square, and had died in droves, slaughtered by the slowly-withdrawing Imperial forces, layer upon layer of defense. Too, the meager Imperial armor assets had nipped at the Republic’s spear head, but they were too few in number to seriously slow down the attack and had withdrawn to support later defenses.

Blackjack and Galm squads were dug in a one of those later defenses. At the top of a 250-meter incline, wide enough for two tanks or a quadruple-file of troops, towered Valdell Gate. Two dozen feet tall, and as wide as the incline, it was one of the many strategically-placed gateway defense points that were scattered across Bastion Defense, separating ‘compartments’ of the defense.

Gates had slung his E-45 and was currently balancing a rocket launcher on his shoulder. His view of the defense was one of the best in the house. Two hundred meters of flat, unyielding, inclined stone. A perfect killing field. The last defense before them had recently retreated behind Valdell Gate, a platoon of Army soldiers hastily falling back and exchanging fire with Republic scouts as they did.

The scouts’ cooling bodies had rolled down the hill, picked off by Blackjacks’ and Galms’ shooters. The Stormtroopers settled back into waiting. They knew it wouldn’t be long.

The chatter on the comlinks had grown ever more stressed, but all the rest of the Bastion defenses seemed to still be holding their own - barely. If Blackjack could contain the advance at Valdell, and their counterparts on the opposite end of Bastion’s Defense Compartment “A” could do the same at their Gate, they could severely slow the Republic assault.

“LT, enemies spotted!” said one of the auto-rifleman, Tanner. “Permission to fire?”

“Granted! All troopers, fire when targets are acquired!” Gates said calmly, making it an order. Adrenaline began to trickle into his veins, the combat-feelings fueling his thought process. Though the command channel still barked and yelled in his ear, he tuned it out; their fights were their own. This was his and his command’s fight, and he’d be focused on it.

To the far right of the Gate’s mouth, Tanner had the best view. Her T-21 started banging, fat, heavy laser blasts spitting from its barrel. She stopped to reload it only once before the Republic forces fully rounded the corner and became obvious to all of the Blackjack and Galm troopers, who added their own fire.

The Republic forces were enormous, but numbers were their only advantage. They had no cover, and a man died from almost every single Blackjack shot. Their own return fire was ineffectual against the well-dug in troopers. The first wave was held back, slaughtered. Over fifty men had charged up the hill, and all had died. The nearest had gotten within 120 meters.

Republic forces didn’t emerge in force for a few minutes after their first failed assault, and the Stormtroopers contented themselves with sniper-shots at any Republic trooper dumb enough to poke his head out.

The next Republic plan was simple, and was easily guessed by the sound it made. Tank treads clanked and rumbled as a pair of heavy main battle tanks churned around the corner. The two machines accelerated up the hill, their engines roaring as horsepower pushed the dozens of tons of armor and weaponry up the hill. Infantry advanced behind the metal shield, and laser fire spanged off of the toughened frontal armor of the two tanks.

They’d have had a tough time stopping this strategy if it wasn’t so text book and simple. Gates raised his rocket launcher, aimed, and fired. The weapon, a twenty-kilogram tube with some basic aiming tech mounted on, fired an armor-piercing shell down the range at the left-most tank. Its results were gratifying and instant.

Though toughened against most shells of such caliber and with armor that was slanted to deflect damage, Gates had intentionally aimed slightly low, and that, coupled with the style and design of the shell he’d fired, cut right through the tank’s frontal armor and exploded inside the vehicle, incinerating its crew and blowing the tank’s upper cannon off. Without commands, hopeless, the sixty-plus tons of metal began to slid back down the hill, crushing hapless Republic soldiers beneath it.

Garryll ducked behind the sandbags as he reloaded, taking another missile from the pack he’d scrounged from a heavy-weapons team and dropping it into the PLEX launcher. The load-indicator glowed green at the reload, and Gates took aim at the other tank. Its driver had seen his comrade’s fate, and was trying to shimmy his tank in an evasive pattern and finish closing the distance to the Blackjack position. It was only a hundred meters away.

Gates visually tracked the tank, ignoring the gunfire exploding around him as his troopers fired at the advancing Republic column and the exposed soldiers fired back. It began another zig-zag pattern, and Gates stabbed the launch button, letting loose another rocket. This one didn’t have the same effect, though it was quite as spectacular. The missile screamed down range and impacted the outer edge of the tank’s tread. The kinetic force of the explosion ripped the tread apart and slammed the tank to the side, into the outer wall of Bastion. Such a great mass slamming into the thinner defensive walls at the top of the great defense was far too much for it to handle, and the tank slid over the edge, flipping in space as it fell to its death outside Bastion’s walls.

Again, the infantry were gunned down, but desperate troopers used their dead comrades as defensive positions, stacking them up to save their own lives. Gates reloaded and blasted one such position apart, but as he reached for another rocket, he was dismayed to find the sack empty.

“Shit!” he muttered. Though this second charge had been stopped, it had gotten far closer than the first had, and they were out of munitions on hand to stop and kill tanks. “Kilroy, how’s that plan of yours coming along?”

“Almost done, LT!” replied the eager trooper. “Just have to find some more explosives!”

“Good - get it up here when you finish,” Gates ordered, dropping the useless rocket launcher and re-drawing his E-45. “We’re going to need it soon.”

As if at his command, the Republic began its third attack. The same exact strategy was used again, a pair of tanks rumbling up the hill, infantry columns behind them.

“Kilroy!” Gates barked. “Move it, now, trooper!”

Already, the tanks were bearing down on them, the drivers far more aggressive this time. Gates blasted away at the thin view ports of one of the tanks, hoping to score a lucky hit on defective laser-resistant glass, or at least blind the driver. Laser fire fell like a wave from the Blackjack positions into the tanks, but none of it had any effect. One of the tanks answered back, but its shell, poorly-aimed, flashed over their heads like an artillery shell.

They’d closed to within seventy meters, their infantry support tight on their heels, when Kilroy’s plan finally came into fruition. A roar behind them caused Blackjack and Galm to duck and look, and then quickly roll and duck out of the way.

Kilory’s plan was as elegant as an enraged Rancor, but far more devastating. A thirty-ton fuel truck was barreling down the Bastion defense wall, Kilroy at its wheel. Though his face was hidden behind a plastoid helmet and T-visor, Gates felt the man’s insane grin.

The sandbags, half of their insides turned to burned glass, slammed aside as the vehicle roared down the hill, picking up more speed as gravity started pulling it. Only a split second before it hit the hill, Kilroy rolled out violently, his armor clanking as it took the brunt of his rapid roll. He bounced to his feet in a moment, though, a detonator in his hands.

The two tanks, crawling up the hill, had no time to react. The tanker, thirty tons of , metal and high-octane fuel and stuck with triggered explosives, slammed down the hill, and crashed into the tanks for a moment before actually getting airborne as it slid up the sloped tanks’ forward armor. Kilroy took that moment to stab the detonator’s large, red button.

Four thousand gallons of highly flammable military fuel exploded in a moment, and fire rained on the screaming Republic troops. The two lead tanks exploded as they were coated in flames and burning gasoline, their ammunition contributing to the pyre.

“That was awesome,” one of the Galm troopers breathed. Others muttered expletives and stared in shock, blinking the after-image of the massive fireball from their eyes. Gates was almost surprised they hadn’t been consumed by the inferno. He looked back and forth at the sandbags, smashed, destroyed. There was no longer a tenable position here.

“Blackjack! Galm! We’ve done enough here. Fall back to defense point Gamma!”

OOC:

ECLIPSE

“Ion! Grab Rawr!” Skarr shouted. Taran layed down the covering fire necessary for Ion to drag Rawr to safety. Or as close to safety as they could get. The fight in the courtyard had been brutal. Eclipse had fallen back as much as they could, firing all the way. Blackjack had been on the other side of the courtyard, tearing things up as they had always done. Now Eclipse and Blackjack were on opposite sides of Bastion. Skarr believed it was for the best. The soldiers would do well to have an elite squad taking care of them. As Eclipse had fallen back, they had gained more Imperial troops under their command.

The engineers were welding the blast doors shut as Skarr spread the troopers out among cover. The street they were in was large enough for tanks and Skarr was setting up accordingly. Several soldiers had been equipped with PLX launchers and been placed behind the heaviest cover. Depriving the Republic of their tanks was first and foremost on Skarr’s list. If only Phoenix’s warehouse was not so far. Skarr would have sent for the tank Eclipse had commandeered outside of Bastion. That was not possible. Not without depriving Eclipse of needed manpower.

If the tanks were taken out, Bastion would have an easier time of surviving. Skarr was still thinking in terms of saving Bastion rather than stalling the effort to take it over. It was not a good mind set, knowing you were losing the fight. Skarr was trying his best to even the odds. If he was going down, he would do so swinging. He was sure Eclipse felt the same, but in the end Skarr would allow them to give themselves up if they wished. His squad came first and that was the bottom line. Get them home.

Eclipse was spread out among the various Imperial troops. Each one of them given command of a number of soldiers. But in the end everyone answered to Skarr. All comms were open to his channel and he would use that to his advantage. The battle was his to coordinate, at least on this side of Bastion. At least there were two things to the Vast Empire’s advantage. The first was that the Republic would have to split their forces in two. The first force to run after Blackjack, the second after Eclipse. The second was the blast door itself. The door would effectively bottleneck the Republic’s forces. It was large enough for a tank to enter on its own without any space left.  So, the Republic had choices to make. Send infantry in first and get slaughtered, or send in a tank and create a possible barrier to the rest of the infantry.

The squad leader hoped they would choose the latter. A smoking wreckage could block the Republic’s advance fairly well. Skarr looked at the blast doors that were even now super heating with the force of the lasers hitting it. The door would melt in on itself soon. Skarr only hoped that they could hold this position. He did not like retreating, but the avenues were open and he had set up their retreat in advance. The blast door was nearly red now with heat. The squad leader shouldered his E-45 and sighed deeply.

The comm flickered to life in his helmet. “Eclipse Squad and Imperial troopers, hold all fire until you have acquired your target. Once you have a visual, you may fire at will. Launchers, I ask that you hold fire until you see tanks. And may everyone remember this day because I’m sure those frakkin’ Reshies will remember the day that we...” Skarr’s voice trailed off as parts of the blast door began falling off. There was no time for joke now. Things were about to get serious.

OOC:

Simple plans. Hold off the Republic forces. If you wish to introduce some surprise that the Republic has, do so. Just don't make it too big, and if you are unsure, clear it with me first. Get to it people!

OOC:

Eclipse

Rawr laid there, stunned from the shot that could have killed him. It was a good thing that their equipment was quality, otherwise he would be dead. Though, casualties were an everyday thing on Thyveck - people were dying all around. The battle seemed to go on forever, with no clear end in sight. Eclipse was taking specific shots not, it was too late to fire blindly. Rawr needed to get back into the fight, in this battle every man counts. Eclipse, and the other squads, needed to hold off the Republic advance for as long as possible - at least until someone had a better plan.

Staggering up, in pain but able, Rawr lifted himself and looked across the way to find Eclipse. He could hear the sounds of battle. Blaster fire, a familiar and horrible sound, was all that could be heard. The walls were covered in carbon scarring from the weapons discharge and impacts, the entire complex was badly damaged and falling apart in some cases. He just stood there wondering to himself why Thyveck was worth all this trouble, he wondered what value it held. It seemed like this entire operation was for nothing, or at least it seemed that way to him.

He could see his squad fighting off the massive horde of Republic forces, they seemed to never end. Skarr was discussing their plan with the squad, though he turned and saw Rawr staggering over towards them. Eclipse had been through hell with this entire operation, at first they were out manned and out gunned, then they were low on supplies - tired, hungry - and still got the job done. This operation had to be taking a strain on everyone, especially the commanding officers of the Squads.

“You okay?” Skarr yelled over.

Rawr didn’t say a word, but gave a “thumbs-up” to get his point across.

“Close enough. Take up formation if you're good to go.” Skarr said as he continued with the planning.

He could see Skarr had concern as to if he was truely okay, but that he also had a larger concern about the wellbeing of the entire squad. It was almost like he had three eyes; one on his squad, one looking at Rawr, and one keeping watchful of the enemy advance. Rawr, even in his shaken up state, followed orders. He took up formation and listened in as the plans were set - ready to again do his part to get the job done, and hopefully go home soon.

OOC:

BlackJack/Galm

Kilroy was giggling maniacally after what he just pulled off.  Although his exit strategy wasn’t thought out that well, for all things considered, Plan: KILL IT WITH FIRE, worked much better that he actually thought it would.  Ah thank the Emperor for recordable helmet camera feeds.  Kilroy thought, sprinting in order to catch up with the rest of Galm and BlackJack.  It wasn’t long before his giggling turned into ragged breaths as pain shot throughout his chest.  “Oh man, remind me never to jump out of a moving vehicle ever again.  That…was a stupid idea.”

“Hey Kilroy, you up?”

“Hey Cipher….I’m effed up but I’m up….I think I might have cracked something back there though.”

“Show me.  Strip off your glove sections as well; I want to get those patched up as well.”

“Sure thing doc; can I get a lollipop afterwards?”  Removing the tattared gloves; he winced as some of his skin peeled off as well.  After finally getting them completely off both hands, Kilroy stared at his blood encrusted hands, wondering just how much damage he has inflicted on them in the past few hours.  First it was having his gun explode in them, then the impromptu raid into a nearby armory, and last but not least, the eventual fuel tanker adventure.  This is going to be a long day and going to get worse before it gets any better.

----

Private First Class Lightray had to admit it, but BlackJack’s support unit was certainly one of the craziest groups out there.  Looking back at their first former line of defense, he could have sworn that he could still hear the crackling of fire, let alone see it from where he now stands.  “Won’t be long now till that fire abates or the Reppies find a way around it.  Once that happens, then the fun begins again.”  He said, walking at a brisk pace towards a hastily set up medical tent that was inside a ruined building.  I wonder how that one guy is doing; he took quite the fall back there.

“PFC Jo'ron Tallus, are you injured?”

“Nah Doc, just seeing how pyro here is doing; is he good to go?”

“’Fraid not, Kilroy here isn’t going to be in any marksmanship tournaments any time soon.  Both his hands I was able to patch up rather easily with the Bacta gel that I have on me.  However I won’t be able to work on the internal damage he has…Varl, where the hell did you get those?!?"

“I stole em….”

“Can I keep him Doc?”

---

“Sir, Higher just called.  They said to hold this position at all costs.”  PV2 Nagase reported to Lieutenant Gates with a hint of darkness in her voice.  “They said they needed more time to set up more attainable defensive positions within the inner walls.”  Without a moments hesitation, she handed Gates the com system’s horn and waited for the inevitable swearing at high command.  To her surprise that never came as the BlackJack Lt. calmly talked to the person on the other side.  Well, that’s different, I think I like our new CO.  She thought, restoring the com’s horn back onto its handle.

“Nagase, find the Doc….Tell him that he’s going to need a bigger room to work in.”

“Roger Ell-tee.”

“Also, go find Sergeant Valthir as well; I’m going to need his assessment on our current defenses. That’s all for now.”

“On my way boss.”  Nagase replied as she headed off into where she thought Ciphers general position would be.  It wasn’t hard to find, what with the roaring laughter from one of BlackJack’s members and the ever so recognizable coughing fit that has plagued her friend Kilroy since they have fallen back.  Walking in, she saw Cipher helping their fellow Galm member put his armor back on with a new set of gloves while Lightray was off in a corner holding something in his hands.  “Cipher, the ell-tee says you’re going to need a bigger workspace, we’re going to be here for a while.  Hey Lightray, do you think you can help me find your……Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes…yes it is...Isn't it grand?”

“How?”

“We raided the armory.”

“WHY?!?!?”

OOC:

Figured with the inferno going on from Gates last post, it would be some time before the Republic forces tried to push through again...but that's just me

Time was running out until the rest of the New Republic troopers broke through the wall, more significantly the RAIDERS were running out of time. Time running out had become a rather ambiguous term as it not only referred to the fact they had a limited amount of time to prepare any defences but also to the ever increasing likelihood that the RAIDERS would all die.

‘You really should be helping them you know but then again you never were any good at anything like that. It is probably best that you do keep out of the way, you would probably end up blowing us all up.’ As always Karash’s inner monologue was doing its level best to mock and degrade any attempt at doing something constructive but that was oddly comforting as it presented things as normal.

“Five minutes till they break through!” Brightstar shouted over the noise of the engineers working, the rest of the squad laying traps and impending enemy forces.

“We need more time!” Yelled a voice from the general direction of the engineers.

“You worry about what you’ve got to do and let us worry about everything else.” Joamer yelled back as he darted from group to group.

Karash decided it was best not to directly involve himself with the preparation of defences, he thought it best to wait back and see if there was anything else he could do. From what he could tell a series of small explosive devices and other such booby traps were being hastily set-up. The Senior Sergeant felt helpless at that precise moment, he had no control over his defence, he had no control of his death and he had no control his actions. The long months on the planet had led to an automation of actions; he was past the point of exhaustion and now just acted instinctively.

“I do believe we have run out of time.” Karash said calmly and quietly as cracks in the wall became apparent.

“Get to your positions.” Brightstar ordered as everyone dashed to their respective positions of cover.

Karash had ended up being with Grahim; it was odd to possibly die with someone you had attempted to kill in the past. ‘Maybe this time you could actually kill him?’

“Shut up!” The medic snarled.

“Yousa okie?” The Gungan asked half-concerned.

“As far as one can be whilst being faced with impending death.” Karash curtly responded.

Grahim did not attempt further conversation and still did not look like he fully comprehended what was said. The next few moments went through the usual, and clichéd, drawn out and desperate period of time, where the entire world seemed to slow to an almost stop. As the remainder of the wall began to crumble away and dust filled what little air there was, the atmosphere became slightly desperate as no one knew what was approaching.

“Brace yourselves.” A voice cried out, presumably Joamer.

The wall did crumble and NR troops did begin to flood into the cavernous space, with only one squad and a group of hapless engineers in their way they must have thought this was going to be easy. Of course they did not realise exactly what squad was standing in their way, the same squad that had made mountains crumble and the same squad that had withstood explosions, laser bolts and an elite team of commandos. It was not usual for Karash to become sentimental but for a moment he was very proud to be standing with these men and women, he was even proud of standing next to a one eared Gungan.

“Well if I am going to die, I suppose it is alright to die next to you.” Karash said in a final moment of sentimentality, “No I am not sure why I said it...”

The first shots were fired and the NR troops seemed to be taking heavy causalities as they fell afoul of the RAIDERS traps. However they all knew that the reason so many appeared to be falling was because they were rushing head first through a small space, facing a temporarily unknown force. It would not be long before they regrouped and their overwhelming would work to their advantage.

‘This won’t go well.’

Traps, explosives, and fire oh my. This certainly has been fun.

Valthir leaned up against a barricade and looked down his scope at the edge of the hill, awaiting any Republic trooper stupid enough to march up it without cover. He scanned the area, eyes lingering on the burning wreckage and fiery corpses that littered the ground.

“Sergeant Valthir? 2nd Lieutenant Gates wants to see you.” a hesitant voice spoke from Valthir’s right.

He moved his head a fraction and identified the speaker as one of the Galm troopers. He looked past her and saw one of his own troopers standing nearby.

Lightray.

He pushed off of the barricade and gave a nod to both, “Thank you.”

It didn’t take long to find Garryll. The man was standing back in the space behind the doors, talking on a comm. He had his helmet off and looked calm.

Good. He hasn’t received any spectacularly bad news so far. That bodes well.

Garryll looked up as Valthir approached, the sergeant’s boots clacking against the hard floor. Quickly, he finished up whatever conversation he was having and cut the connection.

“You called?” Valthir said with a hidden grin.

The squad leader’s face remained emotionless, “I did. You’ve had some time to look at our defenses. What do you think about them?”

Valthir glanced around as he thought, “I didn’t actually get a good look at everything, but I think we may need to buff up the front a little bit, and bring it back a bit just behind the doors. That way, there won’t be anything to obstruct their closing in the case of an emergency retreat. Also, I noticed that they have a medic. He may need to pull his operations back behind where we are, so in the event of a retreat, he has time to pack up and leave.”

“Good idea on the first part. And I already have the doc moving. Tell some of the troopers to accompany the doc and his patients - if he has any - into the base behind us. We don’t know if any Republic troopers have broken in behind us, so it would be helpful to get some scouting going on. Also, get whoever is left to help you in reorganizing our defenses. I’ll be on the comm with Command if you need me.”

“Right.”

Stepping away as Garryll again picked up the comlink and held it to his ear, Valthir crossed the floor began pulling various nearby troopers along with him.

As they drew close, he began speaking to the confused beings, “I’m going to need you to accompany the doc to wherever he decides to go. We aren’t sure if more Republic troopers have broken in somewhere down the line, so we need you to keep the doc safe and to scout around. We don’t want to be surprised if we have to make a hasty retreat.”

The small group broke away and he continued, again pulling idle troopers along with him as he walked.

He stopped near the front of their barricades and began gesturing as he talked, “Those need to be brought back behind the doors. We also need to raise them up slightly so the Republic troopers - if they get this far - will have a tough time getting over them.”

He paused as some niggling thought passed through his mind.

“Wait. Do we have any explosives? We do? Excellent. Booby trap the front area however you like, but make sure we can easily see it so none of us accidentally blow ourselves up. Get to it!”

The seconds ticked by as the squad fought the nearly endless waves of republic soldiers. In truth it was only six of them that had been shot or triggered one of the traps set up by RAIDERS. They were not mindless drones, bent only on taking the cavern. They were living, breathing, thinking individuals who could figure out tactics and take actions accordingly. Which meant they fell back to a position inside the tunnel and waited.

Joamer watched the trails of smoking drifting lazily up towards the ceiling. Luckily it was finding ways to escape to the next level otherwise the cavern would eventually fill up. He could hear the engineers working in the various shadows of the cavern behind him. He flexed his hand on the grip of his A280 and breathed slowly.

His head was numb from the current cocktail of drugs Karash had him on. His cybernetics were cooperating for the most part, sometimes a finger would twitch involuntarily though. Luckily it had not twitched enough to misfire his rifle, that could restart the whole battle over again.

He knew they were just stalling for time, the other group that had tried to come through the ceiling was making their way through the tunnels to this cavern by now. Luckily it was a complete maze of abandoned corridors, old supply rooms, and half collapsed rubble. They had awhile still, the squad came down with guides. The republic soldiers were not so fortunate.

He looked around at his troopers. They were relaxed, calm, and ready for whatever came. Well, on the outside they were. He knew inside they were all wondering if he would somehow create the miracle they needed to get home. RAIDERS squad leaders of the past had the uncanny ability to create a miracle right at the perfect moment. He was not sure he could pull that off though, if he had to he would sacrifice his life for the squad.

He knew he had to get them home, this might be a suicide mission but only one of them needed to die. He was an experienced Storm Trooper, still new to the Squad Leader game. But... he was also older then everyone of them. He had to become their miracle, the one that would get them home.

He began considering his options, being a prisoner of war would be bad. With his status his interrogation would take years, and he doubted they would give him a single chance at escaping. Not with the information they no doubt had on him, they knew better then to let him get any opportunity. He could feel Bright's eyes on him, he knew she was going down the same mental road as him. He ignored the glare she suddenly gave him, as she realized what he was planning.

"Ragtag bunch of misfits you got over there." A voice from the tunnel said a few minutes later. "Need better training if you ask me, must be only recruits left of your pitiful Empire. Can't even successfully defend a cavern. Just surrender already, you can't win against a better force."

"That's saying a lot. Considering it was us who caused the mountain to crush your friends a few days ago!" Joamer shouted right back. "If you want to know, you are dealing with the one and only RAIDERS. We will be sure to have them write it on your tombstone when you fall to us."

The squad waited about half a second before they began cheering and sending taunts back at the republic soldiers. They began daring them to charge the cavern, even boasting how many they would kill before they were finally cut down. Joamer considered telling them to be quiet, but right now he did not care. He was glad they were were able, at least for a short time, to make their presence known to the world one last time.

"You bastard, my brother was in that group that got beaten to a pulp! I'm going to kill you with my bare hands, I'm going to bathe in your blood!" A new enraged voice shouted from inside the tunnel. They could hear shuffling, and movement inside the tunnel. Low angry voices were heard as someone was dragged away from the entrance. A few moments later the first voice came back

"You seem to have upset my second in command, I take it you are the leader of RAIDERS?"

"You assume correctly." Joamer replied, he signaled the squad to be ready for anything.

"I've been given permission to offer you terms of surrender. You're men will be treated with respect and care, and returned to the Empire in exchange for ours that have been taken." The leader of the other force said a few moments later. "Of course, yourself and your second will remain our guests for a bit longer."

"Not happening!" The squad seemed to say at once. He could hear and see everyone checking their weapons as they got ready for the last stand of the RAIDERS.

"As you can see we decline your terms of surrender." Joamer shouted back. As he readied his own rifle.

"A pity, looks like we will have to end this with blood and fire." The man said, a few seconds later the tunnel went quiet.

Joamer looked at his squad, their breathing was soft, quiet. Their eyes were determined now, they were going to go out with a bang at the very least.

OOC:

Eclipse

The campaign moved on, Eclipse headed for the high ground –intent of picking off their enemy. As they got into position, the republic finally melted through the blast door. They poared through like water through a hose, they just flooded the battlefield. However in the end Eclipse had a plan, it started with explosive and ended with a bang – a massive bang.

The explosion rocked the battlefield, and stopped the Republic advance in its tracks. The buildings began to fall apart, and the debris covered the road. It was too hazardous, and for that matter too time consuming and open for the infantry to get over or through. The mechanized groups would be unable to advance, the main throughway was gone. The tanks would never be able to get through the streets, and would have to find a different way. They would scope out the battlefield and find no such path – they were too big. The Republic forces had lost their ability to have a large amount of superior firepower in the coming battles – it would all be done with a soldier and a blaster, or for that matter and explosive device.

The screams of a Republic Infantry soldier could be heard, as he was trapped in the rubble. This would also slow down the advance. They were ruthless, but they would not leave one of their own behind. As others provided cover, some infantry, and some medics, crawled into the debris to retrieve the man. Watching carefully, a man stood behind the cover of a building. He watched and gave orders to what appeared to be his squad – he was an Assistant Squad Leader, Thunderbird Squad. Gunnery Sergeant Bloodbound he was, standing and observing the battlefield.

As the medics retrieved the man, and began to carry him off it, it only got worse. The Imperial forces began to fire very accurately; Eclipse was doing their job and picking shots. A infantry trooper was picked off as he exited the rubble after the body. Eclipse however did not attack the medics, they posed no threat to the Imperial war effort. “Thunderbirds, form up!” Bloodbound yelled, as the other squads ran and advanced – of course they went nowhere as the road was blocked. “We are going to move slowly through the buildings, we’ll leave being cannon fodder to everyone else.” He said, as the squad laughed.

The squad slowly reentered the street, knowing they were at risk in the open. They made haste for the cover of a building, the building being their entrance. Thunderbird Squad prided itself on being the “best” of the best, even if that title was self-named. Truthfully they were a grade “A” squad, and could earn that title if they tried. The Squad followed their orders, and formed up behind Bloodbound. Carefully they entered the building, one that was half blown to hell during the explosion. Carefully they moved about, trudging through the rubble in the building. Carefully, they watched for the Imperial troopers who they pursued – they feared an ambush.
The hallway they were in was dark, there was no power to the lights – they were taken out in the explosion. The ceiling of the hall was closed in some areas, and open in the other areas. It was a dangerous mixture that would keep them on edge. Bloodbound was in the lead, and making a good pace through the hallway – he could see the next room just ahead. As they entered an area of the hall with no ceiling, he heard a noise. It smelled like a trap. “Hold up.” Bloodbound whispered, and gave a hand signal to stop.

Pointing to two of the Thunderbirds, he instructed to crawl through the hallway to the opening on the other side opening. “Movement.” He whispered over comm.  The two troopers crawled through the hallway to the other end, and then crouched. While crouched, they searched the rooms – looking for the enemy.

[[Clear.]] They reported over comm., and gave Bloodbound a Thumbs-up. The squad began to walk through the room.

An object flew through the air towards a trooper, and slammed into his head, and knocked him to the ground – a large rock. “Cover!” Bloodbound yelled. The squad took cover and aim, as they looked for the enemy. They looked around the room for the Imperials, they saw none.

They all came to the conclusion that it came from the room on the other side of the wall they were leaning on. One of the troopers tossed a grenade over the wall, where the rock originated from. The blast rocked the room, tore a hole in the wall, and filled the room with smoke. The hole in the wall was close, but not too close, to the Thunderbirds. Two people exited the room, fleeing the smoke – coughing the entire time. Civilians.

Coughing, they ran out of the room and attempted to run past the troopers. “You bastards! Look what your battle did to our home!” One of them yelled as they ran past the troopers for an exit.

One of the Republic troopers took aim, he was going to put them down. As he readied, Bloodbound walked over and put his hand on the trooper’s shoulder “Stand down, they’re no threat to us. Let’s move on.”

The troopers nodded as they wandered down the hallway towards the next room, they were slowly making their way through. The direct routes were cut off, and they would have to go through collapsed areas.

The squad could only imagine what they fellow Republic troopers were going through – the other squads were attempting to go directly through the buildings at the explosion. While they would get through quicker, they would have many casualties – thunderbird was moving slow, but safe.

Eclipse however was safe in their heights, waiting for the Republic to make their move. At least that was the plan that Eclipse had, that plan was subject to change at any time. The entire situation was slowly building up, every time Eclipse moved up they had less area to retreat to – eventually they’d be at the top. For now, however, they would hold the line.

OOC:

Sidestory of one of the Republic Squads that are pursuing Eclipse.

OOC:

Eclipse

The Thunderbirds advanced through the buildings, they were almost there - almost to where Eclipse was waiting. They would get there in a matter of minutes, though fate had a different plan. As they advanced, with Bloodbound at the lead, there was a change in the plan. They walked through a hallway, not knowing that the building was structurally unsound. The floor creaked, and eventually a loud “crack” and “crash” was heard. The floor gave in, and Bloodbound fell through to the floor below - or for that matter the space between what was left of two floors. The ceiling above the Thunderbirds also fell in, they were cut off from their field commander.

Outside, Eclipse could hear the sounds - though they disregarded it as the sounds of battle.

Bloodbound was alive, and in good health, he yelled to the squad above “You guys alright?”

“Yes sir! We’re cut off from you, and the exit!” A trooper yelled back.

“Circle back to the rest of the attack force, I will make my way through to you.” He yelled back.

The squad obeyed, and made haste backwards towards the Republic attack force. Disoriented, Bloodbound wondered through the building towards the nearest “exit” - exit being light of any kind. As far as where he was, he did not know in fact. He was completely lost, and possibly losing blood  from a possible wound during the collapse.

****

Bloodbound could hear the sounds of battle over his com-link, though his transmitter was damaged in the collapse. He had been wondering for some time, and seen no one.The battle was a stalemate, neither the Imperials or the Republic had the upper hand anymore, as far as the immediate area went at least.  In addition to the com-link, he could see an exit. He approached it, and saw a figure standing - looking like it was a posted trooper on gaurd.

He staggered towards the soldier, “Trooper, what’s current situation? Have the Imperials made a move yet?”

The trooper did not even turn to look, “Well we’re sitting put, waiting for them to make their first move. The bastards will not take us.”

Slightly confused, and still disoriented, “Good. What is the status of Thunderbird squad, have they reported in?”

“Who?” The trooper said, and turned “What the hell!” The Trooper, a Eclipse soldier - Rawr - said as he raised his rifle, “Don’t move!”

“What the hell are you doing?” The man yelled.

“Sir! A Republic soldier got through our lines! I have him in sights, what should I do?” Rawr said over comm. to Skarr.

[[What? How! Um... hold him there. Take him into custody?]] Skarr replied.

“On you’re knees, Repiblic scumbag.” Rawr said, grabbing restraignt-ties that he had with him - memories from Blackgate.

“Shit...” Bloodbound said, realizing his mistake, “No! You won’t take me!” He raised his weapon.

Rawr fired his, close range - not a chance of missing. Bloodbound was down, dead.

[[What the hell was that?]] Skarr questioned over comm.

“He raised a weapon, I had no choice - I’m sorry boss.”

[[Don’t be, it happens. Secure the scene, and return to your post.]]

“Aye, Sir.” He said, looking at the body. “... damn it.”

OOC:

Ends my little side story of Bloodbound and the Thunderbird Squad.

The first thing you noticed was the smell.

It was as if someone had put a little bit of every substance known to every sentient species into a massive container, pressurized it, and then set the whole damn thing alight. The smell of burnt rubber mingled with that of charred fabric, and melted durasteel mixed in with the unmistakeable scent of burning flesh. It was a scent that only those who had seen war truly understood, and it assaulted the young trooper’s nose as he lay in the mud, surrounded by rubble and the corpses of Stormtroopers and New Republic infantry alike, his gunmetal grey eyes slowly fluttering open before slamming shut again as a nearby explosion flashed before him, blindingly bright and sending a sharp stab of pain through his head. He could feel his pulse behind his eyes, each individual heartbeat seeming to scrape against the back of his eyeballs. It reminded him of the time he had hit the cantinas in an all-night drinking binge after a successful assignment on Nar Shadaa – or, more specifically, the morning after.

He shook his head to try and clear out the pain, but that only made it worse. Trying to move slowly so that he wouldn’t draw attention, he reached into one of the pouches in his utility belt and drew out a tiny package. Folding it open with gloved and blood-splattered hands, he separated a small amount of what Glitterstim Spice he had from the rest and brought it up to his nose, inhaling the illegal narcotic with a well-practised movement. As he put the rest away and felt the ache in his head start to fade, he realized that his helmet, and therefore his only link to the rest of the Imperial war effort, was missing. He sighed as he looked around, trying to locate the most important piece of his Stormtrooper armour. Eventually, looking up at the top of the wall where he had been fighting, he spotted a white glint that must have been it, and noticed what looked like a large piece of shrapnel embedded inside it. He placed his hand on his forehead, and sighed as he saw it came away covered in blood. The helmet had saved his life, but its loss had cut him off from the rest of his squad.

Well, that explained why his head hurt so much. He reached over to the corpse of a dead New Republic soldier, a hole where his eye should have been revealing the pinpoint laser blast that had killed him, and tore away a part of the man’s camouflage cloak, using it as a makeshift bandage to at least cover the wound and stop the bleeding. It looked like a bandanna from one of those old action holo-dramas, he mused to himself, as he slowly and unsteadily got to his feet, looking around. The fighting in this particular breach of the wall seemed to have died off for a few moments, and a large crater nearby revealed that someone had either tripped the mother of all landmines, or this section of the wall had recently come under artillery fire. He guessed the former, especially when he found the dead Imperial Army trooper, his hand still gripping the detonator. Fraggin’ army.

He sighed to himself as he snatched up his E-45 from where it had been thrown and inspected it for damage. The cooling vanes were a little chipped and the trigger guard had been ripped out entirely, not to mention the dents on the pistol grip itself, but the rifle seemed to be in good working order, the damage entirely cosmetic. He wasn’t surprised, as BlasTech made some extremely rugged gear. Even before he had signed up with the Imperials, he’d used their gear. He checked the charge on the ammo clip and, satisfied that it was working, took a step forward, planning to try and find some cover so that he could hold off the New Republic soldiers that he damn well knew were going to try and pour through the breach that the mine had made. His ears were still ringing, still slightly shellshocked by the explosion, and he couldn’t hear the muted footsteps that were closing behind him.

Now!

Trooper TK-2301, named Jack Murray when he had been born on the mining station of Cloud City, had been addicted to Glitterstim Spice for as long as he could remember, having been introduced to it by his parents, who had been similarly addicted. Though the chemical dependence sometimes made him have trouble concentrating and gave him shakes, he knew that the benefits of the drug outweighed the drawbacks. Rumours indicated that Glitterstim gave anyone who used it telepathic abilities, though they were often regarded as just that – wild fancies invented by dealers who wanted to draw more people into addiction. The truth was, that the rumours were entirely true, and it was the only thing that saved Jack’s life, as the killing intent of the New Republic soldier who had been sneaking up behind him was picked up by the wounded Stormtrooper’s drug-enhanced mind.

Before the trooper could bring his knife to bear on Jack’s unprotected throat like he had planned, an armoured elbow shot back and slammed into the man’s sternum, sending him sprawling and leaving him doubled over in pain for a few moments, desperately trying to catch his breath. It was all the time that Jack Murray needed, as he spun around and raised his rifle, the blood-red gleam of his bayonet showing that his E-45 Rifle was already graced with a melee weapon. Jack brought his weapon forward in a precise stab, just like he had been taught in the Stormtrooper Training Academy, and buried the serrated blade to its hilt in the base of the man’s throat, operating entirely on instinct. A gloved and blood-slicked finger squeezed the trigger of his rifle, and the man’s neck disappeared completely in a flash of bright red.

Crouching over the corpse of the soldier who had just a few seconds ago been about to end his own life, Jack Murray prised the man’s camouflage cloak from his shoulders and draped them around his own. Though his armour was stained by charcoal, mud, blood and all kinds of war debris, the white gleam remained, and Jack knew that it painted a target for any plucky New Republic snipers. His hearing returning, he heard the crash of footsteps coming from the nearby breach in the fortress’s walls, and dropped to a sitting position, his back against the fortress wall just beside the breach, where he had been standing, his other hand dragging across his throat to see just how much of the New Republic soldier’s blood he could plant there, trying to make the deception of a corpse. By the time the New Republic squad rushed through the breach, rifles raised, Jack Murray appeared to be just another corpse who had fallen trying to defend the wall.

There were six of them in all, obviously the closest squad to the breach, who had been rushed in to try and secure it. They sprinted past, rifles raised and alert to the slightest sign of danger. After about three seconds, the troopers started to loudly call ‘CLEAR’, until one of them, apparently their leader, made a gesture with his hand and the troopers turned to face the bastion within, turning their backs on the wall as it became apparent that no resistance remained. The leader raised his hand to his helmet, apparently about to send a message to command indicating that the wall was open here, when Jack Murray raised both his blaster rifles – his own E-45, and the rifle he’d taken from the New Republic soldier. He couldn’t allow that transmission to be sent.

He lined up the crosshairs of his E-45 on the sergeant’s head, and those of the New Republic rifle – it looked like a captured Imperial DH-17 Blaster, the kind commonly used by Navy Troopers – onto the head of the farthest trooper, knowing he might as well take the most difficult shot whilst he had time to aim properly. When he was satisfied that he would score a hit, he pulled the triggers of both weapons, and smiled as a pair of bright red laser bolts shot from the muzzle of each weapon and immolated the heads of their respective targets in a single, beautiful instant. Double headshot, and he was pleased. Not that he had time to be.

He was less picky with his next shots, aiming for center of mass. Two more of the New Republic soldiers dropped before they had time to turn to face him, smoke trailing from an impact crater in their backs. The fifth fell before he could bring his rifle to bear, a shot piercing his lung and leaving him gasping for air. The final trooper, however, had time to fire a shot. Just one. A pair of green laser blasts spurted from the double-barrelled cannon, which seemed to be an old Naboo model, and put a blast crater in the wall just beside his head – and, to his surprise and pain, into his left shoulder. The soldier didn’t get to fire a second shot, as two blaster impacts hit him in the back, and he crumpled without a sound. Jack looked up as a third flash of blasterfire ended the life of the wounded trooper on the ground.

Ten Imperial Army personnel, garbed in the brown uniform and distinctive helmets of their division, took cover behind the makeshift barricades and next to buildings on the other side of the clearing, blasters raised. They didn’t have time to greet him, though, as they poured as much blaster fire as they could through the breach in the wall – it was apparent that although Jack could not see it, there were more rebels trying to get through. Wonderful. He reached for his utility belt, and gave out a sigh of relief as he realized that his single Thermal Detonator was still there. He drew out the unassuming white cylinder and pressed the unmarked buttons in sequence, just as he had been trained, setting the timer and blast intensity. He rose to a standing position and held up the detonator for the Army troopers to see, before edging closer to the wall.

One of the Army troopers nodded to him, and Jack Murray tossed the grenade blindly through the hole in the bastion’s outer wall, before dropping down to a crouch, covering his ears and opening his jaw so that his eardrums didn’t burst with the shockwave that he knew was coming. One second ticked, by, then another. After that, though, the deafening blast ripped through the breach in the wall and obliterated everything there – rubble or New Republic soldier alike. The moment the blast sounded, he took off, sprinting back towards the barricades that the Imperial Army troopers were hiding from. The shock of the explosion had killed most of the soldiers assaulting the breach and stunned the rest for a few precious moments, just like he’d hoped, and he leaped over the barricades just as the first, scattered shots of return fire whizzed past, over his head.

He turned to face the nearest Army trooper, an eyebrow raised as he took stock of the situation around him.
“Things are bad in the front gate – we’ve had to seal off this section to keep ‘em from spreading. What’s the situation over here, Stormtrooper?”
Jack Murray turned to face the breach in the wall and raised his rifle, sighting down the scope. The thermal detonator had cleared away the rubble from the collapsed wall that the New Republic troops had been using. Now, the breach in the wall was nothing other than a trap to funnel the enemy troopers into a cramped firing range, where they could easily be picked off by the Imperial Army troopers. The troopers were taking full advantage of the opportunity provided, and what had threatened to be a rout was starting to become a slaughter. Jack centred the crosshairs of his rifle over the head of an enemy trooper sprinting through the breach, but before he could pull the trigger, three shots punched into the man’s torso and took him down. It was clear that the Army had the situation well under control – for now, at least.

“One of your mates panicked and set off the mines too early. I held ‘em off till you could arrive, though. Got a comm? I need to contact my squad.” He replied, forced to shout over the storm of blasterfire that erupted as the Army Troopers finally finished hooking a T-21 heavy repeating blaster to a small fusion generator, allowing them to boost its rate of fire to ridiculous levels. Jack watched in awe for a second as a veritable stream of laser-fire poured through the breach in the hole, cutting down anyone who even came close. He smiled grimly and lowered his rifle – unless the New Republic could get armour support, this opening was well and truly closed. After a few moments, a nearby Army Trooper ran past, carrying a headset, and handed it to the Stormtrooper, who looked fierce in his now mostly-red cloak. Taking it with a nod of thanks, Jack nodded to the Army Sergeant.

“If you’ve got any explosives, get some men near that breach and plant ‘em there. When enemy armour comes – and it will, blow ‘em when the vehicles’re filling that breach. With luck, we can block it off.”

The Sergeant nodded, and made a hand motion to two of his men, both of whom seemed to be equipped with large mines. A last-ditch weapon, probably, but if used intelligently, it could be all that was needed to plug the breach in the wall. Jack raised his rifle and started to fire shots at the breach – hoping to aid in keeping the enemy’s heads down as the two troopers leaped over the barricades and sprinted for the breach, already arming the mines. The dropped prone when they reached the walls, and carefully lobbed the heavy mines into the breach, under the fullisade of fire that was pouring through it. Then, they began the sprint back. With so much fire coming their way, there was nothing that the New Republic troopers could do to stop them, and they made it back without incident.

“TK-2301 to Blackjack – bastards blew me clear off the wall before I could fall back. South-South-East corner is breached, I say again, SSE Corner is breached. Army’s got the breach covered and AT-mined, so consider it closed. No way I’m going to get back to you guys in time – we’re cut off. I’ll try to scale the wall and see if I can at least give you some cover fire from there. Over.”

He placed a gauntleted hand on the Army Sergeant’s shoulder, and with a nod of thanks, sprinted off towards the nearest ladder – if he could get up on the wall, he’d have a clear run to the gate. Even if he was stuck on the wrong side of the main enteranceway, he could provide some sniper cover for his squad – it sounded like they needed him more than these Army boys.