Duty, Honor, Empire: Brothers at Arms

Takes place immediately after the Battle of Yavin
Tales and stories set during the events of Episodes 4-6...

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Duty, Honor, Empire: Brothers at Arms

Post by VagueDurin »


A vast nothingness, unflinching and frozen in time…

That’s what space is. An ebony canvas, interrupted by brilliantly shining stars, but it was still empty, still not capable of supporting life.

It was early morning in this particular section of space… Not because of the position of any sun, that’s just what the chronometer said on the bridge of the Deceitful, an Imperial Carrack Class Cruiser slicing its way through the endless void. The three hundred fifty yard long vessel moved silently, and up ahead was its destination… The planet of Carida. Orbiting the planet was a pair of Acclimator Class Cruisers, and their detachment of starfighters. The Cruiser and its escort of Tie Fighters and Bombers, and a group of Landing Craft were dwarfed in comparison.

The Cruiser set itself into orbit and the Landing Craft rocketed off towards the planets surface. Their pilots gliding it gracefully through the atmosphere and to its designated landing area, which turned out to be a hangar adjacent to the massive troop academy. As the lead craft landed a small formation of troopers gathered on either side, standing at crisp attention. The ramp hissed down with whips of vapor, and the commanders escort troopers descended, standing post at the base of the ramp as the Commander himself walked down the ramp, his Imperial Navy uniform was crisp and pressed, rank shining blindly in the well lit hangar.

Walking in his direction was another Commander, uniform in similar appearance. They half-bowed and the visiting commander fell into step alongside his counterpart as the left the hangar and started down a long corridor.

“I trust that you’re journey was un-eventful?”

“There were no… Surprises.” The visiting commander answered cryptically. “Have we received our orders?” he asked, wasting no time.

“Yes. The Moff is awaiting you in the briefing room. The specifics will be revealed in moments.”

“Good. I grow tired of waiting….”

Meanwhile, at the Academy, a locker room sits empty. Rows of lockers hang uniformly open, and gear sits on the benches in front of them, brilliantly white and blindingly clean. The helmets dark lenses are menacing, even without eyes behind them, and the black E-11 rifles sitting next to them are just waiting to be fired.

“Alright Maggots, Gear Up!” a command is barked from somewhere unseen, and a swarm of bodies run into the room and immediately put on the gear. Their helmets seal into place and they fix their rifles to their hip before snapping to attention in front of their lockers. Not a single trooper dared move, or flinch… Some might not even have taken the chance of breathing as their Instructor entered the room.

His armor was even more impossibly shiny than theirs… which seemed somehow wrong, considering theirs was brand new… and he wore the rank of Master Instructor on his breastplate. Following behind him was their unit commander, whom also wore a rank insignia on his breastplate. The pair made a slow, meticulous circuit around the room, inspecting every last soldier. The Instructor gave an approving grunt, and turned to the commander. The commander executes a textbook salute, and holds it until the instructor returns it and drops his. Then as the Instructor leaves the locker room, the commander turns to his unit.

“Who are We?” he asks in a calm voice.

”The pride of the 865th, Sir.” Came the reply.

The commander shook his head slowly and in a bat of an eyelash his Rifle was in his hand and pointed in between the nearest soldiers’ eye lenses. “I said, Who Are We?

Sir! We are the pride of the 865th Sir! Night Stalkers, The poison laced tip of the Emperors will! Trained to Fight and Trained to Kill! We’re Demons at Heart but we call the Corps Home! And we’ll travel to anywhere our enemies roam! Sir!” The unit bellowed from the bottom of their lungs.

“That’s more like it!” Shouted the commander, removing the rifle from the troopers face. “Now let’s go Get SOME!”

“Ooo Rah!” the troops shouted as the filed out of the room at a double-time pace. Tearing through the corridor they split into their respective squads and boarded their landing craft. The commander followed, chest swelled with pride as he climbed up the last closing ramp. Sublight Engines firing up filled the hangar with a deafening roar as the craft shot forth for space… Carrying the soldiers up and into the void, where they could carve out their destiny.

The Cruiser, and Landing craft group together in a formation above the planet, and begin their push towards the edge of Carida’s gravity field. The Starfighters flying a crisp escort pattern until they breached the field, at which point they landed in the Cruisers carrier bay and the small fleet prepared their countdown.

The commander stood upon the Bridge of the Cruiser, observing his crew as the navigator counted down slowly towards zero. These men were well trained, yes. But they had yet to see carnage. They had yet to kill. He would show them the way. Of that he was sure… But what had him nervous was where he was being sent to show them… Little was know about the Unknown Regions of space… And there was usually a reason for this… As he pondered the possible dangers that they were no doubt to face, the ships accelerated to speeds far exceeding that of light, and the view out the port blurred into the mottled blues and whites of hyperspace…

“And so it begins…” he muttered to himself quietly…

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Post by Topgun220 »

Zeb Navaro, TK-109 to the imperial high command, Niner to his squad. He was overjoyed, so many painful days of boot camp. Constant drilling and inspections. Finally he was going to do what he signed up for. Go to some far off planet where nobody else ever traveled and fight against some evil and maniacal enemy of the galaxy. Soon he would be able to fulfill his dream, he was just sitting in his armor inside one of the dropships for now. Marcus, one of his buddies from boot camp who now sat across from him, opened a private comm channel with him. "Hey Zeb are you ready for this shavit?"
"More than a hutt is ready to bet on a swoop race. Where you think we're heading?" Zeb sent back.
"Probably some outer rim world to stop some unlawful uprising or another."
"If they dare go against the emperor they should be destroyed."
"Yeah...anyway I can't wait to get on board that carrack cruiser! Maybe we'll get lucky and some good looking female Twi'lek officer is going to show us to our barracks."
"Mark you know mingling with imperial navy officers is against regulations right?"
"The Imperial code of conduct was never a very interesting read anyway."
Zeb cracked a smile under his helmet. Marcus could be a loose cannon at times but without him Zeb had no idea how he would have survived boot. He kept him going when Zeb thought he was going to die.
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