Chapter Text
Scarlet bolts flashed above, flaring on crystalline outcrops that surrounded modular buildings. The return fire was immediate, dark-blue plasma firing in a line of tracers from atop a high-rise in volleys. White armor glistened underneath the distant sun of the planet of Christophsis as the Galactic Republic met the Confederacy of Independent Systems in bloody, close quarters battle.
Clone troopers of the 212th Attack Battalion, clad in their familiar orange-striped Phase One armors and wielding the Republic's two mainstay handheld infantry blasters, the DC-15A Blaster Carbines and Heavy Rifles, met an oncoming battalion of Droids on this flank. The 212th's Clones were some of the most proficient troops, trained to resist the harsh realities of war with stoicism and stiff upper lips, courtesy of their general. They, like many of their brothers, had survived the Crucible of Geonosis, the first and hardest-fought battle, where the Jedi and they were first tested in the true meaning of Warfare.
Clone Trooper Waxer was, however, a rather fresh, new deployment. He took cover as scarlet bolts of superheated ionized gas struck the ceiling above him, sparks raining down onto his helmet. He was 212th. He was new, of course. Fresh out of the pod, a 'Shiny' as some had called him early on. Didn't really matter to him, honestly. He was still here to blast clankers and keep his brothers safe.
He shifted his fire toward the platoon of desert sand-colored B1 Battle Droids that had opened up on him. The B1s were ugly, lanky bastards. Barely capable of movement, much less sentient thought, they were the CIS's main battle line. Cheap, easy to manufacture, but dumb as bags of bricks, they were dangerous enough in numbers if the simulations showed anything to him. Their bird-like heads craned up, two black, struck-through visual sensors peering at him with malcontent as he fired back at them, nailing a couple.
He rolled over onto his back and called out, "Boil! Thermal det!" to which his pod-brother threw him the rotund, small grenade. The Clone looked at the grenade and found its priming button. Thumbing the red mark, he heard the grenade start to beep, increasing in cadence, as did the flashing lights on the exposed midsection. He counted two seconds and, on the third, he long-armed it toward the Droids.
The explosion thundered as the thermal detonator went off on impact. Shrapnel and the thermal blast managed to knock the air out of Waxer's lungs even at this distance. Half the platoon of droids had been decimated for sticking too close together. The other half reeled as their audio-visual sensors seemingly needed to reboot from the shockwave. Waxer took this as his chance, standing up and shouldering his DC-15A Heavy Blaster Rifle before thumbing a switch and squeezing. The blaster went off at fully automatic with a high rate of fire. His brothers joined from around him, half-a-dozen clones laying Hell down with blasters.
High enough to rapidly overheat the gun, it seemed. Heat sinks along its thicker barrel opened, forcing Waxer to take cover and vent it. The steam exited at ten, two, four and seven o'clock along the barrel's circular frame, coolant flowing into the weapon's maw to ease the heat in the coils. He swore to himself, however, as a smart rocket lanced forward and detonated against the thick glass he'd taken cover behind.
"Kriffing bastards brought Supers!" A clone called out, shifting his fire toward the new arrivals.
Two platoons, about forty Super Battle Droids, or BD-2s, lumbered forward toward them. These units were far more imposing. Black and grey bodies with reinforced armor plating all over the important upper body areas. Plating that had just deflected a blaster bolt from a rifle in front of him. Waxer swore to himself and ducked under a barrage of bolts as the machines extended their arms forward and opened up.
"They're gonna get inside!" Boil called out, grabbing his blaster carbine and shifting his aim toward the elevator as the other clones began to pull back deeper into the buildings. The crossing point was on the floor they were on, meaning a sky-bridge between the two buildings. It was lined with barricades meant to protect the Clones as they crossed to and fro to reinforce each-other.
Waxer swore to himself and grabbed Boil by the scruff of his neck, stating, "We gotta get to the others!" even though the auditory sensors in his helmet could pick up a strange whirr, muffled by the glass windows around them. Blaster fire raked the barricades on the sky-bridge as the Clones dashed between them, returning fire sporadically. They noted an entire new Company of B1s advancing toward them and Waxer swore, "Kriffing hell!" as they, too, aimed their blaster weapons at the besieged dozen of clones in the area.
The clones were boxed in for all intents and purposes. That other Company of droids would breach the other building and clean'em all out with the SBDs by sheer number alone. The clones took position in the aforementioned other building now, aiming their weaponry as the elevator ahead let out a ding, followed by the first of the SBDs marching toward them, arm-blasters spitting out plasma.
"They're gonna kriffing kill us..." Boil said as he opened up on the Droids, too, before being forced to take cover behind a wall. The B1s also drew close enough for them to follow their blasters in volleys, meaning things were about to get extremely hot. The Clone swore to himself, then said, "Can't believe we're stuck in this dwang without any backup!"
"We tried calling the General and the Commander! They aren't answering! Must be busy nearby the artillery battery!" Another Clone called out, before his head was taken clean off by a bolt from an SBD.
"Oh, Force!" Another trooper ducked behind cover as a flurry of shots hit the elevator door behind him. He shot the controls by mistake, shutting off the lift. With a groan, he said, "And that's our escape cut...! Blast it..."
"Relax, Kel! We got this!" Waxer reassured him, then ducked under a burst of plasma fire. He poked out and fired his rifle in reply, then ducked back as two rounds singed the floor ahead of him. Beside him, Boil poked and fired his carbine in bursts, forced to hide as well. The Trooper then ducked beside his brother and checked the counter on his clip, shaking his head.
"Do we have this, Wax?" Boil asked him in a whisper.
"Kriffed if I know, but we'll go down swinging..." His pod brother replied. As the whirring from above got louder, Waxer complained, "We're surrounded, we got droids shooting at us and there's an entire new battalion heading toward us! SO, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT NOISE-!?" and he cut himself off as the bridge ahead exploded in shards of glass and steel, one of the Supers caught beneath it.
The bridge had been torn in half at the midsection, loose metal piping and reinforcements hanging, wires sparking. Both the Clones and the Droids seemed so dumbfound, they'd actually stopped shooting at one-another for a moment. Waxer looked outside as more thundering crashes and thumps echoed and paused as he saw them in the thin veneer of the smoke and debris they kicked up.
Ovoid pods, made of black metal...
The trooper blanked for a moment, lowering his weapon. A dozen pods had fallen within meters of each-other, close enough for whatever was inside to be able to aid each-other, but far away as to not obstruct the large, front-mounted armored doors the Troopers now saw. Doors that popped open as if launched by an explosion. Silhouettes appeared from the pods and the first audible crack of weapons fire filtered in.
Waxer turned to the droids, noting that they were distracted, before raising his blaster rifle and calling out, "Now's our chance, Brothers! OPEN FIRE!" as he squeezed the trigger. His brothers, those who survived the onslaught, stood to their feet and lit up the Droids in the other half of the skybridge ahead of them. The roar of gunfire echoed outside as unknown force that had dropped in lit the Droid Company marching toward them right the kriff up.
They'd thinned the droids' numbers out considerably, honestly. More Pods wailed as they fell into the battlefield around them. Boil called out, "We oughta pull back! We don't know who the hell just dropped in, they might be hostile to us as well!" before watching as the smoke cleared. The platoon-sized element of soldiers gathered up near the drop site of the pods, most of them wearing black, fully-enclosed armors.
Their leader seemingly ordered them toward the building the clones were in, all while their heavy support element fired heavy weapons at the Droids. Two missiles lanced out from a double-tube launcher. Another shouldered an even heavier weapon. A beam of scarlet energy lanced out toward the Droids. The trooper swept it to the right and it cut a dozen droids in half in one strike.
"Force damn..." Whispered Waxer, "Those are some heavy weapons..."
"They're coming up to us," Boil said uneasily, readying his blaster. They heard the thundering footsteps and prepared to aim their weapons. Waxer, however ,decided to play it smart for once in his life. He pushed Boil's, Kel's and the other's blasters down, before lowering his own. Boil spoke, "Waxer, you sure, brother? This could get us killed if we aren't ready..."
Waxer shrugged, "Worth a shot... We're dead anyway, if they swing the big guns over..."
"True..." Sighed Boil, "Kriff it, alright."
"This is gonna suck," Kel commented as he lowered his blaster to his side, but kept the safety off. The thundering footsteps became louder as the first trooper appeared up the stairs. A strange, fairly smooth rifle lay in his hand as he began to walk up the stairs. He saw that the Clones had their guns down first, then pulled his hand off the weapon's forward grip and lifted it back, balling it into a fist.
"Oh, hell, Gunny..." Groaned a guy behind him, "Friendlies...?"
"Well, they haven't shot at us yet, Romeo..." The leading soldier replied with snark in his tone, leaning his rifle against his shoulder. Thank the Maker these guys spoke basic. He looked to them all and asked them, "You folks friendlies...?" As he and his team filtered in up-stairs. Waxer looked to his team-mates, then to the man in charge, whose name was probably written via weird letters on the small plate above the breastplate of his armor.
Waxer breathed in, then out, and nodded, "We are... Thanks for the rescue."
"Don't mention it," The soldier replied. He paused, blinked and listened in on something coming in on his com frequency, then looked to the soldiers and cleared his throat. He then spoke, straightforward, "I'm Gunnery Sergeant Edward Buck, with Alpha Niner. We got shot at by an enemy picket up above and our fleet decided to deploy us here. We're... I guess... Your First Contact ambassadors."
All the remaining clones quickly exchanged some looks, before Kel said, "Honestly, good first impression..."
"Saved our behinds from being overwhelmed," Waxer stated, paused and blanked, then worriedly asked, "Wait a minute. The Republic Navy had this place blockaded and was hunting for the last chunks of the CIS Ships defending Cristophsis while we're busting our behinds down here by trying to root their troops out... What fleet do you guys come from?"
"Long story," Buck told them, "We'd rather keep it for your bosses..."
The Sniper behind him, one with a more distinct piece of armor, leaned over to another Trooper clad in a similar outfit as buck and whispered, "Why the hell do they all sound the fucking same...?" to which said Trooper simply shrugged. It was confusing to him and his teammates behind him, as well.
"You guys at least ping our fleet to let'em know you're here?" Inquired Boil, "Because I don't think admiral Yularen is gonna be happy to see some new ships floating about..."
"I think our commanders are working on that as we speak..." Buck nodded, then told them, "We oughta go meet your bosses before any further deployments are made. Pretty sure command's about to hot-drop a tank platoon down, though. And we'd like for there not to be any 'friendly' fire incidents..." and shifted his gaze. Waxer nodded, then tapped his com and listened in.
"Commander Cody, sir..." The Trooper began, "Do you copy?"
Static first played over his helmet's speakers, but then the voice began to clear out, resolving into the same voice as the Troopers, "... Hear you, Trooper. Status on the Eastern Flank?"
"Held, sir, barely. Intersection should be secure. We're down to half-a-dozen Troopers, but uh..." Waxer looked up to the soldiers around them and hesitantly, "We got saved by some unknowns. They're asking to talk to you, Generals Kenobi and Skywalker and Captain Rex, sir..." before waiting for a response. He looked to the soldiers and motioned to them, stating, "You folks might want to set it to the right frequency... Your coms, I mean."
"We're trying," Another of Buck's Troopers called out from behind the one on the stairs, "Not exactly easy matching freqs with whatever you folks use as coms..."
"I just spoke with the Generals. Bring them over as fast as possible. We're sending Fifth Platoon to take your places over there," The Commander replied, stern as always. The Trooper gave an affirmative, shut off the com and looked at the Troopers ahead of them. With a nod, Buck and his troops stepped aside and the Clones warily readied their weapons.
Before long, Waxer and Boil were leading the survivors of their unit toward the distant sound of combat, alongside the rest of the allied unit. Above them, the wail of engines filled the air. Above them, dozens of small-craft flew in through the thin layer of clouds and Buck called out, "Would you look at that! I think the Navy finally got through to these guys' Fleet!"
"Can confirm!" The other Trooper with the com backpack beside Buck said, "Admiral Lasky just gave us the go-ahead to help these folks! They're working on getting a direct link to the rest of the Republic so we can talk to their leadership and get some fucking context about what's going on!" as he hefted the laser weapon they saw him use to wipe out half a Droid Company.
"Man, this is weird..." Waxer commented as they ran.
Boil snorted, "Tell me about it..."
The Clones passed by a squadron of Speeders that were headed to take their positions with heavier weaponry attached to their vehicles, including a bunch of heavy-duty E-Web Twelves with their tripods and power sources. It only took them a few more minutes of full-sprint before they reached their intended target area:The Republic's FOB. Heavy duty, four-legged artillery cannons stood at the rear, pelting the CIS's lines with boulders of arching plasma.
A hint of PTSD flashed in Buck's mind as they ran, but he squelched it quickly. Those things looked too quote-unquote 'practical' to be Covvie guns. No, they were most definitely made by the locals. He craned his neck, looking up at the dozens of Pelican drop-ships as they swung in toward them. He had activated his IR Beacon to make sure they could track him and his team as they went in for the meeting.
The group began to slow down, several of the panting as they did. Ahead of them, Clones carried the wounded from the battle on this section of highway over to a medical and casualty triage zone, while two men approached, both wearing armor over their shoulders and arms. One wore a darker shade of clothes and looked younger, a blue-eyed, brown-haired fellow. Beside him, an older gentleman with a cream-colored robe and white armor adorning his shoulders stood. Also blue-eyed, but with ginger hair and one hell of a beard.
The two men approached, both seemingly battered by the enemy's assault, before one of them said, "I suppose these are the newcomers you mentioned in your communications, trooper," as he looked to Waxer. The older man. Waxer nodded and gave a quick salute, as did the others, before the man turned to the new troops and approached them. He spoke, "Admiral Yularen mentioned he received a connection from your fleet up above. I believe you're called the UNSC."
"That's us... You must be one of the local Generals, sir?" Buck asked, shifting his rifle onto his back. A quiet wub echoed as the metallic object clicked into place on a magnetic field generator of some kind. The man nodded, scrutinizing the black-clad drop-troopers. Beside him, the other General seemed happy to see some friendly faces here. The Clones remained unsure of what to think.
"I am," The man nodded, "General Obi-Wan Kenobi, of the Grand Army of the Republic... You are?"
"Gunnery Sergeant Edward Buck, sir," The man replied, "United Nations Space Command, Orbital Drop Shock Troopers."
"We've never heard of your faction or unit before, Gunnery Sergeant," General Kenobi placed a certain modicum of respect in the way he spoke his words and Buck felt it. He probably spoke with consideration to the fact their Fleet was also here. Kenobi also added, "Though Admiral Yularen was quick to tell us of your fleet's presence. Him and Admiral Lasky should have a meeting soon to discuss the status of your force's presence here."
"So we've been told over radio, sir," Buck nodded calmly, "The hell d'you think they were trying to do by firing on us, sir? Your enemies, I mean?"
"They probably thought you guys were reinforcements for us," The other man spoke. He greeted, "Hi. I'm General Anakin Skywalker, also of the GAR." And he gave Buck a once-over as the middle-aged man removed his helmet, revealing brown, slicked-back hair and a square jawline the likes of which one would usually see in a boxer. Anakin gave the man a nod of approval.
"Sir," Buck nodded back, wearing a half-cocked smile. He watched as the first Pelicans swung in for landing, with Kenobi already calling up Clones to provide the new arrivals proper LZs. They watched as infantry and vehicles were dropped off, disgorging from the backs of the strange transports, rifles in hand and supplies carried on their backs. The Clones watched with muted awe as hundreds of fresh extra troops with weapons and armor the likes of which they hadn't seen before dropped off their equipment.
"... Uh, General...?" Waxer looked over to Kenobi, confused.
"Yes, Waxer?" The man turned toward him.
"... Did we sanction this, sir? Like... Them coming in with their own equipment?" He inquired, motioning to a trio of tanks that rolled toward the combat zone.
Anakin jumped in and said, "They sort of offered to help us. Y'know, 'enemy of my enemy' and all that..." before noticing the armored vehicles on treads rolling out of the landing zone. The allied transports, slightly resembling their own LAATs in doctrine, at least, took off back toward the sky after dropping off their Marines, equipment and supplies, only to be replaced by others.
Buck hummed, "A company of Marines and our entire ODST Battalion are dropping planetside, sir. They should have this glass palace secure before we're in for chow..." and he approached General Kenobi and General Skywalker. Two Clone Troopers, each with distinct armors that denoted them as officers, approached the ranks of the officer cadre as well.
"Would be nice, Sarge," Stated Anakin, then he looked over and said, "Ah, Rex, Cody. Just in time."
"Sir," The two men nodded. Rex was the first to speak, "I take it we're looking at reinforcements from those people the admiral mentioned were in orbit...?" as he saw a squadron of Marines jump out of a Pelican, clad in full camouflage uniforms and armed to the teeth. Rex wasn't one to usually be wary of new allies. Hell, extra guns meant more of his brothers would survive, but the way these people just... Appeared...? Didn't sit well. A gut feeling of Rex's.
Cody seemed to share his thoughts as he examined the troops. Professional and well-equipped, the UNSC's infantry and equipment rushed to where their drop ships must've seen the Front was. The hardened faces of dozens and dozens of Marines, all so varied in features and skin tone and color and gender told the men everything they needed to know about the UNSC's premier fighting force.
"It would seem so, Captain. How are your men handling the idea of having to share a field with newcomers?" He asked the two soldiers, shifting his gaze properly toward his adjutant, Cody. An old friend and a great Commander.
"Murmurs here and there, sir," Cody replied, "Nothing to be heavily concerned about. What we're more worried about is how the talks between Admirals Yularen and Lasky will go, considering we've all just barely met."
"And the enemy of my enemy only takes us so far," Buck murmured, shifting his helmet onto his belt and clipping it there, before crossing his arms to his chest as the two Jedi and the Clone Officers looked to him. He shrugged and said, "Look, I don't know how our leadership's viewing this entire clusterfuck, but I know for a fact the tin cans we just wiped out back there," and he jabbed a thumb back the way they, Waxer and the other clones had come from, "Shot us first. You Reps haven't. Yet."
"And knowing our luck, we hopefully won't," Anakin quipped. He turned to Rex and said, "Make sure we all play nice."
"Already working on it, sir. Helps that they speak Basic, too," The Captain replied half-jokingly. That got a laugh out of Anakin and a few of the other Clone Troopers around, while Buck arched a brow at the comment. There was still Tension in the air, but everyone felt it slowly lessening. The distrust, of course, existed still, specifically because the UNSC had arrived so suddenly and so out-of-nowhere to help them.
"Good to know," Obi-Wan joined in, then looked to Buck, "Gunnery Sergeant, if you'll follow us to our command center, we'll check in with the Admirals, perhaps give our two Credits on the matter at hand and hopefully help forge a little alliance..." words to which the Sergeant nodded and shifted his helmet. He turned to his men and gave them a series of hand signals, then watched the entire Platoon scatter, sans only two. The Sniper and the other one wearing similar armor to Buck's.
Cody and Rex were left to watch as the last UNSC dropships touched down, deploying another platoon of Tanks and two Platoons of Marines, all armed and armored down to the bone. Rex spoke warily, "I think we've just gone in way over our heads, Cody..." as he watched the troopers run, boots thundering, toward their positions. Cody hummed in agreement as he watched the Generals, Buck and his escort walk off.
This was gonna be a very interesting evening...