A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

[sonofccn]

Another Talkie I'm afraid through this time it doesn't involve just a bunch of old guys talking around a table but a robot! Robots make everything neat and more interesting right? Just like monkeys?

“Why can you still see it? Because the photons of light, as well as the heaty-ray, are not impeded but dispersed. So scattered they present as much harm as the gentle spray of droplets from a hose does to you.” Baron (Former) Blud explaining to select political and military witnesses how the derelict Saucership’s shield system worked.

Wraith, sickbay:

Medical droid J05-PH stood patiently before the bacta tank, its electronic eyes watching the slumbering form tucked within every twitch as well as reading off of a continuously updated display transmitted by the tank’s computers regarding his subject. The healing cylinder’s sensors recording all of his vitals as well as creating magnetic overlays and x-captures of his cranial implants the medical droid had implanted and now made review of.

“Your immune system is fighting, corroding the connections. We can’t have that doctor, we have to find an equilibrium but for the moment I believe a suppressant shall do us.” He whispered with some internal clicking and whining as a steely claw poked at a button stud on the tank’s controls and one of the hoses feeding the subject turned a murky color.” Good, very good. A few more alterations and you’ll be ready. A new breed of man, and all developed in bid for a headache cure.”

Satisfied his subject’s tissues were not about to become inflamed with infection the android rotated his hand around and keyed in another node on the controls blackening the glass once again and moved to prepare the operating gurney. The additional tools not built into him laying sterilized in the tray alongside the corkscrew like transponder unit he’d liberated from a storage depot, more capable than the one currently implanted which beamed the neural devices status to the droid and capable of a far greater bandwidth. A necessity to carry out the accidental vision he had stumbled upon while reviewing the stream of pain impulses the implants were intended to cipher and absolve, a bold breathtaking new avenue symbiosis between the weak flesh and the world around it which he intended to pursue to its logical conclusion. As determined by his logic circuits, but that would have to wait. His auditory systems alerting him to the thud of footfalls long before the door the medical bay were opened, Ambrose stepping in first and stepping to the side his arms folded behind his back as Jackson swaggered in.

Attempting to and failing to disguise the binding beneath his uniform or the erratic twitch induced by stimulants from the droid’s robotic orbs. Prerecorded warnings and sage medical advice fought their way up from J05-PH’s memory banks to be spoken but he squashed them. The Commander his ideal reasoning behind the faulty of organic shells and their dubious belief that “spirit” or “will” could compensate or even sustain their obvious failings. Risking the popping of surgical seams and precious energy best used recuperating acting as if no damage had been committed.

“Sir.” He answered briskly with only a slight popping sound betraying no disrespect to the captain of the star destroyer.

“I reckoned there’d be a lively practitioner of the medical arts not a sodden bucket’o bolts, Amrbose?” The Commander thundered disregarding the droid as he swiveled his head fiercely from side to side looking for the flesh and blood doctor.

A distraught Ambrose unusually bristling as he could find no answer to give to his Lord, face tingeing a dark purple as his jaw muscles worked. Aware of no last minute change or further calamity which might have taken the good doctor Antilles from duty, to excuse his absence from the presentations of his findings he requested. Or at least his voice did Ambrose thought darkly at the machine-doctor’s metal face and its dinged and scratched vocalize jutting out from it. Supposedly modern safety subroutines rendered it impossible but he’d heard stories…

Taking advantage of the aid’s delay in responding J05-PH pivot stepped before captain Jackson gesturing with a clawed hand to the specimen they had come to see and answered the commander’s question. Being sure to place just the right amount of hinted at indignation to his electronic noise as he did so for being so colorfully if inaccurately described by the captain.

“I regret to inform you that Dr. Antilles could not be present for shortly after he contacted you, while readjusting the examination table’s restraints, the specimen briefly regained consciousness and injured him as we restrained the creature.” The droid said with a practiced delivery, the glass lenses of its eyes rotating in their sockets as he studied his audience.” Thankfully Antilles was not seriously injured but sustained an incision across his face which required bandaging. Afterwards I gave him a mild sedative and painkillers and dispatched him to his quarters for rest. I assured him, as I assure you now, that I am fully capable of reporting his findings.”

“Why were we not notified? Staff should have been reported, the next doctor on the duty roster called forth, a thousand separate data files of which I would have observed. None of this has trespassed. Why?” Ambrose questioned pointedly, face still just as dark and his jaw twitching beneath his skin.

At his side however Jackson raised a hand, the slight tremble in it going noticed by eyes both artificial and organic, and warded off his assistant’s suspicious line of thought. Impatience or something else compelling him to be done with the matter.

“I don’t see no blasted harm if the tin foot was a might slow in reporting.” Jackson said in a hushed and subdued voice, telling Ambrose all he needed.” As long as we are here I reckon we might as well look at what the darn fool wanted to show us. Assuming Y’all was speaking the truth, droid, and not dang blasted malarkey.”

“Of course sir, the doctor’s notations are fully inscribed into my databank as if I’d composed them myself. I can freely answer any of your questions if you will but follow me.” The robot announced proudly finishing its turn and leading them past a series of medical tables.

The first a refrigerated Imperial gray box filled with salvaged biological material from the space battle in which the remains needed to be identified. By genetic records as little else remained sufficiently to be compared, the crews of entire battle squadrons reduced to such they fitted in one box of not exceptional size. The next table was filled was a far more intact carcasses of one of the alien invaders. A craggy specimen with the crab like outer shell of its body parted down its chest revealing the purple cavity within and its six limbs, four segmented legs and crude hybrids between razor edged pinchers and primate like hand, extended and held down to the table out of the way. Several organs resting on a medical tray hovering beside it in their separate durasteel bowls neatly peeled open and tiny plastic pins inserted into interesting internal workings.

But the true prize lay tethered with unbreakable shackles on the table which lay beyond, a living representative which slumbered under artificial depressants dreaming black dreams of forsaken rites and torrents of crimson. Smaller in stature it was bipedal which a narrow blunt face fusing stiffly into a hood like bone mass protruding out from either side of its neck. Its skin covered instead of carapace with thick, light blue scales overlapping in petal like arrangement from clawed foot to head leaving only such areas as the pinkish wriggled mass its barbed teeth curled out from into a gnarled mess or its hauntingly silver-gray eyes, forever bared without lids, free from the medium.

Even the gentleness of repose unable to hide its nature or purpose, the musk of rotting suffering and death rising off of its flesh challenging the sickly odors rising from the eviscerated corpse petrifying innards. A menagerie of aromas which made both organics cough and raise a hand to their mouth, concerns which did not trifle the robot as it tapped a steely claw against the scaly one’s hide and then pointed to the other.

“Contrary to outward appearances genetic sampling indicates 98.9% similarity between these two subjects, through different portions appear “active”, suggesting they are subspecies rather than distinctly separate organisms.” J05-PH stated, unsure of where exactly to start with.” Further of the reminder the sequences are wildly different, sufficiently divergent amino acids to suggest a secondary evolutionary track both compared with the base genetic material and with each other.”

By medical standards what he had discovered in his study would have been akin to opening up a maintenance panel on any deck of the Wraith and finding within it a pulsating, beating human heart fully formed and fully functional in relation to other mechanical systems. To the officers it was less so and true to his nature Jackson made his opinion clear.

“Tarnation! Are Y’all so darn blasted addled Y’all reckoned we couldn’t read than in a convolutedly report but instead needed to hear it from Y’all metal lips?” He thundered to the highest reaches, eyes dilating and streaks of red appearing in his face as his body was flooded with adrenalin.

“No. It was what I matched one of the 1.1 percent to.” The droid cut in before the captain’s bluster could reach its full fury.” Namely elements in humanity’s genome.”

In a historic occasion Jackson stopped mid outburst, completely closed his mouth and simply thought about what the android had just said. While a proud son of Soth Thejas, the dusty red crown jewel surrounded by the close cluster of its colonies, and holding with him the iron clad belief of being separate and superior with the “softer” Imperials bred elsewhere in the galaxy that did not mean he discarded and rejected all of their underpinnings. Alien life free and unhindered by their superiors was a chaotic and constant threat against Homo Sapians and in one swoop the wool had been pulled away and he’d been brutally exposed to nefarious and unthinkable new form of suppression of the human race. An insidious contamination and destruction almost unthinkable as he stared at the blue plated thing laying on the table.

“Are you…are you implying…it has human parentage?” Ambrose asked finding his voice first, suppressing the tickling at the back of his throat which had nothing to do with the smell, dreading the answer.

“If we were in our native galaxy I could answer definitively. With no known Extant biological relative any genetic relation would suggest human.” J05-PH replied almost enjoying the shades the two organics turned as they listened.” Here I can not confirm that to be the case. The sequence is too incomplete, merely something with genetic linkage to your race is in the creature’s heredity.”

“Y’all needn’t speak so lightly about…about such a defilement.” Jackson roared turning with morbid disgust and curiosity to stare at the carved up specimen with a cautious eye.” And Y’all will be sure to keep that finding from your common report. Few need to understand that forsaken revelation as I’m sure you reckon.”

In actual truth the droid, far more deeply and correctly than the deep brass voiced commander could even hope to guess at. For through somewhere in his maze of program matrixes and subroutines he joyously envisioned allowing the information to seep out into the enlisted ranks to gauge and watch their reaction he understood the organic’s constant fretful and pointless pursuit of “purity” be it in deeds, appearance or genetic make up. Where as he had been manufactured from parts exactly formed in their appropriate molds and furnaces down to the last millimeter the galaxy’s organics were the product of wild and random mergers of chromosome sets. Fleeting mutations and bit errors rampant in their needlessly complicated and inexact duplication. Where he and all of his family module were identical save for aesthetically pleasing surface coloring, which could easily be changed on a whim, organics diverged greatly even within a closed style nexus. Across larger venues like the breadth of space they strained against the very bonds of classification developing and enhancing randomly created bits of gene-code which across the march of time was dividing them into separate stock.

If he was like that, a sweaty flab of muscle whose very body was in a constant flux of death and renewal whose spawn would be an unstable amalgamation of sequences culled from a baggage that could unknowingly have been corrupted or damaged J05-PH would fear the violation represented by the thing on the table. But thankfully he wasn’t and could enjoy their plight without fear of affliction, just another weakness of the poor pitiable things that called itself “man”.

“Anything else?” Ambrose asked, seeming to take strength from Jackson’s outburst and regain some of the vitality that had been bled from him.” Anything further of use I should say.”

“I-I have much more to share of Dr. Antilles’s work, much more that needs to be shared. These are fascinating creatures even disregarding their extreme dimorphism. Even now the subject’s biosigns are stronger than any human’s, and designed with safeguards against the natural frailties of organic structure. Bone density is fifteen percent higher than other known humanoids, their internal organs appear to be segmented allowing damaged portions to be sealed off without total loss of function as well as a gland sack whose secretions I have noted are adapting and counteracting my sedatives effect.” The droid practically gushed, real excitement seeping through its artificial voice, eagerly about the latest bauble which had enticed its electronic eye.” However the relaying of signals through the nerve-synapses may be the most advantageous, comparable in signal clarity and speed to the connections in my own electronic mind. One with the correct build to exploit such a wondrous nervous system would exceptionally agile and swift.”

His lightspeed like brain flittering over the possibilities that were possible with such a rugged, and durable base source as he spoke of his findings. Inferior to the purity of the metal and wire it boasted itself as superior clay from which to build than what was currently available. Their biosystems would not falter so easily spliced with the immersion of synthetic he envisioned necessary to fulfilling his overarching and core mission programming.

“I’m sure its all fascinating but compile anything battleworth, weak points or disadvantages, for review for the division heads.” Ambrose stated cutting of the machine’s spiel.” At this time we cannot ascertain rather we will face further incursions by these things and we must be prepared.”

“As you wish sir.” J05-PH answered sufficiently compliant through with a hint of disapproval.” To that end, to better understand the creature’s combat potential, I request permission to undertake experimental surgery with our living specimen instead of euthanasia it. Its brains, its nerves, are still active by connecting into them I could monitor them, I could understand more how it is they function and their limits.”

He’d also hoped to cultivate a successful transplant of some of those synapses but wisely chose not to voice that concern. Filling his power core with hope and than feeling it be dashed as Jackson fixed him with dour look and the color flushed through his face as it always did before a particularly energetic occurrence.

“No my steely friend Y’all may not experiment on it nor shall Y’all take the critter’s life. Subcommander Tyler has informed me that we all will transport it over upon returning with the little old Judgment so that it here can be presented to the Commodore for interrogations.” Jackson announced.” I want Y’all to properly secure it for shipment, with whatever drugs and serums you feel needed for it to stay plum unconscious, and await the detachment of little old troopers I’ll be dispatching.”

There was no discussion, no argument. The matter settled and without waiting further the captain turned away to depart followed by Ambrose who reminded the machine to report the injury to Doctor Antilles and for the doctor to give a full evaluation of it as well when he returned to duty.

“Yes sir.” The droid replied well aware by the time Antilles’s duty cycle resumed his work, his improvements if such drastic enhancements of such a inferior model counted merely as improvements, would be finished for his prototype idea and the would see. They would be made to understand. One way or another. Alone once more he returned to the filled bacta tank, humming a small tune stored somewhere inside his database.

[sonofccn]

615 views? A new personal best!!! Ahem...sorry...just got excited. Thank you. Anyway here is another update. A short little talkie again, sorry, but I don't think its too bad. Feel free to say otherwise in the comments.

“ At twelve hundred hours forces of these United States armed forces encountered arthropods which had grown to unusual size due to exposure to Atomic fallout. After conferring with the Major in charge of the expeditionary force, and reviewing aerial photos taken off the “colony” itself I am proud to confirm the complete and total destruction of the insectiod menace.” Excerpt from President’s speech regarding the military incursion in Nevada.

Wraith, Turbolift-

The durasteel laced bulkheads parting Ambrose’s dark, black outline first greeted the Army man dutifully stationed at the elevator’s controls. The young private, looking green and untouched by the harshness of war, pulling into a crisp salute with a snap as he saw whom followed the shadowy specter. Standing a hair straighter and taller, voice filling with the sweet wine of an unsuspected confidence even as he stuttered asked the two passengers in his berth their destination.

At the sounding of the question Ambrose, situated so that he stood both between Jackson and the private as well posed to usurp the lift’s doorway should it be required of him, stiffened in anticipation turning not his face but an eye towards his commander. Hoping to see his features soften, for him to bow his head ever so slightly in accordance to reason but was not surprised when the captain shook his head left to right one hundredth of millimeter. Jackson bowed to nothing, nor would he ever.

“Bridge.” Ambrose ordered in compliance graciously bestowing his full, hard stare into the young man.” With all do haste.”

The order given it was obeyed faster than even the old separatists war droids could have hoped, worthless cold things unable to comprehend the warm glow that obedience to a true commander brought or the tingle of fear. Feeling the slight rush as the turbolift rumbled into motion, the great catapulting through the vast decks of the star destroyer rendered into a mere tremble of movement due to its compensators, the aid turned around to face his master but always keeping between the two other residents of the raising alcove.

“I must apologize for what occurred, in the sickbay.” Ambrose spoke, the reluctance like coarse grains of sand festering between the hinges of his jaw, in a voice he tried to soften but which only sounded more sinister for it.” I should have ensured that your time would not be wasted, personally verified the doctor was present, had not that maniacal droid proved capable…”

“Son, think nothing of it. I can’t expect Y’all to hold yourself guilty of others failings.” Jackson loudly declared with a smile as he let a hand slip down to the hilt of his new found sword.” Antilles, if at all, would be one for my ire. Not Y’all.”

Ambrose did not argue only stiffly nodded as if agreed while inside feeling his soul shrivel just a little, chastising himself for requiring his Lord to make excuses for him. While he did not delude himself in the triviality of the error, at most an inconvenience for the commander, it was something which could not be tolerated. Not when his captain had been weakened, injured on his very bridge by a vagabond intruder that Ambrose had failed to stop. He could only be consoled from that failure by the knowledge he wouldn’t have missed again had Jackson not called him off.

“Besides there be far more important matters to be discussed than that little old thing.” Jackson continued not knowledgeable to what passed through the dark star like confines of his aid’s skull.”Talks of the virgin galaxy we now inhabit, thundering fresh worlds where a man could make a mighty fine attempt should he overcome threats both from asunder and from within.”

“The men aboard would give their lives over for you a thousand times, name it and they would plant your banner at the heart of any star.” Ambrose replied dutifully, the lift operator unable to not overhear adding his heartfelt agreement.

“Men of Soth Thejas and her colonies all, there be no finer. I reckon there be no other group I’d trust so heartily or so readily but tarnations sometimes Y’all enemy doesn’t fight you directly but wiggles beneath like some fool darn serpent.” Jackson answered, face darkening, causing the berth to shiver.” Vigilance my Boy, vigilance. Y’all must be vigilant for these cowardly attacks, or no matter the odds they’ll can reach out for Y’all and…”

The commander finishing his statement by smashing his iron hard fist into his leathery palm, his favored example of total and complete destruction. A personal witness to many of the faces turned to flowing morass by that same fist Ambrose had no choice to agree it was an apt if straightforward analogy. Releasing his fists apart, and returning to his hold over his sheathed sword, the captain continued as the lift reached its destination and the doors slide open. Shifting away to friendly and lighter topics rather than the dark phantasmal he’d spoke of as they stepped off the elevator.

“At your earliest convenience alert the next medical officer on the roster and rouse him to duty, have the old boy report to the bridge on his arrival and leaving.” He commanded as they made their way through the short trip to the bridge and his onyx throne.” As well have him keep a little old eye on that droid. Blasted contraptions, never trusted one. Bucket of bolts just waiting to fail.”

“If you are worried about the machine I could have it taken for maintenance, perhaps have some wires tightened or something.” Ambrose suggested as the commander took his seat.

“No, I reckon that wouldn’t be wise.” Jackson said with a sigh as he partway drew his sword and returned it.” He’s compiling that list Y’all asked him to send to the heads of departments, wouldn’t want to startle the critter until he’s finished. As well I don’t want any old trouble with transferring the beasty to Tyler. He’s a prickly cur when he wants to be, best wait until after to repair that particularly android.”

“As you wish sire.” Ambrose replied nodding his head as he backed away to carry out the commander’s will while from the crew pit Lt. Frailor emerged with a datasheet clutched in one wrinkled hand.

The officer’s uniform wrinkled and in places smudged from the hectic events but with an unmistakable air of dignity and duty that came from a true spacer. One whose blood had been aged and settled in the deep reaches upon one craft or another, purified among the twinkling lights undisturbed or weakened by needlessly atmospheres surrounding coveted worlds.

“What shall be our status Frailor? What will it be?” Jackson demanded of the junior officer who snapped into a tighter posture as he placed his glowing pad behind his back and began to recite the report he’d spent the previous few minutes in the crewpits reciting.

“Still making our heading towards the squadron at sublight, we estimate a short jump can be accomplished within thirty minutes without noticeably depleting our reserves. As well this will allow the repair teams the time they need to finish patching remaining damage to the outer hull and completely decouple the damaged heavy turbolaser. Frailor reported with an unreadable mask for a face.” If you wish for us to make the jump sooner the teams could be recalled in as little as eight minutes but without the adjustments our transition will not be as smooth and may depreciate our dwindled stores further than if we make the jump later.”

“Don’t Y'all look so glum, we can wait a little old longer.” The commander said with a booming laugh much to lieutenant’s relief.” I most assuredly reckon Tyler could stand to learn a true blue lesson from all this, the men of glorious Soth Thejas run to no other beck and call but our own.”

[Admiral Breetai]

The Robo Doctor and the Commander are the craziest and coolest characters here man...

six hundred plus views? congratulations man

[sonofccn]

Okay another short one but its not a Talkie. Basicly felt kinda bad for having the Imperials steal all of Jager's thunder and wanted to show he and the Imperium as a whole may be disadvantage but are not mere babs to trifled with. Hope you enjoy.

“Indubitably I wish to express my full commitment to that turn of phrase that, shall we say, the more brawny of our number so contritely say of being unable to outthink a bullet. Quite, indeed yes, it is a good man who understands his limitations, but not to be too impertinent there is another expression I do so much enjoy sharing with them in turn. It is a sign of character, indeed intelligence, to accept the jeers of his, more cranially challenged, peers and return quip for retort as were. Can not stomach a man who for one want or another fails to return laugh for chuckle, a man who can not laugh at his mistakes is doomed to make more of them. But yes, when those of the more sloped foreheaded persuasion feel entitled to bestow unto me such pearls of wisdom I pithily respond that with prudent foresight and diligent observation of all the actors on the stage as it were one can however position the disagreeable projectile anywhere you so desire eliminating the former requirement entirely. Indeed it is a treat telling them that.” Charles Glutman the fourth in one of his less talkative moods.

New Hope, outside Defiance-


The village of Defiance had lived up to its namesake, swallowing up a milita regiment along with more professional elements who had stood to defend it, when the time came but like countless other hamlets ripped from the Imperium’s flank had been easily bypassed by the nimble thrusts of the Schlange armored columns and pulverized by gunships. Now those gunships with their armor dissolving rockets were cleared from the sky and the shattered remains of the columns cushioned the treads of Jager’s Panther. The colonel riding tall from his tank’s cupola despite the shriek of gunfire through the twisting streamers of soot and smoke billowing up from a gutted troop carrier they sped past. Its sides slagged open spilling the smoldering husks, dried wizened things which broke apart into black smoke when run over, of its passengers out onto the well trodden ground.

More detruis added to the churned and torn ground as Jager, half vanishing down his tank’s hatch to shout at his gunner, directed his slowing tank towards the burned out hollow of a structure he spotted the swift green glimmer of the alien menace enter through its collapsed side. Small arms fire uselessly pelting the war machine sides from there and a broken window as the turret swiveled and the cannon depressed. Aiming at the foundation with the high explosive shell bringing down what remained of the of the emaciated house down atop of the foul creatures, the colonel ordering a second shell afterwards to be sure of it before he had them roll on through.

Once more prominently riding above the lung scorching fumes and stinging embers like some hovering war god diligently scouring every nook and crevice for the lithe infantrymen of the enemy. Almost feeling naked, despite the centimeters of harden steel around him, without a screening of infantry but the unexpected arrival, the sudden upset and reversal all of it had been taxing and the tempo of operations hadn’t yet caught back up. Until then, until the normal flow and rhythm they had so trained for reasserted itself, Jager intended to follow the permanent command of founding saint and first commander of the honored 13th battlegroup General Rommel. Go forward and find something to shoot, refusing to yield initiative either back to the snakemen or fully to the star people. A daunting task with their vast legions and weaponry.

“Watch it!” The colonel cursed, his words relayed to the driver of the whine of the motor-engine, as his beloved Panther came to a lurching stop to avoid colliding with one of the chicken walkers.

The thing itself rising up from behind what once must have been one of the more prominent houses of the village and in the wobbling manner in which its steely legs moved plodded past the halted war machine like a automobile at an intersection. Its commander, protruding from the top like the colonel, looking down at the terrestrial vehicle with a cold grin and snapped a brisk salute at his opposite before his craft carried him towards the outer brick wall of the concentrated little hamlet. The walker’s feet stepping over his kind’s basic infantry and the battered barricade segmented and loosened by the bombings which had taken the village and craning its head down fire a flurry of red bolts from its armaments. Each rivaling the Jager’s main gun blasting huge sprays of scarlet tinted earthen sod as the wriggling mass of Schlange hiding among the landscape and strewn brickwork were explosively dispersed. Entire clumps of flesh and bone vanishing as the dozen plasma plumes rolled across the beasts trying to slither away, viscera taking flight over the gouts of half glazed dirt and stone. The walker’s commander, holding a hand up to shield himself the billowing wisps, looking back across the destroyed village with another, larger smile.

“Good shooting.” Jager said feigning politeness into his radio, aware that several of the star people’s units had been modified to receive their communications, speaking Englander as best he could.” May we send them all back to hell and from the Fatherland.”

“ Just getting some target practice against these Bantha smellers, hardly worth getting worked up about.” A voice dripping crackled in Jager’s ear as the walker swung back around and waddled over the brick divider again.” Go up against T2-B assault tank if you want a real challenge little friend, not the antiquated toys these aliens have.”

“They’ve proved more than formidable for us, just one of their number getting close to you can be fatal.” Jager, reaching a hand out to steady himself as his tank rumbled back into motion, radioed back more poorly hiding his annoyance twisting his head past the moving chicken walker to the horizon and a perceived glimmer of movement.” Once saw one of their number pry open an old Lee killing the crew with only its talons.”

“ Not my sweetheart they don’t, they’d never lay one claw on her durasteel plated cabin.” The walker commander stated confidently, smacking his palm against the side of his hatch in demonstration, oblivious to the hazy contrail which curved at his backside towards him.” Pride of the Imperial army, onboard fusion cell, nigh unlimited munitions and a range hobbled more for need of water than fuel. We are self-contained death on legs, the Empire’s dagger!”

Finishing speaking the commander rapped his hand against the side of his hatch again, clearly enjoying the metallic reverberation of each blow, just as the seeker rocket which had latched onto his profile reached the thinly armored back of the walker. The malicious electrical brain which governed the infernal munition configuring the initial burst into a shaped spray of molten magma that cleared the passage for the remainder of the dart shaped projectile. Vanishing inside the towering war machine whose commander, his confident and smug expression still on his face, tilted his head to gaze past the back of his legs and caught the barest flare of the second and far larger detonation. There was no need for a third, the walker’s cabin splitting open just like countless battle tanks and assault destroyers before it and flying out over the crouched infantry followed by the smoking wisp belching legs as they separated crushing anyone unfortunate to be beneath.

“Stachel! Move, behind cover!” Jager thundered to his crew and over the radio to the benefit of the remaining shellshocked soldiers before detaching his communicator less it attract the lethal weapon’s mate.

The knuckles of his hands white as he tightly gripped the edge of his copula peering past and between the broken shambles of edifices for the slight speck on the horizon which would symbolize the lurking Stinger. His opposite inside the alien craft, if he’d detected the colonel’s low powered emission, likely doing similar with the more detailed spectrum offered by the Schlange. Thankfully Jager’s driver was well versed in the abominations deadly arts, its sensory netting rivaling the alien tanks or even the Bugs’ sensor nodes painstaking assembled by elite craftsmen, and piloted the metallic steed towards a squat but still standing dwelling. Its interior ablaze with the bodies of starmen and the Reptilians stacked inside helping to fuel the flames which would obscure the heat of Jager’s engine the same as the house’s stone wall blocked their telescopic sights.

“Kill the engine!” He commanded from his perch, more alert than ever for infantry slinking out from the burning house or one of the surrounding rubble piles, looking furtively all around the battlefield.” Load arming piercing, and Gunther make the first shot count.”

“The Devil’s Grandmother take me if I miss.” His gunner replied with a grunt slapping the discarding shell into the cannon’s chamber, grimly happy to have a target for his sights that his gun could breech.

“The Devil’s Grandmother after I’m through with you if you don’t kill it.” Jager commanded knowing his mighty Panther couldn’t spur to life and escape before the alien craft’s twin-pronged missile cell could be brought into action.

Assuming it even bothered to advance, in days of old it could just as easily call in a gunship or lanquish protectively behind one of their nigh unkillable battletanks and even now it could move on without engaging or try to flush them out with blind fire. The bombs on the missile sled, when set for full dispersal, still dangerous enough to disable his vaunted war machine and more than able to bring down screening cover.

“Easy there…just a little longer…little longer…” He whispered to himself nervously drumming his fingers against the side of the tank’s hull as he careened his neck and body every which way looking for the deathly quite harbinger.

Spotting several of the starmen, all of the more lightly armored variants, who scampered among the ruins rat like and a few of the serpent-men emerge dazed from under some crumpled shelter but those were quickly taken care of by the former and their energy weapons. But no war machines, no crafts from either side, presented themselves. All was quiet except for the hellish screams of the dying Schlange and the bursts of the starpeople’s innovative plasma projectors. The explosive laden rocket which had so rudely interrupted the battle an aberration, a momentary respite against the relentless tide of the visiters from the stars.

Against the corner of the burning house Jager watched half a squad of infantry sprint forward in ones and twos to a crater pit that had once been a building, forming up on either side of one of crevices through the remaining wall and peering around to the fragmentary interior. When nothing presented itself one of their number stood up into a crouch to move through the fissure nearly vanishing from sight when he popped. A bag of meat, blood and bone rupturing against the explosive shells which snared his gut and chest, dozens of others thrown through the collapsed house wall and into the squad by the familiar whine of the Stinger’s secondary weapon. A turreted rotary cannon equally capable of shredding through armor as infantry ranks as the crimson pool spreading out from the vaporizing landscape testified.

“ Devil’s Grandmother!” Jager cursed along with more potent expressions as he ducked back inside the steel womb of his Panther, ordering his already complying driver back into action.” Come around the side, quickly before that gun finds us!”

The reassuring throbbing hum, rattling his molars, returning as he spoke, his tank snorting itself back to life and setting forward. Its armored side grazing and digging a trough through the side of the building as it sped for the corner ahead of the explosive force careening after them. Drawn by the unique rattle of his Panther’s engine the same way the Colonel knew the whine of their cannon-gun.

The aflame building still shielding them however, shards of disrupted masonry raining like hail against the tank’s hull, as they slipped behind the corner placing the better part of two walls as their divider against it. But the missiles…the alien commander needing only seconds for them to be elevated into position to have their power back at his command less if he’d been prudent.

“Being prudent doesn’t win wars.” Jager said to himself as he hung by the hatch ready to pop back up, wanting to but not crazy enough to think his head could repel fist sized rocks.” Being as crazy as a Mad Marxist does.”

“We’re nearly clear, better take your shot.” Jager’s driver called out in a glum and strangely disinterested tone, as if it all was happening to someone else.

“Everyone telling me my business!” The Gunner complained to his loader as he peered through his tiny viewport and swung the craggy, armored housing to the side as the rumbling war machine all but flew past the edge of the building.

In his sights flashed a murkily pained slooped shaped craft lowly hugging at the ground with a boxy swiveling gray and black “nose” rising up and pair of missile racks unfurling from its rear quarters which had helped bestow its name to it. The rocket cells, as like the rotary nose, turning after its escaping quarry giving the Gunner this one brief glimpse before it remorsely destroyed them. It was all he needed, he knew his business. The tank, slowing for the shot, quivering as the cannon came to life, its muzzle filled with flame as the shell was expelled. A pillar of flame following after the projectile as it flew, splitting open revealing the slender dart which parted through the side of the Stinger like a pebble thrown into a pond. A split second later the entire craft went up, metallic skin bursting open against a geyser of ignited hydrogen and rocket fuel in one energized whoosh.

“ Never tell me my business.” The Gunner boasted proudly to the adulation of his loader and no one else, Jager retaking his perch topside to confirm the destruction and direct them onward.

*

six hundred plus views? congratulations man

Thank you and congrtulations on your own viewership.

[Admiral Breetai]

this is like team fortress in space

freaken awesome

[sonofccn]

Well to try and keep up with Admiral "the machine" Breetai here is my own little update. A few short fragments, mostly talking again through we do get meet a Trader hero. That's got to be worth something right?

“In the last three months I’ve escaped banishment, humiliated the Alliance Security force, stole crippling technology right from under their snouts, humbled the bastion of the imperial capitalists, eliminated my rival Admiral Kracken and secured fortune for our growing new armies. Is there one comparable note, one deed your wretched soul has accomplished, of yours in the last three years?” The Commando’s questioned posed to the head of the Imperium resistance cells shortly before exterminating him.

Judgment, Ready room B-

“… which necessitates we develop contingencies to relieve the projected pressure to our forces.” Tyler continued swiveling slightly with his chair as he gestured to the changed projection with an orbital picture of the landscape surrounding the human settled area with alien concentrations highlighted.

Forming an elongated elastic band it ran around the enclave of humanity forming a porous and uneven perimeter stretching across mountainous hills, suffocating woodlets, marshlands and every other treacherous landscape imaginable the natives had managed to grind them to a halt in. Scattering as if blown by some cosmic wind one corner of the peripheral broke into a thousand separate fragments fearfully running from the stretching formations of calming, reassuring Imperial Blue. The icons dispersing across the ever greater breadth of the front and from each other as some became hobbled clearing some subsector or concentration of dwellings. All but oblivious to the side arms of the slender circle swelling with the surviving refugees of the fortifications and bases the invasions force had smashed asunder. Girdled vises waiting to clench into the soft flanks of the Imperial Army, unless they were destroyed or at least hindered before hand.

It was not particularly astute observation or new the knowledge commonly clear for the last several update cycles but steering the discussion to this inevitable topic had proven more difficult than the subcommander had expected. Rydon whom he’d selected to be his voice of dissident had proven too oily for the appointed task, a mushy toadstool who waited and said his words with too much care. Kresh was infinitely more forceful but cautious of counter crossing the holder of his debts with Tyler holding off directly giving voice to his opinion for wishing not to leave impressions of his touch at so earlier a juncture. Shanulas, the last remaining, was equally useless in this matter and likely was the only one at the table who hadn’t grasped the looming danger, a genius with the abstract and the curious but little more than a babe in the asteroid thicket when it came to more practical matters. So it had taken much coaching and feinting before at least the obvious could be spoken openly.

“That figures but without fleet support its going to be hard to dislodge’em.” Kresh said after a moment, his natural crustiness outweighing his prudence.” The last few sensor reports indicates they are increasing and spreading out their AA-units, as well the two largest concentrations need to be tackled simultaneously or one could come and carve us up. At least that’s what I’d do in the Xenos’ position, drawing as much pressure off of the thrust and limiting the penetration through the lines.”

“Indeed, as I see it there are only three obtainable options. First and easiest would be for us to disengage and pull a Jabiim. Wash ourselves of the entire mess.” Tyler answered with just enough of a laugh to show how seriously the option should be taken.” A more effectual response would be to throw the gauntlet and forgo anymore half measures, dropping stormtrooper filled barges and troop shuttles escorted by fighter squadrons straight down their throats. Pulverize them in one fell swoop without any hope of them retaliating. Simple, direct and I think we could be assured of victory however if Marshal Rydon’s correct in his estimations of the enemy’s air defense we are talking about heavy depletion of our air assets.”

“ I can assure you there hasn’t been any mistake.” Rydon said hurriedly battling away any ghost of incrimination.” Their missile tech is hideously primitive but well designed. Highly robust and accurate with models ranging from deeply buried and protected emplacements to mobile single use carriers.”

Nodding Tyler thanked him for his diligence, and help he didn’t suspect, leaning back in his chair and raising his palms together. Lightly pressing his fingertips against each other as he prepared to continue. The slight moves, the subtle alterations of position, delaying what he had to say long enough to draw even the absorbed Shanulas away from his stack of flimsies and towards the subcommander.

“The last option I can foresee would to fortify our current foothold, hardening our flanks to discourage assault, and preparing staging areas into either “wing” of the enemy spearheaded by AT-ATs. Once we breach through 2-M tanks slip past and run through their interior lines while the big boys, screened by AT-STs, pivot around and punch through the back of their line further down dividing their forces from each other and encircling them with troopers and Armymen.” Tyler suggested with the air, not that anyone noticed, of a serpent rising before a small mammal.” Admittedly certain higher risks in the beginning as we become organized but it promises to deliver us the security of our soft sides without the horrifying loss of man and material a hard drop would be. Thoughts?”

He addressed it for all but knew without a cautionary thought that Shanulas would only object if he thought the laws of physics might have been altered, returning to what he thought was his secret study of the unknown object out in the asteroid field all thoughts of the discussion and indeed the meeting itself fleeting and forgotten. Rydon was equally tipped lipped, as much as a man who’s principal characteristic was pond scum could at any rate, glancing in furtive motions to the scientist on one side and the junior military officer on the other to try and gauge what they would say. So again, as always, it fell upon the same shoulders to continue the intricate motions Tyler charted and once again the subcommander knew he had chosen well.

“A bit ambitious, you’d have to run the ‘ATs quite a ways to make the snare useful.” Kresh started eyeing Tyler with an uncertain look in his eyes hoping he’d understand the initial pretense he would have to provide, the officer not as inept with power play and circles of power as the subcommander had initially thought he mentally recorded for future analyze.” Still it has the flair of Veers, those bold powerful moves. It would crush them in place, pulverize their entrenched lines and even if they encirclement fails to live up we’d have the soft innards of their formations to appease our wraith on. All in all I think it could be manageable if the right officers are selected to lead it.”

Hearing the old warrior’s support and seeing the minimal, prideful expression of being validated that Tyler allowed be shown on his face Rydon’s protest of his forces being sidelined for the greater glory of mudwalkers died unspoken. The words clear enough for the subcommander as he studied the man’s moist face, clearer than the Marshal’s chosen with care endorsement which was curtailed on the onset by the chirping of the com system. Instantly straightening and sitting to his maximum height, for only one would dare to intrude this private and secluded meeting, Tyler jabbed at a tabletop button and the hologram of the world below vanished into the ether replaced with that of Krevin. His face smeared with blood and pale from the exertion which covered his exposed flesh in an oily sheen through he appeared uninjured.

In the background, caught partially in the holoemitters field of vision, a less fortunate stormtrooper sat bear chested much of one arm being lathered beneath bandages. His face paler and more drawn then the Commodore’s and his few movements heavy and slowed by the effects of the drugs he’d been injected with to ease his pain.

“Sir, what happened? Who attacked you? The natives?” Tyler queried fingers clutching at his chair’s armrests as he leaned in close to the flickering confinement of light to hear the slightest whisper.” Do you require additional support, bombardment? I have shuttles and fighters on stand by should you wish it.”

“No. I am fine. Everything…everything is workable.” Krevin sighed sounding unsure of what he truly wanted, perhaps merely reassurance the Judgment still waited for him and his command.” Have the buds of an arrangement with the locals, trust us enough now for others to come work out finer details, but encountered first hand the Xenos they’ve been fighting. It was…a unique experience.”

“As you will sir, are you sure you don’t wish for further reinforcements? To protect against further…incompetence of the locals in screening the aliens from your presence?” Tyler asked a white knuckled hand slipping to the control board to order one of the shuttles off.

“No, I’m inbound with the Judgment. Intercept is…five minutes according to my sensors.” The Commodore said muscles in his face starting to laxing and color returning.” You didn’t really think I’d let you command my ship all day did you? I’m gone for a few hours and you already had to fight off some alien vanguard, if I dally any longer I might end up the Commodore of a moon-shuttle.”

Krevin laughed as he spoke, clear nervous laughter releasing what he couldn’t before from what he had experienced and Tyler joined in. As in days not long submerged in history replying with own barbed reply, playfully insinuating that the crew preferred his leadership and all the action he brought rather than the dour conformity that Krevin specialized in. It was fun, and neither man realized how he missed it until they’d both stopped laughing and the various problems both faced remained undiminished.

“What can I say, the command chair is the most powerful addictive in the known or unknown galaxy. I know I miss it and I haven’t been away a day. I trust you’ve kept it warm for me through.” Krevin said as the laugher subsided.” Judgment in sight, preparing to dock. See you on the bridge unless you’ve arranged for another heroic clash with alien armadas.”

“None are on the schedule, but we’ll see. You know Xenos, always turning up at the worst moment.” The subcommander replied standing up, as did the others, as the hologram winked out and with his stony face returning ushered all of them out.

New Hope, Administrative building-

A few soldiers delicately stepped through the slippery peak of the dead cautiously attempting to pick out those of their own number who still despite all odds lived and identify those dead they could. The rest to be taken to the faceless hero’s entombment to be disposed off. The General alone bothered with a clearly inhuman corpse pushing over the serpent-man’s body over and tapping the tip of his sword against the beast’s armored covered chest. Scraping at it getting a judge for its quality before cutting through the bindings of the webbing the creature used in place of pouches, freeing a few strands of the synthetic fibers which he took in his hands and rubbed between his fingers before letting the material blow away. Moving onto its face and its bullet shattered eyes which with the use of his sword he help twist to both sides and back again as he studied it with a intense eye, judging the width of its fangs and their placement and the pattern of scales. Taking note of for the first time since its arrival of the exact shading of green they were and the thickness of one after he pried it loose from the thing’s flesh.

Behind him he heard the limping step of the idiotic Major as well as the vibrant cascade of the pair of young riflemen he had flanking him. The three stopping shortly behind him, their eyes burning at his back, waiting for his response. His acknowledgment of their presence, his fear of their uniforms.

“Fascinating isn’t it. I must have killed tens of dozens of Venusians in my day but never one with such polymers, or alloys. And that gun…crafted perfectly for a being of its stature and bulk. A far cry from the crude black powder designs I saw employed last spring.” The General said coldly tossing the scale back into the monster’s chest.” A wondrous advancement I’m sure you agree must be shared the Xenological board of inquiry, the Exotechnological institute, and of course the Agency.”

“I must protest, these are state and security secrets you blatantly probe putting others at risk for your senseless curiosity. I would think now most of all you would understand that we are not crippled refugees for you to push around. We are men, masters of our destiny with the tools and abilities to shape it.” The shortish Major grunted in reply, every word sounding like he was chewing it.” What happens here is our concern not yours, not the Agency or anyone else’s.”

“It is not your ability I doubt but your will my little friend.” The General replied at last turning to face the belligerent officer.” If you’d dare shoot me you’d have done it the moment I asked to see the Starmen. You see I know a secret, you are not nearly as stupid as you pretend to be and you know you can’t trust these newcomers anymore than the Poles could trust you against the Soviet menace. So please, I tire easily of threats which can never be carried out.”

Sheathing his sword he brushed past the SS officer and his cronies leaving his mouth hanging open unsure of how to respond. A few feeble words of no consequence falling from it as he turned after the Security Agent but the General paid them little attention. Already thinking about the report he would file, after the long voyage board the sole freighter which plied from New Hope to Earth, to the Agency and wondered deep down beneath his will and endurance where it wouldn’t show what exactly the Alliance could do about these newcomers.

“Probably get the Yanks to act reasonably for once.” He thought to himself as he strolled indifferently through the ranks of the dead, save for where some bit of gore transferred to his polished shoes.” If that is even possible.”

Judgment, Hanger Bay-

Waiting until the sole wounded stormtrooper was loaded off on a hovering stretcher, aware of how opinion in the rank and file could prove beneficial, Krevin descended down the ramp behind flanked by his remaining bodyguards. Ignorant in his haste for the brief respite of his quarters and change of clothes before returning to his beloved bridge of how the excess stormtroopers snapped into line on either side of him or how the various hanger workers and technicians stood and saluted the arrival of their leader.

Excited whispers floating between them about the Commodore as he vanished from sight, none more excited than Private Kenly on his stretcher who reached up and grabbed hold through his drug induced delirium one of the arms helping to transport him to sickbay. Pride flowing from his voice as he described the horrible debacle which had befallen them outside the capitol building, and how Krevin had saved him.

“I locked up…just froze when I saw it…I thought I was a goner when I felt the first sting of the projectile pierce me but, thank the Emperor’s ghost, he didn’t. Without hesitation or thought to his own safety he grabbed and pulled me down from the vile thing’s fire. Dragged me to safety.” Kenly murmured slipping between the fabric of reality and the dreamland but never ceasing his speech.” His only concern being my well being, when I tried to speak, try to see if he’d been injured recklessly saving my own life his first instinct was to warn me and when the Xeno came attracted to the noise he threw me out of its wraith and drew it upon himself. Never flinching as he slew it…I tell you…it was a sight…quite a sight.”

His voice slurring and fading as he fell back into exhausted sleep but his words lived on, fresh on the two men carrying him spreading from them to those they passed. Jumping from person to person almost like a contaminate across the ship with lightspeed so that by the time Krevin had changed into clean uniform and resumed command upon the Judgment the thread of his “great” deed down on New Hope had already been crafted and persons outside his control were already weaving it to their own ends.

Krona, Deniero

The specially modified Hopper, extra wreaths of titanium mesh in exchange for fewer armaments and slower top speed, darted nimbly through the Trade-World Krona’s early morning air towards the assaulted city of Deniero. The craft’s underside rippling with the wave like disturbance of the contra-drive which propelled it from the planetary surface and reflecting the orange back wash of the down angled stubby wings alit with the duel engine system which allowed it to operate equally well at stratospheric altitudes as well as ground scrapping.

Inside Numero Uno squad waited within with tensed breath kneeling down onto the stock of their pulse rifles, their targeters raised free of their faces as they listened to the recitations the elder among them spoke. Reading from a dried, leather book clutched in one wrinkled hand as opposed to a digital reader each one of the soldiers carried alongside their gear, the pages permutated with immense age dating back to the founding of the Krona mining colony.

Uno squad waiting it that way, somehow more fitting, more real than if the prayer had been delivered from crisp, black and white lettering on a tinted screen like so much gossip trash. A solid and manifest link to the past and the great order they now sallied forth to defend. Only one of their number refusing or not wishing to kneel before the oration, First Atune Killgore the core Uno squad was formed around chose instead to stand by one of the transparent slots in the bulkhead. Gazing a face artistically weathered and worn by the fangs of war out onto the approaching city, the magnificent towers already ablaze filling the heavens above with soot. As he watched a segment on one silver and purple spire exploded outward, deliberate sabotage or freak accident none would ever know, and the top half heaved groundward what remained at the explosions buckling from the stress and adding to the debris raining down on the souls below both guilty and innocent. Watching the tower half collide with the ground, only his eyes flinching as he saw the ground contract and then vomit up geysers of silt and wreckage which plumed out sealing from sight part of the landscape like a giant hand.

“Hold it! Hold it! Just hold it one grotting minute.” Killgore’s representative, a diminutive if high spirited man, exclaimed pushing his way out from behind the kneeling soldiers who looked on in annoyance and the still speaking preacher who ignored him.” Killgore, baby, sweetheart I love you, hundred percent but your killing me. Your in the way of cam-drones again.”

The flair driven man, the sense feelers around his face wiggling like made, gesturing to the three ball shaped machines hovering around the up right soldier on tiny, whirling propellers. Each sported extendable multi-faceted lenses of the finest quality capturing in flawless definition, and 3-D for additional costs, of the celebrated hero’s exploits. Making his point the agent continued, talking to his client in the rapid fire manner which had first landed the rising celebrity into his stable.

“Look its bad enough that because of a little thing like AA-Defense they’re making us fly at this uncinematic height, believe me I fought for you if I had my way we’d be so close to the buggers you could count their teeth but some general thought that was too “risky” like he knows show business, but when we get such a breathtaking view and you go and step in the way I mean work with me. We have to shoot over your friends fearful for their immortal soul like this is their first drop or something…” He exclaimed pausing, for a rare moment considering what he said, and looking over his shoulder to the armed men who glared at him and the preacher who had fallen silent with a less than friendly look his own self.” Nothing against the cloth or anything of course, I’ve given generously to several fine such establishments for the tax write offs, but it ruins the emotion of the shot. The sucker punch to the gut so to speak when we have hymns being recited in the background. We’re thinking of going more with a more vocal background, a send up of maybe some tragic opera from a century or so ago. People eat that stuff up.”

“Sammus…I’m…starting to have doubts about all this. The Cam-droids I mean. They get in the way in the best of times and well…this isn’t just me tangling with a Brood-ship or boarding a Vraen derelict. There are people down there, innocent people, at risk.” Killgore said unable to look his agent in the eye as he said those words.

The response was as he expected first a quiet gape as his manager, no doubt trembling, processed what was said and than the eruption. A tidal wave of force and energy which washed over the First Atune nearly drowning him beneath its intensity.

“Second doubts? Second doubts Killgore, now of all times. Who put you up to this? Is it Marvuleous, its him isn’t it? Whatever he’s bribing you I’ll triple it. Please baby, amigo, buddy. We’re friends, practically family, haven’t I always treated you well? You want me to beg, I’ll beg. I’m not too proud, please I need you. I have an aunt, yeah an aunt, whose very sick. Needs an operation or ten, you can’t turn her out can you? Not aunt Mira? Okay I’ll quadruple whatever Marvuleous is paying you but that is only because I respect you so much as a person. Did I mention I’ve been needing a…brain transplant lately cough yeah I need it bad now.” Sammus sobbed as only he could in full view and without care of what the others thought.

”Its not that, I swear. I’d never do anything to betray you Sammus, you’ve been loyal to me.” The First Atune said quickly trying to salvage what remained of his agent’s dignity before he did anything else.” It’s just that…I don’t think I can do my duty with these things floating after me. I can’t do my commitment to my world, or my squad.”

“Oh…is that all?” His manager said suddenly calm and standing up again, dabbing away the last remaining tears with a embroidery towel.” Duty? Commitment? It is your duty to be recorded. The people deserve to now First Atune Killgore is fighting to protect them, battling whatever horrors of the universe. They need to know they are secure and safe in their homestead because of your vigilance, you wouldn’t take that way from them. Hard, honest working folk whose only pleasure is watching your escapades, are you made of stone? Would you deny grandparents their peace of mind, would you? Of course not. And Commitment, every ten issues of Killgore Chronicles comics we sell military donations increases by point five percent. Every new screening of one of your missions another two percent. And we are not even getting into how many young boys who buy your action figure, drink your soft drink and belong to your secret club grow up to join the Defender ranks. If anything it is your solemn duty to demand five Cam-drones so that we don’t miss anything juicy.”

“I have a secret club now?” Killgore asked turning to his agent with a puzzled expression.

“Yeah, yeah for a mere twenty-five centi-creds they are entitled a ring, junior Defender uniform and personal correspondence sworn written by you that I have my brother fill out. They love it, get a thousand commissions per day, but that isn’t the important thing right now. What is important is are you going to disappoint those little kids? They look up to you, we all do.” Sammus said brushing the matter aside.

“I guess not if its for the k-“ Killgore started before being interrupted by his manager.

“Good, perfect. Use that, we’ll keep it. A little editing to remove me, throw in a Vraen bomber or three, maybe digitally insert you stabbing something and we’re golden.” He babbled excitedly gesturing all around until one of the other Defenders stood up, walked behind him and pressed a silver rod he removed from a pouch on his uniform.

The agent’s body going rigid as the voltage coursed through it, his face contorting into a cavalcade of hilarious expressions before he jutted out his tongue, twisted his eyes cross and collapsed to the ground. Eightth Atune Lorthe, returning the stunner to its pouch, nudging him with his boot tip to ensure he’d remain unconscious. The little man had over the years built up quite an immunity to the electro-staff.

“Well that should hopefully keep him sedate, at least until we get to the dropzone and can have some real peace.” He answered, wiggling his sensing tendrils in a jovial motion, before returning to his abandoned place beside the preacher who resumed.

The hopper continuing on its way, passing over the burning landscape far below, towards the heart of the city and the greatest concentration of the invaders. Shot down hoppers and other less fortunate Defenders visible as they fought against the tide, sometimes victoriously sometimes vanishing beneath never to return. Killgore and his team soon to join them and try to do the impossible. To repulse an attack by a saucer ship.

[sonofccn]

Okay this isn't meant to be a talkie( i know that's a relief right?) but the first part of some good old fashion death and glory combat scenes. As always tell me if its works or if it goes off.

“ First squad secured the site, first confirmation it had been a temple. Second squad was sent to relieve them…that was when the first symptoms were reported. Fracking aliens spores growing in their blood, growing together…weaving tendrils through them…through their muscles, bones…very souls…can hear them now…screaming for me not to let them in even as they’re puppeted to smash themselves against the hull. Too late…fracking spores…going to lift off, torch’em…give them rest…lift off and crack open the seals, let the air in. Hope message is received…will loop broadcast…don’t go down…don’t go down…” Colonel Ryker’s final message from uncharted or named world P-109347

New Hope, Fatherland Memorial Forest-

“Feth me!” Corporal Jek screamed as the old army issue Multi-Troop Transport bucked like a startled bantha and he was thrown against the crisscrossing fabric restraints which glued him to his plastic molded chair.

Restraints which for him and several other of the odd forty man team squeezed into the old rust bucket split apart releasing them freely as the transport lurched to one side and tumbled. Jek striking freely against them and the unshielded edges of the craft quickly and cheaply made viable for organic crewmen, reliving fragmentary glimpses of what had lead him to this. A fleeting image of he and his platoon going down in a barge, nervous and sweating beneath their uniforms and helmets but not wishing to so it shooting past his vison. Talking loudly of disapproval for being dropped into a “secured” LZ, grumbling about guarding logistic trains and digging latrines while inwardly each praying their preferred deity of avoiding what was imperfectly observed by them through the scattered communications from the surface. Like a mist that memory coiled around him and dissipated replaced by a brief haunting of Jek on the planet’s surface, his first sight of the hideous aliens. It had been dead, photogenicly mounted by a fellow army soldier with initiative and for a few measly credits he was allowing holos to made with you and it. Jek had taken him on his officer, through turning green with he with a nasty smile propped the thing’s arm over his shoulder to “add to it”.

Mentally recoiling at the unfathomable uncleanness being so closed to the dead specimen had brought Jek banished the thought away, departing no sooner than a third equally unpleasant one stealing its perch. The corporal’s belly tightening even before the crude hut like headquarters had even fully materialized. He, like the rest of his unit, listening with dead ears and staring with empty eyes at the ghostly blue form projected from the emitter in the center of the otherwise low tech dwelling, A bored mid level officer informing them of a change of orders. Of a stormtrooper spear tip in danger of buckling, requiring the additional bracing of their support. Forcing them and other units to be lead onto the transports, led into like animal fodder and dispatched from the safety of the interior to the wilds of the frontier.

Here the train of memories derailed completely for Jek, sinking from consciousness by their own torpid weight, patterns of light and darkness coalescing into the stark and imposing helmet of a stormtrooper as he bent over the corporal.

“This one’s still alive.” He grunted to a compatriot, busy shifting through his own pile of bodies, lifting Jek up off the ground without further warning and draping him over his scuffed shoulder armor.” You?”

“I have nothing.” The second one announced releasing an army man whose neck rolled loosely at its base to the transports floor which the corporal belatedly noticed was traced with bluish-orange flames.” Fething thermals are so deep-sixed a full grown Wampa could be hiding in here and we’d never know.”

With obvious disgust the second trooper continued to dig through the remains, unconsciously flinching as the growing fire crept in his way greedily gobbling up the sweaty globs of fats and combustibles that was the human body, while Jek struggled with a mind still reeling through swirling fogs to understand his colorful descriptor. Born and raised on a habited moon coreworld he’d was disgustingly ignorant of the immense fauna of the galaxy, many of his fellows having prodded him for mistaking the first time he’d seen a Rancor in a questionable arena pit for being an engineered bio-organism. He was still pondering what exactly the stormtrooper could have meant, imaging from its associating with their helmet’s thermal sensors it was some form of extremely warm creature possibly fire breathing, but his wild and needless tangent was interrupted by the muffled voice crackling from both stormtroopers’ helmets.

“Disengage retrieval and book it.” Snarled a voice like audible cutting lasers.” Specs has the fuel cell reaching critical temperatures. Disengage to a safe distance.”

“We only have one survivor in our possession, search incomplete. Requesting permission…” The second trooper ventured to the bristling of his comrade holding the corporal aloft.

“Get your asteroid in gear KT-4019 or I will come in and do it for you.” The voice snapped back.” Y-4848 you have full authority to plant your heel to his backside until he does so.”

“Understood, come on ’19 Gunny already sounds made enough to chew durasteel.” The one carrying Jek responded turning around, giving the corporal a blurred pan of the interior of the burning transport, and bolting through the jagged edge blast hole ripped through the side of the armored war machine.

The second trooper following an instant later, tongues of fire licking at his insulated armor, leapfrogging alongside of them between blacken husks of trees long since burned to stubs by some previous scourge. Jek could only see stray patches of it however as his carrier dodged briskly between the skeletal like remains, dangling off of the armored dreadnought’s shoulder he was treated most to his burning transport laying half buried into the ground with smoke pouring out of the blast hole carved across its side. A mute, bewildered witness to the craft going up in a dirty fireball whoosh as the fuel cells exceeded their safety temperature, twisting his head away and squinting his eyes shut away from the sudden burst of light and finger sized slices of durasteel kicked off which would have cut him as surely as a lightsaber.

Afterward the corporal concluded he must have slipped away again because when he opened his eyes he was on his back feeling every jagged rock and splinter cut into him staring up through the bared, blistered tree limbs to the hazy, smoky sky. Almost peaceful, despite the noise of gunfire and explosions his awakening mind had yet to full process, that is until the cyborg leaned over his field of vision and thrusted a hand down towards him.

For a terrifying moment Jek tried to convince himself it was only a droid, a dingy gray plated droid with glowing blue eyes and a wedged shaped facial plate obscured the its jaw, but a look at the mottled flesh between the craggy mouth guard and the metal visage surrounding the eyes betraying that becalming impulse and the corporal was instantly filled with the unnatural wrongness such forsaken bewitchings of man and machine induced. Batting the white gloved hand away with a small yelp he launched himself away from the abomination, digging a hand into the dead, lifeless soil as he twisted about pushing himself up to his knees and then his feet right before he slammed into a white stained wall.

Threatening to lose his grip on reality for the third time that day Jek fell backwards onto his haunches staring up at the laughing trooper who stood with his Z-6 blaster cannon posed up resting against his plated shoulder. The two who had rescued him, identified by various cuts and marks in their armor, stood behind the laughing one equally pleased with the army man’s reaction, more so at Jek’s expression as he felt the cyborg wrap an arm around his waist and haul him to his feet.

“Easy there kid, just trying to give you hand.” The machine-man said, eyes smiling, the voice coming from a tiny speaker embedded in his throat beside the winding clear tube the filtrated air he breathed traversed.” I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Got him moving didn’t it Specs?” The one with the blaster cannon asked in a rough voice which unmistakably marked him as Gunny, stepping towards the corporal and turning him around breaking the contact he’d unthinkingly held with the cyborg.

Once they were facing the squad leader deftly looked the soldier up and down, lightly striking him with the hard edge of a finger in places as one might inspecting a prize labor animal, condensing the normal recruitment procedure to a few terse moments.

“Your little short for a stormtrooper, but I think you’ll do.” He growled in appreciation when he’d finished.” Your name son?”

“Jek sir…corporal Jek of the 135th light division from Aboreia.” He answered back quickly only to be corrected by the cyborg as Gunny turned away and ordered ’19 to retrieve a weapon for their new addition.

“You are corporal Jek of assault squad Valor now. Welcome to the Gauntlet.” Specs announced with as must obvious faux cheer as his vocalizer would allow as he clasped him on the shoulder.” Best of luck.”

Dimly realizing he’d just been drafted into a stormtrooper unit Jek started to stutter a reply, in truth of unsure what he wanted to say besides screaming no and running, as he accepted a blaster carbine taken from a stormtrooper who despite his armor being cut open and field work performed had perished from the gory perforation clean through his chest. Others laid on the cracked and burnt ground equally dismembered and burned, enough for a squad when added to his four new “friends”, making his speech even more hurried and unintelligible until Gunny broke it off with his turbolaser like voice of his.

“Okay, play times over. Specs stop scaring the new guy and get your helmet on and get those electronic peeps of yours on the scanner, ’48 your first up, ’19 you got the new guy try and keep him from dying too quickly. We might need him.” He ordered lowering his weapon and giving the multi-barreled end a spin.” Well, are we waiting for an invite? They don’t pay us by the hour, drop it in gear and move!”

Too stunned to protest against such a gale Jek meekly nodded and stepped into line with sour dispositioned ’19 who pushed a little harder than he needed when he forced the corporal into a crouch by a tree taking a perch opposite it. Moving only after ’48 had made his sweep and cleared it with Gunny and Specs following in rear sending out invisible feelers through the surrounding countryside, cautiously creeping through the dead forest that was he quickly discovered quite alive with other things. Native soldiers their faces rubbed with charcoal dust and dried twigs draped over their body spontaneously growing from the blacken earth to rush about along with Imperial soldiers and troopers as well as the greenish blurs that emerged from concealed burrows to down them in gauzy streamers of crimson and scarlet. Blasters and slug throwers hurling symphonies at each other as the corporal’s new found unit guided him across towards their destination, a brackish river forever tainted by the firestorm and the chemical agents which had spawned it littered on either side and in its stagnate embrace with the bodies and wreckage of the opposing forces.

As they approached a pair of speed bikes jetted across trailing a set of durasteel lines in their wake, one unspooling the rest of the cable off of his vehicle once they made it across hopping down onto the dead soil to hammer it in with a securing bolt. Only getting his secure and going for his partner’s before machinegun fire erupted from the shriveled and dried husk of a shrub cutting him as well as his lax vigilant compatriot apart. The dead avenged as the fire scarred bush and the gunner lurking within vanished in a puff of vaporized top soil from a hover-tank’s high yield laser bolt. Its hull weighted down by the soldiers and natives who leapt upon it on its passing the old TX-130 made its own crossing while firing in a neat and even spread ahead of it clearing a path through the lifeless wilderness.

In retaliation to the destruction from deeper in the woods rose the red glint of a rocket-shell which curved up through the air and than downward until it was directly overhead of the imperial position. Its electronic mind triggering the controlled demolitions which split open it’s housing allowing its deadly offspring to unfurl and seek their quarry. Ten whistling warheads which cut through the thick hides of transports crashing through the trees, disintegrated the lighter armored AT-ST’s and ruptured the rearward portion of the racing tank. Its repulsorlifts dying a sudden death from the devastated power systems as gravity resumed its hideous hold and the heavy war machine tumbled crashing its corner into the muddy bank and flipped crushing several of whom clutched to its armored bulk and slinging the rest like dolls.

More following, by hover-field, by rope, by wading, they continued across while behind natives manning crude motor pits worked without rest or pause trying to soften the beachhead. Despite their efforts the hardy green serpents ensured the numbers recklessly fighting on the far side of the muddy banks never rose too high.

Navigating them between the streams of leaden death which caused those moving about the shore who straggled or stood too straight twitch and fall to the ground bleeding from jagged edged wounds ’48 took them to an indentation dug into the black sod and surrounded by the plentiful dead timbers where a man in the armor of a stormtrooper hunched over a large digital tablet on a grav-table with his junior officers detailing and struggling to make sense of their ongoing offensive. His helmet removed and resting at hand’s reach on the floating table allowing his skin to breath and unobstructed view of the shifting and churning map. His leathery scalp shaved bare with religious attention revealing the web of scars which ran over his skull and down his neck to his worn body and informing Jek even before the man turned around at their arrival of his ancestry rooted in the Clone Wars and the bounty hunter that which was his progenitor.

“The Emperor feth him to purgatory I need those canons brought forward, forget the aliens I’ll have his jor’blocks if he…” Acting commander of the south-western spearhead said turning with the caged reactions of a arena trained Reek he regarded ’48 thoughtfully for a moment before the squad leader made his appearance known and at once all hostility drained from the commander’s face.

“Gunny! They haven’t managed to kill you yet?” He exclaimed in a gush of humanity his aids had seldom seen in the man as he advanced towards his friend who removed his own helmet with one hand.

“ Somebody has to stick around see to the Emperor’s will.” Answered a face almost identical but with a short professional buzz cut instead of being shaved and far more scar tissue collected along side his throat, face darkening as his double clasped his arms around him in an enthusiastic hug.” Still as emotional as ever I see Smiley, its good they let your retire to a soft commission. Why they’d ever choose you over me I’ll never understand however.”

“Likely the number of friendly fire accidents involving your immediate superiors, those things look bad in your dossier I’ve began to understand.” The clone commander said grinning wildly as he broke contact with his fellow and returned towards the table gesturing for Gunny to follow.” Anyway praise the Emperor you made it with your hide intact, those blasted Xenos are ripping my assault parties to ribbons, I think we need someone to show them the old Imperial standard.”

“I despise idiocy.” Gunny, returning his helmet on, remarked catching a look from Jek as he approached the map, up to the moment icons aglow on its surface as the battle continued.” Not my fault if a fat, inbreed Lieutenant born with a silver spoon can’t spot a thermal mine with a little camo-netting.”

The acting commander, himself adorned with Lt sigils, smiling wider at his friend’s remark as both of them bent over the map, he pointing out certain features and the squad leader nodding and adding his insight. The years melting away for the two, the alien threat, the new galaxy even the Empire all dissolved away to a different time and a different place. A realm where a million souls sang out in one voice, where they had knelt whispering and laughing as true equals as they prepared the destruction of their soulless, metal enemies. A simpler and more serene time, when the Grand Army had been pure and professional and not diluted or hamstrung by supporting legions little better than militia. Gunner almost feeling sad when he jabbed a forefinger at a particular segment of the river of death, the opposing edge to where the river in earlier more chaotic days had eaten into the shore creating a smooth sloped once the polluted waters had receded to their current shallow depths. The long deceased currents carrying away the troublesome trees and underbrush residue which so plagued the bloody banks and with the height advantage of the undissolved side offered peerless fields of fire.

“I will give you your opening here. Renew your assault at these two points to draw them away while we set up and then…” Gunny said tapping each corner of the displayed map.

“You drive like a spike through their chest. A little blatant and straightforward but unlike most you will get it finished. Assemble what you need to make a bloody hole in their line and try not to get yourself killed in the process. We’ll have a lot more to push against once we get across and I’d like a trooper or two who can shoot straight.”

“Smiley if the entire Clanker army couldn’t stop me why would a few oversized lizards with popguns?” Gunny answered with one of his laughs as he turned to address his men.” Besides who’d save your rump from the laser torch if I wasn’t there?”
***
“Why don’t we have a Tie strafe’em?” Jek grunted as he helped haul the mortar pieces up the crag in reference to another rocket-shell were broke open with fatal results to infantry and nearby armored vehicles.

“Judgment only has so many fighters ready to deploy and there are likely thousands of targets being called in at any moment. Maybe hundreds for the three prongs of this glorious attack to dislodge the aliens from their perch.” ’48 remarked from his prone position at the edge noting the slight ripples of movement he saw on the other bank.” Wouldn’t matter regardless, those are mobile guns and they only stay still long enough to lob a shot off or two. Short of dropping off a proton bomb and clearing this entire forest out there isn’t much they’d be able to do anyway.”

The corporal initially bristled at the harsher than normal tone of ’48 but deduced the stormtrooper hadn’t meant anything by it, merely numbness and acceptance. The fates of war frowned as well as smiled and he had no energy or time to spare arguing against it. Jek however was of a different matter entirely and as he helped hold up the simplistic firing tube with one native another encircled around affixing the leg braces he thought about the stormtrooper’s answer and what was to come.

“Do you think about it?” He asked wetting his lips with his tongue, shifting the knees he laid on in the soil trying not to imagine what it would feel like for a slugthrower to pierce through the back of his skull.

“Think about what? Air strikes we don’t have? Not really.” ’48 said with a laugh, his voice smiling as his weapon tracked the scaly head of a serpent which rose up off the ground as it slithered on its way, tracked but did not fire.” I normally try and stay more positive than that.”

“I mean what we are about to do. About what they will do to us. I mean…” Jek said pausing, his mouth suddenly seeming dry as he fumbled for what he was trying to say.”… I don’t know about you but I wasn’t Army material. I was majoring in artistic studies back on Aboreia before I donned the uniform, never even fired a blaster until boot camp. I have never fired it in anger, never even saw an alien but for a few civilians at a garrison once and they were friendly. Now this…all of this…I guess I just want to know what’s going through your head. How you are handling this because this isn’t me.”

“What am I thinking? I guess I’m thinking if we fail to pierce through here or if we fail to keep up pressure against them these feth drinking Xenos will be able to regroup and turn towards either the center or the south-east spearhead keeping these scaly suckers boxed in and a lot of our battle-brothers will have carried out their last command.” ’48 said with a shrug of his shoulders.” I really don’t think about it in any solid way, it’s a job. I’ll do it until they die or I do, no more no less.”

It felt quiet after he finished speaking through the roar of munitions and the screams of both sides death screeches didn’t cease. The corporal not sure it was respect he felt or pity as he stared at the prone stormtrooper, the way he moved his gun from target to target. Laying submerged in the ash filled dirt and lathered with grime he saw them and seared their locations into his memory, the motions he would need to perform encoding themselves into his muscle. A battledroid made of skin and muscle, maybe not even that inside his muddy white armor he looked mechanical. Just another cog in the war, another part.

The natives finishing assembling the mortar, babbling to each other in their native tongue, Jek sent them scurrying back to retrieve the boxes needed to feed the forever hungry weapon. Intending to follow until ’48 spoke again, the fugue in his tone lifting in place for curiosity and for the first, for one solitary moment the stormtrooper sounded not like some eldritch utensil of war like his blaster rifle but as a man not too much older than Jek himself. The sort he’d seen around campus practicing with their teammates before the big game, organizing a Sabbacc tournament for the weekend, and countless else as they enjoyed life fully.

“Art student? Back in my crèche we used to jam their heads into the lavatory units…why did you join up? Hard luck case? Maybe a general draft?” The trooper inquired mulling the quandary over in his head, eyes never leaving the battlefield and his targets.

“Not exactly…I joined…well I guess for the same reason I majored in Art. See there was this girl, woman, with a face that could lift a thousand bulk cruisers…I still remember where I was when I first saw her…saw that smile…I felt…I felt like the Emperor when she was by my side…better even because I knew for all his power he never could get such a…goddess to love him. Not truthfully.” Jek said slowly as sugary memories of his previous life flowed past his eyes in a confectious stream.” Unfortunately neither could I…she broke up with me for some jock with more teeth than brain cells…very publicly…and humiliatingly…I went to a little cantina I used to know to order a bottle to get over her…ordered another…and another…well she woke up the next morning shaved bald and I woke up on a freighter on way to a freezing ice-ball of a moon for basic training. I don’t know which one of us got the worse deal.”

“ Well you got to see the galaxy didn’t you? What did she get?” ’48 said with a chuckle as his radio buzzed killing his joy, the scope on his weapon snapping up with the press of the release which he leaned against and peered through.” Gunny’s nearly ready, get that gun firing.”

His command punctuated by the sizzling hiss of a highly focused blaster bolt, across the polluted stream as Viper’s head combusted out the side in a spray of ignited flakes. His comrades to either side, crouched low in their dug pits inside the slope, not even finishing traversing their heads towards him before they joined the snake’s fate. Two more going up, their bodies sagging forward across the slick and water worn sod into the dank and foul water with muffled splashes, as a third hissed a warning followed by with the death of one whose head poked its head up from where the ground evened out.

From there guns sprouted like metallic flowers from the forsaken earth while those camped out below darted furiously from their burrows in a plume of blacken dust. Some wiggling with breathtaking speed up to the topmost edge of the incline while others alarming followed after their dead brethren. Taking to the filth encrusted water just as easily as they did land, shooting across to either side of the trooper’s position, clawing into the soil and hauling themselves out and into the fields of the mottle colored natives with their overly ponderous belt fed guns. The noise of their crude propellant detonating and the ringing of ejected shells fluidly mingling and mixing with the startled hiss of the alien soldiers creating a wondrous melody, but one to be short lived as those on the opposing bank responded in kind.

“I need that mortar!” ’48 screamed, clots of dirt kicking up around his head as streaming projectiles buried themselves, peering through the onyx hail and setting his gun’s target icon over one of the enemy and firing silencing that one forever.

“We’re working on it!” Jek, racing ahead of funnels of displaced sod nipping at his heels, screamed back as he dragged a wooden crate up to the gun by a frayed rope handle.

The two natives, who appeared not to understand anything he’d yelled at them, pulling of ahead of him carrying a solitary box between them. He swore they’d were smiling as they did so as was the native soldier who replaced his gunner comrade, the back of his skull demolished by one of the thousands of shots flying with wild abandon, and wildly resumed hosing the far side of the river. The man screaming over the roar of his gun in defiance of, or perhaps for, the thick specter of death which hung over them all.

Leaving him and the rest of them to their fate the corporal finished scurrying up to the gun, uselessly shouting orders to the two natives as they loaded and fired the powerful weapon. Laughing as its echoing cry died away, one lifting a shell up and sliding it down the smoking barrel as the other adjusted it hopefully in accordance to the firing pattern which lay crumpled and discarded at his feet.

Across the way the first shell came whistling down over the snakes’ position, several darting their scaly heads skyward as its lanced forth, and released its earth shaking fury. Bodies vanishing beneath the dark nebula of churned soil and viscera never to return, fleshy shards emerging from its shadowy edges pelting those who far enough away from its destructive force, their hides lacerated by splinters of metal and bone but not deeply pierced. Their grotesque and lengthy bodies hinted at from their low crouch as they started spreading themselves out, some rushing through the enveloping dust cloud, along their line putting more space between them for the second strike and the third which followed in their midst’s.

“Feth yeah! Take it!” ’48 hollered gleefully as a fourth blast blossomed hurling the ravaged remains of an alien end over end into the lifeless water below, his weapon ablaze in stutter mode as he swept it from target to target.” Keep it up Jek, by the Emperor watch them squirm!”

From behind him the corporal poked his head up off of the dry ground he’d shoved it against looking over where his dented and ripped helmet had fallen when a stray bullet had struck it to the trooper. An incredulously glint in his eyes at ‘48’s tone, a inner expression he turned towards the two natives still happily manning their weapon at his feet ignoring the screaming rounds darting all around their kneeling forms. Like the stormtrooper they took delight in the certain ways the aliens’ bodies were thrown clear from the blast, whistling and singing when they weren’t pointing and laughing some god awful tune Jek couldn’t hope to understand.

If they knew that at any moment the Xeno counterpart to them would zero in and fire they faced it with the same oblivious, merry stoicism their gunner comrades did enthusiastically mowing thousands of leaden bullets into the far side and when the time came, when their mortal vessels were knocked away and their tissues torn apart they would in their final moments pull a handgun or compact carbine from their person and lob the shots over the heads of the compatriots who had taken over their position. Uneasy similarities to stories he’d heard about battledroids, blown in half with their delicate innards a molten mess, dragging themselves across the hectic battlefield with one hand and shooting away with the other dredged up as he watched such soldiers die.

“That shouldn’t be a problem!” He answered ’48 at last finding his voice, through it sounded weak and little amid all the noise.” At least until they drop a present down on our heads, when does Gunny plan on doing this?”

“Soon as I give the word.” The trooper answered raising a hand to the side of his head as he switched back to the sergeant’s bead.” All clear Gunny, proceed. And Gunny? Tell these things I said high.”

“Confirmed.” Came the muffled and echoing voice of the white thing which emerged from beneath the black oozing water, clutching one arm against the barren slope and digging his knees through the silt like soil as he hauled himself up it.

The bodies of ’19 and Specs emerging a nanosecond later, gushing up to the land in a hydro spray unobserved against the constant littering of remains and landscape, taking position to either and a step slower to the sergeant climbing to the top. To the Serpent-man coiled there who at the last moment felt the disturbed through the soil and craned his lithe head over the edge, earning the reward of Gunny’s blaster cannon being rammed into it and fired. The first shot of the high volume gun enough to clear the skull’s contents, by the eight the thing’s body simply dissolved and the stormtrooper kept firing pushing the weapon further over the edge and twisting it one way and then the other.

’19 slipping past on one side in the gun’s wake screaming a warrior’s cry as his twin blaster carbines he clutched in each hand sang to life. First to the sawed in half Xeno he dropped onto his knees and skidded behind and then into the woods at the things which lurked there. A momentary target before the twitching of his shield and its hot blood splashing against his visor forced him to shift back to the shore’s edge at the bloody things which unfurled themselves from their dead comrades. His guns more apt and capable of breaking through their hide then their own arms were.

As he howled with the devilish joy which was his way, bullets cracking over his head and the hum of his guns in his hands, Specs made his appearance against the left of the rising Gunny. Like his battle-brother he emerged along the trail of destruction of the much heavier gun as it resumed towards the center, unlike ’19 however Specs first action was to lob a thermal detonator into a patch of woods roasting the unseen mortar crew in a bust of purifying light. A flickering illumination which danced over the crouching trooper’s armor, checking the bulky scanner taped over his arm for further readings before bringing up his blaster rifle in both hands and firing in bursts as neat and tidy as everything he did. Vile abominations blown backwards with sizzling gapes through their chests and a third through their face, none of the wasted energy of ‘19’s dozens of shots he peppered each thing which drew his wraith. Serenely turning his gun, shooting, moving to his next target in an orderly prepared manner and then turning back to the original should it need an additional helping of destruction to remain dead.

“Alright we’re in the door and fethed off the entire nest. Time to flood the gates!” Gunny radioed smashing his gun against the side of a Viper, nudging it along with his weaving so that only two of its claws lightly carved through him and his armor, leveled it so that the first shot from the spinning chambers bisected the thing’s flank and removed it in a broiling showering of steam while the rest of his shots obliterated the surrounding acreage.

Things slithering forward through their ranks stopping cold before his weapon, retreating to either side of the column of thinning woods gouging its way through dead forest. While never relenting and chasing after the fleeing things herding them into sights of his fellow troopers he reached a hand past the two ruby streaks across his sternum and drew his blaster pistol. Flipping the DL-44 from its Velcro like pouch he drew it towards the face of the snarling thing reaching a blistered and red dyed hand towards its dropped carbine and in a flurry of red bolts punched through its skull and scooped out its brains. Only then looking to see if the fool, rat-tag team he’d been granted was actually obeying orders.

A flicker of pride threatening his heart as he witnessed a light assault vehicle over burden with infantry skim over the heads of natives dutifully disassembling their bulky heavy guns for transport, the craft closely pursued with an Imperial transport with its sides heavy with clinging soldiers and behind that rumbled native machines pressed into surface. A grinding, smoke belching half track vehicle which wobbled as it slammed into the murky water but sailed across and a mottled colored tank colorfully emblazoned with the phrase “ Der Fuhrer ‘s anfall” across it front with a snarling demon-man painted beside the slogan. Both mechanisms liberally overloaded with every native and Imperial soldiers Gunny could press Smiley for, the machine gunners leaping upon them as they crossed carrying their implement of death disassembled across their collective backs.

“Maybe they can be soldiers after all.” The sergeant snapped pushing forward widening their incision into the alien’s line ahead of the grunts leaping off of the arriving war-crafts.

Aided in the select and precise lethal fire of ’48 who bolts crackled over the battle with lethal results, an unseen angel of death reaping through the alien ranks all but forgotten as humans poured through assaulting their flank. But any stiffening resistance, any attempts to maneuver around the bulging thrust through their lines, anything other than holding fast and dying on the spot and even then drawing his vengeful ire. Watching the flashing red lettering over his scope he zipped his target icon over head firing in a controlled if fluid setting until even the warning light drew too much power and his system went dark. The cell he extracted from the bottom of the rifle, raising it up, tossed away into the filthy drink and he extracted a fresh one from his armor’s pouch. Watching the unfolding battle with a practiced eye as he inserted it and locked it into place.

“Looks like we’re about to move up, better having those fething natives pack up and-“ ’48 started with a turn of his head but stopping mid sentence, body rolling over onto its back as braced his rifle against his chest.

Jek, still laying face down saw this and feeling his stomach clench turned after the trooper’s panicked gaze. To the edge of the charred forest, to the dried twigs jutting out from the black bark which the Xeno snapped out of its way with one arm misshapen by its bulging muscles or with the chest plate of armor drenched in its and countless humans’ blood. A face marred by blaster scarring and thermal blisters snapping across the human’s wake sizing them up, one eye whole the other a broiled cloudy mess, as its raised its canon up from the bleeding gash in its side.

“Feth!” ’48 screamed firing an infinitesimal millisecond after the alien had done so, its supple neck pulling its head down and to the side of plasma bolt.

Its good eye watching as the expanding canister shot vanished into the back of a native, his sides and front swelling as it tried to contain it and then popped in an explosion of fist sized splinters. Closer to the unfurlment the native’s partner vanished in a grainy mist, arms and legs falling separately from the punctured and leaking torso, while further out an intact Jek was flung aside by the red laced torrent and ’48 felt his breath knocked out of him as a pair of shards hit but failed to penetrate his armor and a third chip was failed in his visor cutting through the crystalline barrier but stopping just sigh of his soft, delicate orb. Less delightful was the fragment which hit between armor plates piercing like a blaster bolt through the seam unlike the dozens of other shrapnel bits which slashed grooves over his plates but otherwise bounced off.

“Bantha spit!” He cursed letting go of his rifle and dropping flat against the ground against the expanding nebula of tempered steel, reaching a hand up to his scarlet running shoulder and wrenching the offending object from his flesh.” By the Emperor!”

Letting go of the soaked object, bit of him still caught in its teeth, he reached and fished out the tip protruding from his helmet while reaching for his secondary blaster. His eyes leaping back towards the alien and its one eye onto the stormtrooper as it realized its work wasn’t done. From a distance ’48 couldn’t truly appreciate how quickly the things to could move, either on their long, winding tail or merely from side to side as the one before him swiveled and lowered its weapon. No slouch on the quickdraw he instantly knew he’d never even clear the holster before he was serrated to bits but he went for it anyway refusing to flinch from looking his killer in the eye. Which was how he caught the red bolt which flew across and explode against the thing’s armored shoulder followed by a dozen more blaster shots a third of which connected with the snarling creature which pivoted around towards the offense. Jek, still refusing to believe what he was doing, greased in entrails which had the flung blades had skidded against but did not pierce knelt in a rising crouch sweeping his little carbine from side to side against the great beast. His weapon on full stutter mode unleashing crimson bolts which would have slain any human but not the alien at least not quickly enough. The bolts going up in fiery sparks leaving behind cracked, bleeding skin scalded to searing levels but leaving the meat underneath relatively undamaged. The corporal lacking the needed accuracy to achieve a kill on that setting unlike ’48 as he finished pulling his weapon out and thumbed it to maximum output.

”Hey ugly! The Kid’s with me!” He hurled at the abomination blasting through the thing’s murky, gray eye in a burst of incinerating gray matter.

Hit the serpent-man wheeled back around towards the trooper, blinked once and fell face first at his feet, ’48 laughing a panicked and nervous laugh as he pushed himself over onto his hands and knees to crawl towards Jek. After pocketing his sidearm and grabbing his rifle of course, the latter propped up as best he could manage in his arms while he wiggled over to a thoroughly shocked corporal. Jek haven’t moved or altered his position since the creature’s death instead staring straight into its gun had been a moment before it had been fatally shot.

“You okay Kid? Are you hurt?” He demanded grabbing hold of Jek’s greasy shoulder and shaking him, dragging him back to the waking world.” You can’t stay here Kid, you got to get moving, get it behind you. You read me?”

“Yes.” The corporal responded sound like he was at the bottom of a deep shaft.” I mean…I think I’m okay…he just exploded…right before me…he didn’t even seem to realize…face never changed…just disintegrated…”

“Them’s the breaks. Luck of the draw, lets just try and keep it from becoming us.” The stormtrooper replied wiping his hand off across Jek’s back and pushing the corporal along.” Come on it isn’t over yet.”

“It isn’t?” The blood smeared soldier asked sounding better, his stained face crinkling up in confusion.” But the breech, we helped Gunny make his breech in the line.”

“Yes we did Kid but that was only the first course. We are going to push past and reach around these sorry things to rip their sniveling spines from their bodies. Believe me this was just the beganing.” ’48 continued pushing Jek along as he maneuvered him to rejoin the advancing force.

[Admiral Breetai]

I like Gunny, and laughed at the story there poor guy joining the army because a girl blew him off lol. Great battle scenes and you still insist Krevin wouldn't be a good opponent for Vi'retess but maybe he surrounds himself with magnificent bastards Tyler is great.

Liked the fact that not every one sees the imperials as angels

[sonofccn]

Now after that action shoot-fest naturally instead of continuing with part two you want to slow things down with a Talkie! Don't thank me, no really don't I can't help it. These things just sort of happen obscuring and dissolving all the high octane fight scenes I want to create. I promise I'll get the next battle scene done, just going to take me a few more days. Unless Tyler joins a debate team or something. :)

“It will not matter who or what allies you surround yourself with be they infernal or otherworldly, human or monster. There is no burrow or bunker which will hide you. I will find you and you will know justice.” Hastily written rant found stapled on the corpse of Hen Jarring murderer and occultist penned by Charles Dex.

Judgment, bridge:

Commodore’s Log: By all accounts the limited ground incursion is proceeding well against minimal resistance which is welcome news along with my diplomatic victorious and is sure to help cement our budding friendship with…the people of this planet we’re orbiting. As to my remaining forces according to the reports I’ve been given Jackson has managed to avoid seriously damaging the Wraith and salvaged material to be studied from this alien race including a prisoner to be interrogated as soon as the Wraith regroups with our battlefleet. On a more personal note Shanulas has stopped complaining about bringing me my tea, even spiking it with Saurian brandy without my asking, despite taking him away from the unknown anomaly he’s been drooling over since our arrival. Interesting…

“Interesting sir?” Tyler appearing at the commander’s side asked raising an eyebrow.” That I kept your ship intact for you?”

Looking up from the datapad he’d been mouthing along as he typed he realized his second in command had returned from his frequent patrols around the crew pit putting the fear of himself into technicians. Returning the smile he saw on the subcommander’s face he shrunk down the log he’d been typing and brought up another file he’d been working on.

“No, just looking over some of the suggestions you and your council had presented to me. Their quite good, keep it up and you’ve have put me out of a job.” Krevin said hoping he kept the smile on his lips as he said that.

“Nonsense sir. Without a central force, without crushing authority to give it weight these things are not worth a mess of flimsies. This ship will always need a commander to be its heart and brain sir, never doubt that.” Tyler answered looking out over the busy working crew as if he expected them to challenge his claim.

What wasn’t said and what the rightful ruler of the Judgment didn’t press for clarification was whom the sub commander envisioned filling such a vital task. Instead Krevin shifted their conversation to ground advantageous to him.

“Well you performed quite admirably in these suggestions however in addition to the waging conflict a diplomatic delegation needs to formed to continue and advance the hard won gains in the political arena.” Krevin stated putting enough emphasis on the subcommander’s failure and his own victory for the bridge crew to overhear.” One or two of those silver spoon devils who could charm a Neimoidian out of his credits as well as scientific, military and engineering representatives. To offer and entice them with trinkets we can offer them and take stock of what they have for us.”

“ You really think they could be of significant use for us?” The second in command asked with a smile that was as dangerous as it was beguiling.” Our initial impression is that they are an antiquated and backwards and everything further collaborates this view. I fully agree with pacifying them, subduing them to our will, and if we can do it without attacking them all the better. It isn’t as if we could have allowed the alien scum to continue its destructive presence but beyond a safe harbor I’m not sure what else they could offer and advancing them technologically could make our hold here that more treacherous.”

Such warning not mere posturing for his own sake, the home galaxy teeming with precedents of worlds which had at first embraced the Empire and the New Order only to reject them once they had grown strong off of Imperial generosity, their enemies slaughtered by stormtroopers legions uncountable. No sooner had his mad scheme formed than he feared such an upset, vigorously aware of how it all could befall him, but could summon no other alternative which could so secure his position. Hiding the queasiness from his face from having his ruthless efficient subcommander probing the questionable ledge he was forcing them all upon Krevin stalled for a moment with a bemused smile as if finding the query diverting and constructed the narrative he wished to push.

“ As must as I am cautious of them the reports from Jackson stills me even more. There are very few ships which should be able to stand up to a mark two Imperial Star Destroyer and yet the saucer ship nearly did so. If there are more then I want the Judgment ready to fight at her best and to do that, do even move her from this system, we must rely and augment the native’s industry. Of course we will take every precaution, ensuring they have only the most rudimentary of required knowledge, shrouding our own ability and as well we have one advantage they solely lack. We know they will betray us at some point, something they might not realize yet, and by knowing you have a traitor allows you to expect for it, plan around it.” The Commodore said staring straight at Tyler as he spoke, voice softening as a light chuckle then began to scrape along the edge of his voice.” Besides how else am I to keep the likes of Jackson supplied without an industrial base? We’ve barely been in system for a pair of days and he’s already substantially depleted his reserves and incurred damage we can not repair at the present time. By the Emperor how am I supposed to keep South Colonials in the field at all?”

Deliberately choosing his ending to be a light hearted jab at the verbose and abrasive commander of the Wraith setting a bait he knew his sub commander couldn’t ignore, Krevin not disappointed as Tyler snatched at the presented opportunity. Partly from the natural fractious nature of the South Colonials, surprising metamorphous occurring on each vessel granted command to a Colonial where the native crew would rapidly began to transfer out to any ship which would take them to be replaced from Colonials from all across the Imperial service, and partly Krevin suspected because Jackson was one of the few people in the entire battlegroup for which Tyler couldn’t intimidate in the slightest.

“That has been a question officers have asked since the Old Republic rediscovered the colonists invading a Neimoidian world.” He exclaimed with a derisive snort, free in his opinion of the Colonials’ abilities.” With opinions as numerous as there are stars. Captain Guylos referred to them as needless butchers unfit for the sigils of the Empire or what it stood for while Admiral Korak believed they were best treated like starving Reeks, to be presented to their prey and released. With an eye to shoot them should they turn their claws towards you. Which is the nearest anyone has gotten to controlling them.”

“The Emperor take Korak and take him far.” The Commodore lamented moving, with Tyler in tow, towards Shanulas station where a kettle simmered on a portable heating pad the scientist had hooked up.” That is if he hadn’t died in that nebula, ironies of the galaxy wasn’t it. The hot blooded Colonials survive unscathed while cautious Korak and his flotilla buys it when they bumble into a Separatist remnant battlegroup seeking refuge inside the nebula for identical reasons.”

The story he recited as he helped himself to another helping of his tea the official narrative and he recited with all the due respect it deserved, something which made Shanulas poke an eye out from beneath his sheets of flimsies and holos he had surrounded himself with and stare for a moment. Hardly the most studious of men when it came to naval actions or overtly political, as the sub commander enjoyed exploiting, but flippant aspersions of mutiny and treason was much for him. Partly because of his lack of interest in politics he was still raw to how quickly and regularly such discussions emerged among the upwardly mobile officers or those who had been cast down in disfavor.

“ Mistakes happen.” Tyler said indifferently to which facts of the events he believed.” All we can do is learn from them and ensure that history doesn’t repeat.”

“And what do you discern from the Ishtar debacle, beyond the obvious keep your particle deflectors up at all times. “ The commander asked as he rose his filled cup to his lips, watching his immediate subordinate and gauging how he reacted.

“Never trust a Colonial force to screen for you…too aggressive and easily distracted. Forget the old trick of hiding in a Nebula, every idiot whose seen a holo-vid since the clone wars knows about it and your more likely to catch a magnetic mine than find safety inside one of those ionic messes.” Tyler counted off seriously rising to the challenge and clearly enjoying meeting what he assumed were his commander’s expectations.” Third strike craft. Korak fielded mostly Victories and his escort carriers went with the Colonials. Had he had them he could have projected better screens and spotted the assault group further out. Maybe enough to turn the battle if he was assaulted with old Banking clan Frigates and Lucrehulks.”

Finished the subcommander folded his arms over his chest and waited smugly for any criticism of his evaluation quite pleased with the novelty of it. Krevin hardly one to ever task those who served with him such abstractions, content only that his hull stayed together, that the day to day affairs were handled smoothly and that it appeared they were accomplishing something on the Outer Rim. But these were not the times of old and the Commodore had need of new tools and muscles, however dangerous.

“A little too rehearsed, I’d wager you studied his fiasco in the academy long ago and wanted to impress some battle instructor but accomplished none the less. If I didn’t need you as my second in command I’d say you’d make a fine ship’s captain.” The commander said teasingly lowering his cup of tea all the while still watching Tyler’s reactions.

“My place is here and you’re wrong. It was at the academy but I didn’t research it but the cadet leader of my squadron. A “Commodore” Wiggin, sharp as a lightsaber and as tenacious as a Wookie, one of the better minds to come out of the academy. Devoured anything and everything military which I teased him about because under other circumstances he was as gentle as a Shaak.” Tyler responded first with a toothy grin which then faltered as he sensed the inner workings behind Krevin’s immobile, cordial mask.” I’d agreed with his assessment of the battle.”

“Relax, for a second it looked like you were back at the academy. I’m not going to throw you in irons if you get a question wrong.” The Commodore, beginning his walk again, admonished keeping a smile on his face.” If I’m not mistaken that’s your job and you should be in pretty good with that person.”

“I imagine I am.” The sub-commandered answered allowing his equally controlled face to show anxiety for a few more seconds before he allowed it to be submerged.” Now then, onto this delegations your thoughts on the compliment…”

*

I like Gunny, and laughed at the story there poor guy joining the army because a girl blew him off lol.

Well glad you liked it, I tried to give each "stormtrooper" something of a personality. Of course I modeled Gunny heavily off of Hevy my favorate clonetrooper. So I didn't create so much as give him a gun and tell him to kill things.

Great battle scenes

Thank you. Any critique or complaints you might have, even minor, however I would love to hear it. Anything to build better battle scenes, which my story clings to in order to survive my suffocating Talkies.

you still insist Krevin wouldn't be a good opponent for Vi'retess but maybe he surrounds himself with magnificent bastards Tyler is great.

Tyler isn't a magnificent bastard he's an ordinary and loyal subcommander. Pay no attention to that dagger in your back it has always been there. :)

Seriously through Tyler squaring off against Vi'retess would be freaking awesome, assuming the universe didn't implode from the schemes within plans within gambits both men would create upon meeting, through I fear Tyler's personal bias against alien life may hinder him slightly in dealing with Vi'retess.

Liked the fact that not every one sees the imperials as angels

Oh no, I do plan to make Krevin work for his mad scheme but he can honestly claim he's better than most of the things which prowl the dark depths.

[Admiral Breetai]

Well glad you liked it, I tried to give each "stormtrooper" something of a personality. Of course I modeled Gunny heavily off of Hevy my favorate clonetrooper. So I didn't create so much as give him a gun and tell him to kill things.

Heavy seems pretty cool, I liked this chapter the chit chat about battle tactics was informative and refreshing..thank you for the shout out with this Captain Guylos. I take it the tragedy of Admiral Korak is required reading?

Thank you. Any critique or complaints you might have, even minor, however I would love to hear it. Anything to build better battle scenes, which my story clings to in order to survive my suffocating Talkies.

you're a very detailed writer that alone makes it worth it I don't see anything wrong with your battle scenes

Tyler isn't a magnificent bastard he's an ordinary and loyal subcommander. Pay no attention to that dagger in your back it has always been there. :)

The Perfect man to have at your side

Seriously through Tyler squaring off against Vi'retess would be freaking awesome, assuming the universe didn't implode from the schemes within plans within gambits both men would create upon meeting, through I fear Tyler's personal bias against alien life may hinder him slightly in dealing with Vi'retess.

in a confrontation like that it's the pieces on the chess set you feel really bad for. The galaxy being the chess set you feel bad for everyone

]Oh no, I do plan to make Krevin work for his mad scheme but he can honestly claim he's better than most of the things which prowl the dark depths.

He has that going for him if worse comes to worse "I'm better then the alternative' and "want some smaller versions of an ISD stick with me" tends to motivate the pragmatic if suspicious

[Praeothmin]

Don't worry about "talkies", as you can see my Fanfic is a talkie, sometimes interrupted with a battle or two...

Keep up the good work...

[sonofccn]

Okay the second half of Jek's wild misadventure. Very much not a talkie, unless shooting is a form of comunication, and my attempt for a cinemanic type action fest.

“ I swear the village was destroyed upon our arrival, the villagers and the accursed worshippers…sorry Marxist-Anarchist provocateurs against the glorious leader and his regime…were all dead their bodies strewn about the broken buildings. Centuries old homes smashed flat…flat like an elephant had stepped on them…then it emerged…the devil’s grandmother take me if I lie…like from a nightmare…rifle fire only enraged it…my halftrack opened fire with its heavy machine gun…a heavy machinegun! Tore open it’s immense gut but didn’t falter it and when it reached the halftrack…Lord have mercy how it tore it apart…reached for the crew. Took a shot from my Mark III to finally bring it down.” Colonel Otto “Falcon” Leach brief of the Imperium’s first contact with a Guardian.

New Hope, Fatherland Memorial Forest:

Snapping the blacken husks of the once mighty forest against its armored hide the assault gun rolled forward effortlessly if glacierly slow protecting the motley squad of infantry hugging in its wake from the retreating throngs of serpent-men. A nest the lumbering gun cleared with a belch of its over sized cannon hurtling a high explosive shell which shook the nearby world destroying the aliens as well as sending dozens of the dead trees sprawling down into the cracked and splintered earth. Collapsing more on top of and then grounding both sets to black powder beneath its unfathomable weight of heavy armor weaponry the assault weapon continued on pulling ahead of its supporting infantry as if incensed by the damaged it had wrought and the glimmer of movement ahead in the oven blasted brush promising more.

More adept and suited to the frantic pace of war the stormtroopers were quick to keep pace while the Imperial soldier, never trained but for garrison, lagged behind falling behind his adoptive battle-brothers as he clutched at his aching side beneath his combat vest. Weak and shrill assurances of his will to continue to the stormtroopers coming out in short, gasping breaths as he fought to suck in lungful after lungful of the acidic, smoke filled air. It was this heaving, craving for breath as he lunged over greedily fighting for every scrape he could which allowed him to first spot the stealthily unspooling mass between a crisscross of shunted trees, to notice the reptilian eye which lazily flicked up to greet him from a craggy face unearthing itself from the fire scorched sod.

The Xeno’s eyes hardening at its discovery, lunging towards the Imperial with all traces of slothfulness dispelled from its body. The dead wood and dirt flying outwards as it all but took flight into the air, avoiding with ease the solitary blaster bolt the soldier fired which was his first and sole warning to his comrades, spreading its arms out like wings before swiping one at its victim. The large, ornamental blade which curved out from his gauntlet at his wrist and his arm cutting perfectly the soft skin of a human, the soldier feeling only a rush of air and disorientation as his head was removed from his shoulders.

Bouncing in gory display as the snake-man dropped and coiled onto his tail dunking his upper torso down out of the fire of the stormtroopers and twisting his other arm to face them. The handgun he clenched within his scaly fist vomiting a piercing slug which cleaved open the face of one of his remaining four opponents and tore out the back of his helmet, the shock and spray of matter causing the comrade who stood beside him to hesitate. His finger to hover of his carbine’s trigger as he slowly, in comparison to the serpent’s fueled senses, rotated his head towards his friend and shouted a needlessly outcry in disbelief for the obvious.

It lasted a second, perhaps two before his training resumed, but by that point the alien was already one the move firing a quick burst at the other pair of stormtroopers who clustered on the other flank of the rumbling assault gun forcing them back behind its steel cover while it dove for its true prey. Pain flaring in its shoulder as the human soldier shot it with its rifle but that only drew the serpent-man on, giving extra flavor to the thrill as it reared up off of the ground batting the rifle the stormtrooper had clumsily had tried to use as a club, drove his blade up across from his stomach to his chest and as a parting insult snapped the tip of his tail against his leg breaking it.

The gurgling mess dropping, scraping feebly against the alien’s armor as he did so, in a wet, noisy splat, leaving the Viper free to latch on with its free hand to the side of the moving vehicle jumping onto its side where it scurried across but not before slapping a delayed explosive to the revolving tread.

Roaring with unconcealed delight as it felt the rush of flames across its backside and felt the jarring slam of concussive force which sent the armored gun veering astray the beast leapt from its perch after the two remaining stormtroopers who had attempted to circle around the rear of the war machine never suspecting until the Xeno had cleaved one in two down from his shoulder. His hot, life blood gushing out in vibrant but fleeting spouts across the vile creature as it raised its pistol towards the grizzled team leader who swerved firing his weapon.

His storm rifle gouging numerous welting wounds across the alien’s midsection and chest which bled, stinging its senses, but none cut as deeply as the beast’s handgun which punched without trouble of hesitation through the human’s chest and spine. Alive but helpless as his rifle fell from his hands and he sagged to the ground, hurling curses as the alien slithered above him silencing him with a flick of its blade. Howling with pleasure as it raised the blade back up to the heavens as the assault gun behind it exploded in the first casualty of a renewed offensive of its kind who vigorously surged forward around the burning ruins like a living carpet of scales and muscle.

Tilting its head back the blood drenched Viper crooned for its returning brethren boasting of victories the likes of Saargoth incurred and it was in those parted hissing jaws the first blaster bolt struck with explosive force. Incinerating flesh and pulverized bone inflating in an atomized nebula as a dozen more found their mark on the Xeno’s body turning it to cinders. The death of the natives, plus a wayward Imperial, thoroughly avenged the crouching Gunny began to track his spinning gun of death up and down the swarming tide, the broken timbers he and his squad took shelter behind exploding apart as the things returned fire.

“Specs…give me something before they’re picking us out of their teeth!” The sergeant demanded as the bloody swatch he cut into the enveloping force dissolved beneath the squirming bodies of fresh bodies.

Far more visible as low, hung blurs splintering out left and right, darting out in ever finer numbers back towards the stream Imperials had dubbed the Gauntlet. Back to the shaky and newborn beachhead spewed from in an ever widening column. Where soldiers of every stripe already struggled against the tenacious and agilic without fresh threats erupting from presupposed “stabilized” areas. And through Specs understood what was at stake as well as the sergeant the raspy, smoke burned voice his cybernetics bestowed to him made him sound disinterested as he reported on the artillery situation.

“We have inbound, you might want to duck it’s going to be pretty close for these little jewels.” Specs answered in his croaking voice as he responded to the chirping of his scanner by pointing his rifle off to the side of him and firing once killing the lurking threat.

Gunny nodded, signaling for the rest of his men to do likewise, releasing the trigger on his rotary cannon and dropping as small as he could behind what remained of his protective battements. Trading glances at each other ’48 and ’19 followed the sergeant and Specs’s example, ’48 reluctantly while ’19 gibbered with joy as he spun both his carbines and sank them into his holsters and knelt down onto the protective earth. Turning his battle scarred helmet towards Jek, who had been so hunkered since his teammates had obligingly halted their mad sprint, to bubbling speak with him as the first ghostly wail of the inbound fire fell about them.

“Watch this Kid, we are about to be treated to one fething lightshow!” He cried joyously grabbing Jek’s buried head and turning it along with his to witness the first flowing, green shell of energy pierce through the canopy of dead tree limbs.

“Sithspawn!” The corporal shrieked failing to recoil his head away as an incandescent nova blossomed up from over the slithering hordes, instead he could only squeeze his unprotected eyes shut as the most directly illuminated Xenos dissipated like a morning mist before the burst.

Most mercifully, their brains reduced to gaseous vapor before pain signals could possibly be processed, compared to those shattered instead that were kicked into the air ahead of the widening crater which fluidly sprawled outward. The gale breaking the spindly trees in two and hurling them groundward echoing the thunderous crash of the blast’s birth and sweeping over the Imperials rocking their huddled forms and throwing dirt up over them from the ash strewn landscape but no more. The stiff wind dying, the cantankerous roar turning to a pale murmur, and a sense of calm returned prompting Jek to open his eyes to see the freshly scorched sod littered with the unrecognizable mushy heaps of the aliens who had been too close to the blast. Then the rest of the plasma charges came onto the scene after their heralding brother and the world exploded.

Back on the icy moon he’d taken basic on artillery had been covered fleetingly along with his other training but looked upon as unpromising by his instructor the corporal had only received the barest shred to know how to operate the weapon. Neither he nor the drill sergeant imagining he’d ever be so close to the impact of an AV-7 and they’d fired safe blank fire at any rate not the high intensity thermal bombs which broiled the very air into an explosive clap. Breaking free from ‘19’s grasp, whom cheered with every vaporization of the enemy, the corporal ducked back down to the cool, gritty ground and waited for the torrent to end. Somewhere near him against the din rattling his teeth he heard Specs throaty voice calmingly speaking to the gunners, directing them against the enemy which now tried to scatter like insects. His mechanical voice never wafting, never faltering the long, long moments the barrage lasted, through to Jek it felt like untold centuries with his face stuck into the dirt, and silence returned only to be split not by guns but something deadlier.

“Lets go Valor, lets move like we have a purpose.” Gunny declared popping back up, his visor augmented eyes hungrily pouncing across the blasted landscape.” Specs, anything to see?”

“Negative sergeant, I’m reading no bioelectrical signatures beyond us.” The cyborg said, his electronic screech altering into his best imitation of doubt.” However without these things showing properly on thermals I can’t be absolutely positive.”

“Feth, didn’t join up for the health benefits.” ’19 remarked pulling his guns free.” Ready?”

The words no sooner out of his mouth than a blistering blaster bolt shot over his shoulder, the trooper spinning instinctively bringing both his carbines to bear before he realized the originator was ’48 and lowered them. Almost sheepish as his fellow stormtrooper raised his rifle and merely pointed back along his other side to the smoking crater he made through the forehead of a scalded but previously alive serpent that’d been aiming for ’19.

“Are you?” He asked playfully as he offered a hand down to Jek lifting him to his feet.

“No.” The corporal mistakenly answered, pushed back into motion as the squad moved on.

Taking up a nervous wing to the left of the cyborg to ‘19’s more energetic defense on the right, his blasters constantly twirling with anticipation eager to show up ’48 who trawled along in the rear at his own pace. His thumb held at the ready to extend back up the targeting sight through even without he’d already proven deadly with the weapon.

Passing along side the first of many bowl shaped depressions punched a third of a meter in places into the soil Jek nearly threw himself into the steaming hole as more shells flew overhead for all the good it would have done but the glowing blobs of death didn’t land near them. Instead great pillars of short lived flames reared up further through the almost endless forest, the dead canopy which sheltered their heads quivering and loosening burned branches over them, and crept forward at a leisurely walking pace.

“I’ve arranged for a creeping barrage until the shells run out.” Specs whispered when Gunny looked back somehow smiling through his helmet.” Smiley also sends his thanks and his wish you kill a few for him.”

“Emperor bless that old grunt…” Gunny declared dangerously coming close to a true happy exclamation before recovering.” Well come on then lads, let’s not leave everyone waiting.”

Rushing through the rising mists, which splashed far more harmlessly against his armor plate then it would the corporal’s bared flesh, he resumed an even more hectic pace through the blast zone and the broken stumps and organic viscera which lay shattered beyond. Keeping up his fleetness even as they reached the narrow band of remaining growth between where the first bombardment had ended and the walking coverage had began, the towering trunks dotted with interlocking black scarred branches the squad smashed out of their way as they slipped between. A head the green glare of the falling bombs twinkled, a friendly guiding light which drew them in like a signal beacon. The alternating light also helped to reveal the closely cropped bodies of the aliens flattened and woven around the conflagration tarnished tree bodies. Their bodies coated and rubbed with soot and dirt and clung with jagged twigs to help shield them among the bared branches, all but invisible to their prey approaching into the killzone but for Jek who heaving to keep his maddening run raised his gasping head skyward intolerantly fearful of the passing shells would abrupt veer straight down and kill him. His gazing discerning through the play of shadow and light and an instant later discerned their import, legs too locked with fear he continued catapulting forward while his mouth opened only to find itself speechless.

Instead his warning took the form of a blaster bolt he only realized he was the source of after the shimmering red lance took flight, releasing its potent fury against the side of one the alien beasts causing it to stir from its waiting rest. Its entwined body circling around the tree trunk, its head creeping around the side looking venomous down at the offending corporal, as did the others setting off a string of chirps off of Specs scanner, The cyborg, as well as the squad, stopping midstride before the trees of death blossoming into vibrant if deadly life, the trooper sweeping his weapon from side to side the chirping device strapped to his wrist increasing its panicked tone and displaying dozens of separate readings.

“Feth me.” He whispered as a trinary set of actions occurred in blurred unison around him.

One was the shot Xeno curled its rifle from around the tree’s edge and fired, heralding the downpour its brethren were to unleash, another was Jek to regain enough of his composure to hurl himself to the ground where he was not ashamed to wallow wormlike behind the safety of a timber and the third was the tree and the wounded alien being incinerated by Valor’s sergeant’s multi-barreled cannon.

The destruction escalating downward after a descending Viper who launched itself into the air, as others of its ilk did, unfurling razor lined arms while on the tree beside it ignoring the rocketing cinders pelting off of it another stretched its body off of the tree and fired. Through the intervening space Gunny saw it and swerved to the side, his armored shoulder exploding in place of his head, ramming into the side of a trunk and hosing the firing position into atoms before slinking behind his tree carving his weapon’s fire across the canopy now alive with motion.

“Looks like they still want to play!” Gunny shouted over the crackling noises of falling treetops and the distant rumble of ever advancing bombardment.” Let’s show these snakes how Imperials do it boys, ’48 you’re with me clearing top level, ’19 you and Kid take bottom. Specs, anything we miss.”

“Feth yes!” ’19 screamed before with a joyous cry slipping between two trees firing full auto with his twin guns, his opponent squirming and weaving between his own as fiery blisters sprouted from his body.” Come on Kid, for the Emperor!”

Shielding itself with a plate shrouded arm the target of ‘19’s dissolution drew itself up, gaseous chunks expunging from its arm and torso as it wielded its machine gun into place. Muzzle seeming to all but vanish beneath the white glimmer of the escaping shells, casings shooting out the side in a thick sheet, which acted like thermal detonators to either tree flanking ’19 as he dropped and slide across the ground never relenting on his target. Disintegrating it tried to turn uttering one barbed curse in its primordial tongue from its incinerating lungs before its body split open and the burning embers held within spilled onto the ashy ground. Their sickly light washing over the trooper as he rolled off of side and over wedging his knees beneath himself and rising into a crouch and peppered a second target in the distance burning the tip of its long, slender tail off as it dove behind a tree. The shards from its fragmentation cannon spread too far to be a danger, a few impaling in the ground or trunks around the stormtrooper as he “hacked” his way through his opponent’s cover with blaster bolts. Believing the few traces of dead, crinkled leafs and easily shattered twigs was the result of the stabbing slivers until it was too late, hearing the scrabble of the Xeno’s body against the bark and catching the glint of its daggers from his corner only after it coiled to strike upon him.

Body elongating from the timber with jaws stretching open into a ravine of swords while taloned arms raised knife blades rivaling the length of a human forearm above drawing the needed force to crack through the trooper’s protective armor, its burning eyes which glared heatedly down at him aglow with the reflected heat of its slaughtered brethren’s smoldering ashes until they caught a ripple of motion on their peripheral changing direction as a new radiance far greater consumed it.

“Point for me.” Rasped Specs watching the body tumbled over ’19 and land at his feet, steam gushing from the triangular set of holes punched through its face, ensuring it didn’t rise and then quickly saluted his battle-brother leaving him to his battle as he resumed his own.

His scanners going wild as it reported movements, biosignatures and radio emissions as the hellish things communicated and coordinated their assault, a tidal wave of information blaring from his wrist more than enough to engulf any mind. No one not even one as seasoned as he could read it all, would have been swamped to try shifting through false readings and those generated by his fellow troopers fighting around him. Instead he had to dilute the maelstrom bearing over him, use what years of fighting for the Empire had gifted him to pick what he wanted to see and find it through the electronic noise. Bio signs at a preset proximity to his fighting squad, motion in a set boundary where none should have been, sudden spikes in thermals hinting at weapons fire those he went after. Letting them guide him as he turned in a half circle and raised his carbine towards the canopy, focusing his eyes which narrowed and telescoped in sight far beyond what the original, crude orbs he’d been born with to a cluster of burned branches and the flash of murky green as one of the serpent-men darted into view. Leaping from one tree to the next he continued at a blistering pace curving behind the squad for their presumed soft hindquarters nor was he alone. Others from elsewhere in the woods joining him, through he was the first to fall with first a hole gouged through his shoulder, then through where his neck fused into it and next into his opening snout.

The body falling Specs shifted to the next target nodding his head to ’48 who he shot over who moved slightly to the side and continued his own shooting with crackled above and to the right of the cyborg’s head. More laborious than the machine-man’s but not less precise, the heads of those who had resisted Gunny’s more voluminous approach pulverized like fruit. The broiling reactants of their demise adding to the thick carpet created by the sergeant’s cannon creating a seething fog his visor struggled continuously to peer through. His rifle raking along after his probing eyes, both stopping as through the swirling mess of vapor he spotted something flicker around the edge of a shattered trunk. On the other side he saw a hint of something as it teased him, both the creature and the trooper’s sights traveling up to the singed and jagged toothed top of the blaster shortened tree.

“Smile you son of a bantha…” He said grinning to himself as through the mists he saw a shadow loom, firing without hesitation.

The heat of the bolt seeming to burn away the surrounding fog allowing him to flawlessly see the creature twist away, its body turning into a curved “C” shape, and resume bringing its own long barreled and sighted rifle up to its scaly face. ’48 not having time to squeeze off another shot before the world exploded and then instantly silenced, shards of his helmet flying in front of his face as he staggered through a forest which had began to spin like a top. Fighting to keep hold of his rifle as he lurched sideways, raising a hand to the broken mask and seeing blood on his fingertips before the ground rushed up at him and hit him harder than the time he challenged Assault Commander Donner to a boxing match.

“’48!” Came ‘19’s panicked wail raising his carbines and swerving towards the fallen trooper, moving towards his body the same instant Jek emerged from his hiding.

The indecisiveness and faltering which had shackled him cravenly hovelling behind his tree missing as he bolted out into the opening firing at the smoke shrouded tree top the shot had come from. The alien, locking its sights on the rushing ’19, shrieking as blaster bolts exploded on and near its body, scurrying down from its perch with the packets of plasma following it down the timber to rear out from behind the trunk several meters below and fire back. The corporal heard the crack as the slug passed his ear, felt the gush of ionized air as it blasted across his cheek, and saw his quarry retract back around its wooden shield and dove his blazing gun intersecting it. Pulpy wood taking flight along with boiled tissue, continuing to hammer the beast holding his weapon steady and stepping to the side to keep it under a relentless shower even as it curled around the timber. Finally after untold blaster shots its torso fell away and dangled from it, the Xeno’s tail too tightly entwined in its final moments to ever come loose, and its carbon scored weapon feel from its moth eaten limbs landing without sound to the forest floor.

Realizing the silence and that his kill had been the last in twin epiphanies when he felt a pressure on his shoulder only turn and find Gunny looking down at him, his own weapon still and pointed skyward. Through there was no change in his grumbling voice he sensed a grim smile behind it.

“Good shot soldier.” He rewarded Jek with lifting his hand from the corporal’s shoulder back to the barrel of his gun, turning to ’19 crouching over ’48.” How is he?”

“Well I’ve certainly felt better but I can still fight Gunny.” ’48 declared rising up reaching a hand up to pull off his helmet revealing a few red lines spiraling out from the side his mask had been cracked open.”Helmet’s gone but just as well, never could see a fething thing in one anyway.”

The words barely out of his mouth before ’19 grabbed his chin and twisted his head this way and that inspecting it, only letting go after ’48 playfully slugged him once in the gut. Retrieving his weapon he returned at the sides of the equally appraising Specs and ’19, both astonished at his light injuries.

“His helmet must have deflected the shot off course, a perfect play off of the angle of the shot to his turning head…one in a million easy.” Specs murmured in his smoky voice appraisingly.

“You are one lucky son of a bantha…and to waste it here when we had shore leave at that gaming den…” ’19 chuckled holding ‘48’s helmet and sticking his finger out through the side of it.

“Save it, we still have a mission to finish ladies unless I missed a bulletin. Lucky if you’re feeling up to it and care to share some of that good fortune with us take lead, make sure we don’t walk into another of these ambushes. Al right? Move it people, we have a war to win.”

***
The cannon shells had ran out depressingly quick and the forest hadn’t through the trees had at last began to disperse farther than the snakes could jump across. Along with decreasing cover this questionable boon was offset by the blacken ground rising in uneven slopes and growing increasingly more terrestrial. Like the teeth of a krayt dragon more and more rocks protruded from the scarred soil ever bigger, one such nearly cutting off Jek’s face as he dropped even lower to avoid the mortar shell’s detonation. Their gun as well as the rotary cannons they’d positioned to defend it more than adequate supplied with munitions. Bones chattering as the force of the blast rolled over him but not feeling the thousand stinging touches of the warhead’s fragmentation the corporal lifted his face up out of the dirt to try and shake away the rolling thunder in his ears and nearly lost his head once more. Eating the charred sod once more as an AT-ST’s blaster bolts skipped overhead into the firing position blowing through the logs stacked and latched together easy enough but failing to cut through the boulders arrayed behind.

Undaunted the reckless crew continued forward blasting deeper and deeper through the centuries old rock attracting the notice of one of the heavy gunnery crews which washed harmlessly over its metal hide and the ire of one a snake-man in one of the surrounding trees whose rocket wasn’t by half. Jek, peeking up from his cowering, caught sight of dirty orange blossom which took over the face of the walker, the armor splitting open revealing the shredded crew as the machine tumbled to the side. Daring to look up he saw the serpent squirm its way back behind its tree from the lackluster fire of a imperial soldier who in turn quickly scampered away before a he could be claimed by a heavy machine gun again.

“We have to hurry, Smiley can’t keep those fethers from biting at the bit much longer.” Came the tiny whisper of a voice Jek most did not want to hear, raising and crawling forward as he heard it.” Can’t say I blame’em, from here they can shell into the sides of the armies bypassing them.”

The voice a still and soulless abomination, a death like croak fitting for its owner who was more dead than alive. Prolonged and sustained in a simulacrum of life by the unholy machinery fused into his flesh, it made the corporal’s skin crawl and pushed him harder to creep around and up the rising elevation towards the mortar nest. From behind he sensed Specs following, keeping up with a slow but efficient and methodical series of motions.

Gunny and ’19, whom he’d have preferred to be paired with, coming in from the other corner while ’48, or Lucky as he’d now been dubbed, waited in the distance to do what he did best. Waited for the signal of the gunnery post going up to began his own terror which did little to calm the corporal’s nerves as he inched his way closer and closer to a nest of the things with more above with just a downward glance away from spotting his belly flat self and the infernal thing never relenting behind him.

Stopping and gritting his teeth as the cannon fired once again, at what he couldn’t guess, he felt the machine-man’s fingers brush against his boot as he too came to abrupt stop, complying if not understanding through his network of wires and electrodes the involuntary actions of Jek. Once the blast began to dissapate and he saw it hadn’t landed anywhere near Lucky’s shielded position the corporal began his snake like movement up the rocky slope. Before he could travel more than a paltry few millimeters the cyborg’s hand darted ahead of him and despite his revulsion fueled burst of energy he couldn’t avoid its touch or escape from it. The machine-man silently wrapping his arm around Jek holding him in place while cupping his hand over his mouth, which only much later would the corporal learn wasn’t infested with crude robotics, stifling any sound he might have desired to make. His ear bristling and his entire body going rigid as he felt Specs lean over him and felt the raw, mechanically delivered breath of the stormtrooper blow across him.

“Careful.” He delivered in a tone so low it could travel to no other but the corporal, extending one finger and pointing towards the canopy of burned branches where one serpent-man hung suspended.” He’s watching…”

Jek, like Specs and others, had his armor and body lathered in grit and greasy ash helping him merge with the bleak landscape he huddled against but merely the thought of one of those things looking down at him made him break out in so much perspiration he feared his camouflage would melt away. It didn’t or at least not enough for the towering Xeno far above in the sky to notice and after a few grueling seconds the cyborg informed the corporal that the outwardly unchanged creature was no longer looking in their direction.

“I have something a little better than the mark I.” He answered with a soft laugh when questioned how he could possibly tell.” I could count the pits in his teeth from here.”

“I’m sure you do, and many other things I couldn’t dream off.” Jek snapped back chronic cowardice alone keeping his voice to a croaking whisper as he pried off the machine-man’s hand and tossed it back to him.” I don’t think I could…cut myself like that no matter the gain.”

“Didn’t have much choice in the matter.” Specs said without responding to the soldier’s venomous tone before his smoky voice grew more ragged as he conjured up memories which burned hotter than stars and blaster bolts.” Megarachnids came to my world…was fifteen thought I was as strong as a Wookiee and could head butt a Rancor…when they came to my family farm I grabbed my father’s old blaster rifle…got one shot before they sprayed me with their digestive fluid…all that would be left of me would be broken down proteins hadn’t the ugly lug that is our sergeant dragged me to a LAAT and evaced me to a field hospital.”

While unversed in the greater ways of the galaxy he’d seen Megarachnids in the News-Holos, seen what they could do to the harden soldiers of the Empire. While he could not in truth feel pity for the half-death anomaly he couldn’t help but feel his heart strings pull for the fifteen year old child he’d once been. The human child the aliens had killed on that farmstead as surely as if Gunny hadn’t got him onto the transport.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered resuming his crawl, speaking to the ghostly phantasm propped and supported by arcane science and not what Specs had become.

“Don’t be, being there allowed me to be one of the lucky few civilians to be put on an Acclamator and shipped to orbit before the Imperial Fleet scorched my homeworld. I’d trade a few grams of flesh for that wouldn’t you?” Specs asked with another of his scratchy laughs as the two continued on their way.

Coming up to the piles of trees staked up and tied together with whatever odds and ends the aliens soldiers could find and granite boulders which untold erosion and geological drift had settled into place over the eons, marking the end of the easy part of their mission and the start of the heart stopping terrifying bit. Wedged between the rocks nearly a dozen of the vipers crouched, their bodies wrapping around each other so that it was impossible for any clear count, manning a trinary set of guns covering all around the enclave and the offending mortar. Two working the firing and loading of it as it vomited another geyser of flame and shell skyward while a third shouted commands relaying orders and data from across the battlefield directing its awesome power with pin point precision.

All of the Xenos consumed in their respective duties, unassuming and unaware of the death holding above them until ’19 popped up with one of his familiar yells weaving both guns in front of him in fantastic patterns. From his side Jek thought he heard the machine-man sigh before he opened fire prone to the ground, same as the corporal as he belated squeezed his firing stud. Both sprays ripping open the back of the aliens as they turned to meet their first threat, claws, blades and bullets hunting after him as he hopped back from sight. Replaced by Gunny and his rotary cannon who grinned behind his helmet as it began to spin.

“My turn.” He cackled while he fired unusually controlled bursts into the seething, crowded force caught trying to fight in two directions at once, above lights flashed and bodies fell as their guardian eyes were obliterated in rapid succession.

Then it was over and the sergeant hefted his weapon against his shoulder, bandaged and turned crimson, and marched across the smoke clouded ruins to the untouched mortar where the field commander had fallen against. Much of its lower body in bloody ruins it still held enough strength to raise it bloody clawed hand off of the cannon and reached for a dropped pistol. Clutching it and swinging it around before Gunny’s first shot with his own sidearm blew the limb off, the second demolished its hideous head and the third assured the job done. Holstering as the rest of his squad joined him inside the stone temple of death he switched to a general frequency to alert Smiley and the awaiting soldiers of their progress.

“Site’s clear and the gun’s undamaged. Send up a crew quick as you please.” Gunny remarked leaning down to pick up one of the gore covered shells neatly stacked beside the weapon.” And give these Xenos one fething hard time.”

Listening to his friend’s and commander’s reply he turned away and exited out from beneath the rock bastion as he men went over the lying lizards, shooting any which still moved or sensors showed life lingered within their wretched frames. Outside soldiers cautiously advanced, a mixture of Imperial and natives, supported by a walker and a clanking native war tank.

No transports Jek found himself noting, the resumed offensive puttering at a walking creep with the heavier vehicles extremely conscious of the alien anti-tank rockets and lingering behind their meatshield. The more adventurous, the more bold and better equipped soldiers for both forces littered back along the forest as the price for advance, or nearly all of them.

Turning back with a shake of his head he helped heaved off a blasted corpse from the alien-soldier beneath whose slight twitches as Lucky prodded him with his rifle tip earned him the destruction of his head. The smoldering remains growing limp as the corporal let the first body roll back into place, the burden of bone and muscle too great for anything else, and moved on with the stormtrooper to the last few bodies. While they finished Specs took the advantage to remove his helmet, exposing his mangled face once more, and tucking it beside him as he rested on the back of a slain serpent produced an oiled cloth and started wiping the worst of the excessive grim from his weapon. ’19 meanwhile propped up one of the dead against the stone wall, liberating it of its nearly carbine sized pistol which he toyed with. Dropping it and the alien only by the sudden grunt of Gunny’s voice which interrupted everyone’s activities.

“ Let’s finish and pack it troopers, new orders.” He intoned in a voice which shook like the brass footfalls of an AT-AT.” MAATs inbound with bellyfuls of honest to Emperor stormtroopers and we’re part of the shake and greet.”

“I hope they’re making a hard LZ Gunny and that’s why they need us there, because I fething fail at playing nice with anyone.” ’19 cracked drawing his carbines.

“Then relax, insertions points will be about three kilos beyond the advancing army, we’re going to link up and go straight up these Xenos’ mountain fortress and completely crush them between the speartips.” The sergeant explained to ‘19’s relief and Jek’s near fainting as the unit assembled to fall out.” Ready Valor squad? We’re pushing through and you can bet the snakes won’t be obliging.”

Contrary to the harsh almost whisperish promise of the squad leader, and in align with the corporal’s feverish wish to every deity he had ever heard of as well as a few he was sure he’d just made up, the enemy didn’t heavily contest them. Indeed against the pummeling of their stolen mortar and the increasing coverage of both native and Imperial variants the all but melted away with the imagined death march becoming an almost pleasant stroll barely a kilometer ahead of the main body mopping up a few desperate hold outs. Fawning out around the desired point at the command of an almost disappointed Gunny, Jek and the rest of the squad watched the sergeant as he walked to the center of the landing zone and quickly drew, lit and tossed a stubby flare down to the grizzled and sparse ground.

Stepping back from the rising red plume, matched by similar crimson funnel shaped clouds rising up through the thinning forest, and looking skyward as he informed Smiley they were in their position. The patch in job of the inbound gunship however, splicing in just as a clap of what felt like thunder, was what he received instead, a grating and panicked voice demanding to know if the site was secure.

“One of their blasted fighters sneak up into our formation, took at least one our gunships out before they bagged it with a fething proton missile, I’m over loaded with men so I can’t even maneuver and they are hurling what seems to be an entire cosmos of their ground missiles at me.” The pilot needlessly blathered in response to Gunny’s more disciplined request for his situation.” By the Emperor just have the ground held open or I swear-“

“Gunships inbound, hot. Be ready.” Gunny, hearing the whine of their engines approach, commanded switching off the noisy and blubbering pilot.

Above the troopers’ heads the sky began to bristle and crackle with screeching missiles spawned in endless amounts shooting across on geysers of hot plasma, some exploding due to counter fire while others weaved through it transforming into fire red blossoms against the shields of the crafts jetting into view. Seeming to sense the proverbial blood missiles which at first appeared to be streaking towards one target spun away and spiraled towards others whose deflectors were faltering, bludgeoning them down and disintegrating the armored transports encased within.

Shards radiating the molten flame of their destruction crashing down like surgeon blades cutting through the dead forest as the gunship marked for Gunny’s squad stalled into place, lurching crudely to one side to try and avoid a seeking missile which hurled itself against and was repelled by the ship’s still sturdy deflectors. The hazy blue aura shimmering for a second from the exertion, adding an odd tone to the missiles and emerald blaster bolts it unleashed towards the opposition, before it faded away and the side of the craft slide open disgorging black cables to the ground below. Onto these ropes bright and shiny armored stormtroopers appeared, sliding down from the fighting craft to the cheer of ’19 who fired a few excited bolts upwards.

A cheer which turned to a warning cry as three fresh missiles erupted from their forest launchers, themselves destroyed a millisecond later by the MAAT gunners, rising on plumes of smoky ash and struck with blinding speed into the underbelly of the gunship. The shield flaring again, growing more intense against the second one’s forceful termination and failing for the third with the fiery detritus gouging through the armored flank and underside of the war machine. Dangling stormtroopers falling, screaming, as the craft tilted to the side disposing of more along with its splintering superstructure.

“Too hot! Abort! Abort! For the Emperor ab-“Gunny listened to the garbled screed of another pilot’s warning, ending in the painful hiss of metal vaporizing, as the transport broke apart into blazing cinders and fell like a meteor shower over them.

More frantic information following from dozens of separate sources broadcasting into the ether as the sergeant found himself on the ground rolling out of the way of slab of molten glob which had been part pilot and part forward prow, reports of a fresh ground surge offensive by the vile aliens, warnings of larger caliber rocket artillery bombarding the army’s position, and sketchy informant of the enemy’s own hover-crafts appearing from the shadows dispensing their infantry into the addled and shattering army’s rear. That and more, none of it good.

Rising up after the last of debris had finished falling with the screams of the other forward sent squads ringing in his ears he called out briskly for his teammates scouring the wreckage for them while holding the rotary cannon he’d refused to drop ever at the ready. Listening beyond the echoing squeal of missiles flying overhead or their rumbling detonations in the distance for the slightest breakage of twigs, the rustle of scaly bodies over ash covered rocks.

“I’m alive.” Lucky called rolling out from beneath the snapped trunk of a tree which had wedged against a neighbor a less then a meter off the ground.

“Same here.” Specs called out seeming to manifest from a haze of foul smoke like some demon, bending down and lifting off some of the wreckage at his feet revealing Jek laying there with hands cupped over his head.

Peaking out with one eye he slowly realized he wasn’t crushed, thanks in equal parts to the light weight superstructure as well as the cyborg’s armor taking the brunt, and stood up sheepishly adding he still lived. Which left only one familiar voice whose taunt and drained mannerisms couldn’t stop him from making light of the situation.

“Oh I’m still breathing…” ’19 grunted pushing up from his elbows and looking at his lower half caught underneath a wing segment.”…but I don’t think I’ll be dancing anytime soon.”

“Get him clear and regroup with the army.” Gunny snapped turning to face the rustling sound he heard.

“Gunny?” Specs inquired as Lucky darted over to try and lift the wreckage off of his fellow trooper.

“We’re being pushed back. Get everyone to the new position before I kick your asteroid.” The squad leader swore.” I’ll follow after your clear.”

With that and a hellish yell that would have curdled the stoutest warrior he charged forward, the disperse woods ahead melting away before his fire. From there and from behind every rock they came, snarling things emerging with guns and blades. They danced around him along with the flash of blaster light and plasma burned flesh, the choffing noise of their guns melding with the shrill cry of their axes and swords meeting empty air. And still they came and he didn’t care. Taunting them, yelling at them, insulting them as he weaved between outstretched claws, and between swarms of riddling bullets, anything to keep them enraged. Anything to keep their focus on him.

“Come on! All you fethers want to live forever? Come and get me!” He hurled rupturing a trio of the loathsome beasts and slammed the spinning barrel against a fourth’s snout buckling it.

Spinning he delivered a kick knocking it away as he washed away a pair dropping from a tree along with the botanical growth itself, burning wood chips cutting through his armor’s outer layers as his gun traversed back. Cutting through additional ranks which dared to emerge but before he could complete the circle felt the driving, searing pain of a lightsaber whip against his injured shoulder, fresh blood welling from the wound as he was pushed forward. Combined with weakening knees he nearly fell, caught himself and was rising when the tail of the broken mouth beast struck again across his back with the same force of a Bantha stepping on it. Armor broke and perhaps something and he flung forward, his weapon skidding out of reach, tasting his own blood as he hit face first against the rocky ground, helmet protecting him only slight, and rolled out of the way of the third strike which would have snapped his neck.

“Takes more than that you sithspawn reject!” He snapped drawing his handgun as he turned to face his attacker, only seeing the green blur as an afterimage as it dropped past.

His world turned crimson as the second attacker sliced its steel sword across his face, helmet falling away as he rolled his head back drowning in his own blood, and when it vaguely cleared his sidearm had vanished form his grip. Seeing nothing through his scarlet haze which could be it, finding nothing which his quick probing before he scuttled to his feet facing both aliens with his fists raised.

From a distance at the remains of the blasted gunship Specs saw this, captured in flawless clarity by his electronic eyes, and moved to help only to stop and turned his head towards Lucky busy clawing at the rough, lifeless soil while Jek feebly struggled to hold up the wing as much as he could. The chirping of his scanner flashing in the machine-man’s ears as much as the sergeant’s order drawing him back, turning his back to his comrades as he fired a rapid burst into the chest of an Xeno coming in from the side of the crash site and veered to the side to shoot another.

Moving out of the way of return fire he held the trigger down as he cleaved it back across in the opposite direction severing a warrior in half, dropping his weapon down after the wiggling top half which fought to angle it rifle back towards him. The attacking aliens not going unnoticed by ’19 who gave Lucky a shove as he raised his own carbine and added to Spec’s defense.

“Get out!” He ordered twisting under his wreckage to give the corporal a shove, one he accepted more readily than ’48 who dropped back down trying to free his friend.” Trooper we are about to be swamped, get your asteroid moving before I report your sorry hide to Gunny. You don’t want to make him mad.”

“We need to go…we need to…” Jek said trying to be reasonable, skittering from barrage to barrage as he narrowly avoided being shredded apart.” They’re coming for us.”

“Let them.” Lucky snapped stopping ’19 as he tried to push him away a second time and continued his work.” Run if you want, or be a trooper and fight.”

“I’m not a trooper!” The corporal was quick into interject looking over the barren wasteland they had trekked across, invitingly calling to him like a beacon.” I’m just…I’m just…a grunt.”

It was hardly the most endearing of epitaphs imaginable but it was what rushed out of him as bullets and glowing blaster bolts, an unappetizing sigh of a whine. At the fates, at being stuck out on this dismal planet, being picked up by the clearly insane band of stormtroopers, at the life which had landed him there. And of course of a particular redhead whose actions had started his descent away from everything he understood or knew.

It was a lousy argument and he expected Lucky to snap or threaten him but instead the trooper only grimly smiled and nodded his head turning away to resume his crucial work. At his side he sensed the cyborg through this time he didn’t jump or felt his body tense up, looking up into his masked face as he continued to hose down the forest.

“Better make a run for it. Let them know Valor squad did their duty.” Specs whispered pardoning the corporal, breaking away and drawing the enemy fire away from Jek freeing him to make his bid for safety.

Feet like heavy clay hobbling him, making him delay, hoping he wouldn’t have to make the run by his lonesome. Trying to find something better to excuse his cowardice, something better to leave them with than a soiled plea but his lips were like his legs and uncooperative. A few sputtering attempts dieing as he saw movement above Lucky’s head, he in turn looking up as a salvo as blaster bolts forced the Xeno back from its perch falling to the ground with its torso gutted open. Its brethren quick to replace him which the corporal continued to fire at cutting diagonally away from the digging Lucky. His feet worked doing that, amazingly.
***
Gunny heard the firing of his squad, burned to rejoin them, which only enhanced his fury for the two creatures he murkily glimpsed through his bleeding wound. One brandishing a huge slab of iron finely forged into a swordblade while the other with the caved in mouth took delight smashing a pair of huge ax heads together, against these he held a pair of blood covered hands curled as tight as a collapsed star.

“All together or one at a time all the same to me lads, lets just get on with it.” Gunny snarled slowly circling towards the one with the sword.” I have things to do.”

The things couldn’t understand basic, communicating almost exclusively in hisses and guttural roars, but they could understand his tone as well as the blood mingled saliva he spat onto the face of the swordsman. The beast blinking, the scarlet waste dribbling down its chin, for a moment in scarce belief than with a dragon like cry it did exactly what Gunny wanted it to do. Came charging at him with lightening quickness few men could comprehend, but he had been created from no mere man. The natural prowess of the best fighting race in the galaxy had been honed by training and years of mortal battles and even before the creature had moved forward the sergeant was already in motion. Slipping down below the large, unwieldy blade his opponent favored as he unspoiled his hands and clasped them together driving their elbows into the thing’s side below its arm grateful for confirmation of a similar ribcage as a human but resentful when he didn’t feel the splintering from the force effect he could have expected from a human. Still it howled in pain and for a moment was distracted by that which he used to launch off after the one with a broken mouth who’d been lingering back to enjoy the spectacle.

Receiving a closer a show then expected as Gunny sidestepped its clumsily swung ax and swung his cupped hands like a mace against the thing’s broken jaw, more of the bone tearing through the flesh in a most painful manner, and then darted behind its arched back avoiding the snapping tail of the first creature which, denied the feeling of compressing flesh, spun around for another sword stroke. The insanely sharpen edge tasting hot, salty blood but not the squad leader, instead its associate whom being rammed by the sergeant was nudged forward onto the advancing weapon. Not fatally, barely a scratch against its steel like scales, but it was bleeding as it wheeled around swinging an ax which missed Gunny by a centimeter.

“Come on you overgrown tree lizards, show me what you got!” The sergeant taunted as another blow flicked past, he backed away from a second and a third from the advancing lizard nicked only the tiniest shards of armor and blood as he weaved between axes and sword strokes.

The ax swings slowing and faltering with a drive of his elbow into the broken snout one’s face, strings of gore following him only to be severed away as he circled around the swordsman, grabbing onto its shoulder to lift him up as he struck against its eyes and throat with a fist he’d rate up against any bludgeon. Rewarded with the unmistakable howl of pain as it jerked its head out of his reach he dropped back to the ground and sprinted past it only to be clotheslined by its tail. His world swam, blurred and red, and he reached out for balance. Felt the rough hide of the serpent-man, felt it move away, felt the sharp, icy touch of sharpen iron across his forearm and then nothing.

Stumbling away and around the hazy figure, nursing its own wounds, he squinted through his burning eyes at his arm he still could feel, twisting it towards his face and gazing at the gushing, open wound. His every pulse draining further, weakening him and soon there would be nothing left. It didn’t frighten him, training and the very facet of his chosen work hardening him against that, but long ago he’d decided how he wanted to die. Whimpering and running like an animal hadn’t been it, nor bleeding out like a stuck fodder-beast.

Bypassing the now too cautious swordsman, or perhaps merely content to watch him bleed, he rushed towards the broken jaw one with the axes. Shrieking out with all his rage as he stampeded towards the Xeno who reciprocated fully. A murky, glimmering shape in his scarlet world that was an iron blade descended to remove his head and much of left shoulder from his body and he dunked under it rushing to embrace the viper and the second ax which jumped upwards from out of sight. Gunny’s breath catching as he felt his armor melt before it like butter, felt it dig into his flesh, its more dull and less treated edge driven more by the force of its attacker than anything. Felt his being violated and heard that lovely hiss of surprise from the alien as he continued forward engorging the entire thing down to its handle in his leaking viscera. His bleeding stump catching the dumbfounded and unsuspecting creature’s broken jaw while his good hand wrapped behind it sinking in as best as he was able into the diamond hard scales covering it.

“Army of one man…” Gunny wheezed giving a titanic twist to the beast’s neck.”…but the right man…”

Releasing the monster from his touch he hobbled backwards as it simply fell away like a filled sack, reaching a trembling hand to the ax head impaled into his midsection, delicately running a hand over its elaborately decorated handle right before the swordman’s tail snapped his leg out from under him. The sounds of the shattering bone echoing through his fugue as he hopped about for a moment on one limb and than careened face first onto the ground feeling the ax dig deeper through him but only feeling something else between the rocks and his cracking armor. Fingers which felt broken and disjointed releasing the gore slick ax handle, grabbing for it as through the edge of his consciousness he made out the snake-man hanging just out of hand’s reach. Its sword held above its head for a killing stroke if required through it waited enjoying the growing crimson slick oozing out from beneath the sergeant.

“Do you take prisoners?” The squad leader coughed, fighting to breath, rolling over and exposing his blood drenched handgun.” Because I don’t.”

He squeezed his gun’s trigger, the sword fell. Fell from lifeless hands to clatter at the ground as the owner’s head was removed, sagging forward beside Gunny as he dropped flatly on his back continuing to choke. The world washing away around him and he no longer had a reason to fight back. A swirling indistinct mess from which the angels emerged hovering over him, aglow with righteous fury and more importantly energy weapons.

One with a mech face like Specs lowered itself over him, ran a squawking talisman over his body, pulled at him, tugged at him. Tore the ax free from his body which he was thankful for, even it did fething hurt, and tore open his armor which he was far less thankful for. Wishing to die like a clonetrooper armed and armored not like some hard shelled creature with its hide cracked open and its guts spilling out.

“Retreating towards the perimeter…repeat sustained heavy injuries…massive blood loss…attempted to arrest the bleeding…” Spoke the angel with Specs face.

“Hang in there, we got you sergeant.” Said one head of a two headed angel, one limply hanging off to one side, shooting over him.

Which was comforting, doubting there was anything after the life he lived and was even more sure whatever it was wouldn’t have cared about a mass produced serial unit like him. Feeling giddy, something which had never been used to describe him before, he even tried to explain this to the angel who looked a lot like Kid who knelt beside the hovering Spec faced one.

“I got him, come on!” The one who looked like Kid said right before Gunny felt himself levitate into the air.

Propelled by some mystical and unfathomable force he sensed he was moving through his mist like surroundings, tried to spread his arms and truly soar as he heard some speak off was possible in the afterlife but the bindings the mech-faced one had placed around him were too strong. He was too weak, could only glide at chest height through the swirling fog world he exhibited and then even that was lost to him as he fell into the darkness.

“I’m going to feel this in the morning.” He thought to himself in a brief second of clarity before sinking into the depths absolutely.

*

I liked this chapter the chit chat about battle tactics was informative and refreshing

Well thats a relief. I was really afraid it'd bore you to tears, after all Tyler was talking about tactics and stratagems during the commitee meeting as well. Anyway I guess I'm trying to ham fistedly show that Tyler, Krevin while both are tarnished officers are good at what they do when they actually do their respective jobs.

thank you for the shout out with this Captain Guylos

Hey no problem. I was faced with going through Wookieepedia looking for a "real" Star Wars officer, well as real as any fictional universe exists at any rate, that wasn't a total monster when it dawned on me I already had the name of a good officer.

I take it the tragedy of Admiral Korak is required reading?

More like infamous among the officer cadets for being beaten, allegedly, by the backwards and "simple" Colonials. Imperials, in my opinon, regretabbly don't learn from their mistakes as a matter of course and only more open minded officers like Tyler's cadet leader really dug into it.

The Perfect man to have at your side

Until he decides to replace you for a more efficent model. :)

in a confrontation like that it's the pieces on the chess set you feel really bad for. The galaxy being the chess set you feel bad for everyone

Tyler would say everyone is a pawn on someone chessboard and that he might as well move them for the "greater good" than leave it unattended.

you're a very detailed writer that alone makes it worth it I don't see anything wrong with your battle scenes

A thousand thank yous through I think my writing is far too dense at times, takes too long to move. I find yours and Praoe stories more fluid.

Don't worry about "talkies", as you can see my Fanfic is a talkie, sometimes interrupted with a battle or two...

Well I find your "talkies" far more interesting than my dry, boilerplate figurines talking to each other and your battles...well I really enjoy it when you do hand to hand combat.

Keep up the good work...

If I may borrow from Admiral Breetai, you honor me sir. Thank you.

[sonofccn]

“Fracking Nazi’s, reanimated dead soldiers, dinosaurs, bug aliens, it’s like being stuck in some pulp writer’s drug induced delirium. But at least it’s fun.” Agent John reminiscing over the previous week’s activities.

…through it is without a doubt your first impulse I must insist that you forgo your stupidity induced reaction and, summoning the truths I shall import to you, and realize an assault on a rebellious world is already a defeat upon itself. For through the Lord Protector’s vast legions would crush without issue any rabble such world could hope to present forth every farmer shot in senseless revolt can not grow grain, every soldier deployed to kill him can not be placed elsewhere, every missile expended a drain on his majestic self’s coffers. It has in the most basic sense delivered victory to the Protector’s numerous and vile enemies who exist upon the fringes of our great dominion, a victory granted without cost.

The battle, and for those who shall read this I assure you it is a battle, that should be wrestled for occurs before the first shot is fired, before the first angry protest enflames the populace. I have already touched upon stewardship of the Protector’s vast domain but here particularly I will dwell more fully so that this vital issue may be understood. It is a natural impulse to control, the people, the armies, the very stars of the cosmos. Far how better could you advise the Lord Protector if everything was neatly and orderly organized by some grand scheme rather than the motley chaos which it seems to abide, indeed such inclinations may be voiced by the Protector himself. You must break him of such thoughts, redirect them, or ruin shall overcome our great alliance.

As much as it may please certain indulgences to dictate across the heavens themselves it is only prudent that the worlds of our dominion know of the Lord’s Protector’s governance, beyond a few simplistic protocols, only by the ironclad protection of his armies and by its absence letting local matters be handled as such. Which is not to say they should be ignored, far from it every effort must be made that each individual world feels it has the Protector’s ear, but that the armies and resources of the confederacy are not squandered needlessly butting heads against every peasant and stirring up apathy if not contempt for his majestic rule. Treat the sheepish inhabitance like people deserving of respect, what it costs you in pride will be more than repaid in tanks not wasted taking fertile farmland.

In terms of internal insurrection with one government replaced with another the facets become more muddled and as I have stated elsewhere in this great tome there are no easy or precise answers. Only shrewd insight and cunning can guide you in choosing the stronger faction to support at the least expense to the Lord Protector’s forces. Choose wisely or choose not at all, counting not only raw military advantage but the important if nebulous support of the inhabitance. Legions innumerable filled with veteran soldiers shall wither on the vine if cut off from the populace while a government deficient in the military arts but is held in high esteem shall be like the hydra sprouting head after head.

Of course even with good stewardship and without the ghost of civil war a world may erupt into seething violence, stirred and supported from abroad. Perhaps from the soulless Aliens who wish ill to mankind, perhaps a slighted general who wishes a world of his own, or perhaps as part of some more complex weaving not yet apparent. Entire worlds have and shall burn at the beset of the courtesans, warlords and nobles as they plot intrigue against each other, a promising officer squandered in an unwinnable conflict, a prosperous world’s taxes destroyed in the crucible of war these things and more can offset the glass fragile positioning of the court.

You must of course fight these invisible battles less they tear asunder our Dominion but more than that you must bring rebellious worlds under heel. The Lord Protector’s rule is absolute and unquestionable and the fate of those who resist equally forecast. Prepare your forces with care, already you have been defeated do not allow it twice, selecting them the same as a surgeon would his instruments. The battle may be one with a simple insertion of stormtroopers removing the rebellious elements like a cancer, or a bombardment incinerating one city while sparing the rest or the infection of rebellion may be too widespread and require more prolonged actions.

Even your generals are but tools for your will, send first one who is neat and clean in his battles to try and gently coax the wayward people back to the flock. Let him fight like a gentlemen and cleanse the area, for those who resist don’t waste his time or his men fighting but allow him to bypass. Let a general of hardness, of the butcher’s school be dispensed to punish. Give him, unrecorded, free reign to act, allow him to place up his atrocities and barbarism and frighten the selected populace back. Should he fail select a general of no moral fiber, a man of death and pestilence. For these enemies can not be sweet talked back, can not be frightened from their path but there is still uses for them. Send your man of death, let him place them within walls of stone and razor wire and put them to use building parts for the war effort, have them build until they are no more. Until their very memory has been expunged and fresh settlers, victorious soldiers, are allowed to lay down stake.

As for the armies themselves your general’s lead it is important to remember terrain, battles can be won or lost based on the placement of a solitary flower or night’s rain. For this remember…Extended excerpt from Archservitor Mallus Tyler manuscript “Treaties on Subservience and Devotion” circa 55 N.E. ( 2023 AD old calender)

[Admiral Breetai]

Gunny is the greatest thing to happen to this fanfiction section man i like the last bit there great little manuscript on proper doctrine for tyrants,

[Praeothmin]

Man, you and Breetai have decided to pull out all the stops in action with your latest chapters...
Nice, intense, and chaotic, just like a real battlefield...