The Battle of Salamis

[Lord Gaius]

The Battle of Salamis

The jungle relented before them. Hasjo Hallu, Knight of the Silver Jedi Order curled his green skinned, webbed hand around the hand rail above his head. The bay doors of the LAAT/i opened up, revealing the bowels of the vessel to the morning air. The Nautolan leaned outwards, glancing down to the slowly rolling Sixth Battalion. He looked up into the atmosphere, remembering the days prior where every second was an uncertain fate. Great fleets collided in space above the planet before ground forces could be secured on the planet, and with the tiny fleet of the Silver Order, they were outnumbered greatly. Even now as they journeyed through the jungles, they were outnumbered by insurrectionist forces. They had left too few companies behind in the safety of the mountains. His immense, lidless black eyes soaked in the sight of the beauty before him, yet he could not truly appreciate it. For his mind was troubled by the absence of a being. A friend.

Two Delta 7 Light Interceptors slashed across the void of space. One orange, the other blue. They intertwined their flight paths together as they dodged laser turrets and incoming star fighters. Together the Jedi Knight Hasjo Hallu and Jedi Padawan Cal Patao were leading the approach on Chaeronea, behind them were a variety of mismatching cruisers and frigates. Most of which were of Mon Calamari nature, the Nautolan having struck a deal with them. Hasjo snapped his head left, fire licking out towards him as an explosion tore through his companions Delta 7. The Kel Dor looked back towards him, cursing under his breath. They shared a moment of knowing what was to come. The Kel Dor gripped his controls, but he shouted in frustration "My systems are fried!" More blaster fire tore through his interceptors plating before Hasjo could react. The blue Delta 7 turned into a fiery ball as it began spiralling out of control, end over end. The last words of the Kel Dor echoing in his mind. "I can't hold 'er!"

The LAAT hit the ground with a heavy thud, snapping Hasjo out of his daydreaming. The Jedi Knight gently eased out of the ship onto solid ground for the first time in two weeks. He stood with a silver cloak draped over his shoulders. His black boots already thick with mud. He wore a light grey tunic and dark grey trousers, with a metallic belt around his waist holstering his Lightsaber Pike. The Nautolan approached the temporary Forward Command Centre, of which by nightfall would vanish from sight, once more on the move. They knew they were outgunned, outnumbered and outmatched. They would rely on ancient tactics if they had any hope of winning, even then, that hope was small among the men. Hasjo would need to raise moral.

Commander May saluted the Jedi, offering him a firm handshake. The Nautolans large hand encompassing the entirety of the much smaller human hand. The Commander slid the old green-coated Phase II helmet off of his head, revealing the scarred face of a veteran who had seen too much. His eyes no longer possessing the twinkle of youth that many young soldiers held. No, that trait had faded long, long ago. Together they marched across the platform where a series of Captains and First Lieutenants had been awaiting Hasjo's arrival. First Lieutenant Katar began to run them through the briefing. He motioned to the table before them, a holographic map bursting to life. "Alright gentleman, welcome to Operation: Bite the Bullet. We've got Anti-Air defences situated to the south of our location in the mountains, with Walkers and Infantrymen in the hillsides for defence. Those boys aren't expecting trouble, and we damn as hell hope they don't find any until we're back." Katar motioned his hand across the map "We've got ourselves into a tight situation. Local insurrectionist forces have quite the force amassed, larger than ours. But we may have an advantage here, boys." He pointed an armoured index finger to a city "Salamis, nothing too big, but also nothing too small. Commander May recommends with great interest that we get our artillery into those streets, split our forces down into companies of eighty. We hole up in some buildings. Get the artillery to fire some rounds into designated targets. The enemy will come running, companies will await for the enemy to pass their location. Then, take them from behind. Once we've scattered the forces, we need to scramble, move our artillery quickly and re-assemble elsewhere. We cannot be pushed out of this city. But if artillery is lost, I have good authority to state that all forces are to immediate evacuate out of the city, and rendezvous at this location." He snapped a finger into a dense jungle.
"First Lieutenant, if I may. Say we're forced to our rendezvous, what are our plans from there?"
"I'm glad you asked, Lieutenant Pasang. If we do rendezvous, we'll be taking whatever infantry forces we have scrapped together to continue our ambushes. Tire the enemy, thin out their lines. Sixth Battalion knows the drill."
"Very well, First Lieutenant Katar. I'll take Juliet Company and keep the artillery secure" Hasjo spoke with clear authority. The others nodded in agreement, Katar and Commander May giving him a tight nod in agreement. "All dismissed" May ordered.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Horatio leaned over a journal. The nightly rain was coming down hard, and he did the best he could to prevent the water from destroying his precious but delicate paper-back book. An old and primitive form of writing - many considered. But Horatio preferred it over datapads. He felt it was much more personal and private, contrary to the hackable technology that was the datapad. He glanced to his right, the Sixth Battalion lined up against the trenches. The heavy artillery pieces had been quickly hidden in the jungle, covered in foliage. He heard the quiet mutterings of Commander May beside him, speaking to a holographic Hasjo Hallu of whom was transmitting from three clicks away. Above their heads was a great fleet, amassing their forces. It was perhaps the single largest amassed army Horatio had seen in his life, and it made his heart sink. He glanced back to his journal, scribbling words from pencil to paper. "It's hell here. It was supposed to be a four weak operation, but the Commander says we won't be leaving for a while. Our fleet went dead, not a word from them. And the Jedi Knight is investigating a crashed ship. May says he thinks it is ours. There's so many others here, all contending for this planet. I don't know if. I'm scared. I'm really scared. I just want to go home. I love you Dad."

The Sixth Battalion was nought but an ant to a human, as they were to this fleet. Horatio hadn't seen much inside the cruiser as they entered atmosphere, but he heard the explosions. The cries of terror. If he had seen the fleets engaging in combat above this planet, he doubted he would have had the courage to continue on. Even now he doubted himself. But he had to continue on, this was no longer for some political game the Jedi wished to do over restoring peace, order and balance in this system. To Horatio, this was about keeping himself, and his friends alive. He wouldn't let them down, and they wouldn't let him down. He hoped. He prayed. Oh how he had spent the nights praying. Horatio reached up, and against protocol, he removed his Phase II helmet. His eyes adjusting to the darkness. He quickly swiped away the salty tears that had begun to well up around his eyes. Commander May suddenly moved past him in a low crouch, clasping a reassuring hand on Horatio's shoulder. Horatio looked to May in that moment, as a man would to a Guardian Angel.

May Vortigern lumbered past the young man, Horatio Padrig. The elderly veteran recalled the young man on his first day in basic training. He had high spirits, and a smile that was contagious. Now, the nineteen year old sat in a pile of mud, hunching over a paper-back journal as he scribbled with tears. May wanted to do everything he could to change the circumstances they were in, but he couldn't. They signed up for this. To be soldiers. Maybe not the horrors of war, but to be heroes. He regarded the Sixth Battalion cooly with a craned head, glancing over his shoulder. They were trained in unconventional warfare. They had seen some of the roughest campaigns in their time, but this, this was different. He could feel it in his bones. Unidentified gunships, star fighters and frigates zoomed overhead. Luckily their few numbers hadn't been seen yet. The vessels were heading far north. Great armies of immense size were assembling. This planet overnight had become a staging point for total war. Then someone yelled out "Contact!" and the man behind May swore. He looked to Horatio, and an explosion tore through the trenches. Fire and black, acrid smoke tore through the young boy. May was thrown back into the mud. Looking up, he saw only the dirty remains of a Phase II helmet. Horatio was gone.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Their suspicions had been confirmed. Hasjo Hallu stood before the crash site of a Silver Order Cruiser. He looked to the portable holographic transmitter, reporting the findings to Commander May. Around him were a dozen troopers and a single Commando, the only one in the entire Sixth Battalion. "Commander May, we've located the vessel. As you thought, it is ours. The hull was damaged and made victim to vacuum. All members onboard are dead, Commander. We'll retrieve the navigational data and return pronto."
May said "Ill news, sir. We've dug out trenches and are keeping minimal light in our sector. We've got approach vectors from various unidentified ships. They seem to be ignoring us, or they hadn't spotted us on their scanners. Another problem, our scouts haven't returned for an hour now. They're never late."
Hajso gave a quick glance into the sky where ships were descending through the atmosphere. "Very well Commander. Keep your heads down, yours blasters ready and may the Force be with you." The Nautolan hulked over to the ship, slowly descending into the knee-high murky waters. Rain gently tapped against his skin, refreshing him. He glanced back to his soldiers and gave the signal to hold. He entered the ship through a busted cargo hatch. He moved through the darkened metallic corridors. His immense eyes soaking in all the light they could, providing him with a greater sense of direction. He glanced down when his foot nudged something. An officer in a matte grey uniform lay dead. He looked further down the hall, there were dozens of them. They had all died. He knew that, but seeing it was something else.

Entering the bridge he was faced with a gruesome sight. The viewport had been eviscerating by blaster fire. Bodies lay strewn across the desk, blood soaking into the cracks on the floor. He walked forward, the distinct sound of a foot walking in a puddle could be heard. His twin hearts felt as though they sunk. The thought that the puddle was not water, but blood. It was a most horrible sight of war, but one he would and must endure. He cared for his soldiers, and he would not allow the remaining Sixth Battalion to suffer the same fate as those onboard this vessel. Moving to the navigational computer, he tore out the crystal disc and began to flee from the ship. He had to leave this place behind. Manoeuvring his way around the many corpses, he found himself once more under the moon light at the end of the cargo hold. The soldiers began to step forward, seeing in the Nautolans eyes that he had witnessed something unspeakable. They offered him reassuring pats on the back, firm squeeze of the hand on the shoulder. And the thrown in "Good job, sir. You're doing us proud." Hasjo regarded them, seeing in their eyes that they saw him with deep and profound respect. He didn't need the Force to tell him that.

They marched through the jungles silently. On the look out for anything. They came into a clearing where the trenches had been dug. Hasjo's great and wide vision allowed him to see all, and focus on individuals. His ears picked up the words "Contact!" and he looked to the sound of the voice. A human male stood with his stomach against the trench, and beside him sat a young man, no older than perhaps nineteen or eighteen. In his hand he clutched a paper styled book. He thought it odd. He remarked on the mans distant, blue eyes as that of a person who had seen too much. An explosion tore through the trenches, right where the boy had been sitting. Hasjo was thrown back, end over end before coming to a halting crash in the mud. Spitting out the soggy soil, he shrugged his dirty silver cloak off his shoulders and stood. His lightsaber pike bursting to life with a familiar hiss and the cerulean plasma. He saw them, hiding in the darkness. The troopers may not have seen them, but Hasjo could as bright as day. He broke into a sprint, ready to disarm the threat before anymore lives could be lost.

 

[Lord Gaius]

First Lieutenant Katar marched through the chaos of a new dawn. Strewn like carrion feed were the corpses of the Sixth Battalion. They were outmatched. Every single one of them knew that to their core now. But it was too late to turn back. Katar caught from the corner of his eye, the large form of the Nautolan Jedi crouching beside a man missing an arm. He was cooing him into a self, restorative sleep. He was trying to subside his worrisome bloodloss, but the green creature was a Guardian, not Healer. They all knew his ferocious skills with the Lightsaber, and they too knew his poor, lacking skills in the Force. The creature cared about his troopers. They all felt it. They were like family, but like a family, when loss struck them, it shook them to their foundations. Black ash drifted from the sky, gently resting upon their faces and shoulders, and upon the dead. Fires remained alive, not yet smothered. Katar shouted out through the deafening silence that haunted them all "Body count"
"Thirty-six dead. Forty-nine injured." Pasang answered.
"Bag the dead. Get their names, have some soldiers cover them. We don't have time for a funeral." It was harsh, and one of the soldiers flinched at the thought. But it was true. If they stuck around to bury them all, they would be beset once more by the insurrectionists.

Commander May slouched over the body Captain Talet Bsala. Now at peace was he who had sacrificed so much in the name of peace, order and balance. May reached down, pulling the dog-tags from around his neck. He spun them between his fingers, knowing well what they said. He planted them to his forehead, leaning over the man. He gave out a silent prayer before returning the tag to the mans neck where they would remain sitting. He felt like a disgrace rummaging through the Captain's ammunition pouches, tearing them away from his waist. But it was now crucial to their own survival with a lack of supply line. This was going to be a long and bloody war. They would need the ammunition until more ships come in for supply. It wouldn't be for another week or two. Perhaps longer if they can't break through the fleet engagement lines in orbit. May stood, shouldering his blaster rifle. He nodded to Katar who was organising the injured for transport. Tossing a glance to the Nautolan with an injured man. His clawed finger reaching for his neck, only to find there was no pulse. He had passed on. Hasjo called "Thirty-seven."

Jedi Knight Hallu stood. He towered over the body of the man he had tried to save. Yet there was no hope, they had not the appropriate medical facilities to treat his wounds. He had merely delayed the inevitable. Yet he felt he had failed. He knew the man would die, but Hasjo had failed. He returned to the side of Commander May, giving reaffirming nods to his men. Their spirits raising only ever so slightly. Hasjo spoke with May, no longer in the tone of formality and seriousness that the Nautolan was so often known for. "May, you and your men don't have to come with me. I know I can't do it alone, and I will do it regardless if I am alone or not. It is my duty in life. But it is not yours. You and your men should turn back before it's too late."
"With all due respect, Hasjo" May referred to him by name "Our duty as soldiers is to protect our commander and accomplish our objective. If we were to turn back, we would be accomplishing neither. I understand, though. I understand" he trailed off, thinking on the dead. Many of whom he had known for years. Some, decades. Katar approached with a half-attempted salute. "Commander May" he nodded to the trooper. "Sir" he nodded to Hasjo. "I've sent out more scouts to look for those missing. We're not too far from the city now. We should be there by mid-afternoon tomorrow."

 

[Lord Gaius]

The following morning they came upon the town of Gwandalan. It was a grotesque place. Few buildings remained standing. Fires remained burning in the far corners of town. Black smoke that threatened the lung and concealed the eyes filled the air. Slowly the Sixth Battalion came marching through town, their heavy artillery in the middle of their ranks. Commander May, First Lieutenants Katar and Pasang took point. Hasjo had confirmed there were no other life forms in the vicinity - but one. The crackling of flames alerted their ears to the nearby fires that licked up into the air. Hasjo was not concerned about the single life form, and would have joined them were it not for a patrol he had partaken in. The troops seemed to be enjoying the Jedi accompanying them more regularly on mundane tasks such as scouting parties and dog-watch during the nights. It made them feel equal. Their morale had taken a massive battering since the very beginning of the operation, but it was slowly rising.

A pebble bounced down onto the street from a collapsed building. Someone coughed from within the building, and from out of the ruins crawled a small child. No older than four. She was bruised, battered and dusty. The small female Mirialan shuffled her feet as she approached the soldiers who slowly let their guard down. She was frowning at them in fury. They stepped back cautiously. They looked to one another, knowing full well they all could feel it. The child threw her arms down in a tantrum, shouting at the top of her lungs "Leave me alone!" Suddenly the blasters they had been gripping flew out of their hands and onto the ground. She was Force-Sensitive. It was no wonder the weak force user that was Hasjo had picked her up. She was strong. May rose his hands in surrender to the small child "We don't want to hurt you. We've come to help you. Where are your parents?"
"I said leave me alone!" she threw out a hand, and May could feel something gently push against him. Nothing strong enough to topple him, but enough he was forced back a step. Katar reached for his combat knife, but Pasang quickly stopped him. Cautious of the child. They couldn't shoot her, but if she wouldn't let them help her. There was nothing they could do.

The Sixth Battalion continued their march uninterrupted through town. All the while the Mirialan stared them down with anger, pain, hatred and suffering. When they had all but passed through the town, moving onto the city. She began to relax, crying and returning to her hovel. Where beneath the immense weight of a building lay her parents. Crushed. The sound of a roaring speeder bike broke the quiet town, and the girl returned to the streets. Hasjo sat on the seat of a BARC speeder, the rest of his patrol racing past him. He threw his leg over the seat and hopped off. He marched towards the girl, squatting down. She knew he wasn't a soldier. He didn't have a gun. Not like those people that did this to her family. "My name is Hasjo, what is yours? Youngling."
"Mia" she answered softly, tears dripping down her plump cheeks.
Hasjo reached out with his similar skinned finger, wiping away the salty water. "I can help you. I saw what you did to those soldiers. I'm like you. There are others like us. I too know what has happened to your family, but, the others that are like me and you, they can be your family."

 

[Lord Gaius]

The Omega Protectorate freighter launched into the air, it's propulsion drives whining loudly. They had discovered the location of Omega Protectorate forces to the south-west of their location. After acquiring transmission channel access, the Jedi Knight Hallu had been quick to form an alliance with them in the agreement they shared a common enemy, and common goals. The force-sensitive child had been retrieved by Omega forces and were attempting a blockade run. It was safer to risk the run, than to stay on the planet where should would no doubt die. Hasjo could not spent his resources defending her, nor could he leave her to an unknown fate by leaving her alone. She was only four. She would be taken to the Silver Jedi Order, not directly to Voss to avoid the Protectorate from knowing of their Temple, but to Orto Plutonia. There, a friend of Hasjo's by the name of Lysle Rigger would retrieve the child and return her to Voss where she would stand before the council and begin training as a youngling. She would find a new home, and learn to control the anger within herself. The Nautolan was content with his decision, and the others agreed it was the right thing to do. That they would have done the same in his boots.

The jungle was full of small roving camps. Each stood a group of troopers that enjoyed their lunchtime with merriment and laughter. The injured had also been taken by Omega forces and would be taken care off. To which they had the undying gratitude of all the Sixth Battalion. Commander May and First Lieutenant Katar stood around a small crate where Pasang and another officer, Lily sat. Pasang spoke "Hey, Commander, you hear whats been on the holonews as of late? Before we shipped out."
"What, about that cult they found in Omega territory?"
"Yeah, can you believe that? The father apparently used to get his cultists friends around and beat the kid up on a daily basis. His own son, since he was four. Can you believe that? What a lunatic. I'd sock him one if I got the chance."
"Aye, I read they indoctrinated him into the cult from the moment he could talk. They still haven't found the kid, he should be twenty-eight by now."
"Poor man. He needs help. Needs to be put in a hospital, you know?"
"You're one to talk" May quipped to the laughter of his comrades. They shared this precious memory together. Where they didn't need to worry about the threat out there. For now, they enjoyed a good meal, with even better company.

As predicted, mid-afternoon they had arrived. The sun set on the horizon with a plethora of colours dancing across the sky. Pinks and oranges blending together. The soldiers couldn't spare a minute to appreciate the beauty of the planet. Their boots thundered in unison like the beat of a drum. They poured into the city streets. They needed to act fast before all light was gone. The artillery had to be set. The city was larger than expected. Skyscrapers reached up into the heavens above. Though was there an eerie silence that befell the city. There were no speeders or aircraft. The place was devoid of all life but the Sixth Batallion. Though that would not last for long they felt. Commander May led the majority of their forces alongside Hasjo down the main road, whilst Katar and Pasang both flanked West and East with two companies of eighty each. They would set up a series of land mines and ambushes through the city streets. Utilising minimal numbers and many dozen squads of ten men each.

 

[Lord Gaius]

A soldier shouted "Incoming, get down!" A missile came rocketing out from a skyscraper, barreling towards one of the squadrons on the street below. Eight of the ten troopers were taken in the blast, ripping through plate and flesh. Blaster rifle tore through the air. Red and blues exchanging fire as the cries of pain echoed in the streets. "All batteries, open fire!" Commander May ordered with the signal of his index and middle finger to the building in question. Before another word could be spoken, all three artillery cannons fired upon the building with eviscerating rounds. Rubble and speeder-sized slabs of titanium came hurtling down from the skyscraper, crashing to the ground with great force. Dust filled the streets like an incoming wave, washing over them. Their vision became impeded. May couldn't see ten feet in front of him. "Spread out, spread out" he ordered, waving his hand to the sidewalks. Troopers began abandoning the roads, running into buildings. Those that were closed weren't locked for very long, with the shooting of the locks and a boot to the door, soldiers were rushing inside.

Rain once more flooded the streets at night. Hasjo wondered if it ever stopped raining. Not that it bothered him in the slightest, he was amphibious after-all. It was his troops that didn't like it. Juliet Company had split off from Commander May some thirty minutes after sunset. Then he heard it, explosions and fire. A thunderous boom. He turned his gaze to a lanky tower, two entire levels had been demolished by artillery fire. He looked down the street they were heading towards and saw the first signs of an approaching army. "Move, move, move" Hasjo ushered to Juliet Company quietly. They quickly fell into a crouch, stalking over to a nearby mall. Hasjo ignited the cerulean plasma of his lightsaber with a familiar hiss, puncturing the door. They gently eased it aside and moved in. They heard nothing, all was once more quiet in the city. All but for the march of boots. Hasjo led them up and walkway and onto the higher floors. A simple tactic that would afford them an easier victory, if it could be won at all. They positioned to the windows, staying out of sight. Hasjo was handed a blaster, a weapon he rarely used but the situation required it. He waited for the perfect time to strike.

First Lieutenant Katar spied the fleeting bodies of Juliet Company, and too saw what they fled from. The first sighting of a massed insurrectionist force. "Stack up" Katar barked with determination and authority. No hint of fear in his voice, though his body was ready to shake with in it. He began to jog forward, alongside the eighty troopers with him. They began piling up against whatever cover they could find, rubble, pillars and in doorways and windows. Juliet was three blocks up from them, they needed to draw the enemy close to them. Surround them and prevent a retreat. They huddled quietly, all that could be heard was their own breathing, the pounding of their hearts and the faint drizzle of rain. They were getting closer, the beating of boots upon asphalt. Katar took the charge, he turned the corner and before he could even sight a target, he opened fire. Volleys of blaster fire followed his attack. The vanguard was gunned down in a matter of seconds before the insurrectionists could realise what happened. They screamed, shouting curses in a strange tongue and yelling orders. They ducked for cover. Juliet company smashed open windows, leaning out of them and began to open fire on the insurrectionists backs. They were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Katar fell to a knee and burst off a few rounds into the gullet of an enemy soldier.

 

[Lok Jorunn]

Operation: Shattered Dawn​

Theme​

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All glory, all honor​

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"Get us down there now!" The Valkyri screamed above the insect-like thrumming of the heavy twin engines of the LAAT/i. Wearing bits and pieces of the armor that the soldiers beside him were adorned in didn't help comfort the man in the very least. Modern battle was a very scary thing, and especially when riding steel contraptions into such an event. Trembling fingers locked around the cylindrical hilt of a finely polished piece of metal, taking easing himself into a state of pure focus and adrenaline. "Heaven, help us in all our battles. Heaven, stand beside us. Heaven, make room for us." Lok's voice shook, his fingers lost their hold on the saber. In one quick motion, he nearly doubled over and threw up from the sheer fright of going to battle for the first time in his entire life.

But someone caught him.

Victory is upon us.​

​

A soldier to his left leaned forward, catching the man before he fell. Black gauntlets tugged his form into a parade ground posture. "Don't worry, sir. We're the best." Lok stared back into the T-visor of his, not believing what he saw. Men who were prepared to die for others. They were the true heroes, not he, a weak man who shook at the mere thought of battle. "Sir, ETA is 2 minutes." The soldier spoke again, his deep and gruff voice nearly sounding non-human behind that helmet and voice amplifier. "I will not falter." The man told himself, sucking in a deep breath of air as the landing bay doors of the gunship opened up. Black puffs of smoke and debris snapped into reality. Lok squinted at them, not really knowing what they were or what they did. That is, until one came next to him.

It exploded right in front of him, throwing shrapnel into the plastoid gauntlet of his and rocked the gunship to the side as well as the one flanking them. "What the fu-" A double barrage of the blasts sent him and the rest of first platoon stumbling backwards. "Anti-Air! Pilot, get us down now!" Another trooper shouted, hanging on to the ceiling harness for dear life as over half a dozen larties zoomed towards the city. "Copy that, prepare for rapid disembark. Backfire speed, quad zone attack pattern."

"Stryker 2-3, this is command, do you copy? Over."

"Command, this is Stryker 2-3, we copy. Over."

"Stryker 2-3, you are to assault the city via fast rope. Secure checkpoints Bravo and Sigma, watch for blue on blue fire. Copy? Over."

"Solid copy. 2-3 out."

Lead us to a greater calling.​

​

Gamma Company hit hard and fast. Despite the anti-air flak cannons, they'd only lost a single gunship out of eight. Being the mountain troops they were, fast roping was a second nature to these famed individuals of the Sixth Battalion. Small arms fire came from literally every direction as the men of Gamma dropped down on to he skyscrapers and rooftops, returning fire with almost ice-like precision. The red stripes down their armor became a testimony to their effectiveness as the streets began to run with a similar colored fluid. At the helm of such a band of brothers, was the newest addition to the Silver Jedi Order. A man who'd not yet proven himself in combat nor the trials of the Jedi way, but was well on his journey to greatness.

This very man who'd been literally shaking in his boots now rushed automatic weapons positions with the frenzy of an experienced warrior. Not so great in skill with the glow-sword that he fielded, but rather in leading the pushes forward personally. It was in his blood. The calling of a warrior, a hero. The mere sight of a fearless one such as himself was a sight to behold, especially to the frightened residents of the city they were here to liberate. Kids, men, women, everyone of them was calling out to him in a whisper...

Our savior, fight evil.​

Send armies to defend us.​

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And so he did.​

 

[Lok Jorunn]

Operation: Shattered Dawn - Phase I​

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Smoke was everywhere. Blinded by the elements, Lok batted away blasterfire wildly while the men advancing didn't falter in the slightest. Their plastoid helmets and armor sent off clicking sounds as shrapnel and stray bolts whipped through the ranks of them. Several went down, most not uttering a single cry for help. They simply fell into heaps in the ground, their lives ended that very instant. "Push!" Lok cried out, waving his saber forward in a single fluid motion that sent himself flying forward in a sprint aided by the Force. The smoke and smog began to clear, opening his pathway just enough to clearly see the opening ahead of him. A courtyard.

"Take cover!"

He was too late. As soon as the platoon hit the outermost reaches of Checkpoint Bravo, they were eliminated with the efficiency and cold calculation resembling that of droids. "General!" A trooper cried out next to him, a sizzling hole in the armor covering his chest. Lok had no idea who he was calling for, but bent down to grab a hold of his wrist and pulled him off to the side, narrowly avoided a blast caused by an RPG. "Medic! I need a medic over here!" The Valkyrian Jedi yelled above the cascading ratta-ratta of machine guns above him. Red and green blaster bolts whizzed by the cover he was behind, peppering the ground where several bodies of second platoon lay. "D-don't worry about me, sir." The man gasped, coughing violently as he pulled the helmet from his voice. "Don't l-let the rest of t-them die..." Blood was pouring from his mouth, dribbling down his chin in sporadic spurts as he attempted to talk.

Lok ripped a section of his tunic off, tilting the man's head to the side and dabbing at the fluids with the thick cloth, opening up his airway. "Sir!" Another voice arose in the distance. The medic. As the man clad in red with medical bags draped over his armor, Lok called out the injuries. "Chest wound, possible airway or lung injury. Probable concussion." He'd picked up first aid and simple medical skills out in the wilderness in case he was hurt, but never anyone else. Thank the Divines for his knack for surviving. "I've gotcha, buddy. You're okay." The Jedi Guardian gave the medic's shoulder plate a pat and then he was off again into the smoke.

"Second story! RPG!" The Valkyri screamed before his eyes even laid upon the window, a pair of figures stepping into vision just quickly enough to send a rocket hurtling towards him. Feth. As even more dirt and dust was kicked up in the city's courtyard by the insurgents, he squinted in vain to catch a glimpse of the rocket. He was too late. It was already on him.

A searing hot pain shot up his right side as he went flying into the air with a crack. "Grrrrruurrrk!" He let out a moan that sounded like he was throwing up, hitting the ground hard. Tears welled in his eyes at the pain, coughing harshly as crimson fluids spewed from his mouth. Unlike the trooper from earlier, he only spat out a little blood. Never mind. Lok's back arched as he threw up even more of the precious liquid, writhing against the ground. He struggled to breath, focusing on that single task as a moist sensation spread across his side and head. Breathing slowed, heartbeat pounded in his head. A tear in the corner of his eye sparkled, dripping down his cheek.

His eyes were closed.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Commander May switched off the holographic transmission. He returned his helmet back onto head, sliding it into place with the familiar clicks and hisses. Hasjo had just confirmed an agreement between the Mandolorian forces of a ceasefire between the Sixth Battalion and their own army. There would be no fighting between the two forces. The three factions in the south of this wretched planet; Omega Protectorate, Silver Jedi Order, Mandalore. They had now all agreed to aid one another in minimal ways. They need only consolidate their power in the south before the Sixth Battalion could get reinforcements and move north. Together the three of them had the manpower to bring peace to this place. Though May questioned if they were the goals of the Mandalorians. Were they here in the name of peace? or for war. He hoped Hasjo had made the right judgement call, but for now, he appreciated one less enemy on his flanks. Their concentration was now solely north.

May returned to the windows where the Sixth Battalion exchanged fire with 'innies' as the troopers were calling them. It wasn't a heated fight like that he could hear further ahead of his position. It was a slow, long-drawn out firefight. One that had now resulted in a stalemate with neither side truly winning or losing, neither taking any ground. He reached down to his wrist, entering a series of digits as a transmission came in. The voice buzzed through the radio, crackling "This is Gamma 6-6, our Lieutenants down. I repeat, Jedi Padawan Lok Jorrun is down. We're getting overrun, innies are held up at World Square Shopping Centre. Sending you coordinates now, Commander. Request immediate artillery strike."
"I read you, artillery strike confirmed. Sending the boys on their way now, Gamma-66. Over." May switched channels to the three artillery vehicles that amassed in the three-way intersection outside. He signalled them with his hand and began to speak through the comms "We've got innies held up in a mall. Sending you coordinates now. I want all batteries to fire. Take that building down."

Hasjo heard it, the faint yet distinct whistle of incoming battery fire. He too saw it, racing close overhead the mall he was inside. Then the entire building shook, a roar cascading down the corridors and through every room. It had hit the west side of the building. Then another, and another. They were trying to take the building down with Juliet Company inside. They were unknown to the fact that on the far side of the mall it was crawling with innies. "Get out now. Move like you got purpose!" Hasjo shouted, waving for them to jump out the window of the second story. As the troopers began to climb out, they turned, attaching grappling hooks to the window sills and gliding down onto the footpaths below. The innies they had been fighting were routed, First Lieutenant Katar had proceeded further into the city whilst Juliet Company kept watch. Change of plans it seemed. They jogged across the other side of the street, sixty-eight of their men, the others dead from the firefight. They took cover in a repair shop when the mall came crumbling down, the foundations obliterated. Grey smoke and ash wafted through the streets. The very earth trembled under the mighty weight of the falling structure.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Admiral Ivastav stood on the deck of the Stormhold. With his left hand gently resting on his hip, his right limp by his side. He was calculating, and fast. Soon those ships would be all over them. His entire fleet was about to be eviscerated. The Silver Order was small, and this was a suicide mission. But the Sixth Battalion needed the reinforcements. He couldn't fail them. Not now. He glanced over his shoulder to Captain Pitt, he asked "So, where do we stand?"
"Our fighters are mopping up the last of their recon picket now, nothing serious." The Admiral nodded, turning to face a holographic display. He studied the fleets above the planet, they were fighting among one another. Perhaps he had a chance to run their blockade.
Pitt spoke again "But I've isolated approach signatures from multiple battle groups, make it three capital ships per group. And in about 90 seconds they'll be all over us."
"Well, that's it then. Bring the ship back up to Combat Alert Alpha. I want everyone at their stations." Captain Pitt nodded with the instructions. He stepped to the head of the ship, thumbing a button. He opened all communication channels on the ship. "Attention, all combat personnel: Please report to your action stations. 5th Platoon, secure airlocks on Deck 11. 14th Platoon, rendezvous with 22nd Tactical at bulkhead Charlie 14." Admiral signalled an officer, who initiated the emergency alarms that signalled a commencing battle. The deck began to flash with red lights as a siren sounded.

Commander May stood on the control bridge of a SP-HA, one of three massive artillery guns. He moved over to the viewport, his eyes darting down to the sensor scans. He frowned, that wasn't right. There was a faint signal from a Silver Order fleet. They were trying to run the blockade. There were faint signals bouncing too and fro from the artillery communication logs and the fleets. They were picking up the open channel that was encrypted for Silver Order only. May adjusted the settings and listened in with curiosity. He heard the unique voice of a Gan Captain on board the Rowany "All hands, this is the Captain. Prepare to abandon ship! Combat Teams, repel boarders until Ops personnel are away. Good luck. Kuusf out." His heart sank, the navy were fighting their lives out up there. He inched closer to the viewport, craning his neck upwards to see the distant explosions of ships exchanging fire. Plumes of smoke began to descend through the atmosphere like a thousand meteors, all to come crashing down into the city. Scattered. A ship broke through the lines. The Stormhold was performing evasive manoeuvres. "This is Admiral Ivastav to Commander May" he heard crackle over the comms "We've got reinforcements. The 19th Mechanised Platoon. Farrow Company is bust, they were with the Rowany before she blew. They're scattered over the city."

Flight Officer Trayton Sein pulled hard on the joysticks. His left hand rapidly slapping a series of keys as he attempted to control the escape pod. Farrow Company had escaped on emergency lifeboats while the Captain went down with his ship. He was a hero in their eyes, but right now, they didn't have the luxury to mourn the Gan's death. Trayton threw a heavy handed fist into the control systems, cursing loudly "Damn! Air brake failure! They blew too early!" The vessel began to tremble. The troopers looking to one another with concerned faces. Some of them praying. Trayton glanced over his shoulder "I'm losin' her. Brace for impact!" The escape pod came hurtling through the streets, slamming against the asphalt. It bounced, once, twice, thrice. It came barreling into the street window of a shop, coming to a grinding halt. Trayton was slammed against the dashboard, he groaned and got to his senses. He murmured into the communication array
"This is Lifeboat Delta Seven-Six. Anybody read me? Repeat: any Silver personnel, respond."

 

[Lord Gaius]

Trayton exited the lifeboat with the twenty others of Farrow Company. There were eighty of them spread out in various sectors of the city. One of the soldiers were crouched down, fiddling with the communication controls of the lifeboat. He was a former slicer that had signed up to change his life around. He was busy cutting wires when data began to stream down his data pad. He exclaimed with excitement "I've hacked into the Innies battlenet. They're actually broadcasting tactical data on unencrypted channels! I know where Commander May is. We should regroup as soon as possible. I'm going to use the data pads transponder system to monitor their chatter."
"Ho, hold up Private" Sergeant First Class Dexter Alan said, clamping a hand on the young mans shoulder "Monitor the chatter, but you're not telling my men what to do. But you're right, I'll give you that. We need to regroup. We need to find the rest of Farrow Company and make sure they're as well off as we're. Their beacons should be armed, we need only follow."

The twenty soldiers and Flight Officer moved down the street quietly. The distant sounds of blaster fire echoed in the empty streets of Salamis. Rain poured down in buckets, drenching their armoured suits. Their boots clapping against light puddles of rainwater, splashing around their ankles. Their tactical lights were switched on, sweeping across the road for any signs of the enemy. There was nothing, they were on the far north-west side of the city. The fighting was contained on the south-east. The slicer began to slow his trot as he analysed the flowing data before him. He began to speak up over close-comms "New traffic on the Innies Battlenet... a lot more crew made it off the Rowany than we had predicted - the Captain really gave them hell!" Some of the soldiers nodded with pride, others tightened their hands around their blasters. Confident on the fight ahead of them. Their morale raised, their hopes singing praises. "You got the energy to talk? You got the energy to walk!" Dexter snapped at the Slicer who was now standing as he read the data pad "Get some water. Suck it down. All I want to hear is the sound of hydration. Which-to be clear-sounds like ab-so-lutely nothing at all!"

They had regrouped with two of the three other lifeboats. Minimal injuries. A few bruises, dented armour plating. Nothing serious. They were sixty strong now, with three flight officers under their protection. They marched down an alleyway where the last beacon was located. The Slicer chipped up once more, learning his lesson to keep up "I've picked up reports that the Innies have located and secured the Rowany crash site. The good news is the Captain's still alive. The bad news is that the Innies have captured the entire surviving command crew." Dexter kept up his brisk pace, considering this with the other Sergeants and the reunited First Lieutenant Banks. Banks spoke with power in his tone "Change of orders. Once Farrow Company is at full manpower, our objective is officially changed. The Captain almost gave his life to save ours, so we're going to do the same for him. Commander May will survive without us for one more night." Dexter agreed with him, ordering his troops to pick up their pace. They all heard the firefight ahead of them. The troopers were caught in-between lines of engagement with the Innies. Banks turned to Farrow Company "It's gonna be hot! Get set to come out swinging'. Hit it, troopers!" They charged into the open street, the Innies caught off guard by the swarming mass of sixty troopers. Blaster fire lit up the darkness of night.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Dexter confirmed to Banks "Area's secure. All hostiles have been eliminated." The Sergeant moved through the maze of corpses towards the lifeboat where the troopers gave them their undying gratitude. They thought they were toast for sure. There weren't many Innies, they weren't expecting the entire Farrow Company to come down upon their heads. They had the element of surprise. Most of the Innies were being fought with the remainder of the Sixth Battalion or at Rowany's crash site.
"Count?" Banks asked.
"Three dead, one injured" Julianna confirmed.
"Grab their tags. Get a stretcher organised for the injured. Try and run him to Commander May, they will have a medical station organised by now. If they don't, tell the Commander to pull his men together." Julianna nodded with confirmation of the orders. She waved over two troopers and together the three of them would run back to the safety of friendly lines.

Commander May stood at the viewport, binoculars to his helmets faceplate. The Stormhold had delivered a regiment of AT-TE's. Before they knew it, the Stormhold was turning tail and fleeing from the system. Breaking through the planetary blockade and escaping through hyperspace. They would retrieve more reinforcements, but it would take them time and credits. Commander May received word from Farrow Company, along with injured personnel. They had been taken to the emergency medical station set up in a former speeder repair shop. He wasn't happy with First Lieutenant Bank's decision to go after the Gan officer, but he couldn't tell them no. They were deadly loyal to the goat-like man. Commander May spoke to Lily "I want the AT-TE's to advance on Katars position. I want Juliet Company to regroup with Katar and relieve Gamma Company. Artillery to concentrate fire on the submitted coordinates. Once Juliet has relieved Gamma, I want to push forward into the city with everything we got. Blitzkrieg."

Hasjo stood beside First Lieutenant Pasang, Katar and the newly arrived Haelen. He was a burly man that commandeered the mechanised platoon. Behind them were two companies of troopers. With another two spread out across the city. One of the patrol BARC riders came shouting over the communication channel, the radio popping with interference "Immediate: Grid kilo two-three is hot. Recommend mission abort."
Katar answered "Roger, recon." He looked to Hasjo, removing his helmet. He gave the Nautolan a deep look of appraise, as he studied the Jedi's features. "It's your call, General." Hasjo merely nodded, the weight of command bearing down on him. He knew he was about to sacrifice lives, many lives. For what cost? Peace on a planet that few would ever know of in their life? No, he couldn't think like that. He resolved his strength and gave a firm confirmation "The mission is a go."
"We're going in. Get tactical, Troopers!" Katar barked as he returned to the two companies. He slid his helmet back on over his head. Haelen gave him a curt nod and climbed into an AT-TE.

 

[Lord Gaius]

First Lieutenant Haelen stood in the control room of an AT-TE. He could see Hasjo, Katar and Pasang outside marching beside the large beasts of war. They were heavily exposed, and with the renewed strategy from command, he feared they would pay dearly. They had planned on fighting with guerrilla tactics, small concentrated groups on the weakest points of the enemy. Now, they were going to shove everything they had down the throat of the Innies in an attempt to choke them out. He leaned forward, not quite believing what he was seeing. Some troopers from Farrow Company were retreating down the streets towards them, many were injured and bloody. They looked as though they had been hell. Over the shoulders of Sergeant Dexter was Banks, his body limp. His head lulled side to side as they rushed towards the AT-TE's. Haelen moved to the ladder, unwinding the lid he poked his head out into the morning wind. He shouted "Where's the rest of your platoon?"
"Wasted, Lieutenant" Dexter answered. Hasjo rushing to his side, tending to Banks. He confirmed he was dead. Dexter cursed, swearing he was still alive when he picked him up. A vicious blaster wound in the officers chest. No one could have survived the wound for long.
"And we will be, too, sir, if we don't get the hell outta here!" the Slicer spoke up, terrified for what he had signed up for. Katar stepped forward, grasping his shoulders tightly and turning him to face the veteran. "You hit, Trooper?"
"N-no, Sir."
"Then listen up! You had your chance to be afraid before you joined my beloved Battalion. But to guide you back to the true path, I brought this motivational device. Our big red style cannot-be-defeated AT-TE!"

Hasjo, Katar, Pasang and field-promoted First Lieutenant Dexter led the three companies, the many injured of Farrow Company taken back to Commander May. They rounded a corner to the massacre that was a courtyard outside the collapsed mall. They'd seen some heavy fighting, and Gamma Company was holed up in an apartment complex. The AT-TE's began to turn their heads towards the Innies that had Gamma pinned, opening fire on them. Explosions tore through the streets as they were eviscerated in only a matter of seconds. All four companies concentrating fire, obliterating their defences. The Innies began to pull back. Hasjo and Katar moved towards the apartments, marching through the front doors where five troopers guarded the entrance. Pasang and Dexter organised a defensive perimeter alongside Haelen. Hasjo was surprised to find the corridor was completely filled to the brim with troopers, all their blasters trained on the door. They were held up strong. A female trooper approached Hasjo "Sir! Corporal Rigger, Gamma-Company! CP's this way!" she motioned to a heavily blockaded stairwell. Together they began to move up. "The Lieutenant got hit as soon as we dropped in."
"Who's in charge now, Corporal?"
"Uh, Sergeant Sharna, sir. She was pinned down up top. Come on, I'll show you." She opened the door at the end of the stairwell, revealing them to open skies. Several troopers lay prone on the roof, taking cover from snipers. Sharna crouched without a helmet, her cropped blonde hair blowing freely in the breeze. "When I asked for reinforcements, I didn’t think they’d send a Jedi."
"Where's the Padawan?"
"Downstairs, he's being treated for his wounds. You got a plan, sir?"
"We need to marshall all forces to push through the city as soon as we can move out. I can stick around for the Padawan to regain his strength."

 

[Lord Gaius]

Commander May moved around the holographic table before settling on it, leaning over. "Sitrep, Captain?" he asked.
"Commander, sir. All four companies and the mechanised platoon have rallied. First Lieutenant of Gamma Company is out. Hasjo is waiting for the Jedi to regain his strength before they move into the city. As you know Farrow Company was almost wiped out, completely routed." Commander May cursed under his breath "The fools."
"But, they know the location of Captain Kuusf, the Gan naval officer of the Rowany, and all other surviving officers. The innies have their forces concentrated on defending the officers. They want to bargain a surrender. We surrender, they won't kill them."
"You know protocol. We do not negotiate with terrorists."
"Once they're on the move, they'll be performing a lightning attack on the main Innie forces. They're going to try and overwhelm their defences with surprise. Have them running with their tails between their legs back to their mothers. Meanwhile, demolition squads from the artillery teams are setting up to destroy a few buildings. Slow down any forces that think they can take us out."
"Very good, Captain Oran. I've also received word from Voss. They're sending Master Rasu Gan with Oxford Company as soon as the next batch of reinforcements come. What's the estimated death toll for the blitzkrieg attack?"
"With Farrow Company suffering heavy losses.. We're looking at potentially losing one more company if we're lucky, three if we're not."
"And if we wait, slow things down. Guerrilla tactics as originally planned?"
"It just won't work, sir. Innies will have reinforcements by then from the north, east and west. They'll push us back. We have to crush them before they can crush us."

Atra planted the final explosive. He began his jog back down the street where the three immense artillery cannons waited. They would provide shelling on the enemies backs and flanks whilst the main force strikes from the front. A powerful uppercut to the Innies jaw, so to speak. The towers reflected the orange sun, spraying him in it's elegant rays. He regretted doing this, but if they wanted to survive. They needed to slow any form of enemy approach. With an entire collapsed skyscraper in their way? They would be having some extreme difficulties moving any form of major force over it. He glanced to Logan who confirmed his charges were also set. They would collapse the bottom floor of several towers, six blocks up from the artillery. Just outside the danger zone. As they slowly made it back to their comrades, a large gathering of injured troopers who could walk joined them, and the artillery gunners. They stood behind the massive legs of the SPHA's for cover. Atra took the trigger, and all of them counted as one. Excited as children. It distracted them from the horrors of war, if only for a moment. Troopers began to clasp their hands over Atra's until some six hands were atop his. Together, at Atra's confirmation, they ignited the charges. It took only a split second for a massive roar to come barreling down the street, followed by black and grey smoke. The fiery explosion sending a great ball of fire hurling into the sky. All of them cheered. Relishing the moment as great towers come tumbling down.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Hasjo stood before a holoprojector that was transmitting their likeness to Master Rasu Gan who was on the approach with reinforcements. They were only a matter of days away now. Alongside him stood First Lieutenant Katar and Pasang. Hasjo turned to face Master Gan, greeting her with a formal bow. "This is Jedi Knight Hasjo Hallu. Reporting. Sitrep - Sixth Battalion has moved into Salamis. We've lost one of our own on the initial approach. The other Padawan, Lok Jorunn is currently with me. He was hit on his landing. He's out cold, medics are doing what they can in the meantime. Once he's regained his strength, we'll be throwing all our forces at the insurrectionists."
"Transmission received Knight Hallu. It is a relief to see your face young one. We've been trying to contact you for the past three hours and feared the worst. How goes the assault? How much resistance has been left in the city? We've been left practically blind upon our entry into hyperspace, so I'll need a proper debrief upon our arrival, in fact save all the details until our arrival. I'll have Oxford company distribute themselves amongst Gamma and Juliet, filling up the gaps, until we can better assess the situation. You're all doing a fine job Hasjo, you are doing the Order proud. Anything else to report?"
"The assault goes as well as it could. We were outnumbered when we arrived. The Rowany with Captain Kuusf was shot down, almost all hands on deck were killed. Farrow Company escaped with heavy casualties, but the Innies have Kuusf and the surviving officers captive. Their main forces have withdrawn from the cities CBD and are retreating into the suburban towns. I look forward to your presence here, Master Rasu Gan. Hallu out."

Dexter, 'Slicer' and Rigger stood around. Slicer was still watching the Innies battlenet, unawares a hacker was in their systems and feeding all their tactical information straight to their enemy. Though their system of command was not as thorough as the Silvers. Not every order went through their battlenet, and Slicer assumed he was only gathering simple chatter and nothing big. They weren't going to win the fight by watching the battlenet, but they had a distinct advantage. Rigger offered them both an energy bar. It woke you up, but it tasted like a Geonosian dung. They declined with a mumbled 'no thanks.' Rigger began to make some small talk with them, getting to know the troopers of Farrow Company. "So, who's the Jedi?"
"Hasjo Hallu" Dexter said "We were with him back when he was Republic. Don't know what happened, but he went AWOL a year ago. 'Few months later, he shows up. Tells us about where he went. He was a Commander of a Naval sector, and we'd followed him on campaigns before. When he said they needed men, heck, we couldn't say no to the ugly alien."
"-Yeah" Slicer trailed off from where Dexter finished "He never blinks. You guys notice that? Never. Apparently Nau-toe-lens don't have eyelids. It's freaks me out. I'm not a fan of it."
"Stop your whining, Slicer. He's kept us out of neck-deep poodooe more than once"
"Yeah? He doesn't sound like a Jedi. Don't they meditate all day and just talk on-and-on-and-on?"
"He's more soldier than Jedi. He's one of us, you-know? He's family. We're all family in Sixth Battalion, whether or not we don't know everyone. We've all got each others backs."

 

[Lok Jorunn]

Operation: Shattered Dawn - Phase II​

​

​

Day 1
Dear Diary, my name is Isabella Relik. If you ask me, I've got no real idea as to why I'm writing in the thing, but Mom bought it so I figured I'd make some use of it. It's not like I'm going to write down my feelings or anything in it. But I might as well go ahead and talk about my day. Things were...better. Leigh and Patricia hung out with me after school and we went down to the park some.

We saw a few cute guys. Pretty much the same as usual.

Day 3
Forgot to put in an entry yesterday. Oh well. It was uneventful for a weekend. Spent the majority of it browsing the HoloNet and I found quite the pefect dress for prom. I also realized I'm a little interested in forum boards, even a few ones for creative writing. Some of the stories there are literally masterpieces of work, even though none are officially published. I wish I had some talent like that. Be that as it may, doing a little shopping and playing some games is enough for me.

Sure I said I was browsing the Net earlier, but I found something interesting. Some new minerals or whatever was found somewhere here on Chaeronea. Apparently they're wildly valuable. Good. Maybe I can dig some up somewhere and sell it! (Haha!)

Day 4
I can't believe my eyes. I am literally looking at dozens - no, hundreds - of starships descending towards Chaeronea. I don't know what exactly is happening, but there's a lot of shooting. I'm scared. Mom and Dad are at work. Mom works with the local pharmacist and Dad is a teacher down at the elementary school about three miles away from our apartment.

It's been a few hours since I wrote my first entry of the day. Oddly dressed men and women came into the city. They look like bandits and they're all carrying guns. They curse and shout. I'm too high up for them to notice me or even consider searching our apartment complex, but it seems they are looking for something else. Good

West Grale Marketplace, Salamis City
1027 Local time

"Let's go, Easy! Move it up!" Bellowed a barrel-chested, yellow-striped Sergeant, waving the men of Easy company along the streets. "First and third platoons, take the flanks and prepare for hard contact. Second, on me." He continued to shout commands, waving his free hand in the directions designated to his men. Gunnery Sergeant Mitch Travik was a seasoned veteran of more than just a single conflict. The large and imposing bear of a fellow bore the scars of more than just combat, but of life in general. Known affectionately as "Papa Trav", the men of Easy knew they were in good hands.

As the company advanced through the debris strewn streets of the downtown metropolitan area near the park, spooks could be around any corner. Precision and discipline tended to pay off in situations like this, and Papa Trav was thankful that hi boys had paid attention in class. "Jarvis, take Johnnie and Slim up to that berm. Set up the E-Web." Travik jammed a finger in the intended direction. "On it, boss." One of them called back, shifting their weight as they jumped out of formation and broke across the street to set up their heavy support weapon.

Easy company was near the central park area, a slight downpour of rain concealing their movement as they erected defenses and set up camp. Easy stayed more so on the outer edges of the park, sending out occasional listening posts and scout patrols. Sentry lines were formed and a supply route would be established in this very location. Now, all they had to was sweep the woods out for any spooks that dared to stay behind. It took nearly an entire hour to set up shop with the little command section, popping up tents for the communications personnel and patching in to command elements.

Now came the fun.

 

[Lok Jorunn]

The Shadow Two​

​

We few...​

​

Rain poured down in vast, thin torrents. Thunder crackled and snapped above the pair of figures weaving through the streets strewn with wreckage and the occasional corpse or two. "Reese, where are we headed?" The armor-clad figure in the rear questioned, perking his helmeted head up to scan the area in front of them. "Checkpoint Niner Four-Two." The lead trooper replied, digging his rifle butt into his plated shoulder as he continued to creep forward through the streets being flooded with rainwater. "What was our new unit again?" He continued to talk, wanting to desperately end the silence in the streets. It wasn't that the young man didn't like the serenity of the quiet, but it felt ominous in a frakking warzone. "Gamma Company. Under Jedi Lok Jorunn. Ever heard of him?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, I didn't think so. I haven't either."

Reese Espada and Clarke Astarte were both new additions to the mountain unit known as Gamma company. Both being Lieutenants, they were shuttled down as fast as possible to relieve the current officers and relocate other personnel, but the flak screening had decimated their entire reinforcement deployment. These two were the only survivors of their gunship's crash, their blackened armor a testimony to their narrow escape from the clutches of death. It was a wonder these two were still together after all of the years they'd been together. Childhood friends destined to grow up together and explore the galaxy together. Instead, they'd opted to help rid the universe of tyranny and evil. And they did it with gusto.

we Band of Brothers...

Moving on foot wasn't so bad. At least they were clearing ground fairly quickly. "Hey, remember back on Anaxes when you filled the DI's pillowcase with eels?" Reese gave a chuckle at the memory of a Drill Instructor tearing through the barracks bay at 3AM, rampaging in a tantrum about eels in his pillowcase. Clarke gave a snort from behind. "Yeah, I remember. The bastard deserved it." The pair didn't have a knack for disheveling authority where they saw fit, but rather disposed of poor leadership. It was just something imprinted into their genes. Whoever their new commander was, they hoped he was up to the task of dealing with the new duo of officers joining his unit.

Dashing across a thin street, nearing the sounds of gunfire, Clarke gave Reese a wave over. They were a unit of their own, moving as if they were a single person. Nobody had bested them in combat and they intended for things to stay that way. Reese slid his hand down over his helmet, snapping his attached visor into place, peeking around the corner of a thoroughly blown apart housing complex. If they'd merely been walking by, their heads would be shaking in astonishment that people would actually target residential areas. "Ready?" Clarke asked. "Let's roll."

In perfect sync, the pair cornered the building and set off into full sprint of the shopping center taking heavy fire from the Northeast. "What for skinnies." The verbal warning wasn't really needed, but it set the mood and intensified their focus. Talking in a tactical manner made them feel much better, and cooler. "Inside, now." Kicking down a door, Clarke was inside first, scanning a small outlet store with his heavy blaster rifle when his brother-in-arms breached behind him. "Where to?"

"Forward."

Reese was the first to spot the groupings of allied soldiers, calling out before they moved over to their position. "Lieutenants Espada and Astarte, reporting. Where's Commander Jorunn?" Reese asked, tapping a trooper on the shoulder. "Commander Jorunn? He's right here." The trooper replied, leaning a little to the side to allow the pair to catch a sight of the man he was operating on. "Don't worry, he's stable. Just unconscious."

For he who sheds blood with me shall be my brother...

 

[Lord Gaius]

First Lieutenant Katar assembled the forces in the square. They needed to move on the enemy before they could fortify appropriate defences. They would need to leave Gamma Company behind to act as reinforcements when First Lieutenant Lok Jorunn awoke. Ten AT-TE's lined the streets, gathered around their legs like ants were Juliet, November and Farrow Company. They had rested, the soldiers refreshed. With such a strong force, they were confident. The plan was to wait for the AT-TE's to meet the enemy before pushing all their infantry at them in three waves, with Gamma Company acting as the fourth. White armoured soldiers lined the streets, flecks of orange, purple, red and green dignified officers among the massed ranks. Hasjo would be leading the first charge with Juliet Company, followed by First Lieutenant Katar and then Dexter. Haelen ordered the march, and the soldiers began to move forward, lumbering down the streets of the city towards suburbia. "You think we'll win?" a nervous Slicer asked Dexter.
"No doubt about it" Dexter lied to him. He was unsure. He knew there would be heavy losses on both sides. He didn't want to ruin the boys hope. It was a necessary evil to lie to him.

Hasjo stood atop the AT-TE, at the direction of his clawed index finger, he ordered the attack. Radio operators transmitted coordinates to the artillery cannons and with seconds, all ten AT-TE's, and three SP-HA's opened fire on the suburban town outside Salamis. Explosions tore through former residential homes. Turning wood into eviscerating splinters, killing those struck by them. The Innies were spread throughout in the buildings, utilising them for cover. It had become their enemy. The armoured tank-like vehicles exploded with bombardments of cannon fire from their own smaller cannons. Great beams of laser tearing through homes, obliterating any Innies that happened to be in the way. The Nautolan leapt down from the AT-TE as they advanced. Their great feet causing the asphalt road to crack under their weight. The earth trembled beneath their might. The Jedi ignited his Lightsaber Pike, cerulean plasma bursting to life with a familiar hiss. The soldiers cheered, and roared. At the motion of his arm, they charged forward. Fingers on their triggers. Hasjo broke into a sprint, moving to the closets house. With the single swipe of the plasma, the door came crashing down. The Innies raised their rifle and he began to twirl his blade. The technique was known as Su, a technique the Nautolan had mastered. He came towards them, their blaster fire bouncing off his spinning blades.

Katar held a blaster pistol into the air. Signalling the second charge. They raced forward, all seventy-three of them into the streets. The veteran clambered over corpses of fallen brothers. He would mourn their death later. He pulled off a precision shot, striking an Innie in his gullet, dropping him. He waved his men onwards, as they joined the siege on the town. Troopers were kicking down doors, shooting the insurrectionists they were held up inside, or they were the ones to be shot down. It was chaos. Nothing but pure, unrefined chaos. Blaster fire filled the streets, AT-TE's sent houses crumbling to the ground in smoke and fire. He was advanced beneath the belly of an AT-TE when volley fire cascaded down on the armoured vehicle. It's hull burst open as an RPG struck. The vehicle whined loudly, slowly it was beginning to collapse. Katar raced out from under it, narrowly escaping death as it crushed nine other soldiers of his own. He advanced on the enemy, comforting himself in knowing Hasjo and Farrow Company would be there for him. Hot laser glanced against his shoulder plating, sending him to reel back in pain. He turned to Pasang who was coming to his aid, when his foot struck something. Click. Katar was thrown back by the sheer force of the explosion. Head over heels he came crashing down, disorientated. He looked to find Pasang, but he was gone. He shrieked, not only in sorrow, but something struck him in the back. An Innie held a foot down on Katars spine as he fired off nigh-point blank blaster rounds into the First Lieutenant.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Haelen slammed a furious fist upon the dashboard in front of him. Electrical circuits crackled under the strain, snapping and hissing. He hailed Commander May on an encrypted channel "We've got an officer down. Katar and Pasang are K.I.A. Heavy casualties on both sides, sir. Farrow Company is coming in with the final wave now. We've lost contact with the Jedi. How proceed?"
"Proceed with the mission, Lieutenant. That's an order."
"By your order, Commander" Haelen answered, cutting the communication channel. He threw an accusing finger to a gunner and roared at him "Fire all batteries!" An engineer came running up a corridor to stand before the First Lieutenant, saluting him "Sir, the hull's been breached. Engineering team is doing what they can to patch 'er up. We've also lost two more AT-TE's."
"Damnit" he swore under his breath. The AT-TE shook from the pressure of the cannons firing. The turrets shrieked as it blasted at the enemy forces.

Dexter raced into the fight. The twenty-eight surviving members of Farrow Company with him. Artillery shells came hailing down from the heavens, smiting their foe. Cannon fire blasted through houses, tearing apart the flesh of their enemy. It is a glorious day to die, he thought to himself. He pitted himself against a fallen AT-TE, land mines nearby had torn small craters in the road. He raised his blaster rifle and gazed down the iron sights. He pulled the trigger, picking off a few enemies as the bolts pierced their armour. A walker exploded forth through a home, sending dust across the streets. Innies and troopers stood at it's feet, fighting it out in close combat. Dexter watched as a Silver garbed Nautolan spun his lightsaber, cutting through the titanium legs of the walker, forcing it to crash to the ground. The Jedi clambered atop the beast, cutting it open and climbing in. Screams and shouts of horror were heard, and cut short. He remembered this was war, and even the Jedi needed to do things they wouldn't anywhere else in the galaxy, just to save the lives of others. Dexter steeled himself as Farrow Company were on his six, providing suppressing fire on the enemy. The AT-TE's were now mopping up the approaching walkers.

Hasjo marched through the caved-in wall, leading to the master bedroom of the former owners. He moved from room to room with a fire team of troopers on his heels, cleaving a path through whatever resistance was shown. His light grey tunic and dark grey trousers were marked in dried blood. His sleeves of his tunic were shredded from a close encounter. He glanced to the Sergeant of the fireteam, speaking “My life does not revolve around comfort. Still… it was, as I’ve heard humans say, a ‘close shave.’” They nodded, having just witnessed the attack. After he had taken down a walker, several vibroblade wielding Innies had surrounded Hasjo, outnumbered eight to one. The Shii-Cho master had utilised everything he knew to fend them off. Unrestrained by vertebral restrictions, his body had moved like a martial hurricane. Moving in two and three directions at once. The battle was slowly moving in their favour with the reinforcements by Farrow Company and the mechanised platoon. Evening the fight out. Now the lightning attack had them on the run after brutal casualties on both sides. Hasjo stood in a living room, his cerulean plasma lightsaber pike providing lighting to the building. Commander May crackled over the radio "We've got the insurrectionists on the run. Katar and Pasang are down. Dexter is still good. I recommend you chase those innies right out of Salamis. Make sure they don't come back"