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A New Face- FA Trevor Rastyn
Guard duty was nothing extravagant. The life was far from fun, and all aspects of it were non-negotiable. It was alot like the life of a Jedi. From the ranks of the Stormtroopers, the best were given the option to serve the Emperor directly. On Yichannor, the select few would train to become the Imperial Guardsmen. The flowing, blood red robes hid the sharp, black and red armour of some of the most dangerous men in the galaxy. Thier skills, next to the Jedi, were unmatched. From blasters to their bare hands, they were lethal, and evey last guard had sworn thier life to protect one man. One such guard was, Trevor Rastyn.
"Behind you!!" Trevor yelled as a fellow guard turned and dodged the butt end of a blaster. With his blade, he retaliated and removed the Rebels arm just below the shoulder. Trevor did not know how the Rebels found Palpatine, but they had. The facility on Manror IV was small and on the fringe of the core systems. The Emperor wanted to personaly inspect the new prototype for the next genaration of TIEs. And the Rebels struck. A small task force attacked, to capture or kill Palpatine, Trevor did not know. He also did not care, they were to be eliminated. Within five minutes of the attack, the Guard had foiled the Rebels and barely broke a sweat. Some days one wondered if Palpatine cared for his men, wether thier service was truely appreciated. They were never treated unfairly, provided they followed orders without question.
"This facility is a vital asset to the Empire. I want it's security doubled before the end of the week." Vader said. Standing across from him, Trevor looked at the Dark Lord.
"Yes Lord Vader." The officer said.
"Guards." Palpatine started. "To my shuttle." Trevor and two others headed straight outside and waited in front of the ship. The other three followed Palpatine outside moments later, and lined up as the Emperor boarded his ship. As the engines powered up and the guards boared behind Vader, a comotion could be heard from the building. Trevor looked behind and could hear blasters and shouting as some bruised Rebels were chased out by Imperial officers and other staff. Pausing and looking back at the comotion, Trevor ignored it, turned around and walked up the ramp. He was half way up the ramp, when from behind, at the base of his spine, he felt a sharp pain and fell face first to the deck. Though thier names were not spoken, his freinds and fellow guards helped him into the shuttle. In the back, they sat Trevor down and removed his cloak. Under his armour, his back was burned and bleeding. The rouge blaster shot had made its way through a joint in Trevors armour, a shot that could probably never be duplicated. Looking up at Palpatine, Trevor said nothing.
"You're injured, Guard?" Trevor took a deep breath. An injured guard is like an injured animal.
"No Sire. I'm fine." Trevor struggled to sit up.
"That's a poor attempt to decive me." Trevors heart was racing. "You will not lie to me, Guard." Trevor was waiting to become short of breath.
"Why would I lie to you, Master?" Trevor said as he coughed, thinking it was the Emperor taking his breath away, when it was his kidney, bleeding internally.
"You can't even walk." The Emperor said with a sneer. "You can no longer serve the Empire."
"No Sire, I will still serve the Empire." Trevor said with confidance. "I will still serve you." Palpatine was moving away, but paused.
"Very well, but you are still no longer fit to be my Guard." The words rang through Trevors mind for years after that. From the hospital that he rehabilitated in for six months, to the Amoured Division he was placed in, and fought with on Hoth and Endor during the final battles of the Empire and Rebellion. After the fall of the Empire that Trevor and everyone knew, he left the ranks of foot soldiers and became a pilot with the Infiltrator Wing, also taking medical training to become IW Primary Medical Officer.
"Welcome aboard Mr. Rastyn." Admiral Maverick said.
"Thank you." Trevor replied, as he picked up his bag and made his way out of the hangar. "How'd you come to need a new PMO?" Maverick looked over at Trevor.
"A few roster changes..." Maverick paused, and Trevor picked up on it.
"...and?" He asked.
"We'll leave it at that." The IW Commander said as the two men approached the lift outside the hangar. Later inside his new office, Trevor was greeted by the medical droid.
"Hello sir." It said.
"2-1B, right?" Trevor asked.
"Yes sir, medical protocol assistant. I'm looking forward to working with you. Do you have a Doctor for the Warspite yet?" Trevor looked up at the droid.
"No... there isn't a Doc for this ship?" The droid twiched and moved its position.
"Unfortunatly, no sir. Not since Lieutenant Sylarr passed away." Trevor sat back.
"Passed away? In combat?" He asked.
"I'm sorry sir, that information has been made classified to me." The droid turned around to leave. "I don't know if the pilots know, but perhaps someone may be able to answer your question." The driod said as he left the office, and Trevor turned around and looked out his window.
"So this is what a desk job is like?" He said quietly.
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