Forged in Fire - The Birth of the Scorchers - Kali'sto

Over the next few months, the 52th forged its identity in the fires of the Clone War. With Gala's initial group of specialists as our starting point, we slowly began to take on more and more recruits as the war mounted and took the lives of clones faster than they could be replenished. Those who had not come from Kamino joined us for a variety of reasons. Many were planetary security officers hoping to take a more active role in the war. Some had concerns less idealistic: they came for the promise of payment or benefits for themselves or their families. Some were conscripts, drawn from other units or even pulled out of retirement instead of volunteering in some instances. And in one notable case, we had a prisoner of war.

Her name was Navelleen Ojan-Maxiiin, though we came to know her as Nav. She was a young Mandalorian human woman who was always alert. Even when she slept, there was a coiled tension to her, as if she was ready to move and draw a knife if an intruder walked into her midst, a feat I hold no doubt she would be capable of. She had been orphaned as an adolescent when her mother, a Mandalorian mercenary, was killed on Duros, and Nav was subsequently moved into an orphanage on said world. A year later, she escaped, reclaimed her mother's armor, and became a mercenary in her own right. We met her in one of the war's earliest devastating battles.

The Battle of Atraken was a grueling churn which wrenched flesh and metal. By the time we had arrived, whole swaths of the world had been devastated. Though we turned the tide of the campaign with a series of guerilla strikes upon the various Separatist bases, Atraken was left a ruined husk: the air and water had been poisoned, rendering the world largely uninhabitable. During this campaign, we met an enemy who would become one of our most trusted friends.

She was aiding the Separatists on Atraken as a scout. Her mission was to track our movements and report back. However, I sensed her, and our scouts soon detected her. A chase ensued as Splinter, a squad, and I rode our speeders after her through the smoking ruins of the forest. She was nimble and agile on her STAP, weaving through the forest with ease. Yet, there was a way to stop her. She must have been quite surprised when her speeder suddenly halted in midair. I held her craft for a brief second, long enough to destroy her speeder and stun her.

We took her back to camp, where Rays, Splinter, and I interrogated her. Nav did not say a word, as still as stone. Her unchanging expression was one of respect, but with a hint of contempt. I sensed a soul that was undirected, lonely. For two days, she said nothing.

Rays then turned away from the standard. He talked to Nav alone, but not about the war. Instead, he asked her about her armor, questions about Mandalorian culture. To these, she was initially skeptical and hostile, but eventually responded and opened up to. The two bonded over Mandalorian culture, as Rays told her of the camradire and solidarity he imbued into his unit, his family, and Nav told him of her mother and a few words of the Mandalorian language. She did not help us, but when the Republic took her in as a prisoner, Rays was reluctant to let her go. Luckily, it would not be the last we saw of her.

Eight Months after the Battle of Geonosis, we were deployed to the forests of Kabal alongside the 55th Battalion. During this battle, Rays noted that Nav had been a part of the Separatist forces initially deployed to secure Kabal once it had joined the Separatists. I was able to secure her release from prison, with the deal that her sentence would be reduced as a result of her service with us. She was in many ways the culmination of the ideology of the 525th, and it was on this mission that we earned our name.

We were sent in first. Our mission was to destroy the capital city's artillery and planetary defense shield, so the 55th could safely land and help us capture the city. We tore through the atmosphere, sweeping through the hailstorm of fire on our gunships. Many of them landed far more roughly than intended, including the one Rays and I rode on, impacting the ground with the force of a warhammer. The death toll was higher than we had hoped, and the forest was set ablaze by the wake of our battle. The flames were bright and vibrant as they consumed the forest and sent all walking creatures – native and foreign, with and without the trappings of civilization – running. It was a sight which haunts me to this day. But we persevered, escaping the flames and making our way to the rendezvous point.

It did not seem like a victory to some of us, including Rays. But, we survived. We were shocked and restless, our morale held together as much by casual jokes and relief as discipline. However, as we marched through the char and ash of the ruined forest, some of our troops began to whisper a moniker, one which resonated throughout the unit. Scorchers.

Navelleen began to truly integrate into our unit, bonding with a rookie clone who named himself "Neville" as an inverse of the number eleven. This name was suited for his bold, flamboyant sense of humor. She would be our guide through the city, helping us to plan our final assault. We continued to fight through a blaze of hellfire, tearing through the city towards the shields. We fractured into platoons, attacking from several different angles. Rays and I attempted to minimize the collateral damage, while Splinter and Gala were most focused on reaching the objective. In one most notable instance, an entire column of droids was pushing back one of our units, and would cut off our advance teams from the rear squads. Bonfire recognized this, and decided to collapse a building onto the street. However, there were civilians present, and Rays and I refused to let them die. We ordered Bonfire to rescue them all, and he did so. However, the droid army was almost upon them, and he didn't have time to get clear. Rays adamantly ordered Bonfire to return, but he was adamant. I still remember Bonfire's final words:

"I knew the risk, sir. My squad and the civilians are clear. Get to the shield and blow up the tanks, get the job done and keep yourselves alive. That's what matters. Good hunting, Scorchers."

Bonfire was lost in a collapsing tower ringed with fire. But his sacrifice saved our lives and guaranteed our victory. Navelleen and Sergeant Chelaal – a Kaleesh engineer who had earned the name "Ember" led a squad of troops to hijack a Separatist tank, and they would use it to destroy the shield and several of the artillery cannons. With the shield down and the way cleared, the 55th followed, deploying their walkers and storming the city alongside us, winning the campaign.

As we departed, the troops kept chanting the name Scorchers, both in mourning and in triumph. Though at great cost, we had survived this battle, we of disparate backgrounds: clones, recruits, conscripts, Jedi: those forced into war and those who had chosen it, those who wanted to fight and those who did not, who believed in the ideals or the job. Yet, this motley group had survived, we had emerged from the ash and kept going. We were the Scorchers, and this bond would keep us together throughout this war which never should have been fought.