Captain Tal-Daris stared silently at the readout he had just received on his data pad. His face hardened and he curtly saluted the young corporal who had come to receive orders. “It will be two hours before we’re on the ground”, Tal-Daris thought. “There won’t be anything left”. He looked up and barked, “Corporal, we land on Kindari in two hours. This will probably be another recovery mission. Get your men ready.” The corporal betrayed no emotion, but snapped a salute and turned away. By now, he had become used to such orders.
The planet Kindari was a small, agriculture-based planet laden with rich soil and a temperate climate. It had seen many battles and had suffered greatly at the hands of the Empire and the Rebel Alliance as they battled for control of the planet’s vast food supply network. The planet’s inhabitants were, at best, lukewarm in their feelings for either side and wished only to live in peace as they had only years before. Tal-Daris frowned as he scanned the readout of the planet’s population statistics and governmental structure. What had a small settlement on Kindari done to deserve such a fate?
Exactly two hours later, Tal-Daris and a company of Alliance soldiers landed on a small farming settlement. A distress signal had been received from the settlement and a muffled transmission had been abruptly cut off. The only words audible from the recording were, “….attacked….heavy casualties…Black…Brigade…..” As battle hardened as he was, Tal-Daris had suppressed a shudder at these last words. As he stepped off his ship and surveyed the area, it was easy to see why.
The only sound heard throughout the settlement was the crunch of the boots of Alliance soldiers as they made their way to the center of town. Smoke billowed from rooftops as flames engulfed the small, modest homes. Bodies of men, women, and children lay scattered everywhere. Tal-Daris passed the body of a young woman who had been killed by blaster fire. Anger and disbelief appeared on his face as he examined the fatal wound. She had been executed at close-range.
“Sergeant Voris, Report!” barked Tal-Daris. A young, bearded soldier saluted the Captain. “Sir?” “What have your men recovered, Sergeant?” demanded Tal-Daris. The sergeant hesitated for a moment before placing a torn insignia into the Captain’s hand. It was completely black and bore an emblem of a primitive, flaming steel sword. Tal-Daris stared at the insignia before clenching it in his fist. “Too late again”, he muttered. “Remember these people, sergeant. They didn’t serve the Empire or the Rebellion. They served their families. That’s why they were murdered.”
Tal-Daris had received reports weeks before of a group of ex-special forces Alliance operatives known as the Black Brigade. They had been raiding small settlements on nearby planets with any Imperial presence. Their trademark calling-card had been the black insignias like the one Sergeant Voris had recovered. No one was entirely sure who the Black Brigade leader was or how they were formed, but they had learned one crucial and horrifying fact. Black Brigade NEVER left survivors.
To Be Continued
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