What makes a Man? Redemption or Revenge? (Valkeron Calderon)

[Koshka Scalvez]

@Valkeron Calderon

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OTS: Officer Training School. A prestigious place for men and woman of all ages to train and become the future leadership of the Republic. A ripe target for the Dark Swarm. To completely ensure the planned massacre of the facility, the Dark Swarm intended on releasing three Heralds upon the facility. The plan was set to go off in the deadest of night in three days. Surely, this would result in a terrible tragedy for the young adults and senior trainers of OTS...if not for a leak of information.

One of the few kicked out of the school, Valkeron Calderon, is sent a most important electronic envoy over the HoloNet. It doesn't go into much detail, but one thing is known for certain: the facility will be attacked in three days when they least expect it. The school was in danger and they didn't even know it!

 

[Valkren Calderon]

The Sergeant huffed as he looked over the datapad in his hand, the message he had received a day or two earlier really put him on edge. He had heard nothing of the OTS unit on Alderaan since about a year after he had been relieved of his title. Back then, Valkren was looked upon as an OTS legend, breaking most of the records and times for several exercises that simulated combat with full assault units. Those records might have existed to this day had he not been kicked out of the damn place. Did he have something against the CO's of the school? Ofcourse, who wouldn't have held a grudge if you had been kicked out after leading the entire class for a solid seven months. Yet, he got over it, spending most of his days working under the command of Colonel [member="Weiss"], as a specialized unit of commandos.

This time, however, he was off the books.

He was unsure of all of this, he had always gotten messages requesting assistance..Old and new friends, work partners, and old flames. Most he had just blown off due to his duty requiring his full attention. This was different, this was what seemed to be a terrorist threat on the Republic itself. The amount of young and inexperienced soldiers and students that sat in wait at that school with no idea of their impending doom was too great to let slip by. He swiped the message off of the pad as he heard someone approaching, the ship rattled suddenly as he heard a familiar voice.

"You alright, boss?" As Valkren looked up to the walkway next to his seat, he spotted his white plated comrade, Jonathan Michaels, his demolitions expert and second in command (Saber-Two). Even while he hadn't told his higher ups about this mission, he was against leaving his team in the dark. So when he told his brothers about the message, they wouldn't let their NCO go on a mission without them.

"It's probably just his time of month." Piped up Watson, Saber team's designated marksman and also their Saber-Three. The marksman with a rather strong southern drawl slid onto the bench where Valkren had placed himself before. The Sergeant simply responded to this jeer by putting his ally into a headlock, tightening his grip as Watson pounded his fist against the white and grey plating of Valkren's armor. Just earlier before they had taken this ship into the space of the surrounding republic space, his entire team had already readied their gear, which included suiting up in their specialized heavy-assault armor. Even if the attack on the OTS compound came in a few days, Valkren wanted to begin setting up imedietly. "Yeah, it's my time of the month boy, so where's my chocolate?" Valkren jeered back at him, before his intel specialist, Young, spoke up over the ship's communications system. "If you fellas' are done karking around, you should come up to the pilot's deck."

With this message, Valk' released his grip on Watson, shoving him away and chuckling. "Get movin' kiddies, let's see what the good word is." The small portion of Saber team lifted up their helmets in one hand, with their rifles in the others, and made their way up to the pilot's deck. As they reached the deck of the ship that included the cockpit and a makeshift briefing room, Saber team's two assault specialists, O'Connor and O'Riley, would already be there leaning on their Z-6 rotary cannons. They both nodded to Valkren, and he returned their gestures with his own half-assed salute. Young pushed himself away from the pilot seat and made his way to the group. "Right, so we'll be in Alderaan's airspace in about half a day.."

"This is only going to leave us about two days to convince to higher ups of OTS that they really are in danger.."

"If they even are." O'Riley muttered.

"Stuff it, Irish."

"Piss off."

His team had every reason to be skeptical, Valkren was just as confused about this mission as the next commando, but they had to asses the situation right away. Valkren knew his men would be with him no matter if this was a serious situation, or just a false alarm. He hoped to god it wasn't a false alarm if he had slipped away without Weiss knowing. Soon they'd be on his home planet, hell..Maybe they could visit his sister and mother.

[member="Dark Swarm Narrator"]

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

25 hours 'til attack

As [member="Valkren Calderon"] came into Alderaan's orbit, they would find that it was currently night time for the students of OTS. Instead of asleep in their bunks, the cadets were in the midst of an intensive outdoor exercise that was the first of many to come. Tonight's exercise marked the beginning of a newly added program known as "Hell Week". The trainers would not be happy, at least initially, to any outside disturbance to their training regime, especially coming from a "bad seed".

At the edge of the system, a lone dark shuttle dropped out of hyperspace and just...waited there...seemingly dead in space.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Valkren held his helmet under his right arm, gripping his rifle rather tightly with his left hand as he climbed into the cockpit. Young had already made his way back into the pilot's seat, attempting to open a channel with the OTS landing facility. Even if they were off the books, there was almost nowhere on Alderaan where they could land and be off-record. With the amount of Organa and Republic Loyalists, their ship would most definitely be spotted and be questioned. This would be the easiest way of cutting it right to the chase with the higher ups, even if they didn't want to see the likes of Valkren around anymore.

Valkren also pondered that he could be welcomed, having changed his ways in the slightest, and now being a part of the specialized commando unit. They could only wait and see.

"Aldeeran OTS facility, transport shuttle requesting to dock on landing pad under command of Sergeant Valkren Calderon of Saber Team. Under current orders from Colonel Weiss himself. Please respond." The younger commando stated over the comms system, flipping several switches and messing with a few gadgets as he prepared for their landing. If they permitted ofcourse.. If they denied the request, Valkren would either have to pull the few strings he had left, or just take an emergency landing in the woods to the north of the facility. They'd have to hurry aswell, time was ticking down.

Valkren leaned back down to the briefing room from the cockpit, pointing two fingers at his team that sat waiting. They all nodded, sliding their helmets over their heads and readying their equipment. They continued to check each other's supplies to be sure everything was ready. Even if the supposed attack did not come until the next day and a half or so, Valkren wanted his team to be ready for anything. All of their visors lit up as soon as they were ready, initializing their HUDs.

Valkren smirked, turning back to the cockpit and staring out across Alderaan's landscape as they waited for their request to be considered.

[member="Dark Swarm Narrator"]

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

Two very serious men worked silently together in the cramped traffic control office of OTS. Suddenly, a ping came up. Both men looked at each other and almost forgot what to do. The recruits came once a month and supplies came on Friday. Besides that, NO ONE ever visited OTS out of the blue without it being drummed into them beforehand by the trainers.

They scrambled to their equipment after the unprofessional delay and answered the call.

"[member="Valkren Calderon"]..." said one of the men to himself very thoughtfully. He turned to his friend and snapped his fingers to get his attention. He then whispered to the other man with his hand covering the mic, "Look up a Valkren Calderon. See what you get..." He then uncovered the mic and asked, "Sergeant? Please provide the make and model of your ship and your Transponder ID, over?" He shoved the mic away from himself and asked, "What'd'ya got?"

The friend remained quiet for a couple seconds more and then finally read his findings off.

"Calderon, Valkren. Top of his class. Kicked out of OTS...Damn! I know this guy, Martin! Do you remember that guy, Martin?!"

"No, loudmouth, I don't remember. How about you explain more instead of fanboying!"

"You HATED this dude, man! He broke your records, ratted out your contraband and don't you remember the time he kicked you in the dick?" The suppressed memories rushed back and Martin's face twisted in embarrassment and anger.

"Shut the frell up, Casey! I remember, you drek wad!"

"I mean," he covered his face and tried to stifle his laughter. "He kicked you in the dick like...10 times, or something!"

"SHUT UP, CASEY!" said Martin as he threw a book at his friend's head. The friend was experienced enough to duck, so the book hit the wall with extreme prejudice.

When Valkren spoke with his info, Martin saw that the mute light wasn't on. "Dammit, Valkren. Why are you here..." he whispered to himself. After Valkren was verified, he would direct him to hangar bay B-4.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Young cocked his brow for a moment, overhearing some of the chattering from the other side. He simply ignored it, figuring he had maybe stumbled into something he shouldn't have heard. He removed the headset from his head for a moment, looking over his shoulder and giving Valk' the thumbs up gesture.

Valkren nodded as Young relayed all the information that was requested back to the two officers. He turned and moved down the stairway toward the briefing room of the small ship, slapping Watson on the back of his helmet as he passed by, causing him to shrug into a turtle-like defense maneuver. The Sergeant made his way through the ship, all the way to the belly of it, moving to the cargo bay as Young maneuvered the ship toward the bay in which they were requested to land in.

"O'Connor, the switch." He motioned as he slid his rifle along the supply pack on his back, switching his helmet to rest under the left arm. Valkren was the only member of the squad to have his helmet off, giving whatever welcome party that would greet them a clear sign at who he was and who exactly was in charge.

"Aye Sir." The assault specialist grumbled through with a vocoded-huff, lifting his Z-6 rotary cannon up onto his shoulder and moving to the controls of the landing ramp.

As the group hovered into the bay, O'Connor hit the switch just as they began to turn about so the front of the ship was facing the exit of the bay. As the ramp lowered at the same time they did, a herd of memories flooded back into Calderon's head. Three fresh units of cadets, marching off into the bay as instructors barked orders at them..The intense PT..The runs at four in the morning. The combat simulations. It all came back to him, even the fights. The fights, they were horrible..They were the reason he had been kicked out. His psych eval' was a colorful one, at the least. Describing him as a 'hothead,' and a lost cause when it came to arguments with his fellow cadets. He was mainly known for almost putting one of the cadets in a coma..But Valkren honestly didn't think that's why he was kicked out, hell yes it helped the cause..Yet it seemed like someone was out to get him when he was there. He sighed as they landed, walking off of the ship as the came to a halt. "Young, stay with the ship."

[member="Dark Swarm Narrator"]

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

A small envoy of officials quick-stepped to meet the docking vessel and its crew. The envoy consisted of the Academy Dean, the battlemaster and a couple of assistants. They stood and waited for the crew to come down and meet them. When they came out and acknowledged them, the Dean jumped right into it.

"I'm not going to honey comb this, Sergeant: Your presence alone means trouble around here. The only reason you're allowed here, for the time being, is Colonel Weiss. As such, why don't you tell us what this is all about so we can get back to more important things?"

It was clear that the Dean was annoyed and perturbed at all of this behind the air of military precision and professionalism that fit around him.

[member="Valkren Calderon"]

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Valkren simply smiled at the Dean's sudden statement just as him and his team got into hearing range of the welcome party. The rest of his men could be seen actually turning their helmeted heads toward Valkren, in wait for his response. It almost seemed like even his higher ups didn't speak to him in this way before, so they were rather interested in their NCO's response.

Calderon kept his smile, nodding to the group. "It's good to be back on Alderaan, Sir." He left out the fact that this was the first time in quite a while that he had returned to the OTS facility. He didn't mean it as an insult, but simply to let the Dean know that he was no longer a cadet, and that he wouldn't take anything lying down anymore.

"That's fair enough, Sir..This is your facility after all, so I won't honey comb it either. Sir we have reason to believe that this facility will be a target within a day or so for some sort of terrorist attack on the Republic itself."

As the ship's engines roared to a stop, Valkren reached around to his utility belt, unclipping the datapad that held the message he had reviewed over so many times. The Sergeant offered it over to the Dean or any member of his staff, his fingers gripping the underside of his helmet rather tightly, waiting for them to review over it. He was nervous, but he knew the message itself was the truth..What he was about to say, wasn't exactly the case.

"It's in the Republic's best interest to protect it's future officers and the intel that this facility contains, and that is where I come in..I'm to take over security over this week to assure that everyone is safe."

[member="Dark Swarm Narrator"]

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

If the Dean wasn't convincingly serious before, he was now deathly serious at the use of the words, "target" and "terrorist". His tone became cold as though they were all treading on thin ice.

"Those are strong allegations at best, sergeant. You'd better have some damn good evidence to support this claim of yours."

With that, he snatched the offered datapad and read the contents. The anonymous tip spoke of deep consequences and seemed legitimate enough...but there were too many unknowns. All he could find out was that someone or something or some force was going to supposedly attack OTS at a very specific time. The who, what (as in "in what way") and why were lacking, which he found to be disturbing. Then again, this all could be an elaborate hoax. The unknown scared the Dean. That fear turned to anger.

[member="Valkren Calderon"]'s next words made the Dean laugh because it sounded like the sergeant must have been joking. His face turned into a sneer as the humor was immediately lost to frustration.

"Now, listen here, Calderon! I wouldn't hand you poodoo to dispose for me! The fact that you're alive means one of two things: you're either a coward or a rifle jockey with a debt to Lady Luck! What you have here is shadier intel than we had when my unit and I piloted headlong into the minefields of Galak-Gyre IV!"

The Dean was breathing heavily, so he stopped talking and took a moment to slow his breathing and loosen his the neck of his shirt. After he did that, he kept talking.

"I've handled the security around here for long enough before you arrived, I can handle it just fine without your spitfire shebse staining our facility now that you've arrived and I'll continue to run a tight ship around here long after you're gone. If you want to burn fuel by flying around with your fellow moof milkers and run reconnaissance hops for the next day or two, that's up to you. BUT, I WILL NOT have you hanging around these grounds. If I catch you around here again without proper causation, let alone conversing with any of our cadets, I will run your records up the flag and rain a drek storm down upon you that not even the Colonel can shield you from...Do I make myself...perfectly clear, sergeant?"

He said the word "sergeant" with utter disdain, like it was a title so far below him...which was technically true.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

The entire team was in shock as they heard these words leave the dean's mouth.

"Think Valk's goin' to hit him?"

"I've got twenty credits on it."

"Make it thirty."

"Deal."

Valkren couldn't hear them as they chattered across their voice channel, due to his helmet not being on, but he knew they were doing it. He knew exactly what they were saying, and by all means, he wanted to slug the man infront of him and give him a taste of new-aged combat..But he wouldn't.

The Sergeant simply nodded, sliding his helmet over his head just as the visor lit up a bright blue, signaling that his head's up display had kicked into action. His voice was now vocoded over, making it quite deeper in tone. "Understood, Sir. We'll have to keep the ship here for a few to let us refuel..We'll be out of your hair in no time." Without any further actions, Valkren snapped off a salute, spinning on his heels and began to walk off toward his ship. The rest of his team contained confused looks behind their visors, several of them looking back and forth between their NCO and the 'enemy' envoy. They eventually turned and jogged after their team leader, slowing to a walk as they heard Valkren speak up through their comms.

"Young, I want you to try and get into the facilities' cameras. Michaels, take Watson up to a hill point a few clicks west of the facility..I'll update your map from the briefing room, there should be a nice blind spot you can overview the facility from. O'Riley, check our equipment..I want everything ready incase of anything. O'Connor, you're the people person, you stay on the ramp..Keep anyone that comes up busy."

"You'll be in their system in five." Young responded from within the ship. The rest of Saber team moving up the ramp and into the ship they came on.

"This is a training facility, it's no fortress..They're going to need help." He said, making his way up into the briefing room while the rest of his team made their ways about the ship, preparing for this small operation.

[member="Dark Swarm Narrator"]

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

11 hours 'til attack

The space shuttle at the edge of the system had come to life once more and was now floating in orbit. Soon after it stopped in orbit, three slithering, dark, eel-like figures exited the shuttle and snaked their way down to their target. It was up to [member="Valkren Calderon"] and his band of merry men to set up whatever lines of defense they could without getting caught to do what they felt was right.

Attempts to get into their cameras was done with minor difficulty. Besides a minor bark rat infestation in the trees on the hill, it would serve nicely as a base of operations. The cadets and trainers carried on with their duties. The war game of "Conquest" had been planned to go on for a long time tonight with pain ammunition. However, with the recent security concern, trainers were reluctantly imposing an early curfew/lights out and then getting up earlier than usual the next day.

The foundation that was laid now would set the stage for what was to take place tonight.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

The ship that sat in bay four sat in complete darkness, Young sat at the helm of it, his helmet resting on the 'dash,' right above the radar that he yawned so intensely in front of. Directly above the radar were the screens that usually held all the readings and status reports on the ship's lively hood, was now broadcasting all the cameras that overviewed the courtyard, the cadets in their simulation, and all of the bays and entry points. Down one level in the ship sat Valkren, O'Riley, and O'Connor. They rested in the cargo bay of the ship, geared up with their rifles, visors blinking gently in the dark as they all prepared a Z-6 rotary cannon, and a Republic issued rocket propelled grenade launcher. Valkren turned away from the pair for a moment, looking to the closed ramp and speaking over his team's communication system.

"Watson, Michaels..Status on surrounding area of the training grounds?" He spoke up, waiting for a response from his forward recon team.

About a ten minute walk from the facility's location, Watson was busy sighting in his modified rifle as Michaels tried to settle into a more comfortable position. Michaels set his helmet up onto a patch of moss that was on the ledge they were settled behind, reaching over for his communicator. "Eyes on, Sir. Nothing so far.." He stated looking to the second Republic issued launcher that sat behind them in their small blind. He looked back over the training grounds, lifting a set of binoculars up to his eyes and sighing. "Think the Sergeant is losing it?" Michaels spoke up, directing his statement toward the designated marksman that stood directly next to him.

"Don't say that, you're one of his closest friends man..I mean, kark.. Seriously?" Watson replied, readjusting his aim and his position just slightly.

Just as Michaels was about to offer another response, the radio piped up. "Keep an eye out, see anything..Let us know, we'll be out onto the training field as fast as we can. Remember the plan, boys."

This was difficult, providing a defensive line for a facility that didn't even want them there..One that didn't even know they were still there, besides the ship that rested in the silence of night. Valkren though to contact the security chief, but he simply didn't know if the same chief that he used to know was still here..And what he thought of him anymore. If anything happens, he might have to fall back on the chief as a plan B, or the facility and Saber team would both be obliterated. "Young, if anything goes down..Hook up three of the monitors to our feed's and transmit directly to the Republic. They'll need to see all of this."

[member="Dark Swarm Narrator"]

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

(Had Homework. Am Sorry.)

[member="Valkren Calderon"]

It was an hour past their expected time of arrival, but the three Heralds finally got to their target. Under the cover of night, the black, shiny eel-like creatures slithered through the night sky. They came straight down upon the facility and searched for ways inside. One made its way inside the open hangar, another busted into an outside ventilation grid and the last one stalked around outside waiting for anyone to step or run outside.

The attack had begun, but the facility was far from prepared.

(After your next post, I will drop some heavy narrative.)

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Young had almost fallen asleep before the heralds had breached their way in, one of the screens to his left lit up bright red, shocking the man into an awaken stance. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he situated himself back into the pilot's chair. He moved his focus back to the screen that so rudely awakened him, cocking a brow, not really believing what he witnessed pass by the camera system. "Uhh..Boss. Something just went through the ventilation systems..Trying to get a bead on it now." The intel analyst chattered, switching his gaze to another screen as it lit up in a red warning sign, catching the large eel-like form pass by suddenly. "The hangers too!"

Valkren blinked as he heard the report from Young, lifting his rifle up into a readied position, flipping on the lights on his suit and weapon. "O'Connor, open the door, we're moving out..Keep it tight boys, we're unsure of what's we're dealing with here." The Sergeant spoke up, rolling his shoulders as he readied himself to move out of the vehicle.

With that command, O'Connor lifted his republic-issued launcher over his shoulder, letting it lock into place on his supply pack as he made his way to the door, yanking down the lever that enabled the lowering of the ship's ramp. O'Riley lifted up the Z-6 rotary cannon, leading the charge with a slow walk down the ramp. As the three man team made their way to the start of the ramp, they all stopped, staring into the darkness. The only bit of light in the bay was produced by their weapons and helmet lights. "Young, flip on the lights." The man who sat behind so many of the screens nodded to himself, twisting and messing with several of the gadgets once more, and before long the entire bay was flooded with light.

[member="Dark Swarm Narrator"]

(Much like you said, once everything gets kicked off..I'll post a good bit more hopefully.)

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

The lights in the hangar came on all at once, much to the utter surprise of the Herald. What hadn't been a surprise was the arrival of the troopers. As soon as the ramp lowered, the Herald had slithered behind a T-98 Hopper and waited to see what would happen. The three of them walked down and the Herald inched forward to get a better look at the new arrivals. These were not the fleshy weaklings they had been promised.

The overwhelming light came on and the Herald couldn't help but hiss loudly in response. It lurched back and hugged closely to the shadows of the Hopper. The Herald was stuck between its fight or flight instinct.

Across on the other side of the facility, in the traffic control center, there were two men working in their shared office. These two were Martin and Casey. Martin was uneasy. Although [member="Valkren Calderon"] and his crew hadn't been given access to the facility, the Dean had allowed them to stay in the hangar as long as needed. Martin wouldn't be feeling at ease any time soon until the "dick kicker" himself was out of the system.

They were both working on yet more paperwork. At this time of the night, they were honestly in between interests of work and entertaining themselves.

"Man, this blows! This is the third time this week I've had to fill out this 10-82 because SOMEONE thinks that I keep doing it wrong! There's nothing wrong with it!!" complained Casey.

"Look," replied Martin. "You COULD either get off your shebs and put that ventilation grate back on the frelling wall to pass the time OR you could grow a pair, shut up and keep working." This didn't sit well with Casey, so he said in return,

"I'm glad he kicked you in the---" but he had to stop fast and duck a trash ball that was thrown at him by a half angry, half laughing Martin.

"I said SHUT yer frelling mouth, Casey! Ha ha!" Casey laughed and joined in on the fun. Martin ducked his head under his desk to stay safe while making trash balls out of the trash paper he dropped on the ground earlier. Pretty soon, Casey stopped laughing and became eerily silent. The only thing he said was,

"M-m-Martin??" in a fearful voice. "Martin, help!!" was what Casey then yelled. Martin bumped his head on the bottom of the desk as he quickly tried to sit up. His head hit and he tried to lower his head and then back out as he heard a sickening gory, wet sound. Something solid hit the desk above his head. He finally got out and sat up...to find Casey's head on his desk.

The shocked expression of pure fear and white rolling eyes were written on Casey's face. Black goo rimmed the bottom of his torn neckline stump. What was even more disturbing was Casey's body. The body still sat normally in the seat except that a Herald's face was shoved inside the open neck and spinal area on top of the body. It was gorging itself; flecks of black goo and dark red blood spattered every which way. The heart was acting as a pump and the Herald was feeding on the flow.

Shocked beyond all belief, it was everything Martin could do to not scream in horror. He shoved his hand in his mouth and slowly got up from his seat. The Herald did not notice. It kept gorging itself. Finally, Martin reached the door, quickly opened it and slammed the door behind him. He took off down the hall screaming at the top of his lungs.

The Herald only noticed the slamming of the door and went to investigate. He slithered over to the door and the body fell on top of the desk. It only squirted once or twice before becoming still. The Herald, content with its kill, slithered back into the vent.

The black goo on the head stump and the black goo on the neck stump of the body started squirming. Soon enough, little black tendrils formed and poked out from each body half. The tendrils on the head soon became big enough that they started to physically drag the head over to the body. The tendrils on the body became numerous enough to reach out and steadily attempt to re-integrate the head back onto the neck...

 

[Valkren Calderon]

"You hear that?"

"Some kinda' animal?"

"That didn't sound like anything friendly to me." O'Riley swung his rotary cannon about as the team advanced further down the ramp, the light attached to the end of it providing more field of sight for the commandos.

"Keep moving boys..Young, got anything on the cameras?"

There was a brief moment of silence as the intel specialist almost seemed speechless. In the previous moments Young had just opened up the camera view on the traffic-control-center of the facility, witnessing the entirety of the event that had just took place. "Sir..I think we should warn the dean."

Valkren cocked a brow behind his visor, continuing down the ramp as he spoke up once more. "What are you talking about, Young?"

[member="Dark Swarm Narrator"]

(Forgive me for short posts and the lengthy amount of time between posts. I promise to get back to the original length and back into the groove of things soon!)

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

[member="Valkren Calderon"]

(You're cool for this school, man. Don't worry about it.)

The Herald in the hangar was getting antsy. It didn't want to get shot to pieces by these armored and dangerous men, but it also wanted to carry out its horrifying task. It darted from shadow to shadow, hoping to get ahead of them and out of the hangar.

The Herald in the vents slowly made it's way to the dormitories.

The Herald outside started gnawing on the metal antennas atop the roof.