Disney owns Star Wars, but big thanks to Karen Traviss whose style of opening for "Hard Contact" grabbed my interest and wouldn't let go until I'd had a go at it myself.


The Fires of Geonosis

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This is how it happened.

I'm watching the sunrise. For all of the wind and dust that come with being stationed in the upper gun batteries, the view is worth it. You get a full 360 view of the plains below, the ridges and valleys of the land, not to mention the early morning spectacle as the sun peeks over the horizon. It's a gorgeous sunrise today, and I can't help but think that it's going to be a great day.

I nudge my brother beside me, c'mon check it out. He glances upwards for all of a second, grunts, and goes back to recalibrating the turret. His head's full of metal; all guns and specs that one. He's called Tech and I can see why. I don't have a name yet, but I hope to earn one someday. Maybe he'll be the one to give it to me. But he's in one of his moods, he doesn't seem to like early mornings, I can never figure out why. So I ignore him. I'm not letting anyone ruin today with a bad temper. Today belongs to the optimists, to me.

I'm still staring at the amazing play of colours over the land when the lieutenant flits over to our gun. He's all flustered, unable to keep still, bobbing around in the morning breeze. I know deep down that something is up, that today might not be as glorious as I'd hoped.

"We're under attack," he blurts out. "We've just had reports of a fleet dropping out of hyperspace."

My gut clenches up. This is it. After all our training and drilling, we're finally going to war.

"Who is it?" I ask.

"Unknown," the lieutenant replies, and my gut tries to make itself as small as possible, as though that will save it from the enemy.

The lieutenant glides over to the next gun crew, leaving me and Tech staring at the suddenly hostile skies above as though a ship might drop down on top of us. It's Tech that breaks the spell.

"Prep," he orders, and just like that we're both wrapped up in our jobs, getting the gun ready to rain hell down on the interlopers. I check to make sure that the pile of power cores is easily accessible; I'll be doing a lot of going back and forth. Tech clambers up into the gunner's seat as I slide the first of the massive shells into the rear of the gun. It'll be good for at least ten shots. Ten balls of sonic fury. He looks at me and I nod. All ready. He makes an annoyed click in his throat and I remember that I'm supposed to confirm everything verbally.

"All ready, corporal."

The massive gun hums into life as Tech powers it up. The turret swivels back and forth as Tech check it is moving smoothly. There's no graunching or sticking so we've obviously done a good job at keeping the dust out of the moving parts. The turret stops, still pointing up at the wisps of cloud that are starting to cover the sky.

"Load."

"Yes, sir," I say, and rush to fill the gun's magazine to capacity.

I'm scarcely finished when the lieutenant is back, almost squawking in his panic. I'm not that far off from squawking myself.

"Here they come, sector eleven-two-zero," he yells. "All batteries, fire at will!"

Tech swivels the gun around. I squint, but can only make out vague grey shapes in the distance, shimmering in the early morning heat. Tech opens fire as do the other gunners. The opening salvo is deafening. I can feel the recoil vibrating through the rock under my feet.

I'd love to say that all my fear and thoughts fled as I hurried to do my duty, to keep make sure that Tech didn't run out of cores, but that would be a blatant lie. I was terrified. It's not something I'm particularly proud of, or keen to admit to, but there's not much point in lying now.

It's all I can do not to desert my post when the enemy takes exception to our battery and returns fire. The rock shakes, deadly splinters fly everywhere as we are hammered by the enemy guns. Our air crews manage to keep their fighters at bay, but we are still taking a pounding from the artillery below. There are screams and explosions as other guns and their crews are hit. I see one gun go sailing off the edge to the ground far below, the crew trapped by the steel girders, wings flapping futilely as they struggle to save themselves. The ground is suddenly just as dangerous as the enemy fire and I feel my knees start to shake.

I'm fetching more cores, standing at the base of the rapidly diminishing pile when our gun is hit.

One moment I'm bending down to grab another core. The next, I'm face first against the pile, my ears are ringing. I try to push myself up, but my wrist screams at me. I look down and almost faint. It's dangling at an angle that I know it shouldn't. Something drips into my eyes. I blink, wiping it away with my other hand, and realise its blood: my blood. My stomach lurches. I can't hear Tech. I try to stand, but my legs don't work. I can't feel them.

I crane around and see that I'm sandwiched between the shells and the barrel of a gun. It's been ripped from its stand and is now holding me down. I can see my toes but they don't move when I tell them too. I try to flap. A fresh surge of pain rips into me. A spar of metal has ripped free and ploughed into my wings, pinning me to the dirt. I can't fly, I'm grounded.

I panic then, thrashing around and trying to get free. No use. I pause, panting with the pain, the fear, then I realise that there is no more gunfire. No more omph-omph of sonic rounds going off. Is there no one left? It's far from quiet though. I hear screams, gunfire on the plain below, the clanking of metal, shouts of alien voices. Then there's another sound that drowns out everything else. I want to clamp my hands over my ears, but I can only shake in pain and fear.

A huge ship rises up out of nowhere. A box, full of white droids shouting, pointing weapons at the pile of metal and bodies that used to be my brothers and our battery. The box just hovers there and I hear the droids shouting, but I don't understand them. All the sounds roll into one, with no clicks to indicate where words start and end.

"All guns are destroyed, sir. Do you want us to hold the position?"

"Negative, trooper. Blow it and move on."

"Yes, sir. One order of crispy fried bugs coming right up."

The ship leaves as suddenly as it came and I breathe a sigh of relief. The droids are gone. Maybe now I can get free and try to find Tech. See if there are any other survivors.

Then the world explodes in flame.


It might seem like an odd combo of song and story, but the song for this chapter is "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables.

Part two of this trilogy takes place on Umbara, where the clones of the 501st are going head to head with the local militia. Thanks so much for reading :)