Battle of Bestine

[Dmitri]

​

When a report had shot through ICARUS that Fondor was under attack, other nearby shipyards and military installations went on high alert. One of the shipyards to prepare was Bestine. It had thought itself ready for anything.

It was wrong.

The Rebel armada had exploited a weakness in the Bestine sensors, discovered by intelligence stolen by the defective Ubiqtorate agents. The rebels were already attacking before planetary shields could be raised. As the Rebel and Imperial naval forces engaged each other, several shuttles rained onto the planet below. Land-to-air defense systems managed to take out some shuttles, but not all. One surviving shuttles entered the construction area for the Star Destroyer Ruthless. The Star Destroyer was nearing completion, already assigned to become the flagship for Aurek Company. However, issues with one of the engines had proved problematic and eventually the engine was removed so it could be reworked. It was in that hangar that hosted the Stormtrooper Byrec. Byrec was one of three Stormtroopers assigned to Bestine to oversee the final completion of the Ruthless and deliver it to Anaxes so that Aurek Company could take command of the starship. However, with the rebel offensive against the Bestine shipyards, Byrec had a new task: defending Ruthless and its host shipyard. A Whequay had been the first to arrive in the vast construction bay littered with cranes, crates, and disassembled pieces of the Star Destroyer engine. That Rebel operative had been the first casualty. A second rebel was about to arrive, and it would take the Rebel's skill, cunning, and luck to avoid a similar fate.

@Grizz @Jamor Rodea (no posting order)

 

[Grizz]

The defeat on Manaan still rang bitterly in Byrec’s head. Once again, they were unsuccessful in their attempts to conquer the water world once and for all. Oh, that thing about saving face? No go. It started off well, perhaps too well in hindsight. The Imperial commanders saw fit to maintain aggression and violence of action. They blazed through the defenses of Ahto City, never letting up on their momentum and pushed it. Of course, once they actually took over the city, things started to fall apart. The Imperials were caught with their pants down trying to set up shop, and paid for it dearly. It seemed like they didn’t know what to do after their first efforts were so successful, chaos broke out when the Rebels launched their counter attack and they were systematically picked apart. Byrec and his spotter Varon were providing overwatch inside one of the large towers that dotted the urban landscape, conveying troop movements to the rest of their company and providing support via sniper fire. Despite gunning down many of the opposing force, they were forced to withdraw after nearly being overrun.

In their hasty retreat Byrec had been hit then, but his companion had dragged him all the way to their fallback point with the rest of the company. Once they reestablished a rudimentary defensive position, the Stormtroopers held out until the order to retreat was given. Byrec survived, with various bruises, his centurion armor pitted and scored, but most of all his morale had taken a blow. The stormtrooper saw it also on the faces of his battered brethren as they boarded the dropship for extraction. After all it was supposed to be their finest hour yet after the debacle on Naboo, and yet their-his expectations were proven to be quite false. By a bunch of rag-tag terrorists and fish-heads no less.

Aurek Company had been spread out pretty thin post-Manaan, a puzzling decision from the up and up in the chain of command, but grunts like him rarely had the full picture. Assigned under Sergeant Barlek, the two scout sroopers were dispatched to Bestine to oversee the construction of the ISD Ruthless. Normally deploying in such small numbers is worrisome, but they were scouts. They were trained for missions requiring a high-degree of independence, and were certainly up for things others may think to be unorthodox. And now here he was in another wet, water world with a bunch of ships. Clearly, the powers that be continued to meddle in his affairs. What a sick joke it all was.

The disgruntled scout found that he had plenty of things to do once the Rebels engaged the fleet topside however. The trio of scouts bear the responsibility of defending the shipyards, and Byrec was assigned one of the construction bays for the ship’s engines as his area of responsibility. So far no one had bothered to enter his domain. The scout posted himself in an overwatch position high up on one of the upper walkways in the construction bay. Behind several crates and deep in the mechanical jungle of cranes, Star Destroyer parts and miscellaneous equipment strewn about…. Byrec waited. Through the scope of his scoped DE7 rifle, he watched and waited. The Private had identified several of the entrances to the hangar, and positioned himself properly so he could see everything. Well, mostly anyway. Despite Byrec's advantageous position, the nature of his surroundings gave any opposition plenty of cover should they seek it quickly upon entering.

At some point a Weequay had stumbled through one of the doors; the man was definitely armed and harbored only ill-intentions of course. Byrec had no idea why the greasy alien saw fit to carelessly trespass in his domain, but he made him pay for it. The Weequay only took several more steps after Byrec had spotted his entry; a distinct BKAOW rang out and the Rebel was sent crumpling to the ground. A red bolt had streaked through the air impossibly fast, slamming straight into the man’s center of mass. Staring through the scope of his weapon, Byrec narrowed his eyes. Where there was one Rebel… there’s usually more to be found. Experience taught him that much.

"Contact down on my sector," he reported into the squad's comlink channel.

@Jamor Rodea

 

[Sangga]

Dancing through AA batteries and then getting this far, past patrols and security measures to be taken out by one, lone marksman. He hadn't known Farka long. Farka Quinak was an alliance infiltrator, he was not. The Weequay had the explosives, the security tunnellers... he had everything! Now Jamor had something he didn't, life.

He'd been assigned to this mission as he exited hyperspace at Yag Dhul, in among the rear elements of the amassing fleet. Now he was in a corridor, back against a wall with no explosives, his RNSF leather jerkin over his Representative outfit and a pistol. There was one thing, he hoped, that he had as an advantage against the lone gunman. He knew that the gunman was there, this might not be reversed. He checked his pistol, full cell, and he checked his belt. Restraints, smoke grenade, holo-communicator and three spare cells. Staying here was not an option, the idea was to set charges on the engine. Small ones, but in the engine near non-vital components. Then detonate at news of the Star Destroyer's launch. Now he could do that or he could leave.

He lightly rolled the spherical smoke bomb to Farka's corpse, if he was going to try anything he'd need the kit. Next step would be cover from the Sniper. Farka was running to some crates, that was a start. He grabbed the peak of his cap a the smoke began to billow, got he hoped that the shooter didn't have heat sensors on right this second. He bolted and skid into the Weequay's corpse, upon contact he'd try and roll over corpse and hooks his arm under the bag and drag himself and the corpse to cover. The incoming fire would be inevitable. The shooter had elevation, time and superior fire power, he had to get closer. Bring the weapons advantage to his side.

 

[Grizz]

A spherical device rolled slowly towards the charred corpse of the Weequay, and Byrec frowned when smoke spewed out from it. He correctly assumed that there was someone else in here, far more tactful than the Rebel he just dispatched at any rate. The scout trooper took his eyes off the scope and quickly reached for one of the pouches on his utility. Among the standard load out he was given, Byrec still had the thermal weapon sight he was issued prior to the Battle of Manaan. It meant to facilitate his work in situations in visibility obscured conditions in the midst of the chaos on Ahto City. While fairly compact and serving as a great addition to the low-light optics built-into the DE7, it had several disadvantages. It was difficult to distinguish enemies from friendlies through the sights. In this particular scenario however, Byrec was certain this was possibly case of friendly fire.

Mounting the device on the railing of his DE7, the scout flicked it on and peered through the scope. It took several seconds for it to start up, and he was forced to wait during those crucial moments. Once it was on, the scout adjusted his view, seeing the complete picture at last. Two heat signatures, shaped like sentients were down below. One was quickly dragging the other to cover and Byrec didn’t miss a beat. Squeezing the trigger, he aimed for the center of mass and fired. He needed to tag the Rebel now before he'd lose line of sight.

@Jamor Rodea

 

[Sangga]

The smoke seemed to be working, but Farka was one heavy Weequay; the bag straps were taking a lot of the strain and progress was steady. But it was only time until... That thought stopped, the strap snapped and he found himself on his back. The scorch mark that went horizontally across his chest was concerning to say the least, his hands still clenched the bag. He laid very still for a moment, his lay there and listened. Muffled speech, Imperial troopers wore full face helmets, there'd be nothing if the marksman thought he was alive. Laying on the floor, he thought he'd never see the marbled walls and sparkling fountains or the streaks of light as a ship enters hyperspace.

But then the crafty, conniving part of his brain awoke. It judge the line of the scorch mark, the fact that as he lay here there was a row of crates covering him from the floor. The bastard had an elevated position, so he rolled closer to the crates. Then he took a breath, his chest stung all over. "I'm not alone... there are more coming..." he kept low and headed to the edge of the crates with the rucksack in hand. "... not to mention if you had someone else, I'd be dead on the for like Farka... you could let me live... come with me... help me... we have plenty of Imperial troopers helping us... we're not all from Naboo or Manaan."

@Grizz

 

[Grizz]

Byrec had hit his mark after all, but had no way of knowing if the Rebel was truly dead. For several moments he lay there and watched through his scope. The scout trooper make tch’d when the seemingly dead corpse rolled over onto several crates for cover. He had no line of sight, and for the moment the Rebel was alive. Several thoughts were running through his mind as he analyzed the situation, glancing to the doors to make sure no one else was coming. Solimar almost snorted when the man started speaking. Clever, the man had ascertained that the scout trooper was all but alone. The insolent rebel also tried to convince him to betray the Empire out of all things, which almost elicited a response from the scout. Almost. More likely than not it was an attempt to further ascertain his position, although the shots from earlier did give the man the general direction at least. Words that threatened to doubt his resolve and stay his hand. Byrec scowled deeply as he tracked the man, staying silent.

Not everyone is from Naboo or Manaan eh? Oh, I know.

The scout trooper knew exactly what the man implied. Ever since the civil war and recent developments, casualties continued to pile up in the Corps. His squad leader—Cristo Morrell—perished on Manaan alongside other countless brothers over the years of failed campaigns. Additionally, treason and discord proliferated amongst the ranks. Foolish and naïve to think they’ll get away with the insurrectionists or these Rebellion scum. Death. If not by his hand, then by the many other loyal servants of the Imperium. He was disgruntled sure, but treason was almost unthinkable. What was there for him in the Rebellion? There was no Empire should their goals ever come to fruition. It was a galaxy that he had no place in. He suspected the two groups were working together-Rebels and insurrectionists- but no doubt they’d squabble over the galaxy. Different visions after all, and there’s only room for one being made reality. He doubted that the Rebels-particularly any surviving members of the Galactic Alliance- would stand by and let the Imperium still stand. Empress or no.

It could only end badly, one way or another. At the very least with the Imperium, he'd die with his ideals and loyalty intact.

Byrec narrowed his eyes and ran the previous scenario in his mind—his rifle was trained on the crates still. The Rebel utilized a smoke grenade, which bought him more than enough time to slip past the doors and away line of sight. Yet he had tried to drag the corpse away with him. The man was obviously dead—as the rebel himself had mentioned in his impassioned plea— which meant that there must be something on his person valuable enough to risk his life for. What was it? There are several reasons as to why the Rebels even bothered to come here, and the chief among them was the dismantled engines of the Ruthless. Even if the Imperials did regain control of the shipyards, should those explosives detonate, and what may be others across the installation—the Ruthless will be set back for several months at least. Not to mention other ships in various stages of construction.

Damn. He had to finish this man quickly. No line of sight, he'd have to move. Picking up his weapon from it's fixed position, the scout trooper started re positioning himself on the walkways, trying to obtain line of sight. Byrec still had the advantage up here, no reason to expose himself by going down yet. Other Rebels may be nearby also, to exploit the lapse of judgement if he did such a thing. If he couldn't obtain a shot though... the Rebel may have the advantage of making the scout trooper come to him.

@Jamor Rodea

 

[Sangga]

Silence.

It was deadly that an absence of noise could effect the noise so, but it seemed that this marksman was not in the mood to negotiate. He risked a glimpse around the edge of the crates, the main housing for the ISD's engine was split in two distinct sections. He needed to make it to one of these halves, but where was his potential executioner? The dullness of the hanger, the oppressive silence and the fact he had to cling to cover. Sitting still was not the option, all that would achieve was a swift death by laser bolt. As he prepped to run the silence broke. The hangar's catwalk rattled slightly, residual vibration from the fight on the planet... or footsteps. He held his breath and listened, the weren't regular... but they weren't in time with any explosions. The bastard was above him, or at least the cat walk above him was connected. He leaped to a nearby machine part. The solid metal structure provided some confidence. He looked into the rucksack, perfect.

*clink* *clink* "Blast!"

They weren't placed with any care, he just had to get them on the gantry, but he looked up at the three blinking red lights. He'd thrown the trio of small devices in one toss. He really only needed one to hit it's mark. But with one in the hangar... he'd have to risk it. Moving to the other side of the console, having it between him and the explosives. He pressed the stud on the detonator. A rapid and escalating chirruping heralded the crump of munitions. Worse case it stole the marksman's attention as he was barely ten paces from an engine housing. Best case the marksman was nearby or the walkway system was brought down.

@Grizz

 

[Grizz]

Byrec was dimly aware of the silence that perpetuated the hangar after the Rebel's unanswered pleadings. Truly, the stormtrooper made his point across. The scout frowned as he couldn't find a shot still, and resolved to flush the man out with something else instead. He couldn't risk using a frag grenade or a thermal detonator—that would just do the man's work for him by crippling the parts he meant to guard in the first place. Naturally it was a pretty insurmountable task considering he's the only one posted here. If the Rebels really wanted to they can just send a few more people to keep him busy while one or two set off the explosives. Or hey, just go out with a bang to make it easier. Surely there were such fanatics in their ranks. However, it's not like that's a pass for Byrec to be lax in his duties. He had his responsibilities and would carry them out no matter what. Or at least try his hardest to do so.

The scout trooper palmed a flash-bang from his utility belt. There was a myriad of equipment down there to make the space narrower—which should serve to his advantage. He had a superior position up here and the means to look past all sorts of obstruction with his thermal sights right? Byrec was just letting go of the spherical device to throw it—when he spotted several similarly shaped devices attaching themselves to the walkway across from him. The scout trooper's eyes widened, and his outstretched hand drew back after throwing the stun grenade to hold on the railing. The trio of explosives detonated the instant after, and for a moment his vision was clouded in fire. He felt concussive force from the blast threatening to knock him off, and shrapnel bouncing off his armor. Something sharp cut into Byrec's gloves as the scout trooper covered his face reflexively with his other arm.

Did the Rebel perish in the explosion? Byrec didn't know, but despite the other man's close proximity to the detonation he assumed the worst. He had other things to worry about of course, because the walkway system he was currently standing on buckled under the force of the explosions and from one of its parts reduced to scrap. The scout trooper could only hold on with both hands things started to unravel. Byrec didn't know if his earlier throw even made it—in fact he wouldn't be surprised if he missed entirely. His thoughts were cut short as the walkway finally collapsed onto the hangar floor with a loud crash—his grip slackened halfway and he was thrown off. The scout trooper fell hard into several storage crates and assorted starship parts that hardly made for a cozy landing.

@Jamor Rodea

 

[Sangga]

The blast had knocked him into the curved engine housing. He shook his head and then stumbled back up to his hands and knees. He rolled the bag off his shoulder and began placing very small but sufficient amounts of plastic explosive along the seam of the welds. Before he got up he placed the remote detonator pins in the putty. If he was to go down here, he'd detonate everything, it would at least delay the creation of this Star Destroyer.

But escaping would be better, but with the marksman still about, it would be difficult. But due to the catwalks destruction, it was now easier. He flicked a switch on his pistol and a green light turned blue. They were now in his element, close up with plentiful cover, his soft soled city boots made his movement quiet. He'd left the bag at the housing, his pistol was raised and he checked around every corner, a quick glance and then back in. The streets of Theed faded into his mind. Metal casings became marble, wiring was the vines of flowers. But all this returned to its hard metal reality, there was a glimpse of white as he darted back into cover. "Last chance, I'd be happy to take you with me."

@Grizz