Jai slipped in the mud, sliding onto his rear into the waterlogged bottom of the crater, and, temporarily safe and obscured from sight, could finally regain his focus on the battle.
Humanoid shadows danced in the fog and mist, black clouds enveloping the combatants, obscuring friend and foe alike in the inky air. Occasionally, one of the figures would jerk and cease its motions as a bolt slammed into it, tumbling to the ground and vanishing amongst the craters and puddles that made the surface of Mimban.
Ahead, a pair of mechanical legs stomped out of the gloom, silently splashing through craters and slippery shallow trenches. The box-like head of the beast was faintly visible, consumed by the swirling black cloud of burning vehicle and flesh alike. Out of the front protruded a long snout, the grey barrel marred by mud and battle-damage that spelt death to anything in front of it.
The head swung to the side to face the rebels, his friends, as Mudtroopers exchanged fire with the survivors of his battalion.
Jai struggled to his feet, blaster in-hand as he awkwardly stood up, ignoring the protests of his bruised and battered body, muscles screaming at him to drop the gun he now had affixed over an Imperial.
The gun boomed, the flash briefly lighting up the dark day as the shell whizzed towards its target, exploding mere seconds after it had left the barrel. Jai didn't hear the shot as much as he felt it, the concussive wave rippling through his nigh-unarmoured body even from where he was standing, far from the source of the wave.
Jai staggered back, eyes flickering along the ground for anything he could use.
Bodies. Bodies everywhere.
Bodies lining the craters, bodies making the ridges between them, whole bodies, parts of bodies, individual limbs and digits. All partially submerged in the mud and muck, faceless visors and contorted faces alike making a mockery of life.
He needed to take out that walker… the last Imperial artillery piece in this sector…
But there was nothing there. Everything was submerged under a sea of mud, a hellish mixture of waterlogged soil, oil, and blood turning it a sickening, gloopy morass that concealed everything from him.
Blaster fire erupted behind him, blue and red bolts flashing past him into the Mud troopers and Imperial Army soldiers who were finishing off the other group, and a pair of rockets whizzed by, one tumbling off course into the ground in front of him.
Jai instinctively ducked, the sudden shift in weight combined with the explosion sending him flying into the opposite flank of the crater, where he tumbled and slid into the puddle at the bottom.
The world spun into focus, head hammering painfully as he tried to focus. Blood dripped down from his forehead, dribbling a bloody contribution to the muddy plains of Mimban.
Beams of blue and red flashed overhead, so close he could reach out and touch them if he so wished, burning bright against the dark clouds and impermeable mist that consumed the battlefield.
He couldn't hear the twang of the blasters, nor the dull boom of the Imperial walker as it fired again, the rumble of the shot through the ground being the only indication as to its status. The plaintive screams of dying men had been lost too, lost long ago when his hearing had been snatched from him.
He couldn't see outside his crater, dull grey and mottled black clouds made up his view skyward, occasionally punctuated by flashes of colour as bolts of death flew overhead.
He couldn't smell anything either. His sense of smell had long been overwhelmed by the stench of death, nostrils scorched by sulphur and cordite.
All he was left with was touch.
He could feel the pervasive slime of the mud, clinging to the fabric of his clothes and the surface of his body.
He could feel the tremors in the ground as the heavy walker stomped along, advancing towards his remaining allies.
He could feel the gentle patter of rain on his face, washing away the days of mud, sweat, and blood caked onto his skin.
He was alive.
Slowly, he began to realise that the fire was abating. Fewer bolts were flying overhead, and less frequently. A rocket had passed overhead a minute ago, maybe two? And the walker had stopped thumping around.
Jai looked down, tearing his gaze from the uncaring sky and back down into his crater.
Like a miracle from some unknown deity, there lay a rocket launcher, loaded and sitting out of the mud on the body of a rebel, detached hand still clasping the handle.
He knew that a true hero of the Mimbanian Resistance would grab that rocket, stand up, and blast the walker, or failing that, whatever remaining Imperials stood on the battlefield with it. Then, he would be gunned down by the remaining Imperials, should any remain.
He was no hero.
The ground trembled again, the rhythmic thudding indicating something was moving, and Jai raised his head to look.
Like an omen of death, the AT-DT plodded into view, now missing a corner of the protective panel and greatly blackened, but otherwise still functional. It's drivers and the gun breech were clearly visible to him as it aimed to the side, searching for more targets.
Once more, his eyes flickered to the rocket launcher
He would stand, maybe he would manage fire the rocket before he was cut down by the remaining Imperials.
No, he was no hero.
Jai dropped his head back and stared at the swirling skies.
The Imperial walker continued to march, metal feet squashing the ground uncaringly, ignoring the corpses that made up the muddy hills. He could see it at the bottom of his vision, just the top, tracing its way along until it vanished out of sight.
The others were all dead or dying, his comrades cut down by the Imperials as they attempted to advance on the artillery, or blown to tiny pieces by the walkers. He was all that was left.
The Imperials still held the sector. Their lives had been wasted, attacking with suicidal fervour on a well-defended position.
A head emerged in the corner of his vision, soulless black eyes of the mudtrooper's helmet scanning the battlefield, looking for anybody who might've somehow survived.
Jai tilted his head to watch the trooper as he made his way along, picking his way over the bodies and clambering over a ruined sheet of durasteel as he followed the walker.
More Mudtroopers came into view as he looked, checking bodies of comrades, occasionally raising their blaster and executing a surviving rebel.
Another Imperial emerged into view, much closer than the others, and following the walker that'd passed by him a mere minute ago.
Unlike the others though, he was not a Mudtrooper. No mask hid the tight face, nor the horrified eyes as they traced over the broken bodies and discarded limbs.
The man stumbled and slid his way to the edge of Jai's crater, searching for living rebels, as he'd been ordered to.
The Imperial's eyes roamed the shellhole, looking over the shattered corpses of friend and foe alike, roaming up Jai's body.
The man's gaze found his.
Frightened eyes met frightened eyes, two enemies facing each other on the battlefield. One was armed and intact, backed by the Empire and with all the power. The other was alone and afraid, with no allies and completely helpless.
Jai waited for the man to shift and turn, to raise his blaster and fire. The thin, muddy uniform would do little to protect him from the Imperial's shot.
Instead, he looked away and began walking, picking his way over the bodies and wreckage.
Jai didn't know quite what to think. There was no quarter given on Mimban. Nobody spared the enemy unless they had to.
That was the way it'd always been.
He knew this was important, but he couldn't quite put his finger on how. The world seemed… lighter. Paler, and white, somehow more muted.
His head didn't hurt anymore either. He couldn't even the feel the blood as it ebbed out of his head and mixed into the mud.
Silently, the rebel turned his head skyward.
Skyward to the murky heavens of Mimban.
Author's Note:
Slightly different from the first story ("Reality of War"), this one is from a Mimbanian rebel's perspective (if you hadn't guessed, haha), with a bit less focus on the detail on weapons and vehicles and more on the situation. I was kind of inspired by the brief segment from Solo: A Star Wars Story, which featured the war on Mimban, but from the rebel's perspective, as best as I can manage it
If you want some more detail, the rebels on Mimban were the Mimbanese Liberation Army, fighting the 224th Imperial Armoured Division, who (ironically) trained them to fight the separatist invasion during the Clone Wars. They were made up of a number of species from what I can tell, not just native Mimbanese.
I will confess that this isn't my greatest piece of work ever, and that I'm not a great writer by any mark, but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless.