“Hey can I take a piss in peace!” Skytripper shouted. “You better not be looking I swear you’ll find a blaster bolt through your brain!” This was punishment, Trip had been awol for a year on a drinking binge on Corellia. Certainly punishment should have been worse, he should have been floating in space with a hole in his head from Sergeant Cosmic’s blaster. Roughly a month ago Trip had gotten in contact with Cosmic, asking him for grace if he by freak chance found a cheap transport to HQ. Trip as hard as it was for him re-envisioned the look on Cos’s face when he stumbled drunk and unshaven into the barracks. Well at any rate Cos gave him grace, he pulled some strings with the brigadier general and got him reinstated. Cos’s grace got him reinstated but it also got him thrown on a small outpost outside of mos espa on tattooine. A small weapons storage facility where the VE’s worst were sent to rot. (guard duty) Trip had only been here two weeks. “Ay, Ay Trip” Jerked back to reality by the high squeaky voice of Epic “I’m here to take over for you your off duty.” He squealed. “We have anything for grub?” Trip asked “Nothing but basic rations.” He said squealing again. Trip grumbled, wheeled and trudged towards the mess hall which was actually an unused storage bunker that doubled as a rec hall, sleeping quarters, and a bathroom. Entering the ruddy edifice and sitting down to a table of leftovers, on a crude stool made of scrap metal, he started eating. No doubt these were left by epic, they were still warm and he never cleaned his messes up. “Lazy bastard” He remarked for no one to hear. Before he knew he was headed here when he was first reinstated he asked about what happened to Epic. Everyone had said he was booted, kicked out. Upon arrival here he found out though, no not booted sent here on a tour of duty that would last the rest of his lifetime just like himself. This wasn’t a tour of duty at all it was a jail term. Too bad, trip was more valuable than that, but he didn’t care much he had everything taken care of for him, and small salary. Enough to get wasted when he was off duty anyway. After he was thoroughly satisfied he plopped on his bedroll and cursed himself to sleep. (he seemed to do that a lot lately)
RRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRR!!!!!!
RRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRR!!!!!!
Trip was awakened from a less than peaceful sleep. “ugh shoulda taken off my armor before I went to sleep” he griped reaching for his blaster and heading toward the door. The door opened just in time for him to see a blaster bolt lance through Epic’s torso. “Poor bastard” he murmured. Ducking back into the bunker Trip decided his best chance was to wait it out he was a good shot but he was also a good coward, and this was one of his best displays of cowardice under fire. Self preservation all summed up in this acronym SYOAF (save your own ass first). Peeking out of the door once more he saw imperial transports in the distance, 5 minutes away at the worst looks like he might make it out of this one after all. Charging out of the door at full speed he bolted towards the quickly closing transports. There was a rebel soldier in front of him, Trip didn’t hesitate raising his blaster and blowing the rebels brains out of his face. The ship’s were landing, behind him he heard a voice shout “THE BUNKERS ARE EMPTY!” Figures the high council wouldn’t have a motley crew like us guard weapons we were just bait, expendable. A blaster bolt ripped through his thigh, gritting his teeth all he could think is “I’ll bet a million credits they deem me unworthy of using bacta on me. Trip hobbled forward stopping in front of the drop-ships portal. It rushed open and in an instant a sea of storm troopers poured out and flowed around him as if he were a rock in a stream. After all of the soldiers had exited the ship Trip looked up to see one remaining figure standing in the doorway, it was…
