"LS Six, this is Jester Six. Any news on those tanks?"

  "No sir," replied Darak, "I've been carrying out your orders."

  "Well, I want you to focus your armor on those tanks, see if you can get rid of the more distract them," Garet paused.

  "Alright," was all Darak had to say to that. Tanks. I hate tanks. Hopefully the greenies won't die today.

  "You hear that, Landslide Six?" Garet asked to the quiet Ruvo. "I want you to focus on the exits of the dome, but if LS needs backup make that your priority."

  "Yes sir, Jester Six."

  Looking at his radar, Falarco looked at the five blips attacking his squad's position. Due to the surrounding forest, it was harder for the walkers to maneuver. In an open area, Lightning Strike would have no difficulty, due to their mastered skills, but now they were taking a beating. "I've had enough," Falarco spat out, as a stray laser shot glanced off his walker's side, leaving a scorch mark slicing along its length. Switching to his squad's frequency, he ordered, "Eight and Nine, light up the surrounding area, it's getting a bit dark. Five and Six, let's get some foot room, shall we? Two and Three, on me."

  As a well oiled machine, the squad followed their leader's orders instantaneously. Two walkers stepped out from behind the trees and into the open area surrounding the dome structure. A moment later, bright jets of flame leaped from the light twin blasters, looking for the entire world like to goliaths disgorging their vile breath into the woods. As the inferno hit the forest line, the woods seemed to instantaneously erupt into a blazing conflagration, spreading out into all directions. Knowing that if the flames weren't stopped they would cause mass damage to the surrounding area for miles, Falarco had given the two other walkers in his squad precautionary orders in the event he ever asked for a forest blaze. Both cannons blasting for all they were worth, two walkers blazed a fire block in a semi-circle through the woods, using the distraction the two fire spewing At-Sts were giving them.

  Grinning, Falarco pushed his throttle to the max and came rushing out of the woods as two of the tanks fell into his third trap. Thinking the two flame walkers were the main threat, the tanks had entered the open area around the dome and were opening fire on the walker's position. Getting a target lock, Falarco, launched one of his concussion missiles directly into the side of the first tank. Two other missiles streaked by his walker as Two and Three launched their missiles as well, impaling the second tank in the cockpit and engines. Erupting into a magnificent explosion, the fire ball of the first tank encompassed the second and gave birth to another inferno which lit the sky with their eerie glow.

  "Cease fire Eight and Nine and join up with Two and Three." Falarco ordered as he broke from the group and stopped his walker around to point at the forest, the dome at his back. The key to Lightning Strike's victories wasn't just their technical skill, but Falarco's strategies. With the blaze now enclosed in the semi-circle provided by his other men's work, the forest in a ten kilometer area was soon to be reduced to blazing cinders. Though the destruction of the area was unfortunate, three other tanks remained and the squad needed foot room. Plus, if anymore armor units arrived, the At-St's would need a place to engage away form the ground squads. A third blip was extinguished from his radar, informing Falarco that someone from his squad had finished off another tank.

  "Three, Six, Eight, and Nine, fire into our flames and get rid of some of the excess foliage that's left." Though the superheated flames from the first walkers had quickly reduced the area to a twisted black mass, it was still too cluttered for the walkers to easily move. Four bright streaks arced out from different area, penetrating the destroyed beauty of nature. A moment later, the noise of the explosions made a small thumping noise from inside Falarco's cockpit. Ashes and tree limbs flew into the air; whole trees tipped over and collapsed into others, causing their charred bodies to break apart into tiny cinders; and the four areas where the concussion missiles had hit were reduced to large pockets of emptiness, stark against the still blazing ground.

  "Yeah!" The voice of one of the newer recruits let out a whoop of jubilation as he destroyed one of the tanks. How long until he realizes he didn't just destroy a piece of machinery? Falarco wondered. And how long after that until he realizes he's going to have to do it again and again? Knowing it was supremely out numbered, the last tank decided to try to run. Flying into the burning inferno, it hoped it might lose its opponents.

  "Leave this one to me. Two take over out here. Eight and Nine, keep patrol along the forest perimeter around the dome. Three, Five, and Six, give support to the ground forces. Four, finish what you are doing and form wing with Two." Scanning the battlefield for any more areas where he might be needed, Falarco let his hands glide along the familiar patterns to make his walker move. Crashing into the still blazing area, Falarco felt the immediate rise in heat of his cockpit, and also knew he would probably have been roasted alive if his walker's systems had compensated for the change in heat.

  "Heh, heat's distorting my scanners. Can't figure out where you are by my radar. This guy is better than I thought. Though, not too good." Looking around at the surrounding area, Falarco could see a distortion in the pattern of fallen trees and burning areas, a clear path which the tank had followed. Since it was a repulsor tank as well, its repulsors on that kept it off the ground had also created a path through the fire on the ground through the ashes. Not too good at all. With a flick of his hand, he sent his walker turning to follow the path the tank had followed. Changing his weapon's systems over to both of his lasers, Falarco raced through the burning area, ignoring the heat the caused his vision to slightly blur with the water collecting in his unblinking eyes. He had learned that a blink was all it took to get killed.

  Bursting into a patch of forest which had been completely destroyed, leaving only a charred and black ground, he found his target. Twitching his wrist, he sent his walker dodging to the right, narrowly escaping the path of a missile. That just pissed me off more. Twisting his walker's cockpit, Falarco continued his forward movement around the area, while being able to target the tank. Moving around the area in a circle, the two vehicle's exchanged shots, but while the tank's shots went wide with desperation, Falarco kept hitting the tank's back engine compartment. It wasn't long before the toll was too high for the vehicle's hull to take, and Falarco's shots pierced right through to the engine, causing a chain reaction through out the tank. Arcing back out of the forest toward the dome, he didn't even bother to make sure the tank would explode, knowing it was finished.

  As he pushed his way through the simmering desolation his squad had caused, Falarco decided it would be good enough to fight in if the need arose. Since everything had been scorched or collapsed by the flames, visibility was good and nothing was strong enough to trip up the walker. Emerging from the area, Falarco joined Two and Three in their patrol.

  "All resistance at the front entrance has been squashed by Landslide and Lightning Strike." Rouchine's voice came through the comchannel. "Three, Six, and Seven have taken some damage. Three's left leg has been hit and his mobility is down fifty percent, and Seven has lost all weapon systems except her twin blaster cannon. Jester is currently dealing with the inside forces and whatever is at the back of the complex. Should we move to aid them at the back?"

  "Leave that to Eight and Nine. By now, they've probably made it around the building. If they need help, all they have to do is radio in to us and Eight and Nine will appear out of the forest." Falarco stated, slowing his walker to a stop at the front of the building again.

  "What are your orders then sir?" Rouchine asked.

  "You and Three hold tight with me here and guard the front entrance. Eight and Nine are doing what they are supposed to." Falarco opened to the squad channel, "Four and Five, clear out the rest of that patch we created." Glancing out his viewport, Falarco found he could almost see to the other end of the area. Good. "Six and Seven, keep a patrol out as well."

  "Roger!" A unanimous voice came through the speaker. With a grin, Falarco felt a rush of pride with his squad. They were becoming a trained unit, an almost single entity on the battlefield. Hopefully, things would turn out well at the end of the day. Hopefully.

(OOC Nothing much. Just thought I'd take care of those tanks. Been awhile since I've written really, so forgive me for any grammatical errors, and if anything is wrong with it that poses a problem for the story, Garet, let me know. )

-----------------------
Gunnery Sergeant Kairo
Platoon Commander

PC/GSG Kairo/2PLT/1COMP/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE [CDS][BoA][CoR][BC][CoV]

Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will be victorious in ten thousand battles.
You may forget the past, but it always has a way of haunting your future.
Men can die, but a symbol is eternal.

The light from above was shrouded out with the explosion of the grenade. Debris flew on top of and through the hole that led into the tunnels covering the route which Bravo had escaped from. Garet had labored breaths; that last surge of adrenaline had canceled out the numbing agent, resulting in a recurring surge of pain from the stab wound. Garet clutched his left arm and fell into the wall with his right, the clash of plastoid on concrete alerting his team something was wrong. Garet fell to his knees and took off his helmet, gasping for breath, as his team ran over to him.

Some one was pushing against his right side as he stumbled about, holding him up, though Garet couldn't tell who because his eyes were shut tight. The pain kept growing; it probably wasn't as bad as it felt, but after the numbness  it felt like the knife was going through his arm again. In his mind he was screaming, but the sounds coming from his mouth were gibberish. The air got heavier, and finally his knees gave in. His face slammed on the cold ground, following the rest of his body. The last thing Garet recognized was the creeping smell of  blood.

* * *

Garet slowly opened his eyes. An excess of light flooded the area around him which caused momentary blindness. He reached around for anything to help him sit up, but found nothing. His head was aching and he was dazed from what just happened. He closed his eyes again and tried to remember exactly what happened, but for some reason he was drawing a blank. After a few moments of amnesia, he opened his eyes again. His pupils adjusted to the light and he looked up to a sight which he had thought he would never see again.

The walls and ceiling were a warm, buttermilk color that invited him to wake up. An incredibly comforting mattress lay under him and clean, warming sheets on top. The weight of his armor was lifted, and none of his weapons were around. As much as he wanted to welcome the situation, he was alarmed by it. He jerked himself up to a sitting position and looked around. There was a single wooden wardrobe, a mirror, and a desk. A vent in the ceiling was pumping in cool air; air that was nothing like the warm climate of Atzerri. Much to his displeasure, it was soothing.

It was displeasing to Garet because he knew exactly where he was, but he couldn't possibly be there. It was his dorm at the Academy on Dantooine.

Garet turned his body to face the mirror, letting his feet fall and hit the ground. Another surprise. He was wearing a simple brown pair of recreation clothes from the Academy, very unlike anything he wore for the Empire. He had to make sure he wasn't imagining this. He stood up, and stroked his outfit. Real enough. The sheets too, felt real. But something told him it wasn't.

The door slid open like it always had when Garet pressed his hand on the panel, quick and silently. He popped his head out into the hallway. It was like nothing had changed. The assortment of lights and torches were still lit, the carpet which ran the length of the hall was clean and  smooth, but something was wrong. Where there was usually a few people walking about, there was no one. Dinner, perhaps?

Garet stepped out to investigate. Nothing could be heard besides the crackling of the torches. His bare feet made no noise against the plush carpet. Dorm after dorm was open with no one inside.

Before long, Garet found himself wandering into the entry hall, the largest room in the Academy. The enormous front wall (which was a giant window) poured light into the cathedral-like hall. Pictures of past Headmasters stared down towards Garet, watching him as he strode to the top of the grand staircase. A multitude of doors lay off to the left and right at the bottom, each leading to separate areas of the Academy. Going on his earlier hunch, Garet elegantly strode down the stair case and into the Mess Hall.

Empty. He tried the Training Grounds next. Desolate. The Graduation Chambers. Vacant. The Classroom Wing. Deserted. The Honors Hall. Vacated. The entire Academy seemed devoid of life. There was one place he hadn't checked, the Arena. He made his way slowly back to the top of the grand staircase.

Standing in front of Garet were two ornate doors almost twice as tall as himself. He had always felt intimidated be the hulking masses of wood, but proceeded anyways. Using most of his strength to push them open, he entered the darkness of the Arena. An odd smell filled the air, which Garet immediately noticed: it was the only thing that had changed inside the Academy. His eyes were just starting to adjust to the darkness when lights began to flicker on overhead. The scene was to Garet's complete horror.

Scattered over the Arena were the bodies of students, trainers, and teachers of the Academy, all mutilated and quite plainly, dead. Blood and other organic material  that should never be removed from ones body clung to the walls and floor, which Garet recognized as the strange smell. The entire room was a massacre. Garet walked forward in disbelief. This couldn't possible be real.

Someone coughed in the middle of the Arena. Garet looked up to see if something was moving. Nothing. Slowly, he shuffled his way to the center, stumbling over limb and sliding through blood. A disturbing pile of mangled bodies was placed in the middle of the room. He approached the mass of dead with caution, scared. As he came near, an arm moved. Garet hesitated to go and investigate who it was.

To his somewhat comfort, Garet found that it was someone he didn't recognize. The fingers were twitching, the chest was moving in and out, but he was stuck almost at the bottom of the atrocity. The man had short horns over the top of his head, turned red from blood, and black, ridged tattoos covering most of his face. A Zabrak?

To Garet's knowledge, the Academy only accepted human students and teachers. This person was a Zabrak, not to mention he looked a little too old to be a student, but Garet didn't know who he was. The stranger's mouth fell open, and a faint breathing sound could be heard. Garet leaned in closer. Is he saying something?

Perhaps he was, but he started coughing before Garet could understand. Startled, he jumped back. At the same time the lights started flickering on and off, giving the room an eerie feeling. Garet looked around just to make sure he didn't miss anything that might be dangerous. His heart was racing, for complete fear. The Zabrak had made him momentarily forget about the situation, but the glance around the gruesome scene brought it back to full perspective. Hearing the cough come back, Garet turned to the Zabrak.

Garet's heart stopped as he fell backwards. Standing no more then two inches in front of him was the Zabrak, clean and unharmed. Demonic, yellow eyes stared into the petrified Garet, and a black tongue licked the lips of the tattooed face. Garet tried to crawl away, but only slipped on the bloody mess that was the floor. Slowly, almost like he was enjoying the moment, the Zabrak reached for a sword that hung at his side. The blade glinted in the dim light as he raised it above his head. Panicking, Garet struggled more and more, but couldn't get any where. Smiling, the Zabrak swung downwards at Garet.

In an instant, everything became real.

* * *

Garet shot up screaming, with heart racing and mind exploding. He looked about him, saw the confined area of the tunnels, and fell back down to the laying position. In the commotion, his three troopers came running to his side.

Making sure this world was real, Garet felt around his body. When he moved his left arm, another surge of pain coursed through him. He laid staring at the top of the tunnel. One by one, the three troopers popped their heads into his view. Garet started to calm down.

"That... smell," he said. One of his troopers reached down and pulled something out of his nose. A bloody cloth. Garet reached up to his nose and rubbed his nostrils. Blood.

"You hit the floor pretty hard, sir," Raine said.

Garet sat up now, blood and hand rushing to his head. What a headache...

"Alright, what happened? Where are we?" Garet asked, getting back to the mission. He was still a little groggy and tweaked from his dream sequence.

"We haven't moved, sir. We thought it was too dangerous to split up or to leave you here, so we've just kept our eyes open."

"Thanks, Kenobi."

"What's now, sir?" Red said as he looked down the tunnel another time.

Garet reached up to RK, who pulled his Leader up.

"We need to get back inside."
 
-----------------------
Jester Squad
+ Advance Recon Commandos {ARC} +

SL/GSG Garet Daimun/1SQD/2PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA [ES2C]

Life is for the strong, to be lived by the strong, and, if needs be, taken by the strong. The weak of the world were put here to give the strong pleasure. I am strong. Why should I not use my gift?
-Zaroff, Most Dangerous Game

The dampness of the tunnel was palpable. The humidity kept rising as bolt after bolt was fired. Sweat was running down his face, he could barely see through the darkness, the smoke thick enough to suffocate a person. Anger fueling his every move, he could feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. Acting upon instinct and rage, it was the only thing keeping him from falling over and becoming another casualty amongst the dead.

It cannot end like this, it can't. His mind was spinning, thoughts of suicide and death filled his mind. He knew the chances of victory where forever lost. Bravo would die in these tunnels, a permanent grave. A grave marked with blood, a grave with which RK would soon call home, it would soon be over, unless by some miracle.

"It's over, we're not going to survive." The sound of Red's voice filtered through the battle, He knew the risk's yet something was keeping him going.

"Don't give up, they may keep coming, but we we're trained for this." RK knew the odds, but the odds were against them. Even if a miracle happened it still might be to late.

The fire continued, never ceasing. They were advancing, drawing Bravo back. Soon they were pinned, pirates surrounding them from both sides, they had no choice but to surrender.

"We have to give up, surrender or we might just call this place home."

"She's right, we have to give up!" Garet was screaming, the pirates didn't seem to care.

"What happens if we give up, but they continue firing?" RK was confident that they could beat them, but something told him to give up.

"Your right." Red pulled the pin from his last grenade, it was a fatal attempt, but it was worth a shot. He threw it towards the south, bodies flew through the air. The firing continued, but they were able to move. They kept moving backward, the firing wouldn't cease.

"Is there any limit to them." You could smell the blood, you could almost taste death, it was in the air, it was chasing them. There was no way to escape it. It would catch up eventually.

"Alright, here's the deal, were going to let them chase us, once we get far enough away, we will wait for them to catch up." Garet's plan wasn't going to work, it was to risky if they got a lucky shot while they were running they would all be dead.

"No, Garet think that might get us killed, we have to split up." RK paused to figure out how to do this, "Raine, you come with me, Red and Garet you go that tunnel, if we split them up it will be easier."

RK and Raine dashed down the next tunnel, while Garet and Red took the opposite. The firing had ceased but only for a moment.

"Alright, when they come back throw your grenade while I throw mine, that will get rid of them."

"What about the other's?" Raine retorted, she wanted to help, but she also knew her duty.

"Don't worry when we get these guys off our back, then we will help them."

The pirates advanced catching up with Raine and RK easily, they opened fire once they saw the gleaming white armor in there sight. "NOW!" they threw there grenades through the air, there was a moment of silence, then they heard the loud "Bang!" as pirate after pirate fell, a couple almost landed on them.

"Alright, let's go."

RK lead the way back through the winding tunnel, as soon as they got to the impass, they headed straight down the path Garet and Red took. Little did they know that reinfocments were following them.

Raine and RK opened fire, two pirates fell, face first. Blood gushing out of there heads.

"Don't move."

RK and Raine turned around to see another set of pirates, right behind them. They were pinned with Garet and Red just within reach. The last two remaining pirates hit the ground with more blood streaming beneath them.

RK was the first to open fire, probably the biggest mistake. They were pinned between the wall and the pirates, fire streaming again.

This is the end.

Then as if a prayer had been answered, the pirates fell one by one from behind. Bravo stopped as the pirates tried to defend there flank.

Once the final pirate fell, blood streaming out. There stood the gleaming angelic like armor, aiming at the final pirate.

 
-----------------------
Jester Squad

TRP/LCPL
RK/1SQD/2PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE

" I am the best at what I do. Only what i do isn't very nice." - Wolverine

"I missed the part where that's my problem"- Spider-Man, Spider-man:The Movie

"I have wept over to many graves." -Magneto, God love, Man kills.

The dome was a hub of activity now. The enemy seemed to have disappeared as Stormtroopers occupied the area, sifting through crates and starting to order them for removal. The tense and dangerous atmosphere was lost once Bravo had the chance to get a breather. Garet stood stupefied at the scene, gladdened, but stupefied that the situation was alleviated so quickly. The feeling was satisfying, but it was wrong. Garet's thoughts were interrupted by Clint. "Stay put, I'll address you in a moment," the unfamiliar SL commanded. Even the way Clint spoke made Garet uneasy.

There were other things to be taken care of, though. Garet gave a small signal to the three soldiers around him, telling them "at ease" and stepped aside himself.

"Alpha leader, this is Jester six. You alright?"

Silence.

"I repeat, Alpha Lea-"

"This is Alpha Leader," Phenix responded, delayed.

"What's the situation out there?"

"It's hell right now, sir. You're not going to believe this, but we've engaged the Republic with Landslide and Lightning Strike. There's gotta be at least a Platoon here, sir."

Overwhelming was the term that came to mind. "You say the Republic?"

"Yessir."

What the hell are they doing here? "Stay safe, but continue engagement. We've met up with our reinforcements inside the dome. We're preparing to extract the cargo."

"Sir, I don't mean to go over your head, but our only reinforcements were Landslide and LS."

This was true. Another thing to note of the situation. Just who were these Stormtroopers? Garet dismissed it as Clint called him back. "Jester six out."

Clint came over helmet-less and unarmed. His face was tight and unfriendly, and if Garet had a guess the reason why he was so uptight was because he was so ugly. Garet gave a a cough that was half laugh at the site of the Leader, which Clint pushed aside. "What the hell happened down there?" the disgruntled Clint demanded.

"Mind if we talk somewhere else?" Garet responded. Clint started to redden at the question answering his. They walked to an unoccupied area of the dome, away from both Clint's and Garet's soldiers. Echoes of work could be heard, but other than that the area was empty. Clint seemed to grow more agitated by the second as he now repeated his demand in a louder voice.

Garet stood silent for a moment.

"Well?" Clint asked impatiently.

"We were overrun," honestly.

"Don't get smart with me here; there were no troopers that far ahead of the main attack. You were in the tunnels before we even entered the dome..."

Garet tuned out as the gears in his head started clicking. It's not possible. It couldn't be possible. Could it?

"... I cannot tell you how far out of formation you were- who are you again?"

"Gunnery Sergeant-"

"Gunner Sergeant? I was informed that I was lead of this mission!" if Clint's face had been more red, it probably would've exploded.

"-Garet Daimun"

"Daimun?! I had no Daimun on my roster for this mission!"

Garet was sure of it now. In one swift motion he unholstered his pistol and pointed it at Clint's face.

"What the hell are you doing?! I'll have you court marshaled!" Clint now seemed panicky.

"Swear your allegiance!" Garet needed proof.

"You know my allegiance it's the same as y-"

"Swear it!"

"My allegiance belongs to Grand Admiral Thrawn!"

Garet pulled the trigger. A clean shot in the middle of Clint's forehead sent him to the ground. The execution meant nothing now. Garet had lost too much today to care; in a way he felt this was vengeance. Now was not the time to worry about this, either. He had to get out with Bravo without being caught.


OOC: Not the greatest, but let's get the ball rolling again.

-----------------------
Jester Squad
+ Advance Recon Commandos {ARC} +

SL/GSG Garet Daimun/1SQD/2PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA [ES2C] [IH]

Life is for the strong, to be lived by the strong, and, if needs be, taken by the strong. The weak of the world were put here to give the strong pleasure. I am strong. Why should I not use my gift?
-Zaroff, Most Dangerous Game