***Two Years Ago***
On Borosk, he walked past the indoor firing range on the catwalk that ran above it. Some of the Special Missions Troopers, the "regulars" on Borosk, were receiving their yearly marksmanship certification. Eventually the catwalk became a maintenance shaft, before going over the kill house. He looked down, and saw a group of Commando Candidates going through. He smiled, as he avoided the Training Cadre that were on the catwalk grading them. He had memories of that time, only a year ago, when he was putting every part of his being into the trials and tribulations just to enter the training to become a Commando. Here he was now, part of an experimental unit. Over the past year, they had done even further training before they were considered as operational. He knew what lied ahead, making his way to the briefing room from the firing range; if they were being briefed, they were being sent out.
"The Ghosts", as they were becoming affectionately known, were of a new school of thought in the Commando community. The Commandos were organized into nine Special Forces Groups, one assigned to each Rim of the Galaxy as well as two for special regions of the Galaxy, Wild Space and the Unknown Regions, each containing three companies. Each company contained six Operational Detachments of twelve Commandos, with a general specialization for each Detachment; those being- urban combat, wilderness warfare, infiltration, space operations, zero-g warfare, and pathfinders. Those twelve man teams could be divided up into two teams of six, and often were to cover more ground on the surface. Each company also had support detachment, as well as there being a Company Headquarters. For the "Ghosts", they were a fourth company, with a goal of holding eighteen four man teams, although currently only having two, which were made up of Commandos trained in absolutely every aspect of the Commando specializations, as well as every aspect of warfare itself, and capable of doing virtually anything asked of them, at anytime, anywhere. They were "tier one" operators, open to complete their missions in any way, at any cost, by any means. They did not exist. Outside of the Special Operations Command, and the High Command, no one knew of their existence. Should they become a successful unit, the idea was to be implemented in the other Groups, but for now, they were in the Fifth...the Group assigned to the Outer Rim. It was the most active among the Groups, although it was beginning to become common for the other Groups, especially those out of the interior, to be deployed out here.
It was a mark of pride for him to be part of this test of concept operation, and now was coming time for them to prove themselves. He knew it, he felt it in his gut. Once he made his way into a turbolift farther into the facility, he found himself within seconds stepping out into the briefing room. He saw that his team was here, as well as Captain Iago Themion's team. Orion didn't have a high view of Themion particularly; his family was part of the Quintad of Eriadu, and he was arranged to be married to Rivoche Tarkin by her father once she came of age, with Moff Wilhuff Tarkin supposedly pushing for him to be placed in this unit, who also pushed for his commissioning out of the Eriadu militia as a Captain, at the age of eighteen. He, shockingly, did actually pass the selection process (one of the few things connections could never penetrate in the Empire), and did pass the training. In exercises, e often sent his own team members ahead of himself, and went out of his way to kill civilians. The Empire didn't particularly care, but Fordo was often harassing him for it, especially when he went off-mission, and Orion himself had no respect for it. Sure, civilians were bound to be killed, it was the nature of war, but to actively hunt them down for what ever reason, he found to be dishonorable. He took his seat among them, and they began to converse when he heard a door open. He shot straight to his feet into a tight point of attention. "TEN HUT!" he yelled, snapping the other to such. A man, older but obviously experienced in combat, and personally a man that had kicked their asses up and down The Pit in hand-to-hand training, walked out. "At ease." he said casually before taking his spot at the podium in the room. The lights darkened as they took their seats with a slight scuffle. This man that stood before them was their Advisor, the architect of this initiative. He had staked his career upon this, after decades in special forces himself. He was General Fordo, one of the original ARC Troopers from the Clone Wars. Their superiors mandated that they call him ALPHA-77 in comm chatter and official documentation, but personally, he had told them to call him Fordo...if they beat him in hand-to-hand. So far, Orion was the only one to do so, his Echani background being the trump card in that fight, once they were on equal ground in other regards. Intelligently, he had commonly left his Echani training out of the mix when being trained in hand-to-hand. He was reprimanded by the head of SOCOM for not revealing his Echani training to the Empire, but praised by Fordo for keeping the surprise tactic. Despite constant requests, he refused to train any of his unit members in Echani...only Fordo had that distinction, which had ended up making him damn near unbeatable in The Pit.
A planet came up on the holoprojector, grabbing their attention, and ripping away any thoughts they had in that moment. "You're looking at Renatasia. It's in the Centrality, discovered a little over two years ago. Up until that point, the planet was still divided into small nations, just developing energy weapons and space travel less than a century ago, with still no knowledge of faster than light travel. For the past several hundred days, they've been in constant celebration at the arrival of two of our agents, posing as members of a galactic civilization wishing to bring them into the fold. News of their discovery was leaked, and portions of the resistance to the Empire has taken advantage of the situation. A group of individuals working for rogue Kaminoans, who the 501st is taking care of right now, were able to build a planetary shield for the Renatasians. They've also sold to them Clone Wars and earlier equipment to replace their dated technology. So far, it is only a limited scale effort." he said, before a location on the planet was shown.
"Here is the location of the generator. You are to infiltrate the planet, under the cover of night, head to this facility, and destroy the planetary shield just before dawn...hopefully eliminating local opposition before hand. At dawn in this area, our invasion forces will arrive and being to immediatly offload surface forces. We expect random to light resistance at our display of force, according to our agent. You will receive further orders following the successful landing of our main forces, and assist in their efforts and operations." he said, before the holoprojector shut off and the lights came back up. "Are we going alone, sir?" asked Themion. The nineteen year old was always worried about being alone...whether it be Orion's team supporting him or having an army at his back. He shook his head lightly as Themion's question. Fordo nodded to him, "Yes. Both teams will operate together on this assignment, in addition, a squad of operators is being assigned by Intelligence from their Destabilization Branch." His ears perked up at this new detail. "Destab, Fordo? Can they be serious? They're like throwing a rabid fighting dog into a pit full of newborn kittens." he remarked, bringing a smile on Fordo's face; not only had they become close enough for him to call him Fordo, but their ranks were largely disregarded in conversation, much to the dismay of their superiors. "Captain Karath, every part of the Empire is integral and vital in its role and to the operation of the Empire as a whole. Every part is deserving of the same respect and honor. I suggest you show it as you would show our benevolent Emperor his proper respect," chided Themion. At that point, he was hating this mission. Trying to keep Themion on a leash was going to be hard enough as it was...having four or five more of him wasn't going to help. "I will be directing the operation from a near by point in deep space. Control in the field however will be given to Captain Karath, by order of the SOCOM commander, citing his previous combat experience," said Fordo in an attempt to ease the tension that just exploded in the room. "General ALPHA-77..." Themion began to say, before being cut off by Orion. "Thank you, sir. You can relay that to the General for me."
With that, they were dismissed, geared up, and headed to the landing pad. There, a Lambda awaited them. On the Landing Pad, it was noticeable that Themion was not with them. Orion was the last begin to board, but was stopped by Fordo. "Orion!" he heard called out to him. He turned and faced the General, giving him a salute. "You can count on me, sir," he responded. Fordo returned the salute, but shook his head. "I don't need the orders of an old man or a look at your previous record to know that you're the man to lead this unit," he said. He nodded to him, "Thank you, sir." Fordo crossed his arms, visibly concerned. "Themion talked to me after the briefing, complaining about your appointment as field commander," he said, pacing. "He's filing a grievance, and said he's going to go to Tarkin about it. He's going to have you removed from the unit after the mission," he said. 'When it rains, it pours...' he thought to himself. "Don't worry, sir. I won't let this effect me or the mission. We'll deal with this when we get back," he said, attempting to reassure his, surprisingly, concerned commander. Fordo and himself shook hands. "Good luck, Captain," said Fordo before heading back down into the citadel. As he walked up the boarding ramp, Themion came running behind. Listening to his steps, without looking, he extended his arm into the side of the boarding ramp, denying Themion access... and nearly clothes-lining him. Too bad he was paying attention, a shocking surprise. He turned, before Themion could catch his balance from the sudden stop, grabbed the straps of his pack, and held him steady, his toes barely able to maintain contact with the ramp. "I've been told that you're going to have be drummed out of the unit. Trust me, I will not make this easy for you...it will not be quick nor enjoyable. You will regret this day for the rest of your life, and when we get back, you will be shown what happens when you place yourself before the unit, and more importantly, betray the unit. I will not tolerate this action within the unit...and I will do my damned best, to see you drummed out of the unit...after you have been taught your lesson. You will respect my orders and decisions on this operation as if the Emperor himself were telling them to you or you will regret ever even making the journey into your mother's egg back when you were a small seed of your father's loins," he said with his voice calm, even slightly hushed, but his face showing every inclination of rage. He then let go of the young fool, who's heels hit the ramp hard and he began to fall backwards. After a second, Orion reached out and caught his collar, holding him there for a few seconds, and then pulling him back towards him. Once Themion was stable, he let go, and walked into the Shuttle. None of the troops saw this moment, and upon entering, Themion ducked into the refresher to attempt to clean the urine from his pants that he had leaked on them during their 'discussion'.
Added (22 Oct 2010, 10:22 PM)
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A day later, he was jumping out from the Lambda Shuttle that had carried them to Renatasia. It was begining of night, and the air was cold; it was winter on this side of the planet and he could see his breath when he exhaled. It was fortunate that they had a cold-weather variant of their uniform, at leas the Army did. It was essentially a thicker version of their uniform that went over the one already worn. A few extra layers helped block blaster fire, so for many, a cold weather mission was prefered. There was also the Greatcoat, similar to the cold-weather uniform, but with a fur lining inside and a fur lined hood built in, which they didn't wear right now but had in their packs.They were clad in black, and their faces painted, armed with their usualy loadout and ready to accomplish their mission quickly.
However, much to Karath's chagrin, they were running on Destab's time table, not his. If it were up to him, they would be getting ready to hit the target now. However, the Destab team was already on the surface, and they were to rendevouz with them at their campsite. As soon as all eight of the Commandos were on the ground, they moved, before the Lambda could even begin to depart from its location hovering over the forest. "Specter, Ghost 6; we are green, boots on the ground. En route to Waypoint Aurek," he said into his comm quietly. Fordo's voice came across, "Ghost 6, Specter Actual, affirmative. Reaper 6 will take operation command upon reaching your waypoint."
Within ten minutes, they made their way into the camp, seemingly ready for an ambush to find a campfire going and men playing cards, all around having a good time. He shook his head. "Roxley, douse that fire," he said, walking up to one of the Destab agents. "What the hell is going on? This is an infiltration job...are you guys that retarded that you're marking yourselves?" he said aloud. "Touch that fire, Commando, and it's the end of your career," said a deep voice from behind Roxley as he neared the campfire. He stopped dead in his tracks, while Orion put his sights on the man by instinct. "Easy boys, we're on the same side. We've set up proximity sensor net. We knew you were on the ground. We know of anything that comes near us long before they're in visual or audio range of us," said the man as he approached Karath. The man offered him a hand, and he shook it with reservation. "Agent Porvos, Imperial Intelligence," stated the man. He nodded to him, "Captain Karath," he responded.
After everyone was introduced a few of the Commandos entered the card game that was going on, a competitve game of poker. He decided to watch for a time, but eventually wandered off. Hanley, a man who was perhaps his right hand, eventually approached him. He has slumped against a tree, sitting on the ground, with his Repeating Rifle on his lap. He was far out enough that his cigarette was the main source of light. Although it wasn't well known, Karath was a man of excess. He smoked, but only clove cigarettes rather than traditional ones, and cigars. Cigars were a common commodity among the military, even non-smokers enjoyed them from time to time among their brothers in arms. However, smoking itself was a little obsure. Smoking did occur, in rather high amount, throughout the military, but few were actual smokers. Some only smoked when on a combat deployment to deal with stress, and others only smoked while in the military and never around those that knew them outside that life. Karath, he was an on and off smoker through adolescence, but by now, he was a full time one. He enjoyed cloves due to their unique characteristics. The flavor was different from traditional cigarettes, it was a sweet, pleasant taste; the opening drags left a sweetness on one's lips that was indescribable. It did not leave the tell-tale smell of a smoker on the smoker either, rather a unique scent that was like a cologne than anything. The smell of a burning clove was also unique, you either loved the smell or hated it. Those that loved it, noted it was almost as sweet as the clove itself, and certainly more pleasant for those around the smoker than a traditional. Those that hated it, commonly remarked its strong resemblence to cinnamon, calling them 'cinnamon sticks'. For Karath, there was nothing like it, and he didn't want anything else, despite any detractors. He also enjoyed his alcohol, known among his peers as something of a tank when it came to booze; many jokes attributed this to his Corellian background. He enjoyed beer, but primarily hard ciders rather than regular hops brews. He also enjoyed whisky and brandy, refusing since twenty to touch vodka, as it made him 'weird'. Typically, he was a happy and flirty drunk, but when he drank with vodka it messed with his perceptions; even when drunk he always had clear perceptions no matter the amount of drunkeness...except on vodka which skewed his interpretations of body language and even interpretation of speech. He had never done horrible things from the effects, such as rape, but an experience with a good friend, with whom he had a brother-sister relationship, during a party, which while everyone crashed they shared a room with him on the floor and her in a bed. At some point, he attempted to crawl into bed with her, and was repeatedly pushed off. He had no recollection of the event, and while his friend maintained that it was merely a drunken moment, he could never forgive himself...and things never seemed quiet the same between them.
Hanley tended to look out for him, both being friends since elementary and like brothers since. Hanley knew that he was annoyed and bothered by this mission. He walked up, noting that he was smoking, and lit up his own clove, taking a seat by him and assuming the same position. "Alright Boss, tell me what's on your mind," he said to him in a relaxed tone. He shook his head, "This mission is fubar. Destab is not a unit that should be apart of this op. They're reckless and all loose cannons who love nothing more than to overstep their bounds and station in their spare time... when not torturing animals or scaring children. And don't even get me started on Themion, that blood sucking, worthless, slimy, backstabbing, pampered, son of a bitch. He's nothing more than a stain of a man," he said visibly agitated, taking several drags as he spoke. "You know...we can make sure he doesn't get back to base," suggested Hanley. He shook his head, "No," ending any thought of such an action. Hanley took his own drags before speaking again, "I feel bad for Roxley. He's been wanting into our squad since he came into the unit." He shook his head, "I know. I'm not giving up you or Chavez, that's for sure. I barely want to give up Xenco, but Roxley is damn good," he said, trying to ease his mind off of the thought of what happened before they left.
They sat in silence for the remainder of the time they sat there, both finishing their cigarettes, and then rose. Slowly, they made their way back into the camp, where the card game was already over. "What happened to the cards?" he asked as Hanley went off to take a seat by the fire. "Chavez already cleared everybody out," replied Roxley. "Damn, Chavez. I figured you would have gone easy on your first time against these guys," he said over to him. Chavez laughed, "No sir, never. I'm trying to get good enough to beat you.' He laughed, many a pay had been lost to him on Borosk. "Good luck, Sergeant," he said, then taking a seat by the fire himself.
Added (29 Oct 2010, 11:03 PM)
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When it hit 0300 local time, they moved, breaking camp, and heading for their target inside the capital city on its edges. The city itself was nestled inside a valley, surrounded by mountains. Their target was nestled into the mountainside, near one of the many passes that broke through the mountains and into the city.As they encroached from the wooded area, his team lead the way. As they came on the edge of the treeline, he took his Marksman's sniper rifle, and checked out the sight. "I don't like this..." he said with hushed breath. Before he could say anymore, there was a buzz in his ear. "Captain, what's the hold up? We're on a timetable here,' said the Destab leader. "Intel is faulty. This isn't a planetary shield generator... it's a damn hospital," he responded, hushed, into his comm. "I don't give a damn if it's the Imperial Palace, we have our orders. Attack the structure at that location," responded the man. He shook his head, sighing. "Rules of Engagement prohibit direct assaults on non-militarized and/or non-fortified civilian structures, especially with no military presence in or around the structure," he responded back, now looking towards the higher elevation where the Destab team was making their way into a sniping position. "Captain, DO NOT recite the Rules of Engagement to me. If you don't attack, I will personally execute you. Do you hear me? I am activating the AT3 Directive, and ordering you to attack that structure!" shouted the Destab leader, at least as much as one could shout at the moment. "Blast it..." he cursed to himself, turning the safety off on his weapon and scanning the area once more. "Captain, what's an AT3 Directive?" asked Chavez. "Means we have to do everything he says or we'll be charged with Treason and summarily executed," he responded grimly, handing back the sniper rifle. For the first time the entire mission, Captain Themion spoke up, "I'm not dying for you," he said, motioning to his team and charging out of the treeline. "Wait!" he called out.
They did not listen, and before he knew it, the indiscriminate sniper fire from the Destab team poured from the ridge. "This is fubar..." he muttered, motioning his team to move forward and keep up with Themion. By the time they hit the entrance of the structure, Themion's team was entering after using a breaching charge on the door, and ran in, shooting anything in sight. When his team moved in, the sight was unimaginable. His fears were right, this was nothing more than a hospital...and before him lay countless innocent civilians, dead or dying. Doctors, nurses, patients... men, women, children; it didn't matter to Themion. He knew Themion realized this was a hospital, and this enraged him. He went on, however, with the operation, moving through the structure, and within ten minutes, it was cleared and obvious beyond any doubt that it was nothing more than a hospital. They all stood on the roof, and once Destab notified them that they were clear, he went into a corner and lit up a cigarette. "So, Captain Karath..." Themion began, with a sudden uppercut into his left jaw with a powerful right from Hanley, knocking him to the floor. He did nothing, not a damn thing but smoke his cigarette as the team members broke up the ensuing scuffle. By the time he had finished his cigarette, everyone on the rooftop was calm, and silent; which was broken very soon by the sounds of sirens. "Ghost 6, Hunter 6... we have incoming local authorities. Prepare to defend that structure," came the voice of the Destab leader, finally using correct comm protocol. He merely pressed down on the buttons at his collarbone and after a moment emotionlessly said, "Copy, Hunter 6."
For the next forty-five minutes, a firefight ensued, between local authorities in the streets, and the Commandos on top of the Hospital and the Destab team in the hills. It seemed that Destab had an endless armory with them, as they soon were bringing out nearly any weapon one could think of to use on the locals. "Are they daft?" called out Hanley, noting their lack of conserving ammo. Eventually a scream pierced the rooftop; Themion was hit. "Medic!" called out Roxley, to which one of Themion's team member ran over to Themion while Roxley took his position, covering them. Once he could, he made his way over to them. "What's the damage, Doc?" he asked the attending Commando, Staff Sergeant Dufraine. "He's hit in the chest... looks like by a slug. Damage to the heart and lungs," he said casually. He looked down, and Themion was obivously struggling, and a little pink blood could be seen out of his mouth, "Do what you can..." he said, falling back on the opposite side of the roof, which none of them had been on. "Hunter 6, Ghost 6; we have a man down. Repeat, taking casualties..." he said, trailing as something caught his eye. The snow behind the hospital seemed to rise unusually steeply compared to the rest of the buildings in the area, and not only that, but oddly shaped. When he saw a man come running out of the snow itself, he knew it. "And I think I found your shield," he said, cutting the comm. He raised up, and shot the man that was running out, and then turned back to all of them. "Both teams, on me. Prepare to rappel," he ordered. Dufraine protested however, "Captain, what about Themion?", "Leave him, he's dead anyways," he responded. Quickly, all seven remaining Commandos were ready to go down, when Themion yelled at him. "KARATH!!! HELP ME!!!" he screamed, his words gurgled and coarse. He threw him a thermal detonator, "That was probably your last breath," he responded, and then descended down.
Added (29 Oct 2010, 11:41 PM)
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It was 0400, they had exactly one hour before the fleet would be dropping out of hyperspace and landing troops on this side of the planet. As they hit the ground on the backside of the hospital, the camouflage net, albeit a massive one, was painfully obvious. It was stuff like this that made him want to wait to move in. He ignored any and all calls at this point on his comm by the Destab team leader, to the point that the Commandos switched over to another channel. Immediately, they took cover, and as they did so, the locals began peeling back the camo. "They're expecting us..." noted Karols. He nodded, wondering how bad this operation was about to get. "Alright, we have enough det packs to blow this thing twice over. Let's get it done... high speed, low drag," he told all of them, before rising over their cover and quickly dispatching twenty local soldiers who were working on rolling back the camo. Quickly, they made their way towards the generator, that was lightly guarded; only ten more soldiers stood in their way.
Quickly, they spread out within the generator, as the sound of reinforcements could be heard mounting outside. After a total of five minutes, from time of assaulting the generator, they were running out at a sprint, firing their way across the street and into the treeline. As soon as they hit it, they were knocked forward and off their feet at the shield generator exploded behind them. All of them curled up into a protective position as debris rained down on them, with all of them making it out okay. As he stood up, he looked back at the scene behind him. The hospital had been taken out in the blast, and what enemy forces had been in the street, both man and machine, were blown into a block of shops, destroying it. They quickly made their way back towards their camp, where they were to be picked up along with the Destab team in two hours. None of them even bothered for a grave for Themion.
