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| M.A.D. Rebel Marksman III https://www.swmgamers.com/forums/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=1984 |
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| Author: | The Madman [ Wed Dec 26, 2007 6:27 pm ] |
| Post subject: | M.A.D. Rebel Marksman III |
The cool winds blew fiercely across Hoth’s frozen mesa. So hard this time, even the thickest of the dangling icicles shook and threatened to break off and crash below. The midnight sky reflected back the cold white surface of the Hoth plains, casting an eerie silvery glow wherever one looked. Desh and his two Snivian guides huddled closer to their single heating elements beneath the confines of their small dome tent. The pair, Desh assumed were brothers, had been secretly conspiring to take his temp suit and Verpine sniper rifle. He couldn’t blame them for coveting the equipment. The rifle was a very special custom piece designed for a noble who had passed, Desh’s father. The temp suit Desh himself took off the body of an Imperial hired bounty hunter who wandered too close to the outskirts of Echo base. The ‘eldest’ of the two talked basic in his sleep. A liability to be sure as a thieving guide. Desh closed his eyes, but didn’t allow himself to rest, merely just to keep his mind calm and envision a peaceful evening watch. 2 days prior “…Specialist, might I have a word with you…?” the protocol droid chirped. Desh looked up from his mess kit, the voice of the golden protocol droid was beginning to grate on his nerves and the droid had only been on base for a week. “Yes, uh, PPO…? Desh was desperately trying to look occupied. “Ah, it’s C-3Po sir, Human-cyborg relations; I am to relay a message to you from Captain Solo’s unit…” “Go on.” Desh’s mood changed immediately, he was hoping for a reassignment to one of the units under Solo’s command, perhaps the Katarn Commandoes led by Lt. Page. “Marksman Specialist, Desh is herby reassigned to accompany ‘Deek’, and ‘Mok’ to the outer markers and observe the possible landing and activities of smugglers.” The droid wobbled to a fro, and cocked its head as if it had made an official parliamentary decree of galactic proportions. “…great, I have to wander deeper into the cold with two freelance ‘outbacks’. Perfect. When does this dream assignment begin?” He felt drained of emotion. “You are to leave tomorrow at first light” |
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