The Imperial fleet had a substantial number of landing craft used to deploy ground forces onto a planet's surface.
However, not all of them were suitable for basing aboard an Imperial-class Star Destroyer.
The reason was the dimensions of the main hangar, which on a standard destroyer couldn't accommodate giants like the Y-85 Titan. Due to their size, the only type of ship that could freely transport them usually had the prefix "Super" in its name.
For this reason, each Imperial-class ship was equipped with several AT-AT Theta-class landing barges.
In appearance, they resembled the Titan, but due to their smaller size, the latter looked more like a younger brother who was about to grow up. Well, that was in the spirit of the humor that invariably accompanied soldiers' lives, brightening up hardships and moments of need.
Although generally similar to the Y-85 Titan landing craft, the AT-AT Theta-class barge was much smaller and had a dark blue or light beige color. The AT-AT barge could only carry a single AT-AT walker.
Due to the barge's limited size, the AT-AT walker had to be carried with its legs folded and not ready for immediate combat. Only after being deployed onto the surface could the walker extend its legs and engage the enemy.
But today, it was completely different armored vehicles that were the first to enter the battle on Balmorra.
Just think — who would have thought that one day the Blizzard Force would be deploying on such… "little ones."
The AT-PT was developed for the Galactic Republic decades before the Clone Wars, but during the war, the Republic needed a small anti-infantry walker, and the AT-PT became more relevant. It was one of the first vehicles in the AT series.
The concept behind these machines was to give a single soldier — the AT-PT pilot — the firepower of an entire squad. At three meters tall, this "little one" easily reached a speed of sixty kilometers per hour, and terrain type was no concern. Snow, ice, desert, soil — it moved across practically any surface. One that could support its weight, measured in tons, that is.
The transmission hydraulics allowed the machines to climb at a 45-degree angle. They never lost their balance.
The machines were equipped with a long-range communication antenna, making them ideal scouts or providing soldiers with an excellent patrol vehicle.
It was designed to suppress enemy infantry, and in its final Imperial variant, it received not only a twin laser cannon but also a grenade launcher. Originally, of course, it was intended for launching signal flares, which is why the Galactic Empire only used it for patrol and guard duty.
Yes, they did take part in some battles, but over time it became clear that even high mobility couldn't compensate for light armor. The appearance of heavy enemy equipment and artillery effectively drove the AT-PT from the battlefield in favor of the more heavily armored and armed AT-series walkers.
It seemed as if the legacy of the Katana fleet would never see the light of day again…
But when Grand Admiral Thrawn found that very fleet, thousands of these machines — albeit outdated, but still combat-capable — were at the disposal of his forces.
Engineers in the Tangrene workshops brought the old machines up to a decent and combat-ready condition, meeting the spirit of the times.
And today was their baptism of fire.
The AT-PTs would be the first to attack, to sweep aside the enemy's formations and allow the landing barges to deploy reinforcements without worrying about enemy artillery shooting up the unloading AT-ATs.
True, Balmorra might not have heavy enough guns to penetrate the AT-AT's blast-absorbent coating, capable of withstanding almost any bombardment. But one should never forget that even these enormous giants have vulnerable points.
Which are practically impossible to fix.
Yes, the engineers had welded sharp cutters onto the walking legs to cut the cables the rebels had used on Hoth to wrap an AT-AT's legs and trip the machines to the surface.
But the weak armor on the AT-AT's "neck" is hard to fix. Practically impossible, if Tychus remembered the advanced training sessions conducted after the cloning procedure correctly.
Cloning…
Sergeant Roach shuddered, imagining that inside the landing barge were dozens of guys just like him. With the same face, the same memories, perhaps even the same thoughts.
Brr… the very thought sends a shiver down your spine.
The landing barge, and with it the machines inside, began to shake.
That familiar sensation of dropping in, which you never forget.
The euphoria of the coming battle twisted your soul into a tight knot. Then that grip of excitement and anticipation dragged your soul down into your heels. The mere realization that a single well-aimed shot was enough to knock out the barge's engines and send it plummeting like a stone at free-fall speed created a hollow, sucking feeling in your gut.
That feeling only disappeared when, in the vast cargo hold of the assault barge, the emergency lighting was replaced by the green light so familiar to any Helldiver's eyes.
The next moment, the barge's deck shuddered noticeably, and the massive ramp, spanning the entire aft end, split precisely down the middle. With the characteristic sound of servo-drives, mechanical muscles began to come alive in the troop bay...
Like the enormous maw of some techno-beast, the ramps began to swing open, flooding the troop bay with natural light.
"Forward!" the sergeant heard a voice in his helmet's headset.
Maybe the exterior of the AT-series walkers changed, but the controls were the same as they had been decades ago.
The Sergeant made his AT-RT leap nimbly out of the barely-opened landing bay, using the advanced hydraulics and the quadruple-jointed legs of the machine to absorb the shock of landing.
Theta-class AT-AT Assault Barge (image taken from Ansel Hsiao)
The "little one's" three-toed limbs dug into the soil of Balmorra, instantly crushing vast piles of rusted metal under their weight.
They had been dropped on a junkyard.
Everywhere you looked — the skeletons of crumbling machines and...
The objective.
An ion cannon bunker under fire from heavy blasters.
The very same one that had knocked out the Golan platforms and made the landing a foregone conclusion.
And the second task on the agenda was to ensure the protection of that platform. Inside were friendlies. Heroes operating behind enemy lines. And judging by the fact that the main gates of the ion cannon complex were torn open, and there were a large number of troops around dressed in anything but the usual uniform, the guys inside the bunker were clearly having a tough time.
The Balmorrans were storming them through the main gate, while simultaneously hosing the windows with heavy blaster fire, preventing any return fire.
It took the Sergeant seconds to process this.
His machine's scanner showed that, having released the walkers and infantry, the assault barge had soared upward, making way for three more of its sisters. Through their lowered ramps, the extending platforms with AT-AT walkers were already visible. Figures in white armor scattered like seeds across the terrain, establishing a security perimeter around the landing zone.
So, the first task was complete — the beachhead was secured.
That meant he could help the comrades in the bunker without being distracted by secondary objectives.
Seconds were spent calculating the optimal attack line.
The same seconds it took for him and several nearby machines to cross the machine graveyard and open fire with grenade launchers on the enemy's firing positions.
AT-RTs advancing (image taken from the same source, Ansel Hsiao)
Maneuverable as predators, the light walkers burst into the enemy's position just as the high-explosive rounds from the upgraded grenade launchers shredded a significant portion of the enemy forces with shrapnel.
Twin cannons mowed down enemy soldiers who clearly had no concept of cover or why it was so important. The nimble walkers circled the bunker, trampling the Balmorrans, maiming and killing them, grinding them into the soil and literally vaporizing them with the fire of their artillery.
A minute — and around the bunker, there was only a dead field.
Transport ships with stormtroopers had already landed on it.
With dexterity and without any rush, Blizzard Force began clearing the strategically important object, entering the bunker in squads and burning with blaster fire anyone who didn't look like Dominion operatives.
A new order crackled in his headset — advance to the bunker of the nearest planetary deflector shield generator.
Dry clicks of blaster impacts rattled against his armor.
Tychus worked the control levers, turning the walker towards the direction of the attackers.
A group of Balmorran soldiers was firing small arms at his AT-RT. Rifles roared, filling the walker's small view screen (small compared to the originally intended model). The polarization system worked fine, and the tempered transparisteel didn't yield to such light weaponry.
Sergeant Roach pulled the trigger, and the twin blaster cannon spat green fire, turning the enemy shooters into charred corpses clutching unrecognizable melted lumps of plastic and metal in their hands.
The pack of light walkers rushed towards its objective.
An AT-RT running ahead and to the right (an old, unmodified model, for some reason) nimbly leaped over obstacles made of rocks and road barriers when something fast struck its left support leg.
There was a lad, and now there's no lad (image just from a Wookiee English source).
The "leg" shattered into pieces, and the machine collapsed to the ground like a felled tree.
The next laser volley blew the unmodified AT-RT to pieces, leaving only a smoking wreck where the swift machine had stood.
"Take cover!" the company commander, whose unit included Tychus's machine, yelled in the headset.
A stupid idea, really — the terrain was uneven, with virtually no cover. And what little there was couldn't protect the fast-moving machines, even with their low profile, unable to hide their three-meter-tall chassis behind half-meter barriers.
Tychus yanked his machine aside, preventing another laser shot from gutting his walker.
He had already identified the target — fire was coming from a heavy repulsor tank holed up in a hollow between two low hills. Attacking it head-on was pointless — it was using the remains of a barrier to cover its front projection below the turret. A heavier caliber would be needed to penetrate the target from that angle.
There weren't many options.
It was slow, but could punch through in one hit. The AT-RT was fast, but its weapons were useless against such a giant.
He'd have to rely on ingenuity.
The hydraulics screamed like a siren, informing the pilot that they weren't designed for the spring-loaded jumping maneuvers he was using to avoid getting hit. Well, that was the hydraulics' problem. If they didn't know what they were capable of, that was on them.
The company commander stopped yelling at him to get back into cover (which was essentially a fiction anyway). But he didn't send the other machines to support him either. Well, not interfering was good enough.
Sergeant Roach, at every opportunity, fired his grenade launcher at the front of the enemy's cover, methodically destroying it with high-explosive rounds. Yes, they were too small to do significant damage to the tank itself, but they should damn well crumble the duracrete!
With the irritating whir of an empty rotary magazine, the grenade launcher announced its hunger.
Tychus, switching the machine to a "crouching, sneaking" state, took cover behind a low hill, ordering the auto-loader to fill the launcher's insatiable maw. Ten seconds for a reload, after which...
With a disgusting grinding and hissing, scattering sparks and filling the cockpit with the smell of vaporized insulation, the top part of the roof simply vanished. The tank's round had literally vaporized it.
The emergency siren wailed.
A chill of piercing wind ran across his face, diving into the cockpit of his now-convertible AT-RT.
The next shot missed the machine, but it gave Tychus a clear idea of how long the Balmorran contraption needed to reload.
Seven seconds.
That meant...
The little walker, with a speed unattainable by its heavier brethren, darted out from behind its dubious cover like a swift arrow, firing a burst from the grenade launcher on the move.
Yes, he was out of grenades, but not signal flares.
Only he wasn't using them to signal his squad that he needed extraction.
The rounds flew straight, embedding themselves in the Balmorran tank's armor, ricocheting off the front projection, and falling... between the tank and the barrier it was using to cover its lower part.
The brightest flashes flooded the space in front of the machine, blinding the entire crew, from the driver-mechanic to the enemy tank commander and gunner. The rounds, designed to soar to an altitude of a thousand meters and flare, burning all the while as they slowly fell to earth, now flooded every viewport, every sensor, every camera with fire...
A minute to get out of hiding, reach the tank, and literally toss a grenade into it through the hatch.
But no one in the company was in a hurry.
Tychus didn't waste time.
His machine ran forward when the cockpit became unbearably bright.
A familiar shade of plasma flew over his head, then another and another, and another, and another...
The sound of the shots was pleasantly warming to the soul.
But most of all, Tychus was glad that the Balmorran tank proved unable to withstand such pressure and exploded after the first burst, scattering pieces of its hull and components all around.
Sergeant Roach turned his machine, a grin spreading across his face.
Making the earth tremble and groan under the tread of the multi-ton giant, surrounded by several AT-RTs, an AT-AT majestically moved towards the battle site.
The well-known war machine had finally managed to leave the assault barge's belly and break free.
Krepysh came to stand up for the little ones.
"Well, now we can fight," Tychus grinned crookedly, watching as dozens of AT-ATs began to spread out from the rapidly expanding beachhead.
And with them, stormtroopers, tanks, combat "chariots," other types of walkers...
With a labored roar, the first Acclamators appeared in the sky, delivering tons of equipment and thousands of Dominion soldiers to the surface, who had arrived to carry out their assigned tasks.
The beachhead, organized to capture anti-space artillery and deflector shield generators for a subsequent thrust into Balmorra's industrial districts, had proven itself perfectly.
Then streams of plasma rained down from the sky, signaling the start of the orbital bombardment.
Scarlet, blue, and green beams from lasers and turbolasers mixed with dust, earth, and human remains the entire defensive line of fortifications that had remained on Balmorra since the time of the Galactic Empire's dominion.
Corellian corvettes, fighters, and bombers, covering the numerous landing craft, flickered in the sky...
Well, they had been offered to hand over what was demanded voluntarily.
They refused.
Well, today the Balmorran military and corporate bigwigs would have to learn firsthand what asset and means of production confiscation meant.
And possibly, not just theirs.
* * *
Major General Maximilian Kaine stood next to the tactical holographic projector that occupied a significant portion of the command Juggernaut's troop bay.
The wheeled giant, spewing streams of rocket fire, moved in the second wave of the assault on the "Balmorran Armaments" headquarters, allowing the fast-moving repulsor tanks to do what they did best — attack at tremendous speeds, breaching the enemy's defenses, dragging mechanized units of walkers and other armored vehicles into the gap, which delivered assault teams directly onto the heads of the hastily entrenched Balmorrans to seize command posts, capture fortified areas, or neutralize enemy artillery.
Orbital bombardment and regular raids on enemy positions exposed the Balmorran defenses quickly, bloodily, leaving not the slightest chance to delay the offensive.
Less than an hour had passed since the landing, and the Balmorran army base was razed to the ground.
Prize teams were already looting arsenals and ammunition depots, while mechanized units continued to drive the enemy into the mountains.
There, according to Republic intelligence, the command of the Balmorran defense forces was located.
And, to be honest, everything there was so well fortified that no one wanted anything to do with the enemy's huge base, sprawling for thousands of kilometers inside a mountain range.
Fortunately, that wasn't required either.
The objectives of the attack on Balmorra were quite specific and required no improvisation in target selection.
"The Commander-in-Chief on the line, sir!" the communications officer reported.
"Put it on the holo-projector," Kaine ordered.
In the corner of the tactical terminal, a figure of a Grand Admiral, one-third of his real size, lit up.
Maximilian nodded formally in greeting.
"Report on the operation's progress, General," Thrawn ordered.
"We're ahead of the estimated schedule, Grand Admiral," the clone admitted. "The front-line defenses were swept away during the orbital bombardment and subsequent bombing. The enemy's ion cannons have been captured by AT-RT assault teams across the planet. They, along with the planetary shield projectors, are already being dismantled and loaded onto ships."
"The factories?" the Grand Admiral inquired laconically.
"We have surrounded and begun clearing the AT-AT production complex," Maximilian reported, pointing to the deployed map of the combat front. "We have one hundred and twenty working machines in several modifications that were ready for shipment to clients. The factory itself is not yet under our control — we are suppressing the resistance of the security forces. Within the next hour, the factory will be fully under our control: they have no heavy weapons, the slowness in our advance and capture is due to our non-use of armored vehicles on the factory grounds to preserve the production lines."
"Is the AT-ST production under our control?" Thrawn studied the holographic theater of operations for a moment.
"Yes," the Major General replied simply. "Naval special forces took them quickly and without any delays. As well as the factories producing other Imperial-made armored vehicles. Effectively, the offensive is entering its final stage — we have only a few factories and the company headquarters left to capture for data extraction. The shock commandos are already working on the latter at this moment."
"I await further results," the Grand Admiral said.
"I will report as soon as they appear," Maximilian promised.
The hologram vanished, and the Juggernaut continued to churn Balmorran soil with its enormous wheels, following the first wave of the advancing forces.
* * *
The change in their operational role happened rather mundanely.
Just at one point, Major Tierce informed them that from now on, a number of his battalion's squads were shock commandos.
Okay.
Command gave the order — they obeyed.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Had army or naval units found themselves in a similar situation, they would certainly have started discussing why they had been granted such a high honor.
The formation of guard units, even though it had happened quite a while ago by stormtrooper standards, still caused talk among the crew members. For the soldiers of the 501st Legion — the first and so far only one granted such a high honor, warriors for whom each passing day could end in death — the changes were just a part of life.
An obligatory part at that.
The job remained the same.
Except for the reorganization of the command-and-staff structure and the use of new ammunition, equipment, in-depth classes, and training missions on special unit tactics. And, unlike their predecessors from the Galactic Empire's shock commandos, they were a structural part of the legion, the Stormtrooper Corps, not Imperial Intelligence. The latter had their own operatives; they would handle their own tasks. But on the ground and in space, the Dominion troops wouldn't mind having those capable of performing operations with surgical precision. Naval special forces for space missions, shock commandos for victory on planets and their natural satellites...
The stormtroopers were to master the tactics of scout troopers, from whom the Galactic Empire's shock commandos had primarily been formed in the past. It would have taken a long time to instill scout qualities in ordinary infantry, even from the Stormtrooper Corps.
But for the soldiers selected to become the new shock commandos, nothing was impossible. Colonel Selid had created them to turn "impossible" into "mission accomplished, sir."
And so, the former soldiers of the Fourth Squad of the 501st Legion absorbed new knowledge like a sponge absorbing moisture, instantly adapting it into their tactics, practicing, and reinforcing the skills. The legacy of Colonel Selid and his knowledge allowed them to act even more effectively. Therefore, without false modesty, it could be confidently stated that any task set before them would be accomplished. No matter what. Under any conditions. Against any resistance, from any enemy.
Only effectiveness, only mission completion. Anything else wasn't even considered.
There was nothing the soldiers once called the "Fourth Squad" couldn't handle.
And this wasn't a publicity stunt — the elimination of the stormtroopers on the Guardian and the de facto capture of Colonel Niovi, which secured the squad's infiltration onto the bridge and the elimination of the mutinous Admiral Drommel, had been the final test for the Dominion's new shock commandos.
That was precisely why the shock commandos of the squad led by Sergeant TNX-0297 had been selected for the critical mission of infiltrating and capturing the offices of the company "Balmorran Armaments."
A four-man squad in armor as black as the night itself, acquired on the black market for an exorbitant sum, had arrived on Balmorra several days before Grand Admiral Thrawn's full-scale invasion.
Plenty of time to conduct their own reconnaissance on the ground, cross-referencing data on the enemy's security systems and defensive layouts with the information they already had, obtained from the Noghri and a Dominion intelligence operative.
And now, after the latter had made their move, and the invasion of Balmorra was proceeding according to plan, it was time for the commandos to act themselves.
The forward units of the 501st Legion were already approaching the headquarters building of "Balmorran Armaments."
TNX-0297 watched as the board of the weapons company, in hysterics and awaiting reinforcements from the planetary defense force command, threw their last resources into the battle, weakening the building's defenses.
Everything, as predicted by the military specialists of the security forces they themselves had created. Throw everything at the front line to buy time for regrouping the main forces and launching a counterattack.
The Sergeant even knew the reason for this approach — the military command intended to use the SD-series battle droids stored in top-secret warehouses, new products from "Balmorran Armaments" that hadn't yet undergone field testing. Balmorra's military had intended to test them the following week, planning to sell a batch to the New Republic.
Therefore, most of these machines were undergoing technical maintenance, and it would take a considerable amount of time to bring them to a combat-ready state, even considering that the technical personnel for this project hadn't been affected by the current offensive.
That was precisely why the operation prescribed a rapid advance and a quick withdrawal — the SD-model droids could inflict significant damage on the Dominion's ground forces. Destroying them wasn't possible — capturing the research center, located in the same mountain range as the planetary defense force command, would require blasting half the planet with orbital bombardments.
For this very reason, Grand Admiral Thrawn did not intend to include these war machines in his list of trophies, limiting himself to capturing the technical documentation and Imperial technologies.
The latter was being handled by units of the 501st Legion.
But the information...
"Let's begin," TNX-0297 ordered.
Despite the attack, the local security forces hadn't removed the sentries from their key posts.
But the sniper from the four-man shock commando squad did.
And after that, when no one could prevent the inevitable, grappling hooks bit into the walls of the main building, tightening super-strong cables along which they would move from their waiting position to the area of active operations.
Hidden in the shadow of the mountains behind the "Balmorran Armaments" headquarters, the shock commandos activated their pneumatic "grappling hook launchers," whose retrieval mechanism transported the four soldiers from the cliffs to a small balcony in a matter of seconds, created by the architects solely for admiring the beauty of the mountain slopes located two hundred and seventy meters from the perimeter of the headquarters complex.
Unclipping their carabiners, the commandos continued their movement into the weapons company's building.
Moving quickly but cautiously, the commandos breached the outer "layer" of rooms, reaching the level where the company's management preferred to be located.
But no one was there now — they had gone to a reinforced bunker, located three levels below the surface of Balmorran soil.
However, that wasn't where the commandos needed to go.
Their target was the bunker containing the data servers, where the company's technical developments had been accumulated for millennia.
Without a doubt, these were nothing more than copies, created in research laboratories and factories so that specialists from quality control and production optimization departments could retrieve any needed blueprint at any time for study and modification to reduce product costs.
A similar server was located in the corporate leadership's shelter, and at this moment, the copying of information should have begun from the first server to the second for safekeeping in case of an attack.
The problem (for the Balmorran leadership, of course) was that the copying process, despite the enormous bandwidth of the data transmission channels, took a huge amount of time. It started with the earliest files, a significant portion of which didn't interest Grand Admiral Thrawn.
For this reason, the shock commando squad had a certain amount of time in reserve.
But even that time had to be used with great efficiency, avoiding delays where it could be avoided.
As, for example, with the sentry who appeared around the corner, ending up where he wasn't supposed to be at that time.
But the assault commandos had neither the time nor the intention to find out why the attack plan had been disrupted.
Sergeant TNX-0297, moving first, slid down low, executing a "slide tackle with a leg sweep," knocking the enemy off his feet.
The Balmorran crashed to the floor, rolled to strike the sergeant with a backhand from his right arm.
Blocking the lunge with his left arm, TNX-0297 drove a thin, narrow dagger with his right hand between the breastplate and backplate of the armor, piercing the undersuit, the skin, and piercing the man's heart.
The Balmorran jerked but fell still within seconds.
Pushing the body away from him, grabbing the hand of TNX-0333, who was covering the commander while the other two commandos controlled the corridor, the sergeant got to his feet.
Switching his grip on his rifle, he ordered them to move on.
Dragging the corpse aside, the four fighters clad in black armor continued executing the task before them.
They cleared the corridor without a single problem.
Given that the building, and indeed the entire complex, was filled with security force troopers who could easily ruin the plan by sheer numbers alone, they had to act as stealthily as possible. And keep their presence inside secret for as long as possible.
Descending to the floor below via the stairs, the assault commandos eliminated two more sentries. Just as cleanly, using only combat knives.
Stowing the bodies in the nearest utility closet, the squad resumed their advance.
Around the next corner, they ran into a patrol that was clearly rushing to the front line in front of the main building.
Six men. Medium armor, professional movements. Expensive and clearly high-quality Balmorran-made weapons.
The assault commandos had run into colleagues.
But from a different "shop."
And the battle of professionals erupted.
* * *
TNX-0333 managed to let out a long stream of flame from his flamethrower before a blaster shot damaged the weapon.
But even with this action, the assistant squad leader of the assault commandos managed to put two enemies out of action, setting their clothing and armor on fire.
Napalm isn't the kind of flame you can put out easily. So the enemies, though they didn't give in to panic, still fell back behind their comrades, tearing off their blazing gear.
Meanwhile, the squad's sniper managed to put a bolt through another enemy's throat before using a long-barreled weapon became impractical in the current fight.
The distance between the two squads was no more than a meter, and everyone understood that ranged weapons were no longer helpful — no one would have time to use them. Not the SoroSuub blaster carbines with modifications for reducing the sound and flash of the shot, nor the blaster pistols they'd have to reach for.
The Balmorrans realized that the melee distance applied to them too, so there was no point even trying to use the ranged weapons the Dominion stormtroopers had either knocked away or damaged.
Unfortunately, the same applied to the assault commandos themselves.
Combat blades flashed.
TNX-0297 sidestepped a thrust aimed at his neck from a massive cleaver, caught the enemy's arm, used the enemy's unchecked momentum to continue his forward motion, turned his back to the opponent, and threw him over his shoulder, slamming him to the floor while simultaneously wrenching his wrist.
No mercy, no sentiment.
The enemy had disrupted the commandos' plan. The alarm was already blaring throughout the building.
Everything had to be done fast and with maximum efficiency.
The enemy twisted his body toward the hold to reduce the pain and immediately took a boot toe to the face.
Spitting blood onto the floor, the Balmorran opened his mouth to scream, but the combat knife had already found his chin and invaded the human body without asking the owner's permission.
No sooner had they dealt with one than TNX-0333 was knocked off his feet by another Balmorran. Outweighing the commando in build, and therefore mass, the brute slammed the flamethrower operator painfully to the floor, driving a fist into the Dominion soldier's face.
Screaming from the fact that along with the helmet's visor, the bones in his wrist had also cracked, the Balmorran pulled back to finish off the disoriented fighter with his feet, or maybe finally pull the blaster from his belt, but a kick to the groin with a heavy heel sent him staggering to the side.
Right into the arms of the squad's tech, who had just snapped the neck of his own opponent. The soldier, specializing in technical support for commando missions, didn't keep them waiting, driving... an electronic lockpick into the base of the new enemy's neck.
The first thing that came to hand.
Meanwhile, Sergeant TNX-0297 had engaged in hand-to-hand combat with one of the previously "torched" enemies, while the second, together with the third and last Balmorran fighter, had just cornered the sniper against the wall. A blaster pistol had appeared in the enemy's hand...
TNX-0333 and the tech rushed forward...
A shot rang out.
The sniper slid down the wall with a hole in the right eye socket of his helmet.
The tech drove a kick into the shooter's knee, breaking his leg.
TNX-0333 was right there to intercept the hand holding the blaster, yanking and breaking the fingers gripping the blaster's handle.
Spinning around, he shot the second Balmorran in the head, not at all bothered that the man had folded his hands in an international prayer gesture, clearly begging not to be killed.
The crunch of breaking vertebrae touched the helmet's external audio sensors.
The Balmorran kneeling before the flamethrower operator opened his mouth in a silent scream...
TNX-0333 pulled the trigger, and a scarlet flash made the enemy's meal receptacle even larger.
Turning, he saw the tech, with one precise strike between the armor plates, finish off the enemy the sergeant, TNX-0297, had been holding in a lock.
The enemy was about twice the size of any of the assault commandos, and his build indicated this clearly wasn't excess fat. That's why the squad leader couldn't finish him off — the enemy was not only physically large but also well-trained. Several wounds from the enemy's vibroblade were visible on the sergeant's armor. His right arm was clearly dislocated, so the help had come just in time.
Even though the sergeant was using the disabled arm as a garrote, constricting the enemy's throat with his left limb, if the tech had hesitated, the outcome of the confrontation could have been completely different.
The three assault commandos, having picked up functional weapons, stared at the body of their fallen comrade for several seconds.
He sat, back against the wall. Arms spread, head tilted forward.
The siren blared in the corridor, the thunder of boots could be heard, and the three assault commandos, having retrieved functional weapons, stared at their slain comrade.
The first loss among Colonel Selid's clones in nearly five months since their creation.
Unemotional, but a loss nonetheless.
TNX-0297 silently nodded at the damaged flamethrower.
TNX-0333 understood him without words.
They couldn't carry the body with them. And the clone must not fall into enemy hands.
Even from battlefields, clones were always recovered for proper disposal.
But now the body would only slow them down.
The sniper would have done the same for any of them.
That's precisely why every assault commando squad always has a flamethrower operator. He is supposed to take care of his own when circumstances don't allow any other way.
Distributing firing sectors for cover, the tech and the sergeant waited the time TNX-0333 needed to convert the damaged flamethrower into a napalm grenade.
Securing the improvised cremation device on the body of their brother-in-arms, the flamethrower operator activated the thermal detonator, placing it next to the fuel tank.
"We're leaving," commanded TNX-0297, leading the squad advancing toward their objective. They lingered at the far end of the corridor to make sure the device worked correctly and the body, along with the armor, disappeared into the embrace of the napalm flame.
Along with the plastic corridor paneling.
Soon everything here will be ablaze.
They needed to speed up the mission.
* * *
"Still, I need to plan operations for capturing orbital platforms in advance," I thought, watching the four repaired Golan platforms easily slip into hyperspace.
But, unlike their Coruscant counterparts, they didn't leave behind a mess of destroyed construction structures, external systems, and other things that tear off when using hyperdrives not designed for such movements.
Ever since the theft of the Golan platform from the Dufilvian sector, the question arose that kidnapping orbital stations is actually a profitable venture.
Budget savings, given that the stations would be damaged anyway during the assault on the planets they were defending. But for this, it was necessary to have specific models of hyperdrives, akin to what Kuat installed on orbital repair yards of the second type, like the one we have at Tangrene.
But since such technology, if available on the open market, cost an astronomical amount of money (which we didn't have when the idea was born), another way was found to implement the plan to steal orbital defense platforms.
Take the hyperdrives of the required (and not only) configuration from those who have them.
Then followed the attack on the planet Xa Fel, where Kuat Drive Yards produced hyperdrives of all possible types. Capturing a large quantity of the necessary technology, we delivered it to the engineers on Tangrene, who are essentially developing the necessary modifications to give orbital defense platforms the ability to travel through hyperspace without losing a significant part of themselves.
We had enough of these kits, but the problem was that they were far from small in size. You couldn't just stuff them into the Acclamators.
Initially, the plan for attacking Coruscant didn't include capturing orbital stations. On the contrary, I planned to bombard them with the main gun of the Dragon, after which I intended to knock them out of orbit onto the surface of the galactic city and let the locals watch their defenders fall from the heavens.
But the enemy spoiled my plans. By sending the stations out of orbit.
Destroying them under those conditions seemed foolish.
And the capture that happened... Well, you can always try something on the fly. Even the fact that for the Balmorra operation I already had ships with hyperdrives prepared for transporting five orbital platforms couldn't change anything in the circumstances — if I used them on the Coruscant Golan platforms, I would have to "jury-rig" something for the Balmorran ones. Yes, it was a pity that two Golan-III platforms would be damaged during such a "transport," but I had no other options.
In the Coruscant system, I had the capability to install backup hyperdrives from captured ships; on Balmorra, there was no such support.
Therefore, the cruisers with pre-prepared technical solutions for transporting five stations from Balmorra to Tangrene were waiting for their moment.
Transporting the Coruscant stations to the Oplovis sector was a necessary operation for me, as recent events indicated the need to accelerate the pace of building the Dominion's defenses. And unlike my other sectors, Oplovis had virtually no defense except in a few systems. The same shipyard in the Vosterlig system has no defensive structures at all, not even flimsy ones.
The local government simply found it "too expensive" to acquire such structures back in the day. Drommel relied solely on the fleet for defending his planets, paying close attention only to Ketaris. I understand that I need to invest as much as possible in the defense of strategically important planets now, so I don't have problems later with having to pull forces together to repel even a hypothetical attack.
But four of the five orbital defense platforms from Belsavis's orbit will head straight to Tangrene. Along with five ion cannons and five planetary shield generator-projectors. The secret shipyard must be protected so thoroughly that not even a fly could get through. Especially considering the fact that Tangrene is currently the center for producing repair parts for Star Destroyers, smelting metals for restoring the Guardian, as well as modernization work on captured Old Republic-era technology.
And the security of this facility is handled by just one Golan-II station, a sector fleet, and a rather depleted field of Project Asteroid-II objects. Given the attack on Coruscant, where Palpatine's treasure trove technology from Wayland was publicly used for cloaking, secretly reinforcing Tangrene with new defensive systems will be vital.
That's exactly why I needed the attack on Balmorra, which lasted almost a full day.
We were retreating from the system, having effectively plundered it.
The fleet filled the holds of the Acclamators and Star Destroyers with ore and alloys. Mines on five planets and four moons of Balmorra itself, over a hundred large-tonnage ore freighters caught by surprise and captured by our marines, are also heading to the Dominion. With all their cargo. The crew isn't needed — the crew was dropped on Balmorra before the offensive.
We evacuated the B-1 series droid assembly line from Neruna. Even though it's in a rather sorry state, it's still something.
Why do I need B-1s?
Yes, they're dim-witted soldiers, but they know no fear. So they can easily be used in high-risk operations. For example — in transporting heavily damaged salvage through hyperspace. Even if a hypothetical captured star cruiser is destroyed due to a poor field repair during the withdrawal to base, only metal is destroyed.
And sentients won't get hurt.
From Balmorra itself, we seized the AT-AT and AT-ST walker factories built by the Empire. Though not the factories themselves — just the equipment. The factory building shells can be built on our own. For example — using the experience of the Balmorran defense force command, who organized both the headquarters and the production of the latest technology — the SD series droids — in the depths of a mountain range. Thousands of tons of skarn as reliable protection against orbital bombardment.
The assault commandos, having taken losses, together with the main forces of Major General Maximilian Kaine, stormed the headquarters of "Balmorran Arms." The servers, even though they had transferred some information for storage to the deep bunker of the corporate management, were still seized. What interested me most was ours.
It was only a pity that the corporate secrets of the last decade, contrary to protocol, were moved by the management of "Balmorran Arms" to the underground server first. Before the assault commandos could cut the data transmission.
But according to the security protocol, they should have started with the oldest files...
Too bad. Why?
Because we didn't get the technical data on the SD project droids. The very giants SD-9 and SD-10 that repelled the attack of the walkers under the command of General Maximilian Jurgen.
Superbly armed, protected by virtually indestructible armor, but at the same time — slow. They don't resemble anything I've seen in this universe before. But I already suspected their existence.
In fact, they are massive droids. We encountered prototypes or a small-scale production run, but the demonstration of power was enough to understand what potential was built into them and exactly how to proceed regarding these war machines.
Whose existence in my past life I had only heard rumors of. And even then, in the context that they stopped the attacks of the Reborn Palpatine on Balmorra, making the assaulting forces pay in blood.
That's exactly why I ordered Jurgen to retreat.
The loss of two walkers with their troop complements wasn't the reason we left Balmorra.
Effectively, we accomplished all our set objectives. Staying on the planet when the only thing left to do was to make a spectacular "escape" was pointless.
Even the fifth orbital platform, attacked by the Scimitar, was repaired and equipped with the necessary hyperdrive kit for the jump to the Dominion.
"Sir," Captain Pellaeon's voice sounded, pulling me away from staring at the report. "The fifth station has successfully entered its jump."
"Good, Captain," I replied, setting aside my personal datapad. "Order the fleet to withdraw from Balmorra. We're returning to the Dominion for resupply, offloading salvage, repairs, and preparation for a new operation by Guard forces, while the other formations will continue our success in other regions of the galaxy."
"Sir, yes, sir," Pellaeon nodded. He glanced somewhere to the side. "Sir, may I ask a question?"
"Of course, Captain," I nodded. "Why did we leave Balmorra without even attempting a counterattack on the cliffs under which the defense force command and the factories for the latest SD droids are located?"
"Yes, sir," Gilad confirmed. "It seems the Balmorrans managed to create a new type of armor for ground vehicles. And it's something tougher than the AT-AT's blaster-resistant coating. We couldn't obtain the technical documentation for them. And we didn't even try to destroy at least one of the droids in this series to take it for study. We..."
"Never retreated before?" I finished his thought.
"Correct, sir."
"Captain, 'retreat' is just as much a tactical maneuver as 'advance,'" I reminded him of the basics of tactics. "Every action on the battlefield has its purpose. What do you think my goal was in ordering a retreat from the entire planet as soon as the SD series droids destroyed just two of our AT-ATs?"
"I don't know, sir," Pellaeon admitted. "Intellectually, I understand it's new technology and could have inflicted much heavier casualties, but in practice... It felt like we were scared."
"Do you really think so?" I clarified.
"The thought is seditious, but..." Pellaeon hesitated. "I've heard it from some crew members."
"Then the set goal has been achieved," I smiled. Gilad sighed resignedly. "It's simple, Captain. Balmorra is an ally and contractor of the New Republic. We attacked them for exactly that reason. As soon as Coruscant deals with its problems with the cloaked asteroids, they'll start negotiations with the attacked worlds. They'll analyze the reasons, course, and consequences of the operations. And they'll learn that Grand Admiral Thrawn 'fled in disgrace' from the battlefield the moment he encountered new types of Balmorran weaponsmiths' technology. What would you do if you were in the command of the New Republic Defense Forces, understanding all of the above, and were forced to face me?"
"I'd probably shoot myself," Pellaeon said bluntly. Seeing that no smile appeared on my face, he sighed again. "I'd buy up these SD units to reinforce ground forces. If one factory planet was attacked, others will be under threat too. Hutt, if I were in the place of all attacked worlds and those worried about their security, I'd do exactly that!"
"The simplest and most logical thought," I confirmed. "That's why the order to retreat was given. So that this logical chain would form in the minds of our New Republic opponents. We've weakened them enough, but they must still serve as a buffer for destroying the Reborn Emperor. The plan remains the same."
"If they reinforce their ground army with SD droids, they'll be able to counter Palpatine's ground armies!" understanding lit up in Pellaeon's eyes. "If he can't force planets to capitulate without ground battles in which his troops are slaughtered by such war machines, then his fleet will have to split up to support numerous sieges!"
"Exactly right," I confirmed. "Not to mention that after our current attack, Balmorra will spend every last decicredit to acquire a defense that can withstand the next attack."
"And we intend to attack the factory planet again?" Pellaeon was surprised.
"We? No. But Palpatine will definitely want to get his hands on such droids," I explained.
"But," the Chimaera's commander tensed, "in that case, we ourselves could become targets for attacks by such droids! From both the New Republic and Palpatine, if they get these SD droids!"
"Undoubtedly we will," I agreed. "But you're overlooking something, Captain. These droids are invulnerable on the surface. And only to blaster and kinetic weapons. However, I doubt they can fly into space on their own."
Understanding flickered across Gilad's face.
"And as for ensuring these ships don't reach their destination, we'll take care of that," I assured him.
I didn't mention that when faced with Balmorra's deeply echeloned defense, which would inevitably arise soon, Palpatine, not getting what he wanted — the SD droids — would sooner burn the factory planet than allow it to continue producing weapons that could stop his reconquista campaign.
It benefits me for a madman to act madly.
It's useful for hybrid warfare to sometimes leak secret recordings of your conversations with New Republic heroes, in which you warn them of the coming disaster...
But that's all for later, later.
For now, there are more important matters.
For example — finally responding to Mara Jade's distress signal. It seems the Hand of Thrawn simply loves leaving a trail of breadcrumbs behind her.
And since such a trail exists, it leads to someone who intends to build his own Executor literally right under my nose.
The problem is, I'm opposed to such neighbors.