We followed the General, our one and only Superior aside from the Empress herself. As a Personal Squad we obeyed only two individuals, not even the High General could command us. Only our assigned General, and the Empress now had that pleasure.

Our General was an average of build man. Short hair, cropped close to the scalp in military fashion, a pristine uniform littered with medals, and a body that was no doubt the equal of my own in physique. No soldier, regardless of rank was allowed to let themselves lose their edge, after all.

He was a relatively stocky man as well, plain in appearance with strong features. His eyes were a clear hazelnut color, and held steel within the depths. He would be a good man to follow, to serve under, and dedicate my life along with my squads lives to.

“Alpha 0, walk beside me” His voice was an order, clear and concise. I walked up, matching my stride with his, he was about a foot taller than my 5’5” stature. He glanced toward me a moment, and then began speaking again.

“You will be losing your designation and number upon arrival at my personal cruiser, how does that make you feel Soldier?”

I spoke without hesitation, and promptly. “I feel nothing Sir, aside from satisfaction that I will be given the opportunity to guarantee you rise further within the General Ranks. I am a Soldier, and therefore do not think. I obey.”

He allowed the silence to stretch for a moment, seeing what I would do no doubt. I would do nothing to contradict the truth of my convictions and service. Not now, not ever. I was the Sword, and Shield of the Empire. The executioner of its will, and through it, my Generals will.

“An interesting answer, Soldier. Very concise, I see they have upped the training since my time. No room for thought in that mind of yours, beyond orders, and obeying them. Is there?”

“Sir, no Sir!” I stated without thinking. I was a warrior, plain and simple.

“Good, you will also be taking in another four Soldiers from my personal men and women to fill the empty slots within your ranks. I expect you to make them each as well tuned, and trained as you and the other members of the Death Dealers. Understood?”

“Sir, yes Sir!” Good, more numbers to become family, assuming they survived. I expected of any number of those given half would die, and the other half would fail. I would accept the best, and only the best to join the ranks of my Generals first personal Squad. His Death Dealers, his Angels of destruction and carriers of his will.

“Good enough, fall back in line. We will speak more when we arrive at the Cruiser.”

I fell back in line. My Squad remained as silent as I did, the only sound entering the long hallway our footsteps. There was more of course, the random clatter of scuffed boots upon the metal floors, the distant echo of the firing range along with the screamed orders of drill sergeants forcing the next generation of recruits through their paces.

We were currently making our way through the main faculty of the Academy where the lunch was served, we were given a total of fifteen minutes to eat. Uniform, and cohesive in the procedures of our daily lives. We would leave the vast majority behind in favor for this new life.

When we reached the docking bay where incoming, and outgoing ships were settled, we were led to the private sector. It was reserved for Generals, and their staff mostly.

“Sir, we have finished refueling, and restocking you shuttle for your return trip.” The dock attendant informed my General of this within seconds of arrival. I should begin iterating the fact that there are rules in terms of addressing, and interacting with our higher military staff, more so with those that have reached General ranking.

First rule, you do not get within four feet of a General unless expressly allowed, or in times of emergencies. Second, you may not address a General without him first addressing you. This Dock Hand was young, likely trying to get on his good side.

I did not wait for orders, or think beyond the first process of he was to close. I moved forward with three large steps, planted a single punch into the Dock Hands gut, doubling him over. Then I grabbed his right arm, twisted it back, and shoved him forward and down forcing him to the ground, my free hand grabbing the carbine pistol on my thigh. I pressed it to the back of his head, and looked toward my General. It was his choice if the Dock Hand would die.

The Hand in question was still stunned, it had taken all of five seconds to reach and disable him. I felt his trembling when he realized there was a gun pressed to the back of his head. He no doubt realized he had broken protocol in the presence of a General, one with a Personal Squad at this point.

I felt his body tense, and I very slowly made the Carbine pin pull back, the click audible in the now silent hanger. He froze, I did not look anywhere but at my General who was regarding the entire event with a calculating detachment.

The General finally nodded, an unspoken consent to do what protocol demanded. I looked down into the dark mass of hair the barrel of my gun was pressed against. I went to a dark place within my mind, I didn’t need to of course, but it was a practice we were encouraged to do. To detach ourselves from events like this. Saved our minds, and allowed harsher methods to be used.

I felt his body quaking in fear as I held him down, I waited a single moment, and then fired. The gunshot rang out through the Hanger, the other Hands instantly had other things to do. I allowed the dead man to fall to the ground, covering the hole created by my bullet in the floor. His blood pooling around the ground, bits of grey brain matter leaking out with it.

I holstered my weapon and moved back to my place behind General Azazel. The General sniffed lightly, and stepped over the pooling blood making his way toward the shuttle he was in possession of. My Squad and I followed behind him, a few feet behind. We were the only ones allowed so close without warranting execution. We were to die for him, and kill for him.

The Shuttle in question was an average one. Single drive core, able to traverse between the planet and orbiting Cruiser without issue. They excelled in air to land collision survival rating, and were prime examples of scouting ships. This particular model was a T-7 Drago. It was an older model, fewer capabilities compared to the last five years of advancements, but it was by far the most heavily armored. It made me wonder if my General was expecting trouble.

I examined the hull of the ship as we walked up toward it, no scorch marks from ship fire, or scratches from rough landings. Relatively pristine condition, perhaps he was just cautious?

The General stopped just shy of the side port that would lead us into the Ship. He turned toward us, and we came to attention. Taking in our appearance, the trainee armor, and weaponry he raised an eyebrow, and then spoke.

“Strip, leave the gear of youth behind. I have something special for you all upon arrival. My first Personal Squad will have the best equipment, and that is not the best. Remove all articles of clothing, armor, and weaponry.”

He turned and went inside, we stripped out of our trainee armor before the hatch closed and followed within. The single weapon I would miss was my carbine pistol, but it was no longer useful to me.

We entered, nude and uncaring. We were military, our bodies were weapons not sexual objects. The General went over our bodies with a keen eyes, nodding at whatever it was that he saw, and had us put on basic grey uniform clothing. They had black stripes going down the left side, but were otherwise plan.

“These will be your down time clothing. Seldom will you need them, so you get two pair alone. Expect to be armored, and armed more than you see these. I have great plans for my quadrant, and you all will be the first to ensure them.”

We dressed, and remained standing while our General took a seat. The ship started, the large drive core vibrating and loud as we took to the air, leaving each level of atmosphere on the remote planet near the Empire's core worlds.

There were no windows, the only windows were in the cock pit. As such, we saw nothing of the planet below. It worked for us, because we would never return unless our General demanded it. Assuming we survived our first missions.

I clenched my fist lightly, swearing I would survive, and ensure my Squads name went down in history once more. I looked to each of my squad mates, my brothers and sisters beside me. My brothers were like me, build wise. Lean hard muscle without an ounce of fat. We have shaven heads, and were scarred from head to toe as the showings of our tribulations.

My sisters were the same. All Trainees shaved their heads bald, and like myself and my brothers they were lean and hard muscled, though clearly female. Those that genetically modified us within the womb took into account what others may wish for sexually, should an operation require more than killing. As such we each were prime examples of sexual preference, and desire while feeling none ourselves.

No doubt they would be required to grow their hair out from now on, as would we brothers no doubt. It would depend on our General. As it was, aside from genders, a few inches difference in height, and minor skin coloration we were exact carbon copies of each other. None of us shared the same mothers of course, though each had been soldiers themselves, a previous generation of modified warriors.

It took four hours after breaking the atmosphere to reach the personal cruiser of our General. I would request an entire floor plan, and construction plan of the ship to familiarize myself with every inch, and begin my duties as the leader of his First Personal Squad to ensure nothing was put to chance.

I knew it would be expected, to secure the ship while not on a OP. When we docked within the cruiser, the General rose, and we followed him out. Upon entering the Cruiser itself, the General spread his arms wide while he continued his even and precise pace out of the Docking bay. No doubt heading toward a private area.

“Welcome, to Firestorm! My personal Cruiser, and base of operations and control for the Delta Quadrant. We will arrive at my quarters within the hour, and i will grant you your names, and instructions that will be carried out promptly. Understood?”

“Sir, yes Sir!” We replied as one, loudly. It earned us a few looks from the dock workers, we ignored the looks in general.

We made our way through the hanger, exiting it and entering the main hallways of the ship. It was a Battle-cruiser class 5. A top of the line, state of the art system run by 2000 personnel, each with their own unique training and skill set. Alongside those 2000 individuals there were at least 5000 basic soldiers. The front line infantry, for lack of a better term. They served as the core of every Generals ground or air forces depending upon their training. They were below us, as a Personal Squad. We were the only ones given a select name, and the freedom to do anything and everything to ensure a mission's success within the limitations set by our General. Unlike the normal soldier, failure was not an option for us either. We would be executed if we failed a mission, unless our General believed it was a warranted and unavoidable loss. It rarely was seen as such, based upon our texts covering such.

Still, it was one of the most coveted positions for any Soldier to be placed within a Personal Squad. More so in the Academy. Killings occurred for far less, butchered scenes occurred in response to being told by another student that they did not deserve the honor. I had killed my fair share of Academy recruits for implying the same to me before. As had my Brothers and Sisters.

As the first of the Personal Squads that would be taken in by General Azazel we had prime pick of OPS as well as replacement soldiers from his personal forces. Those that manage to distinguish themselves to either myself, or my General.

The ship's design was standard military, straight corridors, and multiple intersections. It was also an eight level large Cruiser, the space required to house so many people. It would also make my job somewhat more difficult in terms of learning every single point within the ship, from main access ways, to the hidden ducts that would spiderweb their way through it behind the walls.

Our Generals quarters were on the uppermost level of the ship, in the rear most section. It was a lavish affair of ornamentation and decorations. Several busts of our Empress were present, along with his personal Army crest, a pair of bloodied wings framing a sword.

He had us take a knee, an ancient ceremony according to our texts to link us further with our General, as knights of a long forgotten past did with their Liege Lords.

“You know, I met her once. Our Empress, and she was truly magnificent. Beauty incarnate, and of a great military heritage. One day, if you do well, I will allow you the same honor. But for now, you have earned your names. As my crest is that of bloodied wings cut free of the fallen, so to shall you be my fallen avengers. The sword to strike all in my way. Do you swear your lives to me?”

“Sir, yes Sir!” we responded as one, going through our very short ritual.

“Very well, your names. Alpha 0, you shall be known as Lucifer Morningstar. Alpha 5, you will be Gabriel Bloodhammer. Alpha 6, Castiel Voidslayer. Alpha 7, Azza Strongarm. Alpha 8, Lilith Forsworn. Alpha 9, Mastema Coldfire. Alpha 10, Zepar Strife. You six men and women are my sword. Your orders are simple, you will carry these names as my Fallen Death Dealers and crush all in the Empire's way. First, you will go to the armory on level 2 and meet with my weapons and armor expert Fred, he will outfit you with the equipment I have set aside. Then, you will make yourselves ready for your first mission, and meet me on the bridge of this ship in the foremost section of Level 3. Understood?”

We rose, dawning our new names and accepting them. “Sir, yes Sir!”

My Brothers, Castiel and Gabriel and my Sisters Azza, Lilith, Mastema, and Zepar and I left the quarters and made our way through the corridors leading to an elevator system. We entered, and began our progression toward Level 2.

“Lucifer, what do you think we will be doing?” one of my Sisters asked, Azza. I turned to regard her a moment before moving my head back to stare straight into the closed elevator doors.

“I do not know, nor are we to question. We simply obey.” She paused, took a breath as if she would say more but stopped. Likely one of the others silently having her let it go. They held a sort of camaraderie, and I did with them as well. But I must maintain my Captain title in all aspects, and that included, but was not limited to, keeping a set distance between my command and myself.

When we arrived at the armory on Level 2, I located the man named Fred, a short man with glasses and fiery red hair, wearing a lab coat. I regarded him with some level of shock. He was not in anyway what a weapon, or armor inventor should appear as. Least of all the personal creator for our General.

“Ah! Come, come. This way, don’t dally. Our General hates tardiness after all and I need to go over your armor, and weapon specs with you.”

I didn’t even have time to truly respond, we were ushered forward to a wall covered with seven fully assembled suits of armor, with three weapons lain out in front of them on a table. They were black primarily, with a secondary coloration of a dark red that made it shine, more than clash or blend. On the right portion of the chest was the crest of General Azazel, the blood stained wings folded over the sword.

Beneath the crest was an ancient saying, Respice Finem. It was Latin, and a truly archaic and dead language meaning ‘Regard the End’ when loosely translated. I frowned at it, we hardly regarded the end, but I was sure our General has his reasons for having it placed upon the armor. The armor build itself was a full body suit of heavy armor, and appeared mostly mechanical in origin, likely holding several sub routine systems to aid in control. (A.N for a base reference think of the armor suits from Halo 5: Guardians. Loks team.)

“Now, this is a prototype I have been making under General Azazel’s orders. Each is designated usage for only his Primary Squad, the Death Dealers. You guys, and are heavily coated in bullet resistant armor, with an external, and internal shield for energy based weapon fire as well for any possible events involving you being spaced and trying to survive off the built in oxygen to make it back while attempting to avoid ship fire.” He paused a moment before continuing.

“He really had me go all out in making these. Luckily, your strength should help you move as you do now in these bulky things but speed has been sacrificed to ensure survival over other things. To combat that we have added jumper boosts, along with a target aiding system in the full helmets that will automatically scan and upload a miniature map of your area based upon our ship up-link. There is a small lag, but that is being handled. It will allow a tactical advantage based in real time when facing enemies of the Empire that know their land better than you will.

Moving on to your weapons, we have standard issue firearms, each modded slightly. We have a basic .45 caliber pistol, increased barrel size for a little more accuracy, and a large clip load out of forty bullets per clip. Fully customized for your missions, it has a silence mode as well for assassinations. Truly a marvel to pack that power, upgrade it, and ensure silence when needed

Then we have your standard pump action shotgun. Combat grade for close range affairs when dealing with possible melee encounters. This is the nifty feature however.” He pushed a button on the side of the shotgun, it was smaller than what we trained with, and it...collapsed upon itself into a square he then fit into a small slot in the left arm of the armor. “It is a hidden secret if captured alive. Simply aim your arm the right way, and manage to hit the square it is in on your forearm, and it launches out, firing a single shot right away with a single use shot designed to break cups. Low caliber, won’t penetrate your armor.

Then we have this beauty, the AK - 99 a semi-automatic rifle. It shoots in controlled burst of three shots, able to go fully automatic, or single shot as well. This masterpiece has the ability to hold up to 300 rounds per clip, elongated storage capacity. It also has mods to allow it to become a sniper rifle, that was a fun trick, not to mention the grenade launcher function. It holds three grenades within a lower portion that you pump the barrel to load and fire. Your Armor comes with several different Grenades within the belt, stores the same as the shotgun, that can be changed out depending on need. Your Armor also holds ten spare clips for each of these guns. More than enough for your standard OP run. Beyond that, steal the enemies.

I cannot stress this enough however, DO NOT leave your weapons behind. It is prototype technology and cannot be placed in enemy hands.”

He finished his introduction, and we stepped up to take our armor. It seemed genetically linked, apparently only we would be able to use the respective gear unless Fred here personally unlinked it for a new Squad mate to take it up. Interesting feature.

I touched the Armor itself, and it collapsed upon itself in sections, where I was then directed to place each section in its proper place. It instantly grew, conforming and spreading out along my body to cover every inch of me.

My vision went dark a moment, then the visor lit up and I could see. Information was displayed about my surroundings, as well as my Squad-mates, each linked to my own Armors system under their names. Good, that would aid in distinction between friend and foe.

I went to the weapons, taking the shotgun and collapsing it before placing it in my left forearm slot, I attached the pistol to my outer right thigh, and the AK-99 went to my lower back, just above my hips.

When we were fully geared, and prepared to head out, Fred whistled lightly at us. “You guys look bad-ass! I’m a genius among geniuses for this one!”

I turned to regard him, and he froze, coughing lightly at the fully weight of my attention. I did not like the man, no discipline, even with these weapons and the Armor he was a hazard. I was already planning how to kill him, and he had learned as much judging by his now pale face.

We left shortly after, Fred alive and well for the time being. We made our way through the Ship to the third Level, and the foremost section of that. We received looks from all around us, soldiers and personnel alike. The first sight of the Personal Squad of General Azazel, his Death Dealers.

We looked the part as well, black armor that seemed to shine with a red akin to blood, and our fully armored appearance while fully armed. When we arrived on the bridge, the pilots turned as one to regard us, General Azazel turning last of all. We saluted him, and he smiled. I believe it was the first smile I have seen on a superior.

“Welcome to my Bridge. We will be arriving within the Quadrant under my command in five minutes. We will be orbiting the Smallest planet within the Quadrant. It is a greenery heavy planet filled with dangerous wildlife and prime farmland. It’s name is Eden, an apt name in truth considering its importance. Your mission will be to land on Eden, and wipe out an entire settlement, one of the largest. Rebels have taken up residence within the community, and whether by design, or accident the locals have allowed them to do so rather than kill them for the Empire, and Empress.

This makes them accomplices, you are to leave none alive. If any escape, hunt them down. I will replace the people and make that town profitable again by loyal Citizens.” He gave us a single hard look, searching our Armored faces as he finished his orders.

“I mean a full cleanse, Soldiers, down to the last infant. None are to survive. You will have air support, and a minor amount of ground support. Beyond that, you are on your own. Do the mission as you see fit, but ensure no survivors. Understood?”

We saluted, the Armor clinking as we came to full attention and banged our fists over our hearts. “Sir, yes Sir!”

Our first mission, or first objective, and our first step to ensuring our Eternal Empire was cleansed of Rebel scum. My Squad and I, the Death Dealers, moved out toward the Hanger and a shuttle. We would slaughter the town, for our General, for our Empire, for our Empress.