Simulation Stimulation [Galactic Empire]

[Alasdair Sitra]

K A M I N O​

Keep your boots firmly planted on the ground.

The words of advice were not physically spoken, but heard by each and every single one of the white clad warriors currently huddled together in the trench line of the snowy expanse. It was a calming voice that had spoke, reassurance to a tee of what they had to do and by the damns, they would do it.

RN-4655, designation given as such for his future assignment to the Star Destroyer Ruination stood alongside the hundreds of identical white armoured soldiers. It gave them a uniformed appearance that would not be broken by a helmet being removed, each of them brothers and twins, each of them as similar to the next. For these were the clones of the Empire. A gifted workforce created for the pure reason of a military to allow the Galactic Empire to expand across the galaxy and assure that peace was created.

His helmet HUD was showing a negative display within the temperatures of the snow field, plain and boring it featured nothing but a white expanse, a featureless rug from the trenches of the Clones to the horizon where the massive constructs of Kamino rose to betray the fact that they were not on a planet native to these conditions. A simulation, set up to teach them advanced teamwork tactics.

A simulation that was just another of the countless training exercises put forwards by their Kaminoan creators. A race of doctors and scientists that were waiting eagerly to turn on the green light.

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

He still remembered what it was like living in a pod for the first few months of his life. Thirteen years ago he was created out of a few bits of DNA and the trooper swore he remembered every minute of his existence, even when he was finally taken out of incubation, he remembered hearing the voices.

"CT-7166, one of the many of the first generation clones in your order, Moff." A scientist had spoken as his droid assistant grabbed the infant clone out of his pod.

"Hmm..." A man with greying dark brown hair and a pencil mustache bent over to examine him "...Excellent work, the credits should be wired shortly. I believe I should name him...Norwan...Norwan Fleming..." The 'Moff' suggested, before turning to leave.

"Very good, sir."

"Please, call me Tanomas."

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The Imperial Major raised his rangefinder from over his eyes, stepping down from a small mound and facing his gathered soldiers in the trenches that wounded the snowy expanse. "Today we won't be fighting our own brothers or rebels on the honorable field of battle. We'll be pitted against the enemy that our ancestors faced so long ago in the fabled Clone Wars!" Major Fleming announced to the clone troopers.

"That's right, clankers. Moff Aut-X has generously provided us with an entire legion of battledroids to fight, non-lethal of course as this is a training exercise." He reported, looking down at the whole of the 501st Battalion. "But that's not it: Champions will be joining us today, influential Imperial agents and Inquisitors."

Reforms had been enacted throughout the Imperial Army, High Command had decided that their fighting force should no longer be anchored to one variant of armor, instead ordering for the old Phase I and Phase II armors be put into mass production as the Stormtrooper armor was currently, customization had also been allowed, just like how the soldiers were allowed to adopt a nickname from the start and much of the men were relieved, painting their armor the way they wanted it to be expressed.

Norwan had kept it simple, but he looked more like an Phase II Arc Trooper than a Stormtrooper Major now, and he loved it.

 

[Decimus]

Aut-X had spent several hours preparing for this training simulation. He had collaborated with the Kaminoan overseers and Imperial Drill Sergeants to develop one hell of a mock battle to keep the Empire's clone army trained and ready for anything the galaxy might throw at them. Outside the simulation chamber, several Multi-Troop Transports were quickly unloading the regiment of Battle Droids that would be used during the exercised, each one's weaponry set to none-lethal training mode as to not kill or seriously injure any of their opponents. The High Moff looked down upon the simulation arena from a platform above, alongside a small audience of Kaminoan and Imperial observers. Soon enough, the Super Tactical Droid gave his order. "Activate the droids."

The first wave quickly activated, a platoon of B1 Battle Droids led by an OOM-series Droid Commander unfolding until the stood upright, drawing forth their E5 Blaster Rifles and turning to face the energy shielded entrance of the arena. The shield soon deactivated, and the line of droids began their march forwards, unleashing a sudden volley of blaster fire as they moved towards the defensive position of the clones...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtP5lSQgll8&t=46s

 

[Tendra Daklan]

Standing above and next to the icy trenches within the simulation room, Inquisitor Garonnin watched silently as [member="Norwan Fleming"] addressed the entire battalion. It was truly a sight to behold, one that the old man never would have imagined to bear witness to. His golden armor shone as the artificial light reflected off its surface, the crimson robes that draped around his body flapping in the arctic winds. Being Thetan's first public appearance among the military of the Galactic Empire, the Inquisitor had been determined to leave a mark. He had made a request to those conducting the simulation to include the IG-SP in one way or another, having provided a small amount of them himself.

Holowan Laboratories would be furious if they knew, just like they would be furious to know that the Galactic Empire produced MagnaGuards on Geonosis. Hopefully the soldiers would appreciate his initiative. Once the shield generator that surrounded the group deactivated, Inquisitor Garonnin reached to his waist, grasping his saber hilt as he ignited the burning red blade of plasma. It rose in front of his body as he remained still, sweeping across the air with calculated and controlled movement. Blaster bolts were deflected to the side as the old man moved with surprising speed, the dark side sustaining him momentarily. Hopefully, his defense would open up an avenue of offense for the clones around him.

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

The voice of the clones commanding officer, [member="Norwan Fleming"], came into the Clone’s ear, and as if as one the entire battalion turned their attention to the Major with discipline and attention. His words gave them all purpose beyond the display of ability to the godly eyes of their creators and masters, which they all knew were watching, currently housed in observation pods high upon the ceiling of the simulation chamber.

A whirring of sound came from across the distant snow fields as the enemy, unseen and shadowy within the snow, was deployed. These droids were the age old enemy of their kind, or at least that is what was taught to all of them, centuries may have passed but the mental conditioning placed upon these new clones still held traces of those who served the Republic and the formation of the First Galactic Empire.

Minds should not be allowed to wander without purpose, another trait of genetic engineering, that occasionally showed through. For RN-4655 the mindless thinking of the past nearly lost him his chance to prove his ability as a blaster bolt, red, hot and loud, flew passed his helmeted head. It was shockingly real, even with the notable mention of it being a training exercise it still cause him and those around him to hit the lower levels, to make themselves a small target against the advancing droids who were now firing at extreme range in the hope of picking off random clones before reaching the trenches.

Their own weapons, mixtures of different types and strengths, were placed carefully where they could fire them over the lip of the trench. No trigger was pulled, or shot fired yet, not until the time was right. Blaster cartridges were valuable, as a clone it was not their job to empty them into oblivion for no reason or cause. Then the order came.

As one the clone lines opened fire, blue and red streaks of energy burning the snow away around them. A solid wall of stopping power unleashed upon the droid lines by a force who were trained, skilled and eager to prove it.

The battle was connected.

[member="Thetan"] [member="Aut-X"]

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

[THEME]​

​

Norwan dived down into the snowy trench as the red blaster bolts flew past them in disarray from the first wave of the droid army. All of the clone's combat programming up until then seemed to go inert as he could've sworn he'd seen this happen somewhere before, but not recently. "FIRST COMPANY! RETURN FIRE, CENTER!" The clone major barked at his compatriots, laying his modified DC-15AB down on the raised ground to the front of the trench, firing simulated plasma at their droid enemies. "SECOND COMPANY! CAPTAIN [member="RN-4655"]! GET ON THE LEFT FLANK! THIRD COMPANY! SAME ON THE RIGHT!"

"FOURTH! MAINTAIN REAR GUARD, OPEN FIRE!"

It was a hailstorm; In the center of the clone battle lines, the First and Fourth 501st Companies fired on the majority of [member="Aut-X"]'s first wave, the First in the trench with the Fourth above them. On the sides, the Second and Third Companies were to be using the trenches and the hilly terrain to put pressure on their adversaries' flanks. This would've been a helluva lot easier if the 501st had artillery at their disposal, but for now it was infantry vs. infantry.

[member="Thetan"]