Stepping out into the hall, he instantly became lost. Well, he knew where his office was, behind him, but he didn’t know where his officer was. He walked down the hall to the right and turned at an intersection. Then he turned down another hall. And then another. And then he realized he was back at his office!

There has got to be someone who can help me...

As if on cue, a Twi’lek women entered the hall from one of the offices.

Echelon immediately flagged her down and said, “Um, excuse me, but would you happen to have a map?”

The women chuckled and replied, “New, are you?”

“Um. Yes...” he quietly said. “I’m the new Damage Control Officer.”

“Really? I’m Officer Re by the way.” She extended her arm out, and Echelon gently shook it. “Every officer aboard this ship has a map. Let me see your datapad.” She grabbed his datapad and began to operate it. A moment later, she handed it back to him and said, “There you go. An entire 3d model of the Atrus. That might be especially useful when damage...controlling.”

Echelon starred at the datapad. In his hands was, as she said, and entire 3d model of the Atrus that he could manipulate, zoom into, and see in. He pressed a button, and the model zoomed into exactly where he was. He pressed another button, and the ship became transparent, showing all of the hallways and rooms.

“Thanks a lot! It’s Echelon by the way,” he introduced.

“Ah. Echelon. I’ll see you around.” With that she strode down the hall, leaving Echelon to himself.

Let’s see where deck 6b is... Pressing several buttons, his datapad charted a course from his location to deck 6b. Following the map, he briskly walked down the hall, and to his surprise, there was a turbolift right there! Stepping in it, he pressed “6” and “B”. The doors closed, and he sped down at massive speeds, not knowing of what was to come.

After a few moments, the doors slid open, revealing the fowl, rotten hole that deck 6B was. A repulsive stench immediately consumed Echelon’s smell, almost causing him to gag. Tightly holding his noes, he stepped out of the lift. Ahead of his was a hallway that led directly into a huge room. What was in that huge room, he didn’t know, but he noticed that the metal hallways weren’t the shining type, like the one near his office. These walls were rusting away, and stains of unknown substances littered their metal. It was absolutely disgusting, but he would have to continue with the safety report.

Still holding his noes, he walked into the large room. It was about 60 feet tall, 60 feet wide, and 200 feet long. In the room lay piles and piles of trash, refuse, and litter. Several repulsor lift machines moved and compacted the piles. As he watched, he noticed that they were compacting the trash into giant cubes, and piling them at one end of the narrow room.

Then suddenly without warning, several horns sounded, and lights began to flash. Echelon instinctevely backed into the hallway, and as soon as he did, one end of the room opened up into the depths of space. With a mighty woosh, the trash was pulled out into space by the mighty difference in vacuum, and so was Echelon! Feeling the wind pull him, he grabbed onto a doorway and held on for dearlife. In the ferocity of the moment, he noticed that the stench had died away.

Ah. Isn’t this nice? Lovely, refreshing air...that is also pulling me into space...

As soon as it began, it stopped. The doors closed, and the wind stopped, and the stench soon came back.

This is clearly unsafe! There is now way to keep visitors from flying into space!

Storming back into the trash room, he flagged down one of the men on the repulsorlift machines, who in turn called for the manager. The manager was a large man with a large gut. He wore work clothes that were heavily stained with the universe knows what.

Proceeding toward Echelon, he yelled in a deep but crackly voice, “What ‘re you doing down ‘ere?!”

Startled, Echelon calmly replied, “I’m the Damage Control Officer of this ship, performing a safety repor-” He stopped. The expression on the man’s face said it all. He didn’t want Echelon down here.

“I don’t care who you are! I don’t care about your safety reports!”

“Sir, this is in a clear violation of standard protocol.”

The man’s face scrunched up. “Do I look like I follow standard protocol?”

The manager wasn’t the only one getting mad. Echelon wouldn’t let some low life, scum bag keep him from doing this safety report.

“If you do not-” But Echelon was interrupted by the man.

“Frak you!!!” the man screamed, he gut rumbling like a powerful volcanoe. “Get the hell out of here!!!”

Echelon tightened up his fist before releasing his anger verbally. “If you do not let me proceed, you are violating Vast Empire law by not complying with a safety officer!!! I will be legally obliged to arrest you and any of your grunts that try to stop me!!!”

The man became silent. Before calmly saying, “We’ll see about that.” He reached down to his waist and Echelon’s heart skipped as he grabbed something. It was a blaster.

“Feth!” Echelon said, under his breath. He stood still, unsure of what to do. Fear was tightening its grip on his heart, which was pounding like a drum. He had been trained in space combat, not physical combat. Though he could shoot a pistol quite accurately, he was unarmed.

The man raised the pistol, carefully aiming at Echelon’s head.

I’m going to die, arguing over a safety report.

He tried to move but he couldn’t. He was locked in fear, and to his dread, he saw the man click the trigger, and then blackness.

OOC:

Word Count: 1,014. It wasn’t the best post I’ve made, but it will suffice! And it has a cliff hanger!

The hot sand whipped across the barren landscape, stinging the lifeless body of Finbar Bandoran. The two suns,  both at the top of the sky, beat down on his bloody skin, drying it up and causing a hot discomfort about his body, however insignificant to the rest of the pain he was feeling. A gust of dry wind blew, slightly fueling the fire beside him before dying back down to its smoldery remains.

He attempted to lift his limp arm, but he couldn't find the energy to do so. On the fringe of consciousness, he slowly opened his eyes only to see the greyish-blue sky that hung above the planet: Tatooine. However, his awareness didn't last long. His sight becoming dimmer, and dimmer until complete darkness.

He slowly came back to reality once again, this time he felt slightly reinvigorated. After a moment or two of laying on the sand, he began to push himself up. Well, not exactly. He fumbled a few times, but after trying enough times he sat straight up and began to comprehend the situation he was in.

Around him were shattered bits of metal and debris, some smoldering. He looked to his side to see a large chunch of metal, and to his brain, it looked like the body of a landspeeder. Then it all came back to him. The mercenaries, landspeeder, the crash. Suddenly, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turned his achey head to see a bantha, and on top, a Tuskien Raider!

His heart skipped as the Tuskien Raider turned toward him. Luckily, he didn't see the small, bloody figure on the ground, but he would if Finbar didn't do something quick. Finbar pushed his sore legs up so that he was in a kneeling position. If he could get to the landspeeder's smoldering chasis, he could hide there. He began to slowly crawl forward, taking care in every move. Whenever the Tuskien Raider looked away, he would move, only to abruptly stop when the sandperson looked in his direction. Movement was the most crucial thing when sneaking. The human (or humanoid) eye could detect the slightest hint of movement, which could give away your position. Finbar had learned this to survive in the wretched hive of vilanous scum that he called his home: the slums of Mos Eisely.

It was all because of Finbar’s stupid descion that got him into this mess. He and a few of his “gang” members had joined up with a mercenary group to go “Tusken hunting”, but they were the ones being hunted. A well placed sandperson’s blaster bolt caused their speeder to crash. However, Finbar and his quick reflexes jumped before the speeder crashed. In the end, it saved his life.

He continued his small, subtle movements toward the landspeeder. It was close now. Almost in grasping distance. If he could just go a little bit further...

Suddenly, he heard a yell. He shivered when he realized it was the yell of a Raider. He looked at the one in front of him, but he was not the one who made the noise. Quickly, he turned his head around to see another sandperson, gaffii raised, and ready to strike! The Raider, in his strange Tatooinian outfit charged at Finbar and struck his mace like object toward him. Finbar, dazed and fearful, rolled over to his side to avoid the incoming weapon. He bounced up and began to run for it, but the Tuskien Raider was right behind. The other one, the one on the Bantha, now realizing what was happening, pulled out his blaster and aimed at the sprinting child.

With a click of the trigger, a red bolt of energy flew out of the barrel, travelling straight toward Finbar's head. When the blast met the boy, something odd happened. Instead of the bolt melting the head of the boy, it richocheed off his helmet! A blast helmet! However, that was not to say that Finbar wasn’t unharmed. The full force of the blast, plus the speed at which he was travelling, caused him to dive forward into the hot, sandy ground. His head, already weary from the previous crash, couldn't keep him conscious. Darkness creeped over him until it was silent. Utterly silent.

OOC:

Word Count: 722. A flashback when Finbar/Echelon was 13.