"I-I-I don't know where he is, Marshal. I made it clear to the others, per your authority, to postpone routine maintenance."
"You best find where the Chief Engineer is, I'm going to break my foot off in his c'hurta for disobeying me like that. Right before I have him deactivated!"
"He hasn't answered any of my radio calls and no one's seen him as of yet today, Sir."
"Then find him or produce his corpse! He better be sick or dead!"
About that time, the room shuddered as if artillery nearby sounded off, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Seismic activity? Destructia was largely inert. A stable, terrestrial world chosen specifically for that reason. Before either of their questioning confusion could be voiced, the groaning creaks of strained metal within the walls was punctuated by the sound of fracturing, cracking concrete.
"Wh-"
The floor of the Marshal's office violently shifted, tilting and falling in broken sections several meters. There was solid ground beneath the Marshal's office during construction, what was this? A…hollow chamber? No logical source, rhyme, or reason could have caused such erosion on this world. The beguiled foreman was fortunate enough to avoid being buried alive in the collapse, coughing as he pulled himself free in the darkness.
"Wh- hack! The Irk *cough* was that?!" He hoarsely cried, fumbling about his equipment belt before finding his torch. "Marshal? Marshal Carric?"
The foreman's lamp flickered to life after a moment of percussive maintenance, expecting to find Destructia's administrative officer and leader. Instead, he saw the illuminated sheen of multi-faceted eyes in the several dozen as far as his lamp shone into the darkness. All color drained from his visage as he stood stock still in horror at what stared back at him. Gnashing mandibles, twitching antenna, and an awful cacophony of skittering.
"...Oh no…"
"What do you see down there?"
"Attack!" A female voice distantly echoed from the darkness…Irken?
The insect horde answered Carric's question for him as a horrendous screech of untold numbers of Vylatians rapidly overtook the foreman in a graphic display of evisceration and dismemberment by a sea of violent, sentient sea of soldiers pouring up from the cave through the breach.
"OH IRK!" Carric hesitated, the last thing he saw was the uncloaking of a Vortian in a muscle suit. That was a sight he recognized more than the Vylatians. The Marshal quickly fled the room. "Intruders! Alarm! Alarm!"
"Shit," the Vortian, none other than Lieutenant Commander Vorken of Bazmir team, sighed as he drew his plasma carbine after emerging from the hole in the floor. "IIA HVT evaded capture, you guys get the alarms turned off?"
"Affirmative, Bazmir." Vult's voice sounded through his comms. "Doubt it'll last long, use it to your advantage. Kiz and Sko will do what they can, but I recommend staying out of the Vylatians' way. I don't need to remind you why, over."
"Copy that, Bazmir, sound off."
"Prophet here, tearing through the living quarters now."
"Psycho here, Boss, rendering the armory useless."
"Invader, you there?" A few moments went by, no response, "Zhim."
"Sorry, Boss, just had to deal with an IIA Captain. All good."
"Excellent, proceed on mission. Our IIA HVT is on the loose. Try to capture him alive so we have an intel source."
Taking Vult's advice, the Vortian operative gave a wide berth to the newly-excavated opening in Marshal Carric's office. From it flowed an organic torrent of Vylatians. The larger, more-developed species' controlled tactics and precision sharply contrasted the horde of smaller lessers spreading across the floors with their smaller brethren taking to the walls and ceiling. Any crevice, crack, vent shaft, or conduit that could be found would take them elsewhere in the facility in short order to wreak havoc.
Once the tide ebbed from its wriggling masses, Kiz pulled herself up out of the sunken-in floor to join Vorken. The Major looked less like an Invader and more like a proper soldier in newly-produced Republican Guard uniform, armor, and weapons to match. A quick check of her rifle slung across her chest on-approach, she looked to the Vortian man.
"Last of the first wave in from our tunnel, second is staging." She informed the Lieutenant Commander before keying her comms. "Sko, status?"
Sko found himself alongside Vaukt's personal team, sporting a lighter version of their own power armor meant more for snipers and recon types. While the others may have stayed sporting Imperial black paint jobs with crossed out Empire insignia as a matter of nostalgia, Sko himself had his armor painted Republican gray, but otherwise keeping the same crossed out Imperial insignia as the others alongside his rank.
"We're good here. Wiping out the resistance in the motorpool. Most of the Troopers around here surrendered, poor bastards weren't even armed with anything but ratchets and wrenches. These armors still have a fearsome reputation among the ranks. The Vortian snipers seem to be having a field day with the reinforcements and anyone running away."
"The small ones are harder to hit." Reeshara added over the radio, "Slippery little bastards when they're afraid."
"Don't lead them so much, sister!" Ruk added with a laugh.
"That's nice and all but we're running into some trouble here!" Oxaris yelled over the comms, the recent arrivals, assigned to deal with the IIA barracks, started taking massive firepower headed in their direction. It seems after Vaukt's rebellion certain changes were made to IIA's footing and readiness. On Destructia, where they had a control remit, division sized units of IIA Enforcers took the bulk of the troops stationed, with Troopers meant to supplement the garrison rather than form it. These Enforcers also kept their armaments much closer at hand rather than in separate armories as before.
Five augmented Vortians were a massive force multiplier in their own way; but when facing down an entire housing block for an entire battalion of IIA Enforcers acting in an infantry role, especially with their latest additions being veterans of Vort, Orenk, Jakri, and even Vylat survivors, any advantage was swiftly negated.
However effective the shock-and-awe of the initial assault had been, once word made it across the planet something was afoul, coalition forces promptly found themselves thrown against a wall of organized resistance. Not even the Vylatian's tried-and-true closing horde tactics could break the bulwark of the garrisoned Irken troops. IIA Enforcers commanded the battlefield across Destructia, providing much-needed discipline, direction, and combat experience to the rank-and-file Troopers and Elites fresh from training simulators with their inspiring presence.
The largest of thorns in Buros' and the other sides as they were effectively pinned by accurate, sustained fire. No sooner than one man's rifle depleted, his squadmate's took up the slack, intermittently broken up with bursts of automatic fire.
"Thermite, Numbers, talk to me!" He bellowed over the chaos as plasma and mass-driven rounds continued to erode away at the reinforced concrete wall separating him from certain earth. "No visual!"
"One O'clock high, top of the wall, 200 meters!" Numbers responded, taking the risk to look and quickly ducking back in as a sustained burst from the Enforcers' machine gunners nearly stitched her to death.
"Strength?"
"Platoon! Maybe 2!"
"That's it?!" The team's leader queried in disbelief as a marksman's round ricocheted nearly eye-level with him, making him flinch in surprise.
"Why would I lie about that? One rifle or a thousand, they'll kill the same!"
"Sure as shit aren't the fresh meat we're dealing with!" Vyara yelled, taking cover as her plasma machine gun was to the point of nearly becoming a pile of slag.
A shot rang out, and to their surprise, a dead Trooper rolled into their ditch. An explosion outside followed, showering the SIS agents with dirt.
"You're welcome," Ruk sounded off over the radio, having taken out some bold trooper who tried to lob a grenade at them.
Thermite, unluckiest of them all, grimaced behind his visor while throwing the freshly-killed Irken off of him with disgust, huffing.
"Want my thanks? Do something about that MG team before we're all diced to festive confetti down here!"
"Standby." Rub calmly spoke as he settled into position some distance away. "Ruk, stop the runners. Range of your last round?"
"Eight hundred," Ruk replied as he shifted targets.
The marksman's twin brother made a fine-tune adjustment to his optic before drawing his cheek to the stock of his heirloom rifle. Cartridge chambered, safety disengaged, breathing controlled, his crosshairs steadily searched for the firefight raging in the distance from his concealed position on a bluff overlooking the facility.
"Valk me to the target. I see our team in the trench."
"Due North, North-East, 200 meters, elevated, platoon-strength!" Buros reiterated Numbers' assessment to the sniper.
Rub's reticle slowly transitioned in the direction given, finding the subtle movement of armored IIA Enforcers dug in deep from their elevated position, the area briefly illuminated with each muzzle flash. The brightest, more-sustained of them all drew his attention as it only ceased long enough for an assistant gunner to change the expended power cell for a fresh one.
"I have the target. Standby."
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Hold. Squeeze.
Rub's rifle cracked, sending a bolt streaking through the sky. The IIA gunner's head involuntarily snapped backwards from the round's impact, pulling back on the weapon as it pointed skyward with his fall.
"Target down."
"Thermite!" Buros called to his squadmate, signaling as he spoke to ensure the message was received over the cacophony battle. "Grenades, rockets, I don't care! I don't want it to exist!"
Vyara sprang, grabbing the rocket launcher off of Thermite's back, quickly running through prepping it for use. The short augmented woman rose out of the trench, shielding quickly faltering under a fusillade from IIA riflemen. She ducked down as soon as the rocket left the tube, an explosion's concussive force soon reverberated back to them.
"Solid hit, that gun won't be coming back," Ruk offered confirmation of a hit on the silenced MG nest.
The relief from enemy fire gave them all a collective sigh. Taking the deployment of ordnance and the faltering of suppression from the defenders as their cue, conventional coalition forces moved to reinforce their hard-fought gains.
"Night Witch to fleet, orbital defenses are deactivated. Vult, Orkos and the others are holding their own but we're being swarmed by IIA over here. We're doing what we can to turn the automated defenses to our side to take some of the pressure off. Could really use some help to stem the tide or we'll just have to do without."
A pause followed
"A tank?! Is that a fucking tank?!" Xora yelled over the radio.
"Det! Get out of th-" Orkos began before the sound of a cannon shot came over the radio.
"Fuck! Vult! Fucking tank just blew away Xora and Zop!" Aren was next to call out on the radio.
"Night Witch, Admiral Errus, VDF Valor. All allied assets are currently engaged with the Armada fleet at this time and unable to move to assist. Expedite recalibrating the planetary defenses against the Empire or we will be forced to disengage, over."
"Negative, Admiral. You pull the navy back, we're all dead." Vult declared over the din of battle in the background.
"Commander, we cannot commit to wholesale slaughter up here in good faith. Either bring those guns to bear against the Armada or we have to cut our losses, over."
"Damn it. Orkos, keep that tank busy!" Vara yelled over the comms.
"We do that, we're as good as dead! We don't have any anti-tank weapons anymore!"
"You better think of something, if we have to leave this console for any reason, say goodbye to turning the orbital defenses to our side."
"Vara!"
"Did I stutter?!"
"Status on those defenses?"
"Working on it, Sir!"
"Working on it isn't a time, Sergeant."
"Five minutes. Ten, tops."
"You have three, we'll be corpses in five."
"Left side! Left side! They're cutting through the door!"
"Breaching on the right!"
"Engage! Fire at will! Fir-"
*click*
Silence filled the amphitheater-like classroom full of engaged Cadets before Corr, equal measures stunned as they were enthralled by the now-paused recording of defining moments long since passed. A diverging point where what came before was shrouded in secrecy to the nearing present surrounded by libraries worth of historical precedence and popular culture media relegating the first-known conventional engagement of the former Irken Empire.
"Anyone know what transpired after this moment?" Corr inquired of the cadets. Ord and the others kept their hands down, they knew the story, they knew what happened all too well, far beyond the war films that depicted the event as the defining battle of the Republic. Thankfully, one of the others raised his hand.
"Cadet Liro."
"The element of surprise from the initial surprise offensive by the newly-formed Coalition had been lost and the garrisoned Imperial troops and Armada vessels quickly responded to counter, Commander. The defenders' goal was to regain control from chaos, reevaluate their position, and smother the opposition into submission or defeat, whichever came first."
The elder Irken resisted a bemused huff as he looked to the young officer-to-be.
""Exact words of the text, Cadet. Not the answer I was looking for though." Corr continued, gesturing to the spread of visual aids across the front of the classroom.
Before them were historical maps, imagery, unit markers, movements, the timing of events…a real-time analysis of the Battle of Destructia per his lesson plans. "We have all, young and old, seen the holovids of the events that took place here. The sheer number of documentaries alone could see all of you as old as I before finishing them all…and those are only the officially sanctioned ones."
The professor paused, turning back to a confused Liro.
"The archived communications traffic I just played for you…what did it convey? Remember, this is not primary school. You are all here to become leaders of men in service to the Republic. Analyze it through that particular lens. All of you have had limited experience in field exercises to this point. Some have had the opportunity of cross-training with the Federation, even…as potential officer candidates, what did you hear and what happened next?"
Liro carefully considered Corr's words before speaking once more.
"...desperation, Commander. I heard desperation."
"Indeed. The importance of keeping a cool head is paramount. You allow yourself to rush into a decision without thinking it through, be it in combat or going after what you perceive to be a massive intelligence target, it could backfire drastically." Corr paused for a few moments, what happened with Volx was still something of a teachable moment even without the details. "What else, Cadet?"
"Despite the situation rapidly deteriorating, the chain-of-command remained calm and resolute to ensure their subordinates knew their orders and objectives were defined, Commander." Liro added, pleased with his response.
Another cadet's hand rose behind Liro.
Corr nodded to Liro, allowing him to take his seat, looking to the female cadet who raised her hand, "Cadet Tira, anything to add?"
Once addressed to stand at-ease, she took a deep breath in hesitation.
"Permission to speak freely, Commander?"
"Granted, Cadet. This is a classroom, not your duty post."
"Thank you, Commander." Tira acknowledged, pausing briefly to think her statement over. "Are we conveniently overlooking the Coalition's role in the deployment of biological and chemical weapons against the Empire at Destructia because of the preferred outcome whereas any other peer engagement would be considered egregious war crimes of unparalleled magnitude? There are regions of the planet to this day that are uninhabitable from the saturation of these elements."
"I was hoping that one of you would address it. What's your explanation as to why these agents were employed?"
"At the risk of a debate of ethics, Coalition forces felt justified to employ such tactics after the actions of the Empire leading up to that point during the lifespan of Operation Impending Doom II. Very few may have held those affected in high regard, but they were still living beings. Irken as you or I. At what point does it cease being warfare and become genocide, Commander?"
"What? Are we going to hold hands and talk about our feelings next, Tira?" One of her classmates heckled from the back, getting a few laughs that quickly straightened up seeing the lack of amusement etched in Corr's withered features.
"Genocide…you don't even have the faintest idea of what that even begins to mean." The man flatly spoke…remembering events in the war, the pivotal final battle…and what transpired on the very world they stood. "What would you have done in the face of such odds, Cadet?"
"Not deploying flesh-melting, spooch-rupturing agents in large swathes across a habitable world would be my first course of action, Sir."
"Desperation." Liro spoke up, appearing to have an epiphany of sorts. "All other options had been exhausted and fighting conventionally would have resulted in certain defeat from a numerically-superior, entrenched enemy."
Ord recalled what Saro said…that generations later people would be judging them for what they did that day. He knew all the intimate details everyone else didn't. He finally stood.
"It was beyond desperation, it was a tactical necessity to achieve the bigger strategic end goal. So some parts of the facility were rendered highly toxic, buildings and systems can be replaced. How is the Republic supposed to win a war without people willing to do what must be done?"
Corr stared at him, quiet for the moment; Ord truly was coming into his own, falling in more with the likes of himself and the others. Was Saro even rubbing off on him to an extent?
Ord continued, "All possible options were out the window or impossible. It was a last resort option to employ those weapons. I happen to agree with it. If I were in their position, I'd have called for it myself."
"And that simply makes it…okay?" Tira queried incredulously of her classmate.
"Context." Liro spoke.
"What?"
"Context, Tira." He reiterated, gesturing to the front of the class. "The Coalition literally had no other choice. Either commit fully or embrace the utter destruction of the rebellious elements against the Empire. None of us would be in this classroom today had they not done what they did. Does it make it acceptable? Not for us to decide. What is done is done. Should we use the same tactics? Again…context."
"That is disgusting and monstrous."
"So you would've just accepted defeat because you were unwilling to use chemical weapons?" Ord added on, "Just…retreat, let your SpecOps and your men on the ground get slaughtered, have Destructia fortified to no end, and lose any chance of defeating the Empire? I sure hope I never have someone like you in command over me if that's the case."
"Ord," Corr snapped, looking the young man in the eyes. "Don't you think you're being particularly harsh?"
"Not at all, Commander. Simply giving an honest opinion of what I would think as a SpecOps officer."
"There are more ways to achieve victory than simply just beating your face against it." Tira responded evenly despite the proverbial flak she was receiving.
"Everyone settle down. As you were." Corr intervened, a glance specifically to Ord to not push it further between what he and his friends knew compared to the others. "The intent and purpose of this lecture isn't to debate the ethics of employing unconventional tactics and weapons against the enemy…Cadet Ord?"
"Yes, Commander?"
"You believe that the deployment of chemical and biological agents by the Coalition was not only a valid strategy, but one critical to the success of the campaign?"
"Yes, Commander, I do."
The professor tossed his stylus to the Cadet, gesturing to the projector.
"Show me. Explain why."
Ord moved to the front of the room, sketching up the facility controlling the orbital defenses. He placed Vortian, Republican, Vylatian, Orenkian, and Imperial markings where needed. Just by the sheer volume of forces, it was apparent the position of the nascent Republican Army was precarious at best. Vylatians were engaging with other IIA forces and couldn't assist. Another Vortian unit, one he knew to be Bazmir team going after Carric, and the other he knew to be the SIS team working with Vult and the others were all tied up.
"As we can see…the Vylatians and one VDF SpecOps team is here. This SIS Field Operations team pinned down here. The main bug horde, as well as the Republic's forces, are here, all tied up and engaging Internal Affairs. Over here at the facility that controls the orbital defenses, we have just one Republic SpecOps team and one two man team from the VDF, facing down Internal Affairs backed by the freshly minted Troopers and Elites from that unit."
Ord paused to take a breath, "Even if these teams are the best the Republic and Federation had to offer, the odds are just too overwhelming. With what we just heard from them losing two of their own from a direct blast from a tank…there's no other option. The infantry needs to be eliminated, allowing them to take out the unsupported armor. Otherwise, without those orbital defenses targeting the Armada's forces up above, there's no chance of victory."
"Should victory be ascertained no matter the cost, Cadet?" Corr pressed.
"I remember there being a quote from the Vortians on the topic. 'In the face of extinction, all other alternatives are preferable.' Like Liro said, Commander, context. In the context of this situation on Destructia, certainly."
Corr moved to the other side of the lecture hall, opposite Ord as he studied the young man's assessment of events on the holo-projector.
"Because of this commitment and willingness to employ these tactics, what was the result of these actions strategically?"
"The Fourth Fleet was able to secure Destructia from any potential counterattack. With securing Destructia and then turning an Imperial war forge world against its former owners, it gave the nascent Republic the very tool they needed to fight the Empire on even footing, coupled with the shipyards and industry of Krata. It was absolutely necessary and a decision I agree with. Minimize our casualties, maximize enemy casualties, live to fight another day. Long way ahead on the road to Irk."
More and more turning into one of them in mindset as the story unfolded…Corr wasn't sure if Vult would be most displeased or most impressed with the unit's growing family starting down such a path. He simply nodded.
"The exact thinking of the commanders on the ground at the time…and I do hope the rest of you are taking away something similar from this. Allow me to be clear: I personally do not advocate the unjustified use of these weapons, but should circumstance and context call for it, so be it. Should any of you find yourselves the commander of forces in wartime, you will lose every fair fight. Land, water, skies, space…fighting fair will see to your demise. What is the ultimate goal of any successful army engaged in combat?"
"The ultimate goal of any army engaged in combat is to ascertain victory, Commander." Siph was quick to answer.
"Victory…victory is the key. Never forget that. Generations of soldiers before you have not, near and distant. Do not be the first to forget."
Like Vaukt and Kazak have said: the only unfair fight is the one you lose. Such words ran through time without needing to be said. Was the Republic falling into complacency so early? Did the hard men overdo it and create weak men almost immediately after them? Thoughts were interrupted with the sound of the evening mess call over the intercom.
"Well, that's enough of that for today, cadets. Dismissed." Corr allowed the class to leave, save for the usual suspects.
"So I guess the story explains a few things." Ord opened, approaching Corr's desk.
"What sort of things?"
"Why you're a fair bit older than my parents and the others, what happened back at Orenis. Does it make you worry?"
Corr shook his head, "I have a loving woman, a fine family, my own as well as the extended family like you…even if I'm one of the first to go because of what happened, I can honestly say I haven't missed out on a good life."
"Half expected you to say something like that," Ord cracked a smile.
"So, where were we with the details? We won't have much time like this left with graduation coming. Two of you going off to the Honor Guard and one of you off to selection for SpecOps."
Yerd and Siph stood by Ord before Corr, joining the covert conversation with the rest of the classmates taking their leave moments prior.
"We…hypothesized that your team and your allies had something to do with kicking off the invasion of Destructia." Siph began. "Hard not to jump to conclusions now after hearing about all the stuff we didn't know before."
"Right? Almost every pivotal moment had something to do with you or your squadmates, Sir. The Republic is quite literally built off of your backs, all things considered." Yerd added, shaking his head in disbelief. "...so Destructia…that's when the resistance went hot? Full-blown war? Unless something else happened on that planet the vids and books don't talk about, of course."
"It was the start. The Fourth Fleet was able to run off the rather light reinforcements sent in by the Empire. We had an IIA Marshal in our custody. We also had access to cloning equipment of our own. An army of our own freshly forged in the same way we and all the others were in the Devastis cloning facilities. We now had the means to give as good as we got."
"And Orenk?" Ord asked, "I know they're encircled early on."
"We were able to go relieve them, yes."
"What about The Massive? Surely they'd try to blow the planet up to deny it to their enemies if they couldn't keep it…right?" Siph queried, mildly confused. "History texts say hostilities didn't end on Destructia for several months with all the holdouts in hardened bunkers. Surely that's plenty of time to mount a counteroffensive."
"You've seen Grimm as the type to throw bodies at a problem to save his pride. You saw it on Vort, Vylat, Jakri, and Destructia was no different. To him, destroying the world admits defeat, that he couldn't take it back. He glassed Blorch, yes, but glassing Destructia would make his already tenuous position even more precarious."
"Wait, wait, wait, what about Xilch?" The young man continued, perplexed at the logic. "As the Empire's acting commander of forces, surely she would've had a say in doing something about Destructia. Orders are orders, sure, but effectively conceding a total loss of that magnitude isn't…well, wasn't, the Empire's style. Surely there had to be some other ulterior reason."
"Xilch did try the sabotage route. In fact that's the part that the books don't mention."
"Mention what?"
"How we could only make battalion sized batches of clones for the better part of a couple of years thanks to the level of sabotage they carried out."
"That bad?"
"That bad. Could we clone? Sure, once the saboteurs were rooted out and we were able to fully repair everything, we could really crank out the clones. Her saboteurs had a choice, sabotage local industry or the cloning facility. They couldn't do both. They chose the one that would hurt us more. We were stuck relying on the Federation and Orenkians who could break the blockade before our numbers came back up. Xilch was just as good at asymmetric warfare as we were, she was always trained to guard against it. As Warmaster, she could turn those very same ideas against us on the offensive."
"Suppose that makes sense if you think about it…Grimm couldn't do anything overtly public about Destructia without acknowledging the growing threat or the fact the Empire had been embarrassed wholesale and Xilch knew how to keep him appeased while trying to crush all opposition at the same time…kinda scary, really." He admitted aloud.
"It is. He'll learn about it when he goes off to SpecOps training." Corr gestured towards Ord, "Grimm was very much a sledgehammer type of man. Xilch far preferred the use of the scalpel and the dagger, and was an expert at both. Why she and Vaukt are the top studies when it comes to clandestine operations, special operations in warfare, small unit tactics, those sorts of topics. Well, and what of our special unit is available under some creative pseudonyms finds our way into the training, namely because of some of the training cadre…but I won't be telling you who. That's going to be a surprise."
"Question begs to be answered though: Where were you and the others when all of this took place? You found the other Irken on Orenis and were on your way back to known space with their fleet. What about that prisoner you all took? What happened to her?"
"Skrem jammed her PAK signal. Interim measure on a portable jammer. When we finally came back it was up to Amka and Krad on what to do with her."
"And?"
"Krad figured shoot her, he was bitter about losing his left arm, I can't blame him too much. Amka…tough as he is, he worked with her several times during the Campaign on Vort. Plus losing members of his own team, he needed at least one replacement. Had her make a promise though; she so much as even tried to make contact with Tuu or disobeyed him over the most miniscule of things, he'd shoot her himself."
"I suppose she didn't?"
"She didn't; whether she was genuinely part of the team or just doing it to save her own hide is difficult to say. She was always one of Mirage's, but Amka and his teams bled and died with us when they came over. Made them part of our own family as far as I'm concerned."
"Surprised the offer was even made, all things considered." Siph reasoned. "To go from actively hunting you down to helping you, that is."
"Sounded like beggars couldn't be choosers to me." Yerd added in observation. "Personal grievances aside, hard to turn down highly-trained help like that."
"Especially losing Xora and Zop in one go. Sure she wasn't demolitions or heavy weapons by training, but another techie. Another one who could help Vard, Jur, Skrem, and Phla was quite a welcome addition. Though, once she spent some time with Rha, she got the hang of how to make things explode."
Corr paused to drink some water before continuing, "As for Destructia? Yes there were holdouts on the planet that held out for months. The bunkers…well let's just say Orenkians with flamethrowers tend to be rather thorough. Those scenes in the movies of letting IIA Enforcers burn alive after they filled a bunker with fire? More common than you think. Sometimes the Federation's ships would fire their secondaries if collateral damage wasn't a problem and knock out entire bunkers. The Haven Legion led the clean sweep of the planet alongside the Orenkians, eventually declared the planet cleared of any Imperial military units, really uneventful, typical occupation actions you read about in textbooks."
"Textbooks you and your allies helped write through your actions back then." Yerd commented with respect. "The archives here are extensive with volumes of literature and thousands of hours of footage of events that took place during the Great Uprising…but that's only what has been declassified. There's more to it still…isn't there?"
"Yes…you know the saying that history doesn't always repeat but always rhymes? I think you'll find as our story goes on we have much more in common with what happened to both us and the resistance at Devos back in the days of the First Republic."