The Imperial: Tales from N'Zoth II
Set during Chapters 10 and 11
CT-8812 "Talik"
"Where are those blasted droidekas?!" CT-1142, or Database, demanded from somewhere behind me. Before I could answer, I dipped my head down behind the barricade as a blaster bolt - a blaster cannon bolt - hurtled by. My eyes glanced at the clock hovering in the corner of my display, before cursing under my breath.
"Ten minutes out."
"Damn it… All!" TK-8770 - Skip, the youngest of our brothers present - barked, blind firing his carbine around the barricade across the hallway before dropping back behind it, "How much longer?!"
"Ten! It's been twenty, so ten!"
"Whose brilliant idea was that?!" Database demanded, "Why didn't we just send them first, follow the path of destruction?"
"Stow it!" I ordered, before reopening a channel with CT-0900, "Bite?"
"Moving!"
I couldn't hazard a glance back to see how the last Clone or Navy Commandos were doing, but that Bite could reposition at least bode better for them than our situation did for us. We were assaulting another checkpoint on the way to the administration offices - one hastily garrisoned by a decreasing quality of Yevethans. What they lacked in training and armaments, they more than made up for in volume of fire and fanaticism. It didn't help that we were flanked from another hallway by another group of Yevs - which the Navy Commandos were tied down dealing with.
I glanced across the hallway again, passed Skip, to the sextet of towering KX-series security droids. All of them idled just around the corner, outside of combat. The urge to throw them at the Yevs like an automated wrecking ball was strong, but I held off. They would be needed to deal with whatever defenses were at the admin offices - either on our way in, or back out. Wasting them here and now for the purpose of expediency was tempting, though.
"Out of the way!" Bite's gruff voice dragged me back to the present, and forced me to scooch aside and allow our self-proclaimed "heavy weapons specialist" through. Held in his grip was the familiar bulk of a rotary cannon, a rare find in the Imperial military in this day-and-age. It appeared almost identical to the Clone Wars variant used by the older generation, but mercy be upon anyone that tried to call it a "Z-6" in earshot of bite. It was a fast way to get Bite started on a rant about "Merr-Sonn" and "BlasTech", and the specifics of "how a proper rotary was made".
So long as it could lay down a lot of blaster bolts, I didn't much care about the specifics.
The barrels whined to life as Bite took the corner, a shield snapping into place at the front of the weapon. Not a second too soon, as blaster bolts impacted the shield and dissipated on its surface with a hiss. The Yevs were given all of a second to realize what they were staring at before they were drowned in a hail of crimson blaster bolts.
Over the barricade, I watched their cannon operator disappear - either hit or forced into cover - and took my chance. Skip, Database, and I raced past our barricades and charged the Yev line, carbines suppressing those foolish enough not to duck under Bite's hail of bolts.
Bite laid off the trigger just as we reached the barricade line. A Yev rose, only for its eyes to widen comically as I crammed the barrel of my carbine into its face. A flash of red saw it crumple to the ground, followed shortly by its fellows as three stormtroopers fired indiscriminately into the cowering aliens.
A few tried to run, dispatched by Database. In my peripheral vision, I saw a Yevethan grab Skip's blaster and push it wide, trying to cram its own pistol under his chin. I made to turn and drop the enterprising Yev, but I needn't worry. Skip reeled his helmet back and slammed forward into the head of the Yevethan. I couldn't tell if the blow broke anything, but it was enough to disorientate the Yev. Skip ripped his blaster back and shot it twice for the trouble, muttering something as he stepped back.
Bite jogged over, step heavy under the weight of the rotary cannon. He looked over the Yev barricade at the carnage below, appearing almost disappointed he hadn't killed as many.
"Always more, big guy." Skip said, banging a fist on the older Clone's shoulder pauldron. Bite made an obscene gesture and slapped his hand away. I turned away from the trio and pinged the Navy Commandos.
"Clear. Regrouping." The gruff, no-nonsense tone of the human responded. A few moments later, the team turned the corner - carbines raised warily as they scanned every wall for ambush. They had been a dozen strong to our four, reduced to ten now. Still, though I loathed to admit it, the NavCommandos had been pulling their weight. They were all carabineers, with the notable exception of a larger Commando lugging around the familiar mass of a T-21.
"Droid!" I barked, nodding to the Commando before facing forward. I didn't need to see the group of security droids lumbered around the corner.
"We're making good time, all things considered," Database noted as he clambered over the short wall, kicking a few dead Yevs out of his way as he went. He took Bite's rotary cannon so the other Clone could follow suit.
"Five more intersections forward, two left, and then another two with a long hallway," The Commando officer grumbled as he approached, expressionless helmet studying the bodies before turning to me.
"Yeah, good time," Database reiterated, before wincing as one of the Yevethans groaned under his foot. The bark of his blaster followed shortly after.
"We good?" I asked the other officer, to which he nodded.
"Condition green."
"Defenses are getting heavier," I said, vaulting over the barrier after my men. The droids merely stepped over, heads tilting as they studied the bodies below them. To another, it might have appeared cute - like the droids were curious animals. In reality, they were scanning for survivors - the presence of which would be a mistake they would rectify. Fortunately for the Yevs, they were already dead.
"Our group was bigger," It was difficult to tell from the complete lack of emotion in the Commando's voice, but that was him gloating. I scoffed, but did not dignify his jab with any more of a response - we would see who was carrying whose weight soon enough.
We set off at a jog again, mindful of our heavy weapon troopers lagging behind the group. Signs of battle littered the walls and hallways, but far less than I was expecting. Casting my mind back, I could remember Graab's explanation of the station's crew complement. In a station of this size, in Imperial space, this would not be so easily an operation. Sheer weight of numbers would slow us down, now it seemed the Yevs were just throwing what bodies they could. Either we were getting supremely unlucky and wandering into patrols, or they were getting scared.
When we reached the left intersection, I was a few paces behind Database and a Navy Commando. Database stopped dead and then all but threw himself backwards, bowling me over and sending us both sprawling across the durasteel floor. The reason became clear as a spray of blaster fire dropped the Commando mid-step, his body crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.
I pushed the other Clone off of me and pressed up against the wall, watching crimson bolts hurtle by. Database slid up next to me, adjusting his blaster while swearing vehemently under his breath.
"Walker, an AT-PT!" He barked as everyone else gathered around us.
"Where'd they find an PT on a space station?!" Skip asked, yelling over the blaster fire rather than using the personal comms. I frowned under my helmet before tapping its side, signalling to the younger Clone. The roar of blaster fire quieted, leaving two of the Navy Commandos watching the corner and the corpse of their fallen comrade.
"Cargo loader, it's got arms. Looks like they just strapped the blaster cannon back on." Database explained.
"Infantry?" I asked.
"Didn't get numbers, but a few. Looked like they were setting up more barricades."
"So, what, we wait until it burns itself out?" Skip asked in turn.
"Yeah, if you wanna wait for a week," One of the Commandos said with a laugh, fiddling with the stock of his carbine, "It's an AT-PT, that thing could fall into a Raxus sludge pit and come out peachy."
"Anti-tank out of the question?" Bite asked, pulling a thermal detonator from the back of his belt and waving it. The Commando officer shook his head, sounding almost tempted when he responded.
"Not this close to the outer walls."
"Then we do this the old fashioned way," I decided, jerking a thumb back the way we came, "Take your men and go around, flank them. We send the security droids whichever way it isn't looking."
"Agreed," The Commando said, thankfully not arguing against my orders. He rose to his feet and signalled for his men to follow, the survivors filing back down the hallway. I pointed after them, addressing the KX security droids.
"Wait at that corner."
Without a word, they lumbered away. I shifted up to my knee, nodding Swift toward the corner to keep an eye out. He grumbled something, but crept closer. When I turned to Bite to signal him the same, I was given pause by a distant BOOM. The station didn't shake, nor would I have noticed the sound over the blaster fire had I not specifically muffled it.
"That wasn't us." Bite muttered, thumbing the controls on his rotary cannon as he shifted.
"I think our time table just pushed forward." Database quipped.
"Swift?" I called, standing up now. The Clone waited a moment before shaking his head, not looking back.
"Nothing. Y'know, for light infantry, these guys are damned- Oh, alright, Yevs are taking hits."
Swift adjusted, revealing a simple, glimmering mirror in his right hand while his left held aloft his carbine. I got to my feet in a flash, stacking up behind the trooper alongside Bite and Database. From this angle I could see the mirror better, but could only make out the flash of red bolts as they flew by.
"The walker?" I asked, but Swift clicked his tongue.
"Holding… Holding… Taking hits, but he's ignoring them… Come on…" After several more heartbeats, Swift rose in a jump, "He's turning!"
"Move!" I snap, turning my head and jabbing a hand forward, "Droids, push! Walker is priority!"
As one, their heads turned to face me, eyes glowing ominously in their expressionless faces. I didn't have long to consider them as I turned forward once more, following Database as we saddled up behind Bite. The rotary cannon spun to life alongside its shield, taking a few blaster bolts from the Yevs watching our direction. Most ducked behind their barricades, not eager to suffer Bite's withering barrage. However, my attention was immediately dragged to the three-meter tall eyesore squatting in the middle of the intersection. True to Database's words, yellow stripes and green paint denoted the walker as an engineering variant - one suited for cargo hauling. A pair of large, thick claws hung next to the cockpit, obscuring the blaster cannon from our angle. The Imperial roundel on the side had been crudely painted over.
I raised my carbine and shot the Yevethan standing closest to the walker, using it as cover from the Commandos in the intersecting corridor. That was all I managed before something whistled past my head, a large blur of white.
It was only as the object impacted one of the shields and sent it, and the two Yevs behind it, skidding back a pace that I realized what it was. The body of the dead Navy Commando, armor blackened by the spray of blaster fire moments before, lay in a crumpled heap at the face of the shield - a sizable dent in his helmet now and one eye lens shattered outward. I was not allowed a moment more to consider what I saw as six towering droids strode past us.
Each droid was not moving at anything more than a jog, but for them - being over two meters and seventy-percent leg - it was a blistering pace. The Yevs realized far too late exactly what was bearing down on them, though a few managed to put some bolts down range before the security droids reached them. One got lucky, a bolt catching a KX in its head. The droid froze immediately, head jerking back before it fell to its knees. The droid behind it had little care for the corpse of its fallen comrade, back handing it away and reaching over the barricade it had died before. The Yevs behind cried out, either in surprise or fear, before both were hefted up into the air. The left Yevethan was thrown backwards, towards Swift who had to scramble back and avoid the flailing body. A blaster bolt rendered that Yevethan dead, but it was the second that suffered the droid's attention.
The droid lifted the Yevethan by the front of its armor before slamming it down on its back, directly on the top of the barricade. I didn't know if the cracking was the stolen plastoid armor or the bones beneath, but the droid did not pause. It lifted the Yevethan back up and slammed it down, this time neck-first onto the durasteel barricade. The angle the Yev's head was bent at told me survival was unlikely, but my gaze was turning to the next showcase. A second droid held a Yevethan up by its neck, crushing the life from the alien as its freehand fired a blaster carbine, catching one of the other Yevs as it ran for cover. The dying Yevethan, still held aloft, went for its pistol - so take out the droid with it, but I silenced that plan with a blast of my own. The KX didn't so much as glance at its now-dead quarry, dropping the body casually and lumbering toward the AT-PT.
The walker seemed to belatedly realize it was being flanked again, and these enemies were of a far more dangerous variety. It turned, trying to bring its twin blaster cannon to bear. I dove for cover, alongside my fellow Clones, but we needn't have worried. Two droids converged on the walker at the same time. One caught the walker by the barrels of its blaster cannon. While not strong enough to stop the walker wholesale from turning, it kept the weapon pointed up and away from danger. The second droid grabbed the walker by the front of the cockpit with one hand and reeled the other back, blaster holstered at its hip. I was given a front row seat to the cockpit's transparisteel window cracking under the first punch.
Let no one tell you that security droids were a cheap alternative to organic officers. If anything, the KX-series were grossly overqualified for their positions, silly as they might look at times. By the third punch, the operator got wise and tried to use the claws to push the droids away or crush them. It was too late, as the fourth punch sailed through the cockpit and into the pilot.
That the droid did not attempt to strike again clued me in to the Yevethan's fate.
Suddenly, the five droids turned as one to face the right hallway, in the direction of the administration offices. I realized belatedly that the Commandos had not stopped firing, the reason why evidenced by one of the security droids having its leg blown clean off. The droid caught itself on the AT-PT, blaster rising in its free hand to return fire.
"Get to cover!" I barked out to the droids as me and my four troopers rushed for the corner.
"Every bloody corner," Database bemoaned. Bite was fiddling with his blaster cannon, kneeling now and muttering under his breath.
"Bite?"
"Shield recharging…" Bite said, before cursing and shaking out his hand - smoke was rising from the blaster, "Cheap, BlasTech… ugh…"
"We're going to need something heavier than a personal shield," Swift, who was at the corner again, said. He was using his mirror again, jerking his hand away as a bolt came a little too close for comfort, "I'm counting three E-Webs, something like twenty Yevs, and a whole lot of dead Imperials. Looks like station security has fallen."
I looked down the hall in the direction of the Commandos, seeing them holding their own corners and unable to return fire.
Three damned turrets…
I glanced longingly at the detonator on Database's back before shaking my head and sighing. I pointed to the surviving KX droids, the second casualty lay in a smoldering ruin against the AT-PT.
"Grab these shields and make a line at this corner." I ordered them. The four droids moved instantly, grabbing the nearby durasteel barricades the Yevs had set up and carried them to the corner we were hiding behind. Unfortunately, the error in my order was made clear as the first droid took the corner, standing up straight. KX security droids were not very bright.
All three of the E-Webs zeroed in on the tall, large target. The droid stumbled as the heavy blaster bolts slammed into the shield, nearly making it lose its footing. One of the E-Web turrets got lucky, catching the droid in the chest and sending it - and the shield - sprawling across the floor. I quickly signalled the other droids back.
"Use the barricade as a shield, hunker down behind it as you move!" I tried, but all three droids just stared at me - unmoving.
"They're naval security droids, sir," Database said, sounding equal parts amused and annoyed, "The most complex order they understand is-"
"Stow it, Database, or I'm having them throw you out there!" I snap, sitting back on my haunches and thinking. I glanced at the AT-PT, briefly wondering if we could somehow turn it on the defending Yevethans. Unfortunately, even if its front viewscreen wasn't shattered, the rear of the vehicle was in flames - caught under the withering barrage of anti-personnel blaster fire.
"Ideas?" I asked, opening communications with the Commandos as well - hoping one of them might have a plan.
"We'll come around to your side," The Commando officer announced, his tone strained, "Have the droids pushed those barricades out into the hall. Just push."
I gave the order. The security droids set their burdens down and kicked them out into the hallway, sending the durasteel panels skidding and shrieking across the floor. One turned and fell over, rendered useless now, but the other two at least somewhat remained facing in the right direction. Unfortunately, the turret operators focused on them first. Both shields began sliding back, inch by inch, under the withering fire power. They could be locked in place, but that wouldn't be much use if we couldn't reach them.
I sucked in a breath, trying to center myself before patting Database on the shoulder.
"Get ready," I ordered, earning an actual double-take from the trooper as he looked back at me.
"For what?!" I pointed at the further of the two barricades, which were sliding inexorably back toward the AT-PT.
"On my mark, you and I make a run for that barricade - get behind it and slow it down." Database, despite his devil-may-care attitude, merely responded to my plan with a short nod. A hand clasped my shoulder, eliciting a turn from me to see the Navy Commando officer and his men. I quickly included them into my plan.
"One of you, with me and Database - we're going for that far shield. Two more, go with Swift and take the nearest one. Keep it from moving. Commander, once we're in position, get two of the droids behind those barricades with us - I don't know how, but word the order in some way that keeps them from getting themselves killed."
"Done." The Commando said immediately, signalling two of his men up. The one that joined me was their heavy gunner, slinging his blaster cannon over his shoulder. At his nod, I grabbed Database's shoulder and signalled Bite to push. The Clone let out a roar and turned the corner, cannon already rising and spinning up. I did not take a moment to glance at the defenses ahead, ducking my head low and sprinting across the intersection to my objective. I heard the hum of the shield coming to life, and the near-instant pop of it being shut down at all attention turned to Bite.
I dove behind the barricade, landing on its far side and nearly rolling out of cover again. I caught myself on one of the handholds, joined shortly by Database and the Commando. All three of us braced ourselves against the durasteel panels, feeling the thud of heavy blaster bolts against its armored face. The hits sent shocks down my shoulder, but we weren't being pushed back.
I looked up, through the transparisteel view slit near the top of the barricade to see what we were dealing with.
It was not good.
Bodies littered the hallway beyond the last few intersections, Imperials and Yevethans left dead where they fell. Tiers of barricades led all the way up the ramp to a blast door at the end, a trio of the aforementioned E-Web turrets facing down. Swift had underestimated their numbers, more than twenty Yevethans were holding each tier of the defenses - though the majority were not armed or armored as well as the last group. A rear-guard or clean-up crew that was forced to defend themselves when we arrived. Not that pushing them would be any easier, they had the numbers and the position.
I turned my head in time to see one of the KX security droids sprinting toward me. I sucked in a breath, hand tightening on my blaster where it rested at my hip before the droid sailed past me and to the other side of the hallway. It pressed against the corner and turned its glowing-eye gaze down to where I say.
"Do you require assistance?" A distinctly feminine voice asked.
"Crouch." A voice crackled over the communicator, belonging to the Commando Commander. I glanced in his direction to see what he was doing. Swift and two of the Commandos were at the other shield, braced against it themselves, while the Commander directed one of the droids. It was knelt down now, head lowered and giving the droid more of a hunch-backed appearance. I followed suit, giving the same order to the droid near me.
"Walk behind that shield and grab it. Do not stand up."
I repeated that order as well. The droid lurched forward to obey, awkwardly waddling as it sidled up behind us. Its hands reached around us to grab the handholds for the shield, intended to be used by a duo of men to carry the damned thing. All at once, the force of the blasters hitting the shield waned - absorbed by the far stronger droid.
"Keep low and push," I ordered the droid, tapping Database's shoulder, "Give it a hand. Commando? Fire and move, but don't get caught out."
"Got it," The human grunted, rolling to his hands and knees and keeping his blaster held aloft. I did the same on my side, getting ready to scoot forward. The barricade shrieked against the durasteel floor as it was pushed forward, but we were making progress now.
Slow, agonizing, but progress.
I leaned around the barricade and squeezed off a shot, cursing as my bolt caught one of the Yev barricades. It forced the defender into cover, but earned me the ire of the neighboring E-Web. I leaned back into cover, reached across Database to catch the Commando by the back of his armor. I yanked him back just in time, the E-Web sweeping out position with a hail of blaster bolts.
"Fucking Yevethans," The Commando cursed loudly, leaning back against the barricade now.
"Commando gets his first taste of actual combat, complains immediately. What, they don't teach you how to push a defensive position in Mall Security Training-"
I bring my fist down on Database's helmet, shutting him up immediately. My response was cut off, as my position gave me the perfect view of Swift across the hallway. The trooper turned around his cover, carbine raised and firing. Yet, just as he was turning to hide away again, a bolt slammed into the upper-left section of his armor. He spun, going limp and collapsing partially behind the barricade again. The Navy Commando nearest to Swift grabbed the Clone and dragged him the rest of the way, his limp form taking another bolt to the left before he was completely sequestered.
"Fucking Yevethans!" Database growled this time, his helmet turning to where Swift was - unable to see past the Commando at his side. I glance at my heads-up display, relief briefly flooding my mind before I focus again.
"He's alive."
"Droid, keep pushing," Was all Database had as a response, throwing his back against the shield as the droid - which had not stopped for a second, continued. The progress of the other shield slowed, with one Navy Commando forced to drag Swift's limp form behind them. Our return fire withered to nothing, completely pinned as we were. I sucked in a breath, placing my back to the barricade as I tried to think of something…
A noise rose over the cacophony of blaster fire, the shrill shriek of metal on metal. Unlike the barricades however, whatever this new sound was - it moved fast. Very fast, and it was getting louder. I never fought in the Clone Wars, nor had I the chance to fight against whatever seppie holdouts Lord Vader hunted after the war. But I knew that sound - every Clone with a passing interest in the war knew that sound.
"About time!" The Commando barked.
Like a swarm of circular locusts, the droidekas appeared around the corner the remaining Commandos were hiding behind. Their grey armor glimmered like they were freshly polished moments before. A single droideka could hold a company of men if they were positioned correctly, a dozen of them?
And then the leading droideka detonated under the hail of blaster fire. Unfortunately, someone, somewhere had cheaped out. These destroyer droids were older models, Trade Federation older. They ran off a central computer, reliant either on a constant connection or pre-programmed orders. Given that our communications were still down, these droids had to be programmed beforehand - hence the delay.
A second destroyer droid fell as they rolled past us, all fire falling on the horde of rolling droids.
"Give them cover!" I yell, getting to my feet and raising my blaster. Database was a heartbeat behind, steading his barrel on the lip of the barrier and sending a spray of suppressing fire. Five blasters - the two Commandos at the other shield joined us - forced several of the Yevs back into cover, joined by those Commandos still further back. A third destroyer was lost, but the moment passed.
Like a wave, blue shields snapped into place. A wall of bubbles blocked my view, interrupted only by red flashes of small arm fire against the shields. The sound that followed was indescribable. Even with the fastest firing blaster, you would hear the individual bolts leaving the barrel. At this moment, I was hit by a solid wave of sound as every destroyer droid fired at once. Through the cracks in their wall of shield and droid, I could see one of the E-Web crumple under its own weight. Bodies flew back or fell where they stood.
I slumped against the shield, taking a moment to suck in a desperately needed breath.
The aftermath of the assault was comparatively lackluster. Most of the Yevs had rushed to man the barricades, with the survivors beyond taken care of easily enough. The destroyer droids, having completed their orders, now milled around the admin offices aimlessly.
The offices themselves were as much a mess as the defenses outside, if not worse. Civilians had been holed up here alongside officers, and it was clear the Yevethans did not discriminate between combatants and non-combatants. The dead and dying littered the rooms, and there was nothing we could do for any of them.
"I've got a positive identification," Database announced, knelt beside the mutilated corpse of an Imperial - his grey uniform denoting him as an officer. I joined Database, studying the corpse with a clinical eye.
"... They didn't let him die easily." I noted, looking away from what remained of the 'face', "You sure?"
"Blood matches, rank plaques too. Code cylinders are gone."
"Not very far," I turned as a Navy Commando spoke, standing over the corpse of a Yevethan we had killed on our way into the conference room. It was the heavy gunner, his T-21 slung over one shoulder as he prodded the corpse with a boot. I joined the man, looking down at the Yev. In its hand, four gleaming cylinders were held tightly - stained with blood, though whose I would rather not know.
I knelt down, prying the cylinders from its cooling hand and slapping them into a pouch on my hip.
"Cylinders won't be worth anything without the Admiral," The Commando noted, nodding to Paret's body. I hummed, looking away to the exit of the room. Sensing the source of my concern, the Commando continued, "Your man… Swift, was it? Took the bolt on his chest well, plastoid took the worst of it. Throw him in bacta and he'll live. Commander's worried 'bout the leg, though. You'll need a medic to say more on that."
"How bad?"
"Shit, I don't know, I'm not a medic. I've seen guys get their arms put back on if you're fast enough, so I'm not too worried."
I grunted a response before nodding my thanks to the Commando, leaving him and returning to Database.
"What'd NavSec have to say?"
"They have names, Database."
"Yeah? Never would have guessed," I slapped the back of his helmet, "I don't know his name, Talik."
"He found the cylinders," I turned to face the Commando again, "Hey Commando, you got a name?"
"Soont," The man responded. I turned to Database, repeating the name.
"Yeah, I heard him. Hell kind of name is 'Soont'?"
"What'd they call you, Clone?"
"Database."
"The hell kind of name is 'Database'?" Database scoffed, making an obscene gesture toward the man as he focused on the dead Paret again. He pushed the man, resting his weight.
"... What security do you think he has on those cylinders, biometrics?"
"And a password," I agreed, "But you can crack a password. Just need to guess which cylinder is the right one and then stick his thumb on it."
"You think Tullius is going to want the body?"
"I'm not carrying it." Bite said from nearby. He had his blaster cannon set up on the table, working on it with tools liberated from the fallen Yevethans - it's shield appearing to be well and truly lost.
"Well, we can't let him fall into Yevethan hands," Database argued, "That's just begging for trouble. Think there's an incinerator nearby?"
Hands.
I turned, spotting an ice box on a nearby table - left from before the start of the rebellion a few hours prior.
"Soont, check if there's any airlocks or incinerators near here," I ordered the Commando, who nodded and ran back outside. I turn back to Paret's body, "Bite? Get over here, and bring your knife."
A special thanks goes out to my Captain of the Empire:
Ivan Chechnya
Without their support, the borderlands would have fallen long ago. As always, I appreciate your support!