Bid Against the Thunder || ONC 2020

Chapter 9 - Breaking the Habit

 A controlled landing was pilot jargon for a recoverable crash. Tabraile's head ached, his neck stiff from the impact of bringing the damaged TIE Advanced to the ground ninety meters outside of an Imperial field hospital. Crippled in the collision with an X-wing, the fighter was then hit twice by turret fire from the Imperial base before radio communications could be established to clear their approach.  

"RK-O, get out of here." As smoke filled the cockpit, he leaned over the flight chair and examined Anayera's face. Still unconscious, she was bleeding from a cut above her eyebrow. Suffering a pang of regret for that, he picked her up, balanced himself on the console, and hauled her on his shoulder as he climbed out the of the ruined TIE Fighter.

Blaster fire erupted around them. Using the misaligned solar panel as cover, he embraced Anayera in his arms and slid down the flight capsule into a waiting squad of stormtroopers. Four of them took Anayera from him and laid her on a gurney strapped to the back of a troop transport. The driver covered her face with a blanket as a grenade went off nearby.

Tabraile snatched the blaster from its holster and fired at a group of militia soldiers encroaching on the hospital. "What the hell's going on here?"

"Local faction of Rebs from a town called Sanctuary," replied a stormtrooper. "They make it a habit of attacking Imperial bases here on Talus."

"Where are your commanding officers?"

"Dead or hiding. Right now, you're the only black cap on the field."

Tabraile ignored the slur. "Your designation?"

"RM-5371, sir."

"Reinforcements?"

"We called for help from the Imperial Garrison, but they never arrive in time. The Rebels are good at hit, destroy, and run before our forces can maneuver into place."

"So what's the plan to keep the base?" Tabraile fired a shot and took down a Rodian, who was setting up a T-21 rifle.

"We hold the line, Captain. You can go with your passenger or stay with us. We could use a good shot. If things get real bad, head to the bottom of the hospital. That's where we'll make our last stand."

"Hold up a minute." Tabraile tucked RK-O9 under his arm and ran after Anayera's gurney. He laid the mouse droid beside her and covered them both with the blanket. "Keep her safe." Turning back to the stormtrooper, he asked, "Where do you need me?"

"You flyboys seem to be pretty handy in the turrets. Head on up there. We'll cover you."

Tabraile ducked down low along the field hospital's security fence and sprinted toward the turret tower. Tufts of scored earth and scorched grass flew into the air as blaster bolts hit the ground where he ran. He threw himself over the burned-out wreck of a speederbike to avoid a grenade and covered his head and ears to protect himself from the blast before resuming his desperate sprint.

Four sentinel towers protected the base as its first line of defense, but only two of the turrets were operational. Tabraile trotted up the stairs to the top of the structure. He ducked under the big guns as a blaster bolt nearly took his head off. Missing most of his helmet and his face, a dead gunner was slumped over the firing controls. Tabraile dragged the body from the console and stepped inside the mount to take aim.

Modeled after the E-WEB Emplacement gun, the turret was powerful, causing his hands to go numb from the recoil. Adjusting his grip and his shoulders to absorb more of the shock, Tabraile settled into the harness and fired. A dozen Alliance soldiers, who thought they had incapacitated the big gun, were caught in the blast. Three remaining stragglers retreated into the shadows.