The Battle of Hosnian Prime

It was about a hundred rotations since the Imperial invaders came, when the main corridor in Dorrapolis fell. The old Empire’s tank and walkers now steamed up the once-grand parkways of the city. The Republic Navy did its best to get supplies in to the defending troops, but as the casualties mounted and the number of Imperials grew, they became less and less sufficient to fuel the resistance.

Not everything was going well for the Imperial barbarians though. The guerrilla fighting in the backstreets and alleys of Hosnian Prime’s massive megapolises was wearing down the Imperial Legions. They were bringing in older ITTs and AD DTs, to replace lost Marauders and AT STS, as their ‘elite’ Stormtrooper Corps was worn away. Nevertheless, in a war of attrition, without support from the Republic, there was no way they would lose.

Lieutenant Ailen knew this well. He crouched behind the massive duracrete barricade that had been placed over 17^th East Parkway. He didn’t risk peering over it to see behind him, but he could smell the intoxicating fumes of an Imperial hover-tank slowly smouldering away. Near him, the members of his small fireteam prepared for a fresh onslaught to come. They had dug in well, making use of the many craters and piles of rubble that the battle had made, with heavy repeating blasters set up and snipers positioned in the buildings above. But the countless waves of Imperial troops had taken their toll. His unit was scarcely above half-strength, and his supposed reinforcements were Territorial Defence volunteers – motivated and loyal to a fault, but barely trained and mostly equipped with weaponry that was obsolete by the end of the Clone Wars.

If it weren’t for the the circumstances, the young Lieutenant might have been happy, having now been given a frontline command controlling a hundred-odd troops; but every silver lining has a cloud. He wasn’t there for his talent, but because anyone better was injured or captured – or worse.

An eerie silence had descended over the city. Even the intermittent sounds of blaster bolts had ceased. Ailen knew better than to be happy. It meant those Imperial terrorists were planning something. The sudden whir of an X-wing interrupted the peace, its S-foils glinting with the sun as it flew low over the city. They didn’t dare fly high or deep over Imperial territory, with so many TIEs about. Suddenly there was a garbled message on his commlink, from a sentry in the buildings above.

. . . Wampa, repeat, two Wampas, approximately 50 troopers, and multiple Dewback, heading towards 17^th, currently moving North, entering interchange onto 17^th, repeat, moving onto 17^th. . .

Wampa was code for an AT ST, the small but deadly walkers the Imperials headed their urban assaults with. Dewback was the codeword for the transport speeders. No doubt each would be carrying more troops into the fight. As if on cue, the blood-curdling screech of a TIE could be heard. He grasped the barricade he sat behind as the ground shuddered. Dust stirred up and got into his eyes. As the dust settled and he wiped his eyes clear, he could see that he had been lucky. Some other unfortunate victim had borne the unpleasant fury of this attack, but he could see the looks on the faces of his soldiers. It was hard to encourage them at a time like this. But even if defeat was inevitable, he would fight on. If not for winning, than for the sake of mateship, for pride, for the principle of the thing, for the force’s sake.

A speech was coming into the head of the lieutenant, even as the thudding stomps of the AT-STs become audible. They were like the drums of war, and courage and pride built up in his chest, as he looked around at his troops.

“Brothers and sisters. It is only moments now, as you can tell, until the barbarian criminals try and come for us again”.

He paused, collecting his breath. The faces around him were no less sullen or terrified. But he had their attention.

“Well, let me tell you. We won’t surrender to them. Our forebears fought before for freedom from the Empire, and we’ll keep defending it. No matter what it takes and what we lose. We know that under them, there is no hope, only suffering. They are motivated by greed. A greed for power, for subjectifying everyone who dares speak against them.

“Now I ask you, let’s stand here together and stand up for them. I cannot guarantee we’ll win, but at the very least we can die trying. . . Oh and may the force be with us!”

The experienced members of his squad chuckled at his dark humour. The new volunteers looked more frightened than before. But they had a spark in their eyes. The Lieutenant knew that inspiring leader time was over. Now it was time to fight – and give directions.

“Private!” he shouted across to a young Territorial Defense soldier, cradling her old E-5 carbine, “get across to the top of the Phlac-Corp building, try and get a good view of the incoming Imps and keep us updated!”.

“Yes sir”, she replied before scurrying off quickly, trying to stay below the barricades. The pounding of the AT STs was getting louder – and nearer. The humming of engines and the clatter of Stormtrooper armour could also be made out. The Republic soldiers waited, silently asking the force for strength or mercy.

BOOOOM!!!

A massive explosion erupted behind the barricade. Debris was flung everywhere, and black dust and smoke blurted out the sky, illuminated by bright red bolts from Imperial blasters. Ailen didn’t need to give permission for his troops to return fire. They all gripped their blasters, and hoped for salvation!