The rain streaked down heavily from the dark night sky. The hills and valleys rose and fell steadily, each one topped by a litter of boulders and rocks. The ground seemed to swallow the sheep's legs leaving only the damp and unhappy clouds of the animals to suffer in the weather. The fog and night fell heavily over these isolated animals blocking many of them from seeing beyond their own field. A single clone stood atop a small cairn unaware to the poor flock of wool closing together for warmth.
Groaning in frustration the clone lifted the macro-binoculars from his helmet. There wasn't much point in using them. Visibility was nothing more than 5 meters, instead the clouds and shadows of night hugged close to him isolating him. Deciding its time to call in he turned to his speeder where a small communications device was set up on its back. "Commander this is CT-2112 reporting in." He spoke through clearly, unaware of the shadows behind him.
"Roger CT-2112, anything to report rookie." The clone groaned at being referred as such by his commanding officer. "Wait until you see me in combat." The clone muttered frustrated at his meaningless role, he was a soldier not a lookout. "What was that rookie?" The clone captain barked back. Upon realisation of his mistake he quickly sputtered through, "Nothing sir... I mean I have been unable to locate any enemy troops." Not like there is anything to see.
"What is your position?" the officer responded, not caring for the obvious lie. With a slight amount of fiddling the clone pulled out a loose holo-projector displaying a blue coloured image of the surrounding invisible terrain. He was on the edge between a field, which was large enough to land a few LAATs, and the large and endless moorland of Pandora. "665 720 sir." The clone said.
"Roger, be advised enemy troops were confirmed to have landed 30 clicks to your north 8 hours ago. Your orders are to hold position for the night and a new team will head out in the morning, be aware no other patrols are operating nearby. Understood?"
"Yes sir." The clone muttered back with contempt at having to remain in the wet night.
Clicking off his communicator he turned his head to the direction of the enemy force. Seeing as how he wasn't going to see anything he turned back to his equipment unaware of the soaked silhouette behind him. With lighting speed, it smashed its shoulder into the unsuspecting clone's back whilst grabbing around its legs and pulling them. The quick a fluid and motion took the white armoured mass by complete surprise sending him flying face forward onto the ground. Not missing a beat, the silhouette jumped onto the back of the clone pressing his helmet further into the mud. The pair struggled, the clone trying to get his attacker off and the attacker trying to grab something. The attacker succeeded. Drawing a 12-inch blade the silhouette thrusted it hard into the clone, right between the helmet and breast plate. Just as fast as the fight had started it ended, not without several seconds of bleeding from the clone.
Satisfied the silhouette stood up revealing several small patches amongst the mass of heavy equipment. E Cohen was sewn onto his chest in a dark black thread, whilst his shoulders bore the name plate of Marine Commando. Raising his arm to his head, which was covered by his drenched chestnut hair and a headset, he twisted his hand into what resembled a spider atop his head. With this simple gesture the very ground behind him seemed to raise up and move around him before returning to their hidden forms. Several ran over to Cohen in crouched and low positions, watching steadily as the marine cleaned the blood off his blade. "Thanks Dan." Ethan whispered seeing the awaiting rifle in his friend's hand. "Nice kill." He responded with a mischievous grin. With a quick nod from Cohen's black and green covered face Dan turned to kneel with his back to his friend. "Hello Zero, this is Charlie 1 Sunray, sending SITREP over." Cohen carefully said as he adjusted the straps on his recovered bag. "Roger, send over." Came the crackled reply through the attached headset. "Time is 2131, Charlie 1 and Charlie 2 are at full strength and have taken control of objective knife. Enemy have no remaining forces with 1 confirmed kill. I therefore intend to clear the area in preparation for secondary forces, over."
"Acknowledged, continue as planned, out." Happy with the response Ethan tapped his friend's shoulder before indicating down the hill, "Take Charlie 2 and clear the west side." Dan nodded before raising to his feet and indicating for some of the surrounding men to do similar. Cohen watched, whilst replacing his helmet, his friend stalks off into the rain-soaked clouds on his mission, disappearing from sight. With a final breath the marine leader flipped down the goggles attached to his helmet and led his men off to continue their objectives a heavy humming following him across the hill.
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The sun's light begun to rise over the tops of Andor's soaked building tops, the brick and steel reflecting the yellow glow of the sun. Andor wasn't impressive like the capital city, but was a key part of the agricultural industry. Being used as a transportation hub for the local sheep farms. To an invading army however it was a key crossroads in the magnetic rail lines, thus cutting it off could secure large proportions of the planets south western-sectors. This prompted the republic to deploy the 87th regiment of the 11th legion to secure it.
A large rail unit clattered along beneath Daz's feet as he sat peacefully on the edge of a tall building overlooking the town and its defences. He and his master had been rushed out to Pandora to begin the defensive work of the planet from the threat of the UNSC. As of now the pair of Jedi were waiting around for the accompanying regiment to deploy. They didn't have enough gunships to transport a regiment, let alone the entire legion so had to make do with the local rail network to transport their supplies. Besides the 6 gunships they had brought were going to be needed to hunt down the initial landing forces of the UNSC.
Daz was looking at the map their cruisers had formulated of the local area, and the UNSC landing zone. They had deployed in the southern area of the planet, 40km deep within perhaps the most challenging terrain to attack across. The UNSC's idea to attack out of it was odd to Daz. Strategically it made sense to remove an environment that advantaged the defender, but tactically it was impossible to fight in; especially with the use of Republic walkers; as well as there being no easy area to land reserve forces, the only area was under watch of a clone scout 10km away.
Daz wasn't exactly thrilled with being assigned the defence of Pandora, he much preferred fighting droids. But alas the Council had sent him here in desperation with only a fraction of experienced troops and serviced equipment, everything else had been destroyed by the traitorous mandalorian. It had been a surprise to him that someone who had fought so valiantly for the Republic would betray it at the drop of a stone. Daz was concerned about Ahsoka. He could see the two had been close and felt sympathy for his friend, Satine didn't. She kept her mouth shut around Ahsoka, but secretly she had told Daz that she wasn't surprised at the actions of the mandalorian. He didn't know why she had distrusted the warrior but he was worried about the quiet rage she was bottling up.
"Sir!" Daz jumped slightly from his thoughts at the call. Turning he met the familiar helmet of Arc Commander Condor of the 87th.
"Just call me Daz, Condor," The clone relaxed slightly, "what can I do you for you?"
"The last battalion of the regiment has arrived and is unloading now, and the forward defences are complete." Daz nodded at the information. The clones of the regiment had been preparing defences all night. "Well then let's go and see if the General had got anything for us." Daz switched off his holoprojector; the only piece of technology he was allowed to touch; and begun his way towards the command post, Condor at his side.
Condor watched the young padawan wearily. He trusted the Jedi's ability in the force, but not their ability to lead an army. The last time he had fought beside them he had watched as they selfishly ran off to deal with the command post. Normally this would be understandable, cut the head off of the rancor early, however they had elected with having the rest of the legion draw out the enemy in an isolated position. They meant well, however Condor struggled to see past the needless bloodshed of their actions.
Clones were littering the outside of the temporary command post established by the 87th. It was a large red brick building with a large circular steeple at its centre. Reaching the door, Daz drew his hand across it in admiration. He had to grant it to the terrans they knew how to make art. The door was made of a heavy dark wood, engraved with swirling symbols and a large circle, within which was set a loose jumble of other symbols. Everything from a simple cross, to a complicated letter from some foreign language was engraved into the door. Whilst, the clones or his master didn't seem to understand the importance of the building, Daz could. Something seemed to resonate off of it in the swirling mystery of the force. Daz would have liked to explore further and find out what the building meant to the locals, however war called his name.
A simple hologram of Andor was projected from a small circular device, where holograms of Daz's master; the 11th legion's clone commander; and a clone fleet captain were also projected. It was lain on the top most point of the command post. It was the best vantage point with wide gaps between the supports to see out of. A clone squad stood atop the tower with the group, keeping an eye over the town. "What does the situation look like in space, captain?" The calm voice of the Jedi General spoke. The blue hologram of the Mon Calamari was standing in front of the rising sun atop the steeple. "The UNSC fleet seem to be holding their distance. We are unsure of why." The similar blue hue of the clone naval captain responded. "Very well," the General continued, "has the last battalion arrived yet, Daz?" Looking towards the young Jedi expectantly,
"Yes master." Daz responded ignoring the chattering of the surrounding clone squad.
"Good, I suggest you begin preparations for the search..." The hologram suddenly begun fritzing out heavily blocking out the transmission of the holoprojector. This sudden interruption caused a few curious glances among the clones. Daz however held a face of utter fear.
BOOM
The distant sound of an exploding shell caused the clones to shout in surprise. "Karabast." Daz muttered before racing towards the window. Across the town the were long lines of trenches spread out like veins from the city. Each one was filled with the white clean tops of clone, each crawling around like ants. Beside the trenches were the large republic AT-TE's, fortified by earth embankments. The explosion was one of many, as a large chorus of sounds rung from the fields. Huge billows of smoke and fire sprung high into the air propelling anyone or thing not hunkered down. Dirt, armour, and blood would leap out of the trenches as invisible forces caused such an awe-inspiring spectacle. Walkers fared no better, as their bodies arched and twisted in molten metal from the barrage.
Nobody moved. They were all so entranced by the spectacle before them that they failed to notice shadows of bird like creatures cast in metal rushing toward them. Screeching overhead, everyone ducked out of instinct, even though the bird like machine was too high to threaten them. Turning around Daz raced to the other edge, watching as the gunships and walkers gathered in the yard were preyed upon. The long black beaks of the flying machines were directed at the walkers ready for the kill. Releasing two balls of flames, the metal bird turned away. The balls of fire however continued, gathering speed before smashing into their targets. Clones ran in wild arcs, trying to put out the flames on the vehicles or themselves. "Commander, we have got incoming at 005." A clone expertly called out.
Returning to the view of the defensive lines, Daz looked out at the carnage with awe and fear. The artillery barrage had lifted as great armoured beasts flew out of the forest line, their treads kicking up huge plumes of smoke and dust. Their turrets twisted around letting loose darts of steel in great fiery explosion. An AT-TE was still standing, its gunner trying in desperation to pinpoint the new threats. Swinging the gun round the clone fired a heavy blue ball of plasma at an advancing tank. The round sailed through the air, smashing into the sloped armour and covering it in a thick smoke. Daz couldn't help but give a whoop at the success of the gunner, however he celebrated too early. The terran vehicle rolled out of the smoke slowly, obviously damaged but still working. Turning its turret, the tank fired in retaliation. The AT-TE's back burst into a molten steel and fire as the terran's shell tore through its back.
Behind the terran tanks were multiple smaller boxes, each one rattling from the amount of fire they were spitting out. Screeching to a stop over the trench lines, lines that the tanks had elected to ignore, the small boxes suddenly disappeared into a haze of white and grey smoke. Everyone was confused at why they had done that until they spotted what looked to be little green men jumping from the back of the little armoured boxes. Suddenly the trenches that had remained so quiet and dark were quickly lit up by flashes of red, orange and blue. The clones and padawan watched as slowly these sporadic light shows twisted their way through the trenches towards the command bunker. There was only a slight pause before suddenly the bunker erupted into flames, leaving the on lookers shook.
Daz however was clutching at his head hard as he sensed death resonate through the force. With a silent tear down his face the young padawan was about to start issuing orders when he felt a great disturbance. With a cry of desperation Daz screamed his lungs out, "Get out of the tower NOW!" With a rapid scramble everyone raced towards the stairs to get down. Suddenly the tower shook as several rounds punctured the brick column throwing Daz, Condor and several others off the tower and into the open air. Reacting quickly Daz streamlined himself to reach the ground as fast as possible. With a stylish roll he turned to catch the screaming figures of his clone comrades. Slowly he brought them down before spotting the heavy debris of the tower come crashing down on top of them. Grabbing the arms of the furthest clones he pulled them out of the way before the ground erupted in a large storm of red mist.
Daz was clutching at the wall for support, his head buzzing. So much had happened. The attack had unbalanced him. The cries of pain and surprise of his men rung in his ear as he tried to calm himself. Slowly, the nautolan took a deep breath, controlling his shaking hands. He turned to the scene in front of him, which was blurred heavily, several clones ran wildly desperately pulling half buried men from the rubble.
Condor pulled himself upright anxious to go and aid his brothers against the advancing form, "Sir, are you alright?" The Arc asked noticing the Jedi padawan leaning on the wall. He had perhaps used the force too much in such a short amount of time. "I'm fine Condor." The boy lied, as blood begun dripping from his head. Moving with gritted teeth, Condor watched as the boy begun to limp away from the wall. "Gather the men, and get ready to move." With a smile the ARC commander grabbed at a loose lying blaster rifle ready to shout orders to engage the enemies. The Jedi's next words stopped him, "We're falling back."
"We're falling back." Daz hated retreating. He loathed it, but he had to do it. Andor was lost; what use is it to fight for something already lost. He hadn't the strength or resilience to fight on. He had to retreat. Condor sharply turned around looking him dead in the eye, "What?"
"We're retreating." Daz confirmed with as much confidence as possible.
"But, Sir. We can't." The clones took note of Condor's aggressive tone, slowing what they were doing to watch.
"I'm sorry Condor, but we have no choice. The terrans will be on top of us in minutes; we won't survive." Daz said through gritted teeth, using everything in his willpower not to agree with the commander. "What about the wounded, captured, or men still holding out."
"Condor, now is not the time. We have to go." Daz said exasperated. Thinking the conversation over Daz was about to turn to leave when Condor struck low,
"Don't you want justice for your master, for your friend." Daz stopped turning carefully, he stared the Arc commander down.
"I do, but Andor is lost. Lost! If we don't fall back now, the terran forces will be halfway to the capital before the rest of the legion realises. I know how much your brothers mean to you but we have to retreat to ask the republic to send more forces. Do you understand?" By now about 50 clones were standing in the small area they had landed in, watching with curiosity. Condor didn't respond for a minute, as if he was thinking of some excuse, until finally the clone shouted out with heavy reluctance, "You heard him boys, let's get going."
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Daz was sitting on the tail end of a stolen train, the remnants of the 87th piled in behind him. They had been fortunate that the air cover had been more interested in the republic vehicles than the actual rail units. The retreat however was disorganised, many clones had been unable to make it to the yard as terran soldiers begun to move into the city. The ones who did were forced to load up into carriages filled with the carcasses of dead animals. Daz griped his lightsabre tightly as he thought to the initial attack. Droids were clumsy and predictable, easy to out maneuverer in a fight, the terrans however were different. Their attack had been swift and decisive, something that Daz knew he was going to need to adjust to if he was to survive.
The heavy sigh of another caught his attention as the familiar helmet of Condor sat beside him. "I'm sorry sir, I shouldn't have gone against your orders." Again, they had been fortunate to escape the train yard, as just when they were leaving terran soldiers had begun firing on them, killing many. "It's fine Condor, as commander of the 87th your duty is to your men. You only wanted to avenge them." Daz consoled. "How many survived?" It was a hard question for any commander, but it had to be asked. Sighing out of grief Condor answered,
"Not enough to make a company," he begun with heavy words, "about a third of them are wounded. Those we were able to rescue are mostly shinnies, a few experienced clones but nothing else." With a quiet nod Daz turned to the rolling hills and valleys that would soon be tomorrow's battle ground...
I'm back. Only for a short while, but still. Anyhow, Happy Easter everyone. I should be able to get the next chapter out on schedule as from end of next week onwards I will be returning to my Oh-so important exams. (Sarcastic) Yaaaaay. I will try to put out a chapter or two when I find the time but until May no promises. Again I must remind you that I do not take ownership of Star Wars or any images used, they belong to people a lot more talented than me. I only own my characters and my story.
I would also like to raise, with the introduction of terran ground forces I will be willing to include any and all suggestions for possible inclusions of current serving outfits. Or outfits of old if you like history.
Anyway, I hope all my happy readers are doing well in life, and until we meet again.