Private Sword in the Storm

[The Quartermaster]

K E S T R I

Location: Worldship Crater, Vong Dead Zone | Kestri
Tag: Hal Vaiken

When the Enclave had destroyed the Yuuzhan Vong leadership on Kestri and succesfully freed the ancient Mandalorian world, they had cut off the head of the beast. But they hadn't fully eradicated the mutated horde when they killed the shaper in Tor Valum's ruins. Pockets of resistance -- Vong outposts, nests, breeding grounds -- remained, and it took the Enclave the better part of a year to eradicate most of the troublesome spots. But there was one nest so deep and so entrenched that they had not even been able to scratch the surface.

The worldship had crashed millennia ago into a massive glacier, and over the thousands and thousands of years Vong had created a massive tunnel network extending out from the worldship through the ice. Radiological surveys suggested that the network spanned for thousands of kilometers, and millions of mutated Yuuzhan Vong. And worse, it being one of the largest breeding grounds meant that the population was still replenishing. The estimated cost of Mandalorian lives that would be lost clearing out the worldship was too much for even the Quartermaster to sanction an operation of.

So they did the next best thing: turning it into training grounds.

Sanctioned as the 'Vong Dead Zone,' the sector was heavily monitored by border patrols that would quickly eliminate any sign of Vong activity pushing beyond the boundaries. As Kestri's infrastrucutre and the firepower and manpower of the Enclave grew, these reprisals grew so sudden and swift that the semi-intelligent creatures among the Vong mutants learned not to stray too far from their nest. It had been Romul Saxon's idea to turn the area into a training ground, a way to test a Mandalorian's mettle against creatures that would most certaintly kill you if you gave them the chance. And so reluctantly, with the caveat that a great deal of oversight and caution be exercised in case things were to go wrong, the Quartermaster had approved the conversion into a training grounds.

Somehow, that had lead to an unruly taskforce of New Imperial commandos to Kestri. She'd come to personally survey them herself; Mandalorians had long been training the New Imperial Order's stormtroopers, whether they'd been from the Imperial-aligned Sons of Mandalore or Enclave warriors. But this was the first time Imperials had been on Kestri, ever since the planet's existence had been broadcasted to the galaxy when the Sith had struck to free the captive Darth Maliphant.

Hopefully they were impressive as their record suggested.
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[Hal Vaiken]

S A R G E
501st LEGION
IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
SCAR SQUADRON

The last thing Sarge would've expected the Last Mandalorian Bastion to be was a nuts freezing shithole. Or perhaps it was the last thing he wanted it to be. Krownest, Csaus - all fairly recent theaters in which the SCAR troopers had been deployed could give hypothermia to the most resilient wampa. And now - Kestri.

But perhaps the staff sergeant was looking at it from the wrong perspective. Maybe it wasn't the Last Mandalorian stronghold but the first of many. Maybe they needed this harsh climate to emerge stronger, deadlier than before. Maybe. Who knows, Hal Vaiken was no philosopher. He was a soldier. No, he was much more. He was an Imperial Stormtrooper.

Smoke billowed in the distance and muffled explosions rang across the horizon of the so-called 'Vong Dead Zone'. The noise was extremely familiar. He could've picked it up even if he had been deaf. Bunker buster warheads. The Empire had used the munitions across nearly every campaign against the Sith - the bastards sure loved scurrying about in their tunnels. Like the rats they were. The Mandos clearly had been learning their lessons about those rats well. The dead zone was supposedly larger than anything the Imperials had ever mustered for an underground training zone. That's why SCAR was here. Learn some lessons as well.

Hoax and Cat were a few dozen feet away, gearing up at a tent cache the Mandos had provided, while he, as commanding officer, undertook the, well, talks. With his helmet clipped on his utility belt and a cigarette lit upon his lips, he approached the woman the Mandalorians had gestured at. The welcoming committee.

She looked nothing like the usual Mandalorian warrior. Her helmet shone gold, meaning she either never left her bed or she kept her gear up excessively well maintained. A fur coat draped over her form and a notable cuirass over her torso. She was shorter, somewhat lithe and nothing like Sarge would've expected her to be. And yet, her presence alone seemed to radiate a form of authority and respect among the rest. To Hal? Perhaps it was the mystery that hid beneath the helmet. An enigma to unravel.

"The Quartermaster, right?" he lit up the rolled cigarette again, then puffed a cloud of smoke to the side, jerking his head at the Dead Zone, "What've you got for us, lady?"

The Quartermaster

 

[The Quartermaster]

K E S T R I

Location: Worldship Crater, Vong Dead Zone | Kestri
Tag: Hal Vaiken

In contrast to the commando's casual air, the Quartermaster was the embodiment of austerity -- in every sense of the word. For a metalsmith, a Mandalorian one on that, her armor was polished and clean and the fur robe that adorned her shoulders was relatively free of burns, but there were spots where marks of heavy usage and constant wear could be shone. Kestri was not kind to fine things, and the Quartermaster would rather wear the same ragged pelt than put on a show of decadence in front of her people who had so little themselves.

"You and your team are about to be dropped into the Vong Dead Zone, a glacial network infested by millions of mutated Yuuzhan Vong. These creatures are sub-sentient and resistant to to the cold, and relentless when there is prey in their territory," she responded in a neutral tone. "Our veteran warriors undergo trials that plunge deep into their nests, but your objective will be close enough that support can be provided. Extraction, if need be. The Imperator would not like his commando team being ripped apart on our watch," she added.

Behind her, several Si'kayha commandos sniggered to themselves as she spoke. << "They're running challenges for children," >> one of them called to the Quartermaster in Mando'a, and the other one laughed at loud at that.

She quieted with them with a helmeted glare, but the damage was done. "Alright Adiik squad," Herc Bralor, the Si'kayha Alor'ad of the squad that would oversee their insertion into the VDZ, called from where a single dropship was hovering at the edge of the Kom'rk Citadel's marshalling ground. "Three minutes to finish gathering your equipment, then you're going in. You'll have your objective brief on the drop-in."
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[Hal Vaiken]

S A R G E
501st LEGION
IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
SCAR SQUADRON

Vong.

The name invoked an old memory in his mind slightly furrowing his brow. New Bakstre. One of his earliest deployments as a mere stormtrooper in the Corps. The planet had gone dark and the 501st were the first to deploy on the infested world. Preliminary intel said the operation would be nothing more than a blue milk run. It was, as usual, wrong. A month into hell, the stormtroopers were issued an order to retreat and evacuate.

The putrid stench left behind by a Base Delta Zero still filled his nostrils.

It made his lips faintly curve into a smile.

He brought his forearm closer to his face, :: SCAR, we're moving. ::

The Quartermaster's remark over the Imperials' lives would've sounded arrogant had it not been delivered with the emotional weight of a class five labor droid.

"Flattered to have Mandalorians as caretakers for once..." a brief smirk crossed the Sarge's face as he flung the cig away and planted the white helmet over his head, "... but I wouldn't worry too much about us, Quartermaster - we didn't only survive the Sith--" he turned to leave towards the dropship under the mocking jests of a language he did not know.

"-- but we danced on their ashes too." he added, a subtle hint that the Empire prevailed over the butchers of Mandalore. There was hardly any malice in his tone, merely a statement. Hal harbored no special feelings - neither ill nor otherwise - towards the warrior clans of Mandalore and yet, the mystery that hid beneath the gold-clad, polished Mandalorian, clearly standing out over the rest of her tarnished grey kin, piqued his curiosity. Maybe more than he wanted to admit.

Climbing the dropship along with Cat and Hoax, he turned back to where the Quartermaster was standing.

"You're not going to miss the fun, are you?" he asked genuinely, tilting his head to the side.

The Quartermaster

 

[The Quartermaster]

K E S T R I

Location: Worldship Crater, Vong Dead Zone | Kestri
Tag: Hal Vaiken

The Quartermaster let the subtle jab slide, though she noticed the dirty glares from the Mandalorians that overheard. They would not be foolish enough to try and provoke a fight, though, and so she merely returned the commando's sally with an expressionless, helmet-covered stare as she watched his team and him board the dropship.

"There is work to be done; the fun can wait." Her voice was austere and neutral, but there was an indescribable weight carried alongside it. The knowledge, the burden that the work for her would never be done as long as she drew breath. "Fight well, Stormtrooper, and may luck be with you," she called, with a slight, almost warmth to the farewell as Herc Bralor boarded the dropship and signaled that they were ready for takeoff. "You'll need it," she whispered as the bay doors of the dropship cleared and it began to lift into the air. The Vong Dead Zone was not a place that could be deemed safe or easy, despite the jests of the Mandalorians. If those Stormtroopers died on the frozen wastes, they would not be the first.

She watched the shuttle slowly grow smaller and smaller as it plunged deep into Vong territory, standing solid for a long while, her cloak fluttering slightly in the high-altitude breeze. At last, she turned. "I'll be observing this mission," she announced to the nearest Si'kayha, who nodded silently and pointed her towards the VDZ control room. As much as she hated to admit it, the callous bravado of the commando was almost enticing, a break from the silent stoicism of Saxon and nearly every other veteran that she spent most of her days with. She would watch this team's progress; if not for her duty as a hosting head of state, then to satiate her own curiosity.
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[Hal Vaiken]

S A R G E
501st LEGION
IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
SCAR SQUADRON

"...you'll need it,"

He gave her a silent two-finger salute before the dropship's engines roared louder and they were off to hell. Sarge's eyes lingered over the dwindling cloaked figure of the Quartermaster for a while longer, then turned to his squad and the Mandalorian warriors among them. Cat and Hoax argued about some of the latter's conspiracy theories - namely that Gat Tambor was the true ruler of the Empire, while the Mandalorians, for the most part, remained silent.

The hatch of the dropship opened once more and the two squads emerged. The artillery strikes were louder here, not distant at all. Probably a klick away a Vong incursion was being curbed. The wind picked up from the heavy ordnance deployed, sweeping frozen dust and particles across their visors. A trio of Mandalorians emerged from a nearby hill, a recon squad by the looks of it, and hurried to report to the outpost's commander.

"Here." Bralor stated, jerking his head towards the western exit of the outpost. A gaping cavern entrance greeted them beyond it. "You're taking point, stormtrooper."

"I know." Sarge replied, moving up ahead along with the other two SCAR troopers. They were the ones here sent to train. It only fit they moved up ahead. "Stagger columns. Keep a fifteen-twenty meter gap between us, Mando."

The stoic man gave no affirmative back but the Mandalorians did move to take the role of a trail fire team.

:: Not sure how I feel about Mandos having our backs. Two shots in the back for each of us and they'll script it as an incident. :: Hoax came through the internal comms. Conspiracies galore.

:: You realize we are the ones who turned on our former overlords, right? :: Cat chimed in.

:: ... :: Hoax glitched.

:: ... exactly. Vengeance for Mandalore and all that. ::

:: Don't think any of us were there when it happened... Sarge? ::

:: No. ::

:: But you were there when we came, right? ::

:: Not on Mandalore. Planet's deader than dead. Still, the Navy Base Delta Zeroed it. Precaution and all that-- ::

:: Sounds like our navy, alright. ::

:: -- but I was on the Mandalorian theater. Still just a stormie in the 501st infantry. :: Sarge continued, :: Fortress Imperious. Concordia-- ::

:: Oh, I know about that. The Siege of Imperious! We learned about that in the Academy, right, Cat? ::

:: We did, yeah. ::

:: Was it that bloody, Sarge? ::

A smirk emerged beneath the helmet and he gave it a few seconds before replying, :: For them. ::

In truth, it was bloody for the Imperials and Mandos too. Even with the skeletal numbers the Sith Empire had manning the fortress, its strategic location and formidable defenses bloodied the besiegers. Add Graug hordes on top of that and you got yourself a nasty recipe for mass casualties.

They moved cautiously forward, helmet flashlights leading the way but showing nothing for so long that Sarge opened a line to Bralor.

:: Got nothing on the infrared... at all. ::

No response.

:: Bralor? ::

:: It's... strange. :: the response came in finally. :: They should've attacked us by now. We should be near their breeding zones. ::

:: I see nothing of the sorts. ::

:: ... exactly. ::

:: The maps - how recent-- :: his words trailed off as a large explosion rang in the distance behind them. The distant ray of light from the outside world perished.

:: Was that-- ::

:: It wasn't ours-- ::

:: CONTACT TEN O'CLOCK, SARGE!! :: Hoax yelled out, laying spraying fire on the razor bugs hurled his way.

:: Get to cover, Hoax, damn it!! ::

:: Sarge, why the hell are sensors not picking up any heat from them?!? ::

:: I don't fucking know!! Lay cover for the Mandos!! BRALOR!! MOVE!! ::

Trapped within the confines of the infinite tunnels, Mandalorian and Imperial stood against the ambush of Vong, who donned skins invisible to their sensors. Infrared and life-scanner, alike.

How the hell did they procure such gear?

The Quartermaster

 

[The Quartermaster]

K E S T R I

Location: Citadel of the Kom'rk, Vong Dead Zone | Kestri
Tag: Hal Vaiken

The control room inside the citadel was cramped and far from lavish. Not all Mandalorians were inept when it came to architectural design; Clan Kyron in particular had boasted of beautifully-constructed buildings and structures, from Tor Valum to the Citadel that the Enclave had repurposed to be the command center of the Vong Dead Zone's defenses as well as training grounds for Mandalorians. But within the carved stone walls, comm units and holotables stood placed haphazardly while power cords attached to generators were strewn about on the floor, meaning it was easy to trip if you weren't watching your step.

The Quartermaster stood over the central holotable, hands leaning on the edge for support as the blue holographic display reflected on her metal helmet and visor. A to-scale map of the Vong Dead Zone had been enlargened to display the terrain where the Imperial Commandos had been dropped in, with markers indicating the triangulated position of each trooper and paired to life monitor readings. Near them were the markers of the Si'kayha squad that had dropped in with them, though they would be boarding their shuttle and leaving the Commandos to their task soon.

"Quartermaster, Bralor is reporting heavy engagement at the landing zone," Merra Skirata, a junior commando, said from over by a comms station, a hand pressed to the device that had been integrated into her vambrace.

Under her helmet, the Quartermaster frowned. "That's impossible -- there are no signals on the map." The sensor network was vital to the security ring that protected the Vong from breaching the Dead Zone; being able to monitor the movement of hordes meant that teams could be sent to cull any encroaching bands before they made it out of the glacial valley and scattered throughout the rest of Kestri. "What is their status?"

"They've entered the tunnels, Quartermaster. I'm trying to patch through but I doubt the signal will reach them with all that obstruction."

She cursed silently as she weighed her options, her knuckles tightening around the rim. "What resources do we have on standby for an extraction?"

This time a different Mandalorian -- Valus Cadera, who generally served as Bralor's lieutenant in terms of managing the VDZ and with the veteran deployed, stood as next in charge -- spoke up. "Bralor took our only team in. Saxon called all other Si'kayha at the Citadel to strengthen Tor Valum's defenses for the time being, in case of another Sith incursion. There's the trainees here, but they'd be slaughtered if they were sent in for an extraction."d

Her knuckles whitened under the heavy leather gloves, and she could feel her choices narrowing. "Merra, send word to Tor Valum that I need ARCTUS to do an in-depth perimeter scan of the VDZ, and I need five Si'kayha squads and a battalion of Cernr droids here now. We need to extract those troopers, but the stability of the VDZ and the safety of everyone at Kestri is at risk if these Vong are evading our sensors. Valus," she continued, turning to the lieutenant, "take me to the nearest shuttle. I will be going in myself."

"With all respect, Quartermaster, I don't know if I can --"

"That was an order, Cadera. Now."
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