I own nothing but the things unique to me blah blah blah
12 ABY
0330 Anaxes based New Republic Marine training camp
New Republic Senior Sergeant Lonar walks briskly to the darkened barracks he is in charge of with purpose, the door slides open to admit the grizzled marine. He taps on a wall mounted control panel and the bay lights blink on in an instant.
"Wake up recruits! Get on your feet right now! We are going to join our sister platoon for a patrol!"
As the lights turn on, they reveal two long rows of young men going through varying reactions to the visual and verbal assault they are receiving. Most are up and getting dressed quickly and orderly thanks to waking up like this in a similar manner for the past three weeks. A few poor beings lagged behind because they tripped on their bedding or their own feet. Some encouragement from the old sergeant soon rectified that.
While those that lagged were getting addressed, recruit Jona Dune a human, quietly groaned to his fellow Mirialan recruit Phillip Veedo, standing next to him. "Ugh, why are we the only two platoons training like this? What the kriff is Senior trying to prove?"
Veedo , in mocking fashion quickly rattles off "To be the most efficient, effective, and educated!" referring to the mantra the camp cadre have been pressing into the recruits' heads.
Dune scowls, unamused at his friend's early morning joke. "Oh, shut up will you, I'm sick of this podoo. I just want to get off this blasted planet and slap an Imp"
Sergeant Lonar's gaze shifts to the two, having overheard their conversation. Without missing a beat, he walks over to Dune and Veedo.
"What did you just say?" the sergeant asked with an unexpectedly quiet but serious tone.
Imagining what punishment he would get for talking, Dune replied. "All I was saying is how I want to slap an Imp Senior."
Members of the platoon started to chuckle and laugh, but quickly quieted themselves down when they saw Lonar snap his head towards them. He started to walk down towards that end of the barracks bay silently. When he reached the end, he turned around and drew his hand over his mouth.
"Slap an Imp." he muttered to himself.
He walked back up the bay. He broke out in an uncharacteristic smile and bellowed, "How about it boys!? I bet you wanna do more than slap an Imp!"
His question was met with resounding affirmations, hooting, and hollering from the men.
Lonar stopped in front of Dune, and he suddenly dropped his smile and looked right at the young man. He spoke with a quiet voice, steadily getting louder.
"'Slap an Imp'... that's all our opposing forces are to you? A karking bucket headed holonet villain thought up by some sleemo on Republic Way to sell war bonds!
He started walking up and down the line of beds, no one said a word or dared move an inch.
"Well, let me tell you something! The Imp I know, the Imperial soldier, he has been at war since before you were karking younglings!"
He emphasized that particular point to an unfortunate Twi'lek by turning towards the young man and yelling it point blank. After doing so, he continued his march down the bay.
"He is a combat veteran, expert with his blaster. Those that remain out there aren't the COMPNOR lapdogs you hear about. These soldiers have been known to live on rancid rations and soiled water for weeks and are still ready to fight you for months on end!"
To drive home that last point, he stuck his finger in the chest of a tall lanky human recruit with red hair. After that he moved on.
"But you might tell me we have been winning, and winning well, hell, that witch Daala has just resigned, overall, the imperials are retreating things are looking good. That may well and true, just never forget, the Imperial Soldier we are stuck facing is totally devoted to his cause. He has given all his time, all his effort, his very peace of mind to destroy you. So, know this, he couldn't care less if he dies, as long as he kills you, he is happy. As long as he makes the New Republic bleed and cry, he is successful in his mind."
He stops at Dune and goes back to a normal if slightly raised voice.
"The Imperials want to make the New Republic pay for every planet we own and every second we are in power. They have and they will succeed in that respect until we bring to heel the last Moff, admiral, and warlord. So, you can call them whatever you wish to, but never, ever, fail to respect their desire to kill you, me, and your comrades. IS THAT CLEAR!"
The whole bay responded as one, "Yes Sergeant!"
Lonar looked around the bay, "why aren't you ready for patrol!? Gear up! Get this bay reset, get your packs, and get to the drill pad in three minutes!"
Just had this story bouncing around in my head for years. If you can ID where I got the inspiration/where I basically copied this from you get an internet cookie (on backorder).
Also, I have not abandoned my other stories, I just had an extremally long pause, and those will get finished (at some later date lol).