[center][h1]Sullust[/h1][/center]
	This imperial fortress is the main driving defense against the rebels. Time and time again this past year the Imperials have defended it. But today, the rebels have a secret weapon. The workers that work inside this place. The natives are done being oppressed. They have decided to fight with the Rebel Alliance and strike a crippling blow to the Empire by taking away their fuel. If the Rebels succeed in this assault, then the entire Empire could fall. The forces left in the facility are quickly bearing arms, but what the Rebels lack in technology they gain by numbers. With the added assistance of the natives, there is no telling as to who could win this fight. Will the Empire drive away the invading forces? Or will the Rebels finally take the fortress and end this drawn out war?



[color=f26522][h2][i]BOOM![/i][/h2][/color]

	Klaxons sounded in the imperial stronghold. Brill sat up groggily, one of his fellow troopers shaking him awake. "Rebel raid!" He shouted over the alarms. Brill nodded, rubbing his eyes, already moving towards his gear. This was life on Sullust. The few precious hours of sleep you had was usually interrupted by a rebel attack, or something of the sort. He donned the clunky armor. He liked the helmet. It masked your feelings, your emotions. Made you seem inhuman. Scared the hell out of the rebels. Especially when you spew flames at 'em and all they have are some half-empty canteens. He rushed pass the mess hall, lagging behind the other stormtroopers. Luckily the sergeant demanded he keep two standard stormtroopers by him. It wasn't because he liked Brill. It was merely because they were short on incinerator troopers. Especially with Brill as the only one. Once he finally exited the base and entered the ash filled air, he started forgetting about the hindering armor.
	 He just wanted to char some rebel scum. "[color=f7941d]Alright boys![/color]" He called into the comm in his helmet. "[color=f7941d]How would you like your rebels done?[/color]" His bodyguards laughed. "[color=8882be]I'll have mine medium rare![/color]" TK-8943 called. "[color=f49ac2]And mine well done[/color]!" TK-6574 responded. They were good fun. They had never really told him their names, just some nicknames they cooked up. TK-8943 preferred to be called Ghost. TK-6574 tried to be called Specs, but most called him Sketch. "Anybody detecting anything?" Intel responded to Sketch. "Four heat signatures inside the tunnel to your right." Brill laughed. "[color=f7941d]It's about to be a lot hotter[/color]." 
	They advanced on the cave. The Rebels were obviously prepared to ambush a squad, but by the time they realized someone was coming from behind, it was too late. Brill lit up the interior of the cave. He usually tuned out right about now, so he wouldn't have to bear the burden of hearing them scream. He stopped the flame once his bodyguards signalled. He slung the flamethrower across his back and drew his E-11. Sketch and Ghost did the same. They advanced, the lights on their helmets giving them a path. Suddenly a lone Rebel jumped out and fired at Brill. Luckily his armor protected him from the shot, and he quickly squeezed the trigger in response, the Rebel grunting in pain as he fell to the ground. "[color=8882be]Anymore heat signatures, Intel?[/color]" Ghost asked. "Negative." A low voice told them. "Now report back to base. A special authority figure wants to see you all."