Log Date:
	4/9/99

Log Cast:
	Webb, Daryth, Shenner, Elly, Athena, Ken, Daxin, Veers, Calder
(NPC), Rodo, Stalh, Whitney, Devyn, Raj, Fife, assorted stormtrooper
legions, assorted CDU Marines

Log Intro:
	 It's enough to confirm Shenner's worst fears that everything she 
loves eventually leaves her... or is destroyed.
	She's spent months growing to love the world of Caspar, for it's been
the first world where she's had a real job... a real home... and friends who 
have been more than comrades briefly encountered and never seen again. On 
Caspar, for the first time on her life, she's managed to live in relative 
peace and has begun to not only recover from some of the more painful events 
of her recent life, but even to begin building herself a future. Even her 
innermost heart, still broken over the departure of Paul Nighman from her 
life, has begun to gain something like healing, given an impetus from the 
attentions she's received from the New Republic officer Gavin Hollister.
	With the coming of the Empire to Caspar, however, the young bard
has abruptly found her attentions yanked out of brooding over her recent
personal turmoil and angst. With the coming of the Empire, Shenneret Veery
has seen for the first time in her life what she'd only heard of in rumors
of the Rebellion during her childhood: the invasion of a peaceful planet, the
slaughtering of innocent civilians, and the destruction of everything she has
begun to hold dear.
	But she's also seen that even in the midst of war, those older than
she are still prone to tell her that she has no right to stand up for what she
believes in... not only because she is a civilian, but also because she is too
young. It's a critique that Shenner is sick and tired of hearing. Her age has
not struck her as relevant in the midst of helping turn the Sandbar into a
waystation for refugees whose homes have been destroyed, nor in her
ability to aim and shoot a weapon, or to do everything in her power to resist
the invaders who have come to her adopted homeworld.
	She's been told one time too many that she is "too young". And
so, when her soldier friend Jonathan Webb helps her evacuate the Sandbar
in preparation for an Imperial offensive soon to sweep down from the
northern reaches of the city, the young musician seizes the opportunity to
prove that, as she's been maintaining for years now, she's old enough for
anything that comes along...
	Even war.

----------
After the initial pummeling given when the bridges over the Sessapan were 
  blown, the Marine defenders of this section of the city almost immediately 
  disengaged, falling back from the banks of the River. Instead, the Marines 
  have been settling for near constant harrassment of the Imperial forces on 
  the opposite side while they awaited the necessary reinforcements to cross 
  the Sessapan. If one were to view the situation from overhead, minus the fog 
  of war (which has been incredibly thick as of late) one would notice that 
  the south bank of the Sessapan is now a no-man's land of rubble, while the 
  CDU perimetre has tightened a little over a km to the south. Somewhere in 
  this no man's land, however, are a handful of recce units, including Webb's 
  hastily assmebled platoon, which has been edging its way north into no-man's 
  land, to seek a position well foreward of the Marine perimetre. As some of 
  his team has since been KIA, MIA, or WIA, he has filled out his ranks as 
  best he can with the available personnel...

Other CDU units in the area include the Union Dragoons, an armor/mechanized 
  infantry regiment manning this section of the perimetre. Consisting largely 
  of Hammerhead Tanks, Lynx AFV's in various configurations, and Wraith 
  airspeeders, this unit has the mobility edge over most of the Imperial 
  forces that it could encounter, but is, as most Marine units are, lighter 
  than its Imperial counterparts. Doubtlessly, the Marines also have Close Air 
  Support only a call away...

STARFIGHTER: SubPro-CDMC Harpoon -- Royal 5 hurtles low and fast over the 
  battlefield, the shriek of its passing drowning out the din of battle for 
  the troopers it briefly passes. It's fuselage is carbon-scored and hastily 
  patched from near misses and glancing hits, a testament to just how many 
  times this bird has thrown itself at the Imperial Juggernaut threatening 
  Caspar. Casting a shadow resembling an avenging bird of prey, the Harpoon 
  once again engages Caspar's foes, it's twin blaster mounts spitting red 
  death at the approaching troop and armpured unit. Jinking and twisting to 
  evade the massed anti-aircraft fire from the Imperials, the Harpoon lines up 
  a tank in it's sights and deploys a pair of anti-armour missiles from it's 
  underslung launcher, the two dartlike projectiles lancing forward to impale 
  the hapless vehicle and reduce it to fragments of durasteel and molten slag, 
  as the Harpoon afterburns away, the pilot allows it to gain a little height, 
  then waggles it's wings in a cheeky victory posture. For those in the know, 
  a hollow victory indeed, but the pilot is more interested in raising Marine 
  morale than looking at the stats of this battle.

It is rather doubtful that Jonathan Webb's definition of 'available personnel' 
  meshed with that of Shenneret Veery. But well, hey, Shenner's not managed to 
  live nearly 20 years without answering the knock of opportunity -- and as 
  she has vigorously claimed to a number of dubious older individuals for 
  several weeks now, anyone who wants to tell her she has no right to be 
  standing up and fighting for her adopted homeworld can take a long walk out 
  a short airlock. Later, perhaps, she'll worry about the consequences of her 
  having 'adopted' Sergeant Sung's field gear, an 'adoption' that took a bit 
  of judicious lockpicking... for now, armed to the teeth with not only the 
  rifle and blaster she's gotten from Webb but also the various goodies stowed 
  here and there in Sung's uniform pockets, Shenner moves as surreptitiously 
  as possible in the back of the ranks of Webb's platoon. Her presence has 
  raised some eyebrows, for she doesn't _move_ quite like Sergeant Sung even 
  though she's about the same size and build. For now, she's gotten around 
  this problem by keeping her conversation as gruff as possible. For now....

Shenner(#3773POACF)
This is a young human female, of about 5'6" in height, but of a delicate 
  enough build that there barely seems to be any substance to her. Her skin is 
  moon-pale, her already fine-boned features made pronounced by an utter lack 
  of extraneous flesh anywhere on her face. In stark contrast with her white 
  complexion, her hair blazes a dark red; her green eyes, large, luminous, and 
  darkly limned by red-brown brows and lashes, look out at everything she 
  encounters with a intelligent, haunted intensity. Those eyes, incongruous 
  with her ethereal frame, and taken along with a walk, stance, accent, and 
  mannerisms seemingly more suited for a brash young street tough, exemplify 
  the contradiction that anyone who observes this girl long enough can soon 
  discover: that for all her fragile appearance, this is no delicate flower. 
  Rather, this young human is one that burns.
This young woman's present attire belies a more agressive side to her nature, 
  for she is presently attired in the blended slate green and black splotch 
  camouflage typical of the CDU Marines. Her body is covered fully by a one 
  piece coverall of blaster resistant material, thickened slightly about the 
  thigh, shin, forearm, and in other places that don't need the flexibility. 
  The garnment is slightly baggy, affording easy movement, and comes up to 
  just beneath her chin. Her torso is further protected by a rigid, load 
  bearing torso shell, fitted carefully to the dimensions of her frame. This 
  torso shell serves not only to protect her from weapons fire, but also 
  carries the vast bulk of the supplies that she will need in combat. 
  Ammunition, grenades, explosive charges, and other such handy items are kept 
  in easy reach in the chest pockets, while the larger utility pockets about 
  her waist and hips contain bulkier items like a filtration canteen, a 
  medical pack, and other survival gear. Boots, gloves, and a full coverage 
  helmet complete this outfit, with attachment points that can be sealed to 
  render the suit airtight for operating in hostile environments. Her helmet 
  is fitted with an enhanced sensor visor sporting three lenses which gaze out 
  at the world unblinkingly.
She is armed. In a sheath that is slung over one shoulder she carries a long, 
  machete-like vibroblade. Her sidearm is stowed in a tactical holster which 
  is strapped about her right thigh, in easy reach should she need it. Her 
  rifle is a CDMC built KXE series bi-polar type blaster, in carbine format 
  for easy use in close quarters. An extended power unit is fitted beneath the 
  receiver, while atop the weapon rests a small electro-optical scope with a 
  laser rangefinder, fitted with a thin cable to relay the information to the 
  heads up display in her helmet.
                -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Carried Virtual Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=-
=> 6576 Galactic Standard Credits 
=> XiX Blaster Pistol 
=> Protective Vest <Worn>
=> Tracker-16 Blaster Rifle <Wielded>

Elly looks around cautiously as she quietly steps with the group. Her AA-8 is 
  in hand and held tight. She looks at Athena as she walks with her and asks 
  quietly, "You doing alright?" and takes another careful look around.

Athena comes in with the platoon of Webb. She slowly walks at the end of the 
  row onlz being followed bz Elly, being quiet as she concentrates on the 
  upcoming fight and to be sure about her own thougts. Suddenly she does her 
  ritual she learn once back on Coruscant, being one of its guard, as she 
  presses her index finger against her v-axe to draw some blood. Then she 
  draws with the bloody finger three marks on each cheek the symbol of her old 
  combat team. After this martial demonstration that this woman is ready for 
  the fight her rests her v-axe on her right shoulder while the rifles hangs 
  down her left one. Athena sighs deeply wondering again how she ended here 
  but then she simply follows the CDU marine in the line before her , 
  wondering how Sung was so quickly before her, since she had to Azya store 
  awa in her cell.

A huge gust of wind sends great amounts of smoke and dust spiralling as a huge 
  battle engineer transport ship lands next to the site of the broken bridge, 
  it's metallic boxy frame already accumulating various small arms blaster 
  scarring that bounce of the hull like rubber. Slowly but surely, ship lowers 
  from a hydraulic arm a huge makeshift replacement section for the bridge 
  forged from solid black durasteel. There is a loud reverberating thud as it 
  is dropped onto the war torn section of the bridge, allowing a new crossing. 
  This seems to happen in perfect timing with the Rapier Squadron of TIE that 
  sceech overhead headlong into conflict with the superior Casparian fighters. 
  The Imperial forces on the other side of the bridge, consisting of copious 
  amounts of walkers both AT-AT and AT-ST as well as floating fortresses and 
  speeder bikes and covering TIE Schimitars, swarms with shiny white ants it 
  would appear from above, however anyone with any experience would know that 
  in this situation fear is more feasible that wonder. The groups streams over 
  the bridge as on cue and before Caspar troops can do anything about it the 
  bridge is all but secured through an authoratitive force of numbers.

ST 43rd Legion has already in the defensive position along the side of the 
  river. Now without any warning, the Entre legioned opened fire. Infentry, 
  armor, repulsorlift crafts. Anything that an be fired are firing toward the 
  enemy position. The hurrican made of laser bolts blasted into the opposite 
  side creates a web of debris, smokes. All this is ofcourse designed to cover 
  the engineers.

the Simitar Assault Wings charges out of the clouds like avenging angels at 
  the same time as the 43rd Legion opens fire. In a coordinated move they 
  blasted the enmey bank with missile then pull up in almost straight toward 
  the space dear any enemy fighters to follow them into the await imperial 
  fighters.

Ken is standing beside Veers in his AT-AT. He pulls the scope to watch the 
  opening shot of the assault, "Very good coordination General" He looks at 
  Veers coldly, "I might admit the navy is losing faith in our IGF botherens 
  for the debacle of the initial assault."

ST 10th Legion takes up a defensive position on their side of the river, 
  firing to cover the arrival of the new troops. Their addition to the frail 
  creates more smoke and debris for the time being.

Daxin moves back towards the transport to climb into his own AT-ST walker 
  ordering his troops to stand theor ground no matter what the cost.

From behind the rows of the Imperials, a single AT-AT can be seen, though 
  surrounding it are a few AT-ST. The small group slowly makes its way towards 
  the rest of the Imperial Force and it seems that the AT-ST's are protecting 
  the AT-AT as best they can. Another small Company of Stormtrooper's arrive, 
  though they seem to be commanded by a figure clad in Black Armor, though the 
  helmet seems to have been discarded somewhere else.

The lead walker battalion, headed by the Walker indentified by it's markings 
  as Blizzard 1 advances slowly but steadily, the group of heavy footsteps 
  sending murmurs through the ground that grow ever louder throughout the 
  advance. The group is firing at will in an attempt to knock out the heavier 
  CDU armor that is dug in ahead. The heavy blasters are getting no rest here 
  as they are trained and fire from target to target. One battle tank firing 
  from beside a large rustic building is hit, sending chards of shrapnel in 
  all directions, one of which catches a CDU Troopers as he screams and hits 
  the ground in agony. This onslaught shakes the city and all it's buildings 
  to it's foundations, the deadly advance getting ever quicker. Atop Blizzard 
  1 Veers eyes remain forward, eyes transfixed. He does not meet Ken's eyes 
  through addresses him coolly, in a low tone of voice tinged with Imperial 
  Old School accent, "We shall reach our objective Commodore Wolf. There is no 
  reason for you to doubt us." It is deathly quiet inside the walker, and the 
  air is stale and cold.

STARFIGHTER: SubPro-CDMC Harpoon -- Royal 5 returns to the fray, this time 
  accompanied by two more fighters, obviously reinforcements thrown in to the 
  battle to try and delay the Imperial advance for as long as possible. Over 
  the general broadcast channel, a youthful voice, tinged with fatigue but 
  laced with defiance rasps "Well, well, well.....Caspar Air thanks our 
  gracious Imperials for flying with us, we hope you enjoyed your flight..." 
  He punctuates this by flying over the Imperial troopers moving over the 
  newly laid bridge and dropping hundreds of bomblets onto their massed ranks. 
  "Please leave by the exits indicated by your friendly stewards" His wingman 
  follows suit, trying vainly to stem the white-armoured tide that surges over 
  the bridge like a tidal wave. The two new fighters streak past, ignoring the 
  troopers, their ion cannons blazing and catching tanks and APCs in their 
  blue conflagration, reducing many to immobile and useless hulks, oultined 
  with intermittent ion crackles. Many...but not all....again the Imperial 
  juggernaut seems to throw off the marine aviators attacks like mosquito 
  bites. As the new Harpoons lance up to regain an attack position, they are 
  seemingly swatted out of the sky by a deluge of green death. As the debris 
  and smoke clear, the hideous shriek of TIE engines batters the battlescene 
  as a wing of TIEs swoop by, adding two irreplacable marine pilots to the 
  Imperial kill board. Royal 5 and 6 are as yet untouched, though their 
  withdrawl vectors are considerably less jaunty as the impact of their fellow 
  pilots deaths sink in.

Well, she'd always wanted to join the Rebellion when she was a kid. Now than 
  she's flung herself headlong into an actual battle with all the earmarks of 
  the conflicts that so characterized the galaxy-wide conflict between the 
  Empire and the Alliance, for perhaps the second time in her life Shenneret 
  Veery is swept over with a strangely peaceful clarity of mind coming from 
  doing _exactly_ what she'd always wanted to do. Shoulder to shoulder with 
  other young Marines under Webb's command, deliberately putting out the same 
  demeanor of 'I _belong_ here' that she's worn like her 'adopted' armor all 
  her life, Shenner brandishes her rifle with the same determination the 
  'real' soldiers that surround her exhibit. And like them, she does not 
  hesitate to fire upon the white-armored enemies swarming over the planet 
  that is rightfully theirs.

Athenas's first idea was to cry out in shock and surprise as the imperials 
  start their fire with the perfection she is proub about, she just wanted to 
  turn around and tell Elly to admire such perfection as she reminds that 
  there might come a few grenades over to their place, letting her call out a 
  warning before she jumps to the side, diving for cover as she brings the 
  vibro-axe before herself, carefully not to land on it. She looks around, 
  feeling like a fool as nothing happens at all and groans at the pain of the 
  hard landing on her shoulder, really not used to it since years but the 
  moment the adrenaline rushes through her body and the instinct takes control 
  over the mind she forgets about the pain and her doubts. Now it doesn't 
  matter anymore on which side she stands, only the matter to survive and kill 
  like beasts, there is lost the difference between mankind and animals.

Commander Calder converses with Webb and she look at the whole scene. Making a 
  universal signal with her hand she comms in to the marines, "Prepare with 
  the grenade launches, we want the whole place fogged up, have your night 
  visors ready." She clips in, her face hidden by her battle armour as the 
  marines. Comming in a few more instructions. She turns and signal to Gunny 
  Sung. The marines in the front drop to their knees and poised the grenade 
  launchers. A burst of fire and a trail of white smoke as smoke grenades were 
  launched into the air, towards the advancing ST covering everything in a 
  white smog. The other marines continue to shoot at the advancing STs and 
  Imperial forces tirelessly.

Rodo quickly adjusts his visor, to thermal vision, which allows him to see the 
  enemy in the thick smoke. He brings up his bi-polar carbine, and starts to 
  fire in the direction of the ST's, hoping to help slow their advance on this 
  position.

The billowing scent of destruction and battle. It was a perfume that Stalh so 
  often longed to smell once more. The earlier sensation of the brutal war 
  being raged around him, filled his mind like a narcotic and it was that 
  craving that he wants to satisfy by being here now. Now. Among the dead, 
  dying and those that after today would just be another mere statistic. It 
  was here that Stalh relishes beyond all comprehension. It is here where his 
  real self shows through. It is here where the animal is uncaged. 
  Unholstering both of his heavy blaster pistols, he squints as the sun 
  reflexes the glistening glare from an approaching StormTrooper. This 
  trooper, Stalh thinks coldly, will be but the first of many today. Soon, 
  like all others, they will yield to Stalh. He has no doubts of that. And as 
  a single blood red laser lances out like an assassin's blade, the former 
  Imperial turned Republican business man becomes the beast, a man possessed 
  with the destruction of all, except himself.

The Imperial War machine, as well oiled as ever advances still, the slow 
  procession of the advance earmarked by the slow, rhymic thud of walker 
  forces. The sky is filled with a black smoke, originating from black areas 
  of scorched earth and the smoking twisted wreckage of both disable machinery 
  and charred human corpses. A dull red glow given off from numerous spot 
  fires all around the battle field give the area an eerie if not apocalyptic 
  glow. The Imperial forces push forward, targeting all in their path, be they 
  military or civilian, they are all the same to the Empire. A scourge. 
  Families run with children in arms as their homes tumble down behind them, 
  some falling victim to Imperial fire, some being ushered to safety by the 
  already overwhelmed CDU ground forces. In the background, a large walker 
  falls to the ground powerless, victim to enemy fire, however there is not 
  shortage of refreshment as the seemingly endless Imperial forces continue 
  the onslaught chillingly.

Whitney slaps down her visor with quick speed as she faces the approaching 
  Imperial forces. Her movements smooth and agile as she drops to one knee and 
  fires the smoke bomb in the direction of the Imperial. She does not of 
  course stop at that. Instead she wipes up her Bi-Polar and viciously fires 
  at the approaching Imperial soldiers.

Shrieks of impending terror hail down from the beckoning night that will soon 
  be among the people below. The shrieks of terror, the screaming engines of 
  TIE Interceptors, grow louder as time moves on. Mere seconds, the difference 
  between a narrow miss and a scorching death from a blaster bolt that would 
  deliver one unto to fiery depths of hell and beyond, are all it takes for 
  the silhouette of four Interceptors to drift eerily down from the sky - 
  their diamond formation dropping down slightly to lay waste to a collective 
  of apartments that no doubt would inflame all those inside that seek it for 
  protection. Pulling away rapidly, they split into two flights of two as the 
  search starts for another targets to acquire and destroy.

Ken stands in the AT-AT with Veers. He pulls down the scope to scan the 
  battlefield. When the smoke screen raise in the battle field Ken laughs and 
  shakes his head, "Smoke Screen...." He has to catch breath, "What kind of 
  primitive stupidity" He turns to his com, "Scmitar, Eyecandy Menuver." Then 
  he grins at the Veers.

Stormtrooper, 3rd Legion continues to march and fire despite the heavy return 
  shots coming from the Casparian defense forces. The Stormtroopers' fire is 
  not quite accurate but due to the tremendous amount of blaster shots 
  emanating from this Legion, the precision seems to be much higher. The heavy 
  smoke filling the air does not seem to slow the shock troops' advance in the 
  least. They flood over the bridge with a seemingly unstoppable force; as men 
  in white armor fall, more appear to take their place. The troopers are 
  intent on finishing their objective and choose their targets very 
  impartially, everything and everyone is fair game.

the Scmitar are back again. They screams down from the high heavens toward the 
  living hell of battlefield. But this time they didn't drop any bombs or 
  missiles. Instead they formed into line abreat and screamed maximum speed 
  over the head of the field at bearly tree top. The super sonic speed bring 
  with them a great wind that carried away the smoke into the enemy rear. The 
  sound also cause damadges to enemy unprotected.

The 34rd LEgion suddenly stand up and open up several hundred high power 
  search light into the face of the CDU force with their night vision 
  equipment. They infentry charged forward with gun balsting. They intend to 
  take advantge of the enemy who are inconvinent by their own cleverness.

A speeder bike is hit and burst into flames by a talented marksman of the CDU 
  Rangers it would appear, as the bike slams into the wall and although it is 
  obvious who is taking the most casualties here, it is also obvious who is 
  designed to use this to their tactical advantage in battle. General Veers 
  understands this from atop the bridge in Blizzard 1 but says nothing. 
  Nodding absently to Ken his attention is fixed on the many and various 
  readouts before him. The advance continuing, the General speaks into his com 
  device as an adjacent walker takes a heavy hit that leaves a large black 
  scar and rather prominent indentation, "105th target those Hammerhead 
  tanks." His voice is cold and surgical, and if there is any adrenaline then 
  he does not betray it.

As a Stormtrooper callously shoots a running child, the screams of the child 
  abruptly cut shot in the chaos. Commander Calder swerves in the direction 
  and shoots down the stormtrooper. The bright lights was nothing, considering 
  the night vision goggles were able to compensate for that effect, giving the 
  marines a relatively clear vision. She watches the advancing Imperial forces 
  for a second as though contemplating her decision before she comms in to the 
  Marines, signalling for the front line to remain and the back line to 
  retreat, "Take your squandron and retreat one south. I repeat retreat one 
  south." She nods towards Gunny Sung who seems to be acting oodly, "Prepare 
  heavy artillery and rocket launchers. Out front now." She states coldly as 
  her intention convey to the rest of the front line of CDU marines. Working 
  with great speed, the frontline of marines worked the shells into the rocket 
  launchers. A signal goes down as the backfire jerks back some of the marines 
  they fire the rockets, aiming all the rockets onto the bridge.

The company of Hammerhead tanks being fired upon returns fire promptly at its 
  attackers. The speederbikes and E-Webs don't seem to be too much of a 
  problem, and a number of the mentioned units soon stop checking in. The 
  AT-STs and AT-ATs are a bit of a problem though. Three AT-STs fall to enemy 
  fire. In one platoon of four tanks, the problem is made clear as an AT-AT 
  crushes a tank with its armored foot. The three remaining tanks shoot back, 
  crippling one of the giant machines feet. The rest of the company retreats 
  southward, turrents towards the north and still firing as they retreat 
  south. Perfect example of a fighting retreat. After taking many Imperial 
  speederbikes and several AT-STs, and one AT-AT down, they leave the 
  effective laser range. They each shoot off a single missile towards the 
  Imperial forces, effectively destroying seven more AT-STs and one AT-AT.

STARFIGHTER: SubPro-CDMC Harpoon -- Royal 5 is unaffected by the Imperial 
  ingenuity, his cockpit canopy designed to shield his eyes from the bright 
  flashes of starfighters exploding in space. With Royal 6 following just off 
  his port wing, Royal 5 hurtles back towards the Command AT-AT, trying to 
  take out the brain of this Imperial beast. Still jinking and twisting like a 
  greased Hutt, the Harpoon shudders and shakes from near misses and 
  concussive bursts of Imperial ground fire. The target, Veer's Command 
  vehicle, gets closer and closer to two intrepid Caspar fighters as they 
  vector in, their launchers waiting for the tone of a good missile lock. 
  Again using the general broadcast frequency, Royal 5's pilot says grimly 
  "Make this one count Royal 6...." No sooner do the words leave his mouth 
  than Royal 5 erupts into a ball of flame as the sheer volume of Imperial 
  fire takes it's toll and hits home. Royal 5's scream if agony is heard for a 
  millisecond before the transmission is suddenly cut off. Royal 5 is all that 
  remains of the defending fighters now, and continues to streak towards 
  Veers, it's pilot waiting for the last moment to take the invader out. Over 
  the comm the youthful pilot says in a grimly satisfied voice "Time to die, 
  Imperial" spitting out missiles as his own bird is hammered by the AT-STs 
  defending the behemoth. Trailing dense black smoke, the Harpoon struggles to 
  stay aloft, one engine on fire and the other flaring intermittently. Alas, 
  the missiles fired are off target, their trajectory skewed by the sudden 
  lurch of the fighter-bomber as it is mortally hit. The armoured vehicle 
  besides Veers craft blows itself to pieces and the second missile merely 
  scatters a concentration of Stormtroopers. Royal 5 begins its rapid descent 
  behind Imperial lines, it's nose vainly trying to rise before it plows into 
  the ground to slide to a smoking, shattered halt.

_Guard your elders and children well / Send these bastards back to hell! / 
  We'll teach them the ways of war / They won't come here any more / Use your 
  blaster, use your head / Fight till everyone is dead / Raise the flag up to 
  the sky / How many of them can we make die?!_
Shenner doesn't know quite when the lyrics to the "March of Tanaab" start 
  sounding off in the back of her mind, complete with the sounds of her 
  band-mates' instruments laying down the pounding martial rhythm -- including 
  the drums of Loren Jarnes, now serving in another platoon of the CDU ground 
  forces -- and their voices backing up her own in piercing chorus, including 
  that of Rekkie Sheldon. The now _dead_ Rekkie Sheldon. Shenner's rifle 
  blasts out a fatal rhythm over the top of this internal song of war, and 
  it's because of the passing at the collective hands of the Empire of one of 
  the few people in the galaxy she calls friend that the musician in soldier's 
  garb and gear applies herself with vicious intent to shooting any 
  white-armored figures in her line of sight. Never mind military training. 
  Never mind whether she has no 'official' combat experience. Never mind that 
  she isn't native to Caspar and that she's spent a good chunk of her life 
  hiding out from the Empire on the world on which she was actually born. She 
  has declared this war _hers_. _This is for Caspar, you sons of bitches. This 
  is for -Rekkie-._
Only when Calder's order is directed her way does a portion of her attention 
  alert her: look sharp, street rat, she's talking to _you_! "You heard the 
  lady!" she bellows. A singer's lungs lend a credible amount of force to the 
  call, and if eyebrows go up again at the fact that that growled command from 
  'Sung' is _not_ delivered in Sergeant Sung's proper voice, it's impossible 
  to tell under the helmets and visors that shield the faces of the CDU 
  Marines. The girl in Sung's uniform and several of the soldiers around her 
  scramble for their missile launchers... and Shenner is only a fraction 
  slower than one of the seasoned veterans of the platoon, as she deliberately 
  pauses a heartbeat to see what _he_ does before she leaps into place with 
  her rifle to give him cover fire while he sends rockets snarling forth into 
  the fray.

Devyn runs to the rapidly retreating line. His squad comes skidding to a halt 
  as the full scene unfolds about them. Stopping a retreating soldier, he 
  asks. "What's going on? Why are we retreating?" The Private hems and haws a 
  little bit before running south. Devyn waves his men to move to the 
  southeast and try to hold the stormtroopers as the artillery fires.

Many times in Caspar had she seen such a scene, children being taken advantage 
  of. She has always pride herself to be a defender of children. The sight of 
  the callous killing of the Imperial redden the haze in front of her eyes as 
  she merticulously prepares her launcher for the assult. Rage boils up in her 
  as she fires a rocket in the direction of the advancing troop and quickly 
  slams another in her launcher and fires again. LCP Whitney was forcefully 
  pulled away as the CDU start to retreat, Calder's voice ringing in her ears, 
  "We'll get those bastards later, Let's go!"

Rodo looks towards the group of troopers around him. "Alright you heard the 
  commander. Fall back!" He continues to fire his bi-polar towards the ST's 
  which are advancing. He stops firing for a brief moment, and runs to the 
  rest of his group of troopers. Once he reaches them, he turns around and 
  fires towards the ST's again. He stops firing for a brief second to reload, 
  then fire some more before heading south with the rest of the Marines.

The well-trained marines merticulously filed back into the area. Their 
  blasters were still firing upon the advancing Imperial forces as they 
  backpedalled. The front flank of the marines suffered losses as heavy fire 
  from an AT-ST took out a couple of them. The remaining hammerhead tanks 
  continue to plod backwards into the area as they resumed their positions. 
  The CDU marines were joined by the contingency forces made up of a few 
  civilians and citizens as they too came in to join the well-experience 
  soldiers. This time , it was fight to survive as they watch their families, 
  their friends, their children being systematically eliminated by the 
  Imperial forces as though they were bugs.

STARFIGHTER: SubPro-CDMC Harpoon -- Royal 5 settles to a halt, it's 
  undercarriage buckled, it's wings smashed and bent. Only it's repulsors 
  saved it from disintegrating as it landed. The cracked cockpit fills with 
  smoke as the aircraft begins to burn though, it's ruptured fuel tanks making 
  the bird blaze away. The pilot seems to be trying to get out of the 
  deathtrap, but seems to be having trouble opening the twisted cockpit.

Rodo continues to fire, at the advancing Imperial forces. He takes up position 
  behind the side of a building, as many of the other marines do. He hooks up 
  a cable to the scope on his carbine, and pulls down a visor. He holds the 
  carbine to the edge of the wall, and starts to fire having fairly good 
  accuracy, as he shoots towards the ST's.

Whitney is jerked back to the ground as she is dumped unceremoniously by the 
  marine that has held onto her, the marine states clearly, "Control yourself 
  Lance Corporal, we need everybody to be in control..." and his words were 
  abruptly cut off as fire from a StormTrooper effectively takes off his 
  head. She looks around and scampers to the back.

The armored figure comes to Rodo's side using its maneuvering jets. From the 
  voice emitters come the words, "Hey there sir," in a suprisingly calm voice 
  which preceeds the launch of a fragmentation grenade into the mist of the 
  stormtroopers. Before the smoke clears, the carbine attatched to the suit's 
  hand starts chattering, pouring rounds into the Imperial forces. Raj soon 
  ducks down as beam comes near, passing just over his head. Raj then says to 
  Rodo, "Sir, our boys our scattered all over hell and one squad is on the 
  verge of being overrun completely. We've got bad losses, Slater and Vryce 
  are both dead. Lindz wasn't watching and a sniper got him. Orders, sir?" An 
  Imperial shell bursts nearby and Raj more or less dumps them both into a 
  nearby foxhole.

Clock Tower and its surrounding buildings might as well be a beacon in the 
  night for the TIE Interceptor Squadron, Iscariot. Its wing of four fighters 
  pierce the sky with green fire, shattering the surface of the bell tower 
  before peeling off and circling for another attack run. Although the tower 
  itself has no tactical purposes, it will be no doubt, a demoralising attack 
  on the citizens below. A stray shot burns through the solar wing of the 
  port Tie in the lead group and with its stabilisers stricken, the fighter 
  loses altitude and gaining, it seems, endless barrages of small arms fire 
  for its trouble. With impassiveness only instilled into the pilots of the 
  Imperial Navy, the other three TIEs continue with their mission as the 
  dying interceptor plunges from the sky from another blast that pieces the 
  cockpit. Spiralling down with the wail of a banshee, the pilot, if out of 
  supreme control or reflexes from a corpse, pushes the joystick forward, 
  into a column of tanks. Above the resulting fire and flame, the three 
  remaining TIEs form an echelon left formation as a Harpoon fighter lands 
  near by. Streamlining into line astern formation, the TIES begin their 
  deadly strafing run on the downed CDU Starfighter.

Ken listens to the battle reports and frowns, "Damne those rebels. They cost 
  us too much for the fun," He turn to Veers, "General, hold your troops 
  back. The enemy no longer get much of Air cover. I will order an all out 
  attack by the fighters. We will take out their Tank and heavy equipment 
  first. Then the All Terran Vechile can come in and saughter the infentry." 
  He then turns and give the order for the fighter to attack.

General Veers stands above in his Walker watching quietly the action below. 
  Momentarily, a flash of light brightens the sky in front of him and a 
  fighter squadron make an attack on his Walker squadron resulting in the 
  destruction of two fighters and the irreperable damage of the adjacent 
  walker. Watching quietly the General watches intently, hands behind his 
  back, only the deathly white of his knuckles behind his back betraying the 
  anger at the loss of his fallen comrades. Straightening he pulls down the 
  gunnery scope from above his command chair and squints into it his face now 
  wearing a significantly more angered expression. Looking through the scope 
  his aim comes to rest on a n enemy fighter meandering it's way through the 
  barrage of blaster fire at crackneck speed. Without a moment of hesitation 
  he quickly targets and says "Fire" dryly to his gunner as he sends two 
  bolts hurtling towards a target that they manage to find and obliterate in 
  a carcophony of light and sound. The ship explodes immeadiately taking it's 
  valiant pilot with it. Shifting his eyes to outside the command module the 
  General watches expressionlessly, his head tilted back in an 'I ain't going 
  out like that' manner

As this occurs the Imperial advance operates concurrently as the battle below 
  rages, a hideous mix of armor white, camoflague green, fire glow and 
  charcoal black, explosions take place all around now as the battle 
  continues unrestrainedly. The landscape now is as all before it, broken, 
  heavily damaged buildings with walls missing, trees but blackened stumps 
  and the ground littered with shrapnel and the dead. This once beautiful 
  sector has been reduced to ruins, but this is obviously not a deterent to 
  the relentless Imperial war machine.

the The 43rd Legions was already with in range of the CDU troops. But they 
  suddenly stoped their advance and in a dew places even pulled back a little 
  in a few places. They starts to lie down covering fire to force the CDU 
  troops from raise their head.

STARFIGHTER: SubPro-CDMC Harpoon -- Royal 5 shudders and shakes as the green 
  bolts fired from the TIEs begin to strike it and the ground around it. As 
  the flames flare even more brightly around the stricken craft, the canopy 
  burts open and up as the pilot decides to risk ejecting. Seconds later the 
  TIEs hit the crafts remaining missiles and what's left of the fighter 
  explodes with a horrifically loud report. The pilot's ejection seat arcs 
  upwards over the battlefield, before gently dropping itself and it's 
  motionless, smouldering occupant to the questionable safety of the 
  battlefield again

Many Stormtroopers fall while crossing the bridge as Casparian artillery is 
  fired into their ranks. The Legion appears to at last be taking 
  "significant losses", although the phrase is practically unknown in the 
  Imperial ranks. None the less, the troopers in the 3rd Legion do not pause 
  in their march but instead focus more fire on the heavier weapons as the 
  front lines of the troops finally reach the opposite side of the bridge. 
  The Legion follows after the retreating defense forces into a new section 
  of town and continues to destroy mercifully. The fierceness of their fire 
  seems to increase as the goal of the attack force reaches closer to its 
  completion.

ST 10th Legion increases the rate of fire as the starfighter bursts into 
  flames. Several troopers turn their fire on the ejection seat, firing 
  relentlessly. The rest of them continue to lay bolt after bolt into the CDU 
  troops.

Daxin fires several shots into the frey and then moves to the front of his 
  legion and begins to direct some of his own blaster fire to the newly 
  ejected pilot of the starfighter. After that he turns his attention back to 
  the Caspar troops.

the Scimitar is coming. This time they get compnays. Hundreds upone hudreds 
  of Imperial fighters and bombers fall down upon the CDU forces as ravens 
  upon dead meat. Their main targets are the tank and other heavy support 
  weapons the CDU had left. A rain of missiles and blaster come before them 
  as they waves in clock screw and firing none stop at their target. A few 
  fighters fall and a couple more destroyed by friendly fire. But the vast 
  majority of them get throught to the enemy and hammered their target again 
  and again. The CDU tanks and artillery shakes like trees in a typone vianly 
  seeking to save themselves. But there is no escape as first one by one then 
  group by group of CDU's heavy armoer and artillery are blown up. The TIEs 
  left the battlefield as the grasshappers left the farmland. Behind them is 
  nothing but burned out steel and the moans of dying people.

A squad of faceless Stormtroopers detatch from the main group. Blasters in 
  hand, and running as quickly as possible they run to cover behind a once 
  beautiful but not mostly demolished buidling, led by their Seargent 
  distinguished by the recognizable orange leader sash. Motioning the men 
  with a series of open handed signals known only by members of the group, 
  the men fall to ground and lay a cover fire for a pair of Stormtroopers 
  that run out of cover and dodge blaster bolts and grenade explosions all 
  around them to capture and badly wounded Dayth. This is alot like training. 
  Grabbing him they drag him out of the wreckage and halfway to cover before 
  one of the troopers is hit and crumples to the ground with a groan. Most 
  observers would wonder why all the trouble to capture this man while so may 
  have been killed. He must be of some importance. The squad hold their 
  position as their leader initates a dialogue with his commanders.

Commander Calder is observing the scene closely to the front, using 
  binoculars for a not so obvious reason. She only needs to listen to the 
  radio to hear the reports of units being overrun. Some units aren't 
  checking in at all. Then a sound comes from the radio near her. It is 
  Imperially accented basic, probably from a captured radio. The Imp says, 
  "Lieutenant Reese wishes to tell you that he cannot currently report." A 
  shot is heard in the background a Calder tightens her grip on the radio and 
  says defiantly back into it, "After this war is over, the only place 
  Imperial accents will be heard in is hell." She swivels towards her ops 
  officer and says, "Tell all units to withdraw, but let's make them pay for each
  centimeter of our ground. I repeat, all units, fighting withdrawal!"

_Who the hell is--_

"That isn't Sergeant Sung!"

"Who the nine blazing--"

Startled reactions both thought and sharply hissed ripple across the rank and 
  file of Webb's platoon as it begins to sink in that the slender figure 
  wearing Sung's field gear is _not_ the person to whom it was assigned. She 
  doesn't move quite like Sung, and she undeniably does not talk like her. 
  Only the fact that this interloper in the platoon's midst is wielding and 
  firing her blaster rifle with apparent deadly accuracy, once or twice 
  scoring direct hits on the oncoming enemy... and the fact that this is war, 
  these are soldiers, and there is absolutely _no time_ to confront the 
  stranger... prevent any of the ground troops immediately nearest Shenneret 
  Veery from getting in the way of her and her targets.

Behind enemy lines presents all sorts of dangers, but, on the other hand, 
  Webb is now looking at a lot of rear echelon Imperial personnel, and the 
  backs of the front echelons as his tiny element which got seperated from 
  the rest of the recon platoon 'advances' southwards, pausing occasionally 
  when confronted by a 'prime target'... delicate communications arrays on 
  command vehicles, Imperial officers who dare to ride unbuttoned in their 
  vehicles, or who find themselves exposed to the fire which comes from 
  unexpected angles. His element is actually able to annihiliate an entire 
  platoon as it rushes up to join the fray... over all of the blaster fire, a 
  well placed shot to the unlucky ST at the tail end of the line easily went 
  un-noticed, until the point man was also the 'tail end Charlie' of the 
  formation. He had been homing on Reese's com-signal, while keeping his own 
  transmissions silent, or low-powered as possible to avoid interception. 
  Now, as he hears the Imperial officer reporting Lt. Reese's demise, he has 
  finally gotten a fix upon Reese's position. He can see the ST officer 
  speaking into the dead Marine's comlink... through the crosshairs of the 
  scope on his E-11 of course. Not bothering to dwell upon Reese's apparent 
  demise, he takes the shot himself, from the concealment of the crumbled 
  remains of an old stone building... While the comlink is still open, the 
  ST's leg vanishes in a puff of red, leaving him standing there awkwardly 
  grasping the comset, before Webb all too casually plucks off an arm with 
  his next shot, then places a third straight through the ST's stomach, 
  finally knocking the man down, leaving him screaming into to both the CDU 
  comchannel, and into whatever Imperial channel the man may have had open.

A company of hammerheads is left untouched by the airstrikes, due to the fact 
  the company is very well camoflauged. Two AT-STs come near their positions, 
  still unaware of their presence...And die. The lead AT-ST is catches the 
  full force of a dozen blasts and is killed. The second is looking for the 
  source of the sudden assault, more of an ambush. While the head is 
  traversing, it dies too. Ten bursts hit it, followed by two more. Both 
  AT-STs are down, and the Hammerhead company is in the midst of the Imperial 
  formation. Imperial artillery unwisely fires four shots...Into the midst of 
  their own forces. STs fall due to their own artillery fire. The Hammerheads 
  are untouched and start laying destruction into the Imperial formation 
  while fighting for a way out. Small arms fire clatters against the tanks to 
  no avail. Soon, one Hammerhead dies falling to an Imperial bomber. The same 
  Imperial bomber soon explodes, hit by several Hammerheads. They continue to 
  fight for a way out, running over hundreds of Imperial troops in the 
  process.

In the back of her mind, Shenner notes the reactions of her temporary 
  comrades-in-arms, and a small voice of reason points out dryly, _Street 
  rat, you are going to be in -such- trouble!_ But for the time being, she 
  doesn't care. Her world has narrowed down to a simple, repeating rhythm of 
  aim and shoot, aim and shoot, her rifle spewing forth accented blasts 
  against the ominous earth-rattling percussion of the Imperial walkers. When 
  the orders come down to fall back she does so, but each centimeter of 
  ground she yields is only under duress -- and further rounds of fire from 
  the gun gripped firmly in her musician's hands.

Elly is next to Webb behind the rubble looking around behind the sight of her 
  shotgun. A small dot is on the hud of her helmet where the barrel of her 
  AA-8 is pointed. She looks around the scene carefully seeing if she can 
  spot any dangers or possible oppertunities. After scanning around for a few 
  moments she says quietly to Webb, "Sir, I think I've spotted one one of the 
  leader types, the orange sash," the dot on in the hud pointed right at his 
  back, near where the heart would be.

Rodo lands in the foxhole with Raj on top of him. He pushes the Sergeant off 
  "You alright?" he asks. Using the scope which is attatched to helmet Rand 
  checks the area around the foxhole. He turns to the Sergeant "I think we 
  better move back, alert the rest of the team to fall back." Checking one 
  more time to see if there is any ST around, he says "Fal back Sergeant, 
  I'll give you cover fire then I'll be on my way back." He waits for Raj to 
  get up and go, before leaving.

Raj nods to Rodo. He jets out of the hole, shooting back occasionally. He 
  says through his comlink, "Fall back. Mantain resistance, though." He heads 
  back, drops behind a large rock, and peeks around the rock waiting for Rodo 
  to come. A target comes up through his helmet. Raj fires a three shot 
  burst, dropping it. The dead ST falls into Rodo's hole.

[And soon...]

After much effort, one of the Imperial invasion corridors successfully pushes 
  all of the way towards Trinumvira base, though several bypassed Marine 
  units still harrass their rear elements, taking advantage of their superior 
  mobility to do hit and run raids on the rear of the Imperial forces as 
  their forces build for the attack upon Trinumvira. The fortified bluff's 
  ruggedness seems to be accented by the fact that a 500 metre thick ring of 
  earth has been flattened out on all sides, save for the side which faces 
  the ocean. This ring of flattened earth has been kept quite deliberately 
  free of heavy foiliage of any kind... the grass is perhaps 15 cm deep at 
  the most, and save for the odd shrubbery, this patch is quite bare... The 
  reason for this becomes readily apparent as soon as the first Imperial 
  forces cross into this field. This ring is an area which the base's 
  defenders can easily fire on from the cover of the bluff, while the enemy 
  is deprived of cover for its own advance. Heavy fire of all kinds from the 
  bluff begins to erupt almost immediately as the first Imperial Forces 
  advance into view. Heavy blaster cannons, concussion missile artillery, 
  light automatic fire, and even AAA guns smash into the Imperial wave. The 
  defenders are patient enough to wait until the bulk of the advance armor 
  elements are halfway through the kill zone before the anti-armor mines 
  begin to activate. The mines seem to have a taste for walkers of all sorts, 
  as they sniff for the IR and seismic signatures of their prey crossing 
  overhead, at which point the mine 'detonates' launching an ion blast 
  straight up into the belly of the walker. Meanwhile, Wraith gunships 
  prowling among the bluff unmask briefly to snap of shots into the main 
  Imperial advance, before slipping back into defilade.

There is a faint buzzing in the background, like Alderaanian locusts during 
  harvest season. The buzz grows slightly louder, and louder still until it 
  is a very ominous hum. When it feels as if the buzz cannot grow louder, 
  finally the dam bursts. Over the ridge towards the main landing zone for 
  the Imperial Army spews forth wave after wave of Imperial Speeder Bike 
  pilots. The cavalry has arrived. Nearly one hundred fifty tiny bikes zoom 
  over the hill and into the streets, and above the buildings of the city. 
  They zoom over the barriers to Triunmvera base, firing at various targets 
  and causing general havoc. Blaster fire spews from their cannons mounted 
  under their bellies. The platoon bypasses most of the external defenses of 
  the base, losing only one bike to retalitory fire. Mines, Schmimes, the 
  platoon seems to say as they're impervious to the 'I'll take the highroad' 
  tactics of the bases defenders. In the lead is Lieutenant Garret Fife, a 
  few legs ahead of his compatriots. He squeezes the trigger of his bike, and 
  he hits a medium sized building, shattering hundreds of square feet of 
  glass. Shards of glass rain down on Casparian Defense Force troops, killing 
  three and injuring about seven.
In fact, not a single anti-armor mine detonates for the scout bikes... they 
  are looking for bigger game.

Daxin runs in at full speed, leading a squad he picked from the 10th Legion, 
  leaving the rest of the troops outside to watch the door. He directs his 
  squad to continue firing on the retreating Capspar marines. Suddenly, there 
  is an explosion of glass overhead that is defelcted harlessly by their 
  armor. Daxin yells, "Keep pressing, and watch the crossfire from those 
  bikes!!" He takes careful aim at one of the foremost troopers and depresses 
  his firing stud with deadly precsion, droping the troop where he stood.

Following the retreating Casperian forces, the 3rd Legion slows its advance 
  slightly as it nears the base as heavy losses begin to show in their ranks. 
  The Stormtroopers continue to fire while marching but the shots are a bit 
  more accurate and are fired less often; the troopers are seemingly starting 
  to take their time with their attacks. With the recent reinforcements via 
  Imperial Speederbikes boosting the attack force's numbers, the 3rd Legion 
  Stormtroopers continue to march forward directly into the Casparian 
  defenses, annihilating all which stand between them and the base.

One Stormtrooper, indecipherable from the rest save for extensively scorched 
  armor and slightly crushed helmet, fires along with his comrades but with 
  more accuracy and power than most. The trooper wields a ST-II and he uses 
  it to blast any hostiles that come into view. He seems to have had a little 
  more training than the rest of the men in his Legion but he remains in 
  formation and so is hard to pick out.

It appears much of the military philosophies of the Imperial Navy were taken 
  from the Imperial Army. Overwhelming the enemy seems to be a practice the 
  Army has perfected, as the stormtroopers and speeder bikes make short work 
  of a small ammo dump. Ammo - being an explosive - tends to burn. And burn 
  it does. A miniature mushroom cloud thirty meters tall dominates the backarea
  of the bases as laser fire from a speeder bike incinerates it.

The 43rd Legion charges forward as One. They finaly break their long silence 
  and yelled the Battle Cry and throw themselves upon the defense of the CDU. 
  Waves of them fall down before the deadly fire of the CDU defense. But 
  alway waves replaced them. And their death is not wihtout price. Here and 
  there CDU's defenders fall down. Here and there, fix defense installation 
  get blow up by imperial engineer. But defender is not slacking off either. 
  They killed and kill, screeming at the waves of white death dear the 
  imperials to kill them. The imperials are dying but their Will can not be 
  broken. A Storm Trooper command was blown up. The helmed fall off and show 
  a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair. Then she vanishes amount the 
  sea of death. The Imperials are crazied now. They had surffered so much 
  lose already. Anything less than Total Victory is Unacceptable. They 
  carrried their attack forward with their blast, their knifes and thir fist. 
  Wave after wave after wave...

In a display of arrogance tinged confidence more than anything else, General 
  Veers himself strides in from a safe distance, a large, undamaged squad of 
  troopers in tow that you would consider his personal guard. They are bent 
  on protecting him and betray this through the way they each watch his every 
  move through the lenses of their unpersonifiable helmets. The General is 
  tapped into a communication system and his every mannerism seems to express 
  the faith he has in his men to complete the mission. Dressed in spotless 
  grey assault armor designed for heavy protection, his hair has not even 
  been ruffled, a sweat not even broken. One knee on the blackened ground, 
  and his left hand at his ear assisting the communication unit he is using, 
  he seems to be relaying information to the troops themselves. A true 
  strategist...on the ground with his men! He watches with wary eyes the 
  action going on around him, pausing momentarily, eyebrow cocked as the 
  chared remains of a CDU Ranger hit the ground with a thud meters from where 
  he is standing. The body, thrown from the wreckage of a vehicle of some 
  sort, lies on the ground motionless, a metaphor, Veers quietly thinks to 
  himself, for the entire CDU.

Ken walks behind Veers with his onw guard. Those guards unlike the rest 
  Imperial Forces are black clayed Naval Troopers instead of Storm Troopers. 
  They made a stark contraction in the sea of white. Ken shakes his head at 
  the dead and the dying all around him. He turns to his aide, "The battle is 
  almost finished. Inform the fleet to be ready for casaulties. I want 
  medical teams get down here ASAP."

'Those who are too eager to die can be easily killed', echoes in Webb's mind 
  over and over as he watches the Imperial wave surge forth. The tiny force 
  that he'd lead through from the rear has since grown in strength as he 
  first met up with the survivors from Lt. Reese's unit, and several others, 
  growing first into a full platoon, then easily into a Company, then bigger 
  still as his forces met up with several platoons from the Union Dragoons. 
  After that, they found themselves racing back towards Trinumvira with 
  Calder's command, in many cases parallelling the enemy advance that had 
  broken through and surged past them. Thankfully, a Hammerhead is able to 
  outrun a walker, and the Caspian forces, with the aid of a few delaying 
  actions, were able to make it to Trinumvira just ahead of the Imperial 
  forces. The bluffs provide more than adequate protection for Caspian 
  troops... bunkers for infantry, prepared firing positions for tanks, and 
  thick permacrete barriers capable of shrugging off many heavy weapon blasts 
  before finally buckling. Here the CDU shall show its own comparative 
  advantage. While the Empire has single minded determination, the CDU has 
  adaptability on its side. After plan A, there's always plan B, then plan C, 
  then... IMPROVISE! When things turn desperate, the Empire launches suicidal 
  charges... Marines simply fight smarter. The bluff does afford some room to 
  evade. Webb himself can be found upon the ledges overlooking the the slit 
  carved deep into the bluffs, alongside McFarlane and Shenner and Whitney 
  and others. He personally fires into the horde of advancing speederbikes... 
  though doubtlessly they probably don't want to get to the high ground. 
  After all, as nimble as the little craft may be, sitting atop the bluff 
  with many Wraiths buzzing about would be a horribly suicidal place to make 
  a last stand. Not that most are getting up there anyways. Instead, ambush 
  is the rule... directional mines spit fans of steel shrapnel, cutting away 
  whole arcs of speederbikes, while the Hammerheads that he came back to base 
  with fire volleys of blaster fire and concussion missiles into the 
  crumbling armor as it stumbles and falls amidst the field of antiarmor 
  mines. Command elements are the most tempting targets, for snipers, for 
  autoblaster teams, for any weapon that can be trained upon the enemy. Webb 
  himself uses his customized E-11 to good effect in this role... if it has 
  an orange sash, it dies... well, actually, he's taken a preference towards 
  shooting to wound lately. It is, after all, more costly upon the Imperial 
  logistics train, and it tends to bring forth enemy medics into target 
  range. There is cover out in the kill zone now... consisting of the 
  shredded hulks of walkers, the tattered remains of ST's. And there is, of 
  course, retreat.

The LPC moves swiftly to join the other engineers. Under the cover from
  the heavy assult from the base, the engineers worked swiftly as Whitney
  counts under her breath, "10..." swifting whipping out hanging from her
  waist, "8.." arming them and laying them down as she moves on swiftly
  to the next position. By the time she has counted down to 0, the efficient
  engineers had placed a whole array of anti-armor mines to provide a
  second land of defense. They were not without casualties as blaster fire
  clips a few of them. Finishing, the team moves off in the direction of the
  base for cover, that's if the Imperial forces are able to bypass the thick
  security of Triumnvera. The Marines never leave anything to chance.

_Blasters flash, the cannons swing / Shining armor's piercing ring / Skimmers 
  race with an ion shield / Fight those bastards till they yield! / Fight in 
  squads or fight alone / Fight to keep this world your own! / Sound the 
  klaxon, call the cry / How many of them can we make die?!_

And Shenner thought Mandalore was bad. A number of threats to her life 
  occurred on Mandalore, but not a one of them was quite on par with the 
  might of the Imperial Army. Pressed up shoulder to shoulder with Webb's 
  platoon, the bard-turned-soldier, her heart racing on adrenaline and 
  passion, keeps muttersinging her personal battle cry under her breath as 
  she aims and shoots, aims and shoots, aims and shoots, and pauses only long 
  enough to lob the occasional grenade or switch the power module on her 
  blaster rifle. Not even when she's knocked sideways by the tail end of a 
  nearby explosion is she deterred... though when she gets up again, her grip 
  on her weapon shows signs of getting bloody.

Ken walks up toward Veers and whispers in his ear.

The Stormtroopers in the 3rd Legion continue to fight at full fury although 
  losses are definitely affecting their overall performance. The troopers 
  halt for a moment as enemy fire takes out a large amount of men in the 
  Legion. They regroup into a new, more compact formation and then continue 
  to march.

The Stormtrooper in heavily damaged armor fires a few more aimed shots at the 
  Casparian forces before he breaks off from the rest of his Legion. 
  Undetected by the other troopers around him, he takes a moment to check his 
  blaster rifle's charge and then moves quickly towards General Veers and his 
  escort. Any enemies that he finds between himself and the General are 
  swiftly cut down by blaster fire from his ST-II.

Tide in. Tide out. The waves of speeder bikes, led by Lieutenant Fife display a 
  massive shift of momentum. There blaster cannons still rage violently, 
  picking targets and putting them down. There numbers are cut in half 
  however, and it appears it is time to make a break for the sea. The ocean 
  beacons the speeder pilots who cut out, and swoop down and around the rocky 
  cliffs, making their way along the coast line north. On their way out, each 
  pilot takes a crack at someone or something.

Daxin orders his men to keep firing. AS some of his men have been killed, 
  they regroup to form a more cohesive unit. They seem to be starting to 
  conserve balster charges now, but that start to make each shot count, 
  cutting down a marine with each deadly red bolt. He places his left hand to 
  his ear to sort out comm static, nods quickly and takes a few well aimed 
  shots of his own. Some of his men move back to strengthen Veers' troops.

The General turns to Ken, regarding him quietly for a moment before looking 
  up at the indomitable mountainside and nodding a silent permissive 
  understanding. Bringing himself to his feet, and brushing himself down 
  briskly, Veers seemingly oblivious to the continious explosions all around 
  is in his element -in battle-. Anyone within spitting distance can see the 
  wheels of complex thought turning inside the Generals head, the 
  microdecisions being made for a quick moment before looking directly into 
  the eyes of Ken he offers in a low voice tinged with a Coruscanti accent 
  "Have your men wipe this place from the earth." It is obvious through his 
  demeanor that the General does not like to compromise, but even the great 
  Veers knows when enough is enough, when tactical single-mindedness becomes 
  all out pyrric bloodlust. Turning back to regard the mountain coldy he 
  continues with a clinical death knell "Kill them all."

Retreating over the ocean is actually an incredibly nasty option for the 
  speederbikes... it requires plumetting over a sheer cliff, and hoping like 
  hell that the repulsorlifts kick in again before the speeder hits waves or 
  rock. Many don't manage the dive properly. As the formation retreats out 
  over the water, a pair of Wraith airspeeders nimbly slips down from the 
  bluffs, heading off into wavetop flight, liesurely jinking back and forth 
  as they hammer the retreating speederbikes, until they are forces to 
  scatter. The shark's teeth on the side's of the speeders is at this moment 
  a very good analogy.

Webb naturally conserves shots, taking the attitude of the executioner, 
  coldly firing single aimed shots, cutting down everything missed by the 
  repeaters that are still raking over the kill zones, tearing up earth and 
  flesh. Webb seems to have a thing for stomach wounds... which aren't 
  instantly lethal like his previously characteristic throat shots, but 
  instead leave the enemy laying on the field, twitching extreme pain. In his 
  days as an NCO, he'd hit targets as far out as 1.3 km... almost three 
  quarters of a mile. Back when he was with Blake's fleet, rampaging among 
  the stars, he'd drop onto a planet, stalk an Imperial Battalion, or even a 
  regiment, locate its HQ Company... the memory drifts back into his mind as 
  he focusses his scope up Veers, of an Imperial Colonel named Voss. Voss 
  never knew he was out there... the Colonel had himself ordered the 
  execution of countless civilians who could not defend themselves. Webb's 
  conscience stayed clean when he pulled the trigger, and executed Voss from 
  another time zone. Now, his trigger finger is moving again, as Veers' image 
  resolves itself in his scope, amidst the swirl of heat contours in the air. 
  Finally, Webb lets off a single shot, reaching out across the killing 
  fields.

All Imperial Forces, Stormtroopers, Walkers, Speeder Bikes alike, disengaged 
  their attack. Bikes turn back, Walkers become stationary and Stormtroopers 
  stop firing all in unision unshering the first period of quiet in a long 
  time. The relative peace for many appears overbearing, and many troopers 
  don't seem to be able to expudiate the rush of adrenaline from their ears 
  and remain tense their guns trained on the mountain at large. For the 
  survivors of the conflict there has been a metamorphosis take place, boys 
  become men, men reduced to boys. While battle it is said brings out the 
  worst in man, it could also equally be argued that it brings out the best 
  in people. Camaradarie, reliance and trust in your fellow man. There is a 
  sense of weary victory sweeping over the battle field, but has the Empire 
  won. What remains of the earth is a scorched reminder of what a beautiful 
  place this once was, and what the ravages of war can bring so quickly on a 
  place that at one time appeared it would last for ever. Either way the 
  brave warriors of the Empire know that it is not over and remain wary 
  waiting for an opportunity to at last complete their regent given orders.

Meanwhile General Veers stands his ground, watching pensively up at the 
  mountain. Only a fool would interupt him now. Placing his hands behind his 
  back he watches quietly, before mysteriously sensing danger and ducking. 
  --Too late-- A bright, dagger sharp blast strikes the General in the arm, 
  sending him reeling back and down onto one knee in pain. Looking at the 
  ground blood can be seen oozing from his arm. He remains quiet. The legion 
  of Stormtroopers surrounding him open fire with a fury straight from hell 
  as if Webb had shot the Empire himself, but the sniper was long gone having 
  at least partially completed his mission. Veers struggles to his feet, 
  dismissing the aid for him guards and turns in a rare expression of anger, 
  heading back towards his walker, pushing medics off as he leaves. Anyone 
  acquanted with Veers, knows that the sniper has just signed his own death 
  warrant.

Ken takes a look at Veers but doesn't offer any help as he know the General 
  won't accept it. Instead he trast out his hand. A Naval Trooper immediatly 
  give Ken a sniper rifle of his own. Ken take the rife and aims at the CDU 
  foritfacation and opens fire twice in rapid succession. One unlucky soul 
  of CDU falls from their position to the ground blow dead before they hit the 
  dirt. None of them may be the sniper. But that teaches the CDU for attampt 
  on an imperial officer.

[With General Veers wounded, the Imperial forces take the opportunity to
 withdraw from the fight... but only far enough to keep the battle-weary CDU
 Marines cornered in the base into which they have retreated. To be
 continued...]