Commander Irons steadied himself as the LAATs began to disembark from the Acclamator, the craft jostling the armored soldiers within, the minute clacks of plastoid armor pieces brushing against one another disturbed whatever calm he had been trying to achieve. He turned to look at the men that stood around him, the glaringly white armor plates reminding him of the fact that they were still inexperienced.
He would personally lead the push to ensure the landing zone was under Republic control. Four LAATs would follow him down to the planet surface as the Acclamators remained in orbit. Major Asher would remain on the lead Acclamator to ensure that overall operations would proceed without issue. He missed his company. When Asher was around, he could rest knowing that a brother he trusted was watching his back. Not that he didn't trust the men under his command, but he preferred his batchmate to any other. He looked around, the T-shaped visors of his men gave him nothing in terms of emotions, but he didn't need to see their faces to read them. The minute twitches of nervous energy, the shifting of weight from one foot to another, the subtle checking of their weapons despite being thoroughly checked before they disembarked, the trigger fingers clenching and unclenching. They were as disquieted as he was, as only new soldiers could be when facing the unknown.
A nervous huff to his left drew his attention. It was a lieutenant, the blue markers of his armor setting him apart from the others, as the yellow on his own armor marked him out from the rest of the officers. He was anxious, more so than the rank and file that surrounded him.
"What's your name, lieutenant?"
His question startled the young officer, if the subtle jump was anything to go by, but the lieutenant quickly gathered himself into a presentable front.
"CL- 4295, Blix, sir," he reported.
"Blix, short, but has impact."
The lieutenant subtly beamed at the praise, glad to be noticed in a fair light by his CO.
"I will not lie to you, we are in a combat zone, and we are all facing danger at all times. Trust in your training, your skills, and your vode , and you will come out the other side intact."
The lieutenant's mood dimmed a bit, but a steely resolve began to build within him, emboldened by his CO's candor and sound advice. He would not fail him or the men under his command. He would do his duty and then some. For the Republic.
"Yes sir, I won't let you down!"
"I know you won't," Commander Irons said to the officer, before raising his voice to the other troopers. "Stay sharp, watch each others' backs, and we'll turn those droids into scrap metal!"
" Oya! "
The cacophony of voices that greeted his ears filled him with pride.
"Commander, we're about to make planetfall. No anti-air flak to speak of. ETA 60 seconds," the pilot reported.
"Copy that," he acknowledged. "Everyone, ready up, we're landing in 60!"
The LAAT filled with the sounds of blasters being readied and last minute equipment checks. The cabin dimmed, a red light being the only form of illumination. The shadows in the cabin lengthened, enhancing the sharp angles of their armor and the menacing visage their visors created. Moments before, they were nervous, almost unsure, akin to cadets going to the range and being handed a blaster for the first time. Now, they were steadfast, resolve strengthening and their will turning to iron, unbreaking, unyielding. Now, they were the war machines they all knew they were, weapons created to fight a near limitless foe, and they were ready.
"Red light, standby."
The silence was deafening, nobody dared to break it. Suddenly the transport rocked back and forth, finally touching ground. The light flicked from red to green, and the side doors swung open.
"Green light! Go go go!"
Everyone rushed out, forming a semi-circle around the transport, weapons drawn, kneeling down. Commander Irons had his carbine in hand, aiming at the hills to their south, waiting for the hail of red blaster bolts to streak their way. His eyes glanced to his left and to his right, looking for any tell tale signs of enemy contact. All he saw were the white armored figures of his men.
"All units, status report."
A beat of silence.
"No hostiles in the area sir!"
"Nothing here sir!"
"Area is free of hostile forces sir!"
A silent sigh of relief left him, and he ordered the men to set up a defensive perimeter. The LAATs lifted off soon after, returning to the Acclamator. He activated his holo-projector, bringing up Major Asher.
"Major, the landing zone is secure, begin Acclamator landing sequence."
"Yes commander. Beginning landing sequence. See you down there vod ."
He nodded in affirmation and the transmission cut. He turned to watch the Acclamator slowly descend from orbit, the landing gear extending and touching the ground, and the moment the massive landing ramp lowered. He watched as the battalions of troopers, accompanied by walkers exited the troop transport, the sight of so many soldiers gave him confidence.
"Commander, a word!"
He turned to the voice in question. It was his General, walking towards him with two troopers in tow. He nearly snapped to attention, genetic instinct and years of training compelling him to stand at attention and salute his superior, but the condition of a combat zone negated such procedures. It would paint a target on his general, if his different appearance didn't make it obvious, and he would be remiss in his duty to protect his General.
"Yes General?"
"Our aerial assets have detected no incoming enemy forces. Odd, don't you think?"
It was odd, when looking at it from an invader's point of view. When defending, it is usually best to dislodge the invading force from their beach head before they can land whatever reinforcements they had, but in this instance, the landing was unmolested, and operations look to continue moving along smoothly. Perhaps the higher echelons of Separatist command are negligent of the disadvantage that allowing invaders to create a beachhead is. The thought of them not having the manpower and assets to repel an invasion such as this was instantly dismissed. The droid army is fearsome due to its vast, innumerable hosts of war machines, the unending tide of metal that crushes all who oppose them with sheer numbers alone.
It could be that the Separatists are so confident in their fortifications that they believe they are enough to hold back the Republic, or that the sheer numbers of droids under their command will be able to turn the tide of whatever battle they find themselves in. Whatever the reason, they were able to land the vanguard without issue, and it looks to be the same result for the rest of the Legion. He would not waste such an advantage, and he would make them pay for giving them such a boon.
"Yes, General. It is somewhat odd, but it is ultimately beneficial for our efforts. We will have the pre-fabricated base up and running within three hours, sir. The walkers will join those at the defensive perimeter until this is done, and our artillery cannons will be planetside when the second Acclamator lands," he reports.
The General nods at this, liking what he is hearing.
"General, if I may," he began. When the jetii nodded, he continued. "I suggest that the Acclamators not currently in use orbit near our position. We could use their turbolasers in precise orbital strikes against whatever force the Seppies send against us."
A look of thought graced the General's features, eyebrows furrowed. A second passed.
"While it would provide us with a safe means of advancing, it would leave our operations in space vulnerable to enemy counter attack. They will remain in orbit and focus on repelling any Separatist forces that enter the system. We will have to do without their turbolasers, but for the time being, we can still use their fighters to provide us aerial superiority and long range reconnaissance, as well as close air support should we need it," he decided.
Ok, not what Commander Irons was hoping for, but better than him having them cease all planetary operations altogether. Fine, he could work with that.
"Yes General."
"I'll contact the Admiral and appraise him of the situation," the General stated, leaving with the two troopers in tow, headed towards the newly constructed holo-table.
"Commander!"
He turned towards the voice, and he couldn't help the smile forming. Major Asher was walking towards him, arm waving. The commander and major clasped each other's forearms in greeting, both glad to see the other.
"I was wondering when you would be planetside, thought you'd get comfortable being on the bridge."
A sound of mock disgust left Asher. "Me, stuck in a stuffy bridge, staring at the boring stars while you get all the fun? Never."
The two began walking towards the defensive perimeter, stopping next to an AT-TE, Asher leaning against one of the legs, arms crossed.
"Any word on ground operations yet from the General?"
"No, he's talking to the Admiral now, relaying orders and the like."
A intrigued tilt of the helmet urged him to continue.
"I suggested that we use the Acclamators' turbolasers in precise orbital bombardment of any attacking force, and that they should remain near our position," he began.
"A sound tactic, however I sense that the General didn't agree?" Asher asked.
"The General thought it best to leave them in high orbit incase of Seppie reinforcements. However, we will still be receiving air support from the fighters in the meantime," he finished.
"Hmmm. Your plan was solid. It would give us an overwhelming advantage when we fight the clankers, and would minimize the casualties we'll receive overall," Asher began. "But, I do see the logic in the General's plan. We would be vulnerable to Seppie reinforcements if they do come, plus we are still receiving air cover," he finished.
"But what do you think of it?"
What did he think? What kind of question is that? It didn't make sense, but he got the feeling Asher was trying to learn something from him, looking for something specific based on his response. He didn't know what, but he decided to be honest.
"I feel as if the General is not utilizing all the assets at his disposal to the fullest. He deems the potential of orbital superiority as an avenue to our defeat, and places what could be turning points in the campaign to the side, out of the way when they could be used to minimize out casualties and ensure our victory. It is an error on his part, but I will follow his lead."
Asher nods at this, seeming to find what he was looking for.
"Glad to see 17's training hasn't been snuffed out by the Kaminii fish heads. The Republic needs free thinkers," he says cryptically.
A beep from his wrist comm caught his attention.
"Irons here," he answered.
"Commander, we're about to begin our briefing on our next move."
"Copy that, General. I'm on my way. Irons out."
He turned towards Asher, a somewhat eager stance conveying his excitement. Asher shared his feelings, and the two quickly made their way to the holo-table, finding the General conversing with two captains. He turned towards the pair as they approached, and a small smile greeted the commander.
"Good, everyone is here," he started, turning towards the holo-table and pressing a few buttons, the table projecting a hologram of a city and the land surrounding it. "Our first priority is to cut off supplies to the Separatists. The nearby city of Aktethus is home to a massive supply depot. If it's taken out, we estimate that the Separatists will run out of munitions in five months at the earliest, at most a year if they limit their activity to the cities."
Irons subtly nodded in approval, liking what he was hearing. Less ammunition means fewer casualties, and if they play their cards right, they could walk into the planetary capital without bloodshed and force a surrender, possibly capturing the Seppie leadership in the process if they hadn't already fled before then.
"Our strategy, as Major Asher suggested earlier, is to take out the generator powering the city's defenses and strike at key points along the fortifications, breaking through their defensive lines and carving our way to the supply depot. Once there, we will plant detonite charges in key areas to maximize damage and blow it sky high."
Irons shifted slightly, noticing a problem.
"General, if I may," he asked, and when the Jedi nodded in assent, he continued. "If we were to assault the power generators, we will have the full force of the Separatist city garrison to deal with, not to mention the possible forces placed to guard such a strategically important asset. We need to divert their attention, draw them away from the city so that only the forces guarding the generators remain. Perhaps we launch a false offensive on the city? It would certainly get their attention if nothing else."
Asher's stance, neutral to all but him, was full of curiosity and approval.
The Jedi was unreadable, the forced serenity masking his emotions, both positive and negative, which slightly unnerved Irons. He had a knack for reading people, their slight shifts in stance, the minute tensing and releasing of facial muscles in either approval, dismissal, or curiosity. But the Jetii, he was different, and that threw him off. He seemed to be more machine than man at times, but those were few and far in between.
"A good plan, Commander. Do you have anyone in mind to lead the distraction?"
"I volunteer myself, sir."
"That is unwise. A figure of such importance like yourself being taken out this early could doom the campaign. Perhaps Major Asher? From reading the legion's record, he is an exemplary officer. Surely he could lead the distraction."
A flicker of discomfort, a glance towards his batchmate, who, as before, remained aloof to all but him, was intrigued and excited by the possibility of commanding such an important operation. But doubt gnawed at him like a starving canid upon the bones of an old kill. They were all still inexperienced, and a moment's pause, a distraction, could cost them hundreds of troopers and the campaign would be set back by months, if not an entire year if they needed new soldiers to replace the massive losses. It had to be him to make that mistake. He couldn't put that weight on Asher's shoulders this early in the war.
"While the Major is an exemplary officer, sir, the operation would have more success if I were to lead this part of it. I would like Asher to accompany me, to ensure that operations can be carried out with maximum efficiency."
A subtle apology to his brother, if nothing else. He knew, judging by the signs of disappointment, that Asher would be upset. He hoped that this was an acceptable recompense.
A hum of thought came from the Jedi, interrupting the commander's thoughts.
"Alright, but withdraw when opposition becomes too much. No heroics, no risky strategies. Draw them out as much as possible. I will lead the push to take out the generators. I will contact you when they are down. Do not fully commit to the offensive until then. We will swing around and attack the force from the rear, and we will crush them between us."
A chorus of 'Yes sir!' met the General, and with that he dismissed them to carry out their orders.
An entire company set off with the Jedi to take out the generators, leaving Irons with little over nine thousand troopers to launch the false offensive. He and Asher coordinated the massive amount of men, war machines and munitions. All forty eight AT-TEs were filled to capacity with troopers, leaving the rest to walk on foot, the walkers keeping pace with the legion. Asher and Irons rode in an AT-TE modified into a pseudo command center, keeping track of everyone's progress via a holographic map, Irons tracking the small red blip that was his General as it slowly made its way closer to the power generators outside the city walls. His gaze flicked to his chosen battleground. A hilly expanse, interspaced with flat stretches of ground. He already had a plan in mind.
"Asher, I'm placing you in charge of the BARC speeder squadrons."
A inquisitive tilt of the helmet.
Irons gestured to the battlefield.
"The main body of the legion will try to draw them past this hill to the left," he explained, pointing to a particularly large hill on the map a few hundred meters to the left of a flat stretch. "Once the seppies are in position and locked into place, I'll give the signal, and the BARC squadrons will move into the droid's left flank, taking out targets of opportunity with thermal detonators, preferably tanks or other heavy vehicles, but I'll leave that up to you. Once you've exhausted your detonator supply, retreat behind the hill and make your way back to our lines. We'll hold out until the General comes up from the rear and we'll smash them between our two forces."
"What makes you think they'll take the bait? This entire operation hinges on the assumption that the seppies will believe that this is the real deal, and send out their forces to deal with such."
"It should be of no surprise to anyone, you especially, that they know of our landing, of our strength and the importance of what we are attacking. At this early stage in the war, any gains must be won with speed and ferocity, with few, if any casualties. They will more than likely already have thought of how we might take control of the planet while using our resources as efficiently as possible. This city is a key target, vital to their operations on the planet, and will have guarded it accordingly. Thus, any attack, especially of this magnitude, will be regarded as a full scale offensive, and they will have to bear their full strength, otherwise they risk losing an important asset and their chances of driving us off planet with minimal effort. There is no other option for them in this. Either they attack us with their full strength, or lose such a vital asset that they may as well surrender now," Irons reasoned.
A thoughtful hum, and an appreciative nod.
"Good thinking, but your thought process is lacking one variable that is key."
"What is that?"
"Stupidity."
Irons tilted his helmet slightly, intrigued by what Asher has to say.
"The enemy isn't immune to outright stupid decisions and actions. They are flawed, as you and I are, and can damn themselves and those around them with ignorance, arrogance, and a plethora of other factors. It is good to assume that the enemy is always going to go for the throat, but keep the thought that they may be incapable of making any intelligent decision in the back of your mind."
He hadn't thought of that. It seemed illogical for an enemy to make the wrong choice when the right answers are so glaringly obvious. However, their landing had been unmolested, and the Separatists could have easily driven them back into the void with an overwhelming counterattack, but they didn't. Asher may have a point, but he wouldn't risk the lives of brothers under his command on such an assumption. Besides, the enemy had the machine intelligence of thousands of combat AI behind them. How could they make such mistakes?
"Thank you for the advice, vod. I'll keep that in mind."
A nod of thanks, and they both turned their attention back to the holographic map.