Lysis

[Graf's Archive Account]

CT-7166 - Army Maj. Norwan Fleming

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Journal of the 501st - Aeten II: Lysis​

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Apparently sometime after the Tion Cluster campaign, command of the 501st had been transferred to Director Caalgen of Advanced Weapons Research from Baron Morcus and his Death Squadron. More and more of our missions were centred on acquiring technology and data to fuel the director's futuristic, bordering fringe science, approach to Imperial weapons production. Don't get me wrong, he's a man with a brilliant mind, but some of us were beginning to wonder what he actually contributed to the war efforts...​

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The INV Belfast, a Victory-class Star Destroyer, leapt out of hyperspace over the volcanic world of Aeten II; Its blue-painted hull clashed magnificently with the red hue generated by the oceans of lava. Within minutes of its arrival, numerous LAAV/i dropships leaving the hangar bay of the ships and darting through the atmosphere to the violent surface. Setting down on the plains composed of basalt, platoons of stormtroopers disembarked and charged a nearby mining facility.

Blasting their way through perimeter defences composed of a few scout patrols and some automated turrets, the clones entered the complex and began battling with the security forces for control of several key areas including the command centre, processing, and the shuttle bay. Time passed until they emerged victorious, shoring up the remaining defences for the inevitable assault from the planetary security, courtesy of the ruling corporation present.

Major Fleming strode into the centre, his helmeted head scanning the room to observe his men that had taken up positions at the many consoles. "Get the workers to load the stygium crystals aboard a shuttle, but make sure to keep them away from the battle." He commanded, "I've got a really bad feeling about this..."

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

Desmond C’artyom and Inferno One were accompanying the fine boys of the five oh first. Desmond and squad were clearing out the depths of the mines that the remaining enemy troops were hold up in. They couldn't use frags for fear of collapsing the mines. It was a bloody room to room battle.

By the end of it Inferno One had claimed over fifty lives. They approached the last of the enemy bolt holes and cleared out the room with a flash grenade and stealth rifles. As the last of the enemies fell Inferno One exited the room and reported to command via holo.

“With the Mines secure you will be appointed guard duty. Protect the ships as the stygium is loaded,” An unknown Imperial commander ordered.

Inferno One made their way to the Imperial Lambda class shuttles as the first of the Imperial workers began loading the goods onto the shuttles. Desmond watched as the Five Oh First troopers set up very efficient defenses. Choke points, sniper nest, and e-web emplacements were placed at strategic points throughout the mines.

The Imperials were more than ready for any counter attack that might come their way.

[member="Norwan Fleming"]

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

The 501st Attack Battalion was prepared for anything that the planetary corporation would be able to throw at them, they were the best shock infantry in the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps and the largest special forces detachment in comparison to Inferno Squadron and Death Trooper Command.

Even then, the mood around the mining complex was as tense as it could be, the calm before the inevitable storm, and while workers were rushing to empty their facility's stygium stores onto Imperial freighters.

Major Fleming walked along a perimeter wall, being updated by captains of companies and lieutenants of platoons as he did so. "Major, sir. Inferno One has cleared out the mines and has been redirected to protect the crystals." Captain Bears said; He sported a massive paw painted onto his helmet which tied into his namesake.

"Very good, captain. Truth be told I was starting to doubt the capabilities of any detachment other than Inferno Zero itself." Fleming mused, smirking under his helmet.

His satiated doubts were interrupted when a shout of "Contact!" came over the battalion's comms. Norwan dropped his rangefinder over his visor and was greeted with the sight of multiple armoured vehicles and dozens of battle droids and infantry marching down a hill about half a kilometre away.

The clone grabbed the X-72 slung over his shoulder and raised it, his hud marking enemies as they entered his 500-metre kill zone. "Battle lines! Twin rows!" He barked into his communicator, watching clones form lines amongst each other: The front line kneeling down.

"Ready! Aim!" He raised his hand into the air before bringing it down forward "Fire At Will!" The walls erupted in red as hundreds of blaster bolts sprung at the enemy.

[member="Desmond C'artyom"]

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

Desmond could hear the sounds of distant battle as he patrolled the docking area. Some of the workers began to look a little frightened but at the sight of Inferno One their doubts quickly evaporated. Desmond was making his rounds when he spotted a strange device on the wing of one of the Lambda class shuttles. He approached it and gave the circular thing a quick once over. It had wires sticking from the side, a white clay like substance forming the bulk of the circle, and in the center was a flashing red light.

That’s all he needed to see to identify it as a bomb. Desmond placed a hand to his helmet and keyed his comms

“Ghoul, get over here and disable this thing!” He said hastily and the clone quickly trotted over.

Ghoul looked at the bomb and immediately went to work, cutting wires and poking at the red light.

“Some sort of rudimentary plastic explosive,” The clone said as he dismantled the device and popped it off the ship.

Ghoul tossed the disabled bomb away and Desmond grimaced beneath his helmet.

“We got sappers…” He said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. “Fan out, check the ships for more explosives. Then we’ll go find our infiltrators,” Desmond ordered.

Inferno One began searching the immediate area. They found a few more bombs in various locations, but no solid sign of the saboteurs. They must have been disguised as dock workers...

[member="Norwan Fleming"]

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

"ARTILLERY!"

The walls beneath him crumbled as a massive ball of energy impacted against it and erupted in an all-consuming inferno. Fleming scrambled to stand, his vision blurred and his ears ringing; likewise, he noticed many of his troopers doing the same, some of them not even rising at all and unmoving.

Not allowing this to cloud his mind any further, the clone major raised his blaster rifle and began firing upon the enemy forces that leaked into the compound through the sizeable gap in the perimeter walls. Most of them were droids, which he promptly dispatched with a single shot to the torso or the neck, others were Nikto and other aliens who got a hearty blaster bolt in the head to put them down for good.

It took him longer than usual to realize that while their own numbers were dwindling at an alarming rate, the enemy was still sallying forth to provide them either death or another chance at life.

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

One of the worse things that could happen to a soldier on the battlefield soon came upon one Norwan Fleming. His blaster stopped dispensing red hot death and instead made an audible clicking sound that meant he had run fresh out of juice for it. The clone reached onto his belt for another power pack only to find that they were gone, most likely displaced by the explosion that sent him down onto the grown.

Battle droids marched menacingly toward him, blaster bolts sizzling past him due to their horrible accuracy programming; incidentally, their builders had believed that swarming was wiser. He smirked, sending the butt of his rifle swinging around and knocking the head off of a droid and causing it to tumble into the ground. Swiping it to the side, he repeated the tactic with another droid and another, until he had successfully disabled several using this method.

He dropped the thoroughly mangled rifle and grabbed a blaster carried by one of the droids, pointing it upward and taming a large Zabrak that was running towards him with death. The major was good, better than most stormtroopers, but he didn't know how long he would be able to hold out like this...

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

The clone was once again knocked onto his ass, a grenade erupting next to his position and embedding shrapnel in the metal and duraplast of his commander's armour. He lay there for a single moment, considering all the battles that he had participated in up until this point: Kothlis, Hypori, Scarif, Bothawui.

Norwan Fleming was decorated soldier, a clone born to die on the battlefield, but did he really want to pass on here? On some volcanic dustball? He turned his head to the side, his neck aching from the sudden whiplash of being thrown down. Wearily, he looked on as one of his lieutenant's was beheaded by a bloodthirsty Herglic.

Looking forward once more, an Ishi Tib stood over him, murder in his eyes as he brought his blaster forth, ready to end the clone's pitiful existence. A laser bolt sent the alien flying into a wall, dead even before he impacted, the bolt coming from a seemingly unknown source. All around him, the same happened to the enemy soldiers, sent into a panic from the sudden loss of their comrades.

In the horizon of Aeten II, dozens of Imperial gunships appeared and began dispatching the corporation security forces, effectively saving the battle-hardened 501st from complete annihilation.

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

He could not thank his creators enough, a salvation from this hell-made-reality. Norwan felt the wind pickup near him when one of the gunships touched down onto the craggy basalt, more stormtroopers disembarking from the dark innards of the vessel.

He closed his eyes for one second, opening them the next to find himself lifted onto a medical pod, medics staring down at him through their T-visors. Major Fleming mustered all of his strength to grab one by the arm "S-s-sty....gium..." He groaned, seemingly understood.

The medic nodded, acknowledging the fact that despite their loses, the 501st Attack Batallion had succeeded in acquiring the stygium crystals. His arm went limp, its master's command carried out by throbbing muscles. The clone blinked again, time jumping an inordinate amount, and found himself in a white room: The medbay of the Belfast, an attractive nurse attending to his stripped form.

He closed his eyes for the final time, drifting off to a well deserved rest, his mission completed...

...for now