Member
Commander Spook
99th Storm Battalion
2nd Infantry Regiment
2nd Infantry Regiment
Commander Spook, unsettled by the decision to ensure the lives of thousands to a cat, turned to his new comrade. "Looks like we'll be working closely from now on, General."
On route to Fort Garrick
The LAAT flew smoothly until the skies split with thunder and shrapnel. The transport ship juddered in the air and the teeth of the men to his left and right clacked together. The trooper to his left tightened the fist around the pistol grip and Spook watched as his hands relaxed and constricted at even intervals. The commander flicked through his HUD and changed the communication channel to 'Regiment'. "Listen up 2nd. This may be out first battle, but we have proved ourselves for 10 years. For 10 years we have grown and evolved from younglings to men to warriors, the hands that will carry the Jedi, the backs that break under the weight of the Republic. Do not sacrifice your life for something you may not believe in, but for your friends to your left and to your right. For your major's who have raised you like their children. For me, because you are my men. Whatever happens on the ground below, remember that you are not a clone. You are an individual. We will not leave you or forsake you, and we will fight for you and you fight for one another. Fight for the end and for victory, for survival. Your comrades will do the same," the Commander said. Major Angel, who was seated near the front of the ship, contacted Spook. "That was beautiful, General. I'll see you in the dirt."
"I'll see you down there. Survive this, Angel, I need you. You're a good man," Spook replied. He looked back at Angel and they met each others steely gaze, a slight nod between the two. This would be a tricky battle, their first. He had no doubt that the 2nd and the 99th would prove themselves beyond a doubt; but how many good men like Angel would have to die for their recognition? As far as Spook was concerned, a single soldier of his was too much but that was unrealistic. There was only one way to measure this and that was to count the empty seats on the ride home. Spook looked along the other side of the LAAT to Vail Lencer, their designated Jedi. He had obviously proven himself to become a Knight, but what use was a General that didn't speak, but the descent of the LAAT to ground triggered Vail. Spook listened carefully and shook his head minutely. Telling a clone bred for war to have fun? Telling an untested clone bred for war to have fun? They were tense, anxious, prepared but frightened. Fun wasn't even above luck in the things necessary for war.
The rear doors opened and an enemy shot sped through the centre walkway striking the plating behind the cockpit. "99th, on me! Get those damned clankers!" The soldiers ejected from their seats and rushed out in to the rising tide of red rounds, slowly being fought back by the green undercurrent.
417th Flagship Ven 000417 “Red Draigon”
"Men, your attention," Commander Spook said. The soldiers stopped their chatting and turned in their seats, backs arched straight and knees together. A good sign for the incoming battle, they were disciplined. "We're going to war today."
The hall groaned with silence. The rushing water in the pipes behind the walls was like white noise rising in intensity. "I've just come from a discussion with Commander Blue of the 1st, the Admiral, and two Jedi. The objectives have been determined, which are to help Dar Stochen and his resistance force by breaking the siege of Fort Garrick by Separatist droids. I want you all to remember that Dar Stochen and his men are the sole reason we still have a chance on this planet. Rest assured, soldiers, that we will do everything we can to help this man. Now, for the plan of attack," the Commander said. He pressed a button on the interface he held on his hand and a map of Fort Garrick grew from a small device on the floor. A squat, sprawling building shimmered into view, the image a ghostly blue. "This is Fort Garrick," the Commander stated. He circled around the building in red. "This is the Separatist army. We need to get past them to make contact with Stochen and then contact Commander Blue. The officers have discussed this and we have devised the plan that we feel best suit the situation. Garrick is on the relatively flat plains underneath Mantellia Conlis. Besides Conlis, there's nothing but rolling plains for miles. We can't advance from the ground, and we can't hide. Conlis is too far for an effective advance from cover, but it can be used. The first step is to encircle the droids though. Therefore we'll be hitching a ride on the LAAT's until we're only a half a kilometre out. I'm trusting our pilots can evade whatever artillery we encounter as we haven't had any reports on numbers. The LAAT's will fly in from eight different directions, from above cloud cover and reducing to low-altitude for the advance. You will evacuate the ship and spread out, about 1.5 metres apart from our calculations. At that point you will lay waste to anything that does not have flesh. I want you to fire and fire until every clanker is scrap metal. You will not move from your position, and you will not lose your position. You have the advantage in training and in weaponry. Once the clankers have been engaged, and hoping their artillery is distracted, a single LAAT hiding behind Conlis will fly into Fort Garrick and reinforce them with weapons and troops, who will then attack the enemy from inside. The LAAT from behind Conlis has to be fast, it has to be speeding to the ground. We're hoping it can reach inside the Fort before the droids realising anything. Whoever that pilot is, we need you to do that. We need you to bet in there faster than you've ever plummeted and to be able to land it. The LAAT doesn't even have to be in one piece! But my troops do, so we need you to succeed. After that, it's simply a job of exterminating. Soldiers of the 2nd, you are the bravest men anyone could ever hope to work with. Prepare yourselves, and meet at the launching bay in one hour." The Commander caught the eye of Major Angel departing, who looked melancholic. The days of simulations were dead; may the days of bloodshed commence.
Breaking the siege of Fort Garrick
The sunlight peaking around the tip of Mantellia Conlis was blinding. The Commander and half of the 99th had the extremely unfortunate luck to be fighting into the sun. "Company, increase the darkness on your visors! This sun will kill us before the enemy gets the chance to! Fire at will!" Spook roared. He rolled the setting down and suddenly the gravitas of the situation became clear, red lasers blocked out the light and all of his men were diving into the dirt for better protection and steadier aim. Their instincts were working well, they were showing they were soldiers. Spook swelled with pride that burst when an enemy blaster round singed the dirt by his left elbow. He swivelled back to face the enemy and fired rounds at solid enemies he could distinguish. Any target would do. The droids scrambled around in sheer panic, allowing the clones to suppress them. Suddenly the red glare of receiving fire died away like the sunrise to the effervescent bliss of morning sunshine. Which, in this case, was the glorious green of the 2nd Regiment. Droids retreated behind cover while the clones suppressed them. A practice which was going swimmingly until the artillery blew up some men only forty metres away. Their bodies hurled upwards, limbs detaching at the apex of their leap and landed a few feet from the owner. "Company, return fire! DO not let the droids gain the upper hand here, we need to keep their heads down and blasters pointed away!" Spook informed his soldiers. Another round delimbed soldier to his right, followed by another two rounds to his left. They had three guns, he had realised. The first two had been slow on the uptake when the clones first attacked, but they had joined in now.
"Conlis Company, get in the air. On my mark, swing around the mountain and get that ship in the Fort!" the Commander said. "Roger, good copy. On your mark," the pilot responded. Another set of rounds hit the ground shredding soldiers. Those rounds were coming ten seconds apart. Spook waited until the next set landed. More soldiers disintegrated. 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... "Launch! Get yourself in there immediately!" Eruption.
Commander Spook woke up startlingly. He glanced around the sky, lolling his head side to side. He was still on Ord Mantell, easily defined by the raging battle taking place. Spook looked to his left and saw the crater followed by the shape of a baked helmet; the head was still attached. The tail of the LAAT was sticking out of the ground, heavy spirals of smoke twirling into the blue ocean above. Spook activated his comlink. "Angel... did you get... in the... Fort..." No reply. "Angel... Major Angel..." Static.
"I'm really busy right now Spook! The buckets of bolts caught on quicker than we anticipated, and a few lucky shots managed to bring us down. Poor pilot got it through the kidney. Thankfully he exploded to death," Angel responded. The sound of rapid blaster fire told him Angel was performing as should. "What... about the others?" Spook asked. He coughed up some blood and groaned before sitting himself up. "Most of us survived, but the clankers are starting to fire at us instead!" Angel replied.
Spook stood up shakily. He changed communication channels to 'Regiment' again and breathed deeply before talking. "We got our men in but they're in a lot of danger right now. The droids have started attacking them, and the state of play of the Fort is that the droids are going to storm them before the hour is done. Our men are in there, let's show these rust-buckets what humans do for their own," Spook said. He picked his own rifle up and levelled it at the sources of the red lasers. Pshow, pshow, pshow pshow pshow, pshowpshowpshow. Droid after droid fell as the men of the 2nd advanced together, uniformly. The ones that Spook aimed at weren't necessarily the ones that fell, more than occasionally it was the ones nearby due to his wobbly walking, but the only good droid is a broken droid. Spook continued firing. The closing circle of clones stopped at the edge of the droids' defenses. They used these barricades and husked vehicles to recuperate, regain their breath, compose their aim. Many of them still fired over the top, trying to eliminate the remaining few droids. Only a few dozen remained but they had encamped themselves in the maze of their siege defenses, so rooting them out would be tricky. "Soldiers, this is as close to CQC as I intend to get on this planet. Group up in fours, watch your corners and watch each others backs'. Let's get these bolts." At that, three soldiers hurried to Spook. "We're with you, Commander," the first said. "What's your name, soldier?" Spook asked. "The name's Squeal, this is Whiplash-" motioning to the soldier a distance back behind his left shoulder, "and that's Blowhole. Whiplash is on point," Squeal said. Spook, never one to damper initiative especially when the men had fought and achieved, followed orders.
Whiplash turned the corners without the barrel of the DC-15A rifle even shaking. He was evidently a marksman, designated by the longer blaster rifle. Whiplash had once missed a corner on his advance, and a droid had flung himself at the clone as it had obviously run out of ammo enough to resort to melee. Squeal had charged forward and launched the droid nearly 10 feet through the air and into a rusted tank hull. It was at that point Blowhole screamed and lunged forward, his boot rocketing into the droids casing and decimating the robot-equivalent of a skull. The ability to understand at an instant the need of a comrade's help and the immediate reaction to save his friend was enthralling. The way they traversed this maze, and saved Whiplash's life was nothing short of miraculous. If the rest of his regiment showed as much loyalty as these three did, his men were unbeatable. It was then the call over the comlink came: "Sectors are clear, all droids have been eradicated."
The howling, manical cheering was infectious. Their first mission was not only an extreme success, but one that was vital to the first steps to winning the war. Squeal, Blowhole, and Whiplash danced and sang, shaking each other hands. "I must say, you three were very impressive. Which battalion are you?" Spook asked. Whiplash responded, "We're all from the 75th Attack Battalion." SPook thought about this for a moment. "No you're not, you're part of the 99th now. Welcome to the elite boys, you all deserve it."
Inside the Fort, Spook walked through the crowds until he found Angel with a younger clone ursing a head wound. Blood pulsed out and his skin was as pale as an exogorth. Angel stood and walked to Spook. "Damn kid saved my life. Took a laser to the brain when I got shot in the arm trying to defend me," he said morosely. "He's not a kid, Angel. You are the same age. He was brave, we'll make sure he gets a burial. How are you?" Spook asked. Angel shrugged, tired and sad. A dirty, bloody trooper walked past. "Trooper! Find me Dar Stochen and the Jedi cat, Lencer."
