Guardian Abandoned

The Plan

As I surveyed the map of the area, the true nature of the situation became more and more evident. We were five kilometers away from any supplies, two from the base, and hundreds from any allies. Between the five of us, we had nineteen blaster bolts, ten of which came from my side arm. "Bestil, could you train two other people to operate an assault tank in a short period of time?" I asked, leaning across the table.
"Yes sir." He was quick to respond, but shaky in his answer.
"Then congratulations, you've earned a field promotion, First Sergeant. Take your commander's armor and get it on. It has increased padding and maneuverability. You'll be training myself and Penni on how to effectively pilot an assault vehicle." It felt strange to address troopers by their first names as opposed to their designations, but it seemed appropriate for the situation. "Are you willing and able to undertake this task?" I asked. He seemed hesitant, unsure of himself and the fate of his commander. "First Sergeant?"
"Will we have to leave Commander Spondor behind?" He hesitantly asked.
"Unfortunately, he would only slow us down–"
"Take...the damn...promotion..." The labored sound came from the near corpse in the corner. "If me...being left behind...gives the Empire...a chance...then take it...keep Varactyl Squadron alive...that's an order." When he finished, the room felt more quiet than it ever had before. Bestil's eyes met mine.
"I can teach you. We'll bring the Rebels down." He said firmly. As he began re-outfitting himself, I addressed Vold.
"When we reach the cache, assuming the Rebels haven't discovered it first, we'll take a turret and weld it to the back of the assault tank. You'll have to hold on tightly and mow down as many ground troops as possible to cover us." His response was a simple nod. "Now, Penni, you'll be with me piloting the tank while Bestil takes command for a properly assault the base. First we'll have to make our way to the weapons cache for supplies and ammunition, then we'll move with the assault, then we'll take the base. Any questions?"
"Sir?" Penni asked. "What about the AT-AT? The Rebels used it to devastating effect before...it's the reason there are so few of us left."
"The neck of every AT-AT is unarmored, its poor structure gives room for more maneuverability at the cost of protection. If we can land an anti-armor shell in that spot, the beast should come down. Prepare to move out."
As the team got their things together, I quietly watched the interactions between them. Watching, observing, taking in information was what I was trained for. Vold never spoke, never looked at any of the other troopers, he simply went about his business quietly. His brutal façade was  betrayed by a gentle attention to detail when placing his items in his bag. He was more than just a brute, he was a meticulous personality as well. Bestil had taken the playing card from his old shoulder pad and taped it to the left side of his helmet. His number seven card was placed alongside an ace from his former commander, a nice token to remember his mentor. As he explained the significance to Penni, it became evident to me that the two of them cared for one another, perhaps to an extent that was beyond friendship. While it initially struck me as odd, he seemed so unsure of himself where she seemed so orderly and precise, there is something to be said for two people of opposite natures balancing each other out. The Emperor often spoke of a gentle balance being the most important piece of the Empire's success. "So long as they fear and respect their betters in equal measure, the galaxy will remain in order." He said. This was the balance the Rebellion was threatening to upheave. My attention then turned to the dying commander, still breathing heavily on the floor, still holding on. I was struck with an idea of how he could be of use.
"Spondor, can you stand?" I extended my hand as he nodded. He felt so frail as I pulled him up, like his arm could snap with just a simple maneuver. "My friend..." the label felt disingenuous, in truth I had no friends, but the Emperor often used this word when he wished to exude influence over others. "...do you wish to serve the Emperor one last time?" I asked him quietly. He looked at me and nodded hesitantly. "Each base and bunker on Endor has the capacity to self destruct in order to protect the Emperor's secrets. I want you to wait twenty minutes, allowing us time to get nearly two kilometers away and detonate this bunker to draw the Rebel scum away from us, allowing the Empire to survive another day. Can you do this?" His eyes shifted from fear to determination more quickly than I expected. He was ready and willing, more than likely he had confronted the reality of his death days ago. I patted him on the back. "The Emperor will hear of your valor. The Empire will remember you as a hero, Graf Spondor." I told him firmly before turning to the rest of the troopers. "Squadron, let's move out."