"Incoming's too hot!"
"FOR THE REPUBLIC!"
"Karabast! That was a troop transport!"
"What happened to 'softened defenses'?!"
"First wave ineffective! I repeat, first wave ineffective! We do not hold a landing zone!"
1 Hour Earlier
"ALL DROP TROOPS REPORT TO HANGAR BAYS THREE THROUGH FIVE FOR TRANSPORT BOARDING. HEAVY WEAPONS TEAMS REPORT TO BAY SEVEN FOR FINAL EQUIPMENT CHECK AND BOARDING."
Both clones and militia scrambled about. Some carrying their weapons, others crates of munitions. The Heldian HQ and all Republic installations in the sector were alive with the breath of warfare. Tanks and gunships were loaded and ready to go. This was it. If they succeeded here, the war on Heldia would come to a swift end and the Republic could return Heldia and its citizens to normal life.
"General, if I may, a word?" Krest said, stopping General Skitarr mid-step as she walked past him.
The Jedi folded both hands in front of her and turned to him. She may not have that hellfire in her eyes anymore but Krest still felt her steel gaze as he looked at him. In every battle, Krest was prepared to die. And this one was no different. But something inside him, made him decide that he needed to put these tensions with Skitarr to rest. If she wasn't going to improve then he was.
"Yes, what is it, Captain?" Skitarr said in her usual stoic tone that she adopted whenever she talked to him. At first, Krest was happy to adopt the same tone and even throw a passive-aggressive jab here and there. But at this point, he was just plain tired of it all. No sense in keeping a feud going if it lost all meaning.
"I have made up my mind about something." Krest began. He stared at the ground for a few moments before meeting her steely eyes with his own. "Despite whatever has happened in the past, despite whatever has come between us. I want to say that it is all in the past."
Skitarr looked confused. She no doubt knew what he meant, but Krest wasn't a wordsmith by any means.
"I see…" Skitarr muttered.
"Look, you can't undo what you did. Whatever your reasoning for-"
"Captain, I-"
"JUST, listen...this stops here and now. I forgive you, for whatever merit that holds to you." Krest sighed. Sometimes he wished he had the emotionlessness of a droid. It would make situations like this a whole lot easier. He brushed his matted hair back with one hand. It'd been a while since he got a touch-up. He grabbed his helmet from the table before putting it on and extending his hand. "We cannot undo the past, but hopefully by putting all of this behind us, we can pave a better future."
Skitarr looked at his hand, then at him. Her expression was first of confusion then it softened to one of gratitude as she shook his hand. And for the first time since they've met, she gave an endearing smile. As they shook hands a group of troopers approached them. Many were squad leaders while others were part of the artillery detachment. Krest's squad was there as well.
"Sir, everything is ready to go! Just awaiting your command." one of them reported with a quick salute.
"Right," Skitarr nodded, "Run a final check and board your transports."
"Yes, sir!" the trooper nodded and the crowd dispersed.
Krest took the moment to nudge her and whisper, "Say something to inspire them."
Skitarr nodded to herself and cleared her throat to regain their attention. "Uh, gather around men. I'd like to say something."
The troopers looked at each other with confusion. As they slowly gathered around her Krest quietly stepped back and left her at the forefront. As they did more men joined the crowd as it slowly grew.
"troo- I mean, men. I know I have not been the best General. Let alone one that is worthy of being commended as a leader. I'd be lying if I said I've tried to remedy that. I've done things that should have stripped me of my title, but here I stand." She raised her forearms and looked at the armor covering them. "I wear this armor in a vain attempt to look like the warriors you all are. You have all bled, sweat, and fought courageously in that armor. Every scuff, scratch, and dent is a testament to that. I am very fortunate to lead such brave men into battle. If you'll allow me. I'd want nothing more than to fight with you by my side. So that one day we can secure a brighter future. May the force be with you all." In front of her most of the men looked at each other and back at her. She knew if there was any time to prove herself to the men and the council, it'd be now. Her speech was short, but she hoped it did the job. As she scanned the crowd she could see a couple of the clones leaning over to one another.
"Well, well, well," Deuce whispered to Shaman. "Don't think I've seen this side of her. Kinda feel a bit inspired, no?"
"About time," Shaman scoffed.
The awkward silence was broken by the sound of clapping. Everyone looked over to see Krest and Arroyo clapping behind Skitarr. The applause slowly grew as the crowd began to join in. Krest stepped forward and took Skitarr's side with Arroyo. "Couldn't have said it better myself General."
"Right..." Skitarr cleared her throat. She felt her hands tremble, thankfully they were folded behind her back. That went well, she thought to herself. Brushing away her short hair from her eyes she gave a bow and looked over to Krest. "Captain, care to say some words of your own."
Krest nodded and stepped forward, removing his helmet. He looked upon the crowd of helmets. Some had unique markings, others had unique accessories, some were plain white. It was an officer's duty to make sure his men followed orders. But it was a leader's duty to lead by example. "First off I want to clear the air. I know me and the General have had our differences. Things were said and things were done. But this is war, and if we don't put aside whatever feud we've brewed, then we are unfit to lead you. So, I want to say that we've chosen to put everything behind us. From now on, we work together, as a team."
Murmurs of agreement resonated throughout the crowd, some nodding their heads.
"Now, take your helmets off everyone. If this day may be our last, then I wish for us to see your faces. The faces of my brothers and my comrades…" Krest took a deep breath as the crowd removed their helmets and he looked upon the faces of the only family he had. Some were not going to return, but this was war. He steeled his expression, adopting his usual authoritative tone, and continued. "Us clones were bred for war. It is all we've ever known. From birth, we were taught that it is our duty to fight and die for the Republic. I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we would all lay down our lives if it meant securing a better future. Yes, there'll be days where our faith is shaken, days where our own turn against us, days when our morale is sunk beyond the core of the planet itself. But the day will never come, that we forsake all that we stand and fight for. If we are to fall, then we fall side by side in the name of freedom, the Republic, and the people of Heldia who march with us!" Arroyo watched in awe as Krest spoke. To her, he truly looked like a leader. This was not some canned speech to rouse the troops, no. This was Captain Krest. Krest felt the momentum swell in his chest as his eyes became fiery and he pointed off to the distance. "We will take the battle to the Separatist traitors and storm Rakarth's fortress! For when the account of our efforts is retold to the generations that will exist long after us! Let them know that THIS WAS OUR FINEST HOUR!"
The crowd erupted in cheer as the men sounded a battle cry.
"You truly know how to inspire, Captain." Skitarr commended him. "You truly are fit for the job."
"I'm just doing my part ma'am." Krest nodded to himself. "I'm sure the men felt the same about your words as well."
"Well, whatever the case, let us get this mission underway," Skitarr said, turning on her heel to face the crowd. "Alright, everyone to your transports, we still have a war to win!"
The crowd quickly dispersed as everyone left to board their transports. As Krest ran towards his-helmet in hand- he was promptly pulled by the collar behind a stack of crates. Before Krest could react a pair of lips crashed into his. Except this time he didn't get up and leave. They held the kiss for a moment before breaking apart with a sigh.
"So that's the real Captain Krest, huh?" Arroyo said, caressing his cheek, looking up at him. "You know, I like the eye."
"That right?" smiled Krest, raising his eyebrows in mock astonishment.
"Yeah, it makes you unique..."
"FIRE!" The thunder of over ten artillery batteries shook the ground as the first volley of the siege was unleashed. When Grom and the rest of the artillery attachment arrived there was smoke already emanating from the fortress. Apparently, the Navy had bombed it during the night to maximize damage to its defenses. And the scouts reported that Rakarth had yet to leave. From the looks of it, it seemed the Navy managed to hit their targets dead on. But Grom knew that bombing runs were often inaccurate at best and although in a perfect world the anti-air batteries would've been flattened, he knew some if not a good number were still functional. Enough to cause serious damage. But then again, that's what the first wave is for. All he had to do was make sure he did his job so Krest and the boys could do theirs.
"First volley is sent, we'll continue artillery barrage until you arrive, Captain!" Grom reported into his wrist-comm. Krest replied with a quick "copy that" and Grom motioned for the batteries to ready another volley. His arm steadily in the air as he marked new targets before thrusting it forward. As his arm fell the symphony of thunderous roars returned. Grom couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as he felt the ground tremble with each shot. Hear that General? It's the Republic knockin'. Shoulda left this world alone. He thought to himself. "All batteries keep firing! I want that place flattened so the Captain will have a nice open area to land, copy!?"
"Crew six, copy that!"
"Crew nine, we'll make it spic and span!"
"Crew twelve, it'll be like they never existed!"
"Captain, you and the drop troops will clear out all remaining anti-air batteries and secure a landing zone to land the second wave of troops into the fortress," Skitarr said through her holographic projection in the LAAT's troop bay. Of course, each man had heard the plan several times already. Krest alone reread them whenever he could. As much as he prided himself in being able to withstand and dish out a good siege. He knew that an operation like this needed the exact opposite of static warfare. The precision they needed to have to pull this off was surgical. If they took too long, if they couldn't clear the way for the second wave. Then Rakarth could escape and this would all be for nothing.
"Leave it to us, General! See you on the wayside. " Krest replied.
"May the force be with you." Skitarr bowed before her projection disappeared. The troop bay was filled with clones and militia alike. Each one was equipped with jetpacks to make their drop and each one was wearing a stone-cold expression on their face. For the militia, this was their one chance to strike a crippling blow against the Separatist invaders. For the clones, this was just like any battle but one that was necessary to bring the war to a more swift end.
Krest took one last look at the fuel meters on his helmet display and looked around the cabin. Everyone was silent. "You all know what we have to do. Each soldier does their part and we'll come out on top."
"SIR, YES SIR!" the cabin replied.
A thunderous explosion erupted, muffled by the LAAT's sealed cabin. Then another and another. Each one got closer and closer until the entire gunship trembled violently. Some of the men stumbled as they gunship evasive action.
"Incoming's too hot!" cried the pilot over the ship's PA. "We have to AAAUGH!" The pilot cried out in pain before the PA abruptly fell silent.
"My escorts are overwhelmed! There weren't supposed to be any enemy fighters!"
"Green six is going down! Karabast, that's a troop transport! Green six! Come in Green six!"
"Mayday, mayday! I've lost all power!...twenty-two souls on board...we're going down!"
All Krest could hear was the screech of bending metal and an intense wave of heat. Before he knew it he felt weightless. Everything seemed to be spinning around him until he realized he was freefalling through the air, spinning as if he was a fighter with a damaged wing. His comms filled with the frantic overlapping chatter of troopers and pilots as chaos began to ensue.
(A/N: AND SOO IT BEGINS! Krest and the boys finally get their chance to hit back! Not to mention, Krest and Skitarr made peace! Thank you all for the support on Krest recently and with Bad Batch coming out soon, I'm hyped for more inspiration and Star Wars goodness and I hope you all are too! As always reviews, constructive criticism, and comments are always welcome! I know I say it almost every chapter in the author's note but I want to say again: I love you all for your kind words and support for this little story of mine. We've had a hell of a run and I hope we can keep it going for however long I can keep going! Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you in the next one!)