The Forty-Second was already in business.
Major (Brevet Colonel) Leo Chere and his new unit of troops had been training for a grand total of two weeks when their first call-up had been placed. Now they were on a new front, cleaning out some ambitious pirate types.
"Where in the Maw are those bloody ARCs!" Chere exploded. He pulled a new power clip for his antique carbine from his equally antique utility belt. He popped the grip open and slapped the clip home. "I kept hearing about how badass they were in the Wars, and now I send twenty—twenty!--in to grab the head-man, and they can't even signal back!"
He sighted along the carbine's scope and fired. Azure bolts flashed, taking a Devaronian full in the chest. The horned alien screamed and fell twitching, clutching at his charred torso. "If this is any example of what those ARCs are facing, I'm gonna personally drag 'em to Tatooine, personally park 'em in front of a Sarlacc, and personally toss 'em in!"
"Patience, sir! They haven't let anyone down yet," replied Commander Raines. He yanked a grenade from his scarlet and gold-stained armor. He held it, poised for a brief moment, then tossed it into the screaming mob of fringers. The two troopers ducked back a white-flared explosion rocked through the hall.
Rains had been a highest ranking normal clone trooper left from a previously unknown stasis vault in a secondary facility thought lost on Kamino. When Chere had gone through the 'unit's' rather chaotic roster, he immediately made the Jango Fett clone his executive officer. Now the clone and the ex-stormtrooper were leading a collection of troops through the pirates' planetary stronghold after a New Republic task force smashed their fleet. 'Collection' had been the best word to describe the unit; a few companies of normal clones, a double handful of ARCs, and Chere's complement of former stormtroopers. Their was also a group of New Rep commandos on-planet, along with a battalion of regulars, but it was the Forty-Second—by their own request—that had taken the task of cracking open the base by storm.
A squad of troopers charged in the shocked and wounded mob, sporting the instantly traditional silver pauldrons that Chere has taken as the legion's new trademark. Their carbines and rifles fired as one weapon in a massive cascade of energy, slashing through the pirate's disorganized ranks.
"Third Company, Move out!" Chere bellowed. "Second, take that T-junction to the right and see if you can bottleneck the scum."
The squad moved aside for their comrades. A wave of white plastoid surged through the darkened hall, trampling the fallen pirates. A lone Bothan limped toward Chere, his arms raised in surrender. The colonel simply pointed. A green-clad Sergeant and a regular trooper moved in to take custody. Chere would have gladly shot the furry punk, but he had very specific orders on surrendering opponents.
"Be grateful we're not Imps any more," the trooper admonished the pirate.
"Those of us that were in the first place," Raines added under his breath.
Chere gestured to his deputy dulling the relative lull. "You go ahead and take First and Third up to the generator chamber. I'm taking Fourth up to see what those bloody ARCs are up to." The clone Commander nodded. He voiced orders through his helmet-link, gathered up his rifle, and marched up, two red-clad Captains moving in his wake. They moved in perfect tandem; big surprise, they were clones.
Leo quickly made a link-order of his own. "Flick, get your butt up here to keep an eye on the Second."
"Acknowledged, Colonel!" the reply snapped back. Leo smiled in his helmet. The big grump of a stormtrooper had developed quite an ego among the New Rep troops, but two weeks with the Randomizer and another four with clones had made him 'a perfect soldier' again. The Colonel had already made him a Captain and was planning to raise him further after this shake-out battle was over. A few companies did not a Legion make.
Back to the reforging. He charged in with an enthusiasm he had forgotten.
His personal squad moved in behind him. They moved quickly and furtively through the smoke-filled hall chambers. After a few hundred yards, they had to activate personal light-sources.
The Fourth's commander, Captain Vikks, moved to his colonel's side. A former ARC himself, he had quickly acknowledged that their silence was unusual at best. He flicked his antenna up—he had kept his old armor, a superior product to even the modern trooper gear. "Sir, they should have taken the enemy leader by now. One ARC could have done the job," he stated flatly. "That sort of mission is what we were created for."
Chere nodded, the effect looking decidedly dangerous in the blank, malicious-looking stormtrooper gear. He looked over the ensuing combat. Energy lanced in a hundred directions. Grenades and other explosives ripped through trooper and pirate alike, making the walls and floor into a hellish mural of gore.
"I know," the new colonel stated.
"I was created for war, too."
Leo and the Fourth quickly moved through the darkened halls into what the maps claimed was the command center, fighting like hellions the whole way. The pirates did what they could, swarming into the company's way, but packs of blaster bravoes were no match for disciplined soldiers, even ones fresh from stasis like the Forty-Second. The pirates charged, yelling and gobbling curses in a myriad of languages—and broke, screaming in those same languages.
The colonel finally saw a splash of white in the morass of battle ahead. "Vikks, see if you can clear out some around that point over there," he ordered, gesturing. Five troopers quickly moved into position and began systematically firing, while the rest of their squad moved in to cover.
The swarming fringers quickly vacated the small area around Leo's discovery—an ARC trooper, propped up against the metal wall. Half of his torso armor was gone, and what was left was blackened and scorched. The dead soldier still clutched his rifle, however; only yielding his life in the end. The colonel nodded solemnly in tribute.
The quiet half-lull was broken. "Those bastards took out an ARC! Get 'em!" Chere screamed, managing to overload his speaker for a second.
New to this war, or not, the Forty-Second was in business.