Unknow guest They have no problems but thrawn needs willing workers and slaves are plentiful, he just has to make them like him so that the good ones work and don't rebel.

Big E thanks for the help. I agree with you but when the author says his opinion everyone just thinks 'is he stupid? So thanks.


"Attention, all units stand by, the fleet is beginning its bombardment." With these words, the Star Destroyers fired their turbo lasers at the ground, destroying weapon emplacements, large groups of infantry, vehicles and stationary guns. The mercenaries began to run for their lives and previously heavily defended positions were simply abandoned. Some buildings collapsed and blocked the roads, these were broken up in other places by the shelling and so littered with craters. It continued until every major group was broken up.

All this Ayer watched and when the shelling ceased he gave the relieving order. "Launch the first wave." The Gunships rise from the Hanga ground and spiral towards the ground.

Over his HUD, Major Ayer watched the first wave land. The Gunships fired their Reptilian lasers and missiles, shredding the surviving entrenched Batarians and driving them away for good. They then went into hover and dropped the stormtroopers. They advanced and took the mercenaries' former positions without much trouble.

"General Covell, the first wave has secured the landing zone. I'll have the second wave launched."

"Have the second wave launch and establish a safe zone for the fighters."

"Yes sir, the shuttles are launching now." He changed the channel to the fleet frequency. "Have all shuttles launch." A few seconds later, the heavy Sentinel shuttles launch and head towards the planet.

The shuttle rocks as it flies random evasive maneuvers to provide as heavy a target as possible. Every soldier eventually learns to just silently accept these manoeuvres and so the helmeted heads of the stormtroopers move in time with the jerks and swings of the shuttle. To an outsider it might look like they were paying homage to some arcane deity, but it was simply energy saving.

"Major, landing in 30 seconds." Finally came the message from the shuttle pilot.

"Roger that." He changed the channel to the general frequency.

"Major, all units prepare to land."

All the soldiers reached for their rifles, which were mounted in the holders next to each soldier, and readied them for firing.

"Landing in ten." Once again everything was checked, which really made no sense as all the equipment had endured at least 3 accurate checks (two done by themselves and one by a comrade) and countless quick checks. The likelihood of any error being detected now is virtually nil, but even stormtroopers with all their physiological and psychological training spent the time as any soldier would.

"Landing in five." Reports the pilot once more. The brackets release and the red rags filled the cabin with their light.

"Four." The soldiers stand up.

"Three." They all took a step away from the seats and stood in the middle. He himself stood at the front. Stormtrooper officers didn't hide behind their soldiers or in tanks, and they certainly didn't order them out of a ship in orbit. They stood in formation with their soldiers, but in most attacks they brought up the rear. He was the first of the second wave, he led his soldiers into serious battle and he will take victory with them, even if he hated the rank of major.

All officers had to complete the extreme training and a great many were promoted to can, but just because he can, doesn't mean he has to like it. He didn't know how, but his Grand Admiral realised that he sometimes longed to be in the role of the Simple Soldier and that his stormtroopers liked to see their officers fighting with them. And with someone who knew when to say or do what.

"Two." Just the breathing of the soldiers. They were a single White Line, two men wide and nineteen long, the platoon's lieutenant left beside him. They were the Armoured Fist of the Empire. They were the water that ground every rock to sand. They were the White Infinite Wall that their enemies would fear.

"One."

"GO! GO! GO!" The lights jump to green and at the same moment the storm ramps fall to the ground with a crash. He storms out, followed by his platoon of guards. Their helmets instantly adjust the light sensitivity so the light of the setting sun doesn't blind them. More shuttles land, all without a hitch, and more stormtroopers march into what must have been the marketplace on the outskirts of town. Some of the buildings had collapsed from all the shelling and none were without holes, blackened facades and shattered windows. The stone floor was blackened and in some places cracked from the heat. The wooden stands and the tribune had been exposed to such intense heat that they were no longer there. The stone pillars were broken, some pieces as small and sharp as shell splinters, others as big as people and everyone in between. The star destroyers hovering above them cast huge shadows on the ground.

After a quick look around and realising they were not being fired upon, he opens a channel to the captain of the first wave.

"Captain, what do you see?"

"Sir, the pirates have fled and dropped back into the city. We can't see any large groups from here, the navi has broken them up."

"Understood, they will serve as rear guards for the fighters as they advance into the city."

"Yes, sir." The captain did not sound happy, but he had been given the task of landing first, so he would be the last to advance. With that in mind, he switched to the channel for the officers.

"Attention, all battalions follow battle plan alpha by plan. Scout units are to advance by specialisation and scout enemy positions or take sniper positions. Deploy the Vipers, have them search everything."

A series of acknowledgements answered him and he switched to the channel for his captains.

"Company 1 Alpha, secure the main road for the fighters. Road and houses.

1 Bravo, Secure the side streets parallel to the main road.

1 Charlie, Fill gaps and provide support.

1 Delta remain to serve as vangard for the combat runners and give you close defence."

"Sir, Yes Sir." His captains answer him and began directing their units forward.

Again he changes the channel this time to the one that connects him to all units on the battlefield.

"Attention update to all units, the special orders for the attack are FI-3488, FB-5690 and FF-4364."

The first order was for requesting air support, the second was for helping comrades and the third was for self-protection. However, only the number mattered, the letters indicate the importance of the order and two of the orders were unusually important. Stormtroopers are rarely ordered to help themselves or even their comrades, so it's best to say it again so that the soldiers don't act out of pure reflex and go against their orders.

Without being attacked, the soldiers advance in all directions and secure the landing zone for good. He watches the ensuing progress via his HUD as he slowly walks towards the main road. Their orders were clear, they were to be thorough and not to take risks under any circumstances. He didn't understand why, they were trained to hit the enemy fast and hard. So fast that he has no way to strike back, but his Grand Admiral wants it that way and so far no decision he has made has been a big mistake. So he does as he is told.

Only far away does he catch the search droids floating off to break into houses or investigate side streets. He looked at the displays on his HUD, they showed a lot of symbols, some were danger symbols or symbols for civilians and soldiers, markings for areas with high energy consumption and the first droids reported heavy weapons or snipers they detect with their sophisticated sensors. Of course, he couldn't see every enemy or civilian in this zoom mode, but he could see larger concentrations and overall numbers. None were particularly conspicuous or worthy of ordering an orbital strike, but there were still many and it would take time to deal with each group. In short, his HUD was a mess of symbols and messages, via audio he listens to the orders and messages from the officers and he notices how he began to sink into this stream of data. His world was nothing but symbols, messages, words and updates.

"1 to Scout, we need snipers at 3." He reported to the scout unit officer.

"Scout copy, reserves en route to 3."

"1 to 3, their 3 and 4 are too far apart. Bring them back together."

"Sir yes sir."

"1 to 2, their 1 is too fast. Hold them back." he gave his order to the major of the 2nd Battalion.

"2 Roger." He looked at everything again and marked positions to be taken and held so that the main force could land without problems. He picked out a wide road dividing the inner from the outer rings. It was wide and without any means of protection, ideal for killing anyone foolish enough to enter it and once the walkers had landed they could overrun everyone.

After everyone has confirmed the orders and he has made sure that they are not inadvertently ignored. He activated several filters and switched to his battalion's channel. The massive stream of data stopped flooding his display and he became the major of a single battalion again.

"Leader to 1." He transmitted it to his First Company captain.

"This is 1, sir." Comes the reply.

"How does it look?"

"We're meeting little resistance, but we're too few and there are too many groups to worry about, plus the longer it takes us, the greater the chance they'll fight back effectively."

"Understood, any unit they cannot engage should be destroyed by orbital strike and do not attempt to pursue the enemy."

"Yes, sir."

With that, Ayer cut the connection. Only now did he realise that he had dropped to one knee and he was still in the marketplace. While he has been coordinating the attack, darkness has fallen and most of the soldiers have switched their helmets to night vision so snipers don't have to shoot at the source of the light immediately to kill them.

After taking the time to command his own battalion, he stood up and walked forward towards his soldiers. He looked at the positions of the various units. The result was sobering. He had been so deeply engrossed in the displays that he hadn't noticed that they hadn't even made it 200 meters. Inwardly he cursed. They were not trained at all to fight slow and thorough battles, that was the army's job. They were meant for quick and brutal attacks that would allow them to take and hold strategic positions while the army destroyed any enemy they were left with. Of course he trusted his Grand Admiral and General Covell was fine too, although he felt he should spend more time on practical application and not just watch Theoretical Warfare on a holo-projector. But it doesn't change the training and experience of him and his soldiers.

He thinks for a moment and looks at the map with the positions of all the units, then makes his decision.

"Assault Actuel to Ground Actuel." He spoke into the channel for the senior officers.

"General Covell, go ahead Major."

"Sir, LZ is adequately secured. Recommend deployment of AT-ST and third wave assault troops."

"Phase two has not yet been completed."

"Sir, I strongly recommend launching phase three."

"Hmm, very well, I ordered the start of the third wave. However, heavy AT-ATs cannot land until the second phase is completed."

"Roger that, Assault Actual out."

That should take care of the most pressing problems. The walkers will overrun the positions on the major roads and free up the stormtroopers for close house fighting by being very good. Soon they should have the advantage of movement again.

With the deployment of the third wave you will transform. In the third phase his battalion should advance with the Walkers across the main road, 2 and 3 will take the roads left and right and the 4 will secure to the rear. The problem was that they would make up battalions from companies that would not fight together so as not to waste time regrouping. At the same time he would hand over command to General Covell and place himself under the direct command of Colonel Norith.

He continued forward to see to the fight of his soldiers personally. Soon he met the first soldiers ducking behind speeders or piles of rubble. He considered ordering his bodyguards to spread out to provide a heavy target, but quickly discarded it as it went against standing orders to protect senior officers.

Using the ID sensors, he quickly found the captain. He ducked behind one of the many speeder craft.

"Captain, what's the situation?" he asked as he crouched down beside him.

"The mercenaries have split up. Three gunners, right side, first floor. Machine gun, left side, second floor. Snipers down the street. Barricades in three levels. They've formed up in small groups to avoid being hit by the ships."

He connects with the soldiers' cameras from further ahead to look at the positions. Whoever is in command of the mercenaries is good. Small groups prevent orbital strikes, with overlapping fields of fire they cover each other and with heavy weapons they prevent being overrun. They were getting nowhere here.

A bang startled him. He deactivated the camera feed and looked around. The captain was lying next to him, his helmet had a large crack at the top of his skull and blood was pouring out of it. Ayer took the helmet off him.

The head was not directly hit, but it had a large crack and blood was coming out.

"Medic CG-3441 takes care of the captain."

He looked around and saw the medic. Several soldiers were suppressing the MG position with continuous fire. The medic reached the speeder and squatted down next to the captain. Then he heard a loud noise.

He looked up and watched the Sentinel shuttles as they descended to the ground, then one of the two Gozanti freighters detached itself from the Chimaera's hangar. His visor automatically began to focus on the freighter and when he looked closely he saw the four AT-ST walkers hanging off the underside. Surrounded by shuttles, he went in for a landing approach.

Suddenly a multiple thunder and hiss was heard and overhead a volley of missiles, probably from a hidden launcher, flew. The path of the missiles pointed at the transporter, but it showed no panic and turned one of its sides to the weapons and the other turned so that the two heavy weapons were pointing at the missiles. The Star Destroyers did not dare to fire, the chance was too high that they would miss and the turbo lasers would hit the ground with their enormous energy.

A shuttle came to the rescue. It did not fly into the path, but close to the flight path of the missiles. The Gozanti fired, the shots keys after the missiles and one of the Six missiles exploded. The shuttle approached the missiles and one lost lock and flew wildly spinning into the sky. Probably due to jammers in the shuttle.

The transporter's weapons continued to fire and managed to shoot down a third. Then they were too close. One missile had a wrong angle and exploded at the shield, five and six broke through the shield. Two explosions showed on the right side of the transporter, then a third as the engine exploded. When the fire cleared the side was a mess of glowing, shredded metal and burning things. It took a massive battering. The Chimera opened fire and hit something a few streets towards the palace, probably the missile battery.

The Gozanti, however, came down very quickly, meanwhile the others also turned around and watched what was happening behind them. He already thought the freighter would hit the ground. But then the nose lifted and the maneuvering jets spat fire. The freighter stopped just above the floor of the marketplace and, completely unusual for protocol, it simply dropped its cargo. The front jets increased thrust and the nose continued to point towards the sky, then the remaining engine gave maximum thrust and trailing a long trail of smoke it flew towards space.

He took a deep breath and only now realize how tense he was. He loosens up. The walkers were dropped off, the freighter survived. Nothing to worry about. He beats his own mind to reason. While he was busy doing that, the Sentinels landed and released hundreds of new stormtroopers. When he could think straight again, he contacted the Walkers.

"AT-ST Squadron 1 7 5, report."

"AT-ST SR 30 6. Lieutenant Evoros. Report shaken, burnt and ready to fight, sir."

"Form line, assault across main street. We will follow."

"Roger that sir, clearing the way now."

The AT-ST began to stomp in a line across the road.

"Clear the road." He ordered the soldiers on the road. They all immediately began to obey the order and pressed themselves into house entrances or crouched behind Speeder.

Seconds later, the rhythmic stomping of walkers was heard and felt. Leaning from his cover, he watched as the meter-high walkers came towards him and the light of your headlights illuminated the path in front of them. Their armor was bruised, covered with cracks and blackened. The standard gray paint was burnt away in several places and the bare armor had begun to blister slightly because of the intense heat from the maneuvering jets. The light from the spotlights shows all the details that can be seen and without them having done anything, they radiate power and danger.

The banging of gunfire could be heard and sparks ricochet off the armor from bullets the size of grains of sand. At first the AT-ST did not react at all and let the fire pass without reply. Then a multiple plop could be heard and muzzle flares burst from the grenade launchers on the side of the head. A howl was heard and then the impact. Ahead of the Walkers across the width of the road was the glow of explosions and luminous splinters. The Walkers marched on and the entire arsenal of weapons from blaster cannons, rotary blasters and rocket launchers scattered death and destruction.

The defenders of the front barricades were torn apart by the energy of the shells and the barricades they were hiding behind. Huge, tall and powerful, they stomp past them and stomp on the barricade. With a high-pitched howl, the Rotary Blasters open fire and the nearest defenders are cut down. In the darkness it looked as if lines of red light connected the walkers to the defenders and as the heads swiveled the beam of gunfire traveled left and right. The few who can still fight duck in fear, only to be vaporized with the barricades as the explosive shots from the blaster cannons hit the rubble pile.

The machine gun begins to fire out the window. Sparks ricochet off the shots. One of the walkers fired a missile, nuking the facade and the gunner. Reinforcements from the newly landed shuttles reached them and pulled them along. Now a platoon of walkers and a full battalion of stormtroopers are marching down the main street, no one can stop this force.