Star Wars: Galaxy of Disharmony

Republic Acclamator-Class Cruiser Rising Dawn: Approaching unknown planet; 371 days after Battle of Geonosis

Silence.

That was all ARC Trooper Captain Leonis could hear within the privacy of his helmet. Noise cancelling technology along with other methods of hardening to prevent deafness after the concussion of heavy explosions all silenced the ordered chaos that surrounded him. Within the darkened hanger bay, his fellow clones, his brothers, moved with practiced purpose as they loaded up the LAAT/i gunships with all required supplies before loading themselves.

A few AT-TE walkers were loaded up and checked over to ensure they were fully locked into place while several of the small AT-RT walkers were loaded into the large tanks or a few LAAT/c vehicle transport gunships. Along with these, five AV-7 artillery cannons were loaded up. Anything that could not be loaded onto the gunships was locked into place to ensure survival after touchdown. As long as the ship survived the crash.

Helmet lamps crisscrossed the hanger as the clones moved. In the hanger were one thousand of Leonis’s brothers, all from the 22nd Defense Regiment. Five hundred from Mynock Battalion and five hundred from Nebray Battalion. All members of the 6th Negative Region Army, Black Sword Command. Like the other units from the Negative Region, the regiment had been shifted around from defense of their region to other duties, like exploration. The constant shifting to more active theaters or other missions where reserve units were perfect to task with left the region thinly defended and the units with varying numbers and a shifting command structure.

One example of the shifting command made his way over to Leonis. Commander Darren was the clone commander for Mynock and currently the only ranking officer of Captain or higher in the battalion. Nebray fared worse, having only a Major as their current commander, Major Atto. Neither battalion had a Jedi, or even one of the Padawans at that. They did at one time but the Jedi had been needed elsewhere. Of the total personnel on board Rising Dawn, crew and troopers, Captain Aldair was the only non-clone.

Movement crossed over Leonis’s helmet lamp, drawing his focus. He looked to see Commander Darren waving a hand to get his attention. Noting the indicator from his personal com, he silently cursed himself for allowing himself to become distracted and not notice something so simple. He could not allow distractions or miss anything. Next time could cost his life or that of one of his brothers. He blinked at the indicator on his HUD and Darren’s voice chimed in.

“You doing okay brother? You seem out of it.”

Leonis sighed. “I’m fine ner vod. Don’t worry about me.”

“No can do.”

Leonis had seen Darren’s profile. Moved around to a couple of theaters in the last year so an able veteran. He was trained by a Corillian sergeant and was always looking out for his brothers. His family values rivaled that of those trained by the Mandalorian sergeants and he never got on to his subordinate clones if they ever broke protocol and forgot to call him Sir or failed to come to attention and salute at his presence. Leonis inwardly cursed himself again for his incompetence. Not much of an elite soldier.

He turned to the commander and was about to come to attention and provide the delayed salute when he was stopped by Darren’s hand on his shoulder.

“Relax Captain,” Darren said, speaking the rank with a sarcastic tone and a laugh. The smile under his helmet was almost audible. “More pressing matters now. Remember?”

Another inward curse. “Sorry, Sir.” Thank the Force for the helmet hiding his embarrassment. That and the intensive training that helped him hide his emotions. Always so confident and fearless behind enemy lines or in a firefight. Why did he always fall apart around his brothers? Or was that it? They were his brothers more than his fellow soldiers.

An awkward silence fell as the two started towards the gunships which was quickly broken by Captain Aldair over the com. “Time to get those dropships off this tub!”

“Time to get this underway,” Darren said. The two looked at each other as they made their way to their gunships. “See you on the ground.”

Leonis kept silent, giving a nod and a quick salute instead. He needed to stay focused and was not going to flounder his interactions with his brother anymore. He hopped onto the gunship as the doors closed him in. Just before the doors had fully sealed, the hanger lit up with a bright flash emanating from the back of the hanger. Leonis knew the flash of explosives when he saw it.

“What happened?” he called over the com.

“Hanger door wouldn’t open without power so I improvised. Hope you don’t mind Captain.” Major Atto’s sarcasm and added emphasis to the rank seemed to reach through the com and cut at the ARC.

Leonis cut all coms and let himself voice a curse in privacy. “Shabla dinii!” When he switched coms back Aldair’s voice kicked in.

“Major, I appreciate the forward thinking but do me a favor and don’t destroy my ship. The planet already has priority there and I would like to keep it in as few pieces as possible.”

“Sorry, Sir,” Atto responded with poorly hidden sarcasm. “I’ll be sure to consult you next time.”

“Save it,” Aldair snapped. “You boys get moving.”

“Copy that!” Leonis said, cutting in before Atto could make any more remarks, and switched over to the pilot com channel. “Move out!”

“Alright guys,” the lead pilot called, “let’s get off this derelict! Detach and don’t hit anything on the way out. Form up on me when you exit.”

Leonis switched coms again as the gunship shuddered and moved towards the exit. “How are you and the rest of the bridge getting off, Captain?”

“Don’t worry about me, son,” Aldair said. “Just focus on getting your brothers to safety. See you on the ground.”

Leonis sighed and switched back to the pilot channel as the gunship descended out into space. He struggled to keep from fidgeting out of anxiety at standing around. The deck was dark except for the dim glow of the red internal lights. With the doors sealed, Leonis could only guess at what was happening outside. Once again, he was thrust into silence save for the calls of pilots. Confined. Still. Helpless. Useless. The so-called elite soldier was in the hands of the pilots. And he hated it.

As the pilots called out their ready status the lead gave the order to move into the formation Leonis had formulated. In the front, back, and sides of the formation would be the sixteen support gunships, gutted much like a vehicle transport but armed with heavier firepower. Something Leonis had to specially request as the 22nd had been denied starfighters. One never knew when air support would be needed. Given that the mission would be in uncharted territory, Command had been stingy in committing a fully armed force on a mission with a low likelihood of encountering Separatist forces.

The rest of the group was divided into small groups of four transports. Two troop transports, one supply transport, and one vehicle transport. The individual groups consisted of a variety of supplies and vehicles carried to allow for immediate deployment to set up defensive locations, begin reconnaissance, or begin search-and-rescue of the life pods and the few remaining crew aboard Rising Dawn. Command would be handed over to Commander Darren and Major Atto afterwards while Leonis worked with the reconnaissance teams.

The plan was to descend through the atmosphere as a group then split into deployments with the groups containing Darren and Atto keeping together to establish a command base. The recovery effort would follow then setup of an emergency beacon for rescue. In the past year, Leonis had always succeeded in his missions. He would not let this be his one blemish.

The shudder from heavy turbulence indicated that the flight group had hit the upper atmosphere. Leonis could practically feel his knuckles go white as he gripped the handle above. Heat began to build up inside as friction cooked the exterior of the gunship. The effects of the nebula must have had a small impact on the integrity of the heat shields. There were only a few gunships left on the ship but the ones in the flight group had been chosen as having the highest chance of survival on their own. That said, it seemed that the nebula had had a greater effect than previously thought.

Leonis never failed as a result of perfect planning, short notice or not, and practiced perfection. He hardly ever had to rely on luck. Now, luck was all he had. And it was being thoroughly tested.

Just as the lead pilot gave the ETA to the lower atmosphere, another pilot called out the first of their problems.

“She’s shaking too bad! I’m not sure if she’ll hold!” one of the pilots called.

“Keep it together!” the lead pilot responded. “Just a little further to go and we’ll be out of the worst of it!”

The decent through the atmosphere’s upper layers continued for several more agonizing minutes as a few pilots called out mounting issues. Ranging from minor power failure to sections of the gunship threatening to tear apart, the reports ate away at Leonis who could only sit, wait, and hope that they would survive and his gunship would not join the failing group. The lead pilot called out an updated ETA to the lower levels of the atmosphere. Less than a minute to go before the heaviest turbulence was over.

As if waiting for his cue, one of the escort pilots called out a new status. “Left wing is shaking too much! It’s not going to-” He was cut off by a violent wrenching noise and several emergency alarms. “Fierfek! Left wing is gone! I’m going down!”
A second later, the turbulence settled as the flight leveled out prompting Leonis to call to the deck Sergeant. “Open these windows!”

The window near him opened in time to watch the escort gunship careen to the planet as fire poured out of its side. He turned away, not wanting to watch the ship hit the ground in time to hear another pilot call out damage and watch an object fly passed the opposite side of his gunship.

“Tank didn’t take to kindly to the entry! It’s falling apart! The blasted thing is threatening to take the whole-” The transmission was cut short by a series of unidentifiable sounds. A couple of flaming objects flew passed Leonis’s gunship as he cried out for a report.

“What happened?”

“Gunship couldn’t hold together,” his pilot answered. “Whole thing fell apart! Took the larty with it!”

Before Leonis could respond another pilot called over. “Just lost power to engines! Stabilizers are non-functional!” Emergency alarms sounded over the com. “Poodoo! We’re going down! Repeat! We’re going down!”

Out the window Leonis watched as a transport gunship fell from the sky. A full load of troopers were onboard and now they were going to die from a system failure with no means to escape. He slammed his fist into the gunship’s door and cursed. So much going wrong and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The feeling of helplessness churned and tore at his gut. This wasn’t how any of them were supposed to die. Being shot down was one thing but this was different. His brothers’ lives were in danger and all he could do was sit and watch them fall to their death. Not much of an elite soldier at all to fail so spectacularly.

“Find somewhere to land! I don’t care where just get on the ground now!”

“Got a location! All gunships on me! Proceed to indicated rendezvous!”

The gunship dipped and dove for the ground. Once again, Leonis found himself in the hands of the pilot, unable to do anything. All he could do was hope that the remaining ships made it to the ground in one piece. Yet as if mocked by the universe, another pilot called out another issue.

“Engine’s acting up! Cooling systems malfunctioning! Trying to identify…Fier-”

The transmission cut out and the gunship lurched left, passing a black cloud of smoke and flaming debris. It was bad enough to watch yet another gunship fall apart but what really tore at Leonis was the sight of a couple of bodies amidst the wreckage. He found himself hoping that they had died in the explosion as a fall to the death was wrought with the helplessness he hated. To plummet to your death and all you could do was wait, helpless.

The lead pilot called out once more. “ETA to LZ is one minute! Hang tight! This will be a heavy landing!”

Yet even with the ground only a short stretch away, the gunship issues persisted. Two pilots called out that they were diving too hot. Out the opposite side, Leonis was able to watch as one hit dirt and vanished from sight as it skidded forward, carving up the ground. The other was cut off in another wash of static. Relief finally came as the gunship hit the ground with a thud, causing a short bounce before it settled.

Leonis didn’t even wait for the doors to gully open before pushing his way out. Around him, the gunships were setting down in the designated formations to take stock before moving on to their designated tasks. Given the series of disasters, that would take some time. No one wanted anymore brothers falling out of the sky like that.

Around Leonis, his group was prepping to move. The vehicle transport was offloading the four AT-RTs while thirty clones offloaded supplies and an additional six BARC speeder bikes. The others took position at the edge for defense, just in case.
The formation planned called for each group to land in small circles and form a makeshift command base. The command group in the center, defense groups with the artillery and tanks surrounding that, then the recon and search-and-rescue groups forming outposts on the edge. After set up, the outer groups would divide. Half would remain at the outpost consisting of one troop transport, the supply transport, and the vehicle transport. The rest would spread out and begin their task.
His com chimed as Major Atto called in. His usual sarcasm and immature attitude was replaced by shockingly stern and serious tone. “The command group is set up except for the transport with Commander Darren. From what we saw, he went down not far from your location. One of the last two gunships to fall. I’ve got things under control here, you go recover him. Let’s hope he survived.”

“Copy that.”

Leonis called out to two squads to begin checking the area of the closest gunships but a report from a sentry delayed his progress. “Sir! I have eyes one what appears to be the indigenous inhabitants. They look to be armed.”

Leonis gave another inward curse. More problems. It was to be expected though, just not so early. A massive flight group of military craft, with some falling from the sky, then, eventually, a massive starship crash landing. Whatever inhabitants lived on the planet, it was only a matter of time before the whole population knew of the arrivals. A possible armed group though only added more difficulty to the survival effort.

He called the two squads to him and started out to the crash site, and the direction the natives were coming from. “Leave the populace to me for now. If anymore arrive, do not fire unless fired upon. Let’s try to avoid any hostile engagements. We have enough problems on our hands as it is.”

As they made their way to the downed gunship, Leonis lowered his range finder to get a quick overview of the situation ahead. Ahead and to the left was the gunship, mangled with one wing ready to snap off and the nose buried in the dirt up to the cockpit. Straight ahead was the group of natives, numbering around a dozen or so. He pushed the range finder up and pressed on.

They got about twelve meters from the gunship as the natives moved up nearly nine meters away. Each side halted and stared at one another for a full three seconds, waiting for the other to act first. This gave Leonis plenty of time to assess the natives.

Fifteen bipedal creatures, almost two meters tall, stood in a double curved-line formation. Their armor was metallic and appeared to be of an ancient style, having just a breastplate, open-face helmet with plume, shoulder plates, arm plates, and leg plates. Their weapons were staff or spear like, questionable whether they were energy weapons or really ancient melee weapons.

The creatures themselves had short muzzles and their legs ended in rounded hooves. On the back of five of them were a pair of feathery wings while five others had a single straight horn protruding from the center of their head. The last five had neither wings nor horn. About half of the group was grey in color with the others being white.

Instinct kicked in as the clones reacted in kind to the natives raising their weapons. Both sides held their position and the hair triggers they now rested on as the natives began shouting. There was no way of knowing what they were saying but they probably wanted the clones to identify themselves, surrender, or leave.

Leonis weighed the options of all possible reactions but was surprised when another native was revealed. He inwardly cursed himself once more at missing something. This time was when his brothers’ lives were on the line. He thanked the Force when the new native turned to the others to get them to put their weapons down before almost begging the clones to do the same. Leonis obliged and motioned his brothers to stand down.

The new native stood shorter than the others, by almost a full head. The slender build and a protrusion at the chest, indicating breasts, gave the impression that this one was a female. That and the dark purple dress, one which ended at her leg joints with sleeves that began tight and loosened up until they hit the wrists. She had long dark purple hair with two shades of purple streaks on her head that stretched down to her midsection and a similarly colored long tail of hair sprouting from behind. Her body varied more from the others as she was purple in color and had both a pair of wings and a horn.

A fight had been avoided, but the two sides still stared at one another, unmoving. The native soldiers appeared distrustful while the female seemed to look in both fear and inquiry at the armored clones. Leonis knew his brothers were awaiting orders, their fingers still hovering over their triggers. The ARC weighed the new options. They needed to help their brothers in the downed gunship, assuming they had survived, without causing a panic in the natives and sparking a firefight, despite the female’s earlier actions.

The sound of scraping metal diverted all attention and a clone, battered and bloodied, began to crawl from the wreckage. Leonis’s mind raced to formulate the proper reaction. Move too quick to help and the natives may assume hostile intent. Too slow, and his brothers’ chance of survival dwindled. Even with his mind racing, his reaction was slow and he watched as the female turned and began running for the gunship.

The clones began raising their rifles prompting the natives to raise their weapons. Leonis thought less this time and reacted, running to catch up to the female and calling for his brothers to stand down. The female was shouting as well and Leonis turned his head to see the natives hesitating to lower their weapons. He was stopped by what he saw next.

A purple glow began to emanate from the female’s horn as she stopped and took a stance like he had seen Jedi do when performing their telekinesis. The door to the gunship became surrounded by the same glow and moved enough to give the wounded clone more room to escape. Leonis moved to grab his fallen brother and drag him from the wreckage.

Behind, both clones and natives stood still as they watched the rescue attempt. The female held the door in place and turned to the soldiers, crying out to them. Leonis commanded his brothers to join in the effort. A couple of seconds later, two wingless and hornless natives grabbed the gunship door and held it in place. Two clones took their wounded brother from Leonis. With the soldiers taking over, the glow from the female dissipated and she sighed relief.

The horned natives, using their own telekinesis, and the wingless and hornless natives worked together to open the door while clones climbed inside and began ferrying the fallen out to their brothers and the winged natives. Only three clones had been recovered when a new development halted the progress.

“Captain!” one clone called out.

Leonis turned to the trooper and up to the sky where he was looking and saw Rising Dawn diving towards the planet. The ship was surrounded in flames and the natives stood in awe and fear with a few of them voicing such fear. The group watched the ship soar over their heads and into the distance beyond the clone gunship encampment. Half a minute later, a sound like a massive explosion echoed across the land, shaking the land.

He turned to the immediate rescue effort. The clones were looking to him for orders as the natives continued to stare in fear, especially the female.

“Get our brothers out of this shabla osik!”

As the clones returned to the rescue the natives followed suit. The female continued to stare as if still trying to comprehend the situation letting Leonis know that her initial efforts were blind reaction. He ignored her and returned to help his brothers, his thoughts drifting to the now crashed ship and Captain Aldair. As he wondered whether the ship captain had made it or not one of the clones snapped him back to the immediate task.

“Captain! It’s Commander Darren!”

Leonis aided in dragging the broken body of the commander from the wreckage and out into the open. He offered no resistance nor made much sound despite the blood seeping out between his armor plates. Leonis removed Darren’s helmet then began removing the armor before Darren stopped him.

“Don’t. My…injuries…too bad. I won’t…make it.” He weakly held up a hand to a clone who tried to inject him with bacta. “Save it…for the…others. Help…them.”

The clone looked to Leonis. “You heard him,” Leonis said. “Help the others first.”

“You have…command…of Mynock,” the commander continued. “You are…the only one…with the rank and experience. Keep them…alive.”

With this, Commander Darren went limp and breathed his last. Leonis stood and looked over the group of dead clones that had been gathered. Sixteen. Sixteen out of twenty four died in the crash with a few dozen more from the other downed troop transports.

He keyed the com to relay the news to Atto. “Commander Darren is dead. I now have command of Mynock Battalion. We have only eight survivors.”

“Alright then.” Atto’s voice was still surprisingly devoid of his earlier sarcasm, being more controlled now. “The recovery groups are ready to go so I’ll send one your way to finish there.”

“Copy. We also ran into the locals. Not sure of their intentions but I’ll keep a personal eye on them for now, see where things go.”

“Understood. Atto out.”

The Major was taking the situation rough. His profile had portrayed him as a risky forward thinker and a constant pain in the shebs for command with his sarcastic attitude. Not a lot of experience beyond defending his initial post. This must been an early, if not his first, experience with the death of his brothers. No blaming him for the momentary personality change.

Leonis looked over the site again and then down at Darren’s body. While his role as an ARC normally sent him into action alone, he already had an officer rank and the training on commanding soldiers. The added responsibility was something he had not only been trained for, but something he knew he could handle. But this command was not his. It belonged to Darren. He had only actually known the commander a short time but his death weighed on Leonis as though they had grown up together, fought side-by-side.

All clones were created to die, but not like this.

Leonis turned to the female inhabitant. “Thank you,” he said, unsure if she could understand. He looked back at his brothers. “Prep the injured to move! We need to get them immediate attention!”

“I’m sorry.”

Leonis stopped for half a second at the sudden words of Basic. He looked at her as she held her hands tight to her chest and stared down at Darren’s body. A look of pain covered her face. He decided to ignore it for now. His brothers needed his attention more. He took a step to help before being stopped by a hand grabbing his arm. He turned to the female once more.
“We can help,” she said.

Leonis gently took her hand and pressed it to her chest. “No. You’ve done enough. Thank you.” He looked back to his brothers. “Move out!”

The clones carried the survivors on makeshift stretchers and started making their way back to the spawning base camp. Those who had none to carry began gathering the dead. Leonis crouched to pick up Commander Darren when a purple glow surrounded the fallen clone’s body. Leonis quickly looked to the female inhabitant.

“Don’t. We’ll take care of our own dead.”

The glow dissipated and she stood silent for a moment before speaking to her soldiers. They ran over to the clones carrying the survivors and began aiding in carrying.

“You take care of the dead. We’ll take care of the living.”

Leonis hesitated a moment, unsure if he could trust the locals. But the look on the female’s face seemed to express the same pain and loss that the clones felt. It was painfully obvious she did not like to see such suffering.

“Thank you,” he said before allowing the natives to carry the survivors while he and his brothers cared for the dead.

As they marched back to the outpost one of the gunships from the recovery groups flew overhead before descending. Leonis could not help but wonder what new ordeals lay ahead on the uncharted world and the mysterious race that inhabited it.