Somewhere in the Imperial regulations it said a trooper of the Empire had to keep his or her quarters spotless at all times, but did anyone have the guts to tell a person, who had more weapons then free wall space, they had to clean their room?
After six years as a trooper no one had been brave enough to tell him that.
The room was not really a pigstie, the floor was clean, but that was about it. The bed was unmade, every free table top was cluttered with bits of weaponry being modified or repaired. Ninety percent of the wall space held shelves of weapons.
Pistols, blasters, heavy weaponry, explosives, harnesses, magazines lay in neat orderly piles, and six sets of armor sat on stands in various places around the room.
All in all an organized clutter of a room. The larger pieces of his arsenal were outside, or still in boxes waiting to be unpacked. New things were being delivered every week, and sometimes he forgot what he had ordered by the time it arrived.
None of the squad cared, their rooms looked nearly the same. Except for the two or three medics they had, but no one really bothered with them, crazy people they were, but no one said anything. You had to keep a medic on your good side, otherwise bad things happened.
"These inbetween mission times are trying on everyone, most of us are born and bred to be out and about. Not sitting in the barracks bored out of our skulls." Joamer ranted to no one at all, a baby Strill that had adopted him sat up from her perch and chirped quietly. He walked around the room feeling disgruntled, he was bored, very bored. His twin C-45T cyber systems arms/legs military grade combo, made no noise as he walked around.
He was hairless, completely hairless. A carbonite storage incident left him without the ability to grow even the smallest of hairs. He was somewhat tall, muscular, and scarred. After so many missions you eventually get shot, his chest told the stories he could not. Dressed in a simple sleeveless shirt, and baggy jogging pants, he paced the medium sized room scowling at anything and nothing.
He made no noise as he walked, one of the things you pick up after being in a squad that relies more on stealth then anything else. They all walked the same, people commented they were like ghosts, appearing and disappearing suddenly and without notice. Fitting since they carried the title of Wraiths. It had been tried many times to have the group disbanded, destroyed, shot, court marshaled, blown up, or just done away with. They did things their way, when they chose to do them at all. They had been called unruly, murderers, traitors, extremely dangerous, and even been accused of planetary genocide.
They had also been called one of the best squads the Empire had, they got the job done. They had rarely utterly failed. Things just went bad sometimes, it happens to everyone, but when it happened to them everyone took notice, because you never saw them. They did the things no one knew about, and could not receive thanks for it. When you saw them at meetings in full dress uniform they looked fresh out of the academy. The uniforms had almost no awards or badges, they often sat alone, if they showed up at all. Their records showed only one or two completed missions, it was otherwise left blank. But, if you watched, you knew, they were dangerous.
When the squad assignments were passed out no one ever saw them receive one. They had a saying 'If anyone ever knew what we did, we failed.'
Sighing softly he sat down and propped his arms up on a table where a A280 heavy blaster sat being modified, quietly going to work he let his mind drift.
In wild space, bordering the fringes of the unknown regions a temperate, arid planet sat in near total isolation. It was the year 978 after the Ruusan Reformation, or year 13 after the Great Resynchronization. A young man sat reclined in a chair, utterly bored. He wore the uniform of the Yashuvhu security force, many others sat in various stages of boredom and relaxation. It was rare they got called out to do anything, nothing ever happened here. It had been two months since he had made a core bound trip, he had plans to leave in three days for another run. His ship, a old outdated Firefly class transport sat on its pad looking pretty, he sat in his chair looking bored.
The room was military precision, they had nothing to do but keep it clean and straight, four tables, six desks, nine chairs and one holovid sat in a corner. Silver grey uniforms adorned all of them, simple blaster holsters sat on their hips.
Efficent, clean, they had been called that. They really did have nothing to do. Crime was nearly unheard of here, Yashuvhu was isolated from the galaxy, you had to get extremely lucky, or unlucky to even land within sensor range. He had consulted star charts when he made his core run, he only found one copy that even had a mention of this planet, and the location was off by nearly six light years.
For news to reach them from the core worlds took a great deal of luck, or someone fleeing something. So when the vidscreen came on with breaking news everyone paid attention. It showed endless ranks of soldiers in pristine white armor, carrying large blaster rifles boarding ships that looked dangerous even sitting still. Without realizing it Joamer had begun shaking, a weird fierce grin gave away his intentions, he nearly began drooling.
"WAR! The announcer shouted, on this year the grand army of the republic moves to destroy the separatist faction, and bring order and peace to the Galaxy."
He did not know what else was said, he had stopped listening, standing up he pulled off his badge and set it down on his commanders desk.
"I tender my resignation sir."
Looking up the commander nodded, he had the same look.
Strolling to the door, he looked back and said "Pass the word along, I leave tomorrow, noon." Turning around he walked out, leaving his weapons and equipment, he would not need them. He imagined being in one of those uniforms, belonging to something that vast, he could not help a smile coming to his lips.
Looking up Joamer narrowed his eyes, Lurk, his Strill had flown from her perch to land amidst the various pieces of equipment, causing something that looked expensive to clatter to the floor and shatter into six pieces. Chirping softly she pushed the pieces around till a nest was made and curled up, watching him with soft eyes, a low rumbling purr emitted from her throat. Shaking his head he bent back to his work.
"Tomorrow, noon. Why, did I ever say that. I should of said I'm leaving as soon as I get to my ship." Joamer muttered as he paced back and forth. He had said goodbye to his family, his Mother Yernin Tremaine, and his father Hyuir Restlin smiled and wished him luck. They knew he did not like being here, his father had gotten that same look, for that matter so had his mother, when they had seen the broadcast, but with her being four months pregnant neither of them could leave.
His ship was humming quietly, the engines ready to roar into life as soon as noon showed up. Checking his chrono he swore, ten minutes to go. He knew it was not possible, but he could of swore time was slowing down. He knew he had a month long journey ahead of him before he reached the core worlds, but he wanted to go now. He felt like waiting ten more minutes meant he would miss the fighting.
As the minutes ticked by no one else had joined him, only three others showed up. None of them had equipment or supplies with them, everything all of them had would be sold by their families to help support them until the soldier paychecks started coming in.
Sitting down he flipped various switches in the firefly class transport bringing the remaining few systems online. He watched his chrono as the last minute before noon ticked away, flipping the last switch he brought the engines up to quarter power and eased her up.
Spinning the ship around slowly he gazed out at the only home he had known, stopping the spin he locked eyes with his mother and father for a brief moment before punching the ship into the vast emptiness of space.
"Joamer."
Leaning back might of been a mistake when his back groaned in protest, he did not know how long he had been hunched over his A280 but it looked nearly complete. Judging by the amount of drool pooled around Lurk he figured it had been awhile.
Stretching he looked over at his open door to his squad leader Kanderin Draken who looked almost as bored as he did.
"What's the news sir? Please tell me leave is cancelled and we have an urgent mission." Joamer said, he took no effort to hide the hope in his voice.
"Afraid not, leave is still on. If it continues like this I think someone might snap. I just saw Anival talking to a rock."
Joamer smiled, it had taken some use getting to like Anival, they had been stuck together from the get go. It did not help that Joamer had showed up in mid mission dressed as a bounty hunter, nor did he tell Anival he was part of his squad. Being shot at and hunted had stopped such a story from coming out. So Anival had taken a instant dislike to him, something to do with hating bounty hunters. Now though Joamer counted him as a friend, and one of the few people he could trust more then anyone.
"So you brought bad news. Any good news, or should I start talking to a rock myself?" Joamer half mumbled.
"No good news, and no more bad news. Was just stopping by. I will let you know the moment anything changes." Kand said as he walked off down the hall.
Mumbling to himself Joamer went back to work, contemplating finding a rock for himself.
True to her legend his ship had made the core jump in less time then predicted. Twenty four days, instead of thirty.
Radiating pride for his ship Joamer pulled the hyperspace levers and brought the ship out into realspace, a huge glittering cityscape filled his viewscreens. Coruscant. They had made it.
Everywhere ships of every make and model moved into and out of lanes designed for faster entrance or exit out of system.
But, what held his and the three others standing on the bridge was the cruisers, white with a long thick red strip down the center, they sat in various places around the system looking beautiful.
"Good god, look at the size of that thing." One of the others said suddenly.
A huge space station with enough weapons to put up a decent fight had come into view.
"That's a Golan II." Joamer said, he had been here once before, and his first sight had been one the same. Pure awe, that was all that could be described for that feeling. It had taken him two minutes to find the controls for the comlink all the while the man on the other line had started counting down from ten. He was sure that if he did not identify himself that thestation would have opened fire. It would of only taken one shot to destroy his impossibly small craft.
"Unidentified transport, this is orbital defense one. State your business." the comlink crackled
"This is Transport Ser'nity. Four persons onboard. We wish to speak to the nearest recruiter as soon as possible." Joamer said into the comlink.
"Ah, future soldiers. We've been getting a lot of you since the clone wars have started. Slip into line at mark 34.51. Happy hunting. Orbital one out."
Bringing the nimble ship into line Joamer watched as Coruscant got closer. At this altitude she looked beautiful, but the real surprise came when you got below the cloud cover. He knew his passengers were in for a real treat.
The hour passed quickly, hundreds of ships entered the atmosphere with a measured distance between them. When it was her turn Ser'nity angled down gracefully, the cloud cover passed quickly as the full city view enveloped the viewports. Three stunned gasps filled the bridge, Joamer smiled.
"This is Coruscant information. Please state your business and I shall help you find the nearest landing zone." The comlink said after a few minutes.
"I carry four future soldiers. I also need long term storage for my ship." Joamer said into the comlink.
"Directly ahead is a landing pad, you can drop off your passengers. Long term storage is found at x-43 Y-192 coordinates. Decent rates. The shortest storage time is six months."
"Thank you, that is exactly what I needed." Joamer said as he keyed the mic off.
"Well, I guess this is where we part company." Byert said.
"Indeed it is, I'm off to the Navy Academy." Pitu said as he walked towards the cargo hold and the exit.
"Maybe we will see you out there Joamer, it was nice having you at my side." Litoe said as he clasped arms with Joamer before following Pitu and Byert out of the ship.
Watching as the board turned green indicating the hatch had been sealed Joamer brought the ship up and angled her at the proper coordinates, engaging the engines she nimbly merged with traffic and began heading deeper into the bustling city.
Three hours later, after nearly getting lost, then waiting for the place to open.
Arriving at four in the morning, local time, was probably not the best idea.He thought.
Joamer patted his ship for the last time, he had enough credits to store her for two years, he did not think he would need more time. But, he had sent a courier back to his folks telling them where the ship was, and if he had not contacted them before then to please pick her up. He figured they would get it before the two years were up, at least he hoped so.
Making his way back to the street level he began gawking at the sure hugeness of the planet. Everything was so big, so vast, it made him feel small. He should of been paying attention to his surroundings, survival 101, so he missed the five big burly thugs that stepped out from the shadows and clubbed him over the head.
He missed when he was found to be decent slave material and shoved into a inadequate carbonite storage chamber.
He missed when the thugs were later arrested before they could transfer the chamber to a waiting ship.
He missed the twenty eight years that it took for him to be found.
He missed his sister being born.
He missed the war.
Date unknown, months after he had been found and rehabilitated. His left arm and leg had to be removed. He opted for no skin graft. He figured it would be easier to maintain the circuitry without it.
It took a long time to remember how to walk, talk, move, generally do anything. It took even longer for his eyesight to return.
When he was told the date he did panic, it took six orderlies to restrain him. Twenty eight years frozen. He had missed so much. And so his rehabilitation had continued.
Date 5 ABY, Storm Trooper Academy. day fifty seven.
To call his training rushed would be an understatement. Usually troopers were given six months of training before being thrown into active duty. He was given fifty six days.
He was standing near the rear hatch of a transport, some generic thing designed only to shuttle people to and from ships in orbit. Around him troopers in pristine white armor sat with E-11s strapped to their thighs. He stood in stealth black katarn commando armor. A A280 heavy blaster was strapped to his back, and a DC-15s pistol was strapped to his leg.
He had been accepted into the notorious Wraith squad, at the time he did not know who or what they were, but from the rumors he heard they were one of the best squads, and it was a honor to be accepted. Upon his rehabilitation coming to a close it was found his organic arm and leg had to be removed, so he opted for full cybernetic appendages. No one had made fun of him for that in the Academy, truthfully he did not see many of them. He was pushed through so quickly he did not remember any of it.
Breathing slowly he slipped the helmet on and locked it into place, the visor glowed a deep blue as the subsystems came online. Reaching behind him he pulled the A280 around him and clicked the power setting to full.
The ship came roaring out of the atmosphere revealing a wartorn planet. He knew somewhere down there amidst the chaos was his squad, his comrades, his new home.
