NationStates Jolt Archive

"All right. Here you go." Captain Havoc nodded to the Sergeant, who began to work his techie magic and link the Rear Admiral Basque to the other commander.

------
Rear Admiral Basque, commander of the First Fleet of Coredia, was summoned to the communcations center of his beloved carrier.

"Sir, we've got incoming. From a Captain Havoc of the army." The comms officer reported.

"Yes?" Basque answered the comms.

"Havoc here, I'm linking you to Commander Suskind of the rebellion navy." Havoc said, and then the comms guy was then linked to the other Commander.

"Admiral Basque here." The Admiral said into the mic. "How are you, Commander?"

"I am well, Admiral Basque. I am Commander Suskind of what passes for the Free Woody Thoughts Navy these days. Apparently Whitfield wishes to liberate Fedawoody Island next, due to its proximity, and I agree with them.

However, there seems to be a bit of a disagreement between the rebellion and your military. I understand that you wish to conduct the bombardment from here, but our guns lack the range unless loaded with specialized shells that we would rather save for inland bombardment. Currently, we have no sea-to-ground missile capability, for we were outfitted exclusively with AA missiles a few days ago to shoot down DropShips, and haven't been in port since.

It seems like Colonel Hughes, who's running your army apparently, wants the bombardment to be conducted from sixty miles out. Here. But we would like to get within twenty to twenty-five, because it felt good shelling the DropShips yesterday morning, and we would like to do it again."

"I understand." Tsunade nodded and broke off the healing. She needed to get a little rest too. "Is there anything else you want?"

The Hospital ship will arrive in another three hours.

"Yes please, ma'am. A map. A 'Mech. MREs, 'cause you never know when you'll need 'em. And a ride back to Earth. I have some business there."

Keith Allaire realized that he still wore the robe that Ebolus had given him to wear after the mindrape. "Oh, and if you're feeling particularly generous, something other than this robe for clothing would be nice..."

"I am well, Admiral Basque. I am Commander Suskind of what passes for the Free Woody Thoughts Navy these days. Apparently Whitfield wishes to liberate Fedawoody Island next, due to its proximity, and I agree with them.

However, there seems to be a bit of a disagreement between the rebellion and your military. I understand that you wish to conduct the bombardment from here, but our guns lack the range unless loaded with specialized shells that we would rather save for inland bombardment. Currently, we have no sea-to-ground missile capability, for we were outfitted exclusively with AA missiles a few days ago to shoot down DropShips, and haven't been in port since.

It seems like Colonel Hughes, who's running your army apparently, wants the bombardment to be conducted from sixty miles out. Here. But we would like to get within twenty to twenty-five, because it felt good shelling the DropShips yesterday morning, and we would like to do it again."
"I understand. Here's what we can do. We can detach the battleships and their escorts to you to assist in the shore bombardments while leaving off the subs for the attack on the main island. Aircraft from the carriers will also be doing what they can to eliminate enemy resistance. How is that?" Basque asked.


"Yes please, ma'am. A map. A 'Mech. MREs, 'cause you never know when you'll need 'em. And a ride back to Earth. I have some business there.

Keith Allaire realized that he still wore the robe that Ebolus had given him to wear after the mindrape. "Oh, and if you're feeling particularly generous, something other than this robe for clothing would be nice..."
"Are you sure?" Tsunade asked as someone went to get some lighter-toned Jedi clothes. "You're still reeling from the effects of the surgery. I would recommend some rest."

"I understand. Here's what we can do. We can detach the battleships and their escorts to you to assist in the shore bombardments while leaving off the subs for the attack on the main island. Aircraft from the carriers will also be doing what they can to eliminate enemy resistance. How is that?" Basque asked.

"This I like. Though Whitfield wants us to wait until the enemy has been drawn away from the DropShips by the landing force. Seems like he doesn't want to get possible supplies caught in the crossfire."

"Are you sure?" Tsunade asked as someone went to get some lighter-toned Jedi clothes. "You're still reeling from the effects of the surgery. I would recommend some rest."

"Ma'am, you underestimate yourself. The surgery was rest, with the exception of two short bursts of terror. Which faded away.

Oh, and thank you for the clothing. Something that doesn't have to remind me of the dark one."

"This I like. Though Whitfield wants us to wait until the enemy has been drawn away from the DropShips by the landing force. Seems like he doesn't want to get possible supplies caught in the crossfire."
"Good point. We can do that. Would there be anything else?"


"Ma'am, you underestimate yourself. The surgery was rest, with the exception of two short bursts of terror. Which faded away.

Oh, and thank you for the clothing. Something that doesn't have to remind me of the dark one."
"Oh, very well." Tsunade answered. "We'll book you a flight to Coredia then hop you over to the battle zone. Just be careful, ok?"

"Good point. We can do that. Would there be anything else?"

Commander Suskind smiled a bit, for the first time since the Justice had vented a tiny slice of her anger with her massive guns yesterday morning. "I approve of your plan. Now all we have to do is tell Jedi Whitfield and Colonel Hughes they may deploy when ready. I shall coordinate our departure with them."

The comm officer aboard the Justice then hailed Captain Havoc over audio commlink. "Captain Havoc, this is the EWS Justice, we await your estimated time of departure."

"Oh, very well." Tsunade answered. "We'll book you a flight to Coredia then hop you over to the battle zone. Just be careful, ok?"

"I will return, ma'am." Keith Allaire went digging through the pockets of the old robe he still wore, to see if he could salvage anything. Especially credits. He found twelve, enough for maybe a few ration bars, if prices were comparable to what they were on White Diamond base exchanges, which, he had to admit to himself, was a somewhat uncertain proposition. "Where would I find a restroom to change clothing and a commissary?" The latter seemed to be a common question amongst Woodians passing through Jurai, for they always needed supplies and provisions for one thing or another. "And when does the next transport leave?"

He had a feeling he wouldn't have to worry too hard about finding a 'Mech once he got there...

Commander Suskind smiled a bit, for the first time since the Justice had vented a tiny slice of her anger with her massive guns yesterday morning. "I approve of your plan. Now all we have to do is tell Jedi Whitfield and Colonel Hughes they may deploy when ready. I shall coordinate our departure with them."

The comm officer aboard the Justice then hailed Captain Havoc over audio commlink. "Captain Havoc, this is the EWS Justice, we await your estimated time of departure."
"Oh, we're going to leave whenever Whitfield here is ready." Havoc said, then glanced at the Jedi. "Which is probably going to be soon, right?"


"I will return, ma'am." Keith Allaire went digging through the pockets of the old robe he still wore, to see if he could salvage anything. Especially credits. He found twelve, enough for maybe a few ration bars, if prices were comparable to what they were on White Diamond base exchanges, which, he had to admit to himself, was a somewhat uncertain proposition. "Where would I find a restroom to change clothing and a commissary?" The latter seemed to be a common question amongst Woodians passing through Jurai, for they always needed supplies and provisions for one thing or another. "And when does the next transport leave?"

He had a feeling he wouldn't have to worry too hard about finding a 'Mech once he got there...
"Restroom: Down the hall at the end. Commissary: after the restrooms, take a left and look for the signs." Tsunade answered. "Next transport to Coredia leaves in half an hour."

"Oh, we're going to leave whenever Whitfield here is ready." Havoc said, then glanced at the Jedi. "Which is probably going to be soon, right?"

Jacob Whitfield could only crack a smile. "Then what are we waiting for? I'm ready to leave right now."

As he said this, he sensed that he wasn't the only one in a hurry...

"Restroom: Down the hall at the end. Commissary: after the restrooms, take a left and look for the signs." Tsunade answered. "Next transport to Coredia leaves in half an hour."

"Oh, fudge." Keith's eyes widened and darted around, as if looking for some demon to run away from. In this case, the demon was not the Dark Side, nor its practitioners, but simply time. "I shall return."

Keith waved good bye to Tsunade before running down to the restroom to change. He picked the closest stall, purged his old Sith robe of the twelve credits he had found in its pockets, and cast it off as he quickly put the new Jedi robe on. He grabbed the dark robe and stuffed it in a garbage receptacle on the way out.

Next stop: the commissary. Keith quickly found it and scanned its aisles for rations as quickly as his eyes would allow. After taking a few precious seconds to look at price tags and do calculations, he took exactly twelve credits worth of field ration bars, then ran to the cashier's counter, where he displayed them and presented his money...just enough to pay for his purchases, get out, and come again.

After the cashier took the money, he disappeared before said cashier could issue a receipt, for it would take up precious time. He ran faster than he ever had before in his life, not really knowing where he was going...but somehow, he knew. After sprinting all the way to the docking bay, he relaxed a bit when he arrived for final boarding on the transport, barely winded at all, but still draped in sweat...

Jacob Whitfield could only crack a smile. "Then what are we waiting for? I'm ready to leave right now."

As he said this, he sensed that he wasn't the only one in a hurry...
"You heard the man." Captain Havoc smirked. "Let's get going."

"As instructed." Admiral Basque nodded and turned off the comms to order his fleet to ready status.

"All right, I'll get the Colonel." Captain Havoc nodded to Whitfield and the Sergeant and left to get him.

Soon, the Colonel ordered the army to prepare for deployment once more. Transports were prepared for infantry and vehicles, the mobile HQ was packed up and the air fleet prepared to charge into battle once more.


"Oh, fudge." Keith's eyes widened and darted around, as if looking for some demon to run away from. In this case, the demon was not the Dark Side, nor its practitioners, but simply time. "I shall return."

Keith waved good bye to Tsunade before running down to the restroom to change. He picked the closest stall, purged his old Sith robe of the twelve credits he had found in its pockets, and cast it off as he quickly put the new Jedi robe on. He grabbed the dark robe and stuffed it in a garbage receptacle on the way out.

Next stop: the commissary. Keith quickly found it and scanned its aisles for rations as quickly as his eyes would allow. After taking a few precious seconds to look at price tags and do calculations, he took exactly twelve credits worth of field ration bars, then ran to the cashier's counter, where he displayed them and presented his money...just enough to pay for his purchases, get out, and come again.

After the cashier took the money, he disappeared before said cashier could issue a receipt, for it would take up precious time. He ran faster than he ever had before in his life, not really knowing where he was going...but somehow, he knew. After sprinting all the way to the docking bay, he relaxed a bit when he arrived for final boarding on the transport, barely winded at all, but still draped in sweat...
"You're just in time, sir." The flight attendent nodded. As soon as Keith and a few other passengers settled down, the transport took off and headed into space, making the jump into hyperspace ten minutes after.

As the (mostly) Coreidan fleets left for their next sorties, Whitfield and rebel personnel among them, Jedi Whitfield made sure to board the Orca transport carrying the 'Mech he claimed as his own. As he waited for the short ride to Fedawoody Island to conclude, he sensed a semifamiliar presence. A rushed one.

The presence of a mind he had "read" a few days ago, only this time...not empty, aboard a transport to Coredia. A presence that represented a victory over the Dark Side, one that Jedi Whitfield had sorely needed after his early despair.

The battle would nearly certainly come before he arrived. Nevertheless, he would soon be able to see the ressurection that he had started in this man completed.

However, the transport was bound for Coredia, not where he would be. He extracted both the caller for his X-wing and his commlink from the deep and cavernous pockets of his Jedi robe. He realized that he didn't really need the commlink, and stuffed it back in his pocket as he sent a telepathic message to Major Taylor instead...

Please notify the Coredian ground control to expect my X-wing to arrive shortly, to pick up a new arrival from Jurai. The craft will be piloted by my astromech droid.

His caller he still needed. He sent a message to Artoo and instructed him to fly the craft to the same Coredian spaceport for which the transport was bound. For as the former Wraith had known where to go to board the transport with raw guidance from the Force, Whitfield knew exactly where it would land.

As Whitfield climed into his giant 'Mech, and meditated upon the upcoming battle, an X-wing unceremoniously powered up and ascended over Olde Woody City and turned south, on autopilot.

For the Force would soon bring the two together...

Right. Taylor answered and bounced a call to Coredia to let them know to expect the X-wing soon before climbing into his own mech (a Timberwolf model this time). Shortly, an Orca-class Carryall Dropship clamped on to the mech and started lifting off with it, same with the other ones. Those still empty will have the Orcas sit on them in idle until needed.

The transports began lifting off, escorted by the ubiquious LAATs and headed towards Fedawoody Island.

Phase One of the assault will be the carrier-borne aircraft with ground-attack munitions, now just lifting off to conduct strikes on enemy positions at Fedawoody. The fighters screamed into the air, speeding past the transports and began to lock on targets on the ground. As per the plan, they will try to draw the mechs off from the Dropships with the friendly mechs' help.

Phase Two will obviously be the combined sea and land assault that will occur shortly after Phase One concludes the waves of anti-ground assaults.

A few of the nine Sith Wraiths on Fedawoody Island were already engaged in sorties of random terror against a restive populace. As the Coredian air force appeared overhead, they collectively switched targets, their rapid-firing pulse lasers no longer cutting down random people who dared to violate twenty-four hour curfew, but targeted at the Coredian fighters instead.

As three of the mecha were already in the city, they did not move around but randomly, so that they would be a bit harder to hit. They continued to target fighters from more or less their current postion.

More swarms of fighters appeared over the Fedawoody Landing Zone, and the other six Wraiths rushed to their mecha to provide a heavier air defense as a few improvised turrets strained to lock onto the fighters before launching swarms of missiles at them. As the Wraiths powered up their equipment, explosions dotted the ground, taking clusters of stormtroopers with them.

These six Wraiths also opened fire upon the fighters, mostly with pulse lasers but occasionally with well-aimed PPC shots (Ebolus had culled the Wraiths from the country's best pilots, after all). However, the Wraiths mostly conserved their missile ammunition for that which they suspected would soon come.

Explosions flashed across the armor of these six mecha as they turned to engage the traitors and their supporters, however, only the lighter Shadow Cats were significantly damaged, the heavier mecha having enough armor to shrug the various munitions off.

As the Wraiths opened fire, most of the Coredian fighters withdrew to just beyond effective weapons range, their pilots probably having been provided with detailed information about the 'Mechs' capabilities. The Wraiths engaged those few lingering within range, then drifted away, following the fighters...

Several fighters were shot down by the counterattacks, but most of them were tauntingly out of range of the enemy, leading them nicely and slowly away from the dropships. The fighters sent constant telemetry to the transport craft so that they'd know exactly where the targets are at all times.

And then, Phase Two began. Once more, the Mechwarriors dropped on the ground, landing at the northeast corner of the island. Once more, they will begin to face the Wraiths in combat. Now that he knows what to expect, Taylor Masaki will try to target the weapons and legs of the mechas to disable them and have Whitfield free the Wraiths. The others will have to go for the heads as they don't have the knowledge of the Force.

And finally, the battleships and escorts sneaked up on the dropships, preparing to fire their main cannons at them...

The nine Sith Wraiths continued shooting at the fighters within range, with their pulse lasers.

As the Coredian transports disgorged the rebellion mecha, the Wraiths sensed the presence of Whitfield...and Taylor.

And through the Wraiths, Darth Ebolus saw all from his bacta tank. Unfortunately, he was in no condition to initiate another Force war with Taylor when the annoyingly perrenial Jedi Whitfield was present. Nevertheless, he was in a spiteful mood, as always...

...The Wraiths received their orders.

Target Taylor first, then Whitfield.

The Wraiths obediently changed their priority to taking Taylor down, in spite of their overarching programmed hatred of Whitfield, ignoring the fighters, rushing at full throttle to meet the enemy landing. As the nine converged on the enemy beachhead, they focused all of their combined fire on Taylor, launching dark blue bolts of death and spamming the air with swarms of their long-range missiles after acquiring lock on him. (OOC: Lock by no means guarantees a hit, for it has to be maintained for the missile to track the target.) After the Wraiths came into closer range, they also fired sheets of red and green pulse lasers at Taylor, trying to injure him with headshots.

Of course, they met greater enemy fire. As they opened fire, a wall of laser bolts from the LAATs met them, in addition to the fire from the nine assault and heavy assault mecha wading onshore. While headshots were notoriously difficult for those without years and years of specific training and/or non-Jedi, a goodly portion of the shots that the enemy fired did manage to find more heavily-armored sections of the 'Mech, such as the missile racks mounted above and to either side of the cockpit section on the Timber Wolves, or the torso sections to either side or below the cockpit. Most of the 'Mechs reported moderate damage to their armor, but it held, while a couple automatically ejected ammo from their missile racks to prevent internal ammuntion explosion, effectively deactivating their missile capabilities.

Meanwhile, Taylor and Whitfield both shared a hive mind of sorts, targeting the same 'Mech, their particle projector cannons striking the cockpit of one of the larger-variant Timber Wolves, killing the Wraith piloting it instantly.

-------------------

Commander Suskind noted with pleasure that the mobile defenses had been effectively drawn away from the DropShips they were charged with defending, and took a look at the same satellite photos and targeting information that gunners presently used to aim the 16-inch guns of the EWS Justice and her sister ship, the Revenge. Yes, now the enemy mecha were now a full fifteen kilometers away from the DropShips they were supposed to be defending.

He sent a message to Admiral Basque:

To: Admiral Basque
From: Commander Suskind
Subject: Targeting

Due to the tendency of our heavy ballistic weaponry to inflict heavy splash
damage, along with our orders to leave the enemy Mobile Field Base intact for
capture, I will only fire on said DropShips. If you have more precise,
limited-scope weapons to use on the various turret emplacements, you are
welcome to use them, though they will be easy target practice for mecha. It
is the DropShips that the 'MechWarriors would truly have to worry about.

<<END DISPATCH>>

The chief weapons officers reported guns on both battlecruisers ready to fire, aimed precisely at their targets, which would be hard to miss if the main guns were, in fact aimed at all.

A few seconds later, thunderous explosions split the calm air as the two battlecruisers' main guns discharged their ordinance. Not long after, explosions blossomed across the heavy armor of the DropShips...

...The Wraiths received their orders.

Target Taylor first, then Whitfield.

The Wraiths obediently changed their priority to taking Taylor down, in spite of their overarching programmed hatred of Whitfield, ignoring the fighters, rushing at full throttle to meet the enemy landing. As the nine converged on the enemy beachhead, they focused all of their combined fire on Taylor, launching dark blue bolts of death and spamming the air with swarms of their long-range missiles after acquiring lock on him. (OOC: Lock by no means guarantees a hit, for it has to be maintained for the missile to track the target.) After the Wraiths came into closer range, they also fired sheets of red and green pulse lasers at Taylor, trying to injure him with headshots.
Yikes! Whoa! Jeez, I'm too popular here! Taylor dodged their fire, athough he took damage on some parts of the mech and returned fire with his PPCs and pulse lasers, and not to mention a couple of missiles when he got the chance.

Of course, they met greater enemy fire. As they opened fire, a wall of laser bolts from the LAATs met them, in addition to the fire from the nine assault and heavy assault mecha wading onshore. While headshots were notoriously difficult for those without years and years of specific training and/or non-Jedi, a goodly portion of the shots that the enemy fired did manage to find more heavily-armored sections of the 'Mech, such as the missile racks mounted above and to either side of the cockpit section on the Timber Wolves, or the torso sections to either side or below the cockpit. Most of the 'Mechs reported moderate damage to their armor, but it held, while a couple automatically ejected ammo from their missile racks to prevent internal ammuntion explosion, effectively deactivating their missile capabilities.

Meanwhile, Taylor and Whitfield both shared a hive mind of sorts, targeting the same 'Mech, their particle projector cannons striking the cockpit of one of the larger-variant Timber Wolves, killing the Wraith piloting it instantly.
Taylor sighed and began to target another Wraith. Then one of the other mechs began reporting heavy damage and Private Serne was forced to eject. The others tried to fill the gap by concentrating fire on the enemies.

In the meantime, the fighters and LAATs did their best to harass the enemy and keep them occupied so the ground units will have a slightly easier time of defeating the enemy.

-------------------

Commander Suskind noted with pleasure that the mobile defenses had been effectively drawn away from the DropShips they were charged with defending, and took a look at the same satellite photos and targeting information that gunners presently used to aim the 16-inch guns of the EWS Justice and her sister ship, the Revenge. Yes, now the enemy mecha were now a full fifteen kilometers away from the DropShips they were supposed to be defending.

He sent a message to Admiral Basque:

To: Admiral Basque
From: Commander Suskind
Subject: Targeting

Due to the tendency of our heavy ballistic weaponry to inflict heavy splash
damage, along with our orders to leave the enemy Mobile Field Base intact for
capture, I will only fire on said DropShips. If you have more precise,
limited-scope weapons to use on the various turret emplacements, you are
welcome to use them, though they will be easy target practice for mecha. It
is the DropShips that the 'MechWarriors would truly have to worry about.

<<END DISPATCH>>

The chief weapons officers reported guns on both battlecruisers ready to fire, aimed precisely at their targets, which would be hard to miss if the main guns were, in fact aimed at all.

A few seconds later, thunderous explosions split the calm air as the two battlecruisers' main guns discharged their ordinance. Not long after, explosions blossomed across the heavy armor of the DropShips...
Almost immediately after the dispatch was sent, the battleships also began loading their rounds and in a detonation of explosive anger, blasted out the shells at the dropships, followed up by several missiles from the cruisers.

Yikes! Whoa! Jeez, I'm too popular here! Taylor dodged their fire, athough he took damage on some parts of the mech and returned fire with his PPCs and pulse lasers, and not to mention a couple of missiles when he got the chance.

Taylor sighed and began to target another Wraith. Then one of the other mechs began reporting heavy damage and Private Serne was forced to eject. The others tried to fill the gap by concentrating fire on the enemies.

In the meantime, the fighters and LAATs did their best to harass the enemy and keep them occupied so the ground units will have a slightly easier time of defeating the enemy.

The Dark Lord was most displeased by the dispersed firepower, and moved to reinstill discipline in his slaves. Concentrate exclusively upon Taylor until he falls! Then move to Whitfield.

The Wraiths responded by seeking out Taylor and felt waves of dark energy flowing through them, steadying their aim. Their 'Mechs spewed forth a new round of particle projector cannons as their slave pilots flushed their coolant systems to unleash another round of missiles at him, not to mention continuing to fire at Taylor with their pulse lasers, trying to appease the Dark Lord with headshots on his chosen target.

As Whitfield and Taylor brought down another heavy-assault enemy with combined, deadly accurate fire, the fire from the other 'MechWarriors, and LAATs, managed another, messier kill. A Timber Wolf IVC (the eighty-ton variant) exploded in a ball of flame with a blast radius of about fifty meters as its reactor succumbed to their fire, doing minor splash-damage to a Wraith Shadow Cat in the process.

Almost immediately after the dispatch was sent, the battleships also began loading their rounds and in a detonation of explosive anger, blasted out the shells at the dropships, followed up by several missiles from the cruisers.

The DropShips absorbed the first few rounds of enemy fire, but after the combined rebel and Coredian fleet had fired about four rounds, the first one collapsed. The other two would come soon after. Of course, the enemy fleet was out of range of their weapons, so their eventual destruction was, at this point, a foregone conclusion...

The Dark Lord was most displeased by the dispersed firepower, and moved to reinstill discipline in his slaves. Concentrate exclusively upon Taylor until he falls! Then move to Whitfield.

The Wraiths responded by seeking out Taylor and felt waves of dark energy flowing through them, steadying their aim. Their 'Mechs spewed forth a new round of particle projector cannons as their slave pilots flushed their coolant systems to unleash another round of missiles at him, not to mention continuing to fire at Taylor with their pulse lasers, trying to appease the Dark Lord with headshots on his chosen target.
A laser burned uncomfortably close to Taylor's cockpit, weakening the armor of the mecha. Sheesh. Too close.

In the midst of dodging PPC fire, Taylor tried to conduct another Fusion Overload on one of the mechs.

As Whitfield and Taylor brought down another heavy-assault enemy with combined, deadly accurate fire, the fire from the other 'MechWarriors, and LAATs, managed another, messier kill. A Timber Wolf IVC (the eighty-ton variant) exploded in a ball of flame with a blast radius of about fifty meters as its reactor succumbed to their fire, doing minor splash-damage to a Wraith Shadow Cat in the process.
"Switch targets." Sergeant Ross ordered. "Mark...Fire!"

A concentrated round of PPCs was sent to the injured Shadow Cat and pulse lasers went after another mech along with LAAT beamlaser fire.

The DropShips absorbed the first few rounds of enemy fire, but after the combined rebel and Coredian fleet had fired about four rounds, the first one collapsed. The other two would come soon after. Of course, the enemy fleet was out of range of their weapons, so their eventual destruction was, at this point, a foregone conclusion...
After the first Dropship was destroyed, it was merely a matter of adjusting the aim of the main cannons before a second volley boomed, shaking the bridges.

A laser burned uncomfortably close to Taylor's cockpit, weakening the armor of the mecha. Sheesh. Too close.

In the midst of dodging PPC fire, Taylor tried to conduct another Fusion Overload on one of the mechs.

"Switch targets." Sergeant Ross ordered. "Mark...Fire!"

A concentrated round of PPCs was sent to the injured Shadow Cat and pulse lasers went after another mech along with LAAT beamlaser fire.

The Dark Lord would not settle for Taylor simply running around dodging fire. If Taylor would not convert, the Dark Lord wanted him dead. As such, the Wraiths continued to direct all their fire at him, their aim aided by the Dark Lord himself...

Meanwhile, the damaged Shadow Cat, being the lightest 'Mech class in the group, tried to evade enemy fire by running around the battlefield at full throttle, or about a hundred fifty kilometers per hour, and while most of the fire missed, enough of it connected to finish off the 'Mech. Meanwhile, Taylor succeeded in "spontaneously" spiking the heat in the last 120-ton Timber Wolf IVC. Its pilot flushed all remaining coolant to buy time, then knowing from Sith Wraith hive mind experience what was about to happen, proceeded full speed towards Taylor, hoping to catch him in the blast radius when his reactor went critical. He would only have a few seconds...

Meanwhile, more laser fire splattered against the armor of an eighty-ton Timber Wolf. Whitfield sent a round of blue particle projector cannon energy into the 'Mech's cockpit, injuring the Wraith inside, but he was running into heat problems...

...He flushed coolant and fired more pulse lasers at his target, then completed the kill when the particle projector cannons were ready to fire.

After the first Dropship was destroyed, it was merely a matter of adjusting the aim of the main cannons before a second volley boomed, shaking the bridges.

The second DropShip, already heavily damaged by the fire from the two old rebellion battlecruisers, succumbed to the combined volley, while the Justice and Revenge unloaded their anger at the third.

The Dark Lord would not settle for Taylor simply running around dodging fire. If Taylor would not convert, the Dark Lord wanted him dead. As such, the Wraiths continued to direct all their fire at him, their aim aided by the Dark Lord himself...

Meanwhile, the damaged Shadow Cat, being the lightest 'Mech class in the group, tried to evade enemy fire by running around the battlefield at full throttle, or about a hundred fifty kilometers per hour, and while most of the fire missed, enough of it connected to finish off the 'Mech. Meanwhile, Taylor succeeded in "spontaneously" spiking the heat in the last 120-ton Timber Wolf IVC. Its pilot flushed all remaining coolant to buy time, then knowing from Sith Wraith hive mind experience what was about to happen, proceeded full speed towards Taylor, hoping to catch him in the blast radius when his reactor went critical. He would only have a few seconds...
A warning alarm came to Taylor as his armor was getting increasingly damaged, and one of his legs wasn't working properly. Then he saw a 120 ton mecha barrelling down on him.

"Shit!" He cursed. He pulled off his helmet by impulse and teleported out of the mecha with a familiar *crack* as the other got inside the blast radius and detonated. He found himself outside on the snow and Mouko came by with a roar to pick him up. "How many was it...three times?"

The other mechas continued to fire their weapons at the enemy.



The second DropShip, already heavily damaged by the fire from the two old rebellion battlecruisers, succumbed to the combined volley, while the Justice and Revenge unloaded their anger at the third.
"One last time! Fire!" The battleships' respective captains ordered. And one more time did a volley unleash it's fury on the last dropship.

A warning alarm came to Taylor as his armor was getting increasingly damaged, and one of his legs wasn't working properly. Then he saw a 120 mecha barrelling down on him.

"Shit!" He cursed. He pulled off his helmet by impulse and teleported out of the mecha with a familiar *crack* as the other got inside the blast radius and detonated. He found himself outside on the snow and Mouko came by with a roar to pick him up. "How many was it...three times?"

The other mechas continued to fire their weapons at the enemy.

While Taylor might have had a split-second luxury of thinking he had escaped, his escape did attract the Dark Lord's notice. For through his Wraiths, he still sensed him, climbing the catlike 'Mech he called Mouko, which would be considered a light scout 'Mech by Woodian standards.

The Dark Lord therefore seethed with anger, for he would not be denied. And through anger, a Sith Lord gains focus.

Continue to concentrate all firepower upon Taylor. I will not be denied.

The Dark Lord's anger and wrath manifested itself in the accuracy of his proxies' gunnery.

The last heavy 'Mech in the group fired every weapon, all at once, at Mouko, its pilot so focused by Ebolus' influence that his aim would be almost identical to that of Whitfield, before Whitfield himself fired enough ordinance into the cockpit to kill him. The Wraith's 'Mech fell backwards, still nearly in perfect condition. Most of the cockpit instrumentation hadn't even been destroyed, the only damage being a hole blasted/melted in the cockpit viewport, and a slagged pilot's seat.

That left only two Shadow Cats, and while they were not as heavy as the other mecha, they still packed a punch worth firing at Taylor--a particle projection cannon each, and the Wraiths fired them with a single purpose--killing Taylor, because he did not join them in bondage to the Dark Lord.

Both remaining Shadow Cats staggered under the combined fire of the Coredian forces. But the will of the Master would not be denied.

"One last time! Fire!" The battleships' respective captains ordered. And one more time did a volley unleash it's fury on the last dropship.

The Justice and Revenge fired their guns for the last time of this day as the third and final DropShip succumbed. The token defenses, mostly turrets, left would be left to the land forces...

While Taylor might have had a split-second luxury of thinking he had escaped, his escape did attract the Dark Lord's notice. For through his Wraiths, he still sensed him, climbing the catlike 'Mech he called Mouko, which would be considered a light scout 'Mech by Woodian standards.

The Dark Lord therefore seethed with anger, for he would not be denied. And through anger, a Sith Lord gains focus.

Continue to concentrate all firepower upon Taylor. I will not be denied.

The Dark Lord's anger and wrath manifested itself in the accuracy of his proxies' gunnery.

The last heavy 'Mech in the group fired every weapon, all at once, at Mouko, its pilot so focused by Ebolus' influence that his aim would be almost identical to that of Whitfield, before Whitfield himself fired enough ordinance into the cockpit to kill him. The Wraith's 'Mech fell backwards, still nearly in perfect condition. Most of the cockpit instrumentation hadn't even been destroyed, the only damage being a hole blasted/melted in the cockpit viewport, and a slagged pilot's seat.
Now linked with his own mech, Taylor sent one command into its 'brain'. Move.

And move Mouko surely did. It dodged the fire of the last heavy mech, the heat of the PPC bolts' passing hot enough to singe its fur and Taylor's hair. Lasers were reflected by his lightsaber, though it was tough. A Godulan-made assault blaster opened up to counter incoming missiles until Whitfield destroyed the Mech.

That left only two Shadow Cats, and while they were not as heavy as the other mecha, they still packed a punch worth firing at Taylor--a particle projection cannon each, and the Wraiths fired them with a single purpose--killing Taylor, because he did not join them in bondage to the Dark Lord.

Both remaining Shadow Cats staggered under the combined fire of the Coredian forces. But the will of the Master would not be denied.
In focusing completely on Taylor, the Shadow Cats have forgotten Mouko's personal pack, two other cats charging at the rears and leaping on them to slash and bite with monomolecular claws and teeth, then fill the holes with blazing flamethrowers before leaping away to let the Coredian forces finish it off.

Mouko lept away from the blasts of the PPCs with all the grace it mustered of being a giant feline, it's tail almost burning right off. It's primary mission now was keeping its master safe and that's all that mattered.

"Sheesh. You're good." Taylor grinned.

The cat seemed to growl a thanks in reply.

The Dark Lord seethed in anger as Taylor's new 'Mech managed to somehow dodge the enemy fire. While it lacked long-distance firepower of its own, it was nearly twice as maneuverable as the most agile design Evil Woody Thoughts could produce.

Whitfield sent head shots into one of the last remaining Shadow Cats while the relatively raw Coredian 'MechWarriors managed to peel off chunks of the other's armor, until finally, it succumbed to one last burst of fire, the last Sith Wraith on Fedawoody Island dead from the resulting reactor explosion.

The rebellion will pay for this. The Woodian Archipelago will be rendered so geologically unstable, it will be nearly uninhabitable for a hundred million years.

Only Darth Ebolus would have to wait a few more hours, as he stewed in the bacta tank, still recovering from his back injuries. Damn Whitfield.

-----------------------

As the last Wraith fell in battle, Whitfield decided it was time to investigate the DropShips. He made it clear to the Coredians that he wished to go alone, to prevent collateral damage to salvageable equipment, and turned the 'Mech to the west as it ran off at full throttle.

Until he was about a kilometer and a half from the landing zone, at which point the time came to fry himself a few turrets. They responded by firing missiles at him, but not anything that his anti-missile system, combined with armor nearly completely unscathed by the earlier battle, couldn't handle.

After all the turrets were dealt with, once again his heavy-assault 'Mech found itself at full throttle, shaking the earth a bit as it announced its presence to the remaining stormtrooper contingent with a burst of pulse laser fire. As most of the stormtroopers were already dead from the other airstrikes, he finished the rest off quite quickly.

While his armor was barely scratched, he could use an ammo reload for the missiles, so he approached the enemy Mobile Field Base, sensing no one. As he entered the hangarlike repair facility, he shut down his 'Mech, and the contraption's entrances automatically slid shut.

A few seconds later, he powered back up again and radioed the Coredians. "We have enemy base capture."

OOC: The Wraiths should be arriving at Jurai soon, and the transport bearing Keith Allaire should also be arriving on Earth fairly soon, as well.

The Dark Lord seethed in anger as Taylor's new 'Mech managed to somehow dodge the enemy fire. While it lacked long-distance firepower of its own, it was nearly twice as maneuverable as the most agile design Evil Woody Thoughts could produce.

Whitfield sent head shots into one of the last remaining Shadow Cats while the relatively raw Coredian 'MechWarriors managed to peel off chunks of the other's armor, until finally, it succumbed to one last burst of fire, the last Sith Wraith on Fedawoody Island dead from the resulting reactor explosion.

The rebellion will pay for this. The Woodian Archipelago will be rendered so geologically unstable, it will be nearly uninhabitable for a hundred million years.

Only Darth Ebolus would have to wait a few more hours, as he stewed in the bacta tank, still recovering from his back injuries. Damn Whitfield.

Taylor, however, wasn't finished yet. He had Mouko and the cougar wolfpacks, followed by infantry backup, charge forth into the city itself to finish off stragglers and finally free the third and last city before the main campaign begins.

-----------------------

As the last Wraith fell in battle, Whitfield decided it was time to investigate the DropShips. He made it clear to the Coredians that he wished to go alone, to prevent collateral damage to salvageable equipment, and turned the 'Mech to the west as it ran off at full throttle.

Until he was about a kilometer and a half from the landing zone, at which point the time came to fry himself a few turrets. They responded by firing missiles at him, but not anything that his anti-missile system, combined with armor nearly completely unscathed by the earlier battle, couldn't handle.

After all the turrets were dealt with, once again his heavy-assault 'Mech found itself at full throttle, shaking the earth a bit as it announced its presence to the remaining stormtrooper contingent with a burst of pulse laser fire. As most of the stormtroopers were already dead from the other airstrikes, he finished the rest off quite quickly.

While his armor was barely scratched, he could use an ammo reload for the missiles, so he approached the enemy Mobile Field Base, sensing no one. As he entered the hangarlike repair facility, he shut down his 'Mech, and the contraption's entrances automatically slid shut.

A few seconds later, he powered back up again and radioed the Coredians. "We have enemy base capture."

OOC: The Wraiths should be arriving at Jurai soon, and the transport bearing Keith Allaire should also be arriving on Earth fairly soon, as well.
The Colonel was pleased as he landed near the captured base. "Well, that's that for now."

Meanwhile, the transport bearing the former wraiths landed at the Jedi Temple and the Wraiths were ushered to the neurology wards. Now that they knew the extent of the damage and how much time is needed to heal, the other neurologists, along with Tsunade's apprentice Sakura who just arrived to help her sensei, would do everything in their power to bring the wraiths back to relatively sane status. Tsunade herself dozed off for a little while to give herself rest while the other medics did their job.

As for Keith, he's now about half-an-hour from landing as the transport reverted to realspace over Earth.

The Dark Lord seethed in anger as Taylor's new 'Mech managed to somehow dodge the enemy fire. While it lacked long-distance firepower of its own, it was nearly twice as maneuverable as the most agile design Evil Woody Thoughts could produce.

Whitfield sent head shots into one of the last remaining Shadow Cats while the relatively raw Coredian 'MechWarriors managed to peel off chunks of the other's armor, until finally, it succumbed to one last burst of fire, the last Sith Wraith on Fedawoody Island dead from the resulting reactor explosion.

The rebellion will pay for this. The Woodian Archipelago will be rendered so geologically unstable, it will be nearly uninhabitable for a hundred million years.

Only Darth Ebolus would have to wait a few more hours, as he stewed in the bacta tank, still recovering from his back injuries. Damn Whitfield.

Taylor headed into the city itself to make sure that there's no more enemy stormtroopers.

-----------------------

As the last Wraith fell in battle, Whitfield decided it was time to investigate the DropShips. He made it clear to the Coredians that he wished to go alone, to prevent collateral damage to salvageable equipment, and turned the 'Mech to the west as it ran off at full throttle.

Until he was about a kilometer and a half from the landing zone, at which point the time came to fry himself a few turrets. They responded by firing missiles at him, but not anything that his anti-missile system, combined with armor nearly completely unscathed by the earlier battle, couldn't handle.

After all the turrets were dealt with, once again his heavy-assault 'Mech found itself at full throttle, shaking the earth a bit as it announced its presence to the remaining stormtrooper contingent with a burst of pulse laser fire. As most of the stormtroopers were already dead from the other airstrikes, he finished the rest off quite quickly.

While his armor was barely scratched, he could use an ammo reload for the missiles, so he approached the enemy Mobile Field Base, sensing no one. As he entered the hangarlike repair facility, he shut down his 'Mech, and the contraption's entrances automatically slid shut.

A few seconds later, he powered back up again and radioed the Coredians. "We have enemy base capture."

OOC: The Wraiths should be arriving at Jurai soon, and the transport bearing Keith Allaire should also be arriving on Earth fairly soon, as well.
The Colonel was pleased as he landed near the captured base. "Well, that's that for now."

Meanwhile, the transport bearing the former wraiths landed at the Jedi Temple and the Wraiths were ushered to the neurology wards. Now that they knew the extent of the damage and how much time is needed to heal, the other neurologists, along with Tsunade's apprentice Sakura who just arrived to help her sensei, would do everything in their power to bring the wraiths back to relatively sane status. Tsunade herself dozed off for a little while to give herself rest while the other medics did their job.

As for Keith, he was half-an-hour from landing as the transport just reverted to realspace and descended to Earth.

Taylor headed into the city itself to make sure that there's no more enemy stormtroopers.

-----------------------

The Colonel was pleased as he landed near the captured base. "Well, that's that for now."

Taylor would find no stormtroopers in the city, for Whitfield had just dealt with them all. He only found a few random civilians wandering around, trying to find out what the hell was going on, but most of the civilian population was too afraid to dare venture out of their homes after a few days of Sith Wraith terror.

The large segment of the population who still thought that Sith martial law ruled would have to learn otherwise through their televisions or radios. The Wraiths had previously disabled Holonet access for the entire island, except for the military, to enforce a news blackout.

Meanwhile, Whitfield sensed the collective fear of the civilian populace, and requested that salvage operations be conducted as soon as possible...

As for Keith, he was half-an-hour from landing as the transport just reverted to realspace and descended to Earth.

Keith looked out of his viewport, and laid his eyes upon Earth, not knowing if he had been here before the Dark Lord's invasion, or not. He had the feeling that he had just missed out on something...

Meanwhile, the transport bearing the former wraiths landed at the Jedi Temple and the Wraiths were ushered to the neurology wards. Now that they knew the extent of the damage and how much time is needed to heal, the other neurologists, along with Tsunade's apprentice Sakura who just arrived to help her sensei, would do everything in their power to bring the wraiths back to relatively sane status. Tsunade herself dozed off for a little while to give herself rest while the other medics did their job.

The five Wraiths were just as delerious and braindead as Keith had been when he arrived at the neurology ward, and simply let Tsunade's apprentices and medics do that which was necessary, though it would probably take longer. It wasn't like they had a choice in the matter, for they couldn't even begin to comprehend choices at this point.

Taylor would find no stormtroopers in the city, for Whitfield had just dealt with them all. He only found a few random civilians wandering around, trying to find out what the hell was going on, but most of the civilian population was too afraid to dare venture out of their homes after a few days of Sith Wraith terror.

The large segment of the population who still thought that Sith martial law ruled would have to learn otherwise through their televisions or radios. The Wraiths had previously disabled Holonet access for the entire island, except for the military, to enforce a news blackout.

Meanwhile, Whitfield sensed the collective fear of the civilian populace, and requested that salvage operations be conducted as soon as possible...
Hmm. I wonder how to let people know they're free? Taylor asked himself. Dismounting his cougar, the Jedi walked to a civilian. He seemed fearful but Taylor soothed him with the Force. "Find everyone you know. Spread the word that the Sith no longer rules this city. It is now free."

Saying the same words to the other citizens, Taylor hoped word-by-mouth would work.

Meanwhile, the salvage operations began soon after the rest of the army landed.

Keith looked out of his viewport, and laid his eyes upon Earth, not knowing if he had been here before the Dark Lord's invasion, or not. He had the feeling that he had just missed out on something...
The transport soon landed and people began disembarking.

The five Wraiths were just as delerious and braindead as Keith had been when he arrived at the neurology ward, and simply let Tsunade's apprentices and medics do that which was necessary, though it would probably take longer. It wasn't like they had a choice in the matter, for they couldn't even begin to comprehend choices at this point.

The medics under Sakura began to perform the same surgery the Master Medic conducted on Keith. Being less experienced, it will take a while before the former Wraiths would be able to remember their own names.

Hmm. I wonder how to let people know they're free? Taylor asked himself. Dismounting his cougar, the Jedi walked to a civilian. He seemed fearful but Taylor soothed him with the Force. "Find everyone you know. Spread the word that the Sith no longer rules this city. It is now free."

Saying the same words to the other citizens, Taylor hoped word-by-mouth would work.

The young man backed away from Taylor, surprised that he hadn't been sliced in half by one of those lightswords that the Wraiths carried, or for that matter, simply been beaten into the ground and left to die. The terror had made him so paranoid that he suspected Taylor's attempts to soothe him were Sith mind tricks for a few seconds--a few days ago, he had heard rumors that the Wraiths mindraped his next-door neighbor for entertainment.

Nevertheless, Taylor was not like them. It took a bit longer than Taylor would have expected, or maybe even liked, but eventually he succeeded in convincing the man that he was not here to hurt him.

However, the man was still nervous that the Sith would somehow come back, as they had been sent after the local garrison had been overthrown weeks earlier. Nevertheless, he went to tell his neighbors that the new army in town was not of the dark one, still fearing possible consequences of telling more.

Some thirty miles away, Commander Suskind sent news from the EWS Justice of the liberation to the newly emerging independent news agencies in Free Woody Thoughts, while he ordered rebel technicians to reenable the Holonet. Within a few hours, the good news would be broadcast to those too afraid to venture out who hadn't yet been visited by neighbors.

The transport soon landed and people began disembarking.

As Keith disembarked from the transport, he started walking in some random direction, without really knowing why. A few minutes later, he came upon Whitfield's X-wing; he for some reason wanted to board it, but didn't dare to actually do it.

As if to answer his concerns, the old R2 droid in the fighter's droid socket lifted up the cockpit canopy and beeped frantically at him. The young man had no idea what the droid was trying to say, but he took the opening of the canopy to mean that the craft had been sent to meet him. Therefore, he climbed in, perusing the controls.

After he climbed in, a question scrolled across the droid interface screen, asking him who owned the fighter. Keith realized that the one who had freed him of the Dark Lord had also sent this craft to meet him.

"Whitfield."

The droid responded simply by closing the canopy and taking off. The X-wing set itself to a northwesterly course, bound for Fedawoody Island.

The young man backed away from Taylor, surprised that he hadn't been sliced in half by one of those lightswords that the Wraiths carried, or for that matter, simply been beaten into the ground and left to die. The terror had made him so paranoid that he suspected Taylor's attempts to soothe him were Sith mind tricks for a few seconds--a few days ago, he had heard rumors that the Wraiths mindraped his next-door neighbor for entertainment.

Nevertheless, Taylor was not like them. It took a bit longer than Taylor would have expected, or maybe even liked, but eventually he succeeded in convincing the man that he was not here to hurt him.

However, the man was still nervous that the Sith would somehow come back, as they had been sent after the local garrison had been overthrown weeks earlier. Nevertheless, he went to tell his neighbors that the new army in town was not of the dark one, still fearing possible consequences of telling more.
For all of Taylor's hotheadedness, he still had a soft spot for the terrorized and oppressed and took it upon himself to tell as many of the people loitering around outside as he could that the Sith really are gone and included Whitfield's name in subsequent hushes of words.

Whitfield, sensing that his presence would be beneficial inside the city, activated the homing function on his caller before entering it to rendezvous with Taylor. He sensed that a large segment of the populace would need to see him before they would believe Taylor's soothing words...

When he reached the city's outskirts, he disembarked from his 'Mech, knowing it would probably scare people away, and walked through the city, in the general direction of Taylor, advertising his presence to anyone who would listen along the way. As firsthand accounts of his presence began to circulate among the populace, a few more people found themselves willing to venture out and enjoy the end of martial law.

Meanwhile, the R2 unit piloting Whitfield's X-wing homed in on the caller's signal, bringing the fighter to land in a nearby park that only now showed any signs of life, other than plant life. Moreover, Whitfield sensed a familiar presence in the craft, as he had expected, and turned around to meet it.

A twenty-something young man climbed out, slightly taller than Jedi Whitfield, and far more heavily built. The sandy-haired Keith Allaire strode towards Whitfield, his new Jedi robes blowing in the light wind, his short-cut hair, not so much, his skin somewhat paler than it had been two months ago, mostly an aftereffect of the Dark Side's former influence that would probably remedy itself next summer. Moreover, he knew perfectly well the person he was meeting, or at least enough to recognize and identify him. "So, you are the Jedi Whitfield, the one who freed me of the Dark Lord, no?" He reached out to shake Whitfield's hand.

Whitfield felt his knuckles crack under Keith's handshake. Owww... Nevertheless, he kept it to himself as he greeted the young man and answered his question. "Yes, I am Jedi Whitfield, and I have looked forward to meeting you. Can you remember what your name is now? Your given name?" As he withdrew his hand, he looked down, and saw a pink hand that looked a bit like raw meat.

"I'm Keith Allaire, and I have wished to meet you ever since I got out of the neurology ward, even before." As he noticed the condition of Whitfield's hand, he added, somewhat embarrassed, "Uh, sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it--it's much better to see you truly free, and not just a zombie. Come, I know somebody else you'll want to meet, somebody who will probably be a bit more appreciative of your handshakes."

Keith grinned as Whitfield led him towards Taylor, advertising his presence to the locals and trying to calm them along the way.

"Oh, hello." Taylor said. "You're one of the freed ones, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Keith found himself looking down at Taylor to make eye contact. "Are you the person who Whitfield wanted me to meet?"

Knowing Taylor didn't particularly care for political formalities, Whitfield left the two to introduce themselves. And he did hope they wouldn't kill each other in the process...

For some reason, Keith thought of his former rank held before the purges. Maybe it was because he read Taylor's insignia, and it reminded him of his own. He really didn't know.

He added to his earlier 'introduction' as he offered his hand for a handshake. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Allaire of Evil Woody Thoughts..." He wondered if the rebellion would recognize his commission. "You may call me Keith. And what may I call you, Major?"

Meanwhile, the first news reports of Fedawoody Island's liberation trickled into the hermitic households, causing the members of said households to look out the windows and notice that people were actually out in the streets, a few even conversing amongst themselves, without getting shot for it. More people trickled out from their homes, and some started arranging block parties for later that afternoon...

"Just Taylor." Taylor wasn't happy about the fact that the Lt. Colonel has a good ten inches on him in height. But in the interests of being nice, he let it slide. "So, uh, how are you?"

"Uh, other than not being able to remember a damned thing from before I joined the military, I'm fine." Keith withdrew his extended hand, which apparently Taylor had failed to notice. He felt that there was something about him that Taylor just didn't like, but kept quiet about it for now...

"Well, we just finished up a little battle here." Taylor looked around. "Seems to me the people are getting happier by the minute..."

Keith still couldn't dispel the notion that, somehow, Taylor didn't like him. Perhaps, were his untrained senses more attuned, he would figure out why. But, such things were out of his control. He thought for a moment as he chewed on Taylor's words. "Yeah, I knew I missed something..."

Well, it isn't as if military officers should really care about their approval ratings anyway, unless they have some pretty damn severe morale problems to worry about...

"So, when do I get a chance to participate in said battles?"

Whitfield answered before Taylor could. "Soon enough, my friend." Despite the prevailing good mood enjoyed by everybody, it seemed, but perhaps Keith, who seemed somehow irked by Taylor, or vice versa, Whitfield was starting to get a bad feeling...

"Anyway, the Colonel will be wanting to know what's up next." Taylor said to Whitfield. "I figure we have at least one more landing-zone to go, right?"

"Yes, three down and one to go, about two hundred thirty nautical miles northeast. Let's find the Colonel and talk to him, and see how quickly we can get out of here. Our work here, logistical preparations excepted, seems to be finished. I have a bad feeling, though, can't really identify it. And it's not for lack of trying."

Keith seemed somewhat relieved that he would get to fight against the illegitmate government after all, though he didn't like that "bad feeling" stuff one bit...

"Alright. Let's get going." Taylor nodded. He mounted Mouko and headed back to the base camp.

Whitfield shook his head. Taylor was in such a rush that he had just left Keith and the old Jedi standing there, the X-wing a little over a mile away, and Whitfield's 'Mech three miles away. For he had walked from the outskirts of town, and had walked with Keith from the park where the X-wing had landed to find Taylor.

As Keith silently fumed at what he perceived as an insult, Whitfield let out a loud sigh. "Reckless is he. Patience he must learn." As Whitfield sensed Keith's own mental profanity, he added, "Calm down, Keith. Anger leads to the Dark Side--and you know from painful experience where that path leads."

Keith sighed, as he grudgingly acknowledged the wisdom of the elder Jedi.

Whitfield thought for a moment. Well, if Taylor's in such a hurry, he will have to learn patience the hard way and wait for us...hmm...the seven or so miles to base camp is about a two-hour walk.

The two started to walk towards base camp, young Keith following Whitfield. Their silence was broken only by Whitfield's instruction. "If he returns wondering where we've been, let me handle it."

"Yes, sir."

About halfway to the base camp, Taylor realized that he left Whitfield and Keith in the snow and headed back to them. "Whoops. Heh. Sorry about that. Need a ride?" Mouko lowered itself to the ground for the two.

Neither Keith Allaire nor Jedi Whitfield found Taylor's attempts to cover up his impatience amusing. The elder Whitfield answered Taylor, "No, thanks, we're not in a hurry, and happen to like cold weather," hoping he would get the hint...

One way or another, Taylor will have more patience when the war ended compared to when it began, Whitfield silently vowed to himself. Taylor would just have to wait for the two of them to arrive at base camp the old fashioned way...

...Though both Whitfield and his attachment did like cold weather.

"Oh. I guess if you want to go through two hours' worth of snow and cold weather, be my guest." Taylor shrugged. Your loss...

Taylor headed back to base and waited the next two hours with impatience for the other two to come by.

Whitfield sighed again as Taylor left. He hadn't gotten the hint that had he not been so impatient in the first place, all would have been better off. Impossible to teach Taylor anything, unless it's a new way to blow something up. I'll have to see if I can get the Council to have him hand count every single ballot in the postwar elections, if that's what it takes to teach him patience...

Whitfield's musings were interrupted by a snowball to the face, as Keith tried to lighten the mood a bit. Whitfield smiled. A long time since I've had a snowball fight...

Taylor would have to wait some more, as Keith and the Jedi furiously threw snowballs at each other on the way back to base camp.

Three hours instead of the expected two, to be exact.

By the time they did get back, Taylor was not happy. "Jeez. I expected two hours, not three! What took you two so long?"

The Colonel was quite amused at Taylor's impatience.

Whitfield brushed some snow off his robe as he told Taylor, as if lecturing a child, "Keith and I decided to have a bit of fun along the way." Apparently, he still hadn't gotten the point.

Keith found it impossible to suppress snickers at Taylor's impatience. While he wasn't exactly one to watch paint dry, he knew he wasn't this bad.

"Oh. Having fun." Taylor sighed. "If that's all, then would you please start getting back on track with the next island?"

This time, it was Keith, not Whitfield, who let out the sigh. "Taylor, if you hadn't been so impatient to leave us standing in the middle of the road in the first place, we wouldn't have put you through three hours of waiting."

"You would do well to listen to Keith, Taylor," Whitfield added, hoping by now his point would be crystal clear, for it seemed Taylor refused to draw inferences. Hopefully, Colonel Hughes had taken some initiative while the two were gone, for Taylor had no doubt been complaining to him the entire time. "Oh, Colonel Hughes, here is a perfect example of why I went insane the other day. Meet Lieutenant Colonel Keith Allaire. And I do hope that logistical preparations have already begun, considering I'm sure Taylor warned you I would be a while, and certainly complained about it nonstop until we got here."

"How do you do, Lt. Colonel? I'm Colonel Hughes, commander of the army liberating these islands. I've taken the liberty of doing the preparations during the past few hours." The Colonel glanced at Taylor, who merely looked away, feeling chastened by his lack of patience. "I've had a little help."

Then the Colonel noticed a little tension between Taylor and Keith. "If he dislikes you, it's simply because he's touchy about being almost as short as some of the newest troopers."

"How dare you call me short enough to fit in a crack that not even roaches will squeeze through!" Taylor muttered irritably. At least he's not yelling like he usually does. He appears to be mellowing out, slowly but surely.

"I didn't say that much, Major." Colonel Hughes tried and failed to contain a grin and shook his head. He does have much patience to learn. He continued speaking to Keith. "Just don't needle him about it and you'll be fine."

"I haven't been needling him about it, but he still seems to dislike me, Colonel," Keith said, adding, "even before the two of us conspired to make him wait."

Whitfield changed the subject before Taylor could deliver additional comments on the matter. "Colonel, I will be flying my X-wing out to be stored on one of our battlecruisers. I have one of those bad feelings, and it doesn't concern Taylor. Suffice it to say that all Coredia should be at maximum readiness, but I don't really know why...

...That said, how soon can we get out of here?" Whitfield asked as he activated the caller for his X-wing and gave Artoo-Defour directions to move the craft.

"He's just not much of a people person." The Colonel said to Keith. As for Whitfield... "I'll be sure to let the Admiral know to keep on alert for anything, but it seems rather vague if you ask me. We'll start leaving in fifteen minutes or so, after we plan out how to take on Port Woody."

"Same plan as last time, but different locations," Whitfield answered the Colonel. "Differences in locations will become immediately obvious once you have the map--and you will have it shortly. Try to lure the enemy to the uninhabited south, sparsely inhabited. We didn't really have that luxury this time. Purple lines indicate Port Woody city limits, though it has a few suburbs which you'll be able to see."

Almost as if on cue, a map, satellite photo taken from before the snowstorm but nevertheless with the necessary information overlaid, downloaded itself to the Colonel's datapad:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/chair094/portwoodyisland.jpg

"Let's roll, Colonel."

------------------------------------

Secret IC

Meanwhile, on White Diamond, Darth Ebolus finally completed his bacta tank treatment for back injuries. The time for my revenge is come...

After he was discharged from the "private treatment facility," he wasted no time in perusing old records. Records that had gone unnoticed, records that indicated where Evil Woody Thoughts' old earthquake missiles were stored. He found 336 of them on Woodyeen Island.

Perfect. Of course, as Emperor, he did have access to the access codes, or rather, he had mindraped them from those who did during the purges.

He transmitted a signed, heavily encrypted executive order to the Earth command on Woodyeen Island, ordering their deployment against the rebellion, immediately. However, he did recognize that it would take a couple of hours or so to reprogram the targeting information on the missiles, because they had been aimed at various tinfoil dictatorships scattered throughout the world.

Such things did not matter. Either way, the rebellion would get crushed, if not by the military, by simple geology.

Darth Ebolus would have his revenge.

"Same plan as last time, but different locations," Whitfield answered the Colonel. "Differences in locations will become immediately obvious once you have the map--and you will have it shortly. Try to lure the enemy to the uninhabited south, sparsely inhabited. We didn't really have that luxury this time. Purple lines indicate Port Woody city limits, though it has a few suburbs which you'll be able to see."

Almost as if on cue, a map, satellite photo taken from before the snowstorm but nevertheless with the necessary information overlaid, downloaded itself to the Colonel's datapad:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/chair094/portwoodyisland.jpg

"Let's roll, Colonel."

"Indeed. Let's go." Now that the plan has been readied, the sea fleet started steaming for the island and then the air fleet once more (having refueled on the carriers) took to the skies with the land forces snug in the dropships and assault gunships.

The fight will be assumed to be the toughest yet, but no one would yet realize what was to come very soon...

Whitfield stepped onto one of the Orca transports, the one with his 'Mech in it, and assigned one of the newly salvaged and repaired Timber Wolf IIICs to Keith Allaire, who felt quite at home with said assignment. His eyes gleamed with anticipation of live battle, what he had lived for in the military all this time, without the Dark Lord pulling his strings as if he was a puppet.

However, the battle would not be what the young one expected...

11 August 2078
Woodyeen Island Missile Silos
2236 GMT -2

At last, the rewiring work of the technicians, who had been forced through mindrape to swear loyalty to the Dark Lord a month before, was completed. Each missile in the Woodyeen stockpile now had a destination controlled by Free Woody Thoughts in the computer, including Fedawoody Island. Each major rebellion-controlled city-state had no less than twenty tectonic missiles aimed at the mountains and dormant volcanoes closest to them, for they were geologic weak spots, weak spots through which the warheads' effectiveness would be magnified.

This night, a new fault line would be violently ripped across the Middle North Atlantic, a new volcanic "Line of Fire."

This night, the rebellion would be wiped off the map through earthquake and tsunami.

This night, Darth Ebolus would have his revenge for the numerous embarrassments inflicted upon him by Jacob Whitfield and the rebellion since the coup.

And it would all be traced back to...Jedi Whitfield.

For it was he who first proposed that Evil Woody Thoughts' tectonic research be applied to the military.

It was he who had fought tooth and nail for the initial appropriations for the project, enduring ridicule from the rest of the Parliament.

It was he who took credit when the threat of nonnuclear deterrent, that could be used indiscriminately without fear of nuclear winter, averted a war.

And now, the time was come for Whitfield to pay the price, to have his reputation forever sullied, for his youthful lust for weapons. Yes, tonight would be a very good night for the Dark Lord indeed.

Three hundred thirty-six identical ICBMs, with tectonic warheads, unceremoniously rocketed forth in perfect unison from their missile silos, and headed to bring death and destruction to their target cities...

-----------------------------------------------

As the missiles launched, the "bad feeling" Whitfield had had for the last several hours suddenly became crystal clear. He scrambled to dig out his commlink from his pockets and set it to wide-band broadcast. "Issue tsunami warnings for the entire Atlantic! Earthquake warnings too!" For suddenly he knew what was about to happen...

Commander Suskind received the message aboard the EWS Justice, and passed the information along to the relevant news agencies, scowling at Whitfield for being so vague.

As the missiles launched, the "bad feeling" Whitfield had had for the last several hours suddenly became crystal clear. He scrambled to dig out his commlink from his pockets and set it to wide-band broadcast. "Issue tsunami warnings for the entire Atlantic! Earthquake warnings too!" For suddenly he knew what was about to happen...

Commander Suskind received the message aboard the EWS Justice, and passed the information along to the relevant news agencies, scowling at Whitfield for being so vague.
"Tsunami and earthquake warnings?" Taylor asked Whitfield confusedly. Then he spotted the launches. "Oh shit...Whitfield, what the hell's happening?"

-----
CWS Master Yosho...

Admiral Basque was alerted to the missile launches after dozing off for a little catnap. "What the hell--Take them down, now!"

As the missiles went higher, the tracking computers prepared the laser cannon defenses on each of the battleships, cruisers and AA destroyers to the antimissile role and then red spears of energy lit the night sky to destroy the missiles before they became a threat.

Starfighters escorting the air fleet then peeled off to take on the three hundred plus missiles.

----

Dragon Mountain IDF Base...

Multiple Missile Launch Detected! Multiple Missile Launch Detected!

Warning alarms blared and Admiral Easton was also ordering the remaining orbitial laser antimissile defenses to fire at will and destroy those that got through the fighter and sea antimissile screens.

"Damn, that Sith Lord must be angrier than a bear on crack..." Easton said after counting how many missiles lit off. He hoped that they would all be destroyed before they detonated.

"Tsunami and earthquake warnings?" Taylor asked Whitfield confusedly. Then he spotted the launches. "Oh shit...Whitfield, what the hell's happening?"

"Uh, Taylor? Didn't you once say 'nukes are nothing but firecrackers?' Because we're about to get owned."

Whitfield then turned his attention to the skies, as Keith stood there, dumbfounded, having no idea whatsoever of what to do. Whitfield closed his eyes, concentrating on the ICBMs' liquid fuel propulsion...

...But they were moving too fast, and were too far away. Unlike his recent Force wars with Darth Ebolus, the ones that had liberated Keith among others from the Dark Side, he had no "Force proxy" through which to direct energy. He would only be able to detonate a couple harmlessly in the air, before he ran out of time...

------------------------------

In newsrooms across Free Woody Thoughts

News anchors scrambled to divulge the unexpected earthquake and tsunami warnings, going on nothing but the transmissions of Commander Suskind. The news networks' meteorologists detected nothing but contrails across the sky that shouldn't be there. A few anchors put two and two together, and speculated as to why the warnings were issued.

The rest could only break the news, not knowing from where the hell it came, but knowing that it was too important to go unreported.

Tsunami warning sirens sounded across the land.

------------------------------

Aboard the EWS Justice

Commander Suskind, after seeing the contacts light up the radar screens on the bridge, ordered his fleet's vertical launch shells emptied of anti-aircraft missiles in a frantic attempt to shoot them down. Unfortunately, they were not designed for this, and targeting systems could only obtain about a 30% lock on the ICBMs as they streaked across the ionosphere--technically way above the missiles' maximum rated ceiling, anyway.

The rebel naval commander silently apologized for any 'friendly fire' incidents that the Coredians might encounter from the missile spam, whilst cursing the old, outdated technology...

Nevertheless, the outdated rebel ships did manage to shoot down a few, though not very many, missiles headed for Fedawoody Island shortly before they would have impacted.

------------------------------

In the night skies above Free Woody Thoughts

Coredian antimissile weapons, both naval and orbital, lit up the night sky, as scores of explosions blossomed at a hundred twenty thousand feet altitude. As the starfighters raced to intercept more of the missiles, they added their own laser cannons to the light show, a light show that no one would enjoy, a lightshow that everybody but the Dark Lord and his minions hoped would end peacefully.

More explosions blossomed across the night sky, gradually shifting from the west to the east, as the various Coredian antimissile systems frantically tried to shoot down more than three hundred missiles. And while these systems were highly advanced, and highly efficient, they had one thing working against them.

Time.

This was only a short-haul launch, and even the missiles with the longest programmed trajectories would be in the air less than five minutes before they reached their destinations. Five terrifying minutes, from launch to detonation. A missile had to be shot down each second, and then some.

Most were, in fact, shot down when they passed over the naval fleet, bristling with highly advanced antimissile destroyers. Some, however, made it beyond, where only the orbital weapons could fire at them...

------------------------------

Three hundred thirty-six tectonic missiles spewed forth from the silos of Woodyeen Island.

Of these, three hundred thirty-five were shot down.

The last missile found its target, a dormant volcano overlooking Olde Woody City, former capital of Evil Woody Thoughts and capital city of the rebellion, a city of some fifteen million even after the mass deaths from the initial insurgency.

Its heavy-tectonic warhead cracked the Earth's crust, from topsoil to mantle. The crack split the island in two, along a new "subfault" running from southwest to northeast, its effects magnified greatly by the Mid-Atlantic Ridge major fault line. The southeastern half of the island plunged four hundred feet into the sea in a few seconds, as the island in its entirety turned to semiliquid as the first shockwaves of the quake radiated outwards from the epicenter.

The dormant volcano rended itself open, awoken by the disturbance. As it completely collapsed, it created another, secondary earthquake, and disgorged its internal contents upon the island and the atmosphere above it. As it exploded, its pyroclastic flow, a mix of superheated liquid and superpressurized gasses, overwhelmed the island, melting anything in its path as it rushed toward the sea at some six hundred miles per hour. A few isolated parts of the submerged half of the island might have been spared; it would be nearly impossible to tell at this point. As Evil Woody Thoughts had had one of the ten most comprehensive earthquake-building codes on the face of the Earth, a tiny percentage of the skyscrapers forming the Olde Woody City skyline might hold on to survive the plunge, sticking out a few hundred feet above the waterline, allowing a few thousand, out of a city of fifteen million, trapped inside to survive for a few days. But this is an uncertain prospect, a best-case scenario.

Even as the pyroclastic flows buried and flash-melted the part of the rebellion capital that hadn't fallen into the sea, the ground continued to liquefy, and the volcano spewed a giant cloud of ash more than a hundred thousand feet into the atmosphere. Before long, the ash cloud started to attain properties of a giant thunderstorm, complete with updrafts, downdrafts, lightning, and heavy "precipitation"---of ash, still hot enough to boil water when it reached the ground.

Meanwhile, the plunge of nearly seven hundred square miles of land into the ocean displaced more water than all the navies on the planet combined, generating a tsunami that raced towards the other islands at about the speed of sound. It would appear to the Coredian/Woodian navy as a fast moving wave, average in height, but tsunamis did not make their presence known on the high seas---nay, they announced themselves when they piled up on continental shelves, forced to slow down, which in turn would force the water ever higher.

As compression waves radiated outward from the epicenter, destruction within a hundred or so miles was very near to total, all but the strongest buildings collapsing; only buildings whose foundations allowed for them to "sway," and only the most well-constructed of these, could hope to be left standing. Major damage would, however, occur over a much larger radius, as the primary compression waves dissipated into the Earth. They would later make their presence known to seismographs clear on the opposite side of the planet, if only because they are capable of traveling through liquid, and therefore through the planet's mantle.

Secondary shear waves followed closely behind, roiling the Earth's surface, and causing the sensation that the Earth's surface is, in fact, rolling...if anyone in Olde Woody City had survived the initial quake to feel the rolling underneath their feet, that is. For a full minute, longer than an average earthquake, these shear waves emanated from the epicenter, and followed the Earth's surface outward.

This violent upheaval, in turn, awoke more dormant volcanoes. On fifteen islands near Olde Woody City, the earthquake was strong enough to force more volcanic eruptions, which in turn, created aftershocks, even while the original quake continued. While technically separate earthquakes, the aftershocks caused the original to seem continuous for nearly ten full minutes. Fifteen more islands found themselves overwhelmed by pyroclastic flows and lava, some densely inhabited, others barely inhabited at all. Of these islands, three contain major cities; two of those cities flash-melted, the third, fortunately, was not in the path of the oncoming pyroclastic flows. At least most of the third city wasn't. However, that city would be leveled from the earthquakes alone... Fifteen more clouds of ash consolidated into one, as a giant grey and black storm blew up on satellite imagery. Before long, a foot of ash per hour would fall on parts of Free Woody Thoughts. Or what remained of it.

Of these aftershocks, eight were powerful enough to produce "secondary" tsunamis. Nine tsunamis, all within minutes of each other, would crisscross the Atlantic. The good news is that in some places, they would effectively cancel each other out. The bad news: in other places, they will simply "pile on top" of each other--events known as destructive and constructive [wave] interference, respectively.

No, the Death Star had not appeared in orbit to blast the rebellion into oblivion. But, with the cascading effects of a tectonic detonation on a fault line, it may as well have.

Even moreso than 17th July, the day of the now-infamous coup d'etat, this day was by far the darkest day in Evil Woody Thoughts' national history.

------------------------------

However, the sea acted as a buffer between the turmoil in the Earth's crust and effectively spared the combined Coredian/Woodian fleet. Unfortunately for the rebellion, the rebel crew manning said fleet would soon be roughly equivalent to Alderaanians after their planet had been destroyed by the Death Star--stragglers without a nation to call home. The rebellion would have to salvage what it could from the horrific destruction, and reform entirely.

For as the earthquake's effects made themselves known, ten million Woodians perished every minute, whether their deaths be from falling buildings, falling into the Earth to be swallowed, never to be seen again, pyroclastic flows, ash inhalation and subsequent suffocation, or drowning (in the case of half of Olde Woody City falling into the sea, and tsunamis).

Jedi Whitfield collapsed to the floor of the transport he was on in pain, his brain overwhelmed by the sheer scale of voices crying out in terror with the Force, a scale of pain he had never before known, not even the day that Ebolus started purging the civilian population on White Diamond. For this was far worse, a Holocaust and a half occurring every minute.

And not stopping.

Keith, too, howled in pain as every piece of ground within about three hundred miles tore itself apart, simply unable to comprehend it. Even though his senses were not even remotely trained, it affected him nearly as much as it did Whitfield. He wailed that this experience was even more painful than the mindrape he had suffered two months earlier.

But Whitfield carried baggage that Keith Allaire did not.

For when he was young, like Taylor and Keith, he knew he had fought to create this weapon...

His shame was so great that he fingered his lightsaber, actively considering igniting it, and impaling himself with it, in a replication of Japanese seppuku. For he was in such intense pain, and guilt, that he could not deny the desire to end it all...

...But he could not bring himself to do it.

There will be survivors, a few thousand here and there, trapped under rubble, trapped in air pockets underneath the sea, air pockets that would provide enough oxygen for a couple of days' worth of breathing. There will be families, huddled together in cramped quarters, trapped, with only a few days' worth of breathable air. They can be saved, but only if action is taken to search for them quickly...

These people would need an advocate, someone experienced in diplomacy, to plea that disaster relief must take precedence over revenge, that humanitarian aid must come before blowing more stuff up. They would need an advocate to plea for aid on the scale that would be required to completely resettle millions of people, from a nation that had already sacrificed so much for a people it knew little about, only to see its efforts nearly wiped out. They would need an advocate to plea that a few pockets of life in an otherwise dead zone were worth possibly billions of credits to save. Moreover, said nation would soon have its own concerns...

...And Whitfield knew that he must be that advocate. He sheathed his lightsaber once again.

------------------------------

On Jurai

The five former Sith Wraiths, unconscious due to anesthetics, nevertheless sensed something...unusual. However, the neurospecialists attending them were not anywhere near restoring to them a semblance of sentience, as they needed to focus on rebuilding more elementary parts of the brain that had succumbed to the Sith mindrape first. The Wraiths were left to wonder what had just happened; they knew it was significant whatever it was, but still lacked the mental capacity to understand why.

------------------------------

On White Diamond Prime

Darth Ebolus cackled to himself as he sensed the destruction and mayhem on Earth. He relished it. The rebellion would be completely devastated, even if most of the Dark Lord's weapons had been shot down. And the deaths of millions, all at once, was always a pleasure to behold.

He stepped outside to look at the predawn sky, at about four in the morning, relishing the cold, pre-daybreak air. And the death.

Elsewhere on White Diamond Prime...

Young John Watsen suddenly awoke with a headache beyond comprehension, one stronger than any he had felt before. To say that he had a strong headache would be a ghastly understatement, for the evil that roamed the land had produced for him a near-constant headache since the coup d'etat. But this one was far more painful...

...He could sense the death, the turmoil, the very Earth itself crying out. He wept, while trying to keep it quiet enough for the guards not to hear.

Worse, he knew that guards would yank him out of his cell in a couple of short hours, and drag him off to the propaganda camp he so hated.

OOC: Holy...:eek: Five and a half pages single-spaced in Word...I surprise even myself sometimes. Oh, well, a fitting 2,000th post...:p

Taylor was also feeling the massive headache that the sudden psychic scream of millions vanishing from the face of the Earth sent through the Force. He however, was more used to such things than either of the other Jedi, being one of the survivors of the Death Star attack on Juria, the Coredian former capital. Of course, it didn't help much that he himself was nearly driven to his knees all the same.

"Not again...not again!" He banged his fist on the floor of the transport, feeling helpless in the face of such massive death. For all of his mighty fire powers and such, he's still human. And the death of many weighs heavily on him...

After about fifteen minutes, the ground finally stopped shaking. Occasional aftershock earthquakes interrupted what passed for "peace," but nothing near the scale of what had just occurred.

The tsunamis, however, having only traveled about a hundred fifty nautical miles, still had an ocean to traverse, coastlines to visit, people to carry off to the sea, never to be seen again.

The volcanoes weren't finished lighting up the sky with violent upheavals of lava, either. Nor were they finished with belching ash into the atmosphere. The ash cloud formed into a giant anvil cloud, with a hundred fifty thousand foot ceiling, drifting southeast. In a few hours, this cloud would stretch for a thousand miles, only growing bigger because the volcanoes that created the cloud would only continue to add to it. The resulting electrical storm could easily be seen from the decks of the combined sea fleet.

The mind-numbing pain of terror in the Force died down somewhat, only to spike again whenever a tsunami made landfall. Unfortunately, this occurred quite frequently, at least once every ten minutes. A couple of hours after the earthquake, forty-foot tsunamis crashed upon parts of Woodyeen Island's eastern shores, while other parts were fortunate enough to only be swamped by ten feet or so of water.

While nothing more could have been done about the earthquakes themselves, at least Whitfield's tsunami warning had managed to save a few million people spared from the worst of the earthquakes by distance, but who otherwise would have been carried off to the sea. However, millions more met that fate as the tsunamis crossed the ocean.

Yet, all Whitfield could do was wait for sunrise. He would get no sleep tonight. Neither would Keith. Whitfield planned to assess the damage from his X-wing as soon as daylight would allow.

He would search for survivors, and no matter if the Coredians would cooperate or not, bring the rebel fleet to recover them. And he would be taking lots of pictures, to document the damage, to use in his pleas for aid.

At Coredia, seismographs recorded the earthquakes and the scientists determined that the earthquakes peaked at about 9.5 on the Richter scale. However, the tsunami warning managed to have several coastal towns nearest to the archipelago evacuated, but even so, at least several dozen people were killed by the waves. Other nations on either side of the Atlantic also reported tsunami damage, some places rather severe.

In response to the attack, Admiral Easton cut orders to have the helicopter carriers of the 2nd Fleet head to the islands at best speed to find as many survivors as possible. They will arrive a few hours after dawn.

Rear Admiral Basque ordered his own choppers to prepare for deployment at dawn. The ash thunderstorm caused by the volcanoes will make it tough for the air intakes especially at night so they were forced to wait it out. The LAATs, however, had no such weakness and squads separated to assess the damage done to Port Woody ahead. Powerful lightning bolts lit the sky, letting Taylor watch it all night long. He would get no sleep either...no one would, in their anger at the Sith Lord's evil. The troops were all the more determined to end the war and defeat the Dark Lord once and for all.

*Several hours later*

Whitfield anticipated dawn with growing dread as he watched the ash thunderstorms to the east, for he did not relish the task put in front of him by recent events. Nevertheless, he would do what he must.

As the first light of dawn broke, he transferred himself to the EWS Justice, for his X-wing sat on the old battlecruiser's heliport. He told only Commander Suskind of his mission, and without further comment and hoping to avoid attention until he was already gone, he climbed into his fighter.

But a fight was unlikely today. Rare was it to see an experienced Light Side Jedi visibly angry, and Whitfield was no exception, but his anger was tempered by compassion and a strong desire to help those who he could.

As the Coredians concentrated on search-and-rescue to the north, this compassion drew Whitfield to the epicenter...

As the light of day washed over the horizon, Whitfield made a quick low pass over Fedawoody City, the city that had been fought over yesterday, and took some pictures to record the damage:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/chair094/bandaaceh1.jpg http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/chair094/uberearthquake.jpg

Meanwhile, as Fedawoody Island had been spared from the ash, Coredian satellites could take their first pictures of the devastation the earthquakes, and especially the ensuing tsunamis, had brought upon the city liberated only yesterday.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/chair094/overhead.jpg

Whitfield then made a hard turn to the east--straight into the ash thunderstorm that by now raged over the area the size of a subcontinent. He was able to record the damage this storm had wrought on a small town on the edge of the volcanic blast zones before visibility dropped to zero. Moreover, he was quite surprised that the buildings in this town hadn't succumbed to the quake itself.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/chair094/ashdamage.jpg

The Jedi raised his shields upon entering the storm, for he knew the X-wing would be battered by blowing ash and possibly struck by lightning. The small craft gained and lost a couple of thousand feet of altitude at a time as it hit various updrafts and downdrafts, giving Whitfield a stomachwrenching ride. While the Force enabled him to avoid the worst of the turbulence, it was too pervasive to be avoided entirely. As he plunged deeper into the storm, he was forced to shut down the throttle and let his craft glide, lest particulates find their way into repulsorlift coils and render them useless, which in turn would send Whitfield's craft into the ground.

Or into the sea.

Visibility was measured in millimeters as Whitfield approached the earthquake's epicenter, Olde Woody City. Even the X-wing's scopes and sensors were only capable of scanning for about half a kilometer through the thick sheets of ash raining down upon the ruined city. Nevertheless, this reconaissance had to be done.

He reached out with the Force, in a desperate attempt to find life, to find hope, and he found it...

A total of four of the skyscrapers that had graced the rebel capital's skyline had somehow managed to survive the plunge into the sea, and now poked up at odd, nonperpendicular angles several hundred feet. Inside those buildings, a total of a few thousand panicked people had busted open vending machines, to obtain some semblance of food and water, or what passed for the two, to meagerly provision themselves until help would arrive. Or, until they ran out of breathable air. But they seemed certain that no help would come to them.

Four skyscrapers, one out of every hundred in the city, had survived, and now served as lifeboats, but those lifeboats would not sustain life for very long...

Whitfield used the Force to send the panicked survivors vibes of reassurance as he reactivated the engines and rammed them up to full throttle. His starfighter shot straight up, in about two minutes clearing the highest clouds of the ash storm that raged below, for he wanted to get out of the storm as soon as possible.

Whitfield knew those people would need help urgently, for what breathable air they had would be contaminated with ash most quickly.

As he landed once again on the Justice, he handed a datapad with the pictures he had taken to Commander Suskind, for transmission on the Holonet, and told him there was still life at the epicenter. Suskind, who could not help but gape at this news, ordered the six vessels under his direct command to turn hard east, to turn into the storm, in response.

Meanwhile, Jacob Whitfield transferred to the Coredian transports to confer with Taylor and the Coredian command, for he knew that survivors would only have a few days, at most, before they started dying off of dehydration, and that the resources made available for deployment would be insufficent for the scale required.

He would have to ask the Jedi High Council to send more provision for the search-and-rescue effort.

"How bad is it?" The Colonel asked as Whitfield returned. Taylor sat down cross-legged, in a meditation to try and keep himself calm.

Whitfield wore a grim look on his face. "Colonel, I'm afraid it's bad enough that I need to get in touch with the Jedi High Council, to try to get more provisions and manpower sent here. As bad as last night was, millions more will die if they are not found within a few days.

I'm surprised that you haven't looked at the satellite photos yet, Colonel. Granted that ash storm is so dense that nothing can be photographed underneath it, but the city we were in yesterday is pretty much leveled and flooded by the tsunamis. It should be all over the Holonet.

But anyway, I went straight into the heart of the storm, where visibility was zero and the range of the X-wing's scopes was cut to well under a kilometer. There is life still in that city. Four skyscrapers have managed to stand; they stick a few hundred feet above the sea. The rest of the capital is completely dead, but there are a few thousand people trapped in those skyscrapers, upper floors obviously.

Commander Suskind is already on his way. But I doubt the ability of this fleet, and indeed everything that your nation possesses on this planet, to find the survivors among two hundred million missing. I must petition the Council for help immediately."

Whitfield hoped that both the Colonel and Taylor were listening...

Meanwhile, as the six-ship rebel fleet entered the outskirts of the raging ash storm, its crew donned the NBC gas masks stored aboard the ships. Soon, the ships would disappear from all but the most powerful sensors...

"I see." The Colonel nodded. "However, the ash would be too thick for our chopper squadrons, they'll never get there without clogging up the intakes. The LAATs could power their way through, but the low visiblity...we'd need to clear the ash away somehow."

"APSBs." Taylor answered. For Whitfield: "AntiPersonnel Singularity Bombs. They have a radius of about 100 meters. Enough to clear the ash, but also small enough to not hurt anyone unless they're stupid enough to get in range of the spinning light of doom. If we can deploy enough of them, we should be able to clear most of the ash. What do you think?"

"Might have a chance. We'll have to call Easton to deploy them though." The Colonel answered.

"Yeah. And on the Council, I think Grandpa will already know something is really wrong." Taylor added. "Just need to send them exactly what they need to know."

"A couple of problems," Whitfield answered. "The ash would quickly be replaced--the volcanoes are still erupting. But it might just cut down enough on it for radar to work. And you'll need a damn good pilot to actually deploy the things--have you actually tried flying through that thing? That said...I'll go back in and see if I can't clear things up enough for our ships to find their way, if Easton signs off on it.

Taylor, Commander Suskind is already forewarding what he can to Coredian media. He knows the enormity of the disaster relief required as well as I. The satellite photos should give them an idea of the extent of the damage. While I'm gone, tell them to watch the Holonet, and tell them that it's much, much worse under the ash cloud."

"All right." Taylor nodded and teleported to the Master Yosho's bridge and made the call to Jurai while the Colonel sent the word to Admiral Easton aboard the command transport. The Admiral was all too happy to allow them to use the bombs. With much haste, a good number of bombs (20) were sent on a gunship with instructions. Simply put, there's a code needed to arm the bombs, and to actually detonate it requires a small red button to be pressed. Fifteen seconds later, it's pull will be strong enough to drag in anything within a 100 meter range, athough in atmosphere, wind effects will be felt a little bit farther out.

----

"...and Whitfield says it's much worse than what the Holonet's already reporting." Taylor reported to his grandfather, several minutes of explaining later.

"I see." Alex nodded. "I will do everything I can to help, but be warned that aid will not arrive before four or five hours pass, possibly longer. We do have to get everything ready."

"I understand." Taylor said.

"And Taylor?"

"What?"

"This is something that has easily angered you, I can tell. Keep your emotions in control." Alex warned him. "The Sith Lord will still try to turn you via your anger."

Taylor sighed. The old man had a point. "Yes, sir. Taylor, out."

After concluding the conversation, Alex and the Council cut orders to send an entire fleet's worth of Acclamators and transports loaded with tons of MREs and tents and other necessities, as well as several Jedi and droid search and rescue units. The process of loading up the goods took three hours and to get to Earth will take another two hours or so.

Whitfield nodded to Taylor and the Colonel as the former went to report to the Council.

His X-wing was still on the deck of the Justice, so he retrieved his caller once more, and the fighter lifted off from the deck, and flew through the outer edges of the ash storm.

Meanwhile, as the six vessels continued to plunge into the storm, sheets of ash blew across the decks of the ships. The ocean itself was grey. A light grey film of ash would accumulate on the bows of the ships, only to be washed away by dead water. Moreover, the storm had made the atmosphere unstable enough for hurricane-force downdrafts that the fleet had to contend with...

Commander Suskind could not help but wonder if this search-and-rescue mission was a suicide mission. But he would continue, even as visibility was reduced to zero, and the range of the ship's radar and other sensors diminished due to the ever-thickening ash. By the time the small fleet came within fifty nautical miles of their destination, navigators were reduced to old methods of plotting courses on paper maps to figure out where the ships were, because GPS signals failed to penetrate the ash, and nothing else would work. Moreover, Suskind ordered the entire operation to be filmed for as long as cameras could function in the storm, knowing how important that the veil of the storm be penetrated. For that is where the worst damage was.

Meanwhile, Whitfield's X-wing arrived at about the same time as the Coredian "vacuum bombs." Whitfield hated military acronyms, and therefore simply called them by their functional use--sucking everything up into a vacuum. He studied their activation mechanisms carefully, and memorized them, for he knew he would have to do it remotely through the Force.

Now, all he had to do was figure out how to stuff as many as possible in his X-wing's cargo compartment. He removed everything, including emergency toolkits, which he placed beside his seat compartment. Yes it would bounce around a lot during the mission--Whitfield would have to be careful and use the Force to make sure it didn't bounce into the back of his head. But that's what helmets were for. He then managed to cram about ten of the things into the X-wing's cargo compartment, before taking off, to fly into the storm, again.

He raised full shields again, but it didn't seem quite as bad the second time. Whitfield sensed that by now, ash was falling to the ground faster than the eruptions threw it up into the atmosphere---which meant that the horrible storm would slowly dissipate on its own in the next few days. He only needed to help it along.

As he reached the earthquake's epicenter once again, he still couldn't visually see anything but grey in front of him at all. But at least his scopes worked out to a kilometer and a half now. That was an improvement.

He ascended to six thousand feet, to allow enough time for the remote deployment. He did not want to collapse the survivors, nor the rescuers, into a miniature black hole, so he allowed a bit of extra distance.

"Artoo, dump the contents of the cargo compartment." A compliant warble issued forth from the droid.

The ten AntiPersonnel Singularity Bombs flew out into the storm. Whitfield used the Force to input the activation code on their little keypads, one by one, and then push the detonation button. This was difficult to do from several hundred feet, but as Whitfield had used the Force to track them from the second they left the X-wing's small cargo hold, not undoable.

Between them, they removed about a hundred million tons of ash from the storm's supply. As Whitfield descended to rendezvous with the rebellion's rescue fleet, he could see the sea again with his eyes.

And the four-hundred-foot cliff that now ran straight down what had been the middle of the island. He even managed to make out the outline of the four skyscrapers that still stood, through the quarter-mile visibility.

Which, he had to admit, was a big improvement. His scopes even detected the fleet about eight miles out, and he moved to meet it.

Commander Suskind was both surprised and relieved to see Whitfield again. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that his presence coincided with most of his sensory equipment actually having some range again. Whitfield quickly made his way to the bridge before he had to breathe too much of the ash-filled air, and where he could get a gas mask.

As the rescue fleet approached the cluster of four standing buildings, the ship's crew immediately removed all facial masks from the ships' sick bays, to distribute to the survivors. Every last one.

The Justice's sonar officer quickly activated active sonar to scan the new undersea surface as the fleet approached what had been land. Since the earthquake had altered topography so much, this information was critical to ensure that the ships did not run aground.

Commander Suskind could only gasp as the superstructures of the Woodian Capital Group Building, the White Diamond Insurance Building, and two structures that he did not recognize came into view. The buildings appeared only as listing, grey, lifeless, spires. But Whitfield could sense that life still moved within them.

The fleet lowered its lifeboats, its crews not saying a word. Skeleton crews manned these lifeboats, mainly to get them to where they needed to be, but also to extract injured survivors. Whitfield was among them.

The rescuers shattered the buildings' ash-caked windows with firefighting equipment, Whitfield using one of his lightsabers to cut a path into the White Diamond Insurance building instead. They were greeted as saviors, for nearly everyone thought no one would endure the storm that raged outside to come for them. The survivors brought what foodstuffs and beverages they had managed to pilfer from vending machines with them as they stepped onto the lifeboats waiting on the dead sea, wearing their facial masks.

Only there weren't enough lifeboats for everyone. Those who could not be accomodated despaired.

But after the lifeboats had been lifted back up onto the ships, and the survivors taken on board, they were lowered again to pick up the remnant. Survivors crowded every open space on the six vessels, even if it meant they would have to stand out in the storm, their skin mildly burned by the falling ash (which, since the night before, had cooled to a more manageable forty or so degrees Celsius). It was far better than a slow death of dehydration or suffocation inside the buildings, which all of the survivors had feared would be their tombs.

A little more than twelve thousand were pulled from the city, out of its population of fifteen million. The fleet turned west, and accelerated to emergency maximum speed, to get them out of the storm as quickly as possible.

And Whitfield could sense no other life in the city, despite intense concentration and meditation on the matter, as the fleet turned to leave...

The veil of the storm was now pierced. In a few hours, the first pictures of the damage at the quake's very epicenter would be broadcast all over the Holonet...

Darth Ebolus could not contain his glee at the reports of damage and devastation coming from the traitorous rebel territories.

Yes, most of the weapons he used had been shot down, but the one that got through did plenty of damage. These weapons are more powerful than I thought, the Dark Lord thought to himself as he perused photographs from the now-highly classified Holonet, the Holonet that only he and a few immediate mindraped underlings had access to.

He vetted the footage of the damage, deciding what would be dissemanated and what wouldn't. Now, he only need dig up the old Parliament minutes, and write the spin.

The spin that held Whitfield responsible, because the weapon that caused all this damage was, after all, his idea.

Hell, why not go further? Whitfield ordered the deployment of these weapons to destroy military bases manned by valiant soldiers loyal to the Empire that Ebolus had claimed. I'm having too much fun with this.

After he spent a couple of hours writing up the spin, he handed the story off to his government-controlled "news" agency. Now, there was another matter...telling the surviving Wraiths what to do in the aftermath.

Of the nine that remained after yesterday's battle, he found seven at Port Woody. He sensed that the other two had drowned. How unfortunate.

Kill any survivors foolish enough to reveal themselves.

Yes, Master. We will have to do it by hand and lightsaber, for most of our heavy equipment was carried off, except for the DropShips themselves.

So be it. My bidding will still be done.

The Wraiths went forth to perform their Master's will, cutting down any survivors they found with their crimson lightsaber blades.

The Media was in a major frenzy as the pictures from the satellites was beamed down to news stations all over Coredia and the world. Almost immediately, nations from all over the world pledged aid and SAR teams, although the ones on the Atlantic could only make token aid since they had to deal with their own problems. Nevertheless, the largest aid package came from the sky and from the seas of Coredia.

Squadrons of LAATs from the helicopter carriers entering the area flew into the now-weakened ash storm, as the helicopters had to wait several more hours before the air was safe enough for them to fly. Even so, it was was the large Acclamators and other transports that descended into the atmosphere after coming out of hyperspace close to Earth that would conduct the majority of SAR and refugee missions.

In the meantime, the 1st Fleet continued speeding for Port Woody and Taylor prepared to fight the Wraiths once more...

As the rescue fleet came out of the ash storm, the survivors of the epicenter took in the (comparatively) fresh air, without having to worry that it would run out.

As the Coredian airships passed over the fleet on their own SAR sorties, they could see several inches of ash caked on those parts of the ships not occupied by the crowding survivors, caked on the main gun turrets and the conning tower. Even the refugees' clothing was covered in ash, as if they had just spent hours in a blizzard of ash.

Which they had.

Moreover, the fleet could now make clear transmissions, and Commander Suskind wasted no time in uploading the footage of the devastation in Olde Woody City, the near-total submersion of the city, the storm, and the rescue...the first footage taken from underneath the storm's thick veil.

The refugees looked up at the sky and saw the Coredian transport ships, wondering what they were...and where they would find a home, for they had literally lost everything except for what they carried on their person at the time of the earthquake. And they did not expect to find a permanant home anytime soon...

Knight Whitfield made his way to his X-wing again when he saw the blue sky again, and the craft lifted off, as he hurried to rendezvous with Taylor and the First Coredian Fleet, for he had a feeling his presence would be required there...

Commander Suskind took the liberty of forwarding the coordinates of other population centers to the airships and transport vehicles entering the storm. Despite the fact that the storm had weakened, entering it was not for the faint of heart. Visibility would drop back to zero again as the effects of the "vacuum bombs" wore off, for they only had a local effect and the storm only gradually weakened, and would take at least a day before it started to dissipate in earnest. Their pilots would soon wish they had brought their own supply, if they hadn't. High winds, especially downdrafts, and low visibility continued...

Meanwhile, Keith eagerly prepared his own mind for the upcoming battle for Port Woody, even as he watched the Holonet, for he desired to strike back against the Dark Lord...

OOC:Strictly speaking, I should have posted this as FWT, but meh...stupid puppeteering.

A couple of Acclamators and airships fought their way through the ash storm to get to other volcanic hot spots and search for survivors, futile as it may be. The bulk of the fleet chose landing spots at Fedawoody and hovered over the Port Woody area to target and take out the dropships before landing on the southern side. Fortunately for the aid workers, the Wraiths' mechs were too waterlogged to do anything about them.

Nevertheless, the Wraiths had to be taken out. Taylor, Keith and Whitfield will have to go in on their own and pick them off, as satellite images saw them killing off survivors in various evil and despicable ways. So the threesome hopped onto an LAAT and sped for a seven-on-three lightsaber duel against the Sith Lord's minions...

As the Acclamators bombarded the three DropShips from an altitude of several thousand feet, the seven Wraiths readied themselves for battle, for their Master sensed something...

They wouldn't be fighting the transports several thousand feet above them...something else their Master sensed. The Wraiths were suddenly drawn south...

Meanwhile, the three DropShips gradually had their armor melt and peel off; after a couple of minutes of concentrated bombardment, they were nothing more than a fireball and piles of half-melted debris on the waterlogged ground.

Meanwhile, as the transport bearing the two Jedi and their new, "unofficial" apprentice neared the hills on the southern coastline, Whitfield handed Keith a blaster. "Here. You're a good shot, you should have some fun with this."

"Good shot?" Keith asked somewhat angrily. "I'll show you..."

"Careful, Keith. The Dark Lord feeds on anger. You should have learned that from your experience."

"Yeah, you're right, I guess..." the young man conceded to his elder, somewhat grudgingly. Both Keith and Taylor would have to temper their emotions more, something that usually came with age. For Whitfield realized he had once been the same way, too.

And the effects of Whitfield's youthful military-industrial complex scaremongering had just made themselves known all too well...

The elder Jedi sighed as he forced his mind to think about something else. Only a couple minutes more...

Meanwhile, coordinates of other location centers beneath the ash clouds appeared on the scopes of the Coredian ships searching beneath the storm for more survivors, courtesy of Commander Suskind.

After a few moments of travelling over the coastline, Taylor sensed incoming darkness. "They've arrived! Set the gunship down!"

The LAAT landed, disgorging its passengers, and then left them. Now the battle can begin soon...

-----

With high-powered lifesign sensors trained on the other volcanic centers, the Acclamators continued to look for survivors. The rest of the refugee-saving fleet began setting up medical and food centers as well as hundreds of family-size tents for the survivors to come.

As the trio jumped off of the LAAT, the seven Wraiths formed a semicircle around them. Keith fired his blaster at their heads, and would have killed all of them from range, had it not been for their pesky lightsabers deflecting all of his blaster bolts.

The Dark Lord had forseen this, and so fixed his attention upon this battle, remembering what had happened the last time the Wraiths had fought a lightsaber duel. Of course, with the Dark Lord paying more attention to his underlings, this duel would be far more difficult than the first one...

...And Taylor would either turn to the Dark Side or be killed. The Dark Lord could sense his anger, anger that would make him a perfect candidate for a full apprentice, or even a more powerful Wraith. The Wraiths were drawn to him...

Five raised their lightsabers to attack Taylor, while one gravitated towards Keith and the other towards Whitfield.

Taylor, I see you. The Wraiths seemed to hiss and shriek at him, as if calling for him to join them...

Whitfield activated his amethyst blade, and set it to five feet before the Wraith attacked. He parried the first few blows, but found the Wraiths fighting much better than they had the last time...

The young Keith Allaire, meanwhile, found himself wondering what the hell he was doing with a blaster against a lightsaber, as he fired several shots at the Wraith advancing on him, only to see them deflected. He had a feeling this would have to be a melee fight for him...

Great.

Taylor was prepared for this with a grin. Summoning the Force to his mouth, he breathed in, and expelled a large mass of fire at the five Wraiths, using his fingers to guide the stream of crackling heat at them. After that, his crimson lightsaber sprang to life, prepared for anything.

Taylor managed to incinerate one of the Wraiths coming at him outright, and burn the right arm off of another, before the Dark Lord adapted. He absorbed the rest of the flames as he would absorb them if they had been directly projected at him, for the Wraiths were his Force proxies, able to do nearly anything the Dark Lord himself could if he routed enough of his Force energy through them.

Of course, the Dark Lord hadn't really been paying that much attention during the last Wraith lightsaber duel, but he had learned from that mistake. Still, having to concentrate on seven Wraiths at a time presented some problems...

The Wraith with the burned arm switched his lightsaber to the left hand; he would be at a disadvantage for the rest of the duel.

The Dark Lord managed to absorb some of the Force energy Taylor used to create the flames remotely, then sent it back to him via Force lightning. The four surviving Wraiths attacking him pointed their lightsabers at him from about ten feet away, and dark blue bolts of lightning traveled down their crimson lightsaber blades, leaving the tip, bound for Taylor.

The Wraiths then moved in, lightsabers in en guarde postion. The closest one took a downward swing at the young Knight...

The survivors hissed as they advanced upon Taylor. Join me or die.

Meanwhile, Keith dropped his blaster, for it would soon be worse than useless. He would need both his hands for the fight to come, he suspected. The Wraith drawn to him raised his lightsaber to strike...

...As the blade came down, unknowingly aided by the Force, Keith intercepted the Wraith's fist, the fist that bore the hilt of the crimson-bladed lightsaber that would have sliced Keith neatly in half, with his right hand. Keith closed his hand tightly around the Wraith's fist and the lightsaber hilt.

The rest of the group heard the sickening sound of bones crushing as Keith crushed the Wraith's right hand, then bent it backwards until his adversary's wrist snapped and the lightsaber fell to the ground and automatically deactivated. As the Wraith raised his other hand to cast a bolt of Force lightning, Keith intercepted that, too, with his left hand.

He hurled the Wraith to the ground as he snapped the Wraith's other wrist, piercing the air with more cracking and popping noises.

The Wraith used his feet to try to trip Keith, but he would have none of it. He jumped out of the way, as the Wraith got up again.

As the Wraith stood up, Keith landed a hard punch to the side of his skull, one that drew blood that oozed down the side of the Wraith's face, blood that also splattered all over Keith's arm. He staggered backwards several steps, in a stunned stupor.

Keith advanced on the Wraith, and before said Wraith collapsed to the ground, put his left hand behind the Wraith's neck, and his right on the Wraith's forehead. He put all of his considerable strength into bending the Wraith's head backwards...

Several cracks penetrated the air as the Wraith's spinal cord succumbed to the pressure and severed as Keith bent his head backwards a full hundred and forty degrees. As the Wraith collapsed to the ground, dead, Keith captured his lightsaber, and took it for his own.

I've fought with this weapon before...it feels strangely familiar.

Meanwhile, Whitfield parried more blows from the Wraith with its attention fixed on him, before adding a few thrusts of his own. The Wraith parried Whitfield's attacks far more quickly than his brethren in slavery had during Whitfield's first duel with the Dark Lord's servants.

The Wraith raised his lightsaber for a heavy strike. Whitfield tried a low cut, but the Wraith intercepted it surprisingly quickly...

...The two lightsabers hissed and cackled against each other, amethyst meeting crimson.

-----------------------------------------

Meanwhile, under the ash storm...

The Coredian transports searching for people to rescue came upon one of the volcanic blast zones that Commander Suskind had indicated might contain survivors earlier, about fifty miles south of the epicenter. Most of the city had been flash-melted by the nearby volcano's wrath, but not all of it...

Debris stuck up from several feet of ash atop a large hill, a hill that had been home to several suburbs. There were people trapped under that debris, and the ash that buried it, people that would show up as lifeform readings on Coredian sensors, readings spread over a few square miles...

...A few miles further east, another heavy reading came, eminating from skyscrapers downtown that had survived the earthquake and pyroclastic flows, for the quake itself had not been quite as strong here. Thousands more people waited in those buildings, on the fifth floor and above, to be rescued...

Taylor managed to incinerate one of the Wraiths coming at him outright, and burn the right arm off of another, before the Dark Lord adapted. He absorbed the rest of the flames as he would absorb them if they had been directly projected at him, for the Wraiths were his Force proxies, able to do nearly anything the Dark Lord himself could if he routed enough of his Force energy through them.

Of course, the Dark Lord hadn't really been paying that much attention during the last Wraith lightsaber duel, but he had learned from that mistake. Still, having to concentrate on seven Wraiths at a time presented some problems...

The Wraith with the burned arm switched his lightsaber to the left hand; he would be at a disadvantage for the rest of the duel.

The Dark Lord managed to absorb some of the Force energy Taylor used to create the flames remotely, then sent it back to him via Force lightning. The four surviving Wraiths attacking him pointed their lightsabers at him from about ten feet away, and dark blue bolts of lightning traveled down their crimson lightsaber blades, leaving the tip, bound for Taylor.
Taylor brought his blade up in a guard and focused the lightning to ground into the blade. The red sword of energy flared up and Taylor felt electric pain travel up his arm, but it didn't do any more than that.

The Wraiths then moved in, lightsabers in en guarde postion. The closest one took a downward swing at the young Knight...

The survivors hissed as they advanced upon Taylor. Join me or die.
Never. He answered as crimson clashed on crimson and Taylor swept downwards in a strike on the inside leg.

-----------------------------------------

Meanwhile, under the ash storm...

The Coredian transports searching for people to rescue came upon one of the volcanic blast zones that Commander Suskind had indicated might contain survivors earlier, about fifty miles south of the epicenter. Most of the city had been flash-melted by the nearby volcano's wrath, but not all of it...

Debris stuck up from several feet of ash atop a large hill, a hill that had been home to several suburbs. There were people trapped under that debris, and the ash that buried it, people that would show up as lifeform readings on Coredian sensors, readings spread over a few square miles...

...A few miles further east, another heavy reading came, eminating from skyscrapers downtown that had survived the earthquake and pyroclastic flows, for the quake itself had not been quite as strong here. Thousands more people waited in those buildings, on the fifth floor and above, to be rescued...
Upon sensing the survivors, an Acclamator descended onto an empty field and began deploying troops in standard NBC armor as well as SAR droids and Knights began working to free the people under the debris with superior strength, telekinesis and other methods.

The ones a few miles east were also being serviced by a second transport who managed to land near the broken city. This transport was smaller than the Acclamator by 200 meters but is still capable of carrying a couple thousand people if need be.

Thus began the infinitely long, slow road to recovery...

Taylor brought his blade up in a guard and focused the lightning to ground into the blade. The red sword of energy flared up and Taylor felt electric pain travel up his arm, but it didn't do any more than that.

Never. He answered as crimson clashed on crimson and Taylor swept downwards in a strike on the inside leg.

Then you shall die...

The Wraith who had attacked Taylor first stepped back as Taylor brought his lightsaber down, slashing his black robe but doing little else. As the first Wraith stepped back, the other three came forward to attack...

...or two.

As Keith activated his new crimson lightsaber, he noticed that the melee fight had brought him a good forty feet or so away from the rest of the duel, and that Taylor could use a little help. He changed his grip on the hilt to the same way he would hold a javelin, then threw it at one of the Wraiths.

Maybe it was because of his extensive pre-war combat training, maybe it was because his arm was steadied by the Force; it was probably some combination of the two. The lightsaber-spear gracefully glided through the air, and impaled one of the Wraiths, sideways through the head. The crimson blade stuck two feet out of the Wraith's left ear as he collapsed to the ground, dead, only about two feet in front of the young Jedi. This left one oncoming chop strike from the right and one from the left to worry about...

Meanwhile, Whitfield managed to turn his lightsaber ever-so-slightly during the saber lock, pointing it at the Wraith that occupied his attention. A simple stir in the Force flipped the amplitude knob on his custom lightsaber to maximum, and his blade jumped from five feet to nine before the Wraith and his Master could react, impaling him. He looked up to see Keith's lightsaber throw...

The Force is strong in him. Very strong, he thought to himself as he scooped up the Wraith's fallen lightsaber and tossed it to Keith, who had no problem catching it at all. Both rushed to aid Taylor--the fight would now be even.

Upon sensing the survivors, an Acclamator descended onto an empty field and began deploying troops in standard NBC armor as well as SAR droids and Knights began working to free the people under the debris with superior strength, telekinesis and other methods.

The ones a few miles east were also being serviced by a second transport who managed to land near the broken city. This transport was smaller than the Acclamator by 200 meters but is still capable of carrying a couple thousand people if need be.

Thus began the infinitely long, slow road to recovery...

It took several minutes for the rescuers in the hills to reach their first victim, but after a few minutes of digging, earthquake survivors started to trickle forth from the debris much more quickly.

The rescuers found everyone from infants to frail, old ladies, and everything in between, sometimes in one flattened household. Once again, the rescued populace seemed surprised that anyone would come to look for them in the storm from hell that raged overhead, but boarded the transports, most too shocked to do much else, nonetheless.

Meanwhile, as the smaller transport took on refugees from what had been downtown, it quickly overcrowded. Soon standing room ran out, and more refugees waited inside the buildings that still stood, unable to see the help outside of the ash-caked windows...

Then you shall die...

The Wraith who had attacked Taylor first stepped back as Taylor brought his lightsaber down, slashing his black robe but doing little else. As the first Wraith stepped back, the other three came forward to attack...

...or two.

As Keith activated his new crimson lightsaber, he noticed that the melee fight had brought him a good forty feet or so away from the rest of the duel, and that Taylor could use a little help. He changed his grip on the hilt to the same way he would hold a javelin, then threw it at one of the Wraiths.

Maybe it was because of his extensive pre-war combat training, maybe it was because his arm was steadied by the Force; it was probably some combination of the two. The lightsaber-spear gracefully glided through the air, and impaled one of the Wraiths, sideways through the head. The crimson blade stuck two feet out of the Wraith's left ear as he collapsed to the ground, dead, only about two feet in front of the young Jedi. This left one oncoming chop strike from the right and one from the left to worry about...

Meanwhile, Whitfield managed to turn his lightsaber ever-so-slightly during the saber lock, pointing it at the Wraith that occupied his attention. A simple stir in the Force flipped the amplitude knob on his custom lightsaber to maximum, and his blade jumped from five feet to nine before the Wraith and his Master could react, impaling him. He looked up to see Keith's lightsaber throw...

The Force is strong in him. Very strong, he thought to himself as he scooped up the Wraith's fallen lightsaber and tossed it to Keith, who had no problem catching it at all. Both rushed to aid Taylor--the fight would now be even.
Taylor barely glanced at the gruesome death of the other Wraith as he was focused on fighting off three...oh, make that two...nah, it's one-on-one. He battered down his foe's defenses with a equal mix of Forms II and V, utilizing swift, strong strikes of his lightsaber and then concluded the fight with a stab towards the heart.

And then he had a delayed double-take. He did that to that Wraith? He's pretty good...

It took several minutes for the rescuers in the hills to reach their first victim, but after a few minutes of digging, earthquake survivors started to trickle forth from the debris much more quickly.

The rescuers found everyone from infants to frail, old ladies, and everything in between, sometimes in one flattened household. Once again, the rescued populace seemed surprised that anyone would come to look for them in the storm from hell that raged overhead, but boarded the transports, most too shocked to do much else, nonetheless.
It took several hours, but the Acclamator transport took on as many people as it possibly could before lifting off for Port Woody.

Meanwhile, as the smaller transport took on refugees from what had been downtown, it quickly overcrowded. Soon standing room ran out, and more refugees waited inside the buildings that still stood, unable to see the help outside of the ash-caked windows...
The smaller transport's engines whined loudly as it took off with an overcrowded bay as slowly as possible and headed out towards Port Woody. It was followed by a second Acclamator who landed with the room for the other people.

Taylor barely glanced at the gruesome death of the other Wraith as he was focused on fighting off three...oh, make that two...nah, it's one-on-one. He battered down his foe's defenses with a equal mix of Forms II and V, utilizing swift, strong strikes of his lightsaber and then concluded the fight with a stab towards the heart.

And then he had a delayed double-take. He did that to that Wraith? He's pretty good...

The Wraith, overwhelmed by Taylor's strikes, tried to duck and sidestep the stab at the same time, only to end up on the ground, where Taylor could impale him...if he was quick enough. The Wraith recovered his lightsaber, but if Taylor was really quick, he could kill the Wraith before he could reactivate it...

Meanwhile, in order to avoid being hacked at from behind, the other two Wraiths turned their attention to Whitfield and Keith. Whitfield quickly took down his target with a quick Form VIII strike to the neck, taking advantage of the long reach of his saber in the process.

Keith, on the other hand, had no formal knowledge of various lightsaber combat techniques, but a combination of former fencing training and the Force guided his hand nonetheless. As the Wraith he faced moved to strike, he slashed at the Wraith's lightsaber, resulting in a saber lock. Keith pulled his saber away, only to thrust it back at his opponent. As the Wraith parried it, Keith withdrew his saber for another, stronger, strike, one that knocked the Wraith backwards a few feet when he blocked it.

Keith advanced on the Wraith, his strikes quicker this time, but no less powerful. The Wraith could only block three of these strikes before the fourth knocked his lightsaber away.

The Dark Lord, in a futile attempt to salvage the battle, sent Force lightning through the Wraith's fingers, but Keith managed to catch nearly all of it on his blade as he thrust it at the ground.

He shook off the dark electrical tingle. What is it with me impaling people today?

It took several hours, but the Acclamator transport took on as many people as it possibly could before lifting off for Port Woody.

The smaller transport's engines whined loudly as it took off with an overcrowded bay as slowly as possible and headed out towards Port Woody. It was followed by a second Acclamator who landed with the room for the other people.

The refugees held on to anything they could as the transports that took off rocked as a result of turbulence, albeit mild, considering the large craft they were in.

Meanwhile, more earthquake survivors poured out from the few standing buildings downtown, as word spread inside that help was here. The second Acclamator managed to hold them all, but just barely; the Acclamator's sensors would indicate that all life on this island had been evacuated...

The Wraith, overwhelmed by Taylor's strikes, tried to duck and sidestep the stab at the same time, only to end up on the ground, where Taylor could impale him...if he was quick enough. The Wraith recovered his lightsaber, but if Taylor was really quick, he could kill the Wraith before he could reactivate it...
Taylor swiftly stabbed at the Wraith's heart as the foe fell to the ground...

The refugees held on to anything they could as the transports that took off rocked as a result of turbulence, albeit mild, considering the large craft they were in.

Meanwhile, more earthquake survivors poured out from the few standing buildings downtown, as word spread inside that help was here. The second Acclamator managed to hold them all, but just barely; the Acclamator's sensors would indicate that all life on this island had been evacuated...
The second Acclamator lifted off slowly and also headed to Port Woody's southern side. By now, the area was turned into quite the crowded makeshift town.

Taylor swiftly stabbed at the Wraith's heart as the foe fell to the ground...

As the Wraith fell, Taylor's crimson blade impaled him...Keith wasn't the only one who used that tactic today.

Their opponents vanquished, at least until the military campaign that lay ahead, Keith and Whitfield deactivated their lightsabers, the latter taking a few seconds to adjust the default length of his blade before sheathing it. Keith simply stuffed his trophy into one of his robe's pockets, for he did not have anywhere else to put it.

Whitfield took a brief moment to meditate on the battle, while Keith stood there, wondering what lie ahead. He looked down at his right hand, to see it covered in blood, from the melee attacks against the first Wraith to target him.

Meh, probably should get this cleaned up before I start pulling tsunami victims out of standing water...

Taylor extinguished his blade and then began turning his mind to search-and-rescue. With the enemy vanquished, he's now free to help find survivors.

Whilst Taylor turned his thoughts to search-and-rescue, Whitfield silently gathered the lightsabers of the fallen Wraiths. Perhaps they would be useful one day. He then started walking into a small, nearby town, leaving his two companions to follow them, in an eerie silence.

The three began the arduous and seemingly endless task of pulling survivors from the rubble...

18 August 2078, a few days later

Four hundred islands, encompassing a total land area of approximately two hundred fifty thousand sqare miles.

Some forty-two million refugees had been pulled out from the ash, the debris, the mess that the earthquakes and tsunamis had left behind, partly because the advanced sensors aboard the Coredian transports, coupled with the attuned senses of the Jedi, had told search-and-rescue parties exactly where to look, and where efforts would be fruitiless. Most came from beyond the volcanic blast zones of the initial quake, where the quake itself, and not the volcanoes, had done the most damage.

From this, Whitfield figured that between a hundred and thirty and a hundred and fifty million had perished, either burned, buried, or drowned in nature's own mass graves, or what passed for "nature" when she was pushed by weapons of mass destruction, anyway.

The millions of refugees, who seemed to call themselves the Remnant most of the time, lived in either tent cities that sprawled for miles or Coredian Acclamator transports. The transports were a bit more popular amongst the Remnant, even if they were more crowded, because they afforded better heat in the face of the approaching winter, and they had been designed for carrying large amounts of people, and therefore had better infrastructure to support them. Nevertheless, everyone kept warm enough to survive.

Food for the refugees consisted of bland Meals Ready to Eat, but nevertheless, the rations were far more satisfying than what food had been available to the refugees before their rescue--either food of little nutritional value, or no food at all. Nevertheless, they had more important concerns than the way their food tasted--like how to rebuild their lives without at least an economy to get started.

Huge, prefabricated distillation facilities drew water from the ocean, turning "dead water," void of all life except bacteria that thrived in the standing water immediately following the tsunamis, high in ash content, into water clean enough to drink, on a scale large enough to provide the refugees with a modest water ration, enough to keep them alive, but one that always seemed to leave them a little bit thirsty.

Knight Whitfield, ever the political planner, had much to meditate upon. Most importantly, how the millions before him would re-establish themselves, and how quickly. How the economy would be rebuilt, and with it, peoples' livelihoods. How a functioning legal system could be restored...

...And how Keith Allaire would be trained. A former Wraith, who if left alone, could be dangerous untrained, as he had proven about a week ago. But, the Council might be reluctant to train him because of his background, and then there were the five Wraiths on Jurai, still undergoing their mental restoration...

Whitfield would have to talk to Taylor about this, because of his family connections, even though he didn't seem particularly interested in talking to politicians about debates.

Moreover, the quicker a functioning republic could be restored, the better it would be for everyone; Whitfield knew the Dark Lord must be defeated quickly, and he contemplated a return to White Diamond...

Taylor, now having long since given away his red cloak to a small orphaned child in a uncharacteristic fit of sympathy, stood out of a hillside looking over the millions that need to restart their whole lives. Sheesh. There's a hell of a lot more to do for them...and it's only just started.

Whitfield sensed Taylor's thoughts, as he shared them himself. He sought Taylor out and whispered something in his ear, as if to nudge him.

"Ahem, Taylor. The sooner we can free ourselves of the Dark Lord, the sooner these people will be able to rebuild their nation. But they need a starting point, which the liberation of Woodyeen Island can provide...the satellite photos I've seen indicate that most of the subcontinent escaped with minor damage, except for sections of its east coast. The war must be conducted quickly. It will also give these refugees a place to go..."

OOC: Would this be about when the Godulans would start to arrive? A big honking boom with Coredian ships involved would be certain to draw their attention...

"Inevitable." Taylor nodded, a breeze going through his black jacket and dirty blond hair. "Well, better start planning with the Colonel."

"Inevitable." Taylor nodded, a breeze going through his black jacket and dirty blond hair. "Well, better start planning with the Colonel."

"Hmm...OK. Let's bring Keith along; he knows more about this kind of thing than I do...he commanded a BattleMech company before the war, if I am not mistaken."

"Hmm...OK. Let's bring Keith along; he knows more about this kind of thing than I do...he commanded a BattleMech company before the war, if I am not mistaken."
"Alright." Taylor nodded.

After Keith was found, they headed to the Colonel's HQ. He seemed disheveled now, understandable considering the paperwork he had to do. But he perked up a bit with the Major's arrival. "Major! Mr. Whitfield! What brings you in here?"

"Woodyeen Island." Taylor answered.

"Ach. I'm drowning in paperwork here." The Colonel appeared nearly in tears. "I won't be able to join you guys. Aside from that, let's begin."

Whitfield grinned. "Ah, paperwork, if only you knew what it's like to be a politician, having to read four-hundred-page-long appropriations bills..." His voice trailed off as he sighed, much preferring that fate over the position he was in right now.

Keith chimed in, his deep voice filling the room. "You know, Colonel, I was the commander of Epsilon Company before the war, an elite assault 'Mech unit. I remember it quite well, too. Perhaps I could help out a bit with this? I'll even fill out any paperwork that might be required."

One had to admit, an explosion as massive as the eruption in the area of Woodyeen island and the immediate environs was bound to attract attention somehow. In fact, eyes had been drawn to the area when ships bearing Coredian ID codes were winking out of existence as if they were in combat, yet no notice of hostilities had made it through Coredian official channels. It was decided that if the Coredians had needed help they would ask, and thus had the fleets remained on standby.

However, the temblor bomb strike on the volcano had caused enough of a ruckus that General Achaedus had rescinded the standby order and sent a number of Makos to investigate the phenomenon.

The devastation was visible even from orbit. And the primary reaction from the Godulan fleet could be summed up in five words: "What the hell HAPPENED here?"

Comms from all of the ships were sent to the surface, hoping to contact any Coredian or Civilian authorities:

"To Coredian Force Commander or Local Civilian Leadership, please report situation and stand by to recieve assistance."

A light flashed on Jedi Whitfield's commlink, indicating it had received a wide-band transmission from a party not on its programmed whitelist. "Uh, excuse me for a moment," he said to the others in the room, as he quietly stepped outside.

He played the recording. "To Coredian Force Commander or Local Civilian Leadership, please report situation and stand by to recieve assistance."

The old Jedi, judging from his actions of late, fell about halfway between the two roles; nevertheless he decided to respond under the category of "local civilian leadership."

Fortunately, an identification signal had been sent along with the transmission. Godular. Whitfield thought for a moment, vaguely aware that Godular was a strong ally of CoreWorlds, further recalling the purchase of terraforming nanites from their merchants a few years ago. Well, it looks like those terraforming nanites might get their first use out of the war...

He flipped a switch on his commlink to send a reply transmission. "This is Jedi Knight Whitfield, of the Free Woody rebellion. Your allies have committed substantial resources for search-and-rescue, now complete, and temporary care for the millions of refugees. The Dark Lord found himself some tectonic goodies to use against us, and we could very much use assistance, especially for rebuilding homes, rebuilding some semblance of an economy here. The rebellion will thank you."

As Keith Allaire cut down the last Sith Wraith on Earth, the Dark Lord's celebrations over the destruction on Earth faded rapidly into seething anger.

Even worse, there was something familiar about that man. Darth Ebolus meditated on the matter for a few minutes. Ah, yes, that's it, he is one of the Wraiths turned by that traitor Whitfield. He is still a slave, only to a different master.

Nevertheless, a master that the Dark Lord despised...and he knew he had to find replacements...

Perhaps even more disconcertingly, that left him without any Wraiths to carry out his will directly on Earth; he would have to rely on traditional communication. Unless he sent more Wraiths. But where to find them?

His thoughts were interrupted by a Captain of the Emperor's Guard, a new "security" service that he had set up in the last month, culled from the best mindraped officers of the Navy he could find. Ebolus sensed his presence. "Yes, Captain, what is it?"

"My Lord, we have received our first delivery from the Star Forge."

"The first good news of the day. What was delivered?"

"The first Immortal off the line, sir. We have received word that they will finish reconfiguring one of the Sovereigns you ordered to your specifications within the week. Also, the Star Cruiser that was temporarily decommissioned for maintenance has passed its hull stress testing, and is ready to return to service--and we should get our first Warbird soon."

"Excellent. Staff the new vessels and, there's something else..."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Bring the fifty best-rated 'Mechwarriors not already assigned to Earth to me."

"Yes, Master." The captain turned and left, to complete the mission given to him.

"This is Jedi Knight Whitfield, of the Free Woody rebellion. Your allies have committed substantial resources for search-and-rescue, now complete, and temporary care for the millions of refugees. The Dark Lord found himself some tectonic goodies to use against us, and we could very much use assistance, especially for rebuilding homes, rebuilding some semblance of an economy here. The rebellion will thank you."

Acknowledged. Stand by.

"The area looks like it was ripped apart. That must have been some nasty weapon."

"I know. I want one. What's the status on the Heighliner?"

"Approaching now. As soon as it gets here it'll start dispersing the ants. ETA less than ten."

"Excellent."

Construction Ant Swarm will deploy in ten minutes. First stage will attempt to clear debris. Representatives will be sent before stage two begins.

Whitfield grinned. "Ah, paperwork, if only you knew what it's like to be a politician, having to read four-hundred-page-long appropriations bills..." His voice trailed off as he sighed, much preferring that fate over the position he was in right now.

Keith chimed in, his deep voice filling the room. "You know, Colonel, I was the commander of Epsilon Company before the war, an elite assault 'Mech unit. I remember it quite well, too. Perhaps I could help out a bit with this? I'll even fill out any paperwork that might be required."
"No, I'll be fine." The 35 year old Colonel waved it off. "Anyway, I'll set it aside for a bit to help you plan the offensive." He waved his hand to some chairs. "Ready?"

"The assistance is acknowledged. Please clear the debris into centralized areas so it may be recycled, as much as possible. We'll need all the raw materials we can get." Whitfield placed the commlink back in his pocket before walking into the room.

Meanwhile, Keith thought the Colonel had misconstrued his request, but set that aside for the moment as Whitfield entered the room again. He's going to need a field commander if he is too busy to come himself. And someone to train more 'MechWarriors. Unless he plans on only sending in the three of us, interesting, insanely difficult, but may be doable...

"Did I miss anything?" Whitfield asked, sensing activity in Keith's mind.

"Well, let's see. The Colonel here said he can't come with for the next campaign, but he'll have to boss us around from a thousand miles away," Keith answered, hoping to slip him a hint. Yes, he would accept command under either Whitfield or Taylor, but Whitfield was too much of a politician and Taylor...had already rubbed him the wrong way somehow. Given a choice between the two, however, he would take the elder Jedi.

"Ah, yes, the Woodyeen Island campaign that I've talked to Taylor about." Whitfield drew out his datapad, and showed everybody a map of the territory to be liberated next. A territory that covered more than a hundred thousand square miles.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v115/chair094/woodyeen.jpg

As Keith, the Colonel, and Taylor looked at the map, Whitfield explained. "Dots are military installations, grey areas are cities. The cities on the eastern peninsula have no permanant military installations near them, and have also suffered the most damage from the tsunamis..."

Young James Watsen struggled to sleep in his prison cell. The propaganda in class had been especially horrible today.

Today, he received his first geology lesson, a lesson on how and why earthquakes occur, simplified enough for a young child to understand. That wasn't the bad part, however. Then, it turned into a "current events" class...

The teacher hands out photos of the destruction caused by the earthquake on Earth the other day. Was that why I got that big headache? Probably. "Class, this earthquake was not natural. It was caused by a weapon, a weapon built by the traitors. Forty years ago, Whitfield, then an evil politician, spent his country's money on developing this weapon. The evil traitors on Earth captured this weapon and fired it, causing the earthquake..."

No, this can't be true! But he had felt a sinking feeling in his stomach during class...

His feelings told him at least part of this was true, but he could not discern what. He sat in his prison cell, confused, and hoped the Dark Lord wouldn't find him to "straighten it out."

"All right. Here's what I think. Aside from Keith being field commander in my stead, -he's a Lieutenant Colonel after all- you can begin the main invasion on the east side, where you'll need to liberate the tsunami victims there. The Coredian fleet will attack the north and west sides and land our forces there." The Colonel said. "Then all three invasion armies will push in towards the interior. Would you like to add anything?"

"Uh, yes, I would, Colonel." Keith's voice once again filled the room. "A few things that you probably don't know, but should. Look for oversized satellite dishes in your recon, about fifty meters wide, maybe a bit bigger. These are communication relays, called hyperpulse generators, and are a priority for capture. Destroy them if you must, but try to capture at least some of them, because it'll be one less thing to rebuild after the war. In the absence of the Dark Lord's Sith Wraiths, this is really the only way he has to communicate with the Earth base commanders.

Don't think that one base is more important than another, because, apart from direct orders from White Diamond, they're pretty much autonomous. Which is why the HPGs are so important. The military will revert to commandeering civvie ones if necessary, and maybe already has.

Most, but not all, static defenses such as turrets are controlled by turret control towers. They look kinda like an air traffic control tower at a really small airport. Take 'em out, far faster than firing on individual turrets, if you can.

That said, I'll need fourteen of your Orca transports to move equipment, that mobile field base that got captured yesterday, and a few techies. Give us communication equipment and food for a few days, and aside from that, I know how to salvage damn near ANYTHING and turn it against the enemy.

Oh, and I'm afraid I'll have to requisition the pilots that Whitfield trained earlier.

Once lines have been secured, you can start sending in humanitarian stuff.

I'll probably run into a copy of our field manual early in the campaign. I'll copy it and transmit it to you if you want."

"I'll be sure to let the troops know about all that." The Colonel answered. "Will that be everything we need to know?"

"Hmm." Keith stroked his chin for a moment. "Don't be surprised if a base has multiple turret control towers controlling multiple grids. Other than that, you'll want to peruse this."

Keith reached into his robe to pull out a booklet, quite a bit smaller than a field manual, that had "WHITE DIAMOND 'MECHWORKS CONFIGURATIONS" written across the cover. "This will give you a bit of an idea of what to expect in terms of what 'Mech enemies are equipped with what. We manufacture several older chassis that we didn't design, in addition to what you've seen. This thing lists the default factory configurations, and weapon hardpoints, but you will encounter variations. If a 'Mech design has a lot of Omni hardpoints, chances are good that it's been modded. I can't think of anything else at the moment, Colonel, and thank you for returning me to that which I do best. Need anything else?"

Taylor scowled as he realized that the Lieutenant Colonel is commanding the whole thing and sent a 'please don't irritate me' look to Keith.

Seemingly oblivious to the Major, Colonel Hughes continued. "Just give them hell for me. Be ready as soon as possible."

It was at about this time that the island of Woodyeen and its surrounding archipelago was subjected to the most eerie rainstorm.

Or meteor storm. Whatever.

There were about five thousand of them. Capsules. Twenty meters in diameter, all drifting in on parachutes. They came to rest with surprising accuracy on dry ground, and immediately opened up like a rose, revealing several dozen ant-like mechanoids that promptly hustled out and began whittling away at the strewn debris throughout the nation. Industrious, swift, and tireless, the ants began their grueling work without complaint or comment.

Outwardly, Keith pretended to ignore Taylor, though he considered the feeling mutual. Don't annoy me, and I don't annoy you. Got it? He made no attempt to shield this thought from Taylor, but this openness of thought had a side effect--Whitfield could sense it, too.

"Yes, Colonel, where are the other six pilots? If they're found reasonably soon, I can deploy by nightfall. Oh, and do be sure to send me sat photos every now and then."

Whitfield inwardly dissapproved of Keith's bluntness, probably more because of his political background than anything else, and he had the feeling that had Keith left that unsaid, he would periodically have to calm the two down. Which he didn't want to do...

Meanwhile, outside, the refugees wondered why the clear sky suddenly filled with...giant pods. The Coredians seemed to pay it no mind, but the refugees looked up at the sky...

"Aargh! Giant ants of doom! Run!" But the refugees couldn't really go anywhere, because there wasn't really a place to run to that wasn't full of the things. It took them a few minutes to see that they went straight to the debris without even paying attention to them...

Gradually, collective sanity returned.

Got it. Taylor answered. Being a better Jedi at telepathy, he sent it only back at Keith.

"Don't worry about that. The other pilots are near the mobile base somewhere. Can't exactly miss the big mechs." The Colonel grinned. "Now shoo. I have work to do." Then he looked outside to see the rain. "Ah, cool. The ants have come to clean things up."

The threesome were shooed out the headquarters and then prepared for the invasion. The Coredian Navy started moving out to sea once more, now that they got the plans for attack.

"Good." This word carried a double meaning, as it was addressed to both the Colonel, and unknown to the Colonel, Taylor also. Keith, out of habit, saluted the Colonel before leaving the room, the two Jedi right behind him.

Nine 'MechWarriors, that's two lances and a bit of change. Including two Jedi. I can pull this off, fairly easily, with a bit of ingenuity...

Keith wasted no time in finding the other six rush-trained Coredian 'Mechwarriors near the MFB. He got the introduction out of the way as soon as possible, before adding, "Pack up. We're deploying to Eastern Woodyeen Island tonight, per orders of Colonel Hughes. And yes, I know what I'm doing."

"He does." Taylor nodded reluctantly.

Sergeant Ross nodded. "Ah, yes sir."

Soon, the mechwarriors packed up and the Orca transports were prepared to lift the giant walking death machines to the war zone. The rest of the army were already flying to prepare for combat at the other attack zones.

Keith completed final logistical preparations as the afternoon wore on, mostly evaluating equipment, and assigning it. As he would only get fourteen transports, two of which were reserved for other things, he had to decide what equipment to take along, and what to leave behind, and decided to take along six of the heaviest 'Mechs, four of their lighter cousins, and two scouts.

Yes, scouts did have their uses, especially in certain types of missions, which Keith would likely either perform alone, or with one of the Jedi.

Not to mention gathering techies and stashing a few crates of MREs and portable water filtration equipment in the transport Keith had set aside for weapons salvage.

By the time he had finished, the sun had dropped quite close to the horizon, and hues of red started appearing in the sky. Almost nightfall. "Sergeant Ross, get your men to their transports. Every 'MechWarrior should be in the transport that carries his equipment, because we're going in weapons hot. We deploy in about fifteen minutes. Got it?" Lieutenant Colonel Allaire handed the Coredian sergeant a list of personnel assignments.

Meanwhile, the token six-ship rebel fleet sailed with the Coredian Navy for the northern end of Woodyeen Island...

"Yes, sir." She saluted crisply and handed out the assignments to the mechwarriors then they climbed into their cockpits.

Fifteen minutes later, they were ready and the Orca transports lifted off with their cargo and headed towards Woodyeen.

18 August 2078
2141 GMT -3*
Easternmost point on Woodyeen Island

"Five more minutes until landing, get your mecha powered up, we engage as soon as we hit the ground!" Lieutenant Colonel Allaire called over the comm as he powered up his own Timber Wolf IIIC.

But, as the transports landed, and the mecha disgorged from their transports' hangars, there was no enemy to be found, at least not on their scopes...

But as Keith toggled on the HUD light amplification (ooc: basically night vision), he saw something else. Powered-down mecha with people running towards them, coming out of a small, makeshift building.

Caught off guard. Yesssss! "Enemies powering up, seven hundred meters west!"

The Lieutenant Colonel fired his pulse lasers at one of the enemies climbing up to his 'Mech's cockpit, and picked him off quite easily, his victim falling ten meters to the ground, fried by the weapons fire. He changed his target to another scrambling 'MechWarrior, and felled him long before he reached his equipment.

Three other 'Mechs, assault-class Maulers (http://www.solaris7.com/TRO/HTMLBattleMech/BattleMechInfo.asp?ID=431), managed to power up, and their somewhat confused pilots fired Alpha Strikes at the oncoming invaders. Keith received most of the fire as point, but the shots weren't that accurate, and caused scattered, light damage all over his 'Mech, as if a shotgun had been fired from beyond optimal range.

Both Whitfield and the Lieutenant Colonel responded by sending two blue bolts of energy each into the cockpits of one of the Maulers, taking it down. That left two...

*OOC: Yes, there is a time zone change.

Going in hot, Taylor chose the pulse lasers and sent spears of coherent light into one of the remaining Maulers while PPCs from the other mechs attacked the other. They too tried to counterattack, but between Taylor and the mechwarriors, it was nothing more than a pretty light show.

While the battle raged outside, some hapless officer inside the command shack sent a transmission to the nearest military base, for relay to White Diamond, stating that an unknown quantity of rebel forces had landed.

Meanwhile, outside, the pretty light show continued. As Taylor continued to send red pulse laser rounds into one of the Maulers, the two survivors made sure to give Keith going-away presents, firing another shotgun-like round of fire into his 'Mech. His anti-missile system shot down a few of their inbound missiles, but the rest of the enemy fire splattered across scattered sections of his armor, lighting up the damage display on his HUD with yellow.

Meanwhile, as Keith's PPCs came online, he noticed that the 'Mech Taylor had been firing on had a cockpit that wouldn't last much longer, and fired two blue bolts of energy at it, frying the pilot inside and causing the 90-ton assault platform to fall backwards with a loud thud as it hit the ground. And, with only a few seconds at most in the battle, he didn't have to worry about heat much...

Meanwhile, the PPC fire from the other six 'Mechwarriors peeled off most of the other Mauler's armor, but it would survive the first round of fire. As Keith redirected his pulse lasers to fire at it, Whitfield noticed that one of its legs was nearly destroyed, and sent his next round of PPC fire into the right leg, destroying it and disabling the last 'Mech. Its pilot would be taken alive.

"Sergeant Ross, go with the politician to scout out a perimeter twenty kilometers out. Let me know if you run into anything that would require fire support." Whitfield, knowing that he was the politician in the group, wordlessly upped his throttle, steering his 'Mech into the west...

-------------------------

Batangas Bay Military Installation
375 nautical miles west-northwest of rebel landing zone

"Sir, we've received a transmission from one of the eastern garrisons." The technical sergeant monitoring friendly transmissions pointed at a computer screen as he summoned his executive officer. "They say they've been attacked."

"Forward it to White Diamond. My guess is that the Emperor will order combat to be drawn into the cities. Pending his response, I shall take the initiative of ordering redeployment of eastern forces inland for the time being."

"Yes, sir." The sergeant programmed the message into the base's hyperpulse generator and sent it on its way.

About twenty minutes after the first shots in the war for Woodyeen were fired, a nondescript transmission from Earth deposited itself in the White Diamond Ground Command Headquarter's databanks. An equally nondescript technical sergeant looked it over as it came in.

"The rebels attacking Woodyeen this quickly after the earthquake? Interesting. The Dark Lord will want to see this...or maybe not." He forwarded it to his executive officer, who immediately forwarded it to his superior, who forwarded it to the Dark Lord's personal security unit with equal haste.

About fifty minutes after it had been sent, the Dark Lord stood with the transmission in his hands. The unfortunate captain who delivered it died a painful death from asphyxiation, as the Dark Lord flew into a rage and collapsed his trachea in only a couple of seconds. But, he couldn't ignore the information in the transmission, so he sent a reply, carbon-copied to all military installations on the Woodyeen:

DISPATCH FROM DARTH EBOLUS
TO: ALL MILITARY AUTHORITIES ON WOODYEEN, EARTH
SUBJECT: REBEL ATTACKS
ENCRYPTION 432VE6.7J5

Eastern units have reported engagement by traitor forces. Prepare for
more attacks. Draw the enemy into urban areas and use the oppurtunity to
force the enemy to kill civilians whenever possible. Record footage of enemies
killing civilians whenever possible and transmit to White Diamond.

<<END DISPATCH>>

The footage of rebels killing civilians would make excellent propaganda.

While the battle raged outside, some hapless officer inside the command shack sent a transmission to the nearest military base, for relay to White Diamond, stating that an unknown quantity of rebel forces had landed.

Meanwhile, outside, the pretty light show continued. As Taylor continued to send red pulse laser rounds into one of the Maulers, the two survivors made sure to give Keith going-away presents, firing another shotgun-like round of fire into his 'Mech. His anti-missile system shot down a few of their inbound missiles, but the rest of the enemy fire splattered across scattered sections of his armor, lighting up the damage display on his HUD with yellow.

Meanwhile, as Keith's PPCs came online, he noticed that the 'Mech Taylor had been firing on had a cockpit that wouldn't last much longer, and fired two blue bolts of energy at it, frying the pilot inside and causing the 90-ton assault platform to fall backwards with a loud thud as it hit the ground. And, with only a few seconds at most in the battle, he didn't have to worry about heat much...
"Hey! I didn't need any help!" Taylor yelled to Keith.

Meanwhile, the PPC fire from the other six 'Mechwarriors peeled off most of the other Mauler's armor, but it would survive the first round of fire. As Keith redirected his pulse lasers to fire at it, Whitfield noticed that one of its legs was nearly destroyed, and sent his next round of PPC fire into the right leg, destroying it and disabling the last 'Mech. Its pilot would be taken alive.

"Sergeant Ross, go with the politician to scout out a perimeter twenty kilometers out. Let me know if you run into anything that would require fire support." Whitfield, knowing that he was the politician in the group, wordlessly upped his throttle, steering his 'Mech into the west...
"Yes sir." Sergeant Ross increased her throttle and headed after Whitifield to the west.

Meanwhile, the Coredian fleet began moving into position on the north and west sides and began, after using the satellites to scope out the enemy, to send airstrikes out to recon and soften up the beachheads and bases before the invasion begins...

---
Jurai

The other Wraiths were nearly healed by the medics, almost to the point of remembering their own names now.

"Hey! I didn't need any help!" Taylor yelled to Keith.

"You want to fight the rest of this campaign alone, without support then, Major?" Keith asked Taylor curtly.

"Yes sir." Sergeant Ross increased her throttle and headed after Whitifield to the west.

The two didn't find much on their scopes, nothing worth firing at, as they approached the twenty kilometer mark. Whitfield reached out with the Force, to see if there was anything noteworthy that the sensors weren't picking up, such as powered-down forces. Well, there really isn't anything in the area...

"Sergeant, let's make our way to the north to the coast, then turn back south until we hit the ocean--I want to make certain the landing zone is clear before I report back. Though I don't sense anything."

Meanwhile, the Coredian fleet began moving into position on the north and west sides and began, after using the satellites to scope out the enemy, to send airstrikes out to recon and soften up the beachheads and bases before the invasion begins...

Babuyanest Military Installation
70 nautical miles north of Woodyeen Island

Brigadier General Zerstörer sighed, deep in his underground bunker. Yet another night at this remote hellhole of a military installation. Nothing to pass the time, and yet, he couldn't really fall asleep either.

Of course, his loyalty to the Dark Lord had been "sufficiently assured" well before he was assigned here, so he dared not question the orders...

His boredom was interrupted by the radar noncom's shouts. "Sir, we have contacts, by air. Somewhere between thirty and forty..." The noncom paused. "Thirty-six."

"Very well, prepare anti-aircraft defenses."

The 'Mechwarrior barracks at the base bustled with activity when an explosion rocked the mess hall, across the road. Four Cauldron Born (http://www.solaris7.com/tro/BattleMech/BattleMechInfo.asp?ID=4560)s (Variant A) powered up, and started to fire their extended-range lasers at the incoming air targets. A few pulse laser turrets on the base also contributed to the defense, filling the night sky with streams of green light.

Meanwhile, enemy strafing runs took out most of the guard towers on the perimeter of the base...

---

Jurai

The other Wraiths were nearly healed by the medics, almost to the point of remembering their own names now.

Though he wouldn't yet be able to identify his name, Peter Sorensen awoke, in much the same condition that Keith Allaire had when he had regained consciousness. Able to form elementary questions in his mind, he still had difficulty expressing them.

"Where...am...I?" he asked slowly and cautiously. The medics would have to go through much the same orientation process as Master Tsunade did with Keith a little more than a week ago...

"You want to fight the rest of this campaign alone, without support then, Major?" Keith asked Taylor curtly.
Taylor tried to think of a retort, failed, and resorted to pouting in his mech.

The two didn't find much on their scopes, nothing worth firing at, as they approached the twenty kilometer mark. Whitfield reached out with the Force, to see if there was anything noteworthy that the sensors weren't picking up, such as powered-down forces. Well, there really isn't anything in the area...

"Sergeant, let's make our way to the north to the coast, then turn back south until we hit the ocean--I want to make certain the landing zone is clear before I report back. Though I don't sense anything."
"All right." The sergeant helped Whitfield search for anything else while heading north.

Babuyanest Military Installation
70 nautical miles north of Woodyeen Island

Brigadier General Zerstörer sighed, deep in his underground bunker. Yet another night at this remote hellhole of a military installation. Nothing to pass the time, and yet, he couldn't really fall asleep either.

Of course, his loyalty to the Dark Lord had been "sufficiently assured" well before he was assigned here, so he dared not question the orders...

His boredom was interrupted by the radar noncom's shouts. "Sir, we have contacts, by air. Somewhere between thirty and forty..." The noncom paused. "Thirty-six."

"Very well, prepare anti-aircraft defenses."

The 'Mechwarrior barracks at the base bustled with activity when an explosion rocked the mess hall, across the road. Four Cauldron Born (http://www.solaris7.com/tro/BattleMech/BattleMechInfo.asp?ID=4560)s (Variant A) powered up, and started to fire their extended-range lasers at the incoming air targets. A few pulse laser turrets on the base also contributed to the defense, filling the night sky with streams of green light.

Meanwhile, enemy strafing runs took out most of the guard towers on the perimeter of the base...
Out of thirty six fighters, about 25 made it back, but it was enough recon. Missiles soon streaked into the sky from the Navy ships, aiming for the base in a major swarm.

---



Though he wouldn't yet be able to identify his name, Peter Sorensen awoke, in much the same condition that Keith Allaire had when he had regained consciousness. Able to form elementary questions in his mind, he still had difficulty expressing them.

"Where...am...I?" he asked slowly and cautiously. The medics would have to go through much the same orientation process as Master Tsunade did with Keith a little more than a week ago...
"You're in the Jedi Temple's medical ward." Sakura smiled. The pink-haired apprentice of Tsunade continued speaking. "I helped heal your brains up. Can you remember your name?"

Taylor tried to think of a retort, failed, and resorted to pouting in his mech.

Well, that shut him up. Like it does to everybody, heh heh. The Lieutenant Colonel powered down his 'Mech to inspect the salvage possibilities, lightsaber in hand just in case someone tried to pull something from the command shack. Hmm, probably should go in there, just to make sure.

When he entered the shack, he found the specialist who had sent the transmission warning of the attack earlier. The comm sergeant, seeing the dormant lightsaber in Keith's hand, panicked. "Oh, please don't kill me, Dark Lord! I did what I could..."

"Calm down. I'm not the Dark Lord, as you would know if you were paying much attention to events outside. Put your hands up, and I'm not going to hurt you."

The panicked specialist, unable to escape because Keith blocked the exit, reluctantly did as he was told. "If you're not the Dark Lord, then who are you?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Keith Allaire of the pre-war military. Name, rank and serial number, please."

"Technical Sergeant Dmitri Allaynov, 6843039630," the prisoner of war stammered in a shaky voice.

Keith reached for his commlink. "Major, get down here! We've got a POW to deal with, and I need to concern myself with other things at the moment."

"All right." The sergeant helped Whitfield search for anything else while heading north.

The two headed north to the beach, encountered nothing of note, then headed back to the southern beach, where much the same story prevailed.

Whitfield fingered his commlink. "Colonel Allaire, we haven't found anything anywhere near the perimeter you set."

"Very well, then. Set up a patrol in the area, just to make sure, because we're going to need a 'tripwire' force for the next few hours.. I'll relieve you in about two hours," came the reply.

"Yes, Colonel." Whitfield closed the comm, and advised Sergeant Ross that the two would be pacing back and forth between the two coastlines for a while.

Out of thirty six fighters, about 25 made it back, but it was enough recon. Missiles soon streaked into the sky from the Navy ships, aiming for the base in a major swarm.

The missiles destroyed nearly everything that wasn't underground and mobile, except for the base's hyperpulse generator, which would require concentrated fire to destroy. The base's network of turrets stopped firing as the three Turret Control Towers each succumbed to the carpet missile bombardment. The four 'Mechs defending the base ran to the coast, but found the enemy navy was too far out of range to return fire.

However, much of the base was underground, and General Zerstörer ordered his men to maximum alert for an amphibious assault.

---

"You're in the Jedi Temple's medical ward." Sakura smiled. The pink-haired apprentice of Tsunade continued speaking. "I helped heal your brains up. Can you remember your name?"

As Peter Sorensen looked up at Sakura, a smile crossed his face. He struggled to recall his name, but it was beyond him. "Uh, no...I can't...remember...anything."

Well, that shut him up. Like it does to everybody, heh heh. The Lieutenant Colonel powered down his 'Mech to inspect the salvage possibilities, lightsaber in hand just in case someone tried to pull something from the command shack. Hmm, probably should go in there, just to make sure.

When he entered the shack, he found the specialist who had sent the transmission warning of the attack earlier. The comm sergeant, seeing the dormant lightsaber in Keith's hand, panicked. "Oh, please don't kill me, Dark Lord! I did what I could..."

"Calm down. I'm not the Dark Lord, as you would know if you were paying much attention to events outside. Put your hands up, and I'm not going to hurt you."

The panicked specialist, unable to escape because Keith blocked the exit, reluctantly did as he was told. "If you're not the Dark Lord, then who are you?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Keith Allaire of the pre-war military. Name, rank and serial number, please."

"Technical Sergeant Dmitri Allaynov, 6843039630," the prisoner of war stammered in a shaky voice.

Keith reached for his commlink. "Major, get down here! We've got a POW to deal with, and I need to concern myself with other things at the moment."
Taylor headed down to the base with a sigh and entered. "What's up?"


The two headed north to the beach, encountered nothing of note, then headed back to the southern beach, where much the same story prevailed.

Whitfield fingered his commlink. "Colonel Allaire, we haven't found anything anywhere near the perimeter you set."

"Very well, then. Set up a patrol in the area, just to make sure, because we're going to need a 'tripwire' force for the next few hours.. I'll relieve you in about two hours," came the reply.



The missiles destroyed nearly everything that wasn't underground and mobile, except for the base's hyperpulse generator, which would require concentrated fire to destroy. The base's network of turrets stopped firing as the three Turret Control Towers each succumbed to the carpet missile bombardment. The four 'Mechs defending the base ran to the coast, but found the enemy navy was too far out of range to return fire.

However, much of the base was underground, and General Zerstörer ordered his men to maximum alert for an amphibious assault.
"Excellent." Admiral Basque smirked as he heard reports of the mechs coming to the coast. "Battleships, fire at will! Marines, prepare to assault!"

The battleships sundered the enemy mechs with a deafening broadside of hypersonic shells. Landing craft and LAATs zoomed ahead of the rest of the fleet to begin the invasion itself.

---

As Peter Sorensen looked up at Sakura, a smile crossed his face. He struggled to recall his name, but it was beyond him. "Uh, no...I can't...remember...anything."
"Hmm. Let's try healing you some more, then." Sakura said and then continued knitting his memories. After a while. "How about now?"

Taylor headed down to the base with a sigh and entered. "What's up?"

Upon seeing another person with a lightsaber, the young prisoner of war freaked out again, because he did not know how to differentiate between Jedi and Sith Wraiths. "So, yes, I see that you ARE going to kill me! You only want to get your servant to do your dirty work for you!" the prisoner yelled, afraid that if Keith didn't kill him, Taylor would.

"Calm down, he's not going to hurt you either." Keith tried to sound as reassuring as possible, but the prisoner continued to yell gibberish, believing that the Dark Lord wanted to kill him for his failure. "Taylor, we've got a POW here who's got the crazy idea that I'm out to get him. See if you can't get him to calm down a bit, preferably without mind tricks, 'cause he thinks we're out to enslave him. Or something. His name and rank: Tech Sergeant Dmitri Allaynov. I need to attend to other things."

"You're here to kill me, aren't you! Just get it over with!" the prisoner frantically yelled at Taylor, figuring if he was to die, he wanted to make it as quick and painless as possible.

However, Keith could not leave, yet. As he waited for the POW to calm down, he procured his commlink from his pockets, and ordered the techies to set up the MFB and to stand by for further orders.

"Excellent." Admiral Basque smirked as he heard reports of the mechs coming to the coast. "Battleships, fire at will! Marines, prepare to assault!"

The battleships sundered the enemy mechs with a deafening broadside of hypersonic shells. Landing craft and LAATs zoomed ahead of the rest of the fleet to begin the invasion itself.

One of the 'Mechs exploded in a ball of flame as its reactor went critical; the other three were knocked down by the heavy shells but survived, albeit one had an arm and a missile rack blown off. The three heavily damaged survivors got back up, and started firing at the landing craft with long-range missiles and lasers.

Meanwhile, General Zerstörer quietly sent orders to all infantry to prepare to deploy white phosphorous on the enemy as they entered the bunkers. For, if this was a fight that could not be won, the Dark Lord would at least want as many of the enemy taken out as possible, via any means possible. The base's lights went out, in a calcuated attempt to make the enemy fumble around the base; if they found their way around too easily, they could be blinded easily enough.

------------------------------

"Hmm. Let's try healing you some more, then." Sakura said and then continued knitting his memories. After a while. "How about now?"

"Uh..." Peter managed to recall the information in the same way that Keith had--by remembering what his old military ID said. Thinking he was a prisoner of war, he stated in monotone, "Major Peter Sorensen, serial number..." he paused for a second as he strained to recall it..."6890392089."

Upon seeing another person with a lightsaber, the young prisoner of war freaked out again, because he did not know how to differentiate between Jedi and Sith Wraiths. "So, yes, I see that you ARE going to kill me! You only want to get your servant to do your dirty work for you!" the prisoner yelled, afraid that if Keith didn't kill him, Taylor would.

"Calm down, he's not going to hurt you either." Keith tried to sound as reassuring as possible, but the prisoner continued to yell gibberish, believing that the Dark Lord wanted to kill him for his failure. "Taylor, we've got a POW here who's got the crazy idea that I'm out to get him. See if you can't get him to calm down a bit, preferably without mind tricks, 'cause he thinks we're out to enslave him. Or something. His name and rank: Tech Sergeant Dmitri Allaynov. I need to attend to other things."

"You're here to kill me, aren't you! Just get it over with!" the prisoner frantically yelled at Taylor, figuring if he was to die, he wanted to make it as quick and painless as possible.

However, Keith could not leave, yet. As he waited for the POW to calm down, he procured his commlink from his pockets, and ordered the techies to set up the MFB and to stand by for further orders.
"No. I'm not going to kill you." Taylor echoed the Lt. Colonel as he rolled his eyes. "We're here to end the Dark Lord's reign."

One of the 'Mechs exploded in a ball of flame as its reactor went critical; the other three were knocked down by the heavy shells but survived, albeit one had an arm and a missile rack blown off. The three heavily damaged survivors got back up, and started firing at the landing craft with long-range missiles and lasers.
The laser cannons of the landing craft dealt with the missiles but they were damaged by the lasers. However, a second volley of shells rained down upon the mechs to complete the damage done the first time around.

Meanwhile, General Zerstörer quietly sent orders to all infantry to prepare to deploy white phosphorous on the enemy as they entered the bunkers. For, if this was a fight that could not be won, the Dark Lord would at least want as many of the enemy taken out as possible, via any means possible. The base's lights went out, in a calcuated attempt to make the enemy fumble around the base; if they found their way around too easily, they could be blinded easily enough.
The marines won't be so easily deluded, as their advanced helmets were capable of handling nighttime ops and spec'ed to handle all but nuclear-flash detonations. Still, the Marines will take losses from the chemical weapons.

------------------------------

"Uh..." Peter managed to recall the information in the same way that Keith had--by remembering what his old military ID said. Thinking he was a prisoner of war, he stated in monotone, "Major Peter Sorensen, serial number..." he paused for a second as he strained to recall it..."6890392089."
"Well, Major. It appears that my job is done." Sakura smiled. "You're free from the Dark Lord's grasp."

The other wraiths were assured in similiar ways.

"No. I'm not going to kill you." Taylor echoed the Lt. Colonel as he rolled his eyes. "We're here to end the Dark Lord's reign."

Why, of all people, did I have to send out the politician for the scouting? I sure could use him right now, Keith thought to himself.

The prisoner of war didn't believe a word Taylor said. "It's a Sith mind trick!" he yelled. "The Dark Lord is going to kill me for my failure!"

You might be more believable if you didn't roll your eyes. Just a thought. Keith revealed his thought to Taylor before adding, "We are fighting against the Dark Lord. His will is not ours."

But the man was too afraid to be reasoned with. Fear does things to people.

The laser cannons of the landing craft dealt with the missiles but they were damaged by the lasers. However, a second volley of shells rained down upon the mechs to complete the damage done the first time around.

The marines won't be so easily deluded, as their advanced helmets were capable of handling nighttime ops and spec'ed to handle all but nuclear-flash detonations. Still, the Marines will take losses from the chemical weapons.

As the pilots of the 'Mechs realized they were going to die, they ran towards the Coredian troop formations in hopes of turning their destruction against the enemy, as their reactors went critical and became huge fireballs.

Meanwhile, infantry, equipped with blasters and fragementation grenade launchers, took up positions on the first basement floor of the massive underground bunker complex, preparing for enemy Marines to cut open the bunker doors. When, or if, the Marines entered the bunker's three main entrances, they would be met by a wall of blaster and semiautomatic grenade fire. The entrances were sufficiently narrow that only a few could enter at a time, and many would get cut down, for the Coredians would likely try to send thousands of men through a bottleneck that could only handle ten at a time--a recipe for slaughter. Unfortunately, white phosphorus inside of bunkers wasn't the best of ideas, and the base was caught without remote mortars to lob some in.

Unless, of course, the Coredians wished to tie up a goodly portion of their forces with a long siege, which would only serve to give the armies of the subcontinent mainland more time to prepare...

Meanwhile, the General gave the electronic signal from deep within the caverns of the bunker complex to activate thousands of antipersonnel mines on the base grounds, mines that served as a last-ditch defense for a base about to be overwhelmed...

------------------------------

"Well, Major. It appears that my job is done." Sakura smiled. "You're free from the Dark Lord's grasp."

The other wraiths were assured in similiar ways.

"Uh, why can't I remember anything else, then?" Sorensen asked, a confused look on his face.

The other Wraiths couldn't yet comprehend what the medics said...[/QUOTE]

Secret IC

Yes, my Lord. While the base commanders were not Force-sensitive, they had suffered the wrath of the Dark Side, and were little more than slaves to Ebolus, for they were rendered just as incapable of refusing an order as the Wraiths had been before their liberation. Thus, the several base commanders on Woodyeen Island ordered the mobilization of base units, to move into the cities, as the battle for Babuyanest Military Installation raged on.

Moreover, they would also bring stocks of chemical weapons with them. Lots of chemical weapons. For the base commanders knew that Ebolus wanted as many civilians killed as possible if he was going to lose Earth to the rebellion, and it would not be too difficult to steal Coredian battle armor, wear it, and frame the Coredians for deploying the chemical weapons.

Most of the affected military installations were on Woodyeen's west coast, and near cities, so this redeployment started rapidly. At least some of this materiel was bound to reach nearby cities before the Coredians could, for they had yet to sail around either the north or the south,* and were at least a few hours away from the central western bases and cities...

*OOC: Assuming the entire Coredian fleet started from the same place, which to my knowledge it did, and the battle for Babuyanest Military Installation just started, which, to my knowledge it did, your fleet still has about four hundred nautical miles to go before reaching these bases.

Why, of all people, did I have to send out the politician for the scouting? I sure could use him right now, Keith thought to himself.

The prisoner of war didn't believe a word Taylor said. "It's a Sith mind trick!" he yelled. "The Dark Lord is going to kill me for my failure!"

You might be more believable if you didn't roll your eyes. Just a thought. Keith revealed his thought to Taylor before adding, "We are fighting against the Dark Lord. His will is not ours."

But the man was too afraid to be reasoned with. Fear does things to people.
Taylor just sighed, sat down on a chair and tried not to do anything threatening.



As the pilots of the 'Mechs realized they were going to die, they ran towards the Coredian troop formations in hopes of turning their destruction against the enemy, as their reactors went critical and became huge fireballs.
Men and women scattered, but the closest ones were blown apart by the explosions, but still the Marines came.

Meanwhile, infantry, equipped with blasters and fragementation grenade launchers, took up positions on the first basement floor of the massive underground bunker complex, preparing for enemy Marines to cut open the bunker doors. When, or if, the Marines entered the bunker's three main entrances, they would be met by a wall of blaster and semiautomatic grenade fire. The entrances were sufficiently narrow that only a few could enter at a time, and many would get cut down, for the Coredians would likely try to send thousands of men through a bottleneck that could only handle ten at a time--a recipe for slaughter. Unfortunately, white phosphorus inside of bunkers wasn't the best of ideas, and the base was caught without remote mortars to lob some in.

Unless, of course, the Coredians wished to tie up a goodly portion of their forces with a long siege, which would only serve to give the armies of the subcontinent mainland more time to prepare...
It's more than likely that they would, and did, use a hovering LAAT to slash beamlasers into the bunkers, then toss thermal detonators and other sorts of bombs into them to hopefully collapse the bunkers and let them run out of air while they headed for the prize: the hyperpulse tranciever. If we wanted to siege it, we'd use space support. As it is, the base will be bombed to submission and the troops will move on to the next one.

Meanwhile, the General gave the electronic signal from deep within the caverns of the bunker complex to activate thousands of antipersonnel mines on the base grounds, mines that served as a last-ditch defense for a base about to be overwhelmed...
When mines were activated to kill a few Marines, more hovering LAATs methodically used their cannons to blow up the mines to clear paths through the base.

Once the base was secure enough, patrols will be made to ensure that there aren't enemies on the island, then provisions will be made to conduct a full bombardment with a Star Destroyer slated to arrive soon. After that, the Marines will move on to the next one, like locusts.

------------------------------



"Uh, why can't I remember anything else, then?" Sorensen asked, a confused look on his face.
"The Sith Lord did a thorough job on your memory. You would probably only remember things of military significance." Sakura said sympathetically.

The other Wraiths couldn't yet comprehend what the medics said...
The other medics continued to work on the Wraiths.

Taylor just sighed, sat down on a chair and tried not to do anything threatening.

"Major, I gotta do this other stuff if we're to make any decent progress. Call me if you need anything, in two hours I'm planning on relieving the outer patrol. Maybe the diplomat will be willing to take over for you when he gets back, maybe I'll order him to." Keith turned to leave Taylor and his charge and take care of other things, like salvage.

By now, the techies had the MFB set up. Keith powered his 'Mech up, walked into the contraption at twenty percent throttle, then shut down the 'Mech, letting the automated equipment flash-weld replacement armor. After he came back out, he ordered it dismantled for the night.

He looked at the 'Mech's chronometer for the time. Damn. Only eighty minutes before I need to bugger out. "Salvage teams, I have presents for ya! You get to learn how to strip a 'Mech of its weapons and take them for your own, because these particular 'Mech chassis are slow and therefore crap!" Yes, sometimes the Lieutenant Colonel didn't exactly feel like being tactful...

Keith then spent the next hour teaching Coredian technicians how to cannibalize 'Mech components, because that would be how his little platoon would get things like weapons to replace any lost in battle, missile ammunition, et cetera. The Maulers' Light Gauss Rifles were removed and stashed in storage, as well as the long-range missile racks, all ammo for said weapons not already expended, a few tons of extra armor, and the various lasers that could be stripped. This war booty took up about half the transport designated for salvage, but the more marginal salvage could be replaced by better salvage as the campaign wore on.

After the Coredian techies had the right idea, Keith selected a random Coredian pilot to boss around. "Come with me, the two of us get to relieve Sergeant Ross and the politician for second shift patrol."

Men and women scattered, but the closest ones were blown apart by the explosions, but still the Marines came.

It's more than likely that they would, and did, use a hovering LAAT to slash beamlasers into the bunkers, then toss thermal detonators and other sorts of bombs into them to hopefully collapse the bunkers and let them run out of air while they headed for the prize: the hyperpulse tranciever. If we wanted to siege it, we'd use space support. As it is, the base will be bombed to submission and the troops will move on to the next one.

When mines were activated to kill a few Marines, more hovering LAATs methodically used their cannons to blow up the mines to clear paths through the base.

Once the base was secure enough, patrols will be made to ensure that there aren't enemies on the island, then provisions will be made to conduct a full bombardment with a Star Destroyer slated to arrive soon. After that, the Marines will move on to the next one, like locusts.

As the Coredians threw thermal detonators down the staircases, the troops only had a couple of seconds to retreat to the second level and seal the airlocked entrance. About half the troops blew up and/or had the oxygen sucked out of their lungs instead. Meanwhile, more troops moved up from the bottom levels up to the fifth, where they would be able to easily reinforce if need be. Unfortunately for the Coredians, the resulting booms on the first-level doors ruined most of the equipment the dead troops left behind, but not all of it.

"Set remote controlled shake-and-bake fuses on the second level, and retreat to the third." The orders came over each stormtrooper's helmet commlink, and the grunts quickly set white phosphorus remote fuses on the second level, airlocked it, and retreated to the third level. When the Coredians bursted through the second-level entrance, they would get a nasty little surprise. If there was one thing that the Woodian military had been really good at since the Christofascist Wars, it was contingency planning.

So, they want to lob bombs at us, eh? General Zerstörer thought to himself as he watched closed-circut footage of events around the base. We'll have to prepare the appropriate welcoming committee then. He then gave orders to technical units to arm the missiles contained in various underground silos with nasty cluster munitions that would flash-melt pretty much anything short of high-grade vehicle or starship armor, a process that would take a few hours. He hoped he could hold out at least that long.

"The Sith Lord did a thorough job on your memory. You would probably only remember things of military significance." Sakura said sympathetically.

The other medics continued to work on the Wraiths.

Peter Sorensen nodded. "So, when do I get arrested, booked, and charged with crimes against humanity?" He had enough of his old sense of morality restored to recognize that he would likely live a life of shame, especially after massacring tsunami victims. However, he didn't realize that he did not do these evil deeds under his own mental faculties, because he couldn't remember the events leading up to his atrocities and connect them, and he still thought of himself as a POW.

He would need more treatment, it seemed.

Meanwhile, two more confused Wraiths woke up, wanting to know what had happened...

"Major, I gotta do this other stuff if we're to make any decent progress. Call me if you need anything, in two hours I'm planning on relieving the outer patrol. Maybe the diplomat will be willing to take over for you when he gets back, maybe I'll order him to." Keith turned to leave Taylor and his charge and take care of other things, like salvage.
"All right." Taylor leaned back on his chair and prepared to watch paint dry for the next two hours.

By now, the techies had the MFB set up. Keith powered his 'Mech up, walked into the contraption at twenty percent throttle, then shut down the 'Mech, letting the automated equipment flash-weld replacement armor. After he came back out, he ordered it dismantled for the night.

He looked at the 'Mech's chronometer for the time. Damn. Only eighty minutes before I need to bugger out. "Salvage teams, I have presents for ya! You get to learn how to strip a 'Mech of its weapons and take them for your own, because these particular 'Mech chassis are slow and therefore crap!" Yes, sometimes the Lieutenant Colonel didn't exactly feel like being tactful...

Keith then spent the next hour teaching Coredian technicians how to cannibalize 'Mech components, because that would be how his little platoon would get things like weapons to replace any lost in battle, missile ammunition, et cetera. The Maulers' Light Gauss Rifles were removed and stashed in storage, as well as the long-range missile racks, all ammo for said weapons not already expended, a few tons of extra armor, and the various lasers that could be stripped. This war booty took up about half the transport designated for salvage, but the more marginal salvage could be replaced by better salvage as the campaign wore on.

After the Coredian techies had the right idea, Keith selected a random Coredian pilot to boss around. "Come with me, the two of us get to relieve Sergeant Ross and the politician for second shift patrol."
Corporal Halling was selected as the pilot for whom Keith will boss around and he climbed into the cockpit and readied to go. Meanwhile, the other mechwarriors and the techies learned how to change the weapons of the mechs from Keith's training so they can better use their machines.


As the Coredians threw thermal detonators down the staircases, the troops only had a couple of seconds to retreat to the second level and seal the airlocked entrance. About half the troops blew up and/or had the oxygen sucked out of their lungs instead. Meanwhile, more troops moved up from the bottom levels up to the fifth, where they would be able to easily reinforce if need be. Unfortunately for the Coredians, the resulting booms on the first-level doors ruined most of the equipment the dead troops left behind, but not all of it.

"Set remote controlled shake-and-bake fuses on the second level, and retreat to the third." The orders came over each stormtrooper's helmet commlink, and the grunts quickly set white phosphorus remote fuses on the second level, airlocked it, and retreated to the third level. When the Coredians bursted through the second-level entrance, they would get a nasty little surprise. If there was one thing that the Woodian military had been really good at since the Christofascist Wars, it was contingency planning.

So, they want to lob bombs at us, eh? General Zerstörer thought to himself as he watched closed-circut footage of events around the base. We'll have to prepare the appropriate welcoming committee then. He then gave orders to technical units to arm the missiles contained in various underground silos with nasty cluster munitions that would flash-melt pretty much anything short of high-grade vehicle or starship armor, a process that would take a few hours. He hoped he could hold out at least that long.
The base effectively secure except for the enemy troops hiding in the bunker levels, the Marine Corps prepared to move on, placing tracking beacons for the Star Destroyer to use for bombardment. Between the time the Corps left and the Star Destroyer arrived, air patrols will maintain their sightseeing over the base just in case the enemy troops got any ideas. Now, they will move on to the next base, further inland...



Peter Sorensen nodded. "So, when do I get arrested, booked, and charged with crimes against humanity?" He had enough of his old sense of morality restored to recognize that he would likely live a life of shame, especially after massacring tsunami victims. However, he didn't realize that he did not do these evil deeds under his own mental faculties, because he couldn't remember the events leading up to his atrocities and connect them, and he still thought of himself as a POW.

He would need more treatment, it seemed.

Meanwhile, two more confused Wraiths woke up, wanting to know what had happened...
"Well, we will need to conduct memory reconstruction therapy first before we do anything to you. You're a guest here." Sakura smiled. A tray of food was brought to Peter. "Here, have some food and orange juice."

"All right." Taylor leaned back on his chair and prepared to watch paint dry for the next two hours.

--------------------------

Corporal Halling was selected as the pilot for whom Keith will boss around and he climbed into the cockpit and readied to go. Meanwhile, the other mechwarriors and the techies learned how to change the weapons of the mechs from Keith's training so they can better use their machines.

Over the next two hours, Taylor watched a lot more than paint dry. The prisoner of war continued to yell at him to get the slaughter over with, to kill him, while ranting about his failure and some vague plot of the Dark Lord to kill everybody in sight.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel Allaire climbed into his 'Mech, resisting the temptation to take one of the lighter and faster scouts instead. Corporal Halling won't be able to keep up with me if I do that, and that would be a problem... "Follow me, Corporal," he ordered over the intercom as he took his equipment into the west at full throttle to meet up with the existing patrol. Because everything in the 'Mech company had a top speed equal to or greater than Keith's 'Mech, keeping up wouldn't be an issue.

When Whitfield and Sergeant Ross appeared on the scopes, Keith hailed them. "Sergeant Ross, you're relieved for the night. And I need to ask the politician a favor."

"And that favor would be?" Whitfield asked, as if he was an inquisitive child.

"Taylor's been babysitting a POW who thinks that we're all a bunch of Sith who want to kill him. The guy's just been ranting about the Dark Lord wanting to kill him for his failure, and we haven't been able to calm him down. I'd prefer you 'convince' him we're not gonna kill him without your little bag of mindtrick goodies, because he's really paranoid and I'm afraid mindtricks would backfire. But I don't know if he'll ever calm down."

I can just imagine how well Taylor went over with him. "You know, I have tried to duck being a politician whenever possible for the last three decades..."

"Let me rephrase that, then, Master Politician. That's a direct order."

"Yes, Colonel, but I'm a retired politician. I've been retired since, oh, before you were born. And 'politicians' on the Jedi Council get to decide whether or not to train you," Whitfield answered calmly, silently wishing he had never entered politics for all the mess his proposals from forty years ago had created a week ago.

Keith let that comment slide as he took over the patrol. As Whitfield returned to the landing zone outpost, he reached out with the Force to get a better sense of what was going on, being careful not to intrude on the prisoner's mind. This was not necessary, for his fear and paranoia radiated throughout the Force.

No wonder he's so afraid. The lightsabers, and Keith's new Jedi cloak. Before he powered down his 'Mech, he completely removed his cloak, wearing instead his undershirt, with a windbreaker he had removed from his X-wing to make room for the vacuum bombs a week ago, and civilian pants. He carefully hid his primary lightsaber inside his windbreaker, so as to appear completely unarmed, and left his secondary inside the 'Mech.

He would appear as an unarmed, old man. Completely harmless. He sent a telepathic message the more impatient Jedi currently supervising the prisoner of war. Taylor, I'm here to relieve you.

As he entered the command shack, he held his hands open, looking like some random old man who wasn't about to hurt anybody. "Nobody around here is going to hurt you. I know this man--" he gestured to Taylor-- "and he is not going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you. Nobody is."

It took about fifteen minutes to calm the jittery POW, but eventually, Whitfield managed to convince him that there was no threat to him, no Jedi mind tricks required.

The base effectively secure except for the enemy troops hiding in the bunker levels, the Marine Corps prepared to move on, placing tracking beacons for the Star Destroyer to use for bombardment. Between the time the Corps left and the Star Destroyer arrived, air patrols will maintain their sightseeing over the base just in case the enemy troops got any ideas. Now, they will move on to the next base, further inland...

"General, they're not taking the bait. Looks like they're packing up to leave."

General Zerstörer sighed. "Well, Lieutenant, how much do they have to pack up?"

"Well, it looks like they're taking the time to mine the base, but I can't tell what exactly they're deploying over the CCTV. Nor can the underground seismographic sensors."

"Then we will have enough time to leave them a going away present." The General raised the head ICBM technician on the intercom. "How much longer till all the missiles are reoutfitted?"

"An hour and a half, General."

"Okay." The General looked at the seismographic sensor readings. "What? They're already leaving!? How many are ready to go right now?"

"We've wired twenty heavy incendiary cluster missiles, sir, out of a hundred and thirty."

"Deploy the twenty immediately. Send the missiles no more than a hundred feet into the air before they turn around and hit the ground again."

"Are they that maneuverable, General?"

"They'll go for horizontal flight for a few seconds, and they'll hit about a half mile from the depots, but they'll do it."

"Yes, sir."

About fifteen seconds later, the ground opened up, and twenty cruise missiles carrying cluster white-phosphorus warheads shot up, barely clearing the ground before leveling out into horizontal flight, destined mostly between the space between the underground missile depots and the sea. They would only be in the air for a few seconds before they deployed their deadly miniature clusters, and would impact the ground only seconds after that, their incendiary warheads modified enough to flash-melt all but the highest-grade armor...

There was one more thing that the General was forgetting. He had a bad feeling about this. "All units, retreat to thirtieth level or below (ooc: the bunker complex has thirty-five), and prepare for heavy siege." Enemies didn't just randomly abandon bases like this unless they had a good reason. Hopefully, the anticipated siege wouldn't reach a hundred and fifty meters underground. If the enemy gave up before then, the Dark Lord may yet be able to squeeze some havoc from this base...

"Well, we will need to conduct memory reconstruction therapy first before we do anything to you. You're a guest here." Sakura smiled. A tray of food was brought to Peter. "Here, have some food and orange juice."

"A guest? But, I'm a war criminal!" Sorensen exclaimed uncontrollably. Nevertheless, he was quite hungry, for he hadn't eaten real food in more than a week, and even prisoners of war had to eat...

Over the next two hours, Taylor watched a lot more than paint dry. The prisoner of war continued to yell at him to get the slaughter over with, to kill him, while ranting about his failure and some vague plot of the Dark Lord to kill everybody in sight.
Taylor was bored near to tears and that is a bad thing for the Fire Knight, especially the constant irritation of the prisoner. It took all of his self-control to remain seated right there on the chair and not simply torch something.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel Allaire climbed into his 'Mech, resisting the temptation to take one of the lighter and faster scouts instead. Corporal Halling won't be able to keep up with me if I do that, and that would be a problem... "Follow me, Corporal," he ordered over the intercom as he took his equipment into the west at full throttle to meet up with the existing patrol. Because everything in the 'Mech company had a top speed equal to or greater than Keith's 'Mech, keeping up wouldn't be an issue.
"Yes, sir." The Corporal answered and opened the throttle to keep up with the Lt. Colonel.

When Whitfield and Sergeant Ross appeared on the scopes, Keith hailed them. "Sergeant Ross, you're relieved for the night. And I need to ask the politician a favor."

"And that favor would be?" Whitfield asked, as if he was an inquisitive child.

"Taylor's been babysitting a POW who thinks that we're all a bunch of Sith who want to kill him. The guy's just been ranting about the Dark Lord wanting to kill him for his failure, and we haven't been able to calm him down. I'd prefer you 'convince' him we're not gonna kill him without your little bag of mindtrick goodies, because he's really paranoid and I'm afraid mindtricks would backfire. But I don't know if he'll ever calm down."

I can just imagine how well Taylor went over with him. "You know, I have tried to duck being a politician whenever possible for the last three decades..."

"Let me rephrase that, then, Master Politician. That's a direct order."

"Yes, Colonel, but I'm a retired politician. I've been retired since, oh, before you were born. And 'politicians' on the Jedi Council get to decide whether or not to train you," Whitfield answered calmly, silently wishing he had never entered politics for all the mess his proposals from forty years ago had created a week ago.
Sergeant Ross took the time to head back to the base and conduct some downtime with the rest of her crew.

Keith let that comment slide as he took over the patrol. As Whitfield returned to the landing zone outpost, he reached out with the Force to get a better sense of what was going on, being careful not to intrude on the prisoner's mind. This was not necessary, for his fear and paranoia radiated throughout the Force.

No wonder he's so afraid. The lightsabers, and Keith's new Jedi cloak. Before he powered down his 'Mech, he completely removed his cloak, wearing instead his undershirt, with a windbreaker he had removed from his X-wing to make room for the vacuum bombs a week ago, and civilian pants. He carefully hid his primary lightsaber inside his windbreaker, so as to appear completely unarmed, and left his secondary inside the 'Mech.

He would appear as an unarmed, old man. Completely harmless. He sent a telepathic message the more impatient Jedi currently supervising the prisoner of war. Taylor, I'm here to relieve you.

As he entered the command shack, he held his hands open, looking like some random old man who wasn't about to hurt anybody. "Nobody around here is going to hurt you. I know this man--" he gestured to Taylor-- "and he is not going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you. Nobody is."

It took about fifteen minutes to calm the jittery POW, but eventually, Whitfield managed to convince him that there was no threat to him, no Jedi mind tricks required.
Taylor sighed in relief. Thank you...

"General, they're not taking the bait. Looks like they're packing up to leave."

General Zerstörer sighed. "Well, Lieutenant, how much do they have to pack up?"

"Well, it looks like they're taking the time to mine the base, but I can't tell what exactly they're deploying over the CCTV. Nor can the underground seismographic sensors."

"Then we will have enough time to leave them a going away present." The General raised the head ICBM technician on the intercom. "How much longer till all the missiles are reoutfitted?"

"An hour and a half, General."

"Okay." The General looked at the seismographic sensor readings. "What? They're already leaving!? How many are ready to go right now?"

"We've wired twenty heavy incendiary cluster missiles, sir, out of a hundred and thirty."

"Deploy the twenty immediately. Send the missiles no more than a hundred feet into the air before they turn around and hit the ground again."

"Are they that maneuverable, General?"

"They'll go for horizontal flight for a few seconds, and they'll hit about a half mile from the depots, but they'll do it."

"Yes, sir."

About fifteen seconds later, the ground opened up, and twenty cruise missiles carrying cluster white-phosphorus warheads shot up, barely clearing the ground before leveling out into horizontal flight, destined mostly between the space between the underground missile depots and the sea. They would only be in the air for a few seconds before they deployed their deadly miniature clusters, and would impact the ground only seconds after that, their incendiary warheads modified enough to flash-melt all but the highest-grade armor...

There was one more thing that the General was forgetting. He had a bad feeling about this. "All units, retreat to thirtieth level or below (ooc: the bunker complex has thirty-five), and prepare for heavy siege." Enemies didn't just randomly abandon bases like this unless they had a good reason. Hopefully, the anticipated siege wouldn't reach a hundred and fifty meters underground. If the enemy gave up before then, the Dark Lord may yet be able to squeeze some havoc from this base...
The Marines still on the base died in horrible flash-burning of armor, skin and bones, infuriating the Admiral. The rest of them retreated to their ships. "How long before that Star Destroyer gets here?"

"Not long, sir. Another half-hour at most."

"Very well. Once it enters orbit, ensure that it conducts a full bombardment. Leave nothing alive on that base."

"Aye, sir."

And on cue a half hour later, the Star Destroyer Hailfire entered Earth orbit.

"Captain, we have pinpointed the base."

"Very well. Move into position for bombardment." The captain ordered. The Star Destroyer moved closer in orbit and primed its turbolasers. "Ready...Fire!"

Spears of deadly green light suddenly rained down on the base, melting everything it touched...

"A guest? But, I'm a war criminal!" Sorensen exclaimed uncontrollably. Nevertheless, he was quite hungry, for he hadn't eaten real food in more than a week, and even prisoners of war had to eat...
"No you're not." Master Tsunade walked in. "I am Tsunade, and I will be doing the therapy."

Taylor was bored near to tears and that is a bad thing for the Fire Knight, especially the constant irritation of the prisoner. It took all of his self-control to remain seated right there on the chair and not simply torch something.

*snip*

Taylor sighed in relief. Thank you...

You're welcome. Your lightsaber reminded him of the Wraiths, which is why mine is well hidden.

Whitfield, after calming down the prisoner, spent the next hour or so chatting with him, leaving Taylor to do as he pleased. Through this 'interrogation,' which Whitfield, inherently a diplomat, conducted in the form of informal conversation, the prisoner revealed the contents of the transmission that he had sent, and that he expected Ebolus to try to maximize civilian casualties. Whitfield planned to pass this on to Keith when he had the chance; for all of his youthful shortcomings, he would know how to counter this threat.

For that matter, Whitfield was certain of it...

The Marines still on the base died in horrible flash-burning of armor, skin and bones, infuriating the Admiral. The rest of them retreated to their ships. "How long before that Star Destroyer gets here?"

"Not long, sir. Another half-hour at most."

"Very well. Once it enters orbit, ensure that it conducts a full bombardment. Leave nothing alive on that base."

"Aye, sir."

And on cue a half hour later, the Star Destroyer Hailfire entered Earth orbit.

"Captain, we have pinpointed the base."

"Very well. Move into position for bombardment." The captain ordered. The Star Destroyer moved closer in orbit and primed its turbolasers. "Ready...Fire!"

Spears of deadly green light suddenly rained down on the base, melting everything it touched...

As those Coredian troops who managed to escape incineration boarded their transports, General Zerstörer had additional orders. "Technical crew, wire me up some more missiles, program them for TOW. As quickly as possible, please."

"Yes, General," came the prompt and obedient reply.

A half an hour later, the Star Destroyer's first turbolaser bolt struck the ground, already smoldering from the previous chemical-laced defense of the base.

"How many do we have ready for launch?" the General asked as the first thud of the turbolasers reverberated through the ground.

"Thirty of a hundred ten left, sir!"

"Launch! Yesterday!"

"Yes, sir!"

Thirty cruise missiles, again fitted with modified WP-cluster warheads, launched from deep underground, quickly flatlining before stabilizing about twenty meters above the sea. The carpet Star Destroyer bombardment intercepted four before they left the base; the remaining twenty-six were remotely guided, and headed south towards the nearest civilian population center on the Woodyeen.

If they encountered the Coredian fleet along the way, the technicians guiding them would quickly divert them, and have them dispatch their cluster warheads to thin out the crew. If they didn't encounter the fleet, they would unleash Hell upon an unsuspecting city...

Meanwhile, turbolaser bolts continued to slag the ground even more. It was a matter of time before they slagged through the bunker, for General Zerstörer lacked any resources with the range to fire upon the Star Destroyer. But, he would at least leave a nice, gift-wrapped, going-away present from hell.

"No you're not." Master Tsunade walked in. "I am Tsunade, and I will be doing the therapy."

Peter Sorensen gradually regained his composure. "Would you mind explaining to me why I am not a war criminal in the face of the deeds that I have done?"

You're welcome. Your lightsaber reminded him of the Wraiths, which is why mine is well hidden.
Oh, then it couldn't be that it happened to be red... Taylor answered sarcastically.

Whitfield, after calming down the prisoner, spent the next hour or so chatting with him, leaving Taylor to do as he pleased. Through this 'interrogation,' which Whitfield, inherently a diplomat, conducted in the form of informal conversation, the prisoner revealed the contents of the transmission that he had sent, and that he expected Ebolus to try to maximize civilian casualties. Whitfield planned to pass this on to Keith when he had the chance; for all of his youthful shortcomings, he would know how to counter this threat.

For that matter, Whitfield was certain of it...
Taylor stayed long enough to hear the confession, but left when mention of Ebolus' plan came out. He was definitely not happy about the fact that Ebolus send orders to maximize civilian deaths whenever possible and headed outside to cool off. He still has much anger in him, after all...


As those Coredian troops who managed to escape incineration boarded their transports, General Zerstörer had additional orders. "Technical crew, wire me up some more missiles, program them for TOW. As quickly as possible, please."

"Yes, General," came the prompt and obedient reply.

A half an hour later, the Star Destroyer's first turbolaser bolt struck the ground, already smoldering from the previous chemical-laced defense of the base.

"How many do we have ready for launch?" the General asked as the first thud of the turbolasers reverberated through the ground.

"Thirty of a hundred ten left, sir!"

"Launch! Yesterday!"

"Yes, sir!"

Thirty cruise missiles, again fitted with modified WP-cluster warheads, launched from deep underground, quickly flatlining before stabilizing about twenty meters above the sea. The carpet Star Destroyer bombardment intercepted four before they left the base; the remaining twenty-six were remotely guided, and headed south towards the nearest civilian population center on the Woodyeen.

If they encountered the Coredian fleet along the way, the technicians guiding them would quickly divert them, and have them dispatch their cluster warheads to thin out the crew. If they didn't encounter the fleet, they would unleash Hell upon an unsuspecting city...

Meanwhile, turbolaser bolts continued to slag the ground even more. It was a matter of time before they slagged through the bunker, for General Zerstörer lacked any resources with the range to fire upon the Star Destroyer. But, he would at least leave a nice, gift-wrapped, going-away present from hell.
The Star Destroyer continued to bombard the enemy base, using its laser cannons to deal with as many of the missiles as possible before they reached the nearest city. The fleet on the waters then began moving south a little bit for the other known base, this time to capture it relatively intact for a forward base of operations.

Peter Sorensen gradually regained his composure. "Would you mind explaining to me why I am not a war criminal in the face of the deeds that I have done?"
"It is because you were controlled by Darth Ebolus, Dark Lord of the Sith." Tsunade replied calmly as she started the therapy. "You were a slave to his will, and Jedi Whitfield freed you."

Oh, then it couldn't be that it happened to be red... Taylor answered sarcastically.

Taylor stayed long enough to hear the confession, but left when mention of Ebolus' plan came out. He was definitely not happy about the fact that Ebolus send orders to maximize civilian deaths whenever possible and headed outside to cool off. He still has much anger in him, after all...

Don't tell me you were brash enough to ignite the thing in his presence! Whitfield disregarded the sarcasm, deliberately choosing the more serious interpretation of Taylor's thoughts, as if they were spoken words. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had the slightest idea. The mere sight of your lightsaber's hilt scared him. And you will need to watch your anger carefully in the next few days, Taylor, lest it blur the line between military and civilian. And if you do not subdue your temper, it will flare in the heat of battle, and blur that line.

As Whitfield gave Taylor his telepathic scolding, he continued friendly chat with the prisoner, leaving no hint of the telepathic communications between the two Jedi. For Whitfield wanted to obscure his Jedi identity from the prisoner for as long as possible, in order to gain his trust.

The Star Destroyer continued to bombard the enemy base, using its laser cannons to deal with as many of the missiles as possible before they reached the nearest city. The fleet on the waters then began moving south a little bit for the other known base, this time to capture it relatively intact for a forward base of operations.

Ninety nautical miles and only a few minutes later, the missiles that had survived the Star Destroyer's attempts to intercept them, nine in all, scattered their cluster white phosphorus warheads over downtown Isokepe, creating a massive firestorm and burning thousands of civilians to the bone, sucking out all the oxygen from their bodies in the first place. The few thousand cluster warheads melted the plexiglass windows of many downtown condiminium buildings, incinerating the inhabitants, and creating huge skyscraper fires that were impossible to escape because of the firestorm that raged below.

Those windows not flash-melted by the incendiary cluster rounds were either sucked out of the building or forced into the building, as the firestorm created a massive air pressure differential within a second, causing even more damage, sucking oxygen out of the lungs of hapless people who otherwise would have been reasonably shielded by underground structures, or being deep within a building's superstructure, away from windows. Those downtown that did not die from massive, instantaneous burns died from asphyxiation instead.

The resulting fireball more or less instantly consumed about twenty square miles of the city center, and rapidly spread. About seven hundred thousand civilians died more or less instantly, and another three hundred thousand received severe burns that required medical treatment that was not forthcoming. Many of these victims, too, would die...

"It is because you were controlled by Darth Ebolus, Dark Lord of the Sith." Tsunade replied calmly as she started the therapy. "You were a slave to his will, and Jedi Whitfield freed you."

"Uh, could you please explain that, I'm not sure I..."

Peter's voice trailed off as suddenly he felt the intense pain of a Sith mindrape, of neurons violently torn apart, of memories of friends and family ripped away from him in an instant. And the BORG-like mindlink that took its place. He screamed and writhed in pain, feeling as though someone held a powerful vacuum cleaner to his brain and sucked out its contents.

But the mindrape was not of Tsunade's doing. He instead re-experienced the Sith mindrape he had received roughly two months prior, as Tsunade had managed to extract the dreaded memory as she gradually finished ressurecting his brain.

He panicked, frantically searching the room for the Dark Lord. "Don't let him take me!" But after a few minutes of eyes darting all over the room, Peter began to calm down...

"...Now I understand..."

Don't tell me you were brash enough to ignite the thing in his presence! Whitfield disregarded the sarcasm, deliberately choosing the more serious interpretation of Taylor's thoughts, as if they were spoken words. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had the slightest idea. The mere sight of your lightsaber's hilt scared him. And you will need to watch your anger carefully in the next few days, Taylor, lest it blur the line between military and civilian. And if you do not subdue your temper, it will flare in the heat of battle, and blur that line.

As Whitfield gave Taylor his telepathic scolding, he continued friendly chat with the prisoner, leaving no hint of the telepathic communications between the two Jedi. For Whitfield wanted to obscure his Jedi identity from the prisoner for as long as possible, in order to gain his trust.
"Hn." Taylor replied while outside. I didn't ignite my lightsaber. And if you think I'm going to hurt civilians in anger, you got another think coming. I may have an anger streak, but I know damn well where to draw the line!


Ninety nautical miles and only a few minutes later, the missiles that had survived the Star Destroyer's attempts to intercept them, nine in all, scattered their cluster white phosphorus warheads over downtown Isokepe, creating a massive firestorm and burning thousands of civilians to the bone, sucking out all the oxygen from their bodies in the first place. The few thousand cluster warheads melted the plexiglass windows of many downtown condiminium buildings, incinerating the inhabitants, and creating huge skyscraper fires that were impossible to escape because of the firestorm that raged below.

The resulting fireball more or less instantly consumed about twenty square miles of the city center, and rapidly spread. About seven hundred thousand civilians died more or less instantly, and another three hundred thousand received severe burns that required medical treatment that was not forthcoming. Many of these victims, too, would die...
Unfortunately for Whitfield, Taylor could sense a faraway firestorm in the middle of a city and he struggled to control the fury that built. Snow melted whereever he walked as the air heated up slightly around him. Then, after taking several deep breaths and counting many times, he managed to calm himself down. He hated to admit it, but Whitfield had a point. He feared the day when he would make a terrible mistake...

"Uh, could you please explain that, I'm not sure I..."

Peter's voice trailed off as suddenly he felt the intense pain of a Sith mindrape, of neurons violently torn apart, of memories of friends and family ripped away from him in an instant. And the BORG-like mindlink that took its place. He screamed and writhed in pain, feeling as though someone held a powerful vacuum cleaner to his brain and sucked out its contents.

But the mindrape was not of Tsunade's doing. He instead re-experienced the Sith mindrape he had received roughly two months prior, as Tsunade had managed to extract the dreaded memory as she gradually finished ressurecting his brain.

He panicked, frantically searching the room for the Dark Lord. "Don't let him take me!" But after a few minutes of eyes darting all over the room, Peter began to calm down...

"...Now I understand..."
"I'm glad. It's a bad memory, to be sure, but it's a necessary one for you to wash guilt away." Tsunade said. "I'll have my apprentice give you some clothes while I help the others."

"Hn." Taylor replied while outside. I didn't ignite my lightsaber. And if you think I'm going to hurt civilians in anger, you got another think coming. I may have an anger streak, but I know damn well where to draw the line!

Unfortunately for Whitfield, Taylor could sense a faraway firestorm in the middle of a city and he struggled to control the fury that built. Snow melted whereever he walked as the air heated up slightly around him. Then, after taking several deep breaths and counting many times, he managed to calm himself down. He hated to admit it, but Whitfield had a point. He feared the day when he would make a terrible mistake...

Whitfield sensed the firestorm in Isokepe as well, and knew there would be more...

Death and destruction, Taylor, this is what happens when you combine anger and stubbornness. You are not dealing with a conventional enemy, Taylor, you are dealing with an enemy who will try to force you to make rash decisions, decisions that you will regret for the rest of your life. Decisions that will blur the line between civilians and military for all but the most disciplined. Nor will this be the last firestorm, Taylor. You must control your anger, or it will lead to death for those who deserve none.

This telepathic conversation with Taylor, if it could really be considered a conversation, reminded Whitfield of his own days as a young, abrasive, militaristic Member of Parliament, the days when he was only a few years older than Taylor is now, days that had not come back to haunt him until now, forty years later...

...He fervently hoped Taylor would not have to bear a similar load later in life.

"I'm glad. It's a bad memory, to be sure, but it's a necessary one for you to wash guilt away." Tsunade said. "I'll have my apprentice give you some clothes while I help the others."

"How do I defend myself against such events in the future?" Sorensen asked, not wanting to experience the mindrape again.

Whitfield sensed the firestorm in Isokepe as well, and knew there would be more...

Death and destruction, Taylor, this is what happens when you combine anger and stubbornness. You are not dealing with a conventional enemy, Taylor, you are dealing with an enemy who will try to force you to make rash decisions, decisions that you will regret for the rest of your life. Decisions that will blur the line between civilians and military for all but the most disciplined. Nor will this be the last firestorm, Taylor. You must control your anger, or it will lead to death for those who deserve none.

This telepathic conversation with Taylor, if it could really be considered a conversation, reminded Whitfield of his own days as a young, abrasive, militaristic Member of Parliament, the days when he was only a few years older than Taylor is now, days that had not come back to haunt him until now, forty years later...

...He fervently hoped Taylor would not have to bear a similar load later in life.
The words of Whitfield flew into Taylor's mind, hitting him like a freight train. The Jedi spoke truth, breaking down his anger and pride. Oh, sure, he'll still have his angry moments, but for the most part, it was a turning point for Taylor, as let known by his reply. Yes...Master.


"How do I defend myself against such events in the future?" Sorensen asked, not wanting to experience the mindrape again.
"We can teach you." Tsunade said. "You are in the right place to learn how to deal with mind attacks, after all."

The words of Whitfield flew into Taylor's mind, hitting him like a freight train. The Jedi spoke truth, breaking down his anger and pride. Oh, sure, he'll still have his angry moments, but for the most part, it was a turning point for Taylor, as let known by his reply. Yes...Master.

I will hold you to those words, Knight Masaki.

Whitfield waited for the imminent sunrise, when Lieutenant Colonel Allaire and Corporal Halling would most likely return from their patrol. He knew that the two didn't particularly respect each other, but he also knew that the last thing Keith wanted to do after his liberation from slavery to the Sith was killing civilians. Moreover, Whitfield sensed that their mutual commander's tactical training would be absolutely critical in forcing the enemy military to separate itself from its civilian "shields."

He knew that his commander's Force telepathy skills were far from developed, and that he lacked sufficient attunement in said skills to hold a telepathic conversation over several miles. Nevertheless, he did not wish to antagonize the prisoner still sitting in front of him by using his commlink, and conversing with one of the people who had made him so afraid...

Taylor, could you please tell Keith over commlink of the enemy's intentions regarding civilians? You need not tell him of the intracacies of our conversation, only relay that which started it.

"We can teach you." Tsunade said. "You are in the right place to learn how to deal with mind attacks, after all."

"This teaching would be much appreciated," came the reply, as Peter Sorensen, another one of the Woodian military's former elite stood up for the first time since his operations have started. As Tsunade said something, the six-foot-four, black-haired major remembered something else. Something...fun, something the war had taken away from him.

Ice hockey, before the purges. It had become wildly popular in Evil Woody Thoughts since the massive climate changes, before he was born. He loved the sport, more specifically, playing as defenseman. As could be expected with a latent Force-sensitive, he had been damn good at it, too, in addition to being one of the most elite young officers in the military, one of the best pilots, and (unfortunately) one of the most lucrative mindrape targets.

Hmm, wonder if I could play again in my spare time...nah, not here.

Though he still couldn't remember his family, or even who he played hockey with, he still gave Tsunade thanks for digging up something that actually put a smile on his face.

I will hold you to those words, Knight Masaki.

Whitfield waited for the imminent sunrise, when Lieutenant Colonel Allaire and Corporal Halling would most likely return from their patrol. He knew that the two didn't particularly respect each other, but he also knew that the last thing Keith wanted to do after his liberation from slavery to the Sith was killing civilians. Moreover, Whitfield sensed that their mutual commander's tactical training would be absolutely critical in forcing the enemy military to separate itself from its civilian "shields."

He knew that his commander's Force telepathy skills were far from developed, and that he lacked sufficient attunement in said skills to hold a telepathic conversation over several miles. Nevertheless, he did not wish to antagonize the prisoner still sitting in front of him by using his commlink, and conversing with one of the people who had made him so afraid...

Taylor, could you please tell Keith over commlink of the enemy's intentions regarding civilians? You need not tell him of the intracacies of our conversation, only relay that which started it.
Right. Taylor unhooked his comlink. "Lt. Colonel. This is Masaki. You read, over?"


"This teaching would be much appreciated," came the reply, as Peter Sorensen, another one of the Woodian military's former elite stood up for the first time since his operations have started. As Tsunade said something, the six-foot-four, black-haired major remembered something else. Something...fun, something the war had taken away from him.

Ice hockey, before the purges. It had become wildly popular in Evil Woody Thoughts since the massive climate changes, before he was born. He loved the sport, more specifically, playing as defenseman. As could be expected with a latent Force-sensitive, he had been damn good at it, too, in addition to being one of the most elite young officers in the military, one of the best pilots, and (unfortunately) one of the most lucrative mindrape targets.

Hmm, wonder if I could play again in my spare time...nah, not here.

Though he still couldn't remember his family, or even who he played hockey with, he still gave Tsunade thanks for digging up something that actually put a smile on his face.
"Your welcome. Now, I'm going to help the others complete the healing. You just wait a few moments, ok?" Tsunade asked and then walked to the next former Wraith.

Right. Taylor unhooked his comlink. "Lt. Colonel. This is Masaki. You read, over?"

"Allaire here, reading loud and clear. What do you need, over?" Please don't tell me the politician couldn't calm the prisoner.

"You're welcome. Now, I'm going to help the others complete the healing. You just wait a few moments, ok?" Tsunade asked and then walked to the next former Wraith.

"Yes, ma'am." Sorensen waited for Tsunade to assist the four others.

"Allaire here, reading loud and clear. What do you need, over?" Please don't tell me the politician couldn't calm the prisoner.
As calmly as possible, Taylor let Allaire know about the firebombing of a city somewhere to the north and that Darth Ebolus is trying to utilize maximum civilian casualties for the war effort.

"Yes, ma'am." Sorensen waited for Tsunade to assist the four others.
Tsunade moved to the next person. "Hello, how are you doing?"

As calmly as possible, Taylor let Allaire know about the firebombing of a city somewhere to the north and that Darth Ebolus is trying to utilize maximum civilian casualties for the war effort.

"We will need to move quickly then, Major. There aren't any known major military installations near this part of the island. Hopefully, we can move into the eastern cities before the enemy has a chance to move more units in. Prepare the unit for deployment. Have the two scouts readied, because if the enemy is going to mingle with civilians, they will be incredibly useful. I'll be there in ten to twelve minutes. Out." Taylor's warning created within Keith a great sense of urgency, which he could not mask.

He set aside his anger, because he knew that the Dark Lord sought to use it as a trap to further his own ends, from painful experience. He forced himself not to think of what had happened on White Diamond between the coup and his deployment to Earth, but he knew he could not allow anger to make him repeat his atrocities...

Keith then told Corporal Halling to follow him back to base, opening his own throttle all the way in doing so.

Meanwhile, the first rays of dawn appeared over the horizon...

Tsunade moved to the next person. "Hello, how are you doing?"

Another black-haired major, this one much shorter than Sorensen, at five feet ten inches, looked up at Tsunade, and like all of the other Wraiths, had little idea of where he was, or why. Walter Ryle wore a curious look on his face, his eyes wide with wonder, for he knew not where he was, but knew that this place was...peaceful.

Walter Ryle had not experienced peace for a long time, it seemed. He couldn't remember ever having experienced it, much like the others.

"Where am I, and why am I here?" he asked softly.

"We will need to move quickly then, Major. There aren't any known major military installations near this part of the island. Hopefully, we can move into the eastern cities before the enemy has a chance to move more units in. Prepare the unit for deployment. Have the two scouts readied, because if the enemy is going to mingle with civilians, they will be incredibly useful. I'll be there in ten to twelve minutes. Out." Taylor's warning created within Keith a great sense of urgency, which he could not mask.

He set aside his anger, because he knew that the Dark Lord sought to use it as a trap to further his own ends, from painful experience. He forced himself not to think of what had happened on White Diamond between the coup and his deployment to Earth, but he knew he could not allow anger to make him repeat his atrocities...

Keith then told Corporal Halling to follow him back to base, opening his own throttle all the way in doing so.

Meanwhile, the first rays of dawn appeared over the horizon...
Despite the dawn of the sun, Taylor and the others began readying the scout mechs while Corporal Halling followed Keith back to base.


Another black-haired major, this one much shorter than Sorensen, at five feet ten inches, looked up at Tsunade, and like all of the other Wraiths, had little idea of where he was, or why. Walter Ryle wore a curious look on his face, his eyes wide with wonder, for he knew not where he was, but knew that this place was...peaceful.

Walter Ryle had not experienced peace for a long time, it seemed. He couldn't remember ever having experienced it, much like the others.

"Where am I, and why am I here?" he asked softly.
"You are in our Jedi Temple medical ward, and you're here to be healed of the mental assault the Sith Lord Ebolus gave you." Tsunade said as she began her therapy.

Despite the dawn of the sun, Taylor and the others began readying the scout mechs while Corporal Halling followed Keith back to base.

As Keith approached the base, Whitfield sensed the great urgency within him. Almost no anger, which surprised Whitfield, but rather, a fervent desire to prevent future atrocities, and atone for the atrocities of the past.

Of course, there was also the prisoner of war to deal with. Whitfield boarded him on the supply transport, where he could be watched by the technicians, technicians who wielded blasters. Fortunately, the P.O.W. had no armaments of his own to confiscate, helping Whitfield to avoid another spectacle such as the one a few hours before.

When Keith arrived, he conversed briefly with Whitfield to get more details from the interrogation before transmitting a message to Admiral Basque:

ENCRYPTION 64L3SO80W
TO: ADMIRAL BASQUE
FROM: LIEUTENANT COLONEL ALLAIRE
SUBJECT: TACTICAL NOTICE

LAST NIGHT, UPON LANDING, WE CAPTURED A SMALL ENEMY OUTPOST. A
COMMUNICATIONS SERGEANT SENT A WARNING TO THE REST OF THE
ISLAND, TO BE FORWARDED TO WHITE DIAMOND, THAT WOODYEEN ISLAND
IS UNDER ATTACK. SUBJECT WAS INTERROGATED BY JEDI WHITFIELD
OVERNIGHT, AND INDICATES THAT DARTH EBOLUS WILL ORDER MILITARY
UNITS TO MOVE INTO CITIES IN AN ATTEMPT TO MAXIMIZE CIVILIAN
CASUALTIES. EXPECT CIVILIANS TO BE USED AS HUMAN SHIELDS, AND
PLAN ACCORDINGLY.

<<END TRANSMISSION>>

After sending the warning, the Lieutenant Colonel convened the unit for the day's orders.

"In light of the information from the interrogation, it is necessary to move as quickly as possible. Whitfield and I will scout ahead, using the Shadow Cats, up to about thirty clicks ahead of the rest of the unit. Major Taylor, you are to command the heavy forces, and you will be answerable directly to me. We will all leave at the same time, i.e. as soon as all of you can grab an MRE and scarf it down. We head for Kiheli, the nearest city, about a hundred thirty kilometers northwest, and will likely be fighting for the city by midmorning. Whitfield and I will return to the main unit to brief you on the Order of Battle once we have scouted the city.

If we encounter substantial enemy forces on the way to Kiheli, we will retreat to the support of the main unit. However, in light of the information that the enemy will concentrate forces in the cities, expect anything from a completely undefended countryside up to heavily-armed convoys transporting chemical weapons.

Fifteen minutes for chow before we move out. Any questions?"

Batangas Bay Military Installation

As the sun rose, its rays revealed only an island smoldering in black, not the military installation that had stood here the day before. The Star Destroyer in orbit continued raining down green death upon the doomed bunker system, tediously slagging it floor by floor. Even for a Star Destroyer, this took the entire night to slag through thirty-five levels' worth, but it was done.

How fitting it was that the trapped military personnel therein died a similar death to those civilians in Isokepe a few hours ago, only the fires were caused by turbolasers instead of white phosphorus.

"You are in our Jedi Temple medical ward, and you're here to be healed of the mental assault the Sith Lord Ebolus gave you." Tsunade said as she began her therapy.

Tsunade would go through much the same routine as she had with Keith and Peter. Same questions. Same confusion. Same memory loss. Not an hour after she had entered the room to complete Walter's treatement, the same painful, yet necessary, revelation. The same fear, the same panic, tempered after a few minutes by the same realization that the Dark Lord had not been here, that it was only a memory.

For all the Wraiths had gone through much the same experienced, had much the same treatment requirements, had led similar lives before the war, the lives of by far the best 'MechWarriors the Evil Woody Thoughts military had to offer. Yes, the personalities, once exposed, did vary a bit among the three former Wraiths Tsunade had encountered before, but their treatment would progress in much the same manner.

However, for the Wraiths, the treatment was anything but routine. Restoration of ninety percent of the brain, after it died, was anything but routine. Restoration of sentience itself was anything but routine...

The former Wraiths did not yet remember, but all six, five on Jurai, and one fighting against his former Master on Earth, had known each other before the war...

As Keith approached the base, Whitfield sensed the great urgency within him. Almost no anger, which surprised Whitfield, but rather, a fervent desire to prevent future atrocities, and atone for the atrocities of the past.

Of course, there was also the prisoner of war to deal with. Whitfield boarded him on the supply transport, where he could be watched by the technicians, technicians who wielded blasters. Fortunately, the P.O.W. had no armaments of his own to confiscate, helping Whitfield to avoid another spectacle such as the one a few hours before.

When Keith arrived, he conversed briefly with Whitfield to get more details from the interrogation before transmitting a message to Admiral Basque:

ENCRYPTION 64L3SO80W
TO: ADMIRAL BASQUE
FROM: LIEUTENANT COLONEL ALLAIRE
SUBJECT: TACTICAL NOTICE

LAST NIGHT, UPON LANDING, WE CAPTURED A SMALL ENEMY OUTPOST. A
COMMUNICATIONS SERGEANT SENT A WARNING TO THE REST OF THE
ISLAND, TO BE FORWARDED TO WHITE DIAMOND, THAT WOODYEEN ISLAND
IS UNDER ATTACK. SUBJECT WAS INTERROGATED BY JEDI WHITFIELD
OVERNIGHT, AND INDICATES THAT DARTH EBOLUS WILL ORDER MILITARY
UNITS TO MOVE INTO CITIES IN AN ATTEMPT TO MAXIMIZE CIVILIAN
CASUALTIES. EXPECT CIVILIANS TO BE USED AS HUMAN SHIELDS, AND
PLAN ACCORDINGLY.

<<END TRANSMISSION>>
"Well, if hell and damnation isn't enough..." Admiral Basque said after reading the transmission. "Have an LAAT head to the forward base to pick up the prisoner."

"Yes, sir."

"And one more thing, make sure the Marines know to expect hostage situations. It may well be that civilans will get caught, so be careful."

"Aye."

After sending the warning, the Lieutenant Colonel convened the unit for the day's orders.

"In light of the information from the interrogation, it is necessary to move as quickly as possible. Whitfield and I will scout ahead, using the Shadow Cats, up to about thirty clicks ahead of the rest of the unit. Major Taylor, you are to command the heavy forces, and you will be answerable directly to me. We will all leave at the same time, i.e. as soon as all of you can grab an MRE and scarf it down. We head for Kiheli, the nearest city, about a hundred thirty kilometers northwest, and will likely be fighting for the city by midmorning. Whitfield and I will return to the main unit to brief you on the Order of Battle once we have scouted the city.

If we encounter substantial enemy forces on the way to Kiheli, we will retreat to the support of the main unit. However, in light of the information that the enemy will concentrate forces in the cities, expect anything from a completely undefended countryside up to heavily-armed convoys transporting chemical weapons.

Fifteen minutes for chow before we move out. Any questions?"
"If we happen to encounter hostage situations, what should we do?" Sergeant Ross asked.

Batangas Bay Military Installation

As the sun rose, its rays revealed only an island smoldering in black, not the military installation that had stood here the day before. The Star Destroyer in orbit continued raining down green death upon the doomed bunker system, tediously slagging it floor by floor. Even for a Star Destroyer, this took the entire night to slag through thirty-five levels' worth, but it was done.

How fitting it was that the trapped military personnel therein died a similar death to those civilians in Isokepe a few hours ago, only the fires were caused by turbolasers instead of white phosphorus.
Satisfied that all enemy personnel has been eliminated, the Star Destroyer awaited further orders as it remained on station.

Meanwhile, the fleet moved on to the mainland base, in order to prepare to take said base relatively intact and use it as a forward base for the rest of the 3 divisions (2 Infantry, 1 mechanized) tasked with assaulting from the north.


Tsunade would go through much the same routine as she had with Keith and Peter. Same questions. Same confusion. Same memory loss. Not an hour after she had entered the room to complete Walter's treatement, the same painful, yet necessary, revelation. The same fear, the same panic, tempered after a few minutes by the same realization that the Dark Lord had not been here, that it was only a memory.

For all the Wraiths had gone through much the same experienced, had much the same treatment requirements, had led similar lives before the war, the lives of by far the best 'MechWarriors the Evil Woody Thoughts military had to offer. Yes, the personalities, once exposed, did vary a bit among the three former Wraiths Tsunade had encountered before, but their treatment would progress in much the same manner.

However, for the Wraiths, the treatment was anything but routine. Restoration of ninety percent of the brain, after it died, was anything but routine. Restoration of sentience itself was anything but routine...

The former Wraiths did not yet remember, but all six, five on Jurai, and one fighting against his former Master on Earth, had known each other before the war...
Once she was finished, she asked. "How do you do?"

"If we happen to encounter hostage situations, what should we do?" Sergeant Ross asked.

"Let the politician or myself deal with them. Orders will be given on a case-by-case basis. The right way to deal with one situation will get a bunch of civilians killed in another. I should know, because my tactical training is nearly identical to the enemy's."

Satisfied that all enemy personnel has been eliminated, the Star Destroyer awaited further orders as it remained on station.

Meanwhile, the fleet moved on to the mainland base, in order to prepare to take said base relatively intact and use it as a forward base for the rest of the 3 divisions (2 Infantry, 1 mechanized) tasked with assaulting from the north.

The Coredians would find the East Isokepe Military Installation nearly completely abandoned, for most of the base's resources and troops had been redeployed overnight to the parts of the city, only about thirty-five miles west, that had survived the firestorm, with orders to keep at least some of the civilians alive, so they could try to trick the Coredians into killing them. Of course, even if the Coredians didn't fall for it, the civilians would die anyway...

Instead, the three divisions sent to storm the base could expect cluster mines and plenty of incendiary booby traps. Only a few token troops had been left, to provide signs of life on the enemy sensors, and to oversee the automated turret defenses, consisting mostly of heavy pulse laser turrets and long-range missile turrets.

Once she was finished, she asked. "How do you do?"

"Uh, better than I have in the last two months," Walter answered. Meanwhile, three others waited for the finishing touches on their treatment...

"Let the politician or myself deal with them. Orders will be given on a case-by-case basis. The right way to deal with one situation will get a bunch of civilians killed in another. I should know, because my tactical training is nearly identical to the enemy's."
"Yes, sir." Sergeant Ross nodded and as there were no more questions, the group broke for chow and then got into their mechs and prepared to move out.


The Coredians would find the East Isokepe Military Installation nearly completely abandoned, for most of the base's resources and troops had been redeployed overnight to the parts of the city, only about thirty-five miles west, that had survived the firestorm, with orders to keep at least some of the civilians alive, so they could try to trick the Coredians into killing them. Of course, even if the Coredians didn't fall for it, the civilians would die anyway...

Instead, the three divisions sent to storm the base could expect cluster mines and plenty of incendiary booby traps. Only a few token troops had been left, to provide signs of life on the enemy sensors, and to oversee the automated turret defenses, consisting mostly of heavy pulse laser turrets and long-range missile turrets.
Once again, the battleships and cruisers moved into position and began to bombard the base with their missiles and shells. This time, an air assault will also be conducted at the same time to ensure that enemy defenses are destroyed before moving in.

"Uh, better than I have in the last two months," Walter answered. Meanwhile, three others waited for the finishing touches on their treatment...
"Ah, very good, Walter." A tray of food came along for him. "Eat this food for now. I'm going to continue with the healing of those others." She nodded towards the other three.

Tblibsi, White Diamond Prime
24,390 nautical miles from Great Woody City

Somewhere, on White Diamond's Southern Hemisphere, in a small, isolated city of about eight hundred thousand, rumors started that Jedi Whitfield had not been responsible for the earthquake attack. No one knew where these rumors came from, but they probably originated from city elders who had remembered Whitfield's tenure as Prime Minister, and did not believe he could be responsible for such unspeakable evil.

However, such rumors would be quickly dealt with. Secret police mingled amongst the civilian populace in plainclothes, and ferreted out the rumor within a day of its origination.

Within thirty hours, one of the Dark Lord's messengers lay dead, his body smoldering somewhat from electric shock, after, of course, the Dark Lord had removed the datapad said messenger was carrying.

Nor did it take long for the Dark Lord to come up with a fitting solution to the problem. Tblibsi would get its very own, personalized earthquake, and no one else would have to know about it. Looking at a map of the area, he noted that the city was situated on an island in the middle of an ocean.

Nobody would have to know. Survivors of the earthquake would simply be left to rot, and die of dehydration.

He ordered a single modified tectonic missile fired from orbit at the small city; fifteen minutes later, the ground beneath the city liquefied and sank beneath the sea, sending its inhabitants screaming in a split second of sheer terror before the earth swallowed them all. No one would ever see the city, nor the souls that had inhabited it, again.

A few hours later, "mysterious" tsunamis washed up upon the shores of the nearest continents, carrying another hundred thousand or so off to the sea, never to be seen again.

After confirming the destruction through the Force, the Dark Lord ordered the purging of Tblibsi from all public records, all evidence of its existence wiped. It was to be the forgotten city of the war...

...But there were a few who would know about the atrocity, a few who were not supposed to know.

Young John Watsen slogged through another one of his propaganda classes, bullshitting his way through it, making up answers that wouldn't get him killed, when he sensed the terror of nearly a million voices, all at once, silenced, on this very planet. It took all the mental fortitude the five-year old could muster to hold back the tears that would indicate to his "instructors" that something was wrong with the kid, that he needed to be "dealt with." Sadly, hiding emotion was his new way of life, the way of life that had been thrust upon him.

Seven hundred light-years away, the burden that Jedi Whitfield had silently bore since his failure to prevent Darth Ebolus' coup d'etat flared up yet again, in the face of another massacre of citizens unable to do anything to prevent it...

"Yes, sir." Sergeant Ross nodded and as there were no more questions, the group broke for chow and then got into their mechs and prepared to move out.

As Whitfield sensed the destruction of some unknown city on White Diamond, he suddenly lost his appetite. He had eaten half the MRE, but could not bring himself to finish it, and instead pocketed the mini-ration bar within, to consume later in the day, after the return of his appetite.

He moved his belongings from the Timber Wolf IIIC he had been piloting to one of the Shadow Cats, sensing why he had been reassigned. As Whitfield and Allaire left at top speed, the rest of the unit would follow at theirs, but within a few minutes, the two were well ahead of the heavy units. About a half hour after the unit left, the two slowed down to a mere hundred kilometers per hour, so they wouldn't get too far ahead, Whitfield keeping his senses out for enemies, and giving Keith his very first lessons in doing the same.

As they passed to the south of the three great volcanoes that lined the peninsula's northeast coast, the two scouts ran across a sensor control tower within an hour, only about thirty kilometers away from Kiheli city limits. After dispatching a few light vehicles providing a token defense before they could radio for help, Keith ordered Whitfield to stay in his 'Mech as he went inside to capture the building.

Once again, Keith encountered a lone technical sergeant manning the tiny installation, and took him prisoner, without harming him in any way. Fortunately, this one was far calmer, and Keith would not need the services of the unit politician. The unit commander personally rewired the sensor system's IFF, and smiled as the positions of all units in the city were laid out before him.

Not much there. So far, they have been unable to send reinforcements from the west quickly enough. However, several units did exist that would have to be lured out of the city. Keith returned to his 'Mech after binding the prisoner, well away from the equipment, so that he could wait for the rest of the unit to arrive. While he would have liked to not take any prisoners at all, because they constituted a severe burden upon a unit seeking to liberate as much territory as possible, as quickly as possible, Keith knew that he must.

He waited for the rest of the unit to catch up, so the POW could be properly processed, and so that he could brief the others on this morning's Order of Battle.

No enemy forces came outside of the city. Keith would have to force them to do that.

Once again, the battleships and cruisers moved into position and began to bombard the base with their missiles and shells. This time, an air assault will also be conducted at the same time to ensure that enemy defenses are destroyed before moving in.

The pulse laser and missile turrets managed a few shots at the air support before their controlling towers succumbed to the onslaught. Meanwhile, the carpet bombardment detonated most of the mines, and many of the incendiary traps, blackening the ground upon which the installation stood. However, said bombardment failed to penetrate the immense bunker system beyond the upper couple of levels. If Coredian troops insisted upon inspecting these bunkers, they would still get a few nasty, automated surprises.

"Ah, very good, Walter." A tray of food came along for him. "Eat this food for now. I'm going to continue with the healing of those others." She nodded towards the other three.

Walter eagerly devoured the food set in front of him, as anyone who had been fed intravenously for about a week would. Meanwhile, Tsunade would have to explain to Kevin Dimitruk why he was not a prisoner of war, in much the same manner as she had spoken with Peter Sorensen. She would not only have to explain, but reveal that painful memory to the newly liberated lieutenant colonel, the memory that would explain it all...

As Whitfield sensed the destruction of some unknown city on White Diamond, he suddenly lost his appetite. He had eaten half the MRE, but could not bring himself to finish it, and instead pocketed the mini-ration bar within, to consume later in the day, after the return of his appetite.

He moved his belongings from the Timber Wolf IIIC he had been piloting to one of the Shadow Cats, sensing why he had been reassigned. As Whitfield and Allaire left at top speed, the rest of the unit would follow at theirs, but within a few minutes, the two were well ahead of the heavy units. About a half hour after the unit left, the two slowed down to a mere hundred kilometers per hour, so they wouldn't get too far ahead, Whitfield keeping his senses out for enemies, and giving Keith his very first lessons in doing the same.

As they passed to the south of the three great volcanoes that lined the peninsula's northeast coast, the two scouts ran across a sensor control tower within an hour, only about thirty kilometers away from Kiheli city limits. After dispatching a few light vehicles providing a token defense before they could radio for help, Keith ordered Whitfield to stay in his 'Mech as he went inside to capture the building.

Once again, Keith encountered a lone technical sergeant manning the tiny installation, and took him prisoner, without harming him in any way. Fortunately, this one was far calmer, and Keith would not need the services of the unit politician. The unit commander personally rewired the sensor system's IFF, and smiled as the positions of all units in the city were laid out before him.

Not much there. So far, they have been unable to send reinforcements from the west quickly enough. However, several units did exist that would have to be lured out of the city. Keith returned to his 'Mech after binding the prisoner, well away from the equipment, so that he could wait for the rest of the unit to arrive. While he would have liked to not take any prisoners at all, because they constituted a severe burden upon a unit seeking to liberate as much territory as possible, as quickly as possible, Keith knew that he must.

He waited for the rest of the unit to catch up, so the POW could be properly processed, and so that he could brief the others on this morning's Order of Battle.

No enemy forces came outside of the city. Keith would have to force them to do that.
The mechwarriors arrived soon after Keith caught the prisoner and then the Order of Battle briefing can begin.

The LAAT that left the Master Yosho soon arrived to pick up the first prisoner caught, and then was notified by Taylor of a second prisoner and flew extremely low, meters over treetops, to grab the second one.

The pulse laser and missile turrets managed a few shots at the air support before their controlling towers succumbed to the onslaught. Meanwhile, the carpet bombardment detonated most of the mines, and many of the incendiary traps, blackening the ground upon which the installation stood. However, said bombardment failed to penetrate the immense bunker system beyond the upper couple of levels. If Coredian troops insisted upon inspecting these bunkers, they would still get a few nasty, automated surprises.
A couple of fighters were downed by the antiair platforms but their pilots managed to bail near the base.

Swiftly learning from the mistakes of the first assault, the Marines invaded the land, but sent droids in first from the air. Simple and cheap to make, battle droids make good additions to the Coredian army and are often found on starships as security units. The droids spread out and searched for mines, and a company opened up the bunker and charged inside. That would save quite a few Marine lives, that's for sure.


Walter eagerly devoured the food set in front of him, as anyone who had been fed intravenously for about a week would. Meanwhile, Tsunade would have to explain to Kevin Dimitruk why he was not a prisoner of war, in much the same manner as she had spoken with Peter Sorensen. She would not only have to explain, but reveal that painful memory to the newly liberated lieutenant colonel, the memory that would explain it all...
"Well, my friend. My therapy will answer all your questions." Master Tsunade answered with a smiled and then began therapy on the man's mind once more. Three down, two to go.

The mechwarriors arrived soon after Keith caught the prisoner and then the Order of Battle briefing can begin.

The LAAT that left the Master Yosho soon arrived to pick up the first prisoner caught, and then was notified by Taylor of a second prisoner and flew extremely low, meters over treetops, to grab the second one.

Lieutenant Colonel Allaire convened the unit inside of the sensor control tower, where everyone would be able to view the sensor readouts for themselves, except for Jedi Whitfield, who stood guard outside the sensor control tower and already had an idea of what the commander had in mind. "You can see that we have reached the outskirts of Kiheli before the enemy has had a chance to reinforce it," the young Lieutenant Colonel began. "Nevertheless, the enemies will have received their orders to maximize civilian casualties by now. Therefore the enemy must be drawn away from the city, and the politician and I will handle that. Everyone else will be divided into two lances, one of four, containing all IIICs, and one of three, containing two IIICs and one IVC. Major Masaki shall command the heavier lance, and Sergeant Ross the lighter one.

The Major's lance is to take up a position twelve kilometers northeast of here. The Sergeant's lance is to take up a position on the southern base of the volcano nearest to Kiheli city limits, or about fifteen kilometers north-northeast of here, and power down to avoid detection. Sergeant Ross, make sure you have visual contact with the Major's lance, shouldn't be too difficult from a few hundred feet up the volcano.

Whitfield and I will bait the enemy to a point about equidistant between the two positions. When the Major's lance opens fire, the Sergeant's lance is to power up and open fire as well, from long range, maintaining the high ground. Sergeant, don't worry about being detected while powered down; none of the defenses in the city have sensors capable of this, and the politician and I will have the enemy too busy to notice you visually.

Any questions?"

Swiftly learning from the mistakes of the first assault, the Marines invaded the land, but sent droids in first from the air. Simple and cheap to make, battle droids make good additions to the Coredian army and are often found on starships as security units. The droids spread out and searched for mines, and a company opened up the bunker and charged inside. That would save quite a few Marine lives, that's for sure.

No one really noticed that the Coredians had sent droids instead of live men, because the base was already abandoned and dead, save the traps that had been set earlier. Nevertheless, as the droids spread out, a few thousand cluster mines and a few other incendiary presents made themselves known. While the incendiaries would do far more damage to live humans, they were still fully capable of heavily damaging droids.

Unless of course, they carried relatively high-grade armor, but then the droids wouldn't be such good cannon fodder, because they would be...too expensive.

Meanwhile, the droids entering the bunker encountered even more fun. The entire bunker had been turned into one massive booby trap before the base's abandonment; most of the levels had been rigged with high explosives detonated by motion sensors. Said explosives turned the top levels of the bunker into one massive fireball when the droids entered, ejecting debris and shrapnel all over the scarred remnants of the base.

"Well, my friend. My therapy will answer all your questions." Master Tsunade answered with a smiled and then began therapy on the man's mind once more. Three down, two to go.

Kevin Dimitruk simply relaxed in his hospital bed, letting the aura of peace of this place wash over him, and letting Tsunade treat the others. Such satisfaction, he had never known, at least not from what he could remember.

Which wasn't much--like the others, Kevin could not remember much of anything before he joined the military upon reaching the age of majority. Nevertheless, the presence of the other two Wraiths seemed vaguely and oddly familiar...

"Major Mrozik? That you?" Kevin asked the former Wraith, lying in a bed across the room, that Tsunade moved to treat next.

Chris managed a weak "Colonel Dimitruk?" in reply, but struggled to gather more words in his mind. After a long pause, he managed, "Where the hell are we?"

"Someplace called the Jedi Temple. Wherever it is, it ain't hell."

Chris Mrozik let that thought settle in as Tsunade began treating him.

Lieutenant Colonel Allaire convened the unit inside of the sensor control tower, where everyone would be able to view the sensor readouts for themselves, except for Jedi Whitfield, who stood guard outside the sensor control tower and already had an idea of what the commander had in mind. "You can see that we have reached the outskirts of Kiheli before the enemy has had a chance to reinforce it," the young Lieutenant Colonel began. "Nevertheless, the enemies will have received their orders to maximize civilian casualties by now. Therefore the enemy must be drawn away from the city, and the politician and I will handle that. Everyone else will be divided into two lances, one of four, containing all IIICs, and one of three, containing two IIICs and one IVC. Major Masaki shall command the heavier lance, and Sergeant Ross the lighter one.

The Major's lance is to take up a position twelve kilometers northeast of here. The Sergeant's lance is to take up a position on the southern base of the volcano nearest to Kiheli city limits, or about fifteen kilometers north-northeast of here, and power down to avoid detection. Sergeant Ross, make sure you have visual contact with the Major's lance, shouldn't be too difficult from a few hundred feet up the volcano.

Whitfield and I will bait the enemy to a point about equidistant between the two positions. When the Major's lance opens fire, the Sergeant's lance is to power up and open fire as well, from long range, maintaining the high ground. Sergeant, don't worry about being detected while powered down; none of the defenses in the city have sensors capable of this, and the politician and I will have the enemy too busy to notice you visually.

Any questions?"
The instructions were clear enough, so there were none this time, and the group broke camp. But just before they got to their mechs, the LAAT, having finally found the group via Taylor's transponder, began hovering low over the ground. and the pilot spoke on secure channels. "Hey! Where the hell are the prisoners?"


No one really noticed that the Coredians had sent droids instead of live men, because the base was already abandoned and dead, save the traps that had been set earlier. Nevertheless, as the droids spread out, a few thousand cluster mines and a few other incendiary presents made themselves known. While the incendiaries would do far more damage to live humans, they were still fully capable of heavily damaging droids.

Unless of course, they carried relatively high-grade armor, but then the droids wouldn't be such good cannon fodder, because they would be...too expensive.

Meanwhile, the droids entering the bunker encountered even more fun. The entire bunker had been turned into one massive booby trap before the base's abandonment; most of the levels had been rigged with high explosives detonated by motion sensors. Said explosives turned the top levels of the bunker into one massive fireball when the droids entered, ejecting debris and shrapnel all over the scarred remnants of the base.
Marine 1st Lt. Gelan Dukes whistled sharply as explosions occurred over the base. "Glad we sent the droids in first. Alright, folks, let's move in!" He ordered to his unit as troops headed down to finish off taking the base and use the remaining good sections (with the remaining droids to take out mines) to set up the forward base for the Corps' divisions to launch offensives from. Timberwolf scouts moved out to scope out the areas near the base while everything was being set up and aircraft flew inland on sorties to recon enemy movements and such.

By the time afternoon rolled around, the base was heavy with activity as more troops and vehicles moved in from the sea and sky. And soon...the offensives will begin.

Kevin Dimitruk simply relaxed in his hospital bed, letting the aura of peace of this place wash over him, and letting Tsunade treat the others. Such satisfaction, he had never known, at least not from what he could remember.

Which wasn't much--like the others, Kevin could not remember much of anything before he joined the military upon reaching the age of majority. Nevertheless, the presence of the other two Wraiths seemed vaguely and oddly familiar...

"Major Mrozik? That you?" Kevin asked the former Wraith, lying in a bed across the room, that Tsunade moved to treat next.

Chris managed a weak "Colonel Dimitruk?" in reply, but struggled to gather more words in his mind. After a long pause, he managed, "Where the hell are we?"

"Someplace called the Jedi Temple. Wherever it is, it ain't hell."

Chris Mrozik let that thought settle in as Tsunade began treating him.
Tsunade worked on Chris, unleashing the power of healing on him. And then, there was one.

The instructions were clear enough, so there were none this time, and the group broke camp. But just before they got to their mechs, the LAAT, having finally found the group via Taylor's transponder, began hovering low over the ground. and the pilot spoke on secure channels. "Hey! Where the hell are the prisoners?"

As Allaire and Whitfield rushed to set their trap, the voice of some hapless pilot pissed at having to spend an hour or so tracking down the unit cackled over Allaire's intercom. "In our salvage transport," Keith answered nonchalantly. "About thirty clicks or so southeast of Kiheli. At the moment." The two then resumed their regularly scheduled raiding.

When the two reached the city outskirts, they found a few vehicles and a few 'Mechs congregated in the city center. Both Keith and the politician double-checked to make sure their ECM systems were online, so they could remove the vehicles, which most likely would not pursue, undetected, then bait the 'Mechs. The two made sure to constantly move behind buildings when their weapons recharged, to avoid visual detection, as they sniped at the vehicles at maximum range, firing down a narrow street.

When a few enemy infantry started preparing some kind of solution, both of the scouts quickly made themselves known, cutting down the infantry quickly with pulse lasers, then disappearing behind buildings. Both Keith and the Jedi shut down their ECM; now they wanted the enemy to follow them.

The two took a direct route out of the city, down a wide avenue, where the Jedi and the comparitively untrained Force-sensitive had room to manuever to avoid enemy fire. When their enemies lost track of them (because of their slower speed), the two scouts returned just close enough to reiterate their presence and fire off a couple of long-range presents, then turned right back around when the six Atlases (http://www.ci-n.com/~jcampbel/rpgs/battletech/FASA/3025/AS7-D-Atlas-stats.html) started pursuing them again.

Fortunately, the only long-range weaponry the enemies had consisted of missiles, which the two scout pilots easily evaded by manuevering such that attaining lock was nearly impossible. Meanwhile, the two managed to fell one of the enemy through long-range, taunting potshots, for the scouts were more than twice as fast as their quarries, after all, and had to regain their attention from time to time, when the slow assault 'Mechs gave up their pursuit. Temporarily, anyways.

The two Shadow Cats streaked across the ambush zone, where they turned around yet again, the Jedi and the former Wraith firing two more bolts of blue energy straight into the enemy's cockpits.

This was where they made their stand.

AC20s are extremely heavy autocannons with extremely short range. The shells weigh about four hundred pounds. SRM=short range missile.

Marine 1st Lt. Gelan Dukes whistled sharply as explosions occurred over the base. "Glad we sent the droids in first. Alright, folks, let's move in!" He ordered to his unit as troops headed down to finish off taking the base and use the remaining good sections (with the remaining droids to take out mines) to set up the forward base for the Corps' divisions to launch offensives from. Timberwolf scouts moved out to scope out the areas near the base while everything was being set up and aircraft flew inland on sorties to recon enemy movements and such.

By the time afternoon rolled around, the base was heavy with activity as more troops and vehicles moved in from the sea and sky. And soon...the offensives will begin.

The few personnel hiding on the bunker's lowermost level detonated their explosives as the droids entered, completely removing live personnel loyal to the Dark Lord on the base. However, the Coredians would find little of use here, as most everything had either burnt or blown up.

Tsunade worked on Chris, unleashing the power of healing on him. And then, there was one.

As Chris Mrozik's mind healed, save the glaring gap in memory before he had joined the military, Chris and Kevin started comparing what they could remember, and what they should remember, but couldn't. Meanwhile, the last Wraith, Raul Vigil, managed a weak smile as Tsunade began to treat him.

As Allaire and Whitfield rushed to set their trap, the voice of some hapless pilot pissed at having to spend an hour or so tracking down the unit cackled over Allaire's intercom. "In our salvage transport," Keith answered nonchalantly. "About thirty clicks or so southeast of Kiheli. At the moment." The two then resumed their regularly scheduled raiding.

When the two reached the city outskirts, they found a few vehicles and a few 'Mechs congregated in the city center. Both Keith and the politician double-checked to make sure their ECM systems were online, so they could remove the vehicles, which most likely would not pursue, undetected, then bait the 'Mechs. The two made sure to constantly move behind buildings when their weapons recharged, to avoid visual detection, as they sniped at the vehicles at maximum range, firing down a narrow street.

When a few enemy infantry started preparing some kind of solution, both of the scouts quickly made themselves known, cutting down the infantry quickly with pulse lasers, then disappearing behind buildings. Both Keith and the Jedi shut down their ECM; now they wanted the enemy to follow them.

The two took a direct route out of the city, down a wide avenue, where the Jedi and the comparitively untrained Force-sensitive had room to manuever to avoid enemy fire. When their enemies lost track of them (because of their slower speed), the two scouts returned just close enough to reiterate their presence and fire off a couple of long-range presents, then turned right back around when the six Atlases (http://www.ci-n.com/~jcampbel/rpgs/battletech/FASA/3025/AS7-D-Atlas-stats.html) started pursuing them again.

Fortunately, the only long-range weaponry the enemies had consisted of missiles, which the two scout pilots easily evaded by manuevering such that attaining lock was nearly impossible. Meanwhile, the two managed to fell one of the enemy through long-range, taunting potshots, for the scouts were more than twice as fast as their quarries, after all, and had to regain their attention from time to time, when the slow assault 'Mechs gave up their pursuit. Temporarily, anyways.

The two Shadow Cats streaked across the ambush zone, where they turned around yet again, the Jedi and the former Wraith firing two more bolts of blue energy straight into the enemy's cockpits.

This was where they made their stand.

AC20s are extremely heavy autocannons with extremely short range. The shells weigh about four hundred pounds. SRM=short range missile.
Taylor and Ross' lances shortly moved into position after Whitfield and Keith zoomed away. They awaited the enemies as the two Force-sensitive mechwarriors were chased to the ambush zone.

Wait for it...wait for it... Taylor thought as the enemy mechs began running through the ambush zone. Now!

He launched a volley of superheated globs of plasma, while his lance shot PPCs, missiles or lasers. Upon seeing the Major's lance take action, Sergeant Ross powered up and launched long-range missiles as well as PPCs, as her own lance lashed out with their weapons as well.

The few personnel hiding on the bunker's lowermost level detonated their explosives as the droids entered, completely removing live personnel loyal to the Dark Lord on the base. However, the Coredians would find little of use here, as most everything had either burnt or blown up.
The Corps bulldozed away the broken parts of the base and in its place, a prefabricated base camp was set up rather quickly. It was nearly time to advance.

Air and ground scouts headed further inland to scope out the enemy especially around the nearest city.

As Chris Mrozik's mind healed, save the glaring gap in memory before he had joined the military, Chris and Kevin started comparing what they could remember, and what they should remember, but couldn't. Meanwhile, the last Wraith, Raul Vigil, managed a weak smile as Tsunade began to treat him.
Tsunade smiled to Raul as she began healing him as well. And soon enough, all of the Wraiths were finally freed except for gaps in their memories.

Taylor and Ross' lances shortly moved into position after Whitfield and Keith zoomed away. They awaited the enemies as the two Force-sensitive mechwarriors were chased to the ambush zone.

Wait for it...wait for it... Taylor thought as the enemy mechs began running through the ambush zone. Now!

He launched a volley of superheated globs of plasma, while his lance shot PPCs, missiles or lasers. Upon seeing the Major's lance take action, Sergeant Ross powered up and launched long-range missiles as well as PPCs, as her own lance lashed out with their weapons as well.

As Taylor's lance appeared on the enemy's scopes, the five Atlases launched their long-range missiles at said lance, redirecting their fire because the scouts had proven too difficult to hit. The enemy lumbered forward, trying to close to point-blank range for their heavy weapons, which might or might not have been a laughable proposition, depending on what Taylor's lance did.

Keith dropped Taylor a hint. "Don't let them close to within three hundred meters!" By now, he had figured out that he was dealing with the variants optimized for short-range combat; otherwise, the enemy would have fired Gauss Rifle slugs at the two scouts as they lured the enemy out of the city.

Keith and Whitfield launched blue bolts of energy some hundred meters long at one of the enemy Atlases, softening it up for Taylor, who fired about a half-second later. Its pilot instantaneously perished when Taylor's shots hit. The other three in Taylor's lance peeled off chunks of armor from another Atlas, melting all of its arm-mounted weapons and heavily damaging its torso. It survived long enough to fire a second round of missiles, before succumbing to someone's pulse lasers.

Meanwhile, Sergeant Ross' lance had clear shots, from high ground, at the enemy's significantly thinner rear armor. They turned one of the assault 'Mechs into nothing more than a big fireball, and peeled off chunks of another's rear armor section. Keith and Whitfield quickly moved to finish it off with a few pulse laser shots, also from the rear.

Keith couldn't help but snicker. In about seven seconds, his planning had made the enemy face nine-to-one odds.

The Corps bulldozed away the broken parts of the base and in its place, a prefabricated base camp was set up rather quickly. It was nearly time to advance.

Air and ground scouts headed further inland to scope out the enemy especially around the nearest city.

Improvised pulse laser turrets set up overnight fired at the Coredian air units as they flew over the city. The ground scouts were left alone until they encountered a lance of 70-ton Summoners (http://www.sarna.net/btech/BIA/Designs/Mechs/Official/html/Summoner-A.shtml), who wasted no time in firing on the ground scouts.

Meanwhile, infantry prepared more incendiary fun for Coredians and civilians alike, keeping the preparation inside commandeered buildings for the time being, to try to conceal most of the activity from the scouts.

Tsunade smiled to Raul as she began healing him as well. And soon enough, all of the Wraiths were finally freed except for gaps in their memories.

As Tsunade finished her therapy, Peter Sorensen and Walter Ryle walked in the room. "Colonels Dimitruk and Vigil? Major Mrozik?" they asked in an uncertain tone of voice.

"Uh, yeah, that's us," Raul answered. "Sorensen and Ryle, it's good to see you again."

The old rivalries between them were nearly forgotten, though Peter did tease Walter a bit for his smaller size. Soon, the conversation turned to figuring out what to do next, for none of them really had more than a fuzzy idea of what was going on, other than that they were free of the Dark Lord. They remained ignorant of events on Earth since they had been taken here...

As Taylor's lance appeared on the enemy's scopes, the five Atlases launched their long-range missiles at said lance, redirecting their fire because the scouts had proven too difficult to hit. The enemy lumbered forward, trying to close to point-blank range for their heavy weapons, which might or might not have been a laughable proposition, depending on what Taylor's lance did.
Taylor and his lance dodged and used countermeasures as much as they could, and those that passed through were taken out by subjective use of Taylor's fire powers to explode the warheads. Even so, one of the mechs was damaged on the side.

Keith dropped Taylor a hint. "Don't let them close to within three hundred meters!" By now, he had figured out that he was dealing with the variants optimized for short-range combat; otherwise, the enemy would have fired Gauss Rifle slugs at the two scouts as they lured the enemy out of the city.

Keith and Whitfield launched blue bolts of energy some hundred meters long at one of the enemy Atlases, softening it up for Taylor, who fired about a half-second later. Its pilot instantaneously perished when Taylor's shots hit. The other three in Taylor's lance peeled off chunks of armor from another Atlas, melting all of its arm-mounted weapons and heavily damaging its torso. It survived long enough to fire a second round of missiles, before succumbing to someone's pulse lasers.
The mechwarriors fought off the missiles, but in return, they recieved light damage as it would take more than that to destroy them.

Meanwhile, Sergeant Ross' lance had clear shots, from high ground, at the enemy's significantly thinner rear armor. They turned one of the assault 'Mechs into nothing more than a big fireball, and peeled off chunks of another's rear armor section. Keith and Whitfield quickly moved to finish it off with a few pulse laser shots, also from the rear.

Keith couldn't help but snicker. In about seven seconds, his planning had made the enemy face nine-to-one odds.
The last Atlas was pummeled by PPCs and lasers from Taylor and Ross respectively and then they hoped there were none.

Improvised pulse laser turrets set up overnight fired at the Coredian air units as they flew over the city. The ground scouts were left alone until they encountered a lance of 70-ton Summoners (http://www.sarna.net/btech/BIA/Designs/Mechs/Official/html/Summoner-A.shtml), who wasted no time in firing on the ground scouts.
Aircraft dodged the pulse lasers and sent missiles after them though two succumbed to the assault, while the ground scouts reported on the locations of the Summoners before they vanished from scopes or fled. But soon, there would be powerful backups arriving as repulsarlift tanks, manned Sabrecat and unmanned Cougar mechs and AT-TE walkers began to advance on the city.

Meanwhile, infantry prepared more incendiary fun for Coredians and civilians alike, keeping the preparation inside commandeered buildings for the time being, to try to conceal most of the activity from the scouts.
Some, though not all of the activity were reported to command from the air scouts, though they didn't know exactly what is happening. Nevertheless, they knew to recommend caution and droids when the assault on the city begins.

The infantry divisons moved out of the base in APCs and repulsercraft, leaving a small detachment for defense and flanked the mechanized units while the assault began.

As Tsunade finished her therapy, Peter Sorensen and Walter Ryle walked in the room. "Colonels Dimitruk and Vigil? Major Mrozik?" they asked in an uncertain tone of voice.

"Uh, yeah, that's us," Raul answered. "Sorensen and Ryle, it's good to see you again."

The old rivalries between them were nearly forgotten, though Peter did tease Walter a bit for his smaller size. Soon, the conversation turned to figuring out what to do next, for none of them really had more than a fuzzy idea of what was going on, other than that they were free of the Dark Lord. They remained ignorant of events on Earth since they had been taken here...
"Ah, finally, you all are freed and appear to know each other." Tsunade smiled as food was brought in for the last former Wraith. She motioned a chair over to sit down. "Now, as you all have been told, you are in the Jedi Temple's medical ward on Jurai, a planet thousands of light-years from Earth. We, the Jedi Knights are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, foes to the Sith Lord. The one who freed you, Knight Whitfield, is one of us, and is now fighting to free Woodyeen Island from the Dark Lord's grasp. Because you all have been subjected to the powers of the Dark Side, I offer you all a home here in the Temple, and most importantly, training to resist it's evil. Don't answer just yet about your decision. Talk amongs yourself and see what you feel about training. Are there any questions?"

Taylor and his lance dodged and used countermeasures as much as they could, and those that passed through were taken out by subjective use of Taylor's fire powers to explode the warheads. Even so, one of the mechs was damaged on the side.

The mechwarriors fought off the missiles, but in return, they recieved light damage as it would take more than that to destroy them.

The last Atlas was pummeled by PPCs and lasers from Taylor and Ross respectively and then they hoped there were none.

Keith and Whitfield fired on the last Atlas as they ran circles around it, just tauntingly out of the range of its heavy autocannon. Meanwhile, the rest of the unit made quick work out of the heavily outnumbered enemy, slagging its armor in a matter of seconds with particle projector cannons and numerous pulse lasers.

After the last enemy became nothing more than a seventy-meter-wide fireball, Lieutenant Colonel Allaire gave orders for the unit to move into the city immediately, ignoring the fallen 'Mech chassis because he considered them outdated crap, not worth the delay to salvage. The two scouts went ahead of the others, to make sure there weren't any surprises; they found none, other than a civilian hyperpulse generator and a weapons depot with late-generation PPCs to capture. The latter might prove useful in the future, and Keith ordered the salvage transport to move up and capture the PPCs as soon as he was absolutely sure the area was absolutely secure.

Near the spot where the enemy defenses had once congregated, the two scouts found another sensor control tower, one that provided Keith with more data from which to plan his next mission...

Aircraft dodged the pulse lasers and sent missiles after them though two succumbed to the assault, while the ground scouts reported on the locations of the Summoners before they vanished from scopes or fled. But soon, there would be powerful backups arriving as repulsarlift tanks, manned Sabrecat and unmanned Cougar mechs and AT-TE walkers began to advance on the city.

Some, though not all of the activity were reported to command from the air scouts, though they didn't know exactly what is happening. Nevertheless, they knew to recommend caution and droids when the assault on the city begins.

The infantry divisons moved out of the base in APCs and repulsercraft, leaving a small detachment for defense and flanked the mechanized units while the assault began.

The airstrikes took out most, but not all, of the turrets, reducing the grid to about thirty percent efficiency.

The four Summoners fired their Gauss Rifles on the enemy mecha at long range, down long alleyways, before ducking behind buildings. Slugs weighing as much as a heavily-built man raced towards enemy Sabrecats, as they were the largest and presumably most heavily armed enemy, at hypersonic speed as the Summoners' gyros compensated for the massive recoil of the weapons.

Unfortunately for the Summoners, the Gauss Rifles are fairly slow to reload; however, they generate very little heat, so they also fired pulse lasers to harass the enemy while their Gauss Rifles reloaded.

Infantry scattered about the city finished wiring their little surprises, but waited to detonate them, hoping to get footage of Coredians missing the defenders and hitting civilian buildings first, or better yet, of the Coredians actually tricked into firing on civilians themselves. Regardless of what the Coredians did, the presents would reveal themselves in time.

"Ah, finally, you all are freed and appear to know each other." Tsunade smiled as food was brought in for the last former Wraith. She motioned a chair over to sit down. "Now, as you all have been told, you are in the Jedi Temple's medical ward on Jurai, a planet thousands of light-years from Earth. We, the Jedi Knights are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, foes to the Sith Lord. The one who freed you, Knight Whitfield, is one of us, and is now fighting to free Woodyeen Island from the Dark Lord's grasp. Because you all have been subjected to the powers of the Dark Side, I offer you all a home here in the Temple, and most importantly, training to resist it's evil. Don't answer just yet about your decision. Talk amongs yourself and see what you feel about training. Are there any questions?"

The five met together, and quickly agreed that at minimum, they must learn how to defend themselves against future mindrapes. Everything else seemed to be a point of contention.

Walter Ryle and Chris Mrozik were disinclined to trust anybody at this point, for their own military commander had enslaved them. If they could not trust their own military, who else to trust? Meanwhile, Peter Sorensen and Kevin Dimitruk argued that this Jedi Order had poured resources into fighting their former Master, and therefore should be trusted as an ally. Raul Vigil weighed the arguments in his head; if this was to be decided democratically, he effectively held the tiebreaking vote.

Finally, Raul's deep voice filled the room. "We have agreed that we must learn how to defend ourselves against mind attacks. Let us start there, and research the history of this Jedi Order. The matter of whether or not to join does not have to be decided today. We simply tell Tsunade that we lack enough information to make such a decision."

The other four former Wraiths shut up, nodding their assent. Raul informed Tsunade that the group wished to conduct research on the Jedi Order before coming to a decision on training, for at this point, they really only had a vague idea of what it was.

"My Lord, orbital imagery has confirmed the destruction of the city that shall not be named." A young lieutenant handed Darth Ebolus a small datapad, from which he could access the images.

"Yes, I know," Ebolus said nonchalantly, as if being told the sun was risen. "That was fun. It should be done again."

"On the same city?" the lieutenant asked, somewhat surprised at this latest statement.

"No, on a different one. What other cities are problematic?"

"Last I checked, this entire system, with the exception of the city that shall not be named, is pacified."

"Meh. I guess I'll just have to get out the globe of White Diamond and pick a city at random, then. You are dismissed for now."

The Dark Lord left the lieutenant standing there, as he pondered which city should whet his appetite for destruction next.

Keith and Whitfield fired on the last Atlas as they ran circles around it, just tauntingly out of the range of its heavy autocannon. Meanwhile, the rest of the unit made quick work out of the heavily outnumbered enemy, slagging its armor in a matter of seconds with particle projector cannons and numerous pulse lasers.

After the last enemy became nothing more than a seventy-meter-wide fireball, Lieutenant Colonel Allaire gave orders for the unit to move into the city immediately, ignoring the fallen 'Mech chassis because he considered them outdated crap, not worth the delay to salvage. The two scouts went ahead of the others, to make sure there weren't any surprises; they found none, other than a civilian hyperpulse generator and a weapons depot with late-generation PPCs to capture. The latter might prove useful in the future, and Keith ordered the salvage transport to move up and capture the PPCs as soon as he was absolutely sure the area was absolutely secure.

Near the spot where the enemy defenses had once congregated, the two scouts found another sensor control tower, one that provided Keith with more data from which to plan his next mission...
And the other mechs began moving into the city, constantly vigiliant of enemy forces, but it was cleared so far. They soon arrived at the control tower.


The airstrikes took out most, but not all, of the turrets, reducing the grid to about thirty percent efficiency.
The air units continued to strike at remaining targets, though losses were taken at the same time.

The four Summoners fired their Gauss Rifles on the enemy mecha at long range, down long alleyways, before ducking behind buildings. Slugs weighing as much as a heavily-built man raced towards enemy Sabrecats, as they were the largest and presumably most heavily armed enemy, at hypersonic speed as the Summoners' gyros compensated for the massive recoil of the weapons.

Unfortunately for the Summoners, the Gauss Rifles are fairly slow to reload; however, they generate very little heat, so they also fired pulse lasers to harass the enemy while their Gauss Rifles reloaded.
The Sabrecats were large and less agile than the cougars, but they also swiftly moved out of the way of gauss fire, although a couple got smacked on the shields and rolled away, snarling. Shields flared as the pulse lasers smacked into them, but the heat sinks worked well for this battle.

The 'cats began splitting up to flank the summoners, and also to present more targets per enemy. They carefully tracked their targets through the buildings and fired only when they were sure they won't hit civilians. At the same time, they got ever closer...

Infantry scattered about the city finished wiring their little surprises, but waited to detonate them, hoping to get footage of Coredians missing the defenders and hitting civilian buildings first, or better yet, of the Coredians actually tricked into firing on civilians themselves. Regardless of what the Coredians did, the presents would reveal themselves in time.
The APCs, wolves, cougars and droid transports began to roll into the city and cautiously sweep sensors through the area to try not to get surprised. Those carrying weapons were dealt with swiftly, but care was taken to not harm civilians.

The five met together, and quickly agreed that at minimum, they must learn how to defend themselves against future mindrapes. Everything else seemed to be a point of contention.

Walter Ryle and Chris Mrozik were disinclined to trust anybody at this point, for their own military commander had enslaved them. If they could not trust their own military, who else to trust? Meanwhile, Peter Sorensen and Kevin Dimitruk argued that this Jedi Order had poured resources into fighting their former Master, and therefore should be trusted as an ally. Raul Vigil weighed the arguments in his head; if this was to be decided democratically, he effectively held the tiebreaking vote.

Finally, Raul's deep voice filled the room. "We have agreed that we must learn how to defend ourselves against mind attacks. Let us start there, and research the history of this Jedi Order. The matter of whether or not to join does not have to be decided today. We simply tell Tsunade that we lack enough information to make such a decision."

The other four former Wraiths shut up, nodding their assent. Raul informed Tsunade that the group wished to conduct research on the Jedi Order before coming to a decision on training, for at this point, they really only had a vague idea of what it was.
"Very well. My apprentices shall give you some clothes." Tsunade said as Sakura and Shizune both entered and began handing out clothes to the men. "and leave you with some privacy. When you come out, I can take you to the Archives and you can read for yourself the history of the Order."

And the other mechs began moving into the city, constantly vigiliant of enemy forces, but it was cleared so far. They soon arrived at the control tower.

After Keith was one hundred percent sure the city was cleared of resistance, he ordered the unit to wait five kilometers outside of Kiheli's western border while he scouted the next city with Whitfield, only about fifteen kilometers away.

They found little, only a few vehicles and a couple of light 'Mechs, easy fodder for the two Force-sensitives, even though they only had heavy scouts. While the sensor network had told Keith how many enemy contacts were in the city, said sensors failed to distinguish between different classes of mecha, and the two scouts were able to clear the city by themselves. Apparently, the enemy had sought to reinforce Kiheli from pulling garrisons from this city, for within a couple of hours, it was secure, as the techies left at the sensor control tower could verify.

However, as noon came and went, both Keith and Whitfield got a nagging feeling that the third city would be much, much more difficult to liberate without civilian casualties. Whitfield suddenly found himself dealing with even worse intuitions--premonitions of another firestorm somewhere that he could do little, if anything, about. The two scouts returned moderately damaged to Kiheli, repaired their mecha in a 'Mech repair bay on the very western outskirts of the first liberated city, then reported their progress.

Keith ordered the unit to make for the second city, wanting the unit to be there within twenty minutes, highly possible if everyone moved at full throttle. For all knew that the longer they tarried, the more civilians would die under the Dark Lord's orders...

The air units continued to strike at remaining targets, though losses were taken at the same time.

The Sabrecats were large and less agile than the cougars, but they also swiftly moved out of the way of gauss fire, although a couple got smacked on the shields and rolled away, snarling. Shields flared as the pulse lasers smacked into them, but the heat sinks worked well for this battle.

The 'cats began splitting up to flank the summoners, and also to present more targets per enemy. They carefully tracked their targets through the buildings and fired only when they were sure they won't hit civilians. At the same time, they got ever closer...

The APCs, wolves, cougars and droid transports began to roll into the city and cautiously sweep sensors through the area to try not to get surprised. Those carrying weapons were dealt with swiftly, but care was taken to not harm civilians.

The good news was that the enemy had been lured into the city.

The bad news: footage of the enemy firing on civilians, for use as propaganda, would not be filmed this day.

Solution: Incendiary presents, so that the Dark Lord's will would be done.

The four Summoners ignored the enemy's splitting up, concentrating their ire upon one enemy at a time, and firing alpha-strikes at anything that came within short range. However, they seemed hesitant to fire in urban environments, probably out of a fear of missing and hitting civilian targets.

Nevertheless, shades of yellow flashed on their damage displays, mostly on legs and torso sections, from the few shots that the enemy did feel confident enough to fire. One was far more heavily damaged, however.

The four 'Mechs were careful to keep their backs nearly touching buildings, so that their weaker rear armor would not be exposed in the enemy flanking attempts.

Meanwhile, as more enemies crawled throughout the city, the vastly outnumbered infantry officially started Project Welcoming Committee, as throughout the city, everywhere except the area actually defended by something that could actually damage the enemy, where the four 'Mechs stood and held their ground, doomed, brainwashed infantry ignited their white phosphorus charges.

The Burning of Isokepe would soon be complete.

A Ring of Fire broke out around the city, around the already-destroyed downtown, broken only by the postion of the lance of Summoners. The Summoner pilots simply activated active life support as the fire rose a kilometer to their right, a kilometer to their left, for their 'Mechs were designed to operate in inhospitable atmospheres, or vacuum environments, such as on planetary moons, as well as terran ones. Once again, the air inside the city fed the flames, and nothing else.

Another million civilians died. All of the "re-educated" infantry died.

Only the buildings within a kilometer of the four Summoners survived; yet their inhabitants still had the air sucked out of their lungs.

"Very well. My apprentices shall give you some clothes." Tsunade said as Sakura and Shizune both entered and began handing out clothes to the men. "and leave you with some privacy. When you come out, I can take you to the Archives and you can read for yourself the history of the Order."

The former Wraiths thanked Tsunade for the clothing, got dressed, and let Tsunade take them to the Archives, where they would likely spend the next several days...

After Keith was one hundred percent sure the city was cleared of resistance, he ordered the unit to wait five kilometers outside of Kiheli's western border while he scouted the next city with Whitfield, only about fifteen kilometers away.

They found little, only a few vehicles and a couple of light 'Mechs, easy fodder for the two Force-sensitives, even though they only had heavy scouts. While the sensor network had told Keith how many enemy contacts were in the city, said sensors failed to distinguish between different classes of mecha, and the two scouts were able to clear the city by themselves. Apparently, the enemy had sought to reinforce Kiheli from pulling garrisons from this city, for within a couple of hours, it was secure, as the techies left at the sensor control tower could verify.

However, as noon came and went, both Keith and Whitfield got a nagging feeling that the third city would be much, much more difficult to liberate without civilian casualties. Whitfield suddenly found himself dealing with even worse intuitions--premonitions of another firestorm somewhere that he could do little, if anything, about. The two scouts returned moderately damaged to Kiheli, repaired their mecha in a 'Mech repair bay on the very western outskirts of the first liberated city, then reported their progress.

Keith ordered the unit to make for the second city, wanting the unit to be there within twenty minutes, highly possible if everyone moved at full throttle. For all knew that the longer they tarried, the more civilians would die under the Dark Lord's orders...
The mechs soon made for the second city under Keith's orders when a second flash of fire made Taylor stiffen. He sighed and shook his head. Damn them. Damn them all...


The good news was that the enemy had been lured into the city.

The bad news: footage of the enemy firing on civilians, for use as propaganda, would not be filmed this day.

Solution: Incendiary presents, so that the Dark Lord's will would be done.

The four Summoners ignored the enemy's splitting up, concentrating their ire upon one enemy at a time, and firing alpha-strikes at anything that came within short range. However, they seemed hesitant to fire in urban environments, probably out of a fear of missing and hitting civilian targets.

Nevertheless, shades of yellow flashed on their damage displays, mostly on legs and torso sections, from the few shots that the enemy did feel confident enough to fire. One was far more heavily damaged, however.

The four 'Mechs were careful to keep their backs nearly touching buildings, so that their weaker rear armor would not be exposed in the enemy flanking attempts.

Meanwhile, as more enemies crawled throughout the city, the vastly outnumbered infantry officially started Project Welcoming Committee, as throughout the city, everywhere except the area actually defended by something that could actually damage the enemy, where the four 'Mechs stood and held their ground, doomed, brainwashed infantry ignited their white phosphorus charges.

The Burning of Isokepe would soon be complete.

A Ring of Fire broke out around the city, around the already-destroyed downtown, broken only by the postion of the lance of Summoners. The Summoner pilots simply activated active life support as the fire rose a kilometer to their right, a kilometer to their left, for their 'Mechs were designed to operate in inhospitable atmospheres, or vacuum environments, such as on planetary moons, as well as terran ones. Once again, the air inside the city fed the flames, and nothing else.

Another million civilians died. All of the "re-educated" infantry died.

Only the buildings within a kilometer of the four Summoners survived; yet their inhabitants still had the air sucked out of their lungs.
Several hundred Marines and more light mech/droid units died in the fires, and the APCs were ordered to retreat from the cities, though several were destroyed in the explosions. The sabercats turned away their eyes as if in angry sorrow, but really to reduce the glares of the flash. They roared in anger and their pilots tried to search out the enemy mech units and destroy them once and for all. Once they did find them, deafening blast of turbolasers razed out at them. Surviving cougars and wolves switched from attack mode to search and rescue mode, rooting through the place for survivors.

Once the Admiral recieved word in his statesroom, he slammed a fist in fury on his desk. "Finish off those things and look for survivors, then pull back to the base." He ordered. "This is insane..."

The former Wraiths thanked Tsunade for the clothing, got dressed, and let Tsunade take them to the Archives, where they would likely spend the next several days...
Tsunade led them to the Archives, where she showed them how to access the various consoles and datapads containing encyclopedic knowledge of the Order's history, from the dawn back 25,000 years or so, to the latest so far. There were some gaps, as knowledge is invariably lost over time, but not that many.

The mechs soon made for the second city under Keith's orders when a second flash of fire made Taylor stiffen. He sighed and shook his head. Damn them. Damn them all...

Isokepe rages in flames again, a city now completely burnt to the ground.

Knight Whitfield shed a tear, for it seemed that hope itself was dead in times such as these...

It didn't take long for Whitfield to sense the anger rise within Taylor, and knowing that he hadn't been in the situation he was warned about yet, Whitfield issued him a warning: Check that anger, Taylor. Keith will only be able to keep you out of the situation I warned you about for so long.

Keith sensed the destruction, too. Even worse, his instincts told him that the Coredians had fallen into a trap. He let out a heavy sigh, thinking to himself that he would have to have a little chat with Admiral Basque tonight.

However, he had another city to liberate, hopefully before enemy reinforcements arrived there, for time was not on his side. "Whitfield, come with me for another scouting mission. Major Taylor, set up patrols on the western edge of the city," he ordered in a heavy voice, as if he knew something terrible had happened. Whitfield followed him, knowing that the longer they stayed to mourn, the more civilians would die on this end...

Several hundred Marines and more light mech/droid units died in the fires, and the APCs were ordered to retreat from the cities, though several were destroyed in the explosions. The sabercats turned away their eyes as if in angry sorrow, but really to reduce the glares of the flash. They roared in anger and their pilots tried to search out the enemy mech units and destroy them once and for all. Once they did find them, deafening blast of turbolasers razed out at them. Surviving cougars and wolves switched from attack mode to search and rescue mode, rooting through the place for survivors.

Once the Admiral recieved word in his statesroom, he slammed a fist in fury on his desk. "Finish off those things and look for survivors, then pull back to the base." He ordered. "This is insane..."

The surviving forces, consisting only of the lance of Summoners, met turbolasers with Gauss Rifles and pulse lasers, also firing missiles at the sabercats that got too close. Their pilots targeted the closest sabercat, not switching targets until after their current one fell on the field of battle.

Turbolasers splattered all over the 'Mechs' armor, taking down the most damaged one. Yellow turned to orange on the damage displays of the three others.

Tsunade led them to the Archives, where she showed them how to access the various consoles and datapads containing encyclopedic knowledge of the Order's history, from the dawn back 25,000 years or so, to the latest so far. There were some gaps, as knowledge is invariably lost over time, but not that many.

The five countryless military officers and 'MechWarriors found themselves instead diligent researchers, as they applied the methods that Tsunade had retaught them. Somehow, this seemed familiar...not the content of the data, but rather the method of procuring it.

The five eagerly started reading, first with the more general encyclopedias, then spinning off to look up more detailed information on topics of interest; they would likely spend several days here researching, leaving only for food and drink.

This prolly should be left alone for a bit. They're not gonna do much other than research for a while.

Isokepe rages in flames again, a city now completely burnt to the ground.

Knight Whitfield shed a tear, for it seemed that hope itself was dead in times such as these...

It didn't take long for Whitfield to sense the anger rise within Taylor, and knowing that he hadn't been in the situation he was warned about yet, Whitfield issued him a warning: Check that anger, Taylor. Keith will only be able to keep you out of the situation I warned you about for so long.

Keith sensed the destruction, too. Even worse, his instincts told him that the Coredians had fallen into a trap. He let out a heavy sigh, thinking to himself that he would have to have a little chat with Admiral Basque tonight.

However, he had another city to liberate, hopefully before enemy reinforcements arrived there, for time was not on his side. "Whitfield, come with me for another scouting mission. Major Taylor, set up patrols on the western edge of the city," he ordered in a heavy voice, as if he knew something terrible had happened. Whitfield followed him, knowing that the longer they stayed to mourn, the more civilians would die on this end...
"Right." Taylor and the other mechs set up two mech shifts on the western side of the city.


The surviving forces, consisting only of the lance of Summoners, met turbolasers with Gauss Rifles and pulse lasers, also firing missiles at the sabercats that got too close. Their pilots targeted the closest sabercat, not switching targets until after their current one fell on the field of battle.

Turbolasers splattered all over the 'Mechs' armor, taking down the most damaged one. Yellow turned to orange on the damage displays of the three others.
Going with the original plans, the Sabrecats split their forces again and though one fell, the others moved in with zig-zag movements to keep the gauss rifles and missiles from locking on well. They continued to fire their turbolasers as they swiftly moved closer and closer to the mechs.


The five countryless military officers and 'MechWarriors found themselves instead diligent researchers, as they applied the methods that Tsunade had retaught them. Somehow, this seemed familiar...not the content of the data, but rather the method of procuring it.

The five eagerly started reading, first with the more general encyclopedias, then spinning off to look up more detailed information on topics of interest; they would likely spend several days here researching, leaving only for food and drink.

This prolly should be left alone for a bit. They're not gonna do much other than research for a while.
OOC: Yeah. Let's do that.

"Right." Taylor and the other mechs set up two mech shifts on the western side of the city.

Keith, stop. The enemy has reinforced its position in Rejaf.

The Lieutenant Colonel stopped, for by now he implicitly trusted Whitfield; whether he could say the same for Taylor was...uncertain at best.

What's going on? Keith asked his elder through the Force.

I sense five lances of 'Mechs, that's what. Almost two Companies.

Anything else, Jedi Whitfield?

Incendiaries. Not in the city, but moving towards it, under escort. More reinforcements.

Oh, shit! Where's your X-wing? We gotta go back and try to get ourselves some air support, or at the very least, updated sat photos!

The two hurried back to the rest of their unit. "Major Taylor, get me in touch with Admiral Basque!" Keith called, with a not-so-subtle hint of urgency in his voice, on his intercom.

Going with the original plans, the Sabrecats split their forces again and though one fell, the others moved in with zig-zag movements to keep the gauss rifles and missiles from locking on well. They continued to fire their turbolasers as they swiftly moved closer and closer to the mechs.

Their efforts to shake missile locks worked.

Their efforts to shake Gauss Rifle locks...not so much, because hypersonic slugs don't lock onto targets; they're just fired.

And fire them the three remaining 'Mechs did, and as the Sabrecats, also known as targets, came closer, aiming became sufficiently easier to at least partially offset the effects of the zigzagging. Of course, no one knew when the Coredians would figure out that the maximal chance of evading the heavy slugs came from evasive manuevers at the maximum range of the weapons they were trying to evade.

The three surviving 'MechWarriors did not care. They simply continued to do their jobs, as mindless robots do, firing Gauss slugs and pulse lasers at the closest target available, even as another Summoner succumbed to the turbolaser fire, and the other two absorbed a bit more damage.

Keith, stop. The enemy has reinforced its position in Rejaf.

The Lieutenant Colonel stopped, for by now he implicitly trusted Whitfield; whether he could say the same for Taylor was...uncertain at best.

What's going on? Keith asked his elder through the Force.

I sense five lances of 'Mechs, that's what. Almost two Companies.

Anything else, Jedi Whitfield?

Incendiaries. Not in the city, but moving towards it, under escort. More reinforcements.

Oh, shit! Where's your X-wing? We gotta go back and try to get ourselves some air support, or at the very least, updated sat photos!

The two hurried back to the rest of their unit. "Major Taylor, get me in touch with Admiral Basque!" Keith called, with a not-so-subtle hint of urgency in his voice, on his intercom.
Taylor noticed the urgency and gave him the comlink number to the Admiral. "What's happening?" The Fire Knight asked.


Their efforts to shake missile locks worked.

Their efforts to shake Gauss Rifle locks...not so much, because hypersonic slugs don't lock onto targets; they're just fired.

And fire them the three remaining 'Mechs did, and as the Sabrecats, also known as targets, came closer, aiming became sufficiently easier to at least partially offset the effects of the zigzagging. Of course, no one knew when the Coredians would figure out that the maximal chance of evading the heavy slugs came from evasive manuevers at the maximum range of the weapons they were trying to evade.

The three surviving 'MechWarriors did not care. They simply continued to do their jobs, as mindless robots do, firing Gauss slugs and pulse lasers at the closest target available, even as another Summoner succumbed to the turbolaser fire, and the other two absorbed a bit more damage.
Another one was blasted by a gauss slug and then the last three remaining Sabercats of this squad ducked behind buildings to reduce the chances of getting hit, while trying to move into position to shoot the enemy.

Taylor noticed the urgency and gave him the comlink number to the Admiral. "What's happening?" The Fire Knight asked.

"Well, let's just say airstrikes are needed to prevent another imminent slaughter," Keith told Taylor, sensing his anger at the fate of that city, as he programmed the Admiral's comm information into his own commlink. "And they're needed, like now."

Got it. Keith switched on the commlink. "Admiral Basque, this is Allaire. If you're not too busy at the moment, I could use some support..."

Another one was blasted by a gauss slug and then the last three remaining Sabercats of this squad ducked behind buildings to reduce the chances of getting hit, while trying to move into position to shoot the enemy.

The two remaining 'Mechs maneuvered to have better shots at their hiding enemies before firing a couple more Gauss rounds at their selected target, along with their pulse lasers. However, enemy turbolaser fire managed to bring down one of the last two Summoners after it fired its last Gauss round before exploding.

"Well, let's just say airstrikes are needed to prevent another imminent slaughter," Keith told Taylor, sensing his anger at the fate of that city, as he programmed the Admiral's comm information into his own commlink. "And they're needed, like now."
"Oh." Taylor felt a spike of hope that it might help turn around his foul mood.

Got it. Keith switched on the commlink. "Admiral Basque, this is Allaire. If you're not too busy at the moment, I could use some support..."
"Yes, what is it?" The Admiral asked.


The two remaining 'Mechs maneuvered to have better shots at their hiding enemies before firing a couple more Gauss rounds at their selected target, along with their pulse lasers. However, enemy turbolaser fire managed to bring down one of the last two Summoners after it fired its last Gauss round.
In return, another cat went down, and then the two decided on a strategy to finish the last one off. The two cats ducked around buildings, and then while one risked himself to be exposed slightly in front, the other moved in to attack from behind...

"Oh." Taylor felt a spike of hope that it might help turn around his foul mood.

"Yes, what is it?" The Admiral asked.

Keith got to the point quickly. "Our recon found incendiary convoys heading towards Rejaf, where the enemy seems to be forming a line. They aren't there yet; they're still coming up from the southwest. They need to be fried from orbit before they get into the city. Also, because we're outnumbered two and a half to one, we would like the latest satellite recon you can give us on the city.

Yes, we have advanced nearly two hundred clicks since this morning. But we haven't encountered the major defensive line yet, either. The enemy wasn't able to get that far east that quickly. Over."

In return, another cat went down, and then the two decided on a strategy to finish the last one off. The two cats ducked around buildings, and then while one risked himself to be exposed slightly in front, the other moved in to attack from behind...

The last, heavily-damaged Summoner fired one last Gauss round at the exposed Sabrecat, which probably wouldn't be enough for a kill unless its shields were down, as it succumbed, ironically, from the exposed Sabrecat's fire. Ironically, the rear armor was stronger at this point, because the 'Mech's front armor had gradually slagged from turbolaser shots over the course of the battle.

Keith got to the point quickly. "Our recon found incendiary convoys heading towards Rejaf, where the enemy seems to be forming a line. They aren't there yet; they're still coming up from the southwest. They need to be fried from orbit before they get into the city. Also, because we're outnumbered two and a half to one, we would like the latest satellite recon you can give us on the city.

Yes, we have advanced nearly two hundred clicks since this morning. But we haven't encountered the major defensive line yet, either. The enemy wasn't able to get that far east that quickly. Over."
"I understand the situation. Help will be forthcoming soon." The Admiral replied and switched to the Star Destroyer captain. "Javis? We want orbitial recon at sector 5-E two minutes ago? Oh, and there's a couple of convoys that needs wasting."

"Will do, Admiral." The Captain replied. "Javis out. All right peoples, you heard the man! Start snapping pictures and give me a firing solution on those convoys!"

The Star Destroyer descend slightly closer to the Earth's orbit, using its tractor beams to move aside satellites. Then it began to take closeup sensor readings, visual, thermal, etc of the city and beamed them down to the Earth, and the fire control systems prepared to target the convoys.

"We have a firing solution!" One of the weapons officers declared a short few seconds later.

"Alright. Ready..." The turbolasers primed their systems.

"Aim..." The turrets began moving to target the enemy.

"Fire!" Blazing green light burst out of the turrets and began to rain down on the convoys.

Meanwhile, the sensor readings were beamed down to the planet and bounced to the good guys over near Rejaf.

The last, heavily-damaged Summoner fired one last Gauss round at the exposed Sabrecat, which probably wouldn't be enough for a kill unless its shields were down, as it succumbed, ironically, from the exposed Sabrecat's fire. Ironically, the rear armor was stronger at this point, because the 'Mech's front armor had gradually slagged from turbolaser shots over the course of the battle.
"Two out of five..." One pilot shook his head angrily.

"And a massive firestorm..." The other sighed, reinforcing the shield after the gauss slug smacked into it. "Call in the infantry units and search for survivors."

Already, cougars and wolves continued searching for the survivors of the firestorm while a few APCs and medical repulsarlift barges rolled in to pick them up. The battle, in the Marines' mind, was a loss. The fallen Sabercats were taken back to the base for repairs and their pilots placed into body bags for the families.

"I understand the situation. Help will be forthcoming soon." The Admiral replied and switched to the Star Destroyer captain. "Javis? We want orbitial recon at sector 5-E two minutes ago? Oh, and there's a couple of convoys that needs wasting."

"Will do, Admiral." The Captain replied. "Javis out. All right peoples, you heard the man! Start snapping pictures and give me a firing solution on those convoys!"

The Star Destroyer descend slightly closer to the Earth's orbit, using its tractor beams to move aside satellites. Then it began to take closeup sensor readings, visual, thermal, etc of the city and beamed them down to the Earth, and the fire control systems prepared to target the convoys.

"We have a firing solution!" One of the weapons officers declared a short few seconds later.

"Alright. Ready..." The turbolasers primed their systems.

"Aim..." The turrets began moving to target the enemy.

"Fire!" Blazing green light burst out of the turrets and began to rain down on the convoys.

Meanwhile, the sensor readings were beamed down to the planet and bounced to the good guys over near Rejaf.

Green bolts of death rained down upon the chemical weapon convoys. As turbolasers rained down upon vehicles with incendiary cargoes, said vehicles erupted in miniature firestorms that destroyed their escorts.

Jedi Whitfield, the "elder" Fire Knight, sensed firestorms erupting betwen about fifty and eighty kilometers west and southwest of Rejaf. Noticeably absent, however, was the outcry of a few hundred thousand souls crying out before their fiery doom that had accompanied the Isokepe firestorms.

Nay, these were simply fires on the eastern plain, that would die out quickly because of the cold weather and because they would melt the snowpack, releasing moisture into the ground that would stifle their growth. Whitfield let a sigh of relief, for he would rather see these weapons detonated in the sparsely populated countryside than in the middle of a city.

As would anyone, save for the Sith and their minions.

Meanwhile, Keith let out a sigh as he analyzed the Coredians' satellite data. All but one of the lances he would face were heavy units--one lance of Timber Wolf IIICs, one lance of Atlases, one of Maulers, and one of Summoners. Moreover, four Hollander IIs (http://www.lordsofthebattlefield.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=12174&view=next&sid=09ae6db4f56658c92eed7f7010afad8e) also inhabited the city, and while they were lightly armored, and thus easy to destroy, they were also highly manueverable and carried potent weaponry.

He knew he had to both divide the enemy and draw the enemy out of the city to win this fight. How to do both at the same time...that was the problem.

He simply did not have enough resources to surround the city and draw the enemy out to multiple exit points. If he tried, he would end up with battles of seven-on-three, which, at best, would end up in mutual destruction of both his unit and his enemy's. He much preferred twenty-on-nine.

However, the enemy would be easier to divide at night...he could lure out the patrols, and fight other enemies just roused out of bed a few minutes later. Even if he had to fight waves of five or so at a time, and even if there was only a minute or two between waves, it was still better than a whole company of enemy 'Mechs firing on his unit all at once. Enemy divided. And lured out of the city.

Just what Keith needed. A post-midnight blitzkrieg. Keith wanted to make sure the enemies came out of their barracks groggy.

He advised members of his unit to start resting, even though it was only two in the afternoon, for they would strike at two in the morning. After advising the unit that he would prepare and present the mission plan around one in the morning, assigning patrol shifts, and ordering that two of the Timber Wolf IVC be brought forth from the transports, he contacted Admiral Basque again to request that his recon be updated at about midnight, as well as to inform him that he could anticipate news the next morning.

"Two out of five..." One pilot shook his head angrily.

"And a massive firestorm..." The other sighed, reinforcing the shield after the gauss slug smacked into it. "Call in the infantry units and search for survivors."

Already, cougars and wolves continued searching for the survivors of the firestorm while a few APCs and medical repulsarlift barges rolled in to pick them up. The battle, in the Marines' mind, was a loss. The fallen Sabercats were taken back to the base for repairs and their pilots placed into body bags for the families.

There were about eleven thousand survivors to be found, almost all trapped under rubble, out of what had been a city of nearly two million. For the most part, those that had not burnt, had had all of the oxygen sucked out of their lungs in a matter of a couple of seconds. Most of the survivors would be found either in the tiny section of the city, about a square kilometer, that had been spared from the flames themselves, or in a thin ring, less than a block wide, between the original firestorm and the more recent firestorm that had just formed a ring of destruction around the destroyed core of the city. Of course, even in the few city blocks that had been spared, people had still died from buildings collapsing on their heads, even if they had survived the massive drops in air pressure.

More than half of the survivors required treatment for severe burns.

CW, MSN is helpful...

Green bolts of death rained down upon the chemical weapon convoys. As turbolasers rained down upon vehicles with incendiary cargoes, said vehicles erupted in miniature firestorms that destroyed their escorts.

Jedi Whitfield, the "elder" Fire Knight, sensed firestorms erupting betwen about fifty and eighty kilometers west and southwest of Rejaf. Noticeably absent, however, was the outcry of a few hundred thousand souls crying out before their fiery doom that had accompanied the Isokepe firestorms.

Nay, these were simply fires on the eastern plain, that would die out quickly because of the cold weather and because they would melt the snowpack, releasing moisture into the ground that would stifle their growth. Whitfield let a sigh of relief, for he would rather see these weapons detonated in the sparsely populated countryside than in the middle of a city.

As would anyone, save for the Sith and their minions.

Meanwhile, Keith let out a sigh as he analyzed the Coredians' satellite data. All but one of the lances he would face were heavy units--one lance of Timber Wolf IIICs, one lance of Atlases, one of Maulers, and one of Summoners. Moreover, four Hollander IIs (http://www.lordsofthebattlefield.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=12174&view=next&sid=09ae6db4f56658c92eed7f7010afad8e) also inhabited the city, and while they were lightly armored, and thus easy to destroy, they were also highly manueverable and carried potent weaponry.

He knew he had to both divide the enemy and draw the enemy out of the city to win this fight. How to do both at the same time...that was the problem.

He simply did not have enough resources to surround the city and draw the enemy out to multiple exit points. If he tried, he would end up with battles of seven-on-three, which, at best, would end up in mutual destruction of both his unit and his enemy's. He much preferred twenty-on-nine.

However, the enemy would be easier to divide at night...he could lure out the patrols, and fight other enemies just roused out of bed a few minutes later. Even if he had to fight waves of five or so at a time, and even if there was only a minute or two between waves, it was still better than a whole company of enemy 'Mechs firing on his unit all at once. Enemy divided. And lured out of the city.

Just what Keith needed. A post-midnight blitzkrieg. Keith wanted to make sure the enemies came out of their barracks groggy.

He advised members of his unit to start resting, even though it was only two in the afternoon, for they would strike at two in the morning. After advising the unit that he would prepare and present the mission plan around one in the morning, assigning patrol shifts, and ordering that two of the Timber Wolf IVC be brought forth from the transports, he contacted Admiral Basque again to request that his recon be updated at about midnight, as well as to inform him that he could anticipate news the next morning.
Night assaults are a bitch... Taylor thought as he tried to take a nap in their makeshift forward base. It took some time, but he soon forced himself into a mediative sleep, and thus, dozed off. The other mechwarriors took slightly longer, but they too rested.

Ten hours later, the midnight update from the Star Destroyer beamed down to the mechwarriors...

There were about eleven thousand survivors to be found, almost all trapped under rubble, out of what had been a city of nearly two million. For the most part, those that had not burnt, had had all of the oxygen sucked out of their lungs in a matter of a couple of seconds. Most of the survivors would be found either in the tiny section of the city, about a square kilometer, that had been spared from the flames themselves, or in a thin ring, less than a block wide, between the original firestorm and the more recent firestorm that had just formed a ring of destruction around the destroyed core of the city. Of course, even in the few city blocks that had been spared, people had still died from buildings collapsing on their heads, even if they had survived the massive drops in air pressure.

More than half of the survivors required treatment for severe burns.
In the first hour of the aftermath, about two thousand survivors were found thanks to the excellent senses of the cougars and wolves, then SAR droids moved in to take the rubble off the people with their high strength. Finally, medics and troopers helped to take the survivors into the medical barges, where they would be treated for burns and other injuries. All through the day and soon after the sun went down, the search for survivors continued...

Night assaults are a bitch... Taylor thought as he tried to take a nap in their makeshift forward base. It took some time, but he soon forced himself into a mediative sleep, and thus, dozed off. The other mechwarriors took slightly longer, but they too rested.

Ten hours later, the midnight update from the Star Destroyer beamed down to the mechwarriors...

At about midnight, both Whitfield and Keith awoke from their slumber. Keith looked at the updated recon, noted that two of the lances were on patrol, three were powered down, and saw that it was good. Whitfield, however, had other ideas...

He scooped up a bunch of snow in a bucket, then melted it. For, regardless of how much Taylor disliked his commander, he would probably want to see this.

Cold water splashed all over Taylor's head. I want you to observe something, Taylor. He looked away, towards the dimly lit building where Keith analyzed the Star Destroyer's recon data.

Keith, it is time.

Now?

Yes, now. It will take ten minutes, maybe fifteen.

Keith grudgingly left the recon data on the table inside, even as ideas formed in his mind. For his feelings told him that, sooner or later, this must occur.

As a Force-sensitive liberated from the Dark Side, he knew he must be trained in the Light, or he stood a high chance of remission. Especially with lingering brain damage that he had forgone treatment for, so the others in his position could receive their treatment sooner, and with some of that damage permanant anyway.

After walking outside into the cold, Keith bowed to his elder. Whitfield returned the bow, and both ignited their lightsabers at the same time, Whitfield using his spare, for an adjustible-amplitude blade was completely unnecessary and its use would be quite unbecoming for this event. Crimson and purple blades of light pierced the air.

"Go." The elder Jedi only needed one word to tell Keith what to do.

Keith raised his crimson blade before making a quick slash down at Whitfield. Whitfield's own blade swung effortlessly from right to left, pushing Keith's out of harm's way. Keith's entire body lay in front of Whitfield for a tiny fraction of a second, during which time Whitfield thrust his blade at Keith; however, the trainee stepped back.

But Whitfield stopped his thrust three inches short of Keith's chest.

"Don't rely on previous experience when handling something as delicate and as dangerous as a lightsaber. Use your feelings, use the Force. You will be quicker." Whitfield gave Keith a moment to catch his breath. "Again."

Keith struck again, quicker this time. Whitfield parried again, but before he could counter, Keith attacked again, and Whitfield brought his lightsaber up to intercept Keith's higher swing. As Keith brought his lightsaber up for another strike, Whitfield made a lateral slash at Keith's lightsaber-bearing hand. Keith flicked his wrist instantaneously, bringing his crimson blade to intercept Whitfield's purple. However, Whitfield responded by lowering his saber, then quickly bringing it back up again in a quick swing that suddenly stopped two inches from Keith's chin.

"Better. But your mind is still occupied, distracted by other things. Clear your mind of thought and let the Force flow through you. Do not trust your senses, for they can deceive you. Trust instead in the Force. Again."

Keith forced himself to clear his mind of any intrusive thought whatsoever, before half-closing his eyes. He did feel the Force surging within him, independently of the Dark Lord, on a scale he had never before known, for up until now, it had been displaced by other things. Time seemed to slow down as Keith struck, far faster than he had the first couple of rounds, and Whitfield parried and counterattacked. Keith's blade intercepted Whitfield's with enough force to knock Whitfield back a step.

Keith spun around, letting the Force guide him. His crimson blade became nothing more than a blur in the air as it spun around in perfect unison with his body. Whitfield's amethyst blade met it, head on.

The two sabers locked. The two combatants made eye contact with each other, Keith breathing heavily but not knowing about it.

Draw.

Whitfield broke the silence. "You learn quickly, and it will serve you well." Both deactivated their lightsabers.

At about midnight, both Whitfield and Keith awoke from their slumber. Keith looked at the updated recon, noted that two of the lances were on patrol, three were powered down, and saw that it was good. Whitfield, however, had other ideas...

He scooped up a bunch of snow in a bucket, then melted it. For, regardless of how much Taylor disliked his commander, he would probably want to see this.

Cold water splashed all over Taylor's head.
Taylor suddenly spluttered from the rude wakeup call. "What the hell?! Whitfield, you senile old---"
I want you to observe something, Taylor. He looked away, towards he dimly lit building where Keith analyzed the Star Destroyer's recon data.
Drying the water off his face with his sleeve, Taylor grumbled something about senile old Jedi and just watched the proceedings.

Keith, it is time.

Now?

Yes, now. It will take ten minutes, maybe fifteen.

Keith grudgingly left the recon data on the table inside, even as ideas formed in his mind. For his feelings told him that, sooner or later, this must occur.

As a Force-sensitive liberated from the Dark Side, he knew he must be trained in the Light, or he stood a high chance of remission. Especially with lingering brain damage that he had forgone treatment for, so the others in his position could receive their treatment sooner, and with some of that damage permanant anyway.

After walking outside into the cold, Keith bowed to his elder. Whitfield returned the bow, and both ignited their lightsabers at the same time, Whitfield using his spare, for an adjustible-amplitude blade was completely unnecessary and its use would be quite unbecoming for this event. Crimson and purple blades of light pierced the air.

"Go." The elder Jedi only needed one word to tell Keith what to do.

Keith raised his crimson blade before making a quick slash down at Whitfield. Whitfield's own blade swung effortlessly from right to left, pushing Keith's out of harm's way. Keith's entire body lay in front of Whitfield for a tiny fraction of a second, during which time Whitfield thrust his blade at Keith; however, the trainee stepped back.

But Whitfield stopped his thrust three inches short of Keith's chest.

"Don't rely on previous experience when handling something as delicate and as dangerous as a lightsaber. Use your feelings, use the Force. You will be quicker." Whitfield gave Keith a moment to catch his breath. "Again."

Keith struck again, quicker this time. Whitfield parried again, but before he could counter, Keith attacked again, and Whitfield brought his lightsaber up to intercept Keith's higher swing. As Keith brought his lightsaber up for another strike, Whitfield made a lateral slash at Keith's lightsaber-bearing hand. Keith flicked his wrist instantaneously, bringing his crimson blade to intercept Whitfield's purple. However, Whitfield responded by lowering his saber, then quickly bringing it back up again in a quick swing that suddenly stopped two inches from Keith's chin.

"Better. But your mind is still occupied, distracted by other things. Clear your mind of thought and let the Force flow through you. Do not trust your senses, for they can deceive you. Trust instead in the Force. Again."

Keith forced himself to clear his mind of any intrusive thought whatsoever, before half-closing his eyes. He did feel the Force surging within him, independently of the Dark Lord, on a scale he had never before known, for up until now, it had been displaced by other things. Time seemed to slow down as Keith struck, far faster than he had the first couple of rounds, and Whitfield parried and counterattacked. Keith's blade intercepted Whitfield's with enough force to knock Whitfield back a step.

Keith spun around, letting the Force guide him. His crimson blade became nothing more than a blur in the air as it spun around in perfect unison with his body. Whitfield's amethyst blade met it, head on.

The two sabers locked. The two combatants made eye contact with each other, Keith breathing heavily but not knowing about it.

Draw.

Whitfield broke the silence. "You learn quickly, and it will serve you well." Both deactivated their lightsabers.
Back to basics. Taylor folded his arms and watched the proceedings end. Despite the rude wake up call, he watched the training session with interest, recalling his own with Grandpa and other Masters.

Taylor suddenly spluttered from the rude wakeup call. "What the hell?! Whitfield, you senile old---"

Drying the water off his face with his sleeve, Taylor grumbled something about senile old Jedi and just watched the proceedings.

Back to basics. Taylor folded his arms and watched the proceedings end. Despite the rude wake up call, he watched the training session with interest, recalling his own with Grandpa and other Masters.

Whitfield looked at the old clock inside the command shack from whence Keith had come. "I told you it would only take a few minutes. Now, I believe you have a mission to plan for, a city to liberate, for a Jedi must also learn stewardship of others."

"Yes, Master." Keith went back inside to complete his planning, as Whitfield went to wake the rest of the unit, by somewhat less intrusive methods than water in the face.

The old Jedi gathered the unit within the small building when Keith indicated he was ready to present the mission plan. Keith laid out the daytime satellite photos for all to see, because they would make the geography of the city clearer, and he had marked the last known positions, patrols, and important buldings. While he had given thought to striking directly at the 'MechWarrior barracks, he had abandoned this idea because, of course, the enemy had located it in a residential area and Keith could not be absolutely certain what building would have been the target. Of course, getting that far into the city undetected would have been difficult, at best.

"Everyone, listen up." Keith's voice boomed throughout the tiny facility, so it wasn't like he actually had to tell anyone to listen, with the possible exception of Taylor. "We're outnumbered a little more than two to one, which means that we have to divide the enemy in addition to luring him out of the city, because trust me, twenty 'Mechs firing on you all at once is a Very Bad Thing. Which is why this is a night mission, even though at least one of you objects." Keith glared at Taylor in such a manner that only he (and maybe the politician) would notice.

"There are two patrols, the northeast and the southeast patrol. Together, they block off entrance into Rejaf. The northern patrol consists of siege-assault Timber Wolves, the same exact 'Mech that serves as the biggest in our unit. The southern patrol consists of Hollander IICs, a chassis built around a Gauss Rifle and little else, except a bit of manueverability. We will encounter the northern patrol first, and it will be a long range duel that can't be avoided without getting the southern patrol on us too. Concentrate fire on one at a time, take 'em out as quickly as possible.

Around the time that the northern patrol falls, the southern will start attacking from long range. Their weapons will blow chunks off armor if they hit. Fortunately, they have almost no armor themselves, and the whole lot of 'em can be taken down in about fifteen seconds.

That leaves a lance of Atlases, the same behemoths we fought earlier today, a lance of Maulers, identical to our Welcoming Committee, and a lance of Summoners, which are about halfway between a Hollander and a Mauler. When the patrols are gone, Whitfield and I will go into the city and start luring them out. We'll try to do it one lance at a time, and we'll have enough firepower to take a couple down before they ever reach the rest of you. These units are currently shut down, which tells me that while we're dealing with the patrols, twelve enemies will wake up and start powering up their 'Mechs. Whitfield and I will be in the eighty-tonners, 'cause we'll need a bit more armor to cover our asses along with the speed. Meanwhile, the rest of you separate into two lances, one north, one south, and we'll lead them straight down the center for multi-directional attack fun.

You can only expect a reprieve of a minute or two at most between engagements; it'll be coming in fast and furious. I need a volunteer to take point, because Whitfield and I need to be in pristine condition for our little adventures in the city. So, who's gonna volunteer?"

A mech pilot by the name of James stepped forward. "I will, sir."

"Very good then, Specialist Burgen." Keith read his insignia and nametape, wishing in the back of his mind that he didn't have to be in such a hurry to conduct this campaign, so he could actually get to know those in his unit.

Today would probably be that day, almost certainly, because Keith knew that after this battle, extensive repairs awaited.

"The unit deploys in twenty minutes!" Keith's voice filled the room as he finalized the mission briefing. "Prepare your 'Mechs! Specialist Burgen, you're reassigned to one of the hundred-twenty-tonners that Whitfield and I used earlier in the campaign." The young, yet experienced, commander knew all too well that he would need it.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Specialist Burgen snapped a salute.

Soon, the mechwarriors began readying their Timberwolf IIIs for deployment...and serious combat. They climbed into the cockpits, strapped on the helmets, checked that all systems are go, and prepared to move out.

Keith returned the specialist's salute before going to his own 'Mech to prepare it for the field of battle.

"Check your nav points, Specialist Burgen. Head to Alpha, south-southwest, maximum throttle. All units, form up on him," Keith radioed to the unit as he put on his neurofeedback helmet. "IVs, maintain eighty percent throttle." This would keep everyone's pace even, despite the disparate engine capacities of the 'Mechs.

Of course, that last order only maintained to the politician and some Coredian pilot, for the unit was one short of the heavy assault Timber Wolf IIICs to allot one to everyone who didn't have to worry about agility.

Keith and Whitfield lurked near the back of the formation as it encroached more and more upon the first patrol. Neither particularly cared for hanging out in the back, but both knew they had to preserve their armor as much as possible for what lay ahead.

Before long, the first member of the first patrol appeared on Specialist Burgen's scopes, a 'Mech identical to the one Burgen himself piloted. "Make your shots count," Lieutenant Colonel Allaire told, or reminded, the unit over the intercom.

The Specialist looked through his scopes to see the first enemy Mech on patrol. Locking on to the center of the mech, he sent PPC bolts at the enemy, followed by a laser volley.

The other three heavy assault 'Mechs in the patrol lance were only between a hundred and two hundred meters behind the first, and wasted no time in appearing on the young Specialist's scope.

"All units, open fire." Keith felt that he would only be giving a redundant command, but it couldn't hurt.

Blue streaks of superheated ions darted across the clear night sky, some hundred meters long; the Star Destroyer in orbit could observe the battle if its crew paid attention. As the Specialist opened fire on the enemy, so too did Keith and Whitfield.

Keith let go of certain aspects of his conventional military training, instead using the Force exclusively to aim his twin particle projector cannons, and found that it was a bit faster and just as accurate. The Jedi was right in trusting the Force, all right.

The two scored a clean headkill, even as the Specialist's fire slagged a chunk of the enemy's center torso armor off. The enemy pilot managed a hurried particle projector shot before his death, but the other three opened fire on the point Specialist with their particle projector cannons and long-range pulse lasers.

Red streaks, from the pulse lasers, mixed in with the blue streaking across the sky. The two Jedi, knowing that these enemies must die before they dealt too much damage, also attained missile lock and fired missile salvoes at the other three, softening them up a bit for the other pilots...

The three enemy pilots reported unknown enemy activity. Soon, the Hollanders that Keith had worried about would make their way north; they had about ten kilometers to go before they would reinforce the postion. That left Keith's company with about five minutes before it would have reinforcements to deal with.

Taylor used the Force to unleash his PPCs on the farthest one to try and catch that one by surprise, then followed up with his pulse lasers. His lance launched missiles and lasers to help out.

Then Sergeant Ross and her lance targeted the formerly third one between Second and Fourth and let loose with their own weaponry, while the Specialist got damaged by the enemy, but continued to execute death and destruction on number two while maneuvering to reduce chances of damage.

A few of the enemy PPC bolts missed their targets, so the three surviving enemy pilots refined their aim a bit, firing pulse lasers while they waited for their PPCs to charge. Heat wasn't much of an issue when the temperature outside was ten below Celsius.

Taylor's own PPC shots struck the cockpit section of the last 'Mech, flash-melting about sixty percent of its armor and giving the pilot inside a *massive* headache. Nevertheless, he shoved the pain aside, for he had enemies to kill...

Although Taylor's pulse lasers made the problem worse, the pilot forced himself to reaim the PPCs for the next round.

Six blue bolts of energy lashed out, rushing towards Specialist Burgen's 'Mech. Still, they were not targeted to one specific armor section of the 'Mech, and would likely splatter all over.

Taylor's quarry ejected immediately after firing the second round of blue energy.

Sergeant Ross' lance delivered heavy damage to the third 'Mech, while Keith and Whitfield took down the second in tandem, both using the Force for their aim, scoring another clean kill for the salvage board...even if this unit lacked sufficient pilots for more 'Mechs, they would be of value in the future.

Meanwhile, as the Hollander IIs ran at full throttle to intercept the invaders, still a couple of minutes away, alarms began to sound in the 'MechWarrior barracks. Twelve additional pilots groggily got up as they rushed to put on their uniforms...

Specialist Burgen moved his mech aside but a blast smacked into his right flank all the same. Meanwhile, Sergeant Ross lined up another shot on the heavily damaged mech and fired her lasers straight at it.

Sergeant Ross' rapid-firing lasers gradually slagged away at the enemy's armor, and the last 120-ton 'Mech that Keith's underlings would have to deal with for the night exploded in a giant fireball as Ross' fire breached its reactor.

The Coredians seem to be getting more used to this, Keith thought to himself. Their fire is becoming more accurate.

As Keith and Whitfield began to separate from their unit, the Hollander IICs arrived, firing their Gauss slugs again at the point. The two Force-sensitives torso-twisted their 'Mechs to fire on the enemy while still heading into the city, taking one of the Hollanders down as they left.

"Form your positions after taking down this lance!" Keith radioed to the rest of his unit.

Specialist Burgen gritted his teeth and fired off a PPC volley at the closest Hollander while recieving a gauss shot near the cockpit, jarring his senses. "Damn, that hurt!"

Taylor and Ross each took on another Hollander with PPCs and lasers, while the other mechs used lasers as well.

Whitfield and Keith vanished into the western horizon as the rest of the unit exchanged fire with the Hollanders.

Taylor instantly killed his target, for it didn't take much to blast off the cockpit of a relatively lightly-armored 'Mech with a combination of heavy weapons and the Force. Sergeant Ross took down another one with a few seconds of concentrated fire, with a little assistance from her lancemates.

The last Hollander survived just long enough to fire its main weapon one last time, before its pilot ejected to escape the wrath of two assault lances.

Meanwhile, Keith entered the outskirts of Rejaf with his politician friend, searching out the enemy postion. By now, the three lances in the city were almost completely powered up, and as the Summoners were the fastest of the three remaining enemy 'Mech chassis, they were also the first ones the two Force-sensitives encountered. The two shot their PPCs in tandem, causing long bolts of blue to streak down an avenue, to attract the enemy's attention, killing one of their enemies in the process.

Then they turned and ran, occasionally looping back when the enemy showed signs of giving up pursuit, and taking down another Summoner in the process. As the Summoners pursued, the Maulers and Atlases followed, and would arrive a couple of minutes after the Summoners.

Keith and Whitfield took advantage of the wide avenue leading back out of the city to dodge quite a few Gauss slugs, but a couple scored hits on the two. One round glanced across Whitfield's right arm section, taking one of his PPCs with it. By the time the two reached the ambush point, more than half of their rear armor had been sheared off.

The duo would need no convincing to turn around and face the enemy after they streaked across their ambush point.

Whitfield and Keith vanished into the western horizon as the rest of the unit exchanged fire with the Hollanders.

Taylor instantly killed his target, for it didn't take much to blast off the cockpit of a relatively lightly-armored 'Mech with a combination of heavy weapons and the Force. Sergeant Ross took down another one with a few seconds of concentrated fire, with a little assistance from her lancemates.

The last Hollander survived just long enough to fire its main weapon one last time, before its pilot ejected to escape the wrath of two assault lances.
The gauss slug barely missed Taylor as he used Force-honed reflexes to dodge it. Immediately after, the lances executed the second half of the plan. Taylor's lance headed north while the Sergeant's lance sped south to set up the ambush...

Meanwhile, Keith entered the outskirts of Rejaf with his politician friend, searching out the enemy postion. By now, the three lances in the city were almost completely powered up, and as the Summoners were the fastest of the three remaining enemy 'Mech chassis, they were also the first ones the two Force-sensitives encountered. The two shot their PPCs in tandem, causing long bolts of blue to streak down an avenue, to attract the enemy's attention, killing one of their enemies in the process.

Then they turned and ran, occasionally looping back when the enemy showed signs of giving up pursuit, and taking down another Summoner in the process. As the Summoners pursued, the Maulers and Atlases followed, and would arrive a couple of minutes after the Summoners.

Keith and Whitfield took advantage of the wide avenue leading back out of the city to dodge quite a few Gauss slugs, but a couple scored hits on the two. One round glanced across Whitfield's right arm section, taking one of his PPCs with it. By the time the two reached the ambush point, more than half of their rear armor had been sheared off.

The duo would need no convincing to turn around and face the enemy after they streaked across their ambush point.
Once more, an ambush zone was set up for the enemies. The Summoners, the same enemies the Sabercats had to deal with earlier, ran through the ambush zone and then blasts of PPCs, lasers, and missiles came from either north or south to take them out...

As the two Summoners raced southeast to follow Lieutenant Colonel Allaire and his politician friend, they found Sergeant Ross' southern lance and, taking a second to aim, fired on said lance. Four Gauss slugs raced towards their targets, one for each 'Mech. As the Summoners got in a couple of rounds of pulse laser fire to boot, Allaire and Whitfield outran their scopes.

Then, Taylor's lance converged upon them, and fourteen blue bolts of energy, as well as innumerable pulse laser shots, slammed into them from either side, rendering both little more than fireballs in a matter of seconds.

Keith and the politician turned around to face the Maulers that would arrive a minute or so later.

When the assault lance arrived, they fired their long-range missile rounds at the two 'Mechs, with only partial lock, for Whitfield and Keith proved quite good at evading missile lock attempts. The eight "light" gauss rifle rounds, however, weren't quite as easy to evade, for two struck Allaire, shearing off about twenty percent of his right flank's armor, and one struck Whitfield in the leg, shearing off a bit of its armor, too. The two fired their particle projector cannons, and though Whitfield had had one of his primary weapons destroyed, the other one still worked well enough to force one of the Maulers' pilots to eject in conjunction with Keith's fire.

As the two Summoners raced southeast to follow Lieutenant Colonel Allaire and his politician friend, they found Sergeant Ross' southern lance and, taking a second to aim, fired on the southern lance. Four Gauss slugs raced towards their targets, one for each 'Mech. As the Summoners got in a couple of rounds of pulse laser fire to boot, Allaire and Whitfield outran their scopes.

Then, Taylor's lance converged upon them, and fourteen blue bolts of energy, as well as innumerable pulse laser shots, slammed into them from either side, rendering both little more than fireballs in a matter of seconds.
One mech got hit on the leg, shearing off some armor, one was hit on the left flank, Ross lost one of her lasers and Burgen was hit on his PPC, shearing it off.

Keith and the politician turned around to face the Maulers that would arrive a minute or so later.

When the assault lance arrived, they fired their long-range missile rounds at the two 'Mechs, with only partial lock, for Whitfield and Keith proved quite good at evading missile lock attempts. The eight "light" gauss rifle rounds, however, weren't quite as easy to evade, for two struck Allaire, shearing off about twenty percent of his right flank's armor, and one struck Whitfield in the leg, shearing off a bit of its armor, too. The two fired their particle projector cannons, and though Whitfield had had one of his primary weapons destroyed, the other one still worked well enough to force one of the Maulers' pilots to eject in conjunction with Keith's fire.
A second volley of various weaponry from each of the lances lashed out at the Maulers in order to take this one down.

Taylor brought down another Mauler with Force-enhanced aim for his particle projector cannons, followed closely by more red pulse laser fire. The two remaining 'Mechs in the enemy lance fired their lasers at Keith and Whitfield, slagging off relatively insignificant portions of armor that would nevertheless add up over time; fortunately, the battle seemed to be progressing quickly. Another round of Gauss rounds followed; Keith evaded two; however, the other two severely damaged his right arm...however, by some stroke of either luck or the Force, probably the latter, the PPC mounted on said arm remained operational.

As the two enemies exchanged fire with Keith and Taylor, one of them blew up in a massive fireball, immediately as massive broadsides of blue, red, and a bit of green mixed in, coming from both north and south, slagged them; meanwhile, the other's armor almost completely melted under the concentrated fire. As Keith's particle projector cannons recharged, he finished them off with another round to the exposed reactor.

Before he could take another breath, the last and slowest enemy lance, of Atlases, appeared on their scopes. "Don't let them get close!" Keith reiterated from last time. The battle was almost over; he didn't want to see casualties now...

The Atlases launched a round of long-range missile spam at the southern lance. Whitfield reached out with the Force to prematurely detonate a few of the missiles, thinning out the missile swarm a bit before the Laser-based Anti-Missile Systems mounted on the Timber Wolves had to come into play.

Taylor copied Whitfield's attack in detonating the missiles, then shifted his Force gaze to one of the mechs and began overloading the reactor. The other three were attacked conventionally by the rest of the lances.

Between Taylor, Whitfield, and the LAMS equipment mounted on the allied 'Mechs, all of the missiles either detonated or simply slammed harmlessly into the ground. The Atlases fired their medium-range lasers at Keith and Whitfield, causing their HUD damage displays to light up in orange around the torso sections.

Meanwhile, Taylor's efforts succeeded in causing one of their reactors to go critical; Whitfield concentrated intensely on finishing another off in this manner before their heavy autocannons could come close enough to rip anybody to shreds. Shortly after Taylor blew the reactor of one, Whitfield blew the reactor of another, resulting in two spectacular fireballs that happened to burn off a bit of the survivors' armor.

But the two surviving Atlases would not survive for long; barely enough to fire more lasers and missiles at Whitfield and Keith, damaging their 'Mechs some more, causing their damage displays to go from orange to red in places. However, as with the Maulers, these two were quickly slagged to nearly nothing by two broadsides of blue streaks and a hail of pulse laser fire.

Whitfield and Keith unleashed Alpha Strikes in unison to finish off the enemy, felling the last two behemoths. And they took in deep breaths of relief.

Between Taylor, Whitfield, and the LAMS equipment mounted on the allied 'Mechs, all of the missiles either detonated or simply slammed harmlessly into the ground. The Atlases fired their medium-range lasers at Keith and Whitfield, causing their HUD damage displays to light up in orange around the torso sections.

Meanwhile, Taylor's efforts succeeded in causing one of their reactors to go critical; Whitfield concentrated intensely on finishing another off in this manner before their heavy autocannons could come close enough to rip anybody to shreds. Shortly after Taylor blew the reactor of one, Whitfield blew the reactor of another, resulting in two spectacular fireballs that happened to burn off a bit of the survivors' armor.

But the two surviving Atlases would not survive for long; barely enough to fire more lasers and missiles at Whitfield and Keith, damaging their 'Mechs some more, causing their damage displays to go from orange to red in places. However, as with the Maulers, these two were quickly slagged to nearly nothing by two broadsides of blue streaks and a hail of pulse laser fire.

Whitfield and Keith unleashed Alpha Strikes in unison to finish off the enemy, felling the last two behemoths. And they took in deep breaths of relief.
Taylor breathed out a sigh as the guns fell silent. That's that for this one. Now to free the city...

He felt a little more respect for Keith as this time, none of the mechwarriors were killed in this battle. Damaged, yes, killed, no.

Technically, I should post this under Free Woody Thoughts, but I'm too lazy to log out and log back in.

Keith looked at his 'Mech's chronometer, noting that it was just before three in the morning, and figuring the Admiral wouldn't be up quite yet. He would have a little bit of time to secure the city before delivering the news.

"We move into the city." Keith toggled through the allied units on his scopes, to find someone relatively undamaged to lead the formation, just in case. "Major Taylor, take point. Specialist Burgen, you may retreat to our forward base for medical treatment, if you so desire."

After giving these orders, he contacted the forward base itself, and gave orders to find the enemy pilots who ejected.

The unit would find nearly no resistance inside the city, primarily only enemy logistical personnel who knew their unit was just handily defeated, and figured that while the Dark Lord might kill them, they *might* be shown mercy by the capturing forces. At worst, they would die either way, and they had little with which to fight, but most surrendered, for they were simply indoctrinated and not fully mindraped. However, a few of the enemy would insist on firing sidearms, for what little it was worth, and some infantry in the city forced civilians at blasterpoint to wear their uniforms and wander the streets, staying within visual range of the blackmailer, lest they get shot for going too far.

It was here that Taylor would face the first test of what Whitfield warned him about.

However, by and large, Rejaf, a city of some seven and a half million, would be spared the fate of Isokepe.

Technically, I should post this under Free Woody Thoughts, but I'm too lazy to log out and log back in.

Keith looked at his 'Mech's chronometer, noting that it was just before three in the morning, and figuring the Admiral wouldn't be up quite yet. He would have a little bit of time to secure the city before delivering the news.

"We move into the city." Keith toggled through the allied units on his scopes, to find someone relatively undamaged to lead the formation, just in case. "Major Taylor, take point. Specialist Burgen, you may retreat to our forward base for medical treatment, if you so desire."

After giving these orders, he contacted the forward base itself, and gave orders to find the enemy pilots who ejected.
The one LAAT who decided to just screw it and hang around the crew until it was filled with passive prisoners floated off to find the enemy pilots, while the Specialist fell back to get a checkup at the forward base.

The unit would find nearly no resistance inside the city, primarily only enemy logistical personnel who knew their unit was just handily defeated, and figured that while the Dark Lord might kill them, they *might* be shown mercy by the capturing forces. At worst, they would die either way, and they had little with which to fight, but most surrendered, for they were simply indoctrinated and not fully mindraped. However, a few of the enemy would insist on firing sidearms, for what little it was worth, and some infantry in the city forced civilians at blasterpoint to wear their uniforms and wander the streets, staying within visual range of the blackmailer, lest they get shot for going too far.

It was here that Taylor would face the first test of what Whitfield warned him about.

However, by and large, Rejaf, a city of some seven and a half million, would be spared the fate of Isokepe.
Hmm. This mech seems pretty overkill now, even for me... Taylor frowned as he saw the infantry uselessly pitter-patter his mech with small-arms fire. "Vance, Hitomi, take point. I'm going in."

"Yes, sir." They replied and used a bit of laser fire to keep the enemy away while Taylor removed his helmet and teleported out of the mech and used his Jedi skills to reflect incoming blaster fire. In the Force, he noticed that most of the 'infantry' were merely fearful civilians used as shields and moved to intecept bolts as he ordered them to run. As for the infantry themselves, they were either taken down by reflected bolts or telekinesis or a bit of fire.

Jedi Whitfield likewise used the Force to discern military from civilian, and fired at those who held certain, undisputable loyalties to the Dark Lord with his pulse lasers for a moment, watching Taylor fight with his lightsaber, telling the 'infantry' made to wear uniforms against their will to leave. Nevertheless, most were too afraid to leave the battlefield, and those few that did run were quickly cut down by those who had held them in bondage. The others still stood there.

Hmm, Taylor has gained calm in the last month, patience, and restraint. Nevertheless, it would take Taylor a long time indeed to secure the entire city in this manner.

Therefore, Whitfield decided to at least secure the former enemy barracks for him. Come with me, Keith, for you must also learn how to adjudicate, how to administer justice when it is required.

But if I leave, I might be killed! Keith wasn't too happy about leaving the relative protection of his 'Mech to go set up a court system. The politician strikes again...

Whitfield removed his own biofeedback helmet, then climbed out of his 'Mech, using his lightsaber to deflect blaster bolts high into the air, deliberately choosing not to redirect them at enemies for the time being. As he approached Keith's 'Mech on foot, his spare lightsaber floated up in the air, to provide cover from blaster fire for Keith as he climbed out of his 'Mech. Do not concern yourself with such things. Let go and concern yourself with the Force instead.

Yes...Master. Keith reluctantly climbed out of his own 'Mech, and the two walked together towards the enemy barracks, where enemies held about a hundred civilians in bondage, trying to trick the Coredians into killing them, Whitfield deflecting blaster bolts along the way.

As the two entered the barracks, a room full of "troops" opened fire on Whitfield, who stood in front of Keith at this point, for obvious reasons. Whitfield used the Force to discern the fifteen or so blackmailed civilians, who feared death if they failed to fire at the Jedi as much, if not more than, death at the hands of the Jedi, from the three military personnel who had enslaved them.

Thus, even as he deflected blaster bolts into the ceiling, he called out the three. "Lieutenant Domalgowski and Sergeants Ipereac and Oyozin, you are hereby taken as prisoners of war. You can expect to face trial on charges of blackmail, unauthorized conscription, and enslavement after the war ends. For now, you will be transferred to Coredian Military Police as soon as they arrive, and extradition will be handled later." Whitfield disarmed the three using the Force to pull their weapons away from him.

The civilians looked on in shock, not knowing what to do. Whitfield therefore continued, "Those of you who are blackmailed civilians, you are free to either go or stay, though I warn you that a battle for the city is going on outside. Before you go, however, I need to record your names, lest you be called to testify as a witness at their trials."

The civilians gave their names, and Whitfield nodded as he 'recorded' them in his Jedi-enhanced, pretty much photographic memory, the same memory that had served him well as a politician. He could produce a written record later.

As Whitfield took down the names of the civilians, the captured lieutenant tried to create chaos by attacking one of the civilians by hand. Keith instinctively intercepted the punch with his iron grip, and shoved the lieutenant up against the wall so hard that he fell on his face when his body bounced off of it.

"Who the hell are you?" the captured lieutenant asked, looking up nervously.

"I am a commissioned officer in the Evil Woody Thoughts Army, and one that outranks you by a considerable margin," Keith replied curtly, not happy with the lieutenant's actions at all. "Lieutenant Colonel Allaire, to be exact."

"But your commission would be revoked, because you are an insurrectionist."

Keith recalled the intrusive survey from two months ago in his mind, the one where he had left the questions he deemed unconstitutional blank. "I upheld the oath of my commission, the oath to protect and defend the Constitution of Evil Woody Thoughts against all enemies, foreign and domestic." He paused. "You didn't."

At this, the captured lieutenant finally put his hands up, instructing the two sergeants under his command to do the same.

Whitfield gave a vaguely approving nod to Keith. A natural diplomat he was not, but he had gotten the point, and in times like this, an ability to be blunt was necessary. A little rough around the edges, yes, but Whitfield did not find Keith's actions disproportionate to the threat. The two proceeded to free the other civilians held in the barracks.

He would learn, the same as Taylor.

After smacking a mop into the face of yet another Dark Lord minion, Taylor finished off his section of the stragglers, while those in the mechs did what they could to defeat the enemy, but without the discernation of the Force, they did accidently kill a few innocent persons. Such is the wages of war.

Then, Taylor came by a hostage situation.

"Don't move any closer, Jedi, or else I shoot!" A minion yelled wildly, pointing a blaster at sobbing civilians. "Shut your traps!"

Hmm...what should I do? Taylor asked himself as the volatile situation unfolded. "Let them go." He answered quietly.

"Hmm...how about you drop that fancy flashlight of yours and I'll think about it." The minion cackled.

Taylor smirked inwardly. "Very well." He made a big show of dropping his lightsaber.

The minion intently watched the lightsaber drop to the snow and then made a decision. "Foolish..." His blaster primed to fire and patrons began to scream...

Taylor shifted movement...

...and a kunai -knife with a loop at one end- was embedded in the man's throat, cutting him off from shooting. Tough justice.

Taylor turned to the civilians, who barely knew what just happened. "You'll no longer be harmed today. Go to your homes."

The civvies just nodded fearfully and walked away quickly. Taylor picked up his lightsaber and headed over to the dead man.

"A Jedi is never without a weapon..." He commented to the corpse and pulled out his kunai. He walked towards Whitfield and the others, continuing to make his rounds and ensure that there are no other enemies around.

As Taylor killed more of the enemy, whilst making sure that he was, in fact, killing the enemy and not someone else, Whitfield continued his little diplomacy lessons with Keith. By the time the trio met up, Taylor could see that a separate transport would be needed to move all the prisoners of war to a place where they could be processed.

Keith rolled his eyes as he commented on the situation. "I think this one is trying to make me a judge or something," he said dryly, motioning to the former politician. "I'm gonna have to talk with the Admiral just to find a proper facility for all these people."

"You might want to help him figure out how to deal with incendaries already in the cities as well." Taylor pointed out. "The Marines don't have the benefit of Fire Jedi to stop or slow the fires that will break out..."

The Lieutenant Colonel thought for a moment. "Even those under the Dark Lord would rather live than die. Problem is, they are brainwashed into believing that if they fail, they will die, either at the hands of the Dark Lord or the hands of his enemies, depending on the circumstances.

If they believe they will die either way, they will take as many of what they believe to be their enemy with them. This is what happened to the Fifth and Sixth Fleets, when individual ships' shields started to fail. Their captains thought they were as good as dead, so they rammed well before your fleet admirals expected.

This is what happened at Babuyanest.

This is what happened at Isokepe.

Such action in the face of certain death is part of our tactical doctrine, but the Dark Lord has perverted it for his own ends.

The enemy must be drawn from the fuses they would have to detonate. The Admiral must force the enemy infantry to leave the city. Unfortunately, the hit-and-run traps that I've used so far will not work on infantry, for they are too slow to pursue."

Keith let out a heavy sigh. "Eheayana, the City of the Steppe, must be blockaded. It is the only way. Enter, and off go the torches. The enemy will take great glee in killing off your armies and accomplishing their objective of mass civilian slaughter in one fell swoop. A blockade will draw out the infantry in a day or so. Do not fire on the city, or the fires shall rage; wait outside of it, and make it perfectly clear that we will not do that which the enemy wishes for us to do.

Most of the city can be saved, but I unfortunately do not see how all of it can be saved, given the circumstances.

Use Star Destroyer recon instead of scouts whenever possible.

I wish I could come up with a better plan. But I can't at the moment. I will, however, think about it."

What melancholy thoughts. By now, the Lieutenant Colonel wore a sullen look on his face. Such is war.

This guy seems to know his shit... Taylor thought. "Well, guess it's time to report in to the Admiral about this."

"Yeah, it is time. I'll send him a transmission." Keith retreated to make said transmission.

He spent a few minutes writing a note, then encrypted it and sent it on its way. Admiral Basque would see it at sunrise at the latest.

ENCRYPTION 230TOR43Q

TO: ADMIRAL BASQUE
FROM: LIEUTENANT COLONEL KEITH ALLAIRE
SUBJECT: THE PROMISED MORNING NEWS

THE CITY OF REJAF IS NOW FREE OF ENEMY INFLUENCE. ALL FIVE
LANCES OF 'MECHS THAT DEFENDED REJAF ARE DESTROYED, WITH NO
ALLIED LOSSES AND ONLY ONE COMBAT INJURY. KNOWN CIVILIAN
CASUALTIES ARE 284, AS OF THIS TRANSMISSION. UNFORTUNATELY, THE
ENEMY FORCED CIVILIANS TO WEAR MILITARY UNIFORMS AT BLASTERPOINT,
AND SOME OF US COULD NOT TELL THE DIFFERENCE UNTIL IT WAS TOO
LATE.

WE HAVE MANY, MANY PRISONERS OF WAR, AND WILL NEED A REASONABLY
LARGE TRANSPORT TO DELIVER THEM UP TO YOUR MILITARY POLICE. JEDI
WHITFIELD ENSURED THIS, AND WANTS THE PRISONERS EXTRADITED FOR
TRIAL WHEN EVIL WOODY THOUGHTS REINSTATES ITS OLD LEGAL SYSTEM.

I HAVE FURTHER REQUESTS, AND COUNSEL, THAT I WISH TO DISCUSS WITH
YOU. MY COMPANY WILL SPEND THE DAY UNDERGOING HEAVY REPAIR AND
WEAPONS REFIT. PLEASE CONTACT ME ON COMMLINK AT YOUR LEISURE.

<<END TRANSMISSION>>

After sending the transmission, Keith gave orders for weapons to be stripped off of the fallen lance of Timber Wolves, some thirty kilometers away, for he knew that certain parties to the recent battle needed weapon refits. While he gave salvage orders, he also ordered unejected ammo pilfered from fallen long-range missile racks of the Atlases and the light gauss rifles found on the Maulers, just in case.

He then pulled out his datapad, referencing the Star Destroyer's reconaissance of Rejaf, looking for a 'Mech Repair Bay so he wouldn't have to tax the supplies of his Mobile Field Base for today's heavy repairs.

OOC: I will be able to post occasionally on this thread up to 20 December. After this point, I will be away from the Internet(s), and this RP will be paused until on or about 16 January. I will complete this RP after that time.

OOC: All right.

IC:
The Admiral recieved the message shortly before dawn and then grunted. All right. Let's see what he has to say.

He turned to a lower officer. "Have a couple of transports ready to pick up prisoners. I'll be in my statesroom."

"Aye, sir." The officer saluted and moved off to execute the orders.

The Admiral headed to his room and pulled out a large pad and a pen. Then he dialed his comlink to the mechwarriors...

Too lazy for the puppeteering. Consider this Free Woody Thoughts.

As the sun rose, Keith heard his commlink beep. Right about when I had expected...

He knew who was on the other end, but he nonetheless decided to let the Admiral initiate the...conversation. He didn't want to seem too pushy to such a high-ranking military official, especially one from another nation. "Lieutenant Colonel Allaire here."

"Admiral Basque here. I've recieved your message. It's about Isokepe, right?"

"Mostly. The requests I alluded to have little to do with Isokepe. The counsel does. Which would you rather hear first?"

"The good news." The Admiral replied.

"The good news." The Admiral replied.

"The good news: Rejaf is liberated with a minimum of casualties. None of our 'Mechs were destroyed, but we have destroyed about a third of enemy 'Mechs on Woodyeen Island in return. Our only casualties: one pilot with minor injuries. Unfortunately, the enemy managed to kill about three hundred civilians whilst we entered, but the city's infrastructure is completely intact.

Now, our requests. We are now at the end of the peninsula, and in a position to go either north or south. Or west. No matter which way we turn, the enemy will be able to wreak havoc on our rears. We therefore will need Star Destroyer cover for a couple of days, while we swing south and march on Sevenaia.

We request orbital bombardment of the two military installations south of our position, data on enemy positions therein, and most importantly of all, a watch of the prairie between our current position and Batangas Bay. We will need more orbital bombardment of any military convoys moving across said prairie to cover our rear position.

Now onto the bad news: I will tell you the same thing I told Major Masaki earlier. The exact same thing, for that matter, because I have a damn good memory. You let the enemy lure you into the city, when it should have been the other way around.

And now, the next closest city to your position is one with fifteen times the population. And, in the context of the orders that we both know were given to the enemy, you're gonna have to deal with the exact same setup."

Keith sighed as he thought of how the Dark Lord had twisted the military that he was commissioned to serve as of late. "Even those under the Dark Lord would rather live than die. Problem is, they are brainwashed into believing that if they fail, they will die, either at the hands of the Dark Lord or the hands of his enemies, depending on the circumstances.

If they believe they will die either way, they will take as many of what they believe to be their enemy with them. This is what happened to the Fifth and Sixth Fleets, when individual ships' shields started to fail. Their captains thought they were as good as dead, so they rammed well before your fleet admirals expected.

This is what happened at Babuyanest.

This is what happened at Isokepe.

Such action in the face of certain death is part of our tactical doctrine, but the Dark Lord has perverted it for his own ends.

The enemy must be drawn from the fuses they would have to detonate. The Admiral must force the enemy infantry to leave the city. Unfortunately, the hit-and-run traps that I've used so far will not work on infantry, for they are too slow to pursue."

Another heavy sigh. "Eheayana, the City of the Steppe, must be blockaded. It is the only way. Enter, and off go the torches. The enemy will take great glee in killing off your armies and accomplishing their objective of mass civilian slaughter in one fell swoop. A blockade will draw out the infantry in a day or so. Do not fire on the city, or the fires shall rage; wait outside of it, and make it perfectly clear that we will not do that which the enemy wishes for us to do.

Most of the city can be saved, but I unfortunately do not see how all of it can be saved, given the circumstances.

Use Star Destroyer recon instead of scouts whenever possible.

I wish I could come up with a better plan. But given the enemy's orders, and their proven willingness to execute those orders, I simply don't see what else can be done."

The Admiral's mind was churning once he heard the reports and suggestions. "I thought as much. Hopefully, this time, we can succeed where we haven't before. Let us learn from this, and finally free this island from the dark forces. I have work to do, so I'll leave you with this: May the Force be with you and the Mechwarriors."

After that, the Admiral ordered the Star Destroyer to get busy. It was ordered to take scans of the City of the Steppes, maintain constant surveillence of the prairie in the center and then executed scans on the cities to the south of the Mechwarriors' position, and begin bombardment of the bases to the south. The Star Destroyer will most certainly be busy today...

"Yes, Admiral." Keith shut off his commlink, then prepared for logistical fun, even while the rest of the unit could enjoy some much-needed rest and relaxation.

While none of the unit's 'Mechs were destroyed in the battle, a few of their weapons had met their destruction, and the young Lieutenant Colonel was the only person in the unit who knew how to mount new weapons. Fortunately, the very weapons that required replacement could be salvaged from the fallen enemy Timber Wolves; otherwise, Keith would have another headache to deal with--weight and balance calculations associated with changing a 'Mech's weapons payload. The Coredians would learn about these requirements, too, but Keith really didn't want to deal with this lesson now, so the day this would come was not this day.

While he waited on the arrival of salvaged equipment, Whitfield had more lessons for him, this time, on meditation and levitation of objects through the Force. The two conducted these lessons in private, unlike the lightsaber drill done before Taylor the night before.

However, when the weapons salvage arrived, Keith stripped the destroyed particle projector cannons and taught the Coredian technicians how to mount new weapons.

After the destroyed weapons were replaced, Keith piloted the units' mecha, one by one, into the 'Mech repair bay he had found on recon photos, for armor repairs. After this, he knew he must rest...

He convened his unit. "We move on Sablayan, to the southwest, in five hours." He would nap for three, then chat with Whitfield and possibly Taylor for the fourth, to ascertain exactly how their nicknames of "Fire Knights" could be applied to the mission. He had a feeling that whatever their abilities were, they would be incredibly useful. The Lieutenant Colonel would spend the fifth hour planning for the mission.

Before napping, he sent another transmission to the Admiral, requesting 1630 (local time) recon data from the Star Destroyer for the area in and around Sablayan.

Meanwhile, turbolasers from said Star Destroyers rained down upon two abandoned military installations in the western mountains, detonating little but mines. Iglit Baco and Sablayan Military Installations would be nothing but black, smoking topsoil by the time Keith woke up.

The Star Destroyer first scanned the City of the Steppes for the Admiral to dictate battle plans to the field commanders which, with the Lt. Colonel's warnings, will hopefully prevent the kind of debacle that occurred at Isokepe. At about the same time the mechwarriors will move out, so will the Marines head out to begin the blockade.

Then when the time was right, the Destroyer began scans of Sablayan for the mechwarriors...

The Star Destroyer first scanned the City of the Steppes for the Admiral to dictate battle plans to the field commanders which, with the Lt. Colonel's warnings, will hopefully prevent the kind of debacle that occurred at Isopeke. At about the same time the mechwarriors will move out, so will the Marines head out to begin the blockade.

Then when the time was right, the Destroyer began scans of Sablayan for the mechwarriors...

Isokepe, not Isopeke.

When Keith woke up from his nap, he found Whitfield. "Hey, I think I'm gonna need some help from the politician," he said groggily. "I need to know just why you and Taylor are known as the Fire Knights."

"Because we have learned how to use the Force to both start and prevent fires," Whitfield answered matter-of-factly.

"Hmm...in light of Isokepe...interesting. Get Taylor over here, because the two of you are going to prove it. You might end up doing things other than blowing up enemy 'Mechs."

"Yes, Colonel, I'm sure Taylor won't be hard to find." Whitfield left to get him.

As it is, Taylor was quite easy to find as he was in the middle of a Force-conversation with his twin brother Jacob. When Whitfield came to him, he said good bye and closed down the link. "What's up?"

"Did I interrupt something? I apologize, but the Lieutenant Colonel wishes to see the both of us. I suspect he wishes to gather more information on our, er, specialties, because he thinks said specialties will be of use in Sablayan," Whitfield answered.

Meanwhile, unknown to the two of them, Keith started preparing some of his own incendiary devices. He wanted to test the abilities of the two Jedi, outside of the city.

"That brings new meaning to fighting fire with fire." Taylor commented wryly as he got up and headed towards Keith with Whitfield.

As Keith saw the two Jedi come, he finished packaging the several "presents" he had prepared for them in his toolbox. "Get in your 'Mechs. We go outside of the city, for some ordinance testing. Quickly, 'cause I got a mission to plan as well."

As Keith saw the two Jedi come, he finished packaging the several "presents" he had prepared for them in his toolbox. "Get in your 'Mechs. We go outside of the city, for some ordinance testing. Quickly, 'cause I got a mission to plan as well."
"Don't tell me, you're going to blow up those incendaries and we gotta stop the fire..." Taylor said as he headed to his mech.

Keith grinned outwardly, while cursing Taylor for reading his mind inwardly. Or making inferences he didn't want Taylor to make yet; he couldn't really tell, and this pissed him off greatly. "Well, Whitfield said you could do that, as could he. This might be useful, but I want you to prove it first. You have objections, blame the politician, because he was the one who told me about this. Now, stop digging around in my mind for things that are none of your business yet."

Cough, Whitfield, defenses against mindrapes, cough. Keith was none too happy about Taylor reading his mind.

Yes, I'll get to that when the time comes...but Taylor isn't anything like the Dark Lord.

Keith climbed into his own 'Mech and led the two Jedi to a point about fifteen kilometers away from the outskirts of Rejaf. He grinned as he climbed down the rungs on his 'Mech, "toolkit" in hand. After putting on chemical weapons gloves, he extracted a homemade round of 'shake-and-bake,' as he called it, lit the fuse, and threw it a few hundred feet east, away from the city.

As the round caught fire in midair, Whitfield used the Force to absorb the energy therein, hardly batting an eye as he stifled molecular motion within the incendiary round enough to bring it within a few degrees of absolute zero. The round shattered as it hit the ground, brittle from the sudden and drastic temperature change, and inert.

"Now, Taylor, your turn to prove it." Keith extracted another round, lighting the fuse before throwing it in the same general direction.

Like Whitfield, Taylor had the capability of utilizing cryokinetic as well as pyrokinetic abilities, and encased the round in a blue-white light so cold, it froze hydrogen solid. The round too shattered when it hit the ground.

"Can you do that to about fifty or a hundred rounds at once, in combat?" Keith asked the two Jedi. "I only have so much time to brew rounds before we have to go, you know..."

Whitfield knew he could handle multiple targets at a time, but because he had never before needed to use his cryokinetic abilities across an entire city on the scale Keith alluded to, he deferred to Taylor to answer the question.

"I have a high-level freezing spell in my arsenal, but it's too area-effect for a city." Taylor shook his head. "Though if I use smaller levels...but really, I'd need to know the general location of the incendaries before I could chill them. Could be done, but under combat conditions...very tough."

Whitfield thought about Taylor's words for a moment. "Taylor, if you pay enough attention, the Force will tell you where the incendiaries are. Especially once the fuse is lit, but even before then. I found that chemweapon convoy when it was still an hour or more from the Rejaf city limits, because I was concentrating on using the Force for scouting.

But finding hundreds of charges and flash-freezing them under live combat...I have never attempted anything on that scale, nor have I needed to." As if to encourage Taylor, the politician added, "It would make for an interesting challenge."

Keith carefully considered their words, knowing that the hundred or so people under his command wouldn't be enough for the type of siege he had recommended to the Admiral, no matter how brilliant of a commander he was...

Taylor nodded in agreement, for once. "Yes, it would."

Then, the Star Destroyer's findings were beamed down to the mechwarrior's positions and to the Admiral's desk.

OOC:
Will of course need info on the Steppe City.

OOC: Info on Eheayana, City of the Steppe

To get a geographical idea of where it is, look on the map on page 23 of this thread; it's the really long, narrow city, running north-to-south, backed up on the western edge of the eastern mountain range. It's about sixty miles long and ten to fifteen miles wide.

Total population (including suburbs): approximately thirty million.

Most of the forces from the military bases in the western mountain range are concentrated here. Moreover, as Rejaf was the heavily-defended city that the Jedi had to deal with, Eheayana is the heavily defended city that the Admiral gets to deal with.

A lot of equipment, including some cruise missiles, was moved from the military bases about seventy miles west to the city, though said missiles will not be used like they were in your first northern attack. Their 'cluster bombs' will be the heads of civilians, though a minute proportion of total population, to try to draw your forces into the city where both the civvies and your army can go up in flame. Of course, you were told ICly to resist this temptation... Yes, I've had evil thoughts the last few days...:D

(Don't take this personally. You were warned ICly you wouldn't be able to save the entire city. I've talked with Godular OOCly, and he pretty much said the same thing.)

Garrison:

4 Timber Wolf IIICs
4 Atlases
4 Summoners
4 Mad Dogs (http://warhawkppc.tripod.com/mechbay/maddog.html) Warning: this is the same site that I tried to use about a week ago that froze my computer. At the time I used Firefox, now I'm using IE, that might be the difference. Assume all in the primary configuration.

About seventy ground assault vehicles (both light and heavy), including about thirty LRM carriers that will snipe at you from within the city if you're not careful. Fortunately, they don't have much armor. The heaviest mount PPCs, AC20s, and Gauss Rifles (to give you an idea, and no, no single tank has all three of these weapons--PPCs tend to be mounted in a pair on a single turret, AC20s singly, Gauss can be both paired or single mount).

Approximately 12,000 troops. You outnumber the city's defenders, I would assume, but your admiral is gonna have to come up with some real creative ways to deal with four lances, as I won't be around to IM. You could try IMing Godular; by now he should have an idea of the capabilities of what you're facing, and if he doesn't, you should have enough of an idea to tell him what said units are capable of.

Yeah, ICly, this will pretty much all show up on Star Destroyer recon...

The northern fringe of Eheayana is about, oh, a hundred fifty miles south of your current northern base.

The good news: Once Eheayana falls, the rest of it will be mop-up, other than of course, dealing with the Dark Lord's suicidal, chemical weapon wielding maniacs. Which, realistically, you only have to do for one more city after this, and depending on what happens, Keith might split up the Fire Knights to lend the Admiral a hand.

For those of you just reading, normally CoreWorlds and I would have just communicated this over IM, but I don't have access to it at the moment.

-----------------------------------

IC: "We need to head back." Keith sighed as he realized that the two Jedi didn't seem to know what they were and weren't capable of. This uncertainty is going to make planning that much more difficult...

After another couple of minutes, Keith's thoughts resulted in orders. "I don't care if you have to sacrifice accuracy or even retreat and shut down your 'Mechs; if taking out those incendiaries requires that much concentration, then so be it. We are, after all, dealing with a smaller mechanized force this time, and if need be, the six other pilots and I can take the enemy 'Mechs. We do have our priorities."

Nevertheless, it would take Keith longer than usual to plan this mission; he now expected a departure later than he had originally hoped.

OOC: Info on Eheayana, City of the Steppe

To get a geographical idea of where it is, look on the map on page 23 of this thread; it's the really long, narrow city, running north-to-south, backed up on the western edge of the eastern mountain range. It's about sixty miles long and ten to fifteen miles wide.

Total population (including suburbs): approximately thirty million.

Most of the forces from the military bases in the western mountain range are concentrated here. Moreover, as Rejaf was the heavily-defended city that the Jedi had to deal with, Eheayana is the heavily defended city that the Admiral gets to deal with.

A lot of equipment, including some cruise missiles, was moved from the military bases about seventy miles west to the city, though said missiles will not be used like they were in your first northern attack. Their 'cluster bombs' will be the heads of civilians, though a minute proportion of total population, to try to draw your forces into the city where both the civvies and your army can go up in flame. Of course, you were told ICly to resist this temptation... Yes, I've had evil thoughts the last few days...:D

(Don't take this personally. You were warned ICly you wouldn't be able to save the entire city. I've talked with Godular OOCly, and he pretty much said the same thing.)

Garrison:

4 Timber Wolf IIICs
4 Atlases
4 Summoners
4 Mad Dogs (http://warhawkppc.tripod.com/mechbay/maddog.html) Warning: this is the same site that I tried to use about a week ago that froze my computer. At the time I used Firefox, now I'm using IE, that might be the difference. Assume all in the primary configuration.

About seventy ground assault vehicles (both light and heavy), including about thirty LRM carriers that will snipe at you from within the city if you're not careful. Fortunately, they don't have much armor. The heaviest mount PPCs, AC20s, and Gauss Rifles (to give you an idea, and no, no single tank has all three of these weapons--PPCs tend to be mounted in a pair on a single turret, AC20s singly, Gauss can be both paired or single mount).

Approximately 12,000 troops. You outnumber the city's defenders, I would assume, but your admiral is gonna have to come up with some real creative ways to deal with four lances, as I won't be around to IM. You could try IMing Godular; by now he should have an idea of the capabilities of what you're facing, and if he doesn't, you should have enough of an idea to tell him what said units are capable of.

Yeah, ICly, this will pretty much all show up on Star Destroyer recon...

The northern fringe of Eheayana is about, oh, a hundred fifty miles south of your current northern base.

The good news: Once Eheayana falls, the rest of it will be mop-up, other than of course, dealing with the Dark Lord's suicidal, chemical weapon wielding maniacs. Which, realistically, you only have to do for one more city after this, and depending on what happens, Keith might split up the Fire Knights to lend the Admiral a hand.

For those of you just reading, normally CoreWorlds and I would have just communicated this over IM, but I don't have access to it at the moment.
When the Admiral retrieved the scans, he called in his divisional commanders and they began planning on how to deal with the four lances and the infantry. Everything they plan will have to involve the Star Destroyer in some way. In the meantime, the Marines prepared to move out and begin a siege several miles from the city. There, they'll try to lure the enemy out with hopefully tempting bait, then crush them.

-----------------------------------

IC: "We need to head back." Keith sighed as he realized that the two Jedi didn't seem to know what they were and weren't capable of. This uncertainty is going to make planning that much more difficult...

After another couple of minutes, Keith's thoughts resulted in orders. "I don't care if you have to sacrifice accuracy or even retreat and shut down your 'Mechs; if taking out those incendiaries requires that much concentration, then so be it. We are, after all, dealing with a smaller mechanized force this time, and if need be, the six other pilots and I can take the enemy 'Mechs. We do have our priorities."

Nevertheless, it would take Keith longer than usual to plan this mission; he now expected a departure later than he had originally hoped.
"You'll need to cover us while we concentrate on the incendiaries." Taylor answered as they headed back. "Best way I can think of to do this."

Did that website I linked to give you any problems?

"You'll need to cover us while we concentrate on the incendiaries." Taylor answered as they headed back. "Best way I can think of to do this."

"That won't be too difficult, if you can do it from the outskirts of the city. If you need more proximity to the incendiaries, it'll make things a bit more...interesting," Keith replied.

Whitfield thought about this for a few seconds. Taylor, I'll get the WP on the other side of the city, because I know how to find it before it blows up. You concentrate on that which you can find.

When the unit returned to Rejaf, Keith wasted no time in going over the Star Destroyer's recon data that lay on his desk. A lance of second-generation Shadow Cats and a lance of Hollander IIs, plus a few LRM carriers and the infantry cannon fodder. Yeah, I can cover this...

He devoted much attention to figuring out how to lure the mechanized units out without causing a premature detonation of the incendiaries. So far, it seemed coordination between enemy units hadn't been that great...

He estimated he could give Whitfield and Taylor about a minute and a half between the start of engagement and the time infantry started wising up and detonating the chemical weapons. Shit, I don't know if that'll be enough. I'll have to take down both lances within two minutes. Fortunately, their armor isn't great...

Once again, he swore under his breath because the two Jedi didn't know what they could and couldn't do. Well, they'll find out--it's the only way, because the minute I enter the city, it goes up in flame.

He started marking the position of enemy units on satellite photos of Sablayan...

"My Lord, orbital imagery has confirmed the destruction of the city that shall not be named." A young lieutenant handed Darth Ebolus a small datapad, from which he could access the images.

"Yes, I know," Ebolus said nonchalantly, as if being told the sun was risen. "That was fun. It should be done again."

"On the same city?" the lieutenant asked, somewhat surprised at this latest statement.

"No, on a different one. What other cities are problematic?"

"Last I checked, this entire system, with the exception of the city that shall not be named, is pacified."

"Meh. I guess I'll just have to get out the globe of White Diamond and pick a city at random, then. You are dismissed for now."

The Dark Lord left the lieutenant standing there, as he pondered which city should whet his appetite for destruction next.

White Diamond Prime

As Lieutenant Colonel Allaire, the former Wraith, prepared to move on Sablayan, and Admiral Basque prepared his siege of Eheayana, the Dark Lord came to a decision as to which city he would destroy next.

After meditating for hours, to sense concentrations of dissent, he decided to destroy another isolated city, a northern cold-water port that brought in supplies to an entire continent near White Diamond's north pole. A city where unsavory rumors regarding the Dark Lord circulated...

The Dark Lord would soon have its revenge upon Wesealia's uppity inhabitants. Moreover, he would ensure that said inhabitants would be forgotten, as had the inhabitants of Tblipsi...

One hour later
Wesealia
14,855 nautical miles north of Great Woody City

A single tectonic-payload missile left its Star Destroyer docking bay, bound for the city closest to White Diamond's north pole, on orders from the Dark Lord.

A short time later, the planet's polar ice cap cracked as Wesealia fell two hundred feet into the sea, never to be seen again. Its central skyscrapers survived the plunge, but as with Tblipsi, those inside would be left to die...

Clouds of ash rose from the polar cap as a new volcano formed just miles outside of the former city, melting millions of tons of ice with its hot ash, lava, and pyroclastic flows. Fortunately, what remained of the ice cap blunted the tsunami that should have resulted from the massive earthquake; nonetheless, White Diamond as a whole would probably be a degree or two warmer for the next few thousand years, with all of the fluctations in rainfall patterns and such that sudden warming would entail.

Moreover, an entire northern continent of some fifty million inhabitants would be left to slowly die as its only port for food shipments suddenly fell into the sea. Another fifty million forgotten, victims of the Dark Lord's rage...

While Keith planned the assault, Taylor made to figure out how to utilize his ice attacks on the incendiaries the moment they were to head to battle.

Hmm. How to do this without freezing solid the civvies. Taylor thought. I figure that concentrations of brainwashed infantry will have to do, then 'looking' around them. Then I freeze the chemicals I find...yeah.

-------

The Admiral thought of a plan. "The 'cats and 'wolves will set up an ambush point some miles from the city. Their objective will be to lure the enemy out to the zone by any means possible. The rest of the Marines will lay siege to the city to await infantry forces. As they will want us to enter the city proper, we will not give them the satisfaction of doing this, but lay outside of the city and wait them out."

"If they ignite their incendiary weapons anyway, move in swiftly to find as many survivors as possible." The Admiral ordered. "You have any questions?"

There were a couple, mostly where each battalion will go, and then the commanders broke to prepare to move out.

Soon, the Marine Corps deployed from the forward base towards Eheayana. Once they got within ten miles of the city, they began to execute the basic siege plans, laying out trenches and setting the animal mechs to ambush mode, acting like their counterparts in the wild.

Two Sabercats slowly headed towards the city, notified from the Star Destroyer of the patrols' locations...

OOC: The site gave me no problems and I love the kewl music.

While Keith planned the assault, Taylor made to figure out how to utilize his ice attacks on the incendiaries the moment they were to head to battle.

Hmm. How to do this without freezing solid the civvies. Taylor thought. I figure that concentrations of brainwashed infantry will have to do, then 'looking' around them. Then I freeze the chemicals I find...yeah.

Lieutenant Colonel Allaire finished his Order of Battle before convening the unit and disseminating it.

"OK, everyone, the good news is we're facing an enemy that has about a quarter of the strength the Rejaf garrison had.

The bad news is that this time, the enemy has a stash of chemical weapons to play with. Moreover, we do not have enough manpower to siege the city, as I recommended to the Admiral in his dealings with Eheayana. This means that Taylor and his politician friend will be quite busy.

They need their asses covered, which means that the rest of us will proceed about five klicks ahead of them, lure the 'Mech garrison, which consists of four Hollanders and four second-generation Shadow Cats, out of the city. We have a minute or two before the enemy starts nuking the city the way they did Isokepe, probably more if we can keep all of the combat out of the city.

While we're having fun with the enemy 'Mechs, the two Jedi over here get to flash-freeze the presents the enemy intends to leave for us, and save as much of the city as they can. If we can destroy the two enemy lances quickly enough, the infantry might not even know we're here. If not, the fate of the city largely rests upon the two Jedi, because we simply do not have the right types of units to lure slow, non-mechanized infantry out of the city.

The two Jedi will be assigned to two of the eighty-tonners. The rest will be assigned to the hundred twenty-tonners, except for one volunteer, because we have seven pilots and six of said 'Mechs. I'm volunteering myself to take point.

Unfortunately, dealing with known suicidal enemies presents complications. Any questions?"

The Admiral thought of a plan. "The 'cats and 'wolves will set up an ambush point some miles from the city. Their objective will be to lure the enemy out to the zone by any means possible. The rest of the Marines will lay siege to the city to await infantry forces. As they will want us to enter the city proper, we will not give them the satisfaction of doing this, but lay outside of the city and wait them out."

"If they ignite their incendiary weapons anyway, move in swiftly to find as many survivors as possible." The Admiral ordered. "You have any questions?"

There were a couple, mostly where each battalion will go, and then the commanders broke to prepare to move out.

Soon, the Marine Corps deployed from the forward base towards Eheayana. Once they got within ten miles of the city, they began to execute the basic siege plans, laying out trenches and setting the animal mechs to ambush mode, acting like their counterparts in the wild.

Two Sabercats slowly headed towards the city, notified from the Star Destroyer of the patrols' locations...

You still only have two Sabrecats, or did you get reinforcements?

As seismic sensors and mountain lookouts detected the forward Coredian units, the units on patrol around Eheayana quickly retreated at full throttle to within city limits, hoping to lure the enemy inside the city, where they could deliver their presents...

Lieutenant Colonel Allaire finished his Order of Battle before convening the unit and disseminating it.

"OK, everyone, the good news is we're facing an enemy that has about a quarter of the strength the Rejaf garrison had.

The bad news is that this time, the enemy has a stash of chemical weapons to play with. Moreover, we do not have enough manpower to siege the city, as I recommended to the Admiral in his dealings with Eheayana. This means that Taylor and his politician friend will be quite busy.

They need their asses covered, which means that the rest of us will proceed about five klicks ahead of them, lure the 'Mech garrison, which consists of four Hollanders and four second-generation Shadow Cats, out of the city. We have a minute or two before the enemy starts nuking the city the way they did Isokepe, probably more if we can keep all of the combat out of the city.

While we're having fun with the enemy 'Mechs, the two Jedi over here get to flash-freeze the presents the enemy intends to leave for us, and save as much of the city as they can. If we can destroy the two enemy lances quickly enough, the infantry might not even know we're here. If not, the fate of the city largely rests upon the two Jedi, because we simply do not have the right types of units to lure slow, non-mechanized infantry out of the city.

The two Jedi will be assigned to two of the eighty-tonners. The rest will be assigned to the hundred twenty-tonners, except for one volunteer, because we have seven pilots and six of said 'Mechs. I'm volunteering myself to take point.

Unfortunately, dealing with known suicidal enemies presents complications. Any questions?"
There were none and then everyone prepared to move out.


You still only have two Sabrecats, or did you get reinforcements?
OOC: They're taking point. I do have reinforcements.

As seismic sensors and mountain lookouts detected the forward Coredian units, the units on patrol around Eheayana quickly retreated at full throttle to within city limits, hoping to lure the enemy inside the city, where they could deliver their presents...
The two Sabercats crept closer to the city limits and then about a mile from the limits itself, scanned inward for targets and began pacing back and forth for several hundred meters and roaring tauntingly. They aren't going in any further as per orders.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Corps settled down in siege mode, waiting for the ambush to succeed and the infantry to come out and deal with the Coredians...

There were none and then everyone prepared to move out.

"Let's go, Sablayan is about a hundred fifty klicks to the southwest. The two Jedi get five klicks of cover. That's about an hour and a half."

As the unit moved out, Whitfield had a little reminder for Taylor. Use the Force to locate incendiaries far from your position. Lit fuses will give them away, and give you a few seconds to deal with them.

The two Sabercats crept closer to the city limits and then about a mile from the limits itself, scanned inward for targets and began pacing back and forth for several hundred meters and roaring tauntingly. They aren't going in any further as per orders.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Corps settled down in siege mode, waiting for the ambush to succeed and the infantry to come out and deal with the Coredians...

The general in charge of defending Eheayana, Brigadier General Ypsilanti, wasn't done with his attempts to lure the enemy inside. No soldier or civilian left Eheayana whilst the Coredians set up their siege positions. Instead, he had his own ideas for presents.

"Our enemy mourns their failure to save Isokepe from destruction," he told his underlings, half a smile crossing his face. "Let us ease their pain. Prepare nonexplosive clusters for the cruise missiles we have."

"Yes, sir." Shortly thereafter, the general's underlings started entering random peoples' homes, beheading everyone inside, and taking the heads back with them, so they could be used as cluster ammunition inside of cruise missile warheads with a few creative adaptations...

"Let's go, Sablayan is about a hundred fifty klicks to the southwest. The two Jedi get five klicks of cover. That's about an hour and a half."

As the unit moved out, Whitfield had a little reminder for Taylor. Use the Force to locate incendiaries far from your position. Lit fuses will give them away, and give you a few seconds to deal with them.
With Jedi, a few seconds is all that's needed. Taylor replied. Whitfield could sense the grin. In the meantime, the Mechwarriors were on the move...


The general in charge of defending Eheayana, Brigadier General Ypsilanti, wasn't done with his attempts to lure the enemy inside. No soldier or civilian left Eheayana whilst the Coredians set up their siege positions. Instead, he had his own ideas for presents.

"Our enemy mourns their failure to save Isokepe from destruction," he told his underlings, half a smile crossing his face. "Let us ease their pain. Prepare nonexplosive clusters for the cruise missiles we have."

"Yes, sir." Shortly thereafter, the general's underlings started entering random peoples' homes, beheading everyone inside, and taking the heads back with them, so they could be used as cluster ammunition inside of cruise missile warheads with a few creative adaptations...
The Marines, now almost complete setting up their siege positions, waited. The Sabercats roared taunts at the enemies. But no one moved forward to attack. No one stepped closer to the city.

With Jedi, a few seconds is all that's needed. Taylor replied. Whitfield could sense the grin. In the meantime, the Mechwarriors were on the move...

Taylor's smile was contagious, for it caused Whitfield's confidence in his ability to perform the mission as well, and in cases where the enemy used fear and intimidation, confidence was not necessarily a bad thing.

-------------------------------------------------

Ninety minutes later
2010 GMT -3
Five kilometers northeast of Sablayan

By now, Whitfield at least had his eyes closed, his mind in an advanced stage of meditation, his concentration focused on seeking out the enemy, and its weapons. He warned Keith when he found the enemy 'Mechs about twenty kilometers out, and Keith continued to plunge ahead, seeking to draw out the mechanized units defending the city. Whitfield continued to lag behind, allowing Keith and the Coredian pilots to give him cover for that which he needed to do.

As the first lance of enemy Shadow Cats left the city, followed only seconds later by the lance of Hollander IIs, Keith fired twin blue bolts of doom at the first Shadow Cat, killing its pilot instantaneously. There was a good reason why he had been ranked the fifth-best 'MechWarrior in the entire nation before the war; the four above him had been shot down by rebel anti-aircraft fire in Ebolus' initial invasion as their DropShips attempted to land.

Meanwhile, the three surviving Shadow Cats and the Hollander IIs returned fire, melting a bit of Keith's armor and shearing off a bit more. Shades of yellow flashed across his damage display. The gunnery skills of the other Coredian pilots would now be tested, for he lacked the fire support of the two Jedi, whom, despite their lack of specialized training in 'Mech ops, were at the very least, slightly faster gunners than he.

As the two sides exchanged the first shots of the battle, Whitfield used the Force to find the first incendiaries, as of yet, unlighted, and flash-freeze him, using the Force to also reveal to Taylor where his findings were. Two Fire Knights would be better than one.

The Marines, now almost complete setting up their siege positions, waited. The Sabercats roared taunts at the enemies. But no one moved forward to attack. No one stepped closer to the city.

About five hours later

"General Ypsilanti, we have replaced the cruise missiles' cluster warheads with...your custom warhead design." A young, indoctrinated lieutenant reported the status of Ypsilanti's technicians.

"Excellent. The time is come to ease their suffering and give the dead the proper memorial. Launch the dearly deceased."

"Yes, sir." A wide smile crossed the brainwashed lieutenant's face.

A few minutes later, approximately a hundred fifty cruise missiles launched from mobile launchers, racing for the enemy lines at slightly below treetop level. As they reached the enemy, they would release their "cluster" warheads, only said "clusters" consisted of a total of about two and a half thousand heads, including those of women and children.

Taylor's smile was contagious, for it caused Whitfield's confidence in his ability to perform the mission as well, and in cases where the enemy used fear and intimidation, confidence was not necessarily a bad thing.

-------------------------------------------------

Ninety minutes later
2010 GMT -3
Five kilometers northeast of Sablayan

By now, Whitfield at least had his eyes closed, his mind in an advanced stage of meditation, his concentration focused on seeking out the enemy, and its weapons. He warned Keith when he found the enemy 'Mechs about twenty kilometers out, and Keith continued to plunge ahead, seeking to draw out the mechanized units defending the city. Whitfield continued to lag behind, allowing Keith and the Coredian pilots to give him cover for that which he needed to do.

As the first lance of enemy Shadow Cats left the city, followed only seconds later by the lance of Hollander IIs, Keith fired twin blue bolts of doom at the first Shadow Cat, killing its pilot instantaneously. There was a good reason why he had been ranked the fifth-best 'MechWarrior in the entire nation before the war; the four above him had been shot down by rebel anti-aircraft fire in Ebolus' initial invasion as their DropShips attempted to land.

Meanwhile, the three surviving Shadow Cats and the Hollander IIs returned fire, melting a bit of Keith's armor and shearing off a bit more. Shades of yellow flashed across his damage display. The gunnery skills of the other Coredian pilots would now be tested, for he lacked the fire support of the two Jedi, whom, despite their lack of specialized training in 'Mech ops, were at the very least, slightly faster gunners than he.

As the two sides exchanged the first shots of the battle, Whitfield used the Force to find the first incendiaries, as of yet, unlighted, and flash-freeze him, using the Force to also reveal to Taylor where his findings were. Two Fire Knights would be better than one.
The Mechwarriors unleashed their fire to support the commanders, lashing out with PPCs and lasers while recieving damage in return. Taylor, with the help of Whitfield and the Force, also began freezing the incendiaries solid.

About five hours later

"General Ypsilanti, we have replaced the cruise missiles' cluster warheads with...your custom warhead design." A young, indoctrinated lieutenant reported the status of Ypsilanti's technicians.

"Excellent. The time is come to ease their suffering and give the dead the proper memorial. Launch the dearly deceased."

"Yes, sir." A wide smile crossed the brainwashed lieutenant's face.

A few minutes later, approximately a hundred fifty cruise missiles launched from mobile launchers, racing for the enemy lines at slightly below treetop level. As they reached the enemy, they would release their "cluster" warheads, only said "clusters" consisted of a total of about two and a half thousand heads, including those of women and children.
The siege wore on throughout the day and into the night. Then countermissile defenses lashed out at the cruise missiles, but several got through and the Marines ducked. But what occurred next fazed even the bravest ones.

Heads started falling, bonking several Marines on the head, and unnerved the rest. But as they saw the heads, anger boiled in their veins, and angry Marines meant more dead enemies. Only their commanders' orders to hold their positions restrained them.

But when they were let loose, the enemy will pay for the blood of the innocent. Oh, yes. They will pay most dearly...

But they waited. They restrained themselves from charging forward. And they waited.

The Mechwarriors unleashed their fire to support the commanders, lashing out with PPCs and lasers while recieving damage in return. Taylor, with the help of Whitfield and the Force, also began freezing the incendiaries solid.

As three of the lightly armored enemy force exploded in fireballs, and Keith sniped off the cockpit of another Shadow Cat, one of the enemy pilots radioed off a warning to detonate the presents. They would be unable to hold off the attackers, and would die before luring them into the city, and they knew it.

The remaining three Hollanders fired their main guns at Keith's 'Mech, but Keith successfully dodged two of the three Gauss Rifle rounds, letting the Force direct his manuevering, as taught by Whitfield. The third round glanced off his right arm, turning it to orange on his damage display, but his right arm PPC made it out intact.

Meanwhile, a thousand sparks, a thousand lit fuses, appeared in Sablayan, about a hundred every second, practically broadcasting their locations to the two intently focused Fire Knights. Whitfield frantically worked to flash-freeze the ones on the far side of the city, leaving the closest ones to Taylor, who appeared to rely at least partially upon Whitfield's more experienced senses for guidance.

The siege wore on throughout the day and into the night. Then countermissile defenses lashed out at the cruise missiles, but several got through and the Marines ducked. But what occurred next fazed even the bravest ones.

Heads started falling, bonking several Marines on the head, and unnerved the rest. But as they saw the heads, anger boiled in their veins, and angry Marines meant more dead enemies. Only their commanders' orders to hold their positions restrained them.

But when they were let loose, the enemy will pay for the blood of the innocent. Oh, yes. They will pay most dearly...

But they waited. They restrained themselves from charging forward. And they waited.

OOC: More like wearing on through the night and into the next morning, if the two attacks started around the same time. Anyway, I'll reply to this segment after the battle for Sablayan is finished, to even out the roleplay time discrepancies...

Whitfield and Keith will also need to talk to the Admiral before the second round is prepared.

As three of the lightly armored enemy force exploded in fireballs, and Keith sniped off the cockpit of another Shadow Cat, one of the enemy pilots radioed off a warning to detonate the presents. They would be unable to hold off the attackers, and would die before luring them into the city, and they knew it.

The remaining three Hollanders fired their main guns at Keith's 'Mech, but Keith successfully dodged two of the three Gauss Rifle rounds, letting the Force direct his manuevering, as taught by Whitfield. The third round glanced off his right arm, turning it to orange on his damage display, but his right arm PPC made it out intact.

Meanwhile, a thousand sparks, a thousand lit fuses, appeared in Sablayan, about a hundred every second, practically broadcasting their locations to the two intently focused Fire Knights. Whitfield frantically worked to flash-freeze the ones on the far side of the city, leaving the closest ones to Taylor, who appeared to rely at least partially upon Whitfield's more experienced senses for guidance.
Taylor 'saw' the flames spark to life and shut himself from what's happening outside to fully concentrate on the fuses. Whereever a fuse was, it was frozen to just a few degrees above absolute zero. If that was not enough, Taylor had a card up his sleeves to play...

The other Mechwarriors concentrated on the remaining Hollanders with their weapons.

OOC: More like wearing on through the night and into the next morning, if the two attacks started around the same time. Anyway, I'll reply to this segment after the battle for Sablayan is finished, to even out the roleplay time discrepancies...

Whitfield and Keith will also need to talk to the Admiral before the second round is prepared.
OOC: Good idea.

IC:
All through the night, the Marines took patrol shifts while they continued to wait for the enemy forces.

Taylor 'saw' the flames spark to life and shut himself from what's happening outside to fully concentrate on the fuses. Whereever a fuse was, it was frozen to just a few degrees above absolute zero. If that was not enough, Taylor had a card up his sleeves to play...

The other Mechwarriors concentrated on the remaining Hollanders with their weapons.

Another Gauss Rifle round struck Keith's armor, even as he dodged another pair of them, ripping off a chunk of armor but doing no other damage. The young commander responded by killing another enemy pilot with twin blue streaks of energy to the cockpit.

About a couple of seconds later, the other two exploded in fireballs as the six Coredian pilots sent another round of deadly fire into their reactors.

However, the city was by no means secure, for Keith knew all too well from Isokepe what lurked there. He reached for his commlink, and wasted no time in ordering, "Hold postion until we hear from the Jedi."

Meanwhile, Whitfield raced to flash-freeze more fuses. A few white phosphorus rounds managed to ignite, starting scattered fires throughout the city that only lasted for about a tenth of a second before the old but intensely concentrated Jedi used the Force to drain their energy off into the earth, ending their existence before they could blow up more than a room or three.

He could think of nothing else but freezing the incendiary rounds to render them inert, and Keith's communication to the rest of the unit did not even register in his mind...

Under Taylor's watch, a few fires managed to flare up despite his powers, but even so, they were choked off by icy winds that blew around to keep things cold. Nevertheless, fuses refused to start once Taylor's Force gaze swept the city like an icy angel, whatever incendiary it touched, it froze...

A few more fires started on the southern edge of Sablayan, away from the cold winds that Taylor blew through the north, but nothing on a scale greater than what the elder Jedi could handle with his own cryokinetic abilities.

As Taylor's windstorm reached the southern end of the city, it had some unintended side effects.

Fossil-fuel-burning power plants suddenly shut down as their boilers froze, plunging the city into darkness, for said boilers maintained temperatures nearly a thousand degrees Fahrenheit, hot enough to attract the notice of Taylor's blanket windstorm. Now, someone would have the added burden of restoring power to the city...

Meanwhile, Whitfield found himself cursing his nation's emphasis of geology research, again, for the ability to find and reach oil and gas deposits within a couple thousand feet of the earth's mantle had managed to delay the onset of large-scale renewable energy by a few decades, until after the nation reacted to the sudden wintry climate change that led her to seek the stars in the first place. Moreover, some fossil-fuel plants remained, and now, about a third of the city found itself without power.

Now, I'll have to teach Taylor that distinguishing between military and civilian applies to more than people themselves... Whitfield let out a sigh as he transmitted a message to the rest of the unit.

"All incendiaries accounted for, about fifty buildings destroyed, about a hundred fifty deaths, and a third of the city is without power because I'll have to talk to Taylor about the difference between chemical weapons and coal power plants."

"Acknowledged," came Keith's swift reply. "We now sweep the city, and deal with the infantry that survived the flash-freezing, though now they won't have their suicidal weapons."

Power plants? Uh...whoops...overkill much? Taylor felt sheepish and smacked himself in the face. Great...

Hiding smiles, the other Mechwarriors began sweeping the city for enemy infantry.

Power plants? Uh...whoops...overkill much? Taylor felt sheepish and smacked himself in the face. Great...

Hiding smiles, the other Mechwarriors began sweeping the city for enemy infantry.

Whitfield sensed Taylor's embarrassment quite easily. That just means that YOU'RE the one to restart the power plants. Which isn't done instantly, unless you want to break the equipment, which you might have done already, or worse, blow up the plant. I'll have to find those power plants on Keith's reconaissance shots, since the boilers are now pretty much the same temperature as everything else...

Meanwhile, as the seven forward 'MechWarriors entered the city, they would find the enemy pulling the same tricks they had in Rejaf--forcing civilians to wear military clothing and walk about right in front of the liberating forces, at blasterpoint. However, Keith's training in the Force, however elementary, would prove enough for him to sense the difference between fear and malice amongst those who roamed the streets in the cold; he fired his pulse lasers only at those whom he could be sure were really the enemy.

Lieutenant Colonel Allaire wasted no time in finding his comm. "A bit of a warning--the enemy is pulling the same shit with civvies that they did in Rejaf."

Whitfield sensed Taylor's embarrassment quite easily. That just means that YOU'RE the one to restart the power plants. Which isn't done instantly, unless you want to break the equipment, which you might have done already, or worse, blow up the plant. I'll have to find those power plants on Keith's reconaissance shots, since the boilers are now pretty much the same temperature as everything else...
Yes. Yes. I know. I'll fix it... Taylor felt like a small child berated by his father...which isn't a bad analogy considering Whitfield's experience.

Meanwhile, as the seven forward 'MechWarriors entered the city, they would find the enemy pulling the same tricks they had in Rejaf--forcing civilians to wear military clothing and walk about right in front of the liberating forces, at blasterpoint. However, Keith's training in the Force, however elementary, would prove enough for him to sense the difference between fear and malice amongst those who roamed the streets in the cold; he fired his pulse lasers only at those whom he could be sure were really the enemy.

Lieutenant Colonel Allaire wasted no time in finding his comm. "A bit of a warning--the enemy is pulling the same shit with civvies that they did in Rejaf."
"We know, sir." Sergeant Ross answered. "Problem is, we don't have fancy Force skills, only training."

She and the other mechs used their scopes extensively to check for weapons, and tried to discern which ones had weapons and which ones didn't. Children were fairly easy to discern, being smaller than everyone else, but older people were not, and so the soldiers had to double and triple check every enemy, which took a bit to do. When they were absolutely sure, that's when the pulse lasers let loose.

Yes. Yes. I know. I'll fix it... Taylor felt like a small child berated by his father...which isn't a bad analogy considering Whitfield's experience.

Yes, you will. Whitfield paused as Keith's warning came over his comm, then changed the subject. Of course, he also sensed a good deal of fear emanating from the city through the Force... We'll deal with this in a couple of hours, but for now, we have more urgent business.

As Whitfield rammed up his throttle to enter the city and help the others in sweeping it, he made his request of the unit commander. "Colonel, would it be possible to swipe a look at your Sablayan recon photos after we're done clearing the city? Taylor has some power plants to restart."

"Yes, Jedi Whitfield. Taylor had better restart them, 'cause we don't have enough technicians for operations on that scale within a reasonable period of time." Even from about seven kilometers away, both Whitfield and Taylor sensed that Keith wasn't too happy about Taylor's overkill, either.

"We know, sir." Sergeant Ross answered. "Problem is, we don't have fancy Force skills, only training."

She and the other mechs used their scopes extensively to check for weapons, and tried to discern which ones had weapons and which ones didn't. Children were fairly easy to discern, being smaller than everyone else, but older people were not, and so the soldiers had to double and triple check every enemy, which took a bit to do. When they were absolutely sure, that's when the pulse lasers let loose.

"Understood." Keith replied to Sergeant Ross, noting that those under his command were taking more precautions to avoid firing upon civilians than they had in Rejaf. Meanwhile, small arms fire splattered harmlessly across Keith's armor as he shot a few more enemy slave drivers...

The unit's more cautious stance regarding trigger fingers would cut civilian casualty rates about two-thirds from Rejaf, despite the Coredians' lack of ability to discern emotional cues that would help them in their efforts.

Yes, you will. Whitfield paused as Keith's warning came over his comm, then changed the subject. Of course, he also sensed a good deal of fear emanating from the city through the Force... We'll deal with this in a couple of hours, but for now, we have more urgent business.

As Whitfield rammed up his throttle to enter the city and help the others in sweeping it, he made his request of the unit commander. "Colonel, would it be possible to swipe a look at your Sablayan recon photos after we're done clearing the city? Taylor has some power plants to restart."

"Yes, Jedi Whitfield. Taylor had better restart them, 'cause we don't have enough technicians for operations on that scale within a reasonable period of time." Even from about seven kilometers away, both Whitfield and Taylor sensed that Keith wasn't too happy about Taylor's overkill, either.
"You're never going to let me live this down again, aren't you. I didn't even know there were coal plants still around!" Taylor grumbled as he prepared for a big, all-nighter job. And I'm not even that good of a mechanic!

"Understood." Keith replied to Sergeant Ross, noting that those under his command were taking more precautions to avoid firing upon civilians than they had in Rejaf. Meanwhile, small arms fire splattered harmlessly across Keith's armor as he shot a few more enemy slave drivers...

The unit's more cautious stance regarding trigger fingers would cut civilian casualty rates about two-thirds from Rejaf, despite the Coredians' lack of ability to discern emotional cues that would help them in their efforts.
Slowly, but surely, the enemy were being defeated by the Mechwarriors as they continued to sweep the streets of infantry forces...

"You're never going to let me live this down again, aren't you. I didn't even know there were coal plants still around!" Taylor grumbled as he prepared for a big, all-nighter job. And I'm not even that good of a mechanic!

Taylor might have a temper, but he sure can be funny... Jedi Whitfield let out a laugh at Taylor's last comment. Well, common sense would tell you that a nation that only acheived interstellar flight thirty years ago would still have some anachronistic technology floating around. Example that you would know about: you've seen the rebel naval fleet, recommissioned in the first days of said rebellion, and the main guns on their battleships still use some technology from World War II. And, if your technology can cause earthquakes at will, it sure as hell can extract coal, oil, and natural gas more cheaply than upgrading everything to the newest and shiniest. And I might let you live it down, once you fix the damage--just be thankful I'm not broadcasting this lecture over comm for the entire unit to hear.

Slowly, but surely, the enemy were being defeated by the Mechwarriors as they continued to sweep the streets of infantry forces...

A few minutes after Whitfield entered the city, the last resistance faded, and Keith turned his mind to the inevitable post-mission logistics. "Whitfield, you want those photos? They're back in Rejaf, you'll have to wait about two hours, meantime, you can deal with Taylor in whatever way pleases you."

"Yes, Colonel," came Whitfield's polite and automatic reply.

While the unit waited for its logistical support to arrive, Keith started turning his attention to where to conduct repairs. It appeared he would have to draw on the resources of the Mobile Field Base this time; fortunately, the unit had only suffered light damage...

Taylor might have a temper, but he sure can be funny... Jedi Whitfield let out a laugh at Taylor's last comment. Well, common sense would tell you that a nation that only acheived interstellar flight thirty years ago would still have some anachronistic technology floating around. Example that you would know about: you've seen the rebel naval fleet, recommissioned in the first days of said rebellion, and the main guns on their battleships still use some technology from World War II. And, if your technology can cause earthquakes at will, it sure as hell can extract coal, oil, and natural gas more cheaply than upgrading everything to the newest and shiniest. And I might let you live it down, once you fix the damage--just be thankful I'm not broadcasting this lecture over comm for the entire unit to hear.
Yes, I can be thankful for that, at least... Taylor sighed.


A few minutes after Whitfield entered the city, the last resistance faded, and Keith turned his mind to the inevitable post-mission logistics. "Whitfield, you want those photos? They're back in Rejaf, you'll have to wait about two hours, meantime, you can deal with Taylor in whatever way pleases you."

"Yes, Colonel," came Whitfield's polite and automatic reply.

While the unit waited for its logistical support to arrive, Keith started turning his attention to where to conduct repairs. It appeared he would have to draw on the resources of the Mobile Field Base this time; fortunately, the unit had only suffered light damage...
The Mechwarriors awaited the MFB as they chose who would get to conduct patrols.

As the unit waited for its logistical support, Keith directed everyone not including those on patrols and the Jedi to enjoy a few hours of downtime. Meanwhile, he quietly slipped Whitfield the aerial photographs of Sablayan he had requested.

Whitfield perused said map, looking for the civilian installations that Taylor had frozen. He dragged Taylor into a room where they could discuss the matter in private. "We have two coal plants, two oil plants, and six natural gas plants that need to be restarted," Whitfield told his younger counterpart. "Just be thankful that this city doesn't have an oil refinery, or you'd really be screwed. Get in your 'Mech, cause we'll spend all night just walking, otherwise."

As Whitfield and Taylor prepared to undo the collateral damage done by the latter, Lieutenant Colonel Allaire hailed the Admiral to find out about the progress of the siege...

Taylor sighed again and headed into his Mech to begin the undoing of his overkill.

-----

Admiral Basque recieved a call from the Colonel. "So you want an update on the siege? One word: Boredom. In other news, the enemy has sent the heads of the slain civilians bonking on our soldiers' heads in a close, but futile, attempt to get us to lash out at them. Otherwise, we're just waiting for them."

Taylor sighed again and headed into his Mech to begin the undoing of his overkill.

I probably should tell you that the engineers are going to be wondering why their equipment suddenly failed, and they're not going to be too happy that they can't figure out why... Whitfield left Taylor to ponder this thought as the two approached a coal-fired power plant in a powerless industrial area.

When the two disembarked from their 'Mechs and walked into the plant, it didn't take long for the swarm of angry, confused engineers to notice the new entrance, and their lightsabers. While they didn't know much about Jedi, they knew enough to figure that they were probably behind the unexplained equipment failure. Moreover, they were none too happy about it...

"You responsible for the freezing of our boilers?" one of the engineers demanded rudely and angrily.

Whitfield suppressed a grin, for he knew it was not appropriate for the situation. As a father would make his son confess to wrongdoing in front of the wronged party, he answered, "Perhaps you should ask my companion."

Admiral Basque recieved a call from the Colonel. "So you want an update on the siege? One word: Boredom. In other news, the enemy has sent the heads of the slain civilians bonking on our soldiers' heads in a close, but futile, attempt to get us to lash out at them. Otherwise, we're just waiting for them."

Keith nodded. "I tell you, there will be more, and you must resist the temptation to enter, lest the slaughter multiply a thousandfold in scale." Instinctively, he knew that officers would have had to suppress anger amongst the rank-and-file; perhaps this knowledge came from the Force, perhaps from his own experience as a commander, probably both.

Even as he said this, Brigadier General Ypsilanti, noting that his attempt to inflame the enemy into prematurely attacking, gave orders for a second round to be prepared...

I probably should tell you that the engineers are going to be wondering why their equipment suddenly failed, and they're not going to be too happy that they can't figure out why... Whitfield left Taylor to ponder this thought as the two approached a coal-fired power plant in a powerless industrial area.

When the two disembarked from their 'Mechs and walked into the plant, it didn't take long for the swarm of angry, confused engineers to notice the new entrance, and their lightsabers. While they didn't know much about Jedi, they knew enough to figure that they were probably behind the unexplained equipment failure. Moreover, they were none too happy about it...

"You responsible for the freezing of our boilers?" one of the engineers demanded rudely and angrily.

Whitfield suppressed a grin, for he knew it was not appropriate for the situation. As a father would make his son confess to wrongdoing in front of the wronged party, he answered, "Perhaps you should ask my companion."
"Just tell me where the boilers are and we can get this over with." Taylor said curtly. "Yes, I did it, and yes, it was a mistake."


Keith nodded. "I tell you, there will be more, and you must resist the temptation to enter, lest the slaughter multiply a thousandfold in scale." Instinctively, he knew that officers would have had to suppress anger amongst the rank-and-file; perhaps this knowledge came from the Force, perhaps from his own experience as a commander, probably both.

Even as he said this, Brigadier General Ypsilanti, noting that his attempt to inflame the enemy into prematurely attacking, gave orders for a second round to be prepared...
"I know that. We'll just have to keep up the waiting game." The Admiral sighed.

Consider this Free Woody Thoughts--I thought I was logged in as FWT. Apparently not.

"Just tell me where the boilers are and we can get this over with." Taylor said curtly. "Yes, I did it, and yes, it was a mistake."

"Feh," the engineer grumbled, now even more pissed off at Taylor's attitude. "We got twenty boilers over here, and if you can't fix 'em, you pay to replace 'em. Got that?"

The engineer showed the two Jedi where said boilers were located; they were caked in ice, and of course, it would take a while to thaw them conventionally enough to restart them. Which is why Taylor needed to make his penance...

Keep it to about five degrees Celsius per minute, or you could get a nasty explosion, and you would be held liable for replacing the equipment legally, and I don't think the rest of your family would be too happy about that. The good news: you can reheat more than one boiler at once.

"I know that. We'll just have to keep up the waiting game." The Admiral sighed.

"Understood, Admiral. We plan to move back up to the southern end of Batangas Bay tomorrow. We would appreciate more recon from the Star Destroyer in about twelve hours. I was just checking in, out."

Consider this Free Woody Thoughts--I thought I was logged in as FWT. Apparently not.



"Feh," the engineer grumbled, now even more pissed off at Taylor's attitude. "We got twenty boilers over here, and if you can't fix 'em, you pay to replace 'em. Got that?"

The engineer showed the two Jedi where said boilers were located; they were caked in ice, and of course, it would take a while to thaw them conventionally enough to restart them. Which is why Taylor needed to make his penance...

Keep it to about five degrees Celsius per minute, or you could get a nasty explosion, and you would be held liable for replacing the equipment legally, and I don't think the rest of your family would be too happy about that. The good news: you can reheat more than one boiler at once.
Taylor nodded. All right...there's twenty boilers and you need to raise their temperatures slowly...I got it! I shall heat up the entire room and let convection take care of the rest.

Taylor drew the Force around him and slowly increased the temperature of the boiler room five degrees C every minute as instructed by Whitfield. He watched the temperature carefully to make sure he's not raising the temperature too fast.

"Understood, Admiral. We plan to move back up to the southern end of Batangas Bay tomorrow. We would appreciate more recon from the Star Destroyer in about twelve hours. I was just checking in, out."
"Right." The Admiral sighed. Now to continue with the siege...

For the next fifteen minutes, ice dripped off the boilers as the room warmed above freezing. However, a caking of six inches of ice meant that convection alone would take quite a long time...

Nevertheless, as the first chunks of ice slid off, engineers decided to help it along by carefully scraping more off as they realized what Taylor was doing. The ice started sliding off on its own accord at a decent pace about fifteen minutes later, when Taylor had heated the room to about fifty degrees Celsius.

"We'll take it from here," the head engineer told Taylor, seeking to get rid of him as soon as possible. He turned to other workers in the plant. "Get some more coal ready!"

Now, for the next one.

For the next fifteen minutes, ice dripped off the boilers as the room warmed above freezing. However, a caking of six inches of ice meant that convection alone would take quite a long time...

Nevertheless, as the first chunks of ice slid off, engineers decided to help it along by carefully scraping more off as they realized what Taylor was doing. The ice started sliding off on its own accord at a decent pace about fifteen minutes later, when Taylor had heated the room to about fifty degrees Celsius.

"We'll take it from here," the head engineer told Taylor, seeking to get rid of him as soon as possible. He turned to other workers in the plant. "Get some more coal ready!"

Now, for the next one.
Right. Taylor answered, eager to get out from the glares of the workers.