"And you see sergeant, one enemy you cannot see is far more dangerous than an army waiting outside your gates…" Commander Tharcourt instructed as he and Sergeant Felian reentered the new quarters of Imperial Special Reconnaissance Team Delta-7, after taking a late breakfast in the mess hall. The construction had finished late in the last evening, resulting in a mostly-complete team staging and barracks area. The two had awoke early, and engaged in a friendly competition of sit-ups and push-ups, with the sergeant seizing a slim victory over his commander. The game had later ended when Tharcourt had taken the scout trooper to the shooting range, where he proceeded to prove his mettle with a blaster, scoring five points higher than the NCO on close and intermediate targets. To punctuate his expertise with a blaster pistol, the commander had, after firing an impressive five-shot group, engaged the weapon's safety and spun the blaster around his trigger finger a few times, and holstered it expertly.
"Good shooting, sir." Felian commented.
"No sergeant, that was effective shooting. No such thing as good shooting."
"I stand corrected, commander." The trooper said. Felian had already taken a liking to his new commanding officer. He had never served under a commissioned officer who did PT with his men. He wasn't sure if he'd ever had a C.O. who ever did PT, in fact. Nor had he met many officers who talked with their subordinates. Most were content to just issue orders and rant a lot. Felian was a career soldier, and he got the feeling that this unusual Commander Tharcourt actually was too.
As they entered the main room, which would serve as a lounge and briefing room for the team, both stopped dead in their tracks. Standing in the very center of the room at 'order arms' was a tall trooper, clad in shining black armor. Held firmly in the right hand of the imposing armored soldier was a huge blaster rifle that not even Commander Tharcourt recognized. The faintest green glow emanated from the tips of its helmet's breathing apparatus. The only sign that there was someone or something in the suit of black armor was an unnerving sound of steady breathing. Yes, this was most certainly a Death Trooper. Nobody knew anything about these highly-trained soldiers and assassins except that they reported to ISB, were deadly-efficient, and if you believed the scuttlebutt, were either cyborgs, reanimated cadavers of deceased stormtroopers, or a combination of both. Tharcourt swallowed, and blinked rapidly a few times.
"Can I…Can I help you?" He greeted. Suddenly, the Death Trooper snapped to life, brought its weapon to 'shoulder arms', and gave a salute, bringing its left arm across its chest, its thumb resting against the massive blaster.
"Xray…Gamma…Zero…Niner…Seven." A mechanical voice ticked off methodically. "Reporting to Commander…Special Reconnaissance Team…Delta…Seven." Then it became silent again.
"Re…reporting?" Tharcourt queried. "I am not sure I understand…um…"
"Xray…Gamma…Zero…Niner…Seven." The Death Trooper repeated, its garbled voice echoing in the room, giving it an even more eerie effect. "I am ordered to report to Commander Tharcourt…regarding vacancy in Special Reconnaissance Team…Delta…Seven." He finally understood. This intimidating trooper was applying in person for his new team. He didn't know whether to be pleased or terrified.
"Right." He stated. "Um…Please, step into my office. You may give your rifle to Sergeant Felian for the time being." The trooper brought the blaster down to 'inspection arms' and stood like a statue. Tharcourt cast a glance at the scout trooper, who hadn't moved or said a word the entire time. "Well sergeant…um…take temporary possession of…XG-0…97's weapon." Felian opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He exhaled sharply, and slid his helmet onto his head.
"Y…yes sir." He saluted, and slowly walked to the black-armored trooper. He carefully reached out and grasped the blaster. Immediately, the Death Trooper released its grip on the weapon, and its hands shot down to its sides. Sergeant Felian blew a long breath from between pursed lips, and carried the heavy blaster quickly to the weapons storage room, happy he was getting out of the same room as the bio-mechanical supersoldier.
"Well, right this way." Tharcourt motioned toward his office, bowing respectfully. He led the trooper into a smaller room, where a large desk sat with two chairs in front of it. The commander took a seat behind the desk, and the Death Trooper stood at attention in front of it. He cleared his throat. "At ease, trooper." The armored soldier immediately went to 'at ease', still looking very mechanical. "So you would like to become part of Delta-7, I understand."
"Yes sir." The trooper simply stated.
"Well, we would be glad to have you of course, given your unit's…reputation. do you have references?"
"Classified, sir." The Death Trooper stated.
"Oh…I see." The commander mused. "Then I can assume that your commanding officer is…"
"Classified as well, yes sir."
"Right…" Tharcourt didn't know exactly what to do. "Who my I contact about your…application?"
"Any questions can be directed to ISB Colonel Wulff Yularen." The trooper answered. Tharcourt tapped the index finger of his right hand on his desk a few times, then reached over and pressed a button on his desk.
"Communications." A male voice said over the speaker.
"Yes. Commander Drakken Tharcourt Operating Number KL-7752 with a priority message for Colonel Wulff Yularen." There was a few seconds' silence.
"Patching you through, sir." The voice stated. Several beeps. The Death Trooper hadn't moved a millimeter that Tharcourt could see.
"Colonel Wulff Yularen's office." A voice finally answered. "Captain Amniant speaking."
"Captain, this is Commander Drakken Tharcourt, Imperial Special Forces. I have a priority message for Colonel Yularen. Can you give me a direct comms link?" The sound of typing was heard. Tharcourt again tapped his finger against his desk again. The Death Trooper still did not move.
"Colonel Yularen. Security code Alpha-566. What can I do for you, commander?" The voice of the ISB Director finally asked.
"Colonel, it seems that I have a member of the Death Trooper Squadron in my office and…"
"Yes, yes, that's right." Yularen interrupted. "You were searching for skilled soldiers. I thought you could use one of mine. I hope you understand that lawfully I cannot give a glowing field report, but you can trust that you are getting a very…very talented member of a premier stealth unit. you are to assign XG-097 to your unit at once, commander. Unless you have any uncertainties, that is."
"No…no uncertainties at all, sir." Tharcourt sighed. "Thank you, Colonel." The comms panel beeped to show that the transmission had been ceased from the other end. Tharcourt looked at the Death Trooper and raised an eyebrow.
"Did you…bring your papers, by chance?"
"Yes sir." The trooper stated, and from a box on the back of its belt withdrew a folded stack of papers. It handed the bundle to the commander, and went back to 'at ease'. He looked at the trooper a few moments. "I suppose I should welcome you to Delta-7. What is your rank?"
"Weapons Sergeant, sir."
"Good. I could use a weapons expert." He said, trying to sound genial. "What is your name, sergeant?"
"X-ray…Gamma…" Tharcourt held up a hand.
"Nonono…if you are going to be in my unit, I like to know the people I am working with, not the numbers. You…have a name, right?"
"Yes sir."
"And…can you remove your helmet…" Tharcourt began, feeling nervous. "I mean…physically?" He almost didn't want to ask.
"I can if you wish." The Death Trooper stated. The commander forced a smile.
"Well…I would like to meet my new weapons sergeant if you don't mind." He said in the friendliest voice he could muster. In his mind, he dreaded this. The things that he had heard. The Death Trooper's hands slowly grasped the shining black helmet, and Tharcourt had a terrible vision of a rotting skull with wires and hoses protruding from it, red eyes that shot lasers. The helmet slid upward, and he let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.
Underneath was not some reanimated abomination or horrifying droid-human hybrid. It was a fairly normal-looking woman in her early thirties. She had almost chiseled features, with a strong jaw. Her brown hair was clipped very short, and a set of amber-colored but normal human eyes stared forward sternly. Her skin was almost ghostly pale, no doubt from the constant wear of her armor and helmet. She held the bucket under her left arm, and Tharcourt had to take a moment to let it sink in that he was looking at a living human being.
"I'm sorry, sergeant." He finally spoke. "If I'm to be honest, I didn't know what the hell to expect there." He was sure he saw it. A slight flick of a smile on her lip. "Given the stories…I heard you were all…cybernetic…or worse." The woman trooper inhaled.
"Not cybernetic, sir. Genetically and biologically enhanced for strength, and mental and visual acuity."
"What do you mean…enhanced?"
"Classified, sir."
"So you're just a human…just a…better one." Another quick and fleeting smile.
"Yes sir."
"What's your name?"
"Weapons Sergeant Meeka Daraay, sir." She responded, Drakken nodded.
"It's good to meet you, Sergeant Meeka Daraay." Tharcourt greeted. He picked up the copy of the personnel file, and quickly read through it, to find out that, as he suspected, nearly everything in it was blotted out with black 'classified' and 'redacted' stamps. All he could glean is that she was an expert in weapons, espionage and explosives, and she had a two-page combat record he couldn't read. He scoffed.
"They tell you why they sent you to me, sergeant?" He asked. He leaned forward. "Don't worry…you can be frank with me, Daraay. At least as frank as you're allowed to be, that is." Sergeant Daraay finally realized that this wasn't an officer like the ones she had served under in ISB. He was a combat officer for sure, but he was more relaxed and informal than what she'd been used to. He was goading her to be more casual and informal than her training usually allowed, and it was strange to the highly-skilled living instrument of the Empire. Still, she could see no trickery in him. Her eyes could detect no sweat or change in body language to detect lying or nervousness. She finally broke her normally sere mannerisms for a moment, if just to test the waters.
"Yes sir." She stated. "They said this unit was going to utilize unconventional tactics to eliminate rebel groups. They told me I was to help in covert direct-action missions against the traitors, and to act as a Close Protection Agent…to you, commander." And there it was. Death Troopers acted as bodyguards to the highest of Imperial officers, and officers engaged in top-secret operations. Moff Tarkin had a platoon under his personal command. They were mercenaries of a sort, acting solely under the command of whatever officer they were assigned to. And he had just been given one. He internally heaved a sigh.
It was an unexpected surprise, but a welcome one to have gotten such a combat effective and highly-trained warrior assigned to his unit. He was more than certain that Sergeant Daraay would be a boundless asset, and the loyalty of a Death Trooper needed no description. Still, he reasoned that his unit would have to have a certain dynamic to be truly effective. A certain bond had to be formed between the soldiers, of trust in one another, and of respect based on truly knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses. Would the intimidating and unapproachable bearing of a Death Trooper throw that balance into disharmony? Would there be resentment or outright fear? Tharcourt remembered how Sergeant Felian had been affected by the presence of Daraay in the office. Something would have to be done to help her be seen as true member of the team, and not just some all-destroying but mindless battle droid.
"I'm happy to have you, sergeant." Commander Tharcourt said with a welcoming tone. "Consider yourself part of my…ahem…our outfit. Find a bunk, and make yourself at home." He thought for a moment. "Alright…all the SOPs you need for now, Daraay…You don't have to wear your bucket unless on guard duty or in the field. You also can turn off the recorder and transmitter in your helmet. This unit is rarely kept under the thumb of our superiors."
"Understood, sir." Sergeant Daraay nodded.
"Um…mess hall is always open for us, as is the training hall and gymnasium, so feel free to use them whenever you want…off the clock, of course."
"Of course, sir." She stated dogmatically.
"That's about it for now. If it's alright, I'd like to place you on guard detail for the next few days."
"What is my post and instruction, sir?" Daraay asked.
"Until I get more manpower, which will hopefully be in the next day or two, Delta-7 facilities are only open from eleven-hundred to seventeen-hundred. You can take the eleven-hundred to fourteen-hundred guard shift outside this office."
"Understood, sir." She returned. "Do you have a list of authorized personnel?"
"Of course. Any personnel arriving for interviews may enter freely. Expect quite a few of those. Command officers of The Accuser, to include Flag Captain Piett, down only to bridge crew on his staff can be admitted. Of course, Grand Moff Tarkin or his aides, and anyone you know in command at ISB." He thought for a moment. "Emperor Palpatine…let him in if he comes…" Daraay suppressed a smirk. "And anyone with a security clearance greater than Command-Level 5 can usually go where they want. That's about it."
"Yes sir."
"Oh…and if an ensign named Thorne happens by, she is allowed into low-security areas as well." Tharcourt added, remembering the young officer from the day before. "Now that covers it."
"It is currently twelve-hundred-twenty-three-hours." Daraay stated. "Shall I assume my post and duties effective immediately, sir?" Tharcourt smiled a little. Small steps. At least he got her to take off the bucket.
"You may do so." Tharcourt nodded. He stood, and the Death Trooper locked her helmet into place and rendered a salute, which the commander returned. She exited the room, on her way to her post by the entry to the unit's small alcove on the ship. Tharcourt huffed and shook his head. This command…
He exited the office, and walked into the lounge/briefing room to see Daraay was already checking her weapon out of the equipment room, Felian nervously seeing to the return of her blaster. She dutifully turned and exited the room, and the commander saw her take her place to the right of the door before it slid closed. Tharcourt strode over to Felian as the scout trooper locked the door to the ad-hoc weapons vault, gently shaking his head. The sergeant turned and stared at his commanding officer a moment.
"What do you think of out new comrade, sergeant?" Tharcourt asked.
"It is actually joining the team, sir?" Felian questioned.
"Already has, Felian…already has."
"Well…" The scout mused. "I think it looks like it can tear through rebels like a proton bomb, sir. It's really kind of…won't it make most of us seem…superfluous by contrast?"
"Oh, not at all, sergeant. Just another member with a very useful skill set, I think." Tharcourt replied with a smile. "Sergeant Daraay is a good soldier. Just take some time getting use to her, I suppose."
"Yes sir…wait…Sergeant Daraay? Her?"
"Well of course, Felian. Didn't think all the Death Troopers were male, did you?" Tharcourt commented wryly.
"Well…no…but I just assumed that they were all…somewhat inhuman."
"Well I'll let you in on an Imperial Secret, sergeant." The commander whispered. "I've seen one without the helmet." Felian took off his own bucket and raised an eyebrow.
"You don't mean…" He began, looking towards the door, then back to Tharcourt. He made a disgusted face. "If I can ask, sir…what did it look like?" Commander Tharcourt struggled to maintain his composure.
"Hm…never been a good judge of such things myself. I would say somewhat comely, for an augmented supersoldier." Felian looked mortified.
"Sir…with all due respect…comely?"
"I mean…some fellows…or ladies I suppose, might like brunettes. But I suppose how she looks doesn't matter, sergeant. Like all officers, I expect every man in the unit to observe protocol. Just because we have a regular-looking human female on our team, I just want everyone to comport themselves as soldiers. Understood?"
"Um…yes…sir." Felian answered, still confused.
"Good. Now I have a couple prospective members coming in a few minutes. Please show them into my office when they get here."
And with that, you know how a Death Trooper came to serve in the unit. If you want to know what the surnames of these characters mean, look it up. You'll find the meaning behind their names rather interesting. This was by design. I checked the stats on this story, and I'm happy that so many people are reading it. I hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am writing it. I will try to get another chapter up sometime either tonight or tomorrow, depending on how I feel and how busy I am. So until then loyal reader, Cheers! -Drake