Star Wars: Saber Battalion/Chapter Five

Star Wars: Saber Battalion

Chapter Five

Roughly six thousand kilometers above the surface of the homeworld of his species, far beyond the physical sight of any organic being, fifty-four blots of life suddenly appeared within the Force, some smaller than others. Acaadi smiled to himself as he walked the perimeter of the Sith-run supply base in the predawn gloom, satisfied that he'd soon fulfill his purpose. The Sith Lord could sense the battle to come, as clear as cut crystal; he had in fact been sensing it for days. The tang on his tongue had been unmistakable, exquisite, triggering his inner bloodlust. So had it been when he had fought the Mandalorians, then as a Jedi, though he had been taught to shunt it aside, and so it had been when he had fought his former allies, allied with his former enemies, to free his world from the weaknesses that ensnared it.

The irony of it all struck him as fitting, quite fitting, for he had become something of an expert in freeing other beings from the weakened, stagnant beast of the Republic and opening them to the power of the dark side and the Sith who mastered it. Now that he knew for sure that the attack was at hand, Acaadi simply kept on strolling, not bothering to run the phalanx of troopers who ran the base and supervised the distribution of the war matériel held within. Why would he want to warn the prattling scum who did not witness war, experience battle, when they wouldn't know what to do against the tide of destruction that was, even now, pointed directly at them?

No, Acaadi would not warn his minions, because that brightest spot in the Force, that was what intrigued him. He wanted this...special person...to arrive intact, so that he could engage in face-to-face combat, and once again claim another successful seduction. His smile having turned into a feral grin that was all teeth, the black-cloaked Zabrak picked a spot, and lurked there.

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Lieutenant Commander Chek Nessai had passed the trip in the same tension-building silence as the rest of her First Platoon. In the windowless, armored compartment, she could not see the mottling of hyperspace as it shattered into thousands of lines, but she could feel through the hull as the hyperdrive cut out, the vibrations pitching slightly higher as the lander was yanked out of hyperspace, then growing in intensity as the sublight drives kicked in.

“Reversion complete,” the pilot announced. “On course and looking good. Atmospheric entry in...ten minutes!”

Like many of the Marines crammed in their landers, the hardened veteran knew that these next ten minutes would be among the longest of her life. This silent charge into who knew what, without knowledge or forewarning, but with a certainty that death was a constant companion, took a special brand of courage, one that the Marines of the Galactic Republic prided on having found within themselves.

Almost in spite of the mounting tension, the battle-scarred company commander found herself smiling, albeit grimly, because the leader of the strike force had done her homework. The Third Battalion knew, roughly, what they were up against; they knew, also, what their mission was and where their priorities lay. Their commander had faced the worst that the Mandalorians could inflict, and had come back swinging. Both women had had that in common, and because of this, Chek Nessai was willing to follow Captain Reyolé through all nine Corellian hells and back, sacrificing everything if need be.

The lander began to buck as it made contact with hard atmosphere, screaming in at an almost suicidal angle in a Mandalorian-style nosedive. Chek threw a glance toward the jump-light, which still blazed red. After several more moments of rumbling, she checked again, and saw that it had just begun to glow yellow.

“Stand ready!” she yelled into her helmet's comlink, suiting action to words by unstrapping herself and standing upright. Along with the rest of the platoon, she gripped the upper railings as the lander pulled up hard, the gravitational forces too much for the acceleration compensator to handle.

The next ten seconds ticked by like hours, like lifetimes...

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The young ensign flying Shabu Six marveled as the tunnel vista of hyperspace dashed itself against the gravity well of Iridonia, the blazing lines shrinking back into the pinpricks of stars partially-occluded by the world below. The flotilla of dropships, with their fighter escort, had arrived exactly as planned, on the terminator line between day and night, with dawn having just broken over the target area. As the attack force continued down the planetary well, Chak watched as the first wave of four landers detached themselves from the main force, pulling ahead and heading for their own targets.

“Shabu Squadron, we're on the leaders,” Commander Juyode announced over the comm. “Two, three, you're on me for the first lander; Four, Five and Six, on the second; Seven, Eight, and Nine, take the third; Ten, Eleven and Twelve, stick with the last one. Keep a sharp eye, mark targets as they appear, and give'em all you got!”

The Marine pilots responded exuberantly, splitting up as ordered and accelerating to attack speed as they locked their wings in attack position. The three-ship elements took up triangle formations in front of their assigned landers, intending to plow the road for them as they lumbered toward the drop zones. Chak took the port quarter behind Shabu Five, as Four took station to starboard. The ensign glanced back in his cockpit for a visual confirmation that he was in formation, turning about to refocus his sensors on the approaching target. By sheer dint of luck, his flight had been detailed to the shuttle heading for the initial point of insertion, that one tower that was slightly out-of-place...

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“Green light, green light, go go go!” Chek bellowed as the interior was bathed with flashing verdant light. The side hatches and rear ramp hissed open, and the low light of dawn began to spill into the craft from its port side even as it rattled under the weight of several hits from small-arms fire. The officer was first out of the lander, unlimbering her carbine as she sprinted forward, unleashing a string of blaster bolts in the general direction of the tower even as three Aurek fighters screamed by overhead. She was followed quickly by the rest of the first squad, who showered the outpost with fire while the rest of the platoon disembarked and followed suit.

“First and third squads, on me!” she bellowed. “Second and Fourth, suppressing fire!”

As half her troops spread out, bathing the outpost in the crimson glow of blasterfire, she sprinted the hundred meters toward the outpost entrance, spraying the door with packets of coherent light even as an armored figure made to shut it in her face. An armored form fell forward, clearly dead, forcing the door in the opposite direction. Bracing herself against the wall beside the entrance, she waited briefly for enough of her men to stack up behind her.

“Breach, breach, breach!” Chek bellowed, tossing a concussion grenade into the dark room beyond. It went off with a crump that would have been quite painful were it not for her helmet's aural protection. Flicking on their helmet lights, she and the squad of Marines behind her dashed into the room, finding it empty. “Clear!” she annoucned. “Move up and fan out!”

With half her platoon outside providing a base of fire in addition to the blaster cannons of the lander, the rest progressed by squad through the small complex. Within half a minute, the dozen silver-armored troopers defending it were dead, so stunned that they hadn't been able to get off so much as a dozen poorly-aimed shots at their assailants. Chak made her way to the central part of the outpost, situated on a second level. “Sergeant, check that turret,” she ordered a nearby Marine.

“Still operational, ma'am,” he replied.

“Good,” Chek replied. “Get it operational, and start firing into the air, let's make them think they still own it.” After receiving a nod from the sergeant, who had requisitioned a corporal into helping him, she adjusted her comlink. “Hornhead Spear to Hornhead Hammer,” she muttered into Third Battalion's tactical frequency. “First one's free. Tab's on me.”

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Laera smiled to herself as the leader of Dorn Company relayed the codewords she'd hoped to hear. Just then, her lander's jump-light switched to yellow, and she unbuckled and stood up with the rest of the platoon. “Good job, Spear,” she replied. “Let the good times roll.”

So far, so good, she thought to herself as the landing craft jarred into its pull-out maneuver.

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“We have green light for drop,” Thedus Bimm bellowed. “Move your asses, Marines!”

As the hatches and ramp popped open, Thedus and his company's First Platoon jumped the two meters to the ground as the lander hovered in place, bathing the outer wall of the main base in fire from its blaster cannons. The men and women of his company bellowed war cries as they sprinted toward their objective, adding their own carbines to the hail of crimson death. Nearby, other landers had begun to deposit their troops, who put up just as much a ruckus. As he neared the wall, he heard the codewords over the battalion frequency, which prompted him to run even faster. “Demolitions,” he yelled as he put his back to the barrier. “Get your gear up here and blow us some holes!”

The whine of blaster carbines and roaring of their heavier counterparts didn't quite drown out the thumping of armored boots on hard ground as the platoon with which he had dropped caught up to him. Four men detached themselves from the main body, digging items from the packs of their fellows, so that within a matter of seconds, four breaching charges had been set. “Breaching, breaching!” they yelled, as the charges imploded the wall to form man-sized holes, through which they tossed small thermal detonators. “Fire in the hole!”

Gouts of blue-white flame erupted from each hole, missing the Marines nearest to the breaches, as they had taken cover at the warnings from the demo-men. All along the outside perimeter of the supply base, similar explosions were taking place as the three companies of the main force Marines systematically tore through the three-meter barrier. “Besh is in,” Thedus said into the tactical comm. “Advancing on the center.”

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As Laera jumped from her own lander, igniting her lightsaber as she impacted the ground, she took in the reports from her platoon and company commanders. The second outpost tower had fallen, while Aurek and half of Besh Company had succeeded in breaching the outer wall, with Cresh taking up their assigned holding positions. Sprinting toward the section of wall nearest to her lander, she stabbed her lightsaber into it, steadily carving out a hole three humans wide as the rest of Second Platoon caught up. “Save the demos,” she said as a pair of Marines came forward with their packs. The two shook their heads in bemusement as the rest of the platoon advanced around them.

“Hornhead Overwatch, report,” Laera called into the tactical frequency as the platoon sprinted toward a hatchway on the inner complex's wall.

“Overwatch here,” Commander Veris Elli reported from her Aurek fighter somewhere overhead. “Skies are clear, but we've got scattered fire from Point Spear-One, looks like their demonstrating. Hammer Point is largely clear of hostiles...wait one...” The comm went dead for a moment, during which time the platoon stacked up along the complex wall. So far, in her opinion, things had been too quiet. “Hammer, we've got movement about half a klick from you, forty-plus foot-mobiles running full tilt toward your location.”

“Thanks, Overwatch, out,” Laera replied. “Hornhead Scalpel, we could use a run right about now...”

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“...coordinates to follow,” the comm unit spoke with the voice of the Third Battalion commander. Chak flipped his primary monitor over to display the incoming location onto a map of the area, which painted a target not far from where his formation was flying.

“Four, Five, Six, take them,” Shabu Lead ordered.

Almost as one, the three Aureks banked hard toward the indicated position. Chak brought his laser targeting reticule up, centering it on the small formation of armored troops that was barely visible in the dawn light. “Shabu Six has eyes on,” he reported. “Opening fire!”

On the ground, the heavy laser cannons of the three attacking starfighters raked through the half-platoon of Sith troopers, ripping them to shreds before they could even react.

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From within his hiding place, the Sith Lord watched through the Force as the battle progressed. All four of the outposts had fallen to the rampaging Marines, who were even now breaching the inner complex after having taken almost no casualties. He had been able to see with his physical self the three Republic starfighters as they decimated a cluster of defending Sith troopers.

The sight had been glorious.

Soon, though, Acaadi knew that it would be time to move. The overwhelming number of troops on the ground, with the help of so much air support, all but guaranteed a victory for the Republic. His only recourse now lay in corrupting that one bright spot in the Force who, even as he watched, cut her way into the base...

Chapter Four &mdash; Star Wars: Saber Battalion &mdash; Chapter Six