This is a Trooper tale based around my Trooper. It will contain spoilers from time to time.

The dark leather jacket, crumpled and creased hung over the left handle bar of the stormy grey Ubrikkian Striker. A loose scarred fist that was connected to a strong tattooed forearm linked the right handle bar to the tall uninviting figure that lounged over the speeder. The black skull on the top of his red helmet sat facing the rear of the speeder, leaving Seron’s steel blue eyes exposed to the harsh sunlight and the stinging spray from the beach. Sand rose up the front of the cracked boots, speckling the black. Leaning over the speeder anyone could see the scars that ran from his right ear to his chin, a token of one of his many conquests but if they looked closer at the speeder instead of giving it its wide birth, they would have seen a most peculiar sight. Poking out of the saddle bag was a smooth shiny, pale wooden stick and the top corner of a tin splattered with paint. If any of the frightened beach goers had bothered to give him more than a cautious glance they would have seen the stretched canvas sitting underneath the helmet and realised that today, Seron wasn’t looking for a fight. He was looking for a view.

His head turned slowly, calculating the site before him until a satisfied smile settled on his features. A heavy foot crunched into the sand as he stepped down from the speeder. After freeing the splattered paint tin and tucking the canvas under his other arm he strode over to the rocks to the north west of his position. Setting himself up, Seron began to fill the small canvas with the view. The white gave way to deep blues and rugged outlines were over time filled out into rocks. Delicate brush strokes built up the image of the chaos of nature. Minutes turned into hours and the knots in Seron back began to unwind.

Without looking he reached down with his brush to dab it into the blue mix below but he jerked to a stop when the soft, instant chim of his holo broke his concentration. He waited for it to stop but no relief came. A frown moved onto his face as be snatched up the offending device.

'Aric you had better be telling me Garza is on fire and the Senate is running around nude because its my day off and anything less will not work!' An angry glint was evident in his eyes as he spoke to his junior officer.

'Garza is on the line. She won't tell me what's going on but promises to explain in person.'

Seron took a moment to reply. If Garza wanted to meet in person this will be important. He thought.

'Im on my way.' Slowly and deliberately he packed away his supplies after washing each brush thoroughly. Returning to his speeder he made sure everything was strapped down before climbing on. The vibrant colours before him took on a dull tint as his helmet distorted his view. A heavy sigh of the shoulders and Seron began the ride back to the spaceport.

This will loosely the main trooper story but with my take on it. I felt it could have gotten a lot more personal than it did between Tavus and the trooper so thats my aim here.

Feedback is always appreciated, especially on my writing style.

On board:

After turning down endless corridors and going up in the elevator Seron finally beheld his Thunderclap, a bit battered and bruised after the last blockade they had to run on Taris. Clenching his jaw he rode up into the belly of the beast and left his lifeline safely strapped down for the foreseeable future; a hand lingered on his paint tin as he turned to leave the room. The cold metal floor and walls closed in around him as Seron climbed the stairs to his chambers, he could hear Aric down the way going through the ships supplies again but Seron hurriedly closed the door and sank onto the bed. Black leather gave way to the crisp white and orange of his chest plates and the boots were lovingly tucked away for another time. Reaching into his wardrobe he brought out each piece of his armour and meticulously pulled on each piece. Before pulling on his gauntlet his eyes gaze over the tanned hand and stop on the pale piece of flesh on his fourth finger on his left hand. Quickly it is hidden from his mind. Carefully he parted his hair around his Zabarak visage and stood silently staring at the foreign figure reflected back at him. He leaves his helmet on one of his storage boxes and sullenly leaves the room. They are waiting.

Strong and strict, the general stands at the bottom of the ramp leading up into the ship. A critical eye runs over the burns marks on the hull and Aric stands a little straighter as she turns to him. Leaning against the doorframe Seron can see the toll that the years have taken on her as they are finally catching up to her. She's a fighter and a survivor he thought as he snapped to attention.

'Seron, it's good to see you in one piece. Please lets take this on board.' No rank…this must be sensitive. Seron ran his mind over the last few missions and wondered what had gone wrong. The three of them gathered in the meeting room on the lower deck; each taking a seat just the right distance a part from each other and waited.

'Aric, you are dismissed. When I am finished with the general you may recall the rest of the crew from shore leave.' Garzas' eyes locked with Seron's hazelnut brown eyes as he gave the command.

'Tavus is going after Melanie. He wants you out of the picture or distracted and this will get him what he wants or so he believes. We already have her being monitored and …' Seron stood jaw clenched. Behind his eyes a battle was being fought and Garza leaned forward onto the balls of her feet. If that bastard thinks going after Melanie will do him any good he has got another thing coming, he thought.

'Get me all the intel you have on his movements and the files on who is assigned to her and Ill find a way to handle this. General, this is on me and I want free reign to handle this however I see fit. No questions asked and no fraking senate interference.' The general calmly rose to her feet, ignoring the breach in the line of command. A slight nod of the head and she turned, leaving the lieutenant with his thoughts, planning their next step.