Loken
S E R V I C E
This thread is open to The High Republic, retainers and The Imperial Confederation Writers. Upon the planet of Lola Sayu the Republic have dispatched a fast and agile strike force in order to rescue kidnapped Senator
Cynan Obaith
. With their army of clones eager to prove their worth the clock is ticking for a do or die rescue.
Cynan Obaith
. With their army of clones eager to prove their worth the clock is ticking for a do or die rescue.“Contact front. Two heavies, elevated gantry.” Blasterfire cracked through the basalt corridors in disciplined bursts, strafing down onto the white armoured bodies of the Clones below.
Loken didn’t look up when the warning flashed across his HUD. His focus was on the messages coming from the feed of the Resolute streamed over his visor in tight green lines; orbital telemetry, jamming interference, schematic overlays of The Citadel bleeding in and out through the hastily deployed Imperial countermeasures. Every half second the map recalibrated, just as quickly as the information was freely flowing from the fleet in orbit.
“Copy,” Loken answered calmly towards whoever had said the information through his helm communicator before he stepped straight out into the line of fire.
Blue bolts screamed past his left shoulder, splashing molten light across the black duracrete. The Imperial Confederation guards wore angular armour; almost like a strange mirror of their attackers and they fought like men who understood this prison was meant to be impregnable. They had established crossfire angles early, giving them overlapping fields of suppression, and a pair of repeating cannons chewing the corridor into vapor.
But they were not clones.
“Tarviss, smoke it. Dax, suppress that left platform. Charon, with me.”
The orders were quick and with no wasted syllables followed almost immediately by a grenade bouncing once and erupted into a dense white bloom. Thermal signatures flared across Loken’s visor as the corridor dissolved into ghost shapes and red outlines. His squad moving without hesitation, boots striking in perfect rhythm.
Then like the sound of thunder Dax’s Z-6 roared.
The left gantry collapsed with a rain of sparks and falling metal, the repeating cannon going silent moments after. Loken took advantage of the sudden disruption and advanced through the smoke at a steady pace, firing controlled three-shot bursts with trained efficiency.
From the smoke a guard lunged with a shock pike. Loken sidestepped the attack, catching the haft under his forearm, and with a flick of his wrist drove his vambrace-mounted vibroblade up beneath the helmet seam. The body hit the floor before the smoke cleared.
“Deck three secure,” Charon reported.
“Negative,” Loken corrected, scanning. “It’s contested, I’ve got movement...”
A side door detonated inward and from it Confederation reinforcements flooded into the junction. There was no denying that they were disciplined and starting to gain their coordination back after the initial surprise of the Republic strike force arriving at the gate. A missile streaked down the corridor and exploded against the far wall, knocking two troopers flat in the resulting explosion.
The sudden craziness was broken by the feed of the Republic cruiser Valiant cutting through the chaos in Loken’s ear.
Strike element Aurek, be advised; You have nine minutes before they can contest orbital lanes. Repeat, nine minutes.
Nine minutes to extract a senator illegally seized on Corellia.
That gave Loken nine minutes before the Republic Fleet would depart.
“Understood,” Loken replied evenly as he pulled one of the fallen troopers upright. “Up. You’re fine.” The clone nodded once. He gave no complaint, their training allowed none. He fell back into position.
“Objective update,” Loken ordered and immediately a grainy holoprojection flickered across his visor; the detained senator, shackled in a detention block deep within the Citadel’s core spire. Imperial data encryption gnawed at the feed.
Prisoner located. Sub-level Aurek-Seven. Expect hardened resistance. Citadel shield grid cycling every thirty seconds. We’ll need you to punch a hole from inside.
Loken checked the timer overlay. Eight minutes, twenty-two seconds.
“Breach pattern K-Delta,” he said into the unit wide comm. “Push through.”
Loken’s immediate squad of clones shifted formation instantly. Two forward, two staggered rear, heavy weapon centerline. They advanced as one organism, disciplined arcs of fire overlapping with machine precision.
Blaster bolts burned through the smoke in lethal symmetry. An Imperial officer shouted orders from behind barricades. His troops adjusted quickly, falling back in a structured retreat toward the lift shaft. They were not rabble. They were trained, and they were buying time.
The floor trembled as a concussion charge thundered from nearby, dust cascading down upon them like snow. “Sir, the structural integrity is dropping,” Tarviss warned.
“Good,” Loken said. “It’ll make punching out easier.”
They reached the lift shaft under relentless fire. Charon slammed a slicing spike into the control panel while Dax anchored the corridor with suppressive fire. The air smelled of ozone and scorched plastoid filtered through their helmet’s systems. For the Republic clones this was the closest they had been to real war yet, their creation happening after the Mandalorian attacks and the Black Sun invasions. They knew they had to prove themselves.
“Five seconds,” Charon called.
An Imperial round punched through Tarviss’ shoulder plate and spun him against the wall. Loken managed to catch him before he fell.
“Still with us?” he asked. Ridge gave a short, tight nod and made a noise, something like a laugh. “Then get up.”
The lift shaft doors flew open.
“Move!”
They surged into the shaft as demolition charges detonated behind them, collapsing the corridor into a wall of fire and molten debris. The blast swallowed pursuing Confederation troops in a wave of shrapnel and flame.
Inside the vertical shaft, magnetic clamps locked onto their boots and ropes were secured to the walls with magnetic seals.
Seven minutes Commander. We are beginning targeting calculations for orbital strike to cover your retreat. You must disable the shield emitter.
Loken looked up the hundred meters of dark conduit toward the prison’s inner core and for a moment he felt like sighing.
“Copy,” he said. Then turning his helmet towards each of his men he added, “We’re going through them.”
Above, the Republic cruisers would be adjusted in silent, lethal arcs.
Below, within the depths of The Citadel, the Imperial Confederation would be tightening its defenses and in the narrow vertical throat of the prison fortress, a handful of clones began climbing straight into hell.
Aurelian Veruna
|
Dominique Vexx
|
Cynan Obaith
|
Marlon Sularen
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