Author's Notes:
This Epilogue is very short. I mean very. It sets up the sequel which I will write after the Prequel of Bravo Squad.
See you lads on Wendesday.
Star Wars is owned by Lucasfilm, I only own the laptop this was written on.
This Fanfic is heavily influenced by the Republic Commando Series by Karen Traviss.
"Life is a gift that everyone cherishes, but eventually has to return."
- Mandalorian proverb
Date: 18BBY, six months after the Desertion Incident
"They're in here."
Skirata and Ordo walked into the back of the tapcaf in Keldabe with Fenn Shysa leading the way. The Mand'alor rarely ever asked the former Cuy'val Dar out for social calls, and when he did it was only to discuss what to do with the stupid Imperial Garrison on their front doorstep. Ordo had spent weeks, about a year studying the Garrison only to discover that they mostly kept to themselves.
Maybe it was because they were scared of Mandalorians as much as any aruetii would be.
Fenn Shysa gestured to the four men in the booth. They were all sitting in different coloured beskar' gam. Ordo noted that they had all kept their helmets on in the sweltering heat of the tapcaf kitchen. It was always best to keep it on especially when all your faces were the exact same. He decided to stand next to the doorway in case some di'kut decided to wander into the back to cause trouble.
Behind his helmet, For stared at the former Sergeant as he took a seat next to him. He longed for the nostalgic feeling of his old Katarn armor, but was willing to admit that this new set of Mandalorian armor from Shysa kicked ass. For, and most of the squad, had put on some weight, finally free to choose whatever they wanted to do or eat. Skirata, on the other hand, had clearly lost a lot of weight, which For took as the man suffering from some sort of disease. Fenn sat next to Cryer, who looked down at the table, still traumatized over the Desertion Incident.
No one said anything for a few seconds, which felt like it lasted an eternity. For suddenly coughed, causing the rest of the table to perk up.
"…We heard that you have a refuge for… ex-military personnel here. We've had enough of the Empire and want out. I've also got a story to tell you… about one of our vod who died… getting us out of dodge…"
Ordo noted that his buir instantly reached out to pat For on his shoulder. The man appeared to let out a sob as Skirata comforted him, reaching into his pocket for a pack of warra nuts, which caused Cryer to look up at it.
"It's okay, adi'ka, welcome home."
Deep in the heart of Imperial City, the Emperor sat in his throne room, meditating, as he needed to recover from the wound he sustained at the hands of Hoffer. He would never forget that name.
A blonde-headed shadow entered the room, as though she knew that he was about to call her. She stood at ease, wondering what it was that the Emperor was so impatient to see her about. She had never seen him this excited, not since the night that Order 66 was activated.
"So you're Director of Special Forces now," The Emperor muttered under his breath as he turned his throne around to look at her, "These are your orders then. You are to assign a Commando squad to find the remnants of Bravo Squad and eliminate them. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," she paused, sweeping her blonde hair over her shoulder before daring to continue, "too be honest, I don't like the way this is playing out, sir. Those men followed our orders to the letter, especially during the Clone Wars. Don't you think they deserve an out, sir?"
"That sounds like treason, Director, are you trying to get killed?"
"… No, sir," Kofer angrily whispered under her breath as she left the room, feeling sad for the men that she had advised throughout the Clone Wars, and the painful deaths that were coming to all of them.
Author's Notes:
Thank you for giving my first Fanfic a chance. At the time of writing this, it got 200+ views, and that's 180 more than I was expecting.
See you guys on Wednesday for the Prequel.