—A STAR WARS STORY—
PROLOGUE: FROM THE ASHES
The hanger bay of the Imperial Star Destroyer the Eviscerator was extremely cold, but not as cold as the dark emptiness of space. She was there that day, left to die in her TIE Fighter, helplessly floating in space as she watched the Imperial space station code named Project Star Dust, explode before her very eyes.
"It is a travesty that has brought you here today," Admiral Rampart began, arms behind his back as he marched from side to side, a stern look permanently etched on his clean-shaven face. "A travesty that has gripped the heart of the citizenry of the Empire, and it all began two days ago when communication centres all across the galaxy heard a thousand voices screaming out in terror and was suddenly silenced. When rebel terrorists decided to blow up an Imperial facility and in doing, murdered thousands of Imperial heroes."
They were ten in attendance, Iden Versio had counted when they entered the hanger. Survivors of the catastrophic disaster that overtook what should have been the Empire's proudest triumph. The defiant world of Alderaan had been annihilated, the rebels that they secretly supported was well on their way of meeting the same fate. They were ten in attendance, standing straight, hands behind, heads raised, neutral yet attentive expressions marked them as they listened to Rampart impassionedly.
Each one of them had been given new stormtrooper armour; jet-black and shiny, with thin red streaks on their right pauldron.
"Amongst the dead are numerous Joint Chiefs that formed the backbone of our military and governing bodies. Colonel Wullf Yularen whom has spoken for each of you in the past, a true hero, and Grand Moff Tarkin, a close friend and ally to the Emperor himself was also on board the Death Star. You may call them victims of rebel treachery, but don't think of them as such…they are nothing but heroes of the Empire. As such the Emperor himself has selected the ten of you specifically, as being survivors of that very tragedy. Selected for one purpose alone: to honour those who sacrificed their lives that day and seek swift justice upon the perpetrators."
Rampart then stopped in the middle, looking out over the small group of soldiers before him.
"You will all resume training under Clone Commander CC-2224 and report directly to me for specialised missions ranging from the utmost covert to standard infantry. Baring the new designation of Task-Force Inferno, you will operate with discretion on behalf of Emperor Palpatine himself." He then took his time, taking a deep breath in and gestured to his assistants who slid into the crowd with badges carrying what Iden assumed to be their new badge and code cylinders that housed their identification.
Another man was seen standing beside the admiral, an older man, dressed in a white two-piece uniform. The man had to be the Clone Commander that was to train them.
"You have all displayed exceptional skills and unquestionable loyalty," the admiral continued. "You will rise from the ashes of the Death Star travesty and in time you will avenge the Death Star." The new squad clapped their boots together, straightened up as they were pulled in rank. Balled fists held over their hearts in salute to the large Imperial flag draped behind their new handlers. "For the glory of the Empire!"
They all cried out in victorious roars and orderly chants. Iden, not missing any of the vigour and passion of her fellow soldiers. If there were any doubts about her contempt for the Rebel insurgence it was swiftly stamped out by then. Upon the stary ashes of the Death Star, she vowed that the Rebel Alliance would pay. Upon the memories of her friends, she vowed that theirs would be paid in blood.
"For the glory of the Empire," she muttered more to herself.
—=O=—
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not intend to make this story relatively long. A bit of a short little story about Inferno Squad and how I'd utilise it in my own version of the Disney era Star Wars universe.