Star Wars: The Darkened Light Trilogy
Human Bounty Hunter Survivalist
Height: 6’ 2"
Personal Journal, Entry 1:
Well, I don’t normally bring up the past, but I guess if I’m going to do this journal thing, I’d better do it right.
I grew up with my dad after my mom died of an unknown illness when I was just a kid. Unknown illnesses are easy to come by when you live in a dirt poor town without proper medical facilities, even if your dad is a doctor. And scholar. And at least twice as smart as any any one of those sycophantic imperial lackeys that keep us where we are with an impenetrable wall of bureaucracy and a platoon of armed troopers to back it up. Heck, it was probably their “experiments” that caused mom to get sick in the first place. But I digress.
I lived in a village called Durt in a remote area on the planet Byss. Yes, Durt. Like “dirt”. The name comes from an ancient Byssian weird meaning “victory” or something, but, truthfully, the village was closer to it’s meaning in Basic. We had the misfortune of being the closest village to an Imperial research facility, so they farmed us for test subjects. Only willing volunteers, of course. Totally willing.
The only reason my dad never “volunteered” was because of how important he was to the welfare of the village. Most of the remaining population could be taken at any moment to the research facility, and once they were, they were never heard from again. If you had the good fortune of not being harvested for testing, you could never make enough credits to make it off-world. The Empire made sure of that. My dad always wanted a better life for me, and wanted nothing more than to get me off-planet. It was tough love, but it beats getting a lobotomy from a Stormtrooper.
I eventually befriended one of the troopers in our village named Buhj, who was able to get me enrolled in the imperial academy. As much as I hated the empire, (and still do,) I knew that was my one ticket off Byss. I still keep in touch with Buhj occasionally. Good to know that not every imperial is a heartless jerk.
I graduated the academy as a sharpshooter, thanks in part to the hunting I did back on Byss. After graduation, I got sent on increasingly more dangerous missions. All said, my situation hadn’t improved drastically. I was still shooting things just so I could survive. On my final mission, my entire squad got wiped out, except for me. That might sound like a bummer, but I saw it as my big chance. I made it look like I was killed along with my squad mates, and ditched the corps. My little stunt wouldn’t fool them for long, but at least it was long enough to get to a spaceport.
And that’s how I find myself in my current situation. On board a rickety old freighter with a bunch of people I barely know, taking on ostensibly simple jobs that inevitably turn into harrowing endeavors, all the while waiting to be captured and tried for desertion. Why didn’t I stay on Byss again?
Oh yeah, Stormtrooper lobotomies.