The First Contact War

by 1Ragnarok1

In 2621 a Galactic Republic vessel is found in the Orion Arm, this springboards the United Earth Government into a galaxy at the start of the Clone Wars. A war that will test the 2nd UEG Expeditionary Force as well as the UEG finding out where it fits in this new galaxy, and their new neighbours.

18. Operation Sandstorm

The First Contact War

Chapter 18

Operation Sandstorm

"God is not on the side of the Big Battalions, but on the side that shoots best" Voltaire.

2622 November 30th Earth Standard Calendar, Second Lieutenant Matt Patrick in geo-sync orbit over Geonosis on board the OAG Foley.

An orchestra of boots thumped and slapped against the tile floor as every able-bodied pilot and WSO of the OAG's 445th Tactical Fighter Squadron made haste towards the double-doors that led to the hanger. In the low-light the young crews worked to finish up the 12 Lightning's before they were needed. The Lightnings of Matt and his assigned flight, Longsword 2, were waiting nearest the path to the runway. He glanced over at his female compatriot, and then stopped her.

"Hey, Baroness." He said. The woman stopped and looked at him. He held out a hand.

"I'm counting on you." He said. They shook and exchanged grins.

"The same goes for me, best of luck to you, Patrick." She drawled.

He exchanged the same gesture with her Navy Air Arm back seater and went on his way towards 91-611. The aircrew's crew chief was waiting for them.

"They finally did it, didn't they sir?" He asked Henry. The lanky WSO's tone was blunt.

"They did, Chief. Is this thing ready to go?" He asked. His shorter and stockier pilot added to the confirmation with a simple nod.

"She is, sir. Both 99s checked out fine." Zablinski reported. Even so, the pilots still needed to inspect themselves.

Matt put his helmet bag and the HGU itself in his seat. He glanced at the stylized crown painted on the forehead of the piece, along with his call sign before lowering his feet back to the ground. Flashlight in hand, he turned around to give his plane a look-over.

The GBU-35 PaveWays had been hung under the wings in lieu of 610-gallon tanks. The glide bomb was a weapon Matt had rarely dropped, only twice in weapons training. Marshall was more knowledgeable on the thing, and Patrick was glad he would be the one who actually guided the thing while the pilot just dropped. Above them was a weapon he felt a much larger knowledge of: the AIM-90. They carried four of the AAMs, the inevitable LANTIRN pods, and an AN/AXQ-14 pod on the centerline to guide the GBU-35s.

Matt didn't doubt that his Lightning would get him home. It was a tough bird and boasted some of the best electronics for its mission (which had been kept in the best shape by the NCOs scurrying about the place). If he encountered any Geonosian fighters, he could fight or simply "eat dirt" by dropping down to the ground, where his Type-99's LANTIRN system would help him avoid crashing. The Geonosian fighters, which he knew lacked such a system, would be reluctant to follow, especially in the hills and mountains out here.

Even as he hauled himself back into his seat and accepted a pair of Night Vision Goggles (NVGs) in exchange for his helmet's visor, Matt noticed a disturbing quiet. Even once the man was strapped in and ready to go, there was still no apparent order to scramble, at least for them. The T-99s equipped for DCA were being put up as early as he'd ben inspecting his weapons. Finally, the radio came to life.

"Attention, Longsword 2, this is Foley Flight Control, you are ordered to scramble." A voice said with professional urgency.

"Roger that Tower, Longsword 2 copies all." McDale spoke up.

Matt and Henry's ground crew once again sprang into action to get the machine's engines started. Matt activated Night Vision on his visor and turned them on as the canopy secured itself over him. The darkness was bathed in a green that drowned out any other colours. Lights became bright blobs of white.

As the four T-99s taxied, other fighters from two of their sister squadrons, the 344th "Boomerangs" and 293rd "Mongooses", armed with identical loadouts, were being called up. The taxing process was expedited as much as safely possible to get the jets airborne. Matt had to admit; even now he still couldn't feel danger.

"Longsword 2, switch to Strike Frequency for tasking." The control tower ordered once the flight was collected and out of the pattern. Matt reached down and switched frequencies as the four aircraft levelled out at began to orbit the Gladiator I-class Star Destroyer.

"Go for Longsword 2 on Strike." Chip McDale radioed.

"Longsword 2, this is Gatekeeper, stay in orbit above Foley and standby for SITREP." The commanding voice of a controller aboard a Vigil-class corvette of the 188th Airborne Air Control Squadron said. Matt looked his left shoulder over at Valentina, who gave him a shrug. The voice came back.

"About half an hour ago, the Geonosians and OAG clashed in several skirmishes in orbit, and Geonosians strike aircraft began making attacks on radar ships and Army transports near the moon. Orders have come down for a pre-emptive strike to cut off what routes into the initial OAG landing zone we can. You guys one of the flights armed with GBU-35s?"

"Roger that." Longsword 2-1's pilot said.

"Okay, we're giving you guys the Ceemire Bridge to cut. The bridge has two parts, each consisting of a two-lane highway over a deep gorge. We believe the Geonosians may try to push troops across it if they can secure it and the airspace around it, given they try to push into landing Zone. It's a big sucker so make your GBUs count. A flight of six T-99s, call sign "Yellow Jacket", will be providing top cover. If need be we'll see what else we can send your way, how copy?" the man aboard the corvette outlined.

"Longsword 2 copies all."

Henry did his WSO magic and looked to the front at Matt.

"Okay Longsword, listen up, we'll attack in twos on going from South to North. I'll go first, and 2-2 will cover me. 2-3, you'll go in first and 2-4 will watch you." The flight lead outlined speedily.

For once Matt was surprisingly glad not be under the moniker of Longsword 2-2.

"Which span goes to whom, sir?" He asked.

"Longsword 2-1 and 2-2 will take the northernmost span, 2-3 and 2-4 will take the other. Wait until me and 2-2 have delivered our ordnance, understand?"

"Longsword 2-3 copies all."

"Longsword 2-4 copies all."

Matt peered through his NVGs into the inky darkness. The four T-99s were the only aircraft in immediate sight. There were no Type-0 Zeros or SA10C Thunderbolts, just the quad of strikers. He looked at his radar and checked his RWR panel often, waiting for some sign of other aircraft, friendly or hostile. On order from Longsword 2-1, the four machines separated into two-ships four miles apart. Matt kept an eye on Valentina's Lightning as they banked right in perfect formation towards the gorge. Matt selected the AIM-90s for the time being and set his radar's range to the maximum.

"Marshall, how are you holding up back there?" he asked over the Internal Comms System out of dislike for the silence.

"I'm still breathing, how about you, Patrick?" the familiar voice replied.

"First combat hop, kinda wanting to get some action." The front-seater replied.

"I heard that." Henry agreed.

"Baroness, how about you?" the brunette added.

"I'm fine Prince." She replied simply. Matt's gaze rotated in various directions until more chatter came onto the radio.

"Longsword 2, this is Yellow Jacket Lead, we're taking up position to your west. AWACS hasn't allowed us to press into Geonosian air space yet, so we won't be able to spot any contacts out at long range, how copy?" the voice of an T-99 driver spoke up. That didn't sit well with Glory Hound McDale.

"AWACS, why isn't Yellow Jacket cleared to press into Geonosian airspace?"

"We haven't gotten it from the higher ups, apparently they're all still asleep." The control replied dryly. It evoked a few snickers on the electronic waves.

"Alright, alright that's enough. Longsword 2-3, 2-4, break off and wait for my signal to start your run. Longsword 2-2, go high and cover me." The flight lead ordered.

Matt pulled the stick to the left and eased back the throttles. His T-99 dove from fifteen thousand to around eleven thousand feet, Longsword 2-4 still with him.

"Okay Marshall, how're our weapons systems doing?" Matt asked.

"Nothing bad on my end." The Lieutenant replied.

Patrick switched one of his MPDs to a map and looked back out at the ground. He recognized the moonlit shimmer on the Gerunte River, one of the few sources of water on the planet. Out front he saw Longsword 2-1 and 2-2 racing on ahead. McDale's Lightning made a bank towards the water, while the plane of Keller and his WSO, Louie-Louie, went on a straight course above the water. Under Matt's leadership, he and Valentina kept on their course so they'd pass the bridge, swing around and head south before hitting their targets, hopefully just after the other two made their runs

"Gatekeeper, what's our picture?" Matt asked in near unison with the leader of the T-99 CAP.

"Still clear, Longsword and Yellow Jacket."

"Roger that, Longsword 2-1 is at IP, going in hot!" the major bellowed…

"Uhm…Longsword 2-1, I'm not seeing a second hit on your run." Hangman reported. It evoked a painful silence.

"Repeat your last, 2-2?" Chip asked, a little irked.

"Your second GBU fell long of the target, Louie-Louie watched it on his FLIR pod. Other one hit, but your second bomb fell long." The captain repeated calmly.

Matt clamped down his lips to contain a laugh. McDale would already be fired up at his WSO about missing, no need to draw attention. He looked towards the bridge again and then at Henry through his mirrors. They exchanged nods as they waited for McDale to say something. But he only ordered Keller and Louis to drop their weapons. They waited still as he went in and hit the span McDale missed. The Major said little as he reported he was climbing up to keep a watch out for any threats.

"Longsword 2-1 here, 2-3 and 2-4, can you make a run soon?" He finally said in a flat tone.

"Yes sir, is any part of the bridge still intact?" Matt spoke up. Hangman answered that point.

"Still got a good part and several places where the hole is narrow enough to lay a bridge. Should be plenty to drop."

"Roger that. Longsword 2-3 and 2-4 are going in hot, we'll make one run each." He declared.

"Roger that, make it quick." Glory Hound snapped. Matt looked at Baroness.

"2-4, circle around once I've dropped my GBUs and try and put yours on target soon as I do, how copy?" He said with a firm voice.

"Roger that 2-3, good luck."

Matt dove down and pulled into a steep right bank, bringing his nose around to heading 180 and 9000 feet. In the back, Marshall waited to slew the targeting pod towards the bridge. As he relaxed his knees from the turn, he spotted the beaten-up structure on the display and began to lock it for the bombs, deciding to go with direct mode on the. In the front, Matt's eyes swivelled to every corner of his green-tinted vision. He kept the T-99 in a moderate throttle setting, ready to hit the gas anytime if their Sentry came on the horn with bandits. After he reported hitting his IP, he made the call one last time as the seconds ticked by and Marshall relayed his progress.

"Picture still clear." The controller reported.

"Roger that. Marshall?" Matt asked.

"Hang on…hang on…she's locked! Drop em!" the man howled. Matt felt his blood rush as he pressed the stores release twice.

"Longsword 2-3, pickle, pickle." He said calmly.

The two GBUs fell away and guided towards the coordinates, freeing their mothership to pull away and go into military power. The made no sound whatsoever as they fell down from so far above terra firma. Inside the cockpit, Matt and Marshall watched the countdowns on their HUD and display, respectively. Cool sweat began to form in the pilot's hair as he waited. Three…two…one…

"Good hits, good hits!" Valentina reported, unable to hide the small bit of enthusiasm.

"No shit?!" Matt asked, looking over his shoulder.

"No shit!" His friend echoed.

The pilot guided his strike fighter to the left and strained for a view of Baroness and Moose as they made their runs. His machine felt much lighter compared to when it was weighed down with the bombs. As Valentina expended her weapons, things seemed to ratchet up with little hesitation at that point.

"Gatekeeper has an eye on bogeys. One group, count four. Heading 079, 120 miles at Angels 18." The AWACs updated.

"Roger that Gatekeeper, instructions?" Yellow Jacket lead boomed with vigor. Another pause.

"Yellow Jacket, you are authorized to engage if the bogeys fire or come within 30 miles of the border."

"Longsword 2-4, what's your status?" McDale spoke up.

"Standby, 2-1." Moose said. a second later the Shanxi pilot called "pickle" and let off her weapons. Matt swung to the west and looked out for the flashes. They came, and he relayed the good news to her.

"Okay 2-4, back on me, let's re-join 2-1 and 2-2." Matt said.

"Roger that 2-3." Valentina radioed, guiding her T-99 into a climb. Matt levelled out and ambled north again as he tried to catch up with the other Lightnings when Gatekeeper's voice came on again.

"Second group of bogeys spotted, count 068, 90 miles at Angels 17."

"Roger that Gatekeeper, what about the first group?" Yellow Jacket Lead said with a little less enthusiasm.

"Still approaching on the same heading at the same Angels, greater speed. Looks like Nantex starfighter."

Matt noted that his RWR was alert now and he went to A/A mode, setting the APG-70 to Range While Scan. He looked back and saw Valentina sliding into position off his left wing. She threw up a peace sign and he nodded.

"Longsword 2-1, 2-3 and 2-4 are joining you now." He said.

"Roger that." McDale replied.

He spotted two shapes high above and gently yanked the Lightning into a climb. The RWR's tone changed as the unfriendly radars that were present began to start directing their eyes at the Wing mates. Matt gulped and gritted his teeth.

"I'm spiked here, Baroness?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah they're tracking me too." She answered.

The beeping changed and became more aggressive, more frantic. McDale bellowed at their controller to let the escort leave its CAP tracks to their west and engage the bogeys, but it was becoming clearer to everyone that war wasn't official in effect yet. That or the folks in Command were still desperately trying to employ the olive branch. Finally, the RWR reached its apex of panic, and Matt's HUD changed to a blood-red tone as the buzz went steady.

"Longsword 2-3's been fired on, 2-4, break formation!" Matt called.

The two T-99s went in separate directions and Patrick banked right, and then snapped up into a fast climb to get some room. Henry kept his eyes towards Geonosian airspace, straining to see the enemy missiles. Soon enough he spotted a pair of dots at their four o' clock.

"Visual on two AAMs, four o' clock. Pump chaff." He said, keeping his voice calm and controlled.

Matt let off a burst of chaff as he rolled inverted and dove, spraying the strips of aluminium all over the sky. The tone kept up its audial assault and Matt stole a glance towards the incoming threats. He rolled again and tried to out-turn the weapons, get outside their vision and make them lose track, or if they were being guided by their aircraft, jink so violently he slipped out of lock.

The game continued as Matt slammed the throttle airborne and brought the nose of his Lightning around to the sky left of the incoming.

"Marshall?" he asked under the strain of Gs.

"Keep it up; I think they're losing us." Henry replied.

He saw the dots were getting bigger, their plumes of fiery exhaust burning brightly through his NVGs. He saw no one else, though the radio was alive as the fighter-model Lightnings were getting clearance to attack the incoming bandits. He heard that the second group of six was apparently a group of Lightnings. The sentence tumbled to the back of his mind as Henry reported the weapons were still closing, though they were falling behind now. Matt dared a glance back as they passed and the RWR returned to tell him about the unfriendly radars. The missiles, a pair of AA-9s, seemed far too big to be an air-to-air missile, even bigger than the T-99s Phoenix from where he was. Shanxi made some weird things…Shanxi…Valentina! In all the excitement he'd nearly forgotten her.

"Baroness?" he radioed.

"I'm alive Patrick, worry about yourself for once." She replied flatly. He realized how many time he'd uttered the line during this sortie.

"Heh heh, roger that." He corrected himself with.

"Yellow Jacket, group two is pushing into Geonosian airspace, group one is withdrawing. Go get em Yellow Jacket." Gatekeeper interrupted.

"Roger that. Longsword, try and withdraw West, we'll deal with the bandits."

"Where are they Gatekeeper? How far away?" Matt asked. His T-99's systems answered that for him.

Once again Matt went on the defensive as his APG-70 detected a pair of threats coming from the same general direction the missiles he'd just evaded. Out of the frying pan he thought as he reversed his turn.

"Marshall, talk to me here." He radioed.

"I think I've got two visuals; they should be coming into your view soon at your two o' clock high." The backseater relayed.

Matt looked out as he reversed again and saw the shape of a Nantex Starfighter as it banked at him from above. His bigger and heavier T-99 was at a disadvantage, though pilot's pride wasn't about to let him play the role of helpless strike aircraft. He was flying a Lightning. He selected his AIM-90s and heard their familiar tone.

"Yellow Jacket, where the hell are you guys?!" The pilot demanded nonetheless as he looked at the Geonosian fighter and started thinking in terms of air-to-air.

"Hang on, Longsword; we're getting a handle on things." A far calmer voice assured.

Henry was turned as far back as he could be, keeping an eye on the bandit as it worked to match Matt's manoeuvres. The pilot was more than happy to display the edge in manoeuvrability he had, but Matt was already going into afterburner as he exited his turn. The Geonosian climbed and began to pull into a loop at high speed. The Nantex naturally followed and Henry turned around again.

"Longsword 2-4, I'm engaged defensive, can you assist?" Matt spoke up as he pulled back on the stick more.

"Roger that 2-3, I'm trying for a shot. Standby!" Valentina assured.

Matt looked around as he reached the top of the loop and spotted another Lightning bearing up at the two fighters a few miles away. A light went off under its left wing and he heard a familiar voice bellow "Longsword 2-4, Fox 2!". As she did, the T-99 increased its speed and flew under them, allowing Patrick and Marshall a few seconds as the Geonosian defended against the missile.

"Visual, second Nantex, coming at you, 2-4." Marshall said.

"Roger, we see it." Moose replied.

The Nantex chasing Matt and Henry had been forced to give up the chase, and almost in unison they spotted two more familiar shapes.

"Longsword, the cavalry's here, bug out towards your home, we got these guys." Another voice piped up.

Matt transitioned from a loop to a barrel roll to level out, the OAG fighter going the opposite direction as he (and soon his wingman) dealt with the incoming Geonosian fighters.

"Don't let him get away, 1-3! Don't let him get away!" his wingman shouted as the two chased after the Geonosian. Meanwhile Matt dropped the Lightning to 10,000 feet and adjusted the power into a smooth cruise so his wing woman could catch up. He took a breath for what felt like the first time since he'd called out he was rolling in hot. But he felt no fear…he only felt a stark realization of mortality.

---

2622 December 13th Earth Standard Calendar, CDR. Luke Sparrow in geo-sync orbit over Geonosis exiting the OAG Megalodon on board a Warbird.

The Warbird thundered through the atmosphere. The dull grey hull of the Warbird was illuminated by each strike of lightening that lit the vast desert area. The noise created by the two giant engines that powered the Warbird were almost muted as the storm ravaged the entire sea. The ride was bumpier than anyone may have liked, but having the storm to cover their approach helped calm everyone's nerves knowing the giant Warbird was flying almost silently in the storm.

As the eight Warbirds raced towards the Geonosian surface at two-hundred and fifty knots, Luke, situated in the cargo bay of the craft was deep in thought. Even with the ear-buds in his ears, the drone of the engines mixed with the rushing wind and rain created a cacophony of noise. Still, he tried to tune this out and instead, focused on running through the mission plan in his head; he was on his seventh run through.

Luke was envisioning the approach to the airfield and which buildings his team was assigned with neutralizing, when his eyes shot open after he was hit on the shoulder. He groggily blinked several times as he adjusted to the red lighted interior and looked to his right, where Hex was sitting. What, Luke mouthed as he looked at the Sergeant.

Hex leaned in and shouted into Luke's ear, "You got any Fuel?"

That question caused Luke to roll his eyes in disgust, "You woke me up for that?"

"Yeah, come on man, just a few to keep me awake in this damned bird," Hex begged.

"Goddamn it," Luke grumbled as he reached underneath the red cargo netting seat to his bag. After retrieving a small bottle, he shook out several small capsules and handed them to Hex, "No more of this shit till after the op."

"Thanks Luke," Hex said with a huge grin before she swallowed the pills.

Luke put the bottle back into the bag and slid it underneath the netting before closing his eyes and returning to his thoughts. Instead of focusing on the mission, he now thought about how wired Hex was going to be since taking that damn Ripped Fuel. If Luke hadn't confiscated the bottle from her back on Courascant, Hex would be going through a bottle and a half each day. No one wanted that, especially not Luke who was going to have to deal with the hyped up Sergeant talking his ear off. Luke reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a black iPod which he spun his thumb along the wheel, turning the volume all the way up, which didn't seem like much due to the other noises surrounding him. The last thing Luke remembered was a song from the Killers called Human playing before he was asleep.

An hour later, Luke was awoken by movement around the cargo bay. The Marines of 2nd Platoon were rising from their seats and grabbing gear and equipment that they had stashed. Luke reached and grabbed his bag which he slid out onto the metal floor of the Warbird. He unclipped his M416 from the strap and slung it over his shoulder before heaving the bag onto his back. Throughout the bay of the Warbird, the other Marines were going through the same motions. Each looked like a stone cold trained killer, which is exactly what they were, the red lighting only added to the eerie effect. The ramp began to lower, blowing in a mist of sand that showered the men. Marines began walking towards the ramp in two lines, at the end taking a plunge into the desert below them. Luke felt sorry for the Geonosians they were about to go visit, they were about to be taught a hard lesson about not screwing with the OAG and that lesson was going to be dealt swiftly by two companies of MARSOC and Delta Force operators.

The sounds of rocks skidding along the sandy-rocky terrain had become a constant noise, even though Luke tried to avoid it at all costs. The desert floor was ripe with rocks, sand clumps, anything that could make a noise, was on the ground waiting for the Marines to step on and give away their position in the darkness. Hex led the team forward through the forest, aided by a set of night vision goggles that each member had. The off-shade green created an eerie feel as they quietly traversed the lifeless desert.

Throughout the surrounding area, other squads were advancing on parallel axis that would take them straight to the CIS airfield. The squads, if everything continued as planned, should be at the airfield perimeter within twenty minutes. The one good news, was that the storm which had hampered them on the flight in, was catching up to the Marines on the land, the rain beginning to slowly drop down from the sky. But before the main part of the storm engulfed the region in a downpour that was predicted, a sharp noise quickly echoed through the forest. A noise that was the last thing that Luke wanted to hear. A single loud snap echoed through the forest, stopping the Marines dead in their tracks. Luke quickly moved the several meters to Hex's side and the two crouched.

"The fuck was that Hex," Luke snapped in a low voice, assuming that Hex had given away the squad's position.

"Um, that wasn't me big guy," Hex replied as she scanned in front of her.

The response spooked Luke, who thought the noise had come from Hex being careless. Luke raised his left hand in the air, made a fist, then waved his hand side to side, signalling to the Marines behind him to spread out in a line formation. The Marines quietly moved into a wedge formation and began searching in front of them for the source of the noise.

Desperately searching the woods for movement in the dimly lit green landscape, Luke finally saw some motion in the distance. He raised his M416 and looked down the scope, spotting to his horror four Geonosian soldiers walking through the woods on a path that would take them just in front of Luke and his men.

Luke turned to his left and looked down the row of Marines to Bowren, who had appeared several meters away. Luke raised his left hand and four fingers rose into the air, covered by the black gloves he wore. Luke could see Bowren acknowledge his message, the NVG set Bowren wore moved up and down. The message was quickly and silently passed along the line of Marines and they were ready as the Geonosians approached them.

Luke drew his sight on the lead Geonosian, a portly bug with what looked to be a rugged beard. He gripping what looked to be a blaster or some variant of the ever deadly weapon. As the group of Geonosians passed a final grouping of rocks, they came into a clearing from the rock spires which was ten meters in front of the Marines. Luke took a deep breath, steadied his body, and fired.

The M416 coughed out three rounds, the gunshots suppressed by a silencer that was attached to the end of the barrel. The three rounds caught the Geonosian in the cheek and neck, sending him spinning to the ground. The sudden shock of seeing their comrade fall caused the remaining Geonosians to pause their movements for a second; this pause proved fatal as fire from the other Marine guns hit their targets. All four Geonosians were lying dead on the ground in less than five seconds from the first shot. Luke waved his arm forward, sending Bowren and his fireteam towards the dead Geonosians to search their bodies.

"Well that was close," Hex whispered to Luke.

"Damn right it was," Luke said angrily, "Thought that Ripped Fuel was supposed to keep you alert and shit."

"Dude, don't blame the Fuel," Hex said flipping her head to her left to see the green impression of Luke's face, "Those guys were ninjas sneaking up here like that."

"Well those 'ninjas' could have whacked us if we kept following your retarded ass."

Riley appeared at Luke's side, hearing the conversation between the two and deciding to join and voice his opinion, "Looks like someone's a little cranky this morning."

"That's what I'm saying," Hex pleaded with a smirk, "If you need to go have a CJ before we hit the airfield to calm the nerves, just let us know, we can spare thirty seconds."

The three Marines all laughed, letting off a massive amount of tension that had been building inside each one of them and maxed with this short ambush. Luke radioed Saber Two that they had made contact with Geonosian forces, the engagement was noted by Burris. Bowren waved at the team after several minutes and the squad continued moving forward towards the airfield, the storm now coming into full force as a wall of rain began to blanket the area, soaking the team.

lasers snapped at the ground and through the air as Luke and his team buried themselves behind the trench wall. The screeching sound of rockets roared over their position, the constant sound of shouts and gunfire lingering in the morning air. The Geonosians were trying to break through to the besieged weapons factory and retake the airfield.

"Fuck me," Hex shouted as a nearby explosion from a rocket sent her to her back, showering her body with sand.

"keep shooting Hex," Luke snapped at Hex in between two bursts from his M416.

After shouting at him, Luke ignored Hex who was on his back in the trench and focused on firing. The recently promoted staff sergeant looked as though he should be in one of those big budget Hollywood action movies. Standing in the trench, leaning his 6'5" frame against the wall, while taking aim at the advancing droid forces, Luke looked invincible. The difference however between Luke and the movie stars was that this was real. Real plasma was zipping across the battlefield, each one potentially deadly as they raced downrange. Real sweat that drenched Luke's short brown hair underneath his helmet. Real sand that was cemented against his face, mixed with his own sweat and the real blood of his fellow Marines; there was nothing fake about this. However, with all the confusion and chaos that was happening around him, Luke kept his cool, and focused on his mission, which was to hold this position.

As Hex gazed up through the smoke at her team leader firing, a thought crossed her mind that was as random as could be at a time such as this. Hex wished that she had a camera on her so that he could quickly take a picture of Luke. Something about Luke at that moment was awe-inspiring, which reminded Hex of a picture taken many, many years or so ago on an island in the middle of the Pacific that was still pretty awe-inspiring to this day. Hex figured that if she had a picture of Luke; a filth-ridden battle hardened Marine firing at enemies through a thin smoke haze, that she might be able to trade that picture to a certain female Galactic News Network reporter for a; well, it would be a hell of a trade for Hex and the reporter probably wouldn't mind winning a Pulitzer Prize for Photography. But this was all just a quick thought that Hex had and was gone in a matter of seconds.

"Hex get your ass on the line now," Luke shouted as he ducked behind the trench wall and slid a new magazine into his rifle.

Hex looked around and realized that she was the only one still lying on the sandy ground. His momentary day dream made her look like an ass in front of the team, but more importantly, took one more Marine rifle off of the line fighting against the droids.

---

Seven Hours Later

Hex quickly scrambled to her feet and rested her AC-160 against the trench as she added her worth to the gun battle. Through the grey haze, she spotted three droids darting forward a hundred meters away. Aimed fire from both Hex and Luke downed the droids in seconds, but as they fell, dozens of droids appeared from the sandy landscape. Crashing through the dunes also appeared a CIS AAT, it's deadly cannon traversing the area spilling hot laser from the barrel onto the Marine positions.

"Two-One Bravo, be advised, enemy AAT two hundred meters at your one o'clock," Luke shouted as he keyed the LASH headset.

Fifty meters to the left of Luke also hunkered inside the trench, was Sergeant Jendry and his four mandalorian man team from the Jendry clan. After finding the enemy AAT which was sitting on the edge of the woods firing it's cannon at the Marines below, one of the Mandalorians on the team retrieved the Javelin missile system. The man portable launcher was even lighter and more deadly in its Mark XV form, and that lethality was about to be put to use. After receiving a good tone from the system, the MAndalorian fired and the warhead soared into the air in an arcing flight that took it straight into the turret of the AAT. The resulting fireball lit the early morning sky as shards of the AAT were sent in all directions. No sooner had the smoke trail of the Javelin disappeared, that a dozen rockets and small arm rounds cascaded into Two-One Bravo's position.

"Good shit Jendri," Luke shouted approvingly of the wreckage burning in front of him.

It seemed that for every droid killed, two more appeared from the surrounding dunes. Unfortunately, this was not the case for the Marine companies that were under fire. There were no reinforcements to replace the Marines that were killed today.

After what was only several minutes since the destruction of the AAT, but what seemed an eternity for the Marines, Luke noticed that they were running low on ammunition. This added to the fact that the droids were slowly, but steadily advancing on their position gave Luke a cause for concern.

"Saber Two, Two-One, how copy?"

After several seconds, a reply was heard, "Solid copy Two-One, send it."

"Things are getting pretty hairy down here," an rocket streaked over the trench and exploded behind the team showering them in dirt, "We're getting low on ammo and the droids are taking ground, over."

"Roger that Two-One, wait one over," after thirty seconds, Saber Two came back, "Two-One, Two, still with us, over?"

"Roger that, what's the SITREP, over?"

"Saber has ordered all elements to fall back into the compound, regroup and consolidate on our position ASAP, Two out."

Luke motioned for the three Marines to get close, "Saber wants us to fall back, use the trenches for cover," Luke said looking at each Marine, "Hex, Riley, you're up."

The two Marines darted off down the trench back into the compound. After traveling twenty meters, the two stopped, turned, and provided cover for the other two, as the four Mandalorians bounded quickly back to the compound. As this was happening, a net call went out to the entire company recalling the Marines from their positions in the trenches.

As Luke roadie ran through the trenches, keeping his head down and out of the line of enemy fire, he heard a warning of an enemy tank through his headset. He ignored this warning and kept running. As he found a good firing position in the trench, he turned to cover Hex and Riley as they moved to regroup with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke noticed the hulking form of a AAT. At the same moment Luke saw the tank, a large flash emanated from the tank's barrel.

A shell from the tank streaked from the barrel and into the control tower that towered over the compound. Debris, glass, and concrete were all pushed outward as the shell exploded on impact, collapsing the top portion of the tower in a giant bloom of fire that lit the sky.

As Hex raced past Luke, he dropped behind the trench next to the him, "Shit, didn't Alpha have guys up there."

It was true, the Marine force had just lost more men that were sorely needed as the droid onslaught advanced on them now with armour support. Luke and the team hustled back into the compound interior and met with Two-One Bravo and the rest of Saber Two; at least, the Marines of Saber Two that made it through the fight so far.

"ROCKET!" Hex yelled as he dove towards Luke, tackling the him to the ground as a rocket buzzed by the squad.

The resulting explosion showered the Marines in dust as the tarmac on the runway was shattered from the blast. Gunfire cracked over their heads as they scrambled behind the cover of fifty-five gallon drums and several crates that were stacked next to the hangar.

"Thanks Hex," Luke said as he pushed Hex off of him, "But that's all you're getting from me this trip."

The two operators peered over the crates and found the source of the rocket a mere fifty meters away. Luke drew a bead on the Geonosian as he tried to race behind whatever cover remained in the charred landscape surrounding the airfield. Luke quickly pulled the trigger twice, sending two 7.62 mm rounds downrange that struck the Geonosian, sending him toppling over into the ground. Luke fired an additional round into the Geonosian's chest for good measure before he ducked behind the crate as Geonosians and droids returned fire at the Marines.

"Saber Two, Two-One, we're being pushed back," Luke calmly said into the LASH headset, " Sepi's inside the perimeter, how copy?"

The reply that came through the headset was accompanied by sounds of gunfire from Saber Two's position, "Two copies, hold 'em off Two-One, CAS should be in the sky any minute, out."

"Roger that, Two-One out," Luke said before he looked around at the Marines firing around him and shouted to them, "Push the Tinnies back boys, air support should be here any minute."

With that, Luke leaned up over the crate and found more CIS targets as he emptied the last several rounds of his magazine. Before he ducked back down behind the cover, he saw another AAT appear over a hill a hundred meters away with additional droid infantry advancing alongside it.

Before he could have opened his mouth, Bowren already was shouting at his team, "Take that bitch out," the Texan yelled.

One of the lance corporals quickly loosened an 84 mm HEAT round from an AT12, the rocket penetrating the armour of the AAT like a knife through butter, sending a fireball skyward and knocking the droids around the AAT to the ground. The burning carcass of the AAT continued to roll forward down the hill towards the tarmac, causing Geonosians caught in it's path to dive out of the way or risk being crushed by a fiery beast.

This small victory was quickly cut short by the cry of one of Bowren's men. A round struck the lance corporal in the collar bone, severing an artery, sending him to the grey tarmac, staining it red with his blood that was pouring out of the wound. One of the Marines next to him quickly dropped down to assist his teammate, but was also struck by a round from the droid guns.

"Simon pull him back here," Luke shouted as he saw the carnage that unfolded in front of his eyes.

Riley worked his way to the second Marine that had been hit and dragged him from the line of fire back behind better cover. The first Marine struck in the collar bone had already died from a mass blood loss, the evidence pooling around his body after each second that passed.

"We gotta CASEVAC him now Luke," Riley shouted to Luke after tearing off the wounded Marines armour to see the entrance wound.

What Riley didn't say, was that the Marine needed to be evacuated or else he was going to die. The trouble was, there was no way to CASEVAC him, and this was certainly not the place to perform a surgery even if they had the necessary supplies. The brutal truth, was that the squad had just lost two men in the matter of seconds.

---

Seven hours prior

"Two this is Two-One, we are in position on the perimeter, over," Luke said as the squad had finally reached their destination.

"Copy Two-One, proceed on mission, out."

"Two-One copies," Luke said before turning to Hex, "Hex clip it."

From the rocky area that the squad was lying, hex rose up from the sandy ground and hustled to the chain link fence that separated the squad from the airfield. Removing a set of wire-cutters from her bag as she ran, Hex began the task of clipping the fence to allow the two teams to silently slip into the airfield. He hoped there were no security features on the wire, but from what they had observed, the fence was the only thing blocking them.

Luke watched Hex clip the fence that was ten meters in front of the other Marines. Her figure barely visible through the night vision, obstructed by the torrential rain that had begun falling across the region. The Marines remained almost invisible as they laid on the wet, soaking ground, only appearing for a brief moment as lightening stuck every so often. Luke remained still as Hex cut the wire, the water running off his helmet and NVG set to the ground.

After about ninety seconds, the fence was cut, and Hex was the first to slip into the airfield. Luke waved his arm forward signaling to the six other Marines with him to move forward to the slip in the fence. Throughout the airfield's perimeter, over fifteen other squads of Marines were going through the same procession of infiltrating the airfields fence protection. After Luke worked his way through the fence, he was forced to look up to work his bag through the opening, and was able to see the faint lights of the control tower in the distance as well as several other floodlights that illuminated the tarmac and the silhouettes of the Nantex fighters that were the target of this raid.

"Let's move, let's move," Luke urged as Bowren, the last man, made it through the slip in the fence.

The eight Marines split into their two teams as they began advancing across the airfield, crossing over one of the two runways that lined the base. Only several landing lights were on when they crossed, due to no aircraft currently in the air at 3:00 am in one of the worst storms to hit the area in the probably ever if the barren wasteland that was Geonosis. After crossing the first runway, Luke stopped the squad in a ditch that was between the two runways. The ditch was a low spot in a seventy meter split that separated the runways, one of them running parallel to the hangars and control tower and the second, which they had crossed, running at a sixty-degree angle from the first, forming a sort of Vee shape.

As the Marines waited on the ground, Luke could see their targeted building, a blockhouse that was located in the runway split the squad was in. This building was allegedly the fuel pumping station for the airfield, which seemed plausible because of the pipes that ran out of the building.

"Two, Two-One, we are in position, waiting final go from Saber, copy?"

"Copy that Two-One," Luke knew that on the other side of the building, a squad being led by Burris were waiting for the go orders from Saber Actual to begin the assault.

So they waited in the cold rain for five gut wrenching minutes, always on the lookout for that one Geonosian that would appear from nowhere and alert the entire base to their presence. When the go code was finally passed down, Luke and the team exploded up from their position and began advancing on the two story building that sat between both runways. Sixteen Marines were assaulting this building alone, which only had seven Geonosians occupying it, five of which were fast asleep in their bunks on the second floor.

The Marines stacked up on the door that would lead them into the building. Hex was the first one next to the door, waiting for Luke to give the command to breach.

"Two, we're in position," Luke whispered keying the LASH headset as he poked his head up and glanced into the window.

On the inside of the building, Luke could see a dimly lit room, with several lights illuminating the ground floor. Two Geonosians were sitting at a table in the opposite corner of the door and were huddled around a small television screen. No other activity was happening in the room as Luke quickly surveyed the interior.

"Two in the far corner," Luke whispered in Hex's ear as he ducked beneath the window.

"I hear ya," Hex acknowledged, moving her head slightly back.

Over the headset came Saber Two, "We're in position, killing power in, three, two, one."

With that, the lights that shown out the window above Luke's head was immediately killed as the building went dark. Luke smacked Hex's right shoulder which sent the Sergeant into action. Hex pushed herself up from her crouched position next to the door quickly yanked the handle down, and whipped the door outwards in the other direction before getting out of the frame of the door.

As Hex swung the door open, Luke was already on his feet rushing into the opening. His night vision goggles aided him in the now darkened building. Spotting the spot where the two Geonosians were, he quickly fired at them as he moved left once he was through the door, allowing Riley and the remaining members of the squad to enter the building.

The first Geonosian was struck by rounds from Luke's M416 as he was pushing himself out of the seat that was behind the desk. The round struck him in his chest, and that was quickly followed by an additional several rounds that tore into his unprotected chest and neck. Blood from exit wounds splattered the wall behind him but weren't visible in the darkness. The second Geonosian was caught by plasma from both Luke and Riley as he tried to reach for his blaster that was laying on the desk in front of him. His body slumped forward and he died lying over his weapon, blood staining the metal barrel.

This entire encounter was over without making any loud noises, as the Marine weapons were tipped with sound suppressors and the Geonosians weren't even able to shout for help before they were cut down in a hail of fire. The remaining Marines from the squad entered the building before the last cartridges had finished rattling on the cement floor.

"Clear," Luke whispered to the Marines.

"Clear here," Riley announced as he finished scanning the room.

Luke released his hold of the M416 and raised his left hand to key the LASH, "Two bottom floor is cleared, we are moving upstairs, copy?"

From outside the building, the other squad was covering the area around the building, encase of any Geonosians trying to escape or any coming to assist their comrades.

"Two-One, Two copies," Burris said over the radio, "All quiet out here, make it quick, we got other objectives to move on."

"Two-One copies, be with you in a moment," Luke finished before pointing towards the stairwell that led to the upper floor.

The Marines moved towards the stairwell and began to quietly creep up them, not knowing what lie ahead and not wanting to announce their presence to any waiting Geonosians. They moved up the steps in a set formation, staggered lines on each sides of the stairwell, thus exposing only one man to fire from either side at a time.

Hex led the squad up the stairs quietly, watching her footing as she silently crept up the stairs. He could hear no movement or noise coming from his front, which he couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing. Hex saw the end of the stairwell mere meters in front of her, and took a gulp as he prepared for anything.

The second floor of the building was nothing more than several cots and lockers that were used by the men who operated the facility. The five Geonosians who were on the second floor were all fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that their comrades below them had been cut down moments before in a hail of gunfire.

The room was momentarily lit up by lightening that struck near the facility. With this momentary light, the silhouettes of the Marines could be seen as they silently moved about the room. One Marine moved to each cot that held a sleeping Geonosian. On Luke's signal, the silence was broken by shouts from the Marines and the rustling of the Marines grabbing the Geonosians from their beds.

Even though the Marines were professional killers, they could not bring themselves to murder these Geonosians in cold blood as they slept, even though that would have been the easiest option. So this alternative was chosen as a way to keep them alive as prisoners.

The Marine shouts woke the Geonosians from their sleep, only to be greeted by Marines grabbing them from their dreams of women, money, whatever else Geonosians dream of. Riley was responsible for one of these Geonosians, and he grabbed the Geonosian by his exoskeleton and head as he tried to force him from his bed to the floor.

As Riley rustled the Geonosian up, it quickly became clear that the Geonosian was several inches taller, and quite a few pounds heavier than the Marine. As Riley got the Geonosian to his feet, his element of surprise was lost as the Geonosian fought back, waving Riley's arms off of his shirt, knocking the lance corporal's balance off. This moment of off balance was quickly followed by a loud grunt and two handed push of the Geonosian that knocked Riley backwards, tripping over one of the footlockers that lie in front of each cot.

This scuffle did not go unnoticed by Luke and the two other Marines that were not wrestling Geonosians, instead covering the floor. After hearing the grunt of the Geonosian, Luke's vision flashed to where it came from, and he saw Riley being knocked over onto the floor.

Luke saw the Geonosian turn to face the other Marines that were in various positions of subduing Geonosians. Through the night vision optics that Luke wore, he could see the Geonosians face as he turned to reach for a rifle that was near him. Luke stopped him dead, literally, as he fired his own rifle at the Geonosian.

Three rounds were fired from Luke's M416 after he pulled the trigger three times as quickly as he could. The rounds struck the Geonosian center mass in his chest, blue circles becoming visible on his brown exoskeleton. The large Geonosian was sent spinning backwards as he fell dead over an empty cot next to him. Riley stared as the man was killed just inches from him.

Seeing their comrade killed before their eyes gave all the remaining Geonosians the incentive to stop all resistance to the Marines wrestling them to the ground. Luke walked from his position next to the stairwell across to Riley who was on the floor still, extending his hand to help the operator to his feet. The four surviving were easily subdued with flex cuffs within thirty seconds after their friend was shot dead.

"Next time Riley," Luke said as he pulled the operator to his feet, "Try and pick a guy that's smaller than you."

Riley pushed the night vision goggles back over his face as he said, "Easier for you to say, you big gooney bastard."

"Just trying to keep you alive mate," Luke said smiling before turning to the rest of the Marines in the room, who were standing over the Geonosians awaiting orders.

"What the hell are you dip-shits waiting around for, get back downstairs and linkup with Saber Two, we're not done."

The Marines all snickered as they began moving down the stairs to the main floor. Luke was known for the distinct way that he dealt with the men under him, it was what separated him from the other NCOs. He wouldn't hesitate at making you feel like a pile of shit in front of others, but would trust you with his life, and make sure that each man he went in with, came out with him. This was why Luke was one of the most revered team leaders in the company, if not the entire Unite.

One of the Marines in the squad hadn't yet adjusted to Luke's ways, Lance Corporal Josh Eckers. Eckers had transfered into the team after Santa Monica, as Heffron's replacement on the LMG-5. Luckily for Luke, he was not given a boot straight out of Parris Island, Eckers had fought in Ryloth with elements of the 3rd Marine Special Operations Battalion. As Bravo was being shipped to Courascant a week before this night, Eckers had joined Two-One.

Luke was the last to leave the building and enter the rainstorm that was drenching the area. He turned left out of the door they had just recently broken into and went to where Burris was hunkered down.

"Four tangos bagged, three put down," Luke said as he went prone next to Burris, who was lying just off of the runway in the ditch.

"Good work Sparrow," Burris said approvingly before switching subjects onto their next objective, "Right now we have Alpha moving in from the north," he pointed to the left towards the control tower and adjacent buildings, "1st and 3rd Platoons are coming in from the south and taking those hangars there, then moving onto the barracks in between the two."

"And we're charging right up the middle," Luke said dryly.

Burris chuckled, "Exactly right, we're to disable those fighters sitting on the tarmac, then linkup with the rest of Bravo, you still have the charges?"

Luke turned down the ditch and found Hex, "Hex, you still have the C17?"

"What the hell do you think is in this giant bag I've been humpin' around all night Luke."

Luke smiled as he turned back to Hex, "Yeah, we've got the charges ready."

"Good, because," Burris paused as he looked at his watch, "We're on now."

The sixteen Marines darted from their position in the ditch across the main runway. With each footstep forward, the likelihood that they were to be spotted increased exponentially; risks of the job Luke reasoned as he ran.

Luke's boots smacked against the tarmac, splashing the rain water that was pooling everywhere. As they approached the hangars and the fighters, the night vision goggles began to flare and their vision was obstructed by the floodlights that hung off of the hangars roof.

He raised his left hand and flipped the NVG optics up on the hinge that was on the front of his helmet. The cold water that fell from the sky hit his face for the first time in hours, a cool change that was welcomed as the water ran down his forehead to the tip of his nose.

The Marines kept running forward, speed was their best friend here, and they planned to be in and out before the Geonosians knew it. The shapes of four Geonosian Nantex Starfighters could be seen, tarps covering each aircraft, offering protection from the harsh environment.

As the squad closed the distance to the fighters, the tarmac around the aircraft was lit up more than a Christmas tree. They would have to move extra quick. Luke and Hex broke off from the squad and ran to the fighter that was farthest north. Riley and Eckers went to the aircraft next to them, while Bowren's team broke off into their own two-man teams and went to the remaining aircraft.

Luke came to a halt near the nose of the fighter, instinctively he crouched and began scanning the area north where the control tower and other buildings were. As Luke was scanning their surroundings, Hex already had a C17 charge in her hand. The Marine quickly flicked the transmitter on the C17 charge before he slammed the block against the nose of the Nantex underneath the canopy. The resulting explosion from the C17 would cripple the fighter, and make sure it would not be in the air anytime soon. The other three teams of Marines were also doing the same procedure as they completed their objective.

"Done," Hex said as she attached the C17 charge to the aircraft.

"Good, we're moving," Luke replied as he forced himself up from the crouch and turned towards their next objective.

As soon as their work was done, the Marines again raced from their position on the tarmac towards one of the hangars that was sandwiched between two buildings. The other squad led by Burris was moving across the tarmac with them as they advanced on the hangar from two different angles.

The hangar doors were shut closed, but through the glass at the top of the doors, Luke could vaguely see several lights on. He motioned to the squad to move towards the right side of the hangar, where an auxiliary door was that would grant the squad access to the inside. Burris led his squad to the left side of the hangar in preparation for the assault. The two squads were lit up on the tarmac for a minute and twenty seconds, but luckily, no alarms could be heard from any building.

"Two we're in position," Luke reported as the eight Marines had stacked against the door that was located on the side of the hangar.

"Two copies," Burris replied, "Hit it."

With the command, Luke, who was third in the line, hit Riley's left shoulder, who then instantly smacked Hex's shoulder. Again, the Sergeant sprang into action as she ripped open the door and allowed her fellow Marines to breach the hangar.

The hangar was dimly lit, with only several lights hanging from the ceiling that were on, shadows were casted all over the hangar. The large interior housed eight of the Nantex Starfighters, each neatly parked in a single line. Also spread throughout the hangar were several offices and near those offices, were three dozen cots, each occupied by a member of the sleeping Geonosian aircrews.

Riley was first through the door, taking one step in before turning to his right and continuing forward down the wall. He was followed closely by Luke and then the remainder of the squad. They moved silently as they entered the hangar and found the nearest cover. Luke and Riley ducked behind a tool stand while the rest of the squad found other decent cover.

Hex was the last through the door, and as she stepped through, gunshots rang out in the air. Luke turned towards Hex, expecting his friend to be on the floor bleeding out, but instead found her still standing and in the process of ducking behind an empty fifty-five gallon drum.

The gunshots had come from a different location, but now, they were compromised as one of the Geonosians, a single sentry that was above the offices on a catwalk spotted the Marines. He shouted in Geonosian as he raised his rifle and began firing wildly towards the squad.

The shout combined with the abrupt sounds of automatic gunfire woke the sleeping Geonosians as confusion filled the hangar.

"Shit," Luke exclaimed, ducking behind the tool stand as Geonosian rounds ricocheted off the stand and the ground around him, "Take 'em all out."

The thirty sleeping Geonosians had quickly become thirty armed Geonosians as they grabbed whatever weapons were around them and began shooting at the two Marine squads that were attacking them from both directions. The single sentry that was on the catwalk was quickly taken out by a burst of LMG-5 fire from Eckers, his shots adding to the echoing that rang out throughout the vast hangar.

Luke leaned out from the cover and aimed towards the Geonosians that were still bustling around the cots; either looking for weapons, cover, or Marine targets. He placed his sights across the chest of one of the Geonosians who was wearing a grey overall, one of the pilots Luke figured, and fired two rounds at him. The Plasma tore through the exoskeletons and struck flesh and organs as his kidney was disintegrated by the rounds. The Geonosian fell to the ground shrieking out in pain.

The Marines shouted as they sought to find better cover positions and angles that would lead them to the Geonosians. Across the great hangar, Burris and his squad were under the same fire as they attempted to neutralize the hostile Geonosians.

"Frag out," Hex yelled as she threw a grenade towards the Geonosians.

Several seconds later an explosion rocked the hangar as a number of Geonosians were killed by the blast the send cots and debris flying in all directions.

"Bowren take your team right," Luke shouted as he looked back at the Marines and pointed towards cover that was farther down near the wall and would provide better fire on the Geonosians. Luke turned and leaned back out of the cover and fired another volley of rounds at the Geonosians as he shouted, "Go now, go!"

The Marine fire team bolted from their cover towards the new position as Luke's team fired a volley of rounds that either killed those Geonosians still poking out from cover, or sent the rest behind whatever they could find.

Bowren bolted forward, the former college fullback was a wall of a man when he moved, but he was quick on his feet, which allowed him to traverse the distance quickly. When Bowren was several meters from the cover, he slid forward, allowing his momentum to carry him into the safety of the cover. Rounds from Geonosian blasters ricocheted off of the hangar wall and floor, amazingly, not striking any of the Marines in the squad.

"Bowren you good," Luke questioned over the gunfire.

"Yeah we're all in one piece," Bowren shouted back after accounting for all his men that made it to the cover.

"Alright, get ready to lay some fire down on my go," Luke shouted as he prepared himself to lean out of the cover, "Now!"

The eight Marines fired towards the Geonosians as one, and several more of the hostiles were cut down in a wall of lead. Luke poked out of the cover and loosened a 40 mm grenade that exploded next to several Geonosian airmen, turning the air into a pink and grey mist. The noise that echoed through the hangar made the entire situation all the more confusing, as automatic fire, screams and shouts filled the Marines' ears.

"Watch your fire left," Luke shouted after he fired the grenade, "Friendlies moving up."

Burris was leading his squad towards the remaining Geonosians, alternating between firing and dashing forward several meters. The Geonosian force was down to only a handful of men, and quickly, Burris and his squad had overtaken their position. One of the Marines was hit in the jaw by a Geonosian round as they advanced and his body laid in a heap on the floor, but this was the only casualty the Marines suffered and compared to the Geonosians, who were counted as twenty-six dead and two wounded, the Marines made out pretty well.

As the final two Geonosians were put out of their misery, Luke and his squad secured the offices in case of any additional Geonosians that may appear.

"We're all clear here Burris," Luke reported as he emerged from the offices and approached Burris who was standing over the Geonosian bodies.

"Good work Commander," Burris acknowledged before he keyed his own headset, "Saber this is Saber Two how copy?"

"Saber Two, this is Saber Actual, send it."

"Saber we were just in hard contact with the enemy, most likely they know we're here, how do you want us to proceed, over."

"Copy that Two, we're in contact right now, proceed on next objectives riki-tik," before Burris could speak, the company commander continued, "ROE change, weapons free, all Geonosians designated hostile."

"Two copies all, we're oscar-mike," Burris said before turning to the two squads before him, "Get those charges planted now."

Several Marines acknowledged the order and took off to plant the C4 charges on the fighters that were idling in the hangar. Burris walked from where he was over to Luke and the men of Two-One.

"Sparrow," Burris started as he passed Luke, who turned and followed the lieutenant away from the other Marines, "Cat's outta the bag, clankers heard that shit and the base is probably gonna be on full alert in minutes."

"So what do you want us to do," Luke inquired as the two Marines stopped near one of the offices, several Geonosians were lying on the floor around them pooling blood at their feet.

"Take your teams and head on to the next objective, we'll finish placing charges here and then blow these pieces of shit sky high."

"Copy that," Luke noticed the body of the dead Marine in the distance behind Burris, "What are we doing about," Luke didn't need to say his name.

"Can't hump him out now, still got objectives to move on, we'll come back for him once we've been relieved."

The two Marines began walking back towards the others who were busy policing the weapons off of the dead Geonosians and planting the charges. Luke gathered his squad and they began walking out of the hangar towards the next objective.

Turning back to Burris, Luke shouted, "Don't forget Lieutenant."

Burris raised his head and looked at Luke who was at the door to the hangar, "I never do Commander," he said, "I never do."

The rain hadn't stopped, in fact, it had gotten worse since the squad was in the hangar. The first noticeable change Luke noticed, besides the rain of course, was that there seemed to be constant thunder in the air. This thunder, turned out to be automatic weapons fire that echoed throughout the airbase.

Luke chuckled to himself, his dry sense of humour emerging, "I'd say the cat's outta the bag."

"What was that Luke," Hex questioned as she heard Luke's voice.

"Oh nothing Hex," Luke said as he moved past Hex, "Just admiring our current situation."

"Gotcha," Hex nodded his head, "Trying to sound smarter than the rest of us."

"Trying to," Luke said grinning to himself.

The eight Marines continued their bounding motions from the hangar on ward to their next objective; a guard post on the edge of the compound. The objective, was originally supposed to be easier to assault, due to the Marines advancing on it from the rear. However now that the alarm was raised and skirmishes were occurring all over the compound, the post would be well on alert for an attack.

"Bowren punch your team out thirty meters," Luke said as the Marines approached the building.

Sergeant Bowren moved his team about thirty meters to the left of Luke as the Marines continued advancing onto the guard post. The small post was dead ahead of them, the small concrete building guarding one of the three roads that led into the airfield. The two story building made entirely of concrete and steel, was lit up on all sides by flood lights and sentries were outside the building on the mounted machine guns. This was going to be difficult.

"Bowren, heavy machine guns on the flanks of the building, aim for them then work your way through the ranks," Luke said through the LASH.

"Bravo copies."

Luke took the first shot, the rounds from his M416 peppered the chest of the Geonosian that was manning one of the mounted machine guns. The Geonosian next to him had enough time to look with a shocked expression as his comrade fell to the ground before he himself was gunned down. The Marines fired as they advanced, there was no time to properly bound and assault the building; speed was their greatest ally and they intended to use it.

The two teams were within forty meters of the building by the time the Geonosians had organized and directed fire towards the Marines. One of the last remaining holdout of Geonosians outside the building was silenced as Luke fired a 40 mm grenade that exploded once it made contact with the sandbag barricade. Dirt exploded into the air as the several Geonosians were shot backwards from the force of the explosion.

Luke led Hex and Riley forward towards the building as Eckers went prone into the wet sandy ground. He looked down the sight on his LMG-5 and held the trigger. Dozens of bursts sent over a hundred rounds into the second floor of the guard post, shattering every pane of glass. Luke and the two other Marines raced towards the door under the covering fire from Eckers.

As Luke slammed his back against the wall of the building, he keyed his mic, "Eckers watch your fire, we're goin' in."

The lance corporal acknowledged the order, and began to check his fire more so, firing only several more bursts into the second floor. After seeing Luke and the rest of the team enter the building, Eckers ceased his fire. Eckers slipped on the wet ground as he quickly propped himself up from the sandy ground, but regained his footing and he began trudging towards the guard post.

As he approached the doorway, he could hear the sounds of gunfire grow louder with each step. A grenade went off and showered broken glass from the second floor, just barely missing Eckers as he hit his back against the wall.

Leaning against the wall, he checked his box magazine to quickly see about how many rounds he had remaining; somewhere around fifty remained. The sound of gunfire had stopped from inside the building, in fact, there were no sounds at all, except the rain battering against every surface around him.

Eckers took a deep breath as he prepared to rush into the building, but before he could take a step, his ear piece came alive with the sound of Luke's voice.

"Eckers, you there?"

Taking his left hand off the handle of the LMG-5, he thumbed his mic, "I'm outside the building Commander, need help?"

"Negative, we're coming out now."

Within moments, Luke appeared from the doorway and was startled by the close proximity of Eckers to the doorway.

"All clear out here," Eckers reported as the team circled around.

"Any sign of Bowren or his guys," Luke questioned as he scanned outward, looking through his NVG set.

Before anyone could answer, Bowren appeared from the side of the building, jumping a little, surprised just as Luke had been.

"Outcrops are cleared out, had a few stragglers but we took care of em," Bowren announced as he kneeled down next to Luke, flipping his NV optics off.

"Good work gents," Luke praised, looking at each Marine, "That's it for us tonight."

"Not for those guys out there," Hex noted as the sounds of gunfire could still be heard coming from the interior of the airbase.

"That's not our concern," Luke said sternly, "Holding this spot, no one in, no one out, that's our concern Hex."

"I'm not complaining' Luke, just saying," Hex retorted as he rose to his feet.

Hex and Riley both moved away from the group and went to the other side of the building, looking towards the airfield. The rest of the squad began policing the weapons again off of the dead Geonosians.

Bowren and Luke were on the second floor, looking through papers for any intel that could be gathered when the headsets came alive, "Two-One, Two, objective secured?"

Luke stopped moving and turned to look at Bowren who was holding several slips of paper in his hand, "Well you gonna answer the him or should I?"

"You look busy Bow," Luke said as he turned his body to Bowren, "Let me get this one."

"If I didn't know you so well, I'd say that was almost sincere Sparrow," Bowren replied setting the paper down on the desk.

Luke winked as he keyed the mic, "Two, Two-One, affirmative, objective secured, over."

"Roger that Two-One, good work," Burris said, "Interrogative, why don't you take a look back at the airfield."

"Copy Two, Two-One out," Luke said before shouting out the broken windows to Hex who was outside, "Hey Hex!"

"Yeah," Hex shouted back up at the two.

"Time for the fireworks," Luke replied as he and Bowren moved to the broken windows and gazed towards the hangars.

Several moments passed and nothing happened, but then, an explosion, followed by a dozen more shook the entire airfield. The night sky was illuminated by the blasts, as shards of aircraft were sent high into the night sky. The hangar that they had assaulted minutes before was destroyed as munitions were ignited by the blasts. The once large hangar now was a collapsed heap of metal and steel, explosions still bursting as munitions cooked off in the heat. The fire burned bright even in the heavy rain, illuminating most of the airfield.

Luke noted to Bowren, "Well if they didn't know we we're here, they do now."

---

2622 December 13th Earth Standard Calendar, Corporal Mike 'bull' Fourie

"Let's go Bull, we're late," Don said as he flicked several switches in the cockpit of the AH-4Z SuperHornet.

"We're going, keep your pants on Donny," Bull said as he brought the helicopter to full power.

Over the radio came the voice of an operator in the Combat Information Center of the Liberator class star destroyer OAG Peleliu, "Star Three-Four you are cleared for dust-off."

"Copy Eagle Command, Star Three-Four is airborne," Bull said as he pulled the cyclic back, raising the SuperHornet into the air.

The VTOL rose, following the procession of other aircraft that took off from the hangers of the forty ships in the fleet that were stationed in high orbit over the planet Geonosis. Star Three-Four was one of twelve SuperHornets that were based on the Peleliu, and they were responsible for making sure that the Warbirds and other landing craft would make it safely to the landing zones to deploy their loads of Marines.

The heavily armed SuperHornets was topped off with a full load of Hellfire missiles and Hydra 10 rockets, plus seven hundred and fifty 20 mm explosive rounds stored under the nose in the chain gun. Bull and Don hoped that by the time they had to return to the ship, that they would be fresh out of ammo; all expended over Geonosian targets.

"Star Flight this is Zero-Six, go to angels two and proceed to Waypoint Charlie, over."

"Copy Zero-Six," Bull said as he continued to pilot the attack aircraft into formation, "Jesus would you look at all that."

Don paused from checking his instruments and looked out both windows that enclosed him in the cockpit, "That's a lot of hardware goin' planet side."

Beneath the flights of aircraft, both attack and transport, an armada of ships lay beneath them. Dozens of acclamator assault ships, Liberator Star Destroyers, Vigil class corvettes and Gladiator-1 class Star Destroyers. The three republic fleets that had just arrived were moveing into orbit. Emerging from the well decks of those ships, were hundreds of Warbirds and Warbird Heavy transports that carried tanks and other armoured vehicles. Pretty much any vehicle that could be launched from a ship was on it's way to Geonosis; the Marines from 1st and 2nd Division the Army 81st and 90th armoured divisions and 712th mechanized Division as well as three airborne Divisions were about to storm the beaches.

"Hornet Two-Two spread formation and cover the right flank."

"Roger that Two-Six, we're on it."

"Star Three-Three tighten up on Three-Four and keep with 'em."

"Copy Zero-Six."

The radio chatter was constant as the aircraft made their way to the planet, which took just over five minutes. The SuperHornets went feet dry just before the first Warbirds hit the land.

"I got something here," Don announced as he peered through the FLIR scope, "Probable tanks at two clicks, two-eight-two."

"I tally," Bull said after hearing Don's voice fill his helmet, "Star Zero-Six enemy armor two clicks out, permission to engage?"

"Green light Three-Four," replied Zero-Six, the command helicopter, "Take Three-Three and Three-Five, along with you, over."

"Copy Zero-Six, Star Three-Four outbound."

Bull banked the aircraft and adjusted the course so they would fly right over the enemy positions. The two other SuperHornets followed suit as the trio broke from the main flight.

"You got a cleaner picture," Bull asked as they approached the position.

"Yeah, two AATs idling by some buildings, I got a good tone on one of em."

"Three-Three you copy that," Bull asked.

"Copy that Three-Four, we have solid tone on the other."

"Three-Four copies," Bull said as he tried to peer out the canopy in the direction of the tanks, "Don do it."

"Three-Three missile away," Don said as he pressed the trigger.

A single AGM-714 Hellfire anti-tank missile streaked from the SuperHornet's left wing. Seconds later, Three-Three fired their own and the two missiles connected to their targets within several seconds. The twenty-pound warhead carried by the Hellfire was more than enough to punch through the armour of the AAT MBT. The missiles hit their tanks on their turrets, creating a fireball inside the small compartments, igniting the shells and munitions carried by the AATs.

The explosions rocked the buildings, blowing holes in the walls and shaking the sand that surrounded them. Several Geonosians that were not in the tanks could be seen scrambling around in confusion as their vehicles were destroyed by the unseen aircraft. Three-Five followed the two SuperHornet over the target, firing it's 20 mm chain gun at the Geonosians on the ground. The targeting aides in the system created a clear black and white picture on a two inch display that was projected on the gunner's face mask. The targeting reticule centred in the screen followed where ever the gunner looked. When Don first tested the system several months before back in Reach testing grounds, he thought he was playing a video game it was so easy.

The three SuperHornets only needed to make one pass over the target, the tanks had been destroyed and the majority of the Geonosians that had escaped the explosions had been killed by the chain gun.

"Good run boys," Bull said as he banked the helicopter around and returned to where the rest of the flight was several clicks down the coast.

"Repeat, this is Saber Two, we are in danger of being overrun by enemy armor and infantry, we need immediate air support."

Burris cursed as his pleas went unanswered. They had been promised air support ten minutes ago and here they still were without. Now the Geonosians were about to gain the upper hand on the two under-strengthen Marine companies. Despite the fact the OAG was beginning to land, their relief force wasn't due to land for another 20 minutes. Time that they didn't have.

Alternating between firing and desperately trying to contact someone on the radio, Burris was about at his limit, "Gunny targets fifty meters right," he shouted as he saw several Geonosians weaving in and out between the buildings. Burris fired several rounds at them before Gunny had spotted them and took them down with a burst of fire.

Ducking behind his cover he keyed the radio again, "This is Saber Two, does anyone copy?"

The twelve SuperHornets were circling the invasion forces at four clicks out. There was no heavy Geonosian resistance that met them on the beachheads. In fact, the only contact they had, were the two AATs that were easily destroyed in the opening moments. Don and Bull wondered if they would get to see any real action today as they completed another loop of the beachhead.

"Star Three-Four," the radio cracked as it came alive, "Switch freq to 101.7."

"Copy that Zero-Six," Bull said as he adjusted the dial on the console in front of him.

The headset blasted noise as the frequency hit 101.7, "Saber Two, under intense enemy fire," there was a pause, the speaker interrupted by a short burst of automatic fire, "Grid reference Alpha-Kilo-Eight-Three-One."

Zero-Six could be heard next, "Copy Saber Two, flight of twelve SuperCobras inbound on your location, ETA zero-two minutes, over."

Automatic gunfire could be heard as the voice came back over the channel, "Copy that Star Zero-Six, friendly positions will be lit by IR strobes, Saber Two out."

"Sounds like we're gonna get some," Don commented as he began checking the weapon instruments.

"Star Flight proceed to grid reference Alpha-Kilo-Eight-Three-One," Zero-Six stated, "Friendlies need immediate assistance, marked by IR strobes, all weapons are free."

The twelve SuperHornets banked out of their flight patterns and immediately turned inland towards the airbase. Their altitudes lowered as they began to skim the sand dunes, not more than one hundred meters off the ground.

"Alright boys, low and fast," Zero-Six's voice filled the channel, "Just like we've done, target the heavy armour first, then work your way through."

Eleven different voices then spoke as they all copied the orders. As the flight bumped over a final hill, smoke plumes filled the early morning sky. The black smoke of smouldering vehicles and buildings rose hundreds of feet into the sky.

"How long has this been going on for," Bull questioned.

"I didn't hear of anyone going ashore before the invasion," Don answered as he stared in amazement at the signs of the battle raging before them.

"Probably some special ops guys," Bull reasoned.

"Well they sure as hell know how party," Don said before being cut off.

"Star Flight be advised, flight of -99s are overhead," Zero-Six said with just enough time for Bull and Don to look up to see the four nimble fighters streak over the battle space.

The four Type-99 Lightnings were in and out in seconds. The jets streaked over the battle and released two munitions each. The Paveway bombs fell onto their targets, hits being visible as large explosions could be seen by the SuperHornets.

"Time to go to work," Bull said before the twelve SuperHornets broke off from their formation.

Three-Four and Three-Five broke off from the main flight and banked right as they began to circle the outskirts of the airfield. Craters, vehicle wrecks, and bodies could be seen littering the ground outside of the airfield's perimeter.

"AAT seven hundred meters," Don called out after spotting the vehicle.

"Hit 'em," Bull said an instant before Don fired another Hellfire HEAT missile, this one slamming into the AAT just under turret, Good hit, good hit."

The channel was filled with chatter as the helicopter crews found the new area to be ripe with targets. The amount of concentration that was needed to not only find, track, and destroy the Geonosian targets, but to also coordinate with friendlies and avoid collisions in the air was astounding.

"Infantry," Bull called out as he lined the SuperHornet up over a runway and began a run past it.

Don controlled the chain gun through the helmet mounted display that he had grown to love. He easily sprayed the area in front of them with 20 mm explosive rounds, that tore into the advancing platoon of Geonosian infantry. For good measure, Don also fired a salvo of Hydra rockets, that streaked towards the ground, cratering the runway and sending thousands of fragments into the platoon.

The SuperHornet continued to rocket over the battlefield as the two crewmen searched for targets and threats. Bull banked the VTOL right as they began to make another sweep of the airfield.

"We got friendlies below us," Don shouted as he saw the IR strobe flashing in the display screen, "Shit Zeus bank left, bank left!"

A CIS mobile Anti-Aircraft Artillery, commonly called a Triple A, a multi-barrelled anti-aircraft gun placed on a vehicle had appeared from behind cover and the SuperHornet was in a path to take them right over it. Bull slammed the cyclic left and the SuperHornet swerved and climbed to avoid the Triple A. The Triple A ignored them and instead drew its' sights on Three-Five.

The four barrels of the Triple A barked as dozens of rounds filled the air, tearing into the fuselage of Three-Five. Smoke began billowing from the VTOL as it began to swerve slightly in its flight, controls to the aircraft obviously lost. The Triple A fired another volley in quick succession into Three-Five, this time filling the canopy and engine with lead. Flames erupted from the SuperHornet as it spun widely out of control and crashed into the earth, landing on the wreckage of a AAT and the bodies of dead Geonosians.

Don was leaning his body against the right window, watching the destruction of Three-Five happen right before him.

"Shit they got 'em," he said as he dropped back into his seat.

"Three-Five is down, repeat, Three-Five is down," Bull relayed through the net channel, "No survivors," he said as he saw the entire wreckage burning on its side.

Bull circled the aircraft around the Triple A, who had claimed another kill as the wreckage of Star Two-Two crashed into an aircraft hangar that was already missing sections of the roof.

"I'm bringing us up behind it," Bull announced, "You tear it a new asshole."

From five hundred meters in the sky, the SuperHornet angled downward and began the attack run. The gunners of the Triple A must had seen them, for the barrels began traversing, trying to get their sights on the SuperHornet before they were destroyed. They were too and too slow late to shoot.

Don centred the targeting reticule onto the rear compartment of the Triple A and fired a combination of the 20 mm rounds and two salvos of Hydra 10s at the vehicle. The entire area erupted in a cloud of debris as the Triple A and the Geonosians around it were killed by the blasts.

Bull jerked the aircraft left and avoided debris that was flung into the air at the last second. Don continued to fire the chain gun at any unfortunate Geonosian that crossed into the targeting display. By the time he stopped firing, they were down to only seventy some rounds left in the weapon.

The SuperHornet gained altitude as they regrouped from the last attack run when the channel came alive with Zero-Six, "Star Flight be advised friendly air assets coming in to re-enforce ground elements, watch your fire."

thirty Warbirds and ten Warbird Heavy Transports could be seen on the horizon, growing larger each passing second. They were almost finished with this fight, they only needed to last a few more minutes. Bull piloted the aircraft to make another strafing run on the runway to clear it of any last CIS froces.

Don fired the last remaining 20 mm rounds and a half dozen Hydra rockets into a Geonosian position that was positioned next to a small building in the centre of the airfield. One of the rockets streaked into the building and a fireball erupted into the sky. The rocket struck the fuel pumping station, igniting the thousands of gallons of fuel that were stored in the pipes and tanks.

"Shit," Bull shouted as he tried to avoid the fireball they were about to enter.

The engine brushed the flames but they had survived the explosion. They made another half circle waiting to line up another pass on the runway.

"Watch what you're shooting at next time Donny," Bull said.

"Hey I hit the bad guys didn't-" he was cut off mid-sentence as rounds exploded into the cockpit.

A AAT had targeted the SuperHornet and the main turret was unloading into them. Bull took evasive manoeuvres and avoided the trail of rounds that chased the helicopter across the sky.

"Don, Donny," Bull shouted over the noise of air rushing through the holes that appeared in the side of the canopy as well as the rotors spinning.

There was no response, then Bull noticed the left side of the canopy, the glass painted red with the blood of his gunner.

"Oh Goddamn it," he said in disbelief, "Three-, Three-Four, I lost my gunner," he noticed that it was getting increasingly difficult to control the helicopter from going into a right spin, "I'm losing control of lateral movements, over."

"Copy that Three-Four, RTB now, Two-Four, ride shotgun on Three-Four."

"Roger that," Two-Four said as they broke off from their attack run and flew towards Bull.

Bull tried to turn the SuperHornet back towards the coast, but this task was made increasingly difficult by the loss of his controls. He had to take a wide arch that brought him over the airfield once more. He could see in front of him the Warbirds that were about to land and relieve the ground forces.

As he crossed over the hangars and was over the open ground between the airfield and the woods, his radar warning began blaring. A shoulder launched rocket had locked onto him.

"Fuck," he mumbled, realizing there was nothing he could do to avoid the missile, "Two-Four SAM launch, break off."

The other SuperHornet broke off of its flight next to the wounded aircraft and cleared the area. A grey smoke trail burst from the edge of the rocky outlands, and a single missile streaked from this position into Three-Four, striking the bird underneath the right wing, tearing off the tail from the fuselage of the aircraft.

Bull felt the impact of the missile, and then really felt it as the canopy around him shattered from the fragments, showering him in glass. With the loss of the tail, the SuperHornet began spinning wildly as it dropped to the earth like a boulder.

As the air rushed around him and his vision was blurred, not able to tell what was ground or sky, Bull mumbled, "Hey Donny."

The canopy was blown off as the ejector seats blew out of the dying bird as the SuperHornet slammed into the woods, tearing down a section of rocks and sending a fireball into the air that caught the other trees near it on fire.

"Three-Four is down," Two-Four noted as they saw the fireball burst from the trees, "Repeat, Three-Four is down."

---

2622 December 13th Earth Standard Calendar, CDR Luke Sparrow on airfield Bravo.

Luke poked up from cover and fired off several rounds at the Geonosians two hundred meters away, "Go, go, go."

The Marines from the Warbirds stormed forward to re-enforce the embattled soldires, as the T-600 tanks now on the tarmac firing at the Geonosians.

He turned back towards the airfield and could see the burning airfield behind him. The remaining SuperHornets in the air were still engaging the Geonosians allowing the Warbirds to unload their cargo and the drops pods that began to enter the atmosphere, their burning hulls could be seen due to the re-entry process.

Luke worked his way back towards Hex, who was already in one of sand ditches taking the opportunity that had presented itself to rest. Before he took a seat next to her, Luke saw a fire in the sand, and the wreckage of a SuperHornet in the centre of it; the SuperHornet that had saved Luke and his team from certain death.

---

2622 January 31st Earth Standard Calendar, CDR. Luke Sparrow on Geonosis on board a Warbird en route to Golbah Hive.

The scene was almost biblical.

Not in the sense of shock, awe, and wrath of God, although that was happening somewhere to the east, just over the horizon, as OAG spacecraft pounded defensive positions set up by the some still-intact units of the CIS. Those positions were much reduced now, after several weeks of heavy air and ground attack, but they were holding for the moment. With a thunderous roar, four black silhouettes exploded over the top of the ridge. Two massive leviathans followed by two smaller ones. The four aircraft continued east-south-east towards the Hive of Golbah, flying in a standard two-down, two-up formation. Lower down, flying side-by-side were two MH-66H Warbird heavy-lift VTOL (Warbird Heavy Transports) of the OAG Army's 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, colloquially referred to as the 'Night Stalkers'. These two behemoth cargo carriers were escorted by two AH-4Z SuperHornet gunships on loan from the 331st Cavalry Division's Aviation Brigade, flying above and behind the massive tandem-repulser VTOLs to avoid their enormous roiling downdraft, their Longbow radars and thermal vision systems probing the rolling ridges and rocks of the Geonosis desert for any unwelcome visitors.

The troops inside the Warbird HLVs were not, however, all OAG. The sixteen men of Mobility Troop, Sabre Squadron Delta of Mandalor sat quietly in the four Land Rover 210 DPV Desert Patrol Vehicles, two to each aircraft, keenly aware that the long flight was coming to an end. To avoid contact with remaining CIS forces, the Warbird HLVs had looped almost a hundred miles to the west of the known enemy locations to deliver their payload behind enemy lines; soon, it would be their part of the show.

Commander Luke 'Ploymath' Sparrow was even more aware of that fact than most of these men. He was attached as the OAG's liaison to the Mandalorians Special Forces for the mission. Tonight's mission was a shoot-from-the-hip immediate action plan that he'd had almost no time whatsoever to plan. A communications intercept decrypted by the STORM TRACK listening station on a Vigil Corvette strongly suggested that a high-level meeting between several key members of Poggles regime, probably the last before they went into hiding. It was taking place at a villa on the banks of a River - designated Objective DRAGON - belonging to Tikriti, who performed a duty similar to an interior minister. According to a further intelligence brief Luke had been given before taking off, ONI was giving credence to rumours that Poggle himself might be in attendance, grading it triple-A quality intel.

Luke had fixed the briefing officer with a very pointed stare at that point. He was extremely leery of trusting ONI intel right now, as he and his troop had spent the previous three weeks running around checking out several dozen sites that 'Triple-A grade' ONI intelligence had labelled as WMD storage and research houses.

They had all been completely empty. Not some, not most. Every. Single. One. In several cases, the buildings had been abandoned for at least a decade according to the locals. Top work there from ONI.

Hawk recon drones had already been in the process of scouting Golbah in preparation for a major offensive by Task Force Atlantic, a OAMC mechanised regiment that was forming up for a northward push somewhere down near the Badlands. The drones had revealed that CIS military presence in the city itself was minimal, having been drawn off south to set up defences, which meant there was a clear shot through the city from the north-west to the manor house.

Objective: recon, then smash-and-grab for the HVI's. If the villa had too many guards for his troop, avoid contact and designate for a precision air strike before falling back into the desert for extraction via VTOL.

Luke's battered and cynical second in command, Colour Sergeant Vrotyaar Ordo had taken one look at the mission brief and immediately interpreted the 'smash-and-grab' order as the ONI's not-very-subtle way of screaming 'We need evidence on WMDs NOW, GOD-DAMMIT! Before Parliament or GNN find out we screwed up!'. Luke agreed with the experienced SNCO's viewpoint; they'd seen several other increasingly desperate attempts from 'the Company' to find evidence to support their crap intel already.

Luke let none of this apprehension show. He was an experienced SF officer now, and displaying worry would mean it spread to his men, regardless of their professionalism: if the boss starts cracking from the pressure, the rest of the unit suffers for it. From the missions when he'd operated in a team and not off on his own, his reputation as a competent commander was well established in the OAG, so he had that going for him at least.

With a sudden jerk, the Warbirds set down five miles from the outskirts of Golbah, out of audible range and hidden behind a low ridge. The loadmaster flipped out the vehicle 'planks' on the tail ramp and the four modified Wolf Land Rovers modified for desert operations surged down them before pulling away to assemble away from the dust cloud.

The Warbirds lifted off to go and tank up from an air-to-air refuelling aircraft somewhere a long way out over the desert, followed by the SuperHornets. Their fuel requirements would force them to fall back, to be replaced by another pair that would meet up with and escort the Warbirds back in for their extraction in, hopefully, about three hours. The sun rose early in these parts.

"What a lovely place, boss. I think I'll take my next leave here."

Luke rolled his eyes as he pressed the transmit button on the troop radio net - not that anyone could see, in the darkness and behind the night-vision goggles attached to his helmet. "Your funeral, Colour Ordo. This is Mike One Zero to all vehicles, sound off and give vehicle status, over."

"Mike One One here. Vehicle good."

"Mike One Two, all working"

"Mike One Three, present, same here."

"Good. One Zero to all vehicles, proceed in file to Checkpoint Alpha. Make ready on the heavy weapons, permission to engage if contacted but not before. Call out any possible contacts as we move so we can evade. I want this fast and quiet, people. Zero out."

Above and behind Luke the gunner, Corporal Roegr Vizla, racked the charging handle on the M2 Heavy Machine Gun mounted on the Land Rover's roll bars. The HMG made a satisfying cha-CHUNK that was simultaneously comforting and intimidating as hell.

Luke switched channels as the driver - Sergeant Thiyanx - shifted into gear and pulled out, headlights off and using night vision only, for obvious reasons.

"Hello Eagle One, Eagle One, this is Mike One Zero, Mike One Zero, come in, over."

A few seconds later, the crackly response of a Vigil's communications operator came in, orbiting somewhere south of the Badlands and functioning as a relay to the J-SOC main HQ all the way back in high orbit.

"Mike One Zero, Eagle One. Authenticate, over."

"Eagle One, One Zero. Authentication Zero-Alpha-Zulu-Two-Three-Tango, over."

"One Zero, Eagle. Authentication confirmed, send traffic, over."

"Eagle, One Zero. Relay for King Cobra. Mike One is on the ground and moving to the objective, ETA one hour. No enemy contact at this time. Going EMCON until Checkpoint Alpha, but will break EMCON if under contact. How copy, over?"

King Cobra was the frankly rather ludicrous Hollywood-esque callsign of the Joint Coalition Special Forces Headquarters - unsurprisingly, it was an OAG-chosen callsign. OAGEF doctrine favoured bland, rotating phonetics-based designations to hamper enemy eavesdropping attempts, whereas OAA (Orion Arm Army) and OAMC (Orion Arm Marine Corps) apparently just liked sounding cool. Well, Luke could sympathise with that.

"One Zero, Eagle, solid copy on relay for King Cobra, good hunting and any further traffic, over?"

"Negative Eagle. Mike One Zero out."

Luke replaced the handset and cocked the LMG-5 in front of his seat.

Twenty minutes later, the jeeps pulled up in a sandy wadi bed - Checkpoint Alpha. They were about half a mile from the city limits, clearly defined by a major road that ran along the west edge of the urban area.

They'd already crossed Geonosian Route One - the main north-south highway - two miles back. Civvie traffic had been non-existent, thanks to the OAGN's never-ending enthusiasm for hammering road infrastructure - major junctions, roundabouts, etc - with ground-penetrating ordnance to mess up the road surface and disrupt transport.

They'd had to wait a few minutes for the headlights of a north-bound military convoy to disappear, but it appeared as if all civilian refugee traffic had ceased. Luke called in the location, direction and speed of the convoy just in case some hotshot OAG ground-attack pilot had the spare ordnance to make some pretty explosions.

Anyone with sense would have left by now. It's only a matter of days until Coalition forces arrive.

Luke and the Colour Sergeant both jumped out to have a peek over the wadi's edge. They were at the top of a long, gentle slope from this angle. The wadi itself cut away south shortly ahead, which was why they had located this exit point on satellite earlier.

There was only some sort of industrial facility on this side of the main road. Lights were out, with no movement.

Then the main road. Some traffic, but nothing military as far as Luke could see. All heading north. The streetlights were out across town, as well. Also, thanks to the OAGN's predilection for breaking other peoples' infrastructure.

The run from here was a straight shot. Down the hill, across the highway and then a two kilometre road to the target by the river.

"See anything unwelcome, Colour?" Luke asked, as they both scanned the terrain in front with high powered night vision scopes.

"Actually, boss, it's ain't so much as anything unwelcome, as a lack of anything unwelcome, if you get my meaning."

"Intel did say they pulled most everything to the South."

"Oh, I know that, sir. But at the target itself, I mean. There's no vehicles, boss. Nothing obvious, anyway."

"Huh." Luke refocused on the three-story manor house. No lights on inside or around it, but that was a basic precaution during air attacks, with which Geonosians had a lot of recent experience. No vehicles in front. No men on the gate.

"Oh joy. Intel fucked up again?"

"Maybe. Or the tangos are just being smart, sir."

"True. We haven't seen much of that from them, though."

"No sir, but there's always a first time."

"We assault as planned." Luke decided. "Two Rovers in through the front, two round the back to cut off escape."

"Mega, boss. Let's get on with this and go home." There was a crackle of gunfire in the city, some distance away to the north of the objective, from the tracers going straight up.

"Someone's a bit trigger happy."

"Just hope they don't spot us, sir."

The Geonosian refugees fleeing the fighting up the Golbah road were already pretty worried, especially since the main highway was already out. The view they received now did nothing to alleviate that.

One by one, four vehicles roared out of the darkness of the desert to the West. Each was a four-by-four blocky, wide oblong military jeep, with four seats.

Fishtailing slightly as the tires protested the sudden high-speed change from sand to tarmac, the four DPVs sped across the motorway and into the city proper. The soldiers riding them must have appeared almost alien in the headlights of the surprised Geonosian drivers - bulky armour and helmets in tan-white desert camo, with 'horns' of night vision sets flipped up, goggles and black balaclavas covering their faces.

Once across the road, they activated their NV again. The headlights of the civvie traffic would have blinded them otherwise.

"Mike One Zero to all drivers, gun it lads, we don't have all night."

The drivers reciprocated gleefully, hurtling down the deserted road towards the house.

"Eagle One, Mike One Zero. Passed the line of departure, two minutes to objective. Out."

Two minutes, ten seconds later, the target compound's gate - fortunately not a properly reinforced one - caved under the impact of two tons of Birmingham's finest automotive engineering.

The house had a long oval drive that split at the gate and ended at the house. Two DPVs went down each, just in case of return fire … of which there was none yet.

"Boss!" Thiyanx yelled. It was obvious what he meant.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Two guards rushed out the front door, holding blasters. They weren't in uniform, so probably not military, just thugs playing at bodyguard. They hesitated, just for a moment, apparently unsure of which pair of Landies to fire at.

Too long.

"Weapons free!"

Roegr's HMG immediately hammered out two five round bursts of half-inch lead. The guards jerked in a macabre dance of death as the high-velocity rounds tore them apart.

Two DPVs pulled up at the front door – Luke's one with an M2, and Mike One One with the Javlin while the others sped around the back. The operators remained in the turrets, covering the gate in case any Geonosian quick-reaction forces showed up to crash their private party.

Luke jumped out and sprinted up the steps, joined by five other Mandalorians at the still-open double doors. There were some sounds, faint panicked shouting and boots on stone floors coming from inside. They stacked up, three to each side.

"Flash and clear."

Two and half seconds later, the flashbang detonated inside with a thunderous roar.

Luke was the second man in on the left. Sergeant Ordo in front double-tapped a stumbling, blinded armed man straight in front of him then turned left, covering his sector. Luke was a pace behind him, covering straight in front. His motion tracker, tracking movement in the house. Four on the ground floor, that the other team would deal with. One upstairs.

Movement. Top of the stairs.

The infrared aiming laser of Luke's M416 - brand new, 'borrowed' from a friendly OAGMC armorer - rose to cover the railing, glowing bright green in the night vision system.

A man rushed out of a room and up to the banister.

Luke fired, a three-round burst sending the target flying back.

A second flashbang announced the entry of the other team at the rear of the building.

"Clear left!"

"Clear right!"

"Clear centre!" Luke announced. "Room clear. Ryder, Jendri, Ordo, upstairs. Roegr, Thiyanx, with me downstairs."

'On it." Ordo headed up the stairs with the other two in tow.

It took fifteen minutes to clear the rest of the house. His men reported in via radio as he walked back into the lobby: six targets down, including two more the backdoor team had killed, and two HVIs captured.

"Anyone interesting?" Luke asked as the second team dragged two already zip-tied and black-hooded prisoners in.

"Aye. This one's the Ace of Diamonds, and the other's the Five of Hearts, boss."

Luke whistled. "Well, it's a good night for us in Vegas."

In the most-wanted Geonosian playing card deck they'd been issued a month or so ago, the Ace of Diamonds was Lieutenant General Tikriti, the fourth most wanted on the list after Poggle and his two sons. Tikriti had been Poggle's bodyguard, later personal secretary and head of the Special Security Organisation, a secret police outfit. He had been Poggle's right-hand man, from his home tribe, and one of his most trusted subordinates - a big fish.

The other, the Five of Hearts, was the owner of the house; Rachni. He had been interior minister until a year ago, when he'd been repeatedly shot in the leg and stomach by Poggle's son in an argument, and retired after his leg was amputated in surgery. He was a smaller fish, but a target nonetheless.

"Caught them heading towards the back door. There's a civvie Nantex out there on the lawn. Pilot was one of the ones with them."

"Escape via Nantex? That's pretty suicidal with us holding air superiority." Luke looked up. "Anything else?"

"Yeah boss." Ordo handed him a stack of files, a few inches thick. "Found 'em in an office upstairs. "You might find the top one amusing."

Luke raised an eyebrow and flipped open the top folder. He read for a few seconds, then started laughing.

"What?" Hamilton asked.

"It's a memo, in Geonosian Hive, detailing the many reasons why Geonosis should not pursue weapons of mass destruction. Including the likely increased risk of invasion by the OAG." Luke shook his head as he folded it shut. "The irony is painful, considering nobody's found a single trace of WMD's, but it's not our problem. Get these two stashed securely in the jeeps out back then bring them round to the front again. I'll call it in."

The Land Rovers didn't have much room what with all the extra weapons mounts, but they hadn't been loaded down with desert supplies this time for such a short term mission, so there was some empty space either side and behind the rear gunner's seat, to which the prisoner's wrists would be handcuffed to prevent them causing trouble or escaping. It was going to be a bumping, bruising ride for them, but they'd survive.

Luke and the men from the front ran back out to their vehicles.

"Eagle One, Mike One Zero, relay for King Cobra. Direct patch, priority message, over."

"Copy Mike One Zero, patching you through." There were a few seconds of static, then a few more of random beeping tones, like a dial-up modem as the radio's crypto software synchronised with Coalition Joint Special Forces Command.

"Mike One Zero, King Cobra. Eagle says you have traffic, send message, over."

"King Cobra, Mike One Zero. Sit-rep. Objective DRAGON secured. Six times enemy KIA, two times hotel-victor-india captured. Say again, two times hotel-victor-india captured. Identities are King of Diamonds and Five of Spades, over."

There was a couple of seconds of apparently stunned silence. "Good hunting, Mike One Zero." Luke was fairly certain he could hear cheering in the ops centre behind the radio operator, which he sympathised with. The Spec-Ops portion of the invasion after initial success had mostly consisted of failure after failure due to bad information on WMD locations; they could use some good news. "Don't suppose there's any sign of the Ace of Spades as the intel suggested, over?"

"Negative on Ace of Spades, King Cobra. Advise ground forces secure objective to do a more detailed check for intel. We've already found some good stuff just during the assault, over."

'Copy that, One Zero. Will relay that to Task Force Antlantic. Wait one for further orders."

Further orders? What the hell, we just finished the mission.

Hmmm … the gunfire earlier. Someone else's team getting shot up?"

"Mike One Zero, this is King Cobra Actual."

Holy shit, the big cheese.

Actual was an OAG three-star named Major General Doug Brown, the deputy commander of SOCOM and field commander of the Joint Special Forces Headquarters, coordinating the actions of the various multi-national SF groups spread all across Geonosis during the invasion phase.

"Priority mission tasking, approved by CENTCOM. Tel Aviv is requesting - politely - that we extract some of their operatives from Golbah. They have come under contact and have a man down, with hostile forces believed to be closing in. Since you're in the area, I want you to get to them first, over."

Well shit, that's a first. The Israelis NEVER ask for help.

Wait, the gunfire earlier was only, what, about half an hour ago? Wow. The bureaucracy's moved fast on this one.

"Corporal, any movement out there?"

"Yes sir, got a convoy that just came into sight on the road, heading north. Two kays away, fifteen miles an hour. A technical, two ... No, four three-tonner trucks, one armoured unit at the back, can't make out the type, might be a AAT, or one of those super tanks."

Luke pressed transmit. "We have positive on enemy movement, heading north into town. Send mission, over."

"Two friendlies located at grid three-two-five-five-eight-two-one-niner. Tel Aviv says they've bunkered down in a building with bare cinderblock walls, with a big green sign above the front window. Challenge will be Charlie-Charlie, response is Oscar-Oscar. Get there double-time, One Zero. Readback on orders, over."

"Copy grid three-two-five-five-eight-two-one-niner, cinderblock building with green sign, challenge Charlie-Charlie, response Oscar-Oscar. One Zero is Oscar-Mike, out."

Luke grabbed the map, quickly found and circled the Israeli's building, handing it to Thiyanx with a shouted "Get us here ASAP," above the roar of the V8s as the second team pulled around in front of the house. Thiyanx pulled out in front, as Luke pressed on the team radio's transmit button.

"Happy days, lads, the brass just gave us a new snap mission." He ignored the groans. "We're to extract a couple of Israeli operatives from a building just over half a klick north of here. Enemy forces are moving in on them. Follow my tail, weapons hot, let's make this quick; I want to get out of here before those Iraqi forces show up."

---

2262 January 31st Earth Standard Calendar, Mossad Operative Ziva David, Golbah Hive.

Ziva David, late of the IDF and very recently of Mossad swore creatively under her breath as she crouched by the window of her and her partner's impromptu safe house, and kept an eye - and her gun - on the unfortunate civilian occupants of the shop above which they'd hidden. This was not what she'd had in mind for her first mission.

They'd been tasked with assassinating a mid-level Geonosis internal security operative here in Golbah who had been a Mossad asset, or at least they'd thought he had been. He'd been a double agent, and had betrayed his handler to CIS intelligence; the handler had been captured, and later tortured and killed, and the tape sent to Mossad HQ. At first, Tel Aviv assumed it was just bad luck - shit happens, as they say, especially in a business as dangerous as covert espionage - but when intel surfaced that the 'asset' in question had been a plant all along, then it became a matter of professional honour.

No one screws with Mossad. Ever. Especially not a bunch two-bit amateurs who fondly referred to themselves as CIS Intelligence. That was just embarrassing.

While not ideal from a timing perspective, the chaos of the invasion would have made it unlikely the hit would be traced back to Mossad. Random looters or even a simple stray round would be more likely explanations in these conditions. Once the target was down, they'd sit tight and wait for coalition troops to pass by their position before getting out of town using pre-arranged covers as war reporters.

It hadn't gone down like that. While scouting the target's house, a two-man patrol of Driod soldiers had spotted them climbing a wall and had opened fire, assuming they were looters. Ziva and her partner, Eyal Lavin, had returned fire but he'd been hit in the leg, the heavy rifle round nicking an artery or something from the sheer amount of blood. If he didn't get proper medical help soon, Eyal would bleed out.

She'd dragged him back to this building and secured a makeshift tourniquet and bandage before calling Tel Aviv on a secure satellite phone and reporting in. Mossad HQ had told her to stay put, that they were going to try something a little off the wall.

Unbeknownst to Ziva, her father had called a friend and contact in the OAG intelligence community; specifically, Doug Brown, and damn near begged for help. Brown, surprised that a legendarily stubborn bastard like Eli David would beg for anything at all, cleared it with his superior, CENTCOM's commander General Franks, and checked to see who was in the area; re-tasked a nearby SF patrol, then informed Tel Aviv.

All Ziva knew was that their handler had told her that extraction was a few minutes away, and the challenge response.

The result, from Ziva's point of view?

Deliverance. In the form of four heavily armed open top Land Rovers, engines purring loudly in the quiet night, slowing to a halt outside the shop.

Then, in a British accent, "Charlie Charlie!"

With great relief, Ziva answered. "Oscar Oscar! Up here!"

The English guy continued, "Okay, I'm coming up."

A clattering of booted footsteps announced his arrival on the second floor. The door swung open, admitting a six foot five soldier in bulky armour and helmet, the desert uniform outlining him in the dark room like a ghost. A very well-armed one.

"Higher said you had a casualty. How bad is he?"

"Bad." Ziva replied, getting up from the window. "He's hit in the leg, I had to put a tourniquet on." For some reason, the guy seemed familiar but she couldn't place where ...

"Roegr, Archer! T-One casualty, catastrophic bleed, right thigh. Room at the top of the stairs."

From outside, a muffled, "Coming boss!"

The Delta commander flicked a flashlight over the room, settling on the cowering civilians, a husband, wife and two kids, in the back corner. "Oh hell. Wn'hun luun y'edyke, t'kun had'eha."

Geonosian. 'We're not going to hurt you, be calm.' Impressively fluent too.

The father still looked scared, but nodded.

Two more men burst in, both in blue and silver Mandalorian armour. One went straight to Eyal, the other started unfolding a stretcher. The first man, the commander she assumed, also joined the medic, to give him light to work with. The outburst that followed was unexpected, to say the least.

"Eyal! Son of a … wake up! Eyal!."

Wait, he knows Eyal?

Groaning, Lavin opened his eyes, drowsy from the morphine she'd given him. "Luke? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Pulling your ass out of the fire, man. I thought you were with Sayeret Matkal?"

"How about that?" Even drugged to the gills on morphine, Eyal wasn't going to give anything away, even to an apparent friend.

"Fair enough. Sergeant, how long?"

The medic finished wrapping another bandage around Eyal's thigh, and checked the tourniquet. "Seems fine. We need to get him to the VTOL ASAP, sir, before he loses his leg to the tourniquet."

"Got it. Get him on the stretcher, then into the back of Ordo's vehicle. You, miss …?"

"Ziva."

The flashlight spun to her face, blinding her for a moment. "Ziva David? I knew I knew that voice!"

Wait, what the hell? The only member of the Delta I've ever met was that guy in Eilat ...

Oh. Eyal called him Luke, so ...

"Officer Sparrow, I presume?"

"Commander now, Miss David. Jesus, it's like old home week around here."

"You know both of them, boss?"

"Yeah. Talk about coincidences. Met Ziva here during a terrorist attack in Isreal back when I joined the Military," Luke was interrupted by his radio, to which he listened for a few seconds.

"Move it lads, Ordo says he can see enemy infantry a few hundred metres back the way we came, but they haven't seen us yet. Ziva, you'll ride with me. Roegr, stay with the casualty when you've got him loaded."

"Yes sir. Archer, ready?"

"Yep, on three. One, two, three!" They hefted the stretcher and manoeuvred it down the stairs, with Ziva and her newly re-acquainted saviour following, after telling the Geonosians not to call the authorities, and apologising to them for the blood.

Of all the strange coincidences …

Luke shook his head as he slid into the driver's seat of One Zero. Very few things in the intelligence community were random events, but sometimes it was just too ludicrously improbable for anything else.

Meeting up with Ziva and Eyal - with whom he'd exchanged some emails since their joint training exercise - in the middle of war-torn Geonosis? Not even Mossad could have come up with a plan so convoluted it required one of their agents to be shot just so they could be rescued by a foreign spec ops team that might never have been sent in at all.

Still, it might become irritating. Not Ziva's fault of course, but OAG Military intelligence had blocked several increasingly Machiavellian attempts by Mossad's deputy director to find and get his hands on Luke's unredacted file in the last few months. It seemed he was an item of some interest to Ziva's father, an unknown quantity, a wildcard who might change the game.

And if there is anything spymasters dislike, it is an unknown element in their future schemes.

Luke had a feeling this little rescue op - the second time Luke had saved his daughter - would heighten that curiosity.

Even as he was putting the DPV into gear and moving out, Luke reached across to Ziva's side of the vehicle and retrieved the radio handset. Ziva herself was already manning the LMG-5 in a very professional manner without needing to be told how. No longer the shaken-up partly-trained girl like she was Eilat, it seemed.

"King Cobra, Mike One Zero. Message, over."

"Mike One Zero, King Cobra Actual. Send traffic."

Jesus, the three-star's still on the line? He must be very interested in this rescue op.

"Secondary mission complete, friendlies retrieved, one wounded. Extracting to LZ Alpha now, ETA one hour, over."

"Copy that, Mike One Zero. Stalker One One and One Two will be at LZ Alpha in seven zero minutes, repeat seven zero minutes."

"Copy extraction in seven zero minutes. Mike One Zero out."

Luke clipped the handset on his side, nearer to hand. "So, following in the family business, Ziva?"

"Yes," was her clipped answer. "How do you know Eyal?"

"Joint training mission with Sayeret Matkal, two years ago," Luke answered easily as he drove one handed around a car abandoned in the street. "Just before that incident in Eilat."

Ziva closed her eyes for a moment. The pain, grief and raw anger of Talia's death still remained, barely decreased. She'd channelled it into her Mossad training, which combined with the 'training' her father had given her in her childhood had accelerated her through the basic programme.

"I'm sorry about your sister, Ziva." The British officer said, in a quiet tone that barely carried over the engine noise. "I didn't really say it properly that night."

Ziva looked over at him, evaluating him properly. She'd been first embarrassed, then panicked, then grieving the last time they'd met. She'd admit the memory of him protecting her, with his own body no less, and gunning down those terrorists who tried to kidnap her had risen to the surface a few times during training, mostly when she was being introspective - weak, her father would call it - wondering if joining Mossad had been the right thing, if she'd done it for the right reasons.

She'd applied even before that bloody night in Eilat, but Talia's death had twisted her thoughts more than she'd thought. Whereas before she'd thought of joining Mossad in terms of serving her country, Ziva had come to realise she now saw it as a means of revenge, which was decidedly not conducive for a long career, or other important things, like continued breathing. She was still working through that rough patch when this mission came up; her first, with Eyal along as her training officer and partner.

She'd often wondered why Luke bothered to protect her that night. Sure, he was in the firing line too, but he'd gone well out of his way to save her, even using his own body to shield her in the street, and again behind the hotel desk. He'd had no reason to sacrifice his life for hers - hell, he hadn't even known her name for most of it, and she'd had a gun to his head! She was of course thankful, but that unthinkingly altruistic attitude had intrigued her, made her wonder if she could ever act so selflessly.

Looking at him now, it was clear he was a soldier to the core. He was in his natural element, comfortable in the directed chaos of warfare, secure in the knowledge that he knew how to manage the chaos, how to steer his team through the dangers as best he could and accomplish the mission. In fact, it was so obvious she wondered how on earth she hadn't seen him for what he was when she first caught sight of him in that club. She turned back to the machine gun.

A few seconds later they pulled out of the side streets and across the main road west of Golbah, and all hell broke loose.

Luke cursed his stupidity as they pulled out onto the road … and not twenty metres away to the left was the lead vehicle of that slow-moving Geonosian convoy Thiyanx had spotted earlier. He should have stopped short and checked the route was clear, dammit. Too late now.

"CONTACT LEFT! ENGAGE ENEMY VEHICLES!"

Thiyanx, apparently prescient, already had his HMG swung in the right direction. He immediately squeezed the double-thumb butterfly trigger of the M2, the heavy calibre rounds pulverising the engine and cab of the pickup-truck technical in the lead, with a CIS-made light machine gun mounted on its roof. The enemy gunner didn't stand a chance, as the armour-piercing-plasma-high-explosive (HEPAP) bullets punched straight through the thin metal of the unarmoured vehicle and turned the driver, the gunner and the four men crouching in the cargo bed into so much mincemeat, before moving onto the next truck.

Ziva joined in a half-second later, the 7.62mm LMG-5 spitting tracers into the driver's compartment of the second vehicle, a canvas-sided three-ton military truck. Luke was very aware of her vulnerability right now - she was completely unprotected, as the SF-modded Land Rovers had no doors, and little armour. She didn't even have personal body armour like he and his men did.

Staying professional, he issued orders into the radio net in a calm voice as he accelerated straight across the dual carriageway. There are very few things more panic-inducing to a military unit than a superior officer losing his cool on the radio, even for truly elite soldiers like the Mandalorians.

"All vehicles, breakaway, breakaway! Suppress the enemy, maximum rate fire and Stay. On. My. Six."

Thiyanx continued to rake the remainder of the convoy with HMG fire, but Ziva's dashboard-mounted LMG-5 now couldn't traverse around far enough as they had crossed the road and were heading back out into the desert.

The droids seemed to be recovering, as infantry dismounted from the trucks and spread out to either side of the road.

Their cohesion lasted only momentarily, however, as first Mike One Two, with another HMG, then Mike One Three, with the automatic grenade launcher, sped out of the side street behind the Javlin-equipped Mike One One, which, armed with anti-tank missiles, wasn't equipped for firing on infantry. The second HMG immediately started chewing up the sand and tarmac around the dispersing soldiers, while the rapid-fire 40mm grenades marched small explosions up and down the convoy.

Needless to say, the not-very-well-trained and badly-led Geonosian conscripts panicked.

The four Land Rovers sped off as fast as the terrain would allow. It was rocky, but within the tolerances of the suspension and ground clearance, which made for a fast but rather bouncy ride.

Two hundred metres into the desert, a tracer from a BIG gun zipped past overhead.

"Shit! AAT REAR! At the back of the convoy!"

"Engage with Javlin." Luke ordered. "All vehicles split up, all heavy weapons focus on the AAT to throw his aim off."

Thank god for shitty CIS equipment, Luke thought as he stamped yet again on the accelerator and spun the wheel left.

Another enemy shell chewed up the ground between One Zero and One One, now thirty metres behind and stationary to allow the anti-tank launcher to be stabilised.

A few seconds later came the 'THUMP-hiss' of the Javlin wire-guided missile being fired. Given the short range and high speed of the projectile - 200 metres a second - the missile impacted the side armour AAT before the gunner could fire again.

The first-stage charge, designed to defeat modern first-layer explosive reactive armour, punched straight through, allowing the main warhead to detonate inside the vehicle instead of blowing though the second armour layer as normal; this was about six inches away from its ammunition storage and two feet from the fuel tank.

A Deuterium fuel tank, as it happened. Very volatile stuff Deuterium.

The resultant explosion was impressive to say the least. The armoured turret blasted ten metres straight up on a pillar of white-orange fire, flipped at the top of its arc, and came down the wrong way up, next to the vehicle it originated from. The rear door and drivers hatch also burst open, and the AAT ignited in white-hot flames that would burn for days, probably.

"Target destroyed," said a very satisfied voice on the net.

"Good shooting," Luke answered. "All Mikes, regroup at Checkpoint Alpha in fifteen, out."

Sixty-four minutes after picking up the Mossad operatives, Patrol Mike One pulled into a defensive formation a hundred metres from the landing zone.

"So, what exactly were you doing in Golbah?" Ziva asked, after he'd turned the engine and checked in with the other vehicles.

"Prisoner raid." Luke jerked a thumb at the other jeeps. "ONI got intel on a meeting at Rachni's house in Golbah, and some sketchy reports that the biggest fish around might be swimming in."

"You caught Poggle?"

"No such luck. We got Tikriti, and Rachni. No sign of Poggle."

"Damn. That would have been a good break for you guys." Ziva commented.

"True. I'm just as happy he wasn't there, really. Probably would have had better guards, and more of them. We're very good, but it only takes a lucky shot and suddenly I'm a man down with a casualty to extract. Doesn't matter how elite you are, a laser taking a chunk out of you is going to take you out of the fight."

"Yeah. I'm … familiar with that now." Ziva said tiredly. "Which one has Eyal in?"

Luke swung out. "Follow me."

He led her over to One One. "How's he doing, Sergeant?"

"Stable for the moment boss. I've replaced the emergency tourniquet with a proper, wider one of ours - tightened it before removing the first one. Blood loss is minimal; he shouldn't lose the leg."

"Good." Luke checked his watch as Ordo joined them. "Warbirds here in five, Colour."

"Great. This was easier than most, but that last bit was a tad hairy."

"It's the job we chose, Ordo."

"And I'm getting too old for it. Now what's this about you knowing our Israeli guests, sir?"

"Well, I did a joint training mission with Eyal here in Israel couple years back. I met Ziva at the end of that, on leave in Eilat down on the Red Sea, in that shootout I mentioned. Insurrectionist remnants tried to kidnap her, rather incompetently."

"Huh. Small galaxy, it seems." Ordo nodded to Ziva, then looked up and gestured to the West. "There they are."

The thudding beat of repulse engines could indeed be heard. "Okay, same two pairs as before Colour."

"You got it, sir."

A few minutes later saw the two Land Rovers driven up into the bellies of the Warbird HLV, tied down and secured. Luke and Ziva stayed in the front seats while the rest of Luke's men crashed on the deck, the two of them talking privately through intercom headsets kindly separated from the rest of the net by the loadmaster for the trip home. Four hours of flying definitely gave them time to chat.

Luke was reticent, at first, aware that his file - to Mossad, at least - was thin at best, and wanting to keep it that way. But he still opened up a bit, telling her about his life and stories from his time in the Expeditionary Force, though none of it in great detail. Ziva also relaxed quite a bit, talking about her own childhood and amusing anecdotes from IDF service. Eventually, she got around to asking something that, up until she asked it, she hadn't actually realised she wanted to know.

"Why do you do this?"

"What, soldiering?"

"Yes."

"Why did you join Mossad?"

Evasion. Answering questions with questions.

"You first."

Sparrow - Luke, she corrected herself, laughed. "Damn. Well … a good friend of mine once said I have a 'saving-people thing.' Joining the military … seemed like a logical extension of that."

Ziva looked at him curiously. He noticed. "Does that surprise you?"

"I was expecting something along the lines of 'for God, Queen and Country.'" Ziva admitted. "By 'saving people' do you mean other soldiers, or anybody?" Given his actions in Eilat, she had a fairly good idea of which, but wanted to be sure.

"Anyone," he said firmly. "Anyone who needs it, who deserves it."

"So you're judge, jury, executioner?"

He grimaced. "I suppose, in a way, although I don't usually see it like that. I just have to make my own decisions out here. On the surface, to the public back home, the world's a reasonably happy place. Government's accountable, mostly transparent, democracy rules, etcetera, etcetera. But we don't live in that world, do we? We're in the shadows, fighting battles no-one will ever hear about, in a war that will never end."

"The clone War?"

"No, not just the Clone War. Since the Insurrectionist wars, there has only been one year where no OAG soldier has died in combat with the, or perhaps more accurately, an enemy - 2601, if you're interested. History remembers the big conflicts, but the general public hasn't really recognised yet that war is no longer about states battling in the open for economic or political supremacy. The new war is in the shadows; and as I said, it'll probably never end. It may wax and wane in intensity, but for people like us, the covert warriors, there's always going to be some new threat to track down and eliminate. Doesn't matter if that's a terrorist, a drug kingpin or a black market weapons dealer - there will always be those who profit off, or find power from playing off people's misery; and most of the galaxy is pretty miserable. That produces desperate people, and desperate people often lash out or do other stupid things, which requires our governments to send people like us to deal with them in order to protect our citizens, preferably away from the public eye so the stock market doesn't take a hit, which would cause economic damage to livelihoods, and so on and so forth, since everything is interconnected these days. There's a George Orwell quote that's rather relevant to this, you probably know it."

"The rough men."

"Yep."

"Is that how you see the War? Economic and political, rather than fundamentalism? Republic vs Separatist? Jedi vs Sith?"

Luke snorted. "Jedi vs Sith? The Sith platform is phrased in traditional Sith fundamentalist terms, sure, and I have no doubt that it's not 'just for show'. But their end objective is the formation of a Sith controlled galaxy - that's political and economic, not just ideological. Nations require rulers, and budgets, and economies, and laws. Their much-beloved code or Law is by all accounts is medieval, completely outdated and frankly the top extremist Sith leaders and Sith followers have probably realised it - after all, the Sith theocracy hasn't done all that well since the Old Republic, have they? The Fundamentalists' spend as much time trying to find loopholes in or simply outright ignoring the tenets of the Sith to attack their political - and more importantly, their Sith political opponents than they do fighting us. Obviously its more complex than that, but that's something to chew on."

He turned back to her, smirking. "Red herring's over. Your turn to answer."

Ziva shrugged. "I asked because ... because I don't know why I want to do this job. Or more precisely, I'm not sure why."

"Hmm … hate and anger will lead to the dark side, you know." Luke said, remembering a brief conversation with Jedi Master Yoda.

Ziva stared at him. "How on earth did you get that from one sentence?"

"When I mentioned Eilat before, you looked … sad, I guess. Not really something I can put my finger on, I just saw it."

"You don't miss anything, do you."

"Missing stuff gets you killed in this business." Luke grimaced. "Like I should have parked up out of sight and recced the road before just driving straight across in front of that convoy like a complete FNG. You're deflecting again, give it up."

"You're right." Ziva admitted. "I haven't been able to separate Tali's death …" she stopped to take a breath, which proved her point really, "from the job. When I train, or get handed a mission, all I see is a way to hit back at the mamzers who murdered my little sister."

"And that's the trick, isn't it? Sorting out the job from the anger."

"Any ideas?"

Luke shrugged just like Ziva had done. "I don't have all the answers, and this one is yours to find. You need to sit down and figure out why you're doing this. If the answer's purely revenge, that might be a problem. If revenge is only a part of it, then you need to learn to control it; to channel it and ride the tiger, so to speak, or to block it completely. Either way, you need to recognise when you're motivated by revenge and not duty."

"Duty." Ziva repeated, thinking about it. "Strangely, I don't think I'd thought of it like that. Service to my country and people, yes. Revenge, yes. Duty … not so much. I wonder why?"

"Duty is a defined as a moral obligation," Luke looked at her piercingly. "I doubt your father cares much for ethics."

Ziva flushed slightly and looked away as she worked out what he was implying, that her father's endless lectures and 'training' of her and her sister - that she'd just told him a bit about - had indoctrinated her to a life of 'service' in Mossad and to Israel as a whole rather than instilling an ethical responsibility to the same, that would have made it a choice she'd made rather than him. A man who rose as high as Eli David in an agency famed for its ruthless devotion to Israel's security probably didn't care much for ethical quandaries in his work … or raising his children.

What does that make me? A slave to my father's manipulations?

"But that doesn't define you." Luke continued, as if he'd read her thoughts. "You're good at this, Ziva. You're well trained, cool under fire. Don't throw the idea of 'service to Israel' away just because your father put the idea in your head. Just make sure you recognise that it's a duty, as well. Make the choice to serve your own."

"What does that mean, though? That I should decide which orders to follow?"

"Yes," Luke answered bluntly, surprising her, before shrugging. "And no. We aren't mindless drones. 'I was just following orders' wasn't a defence at Nuremberg for the Holocaust, and it doesn't work now either - especially not for Israelis given the context of that example, no offence intended."

"None taken. A point well made." Ziva nodded, then raised an eyebrow. "Anything more to say? You are, how do they say, on a turn here."

"I do, actually." Luke told her mock-reprovingly. "And it's 'on a roll.' What I was going to say was that a good soldier follows orders, but in my opinion the best soldier knows when to disobey them. Orders can be illegal, or unethical, or just plain wrong if your superiors don't have all the information that you might have on the ground. So follow orders, but actually think them through too, if you have the time, which won't always be the case. At the end of the day, we are responsible for our own actions, and the consequences rest on our own shoulders, not those who give the orders."

Sunlight burst in through the left hand windows, as the loadmaster pushed up the covers on the windows. A brand new day.

"How far from Camp Udairi?" Luke asked him.

"Thirty minutes, sir."

"Fantastic, thanks." Luke turned back to Ziva.

"Found some answers, I hope? Half an hour more of free consultation time, beyond that the rates for my Dr Phil impression go up quite a bit."

Ziva laughed, a lighter, genuine laugh, feeling happier and more secure than before. She might not have the exact answers just yet, but she was a hell of a lot closer than she'd been before this mission. "Thanks. I needed that. All of that."

Luke grinned at her, the harsh scars and weathered look vanishing, leaving behind a man about her age with a wide, genuine smile. He had his secrets, she was sure, but there was no way in hell Luke Sparrow was anything less than totally honest and honourable in everything he did. Of that, she was completely certain. There was a spark there, an indomitable will and commitment to his principles she was sure nothing would ever break.

Of course, it didn't hurt he was pretty easy on the eyes, despite the tiredness and the dust.

Codex Update

Vigil-class corvette

Vigil-class corvette contained some weapons at the dorsal area of the ship, as well as a large dish. The command deck was flush with the hull near the main drive thrusters, providing a smaller profile. The corvettes mounted three twin heavy Plasma turrets on the dorsal hull, along with three twin light Plasma turrets. Various Plasma cannons used in an anti-Starfighter role were scattered around the hull. It has a crew of 2000 men and can carry 2000 troops with consumables for 1 year. Its main role is electronic warfare, intelligence gathering and Starfighter command and control hub.

Gladiator I-class Star Destroyer

The Gladiator-class was a small Star Destroyer. A ventral protrusion on the hull appeared to cover the ship's main reactor, but was also the location of several cannons. The class had two main thrusters and no visible secondary thrusters. It possessed an array of capital-grade torpedo or Archer missile launchers and Plasma Cannon emplacements. Torpedo loading bays were located deep inside the ships, with automated loading arms controlled from a console next to the conveyor belt that fed munitions to the launchers. The total number of guns installed was 25 light Plasma Cannons, 10-point defense plasma cannons, 10 medium Archer missile launchers. The Star Destroyer class was characterized by its extensive hangar area, with an opening in the bow of the vessel, that split the forward superstructure in two. The hangar had enough room for several Starfighters to enter or exit at the same time.A complement of 24 fighters was usually carried to support small frontier worlds and attack pirates. It was manned by a crew of 1225 men and could carry 2000 troops. It had consumables for two years and was 500m long.

Warbird HT/HLV

The Warbird Heavy Transport was a larger version of the Warbird VTOL. It was mainly used to transport the Vehicles of the OAG. The Warbird Heavy Lifting VTOL was used to transport either larger than normal amounts of troops or Special forces team with their Light armoured Vehicles.