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I am also posting interest cause I love me some FFGSW.
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Dec 12, 2016 20:46
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| # ¿ Apr 28, 2024 00:41 |
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 Keith War Journal. Entry #73. Tuesday. Three PM. Struck an Imperial depot today. Never saw it coming. Still underestimate me; may be hard for them to believe, one man waging war like this. They'll believe. The little blue-furred creature puts down his pen and grins, shutting his plain red journal. He was calling it his War Journal these days, and by all accounts, he WAS at war with the Empire. And they really didn't see it coming, because who would expect one of the trash hauling squibs to be the one to detonate an ammo cache? They were short, furry, cute, and funny; they didn't perform guerilla warfare or acts of sabotage. They were always so gregarious and friendly! But Keith knew the truth. Keith had been one of those stereotypical squib, running with the garbage crews and picking them clean and making the humans laugh with his funny voice and his adorable looks. But sometimes a sentient is pushed too far. Sometimes, they learn of the real struggle out there, a reason to fight for a greater good. And sometimes, some jackass commandeers your garbage truck and wrecks it. He'd heard tales of the Rebellion and he knew firsthand the antics of the Empire. And it didn't take long for the idea to form in his brain that maybe, just maybe, he needed to make a difference. And maybe he needed the rebels to notice him. And so it started small. He set fire to an Imperial speeder on his first day, and the thing blew up; and that was a rush! He grew bolder and bolder each day, and the first time he had an actual shoot out with the Imperials, he almost lost his life, but he was able to duck down an alley and squirm down a storm drain and lose them. They never really saw him, either; he never heard an APB for a small, blue furry creature with a laser rifle. Maybe no one believed it? He knew HE wouldn't believe it. So he made good use of that disbelief. The squibs were everywhere. They all looked the same to the bigoted Imperials. And it was easy to sneak weapons in and out in his (new) garbage truck (that no one had reimbursed him for.) No one was going to seriously watch out for a squib with a repeating blaster, because no one thought they could do it. Now, however, with the supply depot bombed, they might start believing it. It was on the news. Keith couldn't help but grin. If the Empire had noticed him, surely the rebels would, too. It was only a matter of time now.
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Dec 17, 2016 05:56
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Tattooine - Mos Espa - Outside the Cantina The bounty hunter narrowed his eyes as he rolled his handmade cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. "They always put up a fight; spine in all the wrong places. If only they'd come quietly, they wouldn't have to worry about the medical surcharges, too." he thinks to himself as his mark continues to yell and wave a pistol around. Another hunter, a human this time, lay bleeding at his feet, and the devaronian was having a ball about it. The hunter tipped his hat down slightly, reaching slowly into his coat. The crowd had backed away, and no one was giving the hunter a second glance. No one ever did. Why would they? "Y'think ANYONE could take in Gault the Great?! I've been on the run longer than you've been alive, kid! I'm almost tempted to spare you, but what would that say about my reputa-" Gault's sentence is cut off by the sound of a blaster shot, and for a moment the devaronian stares in shock at his missing hand. The hunter strides across the open street quickly, shooting the mark's lackies with easy. Before he can draw another weapon, the devaronian eats the butt of the hunter's rifle, knocking several teeth into the back of his throat. The hunter is on him quick, slapping a pair of cuffs on him and shoving his face into the sand. He looks at the wounded hunter for a moment with pity, before setting to work on his wounds in silence. From the sand, the wounded human lifts his head, his eyes trying to focus. Confusion crosses his face, before he coughs up a bit of blood to speak. "What the hell, who are you? What's your name? Are you really a loving.." He is cut off as the other hunter stitches up his wound. He turns to the wounded hunter, his face grim, and speaks with a deep, gritty voice. "No name, but yesa, palos; mesa bombad gungan hunter." The hunter stands, still squinting. "Yousa gonna be fine, though yousa mui nutsen ta announce yousa huntin' people for mula. Berry dumb." The gungan adjusts his hat and lowers his head, slipping back into the crowd as the authorities arrive. No one ever expects the gungan to be a bounty hunter. And it always worked in his favor.  The Gungan with No Name, Buster Clementine - Gungan Gadgeteer Need to fix his XP
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Dec 17, 2016 19:42
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Keith has been updated here.
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Feb 10, 2017 05:17
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