Prologue – Vengeance
"What in blazes are those TIE squads doing? Get some to escort us to the surface or we'll never make it!" came the heavily-accented yell of the gray-suited pilot within the transport's canopy as he lowered the thick visor placed along his helmet over his eyes.
"It looks like those Rebel air teams are keeping them busy; we'll have to make the approach on our own," replied the co-pilot as he did the same.
"This is Alpha Six – Eight and Ten, move to escort that lander as they approach the Temple," the radio cackled.
"Alpha Ten, moving to sentry position."
"It's about bloody time; I'm not putting my neck on the line to satisfy some flyboy that wants to rack up more kills for himself – allies or the Rebel scum," the pilot remarks as he intensifies his focus over the controls.
"I know what you mean," the co-pilot replies. With the helmet goggles acting as a visor over his eyes, he leaned on the back of his seat to face us.
The Sentinel-class landing craft we were aboard wasn't very roomy for a Stormtrooper awaiting landing in the passenger hold, seeing as how the thing was meant to accommodate over fifty troopers. I was nestled between two others; our bodies separated only by the pale-colored plastoid armor that surrounded us. Tension was certainly high; we could hear the roars of the aerial battle outside and the transmissions from the canopy radio. It didn't take much to gather that Imperial dropships were being picked off by Rebel fighters and the situation of landing some troops in the Temple was getting more desperate by the minute. As my attention was diverted to the landing craft's co-pilot along with every other Stormtrooper in the hold, I quickly double-checked the power pack on my E-11 – seemed to be in good working order.
"Alright, you guys received your briefings aboard the Arrestor, so you know what you're setting out to do. We're taking the Sentinel to land ten klicks from the entrance to the Temple; the rest is up to you."
"Just don't get chewed by aerial fire while we're trying to get out," quickly remarked TK-217.
"If the TIEs do their job properly, that won't happen."
TK-217 was our battalion commander; calculating, excellent marksman, and a substantial amount of loyalty within him – though rumors often circulated that this loyalty was geared more toward the Stormtrooper Corps, the Imperial Army, and the Empire itself rather than the Emperor. He joined up at the end of the Clone Wars when the Empire was fresh and the Old Republic still in people's minds. He lent a hand back when the duties of the Stormtrooper Corps were often revolving around 'adjusting' a planet's government to comply with Imperial standards. With the experience under his belt, he was a highly effective field commander – perfect for the job of leading the 125th Platoon.
As for myself? Well, I wish I could say I had a name, but all I have is my designation – TK-1138, at your service. I'm still a bit of a fresh recruit out of the Academy, having only joined the Imperial Army two years ago upon turning seventeen. I grew up orphaned – never even knew my parents, quite honestly. I decided the best way to earn a paycheck would be to serve in the Army, seeing as how I already had to teach myself how to use a blaster to survive through the years. I didn't expect that I would end up the Stormtrooper Corps so soon after joining the Academy, however. My instructors would always remark that they hadn't seen such precise handling of a blaster among raw recruits; that it was something more often seen among the clones grown from the DNA stock the Old Republic used during the Clone Wars and still among the Stormtrooper Corps to this day, originating from the long-since dead bounty hunter Jango Fett. All in all, I finished up my training among what were deemed as the best combatants in the Academy, eventually earning my armor when I turned eighteen.
I guess I've got some luck in me though, seeing as how the 125th wasn't among the platoons sent to the Death Star. That assignment evolved from the dullest work for a Stormtrooper to that of a death sentence in the course of a few hours. I guess when one is regulated to tedious inspection drills, one doesn't question the security of the Death Star's defense network. No one could've imagined that the Rebels were capable of blowing the thing up, and yet there it was.
So now, we're among the waves sent to the fourth moon of Yavin, charged with commencing an avenging strike against the Rebels for the destruction of the Death Star. We wouldn't be the first, seeing as how the 501st Legion had already completed a landing on the moon, but if our numbers on the ground equated to our amount in space, we would probably be the last. Among the numerous Imperial personnel in the operation was myself, a nineteen year old Stormtrooper in the 125th Batallion, originating from the Imperial-class Star Destroyer Arrestor that was now taking part in the Imperial blockade around Yavin IV's orbit. I took part in other minor skirmishes with the 125th against the Rebels, namely taking part in boarding parties as the Arrestor disabled Rebel capital ships and sent us in among others to physically do the arresting. The Empire had wanted to commit as many forces as possible to the mission of toppling the Rebel base on Yavin IV, and the 125th was among them. We all had to rely on our training and combat skill now; the Empire finally recognized the situation as open war.
"Alright, we're beginning landing procedures. I've received field assignments for you from the Arrestor. You're to link up with a Juggernaut and some AT-STs operating a few klicks away from the landing zone; it's part of the 211th Batallion. You'll be advancing with them to the temple," the pilot announced from the canopy.
"Alright, heads up upon landing, we're expecting combat from the get-go so pay attention to your surroundings," advised Seventeen.
The hold shook as the Sentinel's landing gear met impact with the surface; every member of the 125th occupying the craft stood and faced the sealed hatch, myself included.
"Good luck out there, I'm opening the hatch now," the co-pilot sent us off with.
Within seconds of the announcement, the wall ahead of us extended outward, filling the craft's interior with the contrasting light of the skies over Yavin IV. I was in the second row of troopers ready to exit, so chances are if there was Rebel artillery waiting for us close by, I'd be among the ones shelled first – it wasn't a very calming feeling.
"Go, go!" barked Seventeen from the lead.
With the Commander out first, we started a mad rush out of the landing craft and down the boarding ramp to the dirt surface and Rebel defenders waiting for us below. Already there were crimson blaster bolts speeding across my eyesight as what I guessed were Rebel outlying ground patrols opened fire as we exited the Sentinel. Taking sight upon a nearby Rebel trooper through my E-11's scope upon reaching the foot of the ramp, I quickly squeezed the trigger, firing the shot that sent him back with a puncturing burn in his torso. The other Stormtroopers immediately began their counterattack as well, and it was clear that this would be a tough march to reach the 211th.
The galaxy shook as the domination of the Galactic Empire was about to be tested to its limits.