Mars did everything possible to catch his breath. The swarm of bugs had been beaten off but only barely. The Brigade's casualties had been horrible. They were down to two short companies. The outer earth works were over taken by bug formations and most of deaths had taken place there. The most devastating had been the loss of the heavy machine repeater section. They had been the Brigades staple.

How much more of this can we take?

Three weeks earlier

"Mars, not reinforcements are going to come. We are on our own."

Mars' superior passed him the bottle of brandy. Mars took a big swig. It burned as it went down his throat.

"We shouldn't even frelling be here."

Mars threw the empty bottle to the ground.

"Planets in the our sphere of influence call for help the Commonwealth answers their call. Understand?" God damn Mars. I don't want to be just as bad as you do but it is our duty. We scatter and hide, these people die?"

"They are going to die eventually; why delay it?"

"Because we still can. Clear?"

"Crystal, sir."

Mars left the tent at that.

His Brigade had been rotated out of the line for a four days. They had been in the field for two months straight with less than two days in a warm barracks.

Mars laid down in his bunk.

I am going to die.

Mars reached in his holster and pulled out his side arm. He put it his head.

Why delay it?

His words to his superior bounced around his head. Mars pulled the trigger.

Click

Stunned by not meeting oblivion, Mars' partially drunk mind tried to figure out why he was still alive.

No hot weapons on the base.

Mars put his head in his hands.

Why are we still fighting? Because we can still fight.

That thought lingered in his mind as he dozed off to sleep. Mars awoke the next morning with a changed attitude. He had a new motivation. Avenge his son.

The Present.

The radio beside Mars began to speak.

"Attention, any Commonwealth forces in area. Please respond.This is Special Ops Team Five. I repeat, please respond."

Mars picked up the mic.

"Special Ops Five, this is the 332nd Infantry Brigade. We didn't know there was anyone else out there alive. "

"Yep, we're alive but barely. We've been out in the goonies about two weeks now. When we arrived at our pick up zone all we saw was burning vehicles. Let me ask you something 332nd; what are you coordinates?"

Mars pulled out his map and read off the coordinates.

The special forces man sighed.

"That is what I was afraid of. 332nd the bugs have been acting real weird lately. They have been coming out of the cities and massing on the plains. The satellite still in orbit has shown us that the bugs have abandoned their holdings all over the planet. It seems like they are coming together for one final assault. 332nd, they are coming for you. You are the last effective resistance on the planet."

Mars' visions blurred as fear and anxiety set in.

"332nd, my team is going to keep in eye on the formation. When we can hurt it we will. We will keep your constantly informed.'

The Special Ops team, gave Mars up to the minute intel for the next three hours. Finally the team was over taken by overwhelming numbers.

A few weeks before the arrival of the Commonwealth Forces

Dave turned on his headlamp as he lowered himself down into the cave. He estimated that the shaft went straight down for about fifty meters.

Dave Lutep was a professional caver tried and true. Some might call him a glorified tour guide but caving was all Dave cared for. He loved being all alone in the belly of a cavern. It gave him the peace that he so desired.

While on the way to rescue some lost tourists he had noticed an opening in the mountain that he had never seen before. Dave had quickly rescued the lost people then returned to the spot that he saw the shaft. He immediately descended.

The automatic belay device came to a stop. The bottom of the shaft was pitch black. It was so dark that Dave turned on the lights on his shoulder harness to complement his headlamp. Dave looked around looking for the caves steroetypical stalactites and stalacmites. He saw none.

Dave took off his climbing gloves as he bent down to feel caves floor. It was very wet.

With so much moisture why the hell are there no stalactites of
stalacmites?

Putting that though asided Dave placed a return beacon by the rope and ventured down one of the caves many shafts.

Dave walked out of a one hundred meter horizontal shaft and in to a large open place. The walls of the place were almost fifty meters high in some spots. Dave turned his lights to the hightest intensity. The large area extended back farther than his lights would go. Dave sighed.

This cave is too big to explore on my own. I need some help. He though.

Dave inhaled more of the damp, stale air. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarro and lit it.

Stop! Are not certain caves filled with methane? Being a proffesional caver would not Dave had know that? Yes Dave knows that but Dave is not thinking. Dave is addicted to low grade spice. He has made it a habit to eat a little spice before descending in to an unexplored cave. The spice had almost caused him to forgot to turn on the automatic belay beacon before leaving to explore one of the shafts. Very intelligent? No but Dave is a tour guide for a living. He was never very bright.

Lucky for Dave, the cave contained no methane deposits. He sat down on a damp rock and smoked for a while. The air in the cave had so much moisture in it. This made it hard to keep the cigarro lit.

Dave threw the cigarro to the ground and began walking back towards the belay beacon. Tommorrow he would return to the cave with more equipment.
He would explore this cave's many caverns. Someday he would open the cave to the public. They would call it Dave's Cave. He laughed out loud at his own wit.

Two months after the ending of the Blood Month...

Corporate Sector Fringeworlds

Ruuria


The First looked at the empty chambers, the stench of decaying meat dying down finally as the iron shutters were opened on each floor of the Tower, stronghold of the Iron.

The wind's passage through the now accessible corridors created a wail heard for kilometers around.

The Sad Vigil some had called it.

The Marking of the end of the Blood Moon signaled the launch of the Scourge and he smiled at the memory of the skies blackened, the slow throbbing of beating wings of the Scourge of various sizes took to flight. From the dumb brutes, huge creatures, that were used to shield the soldiers within their carapace protected their numbers against the heat of leaving the atmosphere and again, against the cold of vacuum.

Their own were now the chariots, taking the Scourge from their world to the waiting metal bellies of the Iron's Forward Vanguard. They would carry the Scourge across the distances at speeds faster than the creatures themselves could produce.

Already, the spores would have drifted upon various worlds for conquest, their release having taken place back when their forebears created this plan to revitalize the Scourge.

For years, the spores were either in hibernation or had hatched, the creatures emerging to give advance warning of what their forces might expect.

The creature merely needed to merge at the base of a biped's skull to enact a connection to the homeworld and then the creature would die, the biped's life forfeit and a sacrifice for the greater good.

At the time of the New Moon, all the spores would hatch and they would have be presented with all sorts of glorious options for truly, the worlds around them were truly ripe for the taking.

"And if you do not harvest the fruit when ripe.." the First murmured.

".. it becomes unusable." a woman's voice penetrated and the First turned to the Second.

"News?"

"Urdur has yielded to the Scourge. Not much meat there but the first two planets were of interest to the Iron. As always, they get first choice."

"So the technological base there will serve the Iron and serve as their resource for the next phase. And the other planet?"

"The Scourge have begun to strike with the words of the Iron following shortly. It is believed, that once the Scourge have frightened the population enough, they will capitulate and the Iron's numbers will grow exponentially."

"Is the meat useful?" the First asked and the rasp voice of the Third intruded. "They are grey skins but usable. With their numbers we can ring our world against any fool thinking to touch us. And with the technological base of Urdur, we can arm them!"


The Third's eye twitched. "The Supreme Kabal was pleased with the reports."

"Then the Vanguard was a success." the Second concluded and the First nodded. This was their most vulnerable stage for if the Scourge or the Iron were beaten, Ruuria would not have the resources for another such campaign. Their success ensured that an entire planet's population would undergo conversion, refilling the ranks of the Iron (for, truth be told, many of their bodies were used to rejuvenate the Scourge). A sacrifice indeed for the Great Balance and why the Iron had first choice of meat.

With a doubling of the Iron's industrial capacity and their grown numbers, in another month they would be ready to leap beyond their system. Beyond what old traders called the Fringeworlds.

And into the wealth of the Corporate Sector.

To Kail! To Duroon! And to what was known as the Kalinda System.

The objective was to regroup after five planetary conquests. Conversion of the masses took time as did subjection.

Third would be leaving soon for Urdur. The population was a bit smaller being more of an outpost than homeworld. So conversion would go quickly and the Supreme Kabal felt it best to keep up with their momentum.

"There will be problems between the Supreme Kabal and the Hive before the fifth planet is taken." The Second warned and the Third chuckled.

"Let them sort it out. The Great Balance will be maintained." Technically, the Supreme Kabal included the Hive and The Three but when spoken, it referred to the leaders of the Iron. The Iron were perpetual soldiers and their culture bowed to that endeavor in all aspects of their society. It was an honor to be a part of a Column. The Columns were led by individual Kabals who were, in turn, led by the Supreme Kabal.

Everything was orderly.

Everything was balanced.

The First frowned. With the Kalinda System, the Domain's entrance in the Corporate Sector would be known. Perhaps not by most and not right away. But the chance of secrecy would be gone forever.

And the Domain of the Great Balance between the Scourge, the Iron and the Force would face their biggest challenge: This thing called Commonwealth.

Ruuria, home of the Domain.


Urdur, Lafra, Prima and Rhiannon newly interred in the Greater Domain.

The coil was tightening and the forces marshalled as the Domain moved to cut off and surround the remaining inhabited planet in the sliver of space known as the Fringe Worlds.

With Kirima captured and it's two natural resources exploited, it's metals and it's people... the Domain would be poised to strike at the heart of the Corporate Sector.

The easy defeats along the outer worlds bolstered the near fanatical drive of the three great races galvanizing their commitment to the Great Balance.

And as Balance dictated, First came the Scourge.


And so, spores were released into the atmosphere of the world of Kirima even before the conquest of Urdur. And while most did not live to planetfall, there were some that took up residence in hidden places, apart from civilization.. biding their times in places dark and damp.

Always growing.

Waiting for maturity time.

When they would hatch and begin their near instinctive need.

And that would be the signal to the fleets of the Iron.


First comes the Scourge... then follows the Iron.





And it was in one of these damp and dark places that Dave Lutep, professional spelunker found himself..

Dave bit down on his flashlight like it was a gag. Agony was consuming him.

I could kill for some spice...

The bug made another incision into Dave's arm. He bit down harder.

God, I'm so hungry

He hadn't eaten in days. He had plenty of water. The bugs had dumped his body right by an underground stream.

I really want some spice...

The fact that Dave was going through spice withdrawal did not help matters either. The giant bug squeezed something slimy into Dave's leg and then scurried off.

"Finally... Stupid fucking bug."

Dave looked down at his leg. It looked pretty bad. There was nothing he could do about it. His arms seemed to be glued to a rock.

The next day...

Dave bit down as he could on the flashlight. The pain had grown worse and it had spread. His stomach was felt like it was about to explode, like something was eating it...

"What the Hell did that bug put inside me?"

A few hours later...

The last hours of Dave's live had been nothing but pain. Infant bugs had hatched inside of Dave's leg wound. They had spread and chewed their way out of his stomach. They then devoured the rest of his corpse.

VCS Rapier, hyperspace

Vice-Admiral Wilkar's quarters onboard the VCS Rapier could be comfortable. A minor petty officer would have considered the quarters to be lavish. Though by the standards of an Imperial Admiral the quarters would not have been fit for a lieutenant commander captaining a small gun ship, but while on campaign, these quarters did all right.

What more does one need but a bed, a mini-fridge, a recharging port for a datapad, and a holoprojector?

Wilkar switched on the projector.

The familiar yet annoying VNN theme song filled the room.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. The airing of the new episode of the hit reality show, ‘Survivor: Wild Space,’ will be delayed so that we can bring you a VNN exclusive report! Maranda Evans reports live with the breaking news!”

Intrigued Wilkar sat down to watch. He would have preferred “Survivor: Wild Space,” but breaking news would do.

The upper half of the graying Victor Barrell in a studio was replaced by a much younger women with pretty dark eyes. She appeared to reporting from outside a military base.

“Thank you Victor. Information is still streaming in, but we have been able to determine one thing.

“Victor, today the Commonwealth marches off to War.“

The male anchor put on a fake surprised face. “What evidence is there of a war beginning Maranda?”

“Many factors Victor. Sources from inside the military have informed me that all leaves of Commonwealth soldiers, sailors, and marines have been canceled, three-day passes revoked, everything. “

Wilkar chuckled. It sounded like this Maranda Evans reporter had charmed a few secrets out of someone from the Commonwealth Intelligence community. But with a smile like hers, who could blame the guy whom had let the wampa out of the bag. Alas, he would soon be receiving a visit from Internal Security concerning this little “slip” very soon.

The journalist continued, “the military appears to have been placed on high alert. Entry into most military bases and installations has become almost impossible. The security of some sensitive areas such as our capital at Etti-IV have has been increased.”

Victor chimed in as if on cue, “this is definitely some pretty convincing evidence Maranda. Is there anything more?”

The reporter pushed her earpiece further into her ear. “In surprise move today, Executor Rance Michels of the Intersystem Congress pushed for a new military spending and appropriation bill to be approved before the Congress’s break next month. Also, it has just been confirmed that Vice-Admiral Wilkar, also known as the Commonwealth Bachelor of the Year, and his Third Fleet have been recalled from Hapes. The Third Fleet was performing war games with the Hapan Navy. An unconfirmed report says that the admiral was also visiting a possible Hapan lover."

"Sorry ladies," joked Victor.

Maranda blushed a little bit, laughing.

“What is this? A fucking tabloid frenzy,” raved Wilkar. “Report the damn news!”

The camera panned a little to the left, so that you could see through the fence that separated the base from the road with the reporter still in view.

Soldiers could be seen running from the barracks to waiting transports. They carried heavy looking packs with carbines slung on their backs. None of them seemed too serious, considering that the transport they were about to board would be taking them to a possible end.

“Sergeant! Could you come over here? yelled Maranda at one of the soldiers. The beefy looking man sprinted to the fence, nearly knocking over a small private to get to the women. “Tell us, sergeant, why and where is you unit going?”

“The hell if I know pretty lady!” answered, letting out a spew of tobacco, the man. “505 Infantry is number one!” Other soldiers began to crowd around the fence, chanting similar things.

Maranda gave a fake laugh. “There you have it folks. The Commonwealth goes to War.”

She then gave the “kill the feed” sign.

“That’s all for tonight ladies and gentlemen. Up next is ‘Survivor: Wild Space,’” ended Victor.

Wilkar switched off the projector, and then returned to his bridge.

Meanwhile on Reltooine

George Simones watched from his high vantage point as three large shuttles made their final approach. The shuttles would be landing right in the middle of this new base. The base was so new that it still had the fresh prefab smell.

To the east, George could see the smoke from the mysterious native's fires. The officer was sure there would be problems to come from these primitives.

The hot Reltooine wind blew, ruffling the colonel’s new uniform. George could tell that it was too big; he would have to get it tailored. This uniform was like no other worn by Commonwealth soldiers: black. The all black uniform was interrupted by gold piping. Down the all black pants, rode gold stripes, similar to the old Correlian Blood Stripes of the Correlian military.

The uniform was almost completely unadorned. A rank insignia on the front along with two gold letters emblazoned on the sleeve all alone in a sea of black and gold. The two letters made up an acronym: DW.

The Death Watch.



Soldiers were disembarking from the three shuttlecraft. They were of all different species, genders, and units. George could see uniforms from all different theaters: snow, jungles, deserts and urban. All them were wearing cold weather gear. One Rodian started to shed his heavy fur lined coat. He was quickly reprimanded by one of George’s NCOs. The group of soldiers was marshaled into ranks, facing George’s tower.

“Welcome to Fort Sarlacc Den... your new home,” began George. The assembly was beginning to sweat in the Reltooine heat. The major could see many red faces among the humans.

“As of now you are all demoted to the rank of private.” George let out a silent chuckle as he saw the jaw of a newly minted officer drop to his collarbone. “That puts us in a dilemma. There is no one to lead your platoons…”

Colonel Simones paused as he watched a human female in full snow camouflage hit the ground.

Looks like the heat is getting to them faster than I expected…

“Wait there why I decide on new platoon leaders,” George told the soldiers as he walked to his office.

The strongest would become the new platoon leaders. The final ten left standing. Usually, this was not how platoon leaders were chosen. The smartest, the most tactically minded, the best leaders…

But the Death Watch Legion did not need the smart, the tactically minded, or the best leaders. The Death Watch needed strong backs to become cannon fodder. The Commonwealth would require a new breed to soldiers for this new war brewing on of those fringe worlds.

The Death Watch Regiment would become a lightning unit. They were the legion sent to where the fires of war burned the hottest. They would push the invaders back through the breach. They would take the worst casualties.

They were the damned.

A core of veterans would form after the weak were washed away by the tides of battle.



A few hours later George returned to Fort Sarlacc Den's parade grounds.. Ten remained: a runtish looking Wookie, a mean looking Gran, a few Twileks, and some humans. The stronger to lead the weaker. Back to the basics.

“Welcome to the Death Watch. Prepare for your rebirth…”

Reltooine

“Reltooine is truly a planet in harmony. The plants absorb water from the air, using transpiration. The animals eat the plants to gain this water. The natives… they kill the animals for blood and juicy meat.

George picked up the new piece of equipment in front of him.

“This is a portable vaporator. When you venture outside of the gates of the Sarlacc Den, it will be all that keeps you alive. It can suck up to a two liters out of the air in a standard hour if it is in optimal condition.”

Simone began to take it apart. The device was surprisingly simple. A thin collector tube screwed led to a bladder like reservoir. Between these two parts was a bank of filters. They had to be kept extremely clean for the vaporator to perform to its maximum potential.

Colonel Simone dismissed his regiment. They dissolved into a sea of blue-gray companies, and receive classroom instruction in the use of the new piece of equipment. He then returned to his office. Blue-gray camouflage was the standard for Commonwealth soldiers. The men and women of Fort Sarlacc Den had not earned the right to wear Death Watch black and gold.



A very ancient looking man sat in George’s office. It was obvious that his body was failing him. His shaking hands struggled to hold the large bottle of brandy. The weight was too much, and the bottle fell to ground, shattering and spilling the amber liquid all of the room.

“I’m going to need another bottle of that George,” the old man half whispered, half coughed.

George shook his head, “you truly have fallen.”

“Is that how a proper officer addresses his father? On top of that you’re not the first commander of the Death Watch. If one could even call this pathetic lot that,” said the old man as he wiped the dripping brandy out of his beard.

“Those men and women will become something greater than that group of treacherous back stabbers. And who are you to talk? Teti Viba is officially dead. Less than five people in the entire galaxy know that you are actually alive. The rest of the galaxy along with you Mandalorian chums thinks you died years ago on Endor.

“You empty brazenness disgusts me.”

Teti Viba tried fixed George with the coldest stare his tired old eyes could muster. Though it quickly melted as the warmth of fatherly love took over.

“Don’t forsake my legacy son. Let my spirit live on through your regiment.”

George nodded.

The father and son embraced one last time.



“General, you’ve got to give us more time,” said George to a man that was a thousand light years away.

The two-thirds hologram sighed. “George, when was the last time you heard anything about the 332nd Heavy Infantry Brigade or the entire Commonwealth First Expeditionary Force for that matter?”

“Not much sir,” replied George.

“That’s because they were almost completely wiped out. The First landed on Kirima 12,000 strong. When they were finally relieved they were down to less than fifty. The Commonwealth is bleeding George. High Command needs you and your regiment now, not in five more weeks.”

“I need more time to train them General. They’re not ready.”

“Ruuria and Kirima are becoming powerhouses for the ‘bugs,’ and we’ve got them partially contained there, but for how long? What if they break out to Bonadan? Or the Thandon Cluster?”

“If that happens, we’re fucked.”

The General's hologram nodded.

“We will be ready soon General. The Commonwealth shall have its Death Watch Regiment.”

InterSystems Congress - 23rd Session since inception



The holographic projection standing before the other projections was sharper than anything Tysico had seen in quite a while. In fact, it looked like he held audience with thousands others comprising the virtual Congressional Chambers of the ISC.

Political Protocols were still being refined but the function of government was quickly gearing towards something impressive.

He, like all members in attendence, were listening to a speech from a woman representing Tholatin that was, well rather passionate. He had signed onto the system and gone through massive security protocols before being admitted to the Session and so had missed her opening statements where one generally introduced the topic. Still, he felt himself getting annoyed.

Tyscio could tell that the woman's comments were moving some people but felt the time they were spending on this could have been better spent elsewhere.

Indeed, the agendas needed refining as well.

"... that our august body, that the Commonwealth, should adopt an organization called "Death Watch" is contrary to the ideals and representation of what we, what the people are all about!

We are not in the business of terrorizing our people and we are not in the business of brutalizing our citizens unlike some factions within this galaxy."

Tyscio finally had had enough. Signaling his desire to speak, "Congresswoman, I understand that you feel your world was brutalized and victimized by its..." he hesitated groping for a better word than conquerors, "...previous hierarchy, but what is this Death Watch? Are they a planetary security force? Are they police?"

The woman replied, "They represent a military organization. Our military represents us.. and for us to be represented by even a company of..."

"Excuse me? Are we talking about being vexed over a military attachment called 'Death Watch'?" Tyscio interrupted surprising the Congresswoman.

"If you had been here at the beginning..." the woman began but Tyscio would have none of it.

"What is the purpose of the Commonwealth military?" Tyscio interrupted again causing the woman to become angry.

"They represent the Commonwealth.."

"No ma'am. They do not!" Tyscio said flatly. The woman stood there shocked and several avatars woke up feeling a shift in dynamic the Session was taking. "Diplomats represent the Commonwealth," Tyscio continued, "The military is an organization needed for war which is given the difficult task of protecting us which means, in plain terms, killing the other person before they kill us! It means causing overwhelming death to our enemies before they cause overwhelming death to us! To facilitate that end, if they need to be called Killer Angels, Death Watch, Death's Bastards, Death's Crazy 3rd Uncle's, then they will be called such!

Sometimes the only thing standing between the flaying of one's courage in battle and keeping their sanity in holding the line is their badass Company name. Sometimes what causes an enemy to hesitate, even for a second, is one's badass name.

The police and civil defense are the government's liason to the people. They represent the government to the people. Diplomat's represent the government to other governments. I suppose you could say the military does represent our Commonwealth but only to our enemies.

And what message do we want to send to our enemies?

That we have the baddest ***CW Censor***'s on our side!

I move to dismiss this petition and move onto something more meaty, such as ..." Tyscio began to scroll across the topics and highlighed one, "a convoy missing near the Fringe Worlds and presumed lost. What military forces do we have in the area to investigate this?"