Miscommunications

''The year is 18 BBY. A year after the destructive Clone Wars has ended. On the forest covered planet on Galashae IV, a detachment of the 501st legion was stationed with the 247th legion. The planet had been under siege for more than a year and supplies were drastically low. Prototype droid jamming systems were doing their job as the legion and the 501st detachment have not been able to gain contact from the outside galaxy for some time. What will happen when the Clones and Jedi realize what they have missed over the past year?''

Chapter 1
CT-1346 Private "Sour" quickly shot up, hitting his head on the top bunk with a loud slam!

"Kriff.." he mumbled as he rubbed his head. He scratched his arm and threw his legs and let them hang from his bunk. He looked over to check the clock. It read 0321. Sour sighed and placed his feet on the cold ground. He gazed at the barracks. A square building with an inside-curved roof where light fixtures hung down. He could hear the rumble of friendly and enemy artillery fire in the distance. He was in a 501st only barracks. It held around a hundred men. They were snoozing away, and his bunk mate; Grit was tossing and turning. Sour got up and walked across the barracks and opened the door to the armory. He opened his locker and began suiting up. He had the standard blue 501st armor, however it had blue splatter marks across of it because while it was being decorated they were attacked and some shiny knocked the paint can over. He hinged his armor and then slipped his helmet over his head, it had a crosshairs over a droids metal head on the right temple. Sour tapped a few buttons on his wrist gauntlet and began to speak.

"Sour to Slacker, how's it looking out there?" Sour said as he grabbed his DC-15x and slung it over his back. Taking two DC-17 blaster pistols and slipping them into his holster. He grabbed his DC-15a and shut his locker, turning on the balls of his heels as he walked off. Opening the door at the opposite end of the Armory he was immediately hit with immense heat. His armor slowly began to compensate for the sudden change in temperature as he gazed up at the night sky.

"This is Slacker, looking pretty clear from up here. Isn't your shift not for another 7 hours?" Slacker responded. Sour began walking to the forward wall, walking past other barracks full of tired, battle weary 247th troopers.

"Yeah..bad dream..you know how it is." Sour responded as he walked past a few AT-TEs in the refueling dock. Sour heard a sigh over the private line.

"Yeah..yeah I know brother. Hey, give me some company up at the forward wall. Gets really boring up here." Slacker said, Sour let out a slight chuckle as he walked past the medical center.

"Yeah, give me a few minutes." Sour said as he walked along. He mentally sang to himself, an upbeat song to make the time pass. After a few minutes he approached the ladder, slinging his DC-15a over his back as he ascended up the ladder. He groaned as he pulled himself up the final step and grabbed his DC-15a from his back. He walked up to a trooper who bore plain white armor with two black stripes going down his helmet. The trooper turned around and nodded at Sour. His armor had two black stripes, starting at the shoulder and coming together at the center of the chest. Going straight down to the crotch area, their leggings had black going down the back and front of their legs. Sour clicked off the private communicator and gave a small smile.

"Ey Slacker." Sour said, walking next to his buddy and giving him a pat on the back, looking over the wall. All he saw were trees, but he could just make out the lights glistening in the night of the civilian occupied city of Horon. Sour looked up again, and he could make out the separatist blockade. Providences, Lucerhaulks, Munificants, the whole 9 yards sat still, waiting for the Republic to come and liberate the troopers on the ground.

"Pretty quiet, only thing worth mentioning are the Twi-lek dancers who think they can come in the base during high alert." Slacker said. Sour let out a small laugh as he took his helmet off and took a breath of fresh air. He leaned against the wall and turned his head a little.

"You ever think about what happens when this whole thing is over?" He asked, setting his helmet on the ground. Slacker smirked.

"Gettin' sentimental on me, Brother?" He asked, giving Sour a playful punch on the arm. They stood for a moment in silence before Slacker spoke up. "Eh...go into the merc business probably. Think of it, this war finishes? Clone production will halt, more than half of us will be discharged. Gotta have something to do." He said with no doubt in his voice. Sour pondered for a moment, thinking about whether or not he would join him on his mercenary adventure. He shook his head.

"Ya know..I've thought about it but I just don't know that once this war ends, I want to go back into the fighting. Rumors are, Rex encountered a deserter on Salucami who was a farmer, might do that. Or hunt, could start an animal hunting business." He said, pushing off the wall and standing straight up, cracking his back before yawning. Slacker shook his head, but didn't say anything. He was about to speak when he saw some rustling in the bushes about 50 yards away, just beyond the tree line.

"Sour do me a favor, give me your rifle." Slacker said, not taking his eyes off of where he saw the movement. Sour quickly took his rifle and slid it off of his back, handing it to Slacker, who grabbed it and adjusted the scope before kneeling down and using the wall to keep the rifle steady.

"What is it?" Sour said, whispering, holding his DC-15a in a semi-ready position in case shit hit the fan.

"I don't...know.." Slacker said slowly, adjusting the scope just a little bit to get a closer look. He could barely make out the figure until it stepped into some moon light. It was a Galashaen separatist fighter. The planet of Galashae was split in nearly two, with half of the planet backing the Separatists while the other half either wanted to stay neutral, or they assisted the Republic. The Galashaen's were just regular humans who populated the planet a few thousand years ago.

"Captain, we got movement on the forward wall, bearing 347 north west and moving, could be a scouting party but I got a bad feeling about it." Slacker said into the private comms. CT-5675 "Papa" responded. "Hold your fire and await instructions Slacker, we got the same thing coming from the south side as well." Papa said, leaving the channel silent. Sour grabbed his helmet before speaking.

"Whats the word?" He asked, slipping his helmet on.

"South side is saying the same thing." Slacker said with some anger in his voice. There were about two dozen men stationed on all sides around their base, while the rest of the legions normally slept through the night aside from the medics and high command members who went through shifts at night.

"Captain?" Slacker said into the comms. He waited for an answer but didn't get anything. He got nervous before blaster fire erupted somewhere to their right and someone yelled into the comms.

"This is Till from the west side! We got contact! Get down! Get down! Rocket!" A large ball of fire consumed the west guard post. Sour and Slacker's attention turned there for a moment before out of the corner of Slacker's eye he caught multiple men emerge from the bushes.

"Sour! Contact!" He yelled, aiming his weapon and firing the rifle. Sour responded quickly by taking a few shots. "Captain! Contact north side!" He yelled. Sour saw a man grab a rocket launcher from the bushes and aim it at their position. "Slacker! Get down!" He yelled as he pushed his friend back, the rocket launched and flew at them. Sour got a few shots off, hitting one of the attackers in the knee before the rocket exploded on their position and sent both Sour and Slacker flying backwards and onto the ground of the base, the initial impact sent Sour's helmet across the way and it landed somewhere in front of the barracks. Blaster fire erupted on all sides of the wall, and a firefight ensued. Captain Papa sounded the alarm and ran to the north guard post, where Slacker and Sour lay. Over the speakers a voice yelled.

"All Troopers this is not a drill! Not a drill!" Over and over.

"Slacker! Sour!" The Captain yelled. He had red and black stripes on his helmet, a black pauldron and (name for the skirt) and had twin DC-15 blaster pistols. He took one out and scanned the area before he knelt down and assisted the fallen troopers. Slacker was unconscious but breathing, and Papa took his helmet off. Sour was conscious but in shock, seemingly unable to move. His eyes were wide open, he was hyper ventilating and coughing. His ears were ringing but he could barely make out the sound of Papa yelling for the closes medic.

"Sour! Get! Up!" He yelled in an authoritative voice. By this time the medic had come to Slacker's aid and had begun to address his wounds. Papa grabbed Sours hand and pulled him up, letting Sour use him as a crutch for a few moments before he regained most of his strength. A rocket fired and whistled through the air, destroying the northern wall and giving a clear opening for attacking forces.

"Take your weapons and get ready to fight, Trooper!" He yelled, putting a DC-15a into Sour's hand. Sour nodded and limped to the closest supply crate as cover. He could hear someone yelling his name from the wrist comms.

"Sour! Sour! You good?" The voice asked, it was his bunk mate, CT-2447 "Grit" Grit was just a Trooper, a few ranks lower then  Sour but he was smart. Sour coughed before answering. "Yeah. Yeah I'm good. Get to the north wall!" He ordered, aiming his weapon. A few troopers had emerged from the barracks and were well armed, some with DC-15s's and some with DC-15a's.  Their weapons were trained on the open whole, and they waited with anticipation.

"Contact!" Someone from the 247th yelled, as Galashaens began moving through the hole. An AT-TE was slowly making its way to their position to give assistance. The open comms became cluttered with yelling, gunfire, and orders. He began firing on the moving hostiles and tried to take them down before they entered trough the wall. He looked up overhead and saw a droid dropship swoop down and land Super battle droids and B1's inside the wall. Sour brought his wrist to his face and put his back against the crate, letting blaster fire fly past his head as he spoke.

"Captain! A droid drop ship is dropping B1s and Supers inside the wall!" He said, peaking over the wall and shooting a B1 in the chest, it fell to the ground.

"Copy that." Papa responded. Sour aimed his weapon and began returning fire, the troopers around him did the same as droids, clones, and the CIS armed locals fired upon each other. Sour had nailed Galashaen in the leg before firing again, piercing his chest. The Trooper next to him peaked the corner then fell to the ground, a blaster round disintegrating into his helmet.

"Man down!" Sour yelled, blind firing the corner. He saw a trooper fall to the ground, a medic pulling him away into the corner with what looked like blaster residue on his lower abdomen.

"We're getting cut up out here!" Sour yelled, firing at the mass of droids slowly gaining onto their position. A trooper in front of him got shot, and he pulled him behind his cover, taking his helmet off. The clone was gasping for air.

"Stay with me!" He yelled, peaking the corner and taking a few shots at the incoming droids.

"We need assistance!" He yelled into the open comms. There was no direct answer, everyone needed some form of assistance or another. He was about to give up hope before he heard a crazy voice over the comms.

"Am I late for the party boys?" CT-6642 "Lassic" yelled over the radio. He fired the quad lasers at the droids and local rebels, the droids were destroyed with ease and the rebels began to fall back behind the wall. Jedi Master Logan Ukzuli, a human jedi, was accompanied by his Padawan, Hope Ikzilli, one of the only Chiss in the Jedi Order. They hung onto the AT-TE as it moved forward slowly, disembarking and igniting their sabers. The rebels put up a fight and began to push forward. Sour peeked the corner and fired again, shooting one in the left side of his body. He was dragged away from a buddy when Padawan Hope got to his position.

"Sour!" She yelled, smiling a little. They had bonded during his time with the 127th. She blocked a few laser bolts and took some cover next to him.

"Commander Hope" He acknowledged, firing a few shots.

"Captain, the North Side is almost clear!" He yelled into his wrist comms before putting his back against the supply crates.

"Copy that!" Papa responded. The resistance had lowered on each side as Clones began to flood the defense routes.

Sour turned the corner and began firing, hitting two in the process. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a grenade fly above cover and land next to him. He turned towards the Padawan, who was currently oblivious of the situation and he pushed her away.

"Grenade! Get down!"