RPlog:Landing on Cochran

With the Griffon Fleet in a vise by Kreldin's fleet maneuver, it appeared that they were done for, and thus Grand Admiral Kreldin began ordering the deployment of the Imperial dropships, hauling the Imperial stormtroopers, Army troopers and CompForce Assault troopers. They all knew what they had to do: take down the shield generators. They didn't actually know the exact reasons behind the operation; at least not that High Command wanted to slag the planet. Veterans of Hoth were more than ready, though, but the more recent soldiers were a little more than nervous. The Griffon SATs had quite the reputation, especially what with their enhanced armor and other equipment. But one stormtrooper of the elite 501st Legion - "Vader's Fist" - was confident he and his squad would get the job done. Sergeant Tanis Cadell, former 988th specialist and current squad leader in Third Platoon. He stood at the front of one of the dropships as it accelerated towards their LZ, his ST-II resting on his shoulder. Flak from the ground-based emplacements exploded near the dropship, and the destruction of a nearby dropship is heard throughout the ship, sending shivers up the spines of even some of the battle hardened troops. But they were Vader's Fist - they would not cower, even to the Griffons. They would get their job done.

Dozens of dropships of the first wave, escorted by TIE Interceptors, head towards their various LZ points. Y-85 Titan dropships were also found amongst some of the MT/191 dropships, hauling AT-STs that would supplement the stormtroopers and CompForce troopers in the initial assault. Securing the starports was their first priority. "Three minutes!" shouts Cadell, looking back to his squad members. "Last minute weapon and gear check. Remember, when they get down there, scatter and find the nearest cover. Keep suppressing fire up until all troopers are on the ground."

ST-1337 had buffed his armor to a brilliant sheen before this battle. It was an old tradition that carried over from the regimented training he'd been brought up under. He brings his own ST-II up to his shoulder and rests it, the rifle still on safety to prevent an accidental discharge. All of the troopers seemed to be forced into the low crouch, one arm braced against the railing along the dropship's walls, for stability as the battle raged outside. Yes, some would definitely feel the shrill spike of fear of the impending battle, but ST-1337 tried to repress such feelings as he rechecked his gear in an attempt to distance himself from it, at least for a few moments more.

Although a month ago Sandor would have been part of this operation, much has changed for the young man. No longer is he a member of the Empire's finest, which is the IGF of course, and not the Stormtrooper corps, and instead he's been processed through the less than rigorous loyalty assessments conducted by the New Republic. But then, he never did realize that there had been more than just a simple set of questions probing his intentions; something he would have learned the hard way had he not been honest with his intentions.

Nevertheless, 2nd Combat Officer Sandor Woden has found himself commited to the fray already, on an assignment he doesn't fully understand, in a group that has every reason not to trust him just yet. And that is where the man's soldier instinct takes over, leaving him the cold, efficient killer that had enabled him to rise through the ranks of the Imperial Army so well. If only he had his beloved sniper rifle, which like his impressive display of medals, had been left behind for the Empire to confiscate.

ST-2034 is ready in the dropship, though he checks the powercells again, the energy focussing and compressing sections on his weapon, again. He checks the joints of his armor, he checks evey detail he can in those final three minutes, the ritual in it's own way, preparing his mind even further for battle. And as the ship gets ever closer to touching down, it gets ever harder to keep the feelings in check. The natural feelings to flee the explosion, but this checking, this ritual makes it easy to detach oneself. And the feelings don't seem real, at least, not for now. Those first few seconds after your feet touched the floor... they were often the most terrifying and the most vital.

Jumping quickly down the ramp of Candor's Redress, Kintor eyes the seemingly thousands of dropships coming down from above. The man seems clad head to toe in weaponry and armor. His fighting spirit is obvious, and his look of a formidable fighter is augmented by a large canine clipping down the ramp to Kintor's side. For a moment he stands next to Sandor, watching the sky above Cochran, a small smile forming at the sides of his mouth. Giving a sidelong glance at the seasoned soldier beside him, he pulls an ST-II from it's awkard position over his shoulder. "You were a sniper, eh? Yeh can borrow this, then; but make sure I get it back after yer done killin' the masses." He gives a wink and a smile, and takes another weapon from it's hanging position around his other shoulder. He hefts the E-11 rifle and looks back up the ramp. Several more fighters exit behind the two, then presses a button on his headset comlink. "Alrigh', Cass. Everyone's out. Close the ramp and stay inside. If there's any sign of someone tryin' to kill yeh, give a little shout." Turning back, Kintor scans his surroundings, then looks back to Sandor. "So, you're the one with experience soldierin' an' all. Where d'yeh think we should go?"

Lingons was to be the target of the bulk of the 501's attack. The exact number of defenders at Lingons starport was unknown, but before the troops land, Imperial TIE Interceptors fly strafing runs, their laser cannons spewing green bolts of energy at enemy troop emplacements and anything else that looks like a viable target. And then, behind the fighters, come the dropships, ship-board laser cannons firing near their drop points and E-web repeaters, poking through holes on both sides of dropships, begin opening fire, providing suppressing fire for the stormtroopers. Tanis's heart is beating fast. He was the first one from his dropship to be hitting the ground. The first guy usually didn't make it. But Tanis refused to throw himself in the back. He was the squad leader, and he was going in first. Their squad was the point squad. Throwing a thumbs up to the men behind him, admist the sound of E-web fire and explosions, his helmet hides his nervous expression and the sweat dripping from his forehead. He felt like he was about to die. But if he did die, he knew he would be dying for the right cause. He turns his eyes to look up at the light, which was still red, and then thirty seconds later, it switched to green and the dropship doors slid open, revealing the battle zone that was now Lingons starport. He threw himself out of the dropship, his ST-II opening up at any direction, as his eyes quickly look around for the nearest cover spot. The rest of his squad would follow him there, with other squads finding other suitable cover spots.

With a tap on the back of the helmet, and the realization of the green "Go" light above the doorway, ST-1337 nearly rolls out of the back of the dropship after Tanis, after all, he would follow his leader into anything. His vision tracks up and along the farthest wall from his position as he moved forward in a blur that could only be described as half-run and half-crawl, since in the heat of battle he wasn't really thinking about how he was moving, he was just moving. His rifle spews forth a volley of fire towards the target he picks out as he keeps moving, aim locked as best he can inbetween heavy breaths and thuds of each boot on the ground.

Needless to say, Sandor is a little surprised to be handed a ST-II rifle, nominally a close-quarters weapon that is utilized by the Empire extensively in MOUT-related situation, so soon after his old MOS is mentioned allowed. Nodding his head in appreciation, however, he takes the weapon and slings it around his own shoulder, carrying it at the ready but pointing it towards the ground for the time being. A quick visual scan is all the man needs to find his position, however, having carefully studied the maps of the region in which the Marines would be operating, and marked a few urban landmarks for reference.

But Sandor never has an opportunity to make small talk with Kintor, as the Imperial assault commences with a fury reminescent of Yaartsek to the young man. "Get down!", the man shouts even as the dropships begin to touch down, reaching for a flashbang only to come up empty. Not stopping to think about how useless they would be on Stormtroopers in any case, Sandor goes prone and takes aim, trying to find some action amongst the soldiers that would distinguish an NCO or an Officer. With only the ST-II, however, Sandor would probably have better luck following the example of his newfound comrades, who lay down covering fire in two shot bursts at the nearest targets.

In the immediate vicinity around the drop zone, scattered elements of a now-understrength Marine company repeat this action in a barely-controlled chaos, with another company of regular infantry gathering a few blocks away to plan and coordinate a counter-attack. With everything still in the preliminary stages, however, Sandor, Kintor, and the others appear to be on their own for the time being.

ST-2034 watches his leader in these dieing seconds, and he switches his gaze to the light. Red... red... Red... Green. The doors open and the sounds of battle come in a hundred times worse, not muffled by the ship and for a split second, terror grips this hardened warrior. But the panic passes, and is replaced, by the time it is his turn to leave the dropship, with determination. His feet are off the hard metal and onto the hard ground in very little time, but to this storm trooper he could have been falling for a minute. The impact through his legs, absorbed as he bends his knees and runs in a strafe behind the rest of his squad, opening fire with a solid spray into the enemy ranks, as he goes for the same cover as the rest of his squad, covering the last of the distance by diving, and only stopping his firing when he gets there. He sits up, pushing his back into the cover, and awaiting instructions, and letting his gun cool.

As the sky suddenly seems to fill with diving soldiers, Kintor gives a deep sigh. Despite the anti-aircraft guns doing their best to shoot down dropships, this truely seems the calm before the storm. Hundreds of small dark figures appear from the opening bellies of the dropships in an eerie silence. Kintor holds his gun slightly tighter as he looks at the sky, and then all at once, as if from nowhere, the air is littered with blasterfire. The strafing TIEs do their jobs considerably well, wiping out several of the soldiers that came with the Redress. Taking no time to address his error with gun given to Sandor, Kintor dives forward onto his belly, simultaneously opening fire on the falling Stormtroopers. Despite a small feeling of panic awakening in his stomach, the Near-Human gives a small smile. It is times like this that give life the excitement that he loves, and he embraces it with gusto. Taking aim at one of the nearest Stormtroopers, Kintor pulls the trigger, doing his best with a type of weapon that is far from his specialty.

The TIE Interceptors do their best to divert the attention of the starport's turrets away from the dropships, still hovering over the area to deploy all their troops. None of the dropships would dare fly away before its entire complement of troops were fully unloaded. Personally, Tanis was expecting heavier resistance.. in fact, save the dropships that were destroyed in mid-flight by anti-aircraft batteries, nearly all stormtroopers, with the exception of a few unlucky men hit by stray blaster fire, had so far safely deployed and found themselves cover throughout the entire starport. Apparently their suppressing fire had been enough to keep the rebels away.. or perhaps they were just simply keeping their main force in reserve. Well, Tanis was no officer, and his mind was not a tactical one; he simply followed his orders to the best of his abilities, and impervised along the way. But so far, as far as he was concerned.. Lingons was the Empire's. As Tanis runs from the dropship, his squad members close behind, a blaster bolt, seemingly with his name on it, comes straight at him. Whether it be instincts, pure lucky, or the Force, or all three, Tanis dives to the ground and avoids the shot by a few inches. That was a bit too close for comfort... "Alright, on me!" he shouts to his squad members nearby, including 1337 and 2034, keeping himself crouched behind a pile of rubble. "I want to take out those quad turrets over there," he says, pointing to the direction of the turrets that were proving to be quite the nuisance to the TIE Interceptors and dropships. "More dropships are gonna come in after us, so in order to make sure they have a smooth landing, they have to go." He double-checks his power back and nods sagely. "Don't be afraid to use your grenades and keep your head down. You guys ready?"

The Titan dropships were still in bound to Lingons, still hauling the Imperial walkers that would assist in the campaign. But the general in charge of the operation decided to hold off on deploying them to Lingons just yet, due to the surprising lack of defense found at the starport. They would wait for deployment until the main rebel forces were met. The Imperials were surprised; they figured the main body of resistance would be at the starport, where the Imperials were at their weakest. But the Empire couldn't be happier; they could now consolidate all their forces at the starport and prepare for a major break through, rather than worry about intense fighting at the beach head, which usually ended in heavy casualties for the attacking side.

Several steps behind Tanis, when the blast bolt rips through their local region of reality, ST-1337 makes a bit of a dive after Tanis and ST-2034 towards the cover. He slides a bit, beautifully-buffed armor definitely picking up scratches and dirt and he does, and hits the bit of rubble with force. Still, the blood is pounding in his ears and the seals on the armor help to hide the fact that his breath has quickened and deepened, lungs drawing in large quantities of the filtered air the suit provided. His faceless void white-and-black helmet nods an affirmative to Tanis as the order is given, reaching down and procuring a gas grenade from his utility belt, then holding it out with a straight arm, ready to throw. He glances over to ST-2034, to make sure the other is ready, and then the helmet cocks to see the advancing squads from other dropships. It was assumed from this action that ST-1337 would throw the grenade so that Tanis and ST-2034 could make their attack on the turret in apparent cover and that ST-1337 would lead up the rear. "Ready, sir!" he shouts over the helmet's commsystem to Tanis.

In the chaos that has erupted, Sandor has only a narrow focus on the battlefield, yet even he can see that all is not well for the Marines on the surface. If the situation weren't life or death, he might even wonder if the men and women around him are a good match for his abilities, but as it is, he's fortunate enough to not be cut down. Some aren't nearly so lucky, however, and from the opening shots of the ST assault, several men and women have already lost their lives, the latter being incinerated by a lucky shot in the strafing run by Imperial CAS elements.

For the moment, however, 2nd Combat Officer Woden is relatively unscathed, yet making little progress in his effort to determine just who is an NCO or even an Officer. Little does he realize that he's not only facing a unit that he'd trained with on Selene, but in fact one of his own former team members from the last batch of trainees that had nearly made it into the 988th, but were transferred into a variety of different commands after the ISB pulled the plug.

Perhaps guided by fate, or otherwise bad and good luck at once, Sandor's rifle trains itself upon Tanis, and tracks him to the cover he now sits behind. Breathing in and out in the controlled fashion of a sniper, the man gives it a few seconds before pulling the trigger. 'I can do this. We can do this.' With that silent assertion, the man prepares to squeeze down upon the trigger, knowing that this shot will count more than nearly any in his career. With one shot, everything will reset itself, and give Sandor the chance that he desires so much to make things right in the galaxy for those he cares about. All it will take is a few more moments for the target to emerge once more.

Meanwhile, the SATs have begun to gather alongside the Army company, and oblivious to calls for help coming over a comlink, they continue to plan their response in a slow and painstaking fashion. The SATs are a little more eager to enter the fray, however, and some quickly break away from the group into a full run to provide individual support for pinned-down NR Marines and militia assets around the spaceport proper. "Hooligans!", one junior officer shouts at the display, earning several nods of approval from other officers, and a unanimous scowl from the enlisted corps.

2034 is receptive to his immediate superior's commands, and he looks at the turrets that were being mentioned, and then looks back at Tanis. "Understood" he says, his voice just touched by an accent that was less common than it was, but still common enough among the Storm troopers. And then he finally glances at the other, 1337, and nods in understanding at him. "Ready!" he reports back, and he move shimself into a crouch, rather than sitting or kneeling, so that he is able to run when needed.

A small grimace appears on Kintor's face as his shots go harmlessly by the first man fired upon, but he soon shrugs it off. After several more shots emit from his blaster miss their intented targets, Kintor tosses the gun down, with an almost snarling expression on his face. Instead he reaches behind to unsheath the sleek vibroaxe resting in it's straps on the man's back. He gives a small grin to Sandor and then looks out at the oncoming STs as well as the outgoing SATs. "Now, this is more m' style. Get up in their faces and get nasty. He ponders charging forward along with the several SATs, but decides against it as he notices several of them falling to enemy gunfire. Kintor watches the movement of the Stormtroopers intently, and notices their advance towards the turret guns. Giving a small tap to Sandor's shoulders, he points to the turret guns, and gestures for the two of them to move to help defend. He crouches low as he waits for a response.

"This is Tibor Stasio, your eyes in the sky," says one of the TIE pilots flying over the area, flak rocking his interceptor, but his was a newer model, equipped with shield generators. "I see a bunch of Griffon SATs charging on the starport. Expect them in just three minutes. Over and out."

Tanis hears the words over his built-in comlink. SATs were advancing on their position. The bloody jetpack hopping Griffon Space Assault Troopers. Grimacing under his white helmet, Tanis nods to his boys and steps out from behind the rubble. "Now, now! Grenades away! Covering fire!" Gas grenades are hurled and detonated, providing a smoke screen for Tanis and the squad to achieve cover behind as they advance on the turrets. Tanis charges as fast as he can with the equipment he was carrying, firing off blind shots with his ST-II as he makes his way towards the target. He had his frag grenades attached to his belt, and prepares to take one in his hand. It was either that, or hopefully someone in his squad had some explosives.

Lobbing a grenade overhead and ahead of them, ST-1337 waits for the rest of the squad to move forward before following, in a half-crouch with cover fire bursting forth from his ST-II. As the troopers move forward, a stray blaster bolt nearly catches ST-1337, striking only a meter away and throwing up a shower of rubble. Great, E-Webs. Luckily, 1337 slinks into the smoke cloud following the rest of the squad, with the E-Web left to blindly fire into the covering smoke.

Sandor makes no reply to Kintor at first, knowing that one slip would be enough for Tanis to emerge and the opportunity to be lost. And it seems it nearly is, as a smokescreen is deployed and the STs move on toward their next objective. Squeezing upon the trigger, Sandor lets loose a shot carrying all his hopes and dreams, which may well be crushed early if the battle swings too far against the NR's favor. After all, things aren't going as well as they could be even before the Walkers, a crucial part of established IGF doctrine, have been deployed.

With no CAS of it's own for the moment, and the SATs not yet arriving to provide support, some of the Marines have picked themselves up and moved to cover. Having fired his shot, Sandor turns his head to face Kintor, dumbstruck as the man's words finally register. "Pick up your gun, this is no place for fucking around!", the 2nd Combat Officer shouts, less an order than it is advice. Not waiting for a response, he races off towards cover while gesturing for anyone not doing so already to follow his lead.

Finally, the NR Army company comes to a consensus about a plan of action, and begins to emerge from the series of concealed positions it had arranged during the initial bombing to move in to support the Starport itself. Whether or not this will be too little too late remains to be seen, however, as the Stormtroopers have a clear foothold on the planet by this point, and casualties are mounting due to lack of basic, essential supplies such as headset comlinks, grenades, and the like. They need only hold on a bit longer, however, for the civilians to complete their evacuation.

2034 follows the queu, throwing one of his own gas grenades without paying any attention to where it was going, as long as it was going towards the enemy, and then follows close behind Tanis. He also fires into the cloud that was forming, attempting to aim for the multi-colored blobs that were probably people behind it. Though his real objective was this turret. When he gets nearer he says, "I have the Demos, Give me covering fire!" he says to those around him. He slings the weapon to a position which leaves his hands free as he prepares to do some redecorating.

His face crinkling in slight dismay at Sandor's advice, Kintor reluctantly picks up the E-11, but puts the axe in a special loop on his belt to make it easier to pull out later. As Sandor races away to find cover, Kintor follows close, and the large canine even with his owner. Diving low behind a pillar, Kintor quickly stands up and leans against it, rifle in hand, laying the axe against the pillar alongside himself. The turrets are fairly close by, and Kintor decides it is a good place to defend from, and peers around the side of the pillar. The Stormtroopers are at the turrets now, and Kintor eyes the one crouching low at the base of the turret. He signals Sandor and points, meanwhile taking aim with his own rifle. Getting down on one knee, Kintor steadies the E-11 and fires at the Stormtrooper as he exhales.

Around the rest of the starport, the dropships have more or less departed, leaving the TIE Interceptors to provide the rest of the cover. Stormtroopers were quickly setting up E-web emplacements and temporary "fortifications," if you well, such as sandbags and little fox holes for the troops to defend themselves from the oncoming onslaught: they knew the SATs and the bulk of the rebel Army were coming, and they were hastening themselves to prepare for it. They would not be pushed out of this starport. High command considers deploying the walkers and the rest of the troops, but decides upon a better, perhaps cruel, idea. But first, they would wait - wait for the rebel assault to begin. Not until the stormtroopers at the "beachhead" saw the whites of the rebel's eyes.

As for Tanis, his rush through the smoke screen towards the turret was successful, and he sets himself by SF-2034 just as a blaster shot rings out and nearly hits his fellow stormtrooper in the head. "Keep your head down and hurry it up!" he shouts, though not in a harsh way. He just didn't want his man to get his head blown off. He watches patiently as the stormtrooper sets the explosives, aiming his ST-II towards the source of the fire and shooting off several blasts.

Using the helmet-mounted HUD to make it safely through the smoke and keep tabs on his fellow squadmates, ST-1337 ends up near the turret where ST-2034 and Tanis are setting explosives, his back up against the rusted hulk of some sort of former loading vehicle, now reduced to scrap metal. ST-1337 turns, rifle poised up tight against his shoulder, and takes a firm aim at the advancing Rebel forces before firing off a round towards Kintor and Sandor.

A set of Imperial dropships remains hidden a few klicks away. Inside are around two hundred CompForce Assault troopers, COMPNOR's military division of ISB. One of the ISB agents in command is Korynn Fleming, wearing light body armor over a white jumpsuit and black helmet. He begins to instruct his platoon. "As soon as you are deployed, go to assault formation delta bravo. Pin between the mechanizezd, then shift to assault formation tango alpha at my command." His deep voice carries malice, dark eyes demanding obedience. "Kill anything that moves, do not worry about mistaking civilian for rebel!"

Popping off a shot at another ST, who may well be too 1337 to be hit by mortal men such as Sandor, 2nd Combat Officer Woden pulls out a comlink that he's fairly certain that he has, unlike the grenades he does not. "Six, this is Woden. Starport is being overwhelmed, requesting permission to withdraw." With that, Sandor breaks into an exchange with the operators on the other line, and is informed that most of the civilians have in fact evacuated already, and thereby can't possibly be emerging from their homes and mounting a coordinated effort to push back the Imperial landing.

But a notion like that doesn't enter Sandor's mind, and before long he has the confirmation needed to pull back to the advancing Army company to provide support. With a series of hand signals, the remainder of the squad is directed to move due east by cover, exchanging shots as they go. Most importantly, however, the goal is to avoid the fate of the Army company, which is even now being harassed by Imperial Air superiority. Since no scimitars are in sight, however, they're still more than capable of putting up a fight against the forces that have landed so far.

The temporary demolitions export, as it seems, manages to pull of the operation even while being harassed by enemy fire. He gives tow rod to clear and pulls out his remote detonation switch, motioning for the squad to duck back into cover as he himself flees the soon-to-be demolished Turret. Once the Squad is sufficiently clear, he hits the button and the charge explodes. His fifteen minutes of fame done, he returns to firing again.

Kintor curses to himself as his shot barely misses the crouching stormtrooper. The retaliation from the two other troopers forces him to fall back behind the pillar, watching as the blaster bolts pass by the exact spot his head had just been. A sudden explosion rocks the ground beneath, as well as violently offending Kintor's ears. He blinks and then peers around the pillar again, cursing again at the sight of now-demolished turret gun. A shower of anger washes through the near-human, heating the man's eyes into a dark orange-red. He teeters for a moment, exercising all his self control to keep himself from dropping the blaster rifle and charging forward with the axe. He takes several deep breaths and calms himself, though his eyes remaind their dark red. Pulling up the gun, Kintor finds another target, this time aiming for the only lead Stormtrooper he has yet to fire on yet. He pulls the trigger several times and pulls back behind the pillar. Noticing Sandor's gestures, he quickly slides the axe into it's position on his waist and begins to follow the other man, staying as low as possible, doing his best not to get hit by the storming troopers.

The rebel counter-strike sure was taking a while. And the Imperials now had enough time to finalize their preparations. E-webs were set up in defensive positions, sandbags in front with foxholes dug around them with stormtroopers down below, dirtying themselves as they peak out and aim their ST-I or ST-II the direction of the expected counter-attack. The whine of TIE Interceptors intensifies, especially after the destruction of the anti-aircraft turret, which eased the nerves of many of the pilots. They strafe down on the rebel soldiers advancing, their green bolts ripping explosions and generally causing mayham. And for whatever reason, they had yet to be attacked by any A-wings, Manta rays or X-wings. It was a field day for the Imperial pilots.

Tanis pats 2034 on his left shoulder as the demolitions are finally set, blaster shots shooting past them in a frenzy as the rebel sharpshooters tried to stop them. Tanis ducks for cover with the rest of his squad as the demolitions set off. A wave of heat washes over his back, but he was far enough away and protected by his armor to not get injured. "Excellent work! Keep it up," Tanis says, once again crouching on his left knee and firing off a few shots in the direction of the men who had fired upon them during the demolition.

The advancing fire from the rebels punches through ST-1337's cover, nearly slicing into the Storm Trooper armor, but instead only scorching the armor. This simple fact sends ST-1337 in a rage, after all, this was his recently-buffed-and-polished armor that was getting damaged. The turret explodes into a spectacular display of fireworks behind the squad, as Tanis comments over the comment. A simple hand gesture indicates that ST-1337 is heading off to cover to the left to spread out their fire after Tanis indicates they shouuld continue forward. While running between cover, ST-1337 is briefly exposed and manages to fire off a shot, but it seems to fly wide as one of Tanis' shots takes out one of the closest Rebel forces.

Even as he's directing his men to pull back, Sandor is stuck by a shot from one of the STs that creates a fairly nasty wound in his side, and collapses to the ground a second later. His weapon is still clutched in his arms, but consciousness is quickly fading, threatening to leave Sandor behind as most of the men serving alongside him simply don't realize that he's been hit amid the noise. All the former Imperial can cling to is the thought that, in spite of this, he may yet pull through alive.

Moving backwards and facing the advancing Stormtroopers, Kintor retreats from one point of cover to another. He takes a quick glance behind at the other defenders of the starport and sees Sandor fall. He curses loudly and begins sprinting towards the fallen man. Kintor's face is contorted into an ugly snarl as he sights the large wound in Sandor's side. He pivots quickly, eyes blazing red, his longcoat twirling around his knees in the wind as he does so. Standing above the incapacitated man, Kintor shields the body with his own, opening fire with the E-11 in hand. He moves down to one knee to make himself a smaller target and yells to two nearby marines. "You two, pull him behind cover! Now!" As they move to do so, Kintor takes proper aim at one of the STs advancing from the turret. He glares at the trooper through the sight and pulls the trigger.

Tanis Cadell watches as Sandor falls from his blaster shot. Of course he didn't know it was Sandor. But if he did.. well.. he would be a bit confused right about now. Sandor was his sergeant major only a few weeks ago. To see him on the enemy's side was just difficult for the Sergeant to comprehend. Nevertheless, he watches as Kintor gathers up Sandor - and, to Tanis's disbelief, decides to open fire on the stormtroopers, rather than run for cover with the wounded man on his back. Shaking his head, Tanis takes aim and opens fire.

Even as Sandor is being incapacitated, Captain Thabo Mbeki is leading his company ever closer to the portion of the spaceport that is being overwhelmed. Already, his group has taken something around ten percent losses due to strafing runs by Imperial close air support, but the man is silently grateful that some minor oversight has kept Scimitars from being deployed so far. "Where in the maw is our air support?", the man wonders aloud, hoping that the floating Starport on the other side of the planet is faring better.

Mbeki's group has caught up with the small SAT groups, however, and advances through limited cover to positions just beyond where the Marines are withdrawing. "Give those men some covering fire so they can regroup," the Captain informs a subordinate, who rushes to try to carry out this order only to find that NCOs have already taken the initiative, and have begun the counter-attack to try to regain the starport.

Crouching down behind his new cover as shots from Kintor dig into the ground around him, ST-1337 is making progress forward. He opens his commlink to the rest of the squad for a brief second. "Here comes their reinforcement. Where's our walkers, Sarge?" he calls over the line. Shoving another power cell into the ST-II and checking his remaining load-out: two flash-bang grenades, one frag grenade, the Stormtrooper grabs the frag from his belt and glances over his shoulder, waiting for a good corridor to throw the grenade into for maximum splash.  Tanis says, "Kintor, right?"  Kintor nods.

Glaring at the advancing troopers, Kintor continues to shoot at the same trooper as before, unwilling to give up his defense even as the other troopers begin to open fire on the lone man. As the lead man of the troopers shoots at him, Kintor makes no effort to move out of the way. Risking the life of the man behind him would be unacceptable, and Kintor is confident his armor can absorb anything the STs can send at him. He turns his head slightly as the two marines pull Sandor back and under cover. A sigh of relief escapes Kintor and he turns to dive behind the same area that Sandor has just been dragged to.

Times like this make Maethor feel like punching someone. It dosen't take the former Stormtrooper long to realize what needs to be done. Mustering a few scattered Troopers together, the rankless Marine raids a conveniently placed ammunition depot. Shoulder-Fire missiles, Ancient looking T-21's, and a variety of grenades and other tools are cobbled together. Maethor leads the group up to one of the buildings nearest to the fighting, "Right, here's where we setup..." he growls, kneeling down to regard the situation at hand. Leaning on his Carbine, he glances skywards, "See if you can blow out a few of those TIE's and get them out of our hair" he says to a group of men carrying the shoulder-fire missiles, the Troopers nodding to the more experienced soldier, scurrying out to various points on the rooftop, aiming their launchers skyward, waiting for a TIE to start a strafing run. "The rest of you, take up positions, I want a perimeter around the building.... Give covering fire when you need it, and dont be afraid to ask for help" And with that, Maethor trudges over to the edge of the wall, peering down at the smoking Starport. Biting on his lower lip, he turns to one of the younger members of the party, "Round up some more guys and go scavenge us some more stuff, If it can go boom, get it"

The rebel counter-attack began. Fortunately, the Imperials had given ample time to set up E-webs and other emplacements, ranging from foxholes to gun posts. And it all unleashes upon the advancing rebel marines, SATs and infantry, a flurry of red blaster bolts and repeater blasts opening hell on the advancing troops. The TIE Interceptors sweep in for the overkill, continuing to open fire with their laser cannons well to the rear of the rebel charge so as not to hit any allies. And through this havoc the Imperial dropships, Titans and MT/191s, begin touching down several hundred meters -behind- the rebel advance. As ZCF grenade launchers and frag grenades are launched into the advancing line, these dropships unleash their cargo: from the Titans roll out the ferocious Imperial walkers and speeders, four AT-ATs and eight AT-STs, and from the MT/191s charge out the fanatical CompForce Assault troopers,the highly motiviated albeit crazy troopers of COMPNOR itself, and Imperial Army infantry. And thus the pincer begins, with the walkers and CompForce troopers moving in on the rear of the rebel line, pinned against the Imperial-held starport. And, somewhat oddly, above the battlefield, flies a Lambda-class shuttle with two giant sound systems attached to it, blasting the Imperial March as it circles around the battlefield, loud enough for all, especially the rebels, to hear.

And in all this chaos is Sergeant Tanis Cadell, currently keeping himself down in a readily built foxhole several meters ahead of an E-web emplacement, watching as the rebels advance on their lines. He exchanges his ST-II for a frag

Glancing over his shoulder, ST-1337 has been trying to get a good target to aim his frag grenade at. Seeing his oppurtunity as some of the Rebel forces, apparently not seeing the Stormtrooper hiding behind the rubble, come over the ridge and being their advance with blasters going wild. ST-1337 lobs the grenade over his head and braces for the explosion by presser tighter against the rubble, rifle up against his chest. He counts.. one.. two.. threee, feels the blast, and then he's up and running forward. He's shouting, in his helmet, but the commlink is off and he's the only one that can hear it. More blasts from the ST-II and more lackey Rebels taken out by either the grenade or his rifle, it's hard to tell. His thermal vision kicks in as he runs through the debris cloud from the grenade, emerging from the other side relatively uncovered, and so he decides to keep advancing, firing his rifle towards the opposition.

While the Marines had fared relatively well, the inadequetely equipped Army company buckles and nearly breaks under the combined assault. The SATs, of course, are faring considerably better with their advanced knowledge of small unit tactics, but even they are forced into cover under the weight of the renewed Imperial offensive. So quickly the counter-attack has been turned into a defense, and if nothing changes in the near future, doubtlessly it will escalate to a full rout.

"Command, this is Six, we need air support! Now!", Captain Mbeki shouts into the comlink personally, as a blaster buzzes a little too close to his head for comfort. Even beforehand, the lack of air support had been enough to give pause to the defenders, but now it will become the difference between survival and total destruction, regardless of the brave stands made by the few lucky men in this bloody battle. Almost instantly, the level of casualties and wounded begin to pile up to the point that the Army company, even without being shot at, would be more or less immobile for a bit.

Ducking below the line of fire, Kintor leans over Sandor, checking the man for anything obviously wrong besides the gaping hole in the man's side. Seeing nothing in particular, Kintor gives him a weak slap to the face before turning back to fire on the incoming Stormtroopers. He notices one forerunner among them and, thinking quickly, ducks back down below cover and sets the gun down. Taking hold of the vibroaxe resting on his waist, Kintor pulls it up into both hands and carefully peeks around the cover, doing his best not to be seen, guaging his distance from the trooper. At the sound of the Imperial March playing overhead, Kintor cranes his neck and looks up at the two circling Lamba shuttles above. Despite annoying him immensely, the near-human can't help but click his tongue softly to the beat of the music. It really was a catchy tune, and it's not like hadn't served the Empire, once upon a time. Kintor continues to wait, crouched in hiding, waiting for an opportune time to jump out at the nearing Stormtrooper.

Maethor glances skyward as the Dropships come down, a few spiraling to the earth in flames as they meet untimely demises at the hands of his Gunners. Watching them disembark, he lets out a sigh, "I'll bet that Maris is commanding them" he says with a grin as the dismounts charge fourth onto the open fields. "Ho hum, Ok boys, target practice. Hose the infantry down...." Maethor says with a chuckle, nodding towards his eager Gunners, who open fire on the trudging Infantry. The former Stormtrooper shakes his head as the infantry are cut down in their suicide charge, knowing the X-wings will deal well with the AT-AT's. The man flinches as one of his Anti-Aircraft gunners fires his missile up at a TIE, briefly covered in smoke from the backblast.

The reports of blasts, concussions, laser fire and explosions permeate the starport and surrounding areas. The heavy whire and clunk of gyros as At-Ats lumber along. The dying screams (Wilhelm) of Soldiers, both Imperial and Republic augment that wartime cacophany and the desperation of the defending NR mounts. As the Cochran sun crests the horizon, shedding crimson light onto the desolation and blood that is the battlefield, the high sky's show a new hope for the New Republic as one, two, three and four glints of durasteel flash at the proper angle - Air-support is on its way.

Kensle Gradvitz grips the flight control stick of his X-wing: Ghost 6 tightly as the blazing heat of the atmosphere sets the nose of his fighter aglow and tosses flaming air past the cockpit. Forming on his wing are three wingmen - Ghost Squadron having broken off from the orbital engagement to barrel down and provide what help they can to the pinned ground forces... and it was evident as the view of the bttle comes into sight - that support was needed indeed!

The leader of the X-Wings barks orders quickly enough after a moments inventory of the situation is taken, "Ghosts, Lock S-Foils into attack position, Arm what proton torpedoes you have left and hone in on those AT-AT's.. dont worry about those drop ships, or those ties for the moment, just lock in on the lead AT-AT.." The X-wings blaze downward, turning barrel rolls as they go, wings splitting into four sections and noses heating up. Torpedo after Torpedo - 1 - 2- 3- 4 slice the air from the nostrils of the Ghosts and consussive explosions erupt along the armored hull of the lead armored transport in an attempt to buckle the beast out from under itself and provide a moment of much needed relief to the ground soldiers being hard pressed!

A lone Scimitar Fighter Bomber peels off from a squadron of new arrivals and makes its way to the landing zone, anti-air missiles exploding around it seem to do little to phase the pilot, streams of chaff are expelled from the vessel's belly as well as the occasional starburst of a flare fired out to distract the few remaining and outdated heat tracking munitions still in use. Coming to a hover via repulsor generators the vessel does not actually touch the ground. The main entry hatch on the roof of the cylindrical sphere hisses as atmosphere is vented and the hatch doors open. Climbing up the egress ladder, Vassily Korolov, Warlord of the Galactic Empire makes his way. His crimson red armor is shrouded in a tabbard of ebon black. He takes his flight helmet off, replacing it with one favored by the Imperial Royal Guard, standing on top of his landed fighter he looks out over the ensuing maelstrom. Switching to the Ground Command frequency in his armor's comlink he sends a message to all of the ground commands, "I have arrived, it is time to take this war to the rebellious traitors and destroy them." With that he leaps off of the fighter, landing in a flutter of black before making his way towards the front lines.

Imperial infantry were certainly not elite like their Stormtrooper cousins. Neither were CompForce assault troopers, the fanatical COMPNOR infantry. But they were trained enough not to launch suicide charges, and in fact, weren't. Using the walkers and speeders as cover, the infantry progress upon the rear of the rebel lines - who were already pinned against the heavy Imperial assault from the starport. They were taking light casualties, nothing immense, given their current situation. The goal of the walkers and infantry were simple: pincer the rebel army, and annihilate them in between the stormtroopers and themselves. Nevertheless, the advance on the rear is stalled as one proton torpedo slams into the lead AT-AT, causing it come crashing down. The result: the Imperial AT-AT line is stalled. At least until the AT-AT is removed, whether by destroying entirely or by other means. For now, though, the AT-ATs would have to content themselves with firing their laser cannons off at at the distance, using the 17 kilometer firing range of their weapons to evict as much damage on the rebel rear as possible. The infantry and AT-STs, however, continue onward undeterred, and slam into the rear of the rebel lines.

Imperial air support, however, was there from the very beginning and ready to counter the X-wings that had just arrived. Switching from strafing runs to intercepting the rebel starfighters, the Interceptors take off, their laser cannons spewing green bolts at their rebel counterparts. The ground fire from surface-to-air missile launchers does take down a few of the Interceptors, but their speed and the fact that the sky was now filled with ally and enemy targets, made some of the missiles simply trail off until it was destroyed by self-detonation.

And as for poor Tanis, still stuck at the front of the lines with his squad and ST-1337, he continues to open fire with his ST-II, firing into the rebel line though at no one in particular - if he saw a figure, he fired. Saw something moved, he fired. That's all that mattered. But, some reassuring news does make it over the radio - the Griffon flagship had been destroyed, Grand Admiral Kreldin had the Griffons on the run and was currently engaging the rebel forces, and, to top it all off, Warlord Korolov himself had decided to join the ground battle personally. With the tune of the Imperial March bringing pride and morale to him, Tanis continues to open fire.