Alpha Squad: Osha Sili

by shadowxander

Set in the world of Star Wars: Republic Commando, follow Alpha Squad into a high-action mission into the Outer Rim. Inspired by the Karen Traviss novels.

Alpha Squad: Osha Sili

Zewari, Istooine, Outer Rim, 375 days after Geonosis

At 0400 local time, the eastern hemisphere of Istooine was blanketed in quiet darkness. And for the Republic Commandos of Alpha Squad, that was just the way they liked it.

Two standard hours ago, they'd been inserted by LAAT/I gunship onto the outskirts of Zewari; a minuscule gathering of homes and other crude buildings, it barely managed to qualify as a village—even among the other small farming communities scattered across Istooine's countryside. Now the men of Alpha Squad were on their way out, their captured targets slung across their shoulders. Each was a person of interest in the recent bombings of GAR facilities on Coruscant. Special Operations had been tasked with bringing them in to talk.

Alpha Squad's sergeant, RC-4223—"Top" to his brothers—moved at the head of the team, DC-17 held at the ready for any last-minute trouble that might crop up on their way to exfil. Coming to a corner, Top gave the signal for the squad to hold. "I've got something." He craned his neck around the corner, spotting a lone man armed with a blaster. Three fast and silent steps later, the man had a commando-issue vibroblade sitting at the base of his skull. "Bad luck, friend. You got the wrong patrol shift." No sound came from the commando's fearsome helmet. It was just as well, the man was dead before he'd fallen.

The commandos made an easy run for the hills, Top now bringing up the rear. He was the only one of the four not to have a prisoner to carry and that left him to defend the squad. All seemed clear until the unmistakable bark of a Nek dog cut the night's silence.

Shab, thought Top, and things were going so well.

The Nek barked again before letting out a mournful howl. It had found the body.

Lights came on and the commandos could hear the voices of roused villagers shouting in Huttese. Once out of their homes, it didn't take very long for them to find the body of their fallen neighbor. It was only moments later when they found Alpha, sending quite a few blaster bolts their way.

"Sarge, I'm no linguist, but I understand a blaster when I hear one."

"So do I." Top gave RC-2319—affectionately known as "Breeze" among the squad—a shove to keep going as he fired off a few rounds to give the villagers second thoughts about pursuit. When they had all run for cover, Top fell in with the rest of Alpha. "Let's hope they didn't find the repulsortrucks hiding over the ridge."

"Let's hope there are repulsortrucks hiding over the ridge." said RC-2501—"Diver" to his peers.

* * *

It had been just before sunrise that Alpha Squad reached the repulsortrucks their local contacts had supplied. Each looked old but sturdy, painted almost the same color as the sandy dirt. They weren't very fast, but this was still more about stealth then anything at the moment.

The squad rode for an hour before Top ordered them to the side of the old dirt road. "Okay, Mack, you and Diver get the prisoners out. Ten minutes chow and 'comfort' break."

"Can do easy, Top." said Mack—RC-3629. He walked over to the cargo hold of the rear truck and unlocked the doors.

The three prisoners—all human, male, dark-skinned, and medium build—had their hands tied and made no effort to escape or assault their captor. Instead they simply sat there, staring at the intimidating T-visor baring down on them.

"Food. Water. Come on, come out." said Mack. He didn't usually ask twice, but these prisoners were only suspected; no point in being rude. "Come on out."

The de facto leader of the three-man group looked back at his two companions and gave each a brief nod. "Don't worry," he said in surprisingly good Basic, "God will protect you or he will shortly receive you."

Breeze flipped to internal, squad-only comms. "Oh fierfek…religiosities."

Top cleared his throat loudly over the comm. Breeze got the message and shut up.

The prisoners climbed out and were seated on the side of the road. Mack didn't take his Deece off of them. No point in being rude, but there was no point in being stupid either.

"Diver, run and do a quick recce. Let's make sure nobody else is dropping by for snacks."

"On it, Sarge."

After watching Diver go until he was out of normal sight, Top set down his Deece and took off his helmet. Istooine was usually dry and hot, but the early morning air was still cool from the previous night and refreshing on his face. Breeze took off his helmet too, and Top found it interesting to watch the prisoners' reactions upon seeing their shared face.

"Are you brothers?" asked the Basic speaker.

"We are." Top hadn't given it a moment's thought, despite knowing full well what the man had meant. It doesn't change the answer.

Breeze went to the front truck for a moment before returning with flimsi cups and a water canteen. He handed one to each of the prisoners, one to Top, and kept one for himself. Mack needed his helmet's HUD sensors and the comm to Diver, so he'd have to wait. The water wasn't very cold but it certainly helped cure a dry mouth.

"This water is much appreciated."

Top looked over the rip of cup in mid sip, trying not to let his surprise show on his face. "I'm glad you approve."

"Of course, it would be better if you were my guests in my village. The water is purer."

Top raised an eyebrow and couldn't resist the small smirk that forced its way to the surface. "What's your name?"

"Dhafiir."

"Your Basic is very good, Dhafiir."

Dhafiir nodded softly to himself but said nothing for a moment. He took another drink from the cup, then looked up at Top. "Sir, I thank you for this water but now I would know what you are doing creeping across my planet at night, kidnapping honest men from their beds."

Mack gave a small chuckle only he could hear in the confines of his helmet. On the outside, the commando looked silent and steely.

Top took a deep breath. "There are people who wish to speak to you."

Breeze dropped a ration bar in each of the prisoners' laps, munching on one himself as he watched the exchange in silence. Despite his talkative and light-hearted attitude with his brothers, Breeze would've told these men to shut up and eat if he were the sarge. These were possibly enemies—definitely not friendly, but only possibly enemies—but it was up to the sarge how much he wanted to humor these di'kute.

"This is their form of invitation?" Dhafiir waved his bound hands in front of him for Top to see, as if he hadn't noticed they were tied up. "To steal us from our homes, to terrify our families, to kill our kinsmen? This is civilized behavior? This is honest discourse?"

Top's expression of casual pleasantry turned glacial. "Is it civilized to bomb innocent people?"

"Most certainly not."

Breeze chewed to a halt. The man looked genuinely disgusted by the idea. Then again, Breeze wasn't a big fan of holovids, but he'd seen his fair share of good actors.

"Well, there's a war going on," Top continued, "and these people wish to speak with you about certain things."

"And they think I know about these certain things?" asked Dhafiir.

"Supposedly so."

One of the other prisoners raised his cup. "Coo…could I has moh warter?"

Clearly Basic wasn't as common among these parts as Dhafiir could make it seem.

"Stick to Huttese, pal." said Breeze, but he refilled his cup and the cup and the cups of the others. Top declined a refill.

Dhafiir decided to try again. "Sir, have you seen me or any of my people on your planet waging this war you speak of?"

"I don't have a planet, I serve the Republic. And people have attacked it."

"My people have attacked your Republic?" Dhafiir was pressing closer to outrage now. "Men from my village, my tribe, my clan, have come to your Republic and attacked your people? Sir, when did this vile event take place?"

Alpha Squad's sergeant just stared down at the man, his look more contemplative then contemptuous. "Others like you have done so, on others like me."

Dhafiir sighed heavily. "I see. Men who live in houses made of stone—not permacrete—simple men who spend their lives tending to their nerf herds and crop fields. Men such as these have attacked the most powerful government in the galaxy?"

"It has happened."

"Sir, I think you are a very fearful people. And I think you are being misled."

Top spotted Diver on his way back in his peripheral. "And I think this conversation is about done."

"Why do you not release us?" Dhafiir sounded almost as though he were begging. "That way we can return to our homes. And you can do the same."

"I have no home." Top surprised himself. For ten years, Kamino had been home. For the last year after being deployed, Arca barracks had been home, hadn't it? Wasn't it? "I do, however, have a job to do."

"You do this job without thought? Huh? Without conscience? What sort of man acts in this manner?"

Mack watched as Top drew himself up to full height, tightened his jaw, and crushed the flimsi cup in his hand.

"I'm a soldier."

"That is not an answer."

"And this is not the time for debating politics." Mack said, stepping in for Top. He beat Breeze to it by mere fractions of a second.

They both knew that the sarge struggled with his conscience constantly, burying ethics beneath duty like most clones do. They also knew that their sergeant was a talker and tried to befriend everybody and everything short of the tinny trying to shoot his head off. Breeze like that about Top. It kept the squad together in those tough times when it seemed like it ought to fall apart. That didn't mean it stung any less when it got thrown back in the man's face.

Mack and Breeze got the prisoners on their feet and shuffled them back toward the repulsortruck's cargo hold. Top turned to Diver who had just made it back to the rest of the group.

"Pass is blocked up ahead." he reported before Top could even ask.

"Shab!" Like his conversational tendencies, Top was more prone to swearing then most other squad sergeants. "How serious?"

"I count twelve men and a heavy repeater."

"Which way are they oriented?"

"This way." Diver shook his head. "Overwatch, good dispersal. Repeater has good field of fire. They know what they're doing, Sarge."

"Perfect." Top said dryly, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip as he thought. "Vehicles?"

"One big repulsortruck and a couple of speeders, all cannoned up pretty unfriendly-like."

Top sighed and grabbed his helmet from the ground, sliding it one-handed into place. Maps and charts of the area filled his HUD with a pair of blinks. "Breeze, bucket on. You're gonna want to take a look at this."

Mack locked up the hold's doors as Breeze put his helmet on. The rest of Alpha linked to Top's map charts and each got to see the problematic situation they were in.

"You sure there's no way around, Div'ika?" asked Breeze.

"Principal route is blocked." Top didn't wait for Diver to repeat the results of his recce.

"That's the only way across the border to the base camp and our ride." said Mack.

"How about we detour north, make the crossing here?" Breeze selected the new potential route with a couple of rapid blinks.

"These crates don't have enough fuel." said Top.

"Well, we need to do something." said Diver. "With comms out to Nobility—long-range comms out in general thanks to the Sep's jamming station—I don't see us having much choice."

"What about here?" Mack changed the map view again, this time to a small base not far from their position. "Support base, the one Alpha-19 was supposed to set up with local trainees to aide the 101st."

"Not much there," said Breeze, "just a little local color packing DC-15s."

"More then what we've got here." Top looked over the map again, then nodded. "They'll have fuel, ammo, and maybe a few half-decent troops. Can't imagine an ARC trooper being stuck someplace like this without teaching these guys a thing or two about proper soldiering."

"Better then nothing, Top." said Mack.

"Oh good. Now that we know where we're going, let's get there! Check out all the fun headed for our shebs!" Breeze pointed a klik or two up the road at the telltale dust cloud that meant an incoming speeder.

"All right, let's mount up." said Top. "Shift it!"

There was a loud bang on the wall of the cargo truck's hold. "This can be avoided!"

How did he know? The whole conversation had been on internal comms, silent to the outside world. Or is he just trying a new approach?

Dhafiir was smart, that much Top knew for sure.

"Release us and save yourselves! They will surely come."

Diver took two steps closer and pounded back on the wall of the hold. "We'll take our chances. Your village is a small one."

"But our clan is many."

* * *

Less then five minutes later, all four commandos were wishing these repulsortrucks could do better then 40 kliks per hour. The enemy speeders were catching up.

"We've got another one with us!" Diver shouted.

"We noticed!" Mack called back.

Those two were in the open-backed truck now in the rear, firing off blaster rounds at the approaching speeders. Top and Breeze were in the front truck, the prisoners in the hold behind the cab, but they were getting just as nervous as the others.

"Support Base Osha Sili, this is Alpha Squad," Top said over the long-range comm frequency in his helmet, "Osha Sili, this is Alpha Squad. We are nearing your locations with hostile force in pursuit." A pair of blaster bolts skimmed the top of the cab. Top drummed his fingers on the side of his helmet, a frustrated habit from back on Kamino. " Support Base Osha Sili, this is Alpha Squad. My team consists of two vehicles. I will flash you the visual friendly signal when we come in sight. Go to 100% security, I authenticate: GAR-Arca-Alpha."

Diver launched another spray of blaster fire over the bed of his truck as Mack grimaced at the controls. "Keep it steady, ner vod. I'll give 'em some pretty lights to look at." Diver locked in an anti-armor round and fired it at the nearest incoming speeder. There was a decent-sized explosion, but both speeders kept coming. "Osik! They've got tough armor!"

"Swing left, 30 degrees!" Top ordered.

Breeze jerked the steering yoke to the left

"Hold on!" yelled Mack, following suit as Diver tried to stabilize himself on a crossbar.

"How far to the camp?" asked Breeze.

"Just behind that field mass." Top replied, still trying to get in contact. "Osha Sili, this is Alpha Squad." After another response consisting of nothing but static, Top banged his fist on the forward console and grabbed his Deece. "Shab! No good! Long-range comms are still dead."

He stood up, turned around, and fired.

Support Base Osha Sili, Istooine, 375 days after Geonosis

Sergeant Walce walked leisurely between the two-ton durasteel shipping containers that made up the base. Most of his men lounged around their armored speeders, their casual conversations the only real sound on a quiet day like today. It'd been quiet in camp since Lieutenant Corvo had been reassigned to aide the other clones of the 101st, not that Walce didn't mind a break from the ARC's seemingly endless order-barking.

"Hey," said one of the soldiers under his command, "that sound like speeder drives to anybody else?"

Walce shrugged. "Probably the clone on his way back to—"

"Blasterfire! Blasterfire!" The outer sentry was right; blasterfire cracked across the midmorning quiet and was only getting louder as it drew close.

Sergeant Walce grabbed his rifle—one of the DC-15s the Republic had shipped in with the clone battalion—and raced for the front of the camp. "Go! Go, go, go!"

A tan-brown repulsortruck came barreling around the hillside, followed shortly by another. Two armed speeders were right behind them; from this range it was impossible to see who was shooting at who, but Walce knew there was a whole mess of trouble headed into his camp. Rather then take any chances, waving it back and forth.

Bolts of energy struck the closest approaching vehicle's front section and someone yelled, "I got 'em!"

A moment later though, someone in the truck's front seat threw up a big, bright orange flimsi-plast card, waving it back and forth.

"Hold! Hold!" Walce yelled. "That first truck's friendly! Switch fire!"

The soldiers turned their attention from the forward truck, aiming now at the other three. Just as the confirmed friendly raced into camp, the truck behind it spun around and dropped into the dirt, repulsors damaged. Two bulky figures jumped out of the cockpit and took cover behind the downed craft, joining the base soldier's attack on the remaining speeders.

One of the speeders crashed after taking a grenade hit; the passengers jumped out and made a run for the other speeder. Only two of the nine made it. Deciding they were thoroughly outmatched, the attacking militia turned their speeder around and made a hasty retreat.

While the base soldiers continued to lay down fire, the two bulky figures made an eased run for the camp and—Walce assumed—their comrades.

The two from the first truck jumped out of the cab, all cold grey armor and blaster-carrying unfriendliness. Walce didn't like the look of them; even if they knew the signal, now that he saw them up close, they weren't wearing the same armor as Corvo.

"Who's in charge here?" one of them asked. Standing as close as they did with their helmets on, Walce couldn't tell which of the two had spoke.

"Who wants to know?" he asked, putting on his best angry officer face.

Before either of the armored men could respond, a short, thin woman in the same meager body armor as the others, came around the corner of a shipping container at a brisk pace. She eyed Walce testily before facing the newcomers.

"I'm Lieutenant Beilee, camp commander in Alpha-19's absence. And you are?"

"RC-4223, Sergeant, Special Ops Command." said one of them, stepping forward to give a rather stiff salute. "I've got prisoners that I need to turn over to our ship, Nobility."

The lieutenant looked suddenly uneasy. "Uh, Sergeant RC-4…"

"The name's Top, ma'am."

"Sergeant Top, this is a log base. I'm afraid I can't take the prisoners off you hands."

"Comfortable in there?" someone said from behind Top, Top turned to see two of the base soldiers antagonizing the prisoners in the hold. "Come on out!"

"Leave the prisoners alone." Top didn't raise his voice—Beilee assumed Top was a he under that armor, like Corvo—just glared at the two men with sinister blue-lit T-visor. They seemed too shocked to bang on the hold doors anymore, but didn't move away either. Top turned back to Beilee and now fixed her with the cold, blue T. "Lieutenant, tell your men to get away from my prisoners."

"Get away from there, you rockheads!" Walce snapped, walking over and giving each of his men a shove. "Back to your positions." When they'd walked off, he turned back to the armored sergeant. "Sorry, Sergeant. This is the closest they've ever been to live hattis." He looked the two men over for a moment. "What are you guys, Sergeant? Some kinda special troopers?"

"Commandos." answered Top, not bothering to elaborate. "Lieutenant, you should get your troops back here. The ground is crawling with militia."

Walce spoke up again. "I'm in charge of security here, Sergeant. These are my reaction team who not only covered your outfit, but are capable of taking care of themselves."

"No doubt," said Top, "but give them the recall. They don't know what's out there."

The other commandos had arrived and together the four formed a veritable wall of immovable, silver-grey armor.

Walce chewed it over for a moment before nodding. "Blaylok, raise Oraless on the comm. Tell him to turn back."

Blaylok—a man even shorter then the lieutenant and with less fight in his eyes then a Sundie kitten—sort of froze. "The CIS is still…what if I can't—"

"Just do what I say!" Walce snapped again. It certainly worked to unfreeze Blaylok, though Lieutenant Beilee eyed him irritably again.

"Ma'am, I need a place to hold the prisoners until I can turn them over." said Top. "You got a secure spot for that?"

"Uh, there's the sensitive items cage in the center of camp." The lieutenant spoke to Top's back as he want around to the rear of the truck, undoing the locks on the cargo hold. Seeing she wasn't going to get a response, Beilee turned back around to the base soldiers. "Uh, Kamers, show these men the cage."

Top had glanced around the corner of the truck unconsciously, but what he saw brought him fully into the moment. Kamers—thickset, light-skinned, and balding—had been sitting on a dirt mound since the end of the firefight and was now using his rifle to ease himself up like he had all the time in the world.

Top didn't. "On your feet, soldier, when an officer speaks to you!" Kamers was on his feet and at attention in an instant, as if his entire body had been spring-loaded by that booming voice from the helmet's audio projector. Top turned to his commando squad. "Mack, take the prisoners to the cage. Put a guard on them."

"Done." was the commando's only reply before getting right to it.

Top looked around slowly before settling his gaze on Lieutenant Beilee again. "Ma'am, is there a place where you and me can talk?"

Shipping container 1-9, Support Base Osha Sili, Istooine

Top walked into one of the half dozen containers that made up Osha Sili base, this one used for a mess by the looks of it. The lieutenant went straight for the stimcaf machine.

"Cup of caf?" she asked.

"It'd be much appreciated, ma'am."

Top laid his Deece on one of the tables and reached up to remove his helmet, popping the seals with a faint hiss. The lieutenant stared at him for a moment as he lifted it off his head and set the old bucket down next to his blaster.

"You look just like Corvo." she said.

"We are clones, ma'am."

"Oh, yeah, right." She looked a little embarrassed. That in turn embarrassed Top, for embarrassing a commanding officer. "Guess I never really thought it through." Beilee handed Top a cup and eagerly took a sip. "Nothing as good as a bad cup of army caf."

"You should taste what I was raised on." said Top. Those weren't fond memories.

"Yeah, Corvo told me about some of it."

Top took another sip, followed by a deep breath and looked Beilee right in the eye. "A divided command is a dead command, Lieutenant. What would Corvo do if he were here now?"

Beilee swallowed. "He'd take charge."

"Then do it."

"I only have my supply and support troops. Just twenty of them. Walce has the platoon Corvo charged with camp security." Beilee said defensively. "You've seen what he's like."

"Mm-hmm. You got stuck with all the bums, a bunch of malcontents with a piss-poor sergeant in charge while Alpha-19 was retasked. But Walce is subordinate to you. You're the one in command."

"He doesn't believe it."

"'Cause you don't either."

"He drags his feet on everything I tell him!" she said bitterly.

"You act like an officer, he'll act like an NCO. He doesn't have to like it, just has to do it." Top never raised his voice and never broke eye contact, just like his old training sergeant on Kamino. He was about to go on when static buzzed from his helmet.

"zzttzz—hit. We've been outflanked!"

"He didn't recall that patrol!" Top exclaimed. "Osik!"

"zzttzz—closing in on us! Oraless is dead! Heavy repeater—zzttzz"

He snatched up his helmet and dropped it over his head, grabbing his Deece on the way out.

"Alright you two, on the ISP! Get your kriffing rears on there now! You too, Blaylok!" Walce ordered, directing his men to the Infantry Support Platform speeder.

"Hold it!" Top shouted. "Nobody goes out!"

Walce wheeled around, glaring at Top. "Those are my men out there!"

"And now they're dead. Or they're playin' dead. But if you go out there, you're just gonna add to the body count."

Walce came striding around the ISP toward Top with the aire of a man ready for a fight. "Stang it, I am not gonna just sit here and watch as my men sit out there and—"

"You'll be at ease, Sergeant!" Top barked. Walce stopped yelling, but didn't back off. "I told you to recall those men. By now, hundreds of militia are swarming those hills. They lured your men into a hasty ambush. You follow now, they'll do the same to you."

Walce just glared at him, jaw clenched tight, not moving a muscle. Top hoped the man wasn't trying to stare him down; it was a game you didn't win against a man in a helmet. Visors don't blink.

"Off the speeder, men." Walce said at last.

"But Sarge—"

"I said off the kriffing speeder, now!" The men complied, slowly. Walce looked back at Top with a fierce look akin to hate. "It was you who lured them in here on us. You and those stangin' hatti nerf herders of yours got my men killed."

Top hadn't even noticed him approach, but he had to grab Mack by the arm to keep him from Walce. Walce appeared to calculate his odds before turning to walk away.

"Kriffin' clones…"

"How many repeaters you got?" asked Top.

"What?"

"Repeaters. How many and what kind?"

Walce stopped and turned to face him again. "E-Webs your HQ sent over. The normal compliment for an infantry platoon, says Lieutenant Corvo."

Top did the numbers in his head. "That the only artillery you got?" He jerked his head toward the ISP. "Surely you've got one or two fighter tanks, too."

"One, and it's gone. Out with my patrol. Figured it'd be more useful on the attack. Keep the ISP here."

Top rolled his eyes and shook his head, but kept at it. "I need to see your fire support overlays and a copy of your barrier plan."

Now it seemed to be Walce's turn to be a little embarrassed, though this time some small part of Top enjoyed that. "It's not exactly a formal plan," he said, speaking more to the dirt at his feet then to Top, "It's more like…in my head, if you know what I mean."

"No, Sergeant, I don't know what you mean." said Top the instant the words were out of Walce's mouth. "What I see here is the results of complacency and inaction." It was pretty clear to Top by then that ever since Alpha-19 had been reassigned to the 101st's attack group, this lot thought they were on a vacation in armor. He also planned to cure them of that mentality. "What's the first priority of defense?"

Breeze and Diver glanced at each other, each a mix of slight amusement and serious disappointment. "These guys are sorry." said Diver.

"Yeah. What the shab was Alpha-19 doing out here all this time? Building the camp by hand?"

"Shh! I wanna hear what he's got to say."

Top nearly laughed out loud when Walce answered, "Security."

Instead he snapped back with, "Not much here, is there? But we're gonna change that, and we're gonna do it in a hurry. And you know why? Because come sundown, all those men are gonna try to get in here. If they get inside this perimeter, they intend to kill us all. It is as simple as that!"

Nobody moved and nobody spoke, everyone either staring at the hulking mass of silvery armor that had just tore them a new one, or down at their boots. Even Lieutenant Beilee—who seemed the most comfortable around the commandos—now stared in awed silence.

"Okay then." said Top, his voice now calm again, though it lacked none of its previous authority. "The lieutenant will issue a defensive order, most haste. Mack, go with Sergeant Walce and lay out a triangular defensive perimeter. When that's done, Diver, sight in the E-Webs. Breeze, check on the prisoners and get 'em under cover." Alpha Squad broke up, moving on their assignments with a respectful nod to their sergeant, one they each received in turn. Then Top looked to Beilee again. "Lieutenant, a moment?"

Center of camp, Support Base Osha Sili, Istooine

"E-Webs in pairs, mutually supporting here and here." Lieutenant Beilee pointed out positions on a large flimsi chart. "Until evening stand-to, we stay at 25% security with the rest of the troops working on defensive tasks. We go to 100% security at stand-to, and 50% for the duration of the night." The soldiers all nodded as the lieutenant surveyed them. She then looked to Top. "Sergeant Top, divide your team among the squads. As the senior NCO present—and by senior I mean clone, and the best soldier out of all of us—I place you in charge of the defensive work. Once you have the work underway, report back to me."

"Yes,+ ma'am." He gave an informal salute, then turned to Walce. "Sergeant Walce, I'm going to reconfigure your platoon. Give a senior team leader and all your grenadiers to Diver."

Walce nodded. "Right. Beiger, go with…Diver and round up the thumpers."

"Breeze, take a detail of two men from each squad and go to work on the barrier plan." said Top. "We don't have enough wire to cover everything in depth, so plug the natural avenues of approach. Shove the wire we do have out past thermal det range."

"On it, Sarge." Breeze walked over to the crowd of assembled soldiers and tapped two from the front row on the shoulders. "You, come with me."

Walce leaned in closer to Top. "You do that, we can't throw over the wire."

"The E-Web: final protective line covers the wire. This way the wire's out far enough the enemy can't throw grenades in on us."

Walce stepped back, actually looking impressed. "I see."

"Mack, gather all flares and place 'em in the CP. When you're done that, put another guard on the prisoners."

"Consider it done, Top."

Alpha Squad's sergeant took off his helmet and looked each of the soldiers in the face. They were scared, and di'kut could see that. "It's gonna be a long night. Until these comms come to life, we're on our own. No calvary's coming to the rescue. It's just us. But if we dig in deep, and work hard with the daylight we have left, I think everything will be all right."

***

Top walked slowly around the ditch being dug on the rear perimeter of the camp, just behind the dug out E-Web firing positions. Sandbags were piled at the edge of each to reinforce. A few meters ahead, Lieutenant Beilee stood overseeing the soldiers at work, DC-15 slung over one shoulder like the standard troopers Top had seen.

"Primary firing positions are complete, and the barriers are almost done." Top reported as he approached.

Beilee smiled at him. Top hadn't seen very many females, but he knew that the lieutenant wasn't exactly pretty by any typical standards. Thin-faced, with hair almost as short as his, Top was pretty sure she didn't have men stumbling over themselves with her feminine wiles. She sure didn't have the unnerving affect on him that his training sergeant had warned him females could have. That said, Top couldn't help but like her. She certainly seemed eager to perform, and even more so to please.

"Sergeant, I wanted to, uh, thank you."

Top also thought she said uh too much. A little more confidence would fix that.

"The men are working on the secondary positions. As soon as that's done, we'll construct the final fallback." he said. Top walked at Beilee's side, moving back into the center of the camp.

Beilee looked as though she were about to speak again when Sergeant Walce came jogging up. "Sergeant, ma'am, the containers are in position as you ordered."

"I saw," said Top with a nod, "Very good. I'm going to—"

That was as far as he got before repeater fire erupted at the front of the camp. Walce dropped to the ground with Beilee and Top behind him. He peeked around the side of the shipping container. "Oh kriffin' hell! It's our own fighter tank they're using on us!"

The other thing out there were soldiers—dead and wounded—stuck out there with no cover and no way back into the camp.

"We've gotta get those men out of there!" Top yelled.

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Diver and Breeze went charging by with a squad of base soldiers in tow. "Medic!" Diver yelled, "We're gonna need a medic!" The two commandos had a man over each shoulder, taking up the rear of the rescue squad amid pelting fire from the tank's roof-mounted turret. They were almost back under the cover of the base's shipping containers when two rockets came screaming down, hitting just behind Breeze. The explosion threw him into the side of one of the containers' durasteel walls. Mack was on the move in a heartbeat, pulling Breeze to cover and safety without a second's hesitation. The soldiers Breeze had been carrying were without his armor, and without his luck.

"Stay down!" Top yelled to the others, rushing to Breeze's side. "Shab! You okay, ner vod?"

A low groan seeped out of his helmet as Breeze sat up slowly, tenderly rubbing his chest plate. "Fine, Sarge. Katarn armor's my best friend."

Mack let out a humorless chuckle. "What's that make me?"

Breeze patted Mack's shoulder plate. "You too, vod'ika."

Another pair of rockets rained in, destroying the ISP and the rear half of the mess container in a cloud of fire.

"Sarge, we gotta take out that fighter tank." said Mack.

"It's out of range of everything we've got in camp, save out Deece's snipers. Even they aren't going to do a lot of good against that tank's armor."

"They'll take out the gunner on the top-mounted turret."

Lieutenant Beilee crawled over to the commandos. "Can we stop that thing?"

"We've got a pair of Plexes out in the truck." said Top.

Beilee glanced over at the repulsortruck on the other side of camp that Top and Breeze had come in on. "Let's get them, then. It's not that far."

Top shook his head. "Not that truck." He lifted his rifle and pointed out front of the camp. "The one out there."

***

Breeze took a heavy breath, one that was none too pleasant on his sore chest and abdomen. There were close to forty meters of repeater bolt-infested space between Alpha Squad and their PLX rocket launchers. A pair of them could take down a Saber-class fighter tank in a couple of moments with the right skill. Every member of Alpha Squad had the right skill; what they didn't have were the Plexes.

"Can't the E-Webs give suppressive fire?" asked the lieutenant.

"Not from here, ma'am. They're out of range. Good news is, they're out of rockets too or else they'd be shooting the osik out of us by now." said Diver, coming back from the camp's medstation. "Pardon the language, ma'am."

"Forget it, trooper. And who knew I'd be happy to hear Walce didn't restock the tank's rocket ordnance?" said Beilee.

Top almost smiled. "First time for everything." He looked to his squad now. "We've gotta get those rocket launchers and put that tank out of action. That's a long run."

"Ain't gonna get no shorter, Top." said Mack.

"We can throw smoke." Beilee suggested, looking to each of the commandos for approval.

Top chewed his lip again, weighing his options, then exhaled sharply. "Have at it."

Mack and Diver were on the move almost instantly, making their way around the container providing cover. Breeze badly wanted to join them, but that hit had ensured he'd be resting for the next hour or so.

Diver stood at the edge of the container, peeking around the corner cautiously. "This is one of those times, ner vod, when I wish we were cloned from somebody a little shorter. Smaller target, y'know?"

Mack laughed. "Yeah, right. When we get back to Triple Zero we can tell Zey the Republic needs Ugnaught clones for spec ops."

Now Diver laughed too. "That would be some armor. One size fits all kind of goes out the window, though." He swallowed harshly. "Ready?"

"You don't want to wait on the smoke?"

"Wind's blowing the wrong way."

"Might hold their attention for a second or two."

Diver shrugged. "Fine. What's ten more seconds, right? It's not like those militia chakaare have somewhere they need to be."

"Smoke!" The lieutenant's raspy shout echoed across the camp, even with that turret still blaring in the distance. Two of the soldiers stuck out in the forward-oriented foxholes tossed smoke canisters out between the tank's position and the downed repulsortruck. "More smoke!" More smoke canisters flew, and a small wall of hazy grey smoke had risen between them. Beilee and Top could only watch as the silver silhouettes of Mack and Diver made a sprint for the truck, no small feat in itself with Katarn armor.

The fighter tank opened up with its primary laser cannons, shooting blind into the smoke in tandem with the top turret.

"Can't you take out the top gunner, Sergeant?" Beilee asked.

"If I shoot him, there'll be another to take his place. If not, they might get spooked and either charge in and we die, or they run away to wail on us later." said Top. "I need this to end with that tank out of commission."

The tank let forth another spray from its laser cannons and Top heard Diver grunt; a quick check on his vitals via HUD connection showed that he was still okay and on the move. Seconds ticked by agonizingly slow. Top resisted darting back and forth between POV icons and instead helped Breeze get a painkiller.

Moments later, the two commandos came running back into camp at full tilt, a Plex rocket launcher in their arms. Mack had two good scorch marks on the side of his helmet where the mounted turret had managed to find its mark.

"You two are more gettse'la then those Null dingbats." said Top, patting each of them on the back with pride and relief. "Now, let's go take out that tank."

Edge of camp, Support Base Osha Sili, Istooine

Diver snapped the DC-17's sniper attachment into place as he lay flat in the dirt between two containers. From his position, hitting that poor shabuir of a gunner was almost child's play. Of course, it helped that for him and his brothers, sniper trainer really had been child's play. He checked the readout on his HUD:

Range: 2320 meters, Windage: right, four mills, Elevation: 40 degrees, Target: GREEN.

Or at least the target would've been green. With his Deece's sniper, Diver could nearly count the hairs inside the gunner's nose. Now it was only a matter of waiting until Top and Mack were in position.

Diver almost laughed at the inadequacy of the enemy. While the fighter tank had done some considerable damage upon its appearance—shooting unsuspecting soldiers and destroying the ISP—now that the men were under cover and the tank was out of rockets, all they could do was make a ruckus. The tank fired its laser cannons ineffectually at the durasteel shipping containers, and the turret gunner just sprayed bolts seemingly for the fun of it.

Nothing worse then wasted potential.

Any clone piloting the thing would've moved on the base. Come in with laser cannons blazing, roof turret defending the flanks. Shab, you could just ram your way through camp. Diver had seem just how serious a full-speed charge from a Saber-class tank could be on more then one occasion. By now, he'd have—

"We're in position." Top's voice cut into Diver's train of thought, yanking him back into the moment. "At my command."

"Ready when you are, Sarge."

"Sniper…ready…fire!"

Diver squeezed the trigger and a single bolt of energy whizzed through the air. An instant later, the turret gunner ceased to have any discernible face.

"Take, take, take!"

Diver watched as Top and Mack seemed to spawn almost magically from the meager clumps of prairie grass. Top fired first; Mack fired his rocket into the already forming ball of fire from Top's. The two commandos kept going, moving right into the growing fog of smoke and dust until even Diver couldn't see them anymore.

Blasters fired. There was another explosion that Diver recognized as an anti-armor round. A larger blast followed. Then more shots and…silence.

"Sarge?" Diver felt the worry creep through him. It always drove him crazy trying to piece together the events of a battle by sound alone. "Sarge? Mack?" There was still no response. "Mack?! Sarge!"

Out of the smoke walked two silvery-grey figures as Mack's comm crackled to life. "Sorry for the scare, ner vod." He let out a haggard laugh. "You sound like you were sweating bucketloads."

"Shabii'gar, Mack." Diver let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "What happened?"

"Mack shot an anti-armor round through the hole we blew in the hull. When it popped, we got some shabla nasty feedback from the thing's comm unit." Top waved his Deece over his head, maybe in victory, but Diver suspected it was to show him that he was all right. "Don't worry, vod'ika. We're fine."

"Glad to hear it, vode."

"So are we. Next mission, we need camo armor. Three times I thought we were spotted back there." said Mack.

Breeze joined the conversation with a little laugh. "Maybe we can get some fancy black rigs like I heard Omega have."

"No chance." said Top. "I also heard Omega got deployed to Fest with those rigs. Fest…as in snow. Damn near got their shebs shot off. That ain't gonna be us."

"Oh, sir, yes sir." Diver laughed. "Black's not my color anyway. Makes me look fat."

When Top and Mack reached camp, they returned to a chorus of cheers. Loudest among them was the lieutenant. "That was some great work. I've never seen anything like that."

"Job done, ma'am." said Mack, "No big deal. We've got an hour and a half 'till sundown and there's still a lot of work to do."

"Let's not waste any of it." said Top, walking over to Beilee. "Lieutenant, let's move those light sets to the camp interior."

Beilee gave him a slightly confused look. "Sergeant?"

"Indulge me, ma'am."

As she went about it, Top headed for the cage holding the prisoners.

"Life becomes more interesting, no?" Dhafiir said when he saw Top coming. "I was just telling my friends here that life is a gift from God. He lends it for a little while, then recalls it to lend to someone else."

Top look over the other two prisoners. "Not bad advice. Maybe you'd like to give some to your friends out there. Tell them to go away."

"Could I?" Dhafiir sighed as though bored. "Even were it so, why would I want to?"

"To save lives. To prevent death."

Dhafiir scoffed. "Why not release us and you go away? That would prevent death."

Top shook his head. "Can't do it."

"Then your choice is death." said Dhafiir. "But who among us is immortal? You? Me?" Now Dhafiir shook his head. "No. Death claims us all at the appropriate time. It is the will of God. And I do not fear his decision."

"Well, then what say we march this brave old barve and his friends out front and blow their brains out in front of their buddies?"

Top took a steadying breath and turned around to find Sergeant Walce and Blaylok.

"Bet that would change the situation in a hurry, wouldn't it?" he continued. "Hell, without him, they'd probably just pack up and leave!"

Dhafiir laughed mockingly, and Top watched Walce just seethe. "A coward thinks all other men are cowards. And a thief believes all others are thieves!"

Walce swung his rifle up toward the cage. "By God, I'll do it now!"

Top snatched the rifle by it's barrel, ripping it from Walce's hand as he backhanded him in the face. Walce grunted as he stumbled back, reaching for his sidearm.

"Sarge, no!" Blaylok yelled.

"Listen to him!" Top warned, pointing Walce's own DC-15 at him. "There will be no second chance."

Walce sneered at Top, but let his hand fall from the blaster pistol as he turned to walk away.

"Here!" Walce hadn't even turned around fully when Top threw the rifle back to him, though he managed to catch it. "But you try it again, I'll kill you."

Walce gritted his teeth and choked down a retort, stomping off, cursing all clones under his breath as he went.

Blaylok spoke up once he was out of earshot. "Sergeant, I think you better watch your back. I've known him a long time, and he's done some…just be careful is all I'm saying."

Top smiled, though Blaylok couldn't see it. "Thanks for the warning, but you better get back on the comms and try to break through some of that static."

"Yes sir." Blaylok replied, hurrying off.

"Most diverting." Top turned slowly to face Dhafiir again. "You would kill me if I tried to escape, but you protect me from a murderer. Right. A condemned man must be kept healthy before he can be executed. It is your law, yes?"

"It is the law that, as my prisoner, I'm bound to protect you."

"An excellent law. Would that more men observed it."

Top gave a half-hearted shrug. "Your friends out there were just observing the law of exterior ballistics."

The somewhat smug look on Dhafiir's face faded and Top decided to take his leave of the man before his own temptation proved too great.

***

Istooine's sun, Istoo Prime, was on its way down. Just over half of its orange face shown above the horizon. The hot air had dropped a few degrees and there was a slight breeze filtering through the camp.

Top almost thought it peaceful as he walked up beside Lieutenant Beilee. But that was sure to change. "Okay, ma'am. It's time."

The lieutenant nodded and took a deep breath. "Stand to, men!" she called, "Stand to!"

Soldiers all over camp took up their positions, whether behind sandbags or in foxholes, rifles held at the ready for the slightest hint of impending danger.

Top looked them over with satisfaction. He now saw the combat training Alpha-19 had instilled here. As he walked the camp perimeter with the lieutenant in tow, he could see now that they realized the vacation was over. The battle was on their doorstep. And they were ready to fight it.

"If I should go down, Mack will take my place. After him, Diver. Then Breeze. But no matter what else happens, do not let Walce near those prisoners."

Beilee looked up at Top with her fear plain on her face. "I signed up to do this thinking we'd just be supplying the troopers. I didn't like the idea of other men having to come in and fight our war for us, but I've gotta say I never expected to do any real fighting. And I never thought I'd be—"

"Everything will be all right, Lieutenant." said Top. "You've gotta believe that. If you believe it, so will the men. Trust me." Top placed his hand on the lieutenant's shoulder. He did his best to be reassuring, even if it was her job as a commanding officer to reassure him.

The lieutenant's face hardened into a mask of pure determined grit. "Yes. I know it. We've done everything we possibly could. We're ready."

"You're damn right we are."

Shipping container 5-9, acting Command Post, Support Base Osha Sili,

Istooine, 3 standard hours after sundown

"Eni Station, Eni Station! This is Osha Sili! Do you copy? Eni Station, Eni Station!" Blaylok had been going on for hours, trying to get into contact with the 101st's command center. "Do you copy?" So far he'd had no luck, nor any with Nobility. "Nobility, Nobility! This is Osha Sili! Do you copy? Nobility, Nobility!"

Lieutenant Beilee stood at the doors of the command post, searching the horizon through her rifle scope.

"Okay, ma'am." She hadn't even heard Top approach. "Stand-to's over. Let's get to 50% security until something happens. I'll give the order." He started to go when she grabbed his arm.

"Look! Over there!"

Top turned around and switched his HUD off of its night vision filter. Thin streams of moving light, barely visible before, were now trickling down the far hillside.

"Glowlamps and spotlights." he said, "They're coming down."

Walce came running up next to them—not nearly as stealthily as Top, Beilee noted—and strained his eyes to see out into the night. "What the stang is that?"

"Oh, they're moving about. Just trying to rattle us." Top chuckled to himself in the privacy of his helmet, psyching himself up, before switching back to exterior audio."Tell the men to stand fast and watch their sectors."

"All right." said Walce, racing back to his post.

"And send out those listening posts!"

"Okay!"

One good thing's come of all this, Top thought, Walce's backtalk sure has tempered since the sun went down.

"All right, Lieutenant. I'm gonna move in among the men. I suggest you stay at the CP where we all know we can reach you. There's a chance those comms could come alive; if they do, you can call it in for some support."

"Right, Sergeant." Beilee said.

A few blasterbolts streaked down from the hill, each of them falling short of the forward line. Even that, however, seemed enough for the gunners in their foxholes to open up with the E-Webs.

"Cease fire!" Top ordered. "Cease fire!" Most of them did, however one gunner team either didn't hear the order from their foxhole, or were too scared to comply. "Stop that Web!" A few others echoed the Cease Fire order, but Top sprinted toward the hole to stop it himself. Five steps from the foxhole and the offending gunners, a rocket whizzed in and sent Top flying back with the explosion.

Soldiers ran to the blown out foxhole and their severely wounded—if not dead—comrades. "Medic!" one yelled, before Top threw his hand across the man's mouth.

"Shut up!" he hissed. "It was a probe to get us to show our gun positions. Get some help, but do it quietly." The soldier nodded quickly, dashing off for the medstation. "No more shooting until I say so!"

Breeze, back to fighting fit, ran and dropped down next to Top. "The troops are spooked, Top."

"Well, we gotta un-spook 'em." Top looked over the E-Web: it'd still fire. "Get another crew on that gun. Tell them don't shoot until they attack us in the wire."

"Will do."

"I'm gonna give Diver and his crew some work."

The commandos split up without another word, silently moving about their missions. On his way to Diver and the grenadiers' position toward the center of camp, Top ducked into the command post. He took his helmet off and wiped his brow with the back of his gauntlet.

"Pass the word to the other squad leaders," Top said to the lieutenant, "No more repeater fire and no more rifle fire until ordered. They're trying to get a fix on our positions so they can figure out where to crawl up to."

"Right. I'll go now." she said.

"And tell the troops, the next sound they hear out there will be ours, and it'll be a crowd-pleaser." said Top.

"Roger that, Sergeant."

She started to go when Top spoke up again. "And ma'am?"

"Yes?"

He grinned. "Don't forget to smile, it reassures the troops." With an added wink, she burst into a grin of her own as he replaced his helmet and went back out for Diver.

"Probing fire?" Diver asked as Top reached his position.

"Mm-hmm. Let's give 'em a surprise. I want you to fire an open sheath, 9:00 and 12:00. Four rounds per tube."

"Wanna watch?" Diver smirked right though his helmet.

"Nah, got other things to do." said Top. "Give me five minutes, then let her rip."

"With pleasure, Sarge." Top took off and Diver looked to the grenadiers gathered around him. "Aurek team at 9:00. Bacta team at 12:00. Four rounds. HE range: 100 meters, and adjust outward 25 meters per round. At my command."

The grenadiers all nodded, the same excited smiles on their faces that lit up Diver's.

Top slid into a forward foxhole already occupied by an armored commando. "Boys are getting jumpy." said Mack.

"Well, let's settle 'em down." Top gave Mack a pat on the shoulder as he looked over the hole's edge. "In a couple of minutes, Diver's gonna give them a little surprise. Briikase gote'tuur, all over again for the little shabuire." Mack chuckled, this time on the open comlink. "When he does, fire a parachute flare and have your boys shoot whatever they see." Top pulled a flare from his pack and handed it to Mack while he took one for himself. "I'm gonna do the same thing with the first squad."

"Fire!" Diver yelled. A volley of grenades flew from their launch tubes as a pair of flares blazed to life out front of the camp. As rifle fire blared, several explosions roared moments later as the grenades came down on their targets.

The light from the parachute-suspended flares banished he night's darkness and not only blinded the unprepared militia, but turned them into easy targets for the soldiers to pick off. More grenades landed, more explosions rocked the countryside, and more militiamen died.

The base soldiers cheered as they fired, even as their lieutenant—running out to join her men in battle—took a pair of blaster bolts to the chest and one to the leg.

"Aahh! Ahh-hah!"

Two soldiers rushed out and hauled her back to the command post.

Breeze dropped to one knee at the side of an empty ammo crate, sighted up, and fired. A few men in the advancing forward line dropped, but Breeze knew it wouldn't do more than slow them down. The militia definitely had the numbers for this game. If only they'd had some heavy artillery…

Diver's team's grenades were beginning to amass smoke on the hillside but Breeze's HUD filters let him kept the enemy in his sights. Long enough to shoot them, anyway.

Further out, Top and Mack led their teams in attacking from the foxholes. Blue bolts of energy lashed out as soldiers, one after another, stood up and unloaded clip after clip into the waves of militia.

Militia went down, some by blaster bolt, others by grenade. A few unlucky di'kute tripped over fallen comrades in the chaos; some got back up, others didn't. Dead bodies became like meaty shrapnel with later grenade blasts, bones striking of even impaling the living. When the light from the flares slowly faded back to black, it was almost a relief for the onlookers.

"Cease fire!" Top yelled over the steady rifle and repeater fire.

"I can't see them!" someone shouted.

The whole hillside had been again enshrouded by the night's shadow and while the soldiers of Osha Sili continued to pump fire into the dark, the militiamen were on the retreat.

"Cease fire!" Top yelled again. Mack and Breeze echoed the order to the men closest to them until the camp reverted to wary quiet again.

Shipping container 3-9, Medstation, Support Base Osha Sili,

Istooine, Five standard minutes after cease fire

Top stood beside the cot at the rear of the base medstation, looking down at the wounded lieutenant. Without body armor, she looked even smaller and considerably more frail. Her torso was wrapped in bacta-soaked gauze, and her leg was bandaged up, too.

"You can thank the Republic taxpayers for that body armor, Lieutenant." Top said, holding his helmet under one arm. "It saved your arm."

Lieutenant Beilee groaned. "I feel like I've been hit by a cruiser."

"Bolt from a blaster rifle will do that to you. From what the med droid tells me, you've got a couple of broken ribs to boot. Must've been something high spec."

She winced. "I was stupid."

"No. It's called combat. You just stepped in the flight path of some bolts, is all. It happens."

"Well," said Beilee, "you're officially in charge now."

Walce came walking in, looking surprisingly more concerned then Top had expected. "What happened?"

Top sighed. "Lieutenant got hit."

Beilee fixed Walce with her newly found officer look. "Sergeant Top is in command now."

Walce bit his lip. "Yes, ma'am, I can see that." He looked over at Top. "We really kicked their hatti backsides that time, huh?"

"It was a probe. They found out what they needed to know. They'll be back."

Walce gripped his rifle, ready to run out again. "Then we'd better—"

"When they're ready. They're probably getting into position." said Top.

Just then, Mack came walking into the CP. Top could tell by his exhausted huffing over the internal comm that he wasn't coming with good news. "Right before the flare went out, I saw about forty men running along the base of the hill on my side. You can probably multiply that by a factor of three."

"That's over a hundred men!" Walce exclaimed. "We can't possibly hold out against those odds!"

"Yes, we can." Top was in no mood for panicking or nay-sayers; he'd done too much preparation today to allow that now. "We're dug in. We've got plenty of ammo. Good fields of fire. And the men are ready. We just have to remain calm, and don't panic. Because panicis what kills."

The words of his old training sergeant were still etched into his mind.

"Sergeant Walce, I want you to take over in the CP. Keep trying to make contact with the 101st or Nobility. Mack's gonna take over as platoon commander." Top watched as Walce soaked it all in, looking inhumanly pale. "You can move out now." He did, and fast. Top turned back to Lieutenant Beilee. "You'll be safe in here, ma'am."

"I'm sure." she said, smiling weakly. "Hand me my rifle anyway."

Top took the Deece leaning against the wall and laid it next to Beilee gently. "See you in the morning, Lieutenant." He turned and walked out with Mack, passing the medical droid working on the lazy soldier—Kamers—from earlier.

"When do you think?" Mack asked.

"After midnight. They need to get into position, let us relax our guard."

Mack took a heavy breath, exhaling slowly. "Well, they gotta overrun us. That's about the only chance they've got."

"I suspect so. Put the troops on 50% security, let 'em get as much rest as possible. They'll wake up when the shooting starts."

"Right." Mack nodded to himself, glancing at his chrono. "I'm gonna deliver another basic load of ammo and get their water topped up."

"Good idea. And let them know if they need to use the 'freshers, do it in their foxholes. The only friendlies I want moving around are the leaders."

"I will." Mack paused for a moment, but Top knew he was getting ready to say something. "Hey…it's gonna get ugly."

"Yeah," said Top, putting a hand on Mack's shoulder plate, "I know."

***

Breeze ran at a crouch up to one of the forward foxholes. "One of you kick back," he said to the E-Web crew, "get some shut-eye." He nudged the soldier on his left. "You first."

"Yes sir." The soldier crept back and headed into camp while Breeze jumped out and made for the next hole.

Aside from his hushed orders and some idle chatter from the troops, the night seemed quiet enough that a few minutes of shut-eye didn't sound half bad to him either. But with the lieutenant out of commission, Top—and by extension, Alpha Squad—was in charge of Osha Sili. And this was one job you didn't survive falling asleep on.

Top shuffled over to his position, keeping low. "Web crews know not to fire 'till the enemy hits the final protective line?"

"They know." said Breeze.

"But will they do?"

"Well, we'll see, won't we?" He looked down at his chrono. "Hey, what time you got?"

"Why? You takin' meds?" Top joked as he checked his own. "Near 2350."

"Thanks, Sarge."

Top gave him a pat on the back, then got up and made for Mack's position when the sound of blasterfire suddenly flared up again.

"Incoming!"

A rocket came soaring in and struck not three meters from Top, sending him crashing into the old ammo crates piled up for cover.

"Osik!" he growled, rolling over and immediately returned fire.

Rifles opened fire as Mack launched another parachute flare to illuminate the battlefield. The militiamen shouted and Top heard a few Huttese curses he recognized, but they'd seen this trick before and were now prepared with sunvisors of their own.

"Forward fire! On the ridge!" yelled on of the team leaders.

A second rocket sailed in and exploded just in front of Breeze's foxhole; he didn't even flinch. His helmet sensors muffled the explosion and shaded his eyes from the flash, so the bolts of hot blue energy continued to fly from his Deece.

"Aimed shots, men! Make 'em count!" Top called. He put two rounds in the center of a militia rocket launcher's chest as if to illustrate his point. A bolt whizzed by his head, another pinging off his upper arm plate.

Diver's grenadier team made themselves known with a fresh grenade volley that wiped out the militia's forward line.

Breeze set in the DC-17's anti-armor attachment and fired off a few explosive rounds of his own.

At the same time, Top and Mack continued to hose the advancing militia with good old fashioned energy bolts of the deadly variety.

The E-Webs carved a fresh swathe of carnage with every sweep, taking down nine or ten men each pass.

The flare's light began to fade again, and by the time it was out, almost all of the enemy fire had stopped.

"Cease fire!" ordered Top. "Cease fire!"

"Cease fire!" several others echoed until all guns went quiet.

Top rolled over to Breeze's position, checking through all of his HUD's visual filters to ensure there were no sneak attacks attempted in the dark.

"All right, Breeze, check the line. Reconsolidate. Circulate among the troops, calm 'em down. And then get 'em back to 50% security." In that momentary pause, each could hear the other's heavy breathing, testament to their struggle. Then Top smiled, and Breeze could hear it in his voice. "We just may hold this thing 'till dawn."

As Breeze moved out, a chorus of heavy footsteps pounded up behind Top. "Where do you want these men?"

"Where'd they come from?" Top asked as he turned around. When he saw Beiger and the men from the rear defensive line standing behind Sergeant Walce, he spat, "Meh'shab?"

"There was nothing going on back there," said Walce, "I figured they were needed here."

Top was up so fast, and in Walce's face with such ferocity that the soldiers thought he was going to headbutt the man. "You pulled these men off the line?!" Top hissed.

"Well, only half of—"

"Take them back to their positions! Take them back now!"

Boom!

A small sun seemed to appear on the opposite side of the base as Mack yelled, "They're in the wire!"

Though Top had more then a few choice words to shove down Walce's throat right about then, there wasn't time. He went racing into camp at full speed, the out-of-place troops following without question. Walce was left behind, feeling stunned and stupid, before running back to the command post.

When Top reached the rear perimeter, it was every bit as bad as he'd feared. Without the hill, the militia just marched forward like battle droids. E-Webs blared on, shelling out round after countless round of laserfire into the militia ranks.

"Grenade!" someone yelled. Seconds later, a foxhole went up in flaming smoke and screams.

Solders fired from behind stacked sandbags and over dirt piles, teaming with the E-Web crews to effectively keep the militia's advancing lines at bay.

Another grenade flew in and blew apart one of the infantry positions, leaving those that survived to call for a medic! "Man down! Medic! We need a medic here!"

Top ran to one of the larger foxholes, firing a few rounds the moment his knees touched dirt. One particularly good shot hit a would-be grenade thrower, causing both he and his live thermal detonator to hit the ground. Just a moment later, a satisfyingly large explosion ensued.

Militia heavy repeaters were now joining the battle, cutting down the unfortunate soldiers who didn't manage to get their heads down far enough. A rocket strike blew out another E-Web position, killing the operating crew and ruining the weapon. With each soldier that fell, the enemy seemed emboldened and they pressed further toward camp.

"Fall back!" Top yelled.

"Fall back!" shouted Mack, "Fall back to the alternate position!"

"Fall back to the ditch, men!" Breeze called. "Fall back!"

Twenty feet back, Diver had his grenadier team lined up with their backs to a durasteel wall of a shipping container. "End of the line, men! High-angle…fire!" A small hail of grenades held the militia off as the troops dropped back and took cover in the second-line trench, picking off the closest enemies that managed to survive the explosive volley.

Even that didn't seem to be enough as more and more militia swarmed to the front and Osha Sili's soldiers fell one by one. Before long, there were less then twenty men holding the line, not including the commandos of Alpha Squad.

The militia charged.

"Fall back!" Top called. "Fall back!"

Soldiers retreated into the camp as Top, Mack, and Breeze continued to lay down suppressive fire from their DC-17s. One of the troops clubbed an attacking militiaman with his own Deece; others literally fought tooth and nail to hold them back.

Top gritted his teeth with such force they very nearly cracked.

All haran had truly broken loose.

Shipping container 5-9, acting Command Post, Support Base Osha Sili

"Eni Station, Eni Station! This is Osha Sili! We are under heavy attack! Eni Station, respond!"

Sergeant Walce paced in fast, anxious circle behind Blaylok as he desperately tried to get a transmission through.

"Stang it!" Walce growled. He grabbed one of the command post soldiers. "Cox, you and Kohter go get those kriffin' prisoners out of the cage and bring 'em back here!" He was tired of waiting, listening to his men get slaughtered outside. "I know how to put an end to this. Do it now!"

Cox nodded quickly—fearfully—and ran out of the command post.

"And bring 'em to me!" Walce called after him.

"Nobility, Nobility! This is Osha Sili! We are under heavy attack! Repeat, we are under heavy attack. Respond!"

***

"Fall back!"

Top fired off another quick spray, they ducked behind and ammo crate for cover to reload. "Mack, get out of there!"

Mack was walking backward, still firing all the while as he retreated. The militia seemed barely fazed, moving in closer despite the heavy stream of fire Mack kept up.

Shabla di'kute don't know what they're in for, thought Mack as he fell back into camp.

"Diver! Now!"

Diver pulled a hand detonator from his utility belt, prepping the trigger with a flick of his forefinger.

"Fire!"

Diver pressed down his thumb on the trigger and a brilliant wall of flames consumed the militia's charging forward line.

"Fire!" Top yelled again.

Diver pressed the trigger again and a second wall of flame shot up just in front of the trench, massacring over two-dozen more militiamen in a fiery death.

Even with his helmet's natural protective features, Top still had to shield his eyes with his hand. He knew Diver liked his explosions big, and was a fan of P for Plenty himself, but even Top hadn't thought he'd put that much detonite out there. Not that he was complaining right about then.

"Final line! Fire!"

***

"Come on!" Cox barked as the cage down swung open. "Out!"

"You heard him! Out!" snapped Kohter, rifle aimed at the prisoners' chests as they walked slowly out of the cage.

Just then, a wall of fire seemed to spring up on the camp's read edge and an explosion shook the very ground beneath their feet. Seeing the brief moment where surprise had lowered the soldiers' guard, all three prisoners attacked. In mere seconds, they stood over two dead men, shot down by their own weapons.

"The prisoners!" Nordin came running into the command post, still out of breath and shaking from what he'd just seen. "The prisoners!"

"What about the prisoners?" Walce growled, grabbing the man bodily.

"They're loose, and they have our weapons! Cox and Kohter are dead, Sarge."

Walce shoved Nordin aside, running to the doors and looking out at the carnage that had taken the camp, all the bodies piling up…all for nothing, now.

"What the hell have I done?"

***

"Lights!"

The light sets Mack had the lieutenant set up near the center of camp now blazed to life atop two shipping containers. The sudden spotlights stunned and blinded the militia, letting the troops regain their foothold on the edge of the base with a surge that took advantage of their surprise.

Top was just about to lead the men back out to push the militia back even further, when Blaylok ran up behind him to deliver the bad news.

"It's the prisoners!" he said, shouting over the roar of the battle. "They've gotten lose, and they've got blasters!"

It wasn't hard for Top to figure out what'd happened, some variation of it anyway. No matter how it happened, though, Top knew that it would be Walce who turned up as the guilty party. He'd sort Walce out later, whether after they'd won or back as a ghost. A nice fantasy if nothing else.

"Diver! Mack!" Top shouted, "Go!"

Go. With just that single word, Mack and Diver rushed to the front line, a Plex on one shoulder each and their Deece in the opposite hand, an anti-armor round already loaded. Go. With just that one word, two commandos spat fiery death at their enemy. Go. One word and upwards of thirty militiamen met their demise. That was the power of Go.

Blaylok put a trio of blaster bolts into a militiaman's stomach—more luck then anything, he'd later admit—then spun around and made for the command post. He passed Lieutenant Beilee, a crutch under one arm and her rifle in the other, squeezing off shots just outside the medstation.

"Keep them back!" she yelled. "Back!"

Walce ran up behind her, firing just over the lieutenant's shoulder. "It's gotta stop!" he shouted, "We've gotta make it stop!"

"No, we gotta counterattack!" said Beilee.

Walce shook his head in defeat. "It's too late for that! They'll kill us all!"

"So be it, then!"

Walce ran out, a crazed look in his eye. He spotted the armored form of Top amongst the smoke and other soldiers. With his teeth clenched in anger, he sighted up. "By God, he goes first." His finger closed on the trigger and a shot fired.

Suddenly he was on the ground, and his leg felt like it was on fire. Walce rolled over in agony to find Blaylok, rifle pointed down at him. The man tossed him a bacta patch.

"Put that on your leg."

"You kriffin'—"

"Do it," Blaylok said coldly, "and maybe you'll live." Without wasting another word or glance on the fallen sergeant, Blaylok took up a position beside Top and fired.

"Keep firing!" Top called.

The militia's bold streak had waned. They'd been pushed a considerable distance back and they're forward line was severely dwindling now. It was their turn to fight on the defensive.

"Forward!" Top ordered, leading the charge out of the camp. A pair of laser bolts struck his chestplate, winding him, but the clone sergeant didn't even slow down. He knocked the shooter's rifle from his hands with his own weapon before thrusting his gauntlet's vibroblade into the man's chest. "Forward! Into them!"

Diver, Breeze, and Mack were right behind him, as were the base soldiers. The men of Osha Sili had no doubts in their minds that if there was a victory to be had here tonight, it would be won through these four elite clones.

The soldiers pushed forward like a wave, with Alpha Squad at the head; rifles only stopped firing for as long as it took to reload them.

"I'm hit!"

"Take 'em down! Take 'em down!"

"Medic!"

"That's the stuff! Kill 'em all!"

"Come on, men!" Even among the cacophony of screaming soldiers and the roar of combat, Top's voice was unmistakable. "No one lives forever! Go! Go, go, go!"

And at the command of a mere sergeant who'd spent his entire—albeit brief—life in command of a squad of only four men, over forty now let out a single terrifying cheer and charged at the enemy.

Rear defensive line, Support Base Osha Sili, Istooine,

Daybreak, 376 days after Geonosis

Not a single sound graced the early hours of the sun's rise. No shots were fired, no grenades exploded, and no man yelled out.

If you close your eyes, you'd barely know there'd been a battle, thought Top.

Except for the smell of smoke, several hours worth of discharged blasters, and death.

Alpha Squad's sergeant stood behind the defensive line's fallback trench, watching the fifteen men who, for the last hour, had stood at firing position in all the mud and all the blood. They'd held the line. They'd won.

"They've gone." he said, seeming to make the statement fact once the thought became words.

The soldiers holding the trench relaxed their guard, but they didn't move. They wouldn't, not until Top said so. Each man felt the same way: they were alive now only because of the sergeant and his three comrades.

"Leaders, consolidate." said Top. "Redistribute arms and ammunition. Maintain positions." Top knew that just because the militia were gone, it didn't mean they'd stay gone.

He turned and walked back into camp, Breeze following closely behind. He rounded a corner to find Diver, standing over a pile of plastifoil tarp-covered mounds.

Bodies.

"How many dead?" Top asked quietly.

"Too many." replied Diver, equally as somber. "No armor tallies to collect for identification."

"Then it's up to friends, then." Top shook his head and forced himself to move on. Dwelling on the negative only brought more negativity. "Where's the lieutenant?"

"Over here!"

Top had hardly noticed her, small as she was. Beilee was sitting against the medstation container's wall as the base's medical droid lectured away as he re-wrapped her torso.

"How're you doing, ma'am?"

"I'm all right." She winced, glaring daggers at the med droid. "What's the status?"

Top took an exhausted breath and eased off his helmet. "Well, they slipped back into the hills. We hurt 'em pretty bad. But another night like tonight and—"

"Comms are live!" Blaylok shouted, running over from the command post. "I made contact with the 101st's forward command center. They're sending a medevac and a division of troops. They'll be here in 20, they say."

A small smile of relief crept across the lieutenant's face, one mirroring Top's own. "Then we made it." she said, sounding almost breathless.

"Looks that way." Top reached out his hand and shook the lieutenant's. "It sure does look that way."

"Hey, Top." Mack gestured for him to come over from the other end of the camp's center. "Over here."

Top and Breeze gave Beilee a salute and headed over. As they passed the command post, Top glanced down at Sergeant Walce, a bacta patch pressed onto a blaster wound to his leg. The man wouldn't—or couldn't—even look Top in the eye.

The two commandos followed their brother around to the front of the base.

There, laying on their backs, eyes open to the sky, were the three prisoners Alpha Squad had been tasked with retrieving. Several blaster holes adorned their bodies, primarily in the abdominal area. Dhafiir, though, had taken a hit almost in the exact center of his forehead.

"Dead." said Mack to himself. "All three."

Breeze glanced around. "But what—who did it?"

Top just sighed. "Them. Us. Who knows?"

There was a moment of shared silence among the squad as they looked down at the dead men and their failed mission.

Then Breeze broke the silence. "Who the shab was he anyway," he asked, tilting his head toward Dhafiir, "that caused all of this?"

"A man." said Top. "It's just a man."

EPILOGUE

Support Base, Osha Sili, Istooine, Outer Rim,

376 days after Geonosis

Top had heard them coming before he saw them: larties. The LAAT/I gunships made a sound every single clone in the GAR could recognize three star systems away. It sounded like…hope.

Hope had been in short supply recently for the commandos of Alpha Squad and the soldiers of Support Base Osha Sili. But they had survived the night against the Force only knows how many militiamen, with no shields, no heavy artillery, and no reinforcements. They had done the impossible, and thus they felt mighty. Most of them did, anyway.

When the gunships touched down on the edge of camp, clone troopers from the 101st's Oyre Company disembarked and immediately moved to secure the base perimeter.

I see Blaylok mentioned a thing or two about perimeter security, then, thought Top.

Clone medics rushed in, moving straight for the medstation as a trooper in a captain's red livery headed toward the command center.

Top watched the captain move through the base for a moment before looking back to the larties. An LAAT/c had just dropped of an AT-TE that Top suspected would be sticking around until Osha Sili was packed up so as not to have any repeats of the prior day and night. Couldn't fault GAR logic there.

Then Top saw an incoming figure that was impossible to mistake, all shiny blue lieutenant's pauldron and flapping kama; an ARC trooper.

"You must be RC-4224, Alpha Squad's sergeant." said the ARC.

"Yes sir." said Top, standing to attention as the ARC approached.

The ARC sounded like he almost laughed, shaking his head at the rigid commando before him. "At ease, man. From what I hear, you deserve that at least." Top visibly relaxed at the ARC lieutenant's word. "You got a name to go with all those numbers, Sergeant?"

"Top, sir. I go by Top."

"If you haven't already guessed, I'm Alpha-19. You can call me Corvo or Lieutenant, but I prefer Corvo. And I'm no fan of 'sir'. Save it for the generals, Top."

"Will do…Corvo."

Corvo reached up and eased off his helmet, clipping it on his belt over his kama. He took in a breath of countryside air, then breathed it out with an exaggerated sigh. "Fierfek, I forgot how hot it was out here." Sweat had already begun to bead on his forehead. "Where's the rest of your squad, Top?"

"Getting some sleep, Lieu—I mean Corvo." Top looked for any sign of annoyance on the ARC's face, but there was only exhausted good-humor. "I figured they needed a good rest."

"I'm sure they do. You should probably be joining them." Corvo took his datapad of his belt, looking it over with interest.

"I'll sleep on the way back to barracks."

He didn't look up as he spoke. "Tough man. But I guess you'd have to be if you've met the locals the hard way."

"They gave us quite a time. The base's soldiers took heavy casualties."

Now Corvo looked up from his 'pad. "How heavy?"

"Approximately 75%, unfortunately. About two-dozen more wounded and just about everyone, including my own squad, scuffed up pretty good."

Top watched Corvo's expression of general contentment fade away rather quickly. "That bad, huh?" The lieutenant replaced his 'pad on his belt and beckoned Top to follow. "Let's go get a cup of caf, ner vod."

***

Corvo sat with Top in what was left of the mess container, salvaging some caf from the dinged-up old machine. It'd been a little over a week since he'd left Osha Sili to aide the 101st Attack Battalion in their assault on Hansen Vlet, one of Istooine's major cities and a strategic Separatist holdout. The return to the base wasn't quite what he'd been expecting.

"I suppose I should thank you for even keeping this handful of di'kute alive through all that." said Corvo after Top finished debriefing him.

"No thanks necessary. It's the job."

"It was my job. Train them, keep them safe—that was what I was here for." Corvo knew that being retasked was to be expected for an ARC trooper, especially when there was a larger GAR attack going on in conjunction with his operation. But he'd spent two months with the men of Osha Sili. He'd never pretend that they were the best soldiers in the galaxy, certainly under par for even standard troopers. But after two months of training, working, and living among them, Corvo had become somewhat attached. It hurt down deep to hear that most of them were now gone.

Top was no fool and he knew what was troubling the ARC. "Strong men you trained." he said. "They gave twice as good as they got, at least."

Corvo smiled, something Top had heard was rare among the ARC ranks. "Now I know we aren't talking about the same soldiers." He took a sip from his cup and laughed. "How many times you butt heads with my good buddy, Walce?"

Top almost laughed out loud himself now. "More times then I think proper to say." He almost said "sir"; Corvo even heard the beginnings of the S. "He's in the medstation now. Had a run in with some friendly fire."

Corvo raised an eyebrow. "That so?"

"Not from me." Top looked Corvo over for a moment, noticing the lieutenant's near pristine white armor. "That new armor?"

"Not exactly. Let's just say that Hansen Vlet didn't have very much to offer an ARC like me in the way of a challenge." The man didn't seem to have a scratch on him. Corvo got up and went for a refill. "More?" Top shook his head. Corvo shrugged and went about refilling his cup. "I knocked down their jamming tower in my spare time, as it were."

"That so?" Top finished his cup and tossed it in the trash bin.

"Don't get me wrong, ner vod. The 101st are no slackers. Why do you think I brought Oyre Company back with me? Captain Kyr'am doesn't except less then the best."

"Kyr'am? Nice name." Top scoffed.

Corvo laughed. "Trust me, it fits him. Captain Death is one tough shabuir. You see his helmet?"

"Just from a distance."

"The man's got Parjai and Kote engraved on either side of his helmet." said Corvo. "Real ori'beskaryc."

"No joke, ner vod." Top felt truly at ease around the ARC trooper now. The arrogant loner reputation that ARCs tended to get seemed nowhere to be found. Here was just a man in armor—armor different then his—but a man like him nonetheless.

Just then, the other three members of Alpha Squad ambled into the mess, wearing their armor but minus their helmets. When they noticed the ARC lieutenant, each snapped to attention.

"At ease, vode." said Corvo, leaning against the cafmachine counter. "Caf?"

"Oh, yes sir." said Breeze, his face lighting up at just the thought.

"Make it three." said Mack, pushing his brothers toward the table with Top.

Corvo grabbed a pair of cups, handing them to Breeze and Diver before getting another for Mack.

"Thank you, sir." said Diver, eagerly gulping at his.

"The name's Corvo. Let's leave the ranks at the door. We're all just clones here."

"Good, I'll just chug caf at my own discretion, then." said Breeze.

"The pot's all yours, ner vod. You boys sure earned it."

Mack let a gulp of caf slide down his throat with his eyes closed. "That's good stuff." He looked back up at Corvo. "So what happens next?"

"Osha Sili's being GAR reinforced by Oyre Company's 3rd Platoon, under Lieutenant Vill. The wounded are being shipped to a Pelta medical frigate in orbit for treatment, then they're probably going home. The Republic's committing another two battalions to Istooine. You four are to return to Nobility within the hour, and you're shipping out back to Triple Zero."

Breeze went for his second caf refill.

"General Zey isn't going to be happy to hear we lost the prisoners." said Diver.

Corvo shrugged. "It happens to the best of us, ner vod." Then he smiled. "Maybe you can have my good buddy Maze soften the blow for you."

Top suspected that Corvo used the term "good buddy" as a purely cynical euphemism. Maze wasn't anyone's buddy, and he never did anything softly, either.

"We hitching a ride on one of the 101st's larties?" asked Top.

Corvo nodded. "When the medevac goes, so do you." He stood up, finishing his cup of caf before tossing it in the trash bin. "As for me, I've got my rounds to make here at the base. So I guess I'll say my goodbyes now." Corvo shook each of the commandos' hands, giving each a respectful nod. "Take care, ner vode."

"Ret'urcye mhi." said Top. He meant it in both senses of the phrase.

Corvo turned and walked out of the mess, heading across camp for the command post. As he walked through the bulky durasteel doors, the ARC trooper watched a familiar—albeit dirt-covered—face absolutely light up.

"Corvo?"

Corvo smiled. "Hey, Beil'ika."

***

Alpha Squad walked quietly beside the line of troopers ferrying wounded to the gunships. Not far away, the newly-arrived AT-TE walker clanked its way around the base. It was midmorning, and even inside the temperature-controlled Katarn armor, the commandos of Alpha knew it was shaping up to be another scorcher of a day.

"How you doin', Sarge?" asked Mack.

There was no hiding anything from the man, Top knew.

He loved all four members of his squad, but Mack had been with him since the day he'd first come out of the vat on Kamino; they were the only two survivors of the original Alpha Squad. Breeze and Diver were from Echo and Mem'ry Squads, each the last of their unit. They'd come to be just as close to Top as Mal and Jai, but there was always that strange bond he had with Mack that just let his brother know when something was eating at him under the surface.

"I'm all right." Top switched to Mack's private comm. "I don't like how this mission went down, though."

He heard Mack sigh. "The casualties, you mean? Or the FTD on the prisoners?"

"The prisoners. But it's not The failure to deliver, it's—I don't know. I don't like not knowing."

"What's not to know?"

A trooper passed by Top with the soldier named Kamers on a repulsorgurney.

"Whether or not they really were the enemy." Top took a heavy breath. "I don't mind shooting tinnies. I can do it all day. I don't mind shooting enemy wets. It's just part of the job. But I don't like not knowing if they really…I guess deserved what they got."

"They killed two men." said Mack.

"They were trying to escape. Shab, if I was in their place, I'd have slagged half the base if it meant getting free. That's just part of war. And that's what I mean. What if I was in their place and it turned out they were innocent? We broke into their homes and led them across all haran to their deaths in the middle of a siege." Top shrugged. "It's just be nice to know."

Mack patted his sergeant, his friend, and his brother on the back. "Yeah, I guess it would, ner vod'ika."

Diver cut into their personal chat. "You two wouldn't be comparing notes on the lieutenant, would you?"

"I really hope you don't mean Corvo." said Top, a smile starting to break through without warning.

"Shab, I hope he is. Corvo's way prettier then Lieutenant Beilee." laughed Breeze, joining the conversation that was now on the full-squad frequency. "That woman was about as appealing as a mott's rear end."

"Why do you always have to get insulting?" asked Mack. "What did a mott ever do to you?"

"I'd rather kiss Sergeant Vau's strill." said Diver.

Yeah, thought Top, these are the best brothers a man could ask for.

"Last lartie today. You shiny boys coming or do you just love the local life too much?" asked a sergeant from the last gunship's crew bay.

"Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?" asked Mack, lifting his hand threateningly so that even if the trooper didn't know enough Mando'a to understand him, he'd still get the message.

"Easy, private."

"Stow it, Sergeant." said Top. The trooper went quiet. "Come on, boys. We've still got work to do."

Alpha Squad climbed into the cramped crew bay, packing in next to the 101st troopers headed back to Nobility.

"Home, my good man." Breeze called to the pilot, laughing almost before he'd even finished.

The doors closed and Top looked silently out the viewport as the other troopers and even the pilot laughed right along with Breeze.

"Goodbye Osha Sili."