Dejarik Move with the Kintan Strider


Ssssszzzzzzz

A cigarra churned at it's tip, lit in a crimson and coral tide coating over the whitened rashallo leaves. Smoke escaped in a puffed exhale.

Ssssszzzzzzz

Another inhale pressed through as the burn re-engaged the white stim. Running it's path down through the ashes of narcotics, it came to another halt after a smoky blow.


After a moment's wait, a final sizzled drag burned through the lull. It was enough, and before the smoker could continue he dropped the stim to his feet. Bouncing beside his white, plastoid, polished boots it was soon stamped out. The dwarfed flame at the cigarra's end. Smolder of heat trickled from under the foot smother, drizzling away with the calm breeze.

The man lifted off the wall, his foot still pressing against the breathless cigarra stim. He stood still a moment, the intent blue eyes only a human could hold staring off into the world. Platinum streaks dangled amidst hazel strands over the focus man's view as he stood still. Awaiting a command, he kept his attentive eyes ahead. All the senses of the being were precise in the arts of a Stormtrooper. Underneath the strong grasp of his armpit lay a helm, while his other occupied hand straightened to his forehead in a salute.

Before him walked another unmasked man. Attire in the finery of Stormtrooper Corp. standard, he motioned with ease. Trotting with smooth steps across the pebbled floor of the alleyway he awaited his gait to reach an end before he switched about. Finally reaching his destination in the midpoint between the assembled troops the ready platoon leader addressed his comrades.

Lifting his head ever so slightly, he felt the design of his intricately braided hair bang against his armored plastoid back. Years of patience had brought the hair to a considerable length. The refine texture of his many strands gave him a sleek, suave nature. Only further accentuated by his clean skin, and appropriately trimmed facial hair.

Over time the Lieutenant had professed efficiency in almost all facets of his life. Although the lightsaber hilt that dangled at his waist was not from a kill, it did provide support to his adept image. People believed he had destroyed a Jedi for it. But he was a Jedi, at least in many ways. Yet, he was also foremost a Stormtrooper and Lieutenant.

In that respect, he was required to speak before the squad entered battle. Bothawui was going to be ferocious, especially with the rumor of Rebellion presence to support the weak facade of the Bothan's Defense.

"An Emperor died..."

Lieutenant Winfield began, his distinct, but effortlessly spoken voice rose above the silence amidst the alley. The assembly before him of troopers pressed their straight backs against the brick wall, as he did on the opposite side. Drev'stran was a fashionable city, filled with numerous stylish, exotic buildings of beauty. They came in abundance, and tight spots resided between them. The alleyway was not exempt.

"...And we are here. Here alive, to keep him alive."

The troops eyes stared ahead, but their minds faded. Only months ago had the word of the Emperor's death affected the whole galaxy. Memories of the Imperial Holovision screen popping up on HoloNets brought a dismayed nostalgia back to their mind. The Emperor had meant much to all of them. Even those who resented their abundance of reconnaissance missions and dismissal from specific Outer Rim cantina still beloved him.

He brought order to a horrific galaxy. All of their parents whispered about the days gone, forgotten. From what they told them it was clear they deserved to forget. Times of war intruded all, but the anguish of the Clone Wars still struck home throughout the galaxy. Although it was only three years, it held no comparison.

"Now lets go out there and keep him alive!"

Not many words were necessary. People understood this war. The death of their leader was not long ago, and fighting for such a cause would last ages. Albeit time had shifted since the fall of Darth Sidious and his apprentice, the hearts of their soldiers had not.

And soon the soldiers united as once. Placing their helms on, they became a one being of horror. Tremors ran through the ground as the thud of the squad's feet fled from the alleyways into the street. Smooth maneuvers amassed the team into a perfected circle as they creped through the streets. At any time a direct encounter could terrorize the barren city.

They were prepared.