Another day in paradise.
That's all I can think about as I lead my squad through the trench weaving through other soldiers going about their business moving munitions, and other supplies. We march in silence, and I stop by a sign to get my bearing.
The sign says: "Welcome to grid 442: munitions"
I pull up a holographic map of the area, and study it. I think to myself. I'm wanting to be in grid 432, so if I'm in grid 442 then grid 432 is… here.
I close the map, and gesture for the squad to continue, and we continue marching forward. I'm just barely tall enough to look over the trench, and usually this would be a problem with snipers, but not since we've gotten the ray shields up. I look at the Rebel's trench line about 1.5km away, and I couldn't help but remember my first time seeing those trenches around 12 years ago. It was awe inspiring, but now I don't care.
Shortly after the Clone Wars started my planet was fast to start fighting each other. One side wanted to join the CIS, and the other wanted to join the Republic. It didn't matter in the end. Neither the Republic, of the CIS could care about us. People from back then told me that our planet was to no use for either side. We had nothing special about us. All throughout the Clone Wars we killed each other for nothing, and we continue that legacy. Seventeen years of gruesome Civil War, neither side gaining ground that mattered, neither side really having a real reason to fight, but no one wanted to stop fighting, not until the other guys stopped first. Whatever.
My squad, and I march for a while more. I read the grid numbers on signs as we pass them. 441, 440, 439, ect. Until we finally arrive to grid 432, and I order my squad to dig in as I sit on a discarded crate, and pull out a cigar. I rest my blaster between my legs as I pull out my lighter, but It's out of juice I look from one soldier to another, and I see my weapon specialist mounting an HMG, and I say. "Yo. Nopaew. You got a lighter?"
He silently digs in his flak jacket, then goes digging through the many pouches that cover his armored chest, then he finally digs one out, and tosses it to me.
I sit there smoking my cigar wondering if this was going to be another silent day with the only thing happening is a some strat rocket flying over head, of some form of ordnance blowing up on the ray shield. Who knows.
My squad was either peeking over the trench, of sitting playing sabacc, and I pass the time by judging their faces, trying to figure out where they come from, but when they're just sitting there waiting for something to happen they look so… empty, only the fresh meats have any sense of who they were before they joined, but if they live it won't last. That's not what gets me though. It's the look they give me when they return the gaze. They all know my reputation, and it's one of the many reasons they're as empty as they are. They're already counting the minutes.
A robotic voice behind me causes me to jump. "Orders Commander."
After adjusting my helmet I gaze up at the faceplate of an old B1 Battle Droid. I let out a sigh. "I don't know… Stand there, and wait for something to happen like the rest of us. You know the drill Gazer."
"Roger roger." He doesn't move, but just gazes out into space, not really focusing on anything which is odd for most of the refurbished B1 droids in the army which were either bought of merchants, or some of the few B1 droids that the CIS actually sent to this planet. Gazer was one of them, and we found him in the mud, and in good order. Short battery charge later , and he was up and running, and this was the end result of all that.
My thoughts are cut short as I feel the ground slightly shake from an explosion, and after standing up I could see the smoke off in the distance, that was when someone yelled through my helmet's comlink saying. "The ray shield is down! I repeat the Ray shield is down!" And I didn't have a moment to think as an old Clone Wars era Venator comes out of hyperspace, and begins to bombard our position.
After getting tossed around a bit, and a sea of dirt tossed over me it stops, but it only signaled the opening of Hell's flood gates.
I yell out to my squad. "Defend this position!", and I line up along the trench wall aiming my rifle, and I'm surprised to see all squad members, including Gazer, lining up with me, as I hear the voices of Rebel soldiers charging. Out of the smoke their vehicles come charging, only to be stopped by our anti-vehicle turrets, but those vehicles were not meant to break the line, only provide a means of cover for their troopers.
I see them already gathering behind the burning wrecks of the vehicles, and seconds latter the air is filled with blaster fire as they open up.
I yell out. "Return fire!" and I squeeze the trigger. My blaster kicks against my shoulder as I spray the air with more blaster bolts, as our artillery begins to pound them, but with most of our artillery pieces destroyed in the bombardment they did little to stop the Rebel advance, even now they're pushing past the still burning wrecks, and using the craters from the artillery as cover, but I don't let up, and I don't let my squad let up, then all hell broke loose.
Without the ray shield protecting us Rebel Snipers were now able to unleash their years of training, and experience on us. It was time for the snipers to play, it was time for soldiers to die, it was time to live up to my name.
One by one my squadmates were shot, and killed. All of them except Nopaew, Gazer, and me. They were my last squad mates, but it was not to last.
I stood up to fire off my shots when I took a sniper round to my shoulder, and chest plate knocking me on my ass.
Gazer saw me go down, and said. "Commander down, cover me!"
"Copy that!" Nopaew still mounting his HMG began to fire towards the direction the sniper shots were coming from hoping to keep them suppressed.
Gazer made his way towards me, and I tried to signal him off trying to tell him my armor took the shots, but he ignored my orders, and kept coming towards me, and that was when a Rebel artillery shot landed right on him sending metal bits flying everywhere. Seconds later Nopaew gets concentrated on, and gets hit multiple time, and he just fell backwards off his HMG as I managed to stand up.
My helmet's HUD system began to malfunction so I tore off my helmet, and I limp my way towards Nopaew who I could see was still breathing,
I tumbled to his side, and I took his hand. He was crying, just like I was all those years ago. Rebels soldiers began to enter my trench, and some aimed their blaster at me as the rest of their comrades flooded further into the trench.
I held his bloodied hand, and looked into his eyes. I then noticed he was trying to saw something but he was to quiet, so I lowered my ear to his lips.
"You… you must be used to this by now? Right? Cursed Survivor?" His other hand patted my breast plate, right on the engraving I made. 'Cursed Survivor', and under it, four tally marks each representing a squad I've lost.
His hand then went limp, and the focus faded from his eyes as he let out one last breath.
I sat there, three Rebel soldiers circling me aiming their blaster at my head. I sat there as I rubbed the spot where my hidden blaster pistol was, and realized just how much I hated this war.
They were now coming closer, and one said. "Hands up! You're outnumbered! Just surrender!"
My hand wrapped around the pistol's handle, but right before I could pull it out another Rebel Soldier said. "What's that! It's… IT'S IMPERIALS!" The Empire as arrived.
I looked up towards the sky as I saw an Imperial Star Destroyer come out of hyperspace right in front of the Rebel Venator. I watched as it ripped apart the Rebel ship sending it's ragged remains hurtling towards the planet. I watched as Imperial gunships, and TIEs fill the sky. I still watched as Imperial StormTroopers flooded the trench massacring the Rebel soldiers leaving no survivors. I watched as one StormTrooper walked over to me, and offered his hand to me, and I took it.
I had to ask. "What's your name?"
"TK-0705."
I found that funny. I couldn't even remember my identification number. "I'll simply call you TK." and he handed me a blaster.
"Works for me. What's yours?"
I smile as I check the blaster. "Nickie. Commander Nickie."
"Well Commander Nickie. We have work that needs to be done."
I watched as five squads under my command were killed by the Rebels. Then the Empire arrived, and all that changed.