𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑜𝓂 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹, 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉.
Joseta Pro'oz, a pilot/medic with a sunny disposition is thrown into a war bigger than she ever imagined. As she fights alongside Ca...
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Adjusting her crooked helmet, Joseta floundered down the ramp, mood weighing on her like heavy armor. The Academy didn't train her for this. She learned to fight in light-weight, fitted armor, not a one-size-fits-all sorta garb.
"Attention troopers of the 501st," Captain Rex commanded, alerting Joseta of the company. In the hangar, a whole legion of soldiers saluted to attention. Fear crawled up her spine.
Distracted, Joseta took the last step off of the ramp, but didn't anticipate the ground. For a moment, she staggered, holding her helmet onto her head for dear life. A few snickers rose from the ranks and Joseta felt her face burn red beneath the helmet. It was this stupid armor. Joseta couldn't move around or see anything in it.
Captain Rex signaled for his troops to be at ease. "This is Sergeant Pro'oz. She is—"
"She?" A scoffing voice asked, interrupting the captain. Joseta shot her gaze towards the voice. The trooper that said something had to be a rookie. His armor was clean, like hers.
"Soldier, you got a problem with that?" The captain asked, folding his arms across his chest. The trooper stiffened beneath his armor, shaking his head.
"No, sir," was the response.
"Good," Captain Rex stated, placing his hands behind him. He gestured for Joseta to stand at his side. She looked down, trying her best to watch her step, having to fix the lopsided helmet again. "Sergeant Pro'oz is here on behalf of the senate to help us fight the good fight."
The clones bristled under the statement. Of course they would. They didn't know her from the next tuskan.
"Pro'oz graduated top of her class at the Corellian Republic Academy of Flight and Combat and we are honored she could join us in the battle for the Republic." There were a few slow claps, quite unenthusiastic. "Any words to say, Pro'oz?" The captain turned to Joseta who gulped, nodding.
Turning to the legion, Joseta let out a shaky breath. Her usual self-confidence in speech was gone as well as her ability to see squat. Joseta decided that she will need to request a new helmet, at least.
"Hello," Joseta said shakily. "I'm Sergeant Joseta Pro'oz, your new pilot and medic." A few unsatisfied grumbles emerged from the clones. Joseta adjusted her helmet to see better but ended up making it worse. With a frustrated sigh, she took the helmet off, letting her cropped bangs fly in front of her eyes, disheveled. With a shake of her head, Joseta hoped it would set her bangs right and that her low bun didn't get loose from all her stumbles.
Joseta cleared her throat. "I'm proud to join you troopers in this battle against the Separatists," she continued, gulping through the large lump in her throat. The audience stayed silent. "Your service is a gift to the inhabitants of the galaxy, your skills unrivaled, and your teamwork admired more than anywhere else." Joseta looked down. She didn't blame them for thinking ill of her first impression. She was getting thrown in by the Big Guys up top, ruining their homeostasis of life.
