It hadn't been hard to earn their trust, the people, opposing the Empire - had quickly thought it was possible that a Jedi might be amongst them, thus he had joined their ranks. Now his green lightsaber blade would be in the front lines of the defenses that had been erected against the invasion. A motley collection of aliens and droids, his compatriots were an odd bunch, to be sure.

As the Imperial landing ships shot out the mass that was the 13th Legion, the green blade danced back and forth in front of the fate placed young man, deflecting bolts away from the fellow soldiers wise enough to cluster around the 'Jedi', and sending them back to the stormtroopers that had shot them in the first place.

His position was in the center of the battlefield, the focal point of the Imperial attack. His dreams had led him here.

But where was she? No matter where he looked he saw no woman alone with a lightsaber against the darkness.

No, only the indomitable white armor of the Empire.

It haunted him still, even as he waded through the battle. Stormtroopers unlucky enough to come close lost arms and legs and ultimately their lives, and then the Force screamed at him as the hum of the battle changed.

They had come from another position!

Jai'galaar carried on, rifle swinging skillfully from the left, to his right. Unleashing deathly torrents of well-practiced fire in to enemy stragglers. Droid and human alike.

"Keep advancing!" He ordered harshly, the hiss and snap of blaster fire streaking over his head. He knew the numbers were becoming insurmountable, the enemy was going to break. At least for now.

"Captain, a Jedi is centre-field. . " A clone shockingly reported.

The news paused Jai'galaar in his tracks, his body hastily spinning in to cover by a downed, moss infested tree. A jedi? Here? It defied logic in numerous ways. One, how the Jedi managed to just abruptly show up, having never been reported upon by the Troopers that had been stationed here fighting on multiple fronts in multiple battlefields beforehand. Two, why he would be so foolishly swinging his sabertoy around as if he would go unnoticed and his distractions would not be taken advantage of. And three, why he would sacrifice himself here to defeat and possible capture. His element of surprise would have been so much more effective in another theatre of war.

"Set your stuns to full power, get him out of the battle." The Captain quickly ordered, numerous troopers heeding his demand before firing on the young force-user. Cautious of both their distance, and the suddenness and no doubt gracefulness of the Jedi's movements as he hacked and cleaved through battle fatigued soldiers of the 602nd Stormtrooper Brigade.

Added (21 Mar 2011, 0:37 Am)
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The flow of the battle was changing. The droids and aliens that he had chosen to fight along side in his search for the eyes that haunted his dreams were falling back with every new wave of stormtrooper that continued to enter the battlefield in a relentless manner. Not entirely foolish, he was falling back with them and when the Force screamed to him of impending danger he fell back more abruptly. The blue rings of stun energy that came hurtling his way were precipitated by a desperate urge to leap away, which he heeded blindly, his force enhanced reaction time and ability to move helping him to clear the rings that would have been able to hit him cleanly, were there not other droids and aliens around. Several droids fizzled along wth the aliens standing near him fell as some shots missed him but hit those around him.

He didn't have a lot of experience with this kind of attack, as he brandished the green blade before him, having landed a good 30 meters away from the advancing stormtroopers. He had been brought up as a child to know when to fight, when to flee and when to run. Capture was simply unacceptable at this point in time, until he could find what had drawn him so strongly to this world and to this battle. Much to the dismay of the rebels that were around, he turned and began to run rather quickly away, heading to fall back to the main camp of the rebels.

Added (27 Mar 2011, 4:20 Am)
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Even with the Force flowing through him the way it did, the genetically enhanced clone soldiers, while not fast enough to outright catch him, didn't lose him either. It gave him some advantage that the soldiers on his side, that weren't retreating took shots at the forces dedicated to chasing him, but not much of one as they weren't novices in the least and accounted for enemy fire still.

Something would have to change if he were going to come out on the appropriate end of this encounter.

His path would change and he'd leap, the Force lending strength and distance to his legs as he did so, to stay out of the path of the stun rings sent his way, draining as the near constant use of the Force was, it didn't lend itself well to the scenario of using it to somehow turn the cards on his rather dedicated assailants. He needed a diversion, some kind of well executed distraction.

As his route brought him into the heart of the resistance rear, the stormtroopers would find that they were surrounded on both flanks and as the enemy hadn't entirely broken just yet, more fire would be coming there way than it had in the center of the battlefield. He made a hard turn around a hard structure that had been serving as a males only latrine, and continued to run.

"Stay on him, he'll break." Teroc growled, urging his brothers to push forward. But the resistance fire was beginning to ruthlessly burden their forward advance.

They continued on, pace quickening, there was no quit in these soldiers until the first one fell. One-Seven stumbled, a red bolt blasting through his left thigh well up towards his pelvis. His hands loosened on his rifle, his helmet protected head rearing backwards as he heavily tipped forward. Another two shots struck him centre mass, and his body fell lifeless in the dirt.

"One-Seven's hit!" Ge'tal shouted, quickly halting at the fallen troopers side, three other Clones right behind him.

Cut off from their on-ground pursuit of the Jedi, the Clones dug in. Returning skilled, and precise fire in to the enemy flanks. "Hettyc, let them have it!" Teroc demanded as they slowly began to inch towards cover. Ge'tal and another of the 13th dragging their fallen comrade with them.

Hettyc wasted no time, he initiated the switch of his X-42 and waded forward as the others continued towards a hollowed out, smoking shell of a former duracrete structure. And with one flick of his trigger, a tongue of fire leapt from the nozzle of his weapon. Stretching it's deathly coil in a massive arc, engulfing numerous resistance in a wall of snapping, and howling flames.

"Stormbreaker, we've lost visual on the target. We're pinned here." Teroc cursed.

"Roger that. We still got him." Strombreaker replied over the comm, tracking the jedi's progression with the ships sophisticated air-to-ground targeting systems.

"Engage, Stormbreaker. I say again, engage the jedi."

"Affirmative, descending in for attack run now."

The engines of Stormbreaker roared wildly as the ship rapidly fell from the sky, circling in towards the front of Nintra's position. The Jedi stuck out clearly on the ships targeting sensors, he was locked.

"Weapons free!" The pilot informed, and the crew came to life. Pouring down a rain of destruction with all four of it's Composite beam turrets, and two of the three anti-personnel turrets with the same pinpoint accuracy that had once made this transport so famous during the Clone Wars, and had secured its usage by many Imperial Military units to this day. Dead or alive, this Jedi would not fight another battle on this world again.

Added (02 Apr 2011, 2:39 Am)
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I'm not terribly familiar with the weaponry of the LAAT, i wikipidia'ed it, but if I make some grave mistake in its capabilities, please just let me know and I'll adjust as necessary. I'm operating on the understanding that the anti personnel lasers are small enough to be parried by a lightsaber, if I'm incorrect, I'd like the opportunity for a re write. Also, the wikipedia site made it seem as if the combined beam turrets actually one shoot one beam, but its conjugated from four others. Just letting you know what assumptions I'm operating on ))

The ship roared around to his front and the Force was screaming. He had quite literally escaped the frying pan to jump into the pot, it seemed. He leaped, the Force aiding his already screaming muscles and body, green blade flashing in front of him in a wild, desperate spin, catching the first volley from the smaller anti personnel lasers. He had avoided the first round of fire by leaping and parrying, but as the determined gunners kept their triggers pulled it was simply unrelenting. He hit the ground just feet from where the combined beam laser struck only a hair behind him, as his reflexes were just a hair faster than the clones, but not by much as the gunners had the technology advantage. The kinetic impact sent him flying from the ground, and while a moment before he had been poised to deflect more of the never ending rain of fire, his sudden change in position left him off balance and vulnerable. He quickly paid the price for it.

The first blast caught him on the top of his left shoulder, sending him spinning down. This spared him a shot that would have taken his head off, before another caught him in the thigh. Another blast from the combined beam sent his form flying again as it struck the ground and made him lose his footing once more. Herein occurred a stroke of luck for Nintra, it sent him behind a duracrete obstruction that would both protect him from further fire and shield him from view. The LAAT would have to make another pass to come at him again, but any of the gunner's with their eyes open would have been able to see that the target had been rendered combat ineffective, if not dead outright, even if he was a Jedi.

He laid on the ground, his mind filled with only thoughts of pain, considering what were quite simply holes in his left shoulder and right thigh. He felt his consciousness wanting to fade, but fought it, and part of him hoped that they would think he was dead and call off the hunt. It had been a mistake to come to this planet, to come looking for the sad pair of eyes he saw in his dreams. Why had he done this? The fevered thoughts ran through his mind as a groan escaped him. He tried to move his left arm and it screamed with pain in protest. He had been effectively disabled, and without care in a short amount of time, an infection was just as likey to kill him as the Stormtroopers that he knew would quickly overrun his position, hidden by the duracrete barrier, pulling himself along the ground with his right hand, his fingers still curled around the smooth black hilt of his lightsaber.

The haunting face in his dreams, the one he had seen in his sleep for so many nights now, her blade shining alone in the dark, he thought he saw it, just as his vision faded to black, unconscious.

"Target down. . . he's down. Landing to secure." Stormbreaker reported over the comm.

With the help of a Clone from Gauntlet Company, Fajra pulled the fallen soldier up, dragging him with her as they moved out. "Teroc, hold your position, we're on our way," she said, her words breathless as she pushed forward. Beads of sweat collected along her hairline and temples, running down and leaving thin streaks down her dirty face. Her dark tresses had come undone, snapping angrily at her back as her feet pounded against the earth. They ran as hard and as fast as they could, leaving a path of death in their wake.

As they approached the structure, they set their fallen down, and proceeded toward the resistances front. The structure was on higher ground, giving Teroc and his men some leverage. They were surrounded, but with Fajra leading her men at the head, the enemy would find themselves sandwiched in the middle. There would be no retreat for them. Only death. She released the first shot, bringing her target down, but that wasn't enough. She brought her heel down at the base of his spine, pinning him to the ground as the mouth of her rifle exposed the back of his neck. She released one more shot, sealing his fate.

She moved without hesitation, and with an unprecedented grace. There was a numbing pain in her side, but it didn't stop her as she pressed forward, eyes glowing with determination. The Clones moved with her in unison, pushing the enemy back, while Teroc and his troopers pushed forward.

"Secure that weapon!" One of five clone troopers that had been a passenger aboard Stormbreaker shouted as they approached the motionless jedi. Weapons were drawn, and the smallest sign of movement would be met with lethal force.

Heavily a boot sole pressed on to the weapon wielding wrist of the unconscious boy, pinning it's limp and lifeless weight to the ground below, as the muzzle of his rifle hastily jabbed the cylindrical lightsaber to a second trooper.

"He's still alive, " Yet a third said, after the Jedi had been disarmed and he'd slid in to apply SC-401 Stun Cuffs to the wrists and ankles.

"Ready him for transport, we're taking him to Commander Merav"

"Commander Merav is currently engaged, we'll return the Jedi to the LZ with Captain Jai'galaar."

Of note, his lightsaber was a smooth curved black hilt, with no discernible dials located on it.

(next post will be longer, having connectivity issues)

"Teroc, I want your best sharpshooters on this structure. Secure a perimeter around the area. Don't engage unless absolutely necessary."

The dust had finally settled, but the fighting was far from over. The Commander was working to secure what they had covered, while awaiting reports from the others.

(Also sorry this is short, running off to work :p)

"Get his arms and legs!" Teroc groaned from behind his featureless helmet, holding CT-3765's left wrist with both hands, trying to subdue the struggle of his injured comrade.

The broken down shell of a building they had retreated to had provided them cover, but the onslaught of enemy fire had pocked and chewed the rubble violently. Five were dead, and this trooper was critically injured. With the fighting slowing outside, and the other troopers continuing to hold off the enemies of the Empire with the assistance of Commander Fajra's units. They were finally able to effectively offer aid to their fallen brother.

"Your training, Three-Seven-Six-Five, remember your training! Beat the pain, brother!" Teroc continued, teeth gritted while he released one hand from the struggling limb that he had been holding, shoving his helmet off to the floor below with a dulled thud before settling a reassuring gaze in to the soldiers eyes.

Lail continued his work, scissoring away more and more strands of the shirt until finally enough had been cut for him to properly assist the wound. "Water, " He demanded, and Hettyc quickly splashed 3765's chest before ragging away the dark pools of blood from the wound. "Could be the liver, the wound appears to be from a Slugthrower." Lail spoke quickly while his practiced eye bore in on the damage. "We have no Plasma, and without a transfusion he is going to bleed out quickly if I can't locate this in any timely fashion. This has to be fast."

"Bite down on this, lad. We cannot sedate you." Ge'tal informed, the smallest frown creasing his face.

Carefully '65 settled his jaw on to the rolled rag, his skin paling and balmy. Eyes weak. He was as ready as he was ever going to be for this.

"Hold him, " Lail repeated once more.

With scalpel in hand Lail made the incision to open the wound, long and straight, then hastily peeled the flesh further open around it and set in a medical clamp to hols it open. Almost instantaneously 3765's body rocked in utter agony. His teeth crushing heavily on to the rag, his wheezing lungs crying out muffled, stomach lurching moans. Hettyc quickly mopped the dark welling liquid that rose and splashed out over the wound.

"Faster trooper! Clean the wound faster!" Lail shouted as a quick series of blaster rounds belted in over their heads, cracking and splintering the duracrete wall to the right of them. But they did not yield. He searched desperately for this source of bleeding, pressing his bare hand deep in to the wound cavity, spilling the pooling blood over the sides of his abdomen. "I. . I can't find it!"

"We're losing him. . " Ge'tal said wildly, his fingers to the neck of the fallen soldier.

"His legs, get his legs up!" Lail again demanded, as the writhing and painful squirming of 3765 began to wane. "I just need a few more--Got it! It's an artery leading to his liver, it's severed!" Lail pushed further, working more furiously, he had to get it clamped. "I got it! It's clamped!" He sighed in relief, slipping his blood soaked and painted hands from the well of flesh and gore. "No! No no no!"

As Hettyc tried to wipe the man clean, more blood quickly rushed in, then out of his body in heavy pulses.

"There must be another wound, I can get it. . . how's he doing?!"

Another series of vicious blaster fire rang.

"No vitals."

Teroc held the lifeless troopers palm in his own, lowering his hand to the duracrete below. His eyes never once moving from the dead gaze of his brother. "Put him with the others, and get back to position." He said slowly, rising from the floor before replacing his battle scarred helmet back on to his head.

"Hold acknowledged, Commander. Establishing a perimeter on this location."

Added (22 Apr 2011, 11:33 Am)
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((OOC: Gonna give Fajra a few more hours to post, because she said she was going to try and work something in. If she hasn't responded by the time I get back I'll post again to keep this from stalling out.))

"Captain Jai'galaar!" Feint shouted, pushing his way around the numerous Clones that had taken to gathering the friendly wounded and dead.

"Brother! Glad to see you've survived!" Jai'galaar quickly responded, pausing mid-stride. His helmet tucked under one arm revealing the prominent half Nar Shaddaa smile that stretched from the left corner of his mouth and arched all the way up his cheek, and rifle slung over the opposite shoulder.

"Yes sir, fighting on this planet has been the most severe I've seen since the war."

"Walk with me, I've got to prepare a prisoner for Commander Merav." Jai'galaar informed, inwardly wishing this war was his alone to command. The Jedi would be killed square away, and he'd already have all of these fresh boots rotated in to their respected fronts for this Campaign.

"Well, sir. Even with your reinforcements we're still going to be hopelessly outnumbered." Feint informed as the two Clones began to make their way across the landing zone. "More and more Droids seem to supplement their already swollen ranks every day. We've received intel that there's four fully functioning droid production facilities embedded somewhere well beyond their lines. But even with our best reconnaissance units probing very deep, and orbital imaging. We've been unable to locate them."

The two paused, letting a team of BARC mounted soldiers blaze past them at full-throtled speed. "Clankers are dangerous, but very predictable." The Captain admitted.

"True, sir. But that's just the droids. Every day the rebellion on this planet thickens. What started out as a violent protests of just a few hundred people in the Western cities, is slowly turning in to a full terrorist dissent against the Imperial occupation of this world." Feint once more continued. "And because the civilian casualty rate would be too high, we've not been given clearance to preform any type of BDZ or orbital bombardment operations against these terrorists."

"Politics." Jai'galaar grunted spitefully.

"Precisely," the Captain of Raven Company agreed. "Some Politician sitting in their pod at the Imperial Senate thinks such uses of force would only make the Empire look bad to the Galactic Community. So they vomit out some worthless rules of engagement, and in the end it's our brothers that pay the ultimate price. Especially in those cities." Feint growled. "At least on the Line you know who the enemy is."

"The sooner the Senate is finally dissolved, the better. War has no place for politics, the fighting should rest entirely on the shoulders of us Clones and the Emperor."

"There's plenty of fighting here, Jai'galaar. We're strung out on multiple fronts. Policing cities and towns, trying to provide refuge and places to stay for the civilians dislodged from their homes because of the fighting. As I said, even with your arrival we will still be spread to thin."

"The 901st Youth, and 487th Stormtrooper Divisions will also arrive in a week, and subsequently be pressed under Commander Merav's command."

"Human men and boys, we need the rest of the 13th! We need General Adenn, not some girl trying to get a service commendation for her future political career. We all heard about her first *mission*"

"We'll handle things as we always have in the Legion. Experience overrides rank. But while she is present she does have the final say. Captain Ne'tra has taken a fondness to the girl, I can see it when the two speak. Urge them to an easier assignment, and we'll maintain our own standards on a different side of the planet." Jai'galaar had concluded.

"Ne'tra always has had a soft spot for natural-borns." Feint shrugged before leaning down and breathing a string of powerful encouragement to a severely wounded soldier of Raven Company as they continued on. "Our Southern front is in shambles, it's stalemated in to rough trench combat. And has just began a five month cycle of rain and mist, forcing us to withdraw all of our support armour. It's likely the most deadly and miserable of all the fighting on this world."

"We'll get to that later, brother. For now we have to ready the Jedi." Jai'galaar informed as the two finally had come upon their destination.

They'd finally returned to the centre of the Landing Zone that Shadow Company and their reinforcements had arrived at. Now numerous LAAT's sat heavy on the ground, Troopers busy in their duties bustled all across the area securing weapons, policing bodies, reading charts and briefing their squads on where they were to be shipped to. The sounds of sporadic fighting had faded now, drowned over the weighty rumbles of Imperial armour as it marched about.

Then there was Tes'dra Nintra, the boy thus far had received no medical attention. His wrists and ankles were shackled tightly in SC-401 Stun Cuffs. His arms were upwards to the sky, a chain holding them tightly to the edge of a LAAT wing, his wrists supporting the full weight of his frame. On the ground in front of him, another three metres of chain lay spooled, one end connected to the shackles that bound his ankles. The other to the back of a BARC speeder.

While the Clones of the 13th Legion were more well known for the outright killing of Jedi than they were of capturing them alive. There definitely was widely circulated stories of their cruel and unusual torturing of force-sensitive prisoners. Though most of them could widely be credited to the Kaleesh General, Adenn. Luckily for Nintra, this was Fajra Merav's show.

"Bring him back, lad. Need him lucid enough for questioning when Commander Merav gets here." Jai'galaar informed the control operator of the SC-401's. His eyes never leaving Nintra's unconscious body.

Immediately his order was fulfilled, and the Clone danced his fingers over a control device. Administering a painful lash of electricity in to the shackles that held him. Upon awakening the boy from such a far off world may have found it unusual that all of his keepers appeared to be the same exact man.

"I suppose everyone is waiting for me to do something about that eh?" A crooked smile parted her lips as she considered her next words. "He's not going anywhere. Let him hang and chillax for awhile. I'll see to him...eventually. If you see the Captain, let him know I'd like to see him before the day has ended."

Fajra took to drink and smoke as she made arrangements for supplies before the weeks end. She was pulling from her own funds, knowing that the Empire had limitations. What she wanted, went a little beyond that.

(again, not very descriptive. Apologies)