The Rudrig System was quiet, only for a moment though. The silence of dead space ended when an Imperial Battle Fleet exited hyperspace just far enough from the planet Rudrig to not be detected by any possible sensors. The fleet consisted of one Imperial Star Destroyer; the Adamant, several Nebulon B Escort Frigates, and several CR90 Imperial Corvettes. In total there were eight warships. As they crawled toward the planet, the sunlight of the system bounced off of their reinforced hulls giving them a regal appearance. This battle group was a true testament to the Empire's mightiness and an awesome sign of their intentness on destroying the Rebel Alliance's presence. This was all part of the offensive known widely in the Empire as Operation Strike Fear and it was the first and hopefully the last one there would be.

"Lieutenant Muul, are the men ready?" asked a tall, stocky Imperial Officer. His thick mustache seemed to twitch as he spoke.

"Yes Captain, I made sure that they were ready even before we exited hyperspace. Do you wish me to do anything else before we get into orbit of the planet?" asked Kaasi Muul. His face was cold and emotionless. Not something you would expect from a young officer; but he was no normal officer, he was a Stormtrooper Corps officer.

"No that will be all Lieutenant, get yourself ready, you will make a fine leader one day, lets hope in that day there will be no scum such as these peasants that call themselves the Rebel Alliance." said Captain Kinna.

"Of course not, we shall destroy their presence in this Galaxy once and for all after this offensive," replied Kaasi.

"Indeed, now go on, no sense in being late when you were intent on getting the men ready before yourself," ordered Captain Kinna.

Kaasi walked out briskly and headed off to get dressed in his armor. Captain Kinna was right, why be late for one's own party? Kaasi quickly dressed himself and headed off to the armory to check out his E-11 Carbine. As he did so, he put his helmet on and took the nearest turbolift to the hangar. Today Captain Kinna had let Kaasi lead the company as he had much paperwork to do and their superiors had said this would be a quick clean-up. Kaasi got to the hangar and to the dropship where Blue Company was waiting. all the men snapped to attention and saluted the First Lieutenant. He briskly returned the salute and they returned to sitting in the compartment of the dropship.

They had been assigned to the Adamant when Operation Strike Fear orders had been given out. Certain elements of the 501st Legion and a few other units had been designated as the ground compliment to the offensive, and the other units looked up to the 501st greatly. After all they were Vader's Fist and they deserved such respect. Kaasi snapped out of thought for a moment when the company's First Sergeant had caught his attention.

"Sir?" called First Sergeant "Sparks".

"Yes Sergeant?" replied Kaasi.

"Well, I was wondering what sort of support will we be getting if things get nasty down there, sir." continued Sparks. His thick accent gave away the fact that he was one of the few ex-Clone Troopers still with the Legion. His actual identity was CT-1132.

"We won't be needing any by the looks of things. But if we do need anything the TIE's won't be far off Sergeant." reassured Kaasi.

"Alright, that's all I needed to know sir," said Sparks as he sat back down.

The speakers in the hangar blared to life with the call to scramble all dropships and escorts. The Battle Fleet was in orbit of Rudrig. The boarding ramps of all the ships closed up and the troop compartment was dark for an instant until the pilot flipped a switch and it was lit up with a dim, red light. Kaasi and the men strapped themselves in and the dropship came to life. It hovered for a moment and then went at a slow speed out of the belly of the metal monster that was the Imperial Star Destroyer Adamant. Eventually the dropships went into a tight formation and the TIE fighter escorts boxed them in at each angle. As the ships flew toward the atmosphere, booming noise was heard as the warships belched green turbolasers toward the ground to provide the dropships with covering fire and kill off any rebels stupid enough to be unsheltered.

Light flak exploded around the formation as the Rebels tried futilely to ward off the onslaught of Imperial ground forces from landing on the surface. A couple unlucky escort fighters were hit and exploded as well as one of the dropships. The dropship rattled as flak rounds exploded around the formation. Eventually, the dropships landed near the base on Rudrig and the ramps that had been closed before exploded open allowing troops to surge from each one.

"Go go go! See that ridge ahead!? Set up all PBR's facing the base! For the Emporer!" shouted Kaasi in a rush of adrenaline. He was the last one out and heard sizzles and pops as blaster bolts scattered around him. As his company bellied out on the ridge near the base, he ran to join them. He saw a few unlucky Army dogs get their heads blown off as he dove for the ridge.

Kaasi grabbed his electrobinocs from his waist and peered over the ridge as the men around him opened fire on Rebel positions. He looked to his left and saw a platoon of Imperial Army soldiers make a mad dash at the Rebel base and get cut down by turbolaser emplacements. He looked to First Sergeant Sparks and pulled him close.

"I want first platoon to make a rush down this ridge and have the PBR's concentrate all fire on the right turbolaser emplacement. Have second platoon make a dash for the boulders down a meter away while first gets cut to pieces! I will contact Gold Company, and those Army dogs down the ridge! Go!" ordered Kaasi.

The old Sergeant nodded and passed the word down to the lieutenants in charge of those companies. Kaasi retrieved his comlink from a pouch and dialed in Gold Company.

"Gold coin! Gold coin! This is Blue Bantha, do you copy?! Over!" yelled Kaasi into the comlink.

"This is Gold coin, what do you need Blue Bantha!? Over!" replied the voice of Captain Seens.

"Where do you plan to move!? Over!"

"We are going on a flanking mission around the base! Over!"

"Roger that! Blue Bantha out!"

Kaasi watched as first platoon was cut down while second dashed for the boulders. All was going as planned, but the Rebels were tougher than Kaasi had expected. He watched as the leader of first platoon was hit in the stomach and nearly cut in half. He shook it off and watched second platoon, they were in cover behind the boulders, but were taking heavy fire. He got on his comlink and dialed in to the Army unit pinned heavily on the hill.

"Red Sky! Red Sky! This is Blue Bantha, do you copy!? Over!"

"This is Red Sky what do you need Blue Bantha!? Over!"

"Get your rocket launchers set up and aim for the Rebel defensive positions! We will cover you! Over!"

"Roger that! Red Sky out!"

"Give those Army Dogs covering fire!" shouted Kaasi over the sounds of battle.

Re: The Golden Days

“At ease, soldiers,”

The rag-tag militia of the Alliance had adopted several examples of military protocol, though given the sheer range of peoples that joined up these were not as strictly maintained as they would be amongst professional troops. “At ease” translated into anything from stop saluting to have a seat or back to work, depending on the officer and the situation. Disorder and inconsistency was the norm. Attempts had been made elsewhere, and had even succeeded, at disciplining the ranks of the infantry, but to that point it was still too fragile a set up for universal application. Ma Xuz – or Marcus, as he had come to think of himself; courtesy of a phonetic translation of his name into basic – had been drafted into one of the less standardized regiments, and as a consequence the colonel’s order was met with mixed reactions. Silence did fall, but the some of the assorted soldiers merely remained were they were while others saluted or uttered tentative “sir”s.

The concern with rank all but highlighted the inexperience and uncertainty of a good dozen troopers. They were the greenest of the green; impromptu replacements after a disastrous stint elsewhere that had annihilated nigh unto half of the squadron. The less responsive lot were ironically the real fighters of their troupe, as disdain for rigid officialism didn’t so much signify a lack of experience it as did the lack of an army background. Smugglers, mercenaries and former criminals were not uncommon combatants; indeed, they had an advantage over most of their peers in being used to living dangerously.

Marcus was not. Although he had come a long way since his first skirmish, he was a veteran in name only and had no illusions of that it came down to anything but luck.

The colonel hesitated, clearly as unsure of what to make of the situation as the grunts he addressed. Abandoned storage areas made for curious assemblies. Improvisation had the man mounting a nearby crate, from which he was better seen and therefore also better heard. It drew parallels to old-fashioned union meetings.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors already, men. An Imperial fleet has just arrived in the system. Our shields provide cover from enemy bombardment for now, but we’re likely to have company on the ground before long. Full frontal assault,”

“Now, I ain’t gonna lie to you, men; they’ve caught us with our pants down for this one. We’re abandoning base, though..,” He paused momentarily for effect. “You have to buy us the time we need to evacuate,”

Figures. They'd die giving the high command a chance at resuming their hopeless game of hide and seek.

“You are to keep the enemy at bay for as long as you can, then fall back to the rendezvous points for extraction. Report to your groups for further orders. Best of luck to you,”

The serenity of the briefing quickly dissolved into a hub-bub of activity as people returned to their previous doings. Soon it was accompanied by an appropriate murmur of talking voices, shouts and various other noises that were natural for a mobilizing battle force. Rather than standing about, Marcus got moving to join up with his squadron. The front line called. The proverbial gateway to hell..

He’d been there before. That didn’t mean he was eager to get back, but he might as well as get on with it. The waiting was, after all, the worst part. He’d come to cherish the routine preparations that preceded field service, as in performing memorized tasks he could switch off thoughts of what awaited him. Unfortunately one could only check one’s blaster so many times. The waiting always came about, and with it a sense of dread was inevitable. The psychological factor; as crippling as a disabled extremity. “Everyone’s afraid,” He mumbled, clutching his side-arm as he peered out the bunker he was confined to. “Everyone’s afraid, Marcus. It’s acting despite the fear that counts,”

So he kept telling himself, looking inward to summon his courage rather than finding it his fellows around him. The effectiveness of that approach was as debatable as that of any other way. Calm always faded with the first sign of battle. For him it tended to manifest in trembling, and sure enough that was what it came to when the heavy bangs of the flak cannons announced the descent of their foe.

“The bold frakkers are coming down right in our front yard,” Someone muttered to his right, but Marcus chose not to peak his head up for nothing. He could hear the approach of the drop ships just fine from where he was. Shots from the turbo laser enplacements added to the symphony as the hiss of the troop transports came within range; a frantic discord of a piece that was accompanied by undertones of blaster fire.

“FIRE AT WILL!,” The sergeant suddenly barked, to which he cocked his blaster rifle and got to his feet. So it began. The first waves of white clad devils – imps for short – were easy pickings, but not without losses on the rebel side. Soldiers to his left and right fell to injuries both shallow and mortal; some shrieking in pain on the floor, others getting up to carry on with their job in spite of themselves.  Eerie precision. Only by mere chance did he remain standing.

“Concentrate fire on those boulders,” Someone shouted over the radio, indicating a line of massive stones behind which the enemy covered once they’d crossed the ridge that separated the base from the landing site. He only got a glimpse of it before an intense barrage of blaster fire forced him and his peers to duck for cover. Suppression of the survival instinct was supposedly key, though that was hard to achieve without proper training. The imperials were at an advantage. Surely only the laser batteries presented serious challenge. Hopefully that would suffice.

Hopefully..

“INCOMING!,”

He barely had time to register the warning before the world exploded in light and fire. He found himself pushed backwards onto the ground, the ringing in his ears blocking out all other sounds around him. Before he could scramble to his feet he found himself dragged backwards to safety. “I’m OK! I’m OK!,” He growled, trying to resist. Sound was gradually coming back to him. Chatter on the radio was the first he perceived; rocket launchers, turrets down, backup needed, air support? Dazed and confused, he pushed himself to his feet. Someone addressed him, but he couldn’t quite make out the words; was too astounded by the fiery havoc around him, by the torn-apart bodies that littered the floor and the gaping hole were the missile had impacted with their fortifications.

“I said can you walk, soldier?,” He jolted back to reality as the very same somebody slapped the side of his helmet.

“Sir, yes sir,” He responded, forcing himself to focus.

“Good lad. Take this,” A blaster rifle was handed to him, forced into his arms. He hadn’t even realized he’d dropped his own. “You’re lucky to be alive, soldier. Let’s see if you can stay that way. Follow me,”

Re: The Golden Days

"We're in business! Third platoon get those motars set up! Fourth Platoon cover Second's advance!" ordered Kaasi.

The First Lieutenant wiped some dirt off of his visor and helped Fourth Platoon give covering fire. Rebels were now clearly visible in the holes made by the rockets from the Army Dogs. As the mortars were set up, Kaasi gave the coordinates of the top of the Rebel stronghold. He figured if they were going to hide like rodents, the roof will crush them like rodents. The mortars hit heavily onto the roof. Pieces of durasteel flung in all directions as the light artillery began pounding holes in the roof. Kaasi shot his E-11 Carbine on fully automatic, spraying two exposed Rebels. The stormtroopers with the PBR's switched out smoking barrels and Kaasi looked to his right and saw the Imperial Army rushing down the ridge toward the fort. He looked to fourth platoon and pulled Sergeant Sparks to him.

"Have those PBR's cover the Army's advance! Concentrate all fire on the holes where the turbolasers used to be!"

"Yes sir! Concentrate fire on those holes!" yelled the Sergeant.

Kaasi saw the opportunity to get a final rush on the stronghold. He grabbed Lieutenant Groms; leader of Fourth Platoon and had the man order his men over the ridge. Kaasi and Sparks followed close behind. As they descended the ridge, rocks tumbled and dirt was kicked up, a few troopers lost their footing for a few moments, but regained it shortly. They eventually got to more level ground and began running for the fort. Kaasi saw as a few lucky Rebels hit one of his men every now and then, but for the most part it was clear that they were on their last leg. That's when Kaasi saw Gold Company spring into action near the side of the stronghold. One trooper laid a detpack on the wall and the backed off. It exploded and the ninety or so men rushed in.

As Kaasi's men got close enough he ordered thermal detonators to be thrown in the nearest hole. All the troopers carrying them pressed the button on top of the grenades and threw them in. Explosions rocked the ground and the stormtroopers began climbing in. That's when Kaasi remembered the orders to not let them retreat into the nearby university. So that meant kill them all.

"For the Emperor! Kill all these traitors!" screamed Kaasi as he climbed through the hole.

The Army was already on their way in. The battle had been going on for almost an hour and a half, and the Rebels were already being crushed. Kaasi laughed to himself about how weak the Rebel defenses had been. As he looked around the stronghold, he realized how big it might be and how easily there could be some kind of door leading out. The Lieutenant folded the stock on his E-11 to make it more suitable for close quarters combat and continued to use fully automatic. As the men rushed in, he met with Second Platoon's leader Lieutenant Heen.

"Heen, I want your men to find out if there is some kind of underground level in this building, if so, clear it out. Do not take any surrendering scum. They die here, and if you see any try to escape, have the sharpshooters deal with them!" shouted Kaasi.

"Yes sir!" replied the young Lieutenant. Kaasi saw on his face shock. This was the man's first combat mission and he had only been out of the Academy for a week. The look on his face made Kaasi snicker under his helmet. Hesitation was the enemy for Heen.

Kaasi crouched through the halls on the toes of Fourth Platoon and Sergeant Sparks. As the First Lieutenant walked by a closet, he heard something rattle. He quickly pressed the button near it and the door slid open. Inside was a female Bothan and two small children. The Bothan growled at him and he took up his carbine.

"Die you Rebel, alien scum!" screamed Kaasi Muul as he pulled the trigger and sprayed all of them. Just to make sure they were dead he grabbed a thermal det from a dead stormtrooper nearby and popped it in. He closed the closet and walked off. The closet door flew off with flames ejecting and the smell of burnt flesh.

The Stormtrooper Officer felt little remorse for doing what he had done. After all they were the enemy like everyone else in this damned place. He caught up with Fourth Platoon quickly after hearing blaster fire break out. He sprinted to find the platoon pinned down on either side of the hallway by a mass of Rebels using closets and crates for cover. He poked his head around the corner of one wall and nearly was shot in the head. This hall was not able to be flanked because it ended in the armory that housed all the weapons the Rebels had on this planet. He knew there would be something like this because it was part of the layout he had studied of other captured Rebel bases. The Armory was always the last stand for any forces near it. They guarded those weapons like it was the freedom they were fighting for.

Kaasi gave hand signs to roll all thermal dets down the hall that they could or launch them down. If these Rebels weren't going to come out of the hall and own up to their crimes, there would be no hall for them to defend. Either that or they would be stupid enough to think that surrender was an option. As they rolled a few down the hall and they exploded, the crowding of the Rebels turned against them. Soon enough they surrendered. A rag-tag group of them yelled for surrender and Kaasi ordered a cease fire with a smile.

"Come out quietly and you will not be killed!" yelled the First Lieutenant.

The Rebels filed out one-by-one. There were twenty of them. Kaasi had them line up on their knees and he took his helmet off so they could see his face before they died. He had them give their ranks. Nearly all of them were privates and one lieutenant. Kaasi had his men line up and aim their blasters at the "prisoners".

"Treason is punishable by death you Rebel dogs!" yelled Kaasi.

He got in line with his men and the Stormtroopers opened fire. The Rebels were cut down in a hail of red blaster bolts. A few had been left incredibly injured. For this, Kaasi took his sidearm out. He shot all of the ones still twitching in the head. None could survive, none. This was now an extermination of pests, and Kaasi had become the exterminator.

"Well, Sparks, our job is nearly done," snickered Kaasi as they walked over the dead bodies.

"It would seem so sir, but I would like to hope for more battles in the future, I mean I get paid more if that happens," said the Sergeant with a smile.

"Haha I do as well, this is not the end of them, I am reluctant to say that they seem to have bases in hundreds of systems throughout the Galaxy. It will only be a matter of time before they are all wiped out though," explained Kaasi.

"Indeed sir," replied Sparks.

"Someone check in with Second Platoon, I want to know if they have found anything undergound, and if not what is taking them so damn long!" ordered Kaasi.

Re: The Golden Days

It took him quite a bit of willpower to resist the urge to check for other survivors and turn his back on the scenery. Yet his rescuer had already started down the corridor that led away from the battle, and judging by the carnage that had been wrought upon the front-line defenses it was probably about time to fall back. He recognized the man as one of the battle-hardened mercenary types; a squat, muscular Devaronian with a solid look about him. Although he recognized him as one of the chattier cats of the unit, Xuz could not remember his name for the life of him.

Tip of the tongue syndrome. In any case it wasn’t imperative.

The chatter on the radio had taken on a desperate note that reflected the imperial advance. It had been helpful as something to concentrate on as he returned to his senses, but as he sped after his savior en route to gods knew where he wished he could have turned it off. Orders, damage reports and battle-cries alike contributed to the dread of defeat, thus imbuing him with a terror unparalleled to anything he’d previously experienced. Simultaneously the action had kicked him into gear. Although bruised and battered, keeping the Devaronian’s pace was hardly an effort. Indeed, physically he felt as if he could have kicked the frak out of a crayt dragon.

Sense versus madness. The first spurred him on; the second compelled him to stand and fight.

Any rebel troops that passed them headed in their opposite direction, though in his disorientated state it took him a while to make sense of what was happening. Of all that was communicated, one order alone remained permanent.

“All units, fall back to the armory,”

Whatever for mattered not. Something concrete to go on was a start, and he did not like how his remaining group member was leading him away from the only beacon of stability there was.

“Armory’s that way,” He shouted, slowing to a halt at an intersection. The Devaronian didn’t stop; merely slowed his advance as he replied.

“Yeah, I know. You wanna die, kiddo? ‘cause then the armory’s the place to be,”

He blinked, uncomprehending. Distant explosions far above shook the entire complex; after which a voice on the telecom announced the inevitability of defeat.

“Imperial troops have entered the base. Repeat; Imperial troops have entered the base,”

“Point in case. We’re losing, kiddo,” The soldier continued, turning to beckon him on. “The Alliance won’t benefit from your death; nor will you. And believe me, if you go to the armory you will die. Storm troopers don’t take prisoners if they can help it,”

Hesitation ensued.

”I’m getting out of here; I suggest you tag along. Though if you wanna follow orders and die like a good soldier, be my guest,”

He earned a final look before the mercenary got moving again. Indecisiveness held him back, but the sound of blaster fire within the compound expelled any aspirations at Semper Fi. There was a point to what had been spoken just a moment ago, after all. The rebellion needed people, not corpses, to carry it out. Self-preservation was therefore justified.

Panic ensued, reinforced by the sudden radio silence. He abandoned caution and started running at a frantic pace, half expecting to have lost what could be his only way out.

“Hey, hey, hey!,”

The exclamation greeted him as he rounded a corner. He found himself at gunpoint, alliance-clad soldiers sizing him up.

“It’s cool, it’s cool!,” He shouted, raising his hands skyward as he did so. Even real soldiers could get trigger-happy when appropriately battle-crazed; shooting first and asking later. As half the ranks of the alliance consisted of wannabes and substitutes, the risk of friendly fire was palpable indeed.

A bulky human spoke up, his voice expressing relief. He came off as nervous and jittery, eyes darting every which way at every sound.

“You scared the frak outta me, whatever you are,”

“Frak, yeah,” Was added by a twi'lek female; her disapproval apparent. “Ever heard of caution, gecko boy?,”

“Go easy on him,” The Devaronian spoke. “He’s a greenie,”

"I can see that,"

"In the figurative sense. Shut it, will ya?,

Deep breathing facilitated some measure of calm. There was a total of five of them, himself included, though he wasn’t sure their situation guaranteed safety in numbers.

“Back to it. Quickly now. What do we do?,”

“Hangar bay. Evac,”

“Crawling with Imps by now, most likely. Even if not, we’d be blasted to smithereens by the Imp fleet without covering fire,”

“Disguise. Snag some storm trooper plate and walk out the front door!,”

“Like you could get hold of any without burning a hole in it first. ‘sides, any troopers coming our way are bound to be more than just a few. I’d like to see us take out a unit on our own,”

"Or for our blue and red friends here to fit their cranial appendages into trooper helmets,"

"Huh?,"

"Ever seen an imp with tchun-tchins? Ah, forget it,"

Right. The banter aside, they were brainstorming for possible escape routs.

He had an idea.

“We get rid of our gear and pose as civilians,”

“Uh-uh. They’re killing prisoners and civilians alike. Real slaughterhouse over there,”

The bothan who shared it had calmly motioned toward the base control room as he spoke. Given the implications of the statement the feline creature was making a commendable effort at keeping itself together. Xuz wished he could say the same for himself. He'd heard stories of storm trooper brutality in the past, but that was not akin to being stuck in the middle of it. At least the others' exclamations of shock and disgust reassured him that it was natural to react.

The bothan continued, keeping the conversation on track.

“Sublevel’s mostly storage areas; conveniently located where most wouldn’t think to look. Didn't this use to be a smuggler’s base? Any gun-runner gone stationary would have implemented a back door in case things get too hot,”

“There’s the next best thing,” The human confirmed. “An entrance to the sewer system. There might be a way out through it,”

“What, we’ll just hope there is?,”

“Got a better idea?,”

“Yeah, let’s make for the nearest exit and run for it,”

“No good. They’ve likely surrounded us by now,”

"Blast it. Always loved the smell of excrement,"

“Sublevel it is, then. Let’s move it,”

It was fast forward in slow-motion from there. Although battle raged about them, they got to the turbolift without needless confrontations – or rather to where the lift had been prior to the destruction wrought upon the base by the enemy artillery.

They took to the stairs, descending rapidly.

The sublevel was deserted; presumably evacuated already. No imps or friendlies about. The corridor leading from the stairs and elevator shafts to the storage area was only half intact, having caved in somewhat by the same blast that had rendered the elevators useless. Still they got past it and into the structure/cave hybrid that made out the bottom level of the base. Serving its original purpose, it was full of crates packed with who knew what; presumably food and supplies.

“I’ve been down here a few times,” The human again, speaking as he was taking the lead. “The hatch to the sewers is in the parallel chamber. A few months back we were sent in there to kill pests that threatened to – FRAK!,”

Climax turned anti-climax. The storage area was clearly segmented; divided by not insubstantial blast doors that separated one area from the next. The first set was closed. The man had aimed to remedy that, moving to manipulate a console as he spoke, but nothing had happened. He tried again with the same results, which provoked a stream of supposed profanity in a language Xuz didn’t understand.

“Out of the way, I’ll get to it,”

The twi’lek pushed him aside and begun to examine the controls. The jittery human muttered something about slicers under his breath, whereas the bothan wondered aloud why there were no astromechs about when one needed them. Deep philosophic enquiry, that, followed by…

… the approaching tak-tak-tak of multiple boots on metal surface.

“We’ve got company!,”

“Some place for a standoff, aye? Get behind those crates for cover!,”

Fear resurfaced as Xuz ducked down behind a container. There was only one way in, and the narrow passage around the wreckage in the corridor augmented the defensibility of their position. On the other hand there was no way out. He didn’t know the twi’lek woman beyond perhaps superficial recognition, but he sorely hoped she knew what she was doing.

“Hold it,”

A barely audible whisper to his left. In his growing anguish he couldn’t identify the speaker.

“Wait until they’re close enough. Hang on,”

The footsteps came closer; changed rhytm and sound as it reached the bottom of the stairs. The Imps were not stupid; they were not about to charge through a proverbial bottleneck head-first.

“Hold it,”

Closer it came, though not the full sum of the enemy. Xuz understood what they hoped to do; lure the full numbers of the force on to where they’d be without cover. Clever tactic. Perhaps they had a chance after all.

“Hold i-,”

“What if it’s our own?,” Someone hissed.

“Like frak it is. Now-,”

“I’m not gonna -,”

“Shut it!,”

“Frak you!,”

Insubordination was seldom rewarded. Blaster fire commenced as the speaker had the guts to stick his head out; he returned fire, as did they all. The first few storm troopers were caught in the thick of it and were quickly brought down, but others came behind.

They had aces up their sleeves, too.

“Detonators!,” Xuz shouted as he ducked down, having caught sight of the objects lobbed into their midst. The blast was deafening; comparable to the explosion he had prevailed earlier. The solid container kept him out of harm’s way, however, shielding him from the subsequent spray of shrapnel. He got back to it, tinnitus ringing in his ears.

“Between the four of us we won’t keep them at bay forever!,”

“Stay at it,” Someone barked in return. “Keep an eye on your magazines. I scrounged a few more off the deaders back at the front, but they won’t last forever. Make your shots count!,”

“Door, Al’?,”

“Yeah, get the frakking door open!,”

“I’m on it! I'm on it! Shut up and buy me a few minutes!,”

Re: The Golden Days

Kaasi looked at his watch. The assault was ahead of schedule, but if the troopers that had followed the Rebels down to the floor below did not hurry up, the assault would prolonged and Kaasi would get reprimanded for such failure to meet time parameters. He checked his clip, twenty shots. If he encountered any more rebels, they would surely be killed. The First Lieutenant took his helmet off and took out his field rations. He ate the protein rations quickly and poured the powdered energy supplement in his mouth. He mixed the beebleberry-flavored powder with water from his canteen in his mouth. He smiled as he swished the delicious flavoring. Smiling, he didn't realize this but stormtrooper officers did not smile often; joy was not a requirement of the job. He took a cigarra out of a case he stored on his belt and lit it. The strong, harsh smoke filled his mouth and lungs as he inhaled it. He exhaled and grabbed his comlink.

"Second Platoon! What is your status!?" requested Kaasi.

"We are taking heavy fire from rebels held up in some small room at the end of this hallway!"

"If you do not hurry up I will come down there and shoot you myself!"

"Yes sir!"

Lieutenant Heen clenched his jaw. He thought Lieutenant Muul was a hard ass, but he would not dare say it to the man's face. He knew how rutheless the Executive Officer of the company could be and he would not risk being killed for "treasonous thoughts". Heen watched as his troopers threw their remaining thermal detonators into the room. He heard screams as people were hit with them and pulled a Sergeant to him.

"I want you to rush those frakkers! I don't care what you have to do or who gets killed! Just do it! Now!" ordered the Lieutenant with a harsh tone.

"Yes sir!" replied the Sergeant as he motioned for the men to cram through the small doorway.

Heen followed in behind them, watching as a few were struck down. Then more white-clad soldiers were killed, then more. Suddenly, Heen and six troopers were standing in an empty room. He took his helmet off and threw it hard to the ground, hearing a crunch as some of the plastoid shielding was damaged.

"What the frell is this!? Where did they go!" yelled the Second Lieutenant in anger.

"No one just disappears like that! Search the room! If you do not find them we are all in big brix! So find them!" screamed Heen, his bright green eyes bulging in frustration and anger.

The troopers looked around pointlessly, occasionally stumbling over a white-clad dead body or a rebel body. Suddenly a hand came up, singed and missing fingers. It was blue, or once was, a survivor. He had been buried in corpses of stormtroopers and left behind for dead by the rebel dogs. Heen ran over and dragged a Twi'lek up out of the bodies. His eyes were frightened and his mouth was bleeding profusely. He was obviously shell-shocked, but he was very much alive. Heen dragged him to his face and head-butted him.

"Where the frell did they go! Tell me or I will chop this ugly frakking brain tail off with my teeth!"

"I…I don't…Don't know!"

Heen threw the Twi'lek to the ground and began savagely beating him, screaming curses and threats. The Twi'lek screamed and cried in pain and fright. Blood began to splatter all over the Lieutenant's armor. It flecked his rage stricken face and blinding his bulging eyes. The officer's white gloves were now the scarlet color of blood. The gloves underneath the plastoid plating on the top of the hands were drenched in blood, it was soaking through as the alien's face began to break. Embedded in the fingers of Heen's gloves were various teeth and pieces of bone. Pretty soon the Twi'lek stopped screaming and began twitching as Heen ruptured the Twi'lek's lekku. Eventually, one of the living troopers pulled the Lieutenant off of the corpse and sat him in a corner. He grabbed his superior's comlink and dialed in Kaasi's channel.

"Lieutenant, sir! Lieutenant Heen has gone off the deep end! We didn't catch the Rebels in time and they some how escaped…"

"By the grace of the Emporer! What is wrong with that man! Get him up here, and get him up here now!" ordered Kaasi.

The troopers grabbed Second Lieutenant Heen and quickly rushed him to Kaasi. They put the man on his knees and Heen just looked up at his superior officer and began laughing madly. He ranted on and on about how no one was down there and that he wasn't scared of Kaasi or anybody else in the Empire. Kaasi took his sidearm out of its holster and shoved it in Heen's mouth mid-sentence. He pulled the trigger with a stern face and the Lieutenant's head blew out the back along with a shower of sparks.

"Come on, we're done here. Call in for an orbital bombardment to take down this base, let's get out of here!" ordered Kaasi.