Fenn - Strike on Sudys - Part 1

Boots sinking into the grainy topsoil, a spray of debris up with each step, and not a sound to be had among all the usual nonsense. He breathed a sigh, unheard by the greater word in the confines of his helmet. Sudys Minor was by and large an uninhabited planetoid lacking in many of the comforts that civil life enjoyed. For one thing, there was no breathable atmosphere. Fenn could almost taste the moisture-laden air of home, the sterile white walls, the bomb drills. Simple things like that made a home a home, there was no doubt about it. He snorted at the thought of telling that to Kaandomu. The Bothan would've had some sly, half-insulting remark to add. For a Jedi he'd been colorful. For a friend he was remarkably dead. In many ways Fenn missed that man.

Fenn looked up, the back of a heavy-clad trooper in front of him. He knew his XO was behind him, further down the line. Eharl had concerns on CIS snipers, despite the optics that their friends up above were providing and the heavy, healthy fist that their turbolasers provided. Command comms had been quiet the whole trek. Eyes glanced up, up and out at the revealed vastness of space, at the uncounted legions of stars, at the Acclamator in holding station above them. Torrents and ARCs flitted about the warship in their formations, standing by for the assault. A glance at his HUD as the question came unbidden. They were on schedule. Good enough. A few more steps, his kama lifting up and down in shameless admiration of the low gravity.

Up and over a ridge and, down in the shallow bowl of rock and dust, was the encampment. Rally Point Besh was the only designation it'd garnered so far and as far as Fenn was concerned it'd be the only designation it would need to receive. If all went to plan, it wouldn't exist in two standard hours. Eight AT-TEs poised about one edge of the bowl, crews standing by for the last battalion to arrive, while a number of mortar emplacements stood by here and there. Infantry companies kept to themselves in clusters of bodies while, on the ridgeline of that bowl on the far end, Fenn could see sniper pairs and perimeter guards. It was all generally standard, practically a regulation affair considering there wasn't a worry on the Confederates leading a sallied attack. The column passed through a number of loose skeleton patrols, one nodding briefly to the Commander as he passed by, the markings on his pauldron saying he was "A" Battalion.

"Sir, the Major is up by Cage 1-1," came over local comms, a brief nod telling which AT-TE the trooper meant.

"Obliged, Corporal," came the instinctive response, the column soon breaking apart as Koth moved his companies out onto one side of the bowl, doubtless ringing out orders over closed battalion comms.

Fenn, his XO, and "D" CO, Pike, kept on their trek down to Cage 1-1. He picked up his pace as they moved down the lip of the bowl, dust flying up into the air and scattering about his midriff. The man could already see the semi-circle sheltered beside the combat walker, all of them standing up while one wielded his rifle with a bayonet attached in lieu of a stylus to scratch out the lines of advance. As he got closer, he slowed down.

"Ol'val, chumani," greeted one of the Majors, nodding his head upwards. Fenn knew the voice and words from anywhere; Sender was one of the few from the 44th Combat Engineers days.

"Ol'val. Loading masters had delays, but we are still on timeline. Now that the break's over, it's time to get down to work. I see our cartography problem's been fixed."

"Cage 1-1 and their rangefinder. Masters at navigation, all. Took a good cycle but yessir we got the crests and ridges. Axis of assault here, here, here, and here." He marked each line, with halts along ridgeline and in craters, and Fenn could see Aurabesh numbers with each line. "Alternating advances with sister battalions. Fire support from the Demagura is dialed in and mortars are standing by for walking barrages if we start hitting issues. Dust that fragged our sensors on landing with definitely disable theirs once the big guns start throwing it up into orbit."

"Magical. Questions, anyone?"

A pause. Fenn slowly looked about, nodding in satisfaction that there weren't any issues. "Outstanding. Assault in ten. Ol'val, min dul'skal, ahn guld domina."