The Battle Of Kuat: Interception

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kuat City, Kuat: Two Years Before The Battle Of Yavin:

Kazaar was startin' t'hate this fracking planet. Had nothin' t'do with its climate (which was actually pretty damn nice) or th'fact it had o'buncha trees (ain't bad t'look at). Nah, the only problem was the frackin' company.

He took a swig from 'is canteen. 'Course it was water. Damned captain had t'do o'check every morning t'make sure no one was cheating. Kazaar rolled his black eyes. He'd been sober for 'bout four months anyway. That's how long he'd been stuck on this Force-damned planet.

Things been o'helluva lot nicer on Corellia. After Delly'd left, Aurelias Kazaar pretty much went crazy...taking all th'bounties he could an' killing all the slavers, pimps, kidnappers, you name it, he could get his large hands on. Temporary sure, but made Kazaar feel pretty frackin' normal. Even when Darvy offered 'im the chance t'head to Mandalore, he'd told 'im no. Wasn't interested.

Then Spenny (of all people) made o'pretty good suggestion. Join the Rebellion. "You can kill a lot of Imperials, Aurelias. And almost do it anonymously because it's not completely organized."

Been o'good suggestion for th'first few months. Spend time on Corellia with o'sector force (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Sector_Force). Kill a buncha Imps, drink all th'Corellian Ale ya wanted. Smoke more than o'few Saccorrian cigars. Who th'frack wouldn't like that?

Then he had to be th'lone survivor ovva mission. Didn't really matter what happened, Kazaar'd lived an' no one else had. Stupid frackin' mistake. After that...Rebellion decided t'get o'little more organized. He'd been packed off t'Kuat, given o'stupid ass uniform (http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20070822011828/starwars/images/8/88/Reptroops_anh.jpg) an' told to "Be all you could be." That 'course meant tellin' people "Yes sir" and "No sir." Frackers even told 'im he couldn't take 'The Twins' with him. Sure as hell wasn't what Kazaar signed up for.

Killin' Imps sure. Bein' some kinda soldier stuck doing crap he wasn't suited for? Hell frackin' no.

"Corporal." Voice shook 'im outta his griping. It was Captain Harkov. If there was one frackin' guy who needed t'get laid it was him. Guy was way too frackin' up tight. "I thought I told you to go relieve Saunders on guard duty."

"Just 'bout to." Kazaar stretched an' rubbed his eyes. Too frackin' early in th'morning. "Had t'make sure I was awake first."

"You were 'just about to' what?" Harkov replied inna clipped tone.

"Told ya. Just 'bout t'head down'n relieve Saunders. Ya ears all gummed up're something?"

"Watch your tone, soldier. And say 'sir' after receiving an order."

Somehow, Kazaar kept 'imself from smacking Harkov over th'head. Frackin' tight ass. "Oh yes sir, sir. 'Bout t'head down t'make sure Saunders ain't fallen asleep. 'specially since we ain't done o'damn thing since we got here."

"That will change Corporal. You'll find out tomorrow." Yeh frackin' right. Guy'd been sayin' that forra week. "Now go relieve Saunders! And get that damn cigar out of your mouth. Want to tip the Empire off we're here."

This time Kazaar didn't hide the scowl as he clomped down th'two floors t'where Saunders was waiting at the doorway. Dark 'nough ya could watch without bein' spotted.

"I'll take it from here. Harky's inna terrible frackin' mood though."

Saunders simply smiled. "Need to start treating him with respect, Kazaar. This isn't Corellia."

Kazaar snorted. "Don't frackin' remind me. Get outta 'ere, Saunds. Go get ya rest." He settled 'imself down in th'doorway an' watched.

Yeh...he was really startin' t'hate this frackin' planet.

[Pierce Tondry]

Aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Stalker; High Orbit above planet Kuat

"You're going to polish the metal off that weapon, Private."

"Sergeant Grunnig, sir." Pierce Tondry focused on the cleaning cloth running up the barrel of his E-11 blaster rifle instead of the grizzled veteran who led biker scout unit Nigen-Five. "My dad always told me if I took care of my weapons, they would take care of me, sir. I have no intention of dying on a battlefield because my weapon failed to fire."

"You're daddy's a smart man, son." Grunnig took a long drag off a cigarra, the smoke exhale jetting from his nose. "But you prettify that thing like it's a woman. It ain't gonna give you 'favors' or grow knockers no matter how much you drag that cloth over it."

"Doesn't matter," Pierce checked the safety, then took a small rod and swept the inside of the barrel. "Anytime we're about to go into the field, I'll make sure it's ready."

Grunnig's eyes went flat. "Son, we ain't had word from the highers in command about deployment for three weeks. And Kuat's as secure a spot as you can find from here to three sectors out. What makes you think we're goin anywhere?"

"Sergeant Grunnig, new orders." The barracks room comm station suddenly chirped to life at the same time as Grunnig's own personal comm unit. "Prepare your unit for surface deployment from craft Delta-Delta-Pysonis. Landfall will be at 12 hundred."

The comm went quiet as suddenly as it had said anything. In Grunnig's surprised silence, Pierce answered the question. "That, sir."

Grunnig swore. "What in the- son, how the fuckall did you know we were surfacebound before I did?"

"Dad taught me about fighting, sir," Pierce set both cloth and weapon in a carrying case. "Mom taught me about listening."

Pierce stood from his bunk, clad shoulder-to-toe in biker scout armor. "Fourth bike, sir?" he asked as he shouldered his equipment pack. His free hand hefted the weapons case containing the E-11.

Fourth bike referred to a biker scout unit's right hand position, with the first three reserved for each of the three point riders who were out front and therefore most likely to die.

Grunnig paused in the act of getting together his own gear. "Force-damned- yes, you're riding fourth bike. And while you ride fourth bike maybe you can tell me what the hell we're going to be doing down there anyway."

Pierce paused in the doorframe - expecting the sergeant's affirmative, he'd already started moving out - and looked back. "Escort support. See you in the dropbay, sir."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

As usual it was quiet durin' Kazaar's guard duty. Not o'lotta stuff happened. He'd watched o'couple (who was gettin' a little too handsy with each other) stagger down th'road towards o'hotel room orra apartment. Also saw an idiotic lookin' TIE Mauler (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/TIE_ap-1). Th'frack was th'Empire deal with those frackin' TIEs anyway? Every single one o'em looked th'same. Sounded th'same too. Who th'hell designed those damn things anyway?

Kazaar rolled 'is eyes and shifted positions. Frackin' dikuts.

Relief came 'bout an hour later. Couldn't help but notice Rags showed up late. Fracker...Harkov's little golden boy. Always either got first watch're last one. Always got th'most sleep while Kazaar had t'get his sleep cycle all fracked up. Hell, Rags'd probably been 'lowed t'sleep late by Harky. If ya're th'commander's best pal...why th'frack wouldn't ya take advantage of it.

Dark thoughts still swirlin' in 'is head, Kazaar collapsed on 'is bunk and fell asleep in minutes.

***************************************

"All right boys, here's what's up!" Harkov seemed pretty pleased. Like he'd been told he was gonna get t'spend o'night inna Twi'lek brothel. Kazaar was still rubbin' sleep outta his eyes when he'd been told t'get his ass in gear an' get t'the meeting. "Orders have finally come in. It turns out, Kuat Drive Yards and Sienar Fleet Systems are working together on a new starfighter. We're not exactly sure what, but we're received intel suggesting some of the plans may be inside Kuat Systems Engineering's (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Kuat_Systems_Engineering) headquarters.

"Guess where we're going?" Harky paused f'dramatic effect. "This is a big, one of the biggest offensives we've planned in a while. We'll have space support from the Navy, while we hit the headquarters. I'll give out assign-"

"Ya gotta be frackin' kidding me."

Harkov looked like he'd just been punched in th'nuts. "What did you just say?"

Kazaar smirked. "Said ya gotta be kiddin' me. If th'Imps got some kinda secret fighter they're buildin', don't ya think they'll erase th'frackin' plans once we hit 'em?

"Be o'helluva lot easier if th'Navy just attacked th'shippin' lines. While all that craziness is goin' on, send o'small team into KSE headquarters'n gank th'plans. Hell...take out o'couple stormies...make it seem like they're securing th'facility...make o'helluva lot more sense than just throwin' us 'gainst headquarters'n hope we make it in.

"Th'frack came up with this crap plan, Harky, you?" He smirked an' stuck o'cigar in 'is mouth. "Frackin' moron..."

Everyone just kinda stared at Kazaar then at Harkov, then at Rags. So that's th'kaffer who thought up this brain dead operation. Unbe-frackin'-lievable.

What were they frackin' hoping to lose this war?

[Pierce Tondry]

Grunnig caught up to Pierce at the turbolift. "Private Tondry, you wanna give me a sitrep so I don't put us all in front of a firing squad down there?"

Pierce couldn't say he admired everyone in the Imperial Army. Hell, he couldn't say he admired most of them even. But Pierce respected Grunnig as a man, a soldier, and a commander. Grunnig's history included surviving the Clone Wars and, at the age of 40, re-enlisting to further the Empire's cause. While Pierce didn't specifically believe in the Empire's cause per se, he did believe in maintaining order and protecting the weak. Grunnig did too.

Gotta run interference against guys on the other side of right for those folks what can't he often said.

Most people considered the Rebellion a group of terrorists - no better than criminals or lowlife scum. Though Pierce could not say he'd ever seen how they behaved outside of a firefight, he privately admitted that he'd never seen a Rebel cross the line of morality.

"For starters, Lord Vader sent us here," Pierce began filling his squad commander in on what he knew as the two of them stepped into the 'lift. "When I picked up on that bit of info, I got curious as to why so I listened in around the Officer's Mess on the Navy deck. Seems Kuat Drive Yards and Sienar Fleet Systems put together a new version of the eyeball. They have a working prototype and full plans for it."

Grunnig snorted; he had little use for pilots. "Space fighters don't hold ground."

"Navy brass is keen on it," Pierce said, hedging around the comment. "So it happened. Anyways, they're going to be delivering the plans and prototype to the Empire so the government can take custody of it. I'm guessing we're going surface-side to babysit it as they cart the thing to a waiting Imperial hauler. Going to be a big ceremonial thing. Lots of security."

"Sounds like a heap a trouble's expected."

Pierce gave him the verbal equivalent of a shrug. "Mmm. No way to know really, unless you count how good Lord Vader is at predicting what people will do."

The 'lift doors opened into a hangar that contained a total of four brick-dropships, the one closest D.D. Pysonis. Grunnig eyed the younger man, not far out of Carida academy training and yet already seasoned in ways that escaped his squadmates. "So you figure someone will hit the convoy?"

"Could be. Or could be someone will hit the main K.S.E. building while some of their guard is with the convoy. Either way, the normal guards are going to be split. My guess is that recon will need to be on its toes for threats from any direction."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"You really shouldn't have done that." Saunds didn't quite chastise Kazaar but sure as hell wasn't too happy 'bout it.

Kazaar only smirked. "Please. Harky deserved it. Guy's o'fracking moron. Frontal assault...th'frack he trying t'get us killed?"

Saunders shook his head. Guess he wasn't agreein'. His frackin' loss. "I'm not saying you didn't have a point, Kazaar. But what if he was just following orders?"

"Hah!" Kazaar spat. "Don't gimme that crap. Ya wanna blindly 'follow orders'? Go 'cross to th'Imps. Sure those frackin' eggheads'll want ya. 'Specially afta ya tell 'em what we got planned."

Two of 'em were sitting inna cafe across from th'KSE labs. The ex-bounty hunter'd actually been able t'get that idjit Harkov t'change the plan. Or 'least modify it o'bit. Instead ovva direct assault, he'd decided it'd be best t'see a couple guys t'scope out th'scene first. What those guys were seein' wasn't that pretty.

The facility was locked down pretty tight. Hell...had more security than o'Twi'lek stripper onna male-only colony. Place didn't just have Imp troops patrolling th'place, but hired outta buncha fracking mercs t'make sure things were working too. Geez, these guys were fracking paranoid. Hell...made all th'bullshit Kazaar had t'go through with Harkov look normal. Or 'least seem that way.

"So..." Saunders took a sip from his drink. "What do ya want to do?"

Kazaar leaned back, stuck o'cigar in his mouth an' smirked. "Wait. Security looks like they're gonna be takin' off soon. Or 'least reducin' their numbers. Way I figure..." Never finished his thought.

Harky'd must've decided he was gonna attack the place regardless as to Kazaar's report. Or one o'the Rebel teams out there hadn't gotten the message that recon was gonna get done, then the attack was gonna happen. Either way, o'couple biker scouts sittin' on their rides near the KSE's main gate had their rides blown th'Hell, while their pals with 'em were peppered with blaster fire.

Mercs acted first, letting loose o'couple shots, while the Imps realized what in th'blue nerf was going on. 'Course by then the mercs saw it was just o'force of ten're so, which made it more 'fun' than o'job. Still, a couple of them were sent to the ground with blaster wounds, while the rest started hiding behind several duracrete barriers they'd set up.

Kazaar shook his head. Force-dammit. "Call Harky. Let 'im know one o'our boys decided t'go all Jedi on 'em...take th'Imps out himself. Tell 'im to move his ass or I'm gonna kick it." Another explosion sent th'two Rebels duckin' for cover.

"Hell...just quote me on that bit." Frackin' morons...Kazaar pulled out 'is blaster and started lookin' forra good perch t'start shooting from. He sure as hell wasn't 'bout t'let himself get shot 'cause o'someone else's idiocy.

Not this time 'least.