The 71st/Chapter One

The 71st

Chapter One

There it was. Another day on the Sentinel. Probably no action today. Just like yesterday, the day before, the day before that, and so on. It was TK-117's 25th day in the 71st Mobile Reconnaissance Unit. He had just woken up and was heading down to the mess hall to get his daily plate of "rations", AKA brown sludge that tastes gross but also tastes like nothing.

He had just gotten done eating(/drinking?) his rations, and was heading back to his quarters. He ran into his friend, TB-497. "Oh," 117 said, "What's up, 497?" "Nothing. Just getting my rations." "That's what I just did." "Wait, am I late? I... have to go." 497 ran off. 117 laughed in his head about his best friend's clumsiness. He pushed the button to open the door to his quarters. He took a short look at the minimal amount of items: A bed, a shelf, and a chest. 117 lied down in his bed. He still had a couple of hours before he had to officially wake up. This was just rations hour. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"TK-117 to Admiral Perox's office. I repeat, TK-117 to Admiral Perox's office." Those words over the intercom system immediately caused his eyes to open up. 117 wasn't scared by much, but Perox was one of those few things, next to rancors, sarlaccs, and fully tattooed Zabraks. He suited up into his Scout Trooper armor, and went down the hallway towards Admiral Perox's office.

Stryker Perox was the main staff officer of the 71st Unit, but that didn't make him their friend. He supervised them. It was all just business to him. Nothing more. It had been five minutes since 117 was called down to Perox's office. Tapping his finger on his desk in a consistent pattern, he was beginning to grow impatient. Right as he was ready to go straight to the scout's quarters, he walked in. "About time, TK-117." There was a subtle hint of anger in his voice. "What did you call me down for?" "Your commander, TBR-226, was injured by a catwalk hanging on a few loose wires. His leg is broken. He'll need a few weeks off of the squad. You have been promoted to commander for now, 117. Don't get too used to it." "Admiral, I don't think I'm fit to be a commander." Perox leaned over his desk, right into 117's face. His pearly green eyes shined in the fluorescent light. "You can, and you will. Now get out of my office. 117 stood up, said one last, "Yes, sir." and walked off. He now held the responsibility of an entire unit.