Location: Kway Teow - Northern Approach.
Objective: Set Some Fires and Kick the Tyres.
Allies: The Galactic Alliance; Felucian Expeditionary Forces.
Enemies: The Sith Empire.
Equipment: See Signature for Relevant Hyperlinks
NPC Complement: 212th Army Group - 7th Regiment: ~2,560 Alliance Marines.
Status: Besieging and Assaulting Kway Teow.
Morale: Steady - Partially Improving.
A small sigh of disappointment slipped through the Major’s lips as his hands guided the Quadnoculars away from his Helmet’s visor. Through the connected visual amplification, the Soldier saw that the City of Kway Teow wasn’t like any Sith Imperial Bastion that his forces encountered before. Like many Cities in the Outer Reaches, the Capital was wholly encircled by a defensive curtain wall. While it was uncertain that this barrier would hold back the Alliance’s advance, the Major knew better than to underestimate his opponents. The further and further they reached towards the heartland of Sith territory - the more likely they were to scorch their worlds and leave nothing for their enemies to celebrate over. While they proclaimed themselves to be just and righteous in the eyes of their people, they seemed more than content with throwing them to the wolves when all seemed lost. No wonder the people rose up against them and inevitably spawned the Third Imperial Civil War.
When it came to the City itself - Tycho wasn’t surprised that the locals fervently threw themselves at their master’s feet. This was their homeworld, after all, and the Alliance was the undisputed aggressor in this conflict. The bloodshed wouldn’t stop until one side proclaimed victory over the other, and even then, there was a possibility of a costly occupation - should the Alliance decide to remain on the planet. It was unlikely, as there were rumours of pulling out as soon as the Sith occupation was dispatched. But, there was always a possibility on the horizon that needed to be considered. With the locals’ unwavering support, tied into whatever supplies that the Sith Empire could forage for - Kway Teow was turned into a ramshackle barbican. Assailing that would-be fortress would be brutal and bloody, but for this conflict to finally end... it was an action that needed to be done.
His sigh came again, as the Marine descended back into the relative safety of his hulking war machine. Once within its armoured husk, Tycho navigated his way towards the Command Compartment, having sealed themselves in. There, the Major bore witness to his Command Staff pouring over the holographic representation of Felucia’s Capital City. Their hushed murmurs and pointed fingers were a welcomed sight - but none more than the billowing tails of steam that floated out of a freshly poured mug. Alliance-issued rations weren’t the greatest in terms of taste or consistency - but the ReCaf that his Quartermasters were able to procure for the Regiment was to die for. That was especially true when you considered how bland and tasteless the regular stuff was.
“How’s the Line looking, Lieutenant?” Tycho said - accepting the cup in one armoured hand and removing his Helmet with the other.
“We’ve established ourselves a few clicks from the City walls, Sir,” the Lieutenant said as his finger swept across the holographic table. “We’ve had some issues in setting up the perimeter beacons as the wildlife, and the locals are harrying the Engineers. Some Squads have lost contact near the Fungal Jungle’s denser portions - likely ambushed by whatever forces the Sith Empire has out there. We’ve also received a transmission from the Battlegroup in Orbit. Seems like they’re getting bored upstairs, as some of their ships aren’t engaging what remains of the enemy’s defence flotilla. So, we’ve got Captain Giraan to thank for the updated surface telemetry that’s been blended in with whatever information our scouts could collect.”
Tycho nodded. “I’ll be sure to send her a bottle of something fancy as a token of our appreciation. Any information we can get our hands on will make this endeavour slightly easier.”
“Aye, Sir,” the Lieutenant nodded before continuing. “We’ve also received reports from our Rearguard. From what we could extract from his addled speech patterns, there are roving warbands of Graug out in the brush. They’re picking off elements of the 17th Armoured and the 31st Regiment as they’re pushing towards their respective Objectives.”
“How many Warbands have we encountered so far?” Tycho asked as he took a sipped from the piping hot decanter.
“A few, Sir, but it’s impossible to account for their numbers with this amount of foliage. However, there has been some good news that you might enjoy," the Lieutenant said with a small smile. "One of the Commanders from the 17th Armoured reports that their Turbo Tanks have… crushed their opposition and recovered some of ours that were taken captive a few days ago.”
Tycho cocked a quizzical eyebrow. “Crushed?”
“Aye, Sir. They ran over a few dozen Graug warriors, and likely a creature from the Leadership Caste as they were moving to ambush his Troopers. He, uh, specifically made sure to mention that his men would be cleaning out their Tank’s rotors for weeks.”
The Major chuckled at those words before shoving them aside and turning his attention back towards the manifested projection. There was still much that went unreported when it came to the City’s tactical layout. So much so that there was a part of Tycho’s rational mind that sought to delay the assault for a few more days. Let the guns from the Artillery Lines soften up the Capital City and force the Defenders to capitulate. Sure, it would’ve been anti-climatic in the grand scheme of things, but it would’ve given them time to learn everything they could - and strike the enemy where it hurts.
Sadly, that eventuality was thrown out the window as a nearby Comms Specialist relayed the Order to commence the assault issued from General Treicolt himself. While it was reckless, in many respects, Tycho understood why it had to be done. Dragging out the conflict for longer than it needed to transpire was deadly for morale - even if the Troops managed to be somewhat complacent. So, that part of his mind wanting to stall the attack was gratefully overridden by everything else that remained between his ears. However, what caused the major to speak next was some terrible news regarding their fellow Artillery Line to the South. It seemed they were unresponsive when the Order was given. That meant they were likely slain, or their communications were being jammed as the enemy assailed their lines.
Their guns were silent, leaving the 7th as the sole source of fire-support in this sector of the sprawling planetary battlefield. “Wonderful,” Tycho replied as passionless as his vocal cords could muster before gulping down another mouthful of steaming, caffeinated liquid. “With Arty-Line Aurek down, our big guns are all we’ve got to support our push. That means we can’t leave them undefended, especially with those damned bastards hiding in the trees.”
“Your orders, Sir?”
“We’ll take the 4th Mechanized into the City to support the 104th’s advance. The remaining Armour will do what they can to engulf the City and cut off their flow of reinforcements from the surrounding Jungle. But, we can’t leave our guns undefended. With the defences we’ve put in place and the active beacons, the 2nd and 34th Battalions will stay behind. They’ll be supported by the Recon Walkers of the 5th Mechanized. Ideally, that’ll see to our defensive positions and ensure that we’ll have as much fire support as we need to finish this damned campaign once and for all.”
“Very well, Sir. Shall I send any requests to command regarding reinforcements - specifically Air Support?”
Tycho shook his head. “No, the Sith Imperial fighters we faced a couple of weeks back seem to be the last from their Garrison. But, I’m sure our restless eyes in the skies be more than eager to join us when the assault begins in earnest.”
“Aye, Sir,” the Lieutenant said with a salute before turning away from the Major to carry out his newly-issued Orders. As the chain of command took effect, the Alliance Marine watched as the holographic screen before him slowly began to change with the partial real-time updates. The flickering image reset itself every few seconds, denoting portions of expected resistance and Allied forces’ projected movements. Minutes later, as that information was devoured, the Alderaanian crowned himself with his Helmet and locked it into place. With the satisfying sound of atmospheric pressure hissing in his ears, the man’s eyes were bathed in the false-firelight of his tactical visor.
Once again, fully-adorned in the combat gear of an Alliance Soldier, the Major braced himself as the Turbo Tank slowly began to lurch forwards. While his Command Tank was invaluable to the Defence Force’s operation, it would do little good for the vehicle to languish away from the Frontlines. That was why the Major volunteered the 4th Mechanized to join the self-styled ‘Wolfpack’ as they advanced towards the City. It was also why his men respected him as a battlefield commander - since he actually led his men into battle rather than dictate from afar. He smiled at that notion and quashed the train of thought before it stole his attention.
There were better things to focus on.
At that moment, when the Major’s Turbo Tank began moving towards the City, there was a transmission that was funnelled towards the vehicle’s integrated comms network. It seemed that when the selective artillery barrage started in earnest - there was an Agent that found themselves at its plasmatic mercy. “Very well,” Tycho said, with seeds of disappointment sewn into his voice. “Reorient and reinforce our barrage away from that reinforced Relay Station. Let’s give this… Usury some breathing room, shall we?”
“Aye, Sir! Reorienting the cannons towards the Northern Gate.”
Tycho nodded then. In shifting his artillery pieces’ attention, what defences at the Northern Gate would find themselves besieged by the incredible firepower these war machines could bring to bear. Sure, they’d likely withstand a good portion of the barrage - as there were likely to be portable shield generators installed at those locations - but they wouldn’t last. Not when a pair of Juggernauts were rolling forward, alongside several Tactical Enforcers and Fighter Tanks. While fervently entrenched, it was likely that the Sith Empire’s Garrison would buckle under the assault of the Armoured Spearhead; before breaking ranks and fleeing in whatever direction they could.
As the Turbo Tank’s forward command section aligned itself with the Northern Gate, Tycho ordered that the vehicle’s energy plow be activated. When this nigh-invisible force field came into being - the Major looked towards the embattled ingress with a thin-lipped smile peeling across his lips.
“Full speed ahead, Driver. Don’t stop until we’ve bashed through that Gate.”
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Ingrid L'lerim
was trying to convince him that she found him attractive, she had erred. Beltran hadn't felt physical or emotional attraction in so long that he had come to wonder if he ever would again. He'd been in love, once, as a younger man. But that had ended as all things seemed to with Beltran: In blood.
