Reflections in a cup of coffee

[Sergeant Tyle]

Peacetime. To a soldier, it was that nebulous, ever-shifting expanse between one war and another. You rested, you ate well, and you took time to think. Thinking was a double-edged sword. You thought about who you were, why you were here, and how you'd gotten there. For a soldier, sometimes these thoughts and memories came with great difficulty, and with a heavy hand of reverie.

Sergeant Nemor Tyle had served his great nation for twenty years, even before it was a nation. He'd started on a Gallofree transport headed to Hoth. Some bearded man had handed him a blaster rifle, and told him he'd be on trench patrol. The next twenty years were a flash of laser fire, warmth of a comrade's handshake, and the stinging tears of the fallen. He'd served his nation well, and seen it grow strong.

He smiled....because as much as he missed those close who had fallen, he knew they wouldn't trade where they were, and what the New Republic was.

Coffee arrived, and the Sergeant broke slightly from his train of thought, sipping down the potent, bitter liquid. He glanced at the morning sun rising from the window. Arcan IV...

...just another planet.

Endor. Carida. Kuat. Coruscant. Dagobah. There were dozens more, and each one with hundreds of souls...who had paid the final price. Some, more cynical people, would say the price was indeed too high.

But Tyle simply smiled, and watched another sunrise. When freedom was concerned, there were many who paid with blank checks.

They called these men soldiers.

[Nathan W3st]

"Coffee, please. Quarter cream." Ahhh, the luxury of proper coffee. West savoured moments such as these, so rare, even in between missions.

The sun casted orange and pink pastels across the bar. He wore his old NR Infantry jacket, adorned with all the patches from previous campaings, and honor patches and turned to look at the sun as it peaked above the horizon.

Porclean contacted the counter, and Nathan picked up the cup, and resumed his sunrise watching. He sipped at the light brownish liquid, and exhaled slowly.

Tyle sat five seats away, staring into his mug.

"I don't know about you, but these are two of the reasons I keep doing this madness." Nathan said, and then sipped at his favored morning concoction again.

[Sergeant Tyle]

Tyle's lips turned upward into a half smile as he looked up from his coffee.

"Combat pay, and girls like the uniforms."

He chuckled slightly, remembering the saying.

[Nathan W3st]

West smiled broadly at that statement, thinking that those were probably two of Topsten's top motivational factors.

The sun blazed a bit higher in the sky, and it glinted off the genuine gold thread of his Courscant Campaing badge and Honor stripes.

He took a gulp of his coffee, and turned to the Sergeant.

"So what are two of your reasons?"

[Sergeant Tyle]

"I got on the wrong transport, and they gave me a gun."

[Nathan W3st]

West shook his head, and his smile faded a bit. He sipped at the coffee some more, and returned to watch the sun as it reached the halfway mark, dispelling pinks in favor of oranges.

"Interesting way to start a carreer, but not unheard of. Where did the transport go?"

[Sergeant Tyle]

Interesting way to start a carreer, but not unheard of. Where did the transport go?

Tyle drew in a long breath, looking down at his coffee.

"Twenty years ago, the Empire locked down a planet on the Outer Rim called Atarra. Nothing too spectacular about it. Trading planet, some farms, a few cities. The Empire came in, and nationalized everything, took family businesses, jobs, and crops. Took everything good and worthwhile on the whole damn planet. Needless to say, made Atarra a hell of a place to live.

My family went to the capital before the Empire claimed martial law. They, like about everybody else we knew, decided to pack up on the nearest transport and ship out to refugee camps. I guess in the bustle of things, I got split up from them. I packed up onto a busted-looking Gallofree transport. I only figured out that I'd gotten on a Rebel supply ship when we reached orbit.

Can't exactly tell a bunch of freedom fighters to turn around and take me back to the Empire.

The next thing I knew, a bearded man named Rynearson tossed me a Blastech rifle. I can still remember his words.

Hope you got rifle training...we're going to Hoth."

[Sergeant Tyle]

"Alright men...we're forming up with the main force. They've set up a fallback base on Hoth. All resistance cells from the adjoining seven sectors are regrouping and setting up a perimeter. We've got the call up."

Rynearson looked stern as he addressed the two dozen or so other men on the ship. He paced around, fingering the firing bolt on his rifle. The look on his face was as solemn as the tone in his voice. The others, clad in a motley array of beige and white military uniforms, held a silent look of desperation in their eyes. Some were old and grizzled, and some were too young to shave. A few closed their eyes, muttering prayers as they heard the news. Tyle simply stood, wide eyed and disbelieving.

He had gotten on a Rebel ship.

Rynearson continued, unabated.

"You'll be glad to get away from Imperial border skirmishes, but don't expect this post to be a vacation. Hoth is Hell, frozen over. We've got a basic living area carved out of the ice, but its not going to be easy. The weather will be bleak, and it'll be harsh down there...so don't forget to suit up in an extreme-zero parka. If you don't, you'll either piss ice cubes or become a human popsicle, so stay sharp, and stay warm.

Hoth is just a staging point, but we gotta dig in to ensure we have enough time to prepare for future operations. General Rieekan needs time to get Hoth operational, so your first task is to get dug in. You'll be on trench duty for the first 48 hours in, so make sure you get a laser spade. After we get the KDY operational and other hardware set up, we'll begin patrols. Echo base has procured Tauntauns to assist in perimeter duties.

Stay sharp. I know alot of you got your first blood back on Atarra...but don't let it go to your heads. We'll be far from the front, but the chance of a sudden attack is still high. We can't let our guards down. You grunts will learn to use our turret emplacements, as well as some other weapons we've picked up from the black market and our allies."

A man in a pilot's helmet steps toward Rynearson, whispering in his ear. The Rebel then turned, clapping his hands together.

"Alright...we're coming on hyperspace exit approach, to Hoth VI. Gear up, and...may the Force be with you!"

The men on the transport began to bustle around, assembling an array of weapons and gear. Tyle could only grasp slightly at the Blastech rifle that he was given, staring at everyone around him. After a moment, Rynearson walked to him.

"Soldier."

Tyle looked up at the towering man, a lump in his throat. Rynearson smiled.

"Is this your first assignment?"

Tyle slowly nodded. The bearded man knowingly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand. You're from Atarra?"

"Y-yes sir." Tyle replied.

Rynearson sighed. "Welcome to the Rebellion, soldier. My...condolances for the tragedies on your planet."

Tyle nodded, thinking back to the past few months of Imperial dictatorship.

"My family lost their farm...the banks foreclosed everything. I was just trying to get away from it all."

Rynearson gestured to a bench, where he and Tyle sat. The seasoned Rebel spoke.

"What's your name?"

"Nemor Tyle, sir."

Rynearson nodded. "Mister Tyle...I think it was fate that brought you here. Sometimes its better to fight, because you can't get away from it all. Trouble finds even the fastest men."

Tyle grew silent, the thought of his now-separated family in his mind. His father, his greying hair and weathered smile. His mother, her caring eyes and unbreakable spirit. Now...he was separated from them, and he took Rynearson's words to heart. He couldn't run...and he realized that sooner or later, the Empire would find his family again. He could only stare at his feet in the awkward silence. Was fate cruel for separating him in such dark times, or kind for giving him a chance to rise above evil?

A heavy hand clapped his shoulder again.

"Mister Tyle...come with me. I'll get you a parka and the rest of your gear. Stay close to me...I'll make sure that you make it out of here. I promise."

Tyle nodded, following the Rebel to the storeroom. He didn't know...but it was the beginning of everything. The farm boy from Atarra could know little of what lay in store for him in the next 25 years.

[Sergeant Tyle]

The Gallofree transport touched down on the hard, permaglacial surface of the ice world, Hoth. The soldiers inside the transport jostled slightly, as the gangplank lowered to the ice below. The first thing Tyle felt was a brutal and unrelenting blast of arctic air, which made the warm-natured young man quickly wrap the scarf around his hooded face. Others did similar things, as Rynearson headed toward the exit.

"Alright, form up...lets move"

The other soldiers followed Rynearson's suit, exiting the ship in a drumroll of footsteps. Tyle filed in, and soon the two dozen men stood out on the freezing plain. About half a click away, Tyle could see a man-made establishment carved into a mountain of ice.

Echo base, if he guessed correctly.

Tyle's head turned in the direction of an animal's braying. From the outer ridge, a two-legged pack animal trotted forward, with a man riding on the saddle. He came to a halt, dismounting from his tauntaun, and Rynearson stiffened, giving a salute. The rider saluted as well, speaking.

"At ease, Lieutenant."

Rynearson's hand dropped, and he turned to the men assembled behind him.

"Captain Solo, I present my ad-hoc platoon. We just pulled out of some guerrilla engagements on Atarra."

Lieutenant Rynearson smiled in Tyle's direction.

"We even managed to pick up a local along the way."

Captain Solo pulled back his hood, squinting against the cold wind as he looked at everybody.

"Lieutenant, I asked for a platoon of soldiers. You brought me a bunch of kids. The least you could've done is to wipe their asses and pass them off as potty-trained."

The comment made the soldiers in Rynerson's platton glance at each other. The appraisal of their combat prowess was uncomfortable to say the least. Rynearson was prepared for such a comment. After all, his troops were little more than half-starved partisans and freedom fighters. They had spirit, but they generally lacked soldier's discipline. It had been enough to fight in skirmishes on lightly armed Imperial border worlds, but the Lieutenant knew they needed training to tackle the brunt of the Empire's ground forces.

"Sir, thats why they're here." Rynearson smiled as he spoke.

"Hell" Solo grimaced, "Guess if they don't shape up, they'll freeze up, then."

Captain Solo turned to the men.

"Welcome to Hoth. I am Captain Han Solo, of the Rebel Alliance. You're either here to fight the Empire, or you're just incredibly stupid. Either way, welcome to Echo Base. We've begun perimeter establishment, so that we can get the base operational. We're going to need men like you to make sure that we stay safe, and keep fighting.

To do that...you're gonna learn to fight. No more throwing rocks and Madine cocktails in city streets. We will train you to fire a blaster, and fire it accurately. We'll teach you how to hit the Empire where it hurts, and most importantly, we will teach you how to survive.

We are not the Empire. We will not send you in, shoulder-to-shoulder, rank & file. We don't have the numbers for it. You will run, you will hide. You will dig in and conceal. You will maximize your ability to kill as many stormtroopers as humanly possible. Yes, the Empire has a lot of stormtroopers...but with your help, they will sure as Hell have a lot less of them.

Your first task here is trench duty."

Solo pointed a few meters away, to an unfinished line cut into the icy ground.

"You will hate trench duty. I don't care if you do. Its cold, its backbreaking....its cold, its tiring....its cold, and it takes a long time. But most importantly, its cold."

Solo removed a laser spade from his backpack, activating the cutting edge on it and pressing it into the ice with a sizzle.

"You have a lot of ice to move. Don't be a hero on your first day. You have plenty of time to get yourself killed later. If your extremeties start to get cold, do us all a favor. Inform Lieutenant Rynearson, and make your way back into Echo Base. Frostbitten amputees won't help me any. Get warm, get ready, and get back outside again. Also, when the sun starts to set, get back to Echo, no questions asked. When the perimeter shield goes up for the evening...you aren't getting in.

I don't want to get up for morning patrols and find you doing popsicle impersonations. So make it back to camp at sunset. I'll let them know you're coming. I'm sure you'll find some semi-warm, semi-edible rations. After that....get some sleep.

Your training starts tomorrow at sunrise."

Solo cracked a smile.

"And once again...welcome to the Alliance. You're gonna have a helluva time."

Hopping on his tauntaun, Solo resumed his path back to Echo base, the beast's braying ringing on the stinging wind. Rynearson clapped his gloved hands together, diverting the platoon's attention.

"Alright soldiers...get your spades. You heard the Captain."

The twenty-five men began work on the trench, climbing in and shoveling away solid ice.

[Sergeant Tyle]

The platoon got to work in the trench, and soon the sound of multiple conversations mingled with the sizzling sounds of laser spades piercing into the hard-packed ice. A short man with wiry black hair smirked at Tyle as he shoveled dutifully away. He punched the shoulder of a larger man next to him who had a shaved head.

"Eh, Andik...get a load of farm boy."

The man with the shaved head glanced over at Tyle.

"What about em, Meller? Just another dag-head."

"Like you, eh? Look at 'im go...by the Force, you spend your life shoveling Bantha @#%$, and I guess this is a walk in the park? We should be so lucky. Frack, I think my balls are gonna freeze off. Aren't you cold yet? You'd think your mom was a wampa or somethin."

"Guess I'm just gifted with big bones and a winter coat, Meller."

"Yeah, thank the Wampa, eh Andik?"

"Wampa or not, I'm prettier than you."

"Eh, ya got me there." Meller turned to Andik, making a kissing face at him. Andik laughed, and did the same, as both returned to shoveling ice.

***

Down the trench, a Bothan named Reylo and a tall man with sandy hair worked on a separate area of the trench.

"Reylo...heard the new fish is a local."

The Bothans eyes shifted nervously. "Yeah Davel, I'm sure he is...sure he is"

The human laughed, shoveling away a large chunk. "Ever heard of the expression 'Benefit of the Doubt'?"

"Sounds human enough...keep saying that and pray knives don't find your back."

"By the Force Reylo, he's a kid."

The Bothan shrugged. "When it comes to the Empire, I don't put anything past those bastards. Kid or not. He don't impress me until he's in a foxhole, slagging stormtroopers." His eyes narrowed, "Just another dag-head."

Davel smirked, lighting up a stim, its whitish smoke billowing in the cold air.

"Glass half empty again? Wanna put your money where your mouth is, Reylo?"

The Bothan grinned. "Yeah, thats good odds for me. Whats the wager?"

"I got three packs of stims that says the farm boy makes it off this chunk of ice. I'm guessin you're game?"

Reylo's fur rippled slightly, despite the breeze. "You got a bet. Hell, make it four." He looked back at Tyle. "Just another new fish. I've seen em all."

Davel took another drag, laughing. "You're a frackin character, Reylo. You couldn't be more bitter if you pissed vinegar."

The Bothan arched an eyebrow as he shoveled. "I'm sweet as it is."

***

As Tyle continued his work, another soldier came over to see him. Scraggly brown hair could be seen under the hood of his parka, a stim pressed between his lips as he shoveled.

"Hey...new kid."

Tyle turned around "Yeah?"

"Whats your name? You don't want us dicks callin you Private Farmboy, do ya?"

Tyle laughed somewhat as he shoveled another heap of ice away. "I'm Nemor. Nemor Tyle."

The soldier laughed as he flicked the stim away. "Holy Massassi...I think you'dve done better as Private Farmboy."

He extended a hand to Tyle. "Name's Kleyfen Vannti. Welcome to our happy family. Bunch of nutjobs, I know."

"You're not that bad."

"Keep sayin that, kid...you'll wanna kill us by the time we leave system. Eh, its okay. We all used to be a bunch of sweeties, too. Just think, in a few weeks, you can be a @#%$ like me, hah hah hah!"

Tyle laughed along with Vannti...still shoveling as he did so.

"So, have you been in many battles, Kleyfen?"

The man shrugged. "Eh, I've seen a few. Oord Mantell, Dantooine...hell, I was on Yavin when the Death Star rolled through. That was scary as hell, cause there wasn't a thing I could do to change that."

"Yeah, I heard about it back home. Heard it was as big as a moon."

"Nah, Tyle...we're talkin BIG. Like, maybe a planet or two. You could see it in the sky, plain as day. Scary mess. Scarier than anything on the ground, and I've seen some crazy @#%$."

Kleyfen pulled a box out of his jacket. "Smoke, Tyle?"

"No sir, I don't."

"@#%$, don't call me sir, man...not a damn thing I've done to warrant that. Call me Kleyfen."

Kleyfen lit a stim, and after making doubly sure that Tyle didn't want one, put the box back in his jacket. "So eh, how old are you?"

"Sixteen."

The half smile on Kleyfen's face wore away, as the wispy trails of smoke ran from the tip of his stim. "Mother of Gurn....that young, eh?"

Tyle nodded, and Kleyfen just shook his head, at a loss for words.

"Look, kid...don't you frackin die on this snowball, eh? What the frack would your mother say?"

Tyle laughed. "She'd probably kill me"

This caused Kleyfen to laugh, too. "You see! We can't get your sorry ass killed twice! Thats just askin for @#%$ on my shoulders I don't need. I've seen farm mamas, I know!"

Tyle and Vannti laughed, and continued to talk and shovel.

[Sergeant Tyle]

The hours passed, and for the most part, the chain of work was rarely broken, with the exception of a stim lighting up, or a canteen of water being passed around. The trench slowly but surely was dug...and the last bits of work were finished, just as the sun started to slip below the white mountains on the horizon. Lieutenant Rynearson stood up, stretching his sore back as he watched the fading orange light. He smiled, securing his laser spade back in his pack.

"Alright platoon! We're out of here. Form up, and regroup at Echo station. Move out!"

The squad gave a quick cheer, and quickly began to pace back to the main shield barrier gate. Upon returning to Echo, there was a collective sigh of relief at the relative warmth. Even if it was 30 degrees inside...it beat negative 40. The men unwound scarves from their necks, and folded back the hoods of their parkas. Meller paced around, shivering and cursing.

"Frell, frell, frell frell....I'm gonna be a dicksicle at this rate! Krasst!"

He quickly undid his belt, looking down his pants.

"Oh mother of Gurn....its blue! Its blue!!! Krasst!"

Andik doubled over laughing, and finally stood up. "I dunno, Meller, sounds like a personal problem. That'll teach you to wear underwear, you sick skrog."

"Are you kidding? Regulation whiteys? You get a ride up your ass and make yourself a target for stormtroopers! Count me out! Oh....damn...where's a spaceheater when you need one! Andik...eh.."

Meller stumbled melodramatically towards the larger man.

"I need your professional opinion! Its frostbite, eh? I'm gonna need amputation! Oh krasst!"

Andik glanced down, turning his eyes quickly away...laughing and cursing at the same time, as he shoved Meller away.

"Krasst, you nutjob. Its not blue...its the lighting in here. And my professional opinion is that you need to get laid."

"You busy tonight, Andik?" Meller blurted out, winking and smiling. Andik turned around, and the two ended up wrestling on the icy ground, as everyone around them laughed and cheered.

Lieutenant Rynearson walked in on the little struggle, smiling at first, then raising his voice above the ruckus.

"ALRIGHT, men!"

The commotion died down, Meller and Andik standing up along with the other men in the platoon.

"Its 0500 hours. Grab some chow in the mess, and police up your gear. Hope you brought extra blankets...those cots are gonna be cold. Lights out at 0900. Report back in the morning at precisely 0500, and prepare for perimeter patrol.

And Meller..."

"Sir?"

"For our sanity...wear underwear."

The private laughed. "Sir...yes sir!"

Rynearson gave everybody a good looking-over. "Dismissed."

With that, the soldiers quickly stowed away their gear, then proceeded to the makeshift mess hall set up in the base.

Reylo's sensitive nose picked up the menu first.

"Meatloaf-like product...or the artificial salisbury steak....with yellow unidentified mash, and the red gelatin thing."

Borlun, a bearded soldier nodded and smiled, "Wow...he's good."

Andik grumbled, "Hell...didn't we have that on Ryloth?"

Vannti cursed under his breath, "Every fracking day. I'd rather have eaten Twi'Leki fungi."

Tann JaDeeno, an orange-skinned Twi'Leki woman, smiled wistfully, "So would I."

"Well, good for you, then." Vannti chided. He turned back, to Tyle. "Hey Nemor...wanna be a hero? Get the first helping! Skim that @#%$ off the top, so we can eat the rest."

Tyle shrugged. "Sure thing...I'm starved."

The platoon formed up into a line in the mess hall...the attendant droids serving them perfectly metered mounds of glop and other food rations, efficiently dispensing nutrition to all. The soldiers found places to sit. Some ate up...some made faces at their food. Nobody had the indignation to pass up on the food, no matter how bad it was. You never knew if the meal would be your last. Tyle dug right in.

"Hey, its not that bad, fellas."

"Don't tell me your mama's cornbread is that bad, Tyle" Devel smiled as he shoveled a lump of gelatin into his mouth.

"Mom always cooked good food. Its better than this, but this isn't terrible." Tyle smiled...but the smile started to fade. "I hope mama cooks for me again someday."

The table grew silent, as nobody could find a wisecrack to pass the painful silence. They looked around, and indeed, half of the platoon were a bunch of kids. The icebreakers came in waves.

"Don't worry" Vannti said

"You'll see her again." JaDeeno consoled.

"Eh, forgettaboutit" quipped Meller. Andik simply slapped Tyle on the back knowingly, and everyone resumed eating. The crap tasted bad, but it only got worse if you let it get cold.

[Sergeant Tyle]

The meal went by fairly quickly. Grunts learn to eat quickly, as you try to feed your face as much as possible before you're diving back into a foxhole. Time is money, but time is also survival. If you weren't lock & load full-time, you were a casualty. Tyle had to play catch-up to the others, who ate like there was no tomorrow. The platoon quickly policed up dirty dishes and garbage, and filed out of the mess hall, to the troop quarters. Rynearson was right...the accomodations were meager at best. The room was vast and cavernous, with as many metal-framed standard-issue cots spread on the floor as surface area would permit. The platoon made their way to the first open section, removing coverings and blankets from their packs as they prepared to dig in for the night. All around them, other various infantry units were doing the same. There were roughly a thousand troops at Echo, Tyle guessed. Given that there were about 300 people crammed into this ice cave, which was labeled "Charlie quarters". Who knew...maybe it was more than a thousand.

Vannti took the cot to Tyle's right, spreading out his blankets like he'd practiced it blindfolded. The soldier lay on his cot, propped up by his equipment pack as he thumbed through a magazine of some sorts. Glancing left, Tyle noted that Reylo had taken residence beside him, his fur ruffling in a way that told him it wasn't a voluntary choice. Sensing an uncomfortable situation, Tyle attempted to break the ice.

"Reylo?"

The Bothan didn't turn his head. "I'm sure you're used to home-cooking and hospitality, Tyle...but I don't play that way." He turned towards Nemor. "You got a lot to prove before we get to 'buddy-buddy'."

Tyle was confused. "Reylo...have I done something wrong?"

"No, kid. You haven't done anything yet. Thats why I don't trust you. You're just some outer-rim hayseed that stumbled onto our transport. Why? Whats the frackin backstory?"

JaDeeno mumbled to Reylo's left as she bedded down, "Reylo, get off the witch hunt."

He turned, "Why don't you bite a Hutt, JaDeeno. I ain't accusin him of anything...just don't trust him."

"He's in it like we are."

"That remains to be seen. I haven't seen Farmboy do a damn thing except shovel snow. He might be one of those closet cases who snaps and shoots me in the ass when we're dug in."

"Like we haven't all thought about shooting you in the ass, Reylo."

"Yeah, but thats premeditated, and I can live with that. I ain't gonna live with some snot-nosed plowboy who goes all spook on us. Hell, I've seen it before. Glazey eyes, shaky hands...soon, everything that moves looks like a stormtrooper."

"You haven't even given him the chance to prove otherwise."

"Oh, I'm sure it'll come...just make sure he's in your foxhole, and not mine." Reylo turned back to Tyle, suddenly aware he was directly insulting the kid in his presence. His fur ruffled, as he tried to think of something to say. "Krasst...I'm sure you're a good kid and all. Just...this war ain't right for good kids. Hell, and you shouldn't even get the chance to understand what I'm talkin about. It ain't fair to you, and it sure as hell ain't fair to me. Just...forget it. Don't shoot me in the ass, and its water under the bridge, copy?"

Tyle nodded, as Reylo slid under his covers, muttering himself to sleep. JaDeeno glanced over at Tyle.

"Tyle...don't worry, he's like this with all the greenies. Shoot a few stormies...and he'll warm up."

Tyle shrugged a little. "I guess I can understand. Its all new to me, and I know you don't know me. I'm not mad."

JaDeeno smiled. "Well, it never hurt to kick anybody's ass, you know. We're all privates...you're not pulling rank." She giggled. Tyle just kinda smirked, leaning back on his cot as the Twi'Lek went to sleep. Vannti nudged Tyle on the arm, passing the magazine.

"Hey Tyle" He said, his voice low, "Check out the tits on her."

Tyle took the magazine, and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of the bare-chested blue Twi'Lek on the glossy paper.

"Not bad at all...nice flexibility"

"Heh, tell me about it...she could go around me more times than a hula hoop. Makes me wish we got shore leave passes."

Tyle flipped a few pages, talking to Vannti. "Kleyfen...how long have you been...you know?"

"Four years, two months, and twenty one days." He said, without batting an eye.

"Exactly?"

"You want the hours and minutes, too?"

"No..no thanks." Tyle shifted on his cot. "What did you do...you know, before all this?"

Vannti smiled. "Before the Rebellion?"

"Yeah"

"You didn't know? I was formed in a spaarti cyllinder using an old Mandalorian, a Cizerack, two freckers, and a Rancor's dick."

Tyle laughed out loud, quickly quieting himself to keep from waking others. "Really? What does that make you, then?"

"A grade-A bastard."

"You sure do like that image, don't you?"

Vannti smiled, sitting up slightly. "Yeah...yeah I do. Makes me feel indestructible...invincible, you know. Makes me forget that I could just as easily end up like all the other poor bastards I've seen go. Mark my words...you won't have your plowboy manners for long out here."

"I guess not...but things change, so I'm ready for anything."

"No you're not, kid. Don't say that." Vannti closed his eyes. "Just...don't make this into what it isn't. I've seen starry-eyed hero wannabes @#%$ their pants the first time they hear blaster fire. The real heroes are the average, tight-lipped schmoes nobody hears about. The guy in the back line of your squad that nobody talks to. You're in the @#%$, guns blazing, displacing rounds left and right, and he bowls you over to dive on a concussion grenade in your foxhole. Poor bastard is gone in a flash. He gave you everything, and you didn't even know his name. Private John Doe, for all you knew."

Vannti's eyes began to waver, moisture full on the corneas. "This...this ain't no movie. The only thing romantic about it is that one day...I won't have to fight anymore." Vannti turned to Tyle, smiling wanly. "We're all gonna make it at least that far. Yourself included. So keep those hero ideas out of your head. You watch my ass, and I'll watch yours. Maybe we'll have families, and our kids'll play together."

"Who'd wanna play with a Rancor dick?"

Vannti laughed, "Good point, Tyle...probably a Farmboy"

Both men laughed, as Lieutenant Rynearson entered Charlie quarters.

"Alright platoon. Shut up, get some sleep."

The soldiers slid down in their cots in unison. Rynearson walked over to Vannti's cot.

"Private?"

"Sir?"

"Can I have a word with you?"

"Yessir."

Kleyven rose from his cot silently, and followed Rynearson out of the room. They stood silently for a while, in the ice-carved hallway. Rynearson spoke first.

"How are we holding up, private?"

"Same as always, sir."

Rynearson nodded. "Morale okay?"

"Is it ever? We've been on the run for three years."

"Yeah....yeah, I know. I know." Rynearson took his time. "Did Sergeant Holk report in on the other transport?"

Vannti sighed deeply. "No sir. I...didn't see him after we cleared that warehouse. But we took so much crossfire from that -ST, I don't...." He shook his head. He didn't have the words to say what he didn't want to say.

"Thats what I thought. Just wish I had some dogtags in my hand, to tell me for sure. Its the not knowing thats eating me."

"Me too, sir. I...my squad...we stayed downtown as long as the transport would let us. I had Quorez screaming on the comm that he wasn't gonna risk a TIE strafing. He could kiss my ass. I wasn't gonna leave until I had him, I said. But...we just...took too much fire. Too much fire. The transport couldn't stay in. Quorez is a good guy, he gave us as much time as we could get. I just...couldn't link up with Sarge again."

Rynearson placed a hand on Vannti's shoulder, nodding. "Nobody could've asked for more from you."

"Except to bring him outta that @#%$."

"Not even that. Sergent Holk knew what he was getting into. You all did. Atarra was a powderkeg."

"So we trade out Holk for Tyle? Is that fair?"

Rynearson looked Vannti in the eye. "No. Its not fair. This war isn't fair. If it were fair, it would be over. And its definitely not fair to lay this on Tyle. What did he do to deserve this? He had to live there."

"I know, I know...I didn't mean it like that."

"I know you didn't, Private. Its okay." Rynearson stood up slightly, rubbing his temples. "So, where does that leave the platoon?"

Vannti looked up from his crouching position. "One lieutenant, and about a baker's dozen privates."

"Give or take?"

"Yeah...I forgot the headcount. With Tyle...should make 26, right?"

"Right."

"We need a new Sergeant."

"Preachin to the choir, but we lost three in the past six weeks. It ain't exactly a pretty job opportunity."

"Yeah...but we need one. If we break down into squads, I need somebody to back my play."

"Your call, sir. I'm with you."

"Alright. You're promoted."

Vannti stood up. "Changed my mind."

Rynearson pointed at him. "You've got the experience, and you're the most seasoned out of the bunch. You should've gotten the nod a year ago."

"It ain't my style. Brass makes ya sniper bait."

"My platoon needs you, Vannti. Hell, I need you. We all do. I don't know if you've noticed, but this place is gearing down for a firefight. I've got nothing but the runaround from CO, but it doesn't take a hyperspace scientist to know that the Empire could be knocking on our door any day. This isn't hit & run anymore. Its the big time."

Vannti said nothing....just tapped his foot to break a long silence as he thought it over.

"Sergeant Vannti....heh, I sound like an @#%$ already."

Rynearson smiled. "I knew you'd like it."

Vannti gave a lopsided grin as he lit up a stim. "So, what are my orders then, sir?"

"Well...we still got dawn patrol at 0500, so make sure we're all together. Gear the troops up, make sure everybody's ready. But...I have a special request. Keep in mind...its just a request."

"Yes sir?" Vannti puffed away a cloud of smoke.

"Whatever happens. Get Tyle the hell off this snowball."

Vannti smiled, and nodded. "Precisely my intentions, sir."

Rynearson nodded. "Glad we're on the same page then." He walked away. "Lights out, Sarge. See you at 0500."

Vannti watched the Lieutenant leave, leaning against the wall, and exhaling a waft of smoke.

"On the same page..."

[Sergeant Tyle]

0500 hours came, and with it, deployment. Sleepy-eyed soldiers roused themselves from their cots, suiting up and assembling in Echo base's main hangar. All around them, snowspeeders and various other craft were being repaired and tested, as well as weapon systems. Lieutenant Rynearson was punctual as always.

"Platoon...form up!" He barked.

The rag-tag squad of troops assembled into a line. JaDeeno shivered, wrapping her lekku around her neck like a fleshy scarf. Reylo's fur ruffled in a manner that showed his displeasure at the early morning chill. Aside from this, the other soldiers braved the cold in other ways. Rynearson passed around a canteen of coffee, each soldier taking a few small sips. Rynearson continued.

"Echo command has set aside several perimeter waypoints for us to patrol. The shield wall will be going down in 3 minutes, and we'll be heading out. The speeders aren't calibrated for the extreme cold yet, so we're relying on foot scouts. That's where you come in. We're patroling a 10 mile perimeter. Halfway through, we'll stop at hill Bravo Fox 3, for a little live-fire exercise. Should be a walk in the park. Don't slip on your gun and blow your head off."

The platoon laughed slightly, and Rynearson pressed on.

"No questions? Alright...lets move out"

The platoon headed out into the icy blasting air of the Hoth countryside. Immediately, the frosty gusts were met with curses from Andik, who quickly lit a stim, sticking it between his lips.

"Top of the frakkin mornin to all of you bastards!" He jeered.

Meller similarly lit up a stim. "Krasst...and I thought yesterday was cold."

Tyle wrapped his scarf and balaclava tight around his neck, breathing into gloved hands for warmth. Sergeant Vannti came up from behind.

"Tyle, don't slow your pace...we gotta make the first waypoint in 20 minutes."

Tyle tucked his hands into his pockets, nodding. "Y-yes sir...it f-freezing out here."

"Just wrap up tight...think of large, warm women."

Rynearson kept at the front of the platoon.

"Alright squad, keep your eyes peeled. First thing you see that isn't ice...speak up."