Chapter 27

Location: Corvette Bittersweet

Their ship was in a bad state, systems of all types were struggling as the crew attempted repairs. Half of them had tears and burns in their uniforms and most those who did were either bandaged or stitched up from wounds suffered during their previous battle and from wounds suffered in its aftermath. The small Hammerhead Corvette was on the verge of dying, for three of her crew they'd crossed that threshold some time ago.

Sato sat there on a medical cot, looking at the body bags holding those three members of his crew as the burns on his arm were treated by the medical droid. The only noise really was the droid's work and the beeping of a heart monitor attached to a very severely injured petty officer laying unconscious on the cot behind him, her breaths coming through a machine pumping air in through her nose. Another trio of men were also too badly injured to continue with their duties, and were quietly sitting on the chairs at the hatch into the medical bay. One was bandaged across the face, victim of sever burns. The second had his leg in a bacta cast, held in place by rigid metal splints with a pair of crutches leaning against his chair along with his arm being covered in bandages. The third had his arm in a sling and half his face was covered by bandages, Sato had learned he'd lost an eye and most of his hearing with the seemingly standard burns and lacerations.

He hadn't know just how badly damaged the ship truly was until he'd come to. The engines were almost disabled, only the lower sublight engine was operating, the others' injectors were damaged, the primary coolant system had fractured in several places. The weapons were almost gone. Only the starboard bow turret and the ventral stern were operational. The main hyperdrive has been damaged, its motivator being nearly gone, so they were left with their backup, a much slower and shorter-ranged one. Worst of all, they'd lost three members of their already small crew.

For a ship this size it was the equivalent of a Venator losing hundreds of personnel all at once. For day-to-day operations it was a crippling blow, for desperate times it was near-lethal.

"How much longer droid?" Sato grumbled.

"Almost done sir, I do advise caution, these injuries are third degree burns, they may require bacta treatments."

"That'll have to wait, just finish the current task, give me some painkillers and let me get on with finishing repairs on my ship," Sato ordered.

"Aye sir," the doctor droid responded and finished his work and Sato felt the sting of a fresh dose of painkillers being shot into his arm.

He unsteadily got up and slipped his uniform on. The ship's captain didn't look too good, his coat was torn asunder on his right side, and he had quite a bit of blood on his face, but he didn't care. The ship had to be saved. Sato walked out into the main corridor, and was saluted by one of his chiefs.

"Captain, you're up?"

"Yeah chief," Sato said, but couldn't return the salute, so he just nodded and the man stood down, "Status?"

"Well sir…we've got the coolant system's damage isolated to the dorsal and starboard engines, engineering will be testing it shortly. Weapons are as good as they'll get, the actual turrets are physically destroyed, we'll need a full refit to replace them. The hyperdrive I'm told is a no-go. It's best to get a replacement motivator rather than risking catastrophic overload. Most of the bridge's components are repaired, we can maneuver the ship and communicate and run sensors. But barely."

"Okay, how's the crew holding up?" Sato replied quietly, seeing a pair of men walk by as if in a daze, barely able to walk a straight line.

"Three dead, three out of commission, most of the rest injured to varying degrees, it's a credit that they're able to function at all. What they need most now is rest sir."

"They can't rest until the ship's safe. They know that," Sato shook his head, "And that's the motivation that'll keep them going. Ease up on the aggressive corrections as best you can. We're all on a knife's edge, best not push them any more than needed."

"I'll talk with the engineering chief sir," the chief nodded.

"Good, I'm gonna relieve Lieutenant Kolzaar on the bridge."

"It wasn't your fault sir, just my view," the chief whispered before Sato passed, "We got picked out and this ship's not designed for that kind of attack. Nothing could have been done, the fact we're not dead is a testament to luck."

"As you were chief," Sato replied, signaling his acceptance of this pep talk without breaking military bearing.

Sato walked into the bridge where Lieutenant Kolzaar was busying himself at a navigation station, checking starcharts and calculating as best he could. Sato knew just by the look of this that something far worse was afoot than mere damage.

"Commander," Kolzaar said, looking up at his captain, "Boy am I glad you're awake."

"Me too," he said and held a hand to quiet the younger officer, "I know the damage, but something tells me we're looking at something worse now."

"Yes sir, in…my haste to get us out of the combat area I…gave the order for a random jump. Sir, we're no longer in friendly territory, we're in Separatist space," Kolzaar whispered.

"By the force…" Sato mumbled, trying to figure a way out of this, "Best not tell the crew until we're certain of a route that'll get us back through to friendly lines. This is a problem for which they'll need to know a solution has been found. Or else…who knows. Keep this information to yourself lieutenant."

"Aye sir. Until then, what do we do?"

"Repair the ship, heal our wounded, say farewell to the dead. It's all we can do."

Location: Republic Landing Zone, Planet Bandomeer

The Acclamator Assault Ship landed without incident, the landing zone was well and truly secure, enemy forces weren't anywhere near the massive base of operations for the Republican Guard on Bandomeer. Captain Challis led the way down the ramp in his Gian V-48 Command Speeder with his radio man Sergeant Luches, the Company First Sergeant, First Sergeant Broower. The rest of Company HQ, the company medic, Sergeant Vael, the supply/training NCO, Staff Sergeant Kea, and the new company XO, 1st Lieutenant Weye, were in the rear in their V-47 Medical Speeder and a second V-46 Command Speeder. Around them, other assault ships had already landed, and they could see an unending line of vehicles rolling away down the roads towards the smoke on the horizon and the skyscrapers where battle could be heard.

"All vics lead vic, pull off, assemble next to Bravo Company," Challis ordered his convoy of Gian Combat Speeders.

The convoy was made up of Gian-model speeders. The majority were V-45 Combat Speeders, armed with a powerful single hood-mounted heavy laser cannon turret controlled either by an automated targeting computer or by the passenger and vehicle commander seated next to the driver. Behind them in the armored cabin were four seats, three in the rear, and one in the mostly-enclosed turret mounting a Mark II Medium Repeating Blaster Cannon. Like the command and medical vehicles their gull-wing doors opened to the sides to allow rapid disembarking. Their squads each had two of them and their platoon HQ's had a different but similar version, the V-46, with an E-Web Heavy Repeating Blaster Cannon and the large hood cannon removed and additional communication and sensor equipment added, but nearly as much as the Mark II-armed V-48's who had four spindly antennae sticking up from the rear of the armored vehicle. With all four platoons including Weapons Platoon (Whose V-45's all had E-Web's) and the mortar section tacked on the grand total was forty-eight vehicles of all four types.

"Hold here," Challis said and opened the door and stepped down with First Sergeant Broower behind him and then was met by Lieutenant Weye who pulled in next to him and saluted as he exited his own vehicle, "Battalion's got a mission briefing for us, let's go, Top, go ahead and get the company geared up for the push. Sort out whatever you can that needs doing."

"Roger that sir," the voice of his senior NCO replied with a nod and started assembling all the platoon leaders and platoon sergeants around him to start briefing them on the area in question.

The unit was told to paint their armor in a mix of greens and browns, and their vehicles bore this pattern as well courtesy of their motor pool technicians working like mad to get them ready. The eighteen T1-APC's of Bravo Company were also painted in this same way, as was the armor of their fellow infantry company. Their troops were now standing by, most standing outside their vehicles, taking a few last drags on a cigarra.

Challis walked over to battalion headquarters, an assembly of officers and command vehicles with troops walking around trying to prep to move as Major Saben was giving a brief to the other three company commanders in his battalion. He finished as Challis walked over, and waved him over to a small holotable where a map of the area was visible with locations for friendly and enemy units were marked all over.

"Captain Challis," he started and saw two more captains join, Bravo's CO and a tank company CO, "Captain Orssev, Captain Stils of Anvil Company, 105nd Armored Battalion," he greeted, then began, "Here's the situation: The Marines landed and made a frontal assault against the city using heavy walkers to spearhead their drive in, but they've been met with fierce resistance from Confederate Patriot Forces Divisions, at least four of them, sixty thousand biological infantry, maybe five to ten times that in droids."

"Damn, that's quite a haul if we can bag 'em," Captain Orssev noted.

"Exactly, so Command's decided to try and encircle the city and squeeze them until they break. Our regiment's moving to the northern flank of the city, it's almost entirely swamp out there, so it heavily restricts movement of any kind. That means this hill," he pointed, zooming in on a twin pair of steep hills with a gentle saddle connecting them above the swampy area around it. The hill was terraced with near vertical stone embankments crossed by a multitude of footpaths all around it going from the base where a small road zig-zagged up to a village of about two-dozen buildings at the peaks and in the saddle, "Hill 205, is critical to aiding the northern push. If we can get an artillery observer up there we can dominate the surrounding swamp trails and roads, from there we can have eyes on every MSR and ASR for miles."

"And the catch sir?" Challis asked.

"The fleet can't hit it, nor can our own artillery. The Senate has apparently deemed it too risky to the cultural heritage of the place. We'll have to take it by force, the Seppies have positioned a full battalion of infantry and armor on the hill and in the swamps around it. You're going in with tank support and brigade artillery is standing by to lay down the hurt once you're in contact."

"Any idea on enemy artillery sir?" Captain Stils, the tank officer, asked, "If we know how important it is they'll damn sure know."

"Recon's gotten eyes on enemy batteries forming up west of the city. They're laying it on pretty thick onto the southern flank and the city itself but they keep moving around too quickly to get effective counter-fire. Be prepared to fan out and use the elephant grasses to maneuver your troops," the major replied.

"What sort of armor are we looking at sir?"

"Looks to be two companies of AAT's, and possibly GAT's, so make sure you've got AT sticks ready, those bastards will most definitely try flanking your column if you hold up too long, their heavy vehicles can maneuver in those thickets, our heavies can't," he advised, "To remedy that I'm working on getting a flight gunships assigned to air support, we've got plenty of the fekkers flying around so it should be feasible. I'll keep you apprised of that over comms."

"Roger that sir."

"One more thing," Saben said one last time, "I'm giving the order are to go in with fixed bayonets, we took delivery of those fancy blades, let's use 'em. It's really close-in there with all that high swamp grass, best to have a close-in weapon that'll get the job done."

"Roger that sir. Alpha Company should take point, we've got the faster and smaller vehicles. If we hit a strongpoint along any of these chokepoints we can fan out and perform a double envelopment with Bravo Company and Anvil Company suppressing," Challis suggested, talking with the other two captains.

"Good call," Saben noted, "We'll have a pair of TACP and a Fire Support Team arriving shortly, they'll be your go-between for fire support requests, they'll ride with you Bravo, keep 'em safe."

"Wilco sir," Captain Orssev nodded.

"We'll be expecting them shortly, lastly, you'll have the rest of the battalion on your right, holding that down, advancing in-line. 2nd Battalion's on your left, I'll be monitoring the operation," Saben declared lastly but had another word for them, "When you get there, remember, the bayonet…that'll be the weapon that'll send those seppies running for the hills, give 'em the cold steel."

Challis unconsciously felt the six-inch bayonet that had been issued shortly before their departure. The A280 was already able to mount such a weapon (It had been a popular weapon even before the Clone Wars) but due to them never facing biological enemies they'd never issued them until now. Today, the Guard would go in with blades affixed, prepared to run their enemies through. It would take a special kind of soldier to be able to carry that kind of fight through to the end, whatever it may have been.

Once dismissed Challis walked to his assembled officers and senior NCO's. They knew something was going down, it wasn't going to be easy, so they knew to expect something like that. Challis simply walked over, and unslung his blaster rifle, pulled out his bayonet and attached it. Through their visors the entire company saw it, and First Sergeant Broower was the first to say it.

"Fix bayonets!"

An echoing of the cold order sounded out as every man who carried an A280 pulled out their shining two-sided blade and clicked it into place on the end of their weapon. Challis saw the gunner on one of their speeders rip off her helmet and vomit over the side of the speeder, coughing as she did so. The order was one no experienced trooper really wanted to have to hear. CQB was not to be looked-forward to, and if bayonets were being called up that meant it was about to be the closest of close combat. Challis ignored the sight and focused on relaying the briefing to his company's leadership.

"Okay, we're taking Hill 205, and the village Neff on top of it. From there we'll be able to completely dominate the entire area, call in artillery, spy out movement, etcetera. We're going in with Bravo Company and a tank company, callsign Anvil, in support with artillery standing for fire missions on anything but the village and hill."

"Sir," First Sergeant Broower asked.

"Yes Top?"

"Why can't the fleet just crater this shit from orbit? We have orbital and air supremacy don't we? Why waste time and resources taking a fekking hill?"

"Because some moron on Coruscant thinks it too valuable a piece of culture to be leveled."

"You're shitting me?"

"Wish I was Lieutenant. No, we're gonna have to assault the hill and take it with small arms grenades and light cannons. There's an enemy battalion up there and around it, two full tank companies with infantry and droids to boot. Hopefully we'll be getting some air support en route so we can minimalize the damage they can cause before we get there, so I'll keep you apprised of that."

"We're going into a pretty dense area sir," Broower told him, "Might be a good idea to go in on foot. Clearing our flanks as we go."

"Agreed, we can walk the vics in, following the waterways to maneuver more freely without folding over the grasses, let's have first platoon on the left-hand side of the road in-line, second and weapons in the middle in-column, and third on the right, also in-line," Challis outlined.

"My thoughts exactly sir, we can have mortars in the rear of the column on the road, ready to set up their tubes to send out fire missions."

"We can also have Weapons ready to plug up gaps or support with heavy weapons."

"Actually sir, we'd be better served detaching Weapons' AT teams to either flanking platoon. If they come across enemy armor they'll be right on top of it, they won't have time for an AT team to maneuver to them from the road," Broower advised, more like corrected, but Challis agreed.

"Alright, go ahead, lieutenant, I want two of your AT teams attached to first and third platoons. First and third keep your weapons squads close in to the MSR so they can lay in a crossfire in case something pops up on the road," Challis ordered, getting a knowing nod from his first sergeant, agreeing with the plan, "Any questions?"

There were none, so Challis dismissed them. He waved Broower over to him, having a few things to tell the man.

"Go ahead and go around to each briefing, assert that they use their bayonets, it's going to be a tight fight, hand-to-hand fighting's gonna happen tonight, so be sure they know that."

"Yes sir, it'll be dark in an hour or two, I'll reassert that they need to be careful about noise discipline."

"Good, well," Challis sighed as they all heard the relatively close sounds of Separatist artillery hitting the ground less than a mile away, making everyone look and flinch at the noise, "Time to clock in."

Location: Near Planet Euceron, Confederate Patriot Forces Massing Point

"Admiral," Der's S-3 officer, Admiral Likke, a Muun, called out, running into the command center below the bridge from the communications room next-door, "We've got a Republican Guard fleet at Bandomeer, over a hundred ships, including one of their Heavy Carriers. They inflicted moderate casualties against the Battlegroup we'd already dispatched to hold the Braxant Run. Right now Republican Guard ground forces have landed and a large battle's underway on the surface."

"Any intelligence about Guard fleet movements?" Der asked, waving for the holotable to be adjusted to zoom in on Bandomeer and the surrounding systems.

"Negative ma'am, so far it appears the Guard's principal concentration is somewhere near Lantillies. Do we move the fleet to try and catch this force by itself?" her S-2, a Bothan named General Tred'ham, called out.

"It could be a diversion by the Guard to lure our fleet into chomping on that force at Bandomeer, we leave position here and the route to Raxus is vulnerable to assault thanks to Grievous exhausting our reserves in the sector," she replied, leaning on the table, "No, this has trap written all over it, the fleet we have at Bandomeer will have to hold the line," she said sincerely, resolved in her decision.

"We can deploy an additional Battlegroup from our reserves to reinforce them ma'am," Admiral Likke offered, "It wouldn't take much for that diversion to become a principal assault to push through to Phindar and cut our territorial holdings in two again."

"Speaking of Phindar, what's the status there?" Der mumbled.

"Mundi's Clones still aren't budging, the terrain's impossible to assault we're being told, and we can't really use our numbers to proper effect."

"For pity sakes, I'm tired of this Republic last stand drawing our attention away, order a few ships to maneuver overhead and burn them out," Der waved off.

"Ma'am the reinforcements for Bandomeer?"

"Can't risk another full Battle Group, but we can get away with detaching a Squadron, inform Admiral Flint he's on his own for the moment," Der responded, and looked at the recent reports, "What's the story on Geonosis?"

"We've managed to re-establish control, the bugs are pretty savvy it turns out," General Tred'ham said, pulling out his personal datapad, and began reading, "Major factory projects are underway, thankfully there's plenty of space for them to do so."

"It's a miracle the Republic didn't move more forces to retake the planet," Der shook her head.

"The Clone and Jedi forces were fairly diminished after Grievous went on that rampage and lost the Malevolence, the Jedi tried to exploit that but our remaining forces blunted their offensive," Tred'ham responded, "The Jedi forces however are reorganizing however, a large fleet is massing near Eriadu, it's possible Geonosis could find itself under siege within one or two weeks."

"So we have to make a scene, if we threaten the Colonies, the Jedi fleet may be recalled to assume a defensive posture, buying us time to build up Geonosis' defenses. How are we on fuel Admiral Drakka?" Der asked her S-4, her logistics officer.

"We've refueled enough to be able to launch limited local operations," the Neimodian officer replied, piping up now that he'd been told to contribute, "Give me…two days to requisition additional tankers and I can get us enough for a limited offensive."

"You have one, Likke, get me a plan in 24 hours, I want to make a push towards Roche, that'll get the Republic's attention."

"Roche, their droid factories are some of the largest in the galaxy, the threat of us seizing them will definitely elicit a Republic response," Tred'ham added, "Perhaps even a Republican Guard counter-offensive."

"It would definitely draw their attention away from Bandomeer," Der smirked.

"And draw their capital ships in open space, them placing their fleet in Roche space would be demanded by the Senate."

"Or at least nearby. That narrows the reconnaissance patterns we'll have to make."

"Good, let's get to it, I've got a meeting," Der sighed, pushing off of the table and then dismissed herself.

The young admiral rubbed her temples as she tried working the headache out of her system before she had her meeting. It was set up for a political meeting, the Prime Minister of Bandomeer and the Bandomeer Defense Minister with a CIS negotiator. The two of them were calling her to plead for an end to the conflict on their world. She couldn't say that she would blame them, their forces were small, but able to turn the tide in one way or another, however they didn't know which side to take and swing the battle and therefore end it. They didn't know who was going to return to try and finish them off. She knew their people demanded action, she'd been there herself, Der had been them.

She got to her office and sat down as the memory struck her once more the same way as it had so many other times before. Der's homeworld had become a battleground, her home had been attacked by Republic forces. Her planetary defense forces were tiny, laughably pathetic in all respects. Their principal warships were three pirate-modified Interceptor IV Frigates and two Interceptor IV Frigates that she'd helped turn into carrier refits with Z-95 Headhunters bought from an Eriadu Defense Fleet boneyard.

She was a commander back then, she was in command of their two carriers and their thirty-two fighters. A fleet of five lightly armored modified and modified again former freighters does not make for much of a fleet. But she couldn't sit back and watch her world getting torn apart below her. She had to take action. She'd weighed the consequences, the Republic wasn't there to invade, the Separatists had only set up a large communications relay post and a shelter for their spy network in the capital with the blessing of her admittedly corrupt government. But she was a sworn officer of their defense fleet, and she had a family to think about. The Republic was launching a raid, a raid that had turned into an invasion, the capital had fighting raging in the streets, civilians were caught in the crossfire and the ministers council was unable to meet and make a decision. So she did.

Her ships fired on the three Venators that were supporting the strike. With the combined Separatist force of a dozen frigates already engaging them the Republic was forced into retreat. They'd never returned, and Der was offered the dream of a flag officer's position. She'd stayed for the purpose that drove her to fire on those massive Republic warships then, to protect her home. If things went bad, if they lost, all hope for advancement for her people would evaporate. Sanctions and federal jurisdictions would cripple her people's already failing economy. Property would be seized, farms stolen, lives destroyed. In the Confederacy she had the ability to prevent that. She'd put them in that position, it was the Separatists or doom for her people and her family and she would be the reason for either outcome. Now, here she was, putting the Bandomeeri government in the same position she'd been put in so many months ago.

"Fleet Admiral Der," her personal assistant droid greeted her standing at the desk in front of her office/living quarters, "Your conference transmission is prepared."

"Good, I'll take it in my office. Hold all alerts except for emergencies until we're done," she told the silver-plated droid.

"Yes Admiral," the droid responded in turn in its fine and pleasant tone.

She walked in and made sure to look in the mirror on the inside of her door. Her uniform needed to be smoothed over and her hair pulled back into its bun. For the sake of her call she felt as though a few dabs of makeup to disguise the bags under her eyes would not go amiss. She did so, and when she was satisfied Der walked into her office and went to the low table there and typed in the code to unlock her office computer and saw that her call was in a few moments. As she took a drink from a glass of water the beep came in. Knowing who it was Der rolled her shoulders back and took a breath.

"Connect transmission," she called out.

The images of the Bandomeer delegation, a Meerian, a short silver-haired man in politician's regalia, a middle-aged and grumpy-looking human wearing a green combat uniform with his rank on it. His was definitely the face of a man who wanted to take action, but wasn't allowed to. She knew Bandomeer's military capacity, their primary weapons were reasonably modern, their vehicles marginally modern, and their aircraft almost hopelessly outdated. But they had lots of them, military service was compulsory on Bandomeer, so she knew that they were now mobilized in some numbers. Those numbers were what she wanted.

"Prime Minister Miinstrus, thank you for taking the Confederacy up on its offer to engage in talks."

"Admiral, I do hope you can give us more than what has been offered by the Republic, for your forces' sake on our planet," the man responded with a semi-courteous nod.

"The Republic? Sir, the Republic is just doing to you what they did to my world. They claim to be saving you, when in reality, it's just another invasion. I've seen it before, and when Republic forces arrive, in particular the Republican Guard, they lay waste to everything they come across. Isn't that what has happened to your beloved capital? I've seen the reports, the Republic is decimating your city."

"Because your soldiers came, they made our city a target."

"Sir, Drexel isn't a politician, his priority is victory. To him and the Guard force is all the means they feel they need. The capital was going to be attacked either way. Your forces would have set up defensive postures like we did wouldn't they? The fact is my soldiers are dying as we speak to protect your people. The evacuations, the air defense network, all of it is to protect your people," Der responded, being firm and sincere.

"At the expense of our city, we're tallying…millions in damage!"

"And you're losing Admiral," the uniformed man, General J'Unnian, added, putting in his own input, "We've counted at least a hundred thousand Republic troops on the ground with almost as many in reserve. Your own troops are being pushed back, your fleet in orbit took losses and retreated."

"They won't be outnumbered. If…we can count on…eight hundred thousand troops, plus four thousand fighters, as many gunships, and perhaps twenty thousand vehicles," Der smirked, looking at the officer who narrowed his eyes at her.

"That…is the sum total of our forces, and at the moment it's closer seven hundred thousand, not eight, and half of our fighters aren't even flightworthy. Plus what chance in hell do we have taking on that fleet overhead with our Starchasers?" he snapped back, "Not only that, but we don't have heavy tanks, we don't have heavy artillery, and the Republic does!"

"But we do, we have lots of all of those," Der replied very confidently, "Along with investors, markets for your goods, and the willingness to let your people exist as they wish. Plus, our fleet, my forces in particular are growing at an incredible rate, our ranks swelling with people who have seen the destruction that the Republic can unleash."

"So is the Republican Guard, and they have a similar story."

"Sir, if I may ask, whose artillery is bombarding your capital? And whose soldiers are evacuating your civilian population?"

Location: Republic-Controlled Sector of Bandor, Planet Bandomeer

The sounds of thumping artillery stirred the two Confederate Patriot Forces soldiers who'd found themselves buried in the ruins of the lower wing of the mall. Dust enveloped them as the caved-in floors shook from each impact nearby. Corporal Zeere blinked away the dizziness that was encompassing his vision as he tried to move. But a bolt of pain went through his arm as he moved. He groaned loudly, grabbing for it as he felt the bloody bandage.

"Zeere" a whisper caught his attention.

"Teyyez?! Man am I glad to see you brother," the young NCO sighed as the shape of his assistant gunner slid down next to him, shining a flashlight down at him, and the shimmering of wet blood on Teyyez's leg caught Zeere's attention, "Your leg," he nodded.

"It's not mine," Teyyez said quietly and shook his head, waving his team leader down, then held up a Republican Guard data tablet, one that could only have been acquired from the enemy.

"Oh man how long have I been out?"

"Not much longer than me, I got you bandaged and the glass is out, no major damage."

"You bandaged and didn't give me pain killers? Asshole," Zeere sighed as he pulled out his own medkit and withdrew the syringe of painkiller and jabbed it right into the wound. The autoinjector gave him a shot of the potent chemical and Zeere sighed as he felt the pain go away.

"Well I guess you won't want to know that we're way behind enemy lines. In fact I just knifed an officer and took his tablet," he said as he proudly waved the device.

"How far?"

"Pretty far, about three klicks. There's an enemy field headquarters across the street, looks like a regimental HQ to me judging by the fact there's some unarmored officers walking around and they're setting up a field kitchen," Teyyez sighed as he sat down across from him and picked up a bag of jerkey liberated from the debris.

"Bastards, here we are making due with jerkey," Zeere chuckled.

"Wanna show them our displeasure?"

"Fek yeah. But first, the rest of the squad?"

"They're alive, I managed a quick connection with actual, he said stay alive and don't do anything stupid."

"Well, we're about to disobey that last part. But," Zeere said, taking the missile launcher and holding it up to his assistant gunner, "I think you'll have to take the shot."

"Yeah I was about to say," Teyyez nodded as he took the launcher and pulled off his pack, "Better switch these as well."

"Yeah."

The two got their packs switched and then stood up and Zeere stretched as he got to his feet on the unstable rubble. They didn't have much in the way of headroom, the floor had collapsed and was at an angle, the two had to pick their way through, mostly hugging walls that had stayed upright and had the ceiling and floor above making a tent over their heads. It was nearly pitch black outside, but the lights of the city itself were sending dusty beams of blue into their little rat maze. The two reached a body, a Republican Guard Marine officer, a female lieutenant whose white and red armor was glistening with a trail of blood from her neck where Teyyez had dispatched her.

The body was leaning on the wall well out of sight. Her short pixie cut brunette hair was messy and her eyes were closed, it looked as though she were just asleep. But the gash in her neck and the deathly pale on her face was evidence enough of that. Both of them looked at the girl who seemed to be just a kid, more than likely younger than both of them. It was different looking at their enemy when there was an actual face.

"The bucket officer?"

"Yeah. She was looking for something besides rations I guess. Tried capturing her but…she gave me no choice," Teyyez said as the two just looked at the body.

"It happens," Zeere whispered back and stepped over their dead opponent's legs.

"Well, anyway, the rest of the building is still standing, we won't have all that much concealment once we're out of here," Teyyez whispered as they got to where the light was much more prevalent.

"Got it, NVG's on, they might send someone to come looking for her."

The two got their goggles on and then stepped out, leveling their A280's down both sides of the hall that they were in. The two were alone except for a handful of destroyed droids and a pair of CPF soldiers' bodies.

"Friendlies down over here," Teyyez pointed out behind them.

"Check 'em for grenades," Zeere whispered, backing with him, aiming at the corner in the hall so no one caught them unaware.

Teyyez walked over and leaned down, checking the two bodies, and recognized them.

"Shit, I recognize them, it's two-two's squad leader and medic," Teyyez growled angrily, and yanked their tags in turn, "No grenades, no weapons, the buckets already picked 'em dry."

"Lieutenant!" a man's voice called out down the hall where Zeere was looking and he looked as a flashlight beam illuminated the side of the hall.

"Cover!" Zeere whispered and the two rushed into the far side of the hall where a clothes store was in front of them and they took cover in the aisles completely out of sight.

"Lieutenant?!" a second man's voice called out as they saw, from the flashlights' beams, that they were now no longer alone in this side hall, "Where are ya?"

"Her beacon says she's right here," the other enemy combatant noted as they drew closer.

"They're gonna find the body!" Teyyez realized.

"Oh shit," Zeere noted as he looked over the aisle's clothes racks, "We gotta take care of them."

"Well, we've got our bayonets," Teyyez suggested.

"Go ahead," Zeere said and withdrew his blade and attached it to his blaster as they saw the two Republican Guard Marines in their white and red armor in front of them, "We'll jump 'em when they turn their backs. Ready?"

"Set."

"Oh no," the first Marine said, looking into the hole in the rubble wall they'd come from, "She's in there."

"Think she just fell? Knocked out maybe?" the second said as they both started looking in.

"Or dead."

Zeere nodded to Teyyez and they both started stalking out into the hall, barely ten yards separating them from their opponents. The two had their shining durasteel vibroblades leveled, prepared to use them. At any moment their identically-armed opponents, could swing around and blow them away. The first of them looked inside the hole and stepped in while his battle buddy shined a flashlight from his rifle into the opening. They were completely silent, but to their own ears it sounded as though their own breathing and heartbeats were echoing in the stone, metal, and glass interior. As soon as the first Marine was fully within the rubble-created tunnel Teyyez and Zeere made their move.

Both of them rushed forward. Teyyez, with a solid thrust shoved his bayonet into the back of the neck of the Marine and shoved him forward, completely limp and dead. Zeere dove with his blade into the back of the other Marine, shoving the blade completely into the man's upper back and shoving them both forward onto the sloping ground. A scream from the young Marine sounded out and the man tried to reach around desperately to pull the blade out from his back. But Zeere was on him. He got to his knees straddling over the enemy and yanked the blade out and plunged it back into his back with a sickening crack as the bayonet sank all the way to the hilt, smacking armor on durasteel. This was met another screech of pain. Zeere did it again, and again, and the man stopped screaming. He hesitated as he saw him weakly just trying to reach in a vain and ineffective effort to get away. Knowing that it had to be done Zeere made one last plunge into the back of his opponent's head extinguished all life that was left.

Withdrawing the bayonet the young Separatist soldier fell back onto his side, looking at the bleeding body his legs were still on top of. It was different seeing as the color was in shades of green, but he knew. Yet, he couldn't quite grasp it, his head was engulfed in the thumping of his heart and the cacophony of his own breathing. Looking down at his weapon he saw blood dripping from his bayonet, and with shaking hands he pulled it off and, in a daze, wiped the blood off on his pant leg, now knowing how Teyyez had gotten blood on his own uniform.

Teyyez pulled the body of the other man into the hole as Zeere sat there in his daze.

"You okay Corporal?" Teyyez asked.

"It's different, doing it with a blade."

"Damn right. But hey, they'd have killed us, no hesitation."

"I know. And we're still not done," Zeere sighed and grabbed his weapon, "Now we have to kill a whole lot more."

Yeah I think this one's done. I've really been debating about having a scene like this but decided to include it. War's most devastating moment for most is the close kind, the kind where you kill with blades and bare hands if need-be. Seeing as I've never shied away from it in the past in other stories I figured it best not to stop now.

In terms of writing again I'm returning to some sort of groove, I've got my muse back, so hopefully I can get out quality chapters once more. Stand by for more, first I'll be getting "Building the New Rebellion" updated then my Haifuri fun fic then returning to this one, or not, depends on my muse at that given moment, as per usual.

Next Chapter Preview: The horror continues on Bandomeer, and Sato's shining moment arrives.