Creating God Killers--Dev Thread (PM for invite)

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal stepped off the transport, his boots hit the makeshift landing pad with a crunch. The air kicked around him, making his black trench coat whip around with a mind of its own. The Rodian sun overhead beat down on them without mercy. A pair of soldiers came in behind him, members of the elite Alpha company that served as his honor guard for the occasion. And what an occasion this was.

The base around them was circled with a massive wall to keep out the local wildlife of Rodia. They were far from civilization, in the swamps for this mission. Deep secret, for a start of a whole new generation of warfare to fight the strongest enemy facing the galaxy at large. There were several buildings within the encampment, all made from the same corrugated metal.

One of the officers reported to Ardgal with a smart salute. He returned it.

"Sir. The recruits are assembled and ready in the main lecture room," he reported.

"Very good, Captain. Let's carry on." he stepped along the duracrete sidewalk to the massive main lecture hall.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Inside, Ardgal was pleased with what met his eyes. Before him were the fresh recruits for this program. Thousands had applied, of them only a select few had been deemed worthy of the call. They were soldiers, the galaxy had created them from the wars of the Sith, Jedi, Mandolorians, the Techno Union, and other criminal factions now long gone. But they all had one thing in common; they hated Force Users.

"Each of you are here because of two things," the general addressed them. His voice carried through the massive building with authority and power. "First, you are all soldiers. You are good at what you do, you are skilled, you are hardened and you have proven yourselves in the field of battle. Some of you are highly decorated.

"The second reason is you hate force users. Your family. Your friends, for some of you even your own home worlds have been taken by Jedi and ravaged by Sith. You want the chance to strike back. To make a difference. I give you now the chance to stand for something. We will sculpt your bodies, your minds, and condition you to do that. I hope your ready for the weeks ahead of you. Welcome to Hell Camp."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The first week was simple enough for the soldiers Ardgal and his men had chosen. It was essentially boot camp, only so much more intense. They were pushed to the limit, constantly rowing, running, swimming, marching, pushups, pullups, sit ups, and climbing till they could no more. From sun up to sun down there was nothing but work. The labor was intense and to them it was nothing new. All had passed bootcamp at one point. Some were even spec ops units.

But the point of the week wasn't to get them into shape like before, it was to weed out the weak. If they could not stand through this, they had no chance in the weeks ahead. Hell Camp only let the strongest and the most willing through its flames, refining them into the most efficient machines of war. Those not willing to suffer for the cause were not worthy of it.

By the end of the week, they had gone down from 500 to 460.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"An army is only as strong as its squad," shouted the Corporal to the men and women before him. "There are no cow boys and one man shows on the battle field. And when your fighting the Force user, that's even more so."

Ardgal sat back from his hidden perch, watching. Two weeks of preparation, education, and training had come down to this first drill.

"Your squad will each attack the Force User in question and together you will pass or fail. We need teams not @#&$ heads who think they can go commando on some force @$$," the Corporal continued, "Each team will be sent into the training area to find and Eliminate the Rabbit," the code name for the Force User padawan that RMIA had hired for this mission. If the teams could not finish this, they had no chance in the coming weeks with the more advanced weaponry and difficulties. "You will each have one hour. Now shift it!"

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The Urban Test weeded the crews down even smaller than before. The danger alone of the conditions sent ten to the infirmary with broken bones. Too bad for them, they would get a second chance with the next class. Ardgal admired their heart. They had earned their spot here with the dedication they showed. Of the teams 70% passed, leaving 80 squads of 4 each. The Alpha Company took their passing recruits and reviewed replays with them in extensive lectures. They helped them see what worked and what really didn't. What was reckless, what was skilled and what was plain lucky.

"Coordination and efforts are key here," said one of Alpha company before his students. "Sure, they got the Force. Yeah they are stronger, faster and possibly more skilled than you. But they are still a mortal, mortals die and they can't be everywhere at once. I don't care what they tell you, Force Users are not gods. During the clone Wars the Jedi were systematically eliminated. How? Team work. Hitting them on all sides, even the strongest Force user cannot stand up to your efforts. They will fall. And they will die. They will slip up and miss something, or they will get tired and lose their concentration. It's the long game. It's using your head against theirs. Your strongest tool."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Of course Force Users were skilled. Of course they could fight and stand strong against many things.... But even their skills had weaknesses. Kinks in the armor. To most they looked like gods. But if you knew where to hit and what with, you could bring them to their knees in seconds. That was what the next phase of training was about.

Sonic weapons, the poor man's Ylasarmi, could stun, disorient, and cause internal bleeding to even the strongest Force Users. A cooked stun grenade, thermal detonator, or frag could ravage their minds and bodies. Flame throwers could bake them alive--or in the very least absorb their focus long enough for another soldier to put a slug thrower throguh the Force-user's skull.

The tools themselves were just tools, but in the hands of someone who knew how to use them it was an art. Adding teamwork into the mix made the squads and their weapons another level higher. Sure a Knight or a master could probably shrug off a sonic round or a frag grenade--but could they do both at the same time? While dodging slug thrower rounds and a flame thrower? Most would be lost to find themselves against such odds.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"If your mind is your most effective, what can you do against someone who can fool you? What about someone who can convince you they were never there?" the Corporal asked. "If I could wave my hand in front of your face and make you believe I had never been here, how many recon missions would you succeed in?" he stood silent, letting the point sink in. "The most dangerous part of a Force User starts before the shooting begins. In the battle of the mind."

"That is why you have what will be one of the most vital parts of your training here," Ardgal said, stepping forward from beside the Corporal. "We've hired a Force User to help train your minds against mental affects. This telepath will teach each of you ways to fight against their mind-changing ways. They will show you practical ways to know when your being tapped, how to fight against it, and what to do when you have already been shifted away."

He looked over all of them. There would be many who were simply not strong enough to make the cut here. There would be many who couldn't stand it and would only break. Then there were those who would excell. And those were the ones he wanted in his army. "As you can tell you've been split in two, A group will stay here. B group, come with me please."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The recruits followed after Ardgal to the sand pits. Before they had been physically trained here. Endless IT drills pushups without number and squats without measure had taken place. But now they would experience combat drills like they never had before.

"While its best to not fight the Force Users on their own turf, chances are it will happen," Ardgal said standing in the middle of the pit. "Saber Jockeys can be hard to fight without going into mellee. While its not impossible to beat them, it's harder. The key is to stay together. Attack from multiple fronts and they will give in. Just like the fire fight, their concentration will give out and if you hit them hard enough in the right places they will break just like anything else."

"Sir, aren't lightsabers able to cut through most anything, sir?" asked one of the recruits.

Ardgal gave an admissive nod, "And they weigh next to nothing. Thing is most Force users take that strength as an advantage. They rely on it too strongly. They flow with finesse and speed expecting everything to go well. It's true you can't break the lightsaber, but you can break the hand that holds it." he let the idea linger for a moment. "we take them on from multiple fronts, they cannot stop you."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The next several weeks the recruits spent there days filled with work. They alternated between learning to withstand mental attacks and the melle combat. A whole new style of combat was opened for them. They learned to block the forearm and stop the blade weilder's arm rather than focus on the weapon itself. They learned to fight in sync; whoever was taking the enemy's focus the other two would counter with kicks to the knees, punches to the throat, elbows to the soloplexus, knees to the groin, and headbutts. The power was in the synchronization of assaults from a variety of levels all at once. The training was intense, each squad leaned to think as one mind. Their prior weeks of team building was paying off in a very real way. It was pleasing for Ardgal to see his groups becoming tighter, more like brothers and less like individual soldiers. That in the end was what would make them god killers.

Of course not everyone could learn to stop the powers of telepathy. For them it was not the end, they had a second chance in the next training group. If not, well, it was best of luck to them. But most passed--it took a jarring level of will to make it this far through Hell Camp. The endless drills, the endless learning could only be passed by the strongest and the most cunning.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The tapping on the door made Ardgal look up from his paperwork. Reports, assessments of performance, and outlying work for the rest of RMIA was still going on, even if he was working on creating the next breed of super soliders."Come in."

One of the officers, a Corporal stepped in. He was young, spry, and Ardgal recognized him almost immediately. The young man had proven himself in prior battles, as all of Alpha Company had. "General, sir."

Ardgal offered him a smile and a seat, "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes sir. It's about rhe recruits." said the young man sitting across from his leader. Ardgal could see him clench his jaw before speaking, "I feel you may be pushing them too hard," he was careful to add, "sir."

Ardgal folded his hands together and leaned back in his chair. It was always important for a general to listen to his men, especially his officers concerning them. He tilted his head slightly, "That's a strong possibility, why do you say that?"

"Moral is low. We've washed out a lot of recruits. Some were good. Highly decorated. I don't know if we are making the correct call here."

"Your right on all accounts," Ardgal agreed. "We are pushing them too hard. But do you really think that fighting force users is going to be easy? Or that these men will find their lives and missions easy?"

"No," the Corporal admitted. "But--still, sir, is it the wisest thing? Are you sure that your thinking strait?"

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal pursed his lips. He was a good judge of character, especially among his troops. "Speak plainly, officer."

"Could it be that Blackstone is clouding your vision?" the Corporal asked bluntly.

Ardgal's jaw tensed as he felt a flash of anger. The operation had gone down horrifically, visions of the mission flashed through his mind. Five years ago the Alpha Company had been on a solid extraction mission. Then Ardgal had been a soldier in his squad, still learning the ropes. They had been told it would be an easy mission, but they weren't counting on the Sith showing up. It had been a brutal fight to get out, against the sith and the guards, he could still hear their blades humming in the air and feel their lightening surging through his body.

"Yes," the general said at last. "But not to slaughter them all. Only to make sure it doesn't happen again."

The Corporal looked deep into the general's eyes, searching for the truth. "Do you think these soldiers, with their PTSD are really fit for battle anymore? The psychologists say they are holding on by a thread."

"They are," agreed Ardgal. "But I'm giving them something to live for. To die for and fight for. Something to hold on to and worship. That's the most anyone can ask for in the world."

"I suppose your right," agreed the Corporal before rising. "I will see you in the morning, sir."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"You can't always pick where or when battle will take place," Ardgal adressed his men that cool morning, "And that is the fact of war. You know it, I know it, we all do. We all have at least one battle where we wished we could have fought on different terms."

Across the audience of his recruits he saw several grim nods of agreeement. Flashes in their eyes showed that they understood--and that he understood them. That was good. A general needed to have his men on his side, he needed them to know he was with them which was just as important. But he still had to be a god to them.

"For the next week, you will wish things were this easy again," he said folding his arms behind his back, "You have worked hard to earn your place here, and that is good. You should all be very proud of yourselves. But this next week of tests will determine whether or not you are worthy to be a god killer. You think you are at your breaking point right now?" he shook his head, "You are about to find out that you have so much more to give."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Each day held a new set of horrors for the recruits--and perhaps the worst part was they would never end. Not until they had show themselves to be beyond the status of mere mortals. Space warfare, null gravity between ships, underwater and surface water ops, orbital drops, low altitude and high altitude drops--every manner of scenario that could be thought up was thrown at them. Endless marches, followed by ambushes--counter ambushes--and hunting the enemy down through swamps, dense forests, and the wild lands of Rodia. There were injuries, sleep was reduced to the bare minimum to survive, but the weak and the frail had been weeded out long ago, now the strong stood among them.

Ardgal read the reports each night with a smile of satisfaction. The tests weren't to prove to him or the Alpha Company that these men and women were worthy, but to themselves. All doubt had to be removed from their minds for what stood ahead of them. He didn't want or need warriors who would question themselves, they would have enough trouble in this galaxy without battling themselves. Each morning he looked over the recruits. He saw the growing hardened resolve in their eyes. The resolve of warriors who stood for something greater than themselves. Some were here to avenge their sons and daughters, some to avenge their wives, mothers and fathers. He didn't blame them. He knew the burn in their soul. He was going to give them the keys to that, all that he needed was to find the smith.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Every part of his plan had been easy enough thus far; finding and securing both the location and the training was a simple matter. Finding the weapons had been an easy thing, but now he stood at the peak of it all and had yet to nail in the key to these god killers. Ardgal knew that their training and weapons would only get them so far. To kill a god you had to become anathema. There was only one way to do that--to do that--and Ardgal was going to make it happen.

He had spent days combing through the darknet, holonet, and shadownet looking for a bio engineer both corrupt and good enough to work with them. Most self-respecting bio engineers wouldn't be caught working for the RMIA. Most of those who had the skills he needed wouldn't be willing to work for the money he was going to offer either. It took a special hammer to put this nail in the fence, and Ardgal knew it. Besides that--he had to know that whoever he hired would be committed to the cause, uncorruptable. Money could only bring someone so far. If he could buy them, then someone else would too. But if someone believed in the cause then no one and nothing could change their mind. Beings honestly rarely ever changed their real religions and opinions. Late that night a name crossed his eyes; one that had been a victim to Sith and Jedi alike. One who had lost his whole family at

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal felt a sense of pity as he stepped into the filthy chop shop. How the mighty had fallen. The grate flooring was covered in various bodily fluids from many creatures. There was an over all stink rising from the warehouse, several shelves stood along the wall holding jars with body parts in them--or chemicals. Some both. Ardgal shook his head, "Doctor Mel?"

The form of a very pretty, delicate woman stepped from behind one of the tarps over a nearby door. It was hard to imagine she was the chop-shop doctor here, had she not been wearing a soiled labcoat besmuged with chemcials, "Your Mister Raxis?"

Ardgal nodded, 'I understand your daughter was taken in by the Jedi for training?'

Her face screwed into a sour look all she said was, "Yeah, they stole her from me, what about it?"

"And I understand she died during the Clone Army Fiasco with Gen? And your family was killed by Sith in the Ensuing offensive?"

She balled her fists, Ardgal could see the pain in her eyes welling up, she wanted to destroy him, to crush him for all the pain, along with everyone else, 'Yes and that is why I ran away from my work at the University. Are you here to remind me or get some work done, sir?"

"How would you like to do something about that? To fight the Sith and the Jedi, to help me make any army that can hold them accountable?"

She shook her head, "Can't be done. Force users are like gods."

"That's why we are making god killers," Ardgal looked deep into her eyes. So lost, so hungry for a real reason to live. She wanted the hope but was so afraid to trust it, "Even gods can be mortal."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"What you need to make these god killers is something strong, something super human, in every possible way," Mel said looking over her worktable, "Beings able to think faster than the normal one, beings able to lift more, tire slower, and run further." She looked over her notes, "We will have to increase the muscle density by 100%, the hemoglobin content times three, and the neural matter times two, along all lines." She took a step back and chewed on her lip.

"Can it be done?" Ardgal asked.

"Is it possible?" she began, "Yes. But there will be side effects," she looked at Ardgal, he gave her a wave of his hand, she swallowed and began, 'it wil lonly work along base line humans, or near-humans. Otherwise the template is by far too strange to use. They will eat a lot more. They will weigh a lot more, and drinking into drunkenness will be almost impossible. Also," she pursed her lips, "restlessness. Lots of restlessness, they will need medication or being statis when they are not in battle, think ADD, but much worse. War will become their life, and they will need psychiatric help. A lot of it." She put her hands on her hips and looked at Ardgal, "You realize we are making monsters, right?"

"The gods made them monsters," Ardgal said, "We just made them able to use that to make a difference."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"What will you need to make this happen?" Ardgal asked.

She waved the question aside, 'I will secure the medical concoctions to make it happen, I just need a space to work and the subjects. This will hurt them, you know that, right?"

Ardgal nodded, "One more thing I want from them. I want them to be Force Dead."

"That will make things a little easier," she said with a nod, "I will burn the medichlorians out of their bodies, it will fuel their changing. Are you sure they want that?"

"They will," Ardgal promised, handing her a card with the base's coordinates on it, 'Meet us there, we will be ready for you."

He returned to the base in the night. He rounded up several of the Alpha Company to finish setting up the medical center as the incubation center it would be. They cracked open a series of wooden crates and errected the Bacta tanks they had bought off the black market. Each one was shinning and polished, and lined up along the walls. Row after row of tanks were lined up along the walls and in the room. But in the center several operating and examining tables were added. The medical droids that too had been recently purchased were unpacked and given a test run. When it was all set up, Ardgal retired to his quarters. He lay in his bed sleepless most of the night. Tomorrow all this planning would come down to prove whether it was possible--or a foolish thought of a mad man.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

They shaved their heads to make the brain scans and needles insertion easier. Each recruit donned medically white fatigues and showered before filing into the medical center. Ardgal looked them over, each had the hard look of men and women who were here, ardent, willing to sacrifice their life and more this rite of passage. Mel stood beside him dressed in her medical garb, ready for her coming duties.

"If any of you have any doubt in your minds," Ardgal said, "or any fear or desire to leave, you can now. No one will blame you." he paused, 'Death is a strong factor here. Only the strongest will survive."

He waited. There were no takers. He nodded to Mel. She went around, sedating each of the recruits on the gurney before these bacta chambers. When they were done, She hooked each one up to a dripline with the help of the medical droids with her. Ardgal walked down the hall of tanks to the last soldier. He could see a sense of uncertainty. The soldier was young, no older than twenty two. Ardgal placed a comforting hand on his forehead, "Its alright to go now, no one would blame you."

"I am not afraid to die, sir," he said confidently, "Only that I will before I can avenge my family."

"You will avenge them," Mel said coming along side him and administering her medicine, "Rest for now."

Ardgal watched as the young man slipped into unconsiousness--a sense of doubt began to nag at him. But it was too late now, he had comitted. The lines had been drawn.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal helped with the droids and Alpha Company as the bodies of the recruits into the bacta tanks. Each one was suspended by the breathing cables and security harness in the liquid. Ardgal watched as more chemicals were injected into the mix and administered through the tubes running into the recruits. The bodies twitched involuntarily in a strange dance like motion. He suppressed a sense of alarm and strode through the walls of the soldiers being altered to Mel. She stood before a massive wall of data, observing each reading with a critical eye. Their lives were in her hands, and she took it very seriously.

He gave her a questioning look, she glanced at him before returning to the data, "Its normal."

He looked back at his army being made of god killers. Slowly some of the data on Mel's screen began to blink out. With each one she let out a curse and tapped to try and bring it back. Each set of data represented a soldier, a god killer who didn't survive the process. He felt sorrow at each one that died. It was his fault. they were his soldiers, it was his watch, he had been responsible for each one. And all on his command. He refused to leave the med center, not until it was all over. Even as the soldiers were carried out on gurneys to recover, he still stayed close. Even as they were in the medical center, unconscious for a week, he refused to leave their sides.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The god killers stood before Ardgal, each at attention. Their hardened faces showed extreme resilience to the massive trauma they had just undergone. Every man, every woman in their ranks was a true warrior, a veteran without equal. Their eyes glared ahead with solemn dignity. Ardgal. Their uniforms were crisply pressed, bearing the ensignia of the god killers unit. They were the few, the proud. Standing by was the Alpha Company along side them. When they had come in, these men and women were recruits, but now they were equals in every sense of the word.

Ardgal stood before them and had to search for the words to say to his new graduates.

"The hardest days are not behind you, but ahead of you," Ardgal began, "The things that you trained for, that you set out to accomplish were not for your own sake. You all know why you are here, why you came and what carried you through these dark days. There is nothing I can say to make you stronger. There is nothing I could do to make you better. However, I can promise you that if you follow me, if you stay with me and we fight together against a common enemy that we all hold dear. I will provide for you, I will arm you and I will point you in the right direction to defend that which you hold dear and destroy that which you hate most. Together you were foraged into the god killers, and together you shall remain them. Let no god drive you asunder let no one hold you back or change you. Remember this day. Remember this time when you stood here before me and were pronounced god killers. Remember it when the blood of your enemy rolls down your blade. Remember it when the blood of your fellow soldier stains your hands. Remember it when your own blood falls to the ground. Remember it when your life is snuffed out and you count the gods you killed."