Note from The Typer: I'm back, thanks for all the patience. 'Nuff said.

Chapter XXI-Day 900-Clone Wars-2220 Hours-Separatist Prototype Capital Ship

Blurred vision confused me. I must have blacked out when we crashed. My vision finally cleared up a bit. I saw a Super Battle Droid charging his gun. It suddenly jerked back and shot the ceiling by mistake. Twenty-Two had jumped on its back and began stabbing it repeatedly. I got up and saw the pilot and co-pilot had been killed in the crash. We were sent through the window! A couple battle droids were shooting at Twenty-Two, I grabbed my assault rifle from the crashed ship, the rest of my equipment, and started firing at the droids.

After unlodaing a clip on the battle droids, the SBD had managed to grab Twenty-Two and throw him on the ground. It began charging up its hand. I checked the droid with my shoulder, and the shot missed Twenty-Two’s head. I popped off the panel in the back of the SBD’s head, pulled out a sonic grenade and inserted it. I grabbed Twenty-Two and we ran. We only had seven seconds left. The SBD stood up and began to charge his weapon at us. The two of us made our way up to the central power room as the SBD exploded in a sonic ball implosion.

The central power room was a link to the three other main support systems throughout the ship. The main room had a large metal pillar in the room that powered all auto-turrets on the outside of the ship. Three separate doors lead to the thee main support systems. Two droids were managing the manual turrets. The two of us quickly sliced up the droids and placed a small demolition charge on the auto-turret pilar. Two mini-turrets on the ceiling attempted to kill us, but were useless against the Mandalorian armor we were wearing. We did not even bother wasting ammo on the pathetic things.

I went over to the power core that ran the ship and placed two charges near the white core. They most likely had a backup generator somewhere, but this would give the Striker more time to fight back with the ship’s systems down temporarily. The ship rumbeled as cannon fire bombarded the capitol ship. Twenty-Two had placed two charges on the life support system running the shields.

We detonated the currently placed charges on the life support system. The ship shook, and the lights went out for a brief ten seconds. Then they flickered back to life. Figures. All that was left was the engine room. Two more pathetic turrests gaurded the hallway into the engine room. We once again passed by, got in there, and planted our charge.

We got into the hanger bay before I pushed the detonator. The ship began to shake violently just moments after pressing the trigger. It was then I realized we had no ride out. “Three-Eight, Twenty-Two, get back to the hanger bay,” called the Advisor, “I’m sending a small ship in to pick you up.”

“Don’t bother Advisor, tell any ships to clear the area. We’re getting out of here by another mean.” I shouted back.

“And what would that be Three-Eight?”

“Yeah,” Twenty-Two added.

The ship rumbeled once more.

“No time to explain,” I said, “Just pull all ships nearby out of there.”

I tapped Twenty-Two and pointed at a nearby scout ship.

“Think you can fly that thing?” I asked him.

“It’s our only shot out of here,” he replied as we started running to the ship, “It’s the Separatist’s fastest in-system fighter.”

We quickly got into the small ship and I hopped in back while Twenty-Two strapped himself in and took the controls.

“Oh, this is a cince. It’s all in droid command talk. I’ll put the engines and shields on an eighty to twenty ratio. Once we need to, I’ll fire the afterburners. That should get us far enough.”

The ship quickly rose and shot forward. I saw one of the hanger walls blow out as we made our way out of the second hanger opening. I jolted into the back of my seat as the afterburners fired. We sped out as the engines of the ship attempted to gain power and stabilize, but failed and hot balls of fire blew out of the engies in many directions. Finally, the ship split and the back end colided with the back end of the second Capitol ship.

“That good enough for you Advisor?” Twenty-Two shouted over his comm unit and the explosion.

“Delta Lead, we detected one ship leaving just before the explosion, were you on it?”

“We’re just fine Advisor,” I replied.

“Okay, report back to the Striker. We’re sending dropships down to Dxun. I want you to oversee the rescue of Six-Two and Four-Oh.”

“Sorry Advisor, we’re on a ship already. We’ll just meet the troops when they get down there.”

“Three-Eight, listen to me. You and Twenty-Two are the only ones who know the layout of the base. If you head down there and we lose you, we’ll be ripped to shreds when we make the final assault. If you come back to the Striker and guide the dispatch troops I am sending, then maybe Six-Two, Forty, and the rest of the army we have here have a chance to make it out of this alive.”

I sat there thinking for a moment, nothing but the small whine of the ship’s engine in hearing.

“Sir,” said Twenty-Two, turning around in his chair and looking at me, “Course of action?”

Not expendable my plasma scorched butt.

I moved my jaw from side to side, grinding my teeth together. “Regroup with the Striker and land. Time to save our boys.”

Twenty-Two got back to the Striker as quickly as possible. The two of us were rushed through multiple hallways once more and wound up inside a dark room with a large viewscreen against the far wall. A few steps into the room and there was a short four steps onto a lower level of the room in which you could take a seat among dozens and watch the viewscreen.

The Advisor stood up at the sight of our enterance and quickly welcomed us to the nearby chairs. He introduced Twenty-Two and I to Lieutenant Lupo, the officer in charge of the dispatch squad. Even though Walon and uncle Kal did not see eye to eye on their terms of how to train Mandalorians, Kal did teach me something of advice that has always stuck with me. In any situation that is not yet agressive, it pays to be polite. I offered the Lieutenant my hand. He stared at it for a moment and then began walking over to the steps. “He’s a little anxious,” said The Advisor as he attempted to apologize for Lieutenant Lupo’s attitude, “You may have secured our ability to outlast the battle for now, thanks to that amazing move you two pulled on the Separatists. But some other problems and situations have arised. For now, take a seat. You will be much more comfortable if we dealt with the situation sitting. It may take a while as well.”
I turned towards the steps and Twenty-Two followed. I took a seat to the left of the Advisor, who was seated to the left of Lupo. Twenty-Two took the seat to my left and Lupo’s assistant was at the end of the row on the right.

The Advisor took the moment to explain the situation. “Okay. The capital ship you two destroyed crashed into the other ship. And though it is not destroyed yet, its systems are failing rapidly. It is only a matter of time before the ship crash lands into Dxun. To avoid extra losses, the Separatists are evactuating all the ships they can and making their way to Dxun. It would appear the only real threat left to deal with would be the Mandalorians. But we intercepted a transmission coming from the Separatist’s remaining capital ship. Most of it was heavily filled with static but we happened to hear a request for reinforcments from a nearby planet, just on the border of deep space.”

“Well there’s no problem though,” commented Twenty-Two as he leaned his head near me to get into the conversation. “If we intercepted the transmission then the Separatists have no idea that the message was stopped. And whoever was on the other line won’t get it from wherever they are.”

“That’s just the thing,” said Lieutenant Lupo. “Why would a Separatist ship roam just outside the boarder of known space? Any outer-rim worlds are hardly worth anything in this war, strategically or on terms of gaining something useful. Both sides of the war are faltering on credits, and can’t afford risk missions out there. Even if the Separatists were that daft, my assistant looked up some figures and found nothing useful on any of the planets in the region where the transmission was headed.”

The assistant butted in, “I only got an estimate of where the transmission was heading though. I couldn’t get any good round specifics, and we won’t for another while.”

“Another while?” I asked. “How’ll we improve on the location data if the transmission path has been stopped.”

“Because the transmission was let go,” The Advisor said gravely.

“You let it go!” Twenty-Two repeated.

“I had no other choice,” said The Advisor, defending himself. “I held it for as long as I could and relayed a message to command. They told me to let it continue on its path. The war is getting thicker and harder to make any movements against the Separatists without being spotted ahead of time, and vice-versa.”

Lupo finished The Advisor’s argument. “If the Separatists have some sort of tactic or something to gain out there in those deep space colonies, then we need to know what they’re doing and get a step ahead of them.”

“The recipients have not yet replied to the message though. It should be arriving within the next half-hour or so,” commeted Lupo’s assistant.

“Meanwhile,” drifted The Advisor, “Let me get you two updated on the current event of affairs on Dxun. Two dispatch squads of four are moving into Dxun as we speak.”

“Which squads are on their way?” I asked.

“The only two we had on board, Lambda and Zeta of 9th battalion.”

“Good,” I replied out loud, and in my head.

I don’t want anything other than the best on this.

“How are you going in silent?”

Lupo’s assistant answered that one. “We’re transmitting the engine frequencies of the ships with the two dispatch squads as a single frequency back at the Mandalorian sattelite reading all movement around Dxun. AND, we’re using ID tags taken off of the Separatist ship out there slowly falling into the atmosphere.”

I nodded my head, then leaned over to Twenty-Two. I asked him silently, “Is that the best technique?”
He leaned in towards me and replied, “I’m not too much of an expert on frequency tactics, but the only problem I can find is the position this frequency is sent from. They’re probably sending the signal to one of the ships with a dispatch squad to re-send the signal down to the Mandalorians. But once that Separatist ship starts getting close enough to Dxun for the Mandalorian sattelites to pick its signal up, their cover is blown.”

“So we’re under a time limit here?”

“That’s what it seems like.”

Shoot.

A voice kicked into hidden speakers in the room. “Sir, the dispatch squads are entering Dxun’s atmosphere. One of the squad leaders is requesting your help.”

The Advisor replied, “Patch the sound through the speakers fourteen.”

Hidden speakers throughout the room began to crackle and a low rumble in the background could be heard. The Advisor quickly popped his helmet off and spoke into the air. “Dispatch squad Lambda leader, can you hear me?”

Through the noise of the speakers came a low, gruff voice. “I read you Advisor. We’re about to head through Dxun’s atmosphere. And I’m a little shaky for my men. I want to know a little bit more about what we’re up against.”

The Advisor leaned forward and looked down the row at me. I nodded, popped my helmet off quickly and spoke to the air. “Lambda leader, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” replied the voice, “Who is this?”

“This is RC-Delta Three-Eight. Me and my squad were the ones responsible for this mess. But that’s a whole different story. What you need to know is that you are headed up against Mandalorians, real Mandalorians. They are about twice as strong as a republic commando can be, and will not, I repeat will not welcome your visit with some chaffa cakes. Two of my men have been captured by the Mandalorians, they will be in blue and gold armor, probably helmetless, may be currently in torture, and will of course look like yourselves.” I paused for a moment, and the Advisor took it to talk a little bit.

“You will be set down aproximately one click north of the Mandalorian base. Head south to the base. When you come across it Delta Three-Eight will provide further instructions. For now Seventy-Seven, turn on your HUD-cam uplink.”

“Copy that.” The large viewscreen in front of us turned into a mainstream video of a clone’s helmet. Through the helmet I could see three other clones in armor slightly bulkier than those of an ARCs but less bulky than a Republic Commandos.

“Uplink your audio too,” said The Advisor’s assistant.

The speakers in the room now rumbled with the sound of the gunship’s engines. After a moment of no talking, the gunship pilot hollered to Lambda squad. “We’re entering Dxun’s atmosphere, I’m going to put the engines to silence. We’ll be landing down in a minute or two so I suggest you get your weapons ready.”

Seventy-Seven asked what we should take with us. “Use the heavy, quiet stuff. Moderate long range weaponry should do the trick. More than anything though, do everything you can to not engage these guys. They have heavy blasters, and taking one of these guys down on your own would require ten minutes alone. You don’t have that. Not to mention, the Mandalorians would not hesitate to kill my men the second an alarm went off.”

The pilot called out to both squads, “We’ve arrived at your drop. Have a nice trip.” The pilot then shifted the person he was talking to. “Advisor, should I head back to The Striker, or wait for Zeta and Lambda to extract and pick them up?”

I leaned forward and stared down at The Advisor. He turned his head and looked at me. Without speaking, The Advisor almost telepathically knew my preference. “Keep your engines prepped Ninety-Nine.”

I sat back into my chair, but my muscles did not relax. Good, I thought in reference to The Advisor’s choice.

The two squads of clones roped down alongside the gunship and raised their weapons immediately. The display through the HUD was dark, and Seventy-Seven immediately noticed and took action. “Squads, turn on night vision. Keep your head lamps off, don’t want to let anyone see us coming.”

My gut turned and twisted. I leaned forward in anxiety. I then gave some advice. “Keep your eyes open men. There’s more than just Mandalorians on Dxun. We encountered a beast trying to get into the camp.”

I saw Seventy-seven look around for the seven other clones that were with him, and then nodded his head southward. Together, the seven clones began to head south in a somewhat horizontal line. Their weapons never lowered as they were constantly alert. They seemed very aware of their surroundings and knew where not to step.

A number of minutes passed without anything happening. The time passed slowly and I began to wonder why nothing had happened. I argued with myself as to why the Mandalorians had not spotted the squads.

Why haven’t they found them yet? They simply are not in range to be spotted. But with everything going on, you’d expect the Mandalorians to be sending scouts out. They could be preparing instead of scouting or doing recon work.

I felt so helpless, I had very little control over what was going on. I was limited to the ability of these clones, and also the overall choices of The Advisor. Meanwhile, Fixer and Scorch were probably being tortured.

After about ten minutes of slowly making their way to the base, Seventy-Seven raised his hand up flatly, they all crouched down and froze. Seventy-Seven aimed down his scope and pointed out to us spotters on top of buildings. They are watching for us.

“You catch that Advisor?” asked Seventy-Seven.
“We’ve got it,” I replied. “Stay hidden. Make your way around the forest border south-west. From there, you should be able to find a tall, skinny building. It is the crew quarters. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Mandalorians are doing an interrogation of my men in there.”

“Copy that,” replied Seventy-Seven as he motioned for his two squads to close in on him. He briefly spoke to his squad, “Keep your eyes open men. Recon formation.”

The soldiers shifted quietly through the woods in their camoflague armor. They rounded around the base slowly until they came upon a dim yellow light coming from the just out of sight crew quarters. Seventy-Seven raised his hand, and I could see why. A patrol guard had entered into the range of the viewscreen. As the other men in the squad noticed what Seventy-Seven saw, they raised their weapons. Seventy-Seven aimed down his scope and set his sights on the Mandalorian.

Seventy-Seven’s deep voice entered, “Advisor, I have a clear shot. Do I take it?”

The Advisor slowly shifted in his seat and then spoke. “Uh, Lambda Leader you were cleared to take down any hostiles you believe to be necessary deaths. The call is yours.”

Silence once again followed. Then, “Delta Lead, should I take this shot?”

I ground my teeth together while thinking. I then replied, “You still have the element of surprise on your hands. I would recommend taking advantage of it until it is no longer necessary. If the guard does not spot you, let him pass. If you think your cover is about to be blown, I’ll alert you and have your men silently jump him.”

A quiet copy replied back.

The Mandalorian unlatched his helmet and breathed the fresh air. He took a few steps toward the edge of the forest directly in front of Seventy-Seven. He peered around for a bit, then popped his helmet back, turned around, and went back inside. Seventy-Seven spoke to his men. “Trasher, Indigo, Ratchet, on me. The rest of you stay outside and keep on your toes for guards. Be ready to let the fireworks fly when I say so.”

Seventy-Seven made his way out of the forest as three other clones emerged from the trees and bushes. The three clones fell into formation behind Seventy-Seven as he made his way up to the door in which the guard had just gone back into. Seventy-Seven pulled out a suppressor for his gun and began to fasten it onto the barrel of the DC. He turned around and watched his squadmates do the same. He then slowly opened the door and peeked inside. It was dimly lit by a hanging light. No one was in sight. Seventy-Seven slid the door open more, leaned inside, and peered around the corners of the room to make sure the room was empty. It was. He then slid the door completely open and moved into the room, keeping an eye on a nearby hallway to his right. The squad filed into the room slowly, each member fastened his sights on a certain opening in the room, whether it be a door or a hallway.

“Which way,” whispered Seventy-Seven.

“Take the hallway,” I said.

The hallway was dark with a light coming from the left in the room at the end of the hallway. The men crouched down and quietly stuck to the left wall and rounded the corner of the hallway to find an armory. The armory was also empty.

Twenty-Two spoke out. “There’s a staircase behind you,” Seventy-Seven spun around and saw the stairs, “Quietly make your way up the stairs. The barracks are just inside the door at the head of the stairs.”

I leaned forward and watched Seventy-Seven slowly make his way up the stairs, down the tiny hall, and to the door.

“Hold,” I said. Seventy-Seven stopped, crouched, and signaled for his men to stop. “Swtich to thermal view.” Seventy-Seven did so and the HUD changed to show a cluster of thermal readings inside the room ahead. I could see one of the red blobs throw a punch at one blob of a pair, tied to a chair.

There they are.

“I think we can take it from here, Three-Eight,” Seventy-Seven commented.

“Take them by surprise, Lambda lead.”

Seventy-Seven turned around to his squad and signaled to breach. The three clones lined up behind him. Seventy-Seven pulled out a flashbang, pushed down the button, swung the door open quickly and tossed in the grenade. He quickly closed the door and waited for the bang. A quiet sheen let out through the speakers. Seventy-Seven then threw the door open. “GO!” He shouted and charged into the room. He immediately ran to Fixer and Scorch, who were barely visible in the very dimly lit, dark room. But before Seventy-Seven could untie them, a Mandalorian had turned him around and jabbed his wrist gauntlet into Seventy-Seven’s helmet from the side.

A loud mixture of metal crunching entered the speakers and the viewscreen went static. My mouth gaped open in panic. Though the visuals were dead, we could still hear through the speakers. I could hear struggling, shooting, even a small explosion. I heard a scream in agony, men shouting to each other, ruffling as the Katarn armor slammed up against each other, and blaster fire. I waited for a sign, something to let me know what was going on. Twenty-Two had turned to me and looked down at my legs. I looked at them and saw that I was lifting my legs up on the balls of my feet, bouncing my legs up and down in anticipation.

Finally, a voice, “Advisor! Have those gunships ready to send us up! We have commandos Four-Oh and Six-Two! We’re making our way to the LZ as we speak. We’re going to need some firepower on our side.”
I stood up as The Advisor said, “We’re going to send down reinforcements in a minute Seventy-Seven. Good job.”

I began walking down the isle of chairs towards the steps. The Advisor stood up and stopped in front of me. “Three-Eight, I don’t think you should go.”

“I’m expendable. I’m going.” I gently pushed him aside and placed my helmet back on as I jumped up the steps and left the room, Twenty-Two following behind me.