Sorry for this being bad late and rushed...simply put in addition to my chronic laziness I've had the third worst writer's block of my life. Rather tame on action, being the first half and prelude to of an action shootfest I am really going to try this time to get done on time, and I don't know my mind seemed to wander while writting.
“No sir, craft was invisible to radar. An older gent out walking before biscuits and tea spotted it coming down, made a bloody fool out of our security eyes he did. Yes we’d dispatched a Helio-copter with a squad right where he said it touched at. The edge of Lord Michael’s estate. No sign of the ship beyond a half mile burn mark on the ground…his house? Yes sir we checked found in it an awful state like a wrecking crew had battered down the door. No survivors and…well its odd…on the wall sir there was an outline in dust like a portrait was hanging there…not destroyed but taken…no sir I’m not trying to be funny but…yes sir I realize they didn’t cross the galaxy, invade King and Country just to steal some tacky painting but…yes sir. I’ll instruct my men to hold the manor until your team can properly investigate it. Thank you sir.” Major Harper reporting on unidentified craft number forty-seven, the fifth report of a vessel matching its parameters in the last ten years.
New Hope, Stout-Fortification-That-Will-Endure-
“That’s enough Corporal.” Aphorious snapped walking towards the entrance ever so subtly tilting his head towards the sprawl of alien bodies littering the ground at his feet.” You have clean up, deal with it.”
“Yes sir.” He half heartedly mocked pulling a handle out from his armor which extended out into a silver blade, eyes hunting from its quicksilver glow to the lithe figure following a few steps back from the sergeant.” Ready?”
“ Any time anywhere.” She laughed wiping clean her own knife with a quick swipe on her armor.” What’s the wager? Half a day’s pay? Or are you feeling adventurous.”
“Whatever you feel fit to lose.” The big man cackled turning away and pouncing on the nearest alien body driving his dagger up into his belly and when it failed to respond moved onto the next most likely looking specimen.
All watched with some interest by Valor squad as they stepped out from the beating rain into the light of the bunker, shifting to a soldier of medium build and his sharp intake of breath when the shadows were pulled from Specs face. Almost at once he caught himself, prompted by his burly squad leader who turned his still mask face towards him, and forcing shock and surprise to blasé indifference pulled the corners of his mouth into a cheesy grin.
“Feth man, did you get that done on shore leave or something?” He joked playing for a reaction from the machine-man, the corner of his eyes narrowing when he received nothing but the cold stare of the cyborg.” Hey man, I just mean you must have quite a story attached to that’s all.”
“Huds I’ve already told you about your mouth, stop it before I break it off!” Grunted their leader reaching a massive paw up to remove his mask, the softly chirping counter on his forearm reading only the most minute traces of toxic chemicals, and hooking it to his belt.
A cigarra between the fingers on the rising hand and to his pursed lips being lit, rolling it around his mouth as he looked over the icemen stopping over the diminutive Jek triggering a memory from earlier in that hot, dusty day. His posture softening slightly, not that one would notice, and a smile beneath the thick plume he exhaled. Looking eagerly to the markings on Lucky’s armor to the sheet drenched landscape searching for any lingering forms out in the water soaked muck and rotting corpses.
“Shorty! So you’re still alive, maybe Smartmouth wasn’t completely full of it. Where is he, where is that unprincipled vagabond?” He demanded continuing his search.
“He’s no longer with us Sergeant.” Jek announced before Lucky could respond startling himself at the sudden spark which flared inside his being.” Specialist KT-4019 died defending me from Viper gunner, doing exactly what he promised you we’d all do.”
The words tumbled freely from the Corporal even before he realized he was speaking, memory of that final fatal shot and his composed face beneath his helmet flashing through Kid’s mind. Suddenly it was paramount that this army sergeant, dimly recognized as the one from Ironforge, understand…well Jek wasn’t exactly sure. That ’19’s death hadn’t been because of his own failure or cowardice Kid supposed feeling what motivated his speech organs but not understanding.
Finishing his piece he found the ability to clench his jaw shut looking upwards at the big sergeant unsure of what his response would be, bracing himself for the worst. His tone haven been almost accusatory in his reminding of ‘19’s boast, of his promise but instead the sergeant looked down at Kid with his head cocked to one side quizzically. After a moment he broke the stare, whatever had been his curiosity appeased, and hardened once more to spear Lucky with his frosty stare.
“Well I’m sure we both have too much work to simply stand around here gawking and trading death stories.” The Trooper squad leader said after a spell, removing his helmet wipe a slate of sweat from his pale face as he stepped around Aphorious leading his unit further inside the building.” Don’t suppose you wish to tag along, we could always use the extra firepower.”
“Orders are to disrupt and kill the enemy.” The Master Sergeant rumbled with a voice like a volcano awakening.” Linking with your squad should only further that goal as long as we don’t have any miscommunication.”
The last part placed with enough heavy emphasis for even Jek to grasp what was being hinted at through Lucky betrayed nothing on his worn and tired face. Behind his eyes proverbial gears turning in some unseen calculation before he slowly nodded his head. Shoulders seeming to stoop a millimeter less and his back growing an inch as the weight of command left him.
“I trained to be a sharpshooter Sergeant, its what I’m good at and I’m confident to return to it under your direction.” He answered returning his helmet to its perch, its faceless features adding extra potency to his ending remark.” If I lose that confidence however I’ll kill you myself, is that understood Sergeant?”
“You can try.” Aphoriusly said gracefully, laughing softly to himself as tendrils of smoke wafted up from him, extending his smoking hand across his motley group.” Now then say hello to the devil-Nexu I call soldiers.”
Despite the fanfare introductions and greetings were succinct and quick, the still slightly nervous Huds the warmest with a false mask of professional decorum as he raised a quick salute to the new comers. The rest were more blatant in their opinions of what Icemen could accomplish including more derogatory descriptors for the stormtroopers. Most of all from the big soldier who glared with cold malevolence at them as they walked past before returning to his work
“Raw meat in a can.” Drake sneered, once they passed from earshot, into his radio set as he plunged his blade into his thirteenth body receiving not even the slightest twitch for his efforts.” Dibs on their belts when they die, plastic boys always have a treasure trove on them.”
“Looks like you’re a little for the blinking one.” Val answered back over a thud and an irritatingly loud squeal of a dying Viper.” That’s lucky number seven, what are you up too?”
Grumbling indistinctly the Corporal looked up from his lifeless kill to Val, who waved once slowly with her dripping dagger, and then turning to the white armored goons who had spawned his original comment. The cluster of them standing by one of the burning pits waiting for the combusting fats and oils to subside, Huds beside them leaning over to spit which instantly sizzled to vapor in the inferno’s embrace.
The private laughing, turning towards the stormtroopers encouraging the cyborg to emulate his action before he caught himself, a sheepish grin on his face as he backed away from the machine-man’s cold stare who then returned to the quiet chirping of his scanner.
“Imaging shows nothing moving down there.” He remarked, his flat voice somehow managing to convey the uncertainty he felt.” Analyze of combustion indicates the exothermic reaction should destabilize to a safe margin in five minutes.”
“Stay sharp, these fethers move fast, they are not going to give us long when the fire dies.” Lucky cautioned, framing it as helpful advice rather than an order.” I assume your reading their biosigns, beyond the burn zone.”
“Yes…I am.” The machine-man sighed, vocalizer crackling with static trying to replicate the human action, continuing to adjust and refine the sweep of the sensors probing the lower depths.
His mood continuing to worsen from the tactical data he was feed piecemeal, slowly waving it over the blood splattered deck plating in a circle, of the level below. Of those which waited with diligence and patience listening to the heavy footfalls of the soldiers above and the throaty bellows of the stomping Master Sergeant as he divided his troops up forever and chronically urging them to finish in three or less. The fire and the alloys of the walls naturally hampering his scanner’s reach and vision but through it a grim picture was made none the less. Growing more bitter and bleak with the incremental reveals his continued movements and subtle adjustments to field width and pulse intensity brought, continuing this ever precious retrieval when he felt a shadow fall over him, felt another’s breath roll over the inflamed flesh of his neck and registered from the corner of his artificial eye a wide grin he was becoming too familiar with.
“Neat.” Huds, mimicking the cyborg’s motions, remarked staring unintelligently at the flashing lights and symbols.” So if I understood what you were saying your tracker’s copying their position down there, correct?”
“Yes.” Specs allowed adjusting his stance to widen once more the gulf between him and the private, never for a moment ceasing his scans.
“Good, what are we looking at? In terms of numbers?” He queried craning to keep his perch over the beeping device, lifting a grubby finger and pointing at a bit of script glowing on the scanner’s screen.” Is that the readout? How many is that?”
“That symbol is for power, indicating an additional two hours before it shuts down.” The cyborg corrected, his droid like voice not without its enjoyment, pulling his scanner further away from the soldier.” As to enemy forces several squads, at least.”
For the barest fraction the army private look chastised for his ignorant mistake and the obvious enjoyment in the machine-man’s voice in pointing it out, enjoyed in glorious slowness to Specs’s unnatural eyes, but then it immediately shifted to a cocksure gloating expression as he withdrew his hand. Wrapping it around the customized barrel of his rifle which he lifted and held over his chest.
“A platoon or so eh? That’s good.” He chimed as Val and a so far nameless soldier pushed their way to the front and began fastening a rope anchor to the pit’s edge.” About time we got something good in this bantha dung outfit. Isn’t that right Frost? Some real action.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The nameless soldier answered much more subdued with a not of tired exasperation at his friend looking away puffing on a deathstick as Val used a laser cutter to poke a hole into the floor.” You always say that you know? Even on bughunts, as long as you get to fire that popgun of yours.”
“She isn’t a popgun.” Huds answered with quick defense but with enough exaggerated concern to reveal the elaborate play-acting going on between the two veteran warriors.” She’s a finely tuned killing machine. Just like me.”
From where she knelt crouched Val looked up, folding up her cutter and attaching it back to his armor, eyed Huds’s rifle and shook her head with a smile. Continuing once she stood up and let Frost secure the anchor, which immediately extended magnolocks and armed gravitational compensators securing it in place.
“In war, as in life, size counts.” She purred drawing her weapon from its locked position.” And your toy doesn’t impress me.”
Tying a black rope to the anchor Frost laughed at that, drawing another cheesy grin from Huds and a warm hearted lewd gesture with one hand, which was interrupted by the Master Sergeant’s blaring voice.
“Okay people, masks on, let’s go! Drake! Val! The barbecue’s down, toss in a gas-cylin.” He commanded pushing off the last of his unit into their respective halves.
Immediate concern rising on Specs face, through how exactly it was conveyed was a mystery, along with Lucky’s shrouded visage, both looking to the sergeant who in a glance took in Kid’s and Specs’s bared faces. Tightly chorded muscles in his face working as he took it all in, drawing a long drag on his cigarra, before he made his answer.
“Your people will have to hold back. Let it disperse before you drop down after us.” He remarked.” It’s just smoke, not CN-20. You’ll be fine.”
“If we must, we must.” Lucky answered reluctantly gesturing with a wave of his hand for his team to break from the pit’s edge and its growing crowd preparing to make the plunge.
Satisfied he’d wouldn’t suffer undue friendly injuries the Sergeant growled one final command to the soldiers on this end of the room to hurry up and retreated to Drake’s side of the bunker. Leaving Valor squad to stand and watch as the twin prongs of his squad set into motion, both heavy gunners pitching smoke grenades past the smoldering floor below while another kicked down a spool of rope. A rope each of them took after firing a couple of quick, explosive shots to the deck below, men like Huds and Frost crowding around the edge taking over their fire as the heavy gunners slide away. Then those men followed relieving their duty to ones who moved up behind them and so on. Soon only Valor squad remained two of whom was drawn near the pit’s edge by the clash of battle and the soot of smoke the disturbed bed of coal and embers carelessly trod upon gushed towards the roof of the bunker. The third, with reservations, followed after his trepidations fighting a losing battle against the same maddening impulse which had driven him to speak out to the Master Sergeant. Now it tugged at his feet, compelling him to stand of the brink of a hellish world of scattering shot and blaster fire, more ominously he could feel a compelling twitch to join the deranged armymen. To prove Valor squad, to prove that ’19, were not cowards, that they could fight.
“Why?” He wondered pausing in his internal dissection to turn an eye towards his comrades, grim and silent Lucky who stood watching the brooding vapor rise up and Specs, whom he belatedly eased slightly away from, diligently monitoring the shifting and changing dynamics below them with his invisible sensors.
Seeing in both them, reading on Specs the twists and lines on the remaining tissue between the mangled hardware, the same inexplicable longing, the same nonsensical urge. It was a manifestation of idocy Jek reasoned, every fiber and muscle of his being wanting nothing more to slink away. To crawl inside the transport the soldiers had arrived in or some other safe place and wait the coming of the full armed forces. Tens of thousands of fellow Stormtroopers, feeling another prickling shock at that association, and regular army heavily armed who would sweep the fortified line away and demolish the command bunker the old fashion way. With lots of artillery guns and massive columns of infantry Jek wasn’t part of. He wanted to, thought about it, wanted to grab Lucky by the shoulder and shake him. Force into his mind the danger they were in, of the death trek they had just barely survived crossing a kilometer or more no man land to reach the blasted site only to now with only a squad of barbaric soldiers descend into the Viper den. Where they could be easily and effortlessly surrounded and wiped out, where their would be no room to run when the Snakes came for them.
These tugged at his throat to be said, burned hotly in his brain but instead he stepped back towards Specs to look at the man’s scanner, he in turn shifting it towards him to give him a better vantage point. Its lights dancing across his face as he held up a finger and pointed towards one of the many glyphs which scrolled across the screen at a pace no human eye could properly follow. Fragmentary glimpses of the machine code the cyborg used for the display, to articulate the furthest breadth of the sensory spectrum, suggesting to the Corporal suggesting to him its meaning.
“That one…its atmospheric…parts per million right?” He asked slowly, knowing what the answer would be and what it meant.
“No.” The machine-man answered looking towards Kid, a smile in his glowing eyes.” That’s temperature, falling as the fire dies away completely, the one beside it is atmosphere quality. Currently its breathable for us, through I wouldn’t recommend long bouts with it.”
“Okay then.” Kid answered with a drawn out breath, looking to Lucky who nodded.
“Lets show these uncouths how the Emperor’s Finest fight. Specs first down, Kid go after.” He ordered with an eager flourish.
Once more betrayed by himself Jek found himself scampering to the pit’s edge offering and supporting the cyborg, one who had forsaken his flesh with the artificial, as he slipped over the rim and scrambled down. Then, sensing Lucky at his back, he followed into a new circle of hell. Hot, stifling smoke rising over him stinging his eyes, around him he heard the screech of gun fire and could make out the dim glow of blaster fire while below he heard the hacking scrawl of Spec’s labored lungs. Sounding like the bellowed breath of some lava dwelling devil-grotesque awaiting his arrival. The urge to scramble back up the rope past Lucky descending somewhere above in the soot surging through him along with a sudden fear of toppling in a lake of fire, both suppressed as his body recalled the motions instilled to him in basic in climbing a rope.
Through then he’d been half frozen, propelled only by his drill sergeant screaming in his ear, instead of caked in millimeters of broiling sweat, fingers stiff and slow instead of worn and slippery. And the guns firing around him then had been set to stun, something he could be assured the Vipers would not be as obliging on. Not for the first time, releasing his sweaty grip at last dropping hard against a crunching floor of embers, his mind flashed to her. Sitting at some recaf cantina with her sketch pad and stylus idly capturing the patrons in immortality. The sinking sun shining warmly through the large picturesque windows she always sat in front of, cutting some of the chill out of the brisk fall days, the reassuring background noises of fellow students concerned with the artistic or philosophical. And like all previous it barely lingered before snapping away replaced with the steam, the stench and horror of his surroundings as he blundered through the ashy clouds off of the hot coals.
The room laid out like the bunker above, drab box, but connected in series as part of a corridor stretching forward and aft of the openings. Pushing through the smoke of dead fire bed and the depleted canisters he saw through blurred vision the army squad had secured a foothold in each of the touching chambers, held firmly there by equally entrenched Snakes hold place a corresponding box away. Something tickling at the sight of their predatory forms huddled to the ground behind their dead or tucked against the wall as he staggered almost blindly forward vomiting searing gases from his lungs to suckle at the slightly cleaner atmosphere. A hint of a thought which burst and shriveled when a dark force rose up from the ground to grab him and hurl him into the ruptured belly of a dead Viper.
“Get down Little Buddy!” Huds giggled sinking back as bullets traced over his head.” I know they train you icemen to die for the Emperor but we try to have the enemy do that. Repeatedly if we can help it.”
Looking up, the burning musk of Xeno entrails mingling in his sinuses with the tinge of fire and blaster use, Jek could only gag a verbal response. The words dying in his throat unsaid, unimportant, as he joined in with the private showering a Viper who retreated with his hide mostly intact. Again part of the Kid’s mind scratched at something, like a mad reek pawing, but again it was lost as he shifted his aim towards an alien firing from the hall corner.
In contrast to his churning and confusing inner turmoil Lucky’s was as cold as a droid’s heart dropping from the rope near its end to hit the scattering embers running. Burning specks adding stain to his armor or swimming up through the neck of his unseal suit biting him along with the thick billowing smoke which curled over him, it in turn cut through and compensated by his helmet isolating Specs crouching form, the soldiers and the Master Sergeant fighting to hold at bay the aliens on one side of the passage. A glance behind revealed Kid with and equal share of the armymen doing the same at their six.
“About time you got here.” The Master Sergeant growled pausing in his firing to jerk a thumb to Specs who crouched beside him.” Perhaps you can translate what your sweetie here is trying to tell me.”
At this the machine-man made a face, as much as he could with his ravages, and looked pleadingly at Lucky sliding down onto his belly on the floor. His rifle singing out in three concise bursts which signaled three separate aliens falling to the floor, leaving their comrades to exchange looks and then slink further away.
“I was explaining it would likely be counterproductive to remain in this position, scans have revealed this base is quite extensive and they no doubt have vast quantities of soldiers to exploit in besieging us.” Specs reasoned, voice collected and even over the convulsion rasps of his straining airways.” We should move out to secure our objectives before they have fully converged on this intrusions or I fear we may never break out of it.”
“And you lost your copy of the layout.” Lucky said nodding with understanding, corner of his vision replaced with a grayscale wireframe of the complex which slowly rotated giving him his bearings.
“Plastic boys we didn’t bring you down to chat together.” Grunted Drake poking up from a mound of dead vipers, being sure to still keep low to it however as a particularly energetic burst of gunfire went up.
Reaching up over his back he undid the clasps to the power cell removing, hurling it like a weapon across the way, and extended a bulging arm to a team mate calling out for a reserve cell. The soldier, a hawkish looking man identified by Crowe, looking up from his own gun sight to shake his head disapprovingly at the heavy gunner and the one he carried tossing it gingerly to Drake who caught it.
“I say let the filthy Xenos come, just more for us to torch!” He boasted hearing his weapon hum with life again, unleashing an explosive bolt in another breath which pushed the Viper’s completely behind the corners of the adjourning hall.
“The Empire doesn’t pay you to think Corporal! Just keep them off our backs for a moment longer.” Aphorious snarled before turning back to the members of Valor squad.” Now then, your sweetheart says you got some particulars you want to smash huh? Well then just tell us where you want to go and my boys will get you there.”
Lucky nodded, engrossed in the diagram projected before his eyes, and then raised a hand pointing behind him.
“That way…second corridor right side, followed by the first left…that’s where their radio transmitter is. We cut that and we cut the vocals to the brain. No direction from up above when the main army hits them.”
“I see and why not say…smash the brain?” the Master Sergeant asked with a hearty laugh through not one of the friendliest persuasion.
“We will.” Specs informed him.” However to do that we have to go an additional floor below, which Intel has confirmed the command room to be, fighting through whatever defenses they have erected for that eventuality. It is logical to take the radio out now, then go after the commander.”
There the machine-man paused, the glow of the eyes showing he was considering something else amid the trading blaster bolts and leaden shells. After a moment his eyes seemed to light up even more and his faces upturned to its nearest amiable shape.
“Besides. This way you and your men get to kill and blow up more.” He added humorously even through his vocalizer made it sound completely serious.
“Well that always gets our votes.” The Master Sergeant laughed, slightly friendlier, cupping a big hand around his helmet’s radio mike to help isolate it from the noise.” Huds…we’re moving your way. Want everyone to push ahead to take and hold position at the first corridor intersection. And I said hold there feth it, do what you did at Jabim and I’ll have your jorblocks understood?”
“Yes sarge.” A sardonic voice answered from across the way.” But what would you do with them afterwards?”
Chuckling to himself at the sun hot bluster that crackled uselessly from his ear piece the private saddled his gun tighter against the belly of the Viper shield he was using moving the grasp of his other hand from the barrel of his gun to its traversable slide he’d installed on the underside. Listening for and hearing the confirming click as it was drawn back and the special quiver was placed into position, following it by turning a dial above the firing stud he’d installed.
“Hey Val you like your little toy, your going to love this!” He called out leaning out over his gun peering through his until now unused scope, zooming it against the farthest target, and squeezed the trigger.
The bottom chamber belching cherry red sparklets which carried the slender flat nosed cylinder out through the air past the forward ranks of Vipers leaning around the corridor to a nasty, brutish specimen nursing a plasma wound in the back. Turning an eye towards the tiny dart which gouged into his armor and punched through the scaly skin beneath into his shoulder before its slowing mass hit enough resistance against the bone to stop. Which was also the needed force to push the detonator down inside its tiny nose cone. To Jek watching one second the creature had been there digging a taloned finger after the mostly trivial wound, the next he’d been replaced with an expanding sun. Grainy, jumbled after images fed to his brain of its expanding wall of pure white flame engulfing the alien defenders and then he was down to the ground again as hot air rushed angrily over head. Mixing with Huds’s laughter and Aphorious strongly worded discontent at the use of the high explosive.
“ Proton shell contained within an armor piercing sabot.” Huds boasted to the blinking, ear ringing Jek as well as Val as he helped haul up the former to his feet.” I can fry half a city with this puppy. What more can you ask for I tell you?”
“Too energetic.” Val scolded rising, stepping forward to the smoking corner drawing a sidearm.” Too flashy.”
Reaching it she leaned around the heated, warped metal to fire twice in quick succession at the wiggling alien threatening to rise, spun checked the corridor oppose and only then resumed with her primary weapon.
“Lacked discipline and focus.” She continued, a smug smile in her voice,as the team advanced up.” Frankly I don’t think you know how to wield it.”
End Part III
New Hope, One floor above-
I. Thought this sounded fitting.
Macintyre had been a good guy Jack thought kneeling over the former’s torn body, flesh swelled and bloated from the nerve agent and pounded raw from the harsh rain falling like spears from the sky. Actually, he had to amend rising wiping away the water which had poured over the brim of his coarse black hat, Macintyre had been an indifferent man who had done unspeakable things in the name of a fuzzy indistinct cause which in the final event even he likely didn’t actually believe in. But he cared enough to keep his work separate from his private life, to laugh at a good joke, enjoy a healthy drink or play the odd hand of cards. Deserving better then what he received, through there was a lot of that going around in the galaxy. No time to cry, no point.
Turning away from the dead, some of the dead at least, he stepped towards the broken door to the bunker and the two pimpled kids standing far too rigid at attention and who far too quickly saluted him as he passed. Holding their rifles crossed over their shoulder as taught on the parade ground, marching in sync as they fell after him just as if they moved to the beat of drums and the wafting of grand flags. Inside three more equally as young quit their inspection of the CAV to lining up and take the same pose, the tallest and meanest looking of the bunch bestowed the honor of announcing Jack’s presence to the squad leader. He a youth barely a summer older than his men kneeling over the pit’s edge, the transparent aluminum visor of his helmet pushed up out of his eyes were looked small and watery, adding his senses to the ethereal reach of the sensor pod the warrior beside him wielded. The scanner, a circular metal disc connected to long slender handle with a bulky display monitor, chirping softly to itself as its operator swung it clumsily from side to side. Unused to its weight, nervous about his balance and doing his job in front of the man in the black long coat who walked right up to them without a word.
Stopping Jack waited allowing the kneeling leader to stand and salute, nearly falling over backwards in his doctrinated haste, before gracing the anxious and determined young man with the first words since their transport had touched down in the warzone.
“Well Rixby?” He asked probing the man’s eyes and causing him to wince from what he saw in the older man’s eyes.
A breath passed from the wilting soldier before he realized the intent of the question and several more heartbeats as the man stammered, huddled with his sensor operator who talked back in hushed nervous whispers. At length they broke apart again and Rixby made himself up to his full height and most solemn decorum he could manage before at last answering the question.
“Immediate area is secured sir. No enemy agents. Human signals were detected moving across the western segment of the compound, but away from out planned route.” He rushed, tongue clicking against his teeth in a most annoying manner.” As well…possible enemy readings around them but those were inconclusive.”
“Good.” The man in black replied, eyes narrowed as he recalled the building layout.” Proceed then Rixby, proceed.”
“By your will and the beloved Emperor!” He snapped looking for a moment like he would dive in before at the last moment looking to his men still as statues watching all unfold.” Let us go men, strike a gracious blow in the name of the Galactic Empire, may we die worthy of such service.”
“In his ignoble name!” The jack booted youths answered back breaking from their neat and trim ranks into something more like a mob’s scrabble.
Enlightened from experience Jack wisely stepped from their wild path, the CompForce squad moving with drunken berserker zeal to take the descending rope. Tripping over each other, eight separate ideas on how to proceed with not taste or patience colliding and ricocheting apart, wrestling for the rope and who’d be the first one down. Flippant, boyish behavior but utterly fearless, conviction given freely as their shield and faith in the Emperor’s ways their mightiest weapon. More butcher than soldier they served their purposes just as they did now, more so then even the peerless stormtroopers they would lay down their lives in the name of the Empire. With Jack the one who pushed them into the grinder making him a Grotesque, a devil-demon from his homeworld which was said to take the animated bodies of sinners and enslave them in years proportionate to their misdeeds.
They, perhaps, deserved better than what they would receive, likely quick death or commendation and a chance to try their luck again. But there was a lot that going around the galaxy. No time to cry, no point.
“Time to go to work.” He told himself going after his belligerent squad, forgoing the rope instead kneeling and leaping down landing on the smoldering coal bed as silent as a feather.
New Hope, Point-Of-Reckoning-And-Judgment-
II. ditto.
At the signaling of one of the many technicians busying the battle bridge Sar’Ur’Ion peeled his head off of the heated surface of the rock like outcropping turning it after the diminutive button pusher who had awakened him from old memories and older pains. His sword sounding like dry wind as it skittered across the floor lifting up to point towards the technician, reminding the Strategic Controller (Second class) of another day and another battle. When the air whistled with the thousand-thousand noise of being split asunder and the ground raged by the marching of great metal feet.
“Sir…sir…contact with enemy forces on the secondary level has been achieved, units are disengaging in their advance towards the western quadrant.” The lowly button pusher stammered unnerved at what he had awoken.” But not too quickly as you instructed.”
“Understood, but what of the spikes of our trap?” Sar’Ur’Ion hissed recalling instantly the hunting pit he was goading his confident attackers into.
“They are moving into position as we speak, setting the snare before the radio transmitter which we believe they are heading towards.” The technician responded growing visibly relieved as the sword dropped back to the floor.
Dismissed he gladly curled back around his station’s rock engrossing himself in its contents, shrinking in the crowd of his peers and from the Strategic Controller (Second class)’s mind replaced with his mind eye of the battle taking place out from behind the bridge’s walls and all those which had come before. Of burning worlds and dusty valleys, shattered cities and hollowed warcruisers and things still yet to be. Glittering promises of events, like pieces on a board moved by his claw-hand. And the game was still young; much more would be shed before its victor would be declared.
“And what of our reinforcements?” He asked twisting his body towards the other end of the battle bridge, watching each of the consol users squirm at the sound of his blade dragging behind them.
“The airlifts should be in position within five sir but…we’ve lost several AA-guns and most of the rest have lost their relays to the network hampering their performance.” One of the radar operators said looking up from his green glowing screen, itself shrouded with dozens upon dozens of signals, fighting to keep his voice from running away from him as he spoke to the giant.” That is sir our assets are taking heavy losses to enemy fighters…we estimate less than three percent of the transports will successfully deliver their payload and return. In our opinion if we switched our fighters back to air superiority-“
“No!” Sar’Ur’Ion thundered, more of his vast body stirring from its rest.” I have already given them a far more important duty.”
Unspooling and raising far above the lowly button pusher but steadfast, hitting his brood had been sired by a true veteran, the hatchling did not slither away from his position instead unwrapping himself from his own rock to match the Strategic Controller (Second class)’s rise. Being sure to keep one head height lower in deference to his rank and status of course, something else Sar’Ur’Ion noted but not speak of as he gestured for the youngling to say his words.
“With respect sir I can’t see that. At your word over two hundred airlifts were dispatched to the front, their bellies filled with warriors. Those warriors now perish like vermin in the air while fighters are squandered in ground attack roles.” The technician said while the Strategic Controller (Second class) heard the groaning tear of metal from different transports from another day, smelled the scent of burning oils and fuels.
The shrill klaxons, the churning turbulence, the very heat of the ignited engines very much alive still within him as he weighed the words of his underling, sinking some of his height onto his sword’s hilt which the other mirrored, coloring his speech.
“They are too few, the enemy too liberal with nuclear warheads…any high altitude intercept would be more suicidal. For them and our transports. I will not rescind my order.” He answered without remorse or doubt.” Any further objections technicians?”
“No sir.” The button pusher answered drooping back to his comrades, curving around his rock in perceived shame.
“Very well, what of the transports ferried here personally? Where are they?” He continued of the sensor operator who consulted his screen and colleagues for the barest moment before responding.
“Three of the four selected for here have been destroyed, the last should be touching down shortly. Two full hunting packs fully prepped for close combat.” The hatchling answered bile in his voice.
Known only in his head where the death rattle of a million-million lost souls still echoed Sar’Ur’Ion praised the gaping red wound the man felt at his brothers deaths, at his finding the will to speak. Not a sniveling rock hider like the ones he surrounded himself with the Strategic Controller (Second class) made a note to delve into the man’s service record deeper should any of them survive the engagement. Something which could never be certain no matter how much one planned or strove for the sweetmeat of victory.
“Then we’ll have caught our hairless apes in the vise, should any survive the snare.” Sar’Ur’Ion hissed again pleased with himself, confident it was worthy of his old war master.
And that he would forgive him the lives of those he was sacrificing in the corridors above to lure the enemy into it, for what victory could be purchased without price?
