Guerrilla Warfare
"You heard some VIP is supposed to arrive for the graduation?" the stormtrooper said, looking over at his comrade.
"Its probably just some Admiral." He replied, continuing to look out over the vast tract of desert far below the metal catwalk they stood upon. "No, Dave over on port security said he heard it might be someone important!" The stormtrooper quipped excitedly, giving away his age and inexperience to his more veteran coworker. "Maybe even..." the stormtrooper looked around quickly before lowering his voice, "...maybe even the Emperor!"
"The Emperor isn't coming here." the veteran responded in an annoyed tone.
"Well why wouldn't he?" the younger trooper asked. "Because the Emperor hasn't left Coruscant in years."
"But he might! Come surprise the Academy and inspire the new officers. Would do them some good if you ask me!"
"Except no one's asked you." the veteran replied, scanning the desert below. The younger trooper seemed stung by the comment, and ambled aimlessly behind the veteran trooper without another word. Spotting some unclaimed crates, the younger trooper set his blaster on one before opening and rummaging through one. The young trooper found crates of shock batons, power couplings, locator beacons, nothing particularly interesting. The veteran ignored him for a minute or two before glancing over to see the trooper sitting on one of the crates, blaster leaned against it, helmet off munching on a ration he'd either brought or found. "Better not let Caste catch you like that." the veteran said aloud, before looking back to the desert. The younger trooper stopped mid bite, taking a long look at his half eaten ration bar before tossing it over the rail and donning his helmet once more. He stood from the crate, grabbing his rifle in both hands and taking his place next to the veteran trooper. He matched the veteran's disciplined stance, but only for a few minutes before he began to shift his weight on either foot, adjusting the shoulder straps of his gleaming white armor, and finally letting out a bored sigh.
"What." The veteran said, not looking over at the young trooper. "This is just boring. I joined the Corps to see some action! Not stand here and guard...what are we guarding again?" The veteran sighed, before turning and pointing at the maintenance door into the domed city. "That."
"...the door?"
"Yes."
The trooper looked at the door, then down through the grated catwalk at the several thousand foot drop to the desert below.
"Why?"
"Because Caste said too." The young trooper looked up and down the catwalk, noting that the maintenance door - the one they had come through to even access this catwalk - was the only one. The catwalk itself was only a few hundred feet long, dotted every so often with a glowing red access panel that probably controlled the warning lights that ringed the domed city.
"But why-- "
"Because he gave us an order, and that's what we're going to do." The young trooper sighed, moving back to match the stance of his comrade. In the distance another Zeta-class shuttle materialized from the desert haze, heading towards the entry port far down the perimeter to their right, its TIE L/N escorts breaking off and heading back towards space. The young trooper watched the shuttle as it came into view, large and impressive even from the far distance. His gaze followed it until it disappeared on the other side of the durasteel column blocking view of the entry port. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting the position of the shoulder straps once more, armor clanking as he did so. Minutes went by, passing like hours to the young trooper. He began to hum to himself, teetering on the balls of his feet.
"Knock it off."
The young trooper stopped, trying to stay as still as his comrade. Minutes more passed, each second feeling longer and longer. The trooper looked at the veteran, wondering how he could stand so still for so long. He looked back at the desert, trying to focus. He couldn't hold it.
"Do you think Vader will come for the graduation?"
The veteran trooper let out a sigh.
Hours had passed, the sun now high over the Mandalorian desert. The winds had picked up a heavy haze, making it difficult to see the ground immediately below the catwalk or the entry port down the perimeter. The veteran trooper was scanning the horizon with a pair of macrobinoculars, looking for any heat signatures amongst the gusts of wind and sand. The younger trooper was sat on the catwalk, back against the stack of crates, falling asleep as his head bobbed occasionally. The veteran scanned left to right, seeing no heat signatures placed the macrobinoculars back in its container on his belt. He gripped his rifle tightly as the wind buffeted the catwalk, glancing down to check the chronometer on his wristpad. Another hour to go before the shift was over. He looked over at the younger trooper, who was now snoring loudly in the seated position, head hung low. The veteran walked over to the sleeping trooper, boots clanging on the grated catwalk. He kicked the troopers side lightly, "Hey, wake up." The young trooper's head shot up, before he jumped to his feet and the position of attention. "Relax, cadet." the veteran quipped, moving back to his position. "Hey, I'm a Trooper, not a Cadet!" "Could have fooled me." The trooper relaxed a little, reaching his left hand up and into his helmet to scratch his face. "Why are we out here again?" "For the last time, because Caste-- " The trooper turned to berate the young trooper once more, before hearing the distinct sound of a jetpack firing behind him. Immediately he turned around, raising his blaster and firing at the black and red armored form of an assaulting Mandalorian. He only managed to get two shots off before both feet of the Mandalorian impacted his chest, the jet powered attack sending him flying over the guard rail and down into the windy abyss below. The Mandalorian landed on his feet, facing the surprised young trooper who stumbled backwards. "He-Hey! Stop right there!" he yelled, raising his rifle. The Mandalorian shot his left arm out, a grappling hook wrapping around the rifle and ripping it from his hands. The trooper looked around frantically, spotting the open crate to his left full of shock batons. He quickly grabbed one, flicking it downward and turning it on with a crackle as he readied himself to fight. "Come on! Come get me!" the trooper yelled, opening his arms to taunt the Mandalorian. The Mandalorian instantly exploited the gap, firing a wrist blaster into the troopers chest. The trooper crumbled to the ground, shock baton clattering away and rolling off the edge of the catwalk. The Mandalorian swept the catwalk, checking for hostiles before calling over the helmet comm, "Catwalk is secure." In the distance the sound of several jetpacks firing pierced the howling wind, as six more Mandalorians clad in variously colored armor landed behind the first. The first Mandalorian removed his helmet, revealing a scarred face framed by short cropped salt and pepper hair that didn't match his otherwise youthful appearance. He held his helmet under his arm as he rummaged through the belt of the young trooper, producing a single code cylinder. He tossed it backwards to the Mandalorian behind him, who moved and shoved it into the port by the maintenance door. It open with an unheard whoosh, the team of fighters swiftly moving into the maintenance corridor. Before closing the door, the first Mandalorian rolled the young trooper off the catwalk, dropping his body to the abyss below. The team moved as one down the maintenance corridor, framed by power conduits and pipelines, lit only by the red glowing lights from below the grated floor. They shuffled onto the single turbolift, cramming in as it rose into the shaft above. "Skarrec, did you remember the charges?" the first Mandalorian asked a golden armored female behind him. In response she removed her pack, opening the flap to reveal a plethora of thermal detonators. The group all quickly took several each, hooking them to their belts or in pockets. "Remember, hard and fast. We can't give them time to react." The group stood silently as the turbolift rose, the white side lighting flashing as they passed. As the turbolift began to slow, the first Mandalorian donned his helmet, and drew two blaster pistols from holsters on either leg. The turbolift came to a stop before a wide doorway with a soft whoop and a hiss as the door unlocked. The door split apart, opening to a wide hangar bay full of TIE fighters, troopers, and a single Zeta-class shuttle being unloaded at its center. The Mandalorians activated their jetpacks, jumping into action and flying into the open hangar, blasters firing with the ruthless accuracy of trained warriors. The troopers, slow to react, watched helplessly as the first few troopers were cut down before dropping the crates they carried and drawing their rifles. The Mandalorians scattered in all directions, sowing chaos on the hangar bay as the blaster bolts flew in all directions. One by one the Mandalorians landed on TIE fighters, slapping down and arming a detonator before jumping back into the air. Troopers ran for cover to dodge the hailstorm of blaster fire, some falling to friendly fire as they missed the nimble warriors. A group of the troopers found cover behind a stack of crates, managing to down a single Mandalorian before an accurate missile detonated amongst them. The deafening alarm of the hangar came to life, wailing through the open space. "Time to go!" the lead Mandalorian called on the helmet comm. The remaining six Mandalorians rapidly changed direction, firing behind them as they executed a fighting retreat to the turbolift door. Blaster fire rained around them, some being deflected by small personal shields or otherwise dodged. "Skarrec!" The leader called as he was the last to back onto the turbolift. Skarrec clicked a single button on her wristpad, the rapid boop boop bwweeeepp of detonators coming to life in the hangar suddenly cut off by the closing door. As the turbolift began to descend, it was shaken by a series of blasts from above, the detonators successfully destroying their targets. As quickly as they had appeared, the Mandalorians had vanished into the howling desert wind.
Hours had passed, the sun now high over the Mandalorian desert. The winds had picked up a heavy haze, making it difficult to see the ground immediately below the catwalk or the entry port down the perimeter. The veteran trooper was scanning the horizon with a pair of macrobinoculars, looking for any heat signatures amongst the gusts of wind and sand. The younger trooper was sat on the catwalk, back against the stack of crates, falling asleep as his head bobbed occasionally. The veteran scanned left to right, seeing no heat signatures placed the macrobinoculars back in its container on his belt. He gripped his rifle tightly as the wind buffeted the catwalk, glancing down to check the chronometer on his wristpad. Another hour to go before the shift was over. He looked over at the younger trooper, who was now snoring loudly in the seated position, head hung low. The veteran walked over to the sleeping trooper, boots clanging on the grated catwalk. He kicked the troopers side lightly, "Hey, wake up." The young trooper's head shot up, before he jumped to his feet and the position of attention. "Relax, cadet." the veteran quipped, moving back to his position. "Hey, I'm a Trooper, not a Cadet!" "Could have fooled me." The trooper relaxed a little, reaching his left hand up and into his helmet to scratch his face. "Why are we out here again?" "For the last time, because Caste-- " The trooper turned to berate the young trooper once more, before hearing the distinct sound of a jetpack firing behind him. Immediately he turned around, raising his blaster and firing at the black and red armored form of an assaulting Mandalorian. He only managed to get two shots off before both feet of the Mandalorian impacted his chest, the jet powered attack sending him flying over the guard rail and down into the windy abyss below. The Mandalorian landed on his feet, facing the surprised young trooper who stumbled backwards. "He-Hey! Stop right there!" he yelled, raising his rifle. The Mandalorian shot his left arm out, a grappling hook wrapping around the rifle and ripping it from his hands. The trooper looked around frantically, spotting the open crate to his left full of shock batons. He quickly grabbed one, flicking it downward and turning it on with a crackle as he readied himself to fight. "Come on! Come get me!" the trooper yelled, opening his arms to taunt the Mandalorian. The Mandalorian instantly exploited the gap, firing a wrist blaster into the troopers chest. The trooper crumbled to the ground, shock baton clattering away and rolling off the edge of the catwalk. The Mandalorian swept the catwalk, checking for hostiles before calling over the helmet comm, "Catwalk is secure." In the distance the sound of several jetpacks firing pierced the howling wind, as six more Mandalorians clad in variously colored armor landed behind the first. The first Mandalorian removed his helmet, revealing a scarred face framed by short cropped salt and pepper hair that didn't match his otherwise youthful appearance. He held his helmet under his arm as he rummaged through the belt of the young trooper, producing a single code cylinder. He tossed it backwards to the Mandalorian behind him, who moved and shoved it into the port by the maintenance door. It open with an unheard whoosh, the team of fighters swiftly moving into the maintenance corridor. Before closing the door, the first Mandalorian rolled the young trooper off the catwalk, dropping his body to the abyss below. The team moved as one down the maintenance corridor, framed by power conduits and pipelines, lit only by the red glowing lights from below the grated floor. They shuffled onto the single turbolift, cramming in as it rose into the shaft above. "Skarrec, did you remember the charges?" the first Mandalorian asked a golden armored female behind him. In response she removed her pack, opening the flap to reveal a plethora of thermal detonators. The group all quickly took several each, hooking them to their belts or in pockets. "Remember, hard and fast. We can't give them time to react." The group stood silently as the turbolift rose, the white side lighting flashing as they passed. As the turbolift began to slow, the first Mandalorian donned his helmet, and drew two blaster pistols from holsters on either leg. The turbolift came to a stop before a wide doorway with a soft whoop and a hiss as the door unlocked. The door split apart, opening to a wide hangar bay full of TIE fighters, troopers, and a single Zeta-class shuttle being unloaded at its center. The Mandalorians activated their jetpacks, jumping into action and flying into the open hangar, blasters firing with the ruthless accuracy of trained warriors. The troopers, slow to react, watched helplessly as the first few troopers were cut down before dropping the crates they carried and drawing their rifles. The Mandalorians scattered in all directions, sowing chaos on the hangar bay as the blaster bolts flew in all directions. One by one the Mandalorians landed on TIE fighters, slapping down and arming a detonator before jumping back into the air. Troopers ran for cover to dodge the hailstorm of blaster fire, some falling to friendly fire as they missed the nimble warriors. A group of the troopers found cover behind a stack of crates, managing to down a single Mandalorian before an accurate missile detonated amongst them. The deafening alarm of the hangar came to life, wailing through the open space. "Time to go!" the lead Mandalorian called on the helmet comm. The remaining six Mandalorians rapidly changed direction, firing behind them as they executed a fighting retreat to the turbolift door. Blaster fire rained around them, some being deflected by small personal shields or otherwise dodged. "Skarrec!" The leader called as he was the last to back onto the turbolift. Skarrec clicked a single button on her wristpad, the rapid boop boop bwweeeepp of detonators coming to life in the hangar suddenly cut off by the closing door. As the turbolift began to descend, it was shaken by a series of blasts from above, the detonators successfully destroying their targets. As quickly as they had appeared, the Mandalorians had vanished into the howling desert wind.
