Private Roads To Burn

[Irveric Tavlar]

[ Thematic ]

​

Another slain, another to replace. Irveric had seen nearly a decade of service now, likely just below six months of that spent on leave while the staunch remainder had been spent on the field or in further training. His entire tenure had been a cruel twist of irony. Though he wasn't pressed into service kicking and screaming he was wholly intent on completing his mandated tenure before resigning to return to his career in Ord Thoden developing armor plating and shield systems for planetary defense platforms. Here he was now, a career trooper.

Folende was a peculiar environment, though shades similar to the previous deployments Tavlar had embarked on. It was strange almost, a decade of warfighting and yet his detachment had yet to participate in anything truly glorious. Never any planetary scale engagement over a vital junction of the Galactic map which determined the fate of the Empire, scribed for generations following. Nor even a battle of fierce, close quarters scrapping with Beskar clad Mandalorian warriors. No, instead it was rebellions, terrorist cells and petty separatists. Jobs that needed to be done, but once they were, no one would care and it'd be onto the next.

A forced insurrection saw the otherwise peaceful and compliant regime who oversaw the planet's agri production supplanted with a military junta made up of angered clone militiamen who saw Imperial quotas and tithes to be less than reasonable and evidently more than negotiable. And so like many many revolutions like it, the farmers abandoned the agri tool for the blaster, embargoing any offworld shipment and shackling any Imperial administrator they could get their hands on. And so queue, Imperial boots.

Again, for one reason or another, likely the far too valuable agri production, great scale bombardment was foregoed for direct infantry deployment. Major in the Imperial Armed forces Irveric was tasked with leading a parceled regiment of troopers to siege and hold a sizeable settlement. The approach was easy enough, the Major able to maneuver and directly take charge of his armored spearhead to destroy the outer defenses and surround the city it wasn't without great cost, far too many of his vehicles knocked out by mines and rocket launchers his task was also made even far more difficult once command higher than him issued a deadline for the city's surrender. Seven solar cycles, a week was all he was given to assault and take the city. Though reinforcements to bolster his initial offensive capability was denied, replacements were due arrival.

The fresh convoy of Claymore Repulsor tanks filled to the brim with Imperial Legionaries arrived to the command post set in an outcropping within the city's outskirts, the crimson Imperial banner sitting dead in the wind, draped over the front of the compound the regimental command had established itself. Immediately after they'd set foot outside of the transport aft of the grav tanks, green and pristine troopers would be met with the grizzled faces and battered plasteel of their newfound comrades, each of the ones present, be they on sentry or relief had their visor cleared from their gaze, probably about nine for every ten with some form of cigarra tucked between their lips as artillery barrages and the cracking volleys of blaster fire sounded out in the 'distance'. Only a token few welcomed the present Leftenent Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt with a salute or a stand at attention. If it wasn't clear now, it would be soon enough that the fighting was harder than Imperial command had originally wagered, likely giving them the same speech relayed to Irveric and his host.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

After breaking the atmosphere and ship transport, a hard and brisk march would have been preferable to the tank convoy that had delivered them. One standard hour in, two road mines had gone off near them enroute and shattered that idea. It had been a whisper of what was to come and it had prompted a silence unlike any other. They had stood shoulder to shoulder, practically breathing down the backs of other Legionnaire. Antsy was a feeling she did not want to associate with, but her fingers tapped insistently on the plate armor issue to her. Lyra had stood uneasy among the other replacements. That was not the only unreasresurring point in the debrief they had received. Shifting her eyes over the backs of the others. Just three men over from her, a private was getting berated, the stench of fear and sweat choking the transport, at least she hadn’t been the one caught quivering.

Upon their arrival, it had been a quick succession in disembarking but her eyes took time to adjust. Lyra had filed out into the daylight as soon as the doors dropped, dust stirred in the wake of the machines and boot traffic. The fact they stunk of freshly water proofed coats, and un-singed armor was not lost on her. Her hands had swept over the rifle, adjusting it against her shoulder for the fourth or fifth time.

It was a relief to be here, to be somewhere, doing something. A small uprising, it would be respectable to report home about when all was said and done. She'd simply not mention the fact it was clones or it's roots were in agriculture. There would be open land here, fields to fight in, she would of preferred a mid city siege perhaps but it was just their first assignment she reasoned.

In seven days they’d be on to the next mission. She was kidding herself though. Breaking through the offloading personnel, she risked a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the latest barrage, and oh how it echoed. Lyra picked up the uneasy glances from her comrades..questions were being thrown around and she forced herself to frown less her nerves betray her. Dragging her feet one in front of the other, the hair stood up on the back of her neck as another wave of blaster fire sounded.

Basic had been controlled, academy clean and unwavering and her new comrades were sizing them up all around. That was the only familiar thing here, she could work with it. They were all brothers and sisters in arms now..but it felt like it would be an insult to be even an ounce familiar yet.

How long had the last Leftenent been dead before she herself been deployed? The ‘welcoming committee’ was sparse and she did not linger, swallowing her comments about the regulations. She was daunted of all things and she knew better then to open her mouth. She had her orders and only offered the other Legionaries a dismissive nod, crossing the compound and setting a swift pace about it. Lyra let out a harsh breath before setting her jaw-she had her questions about the logistics but deep down it simply didn’t matter why, they were being royally screwed either way. She should of pushed for a specialized division but she was going languish over that later. Maneuvering through the station, she entered the Command’s center to report in. Her mind was reeling and she stepped aside several times avoiding her fellows hard at work before she fell in to salute the commanding officer present.

“Leftenent Voi’Kryt reporting for duty.”

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

The command center was a parceled mess to say the least. Hap hazardly pieced together from the command equipment stripped from Tavlar's Claymore class Grav Tank when it was knocked out by a rebel high explosive anti tank rocket. It seemed even with the replacements under Voi'Kryt's command, the offensive was all but a skeleton crew. Whilst patrol groups of Irveric's men kept the rebels at bay, cycling them into reserve every other day to allow his men reprieve from the firefighting, only to be thrown into the gauntlet once more.

Sat on the opposite side of her against a four by four holomap table, the Major was currently speaking with one of his NCOs, a daily report from the front which was all but a kilometer or so away from their current position.

"Sir...we're holding...but I'm doubtful we're going to make any forward advancement, even with replacements. Sir if I may we might even have to lift the sentries from this position if we care to make any ground." He admitted, speaking rather candidly to his higher officer of a superior. Since the beginning of the conflict Irveric never strayed far from the battlefield, ever displaying his Imperial drilled 'contempt for danger' each time a blaster shot whistled by his face. Though he wasn't any celebrity among the higher command, he had proven himself competent enough as a battalion commander to earn the baseline acknowledgement of his direct superior and the respect of his underlings. But respect came with honesty, breaking down the ever present filter of Military decorum in favor of hard truths. And hard truths cut both ways.

"Replacements have...just arrived, I'll have them cycled to the front tomorrow morning, tell the Leftenant Tannin to pull his men back to reserve. With the replacements we have a fighting strength of...give or take...175, with a platoon of five Claymores, a nice touch...regardless, Command wants it all done with in a week. I don't know if we're able to, from our counts they've about 350 fighting men and now my arithmetic is shoddy but if I might be so bold, Sergeant I do believe that contradicts the five to one optimal offensive capability of any fighting force and certainly outright violates the three to one minimum. We'll have to be smart with the tanks and fight a damn well lot harder than they will..."

"Yes, Major...I'll relay to the Leftenant." The NCO said, standing at attention and saluting once more to his superior before turning about face and out from the command post, sliding his Legionnarie's helmet back over his visage as he unslung his blaster rifle from his shoulder.

As soon as Lyra stepped in behind the NCO and reported for duty Tavlar gave her a brief look up and down from his seat with an arched brow. He hadn't but a shred of the clean cut, perfectly polished demeanor of an Imperial Officer, no. Though he was adept in the academy he had the wear-with-all to know well what worked and what didn't even if it took...hard truths. Clad in his field engineer's armor with field grey armoring and black fatigues his rank bars were barely exposed from underneath the rain drop camouflaged shawl he let rest over his shoulders. In his face his hair was a clean cut dark brown, with a growing stubble along his blaster burn marked face he looked to her with a cold olive visage.

"At ease..." He said. Though she seemed an attractive enough woman he saw far too much of himself but years prior in her eyes. Eager to do their duty but..../utterly/ clueless as to what was to come.

"Welcome to Folende...and in particular the five o' second armored infantry battalion...though as you might be able to tell we're a bit low on both. What have you been told so far?"

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

“The brief stated upstart clones and a take over, halted production, a siege, some administration taken hostage, and a time quota. We encountered landmines on the way in, those were not noted, and little information on what has been established on our side. sir.” Lyra offered a sharp nod as her hand fell away. She wasn’t the heavy stock that made for a good front liner, any shorter and she’d been laughed out before she hit training or sat behind a desk.

Linking her hands behind her back, she had surveyed the command center, it wasn't the epitome of strength but if the man before her made it work she'd give it due credit. Holding her chin aloft taking stock of the Major for a moment. Her only slip of character was the tell tale quirk at the corner of her lip. It was short lived before her face fell flat and serious; it wasn’t quite arrogance but the folly of youth and eagerness. Appearances only provided so much, but the man before her, well she had a good inkling about him. She trusted her gut and it hadn’t lead her astray drastically. Noting the holomap, she picked up faint details off it but deferred to the Major; meeting his eyes with her own calculating stare.

"What do I need to know, sir?"

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Tavlar listened to her intently, crossing his arms over his chest plate as she spoke. "More or less what you need to know, incase you didn't overhear from my conversation with the sergeant we have a deadline of a week to take this town...to do it with, and this is counting you and your platoon we've about 175 men and a platoon of armor and they...have over three hundred, nothing by the way of armored vehicles but they've plenty of rockets to take out ours. As you and I are both aware, these are quite a lot less than ideal circumstances to be operating under but so has been my career to this point. "

Irveric speaks, eventually rising from his seat as he peers over the holomap displaying the surrounding area, most of the positions familiar enough to Lyra even if from the spare moments she spent outside the town. "Your Legionaries will take forward positions tomorrow and then after that we're going to consolidate what we have and attempt an assault, ideally under the cover of preliminary bombardment, regardless, we need to move quickly. Once the artillery has done its work we want to close as much ground between us and the enemy defensive positions as quickly as possible. We use the armor as a spearhead to punch through the centre of their position and then encircle and kill what's left...though given we're a great bit on our backfoot I'd not mind a fresh set of eyes about the situation." He says, immediately offering a test of her tactical and situational insight, though understood well enough she had...less than incredible context of the situation.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Lyra considered the information, and the Major’s plan. A frown gracing her lips as she laid out the assault he described, her hands laxing behind her as she reached up to hook her chin between her fingers. Her eyes dropped immediately to the holo map as she stepped in, looming over it. Her eyes softened then and she ran the numbers, seemingly muttering under her breath as her other hand counted off a silent list. The only dispute in the back of her mind was to air the side of caution, she wasn’t standing here today to learn. The academy was behind her and they needed results.

“Numbers aren't everything.. bare with me, sir,” Lyra began, resisting the urge to wring her hands out. Reaching forward she gestured to concentration of enemies listed on the holo.

“What are the defenses we’re looking at, this is a town yes. But these buildings, are they civilian homes, is this a processing plant, concrete walls surrounding them and foundation? Or is it natural make. What is their real defense, do they have a shield generator? Or is it wood palisades they’ve erected? What are the target areas that can not be shelled by artillery or tanks, and if its any building or platform-I expect them to be using those as a bastion..The rocket launchers you've mentioned, are they low range missiles or the forty km variants? If they're the later, we won't be here for much longer.."

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Tavlar, offered a faint grin and arched brow as she began interrogating him over the matters in front of them. Though her inquiries weren't...'off' by any means it showed how much academia and technical specifications she retained from the Officer's school. "A great deal many of these are civilian structures, be they homes or businesses save for the packaging plant for which the the terrorists have taken root." Tavlar says, pointing the structure out with an index and small finger on the map.

"As far as shield generators, they've none, all of their fortifications are constructed of scrapped durasteel from the surrounding structure. Tomorrow my forward observer is going to move into the city and give us direct eyes on everything that needs to be pounded to dust and then the following day we'll shred their mainline defenses before moving in with armor and infantry. The missile systems are basic short range 'HEAT' weapons which can be outranged with our Claymores but they need be spotted first, tis what the purpose of the FO's scouting operation will be." Irveric clarifies. The Major then offers another reassess of the map. Though the odds weren't definitively in their favor, especially in the context of urban warfare on a tight schedule where they couldn't simply employ superior firepower doctrine and bombard the enemy until the city was left with all but a fine white dust. No, such destructive power couldn't be used here and eventually, the Imperials had to get close, batten down for fierce fighting in close quarters with the armed clones.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

“Major, has consideration been put toward a night operation following the forward investigation. Assemble a commando team to place remote charges either on noted sights by the agent or in back areas to promote a flank for either a sharp shooter team to act on or just a distraction-sir,” Lyra traced a finger toward the sides of the town fortifications, referencing the civilian buildings. She considered the the Claymores, a thought brewing-it'd be a risk no matter what they did and if they were repelled be it the basic assault or another maneuver..there would be no retreat or regrouping. Linking her arms behind her back, Lyra re-assumed a strict posture.

“Blow them minutes before the artillery and distract them. Or possibly even arrange for a heavy flank with one of the tanks and punch hard, if we keep out of their range we could harass them and perform a pincer movement with the forces. We could utilize what civilian building that are not ruined in the artillery as a foothold before we took the processing plant. We don't have the numbers you said it yourself, and half of us are fresh. If the entire battalion was on similar par, tenacity might favor us. None of this takes in account for landmines between us and them either. If we’re going in to assault is our path clear, they maybe have left traps in part of the town itself? Do they have reinforcements we need to be aware of?“ It was perhaps risky, and Lyra glanced up from the holomap to the Major. Her opinion did not matter in the grand scheme or perhaps she was overthinking the matter. Squaring her shoulders she, Lyra had to accept what ever may come; he had requested a fresh look at the battle but she could very well overstepped.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

He had to admit, even if only to himself. His first impression of his newfound subordinate was a good one to say the least. Though she was overtly vocally analytical over the situation she clearly had a head on her shoulders. Perhaps he was just misremembering his own time as Leftenant, fresh from the academy during his anti-insurgency campaign on Garel. "A night operation might not be an all too terrible idea...get an idea of their positions. We'll move in forward observers to mark their defenses, with a designated marksman team on overwatch." Irveric admits, conceding to her idea.

"As far as all of that goes they've explosive charge planted in most of the major road ways which is why I don't care to cover too much surface area on our assault, it'll leave our troops more at risk if they're treading on area that hasn't been swept. Hence why I'd rather strike hard and split their forces into two pockets and encircle them, with our forces split into mandibles and a manpower disadvantage we're far more likely to lose however, if the entirety of our strength punches through one area they very well may not be able to match our firepower in a concentrated assault if its done rapidly enough..." Tavlar suggests, motioning his flattened hand along the main offensive avenue he planned to take his men through on the assault. "Make enough sense?"

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

“Yes Major,” Lyra agreed confidently, offering a curt nod. Part of her relieved, and somewhere deep down gleaming with a bit of pride. As her eyes roamed the holo, she imagined the battle in her mind; it was going to fast and packed with heat. The anticipation and nerves would strike her sooner or later. Glorious as some of the dogs in Basic had described the idea of a heavy firefight.

“What is our next order of business sir?”

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

As soon as they'd finished their conversation Tavlar began to step around the holomap table, motioning for her to follow him as they made way from the interior of the compound, making way into the courtyard he reached under his camouflaged shawl, pulling free a cigarra from under his armored combat engineer cuirass, sparking it before stuffing it between lips, taking in a long draw. Like just about anyone out here, he never went near any vices, be they smokes or drinks but now like any other battle hardened trooper it was a force of habit by this point.

"Come sundown you're going to take a section's worth into the city. Split it between a marksman team and a forward observer. Find out what needs to be found out but no matter what you gather make way back to our fortifications by midnight where we'll call in a fire mission, hit the positions your team has pointed out and then regroup and assault their position tomorrow, we can't give them longer than that to re-establish any positions though all the same my men need reprieve..." Irveric says, dragging another pull from his cigarra as he looked outward toward the ruined outskirts of the city.

"Understood, Leftenant?" He asked, making sure she knew well her assignment.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Lyra fell in step behind the Major, taking one last note of the command center as she followed him out. It may not matter in a few days time but she would not be caught dead unfamiliar with the base of operations and made note of the compounds setting outside. Picking up then on the curious pattern splashed across most of the battalion.. When Tavlar lit up the cigarra, Lyra mused silently over the surprise that was; of course the troopers had got their habit from somewhere. Positioning herself a hair aside, schooling her express-she followed his line of sight and look toward the city. If she wanted to suffer inhalation she’d enjoy another round of gas tests from Basic. Listening intently, she turned her attention back to him, brows raised in moderate interest.

It had been her bright idea after all..

“Understood sir, by my estimate we have two standard hours left of light-I will begin preparations immediately. Do you have any recommendations on at least one candidate who has the know all, a seasoned pair of eyes will help, sir. I can pull the rest from the new deployment.”

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

"Try four, orbital period this time of year leaves for days quite a bit longer, its prime harvesting season which is what makes our time table all the more urgent." Tavlar says, pulling another rip from the cigarra he had pinched between his thumb and index finger, letting the smoke drift from his lips before he spoke up once more.

"You'll get two old helms to help with leading the replacements. Sergeant Trepol, he's gone the farthest on patrol into the city he knows the lay of it well enough. And you'll get Corporal Hensher, put a bolt dead center of a terrorist missile launcher that was more than likely going to knock out one of my 'Claymores' from there you should have a good enough element though...Legionaries like any other when they're green they're...less than consistent when they first see combat." Irveric says, well versed with the baggage that came with leading men into combat who'd yet to see it themselves. There was only so much that could be drilled and taught but there was a great deal more that had to be learned from experience.

"Other than that, most of what you'd need we have. I can't promise anything by means of suppressors but the Engineer's ground scanners should be good enough to detect mines and the like. Though bare in mind the charges they use for us are not the same as the ones they use for her." Tavlar elaborates, pointing his fingers clutching the cigarra in the direction of a 'Claymore' tank.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

At the mention of the orbit and light count, Lyra turned her head up, toward the horizon. There was smoke drifting through the air and she considered the climate. Indeed she had been wrong..Lyra turned her head a fraction still listening but trying to hide the wrinkling her nose as she caught a whiff of the cigarra. That nerve in the back of her mind slowly fraying more as he explained the situation.

“Brief could have mentioned that,” She commented dryly, unlacing her arms and pulling back her sleeve and glove to adjust the time chip on her wrist. The correction wasn’t something to be sore about, but could have ended in a crippling failure. Lyra now had a time quota too..

“Trepol and Hensher, I’ll put them to good use then, thank you sir. I have a few in mind from the new drop, that will compliment the attack otherwise even if they’re green.” Lyra had to fake the confidence, if there was no trust in the men she was going to walk out with-then the mission would fail then and there. She wasn’t going to shoot herself in the foot though and walk out ignorant of a bunch of fresh faces weaknesses and strengths. What her own weaknesses were, she hadn’t jump first in Basic afterall. With that bitter thought, her eyes turned to the Claymore, grinding her teeth.

“One will knock out the repulsorlift, and still..while no fun to step on one a shrapnel i-e-d would be worse. Heading in, anything we come across on the field we will mark down. For the sake of drawing little attention I plan on making the city crawl fast and relatively quiet. That said I didn't imagine an armored infantry unit having been delegated any suppressors, sir" Her last words were spoken fondly, a hint of a grin popped up on her lips; Turning and falling in to a sharp salute.

"At your leave, sir."

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

"The problem with the two different sets of mines is that boots won't set off the repulsor-lift explosives, only the tanks can do that. Thus you may very well find the perimeter of their 'HE' minefields yet fail to detect the explosives meant for our vehicles." Tavlar advises, eventually flicking the spent cigarra unto the concrete beneath, stomping it into the earth with his boot before peering back to her. "Suppressors? No I don't think higher command anticipated we'd ever need to take a more subtle approach." He admits, shaking his head as he peers over in the direction of the town that very well needed taking.

"Get your men ready, you've long night ahead of you, Voi'kyrt. Dismissed." He said, offering a salute in return as he sent her off. Tavlar for the moment seemed to be optimistic about his newest platoon commander. She was as ambitious and wide eyed as any other green officer on the field but she seemed a great deal sharper than the ones who'd come before from the academy.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

“This is the knife..” Lyra’s voice carried over the heads of the men seated before her. They were assembled in a corner of the compound where they would not be disturbed, they littered the supply crates with helmets and a selection of tech. Moving around them, she showcased the weapon with a flourish of her hand before picking up her issued blaster rifle. She was met with seven sets of eyes that we’re equal parts confused and miffed. Corporal Hensher whom hung back had the audacity to offer an ‘ooo’ and she shot him an unamused look before addressing the rest. “..and this is a rifle..know the difference and when to use them Privates.”

It was a little harsh, even demeaning but you could only stress the word quiet so many times.

“Our objective is to sabotage..”

“We will be working fast with no back up..”

“..split into teams of three..”

The brief was thorough and she knew she had lost Sergeant Trepol and the Corporal at some point but this wasn’t meant for them. The two seasoned men were muttering amongst themselves at the back of the pack as Lyra reviewed the gear at their disposal. The Privates were a keen enough lot and she had pulled them based on their file descriptions. Mostly high mark hot shots from Basic in the end though, aside from Forleac for his EOD specialization and Appw’rii with for her melee work. Major Tavlar’s word still weighed down upon her and she renewed her vigor as the sun began to set; she would not set them up for failure. As the sun began to fade over the horizon she waded through their questions and was introduced to the raindrop pattern, the squad quickly armoring up in the camo. At the end she handed over the reigns to Trepol, he outlined a basic map of their route and the part of the cityscape they would be tackling before they lost the light.

When it came time they stationed themselves on the outskirts of the compound south of the main road. The sun had fully set by then and they laid out atop an irrigation barrier, five of them packed together like sardines; there was little in the way of cover. Irwtill and Moneus were spreading out under Hensher’s direction to cover them in case retreat. The two of them armed with snipers. Adjusting her helmet’s HUD, Lyra gave the signal to switch to the enhanced vision. The men following suits, shifting uneasily and fixing with their helms. Her vision lit up across the field and she could make out the outlines of the clones on the fortifications. Between them and the city, the fields were cut low and mostly destroyed, but it served to cover the IEDs well. What grass still stood swayed in the wind and Lyra noted a few birds pecking helplessly at the desolate tracks of land. Glancing further south of their position, she could see the outline of Irwtill moving across the incline of the field,

The minutes dragged and Lyra took the opportunity to close her eyes. Her fatigue had chosen the worst time to rear its ugly head. Trepol was confirming the last of the patrol movements, trading the electrobinoculars between him and Hensher; their helmets discarded temporarily. The clones were smart enough to of rotated their patrol schedules it seemed, the spot lights were far and few between but could pose a threat.. The squad would need to take their approach slow to draw little attention, tilting her head up she peered over toward Trepol about to speak- but a yawn dominated the comm link..Trepol could be heard scoffing and Lyra crooked her head sharply down the line, searching for the culprit.

“Simmoes I got a juice box you can suck off before your nappy if you want,” Forleac snipped, the pair trading elbows beside her.

“Enough. Adjust your comm sensitivity, I don't want anything being picked up,” Lyra’s voice lit up the comm link, envisioning hitting them both upside the heads with the butt of a blaster.

“Yes leftenant..”

“Lights green leftenant,” Trepol interrupted, his voice muffled through the comm as he pulled his helmet on. “we have four and a half minutes before they come back through, should I take point?”

“No, take rear. Hensher get over here take second-I want eyes on the prize. Irwtill, Moneus you in position yet?” Lyra asked, turning her attention to the mine sweeper anchored to her forearm. Their confirmation followed over the comm and Lyra traced finger along the compact screen. “On me troopers, clocks ticking.”

Rising to her feet, Lyra descended off the levy as Trepol followed close behind, dropping a firm hand on her shoulder with his rifle ready; watching her twelve. The seven of them stirred up dirt in their wake as they fell in line; trudging along. The temperatures were dropping and a stiff wind picked over the open ground. The sweeper only offered a radius of three yards but already indicated they already bordered an IED. With each radar scan, the screen lit up more until they were surrounded by dots on the screen. Lyra peered across the field, it was only eight hundred yards to the wall..

Focused on the sweeper, she gave sharp signs with her hand as she picked a winding path, the rest of them forced to mirror her footsteps. The seven of them lined up close quarters, blasters at the ready. They all had their monitors but she didn’t want the team torn between watching the radar and for pop shots. Trepol called the time when their four minutes had passed and they hit the ground The field approach went as predicted; slow. When the spot light came through, they lay still, the light passing over them. They did not move until Trepol gave the call.

The outlying mines were sporadic, some desperately lumped together but as they grew closer to the wall the concentration of the explosives were overwhelming. Lyra found herself back tracking as the second patrol neared. That when she began to sweat, the first of unplanned obstacle. They delayed again briefly to wait it out, they were close enough they could hear the noise from the clones atop the wall. Lyra had take a second sweep of the field and had to push them further south down the wall to get in close enough.

When they reached the wall, no one said anything and they prepared their cable wires. She caught Forleac checking his sweeper routinely as they readied for the climb. They only had a small think line to work along the wall that wasn’t laced with mines. When Moneus and Irwtill confirmed they were clear, they fired off their hooks in unison, scaling the wall with propeller assistance. The upper story buildings could have sentries and she took it slow when she reached the edge; creeping as she pulled herself over before taking point on the rampart. Goldell undid her cable carefully as they wrapped up. They had two minutes to get down, several sets of ladders were haphazardly bolted along the inside. They were overlooking into an alleyway, three-maybe four blocks away from the main road in that was trashed. Lightning was sparse here, probably to conserve energy she guessed. Lyra motioned Trepol and his group down first, already moving to sweep right.

Dropping down to the city level behind them, Lyra with Godell, and Appw’rii swinging left. She kept her eyes on the scanner, Lyra knew somewhere along the way they’d hit a mine if they weren’t carefully. Taking a path through the scrap and garbage, Hensher broke off, there had to be something in theses front buildings and he’d give them a clean sweep or mark them. His ultimate objective was two buildings in, clear out and take up a sentry position. He’d monitor the situation from up there for both teams, it was almost a three story building though it stood mostly in ruins.

In the dark they cut through the city, crawling through the back alleys and checking buildings; the southern buildings were mostly empty. It was quiet for the most part, they kept it locked down and only the distant echo of boots could be caught here and there.

“Contact, one cache marked near the wall,” Hensher’s voice passed over the comm.

“Status?” Lyra demanded, preparing to reel back.

“Enemy dead, we’re good here-moving on.”

Lyra muted her sigh and continued up the alley, only a block over they faced the reality of these back roads; one entire alley was lace with mines. Checking the scanner again, it looked innocent enough to the plain eye. Lyra took only one second to click the remote to mark the position. Waving Godell with Appw’rii ahead to scout roof top edges and windows. The three of them hadn’t gotten in close enough yet to catch a patrol face to face yet. Glancing at the time unit, they were almost a standard hour in to the mission. They would regroup in the last hour on the other side and cut back directly through. Pulling up behind her squad, a vehicle rumbled a few streets over and lights were cast down the first major road way they were to encounter. Lyra could make out a sign from Godell, a sentry point. Pulling up behind them, they dropped down and she followed his finger. Two story building just to the left with a balcony cover-there were two men she could barely make out just inside the open door.

“Good place for a missile post,” Appw’rii commented.

Lyra nodded as Godell pointed right of them further up. Jutting his finger up harshly. Another point of interest..Fixing the first position on the map, she was stretching it and had to adjust the coordinates before they pulled back. They found a back door to the building and Lyra drew her knife. Godell held the ground floor and Appw’rii and her took the second. The staircase held out, and she could hear some muttering. Closing up on the room closest to the street, the door was already kicked in. Appw’rii was taking point on another room when they synced..

They both moved in and Lyra’s heart hammered in her chest as she rounded the corner in, one clone facing the window. The ventilation on her mask was silent but she was heaving for breath, she let her gun fall in it’s sling and she surged forward. He heard her but she was a faster. Grasping his mouth as she pulled him back and her knife slit his throat; easing the body down.

“Clear,” Appw’rii’ commented.

Holding the man in her arms, he gargled and then there was shouting to her left. Looking up, pass the ammunition boxes and dusty supplies she found another clone in lounging out-he looked dazed as he pulled himself up. She hadn’t been paying enough attention. Her left brought up the blaster dangling off her shoulder shooting from her hip, the red briefly lighting up the room, he dropped with a shot to the chest. His face was twisted in shock.

The man had been sleeping..and there went her own rules out the window. Backing out, Lyra almost stumbled over her own feet , tucking her knife up as she found Appw’rii waiting. The woman tapped the side of her head referencing the sound and Lyra fought the urge to cuss. Marking the position as she waved her down the stairs fast. It would best to disappear off this block immediately, they got two clones down and guard point for artillery to kill..Godell was waiting for them and she raised a hand as the comm crackled. Diving back into the alley, her eyes shifted from the scanner to the road way as she forced ahead. Her right hand was coated in blood.

“Trepol, report,” Lyra commed.

“A few sentry points covered and heavy munitions marked. There is a gas storage we plan to hit.”

“Rodger.”

Sticking to the shadows two blocks further up, they timed their cross of the main road. The lighting was scarce, and they waited for any alarm to go up but silence rang true. There was higher foot traffic here near the main road and the three of them found themselves plastered to a wall as a patrol trudged through the off street. She could tell it was getting colder, the clones breaths were forming small cloud puffs. Checking their six, she peered down the road where they had come from. Godell kept his sights on the men. One house seemed to be experiencing some traffic, too far to mark off and she looked back after the clones before motioning them across; moving to double back. There were more men moving through here and their shadows cast across the metal walls around them. Taking refuge behind a dumpster, she monitored the group drawing closer, they had to of come from the same house. No one seemed to be following in pursuit and their behavior seemed..off. Stumbling and laughter echoing as they interacted. Looking back, she pointed to Appw’rii, raising two fingers, before pointing to her again.

Appw’rii hesitated briefly before fumbling for a backup knife. Lyra returned her attention to the clones, waiting until the hand on her shoulder squeezed twice. They waited, when four came tromping past, she stalled until the last man was in her sights before she surged forward. Throwing herself on top of the man and burying her knife in his neck. They were armed well but dressed down.. Godell struggled for a moment, stuffing his hand down the man's throat with his knife but Appw’rii, she cut through the other two.

“Shavit..they were drunk.” Godell laughed as he picked himself up. Appw’rii was shaking her head, kneeling down to clean off the two knives she armed herself with, her blaster slung now on her back.

“Means they don’t count,” Hensher commented. He hadn’t made a note of anything yet otherwise..

“You kiss your mother with that mouth Godell?” Lyra followed up with a scoff, reaching down to claim her knife before hauling the body out of the way. Glancing back over her shoulder, they had to mark that house..and at Least they wouldn’t facing three hundred tomorrow.

“No ma’am..” he sounded alarmed, even confused.

When they had dumped the other bodies she pushed them ahead. Ducking out to mark the house, there was a light pouring out and a round of laughter spilling out the doorless entryway. Just beneath the window, Lyra crouched and marked the point. A chair screeched inside and she began to back peddle. A shadow in the doorway appeared, she did not wait and threw herself back behind cover in to a heap of trash. There was no shouting, no alarm but the tell tale noise of pissing could be heard and she grimaced, disgusted.

Looking up she caught Godell and Appw’rii waiting across and she picked herself up. Trading her knife between hands, she cleaned it off on her leg and sheathed it. Lyra caught her hand shaking at her side when they pulled up the alley, they had no idea..Lyra hooked around the barracks, passing some sort of warehouse. Sending Godell in, Appw’rii and her stood guard. They would be rounding up closer to the wall shortly. A few buildings ahead screamed sentry points and they skirted close to the main roads, the warehouse was mostly stripped and proved to be nothing..

The comms were quiet for the next hour and more of the buildings here were half scrapped and she slowed their pace. They played chicken with a patrol moving along the wall, and Godell pointed out a hole in the wall two buildings over. It was suspicious enough and once cleared, proved to be another missle nest. She had called for a halt after relocating. They had pushed hard and needed to look at heading back. The farther they strayed from the main roads. They were beginning to come across more mines and one had turned in five quickly. They’d be in no man’s land soon.

“Moneus, do you have me in your sights?” Hensher broke the silence again. The pair of them relayed as Lyra took her team back in to the city, moving deeper in. Over the rooftops, there was a growing activity and Lyra pulled the team in to a house to wait.

“Moneus, three buildings left of my position, do you have sights?”

“What are you doing Hensher?” Lyra paused in the doorway, leaning out to survey the road.

“Yes sir..”

“I’m about to be compromised-take the shot.”

Things were going to get interesting, even though they were nowhere near the post. Lyra had to trust Hensher on this. The comm picked up the shot and then alarms were going off. A wailing went up over the city and the air in the city had changed as lights at different posts came on. Pulling herself back into the grey striped home, Lyra looked at the other two as the comm lit up.

“Confirmed, good shot. Leftenant, movements picking up all around. We should look in to regrouping before it gets too hot.”

They had made a scene now, she could hear some blaster fire on the walls some blocks up. They could pull out now, but Lyra turned her eyes to the clock; they had another two hours to get through yet. Who’s lives she was risking now if they got caught..Lyra ducked out a second time to the empty street.

“Move to the randevu point” Lyra forced out, she didn’t know what to do otherwise. “Moneus, Irwtill adjust positions and began harassment north of the main road.”

“Leftenant...there's a lot of activity around where you entered now too..,” Irwtill warned.

“Explain,” Lyra pushed up the road, a beacon light circling over the city top. The trio moved quickly, pausing at each open alley and road. She watched as a squadron of men moved through a street over, they were going to have to start dodging a sudden increase of patrols..She wanted to put her head through the wall then and there.

“I can see the enemy..they’re pulling something up-it’s a cable line. Someone forgot a cable..” Irtwill answers.

Godell gripped her shoulder before they moved up another block, there was plenty of damaged scrap lining this section-it could offer some protection. When he didn’t release her, she turned to face him-his radar taking up half her visor. Mines.

“Who forgot their cable,” Lyra bit out, looking at the two in her squadron.

They could not advance and someone knew they were here now..Lyra turned her head sharply staring up the trapped street; marking the spot with a heavy hand.

“Simmoe’s did,” Trepol reported. “Leftenant, my squads pushed up near the fa-”

The comm went out and a chain of explosion rocked through the city. She had tuned out the blaster fire but the fire and smoke that appeared over the tops of the buildings was hard to. Something big had gone off..the gas point..

“Trepol report!” Lyra barked in to the comm. Godell was pulling at her again, and she shoved him away, turning around on him. Up the road a search light was starting up, the light blinding under the night vision. They should be good..Lyra looked down and caught Godell’s sweeper going off. The light was normally a green radar-but it gave off enough..Lyra reached forward shoving the cover down on his armguard.

“There coming this way ma’am,” Appw’rii spoke up. Lyra stepped in front of Godell , watching the clones, they were just a block up and there posture changed. They fanned out and she wasn’t going to take any chances. Readying her rifle, Godell fumbled for his.

“We have no cover here ma’am!” Godell spoke up.

“Move forward, swing left-go!” Lyra she said pushing Appw’rii forward; trying to make themselves scarce.. Adrenaline coursed through her as a blaster bolt hit just above them. The comm link hissed and crackled, she heard Hensher inquire..It didn’t matter they had been spotted. Bolting, Lyra was above to duck in to the alley when blaster light filled her vision. Her left arm had been wrenched and she found herself face down in the dirt, her arm burned and something was sputtering off sparks.

Godell tripped over her as bolts flew all around, they were returning fire. Trying to pick herself up, Lyra didn’t know what had been hit until Appw’rii had all but dragged her into the alley. Godell covering them. The woman tore at her body armor and hauled her to her feet and Lyra brushed the dust off her visor-the mine sweeper was dropped at her feet sparking and half melted..

The bolts were nailing the mouth of the alley. Lyra adjusted her hold on her on her rifle. Oh shavit.

“Lighting them up, grenade out!” Godell shouted, a hard thunk sound followed by a minor explosion.

“Ma’am-”

“Keep going! Before they flank us, Trepol, Trepol do you read me?”

“Main explosion was near Trepol, no sign of them yet. I am moving up to locate them. Irwtill and Moneus are taking heavy fire but the clones can’t pinpoint them..”

“Move!” Static was eating up the comm and Lyra forced herself to push up past Appw’rii, rifle ready as they ran. Lyra risked a glance back, making sure Godell was still with them. The blaster fire had ceased but she knew the clones weren’t going to make this easy.

“Trepol was almost to randevu I believe,” Hensher spoke up.

“Appw’rii get us there!” Lyra shouted, she was out an interface and was practically blind. The other woman matched for pace and as they hit another road. Lights were up on either side of them and they didn’t wait around as blasters started going off. Hitting a maze of connected alley ways, they were forced down to a narrow path and were kicking trash and climbing over rubble.

“-his..-tre-..readi-”

Another explosion went off but she spotted no fire or flames over the cities, the wailing alarms had not given up and it was starting to give her a headache. A fence in the alleyway was all that prevented their advance, Lyra reached over jerking Appw’rii’s arm back as she read her scanner. Clear. Thumbing her finger across the screen, she moved to the generated map, checking their location..Close enough, Lyra tossed her rifle over the fence before dropping to her knee. Godell was firing off down the alleyway, a few blaster bolts hitting the scrap around. Sucking in a deep breath, she steadied herself.

“I have sights on Trepol, comms are down!” Hensher flooded the speaker.

“Get over Appw’rii, secure the mouth of the alleyway! Godell !” Lyra ordered, the woman planting her foot in her hands and Lyra hoisting her up. The decent left much to be desired as the woman hit the ground hard. Godell came up next, stalling-

“Shouldn’t I be helping you up-”

“Oh get the kriff over Godell !” Lyra snapped, that shut him up and he dropped his point on their three o’clock and climbing over with a hoist. There was noise picking up behind them. She grunted under the weight as she helped haul him over. Maybe he had been right..Lyra double checked their back. Godell straddled the top of the fence uneasily, gun ready and trying to help her up. Latching on, blaster bolts were flying over the sky and the stars blotted out by smoke and she heaved and pulled herself over the fence line with his help. The helmet was becoming restrictive.

“I have you in my sights leftenant, get across the road. Trepol’s pulling up and will meet you in the alley, Forleacs injured.” Hensher’s confirmation was a relief. Dropping down, her ankles protest and she scooped up her weapon. Hensher could be seen dead ahead on the roof tops, he was moving, trading fire with some forces on the other side.

Appw’rii was huddled at the entrance, and she turned back checking the corner of the alley way. A fence didn’t mean anything if you could shoot through it. She caught movement on her hud and raised her rifle firing off several rounds..a clone dropped in the heap.

“Can we cross, what's the situation?” Lyra and Godell barrels were pointed through the chain link..waiting.

“Give up you scum!” The voice carried through the back ways..

“Pop another grenade on them, we will not be flanked,” Lyra slapped Godell’s shoulder, turning back and racing up to Appw’riis side. She was ducking out, firing up the road.

“We have company just north-two houses up. They’ve got a barricade there, some scrap over across the way to their hiding behind. I don’t have a count yet but we're pinned!"

Lyra scoffed, the womans worry was bleeding in to her voice. Flinching away, a blaster bolt chipping away at the corner of the building and Lyra dropped down. A familiar thunk sounded behind her, Godell fired off the grenade launcher. The force of the explosion about sent her forward, dust filling the alley, the ventilator kicking in and Lyra dropped to the ground waiting it out.

“Godell!”

“Sorry ma’am sorry-”

“A bit close there!” She bellowed.

Blaster fire, reading white on the HUD was flying through the middle of the street..

“Godell, how many shots do you have left?”

“Trepol and Simmoes are waiting for you on the other side, I can’t move I am covering their flank.” Hensher relayed. “Trepols got eyes on something hold on-”

“Three shots left ma’am.”

Lyra grabbed Appw’rii’s arm, pulling her back and checking the map once more. Practically manhandling the woman as she checked the minesweeper..It covered maybe half the road. It would have to do.

“Pop the shots where Appw’rii confirms.”

Godell moved up and Lyra turned her attention back to their flank. If they could stirr up some cover..

“As soon as they go off-we run. Hensher can Trepol hear us?” Lyra asked, her trigger finger itching, there was rustling and she could see a barrel of a blaster. Lighting up the corner, the blaster ate away at the fence and chipped the sides of the walls.

“No, he has no helm. Enemy reinforcements are coming, Simmoes is picking up-”

“Simmoes you two get ready!” Lyra shouted, laying around round in to the corner of the alley to fend it off. The blaster shaking and warning her-”Reloading!”

“Ma’am Trepols trying to flag you down! He’s presenting negative-” Godell interjected.

“What do we see boys we go straight or we die!” Lyra barked, grappling with the blaster case; ducking and reloading as a few shots were popped off. The heat was close and she could feel the smoke burning off the wall beside her. “Take the shots Godell, now!”

The hard thunks sounded and Lyra felt the ground shake as the grenades went off. Glass was shattered, he must of hit the store corner.. Rising to her feet, Lyra back tracked blindly. She couldn’t take her eyes off the alley as more men dropped out, she caught one in the face with a bolt. Ramming into Godell, she sent them both out into the street. Appw’rii pulled up beside her covering her right and they laid out shots blindly in all directions.

“Godells good, keep going!” Trepol could be heard amidst the fire fight, his voice muffled by the helm.

Godell had broke formation then and fled..Lyra grinded her teeth keeping pace with Appw’rii. Blasters whizzed passed them, nicked and hit the dirt around them. Half way out, almost there. Then..Appw’rii screamed and hit the dirt. Lyra had watched the bolt out of her corner of her eye that got her.

“Hit, leg, hit!” She wailed, turning on to her back. Flailing with her weapon trying to still shoot.

Lyra hauled down, feeling a bolt graze close to her back. Getting a hand under the strap of her cuirass. Lyra yanked hard, throwing her weight back to drag the woman out, a shadow descending upon her as Simmoes appeared. Grasping Appw'rii's other arm. They could not leave anyone behind..was Forleac even alive?

Trepol and maybe Godell were trying to cover them but the dust was starting the settle and figures were emerging out of the smoking road. She let go of Appw’rii leaving her to Simmoes, he was a beast of a man anyway.. Already a yard ahead with Appw’rii in tow. Lyra followed with a few half hearted side steps, the blaster fire too thick. Those scum, degenerates-taking stance she laidd in to any shadow that emerged. She caught one of them but something shook the air; whistling. Dirt sprayed her vision and went dark. Lyra was airborne, her feet stolen out from beneath her and a percussion punched through her chest.

The squadron Major Tavlar had sent out reported in past the twelfth standard hour, late, with three casualties.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

The cracks and rattling of the blaster bolts and explosions from the city outskirts were no reassuring sign, in no good conscience could Tavlar get any sleep, even when given the relative idle time between his meeting with the Leftenant and her recon group's deployment into the city. Once they'd return the Major didn't waste a second before he'd begin mobilizing his battalion again. He'd lost three just then in the midnight madness of the firefight but he wasn't going to waste the tactical initiative he'd obtained.

It appeared all but frigid when the Major ignored the Leftenant and her squad upon their return. He was a man who spoke little and acted quickly, whatever they needed to know from their mission was already embedded in the HUDs and holomaps of Tavlar's battalion.

"Enigma Squadron, mount up." Tavlar said, speaking into his wrist comms before soon enough he was embarking aboard a Claymore class repulsor with its designated crew, the Major taking the Commander's position he was seated for all but a moment before he felt the repulsor lifts flick on and propulse the vehicle forward. The rest of the tanks in his units weren't all far behind, already well awake from the explosive ambush and alarms set the battalion on their feet. "Keil formation on me, target priority has been set on your heads-up." Tavlar says, setting into his cadence that couldn't be more of a contrast than the ever non-caring demeanor he spelled out to her in the command post. All of his orders received nothing but affirmatives in response over the comms.

And soon enough the wedge formation set out into the city's widest corridor, a formation of four tanks taking up the centre as pairs of two splintered off into pincers, all set in position to encircle the main thrust of clones who pursued the recon team from the city.

"Anything moves, hit it. Drop your Legionaries at the marker, set out mine spotters and prioritize heavy weapons systems..." As soon as each tank had reached position, ready to bottleneck the advancing clones they stood still, the aft blast door sliding up to let several sections of troopers pour out and take up positions, upon making visual contact the squadron's instruments of death began to play its symphony. The repeating blasters began to rip through the militia men, sending crimson tracers shrieking through the air before digging into durasteel, concrete and human flesh.

----​

All whilst Tavlar began his counter offensive Voik'ryt's team was sheltered behind the lines, ushered to the command post which housed the unit's field hospital. Setting the injured in stretchers they were carried for what felt like a split second before they were set on medical beds, injected with anesthesia to ease the immediate pain of the blaster burns and shrapnel until the cold, almost intimidating medical droids began to perform on the injured. Each of their several mechanical arms holding an instrument or some sort've manipulator to help perform its task.

Immediately one of the medical droids at Lyra's side began sever the armor plates from her form before spraying a cooling gel over her las burns all the while another arm began to meticulously pick slivers of shrapnel from her flesh.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

One IED explosion with shrapnel, another with blaster shot, and the last.. indirect missile contact with shrapnel...Lieutenant Voi’Kryt had been unresponsive initially when they pulled her out of the street. Simmoes carrying her out, and other members of the team were left to bare the other wounded. They had made it out by the skin of their teeth and a few grenades. Lyra would later recall the fields, staring at the soil in the pitch black of night. Blood pooled in her helm; she had startled the unit when she tried to pry it off.

She had no recollection afterwards. The second time she came around was when they laid her out on the medical bed. She couldn’t breath, wheeze perhaps if she tried hard enough. In her delirium she was trying to salute; to report. There had been pain, then there had been this. Lyra remembered the lamp blinding her, and the distant rumble of artillery. When they began surgery and the drugs ran their course. She didn’t wake up, or they kept her drugged through out the assault. A common infantry unit wouldn’t be afforded bacta, and one look mid surgery-the burns and shrapnel that covered the upper left of her body. She’d be lucky to walk away with basic function. One less plate of armor and a foot closer, she would of been dead. Her helmet had been discarded somewhere in medical, and half of its face and hud was imploded in, the electronics glitching and stained in her blood. They listed her as stable on her charts. The others had gotten off light.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

The sounding of alarms would eventually rattle awake whatever clone left to defend the town hadn't already from the explosions and blaster fire. Whatever timing Tavlar sought ideal to begin the assault would have to be forgone for now. With no fire missions from the regional command's artillery to back up the assault the spearhead thrusted meeting far more resistance than they'd ever care to.

Eventually it seemed the shock and suprise of the night attack had worn off for both belligerents and thus began harsh night fighting. Claymores swallowed up the roadways as infantry sections hugged walls and took up positions in buildings. The key to the approach was to close the distance, make it difficult if even suicidal to fully utilize their HEAT weapons against Tavlar's armor while it continues to light up the clone infantry, slowly foregoing its main cannon for the co-axial repeating blasters as the forces closed the distance.

Thus onset one of the more primal and violent forms of modern warfare. Within the close confines of alley ways, city streets and building blocks the enemy couldn't be avoided. In open field, long range battle the weakest of the bunch could get away with shooting errant rounds with no hopes of making contact but in these close quarters every shot had to count as there weren't precious split seconds worth of margin of error to cover up the crimes of negligence and mistakes.

Imperial gains came quickly as the battle raged into the early hours of the morning. Outnumbered as they were, Tavlar's philosophy worked. Strike hard and quick when the enemy is disorganized though soon enough the Clones adapted, yielding ground as they gave up on holding a wider, weaker to exploit front they concentrated their forces to meet the Imperials head on.

While Voi'kryt might already have been ripping herself apart over the lost of three men under her command, Tavlar knew well enough he had two or three dozen ready to be given their military honors, a parceled article sent back to their families if such thing could even be retrieved. But Tavlar had long passed criminalizing himself. His men knew well the job they had to do, conscripted or not. Even if the sight of an Imperial trooper bearing his unit's marks with his face in the mud was an ever haunting one.

Eventually the armored spearhead's advance halted, the main roads and alternate alleyways buried in rubble even the repulsor lifts couldn't manage to crawl over them without putting great stress on the engine. The Imperials had the processing plant surrounded after nearly twenty hours of constant fighting. The Major, the officers beneath him and the legionaries beneath them had yet to see a moment's rest since Lyra's night attack. Each of them was rationed combat stimulants to keep their nerves sharp and deter them from sleeping as the fighting continued.

Forced to abandon his Claymore, Tavlar advanced on foot, ready to lead the assault on the factory first hand whilst Enigma squadron ferried wounded back to the forward operating base and deployed men to clear up the minefields from the alternate routes touched by neither side. One tank of eight knocked out was acceptable for the ground gained, even if they wouldn't be much use going forward.

Taking up the buildings surrounding the compound with makeshift fortifications between the Major found himself playing to a tune similar to his baptism of fire, his first campaign on the planet Garel, where he was embedded in another anti-insurgency operation. With a section of Legionaries at his back he regrouped with Leftenant Moross. A competent man but one Tavlar knew was overextended, having transferred Voi'kryt's platoon under his command while she saw vital medical treatment.

With the obvious shortage of platoon commanders, Tavlar took up the reins of command over Voi'kryt's platoon himself. For whatever the lot was when they reached Enigma group, they weren't green any longer. At least not what was left of them. Packed into what was more than likely a merchant's shop and residence the all but twenty eight of them left awaited for the assault to begin. Only for their company commander to enter, the blast door sliding open to reveal Tavlar, clad in his otherwise fortified tanker armor with his rain-drop cloak draped over his shoulders, blaster ACR hanging from his neck by the leather sling near his chest where it seldom left, being a man who still, even a decade into his service adopted many of the academy's ideals of Officer etiquette. One being that his weapon shant be fired lest the situation be dire.

Though the men and women within sight of him were eager to stand at attention one of them stood ahead, saluting at attention until Tavlar returned it, motioning for him to speak. "Sir, Sergeant Ibrac." The human man piped up.

Tavlar offered a nod, "Was told you had twenty eight of the original fourty five... I assume that's excluding wounded?"

"Yes sir...we await further orders."

"Right..." The Major said, shifting his gaze to peer over the soldiers now thrust directly under his command. They looked not far off children. Even through the grime and dust of the urban hellscape he saw fresh, unblemished faces with drained, dead eyes. He thought back to Garel, seeing the first platoon he held command of, regarding the troops only a few years younger than him at eighteen or nineteen as his peers. Now however he had well over a decade of warfare on each of them. It was an odd sight, one that nearly put a pit of dread in his stomach as he realized he'd soon be leading them through the breach much like he did years ago.

"In about seven and a half hours, at 0 hour tonight we're beginning our assault on the factory. I know you're all cursing under your breath at the idea...two nights, one after the other of fighting but it's simply the matter as I see it. We won't have our current momentum much longer...I'd rather get it all done now, whilst we're at the numbers we are and our nerves are sharp...we'll do another dose of combat stimulants before we head out before then, get your rest, I'll go over the semantics when its time." Tavlar said, giving his troopers another once over before speaking up once more.

"Only thing I can truly ask of the each of you is that you do your job...understood?" The Major sounded out, speaking with a cold placidity to his words.

"Yes Major!" The Platoon barked out in reply, some voices standing out as more stalwart than others. Regardless, Tavlar nodded them out of attention once more before he turned and made his way to the forward command post where the assault was planned.

Working with about three and a half full strength platoons against what might've very well been equal or still greater garrison within the factory. It was a large, sprawling facility enclosed within a thick durasteel, concrete and electro-charge fence. Though it was nothing that sappers could breach a hole clean through for the advance it was the space between the outer walls and gates and the physical compound that was peculiar.

Flat stretches of pale grey concrete and metallic loading docks taken up only by errant chunks of rubble and burnt out warehouse machines, droids and vehicles, the first of many victims of the clone rebellion. That was where Tavlar would lose a great deal of his men, crossing the several hundred yards or so between outer wall and factory wall. The night wouldn't help them either, knowing well they had flood lights able to be fixed on the approach but there wasn't any use in waiting longer than this.

Where the company was set, getting supplies to them safely was a task and a half, the Claymores and supply runs having to brave treacherous terrain and still wholly uncovered fields of IEDs and mines. It wasn't worth it, they had to strike now, take the factory and thus the town and from there, deactivate the explosives set around the settlement and claim it re-occupied.

[ Thematic ]
----
​

Despite the lengthened rotational cycle of the planet during harvest, night still came in what felt like moments. As ever, Tavlar was restless, too occupied with planning the assault than pick up on any rest, making it just over two days since the last time he'd caught some shut eye.

"Major...we've gotten our response and they're prepared for the fire mission, at your command..." The Leftenant piped up as soon as he'd entered the forward command post in what felt like the exact moment Tavlar shut his eyes in the hopes of conserving his energy before the assault.

"Let's get it done then, call it. In twenty we're moving out." Tavlar says, sprouting up from his seat lazed against the field holomap set before him.

"Yes, Major." The Leftenant said, pulling up his wrist comms to begin to sound off the coordinates to the backline artillery.

All the while Tavlar reached into one of the pouches of his armored mounted vest and harness, pulling out a metallic silver tube from a suitable slotted pouch, two of the original eight it held remaining. Wrenching off the cap it revealed a small needle with a surrounding guard to protect the user and the product.

Without deliberating he jabbed the needle into his neck, screwing his eyes shut as he pressed his thumb unto the button on the bottom of the pen, tossing it aside it took a spare moment before he felt the stimulants flood his senses, enhancing his tired and exhausted state into full alertness and energy almost instantly. It was said stimulants made warriors out of any man, soon enough those words would be proven right or wrong.

Not long after Tavlar shot himself up with the stimulants the fire mission began with heavy, powerful laser rounds pounding from a tall arch above the factory, each electric blue pulse emitting a thunderous blast as it punched against the roof and surrounding area of the factory.

With the taller fence surrounding the compound it was all but impossible to determine the damage inflicted, whether or not the rounds were landing anywhere helpful, only able to discern the sparks bursting from the reinforced metal roofing of the compound. Though each round could very well mean the death of a few of the clone defenders or at least structural damage it made the clones full aware of the coming offensive.

"Third and fifth platoon will stay back and provide covering fire for the rest on our approach, begin setting up your weapons systems we've got five minutes."

"Copy, Major." Leftenant Moross sounded out, leading the reserve units which would provide supporting archs of fire to Tavlar's formation, the main assault spearhead. It gave the Leftenant an uneasy feeling, knowing well his company commander and superior would be among the first through the breach, his death meaning he'd be shouldered with the responsibility of commanding the remaining company given his peer in Lyra Voi'kyrt was indefinitly incapacitated. After catching a glimpse of her wounds he was unsure if she'd remain planetside much longer before being shipped off to the supporting patrol group's fleet, given a full treatment of bacta and rehabilitation before being cleared for service once more. Regardless, he followed his orders.

As bright blue plasma arched from the sky the supporting troopers began to mount explosives near the electric charged wall that encapsulated the factory compound, primed and ready once the fire mission concluded before digging in with positions armed with heavy repeating blasters and other infantry support weapons all the while Tavlar's pointmen stood backs against the surrounding trench dug in just before the walls, using the earth for cover as they awaited, counting down each raining blue volley with blasters tightly clenched in their fingers.

Standing above the rest as they crouched and pressed themselves into the earth beneath and behind them, Tavlar kept a focused gaze on each round as it landed into the factory, the flash mitigated by his now fully enclosed visor, ever straight postured with his own blaster rifle hanging from his neck near his breast from its leather sling.

Thump...thump...thump...and then silence. Kneeling down, Tavlar lifted his arm into the air, only illuminated by the surrounding flames he peered back to one of his sappers, clenching the detonator of the breaching charges tightly before suddenly he'd rear his arm down swiftly, giving the go ahead to detonate before burying his helmeted face in the concrete dust beneath.

The foundations of the walls from six different entry points shattered with precise, metal cutting explosions, the electric charge visibly rippling as the source line was cut somewhere along the chaos. Grasping ahold of the pistol grip of his blaster rifle Tavlar rose to his feet, peering out toward the rest of his section, hefting them upright with the wave of his arm upwards before he'd press a brief pattern of buttons on his wrist comm, the combination sending a jolt to the rest of the men in his detachment. It was time to go.

"On me! Up!" Tavlar barked out, waving his troopers out as they crawled from the incline before soon enough the supporting troopers began their suppressive fire. The low hum of the tripod mounted heavy repeating blasters the first to sound before soon enough crimson hellfire began to fan out toward the main factory compound, making way for the assault group who soon after funneled through the makeshift entrances.

As if a nigh automated response, as soon as Tavlar crossed the breach the crack of flares sounded out as bright crimson streaks flew into the night sky before slowly plummeting down to the earth, the intensely bright red light shaping a deeply embedded shadow and silhouette of each approaching sith trooper, making way for the clones to begin a suppressive volley of their own.

"Cover to cover! Get grenade launchers on their firing positions but don't spend any more than ten seconds with out advancing! Go!" Tavlar barked into his wrist comm before he motioned his section on him to group up behind the burnt out husk of an industrial lift vehicle. Peering down the open field he saw another do the same, hearing the thud of two grenade launchers before soon enough the smoky arch pounded into the durasteel wall of the factory and they advanced forward, an action which Tavlar's section mirrored, the rest of his men taking braced positions as they laid down blaster fire toward the main building as grenadiers ranged in and let off their own volley.

Slapping a hand on the shoulder of the next man down the line Tavlar led the next advance forward, his hand still tightly clenching the pistol grip of the blaster rifle he'd yet to discharge once in the close quarters battle. Almost impressive.

The next barrier came after a long winded run which left one of his men with a blast bolt digging into his chest plate however the chemical courage he injected not an hour prior left him keep pace before they reached a pile of concrete and metal rubble where the grenadiers reloaded and repeated the same action under their section's covering fire.

There wasn't any audible orders from the major at this point. From both front and rear hails of blaster fire fanned out in waves of death, however the assault detachment grew closer, now able to hear the blaster fire from the supporting infantry hitting its mark on the factory walls.

With another strike on the shoulder of the next man, Tavlar's section was forward again, looking down the line it seemed the flanking two were making pace, having lost four men between the three units, these were acceptable losses...so far.

The last stretch bared no fruits by means of any cover, only the beast that was the rebel compound itself. Everyone down the line knew it and with a hardline sprint the Imperial assault ushered forward. This time, none of them were all too fortunate, the closer range meaning far more accurate fire from the clones as blaster bolts punched through at least three of the men under Tavlar's direct command, slamming them unto the hard durasteel beneath before another burst lit up the incapacitated bodies, almost assuring death.

Reprieve came soon enough as the assault group reached the main building, hugging the walls with their backs they peered up in firing volleys toward the elevated firing positions to little avail.

"Charges! Now! Ready grenades, explosives! Prime!" Tavlar barked out down the line, his wrist comms catching the command to which it recieved a swift response. The charge was set, magnetically locking itself to the wall as the troopers lined up on either side of it, the grenadiers with under-barrel grenade launchers at the ready as the other men each held a thermal detonator in their main hand save for a point man who kept his eyes down the sight of a disruptor carbine, ready to revert any brave clone who saw fit to charge the breach into organic paste.

"Breaching charges! Detonate!" Tavlar ordered, focusing his gaze on the charge as the adaptive lenses of his helmet mitgated the flash. With a wave of his flat hand the remainder of his section sent explosive hell through the breach. Lobbing detonators and launching grenades before stepping out of the line of sight of the opening, taking up their blaster carbines once more before the scattered and repeated explosions rung off within the confines of the factory. Even through the sound dampening of their legionary helmets and durasteel between them the loud and close proximity charges sent ringing through Tavlar's ears.

"On point! Through the breach! Forward!" He ordered out, the pointman first with his disruptor carbine which the Major heard nigh instantly discharge, disintegrating the first clone before soon enough the disruptor trooper himself ate a blaster round to the neck, sending him to the floor with a thud.

Set on the open warehouse floor the troopers ducked and ran between production vats, halted assembly lines and shelves of stock as they fired across the main level and upwards to cat walks and stair ways, all but fully enclosed in by clones.

"Clear the main floor and then we're headed up! Move!" Irveric sounded out through his wrist comms before soon enough his eyes widened as a blaster bolt zipped along the side of his helmet. When his eyes traced to the source he instinctively took the blaster rifle into both hands, rearing the sights into his vision before firing a three round burst down range into the clone, all three of the blaster bolts cracking off and planting center mass on his target.

"Major! Up and left!" His section's NCO sounded out before taking a bolt to his left arm, sending him writing unto the floor to which Tavlar responded with another deadly burst, sending three more bolts on target.

"Support group! Close in on the factory, drag away the wounded you find and plant cables to breach the second floor! Move!" The Major sounded out into his wrist comms, ending the order with a word of command as he did every other.

As the fire ceased from the supporting infantry more and more guns centered unto the assaulting troopers as they cleared more ground on the main floor, many even pulling themselves into melee combat,a fate which Tavlar avoided only a moment longer before a heavy weight came crashing down from above, one of the clone militants tackling him to the ground from above. Tavlar was sent crashing down unto his stomach, the clone bashing a heavy , spiked mace against his legionaire's helmet which sent a ringing through his ears, the shock padding mitigating the blunt force only so much on the ensuing hits before soon enough a blaster bolt was sent through the clone's head, ending him.

"Major! Are y-" The trooper sounded out as he began to lift the body from over Tavlar, only for him to be slain himself. Turning beneath the dead weight, Irveric was able to wrench the corpse from him before taking up his blaster rifle, sending out an automatic volley into the catwalk above and across from him as he made way for the ascending metal staircase, pressing his hand against his helmet as he sought to apply pressure to the pained area, though was able to feel the revealed electronic components of the helmet. A concerning turn but there wasn't any time to worry about that.

"Ascend the stairs! Up! Move!" Tavlar ordered, sending a burst downrange into a clone as he sprinted across one of the cat walks. The main floor was mostly cleared and soon enough a reassuring burst of explosives sounded out from the level above as the reserve squads made their entry, leaving a hail of blaster fire to ensure.

Slinging the rifle back over his chest Tavlar ascended the stairs as they encroached on the enclosed second level, the blast door opening to reveal another clone, clenching an electric charged vibro knife in his hand he made a stab toward the Major but with both hands free he was able to grasp ahold of his weapon wielding wrist and send it slamming against the wall next to him, the knife dropping to the floor where it clammored down the metal stairs. Keeping him pinned against the wall Tavlar grasped ahold of the pistol grip of his rifle, twisting the blaster around before planting a five round burst into the clone's brainpan, sending him to the floor with a thud.

Turning the corner the major peered into the second floor where the reserve squads seemed to take greater advantage of the explosive charges in the more confined space with far less in the means of close quarters weapons, the second floor detachment of clone rebels equipped with tripod mounted e-webs and other staionary weapons.

After a seemingly concise firefight, the second floor was cleared out. "The foreman's control center is upstairs. Plant a charge on it. Move." Tavlar sounded out, his barking orders stressing his vocal cords as he clenched his skull from over his helmet once more, feeling blood pool where the armored helmet casing linked with the armorweave neck guard.

"Detonate..." Tavlar ordered after the charge was planted, the blast door curving inwards in burned distorted durasteel, leaving a rush of a section's worth of troopers funneling through the entrance way, weapons trained on the remaining clones, one of which markedly the leader of this detachment, marked by the crimson armor over his out-dated Imperial Legionary armor and his facial features resembling none of the clone patterns they'd just encountered.

"Don't-don't I surrender! Me and whoever is left of my men...we surrender..." He says, visibly and audibly panicked in his tone. A pathetic whelp. The time for surrender had long passed for him yet he was knelt, hands clenched and knees buckled in submissive pleas. Tavlar shifted his way through his troopers who all stood still with their weapon's trained on the man.

Motioning one of them forward, Tavlar collected a slicer's spike from a pouch on his chest rig. "Put this in the terminal it'll take whatever we'll need from it." He says, pointing a flat hand toward the portable, military grade terminal, The Major's focus then shifting to one of the pointmen, identifiable from the disruptor carbine he held. "A breaching charge if you would..." He orders, the breacher slinging his weapon before immediately shifting to produce a breaching charge from its hip mount, turning it around before holding it out to Tavlar, business end away from the Major who grasped ahold of it and paced about to the other side of the terrorist officer, planting the charge on the backside of his cuirass before thumbing the primer button, magnetically locking it to his armor.

"Wh-what n- no no no, I know more than the terminal, I can help you win the war I can! Please just- don't!"

"Slice complete..." The trooper before the terminal said, offering the spike back to Tavlar who nodded in gratitude briefly before pocketing it once more, turning to leave the room he motioned the men to follow his head.

"Once the blast door closes behind us...detonate." He ordered to which...it was obliged when the panicked pleas and screams were shut out by the metallic hiss of the blast door and then the eventual explosive thud of the breaching charge all but shredding the rebel commander from the confined explosive force. Humane, one could argue...or creatively demented.

The town was taken, objective was secured and re-occupation and resettlement would soon be underway. Tavlar was confident however he would be reassigned but...before he cared to get any rest he was ushered to the medical post at the main command post, his helmet twisted free from his skull to give way to a splattering of blood as medical droids began to seal up the lacerations around the side of his head and face, occupying the bed adjacent to his inferior officer Voi'kryt.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

A machine tracked the Lieutenants vitals, small, uncomberson, and steadily beeping. She reeked of disinfectant and blood. She might of appeared peacefully sleeping but several sets of tubes were hooked up to her, between IV and morphine-She really looked like she came out of a bad medical holo vid. When the assault had begun and the influx of injured had skyrocketed the droids and support staff had turned their attention to the critical cases arriving. Two and a half liters of blood, now drained still hung off her rack and there was also the breathing apparatus that swallowed half her face up. what could be seen at least; the other half was under heavy bandages. Her left side was under reconstruction, there would be scarring, and a fracture in the shoulder now immobilized.

Someone from intelligence had collected her helmet, though the intensive damage, there was a chance to recover the field recordings for review. Somewhere in that time they had tapered her off the morphine amidst assault to conserve supplies and evaluate her status her. Disoriented, and in pain-when Lyra came around for the third and final time she had woken slowly some time after the assault. There was no claymore ringing in the distance, just a nasty onset of tinnitus and she was choking on the breathing tube. Her good hand reaching up trying to undo it-fighting against any calm nature.

The medical droid charged with her care had stepped in to assist, threatening to sedate her again before she complied. It wasn't a pretty sight with the spit laced with blood. What she noticed quickly despite it all was the silence, something she did not expect to find in a war zone. The droid blocked most her view, reiterating her condition as she shouldered her way in to sitting up. Her hand racing along the bandages and sling she found herself in; there was pain but the meds had her floating. Eleven standard hours ago she had been on transport heading planet side, and now she was laid low in a medical tent with out any clue..Lyra had not strong recollection and that terrified her.