Burton's Chapter Two

[Munro Burton]

The plan. First, make sure there aren't any listening devices in our cell. It does help if our enemies can't hear us plotting to escape. There, a crude and rather antiquated device set into the wall. Now, to disable it or leave it there in an attempt to mislead our captors?

"Shut up, twenty-two thirty!" I growl. "His Imperial Majesty's dead, three times over now. And he definitely isn't 'art in Coruscant,' you sanctimonious shik."

A look of hurt and anger came over his face, but only momentarily. We never used each other's numbers to address each other, unless some hard-ass Sergeant or officer was around. Never. "You swine! I always thought you were a traitor!" he cried as he threw a punch at my face.

It hurt, but would leave a nice bruise and we had been trained to cope with pain. And provided a pretext for a little fight, in which the listening device was disabled, to understate the vicious elbow smash which took care of it.

"The guards will be along shortly. As I see it, we've got a few options here. We can try to escape, finding a pilot to take with us. Or we can try to get to a holonet station and send a message to the Empire for a rescue operation. Considering that we're just two lowly troopers, I think the former is the only realistic choice."

"If you pretend to defect, you might be able to lower their guard enough to set this up, especially if I'm causing trouble all along."

"Let's do it." I cock my head, listening, then threw my fellow prisoner to the floor. "They're coming."

The fight resumed.

When the guards rushed in, wielding their stun batons, we were both in the midst of haranguing each other about our affiliation. To him, I was 'stupid moronic alien-loving rebel bugslut scum' and to me, he was 'Force-forsaken human supremacist sithspawn.'

Both of us got stunned, of course. Even in Rebel prisons, the bedrock is order. Chaos is something to be exterminated with all vigor. I guess they dragged us off to solitary confinement, since I woke up in a smaller and darker cell. At least they'd left a tray of food in here for me. Mmm, Rebel prison rations. Slightly better than the Legion's e-rats.

A couple of hours later, the door slid open and the Commandant or the Warden - whatever the Rebels had decided to call their prison heads - stepped in, with a formidable guard behind him. "So." he said. "You gave your fellow trooper a pretty good beating. Broke his arm, in fact."

I glare sullenly in silence at him, rubbing my stun burn. "It's the training. And I didn't actually want to kill him."

"Ah, yes, the famed - or infamed - Stormtrooper training. The guards reported some of the words exchanged." Hard, merciless face did not show any levity. "I am impressed with the belief that you're not quite entirely loyal to the Empire. Is it incorrect?"

"Empire, bah. You call that splintered faction the Empire?" My sneer would have done an Eiattuan aristocrat proud.

"I see. Well, I'm prepared to return you to the general prison populace, if..." he paused, eyeing me up. "You will give me your word that you won't cause trouble, attempt to escape or to cause damage."

My word? Given to a Rebel, it was meaningless. "I do."

"Good. Take him back to his cell." he spun and strode out of the confinement cell. Two guards seized me by my arms and escorted me, carrying out the Commandant's orders. It would appear that the ploy was working...