ARTILLERY: 30/12
ALLIES: NIO & CO | In relative proximity of Aerarii Tithe / Enedina Tal / DECEASED Erskine Barran / Major Bennett Hall / Halketh / Tyrell Lockhart / Ziroka
ENEMIES: DA MAW | Engaging walkers and NPC units under Lirka Ka / The Mongrel | NPC units engaging Maestus / UX-0626
PAX IMPERIUM
N I N E S
In the front left quarter of the trenches, a platoon released a collective sigh of relief.
For all its ferocity and willpower, the sole Maw warrior charging into the area had fallen limp to the ground a dozen meters away. After observing their fallen foe for several minutes to ensure that it was not feigning death, they turned away to secure their canteens and take cover before the nearby droid walkers crushed them underfoot. N I N E S
In the front left quarter of the trenches, a platoon released a collective sigh of relief.
Her sinew and muscle churned, forcing themselves to reconnect, meat pulsing and convulsing as she was slowly remolded once again. And for a moment, she waited. Letting in a breathe of cold air that stunk of spent blasters, letting the sweet tang of blood lick across her tongue. She was alive. And they would suffer for it.
In a flash, the beast of metal showed her true nature. Flinging herself to life once again: the Monster landed on all fours, bounding forward , like a monster a charging reek that sought only to maim and kill.
Just as the last machine gunner was leaving his nest, he froze in place. Were his eyes deceiving him, or was the Maw warrior rising from the dead? He blinked furiously, shook his head, and even took off his helmet, but the being was still rising, recently brutalized flesh reconnecting as if each chunk was a piece of a puzzle.
"It-it's coming back to life!" cried the trooper, a note of fear entering his voice.
His squadmates could sense the genuine anxiety in his voice, and instantly knew that it was far from a joke or battlefield illusion. They truly were dealing with an immortal foe.
"Return to your posts and give the undying monster everything we've got!" ordered the trooper. "We need to pin down that thing for as long as possible. If it overruns our part of the trench, our entire first line could be in danger. Let FN-999 know about this immediately."
A fresh new wave of rifle and machine gun fire erupted, all directed at the rapidly advancing Maw elite. They fired with reckless abandon, knowing that they could never "waste" extra plasma bolts on an enemy with the curse of revival after death. All that mattered to the platoon now was preventing the cursed warrior from entering melee range, where it would surely be unstoppable in the face of mere combat knives.
Another explosion rock the commander bunker, reinforcing that the politician had long overstayed his welcome. Time was running out.
“My good man,” the Vice Chancellor said, turning again to Nines. “Could I so bother you as to request a priority transport be summoned? I fear my time in your fine company is nearing an end.”
Two trench lines back in the command bunker, FN-999 was reminded of a brutal reality.
There was a Maw superweapon in space, a cannon with the power to destroy entire planets. Reports had come in from air wings recording the destruction of a large portion of a fleet in the first blast of the armament, and guesswork was barely needed to figure out where it would fire next. Ultimately, holding the trenches would be in vain if they were all atomized in an instant.
"Very well, I'll call up part of our relief force to get troops off the ground." replied FN-999. Additionally-"
Then she began towards the bunker once more. Moving even faster than most are ever capable of.
"Lieutenant Legion Commander, a small group of Maw elites with Force aplitude have snuck through the first trench line and are currently fast approaching your location." reported a lieutenant of his. "Additionally, Chiss auxiliary allies lost visuals on them less than a minute after they crossed the trench and a undying foe approaches our first line. How should we defend ourselves?"
FN-999 first turned to face the Alliance's Vice-Chancellor, the most valuable person in the room by a long shot. The lieutenant legion commander had always had mixed feelings towards the Galactic Alliance, but now was not the time to remember national grudges extending back decades. Indeed, time was of the essence.
"Vice-Chancellor, a small detachment of the 409th will personally escort you off planet while I hold the fort here." stated FN-999. "If I don't catch up with you later to retrieve my troopers, assume that I died with the planet. I wish you the best of luck."
Grabbing a master key from the pocket of his waist belt, the lieutenant legion commander gestured to a dozen idle troopers and their equipment strewn across a distant corner of the room. As they rose and armed themselves with rifles and machine guns, FN-999 slid the key into the back of the exterior lock and watched as the automatic steel doors slid open, revealing a dirt-lined tunnel leading up to the snowy line of the rearmost trench.
"After you."
"I say again, Officer Iʀɪᴢɪ'ʀᴏᴋ'ᴀᴍᴍɪ, Aide-de-camp to Irizi'ro'kanto, requesting target on Papa Quebec Zero Five Nine Zero Nine Eight Zero Three.... eight degrees, two-hundred meters. We've got an enemy sniper taking out NIO machine gunners and Chiss soldiers!" She broadcasted this on a wide frequency for the allies.
For the first time in hours, FN-999 had a swift and succinct response.
[Officer Iʀɪᴢɪ'ʀᴏᴋ'ᴀᴍᴍɪ, this is Lieutenant Legion Commander FN-999, currently overseeing the defensive trench lines. I currently reassigning four stormsnipers to the coordinates you listed to deal with this hostile threat.]
As skilled as their opponent was, surely the combined firepower of four of the New Order's most accurate elite long-range marksmen would spell their foe's demise. The four troopers marked by their distinct blue pauldrons were already stationed in the second line of trenches, and merely had to clean their scopes of small snowflakes before they were fully prepared. Each positioning themselves four to ten meters apart from each other at random distance and height intervals, they together scanned the plateau through their sniper scopes, searching for a hidden shooter.
"You're the commander of this garrison, but my men do not suffer as yours do. The forward line is collapsing inward, even with reinforcement, it's time to fall back. My army will hold the line until the living are clear. Sith Lords encircle us, above and coming around from the flank. They will not be stopped as their cannon-fodder has been and this carnage will do naught but fuel them. Take this time, this reprieve I offer for your men, to make preparations to fall back to the next trench and regroup. The Perished can hold the line, over."
With a slight shock, FN-999 realized that the infamous lord of the dead had finally made an appearance. He had first seen the lord's unnerving powers over death itself on the battlefields of Bastion, where hordes of undead soldiers had thrown themselves at Sith legionnaires while shrugging off wounds fatal for any living human. The addition of his wisdom and power would give him all the incentive he needed to begin a withdrawal, which had the added benefit of allowing for faster planetary departure.
[I appreciate your wisdom, my Lord. All 409th Regiment and allied units in the first trench, fall back to the second line IMMEDIATELY. We are nearing overextension, and will likely soon need to be lifted offworld before it is liquidated. All artillery in the second line should fall back to the third before resuming fire on the thinnest spots of the industrial walkers. Almost all of the city's residents behind us have been evacuated, and our mission is nearing its conclusion.]
[Execute Scorched Earth Protocol.]
Placed deep in the concrete bunkers scattered across the first trench were hundreds of meter long cylinders of highly explosive C4. Every trooper unoccupied with holding off advancing Maw waves rushed to grab a cylinder, placing each one about ten meters apart from each other. Combined, their blast radius would consume the entire trench, turning the row into a long and muddy crater of scorched rock rather than a defensive line with useful equipment laying in wait. Even the machine gun nests were abandoned, as they too would not be spared in the detonations. To ensure the total destruction of each of the four bunkers in the first line, ten sticks of C4 were placed in each. After a mere five minutes of efficient placement, the job was complete.
"Fall back! Fall back!! Fall back!!!"
Wasting no time, nearly two thousand troopers of the 409th Regiment suddenly abandoned their positions and engaged the mutual timer for every stick of C4 stored in the first line. They had two minutes. A mass of helmets sprinted across the depths of the trench, barely avoiding stampedes as they entered the connector trenches and joined their fresh comrades behind them. About thirty more sticks were thrown into the connector trenches as the last troopers passed, seeking to blow up any easy path into the second trench. The last displaced trooper of the 409th safely entered the second trench with twenty seconds remaining.
Ten seconds.
Five.
Three... two... one...
A boom louder than five hundred artillery cannons shook the entire plateau. Towers of dirt and flame shot up dozens of meters into the air, the first row of trenches and its connectors completely obscured by a cloud of dust. The rising dirt soon found itself combining with flash-melted snow to form a deep and thick layer of mud, likely to greatly impede any immediate advance.
Raising the volume of the sound dampeners in his helmet once again, FN-999 awaited the next move on the battlefield.
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