FELUCIA, BASE ZERO
Captain Lux stood before dozens of stormtroopers, each clad in pitch-black armor, outfitted with various attachments, enhancements, and customizations. These weren't standard soldiers. They were his soldiers—his unit. The very force that Commodore Aaron Rysell had tasked him with transforming into an elite corps, distinct from the regular Imperial military.
Eight months had passed since the engagement officially named the Battle of Nebula-8x103, and in that time, the 132-1st Squadron had changed drastically. It had evolved, redefined itself. No longer just a squadron, it had become something more—something unique. A new breed of soldier had been born through relentless refinement and purpose-driven evolution.
The turning point had come during the confrontation on the bridge of the Relentless. That event had stirred something deep within Aaron Rysell—a realization. For the first time, he had miscalculated, failed to predict the enemy's actions, and very nearly died. That brush with death, and the knowledge that he had not been fully prepared, had haunted him. But it also gave him clarity. He and Major Catcher had taken the aftermath of that day and forged a path forward.
Together, they began laying the foundations of a force that would never fail like that again.
Lux understood how difficult the road had been. While Rysell remained the public face of the transformation, he had spent months behind the scenes on Coruscant, navigating the tangled web of Imperial politics. He struck deals, took on dangerous missions, and completed assignments for the powerful—gathering favors, technology, and funding. His ambition was relentless.
Moff Roran, surprisingly, had offered a rare level of autonomy. Under his vague blessing, the 132-1st had been deployed across the galaxy. Their targets? Insurgent cells, criminal syndicates, and splinter factions—problems too inconvenient for traditional Imperial forces to address. They answered directly to Moffs, Governors, and political elites. And through it all, their one goal remained unchanged:
The creation of the Onyx Corps.
Why Felucia? Lux asked himself for the hundredth time. The question always made him grin.
The plants here serve as perfect training equipment. Felucia's thick jungles, unpredictable terrain, and aggressive flora were nightmarish to navigate—but perfect for weeding out weakness. Lux had seen countless cadets swallowed by the environment, only to emerge stronger… or not at all.
Aaron had personally taken on missions for Brierly Ronan, the Director of the Imperial Military Department of Advanced Warfare Research—IMDAWR. Ronan's influence had unlocked access to rare technology, bio-enhancements, and experimental prototypes. The result was a unit unlike any other in the Galactic Empire.
At the center of it all stood Lieutenant Colonel Lux, the first commanding officer of the Onyx Corps.
The corps itself was divided into two specialized units: the Wraith Troopers, designed for brutal, direct combat; and the Spectre Troopers, built for stealth, assassination, and precision reconnaissance.
From a high observation deck, Lux watched a simulation unfold as two Wraith teams engaged in a close-quarters drill below.
Each squad consisted of four soldiers—two Riflemen and two Heavy Riflemen. The Riflemen were armed with modified E-22 Blaster Rifles, now equipped with enhanced red-dot sights for improved mid- to long-range targeting. The Heavy Riflemen, on the other hand, wielded TL-50 Heavy Blaster Rifles, each outfitted with a circular ray shield projected from the weapon itself—an idea Aaron had mentioned borrowing from an old game called Battlefront.
However, their weapons were far from the most remarkable part of their loadout.
What truly set the Wraith Troopers apart was their armor.
Their helmets were a modified variant of the Shoretrooper design—chosen not only for its protective value but for its distinct and fearsome silhouette. Each helmet was equipped with a top-tier electronics suite: active sound-dampening, toxic air filtration, high-resolution HUDs, cyber-secure communications, thermal and night vision systems, and integrated targeting matrices.
The body armor, too, had been rebuilt from the ground up. While it retained the visual style of the Shoretrooper's plate system, it provided full-body coverage and was forged from laser-dispersing alloys, capable of diffusing the energy of direct blaster hits. It was also pressure-sealed, allowing limited exposure to vacuum environments—up to five minutes of survival in space, if needed.
Additional gear included a black kama, a side holster for both sidearm and combat knife, and reinforced thigh guards. More critically, the armor was ray-shielded—a rare and expensive enhancement. Inspired by the Katarn-Class worn by Republic Commandos, this version could absorb three to four blaster strikes before dispersing, automatically deactivating to prevent heat buildup and internal damage.
Beyond that, Wraith Troopers had access to gear typically reserved for Mandalorians.
Those equipped with E-22 rifles bore a wrist-mounted ray shield—a scalable, rectangular barrier that could be deployed instantly, echoing the Roman legionary shield. Their vambraces included miniaturized weapon systems such as MM9 concussion launchers, whistling birds, and whipcords for restraining enemies.
The armor was heavy, expensive, and demanding to wear. But its users were the best the Empire could produce. Each one had undergone extensive bio-enhancement procedures, comparable to those used in the Death Trooper program. These included anti-radiation protocols, strength enhancement, and cognitive conditioning.
But while the Wraith Troopers were hammers, the Spectre Troopers were scalpels.
They were not intended to lead charges or engage in drawn-out firefights. Instead, they specialized in infiltration, sabotage, and the elimination of high-value targets.
Spectres were equipped with the 773 Firepuncher Rifle, though loadouts varied by mission profile. Their armor, black as void, was made of Stygian-triprismatic polymer, rendering them virtually invisible to most detection systems. The armor was a custom variation of Phase II Clone Trooper armor, offering increased flexibility and speed. Most importantly, it included personal cloaking systems, allowing the wearer to fade into their surroundings with chameleon-like precision.
Their helmets, a modified version of the Scout Trooper's, included advanced targeting sensors, thermal imaging, and motion detection. Many wore black ponchos to break up their outlines further. On their shoulders were mounted rapid-reload power cells, and their wrists housed devices for manipulating the armor's cloak, scanning environments, and relaying secure transmissions.
Some Spectres added extra gear to their kits—smoke grenades, thermal detonators, and compact explosives mounted to their chestplates or vambraces. They typically operated in two-man cells, but mission parameters often dictated alternate configurations.
These were the soldiers who had been deemed "too unstable" or "too independent" for Shadow or Death Trooper assignments—recruited by Aaron Rysell for their potential, then reshaped through brutal training.
And now, at the end of five months of intensive adaptation and conditioning, the Onyx Corps stood ready: 12 Wraith squads and 8 Spectre teams.
Today was their graduation—their official induction into Aaron Rysell's command.
Lux glanced upward toward the central command balcony. There, above the training grounds, stood Commodore Aaron Rysell, alongside Colonel Catcher. The two watched in silence, their gazes fixed on the elite warriors arrayed below.
Rysell's insignia was clearly displayed across his chest: three red dots, three blue dots, and one yellow. The red and blue marked his formal rank as Commodore of the Imperial Navy. The yellow, however, was different—it signified something far rarer.
Independence.
Though once a part of the 132nd Sector Fleet, Aaron had been granted direct control of the 32nd Squadron—an autonomous command that reported only to Grand Admiral Antilles.
Beside him, Catcher stood proud. Now a full Colonel, he continued to lead the corps aboard Aaron's new capital ship, the Leviathan.
And below them, their legacy had begun to march.
--------------
Please support me via påetron, it really helps keep me motivated and I'm lowkey kinda broke so any help is very much welcome.
påetron underneath;
Pondsfyre - +20 chapters, alongside 5 other stories of mine. Each 50+ chapters.