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Put 'Em in their place.
Topic Started: 27 Dec 2010, 20:51 (1,019 Views)
Commander Khaler
Khaler's face set in a stony scowl of grim determination and the fire of battle lit in his eyes from behind the Stormtrooper mask. They were coming his direction, and were sending a stream of blaster bolts his way. Well, Khaler wasn't set for stun, and he didn't intend to change that. If they didn't want to go down in one piece, that was their problem. With one smooth motion, Khaler hit the detonator on the speeder's explosives, sending a bone-jarring shockwave through the area, strong enough for Khaler to feel it even from about twenty meters away. Flames gushed out, severely burning anyone within four meters of the speeder ad probably injuring anyone within eight. Hoping that would serve as ample distraction, the seasoned fighter swore and pivoted from behind his cover, spraying a lethal barrage of mini-cannon bolts. If the rebels happened to successfully fire on his low profile, he would probably be seriously wounded, but the smoke, flames, and blaster bolts would make that a very good shot indeed. It would be easy enough to force him back behind cover, but to do so would sacrifice a few men.

Meanwhile, the three commandos were wasting no time. Using the cover the rebels had previously used in the room, they took up position and began to fire through the door opening, laying down suppressive fire to try and distract the rebels from Khaler, or force them to recklessly charge the mini-cannon and speeder for cover. They aimed quickly and professionally, coldly trying to take down as many as they could with their stun bolts.

Joel Githard knew what to do. Hanging back from the group and not taking any more shots, he tried to convince the rebels to go for the three commandos, but to no avail - the rebels were determined to have casualties. Scrambling with the rest, he kept low and out of range when the speeder exploded - the heat washed across his body, and a piece of metal cut his forehead, but not serious injuries were sustained. When Khaler opened fire and the commandos started to advance, the man saw a moment of confusion he may be able to strike again. Aiming swiftly, he fired some potshots at some of the rebels, hoping to remain unseen and unknown. If he could harass them from within, the trap was even more likely to succeed, and they could scratch off another mission accomplished.

"Sorry people, I think I changed my mind." He mumbled inaudibly under the battle.
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Jon Pinnat
Jon stayed near the end of the group, taking his cues from those in front and hoping he wasn't in anyone's way. This was all chaos and destruction, and all in all it came pretty close to his personal definition of hell. With no clue as to what to do he was really just canon fodder trying to keep up and his head down at the same time. He had been supposed to get some combat training sometime in the future, and now he saw the merit in it. He might never be a real soldier, but at least he might know how to handle himself in unforeseen situations like this one. If he survived this.

He had been far away from the explosion to just feel the shockwave as a strong wind, badly startling, but not immediately life threatening. Others weren't as lucky. The small rebel force was rapidly crumbling, the temporary leader fully down now, and the others just trying to put together a semi-ordered retreat along the wall toward some back alleys. They were only faced by one man now, and realisation set in that either they could make a run for it now or it would never happen. Putting down cover fire, they simply ran.

Knowing he wasn't much help with the main charge, Jon looked around to see if he could do something else. That's when he saw Zak actually firing on his people. Jon was so startled that the curse he spat out was unintelligible. Even a rookie like him could put two and two together now. Helpful or not, he felt and gave into the strong urge to take down that man before he could do any more damage.

Jon's aim was bad enough that he completely discounted the blaster now, but decided to bodily attack. Things looked bad enough that he probably would not make it out of here anyway, so he might as well take that bastard with him. His tackle and flying fist looked more like a barroom brawl than anything to do with hand-to-hand combat, but it served its purpose.
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Commander Khaler
Commander Khaler ducked behind his cover as the cover fire started coming. They were going to try and make a hasty retreat down the nearby alley, in an effort to escape. The griseled veteran chuckled a chuckle that had less humor than Tatooine had water. Now that they had enough of the higher ranking rebels, the lives of the rest were rapidly decreasing in value. Keeping behind cover, Khaler armed a thermal detonator and chucked it into the alley. As soon as it went off, he would pop out and let loose with the mini-cannon again, hopefully finishing off the rest of them, or at least crushing their resistance. The three commandos should already be starting to advance...

Meanwhile, Joel Githard was thrown to the ground as Pinnat tackled him from the side. With a surprised grunt, the spy hit the ground and dropped his blaster. Rolling and twisting, he managed to rotate himself so that he and Pinnat were face-to-face, with the young rebel on top.

"Oh hey buddy, how you holding up?" The commando laughed darkly as he used his right arm to fend off blows.

Even as he spoke, his three comrades were advancing on the fleeing rebels. Without pausing, IC-448 came up behind the two brawlers and reached forward to grab Pinnat. If he was successful, he would then press the muzzle of his blaster against the young man's body, and fire, which would knock the rebel out cold. The men would then continue to advance and fire on Jon's comrades, stunning who they could and helping Khaler end the fight. If not, Joel and IC-448 would have to improvise.
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Jon Pinnat
Zak's sarcastic remark was oil on the fire of Jon's temper, a temper that he himself would be somewhat surprised about, if he stopped to think, which he didn't. The mix of fear and sudden anger had robbed him of the ability to think rationally, and there was no awareness now other than the man he was fighting. His opponent was on the defence for the moment, and he was ready to press his advantage whatever the cost. He didn't see the rest of his group being mopped up, and nor did he care any longer.

Once someone tried to pull him off Zak, Jon's reason partly returned, but by then it was too late. A man with a little more experience might have been able to twist around and at least prolong the fight for a bit, but Jon barely had time to register the presence of the blaster before it fired. For a split-second every neuron in his body seemed to overload before shutting down, taking him into deep unconciousness.

Not long after the last of the rebels went down in the now combined barrage of the approaching troopers. The trap had been done well, so that none escaped; seven unconcious from stun bolts, four dead and three wounded.
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Commander Khaler
Commander Jak Khaler grinned bestially as he pulled off his helmet, his eye burning with a cruel sort of pleasure. Striding over to his men, he began to congratulate them, his cybernetic arm holding the mini-cannon. "Well done boys." He chuckled harshly. Reaching forward, he helped Githard up off the ground. "Especially you son. Looks like this cell is done. Khaler to Central, we have 'em down. Got seven Rebs here for an interview aboard the Punisher."

"We copy Khaler, men will be there to clean up the bodies and take the stunned ones to custody in a few moments, just hold position and wait for a few moments." Came the cold reply of an Imperial officer.

Githard brushed himself off and looked around with a smile of satisfaction. The mission had gone much more quickly than they had even expected. "So Sir, does this mean we get a good month or so off?"

The hardened Commander laughed harshly. "Of course not soldier. Now we've got some questions for our friends here before we send them to Kessel for some character building."

"What's left of them anyway." IC-448 chimed in.

Everyone laughed. It was one of those laughs where you just had to be there to understand.
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