Greetings, stranger. Welcome to my page. I am Ori'verda AKA Milos and I currently live in the Netherlands. I like games, girls, books, movies and teamwork. Also I enjoy discussing about religion, politics, history and such affairs. And ignore the fact that a lot of my groups are Science-Fiction related, I love Sci-Fi for good reasons! ☢ ☢ ☢ P.S. The video with the redhead is not porn! I may be a crazy Serbian but I'm not that crazy. Besides that I'm a goof, in fact to show you I am going to fill up the my description with random banter, why? Yeah you guessed it, I'm not that strange or weird it is in fact to get a HTML code to work, if you don't know what that is good luck. Regardless I suppose I should continue filling out this description field according to that manual so I can get a cooler description, I don't know if that makes sense to you but according to the manual it works so it must work right? Well it should otherwise you would not be seeing this... Or would you? SRB FTW!
Posted by Ori`verda on Jul 24th, 2013
A short notice before reading, other chapters are already pretty much done but I'll be posting them in irregular intervals. This story is a Star Wars fan fiction about the Mandalorians, it may not be 100% accurate to their culture but that was just to make the story fit so Adenn forgive me.
The story is a bit based on the battles of Stalingrad and Leningrad as well as Operation Citadel. I drew some inspiration from the good ol' classic Call of Duty games, I stress good and classic. As a gamer, there is rarely a moment as memorable as the opening of the Stalingrad mission.
I awoke to the sound of singing, our commander and officers had spurred the others on to recite Vode An to raise morale. We didn't need it, we live for battle. Even if this particular one would probably cause the end of us all.
Kandosii sa kar'ta, Vode an.
Manda'yaim a'den mhi, Vode an.
We worked in shifts, I had the day shift but with the singing I could not sleep. Most of us were restless, sleeping in beskar'gam is not comfortable, and the battle was always on the verge of beginning in earnest.
I grabbed my helmet. The golden claw that ran across the left cheek had been partially scratched off, last week’s close call with the a Stormtrooper caused it.
Bal kote, darasuum kote,
Jorso'ran kando a tome.
Quickly I put it on and stepped out of my tent into the camp. All around me, my brothers were preparing for the battle. The stench of life and death hung in the air, mixed with bacta and munitions.
Along with another group of warriors I marched towards the trenches, the singing continued and gained in volume as others like me were awoken by it. I could see our tanks line up near the front of the camp, our starfighters were returning from the frontline and many of our Battle Droids were being activated. Finally the battle would start in earnest, I hoped, the skirmishes were at an end.
Sa kyr'am nau tracyn kad, Vode an.
Me and my brothers jumped into the muddy pit below, the dirt that had previously accumulated was still there. None of us found time to clean it or ourselves. The state of the earthwork was less then pristine, months of bombardment had taken their toll on the networks of trenches, bunkers, pillboxes and other fortifications we established. All of this to protect Keldabe, our capital, which housed our only hope. A series of very powerful ground-to-space turbolasers which kept the Imperial Fleet at bay and prevented them from sending down heavy troop barges or bombarding us from orbit. We were assigned to protect the city and the lasers with our lives.
Near a small ammo box was a radio transmitter, I tried to catch some of the chatter as I walked to my station. The resistance at Sundari was crushed, the city was a smouldering ruin and less then a tenth of the army that was garrisoned there made it out.
Ranger Lead to Anvil, the artillery strike was ineffective. I repeat, artillery strike was ineffective. Imperial base defences are too strong, they are too entrenched.
Most others had already joined with our officer at my station, the ruus’alor stared out in the distance. I could see desperation through her visor, but whether it was for the survival of her men or a craving for a battle I did not know. Her jungle green camouflaged beskar'gam reminded me of Mandalore's own jungles. Our station was better then most, we had a supply box nearby and had a net-covering which obscured us a bit and sheltered us from the rains, and I cannot count the amount of shrapnel that had been caught by it and thus saving me and my brothers from a dishonourable death. I manned my post and joined the others in the endless staring contest, so far the Imperials were winning but only because their side has more eyes. The earth between our line and that of the Empire had become a no-man’s land with impact craters, vehicle wrecks and the dead littered everywhere.
I manned my post, Beviinn was slumbering in a corner at my feet, he had slept in the trenches since we arrived here several weeks ago. His armor was covered in mud from head to toe, but it was always dirty. Each and every battle we had been in, the black and red beskar’gam had been pushed to the limit or erosion and suffered more ordinary filth then it suffered from battle scars, then again one cannot see scars beneath all the filth! I know Beviinn long enough to know he doesn’t care, his excuse always involves in something that makes sense at the time.
With a light kick I waked him, the only Mandalorian that can sleep through a battle. “Wake me when they start firing.” He said, turning on his shoulder and facing his rifle. The others at our station acted pretty similar, trying to catch some sleep in the mud or working to get the mud out of everything. I joined one of my smaller brethren in reinforcing the beams of the net above, her armor was a vibrant yellow with red veins moving in a breeze pattern.
We rounded up the reinforcement as yet another group of Stormtroopers probed our lines, under cover of a TX-130 that fired a volley of missiles in our direction. The ruus’alor shouted, my brothers fell into their positions and Bevinn snored on even as the missiles impacted the protective net which now collapsed.
We fired our rifles in the direction of the Imperial scouting party, the Stormtroopers were felled quickly before they had even gotten in position. The composite beam of the TX opened up and cut a swath before us, I could feel the searing heat of the beam through my armor. I relaxed my muscles and steadied my aim, behind me I heard my brothers unpack the PLX missile launchers. My rifle’s scope was directly aligned with the center of the visor of the Stormtrooper gunner. Time slowed down as I held my breath, I could see the composite beam charge, and then with a single shot I dropped the gunner. He fell over his gun and on the top of the cockpit.
The tank started to shell our trench and nearly blew my head off, next to me Beviinn was on his feet, but not yet quite awake as he sprayed indiscriminately in the general direction of the enemy. The PLEX troopers fired a volley of missiles in unison, the missiles characteristically spiraled their way towards their target and moments later the TX-130 rocketed towards the sky as the repulsor had to compensate for the overwhelming force of the impact. It landed not too far from where it had stood earlier, just upside down and horribly burnt.
“That was firing? I thought that was a drill.” Beviinn laughed as he slid back into his mud bed. He couldn’t be bothered with a mere patrol force, not if we have to fight mere patrol forces nearly day and night for the past few weeks. “Well done brothers, with shooting like that the Empire is bound to lose.” The ruus’alor said, but her voice lacked conviction. We all heard it, but still pretended to be cheery “Now, get to fixing this place up. It’s a wreck. That means you too Beviinn!” – “Ma'am, five more minutes ma'am!”