"According to ISB intel, the rebel base is located in a small group of abandoned houses…here." Commander Tharcourt enlarged the holomap on the table, and pointed to four old single-story buildings in the middle of the desert. The center two seemed to be joined by a small hallway of some kind. "And again, and if you can believe the information we've been given, they have comms jamming and cloaking equipment, among other toys they lifted from an Imperial vessel near Kuat. That's the objective. Recapture the equipment if possible. Try to take at least a few prisoners."
It had been barely a week since the team was assembled, and with only a modicum of training together, they had recieved their first mission. It seemed straight-forward; to assault a small rebel base and recapture or destroy any Imperial equipment housed there. Tharcourt knew though that the unit's lack of practical experience in working with one another would be a hurdle to overcome, and had hoped for a series of smaller, easier missions. He imagined that it had likely been Tarkin who was behind this trial-by-fire they were about to embark upon.
"Enemy strength?" Felian inquired, studying the map.
"Between twenty and twenty-five." The commander answered, relaying the information given to him at this morning's briefing. "Unless they get some reinforcements before we arrive. They should mostly be congregated in this building." Tharcourt pointed to one of the houses. If we catch them just before civil twilight, at least half will more than likely be asleep. Take them a while to get organized." He thought for a moment. How to best utilize his small unit, to make the best use of each of the members' unique skills and abilities.
"Sergeant Daraay, you have the most experience with both stealth operations and you have the cannon. I want you to take Mets and Coleth, along with Dall and Lago. You two…" He pointed to the two stormtroopers he'd just named. I want you to get some sandtrooper or shoretrooper armor from the supply closet. Try to blend in as much as you can." The two nodded. "The rest of you are with me. We're going to get in the back here…and take the house with the equipment, eliminating any guards they may have there."
"Understood." Felian nodded. The commander continued.
"We'll set up a defensive position there, blaster in each window and overwatch, all covering those three houses. Daraay, I want you to make entry into this house…" He pointed toward the farthest, "And light it up like a supernova. Any rebels who come out of the other houses will be inside our field of fire. You will continue to push through the house as we move up from our position to meet you…here."
"What if they can manage to organize enough to put up a stiff resistance, sir?" Daraay posed.
"Then your team will use the house you have cleared to set up a strong defensive position." The commander explained. "This will trap all of the insurgents between you and us where we can keep them in the middle of a deadly crossfire, with Corporal Gallen acting as designated marksman, targeting any of them who take the time to aim."
"Not a problem, commander." Gallen stated.
"We insert four kilometers out using our ship's new stealth capabilities. They won't detect The Huntsman coming in. Then we go in on foot, using the darkness and the nightly dust storms as cover. Quick and violent once we make contact. I want us in and out in less than five minutes. Any questions?"
"No sir." All of the troopers shot back.
"Alright troopers, gear up. This is our first mission. It's time to see what we can do." Commander Tharcourt said, giving a brisk nod, and slapping the table with his right hand. The nine soldiers in the room assaulted the weapons and equipment closet, drawing out whatever blasters, armor and supplies each thought they'd need for the mission. Commander Tharcourt strapped on a plastoid chestplate, and pulled on leather gauntlets. He traded his RK-3 blaster pistol for a larger and more powerful SE-14r he had come to love, after spending hours on the range with the weapon. He fitted a small fighting knife to the back of his belt, and made sure to carry six spare power cells for his blaster.
Once the team was fully armed and outfitted, which included Daraay equipping herself with a terrifying MWC-35c cannon outfitted with a shoulder stock and scope from a DLT-19d, among other mods to the weapon, they left their headquarters area. As Delta-7 walked to the hanger, the enormous deathtrooper carrying such a weapon, with the large energy pack on her back was enough to make everyone in the corridor give the unit a wide berth. They climbed aboard the madified TA-4 shuttle, and Ekks dropped into the pilot's seat and switched on the main power.
"Ready to go, sir?" The Corellian trooper called back. Tharcourt hit the large button controlling the loading ramp, which started to slowly close with a quiet hum. The other 8 members of the team took their seats on the long, padded benches on either side of the shuttle's bay.
"Take us up." The commander called back, and the ship lifted from the deck, and glided out of The Accuser's hanger, the wings folding downward into position. As soon as the small shuttle had cleared the star destroyer's immediate area, they activated the cloaking and jamming equipment on board, and sped off. Tharcourt ventured into the cockpit of The Huntsman, and plopped down in the co-pilot chair.
"Engaging hyperdrive now." Ekks commented. "We'll be in the planet's atmosphere in about thirty minutes.
"Thirty minutes!" Tharcourt echoed back to the crew of waiting troopers.
In the back of the shuttle, Daraay sat silently, her huge blaster across her lap. Sniper Reeso Gallen pulled out a set of earpieces, and after popping them into his ears, hit a button on a small datapad. The marksman closed his eyes and started lightly bobbing his head to whatever music was playing over the device. After a few moments, he shot one eye open to see Felian, Coleth and Walker staring at him.
"Get's me in the mood…to kill." He stated grimly, then closed his eye, and went back to bobbing his head to the beat of the song. The three troopers across from him shrugged, Walker repressing a grin at the sniper's poor attempt to sound tough. Meanwhile, unit medic Dall double-checked the contents of his bag, to ensure that he had everything the team might need. Bacta spray…check. Bandages, lots. Blood bags, one for everyone. Still probably not enough.
"You alright, Lago?" Felian asked across the walkway. The young stormtrooper from Tattooine, now dressed in an eclectic mix of sandtrooper and shoretrooper armor, looked a little apprehensive, and clutched his E-11 close to his chest.
"Yes. I think so." He answered. "Little nervous, sir."
"Been shot at before?" Felian asked.
"Yes sir. Just couple times." Lago answered.
"Well three things I can tell you, trooper…" The scout trooper sergeant explained, ticking off his advice by raising fingers. "This time, they won't see you coming. You have better men with you than a bunch of regs. And three. Don't call me sir. I'm a sergeant."
"Right. Sorry, sergeant." That elicited a few chuckles.
Thirty-five minutes later found The Huntsman sitting in a narrow valley next to a wide plain of blowing sand. The ten members of Delta-Seven stood in the bay of the shuttle, preparing for their first field operation with a mix of nervousness and excitement. As they rechecked their weapons and gear, Commander Tharcourt delivered a final briefing.
"We're going in. The target is four-point-one kilometers south-by-southwest. We have a walk of about an hour. Sun comes up in two. I want this quick and clean. Just because we're the new team in the galaxy doesn't mean we should act like first-month kay-dettes. Everyone clear?"
"Yes sir." The team answered. Tharcourt smiled. He hit the ramp control button, and the door began to open, revealing a dark, windy landscape. Wisps of dust blew into the bay where they stood.
"Good luck. Let's show these rebel neophytes what real guerilla warfare looks like."
"For the Empire." Sergeant Daraay stated dogmatically.
"For the Empire!" The team shouted.
"Let's move. Spread out, three-meter intervals, and stay in communication." Tharcourt ordered. "Easy to get lost in the dust...move out." The unit began to maneuver through the cover of the fine dust whipped up by the planet's nightly winds. The commander and Corporal Gallen, lacking the facial protection afforded by the other soldiers' masks, wore scarfs over their noses and mouths, and had their goggles fitted tightly over their eyes. It was miserable, trudging through these conditions, but Drakken Tharcourt knew from his teenage years that almost any enemy would not calculate an attack mounted in bad weather conditions. The worse, the better.
They finally came to a slight rise, little more than a sand dune about two-hundred meters from the small cluster of houses. Commander Tharcourt raised a pair of electrobinoculars to his eyes, and peered through the dust and darkness. He could make out two dark forms near the back of the house rumored to contain the stolen Imperial equipment. Nobody stood watch in front of the building the rebels were supposed to be bunked in.
"Alright…Sergeant Daraay, take your team…move in close. Stay hidden. Wait until you hear us light it up, then move in." Tharcourt spoke lowly into his helmet's microphone.
"Yes sir, commander." The death trooper replied over the comms system.
"The rest of you…on me. We move to target building. No shooting until we get there…unless absolutely necessary." The four troopers in his half of the team nodded. "Let's go."
Two rebels stood guard at the rear door of the building. Tharcourt's team moved through the darkness and the blowing sand to the side of the house, and lined up along the wall. Felian moved to the corner of the structure, his blaster pistol held at high-ready. Behind him, Walker readied his DLT-19 blaster, followed by Commander Tharcourt, his blaster pistol held in two hands, muzzle raised. Ekks was next in line, his E-11 at the ready, and behind him, Gallen watched the other corner of the building through the scope of his heavily modified E-11S. They waited silently for the order that soon crackled through their earpieces:
"Execute." Tharcourt stated. They quickly stacked up and rounded the corner, eliminating the two guards with two shots, and lined up by the door of the building, ready to make entry.
"Gallen. Roof." The commander ordered. The sniper nodded, and in an instant was gone, slinging his blaster rifle over his shoulder before leaping onto a crate, then pulling himself up onto the roof of the building just as Felian kicked open the back door of the house. Two more rebels inside got off a shot apiece before Ekks pivoted into the doorway and let fly a burst from his heavy blaster rifle. The team poured into the building, and Tharcourt took note of the stacks of metal crates against the walls and the blasters leaned up in the far-right corner, as the three troopers took up positions in the two windows and door, looking out onto the three nearby buildings.
Meanwhile, Sergeant Daraay heard the sound of blaster fire. That was the signal. With a silent wave of her left arm, she motioned the four men under her 'forward'. They moved quickly past a low wall, and to the front door of the first house in the cluster. She racked the slide on the bottom of her blaster cannon as Coleth prepared to kick the door open. She nodded, and the scout gave the door a firm kick. As soon as it swung open, Daraay spun into the doorway, firing a powerful blast into the first rebel she saw, a man in an armored breast-plate. The cuirass did nothing, as the enormous blast sent him flying backwards into the far wall of the small house.
As Daraay stepped into the building, three more rebels popped up from where they had been sleeping. Mets fired three bolts into a man brandishing an E-11 blaster, the scout trooper's own E-11 dropping the insurgent instantly just as the death trooper to his right fired a long burst into the other two fighters. A woman in a tan coat and black scarf appeared in the doorway to a small side room, trying desperately to load an old DC-15a rifle. She froze as she heard the cocking of Daraay's cannon, and looked up just in time for the death trooper to fire another massive bolt into her chest. The dead rebel was thrown back into the room, disappearing into the darkness. Coleth, Dall and Lago entered the house, Coleth moving to the side room, and making a quick entry. There were two blasts, followed by the scout calling the all clear.
Commander Tharcourt's team was playing a game of 'pop the womprat' with the insurgents in the next two houses. So far, Gallen was winning, his enhanced night-vision optical scope allowing him to take precise shots on the rebels as soon as they poked their heads out of doors or windows to take a pot-shot at the Imperial soldiers. Tharcourt and Felian, both using the doorway of the house, caught a rebel in their sights. A man in a long, tan duster was running across their field of fire with an E-11 blaster in each hand. The commander and the sergeant both opened fire, sending the rebel pitching forward onto the sandy ground.
By Tharcourt's count, his team had killed between ten and eleven rebels. They had seen enough blaster flashes coming from the other team's position to know that they had eliminated several more, and were currently engaging enemies on their front as well. Still, the commander was seeing an inordinate amount of blaster fire coming from the center two structures, and his team couldn't move from their position to link up with Daraay's as planned. The seasoned guerilla fighter was beginning to understand that the report on the number of hostiles at the rebel camp may have been greatly underestimated.
"Hey…Felian!" The commander shouted over the din.
"Sir?" Felian answered, firing his blaster pistol toward a window that bolts had just flown from.
"Felian." The sergeant looked to see his commander pointing out the doorway.
"What?" The scout trooper asked. Tharcourt gave him a cynical grin.
"Military…Intelligence. What the hell." The officer stated. Felian was confused a moment, then burst out laughing, and returned to shooting.
Daraay's team was alternating between being pinned down by intense fire coming from the two nearby houses, and laying down suppressive fire. There were more rebels in this encampment than they had been led to believe, and the death trooper took a moment as she knelt under a window, red and blue bolts streaking over her head, to come up with a strategy. She glanced over at Mets, and noticed the two thermal detonators dangling from his right side.
"Corporal Mets." Her voice sounded in his earpiece. The scout fired blindly through the window four more times and replied.
"Go ahead."
"Can I borrow your detonators?" The death trooper asked. Mets looked down, seemingly just noticing the grenades. He unclipped them and rolled them across the floor.
"Yours." He answered, and fired out the window again.
"Mets." She called again. He looked over at her, still firing periodically without even aiming. Not much of a point anyhow. "I don't mean to keep interrupting, but I need you and Coleth to draw their fire."
"More than I am?" Mets joked dryly. Daraay just stared at him through her black helmet. The scout nodded. "Alright…alright. Coleth!"
"Aho!" The other scout called from the open back door where he and Lago were seemingly firing in all directions. That's exactly where the enemy seemed to be at the time.
"Draw their fire for the sergeant."
"More than I already am?!" Coleth swore. He grunted. "If she insists." The three soldiers reloaded their weapons, and Dall switched out his E-11 for the DC-15 dropped by the dead rebel, loading and readying the larger blaster. They all drew a breath, and sent a torrent of fire from the left side of the house, pinning down many of the enemy fighters, and drawing the attention of the ones brave enough to shoot back.
Daraay sighed, and magnetically clipped the detonators to her belt. She stood, and in a daring move, physically dove through the window, landing on her stomach outside. She was on her feet in moments, and primed one of the grenades for a short fuse, lobbing it through a window where several rebels were clustered, firing at Daraay's team. The explosion shook the house, and there was no more shooting from that window. She saw a rebel swing out from a doorway of the building, and raised her blaster, firing a burst of automatic blaster bolts into the figure. Daraay pulled the next detonator, primed it, and threw it through the doorway. Again, the house was shaken, and more fire ceased from the structure.
Tharcourt heard the explosions, and noticed a slight lull in fire coming his direction. Gallen dropped another rebel who had decided to climb up on the roof of one of the houses with a blaster rifle. Still, it was too dangerous to move from the cover of the building they were in, and the dust storm had abated as dawn was breaking. They would soon lose whatever advantage they still had from using the night for concealment. He played through different scenarios in his head, and formulated a new plan to replace the original one which had fallen completely apart.
"Sergeant Daraay." He spoke over his mic.
"Yes sir…hold..." The death trooper answered. "Just a…moment, sir…" He heard an explosion on the other side of the compound. "Yes, go ahead, sir."
"You um…you alright, sergeant?"
"Yes sir." Her voice came back, panting. "Just had to use a breaching charge as an anti-personnel mine."
"How did you trigger it?"
"Blaster."
"Oh. Sergeant, we're not making much headway here. I want your team to withdraw back to the ship. We're going to blow the equipment in place."
"Understood, sir. Do you need covering fire?"
"Negative. We'll use the explosion as cover. Take your team and make for The Huntsman. We rendezvous there. If we're not back in three-zero, leave without us." There was a long silence.
"I…I will make sure the team gets back to the shuttle, sir. If you are not back in three-zero, I will make sure they get back to The Accuser." He was about to ask why Daraay had rephrased his orders, when it donned on him; she was his death trooper. Daraay would not leave him this rock under any circumstance.
"I understand, Sergeant Daraay. I will make it back." He stated. "Move. Delta-Seven-Actual…out." He turned to the room. There were at least a dozen large cases stacked by the wall to his left. He immediately began to drag and throw them to the floor, opening them. Four cloaking devices for small vessels, three broadband decryption computers, four frequency-jammers and one nav computer. The rebels were no doubt planning something big involving a fleet of ships, and he wasn't about to let them pull it off. Two cases sat by the stack of blaster rifles in the corner. He opened one to find it full of power cells. The next contained four-dozen thermal detonators. He instantly got an epiphany.
Tharcourt dumped all of the power cells into the boxes of electronic equipment, followed by the detonators. If he were going to destroy the gear, it was going to be spectacular. Might as well give these kriffing rebels a show. For good measure, he then requisitioned Felian's breaching charge, and planted it amidst the crates of stolen materiel.
"Everyone…take two detonators. On my mark, arm and drop them into a crate and run for the ship." He ordered. "Gallen! Off the roof and fall back!" The soldiers each grabbed two of the explosives from the crates, and twisted the dials for the longest delay possible. "Go!" They pressed the buttons on the top of the spheres and dropped them into the boxes. What followed was by all of their accounts, the most unorganized and frantic running a group of soldiers ever executed in combat, all five of them vying for first place in a race that pitted them against five or six megajoulles of energy with a twenty-second delay. They had just crested a small rise when the explosives went off, propelling all five soldiers over the hill and to the ground. They stood to find that the blast had not only destroyed the equipment and the building it had been stored in, but had also killed or stunned most of the remaining rebels, making it easier for the Imperials to disappear into the gathering dawn.
Huzzah! The first mission for the team, and it wasn't a total disaster! And they sure gave those filthy rebels what for! Oh wait...the rebels are the good guys in Star Wars. It's so terribly hard to remember that while reading this, isn't it? Sort of the point of this fic, to show that there are good and bad guys on both sides of any conflict. Hey, it's a war story without sugar-coating the politics of one side or the other. THAT'S original, huh? I will have another chapter up tomorrow for your reading pleasure, so until then, loyal readers, I bid you a fond cheerio! -Drake