Star Wars: The Clone Wars Elements

by Barrobroadcaster

Episode 2: Aggressive Reconaissance

Rok kept the S-foils of the ARC-170 closed to minimize the ship's profile. Flying at high altitude, it wasn't possible to fully mask the ship's visibility, a fact of life. Best they could do was make it look like a meteorite, or debris burning up on reentry. It was sundown over the western hemisphere of Equestria, the planet's rotation gradually turning the side they were over into night. Staying in this area provided them with enough cover to remain covert while still enabling them get optimal surveillance of the planet.

Rule Number-One of any form of reconnaissance: always assume you are being watched.

The three troopers were completely silent. As navigator/commander, Vok was able to interface with their astromech droid, R7-D7 aka Lok via the ship's computer.

Signal traffic has increased 200% in the half-rotation since the main force's landing but no new sources have been identified. Energy readings, thermal and seismic remain consistent. Placement of comms relays at the beachhead on the northern continent have improved communications in that area but all communications, sensors and scanning continue to suffer from irregularities. High and low altitude electromagnetic fluctuations have been identified as a possible source.

Scanning, sensors, comms, the greater eyes and ears of the Republic were being hampered by anomalies across the planet's surface. This far from the Core Worlds, long-range communications were being interfered with by spatial anomalies. This was a bad situation to be in. Were the Seps in the same situation or the source? Either way, it was their job to find out and find out where the Seps were hiding. He had to find a pattern.

Vok: Access local sensors. Recall local patterns in the past fourteen rotations.

Lok: Negative. Natives are using unsophisticated telemetric technology; local grid consists of video recordings. Unable to acquire sensor data.

The ponies didn't use a lot of advanced tech unless it was absolutely necessary. Backwaters were like that and usually religious. Fortunately, there were other ways to get the data they needed.

Vok: Access video recordings. Recall data obtained by Adjudicator and Archer-One's flight computer.

Lok: Accessing... accessing... done. Displaying to mainscreen.

Two simultaneous images were displayed on Vok's computer screen. One was a video feed from a local camera on the Crystal Empire, the other was the sensor logs from their Venator's computer and Payday's Y-Wing. What Vok was looking for was where any anomalies started. Archer Squadron entered the atmosphere along with the main invasion force, the Adjudicator didn't but was still in orbit. If there was a pattern to the disruption in their sensors, it would appear in all three recordings.

And there it was. Sensors were spotty from the beginning, but increased as the clouds overhead increased and dissipated when the cloud cover was gone. There were no other major shifts in any other readings- the clouds themselves were the source of the disruption. Not only that, the weather pattern intensified only in the areas where Republic comms were more active, proportionately, almost as if-

Vok felt a chill hit the base of his neck. "Comms check."

"Check."
"Check." The voices of both of his squad mates came back instantly, clear. That just left Lok.

Lok: Long-range signals disrupted; unable to contact command.

There was his answer. They were already being jammed. Whether it was active-directed jamming or just passive specific-signal targeting, they were being jammed. Within minutes of slipping into the cloud cover, comms were disrupted. Using cloud cover, sunlight, eclipses, meteor showers, it was all early textbook tactics of the GAR and they all used it from landing craft to fighter squadrons. Someone knew exactly how they were going to play before the game even started.

Vok: Be advised: Enemy may be aware of standard GAR tactics. Record now.

Lok: Affirmative.

It was the clouds. It had to be the clouds.

"Rok, find us the densest concentration of clouds- now."

"Aye, cap."

"And lock S-foils in attack position."

Rok smiled and let just the shortest, coldest of chuckles slip from his lips. "Aye," he said again.

---

The second flight of Vulture droids came at them almost identically to the first. Shok fired in short bursts of three at each of the droids, hitting them right in their fuel supplies. Each of the Vultures exploded into cinders with each burst, barely a few burnt grams of degrees were left of them in seconds. He had to be that accurate, had to hit them and destroy each in a single burst. A glancing shot or just hitting its maneuvering thrusters would send it spinning to the ground, still able to transmit data. Maybe even survive the landing, seeing as how the damn droids could walk.

Meanwhile, Rok kept the ship steady and Vok analyzed the terrain from what little the sensors could provide. There was no chance for them to fallback to the Venators or the staging area now; they'd be dead before they broke atmosphere. A trio of Vulture droids at a time, they could handle but an entire squad or more would overwhelm the tailgun no matter how quick Shok was on the trigger. They'd fire through each other, fire all at the same time and the ARC-170 would be dust.

Then, the situation got worse.

"Floor us- now!!"

The silhouette of three Tri-Fighters appeared barely a blip on the sensors before they were in firing range. Rok closed the S-foils again just as a barrage of red lasers streaked past them. The pilot spun the craft ninety degrees and jackknifed it to the ground, just as Payday had showed him. The bombers, ARCs and Z-95s were able to pull off the maneuver, known as a Power Dive if they pulled it off properly, but the LAATs, shuttles and V-19s had trouble because of their wider, bent wings. The ARC-170 could only pull it off when its S-foils were closed.

They were being chased but they were still heading in the right direction. The cloud layer got thicker and the droids were still pursuing, but they were close to the ground. They could deal with the chasing Tris more easily now but if they ran into anti-air, they'd be in trouble fast.

Instead, they nearly ran into something else.

"Freighter!!"

Rok rolled the craft out of the flight path of a Trade Federation freighter. But two of the pursuing fighters weren't so lucky- they crashed into the underside of the bulky ship as it took off towards the atmosphere.

"We're flying over a base," Rok announced.

"Separatist signals confirmed."

"Clankers on the ground."

And that was when Vok looked up from the sensors. In the brief moments, the fractions of a second, despite the bad visibility, his eyes saw a lot. ARC troopers had some of the fastest reflexes ever genetically engineered, the fastest reflexes ever. It enabled them to see details, to notice things, to process them all faster than the average person. Barely a glance through the fog was all Vok needed to see.

There were ruins, droids, ponies and starships. Some on the ground, some in the air, and a massive tube, a space elevator possibly descended from the clouds to the ground. Trade Federation freighters were assembled with a couple TF Landers in the back, the standard MTTs surrounding it and AATs patrolling. Too early to consider it Sep Central; the droids did everything big, quick and lots of it. Early recon missions(not considered by most ARCs to be true recon) would establish a location as a main CIS base or starport on a planet when in reality it was just an outpost. These occurrences have happened less frequently as of late.

"Here." Vok pinpointed a position reasonably far away from the outpost, a small bend in a river nearby. Guns on the landers were already tracking them, as was every battle droid on the ground in the vicinity.

The ARC-170's S-foils closed and the ship raced towards the spot Vok indicated. Its repulsorlifts brushed flurries of leaves from the tops of the trees with how close they were flying to the canopy. When they reached the bend in the revier, Rok pulled back hard, pitching it up while cutting the forward engines. The fighter vanished beneath the canopy.

All three of them disembarked the fighter while it was still hovering, one by one, weapons already drawn. Vok had one of his blasters drawn and the other keyed his commlink.

"Lok, pattern Sigma-Four. Head to position 2." The droid responded with action and the fighter quickly took off again, S-foils engaged.

Vok, Rok and Shok spared a glance at the ARC-170, the briefest of glances. Not for the ship but for the droid. Even a metal comrade was still a fellow soldier and they deserved some respect, especially when making the ultimate sacrifice. Lok was a good droid but not a pilot droid; maybe five minutes before he'd be shot down, somewhere far away from where they inserted.

"Plan?" Shok asked.

"Comms. Slice. Failing that, loud."

"Copy." The trio drew their blasters and set into the jungle, each taking a different path. Vok took the long way around, heading with the river a good distance. They all worked fast and silently, faster than even clone commandos could work and much quieter. Regular commandos had a habit of getting chatty on the comms but they were ARCs. They spoke through actions.

Rok was the one that went straight for the outpost while Shok would find a fuel depot, munitions stockpile or anything that exploded. It wasn't the best of plans, but one they were familiar with: Rok would slice into the enemy communications and get a message with positions to the rest of the Republic's forces. They'd also be able to cause some general havoc with the outpost itself that way, maybe take out a few freighters. If that failed or they were spotted some other way, the plan as usual was to blow up as much as they could, cause as much damage as they could so the Republic would have an easier job or at least find this place.

Survival was always the last, unspoken part of any plan. The job came first. That was true for the regs, true for the commandos and pilots and them included. Every moment counted, every blaster bolt counted and it was all to get the job done and getting home was an afterthought. Home was what you took with you, that small and warm part inside your chest you checked on now and then to make sure you were still alive and were human.

A dull explosion reverberated from the distance, just barely rumbling the ground beneath Vok's feet. The water in the river, calm, felt the disturbance. Lok and their fighter, likely. Hadn't lasted as long as Vok would've liked; air presence must be heavy, ground security would likely be the same. This might be a major base and that meant STAP patrols.

He got off the river, blaster pistols drawn and crept his way into the jungle. Quiet, quick, alone.

Comments

[Bronycommander]

nice work once again

[Barrobroadcaster]

11603754
Thank you.

[Bronycommander]

11604015
youre welcome