Heyo, Tech here. This is the second story I've written on here, so read at your own risk.
This is just my take on what it must be like to be a Stormtrooper questioning his morales. Theres slightly graphic content, so T to be safe I guess.
Anyways, enjoy.
Running
He was running.
Where was he running? He didn't know, but he knew he had to get away
There was blood on him, lot's of it. It wasn't his, but that only made his stomach curl more.
He gripped his blaster tightly, his knuckles white underneath the gloves he wore. He knew why he carried it, but he wondered if it mattered. If they caught him, his fate would be the same.
After all, in the Empire, the punishment for treason is death.
4 Hours Prior
XI-4411 checked over his standard issue E-11 blaster, the dim light that was on in the inside of the tank he was currently riding in made seeing difficult, and the slight rocks every once in a while as it traversed the unpaved road towards their destination didn't help either.
He was standing next to his squad mates, specifically two of his good friends, XI-1245 or 'Tank', and XI-0999, conveniently known as 'Nines'.
XI-4411 was known as 'Fixxer' to his friends. Nines gave it to him the day he was designated medic for the squad, and Fixxer thought it fit quite well. He thought all their nicknames fit quite well, despite what some of the superiors thought.
Suddenly, the comms in his helmet came on with a low static, the voice of his commander coming in gruffly. "All Troopers, lock and load, two clicks out." Fixxer could hear the guns being readied, himself included as he flicked off the small safety on his weapon. He could hear Tank behind him, pulling back the slide on his DLT-19 heavy rifle, his orange shoulder pad contrasting heavily against the pure white of his armor. They didn't call him Tank for nothing.
This operation was different from what his team was usually doing, and apparently, more dangerous. Normally, his team was stationed in the town as peacekeepers, protecting the townsfolk, and of course Imperial interests. Keeping the peace required a strong Imperial presence, he knew this. He and his squad were dispatched to suppress an "uprising" somewhere outside the town. A good ways, judging from the fact they had been sitting in the tank for some time. Nines was sitting in front of him, fidgeting with his weapon. Tank spoke up, "What's wrong Nines? Don't tell me you're gettin' nervous?" Nines shot back defensively "I'm not nervous! Just...worried. We've been on guard duty ever since we came to this desert wasteland, and now they dispatch us to suppress rebel activity? I don't know..."
Fixxer chimed in "Come on Nines, you heard about the recent rebel attacks like the rest of us, you can't really be that surprised." "Yeah, but that didn't happen anywhere near us! Plus, didn't comman-" "ETA one minute!" one of the drivers yelled to the back, cutting off Nines' retort. Tank spoke, "Relax, it'll go smooth, always does. N' if anything happens to you, Fix' will patch you up, right Fix'?" Fixxer nodded, and Nines let out a sigh. "It's not me I'm worried about." The comms came alive again, and the commander began barking out orders. "All teams, move out! Secure the area and sweep for contraband. Round up the locals!"
The back doors of the armored vehicle opened, and the Storm Troopers began pouring out. In front of them was a small, rundown settlement of mostly makeshift homes. The inhabitants looked quite poor, Fixxer noticed, and wondered what they could possibly be hiding here. "Then again, the slums is usually where this sort of stuff goes down." The area around the settlement was slightly hilly, with tall grass stretching for miles around it. Nines spoke into the comms, "Heh, seems like no matter how far you drive on Lothal, there's still all this damn tall grass."
The team leader called out, "Alright, you heard command, we're turning this place upside down!" Storm troopers began to move through the shanty's and shacks, and soon enough Fixxer could hear the locals yelling as troopers ransacked their homes. He approached a nearby hut with his two squad mates, and Tank swiftly kicked down the door. Inside was an old man who quickly put his hands in the air, fear evident on his face. "Smart move" Fixxer thought as he began sifting through the mans meager belongings. He spoke up to his squad mates, voice somewhat muffled by his helmet, making him sound slightly robotic. "Contraband? Can these people even afford contraband?" Tank chuckled at that.
The team dug around the man's home, only to find nothing. Fixxer felt only slight pity for the man to have his home ransacked like that, but he knew the mission was more important. They exited the hut, and he could hear the blaster fire and screams. "Seems some of the locals are not as compliant." Tank piped up. Nines only grunted in response, and they made their way to the center of the settlement, where the rest of his team had rounded up much of the inhabitants. Their team leader was standing in front of the crowd of locals, an Imperial-issue ration pack in his hand. "These ration packs are issued only to Imperial personnel, which means these-" He motioned to the couple of small crates filled with ration packs "-are stolen." He pointed his finger to the sky, and waved it in a circle, motioning to his men. "Lock them up in the transport vehicles."
Fix knew the punishment for stealing Imperial property. If you weren't a rebel and outright killed, they sent you to one of the Empire's outer rim mining colony worlds. He'd never been stationed at one before, but he knew any trooper dreaded being sent there, and the reaction from fugitives who were told they were being sent there told him all he needed to know. If you were sent there, you probably weren't leaving. Which is why, as he watched the crowd of civilians, men, women, and children of all races be ushered to the transport vehicles, his stomach began to knot. He completely missed the call of his team leader, his eyes still glued to the crowd. Tank snapped him out if his thoughts by responding to the team lead. "Copy that, sir." Fix followed his squad as they moved towards a slightly larger shack. "You looked a little lost back there Fix, you good?" Nines asked. Fixxer swallowed the lump in his throat before responding. "Y-Yeah, all good." This time, Tank spoke, "Well, if you didn't hear, team lead says the north-eastern part of the settlement hasn't been cleared yet, so that's on us."
As the squad walked, Fixxer could see people being dragged out of their homes, witnessing on more than one occasion a defiant local be gunned down by Stormtroopers. Something wasn't sitting right in his stomach, and as his squad walked up to the entrance of the shantily built wooden and metal shack, the feeling only intensified.
Tank slammed on the door with his hand, and when there was no response, he attempted to kick it down. The door wouldn't budge, and Fixxer could hear the hurried footsteps of whoever was inside attempting to go...somewhere. There were no windows or back doors, so where were they going? Suddenly, from behind them, Fixxer heard his team leader shout. "The doors not gonna budge, just light the place up and get it over with!" Tank halted his attempts to knock down the door by force, instead taking a few steps back, shrugging as he spoke, "You heard 'em. Squad, light it up."
Tank and Nines lifted their weapons, but Fixxer remained still. "Was that...?" He could have sworn he heard someone speak, it almost sounded like they said..."Mama?". "Fix, hey, Fixxer!" He shook his head, lifting his weapon at the shack. "No, I'm just-I'm just hearing things." Tank looked at him for a few seconds longer, before turning back to the shack. The muffled moving could still faintly be heard inside.
"Fire!"
