[right][h3]Petja[/h3][/right][hr]

The fireteam moved at a fast clip, working its way down the trench lines, clearing flimsy prefab bunkers and earthwork weapon emplacements on its way to the air battery's command and control.  Glaato kept in contact with the lieutenant through a two-way comlink, chattering away in Huttese as they went. Petja knew only a few words, enough to know that the Imperials had reinforcements on the way.  It made sense, she thought, stepping over another set of bodies.  These Imperials were clearly ill-prepared for an ambush and CQB engagements, and they were poorly entrenched.  A frag grenade had nearly collapsed one of the bunkers as they cleared it, and there was panic in the ranks that made the advance easy.  Soldiers walked directly into their line of fire, seemingly unaware that their defenses had been compromised. 

She was fresh out of frag grenades, and eyeing a pair on the belt of her latest kill, she knelt to take them.  Like the others, she'd put him down at a short enough range, but too far away to get a good look at him through her nightsights.  Up close, she found he was young, and he had a tattoo under his eye.  That was far from regulation in the Imperial Army.  He was a conscript, she figured, possibly drafted from one of the Empire's many far flung prison complexes throughout the galaxy.  He probably wanted to be here less than she did.  He didn't deserve to die like this. she didn't think.  He had family somewhere, she was sure, someone who would miss him.  Friends too, at that.  He might have been a good person, where he came from.  As she finished clipping the grenades to her belt, she noticed he was still breathing, despite the blaster bolts she'd put in his stomach.  She drew the vibroblade from her belt and opened his throat, and a rush of red washed over her prosthetic hand.  

He didn't deserve to die like that, but you have to be realistic about these things.  She caught the private, Benji, staring at her as she stood, but Glaato and the Bothan were unmoved.  They pushed on together without exchanging a word. 

Command and control was at the end of this last length of trench.  It was the largest of the bunkers they had come to so far, though still only a single floor, and was the first with a door. Orn Da'lya brought his pack around and connected the machinery contained inside to the external control panel.  Petja understood the thing was akin to an astromech in a backpack. It was a sophisticated piece of droid machinery good for slicing, and supposedly starship repair too, in a pinch.  It took less than a minute for the door the give way to the slice and slide open to welcome them into the Imperial anti-air battery control center. 

They poured in, shouting commands in Galactic Basic.  They found four technicians stationed here, and they needed at least a couple of them alive.  With the Juggernauts inbound, the lieutenant's orders were to turn the guns on the Imperials' reinforcing armor, if possible.  Orn Da'lya's backpack might have been table to handle that on its own, but if they needed assistance with any part of the process they were happy to coerce the enemy.  Only one of the technicians was less than compliant - the commanding officer here, it seemed.  He went for the pistol at his hip but Glaato was quicker with his rifle.  The other three fell in line with no issue after their commander went to ground. 

They made good use of their prisoners.  Glaato had lined them up against the far wall after they'd finished hard-locking the other entrances to the bunker at the rebels' behest, and from there they provided answers to Da'lya's questions. The Bothan shouted queries to them from a console across the room as he and his backpack astromech penetrated the Imperial systems.  Petja didn't understand it much, she wasn't much for tech, but it seemed they had certain access codes needed to get around the system security.  It only took a few more moments before Da'lya made the awaited announcement. 

"We're in." 

"You know what to do," Glaato answered, rifle still trained on the technicians. 

"That I do," the Bothan returned, and Petja looked on as he brought the Imperial Army's laser cannons to bear.