Governor Praite chose the wrong day for a stroll along the battlements. As he paused and leant forward to observe the level below he was almost dislodged as the wall shook violently. Fortunately he fell backwards and was quickly helped to his feet by his guards. He moved back to the wall and risked leaning out again to look down at the lower level. A cloud of smoke was rising from a location close to the mid-tier defensive wall. Whatever the explosion was it had gone off right under his nose as he has leant out before.

“Get me a report, now.” He spoke through gritted teeth into his com unit.

“Explosion reported in the north sector, lower tier.” Came the reply from one of the staff at Operations Control.

“I’m aware of that fact, get me details.” There was no response for a moment, the Governor heard blaster fire down below but couldn’t see through the smoke. Civilians were only allowed into the lower level, so he assumed someone had brought in a device to try and breach a wall.

“Sir, a small force of enemy soldiers just used an explosive charge to breach to mid wall.”

“Where are they headed, what’s inside that location?”

“They’re not headed in sir; they breached the wall to get out!”

“What?!”

“We’re in trouble here sir, the guard was just being changed and we’ve lost power to the perimeter defences. I’m getting a report that the prison cells have been raided. Sir, it seems they’re trying to break out some prisoners. We’ve lost power to the outer gates.”

“How did they get into my city?” Praite demanded. His sense of pride wouldn’t tolerate such a bold attack, literally under his nose.

“No evidence. We’re trying to muster enough men to stop them breaking out. You asked me to monitor Phoenix Company’s movements?”

“Yes, why?”

“They’re barracks aren’t far from the explosion, they’re on the move!”

“Their interference is the last thing we need right now, ignore them. Push the damn gates shut by hand if you need to, use a truck, just do not let those men escape!”



“Move!” Skarr shouted at the crowd in their way. He could see the glow of blaster fire ahead, but his squad had to cross a bustling civilian market place to get there. Terrified civilians ran back and forth and he was forced to shove one out of the way. They fighting couldn’t be more than a hundred metres away, so he checked his gear and found to his dismay that in the rush he hadn’t brought a single spare power pack. Back in the old days of regulation and routine he would never have made such a mistake; still there was scarce ammunition available these days anyway.

OOC:

Location: Bastion City

Short Term Goal: A team of Republic commandos somehow busted a group of freedom fighters out of Bastion’s cells. Unknown to use one of the men is a prominent figurehead for the Pioneer community. Chase them out of the city and away from the civilians.

Long Term Goal: They will be picked up by a speeder at the gates. Get a vehicle and chase them down before they can escape and retrieve the prisoners.

Useful Specs: 1.1 A2 4.1

Blaster fire bounced back and forth about the market, mainly from the side opposite Eclipse, tearing apart and demolishing everything from fruit to small trinket stands. A few stray beams of light managed to penetrate the surrounding infrastructure, bringing down a few electrical wires and weak scaffolding in puffs of smoke. The owner of an antique sword shop stayed loyal to his trade, huddling over his priceless blades and axes with upmost concern, motioning over to the fleeing citizens in attempt to get a buyer. A tarp overhead the desperate man caught fire and promptly shooed the man off with a terrified yell, dropping swords along the way.
 
  “Eclipse! We need to get them out of the city! Push them towards the gates!” Skarr commanded over the screams of the people.

  Each trooper took his position behind a stand opposite the waves of incoming fire. The past six months had been torture on Eclipse; so much so, in fact, that each and every trooper had become a completely different person. This battle and many others coupled with the lack of resupply and rest took its toll on the minds of the soldiers. Most of their armor, if even possible to wear, was blackened and took plenty of blows functionality wise, but it beat fighting in standard issue under-wear. Essentially the squad had turned into the time-corroded equal to that of a pack of steroid enraged boars.

  Taran took shelter behind a rather large clothing stand closest to the edge of battle. He squirmed and fidgeted with stress, holding back the urge to let out a bloodthirsty roar. The helmet that was ordinarily placed upon Taran’s held at all necessary times remained half melted and broken in a storm drain from another battle that even he couldn’t remember. Taran looked down to his belt and found that nearly all of his ammunition had been spent, and what was left behind was a single clip in his ash-caked rifle and a pair of nearly useless smoke grenades. Knowing the New Republic, smoke would only garner a shift in the location of battle and allow them to lay an ambush from who knows where.

  “Does anybody even know what a mag looks like anymore, let alone HAVE ONE?!?” Taran blurted out sarcastically. “Because it would just be the greatest possible coincidence if anyone just happened to have a clip for my rifle just lying around somewhere.”

  “Hardly anyone has a clip, Taran.” Skarr shouted. “Get yourself in line before I waste mine on you.”

  “Oh, it’s fine.” Taran snorted. “I’m really not concerned about my well-being or anything.”

  “Shut up and spot!” Shouted a trooper, though it wasn’t apparent who.

  Taran groaned annoyed and leveled his rifle above his stand quickly, clearly not worried about the plasma whizzing over his head.

  “There’s a couple guys.” Taran replied, scanning along the market. “And oh look! Ten guys sitting over there. I think they want to make friends with you.”

  “Location would be nice.” Balac grumbled in the coms.

  “Oh riiight, one would think that would be helpful.”

  Suddenly a bolt of blaster fire struck one of the support beams of the clothing stand in front of Taran and the wooden top landed on him with a crashing cloud of debris. Only Taran’s lower half remained visible for a moment until he let out a loud growl and burst out of the rubble, forcing shards of wood and plaster into the air. Taran leveled his scope on the commando responsible for the shot and fired, catching the rebel square in the center of his visor, sending his forehead back with a jerk. The commando slowly fell backward and slumped to the ground, pooling blood onto the sawdust splattered ground. Nine shots left.

  “Not there anymore.” Taran lowed.

  “Well that’s great.” Njall spoke up. “Now you can focus your attention on the other people that happen to be endangering our lives?”

  Skarr clicked his coms once and immediately everyone returned to silence, or at least silence among the sounds of blaster fire sailing over Eclipse’s heads.

  “Keep the crosstalk to a minimum, squad.” Skarr ordered. “If you all aren’t too busy, I think there’s some rebels out there that need a bullet implanted in them.”

  Though the rebels were understandably outmatched by the skill of the enemy that faced them, it was harsh reality that Eclipse was so malnourished yet remained without hunger. Nearly out of ammunition, will to continue, and desire to communicate with one another, the battle that lay ahead encouraged every trooper to call upon the entirety of his soul to win. Each shot a slim to none chance of being useful, each foe vanquished a monumental victory within itself. However, this was not unfamiliar territory for Eclipse, and every victory comes to the man willing to do the impossible.

  It could be done. It would be done.

Eclipse Squad pushed the Republic further down the streets, chipping away at the invaders one at a time. Skarr was sure that the Republic had no idea how unprepared Eclipse was. If they did, the Republic would have charged them already. But no, there was no charge. The street became a waste bin for debris and was cluttered with various objects that had been sold on the street only recently. The squad was soon to be at each other’s throats as ammo counters fell into the twenties. But Skarr smiled when the Republic disappeared down an alley, leaving their fallen behind.

“Quickly, now! Gather their ammo! And at least one weapon!” The squad ran forward, alert for an ambush. They quickly patted the bodies of the dead, looting for ammo. Only a few had a fully charged spare pack. Most of the others were halfway through their second clip. It was not the best haul they could have found, but it at least gave them some extra ammo. The spare clips were divided among the squad mates with two extra left. The extra clips were give to Balac and Taran, the most accurate troopers of the squad. Skarr would have taken one himself, if he didn’t have a secret weapon. Two, in fact. Hidden in a pack at his side, was his dual blasters, fully charged. He had kept them for a last stand, desperate kind of situation.

But this was not one of them. He gestured to the alleyway and the squad trotted over to the opening. Taran took one look into the alley and looked back at Skarr.

“Pfft, well I’m not going in there,” Taran said.

“Dammit Taran, you will pull your shit together and take point!” Skarr scolded. Taran was no longer the quiet, pensive man he once was. He had changed as had the rest of the squad. And it made Skarr even angrier. His squad was here because of the Vast Empire. That was the catalyst of change. The Empire had sent them to Thyveck in a useless gesture. A situation that could not be helped. And Skarr saw how petty all this fighting was. If Skarr ever left this planet, he was sure that this would be the end of his military career. But there was one motivator that would keep him in the Army.

Captain Havock had opposed the order to enter the Thyveck fight. And now she kept the squads together. Her job was the worst. Now that Phoenix Company was outside the chain of command, she was their boss. She decided where to allocate supplies and who got which mission. Havock had tried keeping them on track, trying to root out the Republic cells. She was the only person that Skarr would report to.

Skarr shook his head to clear it. Eclipse was moving down the alley. The Republic could be hiding anywhere down the side alleys. But the squad leader, believed they were still making their way to the outside of the city. After all, they had just broke several freedom fighters out of prison. The next step was getting them out of the city. And then:

“There they are!” Balac called. He was looking down one of the side alleys that led to the street again. The squad ran down the alley, weapons ready. They came out firing.

The truck collided with the speeder at top speed. The speeder was pushed to the side and rolled down an embankment. The truck popped up and flipped once, ejecting a few Eclipse members, and the truck slid to a halt. Several of the Republic commandos and prisoners climbed out of the wreckage of the speeder, shaking their heads.

Skarr came to and slowly looked around. He was lying in the cab, cable still hooked to the roll cage. His vision was blurred and he blinked his eyes rapidly. He could not see anyone else in the vehicle, but they were probably nearby. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a Republic commando, blaster pistol in hand, climbing up the embankment. Skarr’s hand went to his belt and he unhooked the grappling line.

Repositioning himself, he began making his way out of the truck. His rifle lay a few feet away. Skarr was bruised all over. No serious damage, but he had been injured several times in the past six months, and quite frankly, the pain added up. He crawled towards his blaster, inching slowly. The commando spotted him and teetered towards the crawling squad leader. His feet crisscrossed and he kept stumbling. He had yet to orient himself. The soldier just knew that there was still a threat.

Seeing the commando come closer made Skarr nearly panic. He summoned what little strength he could, gloves digging into the ground, pulling him along. It made Skarr angry and afraid that he might die this way. He did not want to die lying on the ground reaching for a weapon. The footfalls of the Republic soldier sounded closer now. The squad leader was now almost scrambling to his weapon. A boot flew out from the man and kicked Skarr.

What the commando did not know, was that he had just moved Skarr within range of his blaster rifle. The man stood over Skarr, pistol raising for the kill shot. Skarr’s hand closed on the rifle and he brought it up, pulling the trigger. The first shot hit him in the arm. The second shot blew the man’s jaw clean off. And the third shot came from the pistol, burning into Skarr’s side.

On any other day, Skarr would have been horrified at being spattered with blood, but he simply wiped it from his face. And slowly began to stand, hand gripping his side. Now Skarr could hear other shots as both Eclipse and Republic regained their wits. For now, the escape was stopped. But Skarr knew that it was down to a firefight now. The commandos would either be wiped out, or Eclipse would. From his belt, Skarr grabbed his headset. But he found it broken. He cursed silently and vehemently. He would now have to get one from someone else, but now he could not communicate with his squad.

Skarr looked out to where the shots were coming from, but it sounded like all around him. The rest of them could not have been thrown too far from the truck, Skarr thought. He decided to grab the man’s blaster and picked up his own rifle. Surveying the area, he decided he’d look around the wreckage a little more. On the other side of the truck was Balac. He was still unconscious, but Skarr was glad to see he was otherwise unhurt.

Balac came to soon enough and Skarr helped him to his feet. “Where is everyone else?”

“The best answer I can give is near here. We’ve got to link back up with them, so let’s go!” Skarr ordered. The two of them headed back onto the street and down the embankment. The speeder wreckage was empty, but people were firing nearby. Skarr and Balac turned that way in hopes of it being the rest of the squad.

OOC:

So the truck is wrecked, most of us were thrown from the truck. And so, we are split up. You're either alone or near someone else, and the Republic is looking around for you. Try and link up with the rest of the squad.

"Anybody here?" Jamasis asked through the comm. unit in his helmet.

"For a few more seconds anyway," came the reply. It sounded like Njall; it also sounded slightly shaken, with gunfire present.

"Where are you?"

"We got thrown a fair distance down the embankment when things went wrong. The remains of the speeder are visible to my right."

"You said we?"

"Other squad members, and plenty of Republic commandos as well."

"Me and Ani are coming." Jamasis gestured to Anival that they were going.

This wasn't like him. Or what he used to be. He had just had a conversation with somebody where his sentences were shorter. He had communicated with Anival without a twenty minute chat that strayed completely off the point. He had said what he had to say. He knew what to do, so he did it. And for the past six months, or thereabouts, since winding up on this planet he hadn't faced a single problem. No personal problems. No problems with the Republic, or the locals. Just solutions and survival.

That isn't like me. There has to be a cost, right?

He waited for several seconds, but unlike before there was no sarcastic, mocking reply.

Anival brought his attention back, elbowing him in the side.

"Commandos," Anival gestured towards a group of Republic troops partially concealed by their surroundings. "Firing at targets to our right, so probably us." Jamasis nodded and they made their way toward the other members of the squad.

Jamasis went low down to the ground with his rifle and fired some shots at the commandos, hoping to place them but ultimately missing, much to his disappointment.

“Everybody here yet?” he asked Njall, just a few metres away.

“Skarr and Balac still haven’t turned up, and I think someone else might be missing too. Broken comm. units aren’t helping to make this any easier,” he replied.

“Lets focus on not dying first though, okay?” Jamasis raised his rifle and fired another shot; missing again and being irritated by it, but not letting himself get frustrated. Then he would shoot recklessly, become more frustrated and run out of ammo in about a minute. Meanwhile Anival’s shot hit one of the commandos squarely in the chest, killing him outright. One of the republic soldiers fired a couple of shots that narrowly missed Jamasis, causing him to drop almost flat to the ground.

“I got lucky that time. Need to pay attention,” he muttered to himself. He rose back up a tad too soon and was greeted by several more shots, one of which hit his left hand, causing him to drop the rifle, before going to the floor again. As he tried to ignore the pain in his hand, he was fully aware that he had just been very lucky a second time.

The shot to Taran’s chest had done more damage than it had appeared. Although the brunt of the blast was taken by the hefty breastplate, the dispersed energy still sent shockwaves down Taran’s spine as he knelt at the feet of a rebel. His breathing was erratic and randomly filled with blood and mucus that spilled out of his half closed, half burnt and swollen mouth. The truck crash alone had taken its toll, but something was seriously wrong this time. Taran coughed and wheezed heavily, making a few rebels eager to butt him in the face with their rifles. He felt so ravaged inside that he couldn’t even give a challenging remark. Upon the third or forth bash to the head, he suddenly lost consciousness and fell onto the soft dirt… not moving.

  Skarr and Balac slowly inched their way up to where the group of rebels had the Eclipse in “custody”. Skarr held his binoculars to his eyes and grunted in discontent.

  “Looks like we got four hostiles…” Skarr quietly instructed to Balac, who quickly checked his magazine. “Five friendlies within a meter.”

  “You think we can take out two each?” Balac suggested.

  The rebel in charge stood in front of Njall, apparently speaking with him. The rather lanky rebel waved his gun about in front of Njall, who didn’t reel back in the slightest. From this position negotiations were merely a stall for time, and Skarr realized that they were the ones to save their lives.

  “Gunna have to be that way it seems.” Skarr huffed.

  The talks with the rebel weren’t going well. Njall kept trying to draw out the conversation for time, but the ever-growing temper of the commander was becoming a problem. His face was flooding red and veins popped from hi s shaped neck.

  “No, let me tell you.” The rebel snapped at Njall. “We’re getting our guys out of here, and I’m not going to let you get away to bring your Empire friends back here and find us.”

  Njall started to become uncomfortable with the likely result of any more time with this belligerent trash. “Look, you can let us go. You can have our weapons, what’s left of our ammo and armor. Maybe you can sell it for some drugs or something.”  The leader laughed at the compromise.
 
  “Who do you think we are? We don’t need Vast Empire crud to do what we do. Our suppliers make ten times better stuff than what you handle.” He leaned down and pointed the gun to the side of Njall’s head, pushing him slightly to the side. “And to be honest, nothing makes me feel better than watching Imperial brains splatter on the ground.”
 
  In that moment, the fear that should have invaded Njall’s body was unable to show itself. This campaign was quickly becoming the single most draining experience that anyone had to endure. Years of no rest without a hint of relief. Njall pushed his head against the end of the barrel that now sat upon his temple. It felt cool, calming even. All of this could be ended in a second and none of this would matter. No more trekking the galaxy for what seemed like decades. No more rooting out of every last being that went against the Empire. No more of this senseless militant agenda. Njall sighed deeply with a slight pang of relief, however something struck within his mind. He didn’t want to die this way, not with everything he had lived through already. This wasn’t going to happen, not with this piece of rebellious wankery. Njall balled his fists and the onlooking Eclipse troopers knew what was coming.

  The rebel leader didn’t even have the chance to pull the trigger.

OOC:

So I'm knocked out and potentially severely injured. Njall and the rebel leader have reached the limit of negotiation and something big is about to happen. Commence the action.

Balac watched in numb disappointment as Njall let the barrel press into his temple. Was he really going to let his life end that way? If one more of the squad died, Balac didn't know how he'd take it, especially if that one was one who shared some of his Mando heritage.

No, it has to be a ploy. Njall's head moved back against the gun, then his hands balled into fists. In response, Balac aimed at one of the rebels, placing his sights square on the side of his head. Beside him, Skarr did the same. They moved his sights quickly back and forth between the leader and one of the rebels behind him, getting a feel for the two shots, silently indicating to the other which one they'd each shoot.

With a flash of movement, Njall dipped his head back and grabbed the wrist of the leader, snapping his wrist with a quick twist, directing the blaster towards the stomach of the leading rebel. The resulting pressure set of the blaster, leaving a smoking hole in the leader's now charring belly. The leader screamed in pain with an odd wheezing scream, still standing, holding his smoking midsection. Balac and Skarr fired, two quick shots each, with more blaster fire spouting from the rest of Eclipse. The rebels fell, the leader with a brand new ear hole, abruptly cutting off the inhuman screaming.

Balac and Skarr quickly approached the group of Eclipse.

"How's Taran?" Skarr asked quickly.

Balac glanced at Taran. Blood was running from his mouth and pooling in the soft dirt in front of him. A few bruises marked his face, and his breathing was slight, filled with wheezes and bubbling.

"What happened to him?" Balac asked.

"He took a glancing shot to the chest. The plate took it, but it seems it hit him harder that I thought. Those damn rebels trying to smash his head in certainly didn't help any." Njall replied.

Taran opened his eyes slightly and coughed, clearing blood from his mouth, "Well, how does it look?"

"It's an improvement." Skarr remarked.

Eclipse chuckled, despite the situation. The group atmosphere lightened at the rare laughter.

"Can you sit up?" Skarr asked.

"Can, don't really want to." Taran responded. Taking off the chestplate he added, "Feels like I've been trampled by a bantha." He took a deep breath and winced.

Balac and Njall helped Taran into a sitting position. Jamasis and Skarr bringing some debris to support him.

"What do we do now? There's no way he can do anything in that state, and we can't just leave him here alone." Balac asked.

"Whatever we do, we need to do it quickly." Jamasis added.

OOC:

Decisions, decisions. Taran's got a bit of a problem, possible cracked/broken rib(s) maybe, head trauma from the pesky rebels hitting him in the head and a bit of internal bleeding. All in all needs medical attention. Leave him, take him?