Sweat trickled under my armor, but there was little relief to be found in the hot sunlight of Tatooine. My comrades were taking off their helmets and trying to find tiny spots of shade within the shadows of the decrepit buildings around us. They traded water, shook out their hair, made jokes. Just a bunch of soldiers on break. I stood apart from them, my mouth thick and dry. By the stars, what I wouldn't do for a sip of some water. I was going to have to give in eventually.
I considered ducking around the side of the nearest building and taking off my helmet there, but nixed the idea. It would be too obvious that I was trying to hide. I didn't care, right? I didn't need these people as friends. I was here to follow orders. That's all that mattered.
Break was coming to an end. Barx was stretching and making some crude joke. Kerifa jabbed him in the ribs and rolled her eyes. She had a crush on him, it was obvious. It was time to get back on the training field. I couldn't go without water. How much worse would it be if I passed out?
I turned aside, shirking off my helmet with one hand while slipping the water bottle out of my belt loop with the other. The air felt downright cold against my skin, which I knew was a bad sign. Heat stroke out on the desert sands was nothing to sneer at. I gulped down half the bottle, and capped it, but damn it, it was too late.
The jovial conversation around me had died. Someone was muttering something. My name appeared in there someone, dropped like a tiny bomb, ripples of hushed conversation surrounding it. A few of the less tactful among them shot me surprised looks, but most of the unit pretend to be looking anywhere but at me. I'm not sure what was worse actually. Was I really such an embarrassment?
They all saw it: my red skin, my orange eyes, the sharp bony ridges along my eyebrows and cheekbones. I looked like the enemy. Hell, to some of them I probably was the enemy. No matter that I'd grown up in the Republic since I was an infant, that I had met every physical challenge the academy dished out, that I'd had a stellar record since joining up. Seasoned troopers died with a face like mine burned into their last memories, the face of crazed Sith who could cut down half a squad and make it look like target practice. And the green recruits who hadn't seen action? I was the stuff of their nightmares. It was one thing to play "Jedi and Sith" with your childhood buds, but quite another to battle the real thing.
I was no Sith though. My heritage was Pureblood, yeah, there was no denying that. I was one of my race's rejects though, a Pureblood with no ability to touch the Force. You'd think it would be obvious that I couldn't be some lightning-tossing monster. I mean, if I were I sure as hell wouldn't be here. I'd be crushing enemies underfoot and strangling kittens and basking in all that dark side glory, or whatever real Sith did. You'd be amazed at how many Bantha brains there were out there, decorated officers I'm talking here, who would act like I was some mole, just biding my time before I decided to whip a lightsaber out of my ass and toast them all. Stars, I was sick of it.
Barx sauntered over, trying too hard to be casual.
"Hey, Gryff." He leaned in, as if imparting a joke that only he and I knew. "That's some sunburn you got there."
Thing is, I suspect Barx really was just trying to be funny and make peace and all that. There comes a time when it gets old though, and I couldn't bring myself to even grunt at him. The helmet went back on, and I walked away. Just another day in the life of Gryffan, the Pureblood Republic soldier.
00o00
My gut told me this was going to be another one of those interrogations. Oh, the General wouldn't come out and say it of course. Most of them weren't that bold. But this had become such an expected ritual that I would get antsy if it didn't happen within the first week, maybe two at most. I'd be called in to the big guy's office, asked a few questions, all stuff that was clearly in my record. Where did I attend Academy? Where was I last stationed at? Sometimes they would try to buddy up to me, to make themselves out to be my ally. "Oh, feel free to come to me with any problems." Yeah, right. I was no idiot.
On Tatooine, stepping out of the suns and into a building was like being poked in the eye. Huge spots blocked my vision and the room looked twenty times darker than it really was. I stood still, waiting for my eyes to adjust. No way I was going to blunder in there and risk stepping on the General. Oh, did I mention that they didn't like it that I was often taller than they were? I had it all going for me.
"Welcome sergeant." General Laparn sounded like he gargled sand after breakfast every morning. He looked pretty ancient, but sometimes it's hard to tell with Duros.
"Sir." I saluted.
"So." He flipped through some stats on a datapad, pausing to peer up at me through his slitted eyes. "Ranked first in the Academy in Forward Assault, Search and Destroy, and Advance Recon. What are you doing out here on this hell hole? Don't answer that, we both know why."
He dropped the datapad and leaned over his desk. He had my curiosity peaked, I'll admit. It was rare for one of the CO's to come right out and address my "problem." How was he going to frame this one? The other aliens would sometimes talk like they knew what it was like to be an outsider, but they didn't know shit. Everyone said how the Republic treated aliens so well, gave them real respect, and so on, but they always failed to mention that those concessions didn't include Sith Purebloods. Turns out though, General Laparn was about to surprise even me.
"Your luck's about to change, kid. You've been reassigned."
"Already?" I didn't mean to blurt it out, but hell, usually I'd last at least a month before they'd shift me around again. This had been going on for nearly a year now, and I'd already had posts on three different planets.
"You've been pulled for Havok Squad. That's nothing to sneeze at. They're an elite black ops unit and rarely snag recruits as young as you. You should get packing. They want you on a transport to Ord Mantell by tomorrow morning."
"For real, sir?" I mean, they did know what I looked like right? I couldn't help but wonder what they really wanted me for. There had to be something else going on here.
Laparn chuckled, sounding like a droid with hiccups. "I'm glad to see you get this post, son. You deserve it."
"Thanks." I stood goggle-eyed for a minute, probably looking like I'd been hit by a star destroyer. "Sir." I saluted and ducked out of there, feeling confused. I should be happy, right? I wish I could be happy. Well, at least it wasn't Tatooine.
I headed back to my bunk. Havok Squad. This is the real deal, Gryff. I did want this. Who was I kidding? It was a dream come true. Stars, I didn't want to see this get screwed up.
Author's Note: For those of you who may have read my other story, Fear and Forgiveness, Gryffan is baby Mordius all grown up. (Name was changed for his safety of course.) I wanted to try something new by experimenting with writing in first person. Right now that's all I have for this story, but I might write more someday. The one snippet of dialogue that I gave to General Laparn you will probably recognize from the game. It is of course Bioware's and not mine.