Of Empires and Federations

by MoKidd

Have you ever wondered what would happen if the Terran Federation from Starship Troopers and the Galactic Empire from Star Wars went to war? So have I. Let's find out.

p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Federation Network: Tension in Tyco/span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Following mounting tensions in the region, delegates from the Galactic Empire and the Terran Federation once again meet to negotiate territorial claims in the disputed Tyco System along the Empire/Federation border. Imperial propaganda continues to insist that the Federation military has been supplying weapons, advisors, and financial aid to the fledgling Rebel Alliance currently involved in the so-called Galactic Civil War, a claim which both civilian authorities and the military high command adamantly deny. With both Federation and Imperial settlements in the system, negotiations are expected to be tense. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Would you like to know more? /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Federal Network: Back off! /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Amid increasingly heated negotiations over territorial claims in the Tyco System, Fleet Command has now stated that Imperial warships have been spotted in orbit of the Tyco 4. Tyco 4 is a disputed planet within the Tyco System which is currently claimed by the Galactic Empire as a mining colony, although Federation claims predate those of the Empire. Many readers may recall that the Tyco System was taken from the Arachnid Empire during the Third Bug War. The system is sparsely settled, but Imperial encroachments on the system in the past few years have resulted in escalating tensions between corporate, civilian, and military interests in the region. No large bases have been discovered on Imperial-controlled Tyco 4 and Tyco 7; however Fort Patton on Tyco 2 has been the largest Federation outpost in the system since its conquest. Two Imperial light cruisers have been confirmed in the system, sparking calls for the Fleet to send Federation ships to the area as a deterrent. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Would you like to know more? /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Federal Network: Shots Fired! /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Sources within Fleet High Command have confirmed that a skirmish has taken place in the Tyco System between Federation and Imperial warships. Federation destroyer emUSS Mahatma Gandhi /emand an unknown Imperial light cruiser have exchanged fire in the stars above the uninhabited Tyco 6. Unconfirmed reports claim that the emMahatma Gandhi /emcame under fire from patrolling Imperial TIE fighters launched from the Imperial cruiser, which traded shots with the emGandhi /emin the upper atmosphere before fleeing the area toward the Imperial colony on Tyco 7. Neither ship was seriously damaged, and no casualties have been reported. Federation officials have condemned the incident as a blatant act of war as Imperial sources claim that the emGandhi /emfired upon the fighters first and that the Imperials acted in self-defense. Sources within Fleet High Command also stated that a suspected Imperial military buildup in neighboring systems has prompted the dispatch of a Federation battle group to Tyco, while Imperial networks claim that that supposed buildup is intended to carry out operations against Rebel Alliance forces in the region. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Would you like to know more? /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Federal Network: WAR!/span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Early this morning, Imperial space and ground forces invaded the Tyco System and have now destroyed the two Federation space stations in the system and have landed troops on Tyco 4 and Federation-controlled Tyco 2. Fort Patton is now under siege and Imperial ships have destroyed the USS emMedici /emand have left the USS emMahatma Gandhi /emseverely damaged. Sky Marshal Nobunaga has announced that these actions constitute an act of war and has announced that both the Fleet and the Mobile Infantry are being mobilized for a massive counter-offensive. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"NOBUNAGA: "This act of aggression will be answered, and we will make the Empire pay for every Federation life they have taken. Tyco will be avenged!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Would you like to know more? /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Lt. Benjamin Allen – 77supth/sup Mobile Infantry /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"0800 hours local time /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"stronguspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Tyco 2 – Carentan Massif /span/u/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The landing craft rocked and shook as we made our way toward the Massif. We were all ready to get into some action with the Empire after a month of being under siege from those Imperial bastards. Those of us that had been in Fort Patton were definitely ready to bloody the noses of the Empire after tall that they had done to us and the rest of the colonists on Tyco 2. Ever since the Imps had landed on the planet it had been a bloody, chaotic mess. First they had had taken Carentan Massif, the largest natural strongpoint on the planet's only habitable continent, then they had taken Bonaparte, New Paris, and then there was the massacre at Legion's Rest. The boys at the Rest were all hard as nails veterans of the First and Second Bug Wars, men and women who had fought at Klendathu, Planet P, Orion, and Mars. A lot of them were family to those of us at Patton. They had fought like hell and taken a thousand Imps with them, but between the Imperial air power and the overwhelming forces that were coming against them it was too much for even them. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe Imps had landed so fast that nobody was ready for it. We had been getting reports that Imperial forces were massing in nearby sectors, that squadrons of Star Destroyers and whole army groups were being called in to Imperial strongholds. We knew that an attack might come to Tyco, but no one could have guessed that it would come this hard and this fast. From what I'd heard, the Imperial Navy had dropped out of lightspeed just over Tyco 2 and Tyco 7 and immediately started dropping troops. Before anyone knew it, there were five divisions on the planet and six Star Destroyers over the atmosphere. The outer settlements fell in a matter of days and the few troops that we had in the field were pushed back to Patton with heavy casualties. TIE fighters were all over us before our fighters could clear their hangars, Stormtroopers and Imperial Army were closing in from all sides, and inside of a week we were cut off and under siege in the Fort. Luckily, as one of the senior staff sergeants had told us, that place was "built to be bombed." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanFort Patton had been built during the Third Bug War when the system had first been taken from the Arachnids. Everyone knew that the Bugs would want it back and they had built the fort to withstand a direct atmospheric bombardment. Ironically, the Bugs had had better guns than the Imps. Those Star Destroyers had been hammering the Fort hard since they came into orbit and been trying to glass the surface all around the base for weeks, but the walls and armor held. When that didn't work, they tried combined arms assaults from the Massif using artillery, heavy assets, and infantry. That was a mistake. If there was one thing we had gotten good at during the Bug Wars, it was defending against mass attacks. Six times they had tried to assault the Fort, and six times they had left with heavy losses. Now the Expeditionary Force was here, our Fleet was in the skies, and the Imperials had pulled back to Carentan Massif. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Listen up!", Captain Marshall yelled over the engines and the turbulence, "We all know the score, but here's the highlights. Our boys are coming up from south of the Massif and they're getting chewed up by enemy air and artillery. Fleet can't get eyes on enemy arty positions dug into that basalt, so we're going in to have a look-see. Air cover is spotty cuz the fleets are duking it out over the planet, so a lot of our boys are dying in the sky right now. Once we land, we hit it hard and sniff out enemy positions so we can call in fire missions from the Fort and we kill any Imperial sons of bitches we find along the way. Do you get me?!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"We get you, sir!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Load up and get evil, gentlemen!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanAll of us racked a round into our weapons and passed the "ready" sign down the line. The chop was getting heavy and the craft rocked hard back and forth. If it weren't for our harnesses, a lot of us would be bouncing off the bulkheads by now. To distract myself from the chop, I started running a mental check on my gear. M26 ballistic body armor rated for extreme threats, M3 tactical helmet, Mk II Combat Knife, 300 rounds of 7.62x48mm M207 steel-core, armor-piercing and expanding ammunition, and four M55 fragmentation grenades. My rifle was one of the new Morita Mk V's that came out during the last war. Thirty-round magazine, 22in bullpup barrel, integrated 4x magnified optic with a top-mounted red dot reflex sight, accurate range of 800 meters with a maximum effective range of 1200 meters. Mine was a standard infantry rifle, but a few of the guys had Grenadier models with an underslung 20mm grenade launcher. Henderson was the platoon sniper. His had that fancy new 1-20x variable scope with a self-adjusting reticle and a Mk V Marksman model. The guy could pit an ace at a thousand meters with that piece. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanSomething boomed outside the craft and my head nearly hit the ceiling, even with the harness. The pilot cursed in the cockpit and I felt my stomach churn as she pitched it into evasive maneuvers. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Ack-ack incoming! Hold on!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe anti-aircraft fire intensified, the booms and pops turning into to a constant rumble of explosions in the air on the other side of the hull from us. Any one of those shells could turn this boat into scrap metal with a direct hit. The captain switched on his headset and yelled at Baker, our comms man, for chatter. He yelled back that the division was held up a few clicks from the Massif and under heavy fire. The 42supnd/sup and the 208supth/sup were pushing forward on the north side of Carentan, the 8supth/sup and the 54supth/sup were pushing up on the south, and our heavy armor was advancing across the Bourbon Flats. They had balls of steel for even trying that. The Flats were poker table flat and almost four kilometers of wide open red dirt without so much as a boulder for cover. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanAnother ack-ack round exploded near the craft and threw us to one side. The pilots were cursing in the cockpit again, swinging us this way and that so hard that I looked to one side and lost my breakfast. I heard a big boom and then the vague sound of a thud somewhere below us. "Fuck," the pilot screamed, "Badger Four is down!", and it hit me that one of our other craft was gone. The fire came even thicker and she put us in a dive to get below it, then there came the sound of wrenching metal and a shake that scrambled my brains. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"We're hit! We're hit! India One Niner, this is Badger Six, we are hit and going down hard! I'll try to set us down on the X. We're going in hard! Brace for impact!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe next few seconds were a complete blur. Captain Marshall was barking orders, I could hear the roar of the fires in the starboard engine, the pilots were screaming at each other over the fire, the craft was shaking like a martini in a mixer, and then something hit us hard and the world went black. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI came to and someone was dragging me. The wind was whipping hard against my face and the coarse red dirt stung my face. I could smell the burning fuel, the hot metal, and something else that I had never smelled before. My head was swimmy and the world around me was fuzzy. Someone was shouting but I couldn't make out what was said, my ears were ringing so loud. Someone slapped me a couple times and I shook my head, then finally everything became clear again. Sergeant Graves was over me and Private Craig still had a hold of my armor. "I'm fine," I said as I waved Graves off, "I'm good, I'm good. Where's my weapon?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Who knows? Here, take this one. Smitty don't need it no more." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI looked over and saw Smitty, as we all called Corporal Smythe, and I was glad that I had already hurled on the boat in. A piece of the bulkhead had taken off his legs at the waist and his innards were all over the ground. His dead eyes were staring up at the twin suns, but he was far beyond being able to enjoy the subtle beauty of the morning. Graves picked up Smitty's rifle and dropped it in my lap. It was a Grenadier model. Instinctively I checked the chamber and the magazine, then I checked the chamber on the grenade launcher. It was the standard Risotti Mk 14span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanpump-action and held three rounds of 20mm high-explosive grenades. I took Smitty's grenade belt from what was left of his waist and slung it around my own, then got to my feet. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanOur landing craft was a fiery wreck. A dozen of our men were either dead or wounded, some seriously. One of the pilots was dead and the other was missing a hand. Those of us who were on our feet were already moving. We were in a sort of valley about two kilometers from our planned insertion point. To our west was Bourbon Flats, beyond the foothills, and to our north was the towering hulk of Carentan Massif. Three kilometers high, twelve kilometers deep, and almost a hundred and thirty kilometers long, it utterly dominated the geography of Tyco 2's one good continent. Some freestyle climber had named it after his hometown in France. Come to think of it, Tyco 2 seemed to attract a lot of French colonists. I'd hiked that mountain plenty of times, even taken a couple local girls there, but now it was anything but its normal beautiful self. Even from here we could see the shells from our artillery and from gunboats in the atmosphere blasting away at the black rock and the red and green streams of Imperial fire. TIE fighters danced through the sky, chased by our fighters, and explosions peppered the red clouds. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanAfter a few stumbling steps I managed to get my bearings. Things were still hazy when Captain Marshall came over to me. There was a bandage on his arm and I could see a stream of blood under his helmet. Marshall was an old-school officer that cut his teeth in the Second Bug War and had served under Colonel Rico in Rico's Roughnecks. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"You good to go, Lieutenant Allen?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Yes, sir, captain. What's our situation?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"We lost half our landing craft on the way in. I've got your platoon here, Orwell's a click and a half to our north at the rally point. They think one of our craft went down a click west of us, but we can't confirm, the other was confirmed destroyed and it took 2supnd/sup Platoon with it. Baker has comms with the 42supnd/sup and they're getting chewed up by Imp guns. We gotta move right the fuck now! I need you to take your men and lead us off toward 1supst/sup Platoon and the X, then we'll consolidate and move forward. Get your ass going, LT." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Copy that, sir. My guys, on me!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanMy men fell in behind me as I led off, following along in a staggered column. Connor was on point, Sashimi behind him, then me. Marshall was toward the rear of the column with Baker and Henderson. We moved as fast as we could with the rough terrain. I could hear the battel raging just a few clicks away and when I looked up I could fire in the sky from the battle raging over the planet. I looked down at my wrist computer to make sure we were on course, occasionally looking at the larger screen to see how the fight was going. Our forces were advancing into the foothills of the Massif btu were being stopped near the base of the mountain. The 42supnd/sup and the 8supth/sup had been stopped in their tracks, the 54supth/sup was advancing slowly but steadily, and the 208supth/sup was working its way across the Flats. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWe moved fast and hard, making the distance to the X faster than we expected. Within twenty minutes or so we were coming up from the valleys and were challenged by a sentry. We gave the countersign and made our way into their perimeter, instantly greeted with smiles and "hell yeahs". I set men on the perimeter and went with Marshall to Lt. Torres' position. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"We're sitting on half strength here," Capt. Marshall said once we were huddled up, "we're here on the map, we have to get here to the east side of the Massif. There's a peak there that should give us some good vantage points. Patton says we have reinforcements inbound, but they'll never make it if we don't take out those ack-ack guns." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Those hills are lousy with Imps, sir," Torres said, "we saw it on the screens before the landing craft dropped us off. I'd say company strength or more. We haven't seen anything yet, but they have to know that we're here." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"That's why we're gonna get up and moving right the fuck now. Assemble your men and get them moving. We're gonna hit this ridge and follow it to the east face of the-"/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Contact!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanRed bolts came sailing out of nowhere, blasting bits of rock from the basalt spur we'd been huddling behind. Instantly rifles were barking and men were shouting, calling out targets and movements. Marshall and Torres were already moving, as was I. I looked up at the ridgeline that rose up about two hundred meters from our position, a rocky spine of bare stone and hard-packed earth. I could see black-clad figures darting from one boulder to another, some of them shooting to cover the others. Going to one knee behind a large boulder, I looked through the optic on my rifle and found one of them in my reticle, squeezed the trigger and felt the rifle buck in my hands, then saw his chest blossom with crimson as he stopped short and fell to one knee. I fired twice more, one bullet going through his chest and the other splitting his helmet before he went down. I shifted targets to another man and took a fast, half-aimed shot that spun him around so that he went down and disappeared behind the rocks. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanA blaster bolt hit the rock I was crouched behind and I whirled around and fired on instinct, seeing a man jerk his head back, drop his blaster, and clutch at his throat as he sank to the ground. More bolts were coming at me and I got to my feet and started running. A man from 1supst/sup Platoon stuck his head up from cover to shoot and I saw a bolt hit him square in the chest and he went down in a shower of sparks. I went to the ground and slid over to him like I was sliding into third base back in high school, coming up beside him and going to one knee behind the cover of a chunk of basalt. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanHe was hurt bad. That bolt ripped right through his armor like it was tissue paper and left a wound in his chest that I'd only ever seen in training footage from the Bug Wars. It looked as if someone had shoved a flagpole through the poor bastard's ribs. The edges of the wound were black and cauterized, but the hole in his chest was bleeding bad and squirting blood with every heartbeat. I rolled him over and dug for his medkit in the small of his back, ripping it off of the hook and loop pouch and grabbing for a bandage and the wound sealant. I rolled him over as I tore open the bandage with my teeth, but it was too late. He was gone. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe fire from the ridge was intensifying and I saw more men moving along the ridge as I peeked above the cover. They were moving in fast and they knew the terrain. If they could pin us down in this little valley, then they could make a flanking maneuver and come at us with superior numbers or call in air support on us. We'd been taken by surprise and they knew it. We had to move and right fucking now. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"LT!", Henderson yelled a few yards away from me, "we gotta move now or we're gonna get pinned down!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Way ahead of you, sergeant! On my mark, lay down some cover fire. Conserve your ammo, only take the shots you can make. First Squad, on me! Ready, steady, move!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanHenderson and his squad rose up and started pouring rounds into that ridge. First Squad got to their feet and came up on my heels as I led the way down into the shallow gully between our position and that ridge. Red bolts filled the air and the sound of blasters almost drowned out the roar of the guns. I saw men in those weird helmets darting from rock to rock, cover to cover as we ran, shooting as I went. A man with colored bars on his chest rose up and took aim at me, but a bullet perforated his helmet before I could get my rifle up. Thanks, Henderson. Another man came out of nowhere from behind a rock in front of me and I saw a blaster in his hands. He was just starting to lift it when I shot him twice in the chest and saw him fall. I didn't aim, but fired from the hip like the old-timers used to. It wasn't more than twenty yards, anyway. Any ten year old from back home could make that shot. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWe ran through the enemy fire across the hollow, then up the steep ridge to just below the crest. I shot a man standing up to fire and dove to the ground, fished a grenade from one of the pouches on the back of my belt, and pulled the pin. "Frag out!", I cried over the din of the battle, then lobbed the grenade over the hump of the ridge. Two others did the same and I saw the grenades sail over the rocks and out of sight. Men yelled somewhere on top of the ridge, then the air was filled with red dust and debris as the grenades exploded. I heard men screaming in pain and couldn't help but smile a little, as macabre as it sounds, and in the momentary lull I saw our chance. I lunged to my feet and made the top of the ridge in three long strides, and as I topped out on the ridge and looked down into another hollow I found myself looking at nearly two dozen Imperial Army soldiers. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThey were just as surprised to see me as I was to see them, but I was a hair faster than they were. My thumb flicked the selector to full auto and started shooting. A man went down in front of me and I shifted fire, dropping two more with a long burst that emptied my magazine. My training took over and my hands moved before I even had time to think, my finger hitting the mag release while my left hand grabbed a fresh mag from the pouches at the front of my armor and slid it into the gun. I felt and heard the magazine seat, my thumb hit the bolt release to chamber a round, and in less than a second I was shooting again. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanBy now the panic had worn off and they were shooting back. I felt superheated air scold my face as blaster bolts shrieked by within inches of my head. I didn't let myself think, I just kept moving and shooting. More rifles were barking behind me, so my men were topping the ridge as well. I shot into a man that looked like an officer and he fell, so I swept to my left and killed two more men with a sweeping burst that stitched across their chests. A bolt flew past me and singed my arm, so I dropped to the ground and rolled over to see a man that had run up behind me. I cut loose with a short burst and saw rounds hit him in the neck and head, taking off the top of his helmet in a spray of blood. I rolled to my feet and a man jumped up from behind me, coming down on top of me and grabbing for my rifle. We both hit the ground and we fought over my gun for a few seconds before someone shot him through the chest and he hit the ground beside me, dead. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanspan style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanI rolled to my feet and lifted my rifle, searching for a target. There weren't any nearby. Most of the Imps had withdrawn down the ridge and were now in full retreat. I knew there were more in the gullies that were moving to outflank our men, so I started running. When I came to the east side of the ridge I saw a platoon-sized element in a scattered line moving across the gully to attack our position. I flicked the rifle's selector back to semi-auto and, using the scope, found and shot three officers before they realized what was going on. Two were clean kills, one was a possible who went down and tumbled into the gully. I shot into four or five more men who turned to fire at me, then dropped to my belly and rolled over three times. I put a hand to the grenade launcher and flicked off the safety, and after a deep breath I jumped to one knee and fired into the gully. I saw the grenade blow and several men go down, pumped another grenade into the launcher and fired again, then again. Debris, men, and bits of men went flying through the dust and the flame and by the time I'd brought the scope back to my eye the Imps were in full retreat. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWe all knew we didn't have time to waste, so after a word to the captain and a few barked orders to the men we had both platoons moving. We'd taken some losses, but there weas nothing we could do for them now. The wounded that could walk were taken with us, the rest were left at the landing zone with a very light guard. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWithin another twenty minutes we were at the foothills of the Massif and almost within sight of Imperial positions. Comms were alive with requests for fire and air support, reports of heavy casualties and heavy enemy contact, and that the advance had been stalled on nearly every front. Baker patched me into chatter from the Fleet and it wasn't going well for them either. Imperial reinforcements had dropped in from lightspeed and were making things hot for our flyboys, but they were holding their own. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWe didn't have any more serious contact, but form the time we got to the foothills we began taking sporadic fire from the Massif and from strafing TIE fighters. We spread out and moved as fast as we could, but we were all alert for more ground troops. We were almost in the belly of the beast now and they had to know we were around. Finally we crested the peak of a razor-backed ridge that gave us an almost perfect view of the southern slopes of Carentan Massif. What we saw was a bloodbath. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanBlown out hulks of armored vehicles were scattered across the Flats, fires and artillery craters dotted the mountainside that I had hiked many a time, and even from here I could see hundreds of bodies scattered across the plain and on the slopes. Through my scope and the high-powered binoculars that Marshall passed between me and Torres, I could see well made trench lines and fortified fire positions cutting across the slopes at various levels. We could see the black uniforms of the Imperial Army, clusters of white armor that could only be those feared Stormtroopers that we had heard so much about in the intelligence reports from the Rebel Alliance, and at regular intervals I could see heavy blasters sending streams of fire into our advancing troops. More importantly, we could see the emplacements where their big guns were dug in and sending whistling death into the skies and toward our men. Those guns had been pounding us hard for the past month and had killed more than a few of my good friends. Nothing would make me happier than to see those guns go up in flames. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I have eyes on Imp guns, captain," I said to Marshall, "two big guns at twelve o'clock high, two at my ten o'clock, and looks like three more on the caprock at my nine-thirty. Dug in deep in the rock, recommend heavy ordinance. Tagging coordinates now." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI tapped the buttons on the binocs to lase the target locations, recording them on the unit net. Marshall called out that he had the positions and called over Baker, then started relaying the information to Fort Patton. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Bowie White, Bowie White, this is Charlie One Actual," he said through the handheld, "have eyes on enemy assets, requesting fire mission at . . ." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWhile he called out the coordinates for the guns, something caught my eye to the northeast of our position. I turned to look through my scope and saw them clearly; three white Imperial shuttles, flying low to stay in the deep valleys, in a standard V formation. They were escorted by two TIE fighters, and they were coming right at us. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Captain! Three bogies inbound, appear to be troop transports." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span". . . fire for effect, I say again, fire for effect. Charlie One Actual out. I see them, lieutenant. You and Torres set up a defensive line and prepare to receive contact. We're in it for the long haul, boys." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Copy that, sir! 2supnd/sup Platoon, on me!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanMoving quickly and staying as low as we could, we set up a perimeter. The ridge on which we sat was about a kilometer long and rose sharply and steeply about a hundred or so meters from the Bourbon Flats and maybe half that from the hills to our west, hooking around and forming a rough J with the hook facing to the northeast and falling away into a ravine. The slope facing the Massif was very steep, falling off in sheer bluffs in many places and too steep for a man to run up for most of its length. Marshall's position was at the very crest of the ridgeline and was protected by a jumble of boulders and spurs of bare rock, while the jagged edges of the black rock spine of the ridgeline offered natural cover all along its crest. It fell away going down into the hook of the J toward the ravine, which was itself a deep notch that fell away in sheer cliffs on both sides. At first glance it appeared to be an ancient lava flow of some kind that had been cut sometime in the planet's volcanic past. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanPonting and shouting orders, I put my men into the best defensive positions I could find. Our position was a good one and we had good natural cover, but we didn't have the numbers to hold out for long against a serous force. Those three shuttles could hold a lot of men, and with only small arms at our disposal there was nothing we could do to take them down before they landed. I pulled grenades from my belt and thumbed them into the launcher's tube, put a fresh mag in my rifle and stuck the partial mag in my last pouch, then found a good firing position and got down behind the black rock. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThose three shuttles dropped low behind the hills, then came up again and started to bank left to face toward the Massif. Our ridge dropped down into a wide little valley that dropped off into the ravine to our right, probably created by the same lava flows, and as they came in closer they dipped down low to descend into it. The head of that little valley was just big enough to accommodate at least two of those shuttles. They split off just as the thought went through my head, as if they had read my mind, and while two of the shuttles folded their wings to land in the valley the third dipped down into another deep hollow that was out of sight. The fighters that had been escorting them altered course and howled over our heads and into the distance, but I didn't look up to watch them leave. I watched through my scope as the two shuttles touched down and started lowering their bay doors. I took in a breath, let it out slowly, then took in another and exhaled slowly, my finger taking up slack on the trigger. The range was just over three hundred and fifty meters./span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanSomething sounded strange in the distance, a sound that was both odd and yet somehow familiar at the same time. I saw Stormtroopers marching in neat ranks down the ramps of the shuttles, looking every inch the professional soldiers that they were. They came down the ramps at a slow march, not at all like men that knew they were in our sights. Did they even know we were here? Was this an attack to wipe us out, or a staging point for a counter-attack on our troops? The fighting was getting closer to the Massif and the 54supth/sup was well within sight of us at this point. That strange sound grew louder and louder, coming in like a rush of howling thunder. Suddenly I realized what it was and ducked my head into the red dirt and screamed over the now deafening noise at anyone that could hear me. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Ordinance inbound! Cover!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe shells came thundering in and hit the massif with a deafening roar that shook the earth and sent columns of smoke, flame, and dust into the air. A rushing wind blew over us as the ground shook under our bellies, bringing with it a red wave of dust and blown sand and debris. For a few seconds it was like one of those bad summer sandstorms that we had all grown accustomed to had blown in and covered the whole region. I buried my face in the dirt and felt the hot air rush over me, covered my ears to drown out the roar, and I didn't dare look up until the blown sand and earth had settled. When I did look up I saw six pillars of black smoke rising from the slopes of Carentan Massif where those heavy guns had been dug in, each one surrounded by a burning ring of charred earth or destroyed stone. A large house could easily fit into the craters that the shells had left. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Good effect on target, Bowie White," Captain Marshall yelled into the handheld, "shift fire down two hundred, right one-fifty!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI put my rifle to my shoulder and took a sight on the Stormtroopers. Several of them were down, knocked over by the unexpected shockwave, and one of the shuttles had been knocked backward a few meters. They were coming up with weapons ready and as one of them appeared to look up at me over his blaster, I shot him. The bullet blew away the black lens of his left eye and tore through the back of his helmet, spraying blood all over the white armor of the trooper behind him. Half a second after it fired, every rifle on the ridge seemed to speak at once. The whole first rank of Stormtroopers went down as their comrades fired at our line, but we had the high ground and we had them in perfect enfilade. One of the shuttles lifted off and rose straight up into the sky, while the other struggled to right itself after being knocked off balance by the shockwave. One of our grenadiers put an HE round in its engine and it came down in a fiery spiral, bounced off the walls of the ravine, and exploded somewhere at the bottom. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI fired until my gun went dry, so I dropped the mag and reloaded. As I hit the bolt release I could see more troopers coming over that second ridge across the valley from us. I took aim at the men on that second ridge and found a man in my scope, adjusted my aim with the bullet drop compensator lines in the reticle, then squeezed off a shot. I saw my man jerk and fall, then shifted and fired at another man who dove behind a chunk of black rock and out of sight. Bolts began hitting the rock in front of me, so I went down and crawled further behind the cover of the stone. A man to my left cried out and went tumbling down the hill, stopping a few meters down from me and not moving. More shells came in and hit the massif, another ear-splitting round of explosions boomed, and another red wave blew up off of the Flats and blinded the battlefield as the earth shook. For a few seconds all that we could see were the hundreds of red bolts streaking through the dust. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Coming up to a knee I fired blindly at the source of the bolts, not knowing if I hit anything but pretty sure that I was at least putting some heads down. Using the dust for cover, I ran to where Henderson was dug in behind a rock outcropping. He was dug in like an Alabama tick and, judging by the spent casings on the ground, he had been doing some shooting. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Aim for where the bolts are coming from! That goes for all of you! Aim for the origin of that blaster fire! Pick your targets and make sure those rounds count!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Another man went down from a bolt to the shoulder and I called for a medic. Corporal Katanga came running as I ripped open the man's medkit and put a bandage and sealant on his wound, and I left him in Katanga's capable hands. The winds passed and the dust began to settle again so that we could see the slopes of Carentan again, and I liked what I was seeing. All but one of the guns had been taken out. The last of them had gone silent and when I gave its position a quick look through my optic I saw that it had either been moved or pulled back farther into the mountain. I couldn't see the troops out on Bourbon Flats, but I knew that they were moving. With those guns silenced, they were free and clear to move on the Massif in full force. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"A bolt zipped by my head and I felt the heat off of it, bringing me back to the moment. I hit the dirt and crawled on my belly to the edge of the rocky spine, lifting my head just over the rocks to find a target. The Imps were dug in on that other ridge, 400-500 meters away, and a few dozen of them were in cover down below us at the base of the sheer bluffs that fell away at the base of our position. The only way to get a shot at them was to stand up and lean over the rim, which would mean getting instantly shot by those boys across the valley. I lifted my rifle and was about to take a shot when I looked to my right and saw the remains of a company of troopers that had disembarked from those shuttles moving to our northeast./span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Henderson," I said over my commlink, "I have eyes on tangos moving to our right flank. Take a squad and head 'em off."/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"emspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Copy that, we're Oscar Mike. We may need some support." /span/em/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Acknowledged. I'm working on it." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I fired two quick grenades at the Stormtroopers across the valley, lobbing them in behind their cover as best I could, and thumbed in two fresh shells as I ran to Marshall's position at the peak of the ridge. He was down on his belly, still calling in coordinates, with Baker by his side. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sir, we have a company-sized element moving on our right flank. We need some air support if we're gonna hold out much longer." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Already on it, lieutenant. Bowie White, this is Charlie One Actual requesting immediate close air support if available. Have multiple enemy troops moving to flank my position, cannot hold. Be advised, we are danger close for heavy ordinance. Copy that. Birds are inbound, but it's gonna be tight!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Copy that," I tapped my commlink, "all teams, be advised that we have birds inbound." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I went back to the line and started shooting at every target I could find. Men were darting from one piece of cover to another, moving and shooting, some falling while others ran or dove for cover. Someone fired from beneath me and hit the edge of the overhang I was kneeling behind, showering me with fragments, and pulled a grenade from my belt pouch and tossed it down the slope. I emptied my magazine and reloaded, then fired that one empty as well. Men went down here and there, dead and wounded, but I didn't leave my spot or even look their way. Another shuttle came down from the massif and landed behind a line of hills. Without a doubt it was landing more troopers. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Fighters inbound!", Baker cried out. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The four jets came in low and loud. They cut loose with a strafing fire of 20mm machine gun fire, then released a payload of smart bombs that flew in all on their own and hit the troopers behind the ridgeline. The shockwave knocked me off my feet and I tumbled head over heels in the red dirt until I finally stopped myself a few meters down the slope. Luckily, I had been smart enough to sling my rifle this time and it came down the hill with me. My ears were ringing again and everything was a little hazy for a few seconds before I could get back to the line. I took aim at where the Stormtroopers had been, but there was no one there. Looking toward our right flank, I saw the falling the dust cloud left by the bombs and smiled to myself. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""That's confirmed, good effect on target," Captain Marshall said over the comms, "the flyboys say that those pasty bastards are in full retreat. Our M117s are chewing up the Imp Navy as we speak and we have confirmed withdrawals on the backside of Carentan." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Cautiously, I dared to let myself stand up. My rifle was still up and I was ready to shoot anything that moved, but nothing did. The men were cheering as the word was passed that the Imps were in retreat. It was the first good news we'd had in a long time. I looked out over Bourbon Flats and saw our forces advancing up the massif, saw the Imperial trench lines taking fire as their numbers thinned out, and in the skies above us we saw squadrons of friendly fighters zooming by overhead. Intel suggested that there was still a massive tunnel system inside Carentan Massif, so there was still the problem of smoking them out, but for now it was nice to just revel in the victory before us. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""So captain," I said after a pull on my canteen, "when do you think we're going to Coruscant?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""I don't know, LT, but I know we're gonna fuckin' burn it down when we get there." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Lt. Com. Tonya "Big Momma" Heller – 83suprd/sup Space Combat Wing /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"0730 hours, local time/span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"USS emDonald Trump /em/span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"stronguspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Tyco 2 – High Orbit span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/span/u/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Now hear this, now hear this! We are now at general quarters! I say again, we are now at general quarters, all hands to battle stations! All hands to battle stations!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The alarms sounded and I grabbed my helmet, then was running for the main hangar. We had all been sitting on pins and needles since we got the word that the Fleet was finally moving out for the Tyco System and all of us were itching to get into some action. Two weeks at Ticonderoga assembling the fleet, another week in the Orion Cluster gathering troop transports, all the while hearing over the Net that the guys at Fort Patton were getting hammered day in and day out by those Imperial bastards had given us all a good hate for the enemy. Our whole squadron was ready to hit the stars and kick some ass, me more so than others. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanAll my life I had heard the stories about the Bug Wars from people like my dad, my uncle, and all of my father's friends. My dad had fought in the first campaigns of the Second Bug War and met my mom at Ticonderoga in between missions. Mom was a pilot in the 83suprd/sup Space Combat Wing, the "Angels of Death", and the day that I was admitted to the same unit was the proudest day of my or my mom's life. I loved seeing the look in her and Dad's eyes when they came to my graduation from the Fleet Academy, when they saw me take my spot as wing commander in the 83suprd/sup, and when they told me that they were retiring to Legion's Rest on Tyco 2. Dad had always dreamed about going to some wild planet and being one of the first to colonize it, to tame it, to make it civilized. I knew one thing, and that was that nothing in this wide, bloody universe would have ever torn them apart. I knew they went down fighting and I knew, without a doubt, that they went together. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Let's kick the tires and light the fires, Big Momma!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Keep it tight, Gabby. This is no time for bullshit. You get me?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Loud and clear, Big Momma. You got your lucky charm?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Never leave home without it."/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI reached under my flight suit and lifted the little gold cross that Mom had given me at my graduation. She had always been the religious type and she had worn it on every one of her missions back in the day. She said that it had always brought her luck and that it would keep me safe while I was in the cockpit. I had never really been religious, but pilots have always been an extremely superstitious lot. I held it up and kissed it, instantly thinking back to the last time I saw Mom and Dad. I was almost moved to tears and mad enough to punch the bulkhead at the same time. Somewhere down there on the surface of Tyco 2 were the same troops that had killed my parents. I had heard the briefings about the planned assault on Carentan Massif after we landed the bulk of our ground troops near Fort Patton. Never once in my life had I ever regretted signing up for fighter duty, and I still didn't, but just for today I wished that someone would give me a Morita and let me jump in with the Mobile Infantry. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanMelissa "Gabby" Hendrix was my wingman ("wing-girl", as it were) and had been for the past two years. We had never flown an actual combat mission together, but she was one of the most gifted pilots that I had ever seen. She was the top of her class at the Academy and had impressed the brass so much that they had fast-tracked her from fresh out of the Academy straight into the field. She'd been attached to the 83suprd/sup Wing at the insistence of Captain Prentiss, captain of the USS emDonald Trump/em, and although I had had my reservations about her at first I had quickly seen her talents and placed her on my wing. She got her callsign because she was always talking and laughing. She was pretty, blonde, tall and slim and always with that contagious grin that seemed to never leave her face. Even now, as we were about to go into battle, she was all smiles and jokes. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWe ran through the hangar doors and split up, all of us going to our fighters. Gabby's fighter was in the launch tube beside mine, our crews putting the finishing touches on them as we ran up. The crew chief yelled to his guys and gave us both the thumbs-up to clear us. I slid on my helmet and buckled the chin strap, slid down the visor, kissed my fingers and touched the painted name and seven hornets on the side of the fuselage. It was supposed to be good luck. The seven hornets were for the seven kills I had on Arachnid space fighters from the last war, which I had just caught the tail end of, and they were painted just below my name: Tonya "Big Momma" Heller. I had never really liked the name Big Momma, but I had picked it up after taking command of the 83suprd/sup Wing. The girls like to say that it was because I acted like a "den mother" to them or that I reminded them of their moms. Personally, I think it's just because I was, at 35, the oldest pilot in the squadron. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe beast in which I sat was the pride of the Federation Fleet. She was a F-84 Phoenix starfighter, the latest and greatest air and space asset that the Federation had to offer. Mom always bragged about her F-76 Thundercat fighter, but this baby would have made her jealous. The Phoenix was designed to outfly, outmaneuver, and outgun anything that the Bugs could put in the skies, which by extension meant that it could outdo just about anything that anyone else could put out. She sported two 12.7mm gauss gatling guns in the nose, a standard air-to-air missile at the tip of each wing, and she could carry six of anything that anyone wanted to mount to the three moorings on each wing. The wings formed a shallow V-shape when viewed from the top and a more shallow upside down V from the front. She could make lightspeed without even trying and had the maneuverability to match the speed. Today I was rocking eight air-to-air missiles and all the ammunition that my baby could carry./span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanDropping into the seat, I clicked on my flight harness, tapped the interface panel to pair the fighter's flight systems to my helmet, grabbed the stick and tapped the controls to bring up the targeting system. A crosshair appeared in heads-up display (HUD) and I glanced all around the cockpit and the launch tube to make sure it was functioning perfectly. My HUD registered all eight missiles, engine and armor status, system readouts, comms channels, and a small display in the lower left corner that displayed all twelve of the ladies in my squadron. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Command, this is Angel One," I said through my comms, "all fighters ready for launch." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Copy that, Angel One. All wings prepare for launch in five, four, ready, steady, launch!"/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanAs the countdown was called out, I saw the launch tube in front of me light up, the streaking lights pointing toward the hatch as it opened, and in my HUD I saw red numbers counting down. I felt my pulse racing as the numbers ticked away, my fingers tapping nervously as my left hand gripped the throttle. Finally the command came to launch and the red light above the hatch suddenly turned green. Instantly I rammed the throttle down and felt my engines roar to life. The thrust of the afterburners threw me into the seat, the hundred yards or so of the launch tube flew by in less than a second, and then I was out in the Big Black. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanLooking around me, I saw the emDonald Trump /emfall away behind me and the rest of the Angels leave their tubes. No one had to tell us what to do. We had all trained long and hard for a day like this. Almost instinctively I maneuvered into position with the others, taking my spot at the head of the formation. The 83suprd/sup was one of three fighter wings aboard the emDonald Trump/em, all of which were now launched and forming up. The emTrump /emwas one of four carriers in the fleet above Tyco 2, along with five battleships, twelve destroyers, six frigates, and thirty troop transports that were currently on the far side of the planet. The carriers were in the rearmost of three lines of battle, with the battleships forming the center line and the frigates and destroyers forming the main line of battle. Battleships weren't built for frontline combat. They were big, slow, bulky, and packed with enough big guns to put a 20supth/sup century land army to shame. In the Bug Wars they would typically hang back from the action and batter Bug ships into dust from the protection of the smaller warships. Frigates were mid-sized cruisers, bristling with armament and fast enough to be formidable to most ships. The destroyers were the real workhorse. Too small to hold any fighters or big guns, they had the speed and the weaponry to outmaneuver larger ships but still do major damage against either capital ships or smaller ships or fighters. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe Angels fell into a standard battle formation, me in the lead and Gabby on my starboard wing, and as we passed between the battleships I looked ahead saw the enemy fleet. I'd never seen anything like it and never want to again. I counted six of those infamous Star Destroyers that we'd heard so much about in the mission briefings and the intelligence reports coming from our advisors embedded with the Rebel Alliance. The white, pizza-slice silhouettes stood out ominously against the black space behind them, drawn up in a rough skirmish line in a zig-zag formation. There were ten or twelve light cruisers interspersed between Destroyers, most of them looking like just a smaller version of the big carriers. Military Intelligence had given us briefings on the various classes of Imperial warships, but I couldn't remember them offhand. I hit the interface to bring up the targeting sensors, and as the screen in my HUD changed I could see hundreds of tiny dots come up on the scanner; TIE fighters, arrayed in at least a dozen separate formations. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"All callsigns, this is Angel One. I have confirmed bogeys at my twelve." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Copy that, Big Momma," Gabby replied, "look at the size of those things!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Cut the chatter, Gabby. Keep it tight and watch that crossfire, ladies. This is what we trained for. We cut through those TIEs and hit the Star Destroyers hard and fast. Go for the shield generators first so the battleships can take 'em down. You get me?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"We get you, Big Momma!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Let's get it done, girls. Last one to kill a bad guy buys the beer at Patton." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"You're on, Big Momma," Gabby quipped back, "here they come!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThey came like a black and grey wave, first in tight formations and then splitting off into pairs and threes with a fluidity that I had never seen even in elite fighter squadrons. I heard high-pitched whine of the Imperial blasters and saw the green bolts coming at me, immediately hitting the stick and banking to starboard. A TIE came up in front of me and my targeting sensors picked him up. I got a soft lock on him and squeezed the trigger, heard my guns roar to life, and saw the almost solid stream of tracers coming out of the nose. He banked hard to port and went into a roll, but I went after him. He was good, damn good, and even with the speed and maneuverability of my Phoenix I could barely keep up with him. I squeezed the trigger again and again, firing short and steady bursts every time he came into my sights. I almost had him again and again, but he kept darting out of my lock over and over so fast that I could hardly believe it. He went into a roll again and started twisting this way and that, but I stayed on him and held my targeting sensor on him. Finally I got a solid lock and squeezed off a burst, saw the .50-caliber rounds rip through his fighter, and after going into a fiery dive for a few seconds he exploded into a fireball. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Woo! Splash one bogey!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI whipped around and started back toward the line of Star Destroyers, seeing one of our fighters maneuvering around with a TIE on her tail. I called for Gabby to come up on my wing and we went in after the TIE, both of us getting a lock at about the same time and blowing away the port-side panel of the fighter and sending it into a flaming spiral. Another TIE showed up on my rear scanner a split second before the green bolts started streaking over my cockpit. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Gabby, I got a bandit on my six!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Copy that, Big Momma, I'm on him." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI banked back and forth, dodging the bolts and trying to stay ahead of the Imp. He came close enough to raise my neck hairs more than once, one time barely missing the tip of my starboard wing. The Phoenix had some impressive armor, but I didn't know if it could handle those blaster bolts. I saw Gabby's tracers zipping by me over and over again, one burst after another, until finally I saw the round cockpit of the TIE shatter and burst into flames as rounds ripped through the tiny craft. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanEverywhere I looked, all I saw was carnage. Hundreds of fighters were swarming in every direction, destroyers and battleships were sending rounds at the Imperial ships while the Star Destroyers were cutting loose with thousands of huge green artillery bolts that smashed into the armor and shields of our ships. Balls of fire and debris popped and disappeared all over the place, each one denoting either one of our pilots or one of theirs going to their grave. I saw little groups of two or three TIE fighters darting around like flies as they went after our fighters, pairs of our own craft ripping through one or two Imperials at a time. They were everywhere, swarming our people before they knew what was happening, and the Imperial fleet was closing in to use their big guns to the best effect. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI hit the throttle and, with Gabby on my wing, ripping through the first line of Imperial cruisers. Six Angels were on my port side and going in hard with us. We banked around the tail of a light cruiser and started toward the nearest Star Destroyer from its port side stern. I saw the tower and the two bulbous shield generators that we had been briefed on. All our intel said that those were the best defense for those big boats and that once they were gone, the armor wouldn't be able to do much against a direct hit. I could see the impacts from those heavy shells that our boys were throwing at them, huge fireballs all over the hull outlined with little blue rings where the shields were stopping them cold. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWe rounded the little cruiser and came at the Destroyer with guns blazing, our rounds streaking the hull and taking out a couple of the defense batteries that were spitting bolts at us. The fire was coming in hard, filling the sky with green. I banked back and forth to avoid fire, but to my starboard I saw an Angel take a hit in the cockpit and explode. Another lost her port wing and went into a spiraling dive toward the hull of the Star Destroyer. I tried to stay focused and ignore the screaming that I heard over the commlink from the doomed pilot. I switched my targeting scanner to my missiles and moved the crosshairs onto the shield generator. Without waiting for a lock, I called out the launch and hit the launch button and saw the missile fly off at the head of a trail of blue gas toward the bulb, joining four others fired by Gabby, Lefty, and Viper. I yanked up hard on the stick and hit the throttle, zooming over the ship barely in time to escape the blast as our missiles took out the shield bulb. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI started to bank us around for another pass when a squadron of TIEs came out of nowhere and opened fire at us, taking out another Angel and barley missing Gabby. I broke from the squadron and went after the TIEs, guns hot. I got in behind them and cut loose with a quick burst, leading my target and trying to anticipate his evasion. I guessed right and blew off his starboard panel. The other two split up and I stayed after the one that had been in the center of the formation. He tried to head for the damaged Star Destroyer, but I cut him off. He tried to bank away and break off, but I stayed on him. He even tried to hit brakes and let me overshoot him, but I knew that trick too well and broke with him. He tried to speed up again, but he didn't have the juice to get up to speed as fast as I could and I cut him in half with another blast from my cannons. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Big Momma!", I heard Gabby scream over the comms, "I've got a bogey on my six! I need an assist." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI had completely forgotten that I had lost Gabby when I went after the TIEs. She had stayed with the rest of the Angels after we hit the Destroyer and I'd gone in too hard and too fast for her to stay on my wing. I up and saw her Phoenix through my upper canopy, a TIE hot on her tail. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I see you, Gabby. I'm comin' at ya!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI hit the throttle and pulled up hard, found her again and went after her as fast as I could. I flew through a hail of blaster bolts and tracer fire. I found the fighter on her tail in my HUD and tried to get a lock, but he was maneuvering around too fast for me to get a fix on him. I got upspan style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanbehind him and tried to get a bead on him, but every time it thought I had him I saw Gabby's Phoenix through the reticle and I couldn't fire. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I can't shake him! He's on me like white on rice, Big Momma!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I've almost got him, Gabby, hang tight!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI flipped the weapons switch to missiles and the crosshairs tracked the TIE, almost locking, but not quite. He was shooting and barely missing Gabby's fighter. She was a good pilot, very good, but he was staying right with her. Finally I got a lock and hit the launch button, saw the missile fly, and just before impact I saw a green bolt hit Gabby's starboard engine. The TIE was obliterated by the blast, vanishing in a ball of fire and debris, but I was looking at Gabby. Her engine was gone, her Phoenix was ablaze, and she was losing altitude./span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Gabby? Gabby, are you still with me, girl?!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I'm hit bad, Big Momma. I've lost my starboard engine and targeting systems are fried. I think I can make it back to the emTrump /emif you guide me in." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Let's do it, then. I'll lead off, you stay right on my ass." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Right behind you, Momma." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI flew like I'd never flown before. Gabby was trailing behind me, barely keeping in the stars, but she was still there. TIEs were everywhere, running from or chasing our own fighters, and for the first time I had time to notice just how the rest of the battle was going. The Star Destroyer we had hit was in flames, heavily damaged and falling into the upper atmosphere, but it was one of the only Imperial ships that was going down. I saw two of our battleships that were heavily damaged, five destroyers that were either in pieces or partially disabled, and one of our carriers was in serious trouble. The battle lines were almost non-existent now, with Federation and Imperial ships battering away at each other like ships of the line in some ancient naval battle. Our ships were tough, but the Imps had the advantage of their shields as well as their armor. I saw one of our battleships (the emChesty Puller/em, I think) let loose a salvo into a Star Destroyer at her port bow, blowing away chunks of the hull and one of its engines, but the ship was still going and still firing. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI whipped around one of the damaged destroyers, evaded fire from a pair of TIE fighters, put a few rounds at another, and behind me Gabby was keeping up. I spotted the emDonald Trump /emup ahead of us, her defense batteries blazing away at every fighter that came at her, but she was hurt. Her bow was damaged and one of her starboard nacelles was gone. Of her four landing strips, one was blown to hell and gone. She was still in the air, though, and she was still fighting. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Command, this Angel One. I have a wounded eagle on approach for hot landing, how copy?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Copy that, Angel One. Strip Three is down and Strip One is taking fire. We have an approach vector for Strip Two, stand by for confirmation." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Angel One copies, command. Be advised, Angel Six is hit hard and losing power." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Understood, Angel One. Hold fast." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"You get that, Gabby?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I copy all. They better make it quick. I'm losing juice and my last engine is almost done." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWe missed the first run and had to make another pass. We left the emDonald Trump /embehind us and made a wide pass around her stern to line up with Strip Four. We were coming around for an entry run when my proximity alarm suddenly started sounding. Someone had a lock on me. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I've got a bogey painting me! You got eyes on him, Gabby?!"/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I got him! On your ten o'clock high!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I see them!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI looked up and saw them coming in, two TIEs and another fighter, one that I couldn't identify at first. No sooner had I picked them up that all three of them started firing, the bolts singeing my hull before I could evade them. The emDonald Trump/em's defense batteries came to life and tracers streaked past us, arcing across the stars in zig-zag lines that scattered the trio of fighters. They split up and rolled in three different directions, all three firing as they went. The middle craft hit the gas and jetted ahead of the others, rolling and banking at breakneck speed barely a hair ahead of the tracers. I'd never seen a craft move like that. What the hell is that thing?/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Gabby, this is Big Momma, I'm breaking off. Keep heading into the emTrump/em and I'll try to keep 'em off you." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I can still fight, Big Momma." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Hell no, girl, you get your ass back to the emTrump /emand refit. Moving to contact!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanA volley of green bolts whipped past me as I went into a port spin, hit the brakes, and did a 180 to come about and go at the TIEs. I found one of them in my scope throttled in close enough for a shot, squeezed off a burst, and took off a piece of his panel. He started to tumble but righted himself, slowing him down enough for me to hit him with another burst that took out his cockpit and blew him to bits. I hit the throttle hard and flipped around again, barely missing the second TIE as I tried to hit me with another volley. He barrel-rolled and whipped his fighter around to come up on my tail. I'd seen enough of these guys' tactics to guess at how he would come at me. I rocked side to side, being as random as I could be. I barrel-rolled but he stayed with me. I pulled up and did a wide somersault, but he stayed on my six. I felt my fighter jar hard and saw a blast on my bow where one of his bolts hit thick armor on my nose. The stars were spinning all around me, but I looked ahead of me and saw the guns of the emTrump /emblazing. That TIE behind me wasn't giving up and I doubted that he even noticed them. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Command, this is Angle One. I'm coming in hot with a bogey on my six. Can I get an assist?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Solid copy, Angel One. Gun crews are standing by for contact." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Coming at you, Command." span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI banked to starboard skimmed the Red Zone along the hull of the emTrump/em, practically scratching the paint, and in my rear sensors I saw the TIE take several hits from the 20mm defense guns and fly into flaming pieces. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Target identified as killed, Angel One." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Good copy, Command. Thanks for the assist." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI spun the Phoenix around and saw Gabby coming in for her final approach. By now the flight control crew had her in the tractors and the computers were guiding her in on autopilot. The bay doors were opening and the landing strip was lit up. I smiled as I thought of the repair crews that were even now scrambling to meet her at the hatch and patch up her bird. They probably had her backup standing by for a replacement that would get her back into the fight. I was about to wheel around to head back into the fray when I caught a glimpse of a lone dot speeding in from the lee side of the emDonald Trump /emtowards Gabby. It was that same weird fighter that had been at the center of the trio, only this time I got a good look at it. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe hull and cockpit were the same as a regular TIE, but this was one was a hell of a lot faster, much more maneuverable, and it had wings instead of the square side panels that most of the others had. I'd seen a few bomber TIEs during the initial attack, but those were slow and weakly shielded and they didn't last long. The wings on this one were long, almost double the length of the cockpit, with four points that appeared to be tipped with a blaster cannon. The profile of the wings were that of a half-octagon on each side. That fighter came screaming in from nowhere almost straight down from Gabby's twelve-o'clock high aft. She either didn't see him coming or couldn't move because of the guidance systems. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Gabby, that bogey is back on your six!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I can't move, Big Momma, the emTrump/em's pulling me in." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I'm moving to ya, but I don't know if I can make it. Command, Angel One. Angel Six needs an assist. I have eyes on a bandit coming in hot." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Copy that, Angel One. Bandit is on our scopes but we can't get a fix. Bogey is coming in too hot for targeting systems to track."/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Angel Six is danger close, Command. She needs immediate assistance." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Working on it, Angel One. Attempting guidance override." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Gabby, hang on! We're coming for you!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"He's got me locked!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Hang on, Gabby!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI saw the guns roar to life and saw the tracers rip past the new fighter. He evaded them like they weren't even there and can screaming in with that ion engine wailing. His cannons whined and a stream of green fire went down in an almost solid beam toward Gabby's fighter, hit her engines and cockpit, and ripped it apart at the bolts. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Gabby, NOOOOO!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe flame and debris dissipated across the path of the emDonald Trump /emand left no doubt that Gabby was gone. That TIE did a complete 180 and zipped over me on my three o'clock like a bolt of lightning in a thunderstorm. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Command, this is Angel One. I'm going after at that bandit." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Negative, Angel One. Recommend you return to the emDonald Trump /emfor refit and resupply. Your presence is needed at the front. Friendly air assets are taking heavy losses." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"That's a negative, Command. This bastard's mine." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI hit the brakes and came about to face the fight and hit the throttle so hard that my engine readout blared at me that my engines were in the red. I glanced at the my munitions and didn't like what I saw. Cannon ammunition was down to less than half, my armor was damaged, and I had four of my eight missiles left. Fuel was still good at 75%. I looked ahead again and saw the burning hulks of two of our battleships, what was left of several destroyers and a frigate, and two Star Destroyers that were either destroyed or disabled. I could barely see several Imperial light cruisers that had been reduced either to debris fields or scuttled hulks. Fighters were flying wildly all over the place. I hit the scanners and found the one I was after, already considerably ahead of me and almost back to the battle line. I hit the throttle again, raising an alarm from my propulsion readout. At this point, I didn't care. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"You're mine, you son of a bitch." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanMy targeting scanners found him and I saw the reticle bouncing around in my HUD, trying to get a lock on him for either guns or missiles. Every time I thought I had him he bounced out of the reticle. I tried again and he rolled out of target again. I was pushing my engines to their limits and was barely keeping up with this guy. What the hell did they put in that thing? /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe TIE maneuvered through the debris field of one of our destroyers, weaving through the wreckage like a fly in a house. I was barely able to follow him. He made a B-line for the Imperial lines, making for the nearest Star Destroyer like his life depended on it. After all, it did. He'd seen me take out his buddy with the emTrump/em's guns and I had an idea that he was trying to do the same to me. The turbolasers on those Star Destroyers could apart my fighter like tissue paper with only a portion of their wattage and I had no intention of letting that happen. I tried to get a bead on him manually and tried over and over again to hit him with a burst of cannon fire, but he dodged every bullet. I was getting closer to him now that we were in around friendly and hostile ships. He was backing off for easier maneuver, but I wasn't letting up. He was still going for that Star Destroyer and I knew he was running for home. I couldn't catch him before he got there, but suddenly an idea popped into my head. It was a crazy idea, borderline suicidal, but it was all I could come up with. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI banked left and went in for a low approach on the Star Destroyer, coming up on its ventral section. Looking down the grey hull of the massive ship, I saw my target. The main hangar of the Destroyer shown like a lit box on the underside of the hull, guarded by four laser batteries. Flak fire was coming at me from the underside of the ship, but not nearly as much as up top. I flipped into an inverted flight path and hit two of the batteries with cannon fire, destroying them, then righted myself and hit one of the four defense batteries on the hangar. I flipped over to missiles and got an instant lock on the hangar mouth, then made the craziest move of my career. I hit the kill switch on my engines and let the Phoenix float forward on her own inertia. As I came close to the main hangar I spun the fighter around to my three, tapped the maneuvering thrusters to hold her steady, and as I passed below the hangar opening I hit the launcher. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Angel One, fox away!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThe missile screamed from my wingtip and went through the open hangar doors and I giggled as I saw it blew away the belly of the warship and fill the whole hangar with flaming death. A fireball erupted from the hangar, then from the underside of the Destroyer and blowing away large sections of the hull up and down the surface of the ship. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI spun completely around and flicked the engines back on, felt the thrust come to life, and in a few seconds I was back in it. I hit the gas again and got clear of the Destroyer just ahead of an explosion that tore it in half. The Phoenix shook violently as the huge rear engines of the ship blew, but as I cleared the blast I heard an alert from my rear sensors. I looked into the little window in my HUD and saw him coming in behind me. The sensors identified him as an Interceptor and I suddenly remembered the briefings we'd had on them. Those were specifically designed for space combat, given more powerful engines, better weapons, and made of lighter materials than standard TIEs to make it faster, deadlier, and more maneuverable than anything else in the skies (including my Phoenix). /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"That's right, fucker! Come and get me!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanHe came around the floating wreck of the Destroyer at unbelievable speed, closing on me before I could blink. I throttled up again and heard the alerts again, but didn't care. He started firing and I barrel rolled to port, then starboard, then rocked her back and forth when I thought he was about to fire. He hit my starboard engine and knocked it out, but I kept her steady. Another bolt hit my bow armor and blew away a piece of it. He was getting cocky. He thought he had me. Then my sensors lit up and I saw that he had a lock on me. His cannons started firing, green bolts were coming at me, and I made my move. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI yanked back the throttle as hard as I could and saw sparks flying from the console. The engines stalled and the emergency shutoff kicked in, my braking panels deployed, and my craft came to a complete stop. His fire went over me and the Interceptor flew past me, right into my sights. I saw him coming from the corner of my eye and started shooting and moving my nose in his direction. My tracers stitched him right down the middle, blew away parts of his wing, and he went into yaw as my fire tore through him. Fire spewed from his hull, his engines popped, and then he went up in a spectacular explosion. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Command, this is Angel One. Splash one Interceptor. Be advised, have discovered weak point on enemy destroyers. Advise friendly forces to target the underbelly of Sierra Delta craft. Target main hangars and engines. How copy?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Solid copy, Angel One. We read you Lima Charlie. What's your status?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"My engines are stalled, one engine gone, and I'm heavily damaged. Request immediate evac." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Acknowledged, Angel One. We'll get to you as soon as we can. Good job on that intel."/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Just doing my part, Command. Angel One out." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI shut down all non-essential systems to minimize my power signature, but there was little need. Within a few minutes the battle was turned in our favor. I switched to an open channel to get in on all the chatter going around, and I had to smile. Our remaining battleships were taking my advice and hitting the Star Destroyers in the belly, knocking them out of the sky one by one. Intel from the ground was just as good. Our boys were advancing on Carentan Massif and had knocked out the Imperial big guns, freeing up the orbital artillery to do its job. Blue bolts came up from the surface and ripped into all of the Imperial ships that I could see near me. I watched one light cruiser be completely destroyed, another lose its engines within two shots, and I smiled ear to ear when I watched a Star Destroyer be blown apart from tip to aft. Within about fifteen minutes, the Imperials were in full retreat. Our remaining ships closed in and took up positions above the planet, rescue birds were dispatched for me and the few other pilots that were stranded in disabled fighters. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"We did it, Gabby," I said as I dug my cross out of my jumpsuit, "we did it, girl. Rest in peace." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Capt. Borden Fett - 306supth/sup Legion, Imperial Army /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"1145 Local Time /span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"stronguspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Tyco 2 – King Louis Mountains /span/u/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Damn, I hate this planet. Everywhere I looked there was nothing but red dirt, black rock, and long, long horizons that stretched away into an infinity of nothing. Except that it wasn't just nothing. Somewhere out there, beyond the foothills just below us, was the Terran Federation. They had been chasing us for days and we had barely had enough time to dig in in these wretched mountains. The only thing that saved us was the fact that what was left of our air power managed to hold off the Mobile Infantry's advance from their hidden base in the mountains, at the cost of most of our fighters. It was a small victory, but a victory, nonetheless. It was the closest thing that we'd had since the battle at Carentan Massif. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI looked through my binocs at the shallow valleys down below our position. Those hills were low and not that steep, but they provided cover from the wide-open plains and broken lava flows that lay between the King Louis and the settlements of Legion's Rest and Bonaparte. We had practically leveled those towns when we took most of the planet. Why the hell the Feds fought so hard to get them back was beyond me, but they had wanted them back bad. I remembered hearing orders for the 127supth/sup Legion to stay behind and hold the Rest, a Stormtrooper outfit. None of them ever came back. Looking to my left and my right, up and down the trench lines, I could see on the faces of my men that they were demoralized. Since the Massif, we'd done nothing but run. Fed aircraft had harried us all the way from Carentan and had never let up, plus the running skirmishes and delaying actions that we'd had with those damned Mobile Infantry bastards. I'll say one thing for them, they were tough. A month ago, I'd had a full company of a hundred men under my command. Looking around our position, I saw forty. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Captain," a voice said behind me, "you missed the chow line." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I'm fine, sergeant." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Like hell you are. I haven't seen you eat for two days." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Have the men eaten?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"All of them. I made sure of it. I grabbed you this." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI looked down at what he was holding up for me. Half a ration bar and a half-full cup of java juice. I wanted to keep being the stalwart commander and tell him to split it up among the men, but my rumbling stomach had other plans. We'd been on half rations since the Massif, where most of our supplies had been, and reluctantly I gave in. I put my binocs back in their case on my belt, adjusted the sling on my blaster to that I could sit, and with my back against the wall of our trench I took the food and took a few sparing bites. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Any action so far?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Nothing yet," I replied around a mouthful of salty ration paste, "all quiet." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"How's the shoulder?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I've had worse. I'm here, aren't I?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Barely. I still say you should have evaced out with the rest of the wounded." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Not a chance in hell. I'm not going anywhere." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanTruth be told, my shoulder was killing me. A Fed bullet had blown away part of my left shoulder blade and just barely missed my lungs back at Carentan. I still couldn't believe how those bullets went through our armor like it wasn't even there. I'd fought Rebels and other forces who used slug throwers, but I'd never seen anything like the bullets that the MI used. I'd seen bullets tear right through our body armor and even our helmets, both of which were designed to stop blaster bolts cold. Some of the men had ditched the armor completely and were wearing just their standard black fatigues and gear. It was technically out of regulation and punishable by death or torture, but I couldn't blame them. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI finished the ration bar and sipped the java juice. It was dark and strong, just the way I liked it, and it was refreshing. I took the time to clean my rifle, something I had neglected for the past day or so. It had seen some serious use lately. I took out the power pack and cleared the chamber, putting it in my belt beside the others. It was only then that I realized that I was getting low. Looking down at the pouches on my belt, I counted three. A standard loadout was six. Each pack was good for a hundred shots from a standard E-11. The guys in the Stormtrooper Corps carried plasma cartridges that were good for 500 shots, but they were also given generally better equipment overall. I knew that most of the other units were running low on ammunition. Supply had been a problem ever since the Navy had pulled back to Tyco 7. We had been promised resupply and reinforcement once the fleet was in better shape. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanThere were a lot of people who didn't care for the E-11, but as far as I was concerned it was a damn fine weapon. Short, light, compact, pinpoint accurate, and small enough to be carried in a leg holster. The ones we'd been issued were the latest model, fresh out of the factories at BlasTech. Supply called them the E-11a. They were fitted from the factory with a 1-4x optical sight, collapsible stock, and an improved heat shield that kept the weapon cooler under sustained fire. That last bit came in real handy when a trooper felt the need to flick the switch to full auto. Most men kept the stock collapsed and the sight set to 1x, but I'd been around enough to know that the stock was there for a reason and that that optic could be a man's best friend when used at a distance. Standard ammunition was a K-38 standard power pack loaded at the left of the receiver. The K-41 plasma pack was standard for the Stormtrooper Corps, but us lowly Army grunts didn't usually warrant that kind of extravagance. Two men in my company were armed with the E-11/A2 Sniper Variant, basically the same weapon but with a fixed precision stock, a longer barrel, and a 3-12x scope. It had an effective range of three hundred meters, an optimum range of 100 meters, and three blast settings: kill, stun, and sting. Nobody ever used sting, and in ten years in the Army I had never once used the stun setting. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanIt was warm. Given the terrain and the proximity of this rock to the Tyco suns, one would think that it would be an oven. Up here in the mountains, though, it was just a little warmer than what I remembered back home on Coruscant. I took off my helmet and wiped the sweat from my hair, which was thinning towards the top. I was getting old. The black tunic, black jumpsuit, and leather gloves and boots didn't help. The standard Imperial Army uniform was all black and mostly made of synthetic materials. Not the friendliest to hostile environments, but good enough for most duties. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Kinda toasty, ain't it, Captain?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I don't get the humidity. There isn't a plant or a body of water anywhere on this miserable rock." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Something about the geysers." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"The what?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"The geysers. There's supposed to be thousands of 'em on the southern continent. This planet is highly volcanically active. the magma boils up under the crust, superheats the water in the soil, which creates geysers the size of Star Destroyers down in the south. In a few million years, this place will probably be a tropical paradise. Kinda like Mimban." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"What? Mimban was no damn paradise. Hot, wet, humid, swampy, and MLA behind every rock and tree. Remember those guys?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Oh yeah. They were tough bastards. Not as tough as the Wookies on Kashyyk, though. That was a raw deal." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Meh. You can't really blame them for that one. They might have been primitive, but they were some of the best soldiers I've ever fought." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"So, what do you think about these guys? The Mobile Infantry, I mean." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Honestly?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Of course." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I think they might be the best damn fighting men I've ever seen. You saw them at the Massif. I've fought Wookies, Rebels, and just about everyone else, but these guys are something else. The Rebels are brave, I'll give them that, but they're no match for us and they know it. They might be hell in the stars but on the ground, it's not even close. These Mobile Infantry, though . . . they just might be as good at this game as us. Maybe even better. They're well armed, well trained, well supplied, and they have some excellent ordnance at their disposal. Remember how they hit the big guns on Carentan? And the way that armor just kept coming across those flats no matter how hard we hit them and how many of them we killed? We had a line fifty kilometers long and they hit us at the strongest point. Who does that?"/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I was more impressed with the way that base held out for so long. I don't think a Sullastan could have built that place any more solid. We beat the hell out of that place for a month with everything we had and they didn't budge. Who was it they were fighting before this? You know, the ones they took the system from a few years ago." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"The Arachnids."/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Yeesh. I've heard a lot about them, and none of it good." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I think the Republic tangled with them back in the day." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"How did that turn out?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Let's just say there's a reason the Empire didn't get to annex this half of the galaxy." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI finished the last of the java and threw the drags of it into the red dirt. It was good to be talking to Staff Sergeant Kanata again. He was one of the few men that I knew I could be candid with, regardless of rank. We had served together for the better part of six years and he had been in some of the deepest shit that the Empire could dream up. Older than me and much stockier, balding and with a well-trimmed mustache that had somehow eluded Imperial regulations thus far, he was one of the few men that I had ever met that had absolutely no fear. At the Massif, I'd seen him charge down a tunnel that was alive with Fed rifle fire to save a wounded comrade, then stay behind to hold them off while the rest of us withdrew. He had commendations from the Mimban Campaign, the Wookie Insurrection, and a dozen other battles that had left plenty of other men dead and bloody. Someone had once told me in the Officer's Mess that he had started out as an auxiliary serving alongside the Clone Troopers, that he had been one of the men that had stormed General Grievous' stronghold on Utapau, and I believed it. If ever there was a man that was bred for war, it was him. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanI looked up and down our trench line, not liking what I saw. My men, Gold Company of Second Battalion, 306supth/sup Legion, 224supth/sup Imperial Armored Division, were dug in on the west slope of what the map called Sheridan's Peak. These mountains, the King Louis, were a young mountain range that might someday be snowcapped and covered in forests but right now were just a string of low peaks that stretched about seven hundred kilometers long and about two hundred kilometers deep. The highest peaks were around four thousand meters at the summit, but down here in the foothills we were sitting at about five hundred meters or so from ground level. Some low hills at the foot of Sheridan masked the desert from view, but we had dug in behind them to provide screening from enemy fire. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanBesides Gold Company, there were a total of six companies dug in on this part of Sheridan's Peak. Us and Blue Company were entrenched across four hundred meters of black rock and loose red dirt, supported by a pair of howitzers about a kilometer back in the mountains and a couple hundred meters above us in elevation. The rest of the legion was dug in to the south of us, covering about a kilometer and a half of territory. The 322supnd/sup was to our north on Mount Galahad, and farther south was Mount Karnak and the 153suprd/sup. What was left of our armor, a few AT-ST walkers and a company of hovertanks, was in a valley on the other side of Sheridan that opened up just north of us between Sheridan's Peak and Mount Galahad. We had a field hospital in that same valley. Most of our high command was further back in the mountains with the artillery, dug into some hastily built bunkers. It was a good position, better than Carentan, and if we had more support and fresh troops to defend it, we could hold it almost indefinitely. We'd lost most of our air support when the Navy pulled out, but we had a few fighters left that were hidden up in the high mountain valleys. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWith the exception of my two snipers, every man was armed with a standard E-11 rifle, three thermal detonator grenades, and a utility knife. Each trooper was carrying at least three power packs for his rifle (I'd made sure each man got the same number when the last crate of ammunition was handed out) in his belt, along with a comms module and other supplies. Sidearms were not issued to the infantry, but as an officer I had the option to carry one and had paid out of pocket for a DL-44 that I carried at my left hip in a crossdraw holster. In addition to their standard rifles, one man in each squad also carried a DL-29 light repeating blaster for fire support. We were also blessed with two E-Web heavy repeating blasters mounted on tripods and fed by power generators. These were placed in sandbag bunkers and manned by a crew of three, while each DL-29 was operated by two men, a gunner and an assistant gunner who carried the ammunition and assisted in loading. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Well," Sergeant Kanada said beside me, "you think they're coming?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"They're coming. This morning's intel stated that another division landed two days ago. Between that and the air support from the fleet in the atmosphere and from that base, they're in a good position to launch an assault. We have a good field of fire here and a solid position, but without air support of our own we won't hold out for long."/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"You think they'll come at us like they did at Carentan?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"I would. As far as Imperial forces on this planet, we're it. One good push and they can push us off this rock for good." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Has anyone said when reinforcements are due to arrive?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"No word. The Navy is stationed at Tyco 7, two battle groups are being diverted from the front lines, but no word on when they're due to arrive. They'll have to deal with the Feds in orbit before they can land. They beat the hell out of our boys, but from what I hear the Feds are in bad shape themselves."/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"This is some bad shit, Captain. I've never been in combat without the Navy watching my back. I feel naked down here." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"You aren't the only one. What I wouldn't give for a Star Destroyer and a hangar full of TIEs right about now."/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"No kidding." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanA rumble in the sky caught our attention. We all knew that sound all too well. Those F-76 Thundercats had been on our tail since the start of our retreat from Carentan Massif. The sound of those engines had been in our nightmares for weeks, and as I looked through my binocs again I could see two squadrons of them coming in fast and hard. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span"Speak of the devil. Look alive, men! We have company for supper!" span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanWe all knew the drill. We all dove into the cover of the trench, everyone grabbed for their blasters, and the gunners pulled their heavy blasters into the bunkers we had prepared. We had all seen the power of Federation air power before and we knew what kind of havoc they could cause on a trench line, and we had learned valuable lessons from the experience. Our trenches had been dug in a zigzag pattern rather than the traditional straight or slightly curved lines that we had used against the Rebellion or the Seperatists during the Clone Wars. We had dug the trench five feet deep, six feet across, and with a simple underground bunkers every fifty meters that could hold five or six men. In addition to the bunkers, we had dug an overhang on the rear of the trench that was just big enough for a man to squat under. I tossed the drags of my java into the dirt and threw the cup under the overhang, grabbed up my E-11, and dove for cover as soon as I was sure that my men were all under cover as well. The Thundercats came roaring in a second or two before I got under cover, the purple tracers almost singeing my heels as I dove under the overhang. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanSergeant Kanata was in the dirt beside me and we huddled under the shallow lip of the trench. I watched over his shoulder as the tracers zipped down the line of our trenches in an almost perfect line, heard the constant rumble of the guns as they zoomed overhead at nearly speed of sound, and then I heard the momentary whistle of the bombs. The Thundercats dropped them as they strafed overhead with pinpoint precision, but a man only had a split second to hear them before they hit. I heard the slight whistle as the jets vanished into the distance, and then the bombs hit. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanIt's amazing what the ears can do when one is in a state of tremendous fear. I knew that the amount of ordnance being dropped on us would be heard and felt for miles in every direction, but as I cupped my hands around my ears and shut my eyes against dust, all I heard was the dull rumble and the quaking of the earth as the bombs ripped the mountain apart. I tried to count the blasts, but after six or seven explosions they all began to mix in with each other and the rumble became a constant din. I could barely hear another squadron come roaring in and drop another salvo of bombs. I'd been shelled before and had bombs dropped on me before on plenty of other worlds, but no one I had ever fought had ever brought the kind of pain that the Federation could. Even the Rebel Alliance couldn't bring this kind of air power to bear. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanIt felt like an eternity of fire, dust, and noise but in reality, it couldn't have been more than ten or fifteen seconds of carnage. The ground finally stopped shaking and the red dust began to settle against the black rock, and after a moment or two I mustered the courage to step out from under the overhang and into the open trench. Everywhere I looked, there was sheer destruction. Craters several meters across had been blown out of the side of the mountain, whole sections of trench to our left and right had been completely destroyed, and as I looked to the north at Mount Galahad, I could see that the 322supnd/sup had been hit harder than we had. Gigantic charred craters were dotted all along their lines, most of them still smoldering. Looking up and down the trench, I saw the holes where the Federation bullets had impacted. If we had stayed in our original positions, most of my men would have been cut in half. I glanced to the south and saw the beginnings of the 153suprd/sup's line on Karnak, and they had been hit just as hard. I didn't dare to think about what might have happened farther back in the mountains. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"We had several powerful scanning blockers in place all over the King Louis that would keep nearly any orbital scanning technology from getting a good reading on the terrain or our positions, but the Federation had the advantage of knowing these mountains far better than any of us ever would and they would know the likely places where a force like ours might dig in and try to defend. Those pilots knew that we were here, but they obviously didn't know exactly where we were. If they had, it was a good bet that none of us would be alive right now. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"As the men began to emerge from cover, my ringing ears suddenly picked up a new sound. It was a low hum, then slowly a dull rumble. I looked off into the distance and saw a fleet of small dots approaching from the west. I dug the binocs out of my belt pouch and peered through the swirling dust. I zoomed in and saw them clearly; Federation landing craft, dozens of them, each one carrying up to a platoon of Mobile Infantry. If they were about to start landing troops, then the armor and mechs wouldn't be far behind them. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""To your positions! Incoming enemy!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Within moments the men were back in their fighting positions. We had lost one of our E-Webs to the bombs, but the other was still operational. The gun crews with the DL-29s went back into their firing positions and set up for an attack. I saw my two snipers return to their positions and begin scanning the area below us, ready to engage, and I shouted for every rifleman in the company to extend their stocks and prepare for contact. Sergeant Kanata was already running up and down the trench line barking orders in his deep, booming voice that was brimming with raw authority. My commlink was suddenly alive with reports of enemy craft incoming and calls for support. I called in my own report and clipped the commlink back to my belt, then went back to looking toward the approaching craft. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I watched through the binocs as the landing craft came in and descended behind the foothills below us, disappearing behind those low hills into the valleys that were out of sight from our position. I could just imagine the scene that was unfolding. Craft landing in neat little rows, their ramps dropping at the tail of the craft, and scores of troopers rushing out to secure the perimeter and protect the landing site for the next round of troops. I could hear the officers shouting orders, sergeants and buck lieutenants cursing at their men, and soldiers acknowledging commands and falling into formation. They would be moving within a few minutes, and when they came for us they would be coming through a select few tracks between the foothills that we had ranged and scanned as we fortified our positions. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I grabbed my rifle from my hip and checked the chamber, flicked on the optic, and extended the stock. I knelt down behind a hummock of black rock, my rifle in one hand and the binocs in the other, and watched them as they came up through the hills along the trails and tracks that we had marked. I could see their grey uniforms and body armor against the red dirt, I could see their long columns rushing up like Geonosians from a blasted mine, and as they spread out into the open they immediately formed up into battle lines. I tagged the nearest unit and saw that they were approximately six hundred meters away and closing. Some of the men started firing at the approaching figures, but a few stout commands from Kanata and myself stopped them. Six hundred meters was nearly double the effective range of our weapons. The bolts would still hit somewhere near them but at that range they would barely have the power of a stun blast. I reached for my commlink and began to lift it to my lips when a bullet cracked past my head, missing me by less than a foot, and I dove into the trench to take cover. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Take cover! Everyone, grab cover now!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The bullets came in faster and louder now, the pops and cracks of them sailing overhead now mixing with the din of rifle fire coming from the Mobile Infantry positions. Sergeant Kanata grabbed the armor of two men a few meters away from me and pulled them into the trench as if they were rowdy children. I saw more men diving for cover just as I had, but not everyone was so lucky. I heard the visceral thud of a bullet finding flesh and saw a man go down, then another trooper's helmet exploded in a red shower of red mist just a few feet in front of me and he toppled backwards like a ragdoll. The bullet had entered just above his right eye and had blown away most of the back of his head, then ripped through his helmet and destroyed the back panel. Somewhere one the other side of the bend in the trench I heard a man screaming in pain while one of his comrades called for a medic. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sir!", a young private near me shouted over the noise, "sir, how are they engaging us from that distance?!"/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Their weapons have three times the range of ours. Keep your head down, private! Those bullets will tear you apart a lot worse than a blaster bolt will. Trust me on that!"/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I immediately disobeyed my own order, lifting my head just high enough over the rim of the trench to see the Federation troops. They were dispersed into long skirmish lines and were interspersed in about squad- or platoon-sized elements, every man on his belly and most of them laying down well aimed fire on our lines. With the range of those rifles, they could pin us down almost completely until their reinforcements arrived. Only a few blaster models could match the range and power of those Federation guns, none of which were issued to the Imperial Army. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Call for fire, call for fire," I shouted into my commlink, "I say again, call for fire! This is Gold Zero One requesting immediate close fire support, enemy infantry in the open, fire for effect. How copy?" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""emGold Zero One, this is Cannon Four. Call for fire received. Please confirm target coordinates."/em/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I tapped the computer on my wrist and pulled up the overhead map that had been scanned by the Navy boys before they retreated, hit our location, and estimated the Mobile Infantry's positions as best I could. Peeking over the trench to confirm my estimates, I called out the coordinates. The howitzer crews confirmed my coordinates, then a few seconds later I could just barely hear the distant echo of the big guns. There was a rush of wind, a low whistling sound, and then the shells came in like streaks of red lightning in a thunderstorm. I could see only a brief flash of red, perhaps half a second, before the shells hit the ground and exploded in a brilliant flash of fire and dust. A salvo of four shells came in, hitting a long section of the MI line. I saw men down and others running to assist the wounded, but most of them were still shooting and still in the fight. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Cannon Four, this is Gold Zero One. Good effect on target. Shift fire right one hundred, up twenty-five. Fire for effect." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Another round of distant booms sounded, followed a few seconds later by another salvo of shells. The ground rumbled and the dust flew up again, but they didn't budge. Bullets were still hissing and popping through the warm air, kicking red dust from the lip of the trench. Some of the troopers were still trying to return fire, as ineffectual as it might be. As the dust began to settle and the rumble of the bombs began to fade, I looked over the trench to call in more fire and saw the last thing that I wanted to see. Through the swirling dust, far in the distance, I could see another wave of landing craft coming in. This one was much larger than the first, and they weren't just coming towards us. I saw one wing of landing craft veer off and turn north toward Galahad and south toward Mount Karnak. That first wave was just a beaching force, so this had to be the actual attack. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I lifted my commlink to call in more fire, but a shout from the Federation line caught my attention. The shooting had subsided a little and my ears had gotten used to the noise enough for me to pick up an officer rising to his feet, lifting his arm, and screaming at the top of his lungs, "Come on, you apes! You wanna live forever?!". Nothing about that sounded good to me. He broke into a dead run up the mountain, firing as he went, and a second or two later he was joined by the rest of his men. They left the ground as one man and came charging toward us, sounding out a battle cry as they came at us that sounded eerily like the Wookies that I had fought in Kashyyk. They fired as they charged, with surprising accuracy, but they were coming hard and fast and they meant to take this mountain. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"In my mind, I ran through the orders that must have forced the move. The second wave was coming in to reinforce the first, but the commanders wanted the landing zone cleared and the beachhead secured before the main force could land. They now knew that our line was intact and that we had artillery supporting us, and that first wave had to clear those cannons out before the main assault could safely commence. In order to do that, they had to take out our position. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Cannon Four, cannon four, this is Gold Zero One. Continue as fire on previously established coordinates. Enemy attack inbound to my position. Fire for effect." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Without waiting for a reply, I shoved the commlink back into my belt and lifted my rifle to the edge of the trench. They were still well out of range, but they were closing fast. Looking through the optic, I put a sight on the first officer I could find. Looking to my left and right, I saw that my men needed no orders. They were darting to their positions, hunkering behind cover with weapons ready, and Sergeant Kanata was barking quick orders to the fire support teams to keep their heavy weapons ready. I saw him go to one knee a few meters from the EWEB, his blaster in his right hand and his binocs in his left, calling out distances as they MI moved in. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The bullets whistled and snapped over our heads as the MI charged, but I focused on the sound of their guns as they advanced. The sound came closer and closer, inching yard by yard closer to our trench line. I peeked over the trench again and saw them coming, bounding squad by squad as they came. I looked at our range markers and mentally counted off the distance. They were four hundred meters away, then three hundred, and within a minute or two they were closing in on two hundred meters from our position. I lifted my rifle over the lip of the trench, flicked the safety lever off, took in a deep breath, and went to my feet as I screamed out the order my men had been waiting for: "Open fire!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I found the first man I could in my optic and put the reticle on his chest, squeezed off my shot, and then shifted to another target before I saw the first man fall. Our entire line erupted in a squealing wave of red death as every blaster spat flame and unleashed a murderous fire on the MI down below. I saw men stagger and fall, saw the blaster bolts explode in showers of sparks as they impacted flesh and armor, and soon the air around me became nearly superheated by the heat of our fire. I heard the EWEB roar to life off to my right and saw the massive bolts sweep across the MI line, raising grenade-sized explosions with every impact, while our heavy blaster gunners cut loose with short, staccato bursts targeting the most clustered groups of Federation troops. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I looked through my scope and found a target, a man that looked to be an officer, and squeezed off two fast shots that hit him in the chest and face. Another man appeared just behind him and I fired again, hitting him in the chest, and when he staggered a bit but didn't go down I fired again and saw the bolt hit him in the hip and drop him. I swept my aim to my left and fired a quick shot at a man that was lifting his rifle to fire. I don't know if I hit him or not, since I saw his gun bark and heard a bullet snap just a few inches from my ear. I ducked into the trench and went in a crouching run to my right, my blaster ready to fire. I passed a man that took a hit in his shoulder and he nearly fell over me as he went down. Two of his comrades immediately ceased fire and went to work patching his wound. Another man a few meters ahead of me took a headshot and dropped like a stone, his lifeless body crumpling into a heap. I head more men screaming and grunting as they took their wounds, but I forced myself not to look at them. The battle had been joined and it was my duty to focus on the task of winning the fight and keeping my men alive. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"After moving about a dozen meters or so, I got to my feet again behind a low rock wall that we had built as an entrenchment. My blaster was up and I immediately found a man in my sight, fired, then ducked down behind cover again as bullets bounced off of the rocks. I looked over the trench again and saw that, despite our murderous fire, the Mobile Infantry had closed the gap between us to just over a hundred meters. Dozens of their men were dead or wounded and they had lost several of their officers, but they were still pushing forward. Those were some brave men! Both forces were now within optimal range of the other's weapons and there was just no way that it didn't turn into a bloodbath. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Over the din of the battle, I almost didn't hear the sound of our artillery shells coming in. I had almost forgot that I had called in more fire just before we opened the fire. I could just barely hear the rumble of the shells coming down from the lower atmosphere, but as they came lower and lower the sound of it almost drowned out the sound of the fighting. I saw the flash of the shells and almost didn't hear the initial sound of the explosions that kicked up great clouds of red dust and debris and a shockwave that knocked me off my feet. I saw Federation soldiers leave the ground or vanish completely in the flash of the explosions even as many of my own men were knocked to the ground. I hit the floor of the trench and nearly choked on the dust that blinded the battlefield completely. I stumbled to my feet and got back on the line, ready to fire, but I couldn't see more than a few meters in front of me. There was still shooting from both sides and I could just barely hear men shouting and barking orders over the ringing in my ears. Bullets kicked the dirt all around me and I could see the red lines of our blaster fire slicing through the dust cloud. I squinted to see through the cloud, trying to find any target, but after a few seconds I had to look away to wipe the sand and dust from my eyes. I wiped it with the back of my glove, blinked a few times to clear my eyes, and when I looked up I saw six men emerging from the red haze like ghosts from the ether. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"It took only a moment for me to realize that I was in trouble. I knew that there were others near me, but those men coming out of the dust were all focused one me and I saw the shock in their eyes as we saw each other at the same time and two of them began to lift their weapons. My own blaster was at my hip and I had been trained extensively to fight at just this distance. Before I could think about it, my hands pointed the blaster and my finger squeezed off two fast shots at the first man's chest, then two more into the man behind him. A third trooper charged the trench and leaped into it before I could get a shot at him, landing a few feet to my right. Instantly he swept the trench with automatic rifle fire and dropped two of my men before I could turn and but a bolt in his neck that nearly took his head off. Another man came screaming out of the cloud and jumped into the trench, landing on top of me and knocking us both to the ground. My blaster flew from my hands and his rifle was knocked behind him by the impact, bouncing by its sling against his rump. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The next few seconds were a blur. The trooper hit the ground rolling and almost got to his feet before I could grab the collar of his armor and hit him in the jaw. He went back a step and I went in for another blow, which he evaded, and when I stepped back to steady myself I saw him draw a large knife from his belt. He came at me and tried a stab for my guts, but I stepped back just in time and felt the tip of the blade hit my gear. He kept coming and slashed at my neck, then he punched me in the chest and came charging forward to run me through with the knife. I tried to step back and felt my foot roll over a loose stone and I fell backward. The trooper kept coming and my fall threw off his stab as he fell on top of me. I grabbed for his throat as he fell and grabbed his wrist with my left hand as we hit the dust. He was strong, much bigger than the average Imperial trooper, and he knew what he was doing. He tried to force his knife hand from mine as his left hand closed in an iron grip around my right forearm. We grappled over the knife, each of us fighting for a strong position over the other. He lifted his knee and struck me in the groin, nearly loosening my grip, and then after a few seconds of grappling he tried the same move again. Seeing the move coming, I took advantage of the temporary shift in his weight to hit him with my own knee in his left thigh. It knocked him off balance he fell flat on top of me. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I summoned all my strength and rolled him over and underneath me. I grabbed his knife wrist with both hands and tried to force the blade into his throat. He was immensely strong, the sleeves of his uniform bulging with powerful muscles, and he held the knife steady despite my best efforts. He kneed me in the groin again, harder this time, and when I winced in pain, he head-butted me with his helmet and knocked me backward and off his body. I was momentarily dazed as he rolled to his knee and came in to finish me off, but as I saw the knife coming in for a stab to my throat, I saw two blaster bolts explode against his chest and knock him against the back wall of the trench. I lifted the DL44 in my hand and shot him in the face. I had no memory of drawing the pistol or of even thinking of doing so, but it was there and smoking in my hand. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"It took only a moment for me to compose myself. I holstered the pistol and found my E-11 again, grabbed it, and went back to the firing line. The dust was beginning to clear, and I could see clearly again, and what I saw was horrifying. Everywhere I looked, there were bodies. Dead and dying MI soldiers were scattered across the slope, at the edge of our trench line, and even inside our trenches. Their main force had retreated to whatever cover they could find and were still shooting at us, but the attack had been broken. Looking up and down our line, I saw the bodies of both Federation and Empire soldiers strewn across the trench, some on top of one another. I saw the craters in the mountainside where great chunks of the mountain had been blown away by our guns. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"After a moment, my senses began to clear and the ringing in my ears began to wane. It was only then that I could hear the screams of the wounded and dying men all around me, the distant gunshots from enemy fire, and in the far distance I could now hear the rumble of battle to the north and south of us. I heard a faint wailing from TIE fighter ion engines and I looked up just in time to see a pair of them zoom by overhead with two Federation fighters on their tail. I looked to the north and saw a squadron of Federation fighters come in low and fast over our lines on Galahad, then a second later two long strings of explosions from the bombs they had dropped. I saw the muted puffs of displaced air and flames, then a couple of seconds later I heard the booms and felt what was left of the shockwaves. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"It was only then that I heard the static of my commlink. I couldn't make out what was said, so I ducked behind the cover of the trench and grabbed it from my belt, holding it to my ear. I could hear men screaming through the static calling for fire support, medevacs, and reinforcements, I could hear officers calling out orders to the units below them, and among the garbled channels I could just barely make out transmissions from Command. I switched to the Command frequency to report our status, but before I could clear my throat to call out the message, I heard the voice of General Thade himself barking an order. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""I repeat, this is a general retreat! Again, a general retreat! All units fall back to secondary positions and establish a new perimeter. We have lost air support and scanning blockers. All units retreat to secondary –"/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The line went dead and the commlink screeched in my ear so loudly that I had to pull it away. I felt the ground shake and heard a rumble from behind us, farther up the mountain, and I looked up just in time to see a wave of red dust coming down the slope at us. Streaks of blue light ripped down from the atmosphere and I could see bursts of light where they hit the ground, and then the shockwaves hit us and I heard the deafening booms and rumbles from the explosions of the huge shells. I knew exactly what those were, because I had called in hundreds of such strikes from orbital batteries and had always loved the sight of high-powered artillery raining death from the skies. General Thade said that we had lost our scanning shield, which meant that the Federation Fleet could now see our positions on their scopes and place accurate fire on our key command posts. I shuddered and went a little cold when I realized that the bombs I was seeing were being placed on the primary command bunker where the general and his staff were housed, several kilometers up the mountain from us. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Another salvo of orbital fire lit up the sky and I ordered my men to take cover, even though I knew that there was no way we would survive a direct hit, but as the blue shells descended from the copper sky I realized that they weren't directed at us. They struck farther up the mountain, at our artillery positions, then more streaked into the valley between us and Mount Galahad. Great plumes of red dust were thrown up from the valley that looked as tall as the buildings I had grown up around on Coruscant. I looked up again and saw more fire directed at the valleys farther back in the mountains where what was left of our air power had been hidden. The bombardment lasted for a solid minute, shaking the very ground so violently that some of the bodies that had been lying on the edge of our trench tumbled in among us. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"It never ceases to amaze me how much of a deafening silence falls upon a battlefield once the bombs and the fighting ends. I laid in the floor of the trench, huddled with two enlisted men with our arms covering our face and our hands on our helmets, and then suddenly the bombing stopped, and the ground stopped quaking and the mountain was suddenly as silent as the stars far above our heads. It took a few seconds for us to muster the courage to lift our heads and dare to look around us. I was the first to gaze out of the trench. To the north of us I could see several plumes of black smoke that had to be our armored vehicles, the line along the slope of Mount Galahad was in flames and the mountain was dotted with black craters, and as I glanced to the south. I saw that the black waves of troops evacuating their positions. Another wave of Federation landing craft were coming in from the west, reinforcing the massive force that must have been gathering at the foot of Sheridan's Peak for a final assault. My company had been decimated, as had the rest of our line. There was simply no way that we could hold this position when Mobile Infantry came at us again. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Gold Company!," I could barely choke out the words through the dust in my throat, "Fall back to secondary positions! Sergeant Kanata, direct the gunners to provide suppressive fire for the withdrawal. Squad leaders, fall back by squads to provide support. Sergeant Kanata! Sergeant, front and center!"/span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sir," a young corporal called out from somewhere to my left, "the Sarge is gone, sir." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""What was that, corporal?!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sergeant Kanata, sir. He's dead, sir." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"I couldn't believe it. I'd seen Kanata face down death a thousand times and come out on top, as if Death itself were afraid to take him. I'd seen him shot, stabbed, beaten, and bombed in a dozen battles on as many worlds, and all but once he had come out without a scratch. I pushed my way through the trench to get to the corporal who had spoken up, stepping over the bodies of my own men and MI troopers alike, until I finally came to where the young soldier was standing. I could see the shock on his own face that must have also been on mine. Without a word, he stepped aside and I looked past him at a medic who was crouched beside a dead man who was propped up against the wall of the trench. His face was turned away from me and his uniform was torn and covered in blood, but I knew it was Kanata. I recognized the ring sparse black hair around the bare dome of his bare head, the insignia on his sleeve from his old unit in the 84supth/sup Special Forces, and most of all I knew that blue bracelet that he wore on his right wrist. His sleeve was rolled up and I could see it, covered in blood, just above his glove. He had told me once that it was a memento from his sister back home on Sorgan. /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Captain, sir," I heard from behind me, "I have Colonel Salayas on the comms, sir. He's ordering a general surrender, sir. Federation forces are offering unconditional terms." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Fair enough. Men! Lay down your arms and step out with your hands up! It's over. They win this round." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Federal Network: VICTORY ON TYCO 2!/span/strong/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Yesterday at 1600 local time, General Blake of the 112supth/sup Mobile Infantry Division accepted the surrender of 15,000 Imperial soldiers on the embattled planet of Tyco 2. After months of bloody combat and heroic efforts by the Mobile Infantry and Fleet, the planet is once again in the hands of Federation forces. Sky Marshal Nobunaga has announced, "This is only the first step toward a total victory! We will not rest until the dead of Tyco are avenged and the Empire has been driven from our space! This message is for the Emperor himself: we're coming for you!" /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Fleet Command reports that 4,586 Mobile Infantry lost their lives in the gallant defense and retaking of Tyco 2, as well as 1,260 Fleet personnel. Imperial losses are unknown but are estimated to be between ten and twelve thousand men dead with at least 900 wounded among those captured. Sky Marshal Nobunaga has ordered two additional battle groups to the Tyco System as well twelve divisions of Mobile Infantry troops for Fleet Command promises to be a "overwhelming assault" on Imperial settlements within the system. Sources within the Galactic Empire have stated that further aggression in Tyco "will be met with the full might and power of the Imperial military." /span/p
p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Would you like to know more? /span/strong/p