Randon/Story

''Outer Rim campaign: In an effort to capture the Marithmar system, the Republic sends out one of its topmost unit, the 27th Ground Corps through the Filan Route. Trapped in an asteroid field, the flagship of the fleet, call signed the Oblivion, was lost and crashed onto Randon, a planet of trade and merchandise. Here, the clones were threatened by the hostile locals, prompting them to reply with total force.''



“Commander Stoned,” called a clone trooper, “our snipers seem to have a visual on a small town nearby; about a few clicks up ahead.”

“Inform the convoy. Tell them to prep for civilian confrontation,” Stoned replied plainly.

“Very well, commander.”

The trooper went towards the convoy of what appeared to be a platoon of clones marching on the commander’s tail, and gave them the order. They immediately lowered down their weapons before lining up into a formation of separate squads. The clones continued their slow march towards north, heading for the said town.

And in about half an hour, they finally reached the edge of a small but crowded settlement. The air was filled with numerous traders shouting out on their showcased goods. Upon their arrival, the troopers were noticed by the residents who began giving out repetitive glances at them. Stoned put away his pistol and led the platoon through the thick crowd. As they passed, most of the townspeople moved away from their path, not missing from their continuous glares.

“I don’t think they like us, Sir,” whispered one trooper.

“Don’t be silly, Zic. I think it’s only because they’ve never seen soldiers like us before.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Yeah, well I hope so.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">When the clones had walked down half of the town’s main road, Stoned stopped by one stall on his right side to talk with the owner.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Good man,” he called, “We are soldiers of the Republic, and we wish to ask for directions.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“What does a scum like you want? Better scram before you get into trouble, tell you that,” said the mysterious-looking stall owner.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“We’re not looking for trouble. We only need to find someone who could fix our ship. See, I’ve got some coins, if you don’t mind.” Stoned took out a small rugged back which clinked and clanked as he hoisted it out from his packet, indicating that the content would be lots of credit coins.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">The stall owner gasped in shock. “Corruption,” he muttered to himself. The slow mutter quickly turned into a loud shouting, with the man vigorously pointing towards the clone, “Corruption! This man is corrupted!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">Immediately, the overwhelming noise of the crowd fell silent. All eyes were set upon Stoned.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Whoa! Whoa! I said we’re not looking for trouble.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Well, if anything, it looks like you’ve found it.” The Rodian stall owner pulled out a blaster rifle and slowly lifted it up to point at the clone commander.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">And almost in unison, about a hundred sounds of echoing clicks filled the air. The clones were in total befuddlement. But Stoned knew what was happening. He quickly drew his pistol and shot the Rodian in the head.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">The crowd went crazy again. Voices of women screamed in fear. Men were furious.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Battle positions!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">The clone troopers scrambled for cover at the far edge of the main road from which they had entered the town. On their way, the townspeople, whom had already brought out their weapons, began engaging upon them. Their continuous fire was replied with counter strike from the clones. Several unfortunate troopers toppled down as they received blasts from the hostile locals.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Why did you shoot him?” yelled Zic at his commander when the clones had reached the town’s edge, every single one of them either crouching or standing in their practiced battle positions.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“He was getting on my nerves.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“You just had to shoot first.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Couldn’t help it.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">A fierce firefight broke out between the clone troopers and the local townspeople. The enemy had rocket launchers on the rooftop, blasting the clones off the ground.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Snipers, into position!” ordered Stoned. “Take out those damn rockets.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">The leader of the sniper team answered through the com, “Yes, sir!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">One by one of those rocket launchers had their heads torn off by accurate fire from the sniper team.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Good job, Sniper Team Zero,” complimented Stoned.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Watch out, grenade!” A clone trooper pushed the commander away from his position before pressing his own chest hard upon a stray hand grenade on the ground. The latter exploded into blue flames and black smoke, his helmet was what was left of him.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Damn it,” whispered Stoned to himself in anger. “Mortars, front and center!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">Ten clone troopers holding a mortar barrel each headed towards the front line and buried their barrels into the ground, loading mortar shells into them.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Fire!” a clone captain ordered. And off went the mortars, blasting shells which rained furious explosions upon the enemy. The buildings were now torn by the constant blasts and explosions from both sides. But somehow, it seemed that the number of the enemy was only steadily growing.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">Three of the mortar officers had been shot down, leaving only seven of them blasting mortars. One clone trooper stood up and slowly marched forward to provide cover for them, releasing continuous fire from his rotary blaster and killing many of the hostile locals. The enemy improvised and took out machine guns from windows on higher levels of the ruined buildings. The trooper received numerous blasts over his entire body before dropping dead.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Sir,” summoned a clone trooper donned in thick armor painted with bright red and yellow markings, “The flame troopers are ready. Permission to advance—”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Just go!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“You heard him. Squad, upfront; on the double!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">The bright red team of clone flame troopers swiftly sprinted to the front line just as the mortar officers did but further into enemy fire. It was their first action in the war since it erupted earlier that year.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Burn ‘em out!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">Their flamethrowers vomited swirling flames from the nozzles, engulfing several townspeople into deadly fire, licking them all over as they fell to the ground. Screaming in helplessness and pure agony, the victims of the flame troopers scattered around until they were burnt into total crisps.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">One man ran straight towards the team leader and held onto him very tightly. Overheated, his fuel tank exploded into a harsh and fierce ball of fire. A couple of the troopers were thrown back, inflamed and barely conscious.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">Stoned was now coincidentally positioned with part of his own squad.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Commander Stoned!” yelled the clone sergeant from earlier back. “We’re taking in heavy casualties on the west flank.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Hold your ground, sarge. I’ve got the pilot trying to contact the fleet as we speak.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">With a nod the trooper went back to the left side of the battlefield to continue fighting against the enemy alongside his dying teammates.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Zic,” Stoned called.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Yes?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“I need you to get to the snipers back on the hilltops. Use their com link to try and call the pilot. See if he’s got the fleet online.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Okie-doke.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Flasher, Buzzcut. Cover the west flank, will you?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Of course, Sir,” said Flasher.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">As his teammates left for their separate duties, Stoned fought side by side with Siril, the only other Advanced Recon Commando trooper besides himself.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“What’s wrong with these people?” shouted the latter. “Don’t they have other things to do?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“I know, right? By the way, it’s a good thing that you’re here. It’s always good to have an ARC trooper in the team.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Heh, speak for yourself.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">In a sudden, a stray blaster fire embedded itself deep into Siril’s chest, forcing a strong push that threw him back lying on his back. Stoned called for two troopers nearby; Avar and Preemo. The two came and the latter overlooked the unconscious Siril.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“This is bad,” said he. “I can’t treat him here. He needs to get back to the ship. Now.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“I was thinking the same thing. Avar, call in some more of your friends. Two’s good.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">Avar called over troopers Cutter and Gizmo who arrived at the scene in a flash. These two men were requested to provide supporting cover fire for Siril and Preemo. Just as the enemy began outnumbering the clones, Stoned ordered an instant full retreat. Preemo carried Siril over his back and off they went heading towards the tree line.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Sniper Team Zero, do you have a visual on me?” asked Stoned over his com link.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Crystal clear, Sir.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Good. I need cover from you for our team. We have a wounded with us.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Copy that.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">And as the sniper leader said that, several bolts grazed off the heads of a few townspeople who were closing in on Stoned’s group. They were now running into the small pack of other surviving clone troopers. Preemo tripped and dropped the injured Siril as he fell. A Zabrak manning an enemy turret gunned him down with endless fire, before one of the clone snipers blasted the Zabrak in one of his eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">Cutter shouted, “Preemo’s dead!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“I’ll carry him,” said Avar.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">He carried Siril over his back in the same manner as Preemo did and rejoined his team. The townspeople were even closer with the clones now. And as the last clone trooper entered the forest, Stoned stopped next to a clone sergeant by a tree not far from the edge of the tree line.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Swift, now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">The sergeant flicked a button on the remote he was holding. In a flash, the tree line burst into flames and a large column of explosions tore through the middle of the enemy crowd.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“That should slow them down,” said Swift.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">“Let’s go.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"">The two left the scene to rejoin their brethren in the forest.