Hey guys, notes on this one: This one is OC filled so there are probably a few little references that you might not get, but tat's okay. Two main things you need to know for this is that:
(1) the Valkyries are my Mando squad (I think I have something about that in my bio. But I'm not sure since when I came up with them, the Valkyries and the squad were two different things I think. Oh well)
and
(2) the black bar and Nightmare company (platoon? I still haven't decided...whoops) is another OC group I have. The significance of the black bar is an outward symbol that means (at least, in my head canon) that trooper has lost everyone else in either his squad or (if they're really that unlucky) unit. (Example: Fives thought he was the last of Domino squad. Had he been in any one of my OC groups, he would have gotten one black stripe on his right shoulder plate) Nightmare is a collection of troopers like this who basically have nothing else to lose and take on the suicide-run missions.
Anyway, please enjoy what might possibly be considered a sappy/sad story! :D
The battle field was in total ruins. Picking carefully around the bodies, Veniece Sandrias gazed around and shook her head, watching mournfully as the dry grass hungrily soaked in the soldiers' spilled blood.
She motioned for the others to split up.
''Fan out and search for survivors,'' she ordered, not looking back as she moved forward to complete the task. ''Screech if they can be salvaged.''
There was no reply over the com, no light that flashed green on her helmet's HUD...Just the faint sound of boots turning in the grass and a faint chorus of clicks as the other Valkyries moved on, eyes glued to the ground from under their helmets. Essentially left to herself among the dead, Sandrias sighed softly.
All those poor lads. Dead and will be forgotten. Shame.
It was depressing work, what her Valkyries did; salvaging what they could from the Republic's battles against the Separatists, cleaning up after the GAR when they didn't have time to come back for the fallen...Depressing, but if they didn't, then who would? Vultures? Ants?...Beetles? Wolves or other such hunters that would make a quick end to the corpse, if they got lucky? But even still, there were too many. Nature could only clean up so much after a battle. Not all of the troopers were lucky enough to caught in the natural clean up before their corpse started to rot, left to itself out in the sun.
Crouching down, she brushed her gloved fingers through the brown grass, tugging at a few strands now and then, trying to see if it was dry enough for what she had in mind for later...
A low, whimpering, shuddering moan stopped her.
Lifting her gaze, she changed the HUD visual with a blink from normal to thermal, scanning the surrounding dead for a heat source...ah, there. The one nearly to the boulder. Sandrias practically tip-toed there, stepping daintily around the other soldiers before she reached him, kneeling next to his prone form and lightly resting a hand on his chest.
A light flickered on on her screen, then turned black. The trooper's, who ever he was, fate was already determined. He didn't have long.
She took one look at his injury, barely visible through the well of red and brown, spattered with speckles of metal - the shrapnel had made him go down, most likely - and had to turn away. This man was dying slowly and painfully, and there was nothing she could do to even momentarily ease it. And when he was gone, changes were, no one would know because no one would care.
Sandrias forced her eyes to turn back to the wound, making sure to implant the memory so deeply she would never forget why she had become Mandalorian, why she kept fighting. Focusing on her screen, she selected the color select, trying to determine which branch and unit he had been with by the armor decals. She tried wiping away some of the life-liquid in order to get a better reading, but that didn't work. The only colors she got were grey and...That was when she noticed the black bar on his right shoulder...
Another strangled gasp-like sound escaped him and Sandrias carefully elevated his neck, unsealing the helmet and pulling it off. Underneath, the face she saw was probably mid-aged. Lightly scarred at the cheek and heavily tanned from working in the sun without a helmet on. But the eyes...they were of young boy, no older than than his late teens or early twenties. Haunted, true...but still young, still wide and emotional.
Gently sliding her arms around his shoulders and neck, she cradled his shuddering form, exhaling on his cheek to alert him to her presence.
''Hey, trooper,'' she murmured.
The worried eyes blinked, briefly filled with tears, then refocused, staring up at her.
''How are you feeling?'' she asked.
''N-numb.'' he admitted. ''A-are..Y-ou...?''
His eyes searched her visor, then trailed down to his wounds and another gasp racked his body, left hand clutching her kama. ''P-please m-ake 't...fast.''
Sandrias shook her head, ''I'm not here to send you off faster.''
''Th-en...wh-y...?''
Adjusting her grip so his head was resting on her shoulder, she unclipped her helmet and tugged it off before pressing her forehead against his.
''Making sure you don't die alone.''
Silence.
Wind rustled through the valley. If she really listened, Sandrias could hear her comrades off in the distance, but gave up after a while.
She glanced back at where the black bar ran down his right shoulder plate.
''Nightmare? You with those boys?''
''N-no...Just...earned it.''
He huffed disgustedly, a sob stuck in his throat.
''Last one.''
''Shhh, shhh...it's okay. It's okay. You scared?''
He nodded, wincing as it jostled his neck, the first tears beginning to stream down his face. She caught them as they came down, gently sweeping them to the side.
'' 'm sc-cared.'' he whimpered, voice hoarse. ''Don't...wanna go.''
He took in a sharp breath, then half-shrugged, '' 'm not scared t' die jus-t...don' wanna go..don't wanna see..the other side...yet ''
''You'd be going home,'' she whispered quietly.
''Whose home?'' he bit out. ''We..ne-ver...h-had one.''
She was quiet for minute, then amended.
''You'd be going back to your brothers. You want to see them again?''
The trooper didn't answer. Couldn't answer. The shuddering had changed to a small quivering and she could tell he was trying to hold back more tears, throat choking them back.
''You wouldn't be alone...'' she cracked a wobbling smile, her own tears brimming in her eyes. ''You'd be back with the guys..*humph* Probably just waiting for you now. Getting ready to swap all those war stories you guys used to say you'd get around to, right?''
She tried to smile. She tried. But as his expression broke, so did hers. Together, two strangers united only by touch and heart, they silently wept for old friends long gone and for those who had just left, marching away far too soon. He wept for fear; she for pain, knowing this would not be the last time she would see another person dying. It hurt her to think that life could be considered so cheap by so many. At least he didn't have much longer to deal with it; He was almost gone. His eyes were mostly closed now and his breathing was starting to even out. Inhaling shakily, not even bothering to brush her own tears aside, she leaned over and gently kissed him. As she pulled away, he stared up at her.
''W-why...?''
Veniece gave him a small, sad smile.
''Bragging rights. How many of the others could say they've had that happen? Besides...a soldier deserves to be kissed before he marches off...That's just tradition.''
She paused, hearing light footsteps stop a few feet away. One of the girls. Her own search had come up empty. Venience returned her focus back to the dying man.
''What's you name, trooper?''
''T-Tez.''
''Tez, Ready to go?''
His lips tugged slightly in a small smile.
'' 'm all..rea'y..gon'...''
He took three more breaths.
In. Out.
In. Out.
In...out...
Tez exhaled his last breath, and went limp.
Sandrias laid him down, fingering around for his dog-tags. The chain snapped and she glanced down briefly at the info before slipping the tags and ID plate she'd pried from his chest into her pocket. If nothing else, even if no one else remembered him, some remnant of him would still remain.
Behind her, Mahgara shifted.
''Time to get moving,'' she said in that gruff voice of hers, though not unkindly. ''If he lasted that long, then there are bound to be others.''
Nodding silently, Sandrias picked up her helmet and stood, peering down at the black, red, and silver scorpion details on her helmet. It was just another day. Another battle. Another living corpse to comfort. She sighed, slipped on her helmet, and kept moving...
Hours later...
Smoke choked the air, filling the cloudless sky with dark clouds of ash and death. On the edge of the valley, turning back, Sandrias paused to watch as the searing flames began to lap at the dead. It was as good a funeral as the Valkyries could have given, the best they could do.
Besides, it was better than what most troopers got.
She watched as some of her Valkyries - still left in the valley - picked up the salvageable troopers, and lifted off, metal wings flashing gold and red from the fire below. There weren't many of the poor lads. She could have counted them all on one hand. Peering once more at the crackling inferno, for the last time, she turned and walked away.
Lopp (Estonian. the end)
Okay, much as I would absolutely LOVE to tell ya'll everything that went into this (planning wise over the years since this basically only took me about an hour or so to actually get down) I shall (mercifully) simply leave this with saying two things: This is (in essence) an older story which should hopefully explain why it was written in my older writing style and that this might turn into a series...Maybe..We'll just have to see how long this mood stays with me. XD
Anywho, thank you so much for reading and I will see you later! :D