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Chapter:
2 3 4
Stormtrooper Diary By Patrick Shiflet *** I woke up from a deep sleep to the soft black silence of the crew bay. Everyone slept silent in the company. I could not see the bottom of the bunk above me, not even sure if there was another berth above or simply the ceiling. I did not remember what ship I was on, where we were or what we were going to do. I just remembered a pleasant dream. It was a celebration, the first day of spring in my dream. I went swimming with long forgotten friends in a river near my old home. We were excited about the gifts, dancing that night, and all the young girls we would meet. I think it was my coming of age. This was the year I could finally take seat with the older people and drink and talk and live in that new world of adulthood. I remember the dream so well. I could smell corn, the tassels were in bloom on the wind. It was strange, vivid. I tasted the chalky hard water of the river, I felt the hot sun and the cold water. It was very strong, very real. Then I awoke to the darkness around me, but for a moment forgot who I was and where I was. I was still in my dream. I had not dreamt like that in a long time. I was mortally tired. The Empire’s offensive steamroller was crushing outpost after outpost. The rebel’s high command had been penetrated somehow and the intelligence was astounding. For a while, we seemed to know exactly where they were hiding and it was my job to hunt them all down. Mine and my unit’s that is. I could not remember the last time we had an entire day’s rest. The last raid took thirty hours, sleepless and busy the entire time. We were frayed, tired. It was a ground raid, rough conditions. But we were not done. In a few minutes the lights would turn on, the sirens go off and we would be busy again. I could tell others around me were awake. Just a weird feeling I was not alone in the darkness. "Up, deck 12 mess, move out!" rang through the room as the lights flashed on. The one hundred troopers of Black-Cross battalion rose out of bed and filed out of the room. Few bothered removing their jumpsuits before sleeping. We all knew work was not over yet. We were about to start a new day. No one spoke on the way to mess. We were all waiting to see what was served and still in the throes of waking. Eyes were all to the floor as someone close to the door punched the correct level on the lift. No one dared speak, simply out of superstition. When I first joined the unit, one trooper, young and stupid, was a chatterbox all the time. He would jabber on and on, especially in the morning. Always trying to prove how awake he was and how tough he was. Then came our first mission as a unit. There was no agreement not to speak that morning, this one guy just talked so much the rest of us did not bother. We were scared and that was all right. He was the tough guy, confident, cocky. That morning our meal changed. It was excellent, some of the best food I had ever had. Then we went into combat. Some of us had been in action before, but the majority were brand new out of training and never saw what people were really capable of. That loud guy was the first to go, and he died ugly. Since then, no one has spoken before our meal, and the better the meal, the more glory we’re headed for. The server was good. As far as I knew, all signs we were headed strait to hell. It could have been that I was simply starving and tired and centuries of evolution made eating one of the greatest joys imparted to an animal. It also could have been excellent food. Nevertheless we all had a feeling it would be a long day. "Aziel, do you know what is going on?" Crash asked as we sat down. The name on his jumpsuit read G. Ramma, but the G stood for something unpronounceable. We all knew him as Crash. "How should I know," he answered between bites. Aziel was a tall, thin man and dark. His eyes were shaded almost black around them and his face was perpetually covered with dense short black bristles. "I know as much as you do Crash." Crash was perpetually worried about something. He was pale, had a certain roundness to his features. Few give him credit by his appearance and demeanor. But he survives. That was the prime requirement for the unit, survival. "How is the meal?" a soft grating voice asked behind me. I turned and saw Synge smiling. His throat was badly damaged during a routine sweep of what we believed was an abandoned vessel. It gave him a sinister voice, which was quite in contrast to his character. Synge was probably the best friend I had in the unit. He was shorter than most troopers, wiry and so black he was almost blue in the skin. "Good," I replied making room for him to sit. "Bad," he replied looking toward the light in the ceiling. "Synge?" Crash asked as he sat down. "No, I don’t know Crash," Synge said. "Why don’t we eat and relax as men, the whole room smells of fear." I had no idea what Synge could smell, but I definitely felt the strain in the air. The hall was designed for general dining of the lower ranks and the scores of troopers meandering between tables rarely looked up or made eye contact. There was a simple weary downtrodden feel to the room. Combat teams sat amongst themselves, predivided by their sections, mostly by habit, but also by preferred company. A trooper approached our table and sat down wordless. Aziel looked at him for a moment and went on eating. The discomfort in the room changed around us. Crash’s hands weaved over his food and he ate faster. Synge nudged me because I was closer and did not want to hear Crash. I always got the bad jobs. "You are new, aren’t you?" I asked the figure next to me. He looked at me and I slowly took in his features. The cords on his lean neck stood out when he moved. He was very young, younger than I was when I first became a Stormtrooper. His eyes were narrow and peered into me. His motions were slow, deliberate as he finished chewing his food and swallowed. "Yes." He replied, turning back to his food and taking another bite. "Shouldn’t you find your unit and dine with them?" I asked. He turned slowly again and appeared to have found what I said funny from the subtle change in his features. He looked at me, into my eyes, and I saw the most tired eyes I had ever seen. It was as if he never slept, never saw rest, and only wanted things to end. He blinked, then returned to his food. The silence at the table thickened. "What I mean is that you may want to move anyway," I said cringing because it was too late. "It is fairly crowded this morning, isn’t it?" Hazdrubal said from behind me. Hazdrubal towered over other storm troopers, over everyone. It was not that he was extremely large, it was his presence. He was our unit commander and the most feared person I had ever known. Other commanders obeyed him instantly. He simply had the presence of command. Even higher officers showed him respect. It was not for rank, it was simply the possibility that someday something could go wrong and if he were in the field with you, you could come out alive. Synge said he was magic and carried a charmed air around him. I thought he was a terror and left chaos in his wake. Either way, it was a privilege to fight with him. Crash began to stutter and motion with his hands as if he were dropping something. Aziel looked more uncomfortable, almost trying to hide at the table. Hazdrubal always sat in the same place and now the seat was occupied. I looked imploringly at the stranger begging in my mind for him to leave, but Hazdrubal sat next to him without a look. "What is this?" Hazdrubal said eyeing some mysterious item on the end of his fork. "Something new and special to dine on today, eh?" No one said anything. "Maybe the tongues of troopers at this table?" Suddenly his tone changed. "Answer me this BC-112, why is it so quiet this morning?" "I do not know, sir" I replied. "Care to speculate why it is that my newest trooper is not welcomed by his comrades?" Hazdrubal asked. "Stand up and step away from the table," he said to the stranger. The man obediently stood. "With the tray," Hazdrubal said, sliding into the now vacant seat. "This is trooper BC-118, Sythar Rax who is the remainder of Unit K. He has now become one of The Fittest." With the introduction everyone at the table quit eating and stood up, rattled off their identification number and name, and shook Rax’s hand. We were the Fittest as Hazdrubal called us. Rax had his moment and was now part of our combat team. We hoped this dour young man would show the finer qualities of the group and prove that we were in fact, The Fittest. The hours after the meal were filled with the dizzying preparation for our mission. The timetable was short. Very short. We were to prepare for corridor assault. Corridor assault is the most grueling of environments a stormtrooper can be in. The TIE fighters and turbo lasers from Star Destroyers can only do so much without truly damaging the integrity of the structure. If there is something valuable and a ship or space station needed taking, the only alternative was to breach the outer defenses and take the structure on foot, corridor by corridor. Ground assault could be bad as well. There were all kinds of environmental factors which can suddenly impede a trooper’s progress. They were predictable though. Weather can be anticipated. It works against the enemy as well as you. Outside there are many options available to a unit when things get bad. Creativity and good decisions can make dire situations survivable. Inside, all factors are against you. The enemy knows the corridors better. They can control every aspect of the environment. There is no place to hide either. When things break down, they break down bad and the options are often plain and simple, face down what is ahead of you, don’t hesitate to find out what was left behind, and always, always survive. The unit assembled in the huge hanger bay of the star destroyer Conquest. We were filing together to review for our commanding officer. Hazdrubal stood in front of the group and everyone else filed behind in the usual order. Rax was at first confused where to stand but quickly found a vacant spot in the ranks. "Lost?" Synge said under his breath when Rax finally fell into position. Rax did not reply. We had no time as Admiral Ket and his escort began their parade. We tensed and saluted in unison, by unspoken command when the Admiral’s eyes met Commander Bevan, the leader of Black Cross Battalion. Behind the helmets, all eyes of The Fittest fell to the small grizzled man at the back of Admiral Ket’s party. Lieutenant Celtechar was older than the accompanying officers. Older than Admiral Ket. He walked with a pronounced limp attesting to the prosthetic region of his leg. He did not have the distracted look of the other officers. To him, the parade was more than just a routine before battle. To him dressing out the troops was the final honor, to send them forth with one final command. Victory. He was not like the other officers, not a sycophant or well connected young politician. He was an Imperial Storm Trooper in his youth carving out an empire with his blood and sweat. He had seen combat, been wounded several times in action until a final heroic effort left him limping. However, he was not easily dismissed. His talents were retained and cultivated and he became an officer. Command, however, was a different battle field and where Celtechar was proficient with a blaster, he was not with politics. Senior officers knew his story and respected him, but were also threatened by his presence and found ways to minimize his influence and position in the chain of command. Celtechar was not ambitious, nor greedy. He was a soldier and missed his time in the ranks of troopers. Instead of using his influence to advance himself, he was content with his own little projects with personnel. Celtechar assigned the stormtroopers to their units. He was the mastermind behind Hazdrubal’s Fittest. All eyes watched as he passed and noticed the nod toward Hazdrubal and Celtechar mouthing the word victory. After the parade the group fell out to gather the gear and head to bay 54. There we boarded an Imperial Assault Brig and waited for our turn. Our mission was to attack some rebel controlled space station. During an assault, in this case, a siege, the order of operations is critical. Everything is orchestrated to work together to make the enemy crumble under a barrage of well placed and well timed strength. First ion cannons and TIE fighters would bombard the outer defenses of the space station, working in tandem waves. After softening, they wait for counterattack and fall back until the rebel forces were overextended. Then comes the final assault where TIE fighters can engage any rebel snub fighters and our Assault Brig can have a clear shot at landing on the station. Only things never turned out that well. The assault itself is designed to penetrate when the rebels believe they have chased us back and cut off all exits. Our objective is to penetrate the data core immediately and secure it. There are also several individuals on the station which must be captured. In particular there is a Skywalker who must be captured at all costs and not destroyed. I wondered why one rebel could be so important. There was no understanding the values held by the Imperial command. Recently there had been a large shift in commanding ranks due to some strategic miscalculations and a certain lack of patience by Lord Vader. The new commander for our battle group was virtually unknown to us and I wondered whether his abilities were more political than strategic. "Is it me, or is it warm in here?" Aziel looked up at the ceiling and removed his helmet. I had been lost in thought and realized everyone around was silently thinking as well. "It is hot," Crash said as he removed his helmet, "is it the thermal control?" He got up and began to punch buttons on the sole wall panel. "Does that panel even do anything?" Aziel asked. An Assault Brig was a simple ship, designed for speed and strength. Our bay was just a small armored room with two doors. A large, heavy door on one end which led to whatever we were thrown at and another entrance to the crew bay. In between was the Fittest and racks to hold our gear with small jumpseats below. Climate controls were never a big concern. "There could be some programming error and we may be fried." Crash began to punch buttons indiscriminately. "It is our gear," Synge said. "We’re still wearing the thermal liners in our armor from the last assault." The activity in the bay ended and Crash sat down. "What was that planet called?" "Hoth," Aziel said. "It is too late to change. Now we’ll be baking the entire mission." The crew bay door opened and Hazdrubal emerged. "Two minutes to launch. The rebels are countering." He disappeared and closed the door. The bay was dead quiet for a moment. Then everyone wordlessly got back into position and prepared for launch. The final prep for launch was the worst. The nervous energy dissipated in the long wait returned with the assurance that we would be in battle soon. Transportation and insertion at target was a Stormtrooper’s nightmare because there was no control over what would happen. You simply hoped that this was a good pilot and you were lucky. More Stormtrooper units were killed on insertion and retrieval than any other time. That is why they were implementing this new system with faster, smaller ships holding individual units, rather than entire battalions. A storm of ships was much harder to target than a single large transport. Oddly enough, I heard the strategy came from observing a rebel attack. We felt the ship move as it began to get in position for launch. I always sat back and relaxed as much as I could during this time. I would close my eyes and try to think quietly to myself. I would listen to my heartbeat and feel every muscle push and pull deep breaths slowly in and out. I wanted to be completely in myself, without fear, without anxiety. Nothing was in my control except myself. As my heart slowed and my breathing, I could feel peace, unworried about the future, or the past. I would be living in that particular moment in perfect calm. Finally, the Assault Brig left the Star Destroyer and our mission was underway. I tried to maintain my calmness, but in the end I would became excited, opened my eyes and looked at the people in my unit. Crash was the most interesting to watch. All through launch he would be his normal nervous self, fidgeting, scratching, tapping, whatever he could do to calm himself. Then, after the ship left the Star Destroyer his whole composure changed. He quit moving around. His posture became confident. Although the armor he wore did not convey much, if you were observant, you could see a different Crash sitting before you. This time, however, I watched Rax. This silent trooper was an enigma to me. He had not spoken to anyone in the group. Synge tried to coax him out of his shell with periodic questions but nothing broke his demeanor. We could not tell if he was confident or afraid. Mostly he behaved like a corpse, in which case we would not have needed a replacement for our last fallen comrade. However, Celtechar felt Rax could be one of the Fittest, so he must be able to fight. We would soon find out. "Call positions," Aziel said after receiving a signal from Hazdrubal that we were on our final approach. We counted off signifying each position we would take in a standard corridor fast penetration weave. Rax was covering my flank during repositioning and acting as front cover when I moved to secure. I hope he knew exactly what he was supposed to do. The weave was very complicated to watch but made sense when moving down stark corridors completely exposed. Each man moved with someone covering him as quickly as possible to some predesigned position. Then the man who was covering the first could make his move. Going through doorways and other passages which potentially could ambush the group required three troopers to make visual contact with the room simultaneously to make sure all positions in the entrance were covered at once and angles would not work against you. The remaining three troopers acted as blind cover, able to fire into the room without making any visuals with targets. It was less effective, but during an ambush, something was better than nothing. Some units trained with this system but fought haphazard. We trained and used the system until it was an art. Hazdrubal would have it no other way, and it worked. Hazdrubal walked in and sat in the only empty chair of the bay. He strapped in and a moment later we made impact. Our Assault Brig hit the station hard. We waited and heard the charges on the outer hull of the Brig explode, tearing a hole into the station’s hull. Everyone leapt from their seats, grabbed blasters and went into position as the heavy doors swung into the bay. Crash and Synge ran to flanking positions on either side of the gaping black entry hole and Rax and I dove through into an empty room. Apparently it had been used for storage as there were no lights on inside and plenty of crates and unused equipment. My helmet showed infrared images of the room showing nothing warmer than power cables along the walls. "Secure position one," I said. "Secure flank," Rax called. The rest of the group filed in and started making their way toward the door. Hazdrubal reached it and found it locked. "Charges?" Aziel asked, reaching for the ordinance. "No, quietly," Hazdrubal said. "Synge," he moved out of the way as Synge stepped to the control panel. He opened the panel and studied it for a moment. He placed an interface to the control wiring. "Room’s secure. If we open it we’ll be detected, even with a code. However, they should be busy elsewhere on the station." "Do it," Hazdrubal said, falling into Synge’s position. The door opened and I could see two corridors perpendicular to each other, ending in the room we stood in. We were heading for the core which meant strait ahead. Fighting could be heard down the corridor perpendicular to us. Apparently our placement was good and the main assaults had been drawn off from our penetration point. We filed down the hallway as fast as possible. The alarms were audible in the corridors making it impossible to hear anything quiet or subtle. All we could count on was speed. "Intersection twenty meters," Crash said from the lead position. "Two way, still clear ahead." "Aziel, right side, Detris left," Hazdrubal said from behind us. I ran toward the corridor entrance hoping no one would be waiting. I did not know if my flanker Rax would be there in time. Hazdrubal was coming up to make the break across the intersection. Aziel and I came into view of the intersection and stood back to back. I saw nothing immediately in front of me as the corridor made a slow turn. I could hear something behind me. Aziel was not firing as he moved in position so it must not be a threat. "Secure, fast and quiet," he said quickly dropping away from behind me into a crouch. "Secure ten feet," I said, knowing something could appear down the hallway any time. I moved forward allowing a lane between Aziel and I for the rest of the group to make the crossing. The peal of the alarms grew when I stopped moving and waited for the last of the group to signal secure. I counted three when I saw door open and a rebel appear fumbling with a large blaster rifle. By the time he looked up, it was too late, I had fired. Apparently the noise could be heard from the other side of the hallway as Aziel began to fire. "Secure," I heard over my headset and fell into the corridor. "Compromised rear," Aziel said. "Pursuit?" Hazdrubal yelled from the front of the group. "Six," Aziel said. "Deploy ordinance," Hazdrubal ordered. "Detris cover." The main group sped down the hallway and stopped fifteen meters from the next intersection. I dropped into coverage stance as Aziel set two small charges on either side of the corridor. We turned and ran when they were set. I could hear voices and shots were fired past me as I ran. Aziel was hit in the shoulder, but the armor absorbed most of the burst he kept moving. The rebel team hit the explosive point about the time we met the group. We passed the rear cover and took position in the middle of the group. "Damage?" Hazdrubal asked. "None," Aziel reported. "Crash, Rax, cover corridors, we’re going right," Hazdrubal said charging toward the intersection. I took my position in the weave and never once looked back to see what the charges had done. I knew there would be another group behind us any moment, but they would be awfully careful and we would be fast. "Hold!" Synge yelled, falling back as Hazdrubal fired from the flanker position. "Large group, fall back to cover!" Synge dropped to firing position as Hazdrubal pulled back. "No good rear," Aziel reported. "Find alternative cover," Hazdrubal said covering for Synge. I saw an elevator down the hallway, but it was out of coverage. "Elevator fifteen meters, out of coverage rear," I said. "That is where they came from," Aziel said. "Open door, center cover," Rax said. As I turned I saw him disappear into a room. He was supposed to wait for me to cover him. I rushed over and saw stray blasts rebounding through the room. Rax was nowhere to be seen. I dove for cover and saw Rax pop up and fire. We were in the control section overlooking the coolant system for the station’s power core. There were two rebel operators darting from the control room into the operational center. Rax ran to the window overlooking the pumps and tanks when a shot shattered the window from the forest of pipes below. "Secure," I said waiting for Hazdrubal and the rest to appear. "Window unsecure," Rax stated and started toward it again. "No," I said grabbing him from behind. "They know those systems down there, they have cover. We don’t. You do not go unless you are covered or want to die." Rax simply looked at me without saying a word. I could feel his intensity diminish when he had to stop. He stood motionless and I let go of him before Hazdrubal made it inside. "Detris, why aren’t you at your post?" Hazdrubal yelled. I was supposed to cover the doorway he entered. "Larger threat from below," I stated pointing to the reactor area observable from the control panel. There was a ten foot drop from the window to a large pool of coolant which and a myriad of pipes and pumps leading from the primary tank. Inside the tank was the reactor core systems. Apparently the two rebel technicians just shut the system down and were monitoring the final stages from the control room. They must have been abandoning the station. A shot was fired from below and a high pressure line exploded in front of the control area, flooding the room. "What do we do?" Aziel asked when he finally entered the room. "Secure the door," Hazdrubal said sitting down. "Let’s figure out our options." Crash and Aziel nodded and took up positions flanking the door while Synge checked the control panel. Shots were exchanged with the rebel forces outside. We were pinned down, but they could not approach. Rax and I covered the window and operator access door overlooking the reactor room. There was no sign of movement below us. Hazdrubal looked carefully at the controls and tried to bring up a map showing our position in the station. The coolant pipe was still spraying through the control room. "The controls are damaged," Synge said. "I can close the blast doors by signaling a reactor failure, but they cannot reopen." "Do it," Hazdrubal said, looking through a schematic of the reactor room. "They can’t get us through there and we have another route for escape. Rax, Detris, what is the situation?" "No movement," I said. "No movement," Rax repeated. "Shall I go down?" "Wait until we have a route prepared," Hazdrubal said as Crash, Aziel and Synge walked to the control panel to examine the options. As I sat staring over the reactor I began to feel the hot discomfort of my extra thermal gear underneath my armor. It seemed to grow intensely. "Are you hot Rax?" I asked. "No," he said wiping coolant from the face of his helmet. Suddenly we heard a loud impact on the outer door. The control board started lighting up with all kinds of indicators. "What’s going on?" Hazdrubal said. I turned and looked at the far edges of the reactor bay and they lit up like the sun. "Incendiary!" I yelled, pointing. "Incendiary, this side too!" Rax shouted. "We’re trapped," Synge said. Crash said nothing and jumped through the control window into the reactor pool below. Hazdrubal and Aziel followed. Synge grabbed Rax who seemed to freeze in place and watch the wall of flame approach and I made it in just as it hit. *** The clap over the tank was deafening and shock rang through our bodies as we floated in the hot coolant over the reactor. Our armor was filling with liquid and we were sinking from the weight. Hazdrubal motioned to a ladder on the side of the tank which we swam toward. My head was ringing and I hurt all over. By the time we made it to the ladder to pull ourselves out, my lungs were screaming for breath. My heart began to slow down and I could see black rings on the edge of my vision. I grabbed the rungs and pulled myself up to the surface to yank my helmet off. When I reached the top I pulled my helmet free and gasped for air. I felt my lungs cave in choking and coughing on the noxious gas around me. The oxygen had all burned in the initial fire storm. I thrashed forward trying to get myself out of the tank when Aziel and Synge came up behind me. They could not breathe as well and began to fall back under. I gasped, and moved toward a faint glow in front of me. I did not know what I was going toward but I felt I had to move forward. I got out of the tank onto a catwalk and on my hands and knees made my way to a wall where the glow came from. I reached up and felt with my hands a round object. It was an emergency tank with a breathing apparatus. I turned the valve and began to breathe. Behind me I heard my unit flailing in the tank and on the catwalk. I took a deep breath and moved toward the noise through the smoke which filled the room. I found Aziel flailing on the catwalk above the ladder leading from the tank. He had pulled his helmet off, but could see nothing and was struggling for breath. I pulled the mask off and pushed it onto his face. His hands flew to his face and he began breathing. I felt a hand hit me from below as Hazdrubal reached out of the cooling tank. I grabbed his hand and pulled up hard. He was very heavy. I fell backwards hauling him out of the tank onto the catwalk. Hazdrubal was carrying Crash’s limp body. I struggled with their helmets and Aziel handed the air supply to them. I could see nothing in the room at all. Smoke was hurting my eyes and my lungs were burning. Someone handed me the air supply and I took a breath. I handed it back and reached into the cooling tank for more bodies. I could hear splashing, but still saw nothing. I had no breath to yell, so I took a steel bar and hit the rail. The splashing moved into our direction and I felt a hand brush my leg. I grabbed it and hauled Synge and Rax out of the tank and onto the narrow catwalk. Someone put a mask in my hands again and I took a deep breath. There was a second tank now and it was being passed to Synge and Rax. The smoke was very thick and we still did not know where we were. Synge grabbed my hand and pulled me along the catwalk. Along the floor there was a glowing strip with arrows indicating direction. The unit crawled and dragged along the floor, following the strip to a door. Rax hit the control panel and the door opened to a small closet. We piled the group in and the door shut, activating the ventilation system. It was an emergency closet, designed for uncontained fires or leaks which could endanger the engineers on the reactor room floor. For a few moments, everyone coughed and choked on the clean air. Eventually we breathed slowly and deeply as Aziel checked Crash’s vital signs and made sure he was alive. “Synge,” Hazdrubal said. “Is there a link to the main computer in here?” “Yes, let me see if I can tap into the network.” “How is Crash?” Hazdrubal asked Aziel. “He’s breathing on his own, but it is very shallow and his heartbeat is irregular.” “What do we need?” Hazdrubal said, as he leaned over Crash’s body and listened to his ragged breathing. “Probably to get out of here and onto a medical deck,” Aziel said. “I don’t know enough about this. He’s inhaled all kinds of gas and some coolant got into his lungs as well.” “Synge?” Hazdrubal asked. “It isn’t looking good,” Synge said. “Fire on all decks, alarms for gas are everywhere. It looks like we’re pretty close to a secondary hangar. Looks like some exterior repair vehicles.” “How are communications?” “None. Computer is nearly down, power is delegated to last emergency reserves. The only intact systems are stand alone emergency units like this one. I give the computer three more minutes before fire kills it.” Synge looked up at Hazdrubal. “I think we should leave as soon as possible.” “How many fit in each repair vehicle?” “Two.” “That means three now,” Hazdrubal said. He grabbed a breathing apparatus and motioned for the rest of the group to do the same. Aziel put one on Crash and I motioned for Rax to help me lift Crash from the ground. Synge looked at the console for one last moment, downloaded a map and disconnected. “Ready,” Synge said and the group nodded in agreement. He opened the door and headed down the corridor. I could see nothing as we wove our way through the maze of equipment in the reactor room. Crash was heavy and cumbersome with his limp body, even with three carrying him. Finally, we entered the equipment bay and clambered into the two small repair pods. Aziel, Crash and I entered the first and Synge, Rax and Hazdrubal into the second. We ejected into quiet space and left the burning space station behind. “Detris,” Hazdrubal said over the com link to our ship. “What is your status?” “Aziel, Crash and Myself are aboard. Crash’s condition has not changed,” I replied. I peered through the tiny port at the front of the cockpit and could see the station and the damage to it. It was losing integrity in the hull and was spilling gas into space. The rotating axis of the station was going out of control and the orbit was quickly degenerating. “Get clear of the station and I will hail our pickup ships,” Hazdrubal said, clicking off communication. “Why did the rebels fire an incendiary inside the station?” Aziel asked. “They usually surrender, rather than commit suicide.” “I don’t know,” I replied. Something was wrong. Something was wrong out in space. I could see the rebel station swimming sickly and out of control as it began to break up and start heading toward the planet. “You would think we would have gotten enough control of the station to lock something like that down before it could happen,” Aziel said. “Unless it was one of ours.” I realized what was wrong with the view. I could not see any imperial ships. There were no TIE fighters and the Conquest was gone. I rotated the ship around. All of space was black and empty. “Hazdrubal,” I called over the com link. “Have you contacted the Conquest?” “No,” he replied. “I’m not detecting it on the scanners either.” “Where are they?” “The range is pretty weak, we may be experiencing some jamming from the space station falling apart. They also may have gone to the other side of the planet.” “Something went wrong,” I said quietly. “We will exhaust all possibilities. Keep up your visual scanning and prepare a contingency plan for landing on the planet.*** I glanced at the ship’s status. Life support was overloaded trying to keep the three of us breathing. I calculated seventy eight minutes of support left before the system would be depleted. The cabin was getting too warm. I looked at Aziel attending Crash. Our armor had changed color from the incendiary and the coolant. It was crimson. “How’s Crash’s breathing?” I asked Aziel. “He’s still in very bad condition. He is not conscious and I don’t have any equipment to help him.” He slapped the cabin wall in frustration. “Where are the pickup ships?” “I don’t know. We need to work on a landing scenario.” I looked at the controls again. This was a repair ship, not a landing shuttle. It was not built for reentry. “What do you know about this planet?” “What planet is it?” Aziel asked. “I don’t remember from the briefing. Did they tell us?” “No,” Aziel said. “I don’t think they told us. I think they just gave us mission objectives. What does the computer tell you.” “The computer has plenty of diagrams describing the space station, but nothing else.” I looked down at the planet. From the dark side of it, there were lights through some clouds indicating cities. This was positive. There was plenty of cloud cover. The sun was coming out from behind the planet. I could see plenty of blue beneath the clouds and the land was fairly green. There was not much land mass and the poles had very little ice. “Looks like a warm, wet place down there.” “Well, let’s either get picked up or head down,” Aziel said. “I’m unhappy with being in here.” “Me too,” I said softly. The next problem was where to land and to make sure we could. The ship was designed for space station hull repairs. It did not have any standard re-entry equipment. I would have to make something up. “Detris,” Hazdrubal said thirty minutes later. “What is your progress on a planet landing?” “Not good,” I said looking up. My neck cracked as I straitened out. I was watching the sunrise again through the window. “However, I think it is possible. Have you hailed the Conquest?” “Negative. Communication is zero. There is no sign of Conquest or any other Imperial ships. We will commence with a planet landing. Give your report.” Inward, I sighed. Any landing was going to be very unpleasant. “We have forty three minutes of air left before life support systems fail to keep up. The ships are not designed for re-entry or rough terrain landing so any calculating will be manual and upon landing there is little chance the ships will survive and no possibility of the craft ever leaving. We will be marooned. “However, we can configure the ships to survive re-entry. The ships were being used to fortify the station with armor and have a strong shield system for the armor attachment. Direct the shield system behind the thrusters of the ship and place all of the armor sheets under these thrusters. We will enter the atmosphere with the armor and shields facing this direction. When the armor has burned off and the shields overload, we can deploy the main thrusters to slow us the rest of the way and make a crash landing in the jungle canopy below. I calculate eighteen minutes before a good window in orbit to land. This will place us around sixty kilometers from the largest settlement I’ve seen on the planet.” “Send me your calculations on reentry and your control configuration. We will make the eighteen minute window. Stay within visual contact of my ship. Hazdrubal out.” “Detris out,” I replied. My ship pulled up alongside Hazdrubal’s and I watched the robotic arms move the armor plates behind the thrusters. The planet slowly turned beneath us. We would be landing in the late night as far as local inhabitants were concerned. This suited me fine, I did not want to go through any lengthy conversations with local authorities after landing. “Aziel, prepare Crash and yourself for landing,” I said as we turned into position. “How much time?” Aziel asked. “Four minutes,” I replied. “Good, we need to get out of this trap.” He busied himself tying Crash down in the second seat and anchoring himself the best he could to what was left of the cramped cabin. “All right,” Hazdrubal said over the communicator. “Computers are synchronized on the same clock, we will begin re-entry window in two minutes thirty. Are you ready for landing?” “Yes,” I said. “Crash, Aziel and I are all secure and ready for landing.” “When we enter the atmosphere we will lose communications and control will be difficult. These craft were not made for atmospheric maneuverability. I’m going to give you lots of room which means we will not be in contact with each other when we hit the ground. Detris, I want you to make your way toward the city after landing and Crash is stabilized. We will make our way directly there and assess our situation after that. I do not know how we will come into contact with you, but your first priority is Crash’s condition, after that, finding us and getting back to the Empire.” “Yes Hazdrubal,” I replied. “Aziel, stay with Crash and see what you can do for him after landing.” “Yes,” he said. “All right,” Hazdrubal said. “Good luck, and we will see you on the ground.” He clicked off and there was silence in the air. Hazdrubal’s ship peeled away from our own and for a moment we saw nothing but the planet below us getting bigger and bigger. We were falling into a mystery. Heavy clouds were below us and I could only trust the few calculations I made to estimate where we would land. I hoped it would work. I grabbed the controls and stared in front of me. I just watched the clouds and my mind drifted. I became calm, like I did in the Assault Brig, right before takeoff. This was just another re-entry, another mission. I could see ourselves slipping into the atmosphere, the robotic arms of the ship burning off with the heat, the ship getting unbearably hot, breaking out of the cloud cover and racing over the night black land, only to fire the little boosters at the last minute and crash through the canopy into dense, thick jungle. It was all before me, all I had to do was do it. “Get ready,” I said. “It’s going to get hot.” The slowly moving clouds below us picked up subtle speed. I rotated the ship into the reentry position and the curvature of the horizon disappeared. The ponderous large planet became a streaky black smudge of clouds and land through the tiny window. We dropped into the atmosphere and began feeling the turbulence with the increasing density. My eyes shot back and forth between the console and the window. There was nothing I could do for a while. The ship had no aerodynamic controls. The attitude adjusters were designed for space and would only set the ship into a tumble if touched. I simply watched and held tightly onto my seat. From below I saw a streak of bright light for a moment. I leaned over and saw a second streak of light. I realized it came from the other ship. What was causing this, I thought to myself? A moment later our ship jumped and I could see a hot yellow streak of molten metal streak over the window. The control arms had blown off and the thin mounts were getting hot. I activated the shields and started directing power from the reserves. The cabin became much warmer. The sound of the ship’s generator fought with the noise of the air as we streaked through the atmosphere. There was another great jump and a deafening clap ringing through the cabin. The supports holding the armor collapsed. Crash groaned. It was getting very, very hot. I looked out the window and the view changed. I saw the stars winking in front of me. “We’re rotating,” I yelled. My words were swallowed up in the noise of the cabin. I grabbed the controls and looked out the window. There was no point of reference. Clouds obscured the horizon, I could see flashes of stars, but made nothing else out. I began to feel cold with sweat and my heart beat in my throat. I could not panic, but I did not know what to do. I set my head back in the seat and shut my eyes. I felt fear, like I had done many times before. I simply did what I had to. My lungs filled in a long deep breath and all was quiet to me. I remembered the thoughts I had before we began reentry. I remembered the heat, I saw the ship. I felt what was wrong. I could see us tumbling in the sky and just needed to touch the controls to fix it. It needed the slightest breath, enough to stop the tumbling, but not too much. Slowly, I could see the ship stop tumbling in my mind’s eye. I opened my eyes and let out a long breath and coughed on the hot stale air of the cabin. The sound of the atmosphere racing over the ship deafened me. We popped out of the gray cloud cover and I saw pinpoints of light over the ground. We were no longer spinning. I wanted to cry out in relief, but I was famished for air. The pinpoints disappeared and I could make nothing out from the window. I checked the console and saw the shields weakening. I did not know how close to the ground we were, but it did not matter. The shields finally gave out and I hit the engine control. Sound tore through the cabin and we felt a large jolt. The console became a maze of warning lights, but all alarms were lost in the din around us. I felt confusion for a moment. Wham! Something hit the hull and everything was chaos. I think we were tumbling as I had lost concept of up or down. There were all kinds of noises on the hull and sounds of tearing everywhere. It must have lasted only bare seconds but it felt like time would never end. Suddenly, it all stopped. Everything was oddly quiet around us. No one moved. “Ha!” Aziel said, taking off his helmet. He was lying in a heap on what was the ceiling of the ship. Then he began to laugh. He just laughed and laughed, until tears rolled from his eyes. He looked at the hatch, hit it with his foot, and kept laughing. The door slid off the ship and fell to the ground, allowing the cool air to rush in. “Let’s get out of here,” he said while unstrapping Crash. We wormed our way out of the torn wreck of a pod and found ourselves standing in the quiet of the jungle night. The low tinking noise of cooling metal mixed with the song of the insects of the trees. I suddenly felt tired. A tired that I could not describe. “Nice landing,” Aziel said as we dragged Crash’s body from the wreckage. “What do you mean?” I replied, slowly sitting up. “Look, we’re all here,” he said smiling and pointing to Crash. We set him with his back against a tree, breathing slowly. He gave me a flicker of a smile and continued concentrating on breathing. “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Been better,” Crash wheezed. “Just concentrate on the important stuff,” Aziel said. “You inhaled quite a bit of coolant and it has been doing some pretty nasty things to your lungs.” Aziel moved toward me. “We’re going to get some food, so stay put.” Crash waved his hand and closed his eyes as we walked out of hearing distance. “How is he?” I asked. “It is good that he is conscious. That is about it.” Aziel looked into the sky. “We have no equipment. I can drain fluid from his lungs, but only with equipment. Right now, we’re helpless.” “We will have to improvise.” “With what?” That was an excellent question. I looked around at the trees around us. We were in a wet jungle. It was not hot, but definitely wet in the night air. I had no idea where we were or how near anything was around us. “We really don’t have time to consider things,” Aziel said. “You saw a settlement from space?” “Yes, we passed over it on reentry.” “That is our only option right now. Crash needs attention that I am unable to give.” “Should we contact the rest of the group.” “Yes, but I can take care of that,” Aziel said. “Or try.” He pointed to a pile of gear. “Most of our equipment is shot. What wasn’t shorted by the dip in the coolant was smashed on reentry. I think our personal helmet links are still functional, but the range is very short.” “So I will be out of contact?” “Yes.” Aziel and I both knew this was the least desirable situation. It increased our chances of making more problems than we solved. My getting lost, or finding help but not being able to find Aziel and Crash meant disaster. “Look, we don’t have time.” “Right,” I said as I grabbed my helmet. “Before you rush off,” Aziel said with a wry smile, “let’s at least make a quick plan. I will stay here with Crash. We have two functioning blasters, of all the luck. I’m giving you the one with the greater charge.” “Thanks.” “Well, you landed the ship,” he said smiling. “I will light a fire every six hours in case you lose your way back. You still have a timepiece?” I checked and was happy to find it intact. “Good. Now, get out of your armor.” “Why?” “Well, where are we?” Aziel said motioning around with his hands. “We don’t know anything but this, there is a city on a planet circled by a rebel space station. I don’t think they want to see any stormtroopers.” I smiled and dropped my helmet. “This isn’t going to be at all easy, is it?” “No,” Aziel replied. “But if it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing. Be careful and do whatever you can. Crash needs success.” My armor and thermal gear underneath were hot and uncomfortable in the wet jungle. With them off, I felt a certain unease, like something essential was missing. I knew we were not out of danger yet and shedding my armor was not the first thing I wanted to do. I turned and walked down the large cut the pod made on reentry. The city was somewhere behind it and I could only hope it was close. I tried to orient myself, looking through the jungle canopy cut open by the ship. All I could see were clouds with periodic stars coming out. A moon glowed faintly behind some thin clouds. It was the main source of forest illumination. Getting lost was the worst thing that could happen. It was very likely as well. Where were the lights? There should be a glow from the city reflected off of the clouds. I smelled the air. It was thick with strange things. I was unfamiliar with all of it. Branches and plants grabbed at my clothes as I walked. I hoped I was making a straight line, but knew that was unlikely. My flashlight was a source of entertainment for countless flying insects and began to give me vertigo. I switched it off and used the meager moonlight to guide my steps. Mostly I ran into things. I looked behind me often trying to remember the direction I had come. I tried to find some kind of marker I could remember. Actually marking the trail was not difficult as I blundered through the darkness. Branches snapped and leaves tore as I walked along. With enough light I could find my way back. The problem was going forward. I reached into the pockets of my jumpsuit and found some leftover food from some forgotten mission. It was bland and stale, but wonderful at the same time. My system felt a mild euphoria and I felt some stress from the situation ease. I realized I had been awake for almost twenty six hours. Not eating fooled my body into staying awake. The fatigue however could lead to mistakes. As I plodded along I saw a light flicker through the trees. Was it the fatigue? It was very easy to see a light in the dense darkness of the jungle. It was difficult to believe in it. The trees were dense and I could not pinpoint where it was coming from. I saw the light for a second time, out of the corner of my eye. The wind was moving slowly through the trees. For a moment I would see it, then not. I walked toward it as well as I could, getting glances periodically and hoping I would not lose it. What was this? I broke through a thicket of vines and found myself on the edge of a small, grassy clearing. A little stream was meandering slowly through the middle. The light which led me came from a metal cup dangling over a cistern full of water, turning slowly in the breeze. The cistern was sitting on the opposite bank of the lazy stream around forty meters away from where I stood. A lantern sat below the edge of the cistern and the cup reflected the light from the source. I could perceive a figure bent over the edge of the cistern and heard splashing. The breeze shifted and the splashing stopped when the figure stood upright. It was very tall, taller than the average man. The angle of the lamp was still bad and I could not discern any features. I stood frozen as it peered quietly in the darkness. I could feel its alertness, feel the tendrils of its perception grasping at the darkness. I did not move, I barely breathed. After some moments, the breeze shifted again and the creature soon lost interest. It took the lamp from below the lip of the cistern and from my distance I could perceive a robed humanoid figure. It looked odd, and for some reason I was sure it was not human. It walked away from the cistern, in the opposite direction to where I stood. It approached a low, featureless structure tucked underneath a large tree. It vanished through the entrance and all light illuminating the clearing disappeared.*** I waited for some minutes to see if the creature would emerge. However, there were no signs of movement coming from the structure. The light had a negative effect on my night vision and I was having difficulty discerning anything in the deep night shadows. I did not dare turn on the light, in case the figure was watching in the darkness for me. Creeping slowly across the tall grass of the clearing, I began to make out the shape of the structure. I could make out high squared off walls and what appeared to be a massive tree growing through the center of it. I was surprised to encounter a small garden hidden in the tall grass as well. When I got to the stream, I made my way up it toward the dwelling. The cut of the stream was lower than the surrounding land and I had better cover from this vantage point, even if I could see less overall. The dwelling appeared small at first, but with a better angle, I could see it was larger than I at first had thought. It encircled the tree and rose three levels up its trunk. The bottom level encompassed more than the trunk, extending into the darkness of the jungle. I could perceive no windows or any features on the dwelling. It was just a massive irregular shape in the darkness. I crept further up the stream. Beyond the dwelling I saw several shapes in the darkness which I could not interpret. Was all of this primitive? I was still not sure what to make of my findings and not prepared to take any course of action. I needed more information. Entering the mysterious creature’s dwelling would be the last thing I wished to do. The shapes behind the dwelling were not trees, but what? I glanced unhappily behind me as I made my way out of the stream’s cover and skirted the edge of the clearing. Toward the dwelling there was less ground foliage and more paths to walk on. I came up to the mysterious shapes and finally had some good information. The amorphous shapes were containers covered with camouflaged netting. They were standard freight containers. I chanced detection and turned on my flashlight, looking for markings to determine which planet I was on, or where they had come from. However, I could not read the language. There were no Imperial customs markings. I could not tell if they were empty or full. At least this was a sign of technology. A second shape sat further from the edge of the clearing and closer to the dwelling. I went down on my belly and crawled toward it. There were scorch marks on the ground around it. Underneath the cover I found exactly what we needed. A small truck designed to fly just above the jungle canopy. It had room for a single driver, but there was a large open air cargo bed. No sounds or signs of movement came from the dwelling. I looked at my timepiece. I did not realize how much time had passed. Four hours had elapsed since I left the crash site. I could wait for Aziel’s fire signal, or chance stealing the vehicle right away. Lying on the ground, I realized I would soon fall asleep. I could not trust myself to wait, and what better chance would I have. Slowly, I crept around the truck, removing the ties on the camouflage cover. I sat back and stared toward the structure in the darkness and laughed to myself. The same surge of adrenaline I felt so many years ago was with me stealing this vehicle. It is funny how times and settings change while the fundamental adventures will remain the same. The thrill will remain regardless of the time and space that passes in between. I thought back to a warm dark night in my youth where I climbed into the garage of some wealthy landowner living on the edge of my little town. There were so many rich people around us in our tiny working town. We all worked their land, kept their animals, cooked their food and worked their hours. I don’t recall any reasons, but I decided to take a fast land speeder from some particularly wealthy and annoying individual. I can’t remember a name, or even a face, but the speeder was beautiful. Seeing one tear across the landscape, hearing the engines roar caused some strange emotion to well up, bringing tears to my eyes. I saw it as art more than a vehicle, a piece of perfection in what was ordinarily mundane. Beyond the value of the speeder was the act itself. As soon as I decided to do it, there was a certain newness to life, a weird intensity that I had never felt. It was as if I truly became alive and that I had committed no action before that. Climbing over the gates and getting into the garage I felt a new awareness, something about myself which had changed. I guess it was a sense of purpose that was entirely my own. My young life was filled with tasks performed under some orders, projects conceived by others but performed by myself. This was really the first significant thing which I had done entirely of my own initiative. It called on things I did not know I had in myself. I had to be brave, alert, smart, and inventive. I felt free. How quickly that all disappeared. I shook myself out of the memories and stared at the task at hand. The structure sat like a tomb in the darkness. Slowly, quietly, I folded the camouflage cover up into the truck. The electronic lock was not activated on the door and I entered the cockpit without a sound. The interior lights did not activate. Was there any power? I switched on my little lamp and discovered the main power coupling disconnected and lying on the floor of the cab. Not the best maintenance I had ever seen. I clipped the coupling together. Lights came on with a cough and a roar. Indicators were lighting up all over the display and the vehicle shook as it rose into the air. A group of birds in the tree next to the vehicle took off in panicked flight. Sweat broke out all over my body and my heart raced with surprise. I grabbed for the main power switch and found it jammed into the on position, bent in a very curious manner. Grabbing the controls tipped the truck in a very ugly, ungainly way as it pitched around in the darkness. I nudged the idle and the truck bucked up above the jungle canopy giving me a much brighter view of the night landscape. Cautiously I tapped the controls forward and the vehicle lurched violently before gaining speed. For a moment I relaxed and looked behind me, into the darkness of the compound. I could barely see two figures standing in the open heads tilted up toward the vehicle. I don’t believe they were waving goodbye, but they certainly were gesturing wildly. The landscape rolled underneath me and I began to relax, confident for the first time in a long while. Finding the crash site was simple. A large tear in the jungle canopy appeared and pointed directly to Aziel and Crash. I landed the vehicle on the open ground and found them nearby. Crash appeared to be sleeping. Aziel stared at me until recognizing who I was and then waved after setting down his blaster. “Is he all right?” I asked as I approached. “He’s been sleeping, but he is far from all right,” he replied as he grabbed the remnants of our gear off of the ground. “He needs a better place to sleep and I need to drain his lungs.” “We could take him to the city,” I said motioning toward the truck. “Is that where you got that wonderful piece of hardware?” “I found it near here, actually.” I pointed roughly in the direction. “There was some kind of structure, permanent, not a camp.” I helped Aziel load the armor into the truck. “Big?” he asked. “No, well, multi level. Only two occupants by my count.” I looked at the bed of the truck and tried to arrange a place for Crash. “What do you think of our chances? Better than the city?” I stopped and thought for a moment. Whatever was living in the jungle was alerted to my presence when I stole the truck. However, we knew what we were dealing with there, more than the city at least. The question was, would they expect a second attack or not? “I say we chance it. They know I stole the truck but I doubt they will be prepared for a second contact. The truck is not very reliable either and I don’t know the total distance to the city.” “I wish we had the rest of the unit here,” Aziel said. “It would simplify everything with more manpower.” He motioned toward Crash. “Let’s load him up and get going. You can still find this place?” “Yes sir,” I replied. We hauled Crash into the truck awakening him from his doze. He was still wheezing heavily and looked totally exhausted. “Give me your blaster. When we get there, drop me off just outside the perimeter in the jungle,” Aziel said. “Then I want you to circle around the opposite side. This thing will wake anything mobile up and get them running. Don’t land until you see me wave you down.” We popped over the jungle canopy and I directed the truck back the way it had come. Looking out over the jungle I could not see the structure at all. However, I quickly found the little stream and followed it over the clearing. Aziel dropped into the tall grass and I quickly flew over to the opposite side of the structure. I hovered for a brief moment and two figures emerged from the structure. Circling slowly, I watched them run out from the cover of the tree and into the open. Not the best strategy, I thought to myself. If I were armed, they would be totally exposed. Were they armed, I wondered? Why weren’t they firing? I turned slowly in the air and realized they were arguing when I got closer. One was gesturing madly, trying to raise what possibly was a blaster rifle. The other kept pulling the rifle down. I turned on the landing lights and illuminated the two individuals on the ground. The one with a rifle was definitely a droid. The other was a very large figure in robes with shiny skin. I could not tell what species, but it certainly was not a human. It had a rifle too, but made no efforts to raise it. The rifles looked very large and old, compared to the new, sleek blasters they appeared antiques. Finally the droid wrenched himself away and raised the rifle toward the truck. I wrenched the controls around and heard a sharp report. When I turned back I saw smoke pouring from the droid’s arm as it ran toward the stream, the other figure with its hands high in the air, looking a lot less imposing with naked arms exposed and its rifle on the ground. Aziel was waving us down and appeared to be laughing. *** More to come |
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