Hey guys it's able, I think a common theme I find is I base my writings off of historic battles. Mimban is definitely WWI in my mind, but certain aspects of the following will be the Siege of Jadotville and the battle of Khe Sanh in the Tet offensive. Just some extra reading if ya'll are interested :)
Enjoy, thanks for reading.
Asher and Jace caught up to Harper's squad quickly enough. The combined force of the 501st, 224th and 1st MSB had taken the forward trenches and had cleaned out the line from the left and right.
The 501st and the 224th had both moved onto the droid CP and motorpool to kill their command and vehicles. That left the artillery emplacements to them.
His men had advanced brutally, this sector theirs for the taking. Dice and Walker were further down the line having cleared sections of trenches already. By his bidding, they'd awaited the advance to the artillery emplacements.
"Welcome back sir," Harper said, "Still plenty of fun left for you."
"Give me a sitrep." Asher droned, checking the power pack on his DC-15A.
"Tinnies fell back to their rear trenches, not as fortified as the last ones. Got a heavy gun emplacement just up ahead, behind that? Their arty."
Asher hummed, and peered at the exit of the trench at a squat structure, the droid in the viewport angling a heavy repeating blaster in a slow left to right scan.
"Hammer and Sword main this is Archangel-five, how me? Over."
"Archangel-five this is Hammer-main read you Lima-Charlie over."
"Archangel-five, Sword-main, I read you same, over."
"Archangel-five to both Hammer and Sword, arty site in view, you in position to engage? Over."
"Roger Archangel, my boys are ready, over." Walker reported.
"Same here Archangel, over." Dice said.
"Roger that, when you hear an explosion coming from our pos' pop smoke and advance your men, ordnance on the ammo dump over." (Pos': position)
Both men gave their acknowledgments and Asher ended the comm.
He turned to Harper.
"You get that shot?" He asked.
The Clone sniper unslung his rifle and peered at the bunker.
"Oh yeah, easily." He boasted.
"Take out the gunner, then we pop smoke and advance. Who's your man on the rocket?" Asher asked.
"Drake!" Harper called.
The Clone with the rocket ambled up, perched on his shoulder was the rocket launcher, a pack of spare rockets slung onto his back.
"Sir!" Drake barked, taking a knee.
"Bring it in." Asher commanded, his men kneeling around him.
"Alright here's the plan, Harper is gonna waste the tinnie on the big gun, get Drake here some breathing room to demolish that bunker. Once it's gone we pop smoke to cover our advance."
Asher withdrew his knife, drawing a square into the dirt for the bunker. He drew a massive X over it and then an arrow that swung right all the way around it.
"I want the men with scanning darts firing fifty meters out, once we get the pulse and the smoke is up, you pick your targets. Then we go for the arty."
He drew a larger square just behind the bunker.
"I don't care if we take the guns or blow 'em. Grenadiers, you and Drake's sole purpose in life is to get the boom onto their ordnance, send that ammo dump sky high."
"Yes sir." Rang out amongst the clones.
Asher's visor took in the squad.
He missed them, Mickey, Bedlam and Cutter. As of an hour ago they were all on board the Valkyrie in critical care.
The civilian doctors had already said Cutter was lucky to even have a pulse. But they were hopeful.
The Clone Medic swallowed his sorrow and nodded, stomping the drawings away.
"Let's take this line." He said firmly.
Harper moved immediately, slinging his carbine and bringing up his Valken-38X. The Grenadiers unloaded the HE from their launchers, dropping the mag and unchambering the round. They loaded up a new mag, marked with grey paint and pumped the action.
Smoke ready.
Harper got onto his belly, taking aim at the gunner.
It would be a quick action, shock and awe, all to get precious seconds for Drake.
"Got the shot?" Asher asked.
"Oh yes sir." Harper murmured.
"Take it."
The sniper steadied his breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling like he did the night before.
"Grass grows… birds fly… waves pound the sand…" Harper whispered.
He exhaled and squeezed the trigger.
"And headshots are beautiful." He smirked behind his helmet.
"Drake!" Asher called.
The rocket jockey took a knee beyond the trench entrance and sent the rocket screaming right into the turret slit.
Fire erupted from inside the bunker before it blew sky high from the ammunition within.
"Smoke up!" Asher yelled, tossing one.
The rest of his men did the same, tossing canisters of white smoke while grenadiers heralded their advance with a burst of their own.
Asher moved up, blaster at the high ready.
"Get the darts sent out." He ordered on their channel.
The scanning darts were sent out with a sharp pop, their HUD's highlighting the droids still reeling from the explosion of the bunker.
Unaware and ignorant the droids were highlighted in red.
"Engaging!" Asher called blasting the first droid he saw.
Blue laser fire sprung out into the oblivious droids who screeched and fled. They didn't bring their weapons back up, and Asher was grateful for it.
He owed them a debt of blood, payback for his men. If Asher found the sniper that had shot Cutter he'd keep it's head and give it to his brother as a "Get well soon!" gift.
The artillery emplacements were a slew of heavy guns. Piles of spent shells lay in a heap behind them.
Asher advanced quickly, emerging from the smoke like a vengeful spirit. B-1 battle droids finally getting their programming in order to return fire but he was already at the high ready with his rifle.
His HUD lit up with friendlies to his far right, Hammer and Sword Company's FFS (Friend or Foe sensors) showing up in a comforting green.
Bursts of blue laser downed one, two, three and more with every bolt he sent. The grenadiers joining him, having reloaded high explosive rounds and sending them.
The rounds whistled and came down onto palettes of ordnance. The grenades bursting the shells wide open into a billowing tower of fire. The explosions spread, the artillery pieces the droids had used joining the symphony of destruction.
"Mop it up! Stack them high!" Asher whooped.
Z-6 rotary cannons let loose waves of heavy fire, the droids reduced to scrap in seconds.
The clones whooped and hollered as the smoke settled, and Asher performed a cooling flush on his weapon.
Before long the quiet set in, smoldering metal and the stink of burnt ozone settling in.
"Get me a LACE report." Asher barked and the Sergeants moved to follow.
The LACE report was an easy check of Liquid as in water, Ammo, any Casualties and Equipment.
Asher moved to check Jace, finding no wounds, a full canteen, more than enough power packs and his aid bag with his macros.
"Green on all sir, no casualties." Harper reported.
Dice and Walker came up, hefting their carbines, both he could tell by the swagger in their step that they were very satisfied with their victory.
"Good day boys?" Asher asked.
"Oh hell yes sir, very good day." Dice grinned behind his helmet.
Asher's comm chirped and he raised his forearm.
"Archangel-five this is Mudjumper-five, how me over?" Hoyt's voice blared with static.
"Roger Mudjumper, I read you Lima-Charlie."
"Roger vod, how are your men? The one's that got evac'd over."
"Cutter and Bedlam are critical, Mickey was messed up but not too bad, over." Asher grit.
The line was silent for only a moment.
"My condolences brother, over."
Asher frowned, such hollow words angered him. His brothers were soaking in bacta and that's all he could offer?
"Roger that Mudjumper, over." He grit.
He never thought a radio comm could be awkward.
"Ping me your location, over." Hoyt ordered.
Asher did, and it took the 224th commander a moment to respond.
"Archangel-five, be advised, you are three hundred meters beyond our line, over."
Three hundred meters? They'd advanced that far?
"Mudjumper-five, acknowledged, over."
The comm beeped again and Asher sorely wished it would stop.
"Archangel-five, new mission coming down, six klicks north there is a Mimbanese village situated at the following coordinates. Unknown presence at this time, I want you to take it and hold it for the rest of the force, over."
"Roger Mudjumper, acknowledged, over."
"Mudjumper-five out."
The comm finally died and Asher opened his private channel with Dice, Walker and Jace.
"New orders came down, there's a village nearby we're taking. Unknown hostiles at this time."
A ping of affirmation came from all three and he could hear the bark of orders echoing across the ruined artillery emplacements.
Asher held up a wedge hand sign and lead the way, relaying it to every other trooper's HUD.
Worse than Arantara, much much worse.
Reha Sul downed another caffeine pill while her master all but chugged a cup of caff. The two Jedi sat on an abandoned litter just outside the casualty pickup site, another gunship full of wounded lifting off and gone.
Another dozen or so in critical condition on their way to treatment. A batch of amputees on Reha's end, another squad cut down by droid fire for her master.
The two Jedi had taken a brief respite where they could, and this is the first time they'd seen each other for hours.
Reha chased the caffeine pill with water and took a bite out of a ration bar. The tasteless flakes surrounded by whatever the Republic rations had said was chocolate.
"I prefer the berry one myself." Her master jested, having finished two of the bars.
Reha took a gulp of water.
"It's like eating sand." She spat, "The ration cubes taste like nothing too…"
The twenty-four hour ration packs were simple, some energy bars, electrolyte powder, ration cubes. The instant coffee was a precious item in times like this, some of the men had taken to just pouring it into their mouths and washing it down.
"I'm tempted to order us some canned foods, I'm worried about the men's diet on this… meager nutrition." Master Nema said disdainfully, glancing at the two ration packs between them.
"A little variety would boost their spirits for sure." Reha smiled, "But the way they tear into them…"
"The men are in good enough spirits, every successful evacuation they perform brings them up." The Halaisi Jedi said, "Perhaps some better food would bring them up even further."
Reha couldn't help but glance at the mortuary tent, that no clone spoke of. It felt like an obscene thing, her men's spirits were up yes, until they had to wrap a brother in a body bag and carry him there. How could morale stay high when that tent lingered nearby?
When Cutter had almost been brought there.
"You treated Cutter correct?" Her master asked suddenly as if reading her thoughts.
Reha blinked away her anxiousness, she'd been dreading speaking to her master of what happened.
"Yes master… I-I did…" She whispered.
"From what I hear, he's going to make it because of you, Mickey and Bedlam were not that much better. But my men did well on them."
Reha's hand shook around her canteen as she stowed it and she sighed ruefully.
"Master I've failed you." She whispered.
Master Nema tilted her head in confusion at her Padawan.
"And how have you done that young one?"
"Cutter died, flatlined, pure asystole and I didn't know what to do. The answer was simple, Captain Asher started CPR without even hesitating while I just stood there…"
Reha pulled her thighs to her chest and all but buried her face into them.
"If he hadn't done that, Cutter would've died and it would've been my fault." Reha choked back a sob.
Asher's words had been comforting yes, but admitting this to her master? That was something else entirely. It felt impossible, a massive weight on her, pressing her down into the mud around them. Her heart beat fast against her chest, the disappointment of her master hurting more than the droid's fist against her knee.
She couldn't even look at her master, she wanted to hide, to be as small as possible.
To disappear.
"And you believe you failed me?" Master Nema asked gently, sensing her ward's distress.
"Yes master…"
"My dear Padawan, in no way have you failed me."
Reha glanced at her master, the Jedi Doctor rested a hand on her shoulder with the same kind smile she always had.
"You cannot expect to know everything exactly when you need it. We train, train and train to build that muscle memory. Do you think I remember everything I have ever learned?"
Reha softly shook her head.
"Exactly, that is why we are a team, a unit. If we all thought the same, operated the same, we would all fail. You succeeded because you had your team, they spot what you miss and you do the same for them."
Rig Nema gave Reha a wide smile.
"I have never been more proud of you." Her master gushed, "There are men alive because of your efforts."
Reha cried and her master pulled her into a warm embrace.
Outgoing artillery thundered nearby, and came crashing down far far away.
"We are healers my dear Padawan, this violence does not suit us I think." Master Nema sighed as they both heard the dull explosions.
"No master…" Reha whispered, she could see the blood that stained the plasteel of her gauntlets.
No matter how many times she washed them, it always got back on.
They ended their embrace and Master Nema sipped at her canteen.
"Ma'am we have more incoming." Nero said as he leaned out of the tent.
His exhaustion was palpable, they'd been at it for hours, both Jedi wondered when they'd be able to sleep, and when their men would be able to do the same.
The caffeine pill was kicking in, and Reha was grateful for it.
"I will see you soon my Padawan, be well." Her master gave another smile before retreating into her aid station.
Reha felt warmth surge through her and moved to do the same.
As Asher's macros zoomed onto the village and he frowned.
Wasn't much of a village at all.
On a low mesa, a few squat mud brick buildings sat solemnly. The Mimbanese lived underground mostly from what the briefings had told him, but lived in these houses when the mining operations rolled in. They had been fighting the Separatists as guerrillas for some time now. It was clear the village had been used as such, sand bags sat at key points and it was clear there had been a fight here at some point.
Craters lined all along the village but the buildings had stayed standing, the roof had been caved in on one house but that seemed to be it. It was an easily defendable position, a single road lead up the slope to the village.
The whole place seemed deserted.
But just because it was deserted didn't mean it was safe. It could've been booby trapped, tinnies could be waiting inside the houses, it could be anything.
The heavy slog and humid weather of a Mimban winter overcast them for much of their traverse, but finally let up just enough.
They'd moved beyond the droid line but the environment hadn't quite changed save sparse patches of rancid vegetation in the bogs. The mud and stagnant water lay everywhere, but had finally given way to rocky outcroppings and formations.
"I don't like this." Jace said, peering through his own macros.
"I'm not fond of it either but we have our orders." Asher sighed.
He gave it one more scan, finding nothing he turned to Harper.
"Get me some scanning darts on that big structure there." He said, gesturing to a larger hovel.
Dice gestured for one of the Clones who raised his dart launcher, sending a bolt straight at the building.
The pulse pinged to their HUDs and showed no occupants.
"I'm gonna advance on this, just me, when I give the all clear you all follow."
"Yes sir." His Lieutenants droned.
Jace's visor lingered on Asher for a moment longer than the others and the Captain set a steadying hand on his brother, giving it a firm shake.
Jace just nodded.
Asher moved from the berm they'd taken cover behind, weapon at the ready as he advanced to the village.
It was quiet, too quiet, even with the distant fighting the whole place seemed… ominous.
But if a sniper was going to take the shot, they would've taken it by now.
Asher didn't relax but he raised a hand and his boys jogged up behind him.
He executed the hand gesture to follow in, his men seamlessly falling into pulling a solid three-sixty security.
As the clones moved into the village, they saw scorch marks on the walls, doors left wide open, and weapon emplacements abandoned.
"Not a soul here." Jace said, trigger finger twitching against the trigger guard.
"Archangel-five to Mudjumper-five over."
"Roger Archangel, send it, over." Hoyt replied after a moment.
"Mudjumper-five, First Med battalion have secured village site, zero resistance over."
A few moments passed, he could hear blaster fire over the comm.
"Roger Archangel, hold position and await further orders, Mudjumper-five out."
Asher held his arms up in exasperation before they fell down to his side.
What were he and his men supposed to do here? Twiddle their thumbs?
"Alright boys, they said defend this village, fortify it. I want gun emplacements up and I want your stovepipe boys to set up." he barked.
A string of acknowledgements rang through and Asher plopped down onto a fallen crate, removing his helmet with a sigh. His men hefted the mortars and set them in each in one of the shell craters in the village center.
The small village had moisture vaporators that pulled the air's humidity for water. Cord was immediately on one, if they were here for the long haul they'd need the water.
He withdrew a ration pack which caused Jace to clap him on the shoulder.
"Why eat that shab when there might be civvie food here?" He chuckled.
Asher smirked and stowed the pack, following his brother inside.
The furnishings were scattered about the room, a stairwell lead to the second floor while a longer one lead downward likely into the mesa itself. Where had the villagers gone though? He eyed holos of a Mimbanese family on the wall, that wasn't something someone left behind with no hesitation.
"Odd..." Asher muttered.
Jace moved for the kitchen and whooped.
"Looks like the locals were getting ready for winter! We got canned soup… canned meat… canned, well everything really." Jace gushed.
"Toss me one." Asher smiled as Jace complied.
Asher was ready to eat the stew cold until Jace tried the burner on the stovetop.
When it lit up in a jet of blue flame Asher commed his lieutenants.
"Get the perimeter set and start rotating your boys for chow, we've got canned food in one house. Eat whatever you find, heat it up if you want."
"You got it sir." Dice commed.
"With pleasure sir." Walker replied.
Jace tore the flimsy label off his and Asher's cans and set them onto the stove. Before long the smell of real food serenaded the clones to better days.
"Gods I'm hungry." Jace sighed.
"Same, haven't eaten since… breakfast yesterday." Asher said with a tinge of disappointment.
If they were to hold this village, hard contact was up in the air. The droids were being pushed back, maybe he and his men could finally get some rest? Asher ran a hand over his greasy, unwashed hair, his stubble had begun to itch in the quiet afterglow of their engagement. All he wanted now was to eat, splash his face with some water and get a few winks of sleep.
As the cans heated up, Asher was handed one, the steaming broth a godsend to his senses. His hands warmed through his gloves and he inhaled the scent deeply.
Dice walked in, his shoulders sagged, even with his helmet on Asher could tell something was amiss. He took off his helmet and withdrew his pack of cigarras, never ceasing to stare into nothing.
He lit the tobacco and took a drag with a shaking hand before finally speaking.
"Sir… there's something you should come see…" Dice said, his eyes wide and tinged with sadness before turning without an explanation.
Asher glanced to Jace who shrugged, shut off the stove and following Asher.
Both clones followed, steaming cans of soup in their hands, Asher retrieved his helmet from where it lay on the crate and followed Dice.
The Clone Lieutenant stopped at a cliff. A throng of troopers had already congregated there, some turned muttering curses, others left without a word at all. Dice flicked the stub of the cigarra off the edge and slid his helmet back on.
Reading a brother's body language was paramount in his work, and it was clear that disgust and horror ran high here.
"What is it?" Asher asked.
"Just… look over…" Dice said softly.
Asher peered over the cliff and immediately lost his appetite.
They'd found the villagers.
Mimbanese lay in a heap at the bottom of the cliff face, scorch marks on their clothing told him they'd been shot off the cliff in groups. The bodies piled high and festered, birds had already pecked out the eyes and flies had already gotten to them. The stench without his helmet was unbearable and Asher gagged.
Jace couldn't stop staring, wordlessly he tossed the soup over the edge and stomped off.
There were children down there, Asher recognized a few from the family holos on the wall.
Asher tossed what would've been his meal over the edge like Jace and slid on his helmet. His shoulders sagged, and he clenched his fists angrily.
These were innocent people, this was their planet and monsters made of metal had done this?
He engaged the recording of the scene, scanning the pile from the left to the right, zooming onto their faces.
People had to know, the Republic had to know, what this was? This wasn't a crime this was an atrocity.
Asher finished recording, dated the footage and stored it.
"Mudjumper-five this is Archangel-five, over."
"Roger Archangel this is Mudjumper, send it, over."
"Vod… we… we found something… wiring you the footage now, over."
The vid sent after a moment and the line was static.
"Stars and galaxies…" Hoyt muttered on the comm after a moment.
"If you have contact with the Mimbanese, they need to see this." Asher affirmed.
"Roger that vod…. I'll make sure they get it, hold position over."
"Roger that."
"Mudjumper-five out."
Asher's eyes stung, he wanted to vomit, but most of all he wanted to kill who had done this.
"Sir! You should see this!" Walker called out.
Asher jogged over, kneeling behind a line of sandbags at the apex of the town. A formation of organics, not droids, stood at the foot of the hill.
He slid his macros down and zoomed onto them.
They weren't Mimbanese, brown leathery faces and high braids made up their ranks. Their blasters were a mix of CIS issue and their own, Asher gawked at the Republic arms on them, knowing damn well where they came from.
They moved down the hill that circled the village in droves. Every one of them stood tall, hefting their weapons with steel in their eyes.
"Weequays…" Asher grit.
They outnumbered them three to one.
At the head of their formation however was something Asher never thought he would see again, something he hadn't seen since he was a cadet.
Three Mandalorian warriors, two of them obviously female, the third a towering male. Their armor a mix of grey and purple, they were armed to the teeth. They walked up with an air of confidence, it reminded Asher of the pomp some of the Coruscant civilians carried.
The formation halted as the lead Mandalorian raised her fist, dozens of mud covered boots stopping in unison.
The lead female took center stage, her arms crossed.
"To the commander of this rabble of soldiers, come out now!" The lead female called, "I would have words!"
Asher narrowed his eyes, and unslung his rifle.
"Brother, don't." Jace plead.
"They won't shoot me vod, there's no honor in that."
He set his rifle on the sandbags, but kept his pistol.
"Harper, if that woman shoots me I want you to send a round through her visor. Don't bother shooting their armor, if they are wearing beskar we won't get through it."
"Roger sir." Harper said, charging his rifle.
"Get ready for a fight boys, I want the fifteen-whiskeys up on the second story windows, and get the zulu-sixes on the tripods watching this road."
"Got it." Dice said, moving quickly.
With that, Asher stepped over the sandbags and advanced.
Every eye was on him, his men, their men, and the Mandalorians.
The lead female he towered over, her visor measured him with cold distaste as he crossed the distance, the other female to her right seemed curious.
The male however, he seemed indifferent to it all.
"Who is this that stands before me with a mark of my people on his helmet?" She hissed, pointing accusingly at the Jaig eyes painted proudly on his helm.
"Captain Asher of the First Medical support battalion." He said curtly, crossing his arms.
"The clone has a name." The male grunted, amusement tinging his voice, "Fa'se Jai'galaara'la sur'haii'se." (False Shriek hawk eyes.)
That caused a chuckle amongst the Mandalorians and Asher scowled behind his helmet.
"Vaabir gar copad at jorhaa'ir Mando'a?" He said. (Do you want to speak Mando'a?)
They froze, their mirth stopped dead in it's tracks.
"You speak our language?" The younger female asked.
He let them stew for a moment before he continued.
"Would you rather we converse in basic? I do not take kindly to being insulted."
"You are not a Mandalorian!" The male shouted, his voice deep and booming.
Asher glared daggers through his visor.
"I speak the language, I fight for my brothers, they are my clan and my creed. And I wear the armor that is a tribute to your own."
Both Mandalorians measured him curiously. He was an anomaly, an enigma but his answer seemed to relax them somewhat.
From what Asher remembered being trained by the Cuy'val Dar, Mandalorians respected bravery, they respected grit.
If he stood his ground, perhaps they would respect him.
Their leader looked over both shoulders, having a silent conversation with her subordinates before nodding. The three of them removed their helmets with a whistle and a pop from the seal breaking.
With that, the lead female began to speak.
"I am Rikke Vix, Head of Clan Vix. These are my children Dade and Tora." She introduced the male and female with gestures of her hand.
Their mother was not old, mid forties at least with black hair tied in a braid, a scar split her brow and her eyes reminded Asher of Kamino's ocean, dark and swirling but still a brilliant blue.
Her children were not too far from her in looks, her son was a tower of a man with a head like a cinderblock and a high and tight haircut that reminded him of Cutter.
As for the daughter? Perhaps he and his brothers weren't the only clones in the galaxy. She was a carbon copy of her mother in height and face. The only difference was her age and her hair was cut short.
For a brief moment, Asher found her lovely before he remembered the army behind them.
"What is it you want?" Asher asked, his arms still crossed.
"Your unconditional surrender." Rikke smirked.
"Not going to happen." Asher growled.
"You're outnumbered clone, you have two companies, and we have a force in the hundreds to send at you." Dade scowled.
Asher frowned.
"Then I hope you brought a good supply of bodybags. I won't surrender to murderers." He spat.
"Excuse me?" Rikke hissed.
Asher's voice steeled as his mind's eye took him to the mass grave.
"There's a pile of civilians thrown off a cliff like garbage outside that village. Did you do that?" Asher demanded.
The three Mandalorians showed looks of confusion. They glanced at each other rapidly, their eyes conveying some unspoken language.
"We do not kill civilians." Tora affirmed.
"Then explain the mass grave."
"We are not here for politics, we are here for credits. We were contracted to help lead the Separatist force here as of dawn yesterday, the same as them." Rikke explained gesturing to the Weequays that stood solemn behind her.
Asher shook his head.
"Credits or not, contract or not, you're scum. You claim to be honorable Mando'a when you side with an army that throws innocent people off of a cliff!" He roared.
The leader pursed her lips and eyed him critically.
"Your voice… it's familiar." She mused, "My children and I removed our helmets. Grace us with the same courtesy."
Asher hesitated for a moment, and complied.
His helmet came off with a hiss and a pop as the seal undid itself, he blinked away the Mimban sun just barely making it through the overcast.
The lead woman broke the silence first, her face knit with disbelief.
"Jango..?" Rikke whispered, her eyes seemed softer for just a moment.
Her daughter's hand was on her mother's shoulder instantly, the younger Mandalorian shaking her head.
Rikke Vix's eyes hardened again, like Kamino during a rainstorm.
"You're clones of Jango Fett." Rikke said, almost accusingly.
"We are." Asher confirmed.
The disgust from Dade Vix was palpable, while the females held disbelief. Asher narrowed his eyes before sliding his helmet back on.
"My men and I will never surrender, so either shoot me now or we can do this the old way."
Rikke Vix's face went from disbelief to a dazzlingly smile, her daughter did the same while Dade only smirked.
It reminded Asher of Firaxan sharks when blood was in the water.
"As you wish Clone Trooper, we've only heard tales of your kind's prowess. let's see if you're truly worthy of being called Mando'ade."
Asher turned to leave without a word, halfway up the hill he heard the younger female, Tora call out to him.
"Clone!" She yelled.
He peered over his shoulder.
"How did you earn the Jaig eyes?" She asked.
Asher stared for a moment, remembering hot sand, scorching gusts of wind and blood coating his hands.
"Bravery." He answered simply.
Tora Vix gave him a warm smile before sliding her helmet on.
"I like him." She gushed, giving him an amused point.
Her brother shook his head and they each retreated to their respective sides.
As Asher returned to his men, they encircled him.
"Negotiations go well?" Jace quipped.
"Oh they wanted us to surrender." Asher shrugged.
That caused a rouse of laughter through the Clone Troopers.
Asher hefted his DC-15A and watched as the Weequay mercenaries formed up. They began to chant in their native language, a few hundred voices all congregated on one leader who hefted a vibroaxe high as his men roared.
From what he could string together the Weequays were calling them meat droids, non-sentient cannon fodder that lived and died for a Republic that didn't care about them. They insulted their armor, their manhood, their combat abilities.
That explained the bravado at least, if they expected a quick victory they would learn a valuable lesson.
"Firing line!" Asher barked as his men took their positions.
Asher dialed onto the leader of the Weequays who still stood cockily in the open. His vibroaxe still held high as he rode on the throes of battle lust.
"Last chance Clones!" The Weequay cackled in Basic, "Lay down your weapons and surrender!"
The Clone Captain squeezed the trigger, a blue bolt zipping through his enemy's head. The body careened backwards, head canoed by the round as skull fragments and scorched brain spattered.
He could only think of one response to their demand.
"Come and take them!" Asher roared.
He figured Cutter would have loved that.
With that, the Weequay mercenaries charged.