Delays in posting are becoming a habit of late. My apologies. I've had so much on my plate lately. Most of you are in school or university, and/or trying to balance a job and a life. I'm no different. I own two businesses, and have a house, vehicles and other commitments to eat up my time. Rest assured that I will not abandon this project. It's been a labor of love, ten years in the making. I am also dedicated to seeing it through, as I can hardly believe the views this story is getting. I had hoped from the start that I could share this novel with as many people as possible. Over 7,000 views! Seeing 100 hits on one chapter this month already is...wow. I have nothing but gratitude for all of you and the support you have given. I wish I had more feedback from you all, but just knowing that so many of you have come to love this story and the characters means the world to me, truly.

So with that my friends, I submit to you the next instalment of "Imperials". I know you've waited wth baited breath for it, so I will keep you no longer. Enjoy, and drop me a comment.

Five kilometers away, General Veers' Armored column was having troubles of their own. Despite having over twenty GAVs, including five troop transports, seven TX-225 GAVw Combat Assault Tanks, and three massive, ten-wheeled HCVw A9.2 juggernaut transports, they were still being waylaid by the insurgents in the city. The six speeder bikes in the convoy had been destroyed almost immediately after entering the city, three of the riders killed. The remaining scouts had clamored into a nearby Occupier Tank, where they began shooting frantically from out of the weapons ports. The only tank in the column with repulsorlifts had hit a crude anti-vehicular mine and was destroyed shortly after.

Sitting in the vehicle commander's seat of the lead armored troop transport, General Veers grunted and picked up his handset. He paused momentarily, his finger over the Vox switch, as he watched a rocket of some kind fired from the top of a nearby building with a detached curiosity. It skittered across the roof of his lead transport with a screeching sound, then exploded against the building to his right. His driver, a young trooper, let out a swear as he drove. Veers gave a single exasperated shake of his own head, and pressed the switch.

"General Veers to aerial recon units, we need clear directions to Commander Tharcourt's position, over." He stated in his normal, calm voice.

"Roger that, General. Go three blocks down, and take a left. Then travel six blocks and take a right." The voice of the combat controller in the large twin-cockpit TIE high above advised.

"Understood." Veers answered. "Take a left up here." He held onto the crash bar as the driver drifted the transport in a mad turn. More blaster bolts pinged off of the armor of the vehicle. He didn't have to guess if the rest of the convoy had followed. "Stop! Stop!" The general ordered, and the driver skidded the transport to a halt just before a pile of garbage, scrap metal and two burning speeders in the road. Veers growled. Another roadblock. This made the fourth they'd encountered so far, each one leading them on another wild bantha chase through the city.

"Sir, the driver of my GAV's hit, sir!" A frantic voice came over the communications array. Maximillian Veers could already hear his troopers dismounted and firing back at the hostiles on the roofs and in the alleyways, and he haphazardly threw open the hatch to the transport and strode out. Blaster bolts flew past him as he walked back to the fourth vehicle in line, one of the transports. He opened the driver's hatch to see something he'd never witnessed before; the driver, barely conscious, had a smoldering projectile lodged in his left side, the tip of the rocket-propelled munition poking out of the plastoid armor above his right hip. The shell had passed cleanly through the thinly armored hatch, and stopped inside of the hapless trooper.

"There's a kriffing rocket in him, sir!" The panicked corporal in the next seat exclaimed. Veers composed himself.

"That's live ordnance, son. Now get out!" General Veers ordered. The corporal nodded nervously, and quickly exited the transport. "Now help me get him out, trooper." The stormtrooper obeyed, helping his commander heft the dying man out of the driver's seat, and to the back of the vehicle. They loaded him into the back, alongside two more wounded soldiers. Veers gave the corporal another stern look. "Can you drive, corporal?" An explosion down the street.

"Y…Yes sir."

"Then you'd better do it." With that, the general straightened his helmet and walked unflinchingly back to the lead transport, where his driver was busy firing a small blaster pistol from the narrow slit in the hatch.

"Repeat, be advised, you have to turn around and go back two blocks then take a right…do you copy?" The observer's voice stated over the speaker in the cab. Veers gave a short 'Roger', and slapped his driver's arm.

"Turn around, we have to go back." He sighed.

"Turn around? Back into the city?" The young armor driver cried breathlessly. "Holy farkle, they're gonna get us all killed, sir!"

"Then we'd might as well get it over with, trooper, now turn around."

The convoy jumbled up as some of the vehicles couldn't execute a turn on the narrow roadway, and had to back up the entire distance to the correct road. In the process, two more troopers were wounded, including one in Veers' own transport. They headed down the side street, every blaster cannon on every vehicle at work, firing into buildings as they raced down the road. Veers knew that if he couldn't make it to Commander Tharcourt's position, the entire unit could be overrun and killed, along with the Moff and his entourage. General Maximillian Veers was determined not to let that happen.

"Control, control…this is General Veers." He stated into his vehicle's handset as the convoy raced down another street.

"This is Captain Piett, General." The officer's voice returned. "What is your status?"

"My convoy is currently still five klicks from Commander Tharcourt's position." Veers reported. "We can't make any bloody headway in this city. Any word on my walkers?"

"General Funsdon says that since you failed to deem him of this classified mission, it'll take hours to get The Agitator in orbit, and the walkers onboard prepped for a landing mission. He…"

"Listen…Captain…" Veers growled. "Those men have half of this city coming down upon them. You tell General Funsdon that those are my walkers, and I want them yesterday. Make sure he understands…if we don't get Commander Tharcourt and his unit out of here soon, there's going to be twenty bodies to space tomorrow!" There was a long silence over the radio as Piett relayed Veers' message to Funsdon, and a blaster bolt ricocheted off of the armored viewport of the transport.

"The walkers will be there in a couple of hours…" Piett said in a defeated tone. "Get them out, General…no matter what it takes. Get Tharcourt and his troopers out."

"Understood, and WilCo with pleasure." Veers stated. An explosion occurred in front of the vehicle and the driver sped through the flames.

"Gah…geez!" The young trooper exclaimed. "I hope to the void he's worth all this!" Veers looked over.

"Son, Commander Tharcourt has done more for this Empire than any ten men. He's a soldier, a hero, and a personal colleague of mine. I'd have us all killed, myself included if it meant getting him out of this mess." The driver shook his head in understanding, and rammed a wrecked speeder out of his way.

By now, casualties were mounting in the convoy. Almost like clockwork, turret and door gunners were catching stray blaster bolts every few minutes. One of the transports had its propulsion disabled by rebel fire, and was effectively being pushed by one of the TX-225's. Another Transport was nearly full with a dozen wounded stormtroopers and two of the platoon officers. A pair of TIE fighters, dispatched from the Imperial safezone had been shot down by enemy AA fire, adding to the chaos.

It was obvious to the general what was happening; the capital city was in full revolt. The citizens were arming themselves with whatever weapons they could find, and turning their hatred on anything that looked Imperial. The situation was devolving fast. And somewhere out in the conflagration of growing rebellion was Commander Tharcourt and his unit, along with an Imperial Moff and his retinue. Veers knew Tharcourt's reputation, and his unit's record, but even a crack special forces outfit couldn't last long in a running street-battle like this. It was likely command would execute an aerial bombardment of the city if the lost unit couldn't be rescued, so it was imperative that he extricated them as soon as possible.

They continued down the road they were on, and the volume of fire was almost astounding. As they turned another corner, a slugthrower round hit the windshield, shattering the thin transparasteel, and sending shards exploding into the driver's bare face. The young trooper began shrieking and Veers looked over to see the driver's face covered in blood, his hands over his eyes.

"I can't see! I can't kriffin' see!" He screamed. The middle-aged Veers, in a rare display of athleticism, threw himself over the hump dividing their seats, and stomped his left foot on the driver's, flooring the throttle pedal, and he grabbed the yoke tightly.

"Keep driving! Keep your foot on the pedal!" The general shouted. "Keep your foot on that pedal! Don't stop!" They continued down the street, finally coming to another roadblock after six more blocks. Veers huffed, and picked up his handset.

"Recon, you have a clear path for us or not?" He demanded.

"Just a moment, general…" The voice answered. "…negative. Not in the immediate area. Be advised, local militia is setting up more roadblocks and fires, over. You have to turn around and head back. I can talk you through another route. Over." Veers tapped the receiver on the dash of the transport.

"Sir, there are only two men in my GAV able to operate, sir…" A sergeant advised from a vehicle somewhere in the column. General Veers sighed in frustration.

"Control, this is General Veers, come in." He grumbled.

"Captain Piett, general. Go ahead.

"Captain, my convoy is being shot to pieces down here." Veers advised. "Over fifty percent casualties, including my driver."

"Can you still reach Delta-7's position?" Piett inquired. The general looked to his driver, who was covered in blood.

"I can't see a damned thing, general." The young man whined. Veers winced.

"Negative, control." He said with a sigh. "With all of my killed and wounded…it would only exacerbate the situation."

"Understood." Piett said. "Return to base, and reoutfit. Then head back out."

"Copy." The general said solemnly. "Alright…take us back."

The reality of combat. Not so epic when it's your own side taking a beating, is it? Based on Black Hawk Down? Yes. A graphic visual of what urban combat is like? One-hundred percent. At least we got some time with General Veers, one of my favorite Imperial officers (not to mention one of the best and most competent Imps in the SW universe).

What will happen to Drakken, Freya and the rest of Delta-7? Will the convoy be able to reach them in time? Will they be able to save the Moff and his retinue, or will this be the first mission they fail? I will try to have a new chapter up soon. Until then my loyal readers, Cheerio.