Op. No. KY-9914; Pvt. Malik Skaya
121st Battalion, Bravo Company, 1st Platoon, 1st Squad
Lothor Minor | Planetfall - Contact
APPROX. 1200HRS; 5 BBY
"Counting wasn't on the course list in Basic. You know how it is." Trooper KY-9914 called back over the comm link, a warmth behind his ears when he realized how off he'd been.
"Budget cuts." He silently chided himself for it, knowing how dangerous misinformation was during combat. Malik shrugged it off with a quick off-hand joke, hoping that'd be the end of it.
He shifted his attention fully to the firefight at hand. The volume of fire had diminished somewhat as more shots hit their mark and more of the terrorists were brought down, but the constant, thunderous thumping of the three largest cannons on the battlefield continued to drown out all other noise. The Aquellan warrior pressed on ahead alongside the rest of his unit, advancing slowly through cover with increasing bravado now that the enemy's numbers were thinning. If their momentum continued, they'd be storming the base itself soon enough.
Provided that turret didn't mow them all down first, of course.
Skaya was hunkered down behind a rusted out trash compactor, lasers whizzing right over his helmet when Kavis's next set of orders came through. The sergeant wanted Malik and one other Stormtrooper to make for the left-most flank and use the cover there to take out the enemy emplacement while the rest of the squad held their attention. He couldn't say he was all too pleased with the idea of throwing himself into a line of blaster bolts, even if Imperial doctrine dictated it was the most effective method of rapid advancement.
The gears in his head began to turn as he scanned the uneven, trash-soaked ground around him. He quickly went to clip his E-11 to his belt, bending down to grasp at an old, torn tarp that had been discarded on Lothor Minor quite some time ago. After tearing it even further, he tied it about his plastoid-encased neck, forming a rather crude cloak that matched the rustic browns that permeated the planet.
"Camouflage." He explained quickly, already starting to slip over toward the left side of the hill.
"Would rather not get blown to hell before I'm even in range."Malik slid down a pile of trash and debris, his new fashion accessory flapping in the toxic breeze behind him as he made his way toward the target with Kato Okaye at his side. He didn't know the gunner well, but from what little time they'd been together, Skaya had a feeling he could trust the trooper to watch his back; and in return, he would do the same.
"Let's not draw their attention this way if we can't help it," Malik suggested,
"once we're close, I'm going to try to get around and get a clean shot on the rebel manning the gun; if ya could, I'd appreciate some cover from the rest of his buddies." It was a fairly basic plan, but it could prove to be fatally dangerous if they didn't execute it right.
He didn't give Kato much time to argue, either, as Malik bolted from cover the moment they were within visual range of the Junkers' position at the top of the hill.
"Cover me!" He called back, his mud-caked boots splashing in a puddle of something that was decidedly
not water as he charged across the hill, his E-11 now firmly in his hands as he made a mad dash for the gunner. All Malik had to do was find the angle. He just needed to find the shot-
a Junker's head swayed into view from behind a chunk of a fallen star freighter. The red light from its cycling cannon lit up the native's face mask. Too bright to be a standard blaster. Had to be the gunner. The sound of a blast whizzing just past him caused his heart to jump into his throat, but he couldn't let it throw him off. He brought the E-11 to bear, his finger squeezing down on the trigger as another shot impacted in the dirt naught by a few inches from his feet.
'Don't miss don't miss don't-'
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