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Flashbacks: The Battle of Karvenia Pt. 1

Posted by Kyrian , 07 May 2006 · 327 views

Kyrian tossed and turned in his sleep, sweat plastering the sheets to his body as his body turned and writhed in the grip of the nightmare. The nightmare that actually took him back, back to his days with the Mandalorians...


"Captain Zenda, you realise your troops will be at the front of the advance this afternoon?" said the tall, scarred man with the Colonel bars on the shoulders of his armour.

"Yes, sir, i understand. I also understand why, that we're the best," replied Kyrian, his hair already plastered to his head from sweat, his helmet in his hands.

"Then i can say no more. Death to our enemies! Long live Mandalore!" The Colonel saluted Kyrian, then turned back to his console.

Kyrian looked down at his feet, then turned and walked quickly out of the office-***-ops centre. He marched his way down the rubble strewn streets, absently saluting the various soldiers who passed him, helmet still in his hand. He made his way past the artillery pieces, past the boxes of ammunition, past the soldiers manning the various checkpoints. He paused at a gap between the buildings, and looked out at the field beyond, the field that his men had to charge across in the next few hours in order to secure the next part of the town they were holed up in. The Karvenians had put up a good fight, worthy of mention in the Mandalorian annals, but first Captain Zenda and his Miscreants had to take the field.

He arrived a few minutes later and began outlining his plan of attack to his company, the 90-odd men and women he had fought and bled with for 2 years now. Not one of them was a pure Mandalorian, as it were, all of them could claim blood other than Mandalorian in them. Hence they were placed into the one unit, and were deemed expendable, which by Mandalorian standards meant they had very little worth. But under the guidance of Kyrian, the once shamed unit had fought its way up the ranks, earning a begrudging respect, up to the point where the common Mandalorian soldiers spoke of them as if they were living legends. The high command still sent them the roughest assignments, and Kyrian still completed them above and beyond the call of duty.


A few hours later, Kyrian and the Miscreants in the last building before the field. Each knew their assignment and the assignment of the man or woman next to them, and what to do in order to achieve it. Each wore their armour and survival pack, and each bore a blaster rifle, complemented by grenades and melee weapons, such as vibroswords, -knives and clubs. Each had their helmet secured, comms activated but silent, the only sound each hearing being their own breathing.

Kyrian stood by the doorway, helmet on a table beside him. He looked down at the black and grey lightsaber in his hand and squeezed it, like he did before each battle, then secured it to his belt. He then picked up his helmet and slid it on, the T-visor instantly bringing the bright sunshine outside to a more acceptable level. He flicked on the comm with his tongue, then glanced at the chrono on the wall. 10 seconds.

A nod from the Captain sent the Miscreants scattering to their positions, and the crump of the artiller began, hurling death at the Karvenians on the other side of the field. At 5 seconds Kyrian shouldered his rifle and flicked off the safety. He swallowed and then went into a slight crouch in anticipation of the run he was about to do.

A short sharp whistle sounded over the comm, and the Colonel's voice came over the speaker:

"All forward units, move!"

The Miscreants rose as one, and began running over the field, the wind whistling off their helmets. Sniper fire from both ends of the field sought out targets, hot death finding its mark on both sides, and still the Miscreants ran.

Halfway across the field, blaster fire found one of the Miscreants and threw her headless body to the ground. Kyrian spoke a single word, and they split, finding cover in the craters created by the artillery fire and rubble left behind by various other engagements. The company began firing from their concealed positions, pouring kiljoules of red fire onto various positions, quickly filling the air with the acrid stink of ozone and burning meat.

The field had quickly turned from a serene looking green pasture with the odd burning armoured personnel carrier (APC) to a hellish muddy expanse, filled with craters, bodies and rubble. Blasterfire whizzed back and forth, some finding its mark, others splashing onto armoured facades, yet more gouging chunks out of people and buildings. Explosions lit up the sky and deafened any not wearing a helmet, and tanks and APCs rumbled forwards, firing as they went, some exploding as beam artillery sought them out.

Kyrian fired his rifle at a suspicious looking lump on the ground a few hundred meters away and was rewarded by a scream. He sprayed at a building seemingly erupting with blaster bolts and ducked down, sliding a fresh power pack into his rifle. Sergeant Fela caught his eye, and he signalled for the sergeant to take position on a rock above him. Coming out of his crouch, Kyrian looked over the lip of the crater and pulled a grenade from his belt. Suddenly he felt heat exploding on his face, and he fell, his helmet rolling along the floor, a mess where the visor should have been. Fela looked down in horror and screamed.



Kyrian awoke with a start, and lay there staring at the ceilings. They were coming back, his visions and memories, and he knew he was in for a few more sleepless nights.

I'm scared..
Man, I wish i had your writing talents! That was really good! I think you should write a book, it doesn't have to be on this subject but i think you could do really well...

January 2020

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