User blog:Bane7670/Short Fiction: Plan of Attack


 * The best way to plan is to plan on improvising.
 * —Corellian saying

Part I
A briefing given with confidence, loaded state-of-the-art weapons, encouragement from the Jedi generals, and even a quick staging procedure gave soldiers everything they needed to go into battle with their heads held high. Not that any or all of those things combined guaranteed confidence, much less success. It helped a bit, but the familiar possibility of being killed without a moment's notice had a tendency of taking precedence in one's thinking.

The clones had accepted that since the day they began their intensive training, which was around when they were two years old. They always went into battle with confidence and willingness to give their lives for their cause. More often than not, they were spirited fighters. It was more than Lawen Austin could sometimes say of the non-clone recruits.

Austin double-checked the level of water in his canteen as he passed by the line of troops standing in neat rows on the outer deck of the outpost with stiff salutes. He could see all of their faces in Geonosis’s early morning light, but he didn't need to in order to distinguish between clones and recruits. The clones were sporting their buckets as usual, adorned with the scarlet markings of the 968th, while the recruits were outfitted in their own uniforms, green and brown fatigues covered with armor plating and ammunition slots. They stood out when serving with the clones, and not just in their equipment.

The various mixtures of excitement, adrenaline and fear in their eyes was what set them apart in Austin's mind.

Leftovers of General Murge Tallav's non-clone units, the recruits had their own respective views on war and some of them probably had families. Austin hoped that Tallav’s war-mongering and glory-seeking leadership didn’t carry over to his men. They knew the true cost of arrogance on the battlefield. Austin was willing to bet that some of them had first-hand experience with that.

He placed his canteen back on his belt and checked the ammo in his sidearm as he approached the center of the staging area. Clone Commander Brig was waiting for him besides the tactical display, giving him a far less nervous salute. "Brig," Austin greeted a few steps from where the officer stood, feeling comfort with a familiar face. "This is everyone?"

"Yes, colonel," he answered, hitting a control on the display. "And the briefing is prepared."

"Good," Austin said, looking over the small display controls and finding the right buttons.

He lifted his head and got a full look at the size of their force. Eight platoons; two companies. The clones far outnumbered the recruits, but it was a united force nonetheless. They all knew what they were doing there. They were trained and ready.

“Gentlemen,” he began, deciding to take the straight-forward approach. “Our objective is to clear out a Geonosian artillery position in the west.” As he spoke, a hologram of the position came up before the troops. It was a simple installation made up of gunnery posts built into a small cliffside, not nearly as massive as the fortress walls around Point Rain. “As you know, Akk Sector is one of the few remaining territories on Geonosis that the Separatists still have complete control of. It is also the most heavily fortified territory, after Poggle the Lesser’s factory. This position is part of Akk Sector’s outer defenses.”

Austin hit a control, and the position’s many weapon emplacements were highlighted in red. He heard a discreet stir from within the ranks of recruits. “Several repeating blaster nests, most of them concentrated right here.” He indicated the place on the hologram with two fingers. “Additionally, it has cover fire from a few proton cannons positioned further away. We must take this position so that the Two-Hundred-Twelfth can access the sector.”

Brig took a step forward, on cue. “General Mundi’s forces are holding off the Droids in the south, so enemy reinforcements shouldn’t be a problem.”

He hit another control that widened the holographic display’s field of view. “This ridge is not hostile terrain, but be ready to encounter any obstacles the enemy may have placed along our advance route.”

“Sir,” a non-clone lieutenant—Ryben, if Austin remembered correctly—said officially. “Will we have any cover on our advance route?”

Austin expected that to be raised by a recruit. The clones probably figured that information would come later on. Brig apparently saw it coming as well. “Tanks of the Forty-Sixth Battalion will be moving in just behind our landing zone,” he explained. “They’ll help thin out the enemy firepower. In addition, Ghost Company will be landing to back us up as soon as the larger guns have been disabled.”

Austin nodded reflexively and waited a few seconds for any further questions before continuing. “We’ll deploy in groups of eighteen—that’s two squads per gunboat. We advance directly towards the first barrier and take out their smaller emplacements. Let the armor handle the larger targets.” He hadn’t even gotten into the details of the strategy and already there were murmurs lingering among the recruits. Murmurs and nervous glances to others. Brig gave Austin a brief look of annoyance, to which Austin responded with a subtle head shake.

“Some of these obstacles might be treacherous,” Austin continued, eyeing Brig a moment longer. “So I want engineers at the ready at all times. We’re advancing on the wall in our gunboat groups and we regroup once the Two-Hundred-Twelfth arrive. Also, I want flamethrowers to stay towards the rear until we are able to scale the cliff.”

There weren’t any other whispers for the rest of the briefing, but the atmosphere they created remained. The plan was simple, strategically speaking. It was a textbook battle, which was why the recruits and especially the clones didn’t raise any objections to their orders. The clones would never do so anyway unless there was a better option available. In this case, there wasn’t, which was precisely why the recruits were on edge.

Austin himself wasn’t pleased with the circumstances. Frontal assault was not his strategy of choice, in no small part because it told him beforehand how bad the casualties would be. Not to mention the Geonosian warriors were a lousy opponent to launch it against. He couldn’t imagine any soldier preferred such combat on any planet, clone or not. But there was no other option. The Republic needed to get boots in Akk Sector before the Bugs could crank out another batch of Droids to reinforce it. The artillery position Austin had been assigned was the perfect place to start.

The men just had to keep that in mind.

“Remember,” Austin added at the conclusion. “We take this post, we open up Akk Sector to the Republic. We take Akk Sector, we’re one step closer to taking back Geonosis. Are we clear?”

A resounding “Sir, yes sir!” was their reply.

Austin hoped that it gave them as much confidence as it gave him. “Very good. Report to your transports. We dust off in five. Dismissed.”

Austin and Brig had walked perhaps twenty meters past the outpost gates, on a path separate from the platoons, when Brig finally spoke up. “Permission to speak freely, colonel,” he requested, keeping his eyes forward.

Austin exhaled. “Granted.”

“I’m not sure a lot of these guys know what they’re doing,” he said plainly. “You saw how they reacted.”

“They’re only nervous, commander,” Austin replied, watching the gunboats being prepped near Point Rain just ahead of them. “And they have just reason to be. We’re charging into a blast zone and taking a heavily fortified installation. You know what that’s like.”

“So does the rest of Gauntlet Company,” Brig answered, sideways glancing at him. “But I didn’t see half of the looks from them that I got from Tallav’s grunts.”

“Tallav’s grunts may not have been on Sarapin with you, but they’re just as trained—physically and mentally—for combat as Gauntlet is.”

“Yes, sir,” Brig conceded, facing forward again.

Austin reared back. He had allowed him to speak freely. “They’re able and ready. They just haven’t experienced something quite like this,” he explained, hoping he was right. “They’ve only heard stories from their comrades about it, one of which I’m certain is about Jabiim.”

“I suppose so, sir,” Brig said, sliding his helmet into place as they reached the gunboat staging area. “Either way, we’re about to see how much they learned from it.”

Austin refrained from saying anything else and let the commander walk ahead towards the arms station. He turned to his own gunboat and stood next to the troop deployment ramp as the platoons collected their weapons. Regardless of how well the recruits performed, he knew his men would pull through. They always did.

The two squads assigned to his transport approached two minutes later. Bowler was at the front of the group, toting his deece in one hand and his helmet in the other. “All set?” Austin asked unnecessarily.

“Yes, sir,” Bowler replied. “We’re all ready to give Poggle a good gutpunch.”

The clones and recruits around him smiled at the remark. Though there was still plenty of unease in their eyes, any levity was welcome. “Let’s go then.” Austin scanned over the squads once, then walked up the ramp into the gunboat.