Year 13, Month 08, Day 10

IJN Shigure, 27th Destroyer Squadron

Solomon Star System

Slowly and silently, the Imperial Japanese destroyer Shigure drifted through the darkness of space, accompanied by three other destroyers on the outer edges of the system, the ships running on minimal power to keep themselves from being discovered. Commander Tameichi Hara stood on the bridge, his hands behind his back, staring into the void. Around him, the bridge crew were working at their stations as they prepared for the raid they were to begin in ten minutes.

The fight for the Solomon system, a system with gas giants with several inhabitable moons, had been a long a difficult one, and one that he had not expected to find himself in when he had died back on Earth. He didn't know why this had happened and it had shaken him to the core. He had seen his homeland defeated once before by the Americans and to see it again was a nightmare. He knew that Katania was doomed to lose the war, but there was loyalty to the Emperor that he had to consider. He had awoken aboard a destroyer that carried the same name as the one he had commanded in the Pacific War, fighting the battle for Guadalcanal. Upon first arriving, he did not know what to do. Was he to fight in a war and once again see his country lose, or surrender himself? When he realized that he had others under his command to think about, he chose to do his duty and fight, if only to ensure that those under his command would live. After several weeks of fighting, he soon learned about how the Terran Sector was part of an even larger conflict, with his new homeland siding with a group that he had mixed feelings over, and was unsure of their stability in the long run.

"Sir, five minutes until the jump into hyperspace," the navigational officer reported, looking up from his screen.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Hara replied, giving the officer a nod of acknowledgement. He brought his thoughts back to the task at hand. This was one of the last orders that Admiral Yamamoto had issued before his "reassignment" to Tokyo, but many knew what it truly was. Punishment for not protecting the Confederate fleet when it arrived in the sector. He was glad to know that one of the greatest naval flag officers had managed to survive further than his counterpart on Earth, and he had managed to speak with the man personally, if only for a few minutes.

"All personnel reporting at battle stations," the operations officer reported.

"Turbolaser batteries and other weapon systems are on standby, sir" the weapons officer said soon afterward, and soon, all stations reported they were ready.

Commander Hara gave the navigational officer a nod and he reached for a set of levers. "Prepare to enter hyperspace." Soon the stars became starlines, and the destroyer squadron began their short journey into the heart of the Solomon system.

Their mission was a raid to destroy a supply convoy that was bringing important reinforcements and equipment for the Americans that were fighting on the last few moons of the primary gas giant. Katanian High Command had finally realized that the system was near impossible to hold and had called for an evacuation of the islands, but that didn't mean that the Katanian Navy was going to do nothing. His assignment was supposed to be easy, at least according to the intelligence reports that he had received, but he remembered how "reliable" they had been on Earth, and this had not changed his opinion on such matters. All he could hope for was that he and his squadron would survive the engagement and return unharmed.

"Commander, we are exiting hyperspace in five…four…three…two…" the pilot pulled back on the hyperdrive's levers, bringing the ship back into normal space.

Commander Hara cursed, and he was far from the only person on the bridge or squadron to do so. Instead of appearing near the American convoy, they had dropped out in the middle of an American task force of three carriers and their escorts. "Begin evasive maneuvers and fire weapons. I want proton torpedoes and missiles fired on a full spread. If it doesn't put it on the path of one of ours, I want one that vector. Turbolasers are to fire on the closest American vessel. Have all ships to begin calculations for a jump out of the system." The crew began to work at a lightning pace. From the bridge, he could see the launching of dozens of torpedoes and missiles toward the enemy task force.

"What's the status of the enemy fleet, Lieutenant?"

"I'm detecting a lot of communications between the ships about us, but when we fired, all of them began panicking," the sensor operator reported. "Many are conducting evasive maneuvers to avoid the missiles and torpedoes, but it won't keep them occupied for long." As if to drive the point on his statement, several laser bolts arched toward them and impacted the shields, shaking the vessel from the impacts.

"Commander, shields are down to 91% strength," the operations officer reported. "We'll lose shields in five minutes if we don't jump soon."

"Status of those calculation, Lieutenant?" Hara asked, trying not to lose control of the situation. He had never experienced something like this before. Not even the close quarters naval fighting in the Solomons on Earth was like this.

"We need another minute before a safe jump has been calculated out of the system," he reported.

"What's the status on the rest of the squadron?"

"All ships indicate they have received light to moderate damage, sir," the sensor operator reported. "All ships are continuing to evade what fire we can and fire at targets of opportunity."

A bright flash erupted from their starboard, and the destroyer listed to port slightly. "Sensors: Report."

"A cruiser just hit us with one of their heavy turbolaser batteries, sir. Shields are down to 79%. The other vessels are reporting reduced power to shields. The American ships are beginning to concentrate their fire on us."

"Damn it all," Hara whispered. "Nav, get us out of this situation, now!"

"Sir, heavy weapons have been exhausted," the weapons officer reported, panic beginning to slip into his voice. "Laser battery crews are still firing at targets of opportunity."

"Heavy cruiser approaching from bearing 330, elevation 36 degrees. ETA until we are in their weapon's range: twenty seconds."

"Computer has just calculated the jump, sir," the nav replied.

"Take us out of here, Lieutenant."

"Sir, that cruiser will be on us before we enter," the sensor operator cried. He was near panic and it was beginning to spread to the rest of the bridge.

Commander Hara was beginning to feel it himself. Fear was the main enemy of battle, and was more deadly than any bullet or shell or weapon, and he realized that he just may die here today. He thought about whatever being had sent him to this galaxy, and how it could have allowed this to happen to him. Why had it removed him from a place of eternal rest to a war that he did not want to fight? To be with the spirits of his family back on Earth was what he wanted, but now he was here to die in a war that he didn't fully identify with. His inner thoughts were soon interrupted by a ship moving across the view of the bridge. He first thought that it was the American cruiser, but the identification code revealed that it was the destroyer Shiratsuyu was moving to intercept and block the cruiser.

"Comm, bring up Commander Matsuda," Commander Hara ordered. "Ask him what he is doing."

The officer sent the question, all the while, they could see the destroyer engaging the cruiser, absorbing the impacts as it fired its weapons at the American ship. "He says that he is ensuring the commander of the 27th Destroyer Squadon survives the battle, and that we are to leave him so that we may escape."

Commander Hara felt conflicted about this. He did not want to die, but for a ship commander and his crew to offer themselves to save his life was an act that he did not expect to see. He couldn't allow such a thing to happen, but his will to live overcame his emotions. "Tell Commander Matsuda: Thank you, and that we will not forget his sacrifice."

"Engaging hyperdrive," the nav reported, and pulled back in the levers. Soon, the battle around them disappeared as the stars turned into streaks, and the swirls of hyperspace enveloped them.

...

One Day Later

New Guinea System

Katanian-occupied Niugini

Commander Hara sat in his quarters, looking over the damage reports of his three surviving ships that had survived the botched raid. Both had received moderate damage before entering hyperspace, but they would all be in the spacedocks for at least a month each until parts could be salvaged from other ships. He was fortunate to have survived that engagement to begin with, but the loss of a destroyer, and its commanding officer was something that he had never become used to, even back on Earth. He realized that once again, Katanian Intelligence was wrong on what to expect, and had been fortunate that he had not been killed as a result. He knew that it was his flexibility in combat that allowed him to survive, and it was something that he tried to pass to this fellow commanders in the squadron.

The holoprojector on his desk beeped, and letting out an annoyed huff, he turned it on, and was surprised to see Admiral Mineichi Koga standing. "Good afternoon, Commander," he said, in a firm tone. "I wanted to tell you personally that you did a good job with the assignment that you had been given. I am sorry that our intelligence was wrong and that it resulted in the loss of one of your destroyers and its crew and commander."

"Thank you, Admiral Koga. I am sure that will comfort the families of those who died," he said in a not quiet sarcastic tone. "They should be honored to know that their families died for the Emperor." The image of Admiral Koga was too small to see the details, but he was sure that he saw the admiral bristle at the statement.

"I wanted to let you know that this may turn out to have been a blessing in disguise," Koga explained. "From the information we had gathered from your ships' computers, we've been able to ascertain that several of the ships had been heavily damaged, and you managed to hit one of the carriers. We were unable to establish how damaged it was, but we are certain that it was successful in hitting the engines."

"Thank you, Admiral," Commander Hara replied. "I was just trying to ensure that we all escaped. It was nothing really special."

"I also wanted to tell you that those on the General Staff in Tokyo had already read the report and this will be a great morale boost for those of the Katanian Empire. You can expect to receive much recognition for this great act."

"Thank you, Admiral. With all due respect, I would like to get back to the operations of my squadron. We received damaged on all ships and I need to help in overseeing the repairs."

"Of course, Commander," the admiral said with a nod. "I will leave you to your task. Have a good day."

"And you as well, Admiral." The projector switched off and Hara was already dreading the recognition he would receive for this. He remembered well what the people in Tokyo would do. They would call this a daring raid against the foreign devil Americans where four destroyers destroyed over twenty vessels by themselves, with one that didn't return destroying either a battleship or carrier in a blaze of glory. The thought if such lies by the propaganda machine sickened him, and it was a dishonor to the men who sacrificed themselves to protect him and his crew.

"For the glory and honor of the Emperor," Hara said to himself, and winced at the statement. How could this be honorable if most of the Admiralty didn't understand how to fight a war against the United States? His superiors were using what amounted to cavalry tactics to fight naval battles. Very few of them truly understood the role that fighters and bombers could play in combat and from what he had hear, they were planning on dividing their forces in the face the Americans when they should concentrate their efforts. Most importantly, Tojo, and the rest of the Imperial government, simply did not appreciate the speed with which the Americans could develop new weapons and realizing that this would be a war of attrition.

Shaking his head at the thought of everything, he saw that he would once again fight a losing war against the Americans, and that he would no doubt be one of the few to survive. On Earth, he had been a loyal and aggressive commander up to the end of the war, one of the only ship commanders to survive the entire Pacific Conflict. He saw his beloved Japan reduced to a third world nation, and died right when it was beginning to return to the global stage. Loyalty to the Emperor could only take you so far, especially when you were reliving a nightmare you knew was going to end badly. What was a man to do when in a situation such as this? He closed his eyes, saying a small prayer to kami for help, but the only response he heard were those of his ship.

Year 13, Month 08, Day 20

LST 325, Allied Invasion Fleet

Roma System, Norian Empire

Caporale Antonio Caruso gripped his weapon as the transport shook from entering the atmosphere. This would be the second time he had been fighting on the planet Roma. The first time, his entire regiment had been pulled back from the fighting on Roma to rebuild, having suffered close to fifty percent casualties. Most of those deaths had been the result of the Getov military that brought artillery onto a ridge overlooking his regiment's position. He whispered a silent prayer as he heard debris hitting the outside of his transport. He didn't want to die, but he also didn't want to see his home turn into a puppet of the Getov leadership.

Caruso had supported Mussolini in the beginning. His country was in shambles and needed a strong leader to bring them through the Great Depression. The man had promised to bring Noria back onto the world stage, and had been successful, allowing for Noria to reclaim territory that was rightfully theirs after the end of the Great Terran War. That changed when Mussolini arrested the King and his family, an act that proved very unpopular among a people who were tired of fighting.

"Approaching LZ," a voice cam over the internal PA system. "Five minutes."

Caruso took that moment to check over his gear. His sergeants had made it a point to always check your gear, and with these new American weapons, he wanted to be as familiar with them as with his first love. He admired the Garand blaster rifle he had. It was built better than the Carcano blaster carbine he originally had been issued and fired more bolts, a bonus in his opinion, and one that was shared by many others. The cargohold was filled with the sounds of vehicles starting up as commanders started their Sherman battle tanks, another gift from the Allies, and everyone took their positions.

"Listen up, soldiers!" the regiment's sergeant said over the comm. "Last time we were here, Il Duce showed his true self by kidnapped our king and supporting the Huns in invading our homes, showing us just how much they've changed from the days of the Roman Empire. Nothing but a bunch of savages. Well, now the Roman Legions are returning to reclaim what is rightfully ours. We are going to kick the Huns out of our country, and after that, we are going to push strait toward the heart of their so called Third Reich, showing them that the Norian military is a force to be reckoned with!"

"LZ, ninety seconds away," the PA system announced.

"I know what I am going to be doing," the sergeant said, continuing his rant. "I am going to walk right into Il Duce's office and skewer the traitor with my vibrobayonet, ass first."

Caruso looked at a few of the others around him and saw several of them grin at the sergeant's statement. A few grim chuckles came from those who had not seen any action, lessening the tension and nervousness of the green soldiers.

"When those doors open, the tanks are going to move in first, then we follow to support them. Remember your training. Keep your head down and blaster raised. You can't shoot someone if your rifle is pointed at the ground."

"LZ thirty seconds," the PA announced as a particularly large thump struck the front of the transport, causing the whole vessel to shake.

"When we land, don't stop running! Men get killed when they stop running! God help you if you do get men killed, because I will personally make sure to take it out of your ass."

A mechanical sound was heard and the vessel shook as the hydraulics absorbed the weight of the transport as it began setting down on solid ground.

"On your feet!"

All men within the transport stood up, holding their weapons at the ready.

"Fix vibrobayonets!"

The men attached the long vibroblades onto the ends of their blasters, the latch locking them into place. The front of the transport opened up, revealing a chaotic scene in front of them. Tanks were already moving forward with infantry supporting them. It was something that Caporale Antonio Caruso was familiar with. He could feel a something growing inside of him, a primal urge that both terrified and invigorated him. He had felt this before that last time he had fought on Roma, when he and five others had charged a repeating blaster nest and he had plunged his vibrobayonet into the Getov soldier who manned it.

As the tanks began to move down the ramp, the sergeant shouted, so loud that he didn't need to use the regiment's comm. "Forward, men!"

...

Caporale Caruso crouched low in the rubble that was one a small village, ducking between piles. The initial wave of tanks had encountered a series of defensive structures, creating a field of fire on the exposed landing parties. He had seen several men fall to the bolts of the defending soldiers, and had been almost too close when a rocket had caused a tank to explode. The fighting had become very close-quarters when the first lines had been reached, with the vibrobayonets coming into play more than the actual rifles.

A couple of squads ran forward, moving a few at a time to give the enemy as small a target as possible, providing covering fire to allow other to move ahead of them. Caruso peeked over the ruble, noticing a small path that looked as if it led through to the next line of trenches and was heavily defended. Motioning three other soldiers who had accompanied him, he pointed toward the path and grabbed his thermal detonator. The others did the same and after pressing the switch on them, tossed them overhead, landing on the other side of the debris and causing a huge explosion.

Caruso ran forward, keeping low. He saw a Getov soldier rise up from behind the rubble, and fired out of reflex. He managed to see the soldier fall back from a hit to the shoulder. As he continued to move, three more men were killed, two with blaster shots and the third with a stab from his bayonet.

By now, other soldiers were following him or moving through other breaches in the defenses. Taking a moment to catch a breath and to make sure his blaster was still charged, he looked to his left to see several other soldiers crouched, some of them with cocky grins on their faces. Their uniforms were similar to those of the Americans, but their skin was darker, but not as if they were from the Afrikana Region of the sector. It wasn't until he got a good look at their patches and heard that they were speaking Portuguese that he figured it out. These were members of the Brasillian Expeditionary Force, and from what he had heard, were some of the bravest, and craziest soldiers out there. One of them, with the name Silva on his jacket, sketched a quick salute at Caruso as he grinned before he and those with him went around the rubble they were taking cover behind.

Caruso simply shook his head at the actions of the BEF in disbelief. If I ever meet those guys after this is over, I'm going to buy them drinks on me, he though. Taking one last breath, he ran through the gap and toward the sounds of battle.

...

General Rommel's tank moved strait toward the defensive line that covered the landing area, the rest of his tank platoon following him close behind, with infantry supporting them. Several of the bunkers were attempting to destroy the tanks, but the shields of the Shermans were able to withstand the barrage, at least for the moment until they could get in close enough to fire the main gun.

"Bunker, straight ahead," Rommel said calmly.

"Identified!" the gunner announced.

The breech opened and closed as a shell was placed in. "Gun loaded!"

"Fire!" Rommel ordered, and was met with the tank shaking as the bolt flew downrange and impacting the bunker. When the smoke cleared, the bunker still stood, firing its cannon. Rommel cursed and ordered another round to be loaded. When the cannon roared again, he could see the bunker explode, and it wasn't the only one. The rest of the tanks in his platoon fired their main guns, breaking open a large hole in the lines. He could see soldiers, either Getov or Norian fascists pulling back.

Rommel switched his comlink on to the rest of the platoon's frequency. "All tanks advance. Infantry will support us as we advance." He felt the tank move forward and he took that moment to stick his head out the copula. Looking up, he could see fighters dashing through the sky, those of the Allies fighting the fascists for domination. He knew that this would be a tough battle, but it would be a sign to the rest of Europa that the Allies were going to win this war. He heard a faint whining in the air, and it sounded familiar to him. It took him several seconds before he remembered what it was, but by then, the whine had become louder.

"Stuka!" the soldiers around him yelled, diving for cover.

Rommel buttoned up the hatch as three Stuka gunships moved through the sky at low altitude, the characteristic cry heard even inside the tank. "All tanks spread out! Infantry, scatter!" He looked down at the readout in front of him and could see them coming from 2 o'clock; by that time, the tank was moving quickly in reverse.

"Rocket's ready, sir," the gunner announced. "Locked on to the leading target."

"Fire!" Rommel commanded, and a trail of smoke showed the path the projective was following. The other tanks had followed with their own rocket launches, with the infantry firing their rifles at the approaching gunships. Two of the three Stuka exploded in a large ball of flame as the rockets hit their target. The last one, however, seemed to have been blessed. The rockets that were aimed toward it seemed to veer off course when they approached, the Stuka making a beeline toward Rommel's formation.

"Shoot that Stuka down!" Rommel said, almost yelling. He had survived many attempts on his life, and he did not want to experience another.

The gunship was fifty meters away when it was hit in the side by a rocket. Rommel took a quick glance to see a man with an anti-tank bazooka that had just been fired, a hit that was no doubt difficult to make with a non-guided munition. The Stuka fell to the ground, but was moving so fast that it continued to move toward Rommel's tank. He didn't have time to say anything before the gunship hit.

Rommel could smell smoke and he opened his eyes to see that he was still alive. He looked around him and saw that the outside of his tank was on fire, and that smoke was beginning to pour in through some of components. "Bail out!" he yelled, he hearing suffering from the explosion. He looked down at the gunner and shook him, and the man soon grabbed his head. Rommel looked around him to see that he and the gunner were the only ones who were alive. The others had debris sticking out of them. "Come on, we're bailing out!"

Opening the hatch and could feel the heat all around him. Pulling himself up, he leaped behind the tank and was joined by his gunner and a few of the soldiers who had been escorting his tank platoon. "Are you okay, sir?" one of them asked.

Rommel took a moment to try and gather himself. He had fought in so many battles, but that was probably the first time that he felt as though he wasn't going to make it. "I'm fine," he said finally. "Get me a radio."

Rommel soon began to experience infantry combat for the first time a several years. The rest of his tank platoon was sticking close to his location, forming a perimeter around him and the soldiers. There were a more than one attempt by the Norian and Getov soldiers to try and attack, but they were discouraged by the arrival of Spirfires in the air.

Rommel fired his blaster several times, but he felt naked without the armor or shield that his tank had given him. After several minutes of intense fighting, two more tank platoons, with infantry and other vehicles, came up behind them. Rommel walked up to the senior officer and told them to move forward, giving the same order to what was left of his tank platoon, but not before he borrowed the comm set. He switched it to the quartermaster's frequency. "Colonel Buckley, this is Rommel."

"What do you need, sir?" the Kannatian quartermaster asked.

"I need another tank, colonel. My last one was hit by a Stuka."

"Where am I supposed to get another tank, general," the quartermaster asked, some humor slipping into his voice. "It's not like I can just throw water on a box and one magically appears."

"Colonel, you managed to equip the entire Royal Norian force for this invasion. I think you can manage this," Rommel replied.

A sigh was heard on the other end. "I'll do what I can, general, but I can't promise that it will be a tank. You might have to settle for a command vehicle."

"Just get me back in the fight. I can take it from there."

Year 13, Month 08, Day 27

In orbit of Chin

Katanian-occupied Bamar

Captain Dokai Gemedi, commanding officer of the Lucrehulk battleship Defiler, walked across the bridge. On one side, the crew were at their stations, working on the various assignments needed to keep a vessel such as his working. On the other side, he could see out into space and the planet Chin, a backwater planet in a backwater sector. One that was currently being fought over by the Allies and those of the Katanian and Confederate military.

"Captain," said an electronic voice.

He turned to see a droid walking up to him, a datapad in its hand. "What is it?"

"These are the latest reports on the situation on the surface," the droid answered, handing him the datapad. "You said you wanted them as soon as they were finished."

"Thank you," he said calmly. The droid turned and left and he began to curse the Allies.

When he had first heard that the fleet that he was part of would be moving to the Terran Sector, he believe that it would be an easy victory. That the superior technology and numbers of the Confederacy would sweep the American fleet from the Pacifica Region and then move toward the Atlantica to assist the Getov Reich. However, that first day in the Terran Sector had shown him that the Americans were not as easily defeated as he originally thought. The ambush that the fleet had suffered had resulted in close to a third of the ships destroyed, while the rest were cannibalized to keep the others working, resulting on half of the fleet that had arrived being combat ready.

How dare they, he thought. It was a statement that he had said to his crew and himself on more than one occasion. The Americans were as corrupt as the Republic whom they had based themselves on. Nothing but a bunch of power-hungry politicians who only thought how they could advance their own agenda.

Looking down at the datapad he had been carrying, he read the latest reports from the planet. When he had been given orders to report to the Bamar Front, he was angry that he would not have the chance to get back at the American military, but he had relented after being talked to by the new commander of the Katanian Combined Fleet, saying that the Imperial Army was in need of the droids that his vessel could provide. So he reluctantly accepted it. He had heard that the Kunian military was in a terrible state from the Katanians, and that they would fold after experiencing the might of his battleship. When his ship had exited hyperspace over the planet, the Allied fleet had been pushed back, losing several ships. He had then sent a quarter of the droid forces on board his vessel to the surface on the planet, with an orbital bombardment that hit several formations on the surface. His actions had brought about a route that had pushed the Allies back at numerous locations, until once again he had been attacked by the Allied raiders.

"Damn those ships," he muttered. They were a pain and were not a proper way to fight a war. He had had to resort to using the Katanian escort ships as a screen to prevent it from happening again, but that didn't stop the raiders from laying mines and sending the occasional proton torpedo in his direction.

He shook his head in frustration. He wanted to take his ship and move toward the surviving Allied vessels and destroy them, not to mention bombard the Allied forces on the surface into oblivion, but he had to be careful. He did manage to destroy several Allied vessels that were to reinforce the Army on the surface, and was using his droid fighters to swarm any ships that were vulnerable. He had learned that they were fighting a different kind of war than the rest of the galaxy. He agreed with the Katanian military that these soldiers of the Allies didn't deserve surrender, and he had made it a point to order the droids to kill every Allied soldier, whether they be from Bamar, America, Kunia, or Albion. After what they had done to the fleet and the way they had done it, none of them deserved it, and he was going to make sure that his name and ship would strike fear into those of this theater.

...

Outer Defensive Perimeter

Hakha, Chin

Allied-controlled Bamar

Dusk was beginning to set in; columns of smoke rose from all over the area. Two of the greatest were from a couple of crashed transports that had been brought down when the Separatist warship arrived in orbit. Others were from burning debris from fighters, or vehicles that had been caught in the artillery bombardment that the Katanians and Separatists. The ones coming from the landing zone were from a small troop transport and two fighters that had collided while trying to avoid droid fighters at night. The arrival of the Separatist ship had turned a campaign that was beginning to gain momentum into a stalemate where neither side was able to gain an advantage over the other.

The Allies on the planet had lost several key locations across the planet, and the fighting had turned into holding back the enemy's assaults until they could regroup and go on the offensive again. Unfortunately, everyone knew that this theater of the war was one of the lowest priorities, and reinforcements and supplies would be slow to arrive in the area. When the Separatist ship had arrived, the commanding officer on the ship had wasted no time in sending landing craft down to reinforce the Katanian forces that for the first time, had been retreating. The reinforcements had turned the fight around and the Allies had to withdraw to almost where they had been a few months prior. So far, the Allied lines held, with a combination of Mandalorian, Kunian and other allied nations, and aliens.

Major Zhang Yong grabbed the grenade that had been thrown into the trench line that he was in, then shot the droid that was walking toward him in the head. As the droid collapsed, he looked over the edge to see that dozens more coming toward him. He saw two droids rolling toward his location.

"Droideka!" a female voice beside him cried out, followed by two quick blaster shots that destroyed one and the other was destroyed by the grenade that Yong had thrown earlier.

Yong looked to his left to see a female, blue-skinned Twi'lek, her blaster rifle pointing down range as she took several carefully aimed shot, destroying several more battledroids. He moved down the line, reaching a gun emplacement that was using a salvaged cannon from a Sherman. The crew, made up of Wookiees and humans, fired a round into a Katanian tank. The vehicle came to a stop as the bolt of energy slammed into the side armor, the vehicle exploding in a brilliant flash. The crew readied the cannon again and seeing another tank, waited for it to come into range and fired. This tank was hit just under the repulsorlifts and began to billow smoke. The tank's hatches flew open and the surviving crew attempted to bail out. Another Twi'lek, this one's skin a shade of purple, fired four quick shots, killing the survivors. The Wookiees took that moment to let out a roar and fired on the infantry that had been moving up with the tanks. The infantry took cover and began to move forward, taking turns advancing, while the droids continued to move forward.

The Wookiees began to man-handle the cannon into another position while the rest of the crew concentrated on firing on the advancing infantry. This was the third attempt at a breakthrough for the Katanian military in this area with armored support, but they all had been pushed back. This one, however, had him worried. With the near limitless numbers of the droids, they may very well be overwhelmed despite their successes.

"Fighterrrrs!" a Wookiee bellowed.

The Major looked up to see a flight of droid attack craft moving into toward the trench line, firing missiles as they approached. As he and others dived for cover, a couple of missiles were launched from further behind the lines, destroying one of the four while the remaining three continued pounding the tranches.

Their bombardment didn't last long. A flight of American P-40 Warhawks, flew in, causing the droid craft to turn and try to make a break for friendly space. One was brought down immediately with the remaining two peppered with laser fire until they were shot down also. Two more flights of P-40s flew in, these dropping bombs on the advancing Kantanian and droid forces, following up with several strafing runs. The attackers began to stall and then began to pull back, the fighters continuing to harry the retreating forces.

A cheer began spread through the lines and for the first time, Lieutenant Yong noticed the shark's mouth painted on the nose of the fighters. "The Flying Tigers," he said, a grin forming on his face as the fighters continued to circle the area. He looked to his right to see the purple-skinned Twi'lek, a small smile on her face as she looked around to survey the damage. When he had first met these aliens, he didn't much care for them, but he realized that perhaps he had been wrong in his assumptions. They weren't foreign devils like he had been told, or something to be feared or be suspicious of. General Sun had been right to include them in the fighting, and they had proven to be some of the most loyal and dangerous fighters. He would gladly sacrifice himself for one of them if it came to it.

...

Kunian 1st Army HQ

Hakha, Chin

Allied-controlled Bamar

General Sun Li-jen, now commander of the Kunian 1st Army, looked over the planetary situation. He was still becoming used to the new position, having been given the command after General Cheng Tung-kuo's transport had been destroyed when they had arrived within the system, swarmed by droid fighters from the Separatist battleship. It was a promotion he had wanted, but the circumstances could have been better. What he enjoyed even less than the command he had been given was the operation that he was taking part in.

General Stillwell had pulled him off the offensive operations in the Assam System and given him the assignment of being the spear point for an offensive into Katanians occupied Bamar. It was an offensive that Stillwell claimed would be the first step in reopening the Bamar Route, but Sun had his doubts. He knew how an operation like this on Earth panned out, it was slow and in the end was redundant, but he could see how this operation would offer a pool of trainers for when he returned to Kunia.

The commanders in charge of the various operation on this front in the war were not happy at the current situation. General Stillwell was one who was fuming especially, saying at one time that the plans they had worked on were almost useless. Allied Command had not received any information that the Separatist battleship, Defiler, would be arriving within the system, and the surprise arrival of it had thrown operations within the system off. Stillwell had told his subordinates that the Katanians were beginning to change the codes that they used, and the advantages that the Allies had experienced early in the war would be lot until they could be broken again.

I suppose it was only a matter of time, General Sun though as he looked down at a datapad, comparing the orders it had to the movements that his formations were doing. The forces in Sector Victor-5 had received the brunt of the Separatist attack and they had almost collapsed. He had feared that he would have to deal with route that would leave a large hole in the lines, but several battalions had volunteered to help them hold and had proven successful. It was moments like that where he was both proud and sad. Proud that his men would volunteer and sad that he had lost men under his command. He was pleased, however, that they had accepted the various aliens into their formations as comrades and had made his army some of the most diverse in the theater.

Looking at the map, Sun could see several formations that were pulling back and rebuilding fortifications. Looking over the terrain, he remembered how he entered the fighting in the trenches itself with his Wookiee bodyguards and the Mandalorian mercenaries. No more of that. I'm in charge of an Army, and that means that I can't do foolish acts like that anymore. He sighed to himself. The map showed reinforcements moving up to the forward trenches. He had to almost beg for air support in that area, but he had successfully managed to convince the general in charge of fighters and bombers to send a couple of flights into that sector to ensure that he held. The fact that it was a flight from Flying Tigers was an unexpected bonus that would no doubt raise moral on the planet. They had been fortunate that they had stopped in the planet for fuel when they did.

Sun closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He sometimes thought that whatever being had done this had a sick sense of humor. To be fighting the Chinese Civil War again, but this time with space combat? Having to deal with Chang Kai-shek again was an aspect that he did not enjoy, especially now that he could receive some communications from him (an even bigger headache). Knowing what would happen to him in the future was a burden unto itself, which was one reason why he was being more political than he was originally. He had made a point to form friendships with several of the Allied commanders in the theater, mostly American, but also those from Albion, trying to make connections that could potentially prove useful in the future. That wasn't his only goal. He knew that one of the reasons why the KMT had lost the civil war on Earth was that there were not enough competent officers for the entire military, and that they lacked "loyalty" to the Changs. He intended to make the best officer corps for the Kunian Republic, and ensure that they were so good, that Chang and his followers wouldn't dare dismiss any of them if he wanted to win. It was playing politics, something that he believed should stay out of the military, but he knew that he may have to play this sort of game if Kunia was to survive both Katania and the communists. He just hoped that it would be enough.