Two thousand years of warfare, two thousand years of bloodshed and toil in the overwhelming heat of the yellow giant Nelfrim and two thousand years of sorrow and pain for the people of the planet Nellor. Over two millennia the land has been claimed by pirates, federations, republics and the insidious might of the Empire, yet for two thousand years all have met their end in the dust and rocks of the valleys of Kelbranth and the endless chasms of the Fractured Maw. In the sands of the desert Nulo, kingdoms have crumbled to dust. The mountains of Geddem are marred by the remnants of countless spacecraft, their snowy peaks disfigured by artillery fire and bits of scattered starfighter plate. The fortress of Vernalltrell sequestered in the overgrown jungles of Leymere has served use under the Trade Federation, and later the Republic. Both times, its walls were finally stormed, and now it lies silent with only the dead to linger within its decrepit interior. The ash of centuries past fills the skies of the restless planet, leaving it desolate and abandoned.
Abandoned alongside Nellor are the remains of the Empire. Once they were the 801st, a reserve positioned on the outer rim to reinforce key objectives in the star cluster. It's been three planetary cycles since the last communication from command. The orders are to hold position. To defend the system and to keep up the good fight, but as the years drag on the company has become restless. They've heard rumors from passing junkers. The Empire is no more. The New Republic has risen, and they're unifying the galaxy.
Captain Fernan Meer knows that the next battle will be their last. The New Republic is wiping out imperial holdouts across the galaxy. When Nellor is eventually scouted by New Republic forces, it's likely that the 801st will be destroyed unconditionally. Even if they are allowed to surrender, they'll be forced to disband, and Captain Meer knows that's not an option that many of his men would be willing to accept.
He steps out into the bright sunlight of Nelfrim and takes a deep breath. The cool morning air is laden with the scent of olmite char, no doubt the generators were refueled during the night. The sour smell once disgusted him, but after two years stationed on Nellor under the Empire, and another three without any additional contact, he's grown used to its acrid odor. It signifies another day with power, another day of safety. He looks to the horizon. The sunrise has painted the barren rock of the desert a deep crimson. The heedre trees begin to unfurl their spindly branches out into the air, reaching for the warmth of the sun. Meer smiles. The low, narrow buildings around him begin to open up and the soldiers of the 801st begin their day. It strikes him as amusing just how similarly he and his comrades have become to the heedre. In the vicious cold of the desert nights, they hide themselves away until the faint warmth of a new dawn, when they finally can open up into the world. It's a shame, really, that the nights on Nellor must be so dangerous, for Meer has seen few things more beautiful than the twin moons Beja and Illiamar high in the open skies.
A few soldiers pass by his dwelling, peeling insulation pads from the joints of their armor. They salute and Meer gives them a friendly wave. The night patrol has seen nothing, it would seem. In the days of the Empire protocol would be strictly followed and Meer would be given a full report, even if that report amounted to absolutely nothing. Now he doesn't see much of a point, and allows the tired soldiers assigned to the night watch to rest, provided nothing outlined as potentially hazardous has been spotted. Today they pass without so much as a word and trudge eagerly back to their barracks for some well deserved rest.
Meer steps out onto the worn dirt road that runs through the center of the camp and glances down towards the new constructions. They're made from hewn blocks of red stone, rather than the temporary metal fortifications originally constructed by the Empire on its first arrival. The new buildings are holding up surprisingly well, especially for winter. With any luck they'll be able to expand housing more quickly in the future and eventually provide each soldier with an individual abode. Meer's own residence was once a command center erected as a temporary base of operations, not designed to be used for more than a year. Of course, when he was first stationed here on Nellor he thought he wouldn't be here for more than a month. This command post was supposed to be but a step on his journey to bigger and better things.
He begins his rounds, just as he does every morning, walking past the rows of barracks and the refinery before he finally reaches the new developments. The first stone house took weeks to build and properly insulate, but in the end had proved a worthwhile investment. The six structures erected in a tight arc at the end of the road are representative of how they've flourished in this new environment. He stops by the first house on the eastern side where Lika and Tekk both sit, watching as the sun fully emerges on the horizon. Their young son Erik sits beside them, and when he sees Meer, takes a few cautious steps towards the Captain.
"Morning, Captain." Lika says, a wide smile on her face.
"Good morning to you too, Corporal." Meer responds and chuckles quietly as he watches Erik take another unsteady step. "How's Erik? Is he adjusting to the new place well?"
"He's just fine." Lika says, "He really enjoys the room to walk around; and he's getting quite good at that. And Tekk and I really appreciate the extra space. Not that we have a problem with the others, but those barracks were a little short on privacy."
"It's all good, Lika. Soon we'll be able to give everyone their own place and start making this camp feel more like home." Meer glances to the house to the left, "And Erik will be getting a friend soon, or so I hear. Len's getting ready to give birth any day. I've had to pull Kinnan from his duties just so he can be there when it happens."
"I'm glad." Lika says, "By having kids, by accepting this place as our home, we're building our future. We're finally leaving the Empire behind."
"It's good to have hope. Just don't let Jerris or his friends hear you talking like that." Meer cautions and Lika nods. He turns to leave, and is reminded of the more concerning matters of the morning. Not all of the soldiers are willing to completely abandon the ideologies of the Empire yet, and while Meer respects their commitment to their duties, he finds their manner of objection concerning at the very least. Multiple threats have been made against those who speak ill of the Empire, even while the company is unsure if the Empire still even exists. Chief among these dissenters is Lieutenant Jerris, Meer's second in command, though it isn't by Meer's choice that he's attained such a high ranking. Seniority within the Empire, along with a few friends in the right places, managed to land Jerris a high ranking officer position, and while Meer doesn't enjoy his presence, he finds himself in a difficult position regarding the older man's rank. If he were to remove Jerris from his position, Meer would inevitably upset the sizable chunk of his company that still vehemently follows the protocols of the Empire, for the action would be seen as an unjustified rejection of the chain of command. Furthermore, Meer cannot simply make the decision on the authority of his rank alone, as such an action could lead to him being labeled a dictator by his detractors. For the moment he's been treading the fine line between the two factions that have begun to form: the one that still follows the rigid systems laid in place by the Empire, and the one that wishes to start anew on Nellor. He knows the time will come to make a choice, and prays that he won't be forced to make that decision so quickly.
Later, in the dry heat of the early evening when Nelfrim hangs low in the reddened eastern skies, Meer finds himself alone. His duties complete, at least for the time being, the captain is left with a few moments for quiet reflection. The day past as well as the day previous have been uneventful, for the most part. The camp has become more or less self-sufficient, with no major hazards or shortages at present. Yet a dark cloud lingers on the horizon. The soldiers grow restless, feeling an encroaching sense of dread. Meer feels it too, more strongly, a powerful urgency building within him, a pressure gripping his heart, driving him to shake himself free from the binds of apathy. It pushes him to strike first before the enemy can attack, but of this enemy he knows not. The 801st knows no foe on Nellor, and so the feeling only builds and builds without release within the recesses of his mind.
"It will be dark soon." A voice interrupts Meer's thoughts. He turns and recognizes a trooper; Corporal Korden. She's no stranger to Meer's evening contemplation, and the captain's preferred haunts on the fringes of the camp are hardly secret to any within the 801st.
"There's a few hours yet before nightfall." Meer responds. He turns to her and his suspicions are confirmed. A nervous anxiety is written across her face. No doubt she's plagued by the same restless energies that have troubled him for the past few months.
"It still worries me." She admits, "Even though it's consistently been nightfall that brings the onset of this deadly frost, I feel as though I can't trust this planet. I keep expecting a betrayal, a sudden change in the rules."
"We've been here close to six years, Sable." Meer reassures, "We have no reason to believe anything will change."
He pauses before continuing. The corporal has clearly sought him out for a reason. Out of all the soldiers in the company, Sable and Meer share an odd commonality, one neither of them can completely explain.
"Are you feeling alright?" He asks, "Is there anything troubling you?"
"It's nothing." Sable responds, "Just a feeling. A sense of overwhelming foreboding. Like a dark wave that lurks just outside of my view, preparing to crash down and swallow us all. Every day I expect it to fall, but every day it just builds, higher and higher."
Meer nods. It appears that she recognizes this strange sensation just as clearly as he does and any thoughts of such a strong sense of anxiety being driven by his own mind are put aside. He'd wanted to believe these feelings within himself were the product of his taxed mind, but with Sable sharing these feelings, these visions...
He's forced to accept that perhaps his gut instinct is right. That perhaps there is some inevitability dawning that he can't quite see coming.