"MEDIC! THE GENERALS BEEN INJURED!" cried a trooper from behind him.
The medic came quickly and took over. He placed a facemask over Master Rhans mouth and nose, telling her to breathe deeply. A moment later, her eye rolled back, and her tense, shaking muscles relaxed.
A squad of troopers had rushed forward from their position, led by Captain Fisk and surrounded where Master Rhan had fallen. As the medic worked on Master Rhan the troopers had done an excellent job at fending off any droids that came near.
"Commander, what are your orders!" yelled Captain Fisk over the firefight around them.
Keltor looked at Fisk, "Orders?"
"Sir, you're in command, what are your orders?" A few other clones looked at him, a feeling of both apprehension and doubt rolled off them like a tidal wave, it was obvious that they didn't put much stock in his ability to command.
"Right, um, give me a status report," said Keltor hurriedly. Fisk spoke quickly and concisely, detailing their rather grim situation. "Get the wounded and civilians out of the city through the pass in the mountains" said Keltor.
He grabbed his lightsaber from Master Rhans hand and said to her, "May the force be with you, master," then the medics picked her up and ran. Keltor ignited his lightsaber, the gentle thrum giving him some comfort. "We hold them here for as long as we can, Captain. Then we fall back."
"Sir, yes sir!" replied Fisk, "You heard him boys! Fight like hell itself has come to claim you!"
There was a chorus of "Hoo ahh!" from the clones. Keltor stood at the front, deflecting bolt after bolt, sending them ricocheting back into the sea of droids. Even using the force to enhance his stamina, he knew it was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed him.
"Captain, I think it's time we withdraw," said Keltor.
"Not yet sir! There's still civilians moving to the mountain passage, if we pull back now they'll be slaughtered!" replied Fisk as he blasted several droids.
"Kriff," muttered Keltor. He narrowly dodged a blaster bolt, and managed to reflect two more. He felt a stab of pain as a fourth managed to brush his side.
"Commander!" yelled a trooper in concern.
"I'm fine!" yelled Keltor. "It's just a flesh wound!" The trooper nodded, and continued firing. A few moments later there was the sound of metal grinding on metal.
One of the troopers looked in the direction of the noise, a hint of fear in his voice, "This is bad! Get the PLX!"
A second later a tank unlike anything Keltor had ever seen drifted around a corner, it had a singular track in the middle with two large eyestalks on either side along with four blaster cannons, two on each side.
"What the kriff is that?" asked Keltor as the tank roared and charged.
"OUT OF THE WAY OUT OF THE WAY!" yelled Fisk.
The separatist tank, either not realizing them, or just not caring, rolled right through the line of battle droids at a breakneck speed. The tank fired its cannons twice, explosions knocked troopers to the ground, one unfortunate man was hit by a blast dead on and was blown in half.
Keltor jumped to the side along with a handful of clones and managed to avoid the tanks reckless charge. Around a dozen men were not so lucky, and Keltor heard the sickening screams as they were run over by the tank. All that was left behind was a red paste with bits of broken armor.
The tank itself had apparently lost control when something got wedged in the left track and careened into a building causing it to collapse onto the tank. After a moment there was a grinding noise as the tank tried to back out, but it was firmly wedged in place.
Keltor realized in horror what caused it to lose control when the body of a clone was ejected from the left track, his body mangled beyond recognition. "Oh force" whispered Keltor as he tried not to vomit.
"TAKE IT DOWN!" yelled Fisk, a Trooper with a PLX launcher aimed at the tank and fired a rocket at it. A moment later the tank blew up.
"What was that thing?" asked Keltor shakily.
"The NR-N99 Persuader," answered Fisk grimly. "We call it a Ram droid."
Keltor shuttered as he looked at the carnage the tank had done, "I can see why."
"I need a headcount!" called Fisk. Troopers called out their names or numbers, Keltor counted fifteen men alive and responsive. "Right, we have some time, that Ram droid did a number on the droids as well as us, see if you can't get some of these barricades back up!"
"Captain, st-" Keltor held back a retch as his foot slid in a pool of viscera, "status report."
"Third Company is almost finished with setting up secondary defenses, Second Company reported Ram droids as well but they were able to deal with them without too many issues. Fourth Company has successfully made contact with troopers behind enemy lines, Captain Thymer intends to strike their headquarters," replied Fisk.
"How long until reinforcements arrive?" asked Keltor.
"Two hours," replied Fisk.
Two hours, they just needed to hold out for another two hours.
The clones surrounding him looked at him. He could feel their curiosity through the force, and just a touch of doubt that they'd survive. He should say something, give them some hope. "Very good Captain," He stepped to the partially rebuilt barricade and said, "I'd like to address the battalion."
"Yes sir, right away sir," one of the troopers brought out a comm disk, after pressing a couple of buttons he handed it to Keltor.
Keltor cleared his throat, "Listen up everyone. It's been a long couple of days. It's been a hard couple of days. We've been severely outnumbered and outgunned the entire time. We thought that the droids had run out of strength a while ago, but apparently they've been hiding a few things from us."
A trooper nearby chuckled, "I have some good news, and some bad news. Many of you have probably heard the rumors that General Rhan was injured earlier and that she's no longer on the battlefield. It's true. I've taken temporary command of the battalion."
He felt a ripple of concern from the troopers at his statement, hopefully because of Master Rhan being injured, not from him taking command. "As your commanding officer I just have one order to give you all. Fight like hell for two hours. Give no inch, give no quarter. By the time reinforcements get here they better find a battlefield of scrapped clankers. The company that does the least pays for drinks when we get back home."
Two clones looked at each other, "I bet two days pay it's third company," "I'll take that bet." replied another.
"You know your mission, you know your tasks. Let's get to work gentlemen. Commander Keltor, out." As he handed back the comm disk to the trooper he heard a faint "Hoo ahh!" from the clones.
"Inspiring speech sir," said Captain Fisk.
"Thank you Captain, let's hope it worked," said Keltor.
From down the street they heard the clanking of battle droids. They'd regrouped and restarted the attack. Captain Fisk hefted a blaster rifle and called out, "Alright boys, we all know we can't afford that bar tab. So for the sake of our wallets, don't leave a single droid standing."
Captain Thymer looked through the microbinoculars at the droid command center. It was a prefabricated structure with multiple buildings and a wall surrounding the complex. In the middle was a makeshift command and communications hub. Standing in the middle of the hub he spotted his target, the tactical droid. Two other men, Driver and Match were next to him, "What's the plan Cap?"
"We're taking out that command center." If they could destroy the command center they might just be able to stall the droids long enough for reinforcements to arrive.
Thymer, Driver, and match pulled back from their vantage point, and returned to the others he'd managed to find. He'd taken a squad and snuck through the enemies lines to try and hit the command center, on the way he ran into a couple of squads that were cut off from the rest of the battalion. They had to move slower, but the added manpower was definitely worth the trouble.
"Which one of you is the best shot?" asked the clones.
One man stepped up, "I am sir."
"What's your name?" asked Thymer.
"Potshot sir," answered the clone, "First company, second squad, sir."
"Alright Potshot, I've got a job for you," Thymer then pointed to another man, "You, come with us."
The clone followed him and Potshot to the vantage point, "When I give the word, shoot that tactical droid. Understand."
Potshot nodded, "Yes, sir." As he got into position Thymer told the other trooper, "keep him safe."
He returned to the others and they set off towards the command post. The route they took was through the dense forest, which hopefully meant they wouldn't be noticed. On the outskirts of the command post Thymer ordered the men to halt, then to take up positions. The squads fanned out along the perimeter, moving quietly in the trees.
Thymer saw one of the droids on patrol look into the forest, had they been spotted?
The droid walked over to the treeline, its barrel pointed into the trees. It didn't immediately shoot which made him hope that it only thought it saw something and was moving to investigate. "Someone take that droid out quietly," ordered Thymer over comms.
A moment later the droid was pulled into the treeline and its head ripped off. Thymer watched the patrol move on, not noticing they'd lost a member. Once they rounded the corner he gave the order to move in.
The clones moved up and flattened themselves against the wall. Thymer raised his wrist com and said, "Alright Potshot, take out that tactical droid."
"With pleasure," replied Potshot. A moment later there was a wizz as a blue bolt nailed the tactical droid in the head. Quickly followed up by another to the chest for good measure.
"MOVE MOVE MOVE!" yelled Thymer and boosted another clone up to the wall, he quickly clambered up and fired down on the droids inside the compound. Thymer was then boosted up by another clone, and he was happy to see the utter carnage his boys had wrought.
By the time they'd pulled the rest of the men up the wall the droids had been scrapped. The "Fine work boys, damn fine work!" yelled Thymer in glee. Astro, Mik, Eli, set those charges, Misha, get me that tactical droid's head. Everyone else, grab anything that looks important."
"Sir, yes sir!" yelled the troopers. They probably only had a few moments until the droids realized that their command center wasn't responding and would send a squad to investigate.
It only took a couple of minutes for his men to carry out their tasks, and then as quickly as they arrived they left. No longer needing to remain hidden, they booked it across the field and towards Potshot's position.
When they arrived Thymer slapped Potshot on the back, "Fine shooting. Here's a trophy." He handed the trooper the tactical droid's head with a large hole dead center.
"Thank you sir!" replied Potshot as he held the head.
"Astro, if you'd be so kind," said Thymer.
Astro pulled out the detonator and pressed the big red button on top, a second later the droid's command center was nothing more than burning twisted metal. A large fire raged where it was. Thymer took a deep breath, and said, "I love the smell of slagged droids in the morning."
"The enemy command center has been destroyed, I repeat the enemy command center has been destroyed."
The call came in several minutes after the next assault started. Keltor deflected several bolts in quick succession, then sliced a droid in half when it was close enough. At the news there was a cheer from the clones behind him.
"Finally, some good news," said Fisk. "I'm not sure we can hold this position any longer sir! We should withdraw!"
"Agreed," said Keltor as he deflected three shots then bisected a super battle droid. "I'll provide cover while you escape.
"Sir?" asked Fisk.
"You heard me! Get going! I'm right behind you!" he had to yell over the sounds of battle.
"Sir, yes sir!" he spoke into his communicator "First company, withdraw to the secondary lines! On the double!" Without a moment's hesitation, the clones stood and ran down the street. Keltor did what he could to deflect as many blaster bolts as he could, but a few got past him and he heard a couple of clones get hit.
He prepared himself to dash away, channeling the force into his legs, then he turned and dashed, the world blurred for a moment then returned to normal. He still wasn't able to force dash for very long, only a few dozen meters at most, but it was enough to get him clear of the droids. He rounded a corner, sprinting as fast as he could towards the line of clones waiting at the end of the long avenue.
Then he heard a grunt behind him causing him to stop. Leaning up against a building was a clone clutching his leg, he must have gotten shot while fleeing and in their haste nobody noticed he'd fallen behind.
He rushed back over to the clone and reached out an arm to him, "Come on soldier, let's get moving!"
The clone looked up at him, gratefully grabbed his arm, and Keltor pulled him to his feet, using his body to support the man they moved as quickly as they could to the other clones.
He heard the droid's thunderous march get closer and closer, but he ignored it. "We aren't going to make it, leave me sir, I'm only slowing you down," said the clone.
"Not happening," puffed Keltor.
"Sir, you're far more important than I am, leave me," begged the clone.
Keltor stumbled as his foot slipped on some rubble, but he managed to regain his balance, "Will you shut up?" replied Keltor, shifting the man's weight to get a better grip. "Now come on, we've got about a hundred more meters."
Ahead of him a couple of troopers had rushed out from behind cover, one had his rifle raised at the street while the other took the other arm of the wounded trooper. While this sped up their pace, they were still slower than the advancing droids, and before they got to the line of defenses Keltor heard the telltale whizzing of blaster bolts. The clone escorting them returned fire, his rifle spitting out round after round.
When he reached the line a medic rushed forward and took the injured clone, "We've got it from here commander."
The clone escorting them turned and ran, vaulting over the barricade just before a hail of blaster bolts impacted the sandbags. "That was a close one!" he joked.
"SLAG EM!" yelled Fisk, and the rest of the clones opened fire. The B1's were easy to deal with, a well placed shot to the head or body brought it down. The B2's were much more troublesome to deal with. Their armor was thick enough to absorb several shots before being taken down. But the clones had managed to thin the droids' advance quite substantially before they got close enough for Keltor to start cutting them apart.
At some point the firefight had devolved into a full blown melee, clones used their rifles as clubs to beat droids to death, some used combat knives to pierce weak points, others relied on brute strength knock them down and finish them at point blank range with a rifle or carbine. Keltor swore he saw one clone with an entrenching shovel nearly cut a B1 in half! At some point Captain Fisk had lost his rifle and was relying on a pistol and knife, he made short work of any droid that dared get close, and soon he was surrounded by decapitated B1's and sparking B2's.
But the droids gave as good as they got, the heavier B2s shrugged off any blow and simply shot the offending trooper. The B1's, while less durable, were no less deadly as they mercilessly gunned down any trooper they had a clear shot at.
Keltor was doing his best to keep up with the frenzy, slicing any droid he could get his blade on or deflecting near point blank blaster bolts right back into the droid that fired them. He felt an odd buzzing sensation in the back of his skull as he fought, his vision sharpened, the world seemed to slow.
A sense of pure joy overwhelmed him.
The joy of battle.
He reveled in how a droid would spark as his lightsaber cut through it, how it crumpled when he used the force to push it into another, and he felt supreme satisfaction when he managed to deflect a blaster bolt so precisely it knocked the blaster out of the B1's hand. He stabbed the B1, the voice box playing one last garbled "uh oh" as it spasmed and shut down.
He looked for another opponent, another droid to dismantle, another kill to his name. To his surprise none were left. "Are you alright commander?" asked Captain Fisk.
Keltor turned sharply to the clone, his eyes wild with delight, a grin plastered on his face showing off his sharp teeth. Keltor forced his quick ragged breathing to slow down as he realized what he probably looked like.
He took a breath and calmed himself, he felt the quills on his head smooth flat, not realizing they'd fanned out. Once he regained his composure he replied, "I'm fine Captain. Just, got caught up in the moment is all."
This was the second time he'd felt like this. The last time was when they stormed a trench line on Christophsis, he briefly wondered if this was just a reaction he had to battle or if it was something about his species, but he put that thought aside, he could wonder about that later.
"Give me a status report Captain," ordered Keltor.
Captain Fisk sheathed his knife, and after a moment said, "None of the droids managed to break through, we held the line. In fact, none of the other companies are reporting any more droids. Captain Thymer re-entered the city a few moments ago but hasn't come across any enemies."
Was that it then? Did they win?
"Sweep the city, I want to make sure we haven't missed a single droid," said Keltor.
"Sir, yes sir!" replied Fisk
The sweep of the city turned up nothing, not a single droid remained, Keltor sat down on a pile of rubble, a feeling of exhaustion settling on him like a ton of bricks. They'd done it.
A clone approached him, saluted, and said "Commander, a flight of gunships and fighters have entered the sector, they should arrive in approximately ten minutes."
"Thank you, sorry, what is your name?" asked Keltor as he shakily got to his feet.
"Erm, Braze sir," replied the trooper.
"Thank you Braze, dismissed," Keltor gave the clone a salute and the clone hurried off to accomplish whatever task he'd been given. All around him clones were clearing rubble, examining droids, or gathering their fallen brothers. He'd lost a lot of men. He'd need to ask Fisk for a headcount. He hoped that the number was only a couple hundred. Looking around though, he noticed that there were more survivors than from the battle of Christophsis. Hopefully that was a good sign. He didn't know if he could handle losing most of the battalion again.
Before long he heard the roar of engines and looked up to see a dozen gunships approaching the city. A squadron of V-19's were in front, ready to engage any enemies at a moments notice. The gunships came to stop, hovering overhead before slowly descending onto any clear spot large enough for them to land.
One landed nearby, its blast doors opened and men with blue markings rushed out, along with Ahsoka and Anakin Skywalker. Keltor moved to meet them halfway, and bowed to Anakin, "It's a pleasure for you to join us Master Skywalker. I wasn't expecting they'd send you as reinforcements." He didn't bow out of any respect for Anakin, purely because he was a Jedi Knight and Keltor was just a padawan.
Anakin seemed to size him up before looking around and asking, "Where's Bola?"
Keltor froze, he'd forgotten about his master. How could he have forgotten about his master!? "She's most likely in the spire. But s-"
Anakin cut him off, "Fine, Snips stay here, Rex get the men to help clean up this mess."
"Sir!" replied Captain Rex. He turned to Keltor, seemingly waiting for orders.
"Right, um, we need to get a perimeter set up just in case the separatists come back, I believe Fixx is doing that right now, he should be somewhere around here." Keltor turned to look but couldn't even find his own Captains.
Captain Rex nodded, "I'm sure I can find him, we'll get to work right away." He turned and then started issuing orders to his own men, then quickly walked off, skirting around piles of droids.
"Well, you guys sure made a hell of a mess here," commented Ahsoka. "We saw the battle damage from overhead, and wow, it's extensive."
Keltor shot her a glare, "Pretty sure you and Skywalker would have made more of a mess than we did."
Ahsoka grinned wryly, "You've got a point. Sorry it took us so long to get here, we had to pick up another venator."
"What happened to the old one? Wait, weren't you two commanding a fleet of them?" asked Keltor.
Ahsoka shrugged, "Well, one blew up, we crashed a second one into a Lucrehulk, and the third, well, that may or may not be in drydock getting a new hull."
Keltor couldn't believe it, "Just, try not to make it a habit."
"No promises," chuckled Ahsoka.
"Commander," both he and Ahsoka turned to look at the clone. "Erm, Commanders, we've finished our headcount."
"And?" asked Keltor, ready for the gutpunch.
"435 survivors," said the clone. "That's including the wounded, though we only have around 200 actually capable of fighting."
"Thats," started Ahsoka.
"Thank the force," muttered Keltor.
"Sir?" asked the clone.
"I was worried we lost more," Keltor sat down on a pile of rubble relief flooding through him. "Thank you trooper. Go get yourself a hot meal."
The trooper took a second to reply before saying, "Sir, yes sir!" and half ran to find the cooking station. Keltor took a shaky breath, it was nothing short of a miracle. Only just under 200 dead. "Keltor?"
He was roused from his thoughts by Ahsoka, looking up he saw her look of concern and confusion. "Sorry, I was just overjoyed that so few had died." It was a bittersweet joy though. But he'd take what little joy he could find here.
"Right. So, um," Ahsoka started to speak but was interrupted by Captain Fisk approaching.
"Commander, we completed our sweep of the area, so far we haven't found any more droids. These must have been the last." He gestured to a pile of battle droids with his helmet, "What are your orders sir?"
"Right, see if you can't sweep the battlefield, help gather the dead," said Keltor.
Fisk nodded, "Yes sir, I'll get right on that."
As he left Keltor pulled out his communicator, "Stew, get the mess tent set up and whip up something special for the men."
"Sir!" came a reply from the other end.
Next Keltor called Captain Thymer, "Captain, get a patrol set up, I don't want any droids sneaking up on us any time soon."
"Right away commander," replied Thymer.
Next was Terror, "Captain Terror." There wasn't a response, after a moment he tried again "Captain Terror?"
"Apologies sir, Captain Terror is unavailable at the moment. He's being treated by Splinter, we'll update you on any changes in his condition."
That put a dampener on Keltors good mood, he hoped Terrors injuries weren't too severe. "Very well, thank you."
"Whoever is in charge of Second company, I need you to report to me. And anyone who can speak Ryl," he pocketed his communicator.
"What's that all about?" asked Ahsoka.
"I'm just doing my job as commander," shrugged Keltor. "Since my Master is not able to, I've taken temporary command."
Ahsoka scrunched her face in confusion, "Wait, what happened to your master?"
"It's complicated. Honestly I'm still trying to process what happened," sighed Keltor. "Did you know Master Ten S'hol?"
Ahsoka paused for a moment before nodding, "Yeah, I knew him. Did something happen to him?"
"He had fallen to the dark side. Master Rhan dueled him, but got injured during the duel," said Keltor slowly.
Ahsoka held her hands up to her mouth in shock, "Force, how bad?"
Keltor looked down at the ground, "She lost her arm. I, I tried to help but, I, I wasn't skilled enough, I wasn't strong enough." He was a terrible padawan. He let down Master Rhan.
Ahsoka put a hand on his shoulder, "Look, you did all you could. But it's not your fault she got hurt."
"But I still wasn't strong enough to help her," said Keltor bitterly. He vowed he'd become a better swordsman, he vowed that he'd become strong enough that if something like this would happen he wouldn't be cowering behind Master Rhan.
Ahsoka was about to say something again when two clones approached him, "Sergeant Dex reporting as ordered sir!" "Private Lucky reporting as ordered sir!"
Keltor quickly put on a mask of calm and turned to the two, "Excellent. Sergeant, I assume you're currently in command of second company?" Dex nodded, "Good, take the second and start clearing these streets, send a squad to retrieve the civilians, they would probably rather live in their city rather than in the forest."
Dex nodded and rushed off and Keltor turned to the other man, "I assume you're my new translator then."
Lucky nodded, "Sir yes sir."
"See if you can't get a feel for what the Twi'leks need. We'll help them however we can but we can only spare so much manpower and supplies. Also see if you can get any volunteers for guard duty. Even if it's only one person, we can use all the help we can get." Lucky saluted once Keltor finished giving him his orders and rushed off.
Keltor then had an idea, he pulled out his com link and said "Captain Fixx, send some crews out to the battlefield, see if we can't reclaim any of the tanks or heavy equipment."
"On it Commander," replied Fixx. Even if it was only a single tank, it was more than what they currently had. He spotted a pilot arguing with one of his medics, a clone on a stretcher next to it.
He quickly walked over to the pair and heard, "I'm sorry, I can't take him. I have orders to report back to Alpha base within the next hour where I'm going to pick up troopers."
"The least you could do is take our wounded with you, some of these men will die without a medical facility, and in case you hadn't noticed we don't have one!" The medic gestured to the crumbling city around him.
"What's this about?" asked Keltor.
"Commander," the Medic turned and pointed an accusatory finger at the pilot, "This pilot is refusing to take our wounded. I've tried explaining to hi-"
Keltor held up a hand to silence the medic and turned to the pilot, "Why can't you take any of the wounded?"
The pilot said "I have orders to immediately report to Alpha base and resume normal activities."
"Do you know if Alpha base has any medical facilities?" asked Keltor.
"As I was telling your medic," the pilot glared at the medic, "Alpha base is nothing more than a depot, there are no medical facilities there."
"I understand," the medic seemed to deflate at Keltors words.
"But commander! These men are going to die!" argued the Medic.
Again Keltor held up a hand to silence him, "However, I need these men taken to a medical facility as soon as possible. Surely the offensive can do without a single gunship ferrying supplies for the next couple hours."
The pilot shook his head, "Sir, I have my orders."
"And you'll carry them out. Just, not this moment," Keltor pressed the pilot, "It'll just be for a few hours. If anyone has a problem with it, you can tell them I demanded you take these men."
"But, I have my orders sir, I'm sorry." said the pilot, although Keltor could tell he was starting to give in, "I can see about rerouting some gunships to pick them up."
He didn't want to have to do this, but he was given no other options, "Very well, could you tell me who issued these orders?"
The pilot nodded, "Captain Mire of the 809th logistics division."
Oh he had him now. "Captain? So A captain in the logistics division suddenly outranks a Battalion Commander?"
The pilot floundered, "Well, no, but-"
"Then there shouldn't be any issues if I override Captain Mires orders then. I do outrank him after all," said Keltor.
The pilot gulped, "I suppose, if you put it that way sir, I have no choice."
"Excellent," said Keltor, a smile tugging at his lips, "Stitch, you can begin loading the injured, start from most critical and work your way down."
Stitch nodded, "Yes sir, thank you sir!"
Behind him Ahsoka chortled, "That was a dirty tactic you used."
"If it means my men will live, I don't mind stooping to such levels," sighed Keltor.
"Hey! Where's my gunship going?!" Keltor looked towards Anakin who had fast walked across the cracked and ruined pavement.
"Ooooh," said Keltor, "He didn't mention it was your gunship." Anakin glowered at Keltor, his hands on his hips. "Sorry. He'll be back. Probably."
Ahsoka was doubled over behind Keltor trying desperately not to laugh.