These Are Not The Droids You're Looking For

Chapter 2 - Hoth

The AT-AT walker lurches forward across the frozen tundra of Hoth. Each lumbering step of the giant mechanized beast jolts the occupants within. The Empire doesn't design it's machines of war with the comfort of the clones who operate them in mind.

Bob rubs his hands together. "Woooo.. it's cold in here! Didn't this thing come with a heater?"

Trooper Fred replies, "It's on full blast sir. This planet sucks the heat out of everything."

Doug asks, "Did you forget your thermals sir? I reminded you to dress for the cold."

Bob says, "I did! I stuffed a picture of Princess Leia down my undies. She always makes me feel warm inside when I picture her."

Fred continues, "I have no idea why the rebels would choose this ice cube for their base."

Bob says, "They will learn that they can't hide from the Empire! Do you know where we're going? I should be driving this thing."

Doug interjects, "Sir, you remember the last time you drove an AT-AT? We ended up upside down in a swamp."

"Dammit Doug! You want to walk from here? We're going the wrong way. I want to fix our course."

Trooper Mackie says, "We're following the Admiral towards the rebel base. The location the last transmission from the drone came from is nearing."

Bob tries to stroke his chin, but his hand clinks against his helmet. "We need to turn east. There are rebels in that direction. I can feel it. There is a disturbance in the farce."

Mackie responds, "Adjusting course."

The metal behemoth clears the nearest hill to the east before the alarm is raised. "AT-AT 1078 where are you? We're taking fire from the rebels."

Bob says, "I got this." He reaches over Fred and pushes a couple of buttons. The sound of metal scraping metal is followed by the screams of men. "Where is that pesky radio button?"

Fred says, "Sir"

Bob cuts him off, "I got it. I got it." He hits more buttons. A crash of metal then a blaster goes off. "Which button is it? What just happened?" The screams of men follow as the ground beneath the AT-AT bursts into flames.

Fred shakes his helmet. "Sir, you just dumped all the troops we were carrying, dropped a payload of our secondary fuel reservoir on top of them, and then used a blaster to set it on fire."

Bob says, "It's the rebels! We will avenge our fallen brothers! The rebels must DIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" He gasps for breath then continues, "IIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE" He runs out of breath again. "So none of those trigger the radio? Which button is it?"

"This one sir."

Bob hits the button. "We're on our way." He then smashes the button with the butt of his blaster. "It's about to go down."

After almost four hours a herd of tauntaun come into view in the distance. Bob jumps from his seat. "It's the rebels! I want you to open fire on them as soon as they are in range!"

The blasters make short work of the tauntauns. They try to scatter, but only a few escape. Bob orders, "Stop here. we're all going to go down and inspect the battlefield. There will be songs sung about this day until Darth Vader gets tired of them and force chokes the Storm Trooper who is singing."

The ice crunches under the boots of the four Storm Troopers. Doug blasts one of the tauntaun that is wailing in pain. The nearest tauntaun has a wound that sliced it open across it's breast. Bob points towards the corpse, "Spoils of war Trooper Fred! Go eat from the corpse of the rebel scum!" Fred hisitates. Bob continues, "That is an order soldier."

Fred walks to the lifeless animal. He removes his helmet and begins to gag before tasting the flesh. "The smell is terrible. Awful." He retches. "I can't do it sir. This is disgusting!"

Bob wiggles his fingers at Fred for several minutes. "Doug, I need more practice. You know what to do."

Doug says, "Super-wedgie time. I will take care of it sir." Doug goes to Fred and begins the process of ripping his underwear. Fred's high pitched screams do not stop Doug from completing his task. He pulls the band of Fred's underwear up over his head then lets go. "The task is done sir."

Fred claws at the band, but Doug ensures that it stays in place. Fred dies from lethal dose of wedgie.

Doug turns back to see Mackie puking at the side of the tauntaun. Bob is standing with his hand full of the beast's innards. He is chewing on something. "This is the taste of Victory! Victory tastes like chicken!"