Chapter 1: Beauty, Peace, and War
Amidst the breath-taking mountain ranges and gorgeous valleys of Aldaran, silent and tranquil mists set in that would make one's worries disappear. From the frigid ice capped mountains reaching to the stars, down to the smallest trickling stream snaking its way down below, Aldaran is a place of beauty and peace. Just as nature has its beauty, so too does this planet have its share of violence and darkness.
For in a particular valley, the sounds of war rage as if the gods themselves were locked in combat. The crackling of lightening, the roars of flame and explosions, and the boom shattering of earth, from high above, one could only hear these sounds faintly through the fog and clouds. The chaos would quickly subside and the beautiful scenery would become something of a memory. As if the planet itself could feel the tragedy that occurred on its surface, the clouds released its tears of sorrow, in an attempt to wash away the pain and anguish.
On this particular day, in a particular valley, the sounds of war have long diminished. The mist slowly lifts and rolls off the mountain down river. Blood, tears and mud flow downstream and into the earth and other valleys. What stands in place of the once picturesque symbol of beauty is now the aftermath of a terrible battlefield, one of which has no victor. Massive drop ships lay torn asunder across earth, amongst tress, and amongst what was once a planetary defense turret facility. What's worse, beneath the scrap, debris, and weeping sky, mangled and torn bodies lay silent, still warm from the life essence that once coursed through their veins moments earlier.
From the just and powerful Jedi and Sith, to the courageous and bold Trooper and Bounty Hunter, to the cunning and determined Smuggler and Agent; all lay together in this tragic aftermath, no longer fighting, no longer struggling, eternally locked in slumber... save a few lucky or unlucky survivors...
...T...Tak...Takini... can you hear me? Are you alive? I know you're alive, Get up!
A familiar voice stirs within the mind of a survivor of the republic. Slowly, he pushes back fallen slabs of steel and debris, raising his hand towards the clouds. His body barely responding to his commands; his arms scorched and wounded where armor once protected his skin.
As he pushes his hand up above the rubble, the cool valley air gentle wraps around it, giving him a fleeting moment of comfort. The cool rain drizzles down his arm, soothing his burns and wounds. Finally the voice from before speaks to him but not from within his mind. The sounds are incoherent as he focuses on the voice. The amount of debris upon him and rain dampen the sound from within his helmet. Soon, however, the pressure upon his body lessens and eventually he meets the world and his savoir. As his eyes adjust, he comes to realize his helmet is damaged, almost completely crushed. Sensors, sound manipulators, voice transmitters, and visual augmentations are all offline, not to mention there is a large crack down the front. Pulling off the helmet and tucking it under one arm, he looks up to the sky through the rain. His rescuer extends his hand to him…
"I see that your soldier training has paid off... we're alive… though to what degree..."
He takes the gesture and pulls himself up, stumbling forward slightly.
"...D-did we win?"
"Did we win? That's the first thing you say to me after saving your sorry life?"
"Sorry Fireflame, thanks for saving me...are we the only ones?"
"… Look for yourself."
The soldier turns his gaze to his surroundings. Familiar with sights of battle and the scene laid before him, he shakes his head quietly. Assessing the situation, he frowns as he notices that both drop ships are destroyed, casting out any ideas of immediate evacuation and medical attention. With his equipment destroyed, rifle missing, and no known settlements nearby, waiting for rescue wasn't going to be easy. Fortunately enough, his savior was trained in the force and still maintained his sabers on his belt. The two decide to gather their dead and begin burials while waiting. After unearthing the bodies of a few fallen allies, a sudden stillness blankets their surroundings. Though heightened perception and insight, Takini calmly walked over to his ally, and began to warn him as he picked up his helmet.
"Fire..."
"I know... we aren't the only survivors..."
A red flash leaps out from distant rubble and collides into the soldiers shoulder plating, sending him spiraling to the ground. Another flies out toward the Jedi, but is deflected by his now unsheathed saber. While reaching for his other saber, a strong force tightens around his neck. As if rising from the ashes, a Sith emerges focusing his hatred on Fireflame. As a sinister smile begins to cross the Sith's face, his concentration is broken and he drops the Jedi as he is knocked aside by the recovered trooper. Unfortunately as the trooper regains his balance, he is thrown back several meters by a violent gust of force. His fall is broken only by his damaged armor and steel wreckage. As he slides to a halt, he thanks the maker he put on his helmet before being tossed. Adjusting his eyes, he looks towards his ally and finds him locked in combat with the opposing Sith. He rubs his throbbing shoulder when suddenly, he remembers the red flash. Instinctively he rolls into cover just as another blaster bolt scorches the ground he once lay upon.
Injured, winded, and outgunned the Trooper sought for a quick resolution to their situation. Should he stay hidden for too long, his ally would become the snipers new target and thus shorten his ability to combat his current foe. Should he rush out into the open, he had no weapons to effectively engage his hidden sniper opponent. Frantically, his eyes began to shift, looking under slabs of ruins and earth and his mind began to run scenarios on how to confront his enemy. Finally a ray of hope catches his attention; a fallen fellow soldier lay still upon the earth before him. Without second thought, he strips his brethren of his usable equipment.
While he may not be in touch with the force, and foresee its changes around him, he was the leader of Havoc squad, the most elite of the republic military. He had the training and combat experience. His intuition and mind were molded by the battlefield to handle and deal with situations of dire circumstances. It was times like these that he was trained for, when all odds were against him, when the hand dealt to him was poor.
He takes a deep breath and remembers what his superior, General Garza said to him on the day of his promotion...
"Lieutenant Takini... you are Havoc's new CO, it is your duty and honor to set an example for all who follow under your call sign and do what only your squad can do... "
Takini pulls off his helmet and quietly says"...It's time to wreak some havoc..."
Breaking from cover in a full sprint, he makes his way in a slant toward the snipers perch. A blast strikes him on his left calf, tearing off the armor plating. Still charging forward, he spots an area of cover where he can pivot his charge and run back across the field to get closer to his target. As he slides into cover his back slams into a concrete slab and adjusts his helmet under his left arm. He tightens his grip on the rifle and breaks away across the field. This time the sniper is on to his tactics and lands a hit into his shoulder as he emerges. The pain is sudden and extreme, causing the trooper to drop his weapon and lose balance. Before he falls, he tosses his helmet at the sniper, who's dug-in under some rubble a few meters away. As he hits the ground, another bolt burros itself into his chest, tearing through what little remain of his armor and into his flesh. As he writhes in pain, he turns his gaze to meet his enemy. They both lock eyes, aware that the final struggle for survival has ended and the victor was soon to be declared.
With the troopers head in his sights, the sniper notices the trooper mouthing what he writes off as final wishes or pleas, but a sudden and grave thought pops into his mind. Why did the trooper toss a helmet at him instead of firing his rifle? The sniper's glance and senses turn from his scope and he notices the helmet sitting at the entrance of his hole, from within and through the cracks he can see a quickly flashing red light and hear the increasingly loud indicator of something all too familiar. Quickly and with fury, his returns to his sights and lines up his shot just as the trooper mouths...
3...2...1...
This time a flash of light appears right before the Trooper's eyes, the light was so close and intense it blinds him. The shot was perfect, accurate, and swift, perfect for instant death.