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Star Wars: Cold Vengeance

Prologue

Lieutenant Forzo rolled his shoulders, loosening up and getting ready for the coming battle. He checked the power cartridge on his standard issue E-11 Blaster. It was full and he had several extras on his belt in case it turned into a long day. It shouldn't, the Rebel Alliance was fleeing Yavin 4 en masse. Most of the rebel scum had already escaped by the time the Imperial Fleet and the 501st had arrived on scene.

The fleet had raced across all corners of the galaxy to come to the aid of their brothers who were on the Death Star. They had sent out a short, but urgent message across all frequencies calling for aid and everyone responded, but all were too late. The Death Star was gone along with everyone on it. There would be hell to pay.

The 501st was no ordinary unit of the vast Stormtrooper Corp, it was the best in the galaxy. Planets surrendered at the mere thought of having even a single Company of the 501st deployed to quell any insurrection they may be up to. Not only due to reputation, but also because of who they followed, almost even worshipped, Darth Vader. The 501st was Vader's personal army. They would do anything he asked, follow him to the ends of the galaxy until they were all dead. That was the loyalty and devotion that the 501st had, they were undaunted in their mission to protect and serve the Empire.

Much of the Stormtrooper Corp, unlike the Grand Army of the Republic and their clone troopers was non clone, made up of conscripts and volunteer humans from all over. The 501st retained its purity, only using non clones as officers. It was a point of pride for the battle hardened veterans to know that they were the only Legion still entrusted to remain as such after the clone rebellion on Kamino, which was quickly crushed by the 501st. It was brother against brother. The 501st didn't hesitate to put their traitorous doppelgangers down and make sure they never got up again.

Now the 501st was barely at half strength. Much of the legion had been stationed on the Death Star, the pride of the Empire and therefore a post only worthy for the best. Now it was gone and the survivors had only one goal in mind, find and kill those responsible. Vader's Fist would slam into those unlucky enough to remain behind on the 4th moon of Yavin.

Lieutenant Forzo was the commanding officer of 2nd Platoon of Scorch Company and would be one of the first units on the ground.

Thousands of stormtroopers, pretty much the last of the 501st, were put onto shuttles and sent towards the planet's surface. There was a small rebel fleet blockading the planet, stopping as much as they could, but that was hardly an issue. A twin pair of Imperial Star Destroyers, the backbone of the Imperial Fleet would smash through the blockade and deploy their Tie fighters to run interference on anything that may try to get in the way. Forzo was confident that he would make it onto the ground.

The shuttle shuttered as something deflected of the hull. Forzo tightened his grip on his weapon and his helmet that he had resting on his knee. The twin black eyes that were the visor stared up at him without emotion. It was the face that the rebels would see. Once he donned it, there would be no way for anyone to tell him apart from those around him from the outside. The rest of the 2nd platoon would know who he was through their huds and he would give orders to make them an efficient killing machine.

"Two minutes until touchdown." The pilot said and looked back through his open door into the compartment where forty-three stormtroopers waited patiently and unmoving, strapped into their seats. The pilot wasn't a clone, very few pilots were anymore and that made him inferior in the eyes of the 501st. The non clone officers that commanded the upper echelons of the legion were only tolerated. Vader was an exception, he never hid behind a wall of soldiers, he led from the front, he had been in the trenches and suffered what they had suffered, he had earned their respect and loyalty.

"Lock and load." Forzo shouted out and undid his harness that would keep him safe if the ship crashed. He wanted to be ready to run out of the ship as soon as the ramp dropped. The rest of the company followed his lead. He put on his helmet and for a moment was engulfed in utter darkness until his helmet registered that it was now on a head and turned on. Forzo was greeted with a simple display that would keep him updated on his company, his weapon condition, vitals and mission objectives along with a satellite map of the area. "Comms check." Forzo said, not sealing his helmet, he wanted the rebels to hear him coming.

"1st squad green...." Each of the sergeants that were in charge of the four squads that made up the platoon checked in, telling Forzo that everyone was ready. It was now a waiting game.

"Attention all units." An unidentified officer came on across all channels. "The rebel scum are attempting to escape the planet in transports. They cannot be allowed to leave this planet alive. Each unit has their own objectives to ensure the transports remain grounded. You mission objectives are being updated." Forzo received his orders which began to update on his HUD. He continued to listen to the officer. "Let's show these rabble rousers what happens when they mess with the Empire." There was a series of hoots and cheers across the channel before the call was ended.

Forzo's HUD finished receiving his orders. There was a rebel garrison near a set of abandoned temples which was being used to coordinate fighters and bomber strikes against the other units which were pushing towards the rebel transports. They were taking heavy casualties and even though they would eventually reach their objective, taking out the rebel's ability to call in airstrikes would help alleviate the pressure.

The base was heavily guarded by both infantry and armor. In response, an entire armored company would be sent down as well along with the rest of Forzo's company. This was going to be a full out assault. It was going to be bloody.

"Thirty seconds." The pilot called out right before the flak began. The ship was really shaking now and Forzo had to make use of the hand holds that were hanging down from the ceiling. "We're coming in hot, lot's of surface fire."

"Get us in as close as you can." Forzo yelled out to the cockpit.

"Yes sir." The pilot nodded, a quiver of fear in his voice. Fear, clones had no fear, they faced their foes no matter the odds. It was why the stormtroopers kept their gleaming white armor, they wanted to be seen. Other units used camouflage and other trickery to avoid being seen. You could see a stormtrooper legion a mile away.

Forzo ran a last second diagnostics check on his gear. He a pair of thermal detonators and a thermal imploder for those more entrenched enemy positions. The thermal detonators created a large expanding cloud of superheated gas which was devastating. The thermal imploder did something similar in the opposite direction. It created a field of superheated gas, but it sucked the air around it into itself, using the heat from the friction of the air to create a source of plasma that it then spat out in all directions. It left a mess when used correctly as people were both pulled in and pushed out, the force did horrible things to a body.

"TEN SECONDS!" The pilot strained against the controls and Forzo could hear alarms blaring around him. There was a distinct noise of weapons being charged and even a personal shield being turned on by the trooper in the front. He would take the brunt of the initial fire that was sure to hit them and allow everyone else to file out of the ship, their most vulnerable moment and find cover.

"I want everyone out as soon as the door comes down." Forzo said out of habit. He liked to talk, to let his men know that he was there. Communication was key to any mission. He made sure there was always constant communications between him and his men. That was why his platoon was named Bark platoon, since they were always barking at each other, the enemy and sometimes at nothing. They were always barking.

"Aye, sir." Several troopers replied and one pulled out his cycler rifle, an archaic weapon from an older time. It used a projectile instead of plasma to kill. The long rifle fired a single cortosis slug at twice the speed of sound and could penetrate nearly any armor or shield that one could find on infantry. It could also penetrate light vehicle armor as well. He would make good use of that trooper to give cover to them as they moved on the rebel position.

"Touchdown." The ramp began descending before the landers even touched the ground and the cabin, relatively dark was immersed in the outside light. Forzo's helmet immediately brought down the brightness, dimming the visor. Next was red as rebel fired poured into the cabin. Most of the fire hit the trooper with the shield, but a few stray bolts zipped overhead, sizzling their air before hitting the walls around them.

The troopers charged out of the shuttle, yelling their war cry and spreading out to make themselves a harder to hit target. The shield on the trooper gave out and he almost melted as their concentrated fire on him tore him apart. He didn't even make a sounds and his white, illustrious armor turned into a superheated red and he fell apart into six distinct pieces. He did his job and now it was time for the rest of 2nd platoon to do theirs.

"Get to cover." Forzo yelled and his men all scattered. The rebels were positioned at the top of the hill and it looked like they had heavy blasters turrets as well. It was going to be a long push to the top.

The shuttle that had dropped them off began to lift up, its two wings folding down from their rested position to create a three pronged shape along with the top fin. It got about ten meters off the ground and was in the process of lifting up and turning to leave when a rocket smacked into its side, knocking one of said wings completely off. It spiraled, smoking, flames consuming its side.

"Move!" Forzo yelled as the ship spun wildly out of control.

"Mayday! Mayday." The pilot screamed over the battle chatter. "I'm hit. Going do..." His voice cut off as the shuttle, too burdened and damaged, dropped like a stone as its lifters just died. Forzo had seen plenty of times what happens when a shuttle drops right onto top of its fuel tanks.

There was a moment where nothing happened and the shuttle just crumpled, then it exploded.

The blast knocked the storm trooper onto his back as the gunmetal gray ship turned fiery orange and ceased to exist. Shrapnel was sent flying. One piece decapitated a nearby stormtrooper who had been too busy firing up the hill from behind the cover of a tree. Another was pierced right in the chest, his plastoid armor doing little to stop the hypersonic piece of debris from planting itself deep into him. A few others were hit, but not dead. They cried out in pain.

Forzo was roughly grabbed by the arm and lifted onto his feet. He was still in a daze when one of his sergeants pushed a DH-17 blaster pistol into his grip. Forzo didn't know where his E-11 went.

"You're not dead yet, sir." He slapped Forzo on the side of his helm and ran up the hill. Forzo quickly collected himself, he still had his grenades, and ran up the hill too to join the rest of the platoon.

A pair of specially modified transports came in from overhead, skimming the rebel position. They each had a TX-130T under them which they dropped off at the rear of the Imperial line which was moving forward steadily through the dense undergrowth.

The two tanks immediately began firing, sending thick, green bolts of plasma up the hill. The focused on the turret emplacements, allowing the infantry to push even harder.

Forzo used the opportunity to find the stormtrooper with the cycler rifle.

"I need you to take out any rebel with anti-armor. We can't lose the tanks." He knelt down next to him, looking over his shoulder and almost down the sights of the rifle as he lined up a shot and fired. A rebel with a smart rocket keeled over, his chest now having a smoking hole in it.

"Does that work, sir?" The trooper asked without looking back. He fired again and Forzo nodded as another rebel fighter who tried to retrieve the rocket launcher fell over mid run, his face digging a small trench in the soil.

The tanks did a number of the enemy lines and the line of white was closing in, moving from one tree to the next, from one stump to another, pushing up. Red streaks painted the air and Forzo could barely hear himself think over the noise of battle.

He watched as a trooper, not from his platoon, took a shot to his left thigh, digging a scorched trail though his leg. The man screamed and fell to the ground. Forzo rushed over, not wanting to have a fellow stormtrooper suffer.

He looked down at the man who grasped at this leg and rolled on his back. It was a pitiful sight to see the man who had moments before, been bravely firing and moving forward, reduced to such whimpering. War turned boys into men and men into this.

Forzo didn't carry bacta with him, it was heavy and the canisters were clunky. "I need a medic at my location." Forzo called out.

"This is D4-328, medic en-route." Someone replied and a medic, still in the same armor as everyone else, to protect him from snipers, skidded to a halt next to Forzo. He quickly looked at the wound and pulled out a rather thick needle from his bandolier that carrier the ammunition of life rather than death. "I have this, sir." He said and stabbed the needle deep into the wound, pumping the precious bacta right to the source. The man screamed even louder and Forzo wished that he could seal his helmet, the men didn't need to hear each other screaming in agony.

"Copy." Forzo nodded and turned away and took a few steps before he heard a faint, rapid, clicking. Thermal detonator.

"Move!" He yelled as the small orb landed six meters away from them on the opposite side of Forzo.

It was too late. The medic had enough time to look up in confusion at Forzo before the grenade went off in a violent and deafening flash. The medic and the wounded man was instantly vaporized. There was only their shadows left at the edge of a small, charred crater.

There was nothing he could have done, but he still felt responsible. He had called in the medic for a wound that wasn't life threatening. It had been cauterized and there was no chance of bleeding out. He should have carried the man back to safety and left him there for the medic instead.

"Enemy armor inbound."

Forzo looked up as a T2-B tank crested the hill top, it's quad mounted turrets aiming right at him. Those guns were meant to kill infantry, firing heavy plasma bolts, that went through anything short of durasteel.

"I need anti-armor on that tank." Forzo sprinted up the hill and leapt to the side as a series of bolts went through the air he had just occupied. "I need it now."

"Moving into position." One of the tank commander's replied and both moved in unison. The hover tanks had trouble moving through the woods and had to weave. It was going to take some time for them to get a clear shot.

Another storm trooper fell silently as his upper half disappeared when the tank got a bead on him. He had been in mid throw of a thermal detonator which went off when it hit the ground. No one was around to be hurt by the blast, but the blast added to the chaos of the battle.

It was another fifty meters to the top. Forzo crawled up to a stump, his white armor stained brown and green from the dirt and plants he had been running through. He held tightly onto his pistol. He hadn't fired it yet, the enemy was still out of range and with that tank, he couldn't expose himself for that long.

"Attention all units at hill 3-D2." The same anonymous voice that seemed to always follow the Empire wherever it went came back over all channels. "The rebels are pulling back and are attempting to call in bombers to cover their retreat. Take out their position." It cut out.

Forzo never liked that man. He only ever talked to give orders and even though his voice was that of the Empire to the stormtroopers, they would rather receive orders from some one of the field. Only if Vader was there, but he had only just survived the destruction of the Death Star. Only if the rebels knew how much of a moral hit that would have been to the corp. But, Vader was alive and well, but not here.

"You heard the man, push forward." Forzo got back up, lifting up a trooper next to him with his free hand. The tanks were now in position and sent a volley of missiles up the hill where they exploded just shy of the rebel tank. It sent a plume of dirt and smoke into the air, masking Forzo's view of the top. Red pierced the smoke as both clone and man fired at each other blindly, which in the madness of battle, blind fire was just as dangerous as a well timed shot.

There had been no order, but the bottom of the hill exploded in white as the entire company of troopers rushed the top. It was going to be an old fashioned charge.

Not wanting to be left behind while his brothers fought on and died, Forzo charged, taking point of his platoon. He fired rapidly into the smoke. He could feel his weapon overheating in his hand as he sent more and more plasma forward. He performed a quick heat drop on his blaster, exposing the core to the air to rapidly cool it. It's a tricky maneuver that, if done at the wrong moment, when the core is either too hot or too cold, will cause a violent reaction that causes the oxygen to feed the core and cause it to overheat more, but Forzo was an experienced soldier and had done this for years. The blaster was ready to go in under a second and he was firing away.

Forzo leapt over the body of a pair of troopers, armor blackened from where blaster bolts had hit them. Everyone always talked about how useless the armor was, which it was in many cases, but not because it was poorly designed. The armor was impeccable made, it was just made to protect the wearer from the environment and monitor their vitals. Weapon's technology had outpaced defensive technology eons ago and commanders had realized that if they couldn't build armor to protect the soldiers from weapons, then it will have to protect them from everything else. A storm trooper, fully dressed out can survive in the vacuum of space for as long as he had oxygen it also provided protection from changing air pressure if a grenade went off close by.

The smoke was like a wall, one second Forzo was running through a decimated and burning forest, the next he was surrounded by white and wisps of black. He could hear the lasers crackling past him, superheating the air as he stumbled forward, no longer able to see where his feet were. His feet stepped under something that at first he thought was a twig, but the way it snapped was all wrong. He ignored it as kept moving forward. He listened to the battle chatter. It was a hell hole on the other side as the rebels had a clear line of sight on anyone that came out and a few voices that Forzo recognized as his own went silent.

They were all clones and yet each and everyone one of them was an individual. Years of working together had allowed Forzo to be able to tell apart each and everyone one of his men by the subtleties in how they spoke, how they walked, each and everyone of them were unique in their own way and yet all the same in their loyalty. There would be a time to mourn, but it was not now.

Forzo burst through the smoke. There was only ten meters between him and the rebels now. He could see the whites of their eyes, they could only see the black of his visor. A rebel, clothed in a camo garb raised his old and worn out rifle at him. Forzo was ready. A quick three round burst killed the man instantly, surprising those around him. A Quarren, came next along with two humans and a Rodian. The Empire had an affinity towards only having humans in the ranks. Forzo was unbiased, anyone could shoot a rifle no matter how many eyes or fingers they had and they all died the same.

They didn't see that Forzo had a special gift for them. Forzo ducked to the side behind what was left of a tree, but not before he tossed the thermal imploder right in the middle of the group.

He heard one of them shout in some language he didn't know and then there was a reverberating whump as the grenade sent out a sphere of energy, silence as the air around him still from the effect and then a horrible, crunching boom as the device pulled everything into itself and then let it all back out in a terrifying explosion of fire.

Forzo got back up and peaked over the tree. He saw a blaster with a hand still attached to it, holding the stock, the rest of the body was nowhere to be seen.

"Bark Platoon." Forzo called out to whomever was left of his company. "To me." He fired at another rebel scum that crept from out of his fox hole. He disappeared back into the ground.

"Copy."

"Roger."

"Moving."

The replies came in from three of the four sergeants. The last one was most likely dead, it was hard to destroy the comms equipment inside of their armor without killing the wearer.

Forzo kept firing at the rebel position which was getting noticeably weaker under the sustained assault. The tank was off to the side with its top peeled back like a can, thick oily black smoke pluming out of it.

The rest of Forzo's platoon gathered around him. There were very few left, fifteen of the original forty-three. They had paid a heavy price to get this far and the fight wasn't completely over.

From there, Forzo coordinated with the sergeants to clear the area. The rebels still held the entrance to the temple ruins, a hangar like opening to a large pyramid stone structure that had turned green from the sheer amount of foliage that had collected and grown on it over the millennia. The rebels were inside, firing out and only another push would give the Empire access to the inside.

The tanks went in first, using their superior firepower to overwhelm the initial defenders. They soon had to break off as another pair of T2-B tanks rolled out. It was no big deal, by this point, three AT-STs had arrived and used their mortar tubes to good effect. Forzo then led an infantry rush into the temple.

The rebels fell quickly once Forzo and his soldiers got inside. The rest of the company was outside securing the perimeter, but it was sounding like that it was done.

"Scout the area out." Forzo sent his squads into the building to look for intel. In their rush, the rebels may have left something important. The lieutenant went to the room where the equipment to call into airstrikes would be.

He walked through the stone halls to a stone door. He entered through it as saw that the inside, a perverted mix of technology ranging back to the beginning of the Clone Wars had been arranged to create a makeshift command center of sorts. There were graphs, charts and Imperial positions marked on a holographic map that floated in the center of the room. It flickered as it ran out of power slowly. The rest of the equipment had been destroyed, either smashed, shot or both. It seemed like that the mission was successful and that there wouldn't be anymore airstrikes.

Forzo was about to leave when the map gave out and something else came on.

It was a face of a man with a scar across his left eye where a fake, metallic replacement was with a single red center. He was young with a well toned face and messy, thick hair. His face was unshaven

"Hello, Imperial." It said, but didn't look at him. It was a recording. Forzo watched it. "I congratulate you on taking this position. I'm sure you paid dearly for it, just as my men paid dearly to defend it." He sounded entirely full of himself as if he was the one that had just stormed and captured the temple triumphantly. "As you can see, there wasn't enough time to properly wipe the information from our systems." The man chuckled. "You really pushed us hard and made us sweat."

Forzo walked up to the edge of the hologram and looked up. He was recording all of this and storing it for analysis. Command loved intel of any kind and would eat this up even though it didn't seem to have any importance other than to... congratulate him? It was off, but Forzo knew that the Mandalorians often showed respect to those that gave them a good fight.

The man grew stern, the smile on his face gone. "I lost a lot of friends here. More than I really care to count, but I did. I lost eighty nine people for this... this piece of rock, for everyone who managed to escape, for this." The man looked at him. It wasn't a recording. "They will have their revenge, storm trooper.

Forzo turned to run. "Get out!" He screamed into his comm.

"You can't run from ten tons of thorium!" The man pressed the button. Forzo didn't even hear the explosion, everything went black.