NationStates Jolt Archive

Tatooine, Tatoo System - Year 35

A single Corellian CR90 corvette seamlessly powered past the desert world of Tatooine, its hull grey with age but still proudly displaying the diplomatic red of the now-dissolved Galactic Republic. In its time, this ship had been host to diplomats, senators... even Jedi. It was the Tantive IV, the personal starship of Bail Organa of the Royal House of Alderaan.

Behind it, the Devastator, an Imperial-class Star Destroyer of the Galactic Empire. Blast after blast of blinding green energy passed the Tantive as the Imperial ship opened fire, several slamming into the corvette's shields with unimaginable force.

One fatal turbolaser shot punched through the shields of the smaller vessel, tearing away a section of the ship and crippling the main reactor. Sensor readings on the Devastator were shown to her captain, and the order was given to cease fire.

-

Caught in the Devastator's powerful tractor beam, the Tantive IV hung suspended above Tatooine, her engines lifeless. A lone TIE boarding craft was dispatched from the Devastator's hold.

-----

I feel the ship rock as the clamps are finally disengaged, and the TIE boarder drifts toward the surface of the barren world below us. I don't know what it's called, or where it is, because it wasn't in the mission briefing. They don't tell these things, because I am the 'yes sir, no sir', the Imperial whipping boy, the las-fodder and the human droid. My name is Kal Keller, and I am a Stormtrooper.

They tell me the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

I look at the faces of my men - old and young, apprehensive and eager, 'volunteers' and clones - and I can think of at least fifteen other things I would rather be doing.

"I look at you now," I tell them, lying through my teeth, "and I can't think of anywhere I would rather be. I was on Polis Massa, and I was on Kamino... stomm, I was on Kashyykk!" Am I this old? "I tell you, this is me," though I hate to admit it, "this is what I do and what I want and what I live. I kill the Emperor's enemies. I kill them because I am told to and because I enjoy it, because it is a taste of the freedom I didn't have as a citizen, the freedom to do whatever the hell you want and get a medal for it.
"Some of you I've fought beside, some of you are new to this unit... but all of you are Stormtroopers," hard luck, "and you are the vengeful hand of this Galactic Empire, the ultimate and final guise of Imperial justice. You are better trained, better equipped and better men than the Rebel scum that we're here to kill, and it is your duty and your pleasure to execute them in the name of Order."

"Thirty seconds!" yells the pilot. I don't think he realises the world of hell into which he is delivering me. I feel like wrapping my hands around his throat and choking him to death for opening his mouth.

"Helmets on!" I order, and the faces disappear behind their perfect white masks. Some of them I will never see again.

Time ticks by with agonising slowness, and I watch the airlock approaching through the boarder's forward viewports. Behind that door is some redneck fierfek who will do everything in his power to blow my head from my shoulders, while I do everything in mine to kill him and his friends.

"Ten seconds!" says the pilot. This time his voice is on the squad comm, and his call echoes through my helmet. If I could, I would drag him screaming through the airlock with me.

The boarder shakes as though it has been hit by an asteroid, and I barely register the pilot's third call.

"Disembark!"

My hand flies forward and my throat opens without any involvement with my brain. I'm already running to take position.

"Betas!" I yell, "Breach that door!"

The inner airlock opens, revealing the scorched white paint of the corvette. A trooper rushes forward, his E-11 cracking against his thigh while his hands cradle a shaped charge. He places it, primes it, and runs like hell. My team is huddled around the airlock, and I can see Alpha and Gamma teams taking cover further back in the boarder.

For a brief moment my senses are gone, lost in the roaring void of the detonation as my suit's audio dampners kick in, blanking out the ear-shattering noise. I scream as I charge, the rising shriek permeating every cell of my being as my legs carry my body forward through the melting durasteel. One trooper pushes past me, firing once before a reply catches him full in the face, tearing into his plasmoid helm and searing the flesh away from his skull.

My teeth grind together in the mindless, keening noise that I've heard older troopers describe, but it barely registers. My E-11 comes up, its blackened barrel promising burning pain, and the recoil shudders up my arm I pump bolt after bolt of searing energy into a hostile. Red fire slices into the man's body, and I keep firing until I can see the other side.

Blaster fire blazes past me, ripping into the unarmoured bodies of the Rebels. The irony of the situation jumps into my brain - that I complain about my own armour, while blasting an enemy wearing what amounts to a t-shirt and a bucket for protection. My thoughts are derailed by the unavoidable reality of combat as I watch my men advance into the Rebel ship, and my hands tighten on the pistol grip of my E-11...

OOC DAAA, DADADAA, dadadadaDADADAdadadaDADADAyouknowtherest.

Welcome, citizen, to the exploits of the 501st Legion!

Watch! As they fight a thousand enemies from a thousand races on a thousand worlds in the Star Wars universe!

Cringe! As they horribly distort George Lucas' franchise with out-of-universe references such as names like 'Matt'!

Laugh! As they comically bump their heads on automatic doors!

Sue! As they shamelessly drop one-liners and movie quotes at every opportunity!

In a galaxy far, far away... there was an IC thread. Here we go, peeps. The moment of truth... progressing from the storming of the Tantive IV, we begin. Begin posting, follow your orders, and play nice.

ooc: fuck!!! is this is Star Wars open RP???If it is can i be imperials or rebels?

Me likey.

OOC: Closed, as stated in the title. The signup has happened, and closed, and we have plenty of players.

ooc: can you show me the link for signups?

OOC:
He said they already had enough Players...

The Signup is closed. No exceptions.

ooc: wtf? I can at least look at the signups

OOC: Please, stop cluttering with OOC.

OOC: OOC thread, my sig.

As the TIE Boarder detached itself from the Devastator, Staff Sergeant TK-75/65-8109, better known as Elix, looked around at his squad members, having taken control of Alpha Team for this operation. It didn't have a name, this one. Move in, eliminate the Rebels, and do it well, befitting the Stormtrooper Corps, the Empire and the New Order. Unlike his counterpart, he said very little to his men as they progressed down to the stricken Blockade Runner. Nothing was left to be said to this group of Stormtroopers, all of whom were original clones, born of Jango and Kamino, and had served in the Clone Wars, and the 501st, for over twenty years. Nothing was said, because everything had been said. Until battle was joined, they would speak few words. Actions spoke for them.

As one, they placed their white, almost faceless helmets on their heads, and Elix winced slightly... he had never liked this helmet, or this armour. It was too generic, too plain. How he yearned for his old armour, and his old helmet. The weapon wasn't much better. He had bemoaned the loss of the DC-series in favour of the E-11. Sure, it packed the same power into a much smaller package, but it was so inaccurate, even highly trained Imperial Stormtroopers had trouble hitting things at ranges longer than point blank. He wished the Empire had kept the DC-17... it had been a fine weapon. If Stormtroopers had been allowed some individuality, he would have one of his own.

He heard the calls from the pilot, and couldn't help but think to say,"Fuck you, pal, you're not the one going in." But he never said anything, his training and natural discipline taking hold. He felt the shudder as the clamps attached themselves, and knew they were going to be entering a bottleneck, entering a corridor full of determined rebels with buckets for protection, as if they would help. Elix couldn't help but feel he may not see any of his squadmates faces alive again. But he pushed the thought from his mind... it distracted him from the job.

The door blew open, and the first trooper, a member of Beta, was taken down by a direct shot. Elix wasted no time in moving his unit through the hole. A blaster bolt clipped the edge of his helmet, and he swore softly in Mandoa'a, knowing only those who could speak the language would understand him. He found the fool who had fired, and ruthlessly cut him down,"Alpha Team, our orders are to find those plans. Eliminate these rebels, and get to the main computer room. Take prisoners if you can."

Lieutenant semko looked around the room at the stormtroopers preparing to board the vessel. He looked decidedly out of place in his gray uniform surrounded by the white storm troopers, but that really didn’t matter he guessed. The trooper blasted the door open and he watched as the faceless members of the 501st ran headfirst into their deaths. 'Bottleneck' was the term used to describe the situation, in short it didn’t matter how many stormtroopers there were, as long as they had to enter one at a time there were going to be heavy casualties.

After the first wave cleared out the hallway Semko stepped through the hatch and examined the situation. Just as he was about to give an order he spotted a rebel peeking his head out of an hallway and leveling his blaster at him, Semko eyes widened with surprise and he quickly pulled the stormtrooper next to him by the shoulder directly into the line of fire. The blast hit the shocked trooper square in the chest and left little remaining, as the man fell to the ground Semko raised his rifle and fired a quick burst into the defender’s upper body ending the would be sniper’s life. As he looked down at the fallen stormtrooper he thought he recognized the man. “Didn’t I go to the academy with him?” He thought to himself “Oh well, I’m a vital part of this operation. He’s not” the Lieutenant then nodded to sergeant indicateing for him to lead the way.

((OCC: After some searching on wikipedia I discovered Army pilots dress like this http://starwars.wikia.com/images/1/13/Atstcrew.jpg when outside of vehicals.))

Jorran, or TK-88/95, drummed his gloved fingers unconciously against his armored leg in a military beat. When he realized what he was doing he cursed silently and forced himself to stop. He mentally reassured himself as the borading craft headed for the rebel ship below them. You're invincible. YOu are one of the Emperor's finest. Part of the Five-Oh-First. We're Vader's Fist.

He looked up as Sargeant Keller began speaking. His inspirational words had a calming effect on Jorran. He nodded in agreement, thinking to himself. We're the best of the best. Sure, it's your first mission. But you will conquer...

"Thirty seconds!" the pilot yelled from the cockpit. Moments later Keller followed up with an order, "Helmets on!"

With a feral grin, Jorran slid his helmet on, reveling in the feel of the armor. He tucked the shaped charge he was holding under one arm and checked his blaster rifle one last time, making sure the safety was off, the selector on kill. The rifle irked him. It was terribly inaccurate. Over five meters and you could forget about hitting a nerf herd, let alone a human-sized target...

"Ten seconds!"

Jorran braced himself as the cry came over the squad comms net. Time seemed to slow down. His entire body felt like a coiled spring. There was a dull clunk as the ship reached the blockade runner.

"Disembark!"

Keller barked an order over the comms net, "Betas, breach that door!"

Jorran nodded and hurried forward, hefting the charge and placing it. He muttered to himself as he began priming it, mind back in basic. "Red to green. Put the electrical charge in. Make sure it's attached..."

He stepped back and scurried for cover, drawing his blaster. There was a screech and then the door blew open in a shower of sparks. Jorran's helmet dampened most of the noise. He was only a step behind Keller when one of his squadmates pushed past and took a blaster bolt in the face.

With barely a pause, he stepped forward, past Keller. Just like in basic. Acquire the target. Sight. Squeeze the trigger, don't pull. Target eliminated. Acquiring second target. Move. Find cover. Sight. Fire.

A blaster bolt whizzed within inches of his head, snapping him back to the present as he continued firing, sending bursts of red fire into the rebels. He stepped forward over the bodies of the rebels, ducking as another blaster bolt whizzed past, returning fire. He truly was a tool of the Emperor.

"Lieutenant!"

Elix grabbed the young officer basically by the scruff of the neck and literally threw him back behind the bulkhead,"With all due respect, sir, leave this to us. We're the soliders, you're the commanders. You need to be kept alive."

As if we're that easily disposable... but no matter

As he poked his head back around the corner of the bulkhead, a blaster bolt singed the wall just in front of him. Looking across the by-now decimated hallway, Imperial and Rebel bodies strewn across it,"Trooper, lay down some cover fire whilst we advance."

He looked back to Staff Sergeant Keller, whom he recognized despite no markings in the armour,"Keller! Your men secure this corridor and the local area for Lord Vader! We'll move ahead and make sure the way is clear to the Computer Room and Main Bridge!"

He didn't shout, but merely spoke in a maddingly calm voice down his com-link.