Articles

Ripples of the Future: Joron Darkdust

In Uncategorized on 2008-03-19 by Kyle Maxwell

The glare from the unblinking corridor lights was harsh and sterile, like everything else from this damned government. It reminded Joron of his brief time on an Imperial vessel many years ago, before being unceremoniously dumped on the Outer Rim… now, things had turned around.

Once praised for having testified as state’s evidence against pirates, now just a number in the Imperial penal system.

Once serving as a personal security officer for a Republic Senator, now sneered upon by sadistic guards in the deepest bowels of an asteroid prison.

He’d long since lost track of how long he’d been here, though the face that looked back at him during the morning hygiene period told him it had been far too long. Prison Base 475-10376 floated around some nameless star in some unknown arm of the galaxy—unknown to him, at any rate. Locked away for what he thought were relatively minor crimes, he had wasted these years with nothing to show for it.

There was a disturbing lack of new prisoners over the last several years, and rumors floated around that somehow the Empire had forgotten about the prison. Late at night, when the guards weren’t making their rounds, it was even whispered that perhaps it had fallen.

Joron knew better than that, though. He’d seen the idealists that had been fighting their pathetic little rebellion, even worked with them a bit—their credits spent as well as anyone’s—and he knew they didn’t have what it took to beat the Empire. Wasn’t happening.

The faded orange jumpsuits all around him matched his own, some a bit nattier than others but no one looking particularly fresh. His cell block was being escorted to the mess hall with little incident, as happened three times a day, when a scuffle broke out behind him. He’d learned not to look back or get involved, as the guards seemed to take a special interest in punishing him. Most of them were rejected stormtroopers and all seemed to have inferiority complexes, so they relished every chance they got to wield their stun batons on his hefty frame.

The sound of the brawl drew closer and the shouting grew in volume. Grim-faced guards ran past him as he did his best not to look back.

When the shiv entered his lower back, it came as little surprise. So many enemies in his time, the only real shock was that it hadn’t happened sooner. He tried to look behind him to see his slayer, but his jaw was gripped tightly and the blade cut across his throat with brutal speed.

As the world spun around him and he dropped voiceless to the ground, there was a grunt and a mumbled message.

Too bad he was dead before he could figure out who’d taken their vengeance out on him.

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