A long time ago, in a galaxy far... Far away..
The Empire was corrupted Galen Marek, and doomed the Rebellion to fail. Lord Starkiller and his squadron of storm troopers march onto Gingeria to kill some of the last remaining Jedi, but find that a more sinister enemy is amongst them....
Gingeria, 2017/2 BBYEdit
The troopers stood silently in the dropship, with the occasional man whispering to a friend about what happens when they land. They were being flown to an Imperial outpost on Gingeria, led by Starkiller's apprentice Luke Skywalker. A group of Jedi had crossed universe's in hopes of being spared from the Empire's bloodthirsty Rebel rampage. Unluckily for them, Starkiller is good at placing tracking devices.
"Lord Starkiller, we have been informed by a.... "cooperating" rebel that the Rebellion have reinhabited an old Xenian factory, mass producing alien brutes and battle droids to fight against our troops." Marsen, in the form of a blue hologram sitting on Starkiller's palm, alerted.
"We will be ready for them. That factory will be destroyed." Starkiller replied, almost turning the hologram off.
"Actually, my lord, Darth Sidious has requested that the factory becomes Imperial property."
Starkiller quickly channeled his anger and annoyance into use in battle. His hatred for Sidious grew by the minute.
"Very well. We will be landing in Luke's camp in a few minutes. Be sure my soldiers have a meal waiting for them, captain."
"As you wish, my lord."
A trooper overheard this conversation, and become overjoyed. He was a clonetrooper, from the 501st. He was a... defected clone, who was accidentally created using the DNA of an old hotdog chef at Jabba's Palace, instead of Fett. He was dubbed Papa Acachalla by his fellow clones, likely due to his excellent cooking. He would often serve jalapeno cheddar sausages to his teammates after a hard day of war back in the day.
"Watch those wrist rockets!", he thought. Putting some clankers in the junkyard would do him some good. He decided to share some war stories with Frank, a Novatrooper that he befriended during a failed rebel attack on the Death Star.
"There was this one time where me and D-9 were fightin' clankers in da Gee-Oh-Noses when a friggin' commando dude came up and dun shot erryone!" Papa broke into laughter, slapping his plastoid-covered knee. Frank stared awkwardly into Papa's eyes, confused.
Suddenly, the ship shook, making the stormtroopers fall face first onto the ground while screaming, Starkiller shaking his head.
"We're here." The pilot said, taking a sip of bubblezap and reading a luxury droid magazine. Starkiller opened the sliding door of the ship with the Force, and gathered his fallen soldiers and threw them onto the radioactive grass of Gingeria also with the Force.
Papa screamed in terror, falling onto a ginger snap and snapping it in half with his sheer belly weight. He threw his helmet off, revealing his bald head and ripe beard, and screamed some more. Frank facepalmed while Starkiller greeted his apprentice.
Chapter One: Diet FizzyglugEdit
"Are you sure? It's him?" Kota ran up to the rebel sniper, forcing the macrobinoculars out of his hands.
"Dear god... It's the boy..." the general muttered as he witnessed Starkiller inform Luke on their mission.
"Marek? That boy you've always talked about?" Eldra Kaitis, a Twi'lek Jedi who accompanied Kota, asked.
"We need to warn the factory. They don't stand a chance against... against Starkiller." Kota said, painfully remembering the past.
Camp Eggs with NoodlesEdit
Papa and his squad had moved into the training quarters of the camp, where they had a feast served by the local Gingerians, who welcomed the Emptied into their home. Likely because of the terrorists in green polluting their already nuked-to-hell homeworld.
Starkiller was at the very front of the long dinner table, his presence making his men nervous even while eating. He tapped his metal claws onto the wooden platform, one by one, while a medical droid prepared his immune system to eat. The rest of the troopers had taken advanced anti-biotics beforehand, due to the germs that this galaxy introduced. His apprentice, the now Sith padawan Luke Skywalker (still wearing his iconic pilot outfit), sat silently along his master, a small smile across his face as he dined on the freshest cut ginger snaps on the planet. The breathing of Starkiller's helmet echoed throughout the room, giving some troopers goose bumps, and giving some vets nostalgia from before the death of Vader.
Behind Starkiller were his Iron Fist; his three most loyal stormtroopers. A terror trooper who formally oversaw Starkiller's training, a Phase 0 dark trooper who was spared by Starkiller before he turned to the Dark Side, and a shadow guard he had defeated in combat on the Death Star. They silently watched the table like hawks, for potential Rebel assassins or traitors. They had tasted the food beforehand, checking for poison in case any of the gingerian chefs sneaked a little jarrin root into the dish. Except the dark trooper, his stomach stored power for the suit.
Meanwhile, Papa helplessly poked at his food with a fork. Whatever it was; it was green, and had the texture of celery mixed with a giant fly. The chef called it "Goblano Ezcorr", which translated into "Goblin Meat".
"Whut's this suppose to be?" he asked a magma trooper next to him, who was stuffing a chunk of deep fried lettuce squirrel into his mouth.
Though the chewing heavily censored whatever he was trying to say, Papa could make out a "piece of kriff". Papa gulped, forcing a piece of strange green meat into his mouth. It was quite fatty, and tasted like gungan. He expected lettuce squirrels to taste like actual lettuce, for whatever reason. Papa liked the taste, as he ate large amounts of the stuff when they killed Darth Jar Jar and his army.
Papa was still munching on the meat when he remembered he forgot his ACP scatter gun in the Death Star. He screamed out loud, due to how important that trusty old shotgun was to him. He killed so many droids (and rebels) with that baby. Everybody on the table stared at him, even Starkiller. When he realized his utter mistake, he was thankful the suit converted waste into blaster ammo.
"Uh.... I dun left my gun at home?" he said, scratching the back of his bald head.
Chapter Two: ShadowsEdit
What I remember from the Battle of Gingeria, was how bloody it was. The 501st were sent to detain or kill an escaping group of Jedi under any means necessary. Starkiller led us into battle, but we certainly didn't expect what we saw in the factory. The 501st, and whoever else was stationed there, thought the only way we were going to escape was in a body bag. — Retired clone
This is a prequel to a fanfiction novel I am writing, taking place in the alternate universe where Galen Marek is heavily injured and Darth Vader'd by Palpatine. AKA bad ending (or "yay the rebels died" ending depending on your world view) to TFU.