Nathan Bloodscrawl
House Bloodscrawl Patriarch
THIS Plays
Susevfi, Yumfla.
The Clone Offense Troopers that had been deployed to Susevfi knew no fear.
For a Clone Offense Trooper, the best way to buy time for those to evacuate was take the fight directly to the enemy.
It was why while damn near everyone was looking to get the hell out of Dodge, desperately holding positions or running for the Evac Ships, The Offense Trooper Squads pressed forward on an encroaching enemy, looking to inflict as many casualties as possible, even though, they knew that, tactically speaking, victory was all but impossible.
Offense Trooper OT-428 unleashed his DC-15A on encroaching troops, pinning down a squad of Sith Soldiers in the streets as the full fury of modern weapons equally forced them under cover. Which they could not afford.
He gave the signal to his other Squad members, and they provided covering fire, while he grabbed a few grenades and his rifle and began flanking the enemy position, using overturned vehicles for cover. He armed them and hurled both behind the pile of rubble the enemy soldiers were using. He hurled two because he wasn't sure one antiquated grenade would help against the modern armors they had been encountering (They found the DC-15A's they were using were often one of the only reliable means they had of tearing through it other than explosives) .
The blast instagibbed the Sith Soldiers and 428 signalled to the rest of his squad to come out of cover.
"Well, one squad down, a million to go." 428's Subordinate, 397, remarked grimly.
"Our Mortar's gone. Only one good shell left..." 062, their Ordinance Soldier pointed out. "My rifle's nearly dry on its canister, and I only have one power cell for it left. Recon Drone bit it too."
"My rifle is about halfway dry also. Level with us, Boss, how fethed are we?" 397 asked 428.
"Susevfi will fall. Our heavy cruiser is currently busy taking in as many evacuees as possible. There's no reinforcements coming for us. Master Bloodscrawl was wise to test us under the most severe conditions possible." 428 responded. "We shall not disappoint him."
"What if we run into Jedi?" one of their other squad mates, 290, wondered.
"Hope they have bigger fish to fry..." 428 answered just as his comlink buzzed.
"This is Strill 2's frequency..." 428 noted.
"This is Strill 1, come in..." he called out, hitting the send button.
"This is Strill 2! I got a tank bearing down on my position! We are pinned down in sector 56 Delta, I need back up!" came the reply.
"Roger Strill 2. Hang on!" 428 called back.
"Strill 2 is in trouble, and we're the only one's close enough. Double time it, Troopers!" he barked as they fell in line behind him and they moved in a winding pattern through broken, on fire streets, engaging targets of opportunity. They never stopped moving, as per their doctrine.
"This is a chitshow, Two-Eight..." 397 muttered . "Whole fethin' city's gonna buy the damn Clone Farm."
"It's what we were bred for, Nine-Seven." 428 replied. "At least there's no Gulag Plague."
"That's a bonus to you? Look at what they do when there's no universally lethal disease to keep them in check." 397 scornfully rejoined as they carefully went through a short cut between two city blocks.
"Perhaps you prefer being frozen another few centuries..." 428 replied icily.
"Hey, I ain't complaining much about the action, but what's the end goal?" 397 asked as he checked a corner. "There's only one Bloodscrawl left, and he's surrounded by freaks."
"Not our problem. We're here to inflict as many casualties on the enemy as possible. Let him worry about all those things he's surrounded by." 428 dismissed. "We aren't paid enough to worry about that. And we certainly weren't bred for it."
"When do we actually get paid?" one of their other squad mates, 743, wondered.
"One thing at a time, Soldier..." 428 replied as he used his range finder to locate the squad under attack from a fast approaching tank.
"Big Sucker. Thick armor plating. Don't think our rifles are gonna breach that..." 428 spoke, "Four-Three, get somewhere high and start sniping the soldiers supporting it's advance. If the tank turns it's barrel on you, run like hell."
"On it..." 743 replied, splitting off from the group
"Six-Two, your shell." 428 said, getting the Mortar Shell from his squad mate.
"Careful, Boss, that's High Ex. Jostle that wrong, and you won't even have time to register turning into vapor." 062 warned.
"Noted." 428 grunted. "Six-Two, Nine-Zero, Nine-Seven, You're with me...we're getting that tank's attention, one way or another..."
"Gotcha Boss..." cane the reply from his squad.
The four advanced, Red and white Clone Trooper Armor caked with dirt and blood, badly outdated by modern standards as they reinforced a badly whittled down squad of their fellow Offense Troopers, only three left, their armor heavily damaged.
428 began shooting every soldier he could spot through the smoke and flames of the burning street, occasionally pinned down by blistering amounts of return fire, one of the Survivors of the other Squad, having mounted a tripod on his rifle and switched to full auto on his DC-15A, using it as an emergency light repeater.
743 fired from a window in a nearly totally burned out building, going for headshots, as he wasn't certain the bolts of his rifle, even being powerful as they were, would be enough to get through the thicker parts of modern armor. Some of them even had shielding systems on them...
"Maybe if we make it out of here, we'll be able to afford some of these fancy new guns...this Clone Armor itches..." he grumbled.
He saw the tank level it's barrel at the building he was at and he broke into a run, diving through a gap in the destroyed building's walls into the window of another building just as the tank fired. The shockwave of the blast partly caught him and sent him flying across the room, slamming brutally into a wall as it prepared to target the building he was now in...just as 428 made a running leap out of the foxhole with the mortar Shell, tossing it like football with all his might and hitting the ground as it sailed through the air...
...right down the barrel of the tank.
428 dived into a blast crater as the tank fired, and erupted into a giant fireball, killing all the Sith Soldiers around it.
428 crawled out of the Crater, back toward the Foxhole the survivors of the other squad as well as his own were. There were only two survivors from Strill 2. 062 had been wounded, and Strill 2's medic was patching him up with the last contents of his Medkit.
"Six-Two, that's looking like a nasty side wound..." 428 observed.
"It's a grazing blow. He'll live...provided he takes it easy." the Clone Medic said.
"We ain't got time for that. Can we call in a medevac?" 428 asked.
"Not here. No way. All our LAAT's are occupied dropping off ammo resupply or dropping evacuees off at the Cruiser." 390 answered.
"Hey! 428, you still alive?" 743 called out on the comlink. "I uh...I think I got a broken leg..."
"Stay where you are. We're coming to get you--" 428 assured before he heard the whine of a TIE Bomber.
428 watched as a fighter streaked by, leveling a row of buildings, including the one 743 was in, with dropped plasma bombs.
"743! Four-Three do you copy?!" 428 called out.
No answer. After thirty seconds, 428 directed the other to help 062 up.
"743 is assumed KIA." he said quietly. "And if we don't go want to end up like him we need to get moving. Six-Two, can you still shoot?"
"Yeah Boss." 062 answered.
428 glanced down, picking up an intact Rail Detonator one of the dead Clones was still clutching. Only two shots left in the canister.
"Make 'em count. Let's find a better position to hit these bastards from..." 428 said as the others formed up on him to engage more Sith invaders...
Susevfi, Yumfla.
The Clone Offense Troopers that had been deployed to Susevfi knew no fear.
For a Clone Offense Trooper, the best way to buy time for those to evacuate was take the fight directly to the enemy.
It was why while damn near everyone was looking to get the hell out of Dodge, desperately holding positions or running for the Evac Ships, The Offense Trooper Squads pressed forward on an encroaching enemy, looking to inflict as many casualties as possible, even though, they knew that, tactically speaking, victory was all but impossible.
Offense Trooper OT-428 unleashed his DC-15A on encroaching troops, pinning down a squad of Sith Soldiers in the streets as the full fury of modern weapons equally forced them under cover. Which they could not afford.
He gave the signal to his other Squad members, and they provided covering fire, while he grabbed a few grenades and his rifle and began flanking the enemy position, using overturned vehicles for cover. He armed them and hurled both behind the pile of rubble the enemy soldiers were using. He hurled two because he wasn't sure one antiquated grenade would help against the modern armors they had been encountering (They found the DC-15A's they were using were often one of the only reliable means they had of tearing through it other than explosives) .
The blast instagibbed the Sith Soldiers and 428 signalled to the rest of his squad to come out of cover.
"Well, one squad down, a million to go." 428's Subordinate, 397, remarked grimly.
"Our Mortar's gone. Only one good shell left..." 062, their Ordinance Soldier pointed out. "My rifle's nearly dry on its canister, and I only have one power cell for it left. Recon Drone bit it too."
"My rifle is about halfway dry also. Level with us, Boss, how fethed are we?" 397 asked 428.
"Susevfi will fall. Our heavy cruiser is currently busy taking in as many evacuees as possible. There's no reinforcements coming for us. Master Bloodscrawl was wise to test us under the most severe conditions possible." 428 responded. "We shall not disappoint him."
"What if we run into Jedi?" one of their other squad mates, 290, wondered.
"Hope they have bigger fish to fry..." 428 answered just as his comlink buzzed.
"This is Strill 2's frequency..." 428 noted.
"This is Strill 1, come in..." he called out, hitting the send button.
"This is Strill 2! I got a tank bearing down on my position! We are pinned down in sector 56 Delta, I need back up!" came the reply.
"Roger Strill 2. Hang on!" 428 called back.
"Strill 2 is in trouble, and we're the only one's close enough. Double time it, Troopers!" he barked as they fell in line behind him and they moved in a winding pattern through broken, on fire streets, engaging targets of opportunity. They never stopped moving, as per their doctrine.
"This is a chitshow, Two-Eight..." 397 muttered . "Whole fethin' city's gonna buy the damn Clone Farm."
"It's what we were bred for, Nine-Seven." 428 replied. "At least there's no Gulag Plague."
"That's a bonus to you? Look at what they do when there's no universally lethal disease to keep them in check." 397 scornfully rejoined as they carefully went through a short cut between two city blocks.
"Perhaps you prefer being frozen another few centuries..." 428 replied icily.
"Hey, I ain't complaining much about the action, but what's the end goal?" 397 asked as he checked a corner. "There's only one Bloodscrawl left, and he's surrounded by freaks."
"Not our problem. We're here to inflict as many casualties on the enemy as possible. Let him worry about all those things he's surrounded by." 428 dismissed. "We aren't paid enough to worry about that. And we certainly weren't bred for it."
"When do we actually get paid?" one of their other squad mates, 743, wondered.
"One thing at a time, Soldier..." 428 replied as he used his range finder to locate the squad under attack from a fast approaching tank.
"Big Sucker. Thick armor plating. Don't think our rifles are gonna breach that..." 428 spoke, "Four-Three, get somewhere high and start sniping the soldiers supporting it's advance. If the tank turns it's barrel on you, run like hell."
"On it..." 743 replied, splitting off from the group
"Six-Two, your shell." 428 said, getting the Mortar Shell from his squad mate.
"Careful, Boss, that's High Ex. Jostle that wrong, and you won't even have time to register turning into vapor." 062 warned.
"Noted." 428 grunted. "Six-Two, Nine-Zero, Nine-Seven, You're with me...we're getting that tank's attention, one way or another..."
"Gotcha Boss..." cane the reply from his squad.
The four advanced, Red and white Clone Trooper Armor caked with dirt and blood, badly outdated by modern standards as they reinforced a badly whittled down squad of their fellow Offense Troopers, only three left, their armor heavily damaged.
428 began shooting every soldier he could spot through the smoke and flames of the burning street, occasionally pinned down by blistering amounts of return fire, one of the Survivors of the other Squad, having mounted a tripod on his rifle and switched to full auto on his DC-15A, using it as an emergency light repeater.
743 fired from a window in a nearly totally burned out building, going for headshots, as he wasn't certain the bolts of his rifle, even being powerful as they were, would be enough to get through the thicker parts of modern armor. Some of them even had shielding systems on them...
"Maybe if we make it out of here, we'll be able to afford some of these fancy new guns...this Clone Armor itches..." he grumbled.
He saw the tank level it's barrel at the building he was at and he broke into a run, diving through a gap in the destroyed building's walls into the window of another building just as the tank fired. The shockwave of the blast partly caught him and sent him flying across the room, slamming brutally into a wall as it prepared to target the building he was now in...just as 428 made a running leap out of the foxhole with the mortar Shell, tossing it like football with all his might and hitting the ground as it sailed through the air...
...right down the barrel of the tank.
428 dived into a blast crater as the tank fired, and erupted into a giant fireball, killing all the Sith Soldiers around it.
428 crawled out of the Crater, back toward the Foxhole the survivors of the other squad as well as his own were. There were only two survivors from Strill 2. 062 had been wounded, and Strill 2's medic was patching him up with the last contents of his Medkit.
"Six-Two, that's looking like a nasty side wound..." 428 observed.
"It's a grazing blow. He'll live...provided he takes it easy." the Clone Medic said.
"We ain't got time for that. Can we call in a medevac?" 428 asked.
"Not here. No way. All our LAAT's are occupied dropping off ammo resupply or dropping evacuees off at the Cruiser." 390 answered.
"Hey! 428, you still alive?" 743 called out on the comlink. "I uh...I think I got a broken leg..."
"Stay where you are. We're coming to get you--" 428 assured before he heard the whine of a TIE Bomber.
428 watched as a fighter streaked by, leveling a row of buildings, including the one 743 was in, with dropped plasma bombs.
"743! Four-Three do you copy?!" 428 called out.
No answer. After thirty seconds, 428 directed the other to help 062 up.
"743 is assumed KIA." he said quietly. "And if we don't go want to end up like him we need to get moving. Six-Two, can you still shoot?"
"Yeah Boss." 062 answered.
428 glanced down, picking up an intact Rail Detonator one of the dead Clones was still clutching. Only two shots left in the canister.
"Make 'em count. Let's find a better position to hit these bastards from..." 428 said as the others formed up on him to engage more Sith invaders...
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