Chapter 2: Operation Yeldog

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The comm crackled to life with a splutter, then Emil's smug grin filled the room. "There you go, boys and girls! Direct line to Outpost Jere."

Yoelajn and Tempaah's bickering died down, replaced by the collective anticipation that crackled like static in the air. Fives straightened, the ever-present scowl momentarily replaced by something akin to hope. Even Karno, the regiment's resident cynic, couldn't hide a flicker of interest.

Yeldog strode forward, the weight of command etched on his scarred face. He tapped in the secure channel, his voice gravelly from the battle's dust. "This is Commander Yeldog of the 501st, requesting contact with Outpost Jere. Do you copy?"

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, a voice emerged, crisp and professional. "Outpost Jere here. We read you loud and clear, Commander Taz is expecting your report."

A triumphant smirk crossed Emil's face, momentarily forgotten. But Karno, ever the opportunist, couldn't resist. "Outpost Jere, huh? Sounds like someone found something bigger than their own ego." Laughter rippled through the room, but Fives cut it short with a sharp glare. "Shut it, Karno. Let the Commander speak."

Yeldog, unfazed by the banter, relayed their intel: depleted numbers, a lone AT-TE, and a handful of AT-RTs. He finished with a grim satisfaction, "But I still have my best men."

The reply was immediate. "Commander Taz commends your spirit. He reports the Admiral demands an immediate assault on the nearby enemy base. Seems eager to see it gone."

Yeldog's frown deepened. "Low on reinforcements, are we? Any chance you can spare some?"

Disappointment settled on the room like a fog. Fives crossed his arms, mirroring the Commander's frown. "Negative, Commander. Our forces are stretched thin defending the Outpost."

Yeldog knew what that meant. A suicide mission. He surveyed his weary squad, their faces etched with the same grim understanding. But defeat wasn't an option.

"Fine," he said, his voice hardened with resolve. "We'll do what we can with what we have."

A flicker of hope sparked in Taz's voice. "Good luck, Commander. The Republic is counting on you."

The hologram flickered out, leaving the squad in tense silence. The weight of the mission sat heavy in the air.

Suddenly, Emil piped up, his voice buzzing with nervous excitement. "Sir, while I was fiddling with the comm, I stumbled upon some schematics of the enemy base. Might be helpful."

Hope flickered in Fives' eyes. "Let's see those plans, Emil."

The schematic unfolded on the holotable, revealing a surprisingly rudimentary base layout. Yoelajn scoffed. "Not exactly Fort Knox, is it?"

Tempaah, ever the pragmatist, countered, "Don't underestimate them, kid. Umbarans keep their secrets close, it's why the Seppies snatched them up. And their tech...well, let's just say 'unconventional' is putting it mildly."

Fives grumbled, fiddling with his Z-6. "They'll get a taste of this bad boy, Umbarans or not."

Snoke Fett's dry humour cut through the tension. "Try not to overcompensate, Fivey."

Laughter crackled around the room, a much-needed release. Even Karno managed a smirk. "Now that was funny," muttered Bappo, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

Yeldog and Baker, however, remained focused. This was no laughing matter. "What if we..." Baker began, outlining a daring plan that involved a split attack, a feint, and a dash of recklessness.

Yeldog listened intently, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Baker, I think you've just found the perfect candidate for Operation Yeldog."

All eyes turned towards Fives, who stood there, arms crossed, a familiar smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. "Looks like I'm about to become even more legendary, eh, Commander?"

And so, amidst the grit and grime of war, a spark of hope ignited. With a ragtag squad, a stolen plan, and a healthy dose of audacity, the 501st prepared to face the impossible. Their laughter, their camaraderie, it was their war cry, a defiant melody against the backdrop of impending battle. They were the 501st, and they never backed down from a challenge, no matter how odds stacked against them.

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