Difference between revisions of "Anon Drekk"

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Once Anon had managed to attend the Advanced Gunnery class, he became devoted to the idea of graduating from the prestigious Starfighter Combat School. But now that he was operating in such an enormous ship, it started making a lot more sense for Anon to complete the one missing pilot qualification in his profile: capital ships. The Capital program was a lot easier to access, since everyone was trying to get into starfighters, admission to the helm school was much less competitive. Anon liked to fly, but he went into the program fearing that he would become bored. It was anything but relaxing and Anon once again gained an entirely new appreciation for the symphony that is an effective bridge crew. He also grew a new level of appreciation for gravity and how it can be harnessed to swing a massive object around in space.
 
Once Anon had managed to attend the Advanced Gunnery class, he became devoted to the idea of graduating from the prestigious Starfighter Combat School. But now that he was operating in such an enormous ship, it started making a lot more sense for Anon to complete the one missing pilot qualification in his profile: capital ships. The Capital program was a lot easier to access, since everyone was trying to get into starfighters, admission to the helm school was much less competitive. Anon liked to fly, but he went into the program fearing that he would become bored. It was anything but relaxing and Anon once again gained an entirely new appreciation for the symphony that is an effective bridge crew. He also grew a new level of appreciation for gravity and how it can be harnessed to swing a massive object around in space.
  
Mandalore continued to transform after Anon became a qualified naval pilot, eventually becoming a corporate mercenary empire in order to retire the old bureaucracy of government for more direct administrative policies. Essentially evolving into a streamlined paramilitary unit, it was much easier for Anon to outfit his infantry and arrange better ship and vehicle assignments. Mandalore's first contractor was the Twilight Foundation, although a number of other Mandalore citizens were also recruited by the rival GenSci Institute. Within the ranks of Mandalore it created a sort of friendly rivalry and Anon pressed into his assigned patrol zone on Togoria with great zest. The missing Twilight droids had wandered into the grassland hunting preserve which Anon had established to support his appetite for the hunt and so just by a stroke of luck, he was able to locate them almost immediately upon his arrival. Unfortunately, GenSci agents showed up in much larger numbers. They methodically disabled every Twilight droid, one at a time and Anon was powerless to prevent it, but he was able to recover two of the ionized droids and destroyed the rest to prevent them from falling into GenSci hands. The GenSci operatives, who turned out to be an expedition from the New Republic, were furious. Anon tended to rub people the wrong way sometimes, especially in battle.  
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Mandalore continued to transform after Anon became a qualified naval pilot, eventually becoming a corporate mercenary empire in order to retire the old bureaucracy of government for more direct administrative policies. Essentially evolving into a streamlined paramilitary unit, it was much easier for Anon to outfit his infantry and arrange better ship and vehicle assignments. Mandalore's first contractor was the Twilight Foundation, although a few Mandalore officers were actually recruited by the rival GenSci Institute. Within the ranks of Mandalore it created a sort of friendly rivalry and Anon pressed into his assigned patrol zone on Togoria with great zest. The missing Twilight droids had wandered into the grassland hunting preserve which Anon had established to support his appetite for the hunt and so just by a stroke of luck, he was able to locate them almost immediately upon his arrival. Unfortunately, GenSci agents showed up in much larger numbers. They methodically disabled every Twilight droid, one at a time and Anon was powerless to prevent it, but he was able to recover two of the ionized droids and destroyed the rest to prevent them from falling into GenSci hands. The GenSci operatives, who turned out to be an expedition from the New Republic, were furious. Anon tended to rub people the wrong way sometimes, especially in battle.  
  
 
On another occasion Anon had seen articles coming from Serroco in which he was able to view military casualty reports from a skirmish the Death Watch was having against the Tresario Star Kingdom. He stared at the figures in disbelief, hundreds of Mandalorians had died wrecking only a few companies of droids. It made no sense, Anon knew droids to be convenient support equipment but certainly not actual warriors. Droids were terrible fighters, how could this be? While rival Clans tarnished themselves celebrating the retreat of the Death Watch, Anon went with just his personal guards to investigate. He landed the Nightsong on the familiar rooftops of Serroco City and immediately located a Tresarian standing down by the highrise taking potshots at some distant target with an X-45 sniper rifle. Anon took a position out in the open, on the street in the shade of the big skyscrapers and laid down volleys of direct fire which seriously wounded the lone gunner. It just so happened that Anon's target was Kevin Wolff, a Fleet Admiral of the Star Kingdom and the reaction to Anon's probe was swift and fierce. Anon counted over a hundred guns lighting-up his position, cheap droid blasters mostly. But Wolff returned from his AT-AT with a sniper team of his own and somewhere another Tresarian was shooting at him with ELGs, Anon recognized the blaster bolts. They took cover and weathered a tremendous amount of fire before withdrawing into the Eddicus and making a swift disappearance. Anon had found out what happened to the Death Watch and he had even managed to bring all of his cats back to the Nightsong with him. They still laugh about that day, but the Star Kingdom was livid and Anon even heard about it through his Commanding Officer.
 
On another occasion Anon had seen articles coming from Serroco in which he was able to view military casualty reports from a skirmish the Death Watch was having against the Tresario Star Kingdom. He stared at the figures in disbelief, hundreds of Mandalorians had died wrecking only a few companies of droids. It made no sense, Anon knew droids to be convenient support equipment but certainly not actual warriors. Droids were terrible fighters, how could this be? While rival Clans tarnished themselves celebrating the retreat of the Death Watch, Anon went with just his personal guards to investigate. He landed the Nightsong on the familiar rooftops of Serroco City and immediately located a Tresarian standing down by the highrise taking potshots at some distant target with an X-45 sniper rifle. Anon took a position out in the open, on the street in the shade of the big skyscrapers and laid down volleys of direct fire which seriously wounded the lone gunner. It just so happened that Anon's target was Kevin Wolff, a Fleet Admiral of the Star Kingdom and the reaction to Anon's probe was swift and fierce. Anon counted over a hundred guns lighting-up his position, cheap droid blasters mostly. But Wolff returned from his AT-AT with a sniper team of his own and somewhere another Tresarian was shooting at him with ELGs, Anon recognized the blaster bolts. They took cover and weathered a tremendous amount of fire before withdrawing into the Eddicus and making a swift disappearance. Anon had found out what happened to the Death Watch and he had even managed to bring all of his cats back to the Nightsong with him. They still laugh about that day, but the Star Kingdom was livid and Anon even heard about it through his Commanding Officer.

Revision as of 20:52, 15 May 2018

Anon Drekk is a Mandalorian male of Klatooine. He serves in the Mandalore Heavy Fleet as commander of Green Group and Fleet S4 Officer, at the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. He hails from Aliit V'r'caah, where he sits upon the Council of Elders as Clan Voice and holds the rank of Warden. His armor is grey and black with dark blue trim, a mirrored visor and helm adorned with spikes and tusks. In military dress he also wears the pauldron and belt of service to the Mand'alor.

Anon Drekk
Drekk2.png
Biographical Information
Race Klatooinian
Homeworld Klatooine
Clan Aliit V'r'caah
House Halissk
Mother Rolanda
Father Drekk

Venari Haliat (adoptive)

Marital Status Single
Siblings Unknown
Born Year 6 BCGT Day 239
Languages Mando'a

Huttese

Basic

Religion Manda
Physical Description
Gender Male
Height 1.8 Meters
Coloring Olive
Eye Color Black
Political Information
Affiliation Mandalore
Title Warden of V'r'caah
Rank Alor'itsad
Positions Heavy Fleet S4
Awards See Below


Youth

ShagPeedunkee.png

He was born with another name, which was rarely even used by his parents who called him by his nickname "Mah Bukee" instead. His birth name was never told to the Hutts, who simply called him "Shag Peedunkee" without giving the matter a second thought.

He was born indentured to Zorda the Hutt on Year 6 BCGT Day 239 at 17:28 hours to his father, Drekk, and his mother Rolanda on their homeworld of Klatooine.

He was raised traditionally. He was taught to speak Huttese, the language of his masters, but not to read it. He played games which developed strength, agility, stamina and observation skills. He was taken to see the Fountain of the Hutt Ancients and was taught the virtues of patience, perseverance and the power of age. He learned about Barada M'Beg's sacred war and the unbreakable divine bond which accompanies an oath. As he grew larger and stronger, he was moved to higher classes where the other children were typically even larger than he. Every time he became confident and self-aware, the bar was raised higher to humble him. He was taught to box, kick, grapple and shoot. He learned how to do simple math in his head and to fight with different lengths of sticks. He was taught his father's trade.

He graduated from Council School quite early, and just one season after his ninth birthday he was culled by the Council of Elders and put to the trials. He demonstrated a high degree of trade proficiency, so the Council agreed that he should be made stronger still and was put up for sale to the local magistrate, Zorda the Hutt, with recommendation for hard labor under harsh conditions. He sold immediately for a nice pile of credits, making his family and the Council very proud. Zorda already had him sold to an Imperial contact for three times what he had paid the Council of Elders, so the Hutt was equally pleased with the arrangement. "Shag Peedunkee" was bound for the Imperial spice mines.

Liberation

He got settled in Zorda the Hutt's Adz Patrol Destroyer, along with a number of other children who were also being delivered to the Imperial contact in deepspace. He shared a slave cabin with six other adults who were indentured members of Zorda's company of marines. He exercised along with them, much to their amusement and became a sort of mascot to the battle team he lodged with over the course of the journey. It was going to be a long trip, as the destroyer was under Zorda's orders to patrol outside of the system perimeter and at random locations along the way for possible raiding targets. It gave the young Klatooinian time to really think about what lie ahead, at the end of his course. On their third mini-jump, they found a target. A MandalTech BFF-1 Bulk Freighter drifting in space, her sublight and hyperdrive engines both offline. Scans indicated that there were only a couple dozen crew aboard, but the cargo bays were loaded to the rim with Varium. Zorda the Hutt wanted it.

He rode on the shoulders of the squad leader until they reached the slave quarters, when he was set down and told to guard his cabin. The marines were already there, scrambling into their armor and grabbing belts and bandoliers as they rushed outside to the armory to be loaned one of Zorda's weapons. The team leader was the last one out, lifting the young Klatooinian's frightened chin and comforting him "Don't worry, champio. These are miners and laborers, we can handle them. You stay here and protect our bunks." The youngling nodded, switched off the cabin lights and ran to hide behind the big Gamorrean's rack, where the lights in the passageway left a deep shadow.

When the marines had all gone, the quarters became strangely silent and in a few moments there was a big crash and a forward pitch which tested his balance. They had docked with the crippled bulk freighter. Echoing through the empty passages, he heard the hiss and pop of the breach and the sudden crescendo of blaster fire immediately after. He was amazed at the ferocity of the sounds: yelling, shooting, metal striking metal, the terrible impacts hammering the walls. Soon he could even smell the acrid scent of blaster burns. The fighting wasn't going down below into the derelict freighter, it was coming closer! The deck below his feet began to shudder as grenade blasts pounded the passageway. He pressed himself deeper into the corner of the cabin and listened with terror as the battle grew nearer and nearer.

Then, just as suddenly as the firestorm had began, it stopped. The smoke cast a haze, which turned the lights in the passageway into bright shafts of white light. He listened, but the only sound was a whispered shuffle and an occasional metallic click. It was over. Just then, a dark shape swallowed the light and he looked up to see a man in an iron suit sweeping the room with a blaster. The man in iron did not see him there behind the Gamorrean's bunk, but the rack which held his training sticks was on the starboard bulkhead and he estimated that it was about six paces away. When he looked back from the weapon rack, the Mandalorian was already upon him!

He shouted and made a break for the starboard side of the cabin, but the Mandalorian was stepping on his foot and he was trapped. He roared and struck hard at the T-shaped visor which had drawn closer to examine him. The visor hurt his hand. The man in iron stepped back and made a strange sound, the little Klatooinian was confused at first, then he recognized it. The man in iron was laughing.

The Mandalorian wore armor with yellow trim and in a swift and effortless gesture he seized the boy with a three-fingered grasp and wound the Klatooinian's arm into a knot, leaving him with only one arm left to use and the wrong angle to use it. That was when a second man in blue armor stepped through the threshold and holstered his weapon as he approached. The two men conversed with one another in a strange tongue which the young Klatooinian had never heard before, but then the blue armored warrior turned to him and spoke with a strange accent in the language of his masters.

"You try to defend yourself. Would you also defend your family?"

His reply was as much a protest as it was an answer. "Yes!"

"Would you work to benefit your tribe and answer the call of the Warrior Eminence?"

He was becoming a little confused. Who was the Warrior Eminence? Did they mean perhaps his master? That was the moment that he began to realize, they were talking about his new master. This was his oath-taking! He had prepared himself, but not for this. His heart raced.

"Yes, I would."

"Will you wear your armor and learn our language?" He had always enjoyed learning, and Huttese had been one of his favorite subjects. He marveled at the chance to learn a second language. He would be worth even more as a bilingual servant.

"Yes. But Zorda the Hutt never gave me any armor."

"You will have to earn your armor. Would you teach your children the things that you have learned?"

"Of course..." he replied, never having once even considered the possibility of having kids of his own.

The two Mandalorians nodded to one another, and they both stared at him for an uncomfortable moment. The gold man released his arm and then reached up and removed his helmet. He was a Trandoshan, with bright orange eyes. His face was covered in scales and he had an old scar running across the left side of his forehead. The Trandoshan offered his hand and said something in the strange tongue to the blue man, who strode over to the cabin terminal and indexed the passenger registration. "Anonymous filius Drekk", he read from the glowing screen. The gold warrior peered deeply into the Klatooinian child's eyes as they took each other's hand. He held the Trandoshan's hand tightly, not sure what was about to happen next. The gold warrior stood tall and spoke loudly.

"Anon Drekk. Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad."

He looked to the blue warrior and asked "What does he say?"

The blue Mandalorian answered, "Your name is Anon Drekk, he accepts you as his own son."

Adopting children was a fairly common practice among the slaves, when younglings became separated from their parents by trade. The young Klatooinian was familiar with these types of arrangements. He looked up at the scaly warrior and asked the blue man "Is he a slave too?"

"NO!" The abruptness of the answer startled young Anon, "Venari Haliat is no slave and neither are YOU!"

Adolescence

Anon's entire life changed on that fateful day when Zorda the Hutt learned an expensive lesson: Mandalore ships, even civilian industrial haulers, are crewed by Mandalorians. Anon was told that he would have to start school all over again, but it never really felt that way to him. The subject matter and study methods stood in such stark contrast to his experience of Council School on Klatooine that it seemed to Anon as if he were simply continuing his education.

He was amazed to learn to speak his new language while learning to read and write it all at the same time. Reading was a miracle which only the Hutts knew how to perform. Anon had seen their strings of symbols many times, but he was never able to understand what they meant. Later as he matured into adulthood, he would take Huttese as an optional language program, just so that he could finally learn to read and write it as well. Once Anon became literate and fluent in Mando'a, he was then introduced to computers and taught how to operate their basic features. Most of his computer classmates were much younger children.

While his previous training on Klatooine gave Anon certain advantages over the other students, his enslavement served him at least twice as many disadvantages. The Council School had worked very hard to erode Anon's sense of individuality and the Mandalorian Academy had to work just as hard to rebuild it. It was years before Anon was thinking like an independent person and taking pride in his achievements.

Once Anon was operating computers, he was able to run speed-learning programs and his education accelerated considerably. He learned how to do written math to generate more accurate results, and this led to the study of complex mathematics, chemistry, physics, biology, mechanics, geology, electronics and astronomy. Anon was trained in the much more refined Mandalorian fighting art called Jakelian, which he took to with great enthusiasm. The new style was more reserved, giving him a better sense of balance and relying less upon brute strength so that he was able to conserve his energy and fight without growing tired. At the center of the art was a system which could be adapted to any weapon type and so they trained with daggers, swords, axes, pikes, even whips. The Academy nurtured his marksmanship skills and improved them, and Anon marveled at how they practiced with actual military weapons instead of harmless training blasters and weighted wooden replicas.

Anon learned to pass and receive orders by hand signal, radiocomms and holocomms. He studied strategy and took flight training. He learned economics, music theory, medicine and poetry. Anon had discovered a whole new galaxy of knowledge which seemed to have no frontiers. But while he learned to be a person at the Academy, it was at home that he learned to be Mando'ad. His adoptive father taught Anon the meaning of the Resol'nare. They would spend countless hours together, playing cu'bikad while his father lectured about the Canons of Honor, the Manda, the virtue of decentralization and the Clan structure. Sometimes when his father had been at the ne'tra gal, he would even speak of the Force and it's sorcerers. Anon often just assumed that his father meant to speak of the Gods of old mythology, until one evening when his father said "The Living Force binds the universe together, Anon. I do not know where it came from, it is older than Kad Ha'rangir."

By the time he celebrated his twenty-second birthday, he was very near to graduating from the Mandalorian Academy. As he was completing his final exam for the hyperspace calculation program, a Galactic News Service broadcast which flickered faintly over the feed caught his attention. He dialed it in. It was the Warrior Eminence.

"Whether you follow Resol'nare or the Supercommando Codex; are a government official or a mercenary; it does not matter. Each of our groups exist to serve the betterment of our people and our culture, we are Vode An."

He remembered that day, thirteen years ago, and what he had said to the blue warrior.

"Would you work to benefit your tribe and answer the call of the Warrior Eminence?"

"Yes, I would."

Anon contacted his tutor immediately and volunteered for combat on Serroco. He expected some sort of scholarly consequences from the Academy administration, but the reply to his request came with very little delay. It said, "We'll do the paperwork".

When he informed his father, he was summoned home where Venari was waiting for him with drinks. They sang songs together for awhile, until his father's mood became serious.

"Anon," he said "I'm sorry that I have not had the time to impart all of my knowledge to you. Now the hour grows late and my son marches to war. Do you remember our talks about the Force and it's sorcerers?"

"Of course father," Anon tipped his glass and the ice rattled "The universe is unfolding exactly as it should, but the sorcerers harm the Force by bending it to their will and diverting the lifestream to gain advantages for themselves."

"That is correct" his father replied, "On the surface the Jedi and Sith present themselves as polar opposites, but in their hearts they are the same. They seek to dominate the Force out of the presumption that they know how to run a universe better, but all they do is throw things out of balance and the Living Force must take drastic measures to correct the lifestream's natural course."

Anon put his glass down. "Father, why do we speak of such things?"

His father smiled a toothy, reptilian grin. "You are a gifted knife-dancer, Anon. Your timing is perfect, your movements are fluid and balanced. How did you achieve this?"

"The secret of Jakelian," Anon answered "is to balance the mind upon the knife's-edge of the moment."

"You must continue to practice your blade-dancing, my son. Train until your body learns the dance and no longer requires the mind's involvement. Great power comes in threes." Anon was puzzled. "Father?"

"To defeat a Jedi or a Sith in battle, you must focus your attention three moves ahead of where you actually are. The first move must break the sorcerer's rhythm, leaving them open to suggestion. The second move manipulates the sorcerer into thinking that they want to go exactly where you want them to be. The third move strikes without hesitation while the sorcerer is vulnerable."

Anon stared at his father in wonder. "Practice your knife-dancing with your mind focused three moves ahead, Anon. There is no other way to prevail against a sorcerer."

Armor

Since his new Commanding Officer was already on Serroco, Anon reported to the Fleet Adjutant instead and stood tall before the humorless man who sat grimly behind his desk at the processing station. The Adjutant scrolled through Anon's Academy records without the slightest hint of interest, then dropped the tablet flatly onto his desk. "What is it exactly that you want to do for the military, recruit?"

Anon had put quite a bit of thought into this subject and he didn't really need to ponder. "I would like to serve as a scout. Pathfinders, advance recon... that type of work. I understand that there aren't many who do that."

"They are few indeed", the Adjutant replied as he picked the tablet back up, "but not due to a lack of volunteers. Scouts are special operators, you don't just start out as a pathfinder." The officer sternly scrolled back through Anon's records as if taking an inventory. "You are now hereby officially commissioned 0-1, Ver'alor. I'm assigning you to the Heavy Infantry in order to find out if you've got what it takes to serve as a scout. You'll be shipping out to Serroco immediately."

Anon found it difficult to contain his excitement, but his facial expression would soon change. "There is no crusade taking place on Serroco, Ver'alor. It's a rendezvous, a Mandalorian festival if you will. The Death Watch is attending and they're hosting a traditional Death Hunt, billions of credits worth of prizes are up for grabs to the warrior with enough grit to claim them. You'll be pulling city overwatch detail during the entire event."

Anon's face became very nearly as dour as the Adjutant's. "You are to remain at your post for the duration of the festivities and observe and report on all urban traffic. You will be an intelligence-gathering machine. If you stay on task and provide information which is of any military value, then maybe afterwards we can discuss your interest in becoming a pathfinder. Understood?"

"Understood and acknowledged." he replied, trying to mask his disappointment. "Security team?"

"They will greet you when you've arrived at your post." The Adjutant grinned and handed Anon his orders and briefing pack. "You can take the Tea House, moored in orbit over Okyaab 3. Have a pleasant flight, trooper."

Anon approached his first official ship assignment with a great deal of anxiety. Bayonet-class Light Cruisers were an impressive sight, looming there in space like some sort of titanic spear-head. He was mesmerized by the flashing deck lamps as he gently cruised alongside and waited for his clearance codes to process.

Once docked in, the ship's crew made quite a production out of ceremoniously greeting their newly assigned Operations Chief. After the necessary formalities had played themselves out, Anon was appraised of the ship's readiness and general condition and he in turn informed the crew of the ship's objectives. They went straight to work. Anon was a bit relieved once he had met the Skipper and Deck Chiefs, they were sharp and professional and seemed to know their corvette as well as they knew themselves. He felt honored to be serving among such Mando'ade.

First he needed to dock with a couple of space stations which served as military supply dumps and load a mountain of cargo crates, each tightly packed full of scanning equipment, armor, packs, belts, Bacta cartridges and all of the little articles and accessories of battlefield fashion to haul with him to Serroco. It was a few days of heavy lifting and careful invoicing, but while he was at the quartermasters he was able to draw his own personal Besbe, his combat gear allowance.

Anon burst with pride as he examined his very own suit of custom Sienar power armor, the special Cabur-model stocked by the Aliite for outfitting their volunteers. Ever since the loss of beskar technology, Mandalorian armorers had been forced to seek alternative suits for the younger generations of warriors to wear. One of the more successful experiments was with custom modified Corellian Powersuits just like the one Anon had been issued. These were essentially the same as the standard suit but with a fully enclosed helmet, signature T-visor, optic display, jetpack mounts, macro ports and other distinctly Mandalorian features.

The suit was flawless and stiff, it's plates flashed in the cabin lights with an unblemished sheen, like something that you would see on parade. Anon stared at it with a certain disdain, for the suit's polished newness seemed to mock his own lack of experience. Punching up the power, the suit indicated that it's energy cell was at full capacity. Satisfied, Anon set himself to the task of strapping himself in.

It didn't fit.

At least, not properly. But it did cover him and the helmet was able to lock into the contacts and power up so technically, it would work. He tried to do his knife-dance in the suit, but it was too tight and restricting around his shoulders, and too loose in other places. "Well." he remarked to himself, "Let's hope for ranged encounters then." Anon walked over to his bunk, where his Besbe was neatly arranged as if for an inspection. Picking up his assigned A295 blaster rifle, he was examining it's optical aperture when a soft ping from the intercom caught his attention. "Yes?"

"We've cleared the gravity well and engaged hyperdrive engines. ETA to Serroco is twelve hours."

"I copy twelve hours, is that correct?" Anon was stunned.

"Correct, we'll send you a prompt on arrival." The intercom went dark.

"Haar'chak!" he muttered to himself. Somehow, Anon had been under the impression that he was deploying to some distant star, far far away. He hadn't even bothered to examine a map yet.

Twelve hours... he punched up the star charts on his cabin console and queried Ploo Sector. There it was, basically in the Mand'alor's back yard. Disappointed with himself for failing to properly research his Area of Operations, he made himself comfortable and zoomed in on the Serroco System. One planetary body rotating around the sun, a temperate breathable atmosphere with a mere 750,000 residents. Focusing upon the planetary geography he stared for several minutes, the place was blown to the Manda. Most of the surface was heavily cratered by what appeared to have been an epic bombardment. Only a single urban center remained, his post. It didn't even have a name.

He awoke from a strange dream to the gentle ping of the intercom. "We have exited hyper and are currently running sublight to the objective." Anon lifted his head and looked around for his helmet. They had arrived. He rushed to the bridge, down corridors which bustled with activity. Stepping up to the helm, he peered with wonder and anticipation at the beautiful gem of a temperate world suspended in the blackness of space.

"Shall we assume stable orbit with the rest of the fleet?" the Skipper proposed. "That's a negative," Anon replied "take an approach trajectory for five-seven and drop hot."

The Skipper nodded to the coxswain, bellowing "You heard the Chief!" and the crew instantly busied themselves preparing for the re-entry. "Just out of curiosity," the Skipper asked, "how exactly do you formulate a security plan for a place like this?"

Anon grinned. "The same way you formulate any defensive strategy, Skipper. By planning to attack it."

Once the corvette was landed, Anon took a walk around the urban complex in order to survey the bottlenecks, strong points and potential ambush sites. As he returned to the ship's Landing Zone, his assigned security team was waiting to make their introductions.

A salty Kuati woman stepped forward, "Ver'alor Anon Drekk? I'm Aalya Vigil, we're glad to have you here." Anon grasped her hand carefully, he was still getting used to the servos in his Powersuit and had already experienced a couple of issues with accidentally over-tightening things. "Aalya, glad to be here. This is your team?" "Affirmative," she replied and proceeded to introduce the others. Zeb Hagui was a trooper who was originally from Naboo, and then there was the Zabrak Luha Volsh, a Mon Calamari named Frederic Gallamby and the intimidating Barabel Wezz Hu.

"Excellent," Anon took their hands and exchanged greetings. "Where are all the rest?"

The security team grinned at one another while Aalya explained "We're it, Ver'alor. Our objective here is just to maintain the peace, we aren't here to assault and occupy the position." Zeb tried hard to suppress an involuntary chuckle. Anon had to wonder how many times these veteran fighters had been placed with a green operator, fresh out of the Academy and swinging at everything that moved. He was a little embarrassed.

"Of course." Anon swallowed a little pride and continued "I hope you'll forgive me if I seem overzealous, this is my first post." The team appeared to take humility well, smiling back at Anon with approval. "So," he said as he pulled off his helmet, "I still need to get in touch with Command and officially assume my post. Everybody flake out for awhile and then we'll take a little rove, you guys can give me the tour. That sound alright?"

The team cheered together "Ori'jate!"

The main traffic zones would be at the starport and the shop, both located on the east side of town. The west side was residential, with the largest population on the north end and most of the commerce on the south end. There was a hospital, a tavern, a hotel... but no military targets other than the power generators. It was the only power grid left on the entire rock and as far as Anon was concerned it was his task to protect it.

The locals were utterly terrified. They were the last survivors of an Armageddon. The rest of their entire planet was either wild or scorched and the surface literally crawled with the only forms of life which could benefit from such devastation: predatory creatures and roving bands of armed marauders. The craters were a desperate and violent place and the residents dared not leave their city for any reason.

The situation was surreal.

But they had a job to do and they set themselves to the task, coding security protocols for droid sentries, setting them at their posts, establishing an overwatch terminal aboard the "Tea House", encrypting comm channels, programming IFF and scheduling watch rotations for roving ground patrols and speeder overflights.

Anon even performed a team inspection and was a bit dismayed at the Besbe they carried. Being Mando'ade they took great pride in their armor, which was immaculate and smartly presented. But they were only very lightly armed and so Anon brought them to the Tea House armory and issued them each a pair of ELG sidearms. They also didn't have enough rifles and so Anon had to make sure that the best marksmen of the group carried what longarms they did have. As a finishing touch he drew six jetpacks, one for each of them. Anon reasoned that they could give the team an added advantage in the urban environment.

On the second inspection Anon walked down the line with a great and satisfied smile. There they stood: in Cabur-model Powersuits, jetpacks mounted, twin blasters strapped to their legs, sharp as hell and ready to die. They looked like warriors of Mandalore now. Frederic and Aalya struggled with the weight of the jetpack at first, even with their Powersuit servos. It was the first time that Anon got to hear Aalya's catch-phrase: "Is this really necessary?" but they got used to it after awhile.

Over the next few days the team got settled into the routine of their watch schedule. Ships slowly began to arrive and find landing space around the city as the opening ceremonies of the Death Hunt drew closer. The streets were coming to life with the traffic of a growing number of paramilitary tourists: Foreign Legion from Krath space, Death Watch, First Sun, GalSec, Tresario, Ailon and more than a few lone freelancers. It was looking like the event was really going to develop into a major contest of arms, with representatives from every corner of the galaxy participating.

Anon kept a close watch. He knew that with so many professional warriors in town and nothing to entertain them but the tavern until the Death Hunt began, violence was a distinct possibility. On Day 265 the Tea House received a coded security bulletin warning all stations to be on the lookout for the arrival of an enemy of the Mand'alor, a Kaleesh named Armus Zod, a registered contestant who had recently made some rather bold threats at a public conference. The report indicated that Zod would not be likely to arrive on Serroco for another month, but on Day 270 it became clear that the intel on the target's schedule was a deception.

Anon awoke for his evening watch at 18:00 hours. He had no idea that he was about to fire his very first angry shot.

Casually strolling up to the overwatch terminal, Anon yawned and peered through the haze of slumber at the softly flashing alert icons. None of the security nodes had been attacked and so no general alarm had been routed to his cabin, but there had been a lot of blaster fire detected in the streets. He stared for a moment in disbelief and then began a triangulation process which brought his attention directly to the big, open square in front of the hospital. Two Krath Alliance citizens were down, both seriously injured. Their droid entourage was in smoking ruins scattered around the plaza. A Kaleesh warrior in heavy battle armor opposed them from a position in front of the shop. It was Armus Zod, his Strike-class cruiser was landed at the four-way intersection on the north end and despite the enormous volume of blaster fire cataloged by the nodes, Zod barely had a scratch on him.

Anon pounded the intercom terminal. A few seconds later he heard Aalya's sleepy voice, "Yeah?" Anon belted "We got action, warm it up." and just before the terminal went dark he could hear Aalya's voice in the background shouting "OYA!" to wake the team.

They were dressed for battle in minutes and Anon met the team in the Tea House hangar bay where they were briefed on the situation. Command wanted reliable intelligence on this individual's capabilities and the composition of his forces, so they were going to go and get it. They mounted into a planetary shuttle and jettisoned out into the city, charging their blasters as they lifted off. Once they gained altitude and began to cruise towards the plaza, Zod climbed into his armed barge and headed south along the city perimeter. Anon shadowed him from a distance while Frederic pinged Zod's hull with the shuttle's sensor suite and performed a spectral analysis of the results. Looking up from the glowing screen, the Mon Cal blurted "Lots of infantry..."

Anon watched carefully, and when he saw Zod dismount from his vehicle Anon landed his speeder so fast and hard that the rest of the team had to reach for something to hold onto. Anon barked "Deploy!" as the shuttle door swept open. The team stormed out onto the street with Anon right behind them. Dashing past them with pistols drawn, he fired his jetpack and the team followed as he landed in an elevated position with a superb field of fire over Zod, who stood alongside his barge scanning westward through a pair of binoculars. Once everyone was on line with their pistols out, Anon gave the team a nod and everyone stood up and delivered a blinding torrent of blaster fire.

Armus Zod was taken completely by surprise. He ducked, feinted left and then rolled right and came up with a blaster rifle in his hands. The world around Anon dimmed and became a silent blur as he focused his attention tightly upon his target, continuing to squeeze his fists and direct bolts of harm at his foe. A great slap tugged at his hip. Zod dove and twisted, returning fire as he scrambled back into his barge through a cloud of smoke and dust.

Wezz growled "Did you see those moves?" as the team lifted their fire and stared. Zod's barge throttled up with a roar and dipped it's nose west along the city perimeter at full speed. Anon checked his pistols and barked "Report." The team quickly checked each other and Aalya replied "Three scrapes. We wounded him. Anybody scope his gear?" Luha chimed in, "Full spectrum." Anon glanced down at his hip, which was starting to sting a little. He was hit, but his suit had deflected most of the damage. This was an impressive adversary.

Anon got on the comms and called for backup. They watched as the barge cruised down past the tavern and stopped at the next intersection. Zod had spotted a group of droids belonging to another contestant and dismounted carrying a Force Pike which he wielded masterfully, scrapping the security drones one after another.

Anon watched for a moment, then turned to the team and bellowed "Mount up." On the way back through the hospital to the shuttle, Aalya's voice echoed through the corridors, "Is this really necessary?" Even Anon had to chuckle this time. "Yes Aalya", he inserted between breaths, "we have to keep... the pressure on, get him to show... more of his hand."

Leaping back into the shuttle, they lifted off and raced across the city zoo, setting back down again just on the other side. They hadn't even bothered to shut the passenger bay door. They burst right back out onto the street and raced on foot to the dead end, taking positions among the stone sculptures which decorated the yard of the residential highrise. Anon turned to the team, "Aalya, Zeb. Security."

The two humans bounded off to take positions covering the team's rear flanks while the rest formed a firing line and got behind their longarms. "Range..." Anon called out as he dialed-in his macros, "...seven hundred." Passing a glance back and forth, the team indicated that everyone was ready and waiting for the operator. Zod was still over there on the perimeter road, wrecking droids in enfilade. Anon took a deep breath and then let it out slowly as he squeezed the handle of his A295. When the team's fire started to pluck at the air around him, Armus Zod began to dive and roll as he continued to melee with the last remaining droids.

Again and again Anon fired his weapon in anticipation of Zod's next move but his adversary was quite keen, staying low and sometimes even using the droids he fought as cover. Only once was Anon able to clearly see that he had struck his target, but the bolt was diverted and burst harmlessly on the surface of Zod's thick armor. After watching a couple more of the team's shots glance off the heavy plating, Anon cursed. He had asked around at the supply dump for a BlasTech rifle but the A295s were the only longarm they had in stock. It was a remarkable weapon, surprisingly accurate at long range, but the A295 just didn't have enough punch to really hurt this foe.

Armus Zod mounted back up again and roared westward towards the power generators. Anon's team displaced to the opposite side of the highrise and took new firing positions facing southwest. Weapons at the ready, they observed as the armed barge came to another halt and what appeared to be a well disciplined squad of Trandoshan rifles came pouring out and promptly engaged a small team of roving patrol droids which belonged to an eccentric Mando'ad Jawa that Anon had met up at Command. They held their fire. Anon was riveted on the distant action and called out, "Scope them."

A second later, Luha called back "Got it." and Anon gave the hand signal to pull out. As rear guard, he watched as the last of his friend's security droids crumpled to the ground. Once back inside the shuttle, they lifted off and continued to shadow Zod's barge until it had made it's way around the perimeter and back to the landed capital ship, "Supernaut".

"We need to take a sensor sweep of that Strike-Class..." Anon thought out loud, to which Frederic commented "When we lifted off from the Tea House." Anon grinned, what a team. Nodding to Frederic, he added "Compile the data, tag it and stream it to the Tea House. Have them relay it to Command direct."

The Mon Cal nodded and gurgled "On it."

The team had a special debriefing session at Anon's cabin, which involved some small amount of ale. Anon was pleased. In the name of the Mand'alor he had both shot someone and been shot. The team had outperformed his expectations and together they had successfully gathered some valuable military intelligence. Wezz hissed "That was no warrior, that was a Champion."

"Yes well," Anon commented "best stay sharp. This town is scheduled to be full of champions. Let's just hope that most of them aren't as lusty as Armus Zod."

The next day Anon was making a routine patrol through the traffic zones. Zod's cruiser had lifted off and the town seemed to be slowly resuming it's usual activities. The team was making it's way through the starport and as they passed through the foyer and into the main concourse, there it was.

A long-barreled blaster was propped up against the far wall. There was nobody else around it. As they drew closer Anon could see that there was a stack of equipment on the floor in front of the blaster and once they got near he recognized the pile as a neatly stacked suit of armor.

Somebody had just left their Besbe sitting around in the starport concourse! "Death Watch?" Aalya guessed. The blaster was an LJ-90 BlasTech, the exact rifle he had wished for the previous day. Examining the armor, Anon noticed right away that it was unusual. It was a Sienar custom Powersuit, Cabur-model no doubt. The helmet had the enclosed face, T-visor and macro ports. The back plate had jetpack mounts. But the cut was different from a normal Cabur-model: it had a different breastplate, the cooling system was more elaborate and it was fitted with a pauldron. This was a desert suit, Anon spent his childhood in the open desert and he knew.

Reaching down to punch the power, the suit registered a full charge and when Anon hit the registry menu to display the suit's owner the word "Anon." flashed on the screen, causing him to sit up straight and chuckle at the irony. Aalya leaned over closer to read what Anon found so humorous and they both stared. "Anon." was the abbreviation for the high Imperial word "anonymous", indicating that the armor had no registered owner.

Anon looked around, but nobody was even paying any attention to them. He hauled the strange Besbe back to the shuttle himself and nobody stopped them or said a word about it the whole way. Later that night Anon sat on his bunk and pondered the stacked suit which sat in the corner of his cabin. Curious, he sat up and walked over to the suit. Lifting the helmet up he placed it onto his head. It was actually quite comfortable, the vents lined up with his nose a lot better and it didn't mash his cheeks so much. Encouraged, he began to strap himself into the rest of the mysterious desert-commando armor.

It fit.

It fit him properly, like an expensive tailored suit. He tried his knife-dance and ended up training for a solid hour. It was completely amazing, he felt liberated in this armor. Anon sat down in front of the cabin console and registered himself as the owner of both the suit and the BlasTech they had found with it. The registration passed.

Anon sat back and wondered as he began to realize: this armor and this blaster were his very first private possessions. It was a most unconventional method, but he appeared to have earned his armor.

CadetDrekk.avatar.png

Resol'nare Serroco

Two months later, Anon leaned back away from his computer terminal and took a stiff shot of tihaar. He deserved the indulgence, he had been struggling with the task of his first standard After-Action-Report for nearly 48 hours. It was not a casual task, sorting through three months of communications logs and field reports. Every action was brought back to him again as he scanned through long streams of sometimes tense transmissions, trying to distill the harrowing details of those events into objective statements of military facts. The tihaar burned his throat, it was good to be alive.

Anon's eyes fell upon his Beskar'gam. Neatly stacked in the corner of his cabin, the desert Powersuit seemed to have lost some of it's sheen. Once carbon scoring has fused to a surface, it never brushes completely out. He set his glass down and stretched his arms, the liquor was beginning to warm his heart and it was a great relief to be finished with the report. Command could now have their journalism. The glow of the terminal touched Anon's face with an emerald light as he looked over the composition one last time.


After Action Report

Operation Resol'nare Serroco

Heavy Fleet, Oriy'arane Ol'averde

Anon Drekk, Operations Chief

The Oriy'arane arrived in the Serroco System with the Bayonet-Class Light Cruiser "MSS Shig Morut" on Day 251 and moved directly into an orbital vector to drop on Serroco City. Our orders were to provide ground reconnaissance over the urban zone, although I personally felt that local security was also implied by our deployment. One does not usually send a Mando'ad to be a peaceful observer.

The system was relatively quiet, although First Sun remnants had already started building up an orbital presence and an old Veritas article I found from Year 14 spoke of these mercenaries once attempting to dominate the surface of Derra IV.

We landed the Shig Morut on the roof of the southwest skyscraper in Serroco City and started working to complete the security network: finishing the droid sensor grid, fortifying key positions and getting a mission IFF update issued. Full coverage in appropriate spectrums was achieved by Day 254, although a number of cabure-droids remained privately owned despite my suggestion that they be standardized. The Jailspeeders which were aboard the Shig Morut were docked into the skyscraper where they could be deployed to street level, along with the Chela-Class starfighter I used as a personal transport. With the cruiser landed on the rooftop and the vehicles stored hull-down inside the facility they were protected from detection and focus-scanning.

Security roves on Day 255 detected the presence of Kentaro Roma of the Corporate Sector Authority and Naviera Hugacha of Mythical Trading. The very next day the Kyr'tsad began making their appearance, although they made multiple false landings over the next nine days before finally settling upon a landing zone down at the street level in the intersection at (8, 8). Allied forces never really occupied rooftop positions. On Day 259 Krath-allied forces from AXE Foreign Legion began to arrive and deploy at a landing zone just south of the Shop. Grace Munna dismounted and stood watch the next day as several GalSec TC-9 transports began to arrive at the intersection beside the starport, each loaded with infantry squads. On Day 261 the AXE expedition began to unload their own vehicles and three more GalSec transports were spotted moving south into the craters. The following day Allen Shapiro dismounted and joined Munna on the street, but they did not mobilize, only continued to stand watch over their landing zone. While traffic in the city was steadily increasing, the peace of the city was not really being disturbed.

On Day 265, the arrival of Lorenzas Atticus of the Ailon Nova Guard was monitored at a landing zone on the south side of town. Over the next couple of days, the security team was drilled for battle and a series of very successful jetpack exercises were conducted. But on Day 270 the team's unit cohesion was put to the test with the arrival of the renegade Armus Zod.


Zod landed his Strike-Class Cruiser "Supernaut" at the (8, 8) intersection and immediately went rampaging through the city, assaulting the AXE landing zone and reducing Munna and Shapiro's droid security force. He was intercepted at the southeast perimeter road and attacked by the Oriy'arane from a position on the Hospital rooftop, but Armus Zod escaped and pushed westward into another droid security force belonging to Cait Catra. Zod dismounted and destroyed these droids as well, while the Oriy'arane continued the pursuit supported by Mat Warbringer. Zod's armor was too thick for our A295s to effectively penetrate and when Zod encountered one of Warbringer's droid security forces, he countered with a squad of Trandoshan riflemen and swiftly eradicated them. Oriy'arane could not prevent their destruction or recover any salvage. Maltron Dias was appraised of the situation and reported that he was prepared to deploy his own force but Zod did not venture into enfilade again. The next day his cruiser lifted off and the city resumed it's usual activities. Patrols through the Starport resulted in the confiscation of a Corellian Powersuit and an LJ-90 BlasTech which were abandoned in the main Entrance where Lars Rithel and Kentaro Roma were taking refuge.

On Day 272 Warbringer requested medical resupply and the Shig Morut lifted off to load from the orbital depot. On the way up, Armus Zod pinged our hull with his sensors and once stable orbit was achieved we cataloged eight Tresarian Sabaoth Destroyers loaded with over a thousand infantry holding position above the planet. Zod's cruiser had returned to the intersection by the time the Shig Morut set back down on top of the skyscraper but the streets remained peaceful.

The arrival of Raidan Spike and Talak Augustin were documented on Day 276, after the Oriy'arane returned from it's first patrol into the crater lands beyond the city perimeter. During the rove we encountered a squad of armed bandits and I was able to score my first two confirmed kills in the resulting skirmish.

By Day 279 allied forces were beginning to become concentrated in the city. Echuu Shen-Jon and Phoenix Hamid had landed and deployed with mobile heavy weapons teams, Kash Montari had a rifle squad on the ground, and the Kyr'tsad posted a rifle squad at the (8, 8) intersection. The Oriy'arane counted forty-eight total allied infantry occupying the streets and decided to expand our patrol patterns to include more regular visits to the surrounding craters. Another bandit skirmish on Day 281 resulted in my third confirmed kill. However, upon returning from search and destroy operations in the craters on Day 283, it was discovered that allied forces were not effectively keeping the peace. Many local facilities were found to have been recently subjected to a great deal of heavy weapons fire. We conducted an extensive search of the entire urban zone, cataloging the arrival of Grevendar Togl and elements of the Tresario Star Kingdom. Kyr'tsad droid security forces near the Starport were discovered to have taken a great deal of blaster fire as well. Later that evening, the Oriy'arane observed Echuu Shen-Jon deploy his heavy weapons and open fire upon the southwest skyscraper which served as our headquarters. He was promptly challenged and politely instructed to stand down. While Shen-Jon's reply plainly expressed his intention to continue, he did in fact cease fire and we eventually pulled back to administer medical treatment to Allen Shapiro at the AXE landing zone.


On Day 284, Armus Zod attempted to start a fresh rampage through the city streets and was routed by the combined forces of Echuu Shen-Jon, Maltron Dias, Peter Max, Bel Krosa and Kash Montari. The Oriy'arane did not engage, still being under-strength and lightly armed. On Day 285 we conducted another sweep into the craters and engaged another group of bandits, bringing my own personal body count up to eight. Upon returning from the patrol the very next day, Echuu Shen-Jon was observed firing small arms at the city facilities with a large formation of T-Series droids.

Shen-Jon had already been contacted regarding the practice of firing at public facilities and so the Oriy'arane attacked even though outnumbered three to one. The result was a diplomatic uproar which continued for the next two days, but while Shen-Jon was distracted with formal protests, his position was overrun by Tresario's Kevin Wolff. The Oriy'arane agreed to stand down and Shen-Jon withdrew from the city.


On Day 288 a shipment of the new A280 rifles arrived in orbit and the Shig Morut took another trip up to draw arms for the security team. An evening expedition into the craters yielded a lucky encounter with armed bandits and I was able to field test the new guns and score my ninth confirmed kill. The Oriy'arane requested more reinforcements on Day 290, when reports suggested that the Galactic Civil War might be approaching Serroco. The Tresarian assault against Shen-Jon's position seemed to lend some credence to these reports and the Heavy Fleet heightened it's alert level, although the Oriy'arane element was still not up to combat strength and I lacked confidence in the team's ability to repel a military threat with the available personnel.

A crater sweep on Day 292 resulted in another skirmish with bandit forces, after which I counted my eleventh confirmed kill. While the security team prepared to continue it's sweep, we received a bulletin announcing that an international summit was going to take place in the city within 24 hours. The patrol was immediately cancelled and the Oriy'arane returned to Serroco City to set up an overwatch to guard the event. Early the next morning Zao Nephalem dismounted from his vehicle on the north end of town and shot a domestic Eye-snatcher belonging to a neutral bystander named Gaerrar Nordanvindurinn. Echuu Shen-Jon, who had returned to the city to attend the ceremonies, witnessed the shooting and attacked. Nephalem was routed and withdrew from the city. The summit took place in the afternoon and was attended by dignitaries from six nations, including Mandalore, Krath, the Corporate Alliance, Pentastar Alignment, Chiss Ascendancy and the Kyr'tsad. The ceremonies went uninterrupted and formally established a non-aggression pact between Mandalore and Krath, during which Aliit Ar'Klim declared it's recognition of Andrew Panzer as Mand'alor.


The very next day, the security team was returning from a perimeter probe which resulted in my fourteenth confirmed kill when Armus Zod's Strike-Class Cruiser "Supernaut" returned to the intersection at (8, 8) and Zod waged an assault against two squads of Krath infantry who were posted in enfilade down on the street. When the bulletin announcing the postponement of the Death Hunt until Day 297 was received, the Oriy'arane engaged and fought a running battle against Zod even though we were still under-strength. We kept to the rooftops, where we couldn't be observed by Zod's infantry and maintained a steady base of fire. Armus Zod broke his engagement with the Krath infantry, which had been reduced down to just one survivor, and displaced eastward to wage a new assault against Lacoste Danes' security droids at the AXE landing zone. As we continued to direct suppressing fire at Zod's position, our line was nearly discovered by Lexor Gregain's speeder overflight, but the formation continued south and the Oriy'arane maintained it's base of fire until Armus Zod withdrew to treat his wounds.

Early in the morning on Day 295, Zod resumed his marauding and was engaged by Zachill DeSol. Responding to DeSol's call for backup, the Oriy'arane took a position on the roof of the Starport but Zod spotted us and the security team came under heavy bowcaster fire, forcing us to displace with two wounded. We formed a new firing line and provided covering fire while DeSol pulled back. I was giving my casualties some attention when Armus Zod mounted back up and displaced in his Jailspeeder "Brazin Bull" back to the Supernaut landing. The Oriy'arane was busy replacing a destroyed cabure-droid, which was causing a sensor shadow on our grid, when Zod disembarked and killed the last Krath rifleman standing watch over their landing zone. Zod was seriously wounded by our suppressing fire, but he mounted back up again and continued westbound to the perimeter road to target a group of Argo Viridian's wounded. We bounded forward and formed another new line, delivering direct fire which hit and stunned Armus Zod. The infantry were observed carrying Zod back to the Jailspeeder, where he received treatment and was revived. The Brazin Bull powered up and continued south with the Oriy'arane in close pursuit, then it turned and followed the perimeter road eastward towards the Hospital. Zod was observed to halt the armed barge at intersections and then emerge from the hatch to scan his surroundings, so the security team set up an ambush on the next intersection ahead of Zod's path and waited. As expected, the Brazin Bull paused in the kill zone and Zod started to emerge from the hatch and was hit once again. Before he could take cover, a second volley of fire struck and stunned Zod a second time. He was observed falling back through the hatch, critically injured. We scanned our flank to find out where the fire was coming from and discovered that Mand'alor Panzer himself had taken the field with a squad of Wookiee warriors to reinforce our positions. The Jailspeeder hesitated in the intersection for a moment and then raced to a vector facing the Mand'alor's line and rapidly delivered almost fifty rifles to the street, which formed up into tactical columns and attempted to overrun the Mand'alor's position in force. It was a well coordinated maneuver, but Mand'alor Panzer repelled their thrust despite being caught in enfilade. The Oriy'arane opened fire on Zod's flank, killing one Kaleesh warrior and wounding two others, while the Mand'alor withdrew to treat his wounded. Zod's routed infantry loaded back into the Brazin Bull and Armus Zod withdrew from the field to treat his own casualties. It was the end of a running gun battle which had been going on for two days.


On Day 300 I was on a Star Tours domestic flight bound for Togoria, disguised as a refugee and determined to recruit Togorian Aliit'vode to serve in the Oriy'arane. I was able to locate the recruiting center and make arrangements to meet recruiting prospects for offworld employment, but none were immediately available and I returned to Serroco City alone. During my absence, the highly publicized Death Hunt event, hosted by the Kyr'tsad, came to a conclusion on Day 302 and celebrations involving contestants and their fans on the streets of Serroco City resulted in the destruction of the public Commerce Center. An intercepted transmission recorded by the Shig Morut suggests the involvement of Zao Nephalem. I was back on post by Day 304 and a routine patrol discovered evidence of New Republic traffic, but after a brief examination of the Commerce Center wreckage, I was straight back onto another Star Tours flight. On Day 306 I met with Togorian authorities and hired thirty-one adult males who seemed to take great interest in the Mando life, they were the only qualified riflemen who attended. We arrived back on post in Serroco City on Day 308 and the security teams were reorganized and immediately taken out on perimeter sweeps to gauge the level of training and discipline among the new recruits. A brief clash with a group of armed bandits resulted in my fifteenth personal kill. With more troops on station, arms became an issue once again and the Oriy'arane requested more A280s and ELG-3As. By Day 310 we had scrounged together all the rifles we were going to get and none of the sidearms, so I spread the weapons out the best I could and put one short-range and one long-range rifle squad on roving patrol through the city streets. Ge'tal Squad (long range) had action almost right away, coming under fire on the north end of town from a Bosph combat team led by Xarlande Rekloda. I assembled my security team and took a rooftop position to support Ge'tal Squad's counterattack. One of my men was wounded in the firefight, but Rekloda suffered four killed and six wounded before yielding.

On Day 313 Conner Ryun arrived in Serroco City, painted with a hostile IFF signature. Ge'tal Squad engaged and wounded him on sight. Alerted by their fire, my security team engaged and knocked Ryun to the ground. Later that evening another probe was conducted into the craters and I scored my sixteenth confirmed kill in a brief clash with bandits. By Day 318 our search and destroy maneuvers through the craters resulted in my eighteenth personal kill, and my nineteenth on Day 321. In the city everything was relatively peaceful and most of the really dangerous mercenary forces had lifted off from the planet following the closure of the Death Hunt. The big war between the GA and the IU never really manifested. On the way back into town from the sweep on Day 321, the arrival of Mando`ade was discovered and their arriving forces cataloged. The Mando`ade deployment was closely monitored over the next four days as they installed an independent security network, and it was decided that with the additional friendly security presence in the streets, the Oriy'arane might be free to probe more deeply into the craters and possibly even into the temperate jungle terrain in the west. However, the order to prep for strategic disappearance postponed the hunt until allied cabure-droid networks could be evacuated from the countryside. These evacuations were completed up to the city boundaries by Day 328, and the Oriy'arane immediately deployed into the jungle to await the signal to step offworld.

The first encounter the Oriy'arane had with bandit forces in the jungle resulted in my twentieth confirmed kill and the confiscation of a prized Nightstinger sniper rifle. Armed with this impressive new precision instrument, my personal body count went up to twenty-seven by Day 330. However, while engaging another group of jungle renegades the very next day, the Oriy'arane suffered it's very first death. A pair of nesting Acklays were disturbed by the team's blaster fire and charged our position. Caught completely by surprise, Jorus Samick fell and two other warriors were wounded fending the beasts off. We promptly displaced and put the Acklays down, I personally felled the beast which killed Samick.

The Oriy'arane fought it's last combat action on Day 333 against a bandit patrol in the western jungle, pushing my confirmed kills up to twenty-nine. The order to pull back to the city was received on Day 337. We raced back at top speed and dismantled the security network on the double, loading the Shig Morut and conducting an orderly disappearance from the city by dawn on Day 338.


Anon poured himself another shot of tihaar and was about to toast Jorus Samick when a ping at his cabin door interrupted the gesture. He set his glass down and spoke "Enter", to which the door snapped open with a muffled whine and revealed Antar Brower, one of the leaders of his Clan Guards.

The Togorian bore a soft feline grin. "No write book, Chief." Anon smiled back, noting that Antar's Mando'a was starting to improve and replied "It's done, I just have to send it. What's the situation?" The big hairy cat ducked back through the portal and called back "Only check. Time for food."

Anon tossed the shot back and braced himself for the sting. Gasping "Don't call me late", he hit the transmit bar and pointed himself at the galley. It was good to be alive.

Chaavla Oya'karir

Once again Anon's life had turned a corner. The older veterans had long heckled young officers by proclaiming that they must first spend three months under fire before claiming to have lost their virginity. Anon had bitterly noted that his deployment on Serroco came to an end just three days short of the hallowed ninety-day mark and when he confessed this to the older warriors, they just laughed and toasted the efficiency of the Heavy Fleet. "It's not ninety actual days, Ver'alor," the Sergeant-at-Arms explained "it's three months, which are a metaphor for three moons, which themselves are only symbolic of specific events. You passed the first moon when you were injured by hostile fire. The second, when you killed a hostile soldier. You passed the third moon when you lost a soldier under your command." His baptism was accepted.

For his actions during Operation Resol'nare Serroco, Anon was promoted to the rank of Sol'yc Ver'alor and awarded the Mandalore Bronze Star. He also received the Army Betterment ribbon and much to his surprise, a second Letter of Commendation. A thorough review of his official Record of Commission indicated that Anon had already been awarded his first Letter along with a Logistics ribbon prior to operational deployment. Searching the files appended to his record, Anon found the official Declaration of Academy Graduation, which he had never actually examined before. Thus he discovered that his first Letter of Commendation had come directly from the Dean of the Academy.

Life in the Mandalore military gave Anon the impression of being more like Council School, when he was a small whelp on Klatooine. His memories of it were vague and fragmented, like ghosts which would occasionally manifest in the form of a strange mood or in dreams. But he was familiar with the practice of singling out the confident and placing them into unfamiliar situations. It forced them to grow and to temper. Like the Fountain.

The Heavy Fleet was like that. It turned out that the entire Mandalore military complex had been preparing for a massive reorganization prior to the Death Hunt. The Army was being folded into the Navy and the new combined fleets would handle all strategic theaters from the void of deepspace to the bottom of the sea and all zones between. Anon, who was just becoming comfortable with the idea that he was now a baptized officer, found himself confronted with the reality of being only half a warrior. He was comfortable with the task of coordinating deck chiefs, even more comfortable with the yoke in his own hands. But Anon didn't know the first thing about using a ship to fight. At the Academy he had filled all his elective brackets with infantry science programs and had intentionally avoided anything Naval in nature.

Anon's adoptive father Venari was the head of House Halissk, the dominant family of Clan V'r'caah, and the leader of the Vheh'adalore. While Venari Haliat was a Trandoshan immigrant who was privately devoted to his native Scorekeeper religion, he also honored the Resol'nare and raised Anon to be Mando'ad. Like all members of Clan V'r'caah, Anon was raised to be a hunter and handler of war beasts. His passion for the deep silence of wild places and the thrilling tension of stalking one's prey fueled Anon's fascination with the hunter's craft. His very first trophy was a Vornskr tail.

But now Anon found himself walking the sterile decks of spotless starships in the eternal night of space, longing for the brush of the wind and the scent of lush plants and rich soil. The Heavy Fleet restructuring kept Anon's schedule filled with pending objectives. Tarnith, Lorell, Trunska, Prakith, Ordo, Draboon... places that he had only ever read about were becoming a direct experience. Anon's status as Academy alumnus entitled him to access the lesson program archives and he spent most of his spare time trying to brush up on the subjects which he had always brushed off. He became aware of Navy customs and protocols and finally began to understand just how patient and forgiving the crew of the Tea House had actually been to their brutish and grisly Army ops chief. Anon also gained a new appreciation for the entire series of multiple epic engineering feats necessary to make a capital-scale starship function. Inertial dampers, reactors, gravity fields, air processing, hyperdrives, sensor suites, power nodes, computer mainframes, repulsor fields, deflector arrays, fire control centers... on a star destroyer each major technical group would have it's own Chief and hundreds of enlisted crew working in shifts. Anon had only been very dimly aware of what went on around him aboard the Tea House. But he was learning how all these systems and all these people worked together to make a large ship into a single living thing, almost with it's own spirit.

Anon celebrated the turning of Year 17 back on Okyaab 3. Part of the reorganization project required the militarization of a group of MandalTech scientists who were scheduled to do research work alongside fleet forces. Anon was assigned to lead them in physical fitness drills and teach them formations and hand signals. They were smart, as he expected them to be, but what Anon did not expect was their marvelous sense of humor. They had some memorable times together, pounding the parade ground and making cadence out of the theme songs from popular children's entertainment programs, like Youngling Fun Ring and Kaptain Katarn. That was when the order to deploy for combat reached Anon a second time.


There was a problem in Kessel. Planet Honoghr was sending a coded distress signal, hundreds of Noghri citizens had gone missing and marauding slavers were suspected. Anon's heart leapt in his chest. He was to get suited-up and take the lead of Green Squadron, Star Wings. They were to set a course straight down the legendary Kessel Run as the advanced reconnaissance flight for Operation Rough Hunt. Behind them would be arriving the core elements of the new Heavy Fleet and supporting logistics elements from MandalMining. Anon's orders were to be the eyes of the fleet, to get down there first and find those slavers. Search the entire planetary surface, catalog everything he came into contact with and stand by for the iron hand of the main force. Anon stared at the order. Slavers! For the first time, a curious sensation crept over him and he suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable in his skin. He wondered to himself, "What will I do if I stand before a Hutt?"

So all the time spent becoming familiar with Navy traditions and procedures, learning about the anatomy and technological wonders of capital-scale starships and now here Anon was, hurtling through the azure artery of hyperspace, with eleven wingmates in a formation of Imperial gunboats. He was a decent stick pilot, professionally qualified in fact. But a pilot sitting in his seat also needed to be decent with fixed hardpoint gunnery and schooled in the arts of the wolfpack and the dogfight. Anon simply was not. He got the impression that Command really preferred that he didn't go initiating a strike. They were probably right too, it's best to win first and then attack.

Green Squadron arrived on Day 36 after a long and uncomfortable trip. Anon was fairly desperate to climb out of his Star Wing but they had work to do and they busied themselves with the task at hand. The government Sysat network was undisturbed and sensor sweeps of Honoghr system space revealed nothing suspicious. They maintained a delta formation and proceeded to Planet Honoghr, assuming a stable orbit and then making a drop vector for (3, 0) to descend upon Zhuk'nir Starport. It was with very great enthusiasm that Anon was finally able to peel himself out of the cockpit of his gunboat and fill his lungs with fresh, wild Honoghr air. His legs were so stiff it felt to Anon as if they had forgotten how to walk. He would have liked to have told the squadron to flake out awhile and rest up from the journey, but they were there on business which simply wouldn't wait. They broke up into groups of three and fanned-out to survey the situation.

But Zhuk'nir Starport was quiet. Almost a little too quiet. While they roved through the streets, Anon watched as a Hapan Strike Cruiser descended and landed on the rooftop of a Mandalore barracks facility. He reported the landing directly, but the HRS Petbe was on official business and had been expected. Moving through the main concourse of the starport Anon identified and reported two pirates, a Noghri and a Gand. Up the north frontage road they encountered a number of neutral infantry serving a certain Banbl Besand, but they were not armed and appeared to be minding their own business. Star Wing overflights conducted focus scans of the secured facilities but they were empty. The slavers weren't here. He could ask no more of his pilots, they checked into a nice cozy barracks and grabbed a few precious hours of genuine sleep. As Honoghr slowly turned and darkness crept over the metropolis, Anon woke and dragged himself to the mess to shovel down some hot chow before suiting back up and lifting off. The local authorities had provided Anon with an Eddicus shuttle and he had left orders for Green Squadron to maintain a vigil over the city while he continued to sweep the planet. "Let them rest", he thought.

In Grand Dukha, Anon identified and reported nine pirates including two criminals, a Noghri and a Duros, who were wanted in several systems. Anon's blood warmed when he caught sight of the landed DP-20c Gunship "Echuta", but it was not the Hutts. The corvette, along with a nearby V-00 Rover, belonged to the Eidola Pirates. A squad of Noghri warriors employed by Varic Trandosh was detected, but they were also unarmed and not behaving suspiciously. Traffic logs in the public landing pad indicated that Xislaar Kandar had departed five days ago and a second landing pad was discovered to have been bought-out by the Eidolans. Anon logged the facility and marked it for a power cut just before lifting off and continuing his patrol.

At Zhuk'nir Mandalorian Garrisson a rebel training center was identified and scheduled for a power cut and as Anon continued to run his patrol pattern south, an unsecured training center was discovered which belonged to former Mand'alor Tyr DeMeer. Anon once again disguised himself as a refugee and was able to recruit six Noghri males to serve in his personal guards. The reaction to Anon's report was swift and the doors were quickly encoded. Satisfied, Anon decided to turn his attention to the mysterious caverns to the west. What secrets might they be hiding? He had drawn a speeder bike from the Noghri authorities in order to find out.

Howling across the desert, Anon gazed through the Eddicus' observation dome at a distant, lumbering shape which the sensor suite identified as an actual Great Krayt Dragon. It was too bad that Honoghr was so remote, all the way out on the rim. It would be an excellent hunting ground otherwise. The caverns were impressive, but also empty. No signs of recent traffic and no indication that civilization had ever intruded upon the stillness of this underworld. Anon turned back towards the Clean Land.

While surveying an undeveloped rebel city pad called Nystio, a local distress signal buzzed and clicked through the shuttle's communications panel. Reaching over to analyze the signal it was found to be using government encryption, so Anon dialed it in and ran it through. It was the local authorities, over five hundred Noghri recruits were expected in Zhuk'nir and they had not shown up. Anon immediately relayed the signal to the Fleet, which was still not due to arrive yet for many days. Tyr DeMeer, who maintained an impressive private villa on Honoghr, had been closely monitoring transmissions from the planet and broke silence to remind the Fleet that the Hapans had arrived to recruit infantry and the missing warriors were probably hired for offworld service to the Consortium. However, the Heavy Fleet commander Korlan Mereel informed the net that the Hapans had been awaiting the arrival of the recruits who went missing. What was happening on Honoghr? It was like a puzzle and Anon was still struggling to collect all the pieces.

Sweeping across the canopy of the jungle in the region called the "Clean Land" by the native Noghri, the tangle of twisted green thinned and then opened up into the eastern desert. That was where Anon encountered the compound at the shores of the great sea. As if hiding in plain view, just two grids south of Grand Dukha, Ghost Ville basked in political neutrality. But despite it's thin veneer of respectability, Anon stared directly at the slave market. There was no mistaking it. The entire compound was owned by Riax Tardes, former founder of D`Este Realty and associate of the Aurodium Legion. It was from his reputation that Ghost Ville borrowed it's veil of legitimacy and the market had been given the name "Labor Immigration Office" but Anon Drekk was not fooled. He knew a slave market when he saw one. The adjacent training center was named "Zeke the Wise Training Grounds". An artful deception.

So it wasn't the Hutts after all. It wasn't possible to tell what level of traffic the compound had recently hosted but it was not empty, Anon spotted a couple of Noghri grenadiers who were apparently standing guard over the training center. Landing his shuttle in the desert just beyond the city pad, Anon waited until darkness fell and then he approached on foot and found the facilities to be under tight lockdown with security patrols roving the grounds. Returning to the Eddicus, he placed the call and identified Ghost Ville as the prime military strike target. But the results of his previous focus scans indicated that the missing Noghri were not inside these slaver facilities, so the mystery of their fate was yet unsolved. Even so, Anon was sufficiently relieved to give himself a much deserved break. It was Day 39, Anon had been running his patrol pattern in the Eddicus for the last couple of days with only three hours of sleep. Stretching out on his rack, Anon permitted his eyes to close for a moment and he quickly drifted off while still wearing his armor. He was utterly exhausted.

As the sun rose above the sands, Anon woke and discovered that his desert Powersuit was beginning to become somewhat ripe. Brushing away the haze of slumber, he returned to the cockpit of the shuttle and lifted off to survey the city of Uno, the last remaining urban district in his sweep pattern. Anon was grateful to be operating in an Eddicus once again, beyond Serroco. He would never have been able to cope with the narrow compartment of his Star Wing this long. The Eddicus permitted Anon to move about the deck freely and stretch his limbs when he needed to, plus it's supercharged sensor banks and observation dome were indispensable to his specific task. He could easily imagine himself collecting these old diplomatic shuttles.

Uno was quiet and orderly, just as Anon had suspected that it would be. The only curiosity Anon encountered as he made a second overflight through the sprawling precincts of Zhuk'nir was the detection of a large Mandalore ship lifting off from the Mandalorian District. It was a Carrack/S-class Light Cruiser, the MSS Kotyc Kyramud registered to Al'verde Ven Ann. As a matter of instinct, Anon pinged the hull with his sensor suite and analyzed the results. Hundreds of passengers above the expected thousand standard crewmembers. What was this frigate doing all the way out here on the outer rim? It's IFF signature was definitely government, but it did not belong to the Heavy Fleet. Anon decided to include it in his situation report and without realizing it, he had collected the missing piece of the puzzle. The very next day, it was announced to the net by the Heavy Fleet commander that Al'verde Ann had conscripted the missing five hundred Noghris for government service. Still operating on the now obsolete Triad channels, she had not been aware of the arrival of the Hapans or the treaty which permitted them to land and recruit. It was simply a case of the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing. At last the mystery was solved.

Returning to Zhuk'nir Starport, Anon found Green Squadron rested and in good spirits. They had been monitoring his recon channels and upon the discovery of the slaver compound at Ghost Ville they cataloged a Recon Troop Transport which belonged to Riax Tardes parked inside the Starport. Anon had the pilots show him the vehicle and as they passed the main terminal, he paused the patrol to check the traffic logs. Just two days ago, Qard Sharq of the Aurodium Legion, former director of D`Este Realty, had lifted off in an A-Wing interceptor. So, the Aurodium Legion was pulling out.


Anon permitted himself to enjoy a little bit of rest, but the very next day he straddled his BARC speeder and throttled-up to begin sweeping the wilderness regions of the northern hemisphere for hidden cities. It was a pleasant change of pace. Just Anon and his speeder bike, roaring across the terrain in the daytime and pitching camp in the wastes at night. Anon caught sight of quite a few roaming beasts which he would have liked very much to have hunted and occasionally he even detected bandit encampments. But after three days of streaking through the wind, Anon's backside began to get saddle-sore. He had shifted his patrol into the undeveloped forests of the Clean Land and in the jungles east of Grand Dukha, Anon encountered a band of armed Dug hunters who served in the entourage of the Gran Doctor Drake McCloud. Unable to run his speeder bike over the great sea, Anon returned to the field headquarters he had set up at the Starport and promptly lifted off again in a government Delta shuttle to conduct his equatorial run. On day 48, the vanguard elements of the 1st Heavy Fleet began to exit hyperspace and assume stable orbit over Honoghr. The main force reported over the net that multiple vessels were being hailed by Orion Jenru of Veritas Press in the Veltraa Cruiser "Vanquish", inquiring about the availability of Noghri slaves for sale. By Day 51 Anon had finished his reconnaissance of the southern hemisphere. There were no hidden cities on Honoghr. He returned to the field headquarters to compile his recon data and stream it to the big capital ships which were now blockading the planet.

During a holopad debriefing, Anon was asked if he thought the Aurodium Legion was behind the illegal trafficking of Noghri. Anon carefully considered the situation and then replied "No, sir. I think that we are meant to believe that the Aurodium Legion is responsible. I think Ghost Ville is being used as a front by another individual or group of individuals who are responsible for the Honoghr crisis." Naturally, Anon was asked if he could deduce whom those individuals might be, based upon his reconnaissance of the ground. He did not hesitate, "I have encountered far too many known pirates, sir. Even for an outer rim world. I think Eidola is hiding their trafficking enterprises behind the Aurodium banner." Sol'yc Ver'alor Drekk was honorably excused and the very next day, when the recon data pack was released to the local authorities, the Noghri magistrate presented Anon with the Eddicus shuttle and BARC speeder he had operated with as tribute. Anon was overwhelmed and a small celebration was held aboard the Eddicus involving Green Squadron and thirty-six bottles of Oyu'baat ne'tra gal.

The Galactic News Service broadcast on Day 32 had stretched a few facts. The fighting which had taken place with the marauding slavers was conducted by local security forces with the support of only a very small garrison of government regulars. The approach of the Heavy Fleet was greatly exaggerated, so it had been explained to Anon, because the objective was for the slavers to leave. That's what would be best for everyone. The manner of their departure was irrelevant, just so long as they evacuated Honoghr long enough for the Fleet to lock them out of it for good. Once the new shield grid isolated the Noghri from these marauders, every aruetii remaining on the surface was to be arrested and deported offworld. Those who resisted would be given soldier's deaths.

Anon's new orders were sophisticated in their simplicity: appear where you are not expected. To a Pathfinder, that meant to continue on a patrol with no pattern, erratic and whimsical movements which cannot be anticipated. Licensed to wander, Anon loaded up his very own Eddicus shuttle at dawn and adopted the callsign Green 2/1. He intended to take full advantage of the privilege to halt for hunting or some reason or even no reason at all. The Eddicus was the perfect machine for the job too. Anon had to wonder how the scientists were getting along with his Togorian warriors back in Okyaab. He would be missing their rifles on the dunes of Honoghr.

But rifles weren't the objects of Anon's thought. Since the arrival of the main force, Anon's advanced recon element had expanded to include Star Wing Green Squadron, a Delta escort shuttle and three Juggernauts. But of all his available mounts, the Eddicus was the best suited to scouting. He had spent some of the rare private moments between sleep and duty researching the best Pathfinder ship in the galaxy and he had narrowed the selection down to the ATR-6, Horizon, Infiltrator, YT-510 and YT-1210. It wasn't long before Anon had a Devaronian merchant on line who had an interest in trading a restored Horizon yacht for his Imperial sniper rifle, straight across. Anon took the deal and disappeared with official Liberty to Eberon. The Horizon had been his personal choice, mainly because of the hangar bay but also because there just didn't seem to be much that this remarkable Hutt design couldn't do. He named it the Nightsong, his Eddicus became Nightsong 01 and his speeder bike became Nightsong 02. On his way back down the Kessel Run, Anon flew with the company of his Togorians to entertain him. Not as an officer nor as a chief, but as the skipper.

While the Engineers went to work laying the foundations for the planetary shield, Anon continued to roam the surface of Honoghr, occasionally deploying to engage bandit gangs and hunt some of the fantastic beasts which roamed the wastelands. He even managed to track down the Krayt Dragon he had spotted in the desert and his team of Togorian guards felled the colossus after a four-hour running gunfight. But on Day 76, as Anon floated the Nightsong across the jungle canopy searching for undetected activity, his Horizon lost power and he was forced to make an emergency landing. The motivator linkages to the repulsor drive had both been replaced with an improvised patchwork, one of which had finally failed. Anon muttered to himself bitterly, "Oh yeah. Great trade, I said. A rifle for a freighter, sale of the century I said." His aliit'verda continued to work on the broken linkage while Anon ran back to Zhuk'nir on his BARC speeder. The shield project was progressing at top speed and the local supply of Quantum was becoming an issue, so Anon had received orders to take a pair of Bulk Freighters to Suurja Moon and load up before the Engineers ran out. While in Ojoster, Anon had a stroke of luck and met a Givin mechanic on the loading docks who had the scrap Horizon motivator linkages he needed, but the price left a bad taste in Anon's mouth. The mechanic wasn't very sympathetic, "Restoring rare ships is not a poor man's hobby, sir."

On the way back down the Kessel Run at the helm of the massive Taskforce Cruiser MSS Tarnith, Anon received an encoded message from former Mand'alor DeMeer. He ran it through the encryption module but had to adjust the settings, the message was highly classified and used a more complex code than regular military dispatches. He was being diverted to Marca, after delivering the Quantum to Honoghr orbit. His task was to quietly search the urban zones and report back anything which he found to be out of the ordinary. Out of the ordinary? Anon had always been under the impression that Pathfinders were sent out to look for specific things, but in this case he was asked to look for anything "strange". He had plenty of time to ponder the mission, it was a long flight back to Honoghr.

Back on the ground, the team got the repulsordrive back on line and Anon lifted off. It turned out that Marca was being colonized by an expedition of Nimbanel, although nobody was entirely sure what had caused them to leave Nimban in such numbers. Anon had not been told what he was looking for, because Tyr DeMeer wanted his scout to be open minded and not previously disposed to look for certain things. "When a Pathfinder operates," DeMeer told him "it is important that he does not miss the crystal snake while looking for the rancor." There was much that Anon could learn from such a Mando.

The Nightsong was streaking back to Kessel by Day 119. The replacement motivator linkages had permanently solved the problem and his team could find no other similar patchwork solutions anywhere in the ship's systems. The particle chargers on the ion engines were getting older and losing strength, but could easily be replaced from just about any parts shop. The carbon filters on the life support unit were also getting dirty but were commonly available. It was a factory Horizon again, stem to stern and Anon was not shy about pushing and stressing the ship to make certain that she was solid.

When they landed in Grand Dukha, Anon found and installed the parts he needed to make the Nightsong run at top efficiency. He even bought new compression coils, even though the old ones were fine. While he was busy working on the ship and his team patrolled the block, the ship was hailed from someone outside. Stepping out and grabbing a towel to wipe his hands, Anon returned the hail and a Chiss approached and identified himself as a reporter for the Mandalore Information Department. Anon granted him a brief interview, along with a few smart remarks from the returning Togorians and after the journalist and his Cam Droid were gone they spent the rest of the evening relaxing. Early the next morning, they were loading up their equipment and lifting off again, pointed at the jungles to the east. Anon's patrols were certainly erratic.


The Togorian guards were frozen in place, every glimmer of their being precisely focused upon total awareness of the fleeting moment. They were most excellent hunting cats, naturally evolved to excel at stalking and killing. They were fearless and calculating, with sharp eyes and true aim. Anon felt a wave of pride at the sight of his V'r'caah clansmen lined up at his side, behind their weapons and listening. They heard the growl first, then the patter of it's paws. A branch broke. It was moving in fast.

Jett Miran fired first, off to Anon's right flank. Then Zeth Monrider and Levi Revan, right beside him on line. Then he saw it and his A280 lit up and jumped into his shoulder. The rest of the team lit up and in a swirl of dust and smoke the Vornskr collapsed into a jumbled pile of bone and hide.

There was a long moment of silence, then Anon called out "Report!" Kaul Sutherland called back "Clear right!" from the far end of the line and on the opposite end Ganrax Menaraev answered "Clear left!" Anon relaxed and passed the order "Recover!"

They had spotted two of them. Nesting Vornskrs, very dangerous. They had felled the first one near it's nest, that's when the second one moved in to attack. This beast had been hit too hard, there was nothing left to salvage. But they had to press forward to check the nest and the other beast which lay there. Picking their way through the twisted vines, they slowly worked their way towards the carcass. The team formed a circle around it. There was nothing left of this one either and so they began the Ceremony of Passing, to honor the spirits of the felled beasts. Stepping up to the rim of the nest, Anon peered inside and was awestruck. Something moved. A young Vornskr pup. He shouldered his blaster and reached down to pick it up. It was so tender and helpless. He nestled it in his chest and the cub began to cry. Turning round and stepping out of the nest, Anon found that his aliit'verda had gathered silently around. They all looked to him and bowed deeply. He was now the master of a war beast. He could now call himself Vheh'adalor! The Tsad be Ruug'la would make him a Steward for this. All Anon could think to say was "What day is it?" Ganrax answered back "Year 17 Day 123, sir." The Togorians cheered! Ah, where was he going to get that much Oyu'baat all the way out here on the rim on such short notice?

He just got the Nightsong all sorted out and already it now had a puppy. He named her Shadow. As a responsible beastmaster, Anon lifted off right away and searched the computer for the closest public facility where he could have Shadow medically examined and where he might run some learning programs about Vornskr husbandry. The Nightsong's computer only spoke Huttese, but Anon had no problem finding out that the closest facility was in Hutt space, in the Nimbanel city of Nelvaan. "What is it with Nimbanels?" he muttered to himself and when Zeth ducked back into the cockpit and asked "What was that, Skipper?" Anon had to just tell him "Nevermind". It was still classified. Shadow turned out to be a perfectly healthy female and at the perfect age to imprint and domesticate. But they didn't have a learning program, he had to take an actual class.


By Day 132 Anon had completed a series of field tests, using his occasional patrol halts to conduct official trials to evaluate the performance of the Valken carbine. He had also used these trials to test the Nightsong and to practice deploying the Eddicus at speed. Anon was deeply pleased, but he was going to need an astrodroid to assist in the cockpit if he wanted to get the timing of his shuttle launch just right. With the closure of the Valken trials, Anon received his next assignment. The military engineers were almost finished with the new Honoghr defense grid, but they needed a couple more officers directing ground crews to close the gap ahead of the deadline. Anon directed full construction crews on five different pads across the southern hemisphere, but it wasn't going to be possible to make the publicly announced mark. According to Anon's best estimates, the soonest the shield grid could be activated was going to be Day 166, fifteen days after the militarization date.

Despite the disappointing news, Anon was informed that he was being promoted to the rank of Alor'ad and was also being decorated with his second Logistics Award and third Letter of Commendation. Furthermore, the V'r'caah now recognized Steward Drekk and his father Venari had offered Anon the chair of Clan Voice.

It was Day 145 when Anon met his aliit'vod Nenya Plaure, whom he often fondly refers to as "Little Sister". He was lifting off to pick up his order of toolkits and RX-series astromechs just as Nenya was arriving to begin her training in the V'r'caah hunting arts. Anon had made his team swap their service A280s for DLT-20a blasters and accompany Nenya on her hunts as mentors. He continued to communicate with her on a daily basis while in hyperspace: giving her advice, pointing out her missteps, explaining the meaning of the old V'r'caah lore and how it applied to the craft of the hunter, reminding her to watch the team and do as they did. Nenya was devastated when she lost her first warrior. She had driven herself until she had grown tired and careless. On the frozen plains, she had not measured her prey against her distance and Nenya ended up with a wounded Wampa crashing through her line, killing Brand Knesos. Nenya Plaure had managed to pass her three moons in just twelve days. During her baptism, Mand'alor Andrew Panzer of Clan D'ael'mor formally announced his abdication of the mask to Korlan Mereel of Clan Du'trachek, the new Warrior Eminence.

On Day 162, as Anon made his landing approach at Zhuk'nir Starport, the new Mand'alor announced that the shield generators were complete and had been successfully linked to the computer control center. The surface of Planet Honoghr was now militarized and all non-Mandalorians were to be placed under immediate arrest pending deportation. Anon, Mand'alor Korlan Mereel and the Fleet executive Al'verde Neres Warjan swept through the cities and the countryside like a storm. Eighty-six persons were swiftly rounded up and shuttled into orbiting dungeon ships in just five days. Resistance was scattered and light. By Day 175 most of the construction crews were evacuated from the ground and the planetary shield was up and running at full strength. Operation Rough Hunt was closed and the officers of the Heavy Fleet busied themselves packing the docking bays and starting the long journey back home again, to Mandalore. Anon had decided what he would do if he ever faced a Hutt. He would switch to Huttese.

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Space

It was Year 18, Day 170, 13:23. Painted in the cool radiance of classic Sabaoth blue, Anon sat anxiously poised with his hand on the hyperdrive switch. His eyes flicked back and forth between the billowing channel of hyperspace and the timer which was quickly diving into zero. Anon burned with anticipation. Here it comes.

His voice rasped a bit, betraying his stress level to the net, "Mark!"

He stomped hard on the drive clutch and cranked down on the switch, releasing the pedal exactly as the zeroes lined up. The sharp bump and bright flash of light told Anon that he had been too rough on the controls again. He needed to calm himself and he knew it. Anon suddenly found himself darting through an asteroid field with his proximity alarms gently pulsing. He was in luck, his path was more or less clear of dangerous collisions, although Anon could hear the faint sizzle of small debris being vaporized by the deflectors. It may have been a rough exit, but it was right on target. A slight course correction to avoid a distant rock and Anon was safe enough to sit up in his seat and crank his head around to look for his formation.

"Leathernecks, report." One by one, the voices of his pilots crackled through the subspace radio. Red Flight... then Gold Flight... and finally Blue Flight sounded-off. They were all synchronized, everyone had made it. The Defender gunboats worked their way into a wide "Finger-Four" formation while Anon patched into the new experimental sensor grid.

There they were, just like Fleet said they would be. It still took the targeting computer a couple of seconds to pick out all the contacts. They were idling at low power inside of a thick band of debris. Nine... fifteen... twenty-one. Twenty-one bogeys at eleven o'clock, split into two groups, sensor-range apart.


Bandits have long infested the galaxy. In the wilderness regions of every tolerable planet one was certain to discover the armed encampments of individuals who, each for their own private reasons, did not wish to be found. They would band together for safety and survive by raiding, scavenging and engaging in any sort of profitable crime. Black markets abundantly flowed with the spoils of their plundering and not even the space lanes were safe from their marauding anymore. It had always been believed that these outlaw starfighter squadrons operated from the ground. Since most small-time gangsters tended to lose possession of corvettes and frigates as soon as they enlisted bandit crews, it was a logical assumption that outlaw carriers simply did not exist. But no raider encampment had ever been found which showed any evidence of hosting or even being visited by spacecraft.

The discovery of the Wild Wreckers and Dark Angels gangs hiding-out inside of the asteroid field, just three grids at three-hundred and fifteen degrees from the Okyaab System, had proved to be the key to solving the riddle of the space bandits. Obscured by the enormous cloud of massive rocky objects, the bandits had remained undetected by local security flights.

Al'verde Neres Warjan was the first to challenge and clash with these gangs. After a series of anatomical surveys conducted by MandalMining, it was discovered that each spacial grid within the observed deepspace fields featured at least one asteroid which dominated the rest. Objects in space have gravity and the largest objects would typically clear the space around them of smaller rocks by pulling them in and pulverizing them. Over time, these "alpha" asteroids would stabilize their own positions within the field and stop wildly tumbling like the smaller rogue stones.

Building upon this discovery, MandalMotors engineers quickly went to the drafting room. Stripping the operational components out of a Sysat T-24, they repackaged the sensor banks into a specially designed hull which could be firmly anchored to the surface of the larger asteroids. Painted camouflage and presenting a low silhouette, the modified Sysats would be virtually undetectable. But with the high concentration of metal-rich debris within the deepspace fields, even the powerful T-24 array would not be able to reach very far and so it would still be necessary to install a large number of these nodes in order to gain complete sensor coverage over an entire asteroid field.

Once the first Okyaab field had been cleared of all hostile ships and wreckage by former Mand'alor Andrew Panzer and Alor'aan Daniel Skifighter, Anon had moved in with the Nightsong and slowly built the hidden sensor network which he now coupled to his gunboat's computer.


Twenty minutes, if they were able to maintain their current bearing. That would bring them to the edge of a clear spot in the debris field, which would present them with a relatively unobstructed firing solution over both of the idle raider squadrons. They had a Starchaser, four Headhunters and a whole mess of patchwork "Uglies" over there... three of them X-ceptors, rather dangero-"Keepuna!"

Anon shouted as he kicked the stick away from a speeder-sized rogue which had quite suddenly wobbled into his flight path. Leatherneck Eleven came slithering across the radio, "Getting tight in here" and Leatherneck Six glimmered back "I do not copy Leatherneck One". Anon had forgotten that his comms were voice activated. He scolded himself and spoke out "Disregard, Six." That was a close one.

Anon changed his subspace control then triggered the radio. "Gold and Blue Flights, let's spread it out a little. Make sure there's plenty of room if you need to move." The voices of his flight leaders shimmered through the field distortion, "Wilco." Heart pounding, Anon took a deep breath. He was streaking through an asteroid field at almost fifty megalight and heading directly into a mortal fight.


After Honoghr, Anon had done what he could to prepare himself for this very sort of situation. Between duty assignments he had gone back to Okyaab 3 and taken the Basic Combat Maneuvering course at the Academy. It was the first of three phases of training which would professionally qualify Anon with starfighter gunnery. He still had two more phases left to go. He really wasn't ready for this yet.

At the Academy they had trained in the classic Y-Wing, so Anon had become familiar with the compartment layout and control configurations of this iconic fighter along with the basic use of fixed-mount heavy lasers, ion cannons and proton torpedoes. Anon was somewhat relieved when his first combat assignment as a starfighter element was to a squadron of Y-Wings. Everybody had already been checked-out on the BTL-S3, they were all good to go. Anon had counted it as a stroke of luck. But as part of the Meridian Expedition to Tynna Sector, Anon was still constantly haunted by the knowledge that he would be playing out of his own league, should he get drawn into a space battle. He was relying upon his skills with the yoke and the talent of his wingmates to pull him through.

But as it turned out, he spent the entire expedition in hyperspace. On Day 151, Daka Ishi of MandalMining reported contact with a besieged Meridian cruiser, but at such a distant location that it had taken Anon sixteen hours of hyperflight after a turbulent lane ejection to arrive. He exited with a great deal of anxiety to a battle which had already been over for three hours.

But there was no escaping it this time. As if to make matters even worse, they were all flying in an unfamiliar craft. Of course, Fleet had gotten them all checked-out on the Wraith gunboats prior to deployment. They knew where all the levers and switches were, what all the lights meant and where to find the right pedals. But it's hard to describe what it feels like to fly a completely strange hull-shape than what you're accustomed to, to try and visualize the ship around you in relation to the other objects in the sky. This was necessary if the craft was ever to be docked, or flown in close formation or around obstacles. Climbing into an alien cockpit was something like wearing someone else's legs.

The Y-Wings felt like sitting at the head of a narrow rectangle. The Alpha Star Wings were smaller and felt more like sitting closer to the center of a rectangle with a wide wingspan. The Y-Wings were faster, but the Star Wings were more maneuverable. The Defender on the other hand, was completely different. It felt like sitting at the center of a crescent-shaped flying blade. Extraordinary flight envelope, but it took quite a bit of getting used to. The Wraith gunboat could pace a Y-Wing, turning or burning, and it was just a little bit smaller too. But it was armed with concussion missiles. The only thing Anon knew about those was that he would learn about them in the Advanced Gunnery class, once there was an opening available to be filled by alumni.

Fleet suspected that the asteroid field was regularly being used by gangsters as a waypoint station, to rest before raiding further into the core or withdrawing out towards the rim. The concealed sensor grid confirmed their suspicions and Anon received the order directly from Mand'alor Korlan Mereel. He was to report to Concordia immediately and get suited-up for briefing. The mission was "seek and destroy", they each got an hour of in-flight orientation before forming up and making the jump.


Anon stopped weaving as he realized that the asteroids had thinned and then vanished from around him. His proximity alarms had dimmed and were flashing more slowly. Anon twisted his neck to make a spot-check and confirm that his wingmates were in the right positions before feathering his trim and falling back into the defensive slot. This was it.

The biggest ship the outlaws could muster was a Pursuer Enforcement Ship, much tougher than anything else in the field, including the Defenders. It was just ahead and to their right with a Headhunter and seven other "Uglies". Anon lit the radio lamp, "Oya! Pursuer, two o'clock low!"

Gold and Blue Flight leaders answered back instantly "OYA!" and Leatherneck Squadron ramped up to assault speed as the raiders became aware that they were under attack. Frantically powering up, the bandits strained their engines trying to scatter but Anon's formation was already upon them. The asteroid field, previously a stark realm of feeble light and deep shadows, became a wonderland of bright, flashing colors. Green and red bolts stabbed at the vacuum around Anon's gunboat as he cut back and forth, directing his own angry blue arrows at his fleeing prey. A bandit patchwork fighter exploded, then another lost an engine and swerved violently into the side of a whirling stone, collapsing in a white flash and a spray of wreckage which Anon had to make a sharp cut to avoid.

That was it, the gun pass was already over. Anon kicked into a displacement roll, hoping to keep on the pursuit and get a better firing solution on the next run. The stars reeled and Anon felt his guts being pulled down into his lap but as he stabilized and looked around, he discovered that he was about to be sandwiched. His eyes darted to his scope. There was his wingman, shielding his right. He banked left and struggled to fill his gunsights with the Y-TIE which was swiftly bearing down on him. As he blasted away with his lasers, the targeting computer planted a circle around the outlaw fighter and began beeping. Then the reticle began to flash and the beeping turning into a solid tone. Oh! Missiles! He launched as the Y-TIE began pitching sinister red shafts which darted all around his Defender. Jinking and sliding to avoid the fire, Anon watched as one of his missiles punched a hole in the nose of the enemy tartan and split the hull wide open in a shower of white-hot ruin. Anon kept his pursuit curve until he linked back up with his wingman, then they banked together and after another gut-wrenching displacement roll, they rejoined the rest of Red Flight.

Blue and Gold Flights had the Pursuer and it's Y-TIE escort in a rolling scissor and Anon went after the Headhunter which was splitting off and struggling to escape with severe battle damage. Limping along with one of it's engines trailing a cloud of soot, the Headhunter was an easy target and was clipped by one of Anon's laser bursts. The right wing folded and then broke off completely, sending the fuselage tumbling through space and into the rocks. Anon sternly reminded himself not to celebrate. Banking around, Red flight began a flat scissor maneuver out of phase with the rest of the Leathernecks.

They spun together in a circus of death which slipped and skidded around the barren asteroids. Lasers flashed and missiles swirled and burst as they persistently stalked the outlaw Pursuer, whose deflectors had finally collapsed. Anon's next pass was absolutely ideal, from the approach vector to the line of sight. He stuck to his guns and clearly saw his blasts rip into the giant gunboat's port stabilizer while his missiles hammered and rippled the hull. But just then, a rapidly pulsing beacon on the console attracted his eye. Proximity. Anon glanced up and sharply pitched his Defender downward by sheer reflex to avoid crashing into his wingmate's starboard mandible. He had held his attack angle too long and strayed into his own formation. Anon cursed himself for making such an idiotic mistake. It was all happening so fast!

They almost overshot the following pass, but the reduced speed of the crippled raiders made easy targets for the spinning Wraith gunboats and despite the taboos against it, Leatherneck Two cheered over the radio as his concussion missile pierced the Pursuer's entry hatch and the ship erupted into a giant orange sunburst. The escorting Y-TIE tumbled into the side of a monumental asteroid only a few moments later and burst with a dull blue flash and a dramatic splash of stardust. That was it, the Wild Wreckers were scrap.


Anon was becoming deeply impressed with Wraith technology. The oldest mercenary company in the galaxy, if there was one thing that the Wraiths had truly mastered over the decades it was starship design. They could easily have become a legitimate civilian shipyard and grown to dominate the galactic market a long time ago, possibly even have become their own government, but they preferred the life of the warrior. You just had to respect that.

A delicate balance of aesthetics and performance, the Sabaoth line was one of the most esteemed products among the stars and Anon had begun to understand why. He had been assigned his first Wraith ship when the Trade Federation had invited a Mandalore delegation to attend the Federation Day celebrations on Taanab. Anon had been chosen to accompany the Mand'alor as part of the ceremonial Honor Guard. The traditional Imperator Star Destroyers would have been too slow and couldn't have landed in the capital city of Forsetti. As an alternative, Anon was assigned a Sabaoth Destroyer which had only recently been launched and he was even given the solemn honor of naming the frigate. It was registered the "M.S.S. Darkstar" and it continued to be Anon's personal favorite operations platform.

His available flotilla still included the Tea House, constantly on standby and prepared to deploy for long-range action at all times. His largest regular assignment to date was the Strike cruiser M.S.S. Fresh Shot, which was assigned to Anon when he became appointed as the new Heavy Fleet infantry Quartermaster. The Fresh Shot was allocated for the lodging of Mandalore's most experienced veteran infantry and also to serve as the Fleet mobile arsenal and supply depot. For this reason, Anon usually made the Strike his personal flagship on major military operations, but he still favored the Darkstar for combat drops which didn't involve the main force. It just had a certain elegant spirit which Anon had come to admire very much. The gunboat gave Anon the same feeling of luxury. It was a thoughtfully crafted supremacy fighter.


Reforming into a lag pursuit to conserve energy, Anon aimed his mandibles at the engines of the fleeing Dark Angels gang. He piped into the radio "Leathernecks, report" as the deflectors began to fry with dust once again. Leatherneck Eight was down to forty-seven percent deflector strength, the rest were good. They slowly came back together into the extended Finger-Four and continued ducking and weaving at very great speed through the maze of floating monoliths. The outlaw starfighters swerved back and forth, spending all their energy trying to shake the Leathernecks and all the while, they continually lost separation. In a sudden and bold maneuver, the bandits broke and then each twisted around into a barrel-roll attack, but they had taxed their reactors pulling it off and the Leathernecks were already in a high-side guns pass which painted the field brilliant blue.

A Y-TIE exploded, then a TIE-Wing flew apart and then another... Leatherneck Eight shrieked into the subspace channel "Haar'chak!" as the combatants shot past one another and stressed their dampers to make the sharpest turn. Anon was breathless. He lit his radio lamp and called out "That guy was a Rodian!! Eight, what's wrong?" and a moment later he heard the shaken voice of his pilot "They keep hitting me out here on the end! Shields down to eighteen percent!" Leatherneck Twelve chimed in "I'm down to forty-four." Anon stabilized and cranked his head around searching for his firing solution, "Everybody stay frosty!"

There were two X-ceptors, a Starchaser and three Headhunters still in the fight. Leatherneck Six broke channel and exclaimed "You see that? I got three of them! I got three!" but his Flight Leader cut-in "We're not home, Six!"

At that moment the asteroids began to light-up with green and red bolts of hatred. Anon jinked back and forth to make a less cooperative target of himself as he wrestled to place the lead X-ceptor in his scope ring. They managed to dodge one another artfully, although Anon had seen one of his lasers clip the portside panel just before they overshot. Leatherneck Eight shrieked into the radio again and Twelve was cursing. Anon's head wobbled awkwardly on his shoulders as he pulled another high-energy displacement roll and had to suddenly cut to avoid another tumbling rogue. "E-chu-ta!" As the heavens spun outside his canopy, the console was briefly lit by a soft orange glow from the exploding Starchaser and for a moment, Anon was mesmerized. Pulling out and feathering his engines, he swept past the whirling wreckage of a Headhunter which was obscured by a grainy cloud of asteroid debris. The lead X-ceptor was the only outlaw left and he was on the run with his shields down, one-hundred and twenty-five degrees with Gold Flight in a rolling scissor behind. Anon watched as Leatherneck Five hit him with a burst of heavy lasers, splintering the patchwork fuselage and causing it to burst into a shower of torn metal.

That was it. It was over and Anon was still alive. In fact, he had even scored his first two starfighter kills. Anon quickly scanned his gunboat's status... his deflectors were at full strength. He hadn't even been struck! Switching back to voice, he called out "Squadron report!" and the voices of his pilots sparkled with field distortion as they sounded-off, one by one. Leatherneck Eight had been hit the hardest and was down to just fourteen percent shields, and Twelve had taken some punishment on the final pass as well, reducing his deflectors to thirty-four percent strength. But everybody was there and none of their gunboats were actually hull-damaged.

"Roger," Anon answered as he gently banked right and headed for the edge of the asteroid cluster. "Leatherneck One, I send one-hundred and one-hundred. Turn to forty-five degrees and plot a course for one five eight mark two one six." The Flight leaders gladly replied "Wilco", they were all going home together in victory. Anon switched his comms off and took a deep, nervous breath. He looked around the cockpit and blinked his eyes, finally permitting himself to sit back and let one hand loose from the stick. His hands were shaking. That had all happened very fast. He hadn't really had the time to think about what was taking place around him during the dogfight, but now he did. Behind them, the Leathernecks left the asteroid bands smudged with dust and littered with twisted fragments of twirling wreckage. Anon smirked after he realized, once he activated the Darkstar and finished seeding the second Okyaab asteroid field, he would probably have to set a course back to this very place and tractor all the salvage off the field. Fleet wasn't ready to warn these bandits just yet.


When a Mandalorian achieves a significant martial "first", it is typically followed by a small celebration involving the witnesses afterward. Nenya and Venari joined the Leathernecks in the master cabin of the Hammerhead Cruiser PFR Luu'na and enjoyed Oyu'baat's finest varos tihaar while they swapped stories and toasted one another's exploits. Anon was thrilled to see "Little Sister" was still carrying the heavy helmet that he had given her. She had grown to become a shrewd huntress and a credit to the V'r'caah, serving alongside Anon as an officer of the Heavy Fleet. He was especially excited to see his father Venari again. So was Shadow. Anon didn't hear from his father as often as he used to. Ever since Venari had been appointed as Director of MandalTech, his schedule had become rather hectic. Shadow still refused to relax in Venari's presence, but at least she didn't go crazy anymore. His father's boma beast Erb would never have anything to do with Anon either. He just smelled too different.

Anon had named the Hammerhead after the legendary founder of Clan V'r'caah, Luu'na C'hki. The Hammerhead-class frigate was one of the oldest, longest serving ships-of-the-line in the history of the galaxy. The demand from historians, military collectors and even smaller security firms for these immortal relics was so great that many of the prominent commercial shipyards began building brand-new military reproductions. The Luu'na was an exact duplicate of the later series of cruisers in terms of design, materials and fabrication. It had cost Anon twenty-seven million, but it was paid for outright.

He hadn't been saving his credits. Anon had been tracking an Acklay on Okyaab 3 when he encountered a group of Ithorian poachers and attacked. He confiscated a lightsaber hilt from one of the bandit's kits and he offered it to Venari, but his father simply gleamed that toothy grin of his and closed the connection. Venari had no interest in the hilt's fate, so Anon sold it to a well regarded middle through the Trade Federation marketplace and as a result, had what he considered to be a small fortune on his hands.

Space had started becoming a bit of an issue aboard the Nightsong. The crates of collected armor, weapons and equipment were spilling out of the armory and gear locker, cluttering up the cargo bay and cabins. Anon had installed a safe in the master cabin and a couple racks of vertical lockers on the main deck, even brought in an anti-gravity sled but all of these were quickly filled up. Even his shuttle Nightsong 01 was packed full of random gear. The only solution was to upgrade his mobile home from light freighter to frigate scale.

Anon paid his credits in full and then pulled together his most experienced capital deckhands. They unloaded the Nightsong and then filled it back up again with brand-new astrodroids, still in their crates, and set a course to take possession of Anon's new Hammerhead at it's mooring in Glom Tho. With a skeleton crew of just twenty-two hands supported by thirty-eight droids, the Luu'na cruised away from the yard and jumped into hyperspace just two days before a Zann insurrection spread chaos throughout the entire system.

Shadow loved her new home. She was almost fully grown now and as much as she had always loved riding on the back of Anon's speeder bike, she could hardly squeeze herself onto the saddle anymore. There wasn't even enough room for Shadow to play aboard Anon's YT-2000 "Further". Anon could tell that she only just tolerated the decks of the Nightsong and the Darkstar. But she was happiest whenever they boarded the Fresh Shot or the Luu'na. She had enough space to really wander and run around, but what really puzzled Anon was that she was also rather fond of the Eddicus shuttles. It didn't matter which one, Shadow was always happy to jump aboard one of the speeders. Perhaps because she knew, Anon reasoned, that they usually went to the ground where she could really cut loose.

Recent

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Over time, Anon eventually moved out of the Luu'na and made it into a communal property of Clan V'r'caah, which he parked in Okyaab system space close to the Academy. Having acquired a fully restored Crusader corvette, Anon made the "Right Stuff" his new personal ship. It was extremely expensive and cleaned out all of Anon's savings. But it immediately became his most prized possession, a living piece of legendary supercommando technology. Shadow never had to whine about the minimalist deck of the Mandalorian corvette. She and Anon spent most of their time on his newly assigned Battle Group carrier, the I-class "Boundary Destroyer". It was a massive and tremendously powerful ship. While it's movement was ponderously slow through space and down hyper lanes, there really wasn't any need to escape from any threats. The Imperator Star Destroyer dominated everything around it.

Once Anon had managed to attend the Advanced Gunnery class, he became devoted to the idea of graduating from the prestigious Starfighter Combat School. But now that he was operating in such an enormous ship, it started making a lot more sense for Anon to complete the one missing pilot qualification in his profile: capital ships. The Capital program was a lot easier to access, since everyone was trying to get into starfighters, admission to the helm school was much less competitive. Anon liked to fly, but he went into the program fearing that he would become bored. It was anything but relaxing and Anon once again gained an entirely new appreciation for the symphony that is an effective bridge crew. He also grew a new level of appreciation for gravity and how it can be harnessed to swing a massive object around in space.

Mandalore continued to transform after Anon became a qualified naval pilot, eventually becoming a corporate mercenary empire in order to retire the old bureaucracy of government for more direct administrative policies. Essentially evolving into a streamlined paramilitary unit, it was much easier for Anon to outfit his infantry and arrange better ship and vehicle assignments. Mandalore's first contractor was the Twilight Foundation, although a few Mandalore officers were actually recruited by the rival GenSci Institute. Within the ranks of Mandalore it created a sort of friendly rivalry and Anon pressed into his assigned patrol zone on Togoria with great zest. The missing Twilight droids had wandered into the grassland hunting preserve which Anon had established to support his appetite for the hunt and so just by a stroke of luck, he was able to locate them almost immediately upon his arrival. Unfortunately, GenSci agents showed up in much larger numbers. They methodically disabled every Twilight droid, one at a time and Anon was powerless to prevent it, but he was able to recover two of the ionized droids and destroyed the rest to prevent them from falling into GenSci hands. The GenSci operatives, who turned out to be an expedition from the New Republic, were furious. Anon tended to rub people the wrong way sometimes, especially in battle.

On another occasion Anon had seen articles coming from Serroco in which he was able to view military casualty reports from a skirmish the Death Watch was having against the Tresario Star Kingdom. He stared at the figures in disbelief, hundreds of Mandalorians had died wrecking only a few companies of droids. It made no sense, Anon knew droids to be convenient support equipment but certainly not actual warriors. Droids were terrible fighters, how could this be? While rival Clans tarnished themselves celebrating the retreat of the Death Watch, Anon went with just his personal guards to investigate. He landed the Nightsong on the familiar rooftops of Serroco City and immediately located a Tresarian standing down by the highrise taking potshots at some distant target with an X-45 sniper rifle. Anon took a position out in the open, on the street in the shade of the big skyscrapers and laid down volleys of direct fire which seriously wounded the lone gunner. It just so happened that Anon's target was Kevin Wolff, a Fleet Admiral of the Star Kingdom and the reaction to Anon's probe was swift and fierce. Anon counted over a hundred guns lighting-up his position, cheap droid blasters mostly. But Wolff returned from his AT-AT with a sniper team of his own and somewhere another Tresarian was shooting at him with ELGs, Anon recognized the blaster bolts. They took cover and weathered a tremendous amount of fire before withdrawing into the Eddicus and making a swift disappearance. Anon had found out what happened to the Death Watch and he had even managed to bring all of his cats back to the Nightsong with him. They still laugh about that day, but the Star Kingdom was livid and Anon even heard about it through his Commanding Officer.

Anon was placed in command of the Heavy Fleet's Green Group, which included the I-class carrier and a full complement of infantry platoons, support droids, utility shuttles, a dropship full of tanks and speeders, squadrons of fighter gunships... everything he could possibly need to wage war against any foe, on any front. Shadow enjoyed the Boundary Destroyer as much as she loved going planetside and she didn't have to roam alone anymore. Anon's frequent hunting had provided Shadow with new playmates: the Howlrunner "Storm", the Katarn "Spike" and the Wampa cub "Snowman". They would occasionally make a disturbance as they ran through the corridors, chasing after one another and alarming the deck crews. Most of the Chiefs were friendly towards Shadow and Spike, but for some reason Storm and Snowman just made people nervous. But nobody ever got hurt and it was the Group Commander's privilege to have them aboard, so the Skipper agreed to cope with the hair, puddles, droppings and seasonal funk on the condition that the war beasts be restricted to the main deck, away from the hangar, docks, sick bay and the bridge.

In addition to Anon's expanding kennel, he also upgraded his personal equipment kit. Anon commissioned the fabrication of a custom Cabur-type suit of Heavy Battle Armour, which was designed to resemble the unique style favored by his own Togorian guards. The new armor was also luxuriously expensive, but it was carefully tailored to fit him properly and provided the best available protection in the galaxy. Anon also confiscated his second Nightstinger and decided that he missed his old one enough to keep the new one, affectionately naming it "Vera". It remains his very favorite gun.

Anon currently serves in the Mandalore military as Heavy Fleet S4 (Supply and Logistics) and Green Group Commander. He ranks Lieutenant Colonel of Mandalore and Warden of Clan V'r'caah.

Portrait: [O-4] A. Drekk 001392 - Heavy Fleet S4 (Y18)

Awards

Mandalore Operation Resol'nare SerrocoMandalore Army Betterment AwardMandalore Unit Distinguished Service AwardMandalore Fourth Letter of CommendationMandalore Third Logistic AwardMandalore Two-Year Duty BarMandalore Veteran Award

Mandalore Silver StarMandalore Bronze Star