Invaders

Chapter I: Determination

They crouched in silence behind a generator as the ambience of the forest overtook their bodies, filling them with constant worry. At any moment, one of them could jump out. There was no telling when; the only thing the two stormtroopers could do was sit and wait, inevitably for their deaths.

"My flashlight is about to run out of power; turn yours on once it does."

"Roger."

The flashlight mounted on Bran's standard-issue E-11 blaster flickered out, swiftly replaced by Duma's illumination. Yet, their combined beams offered limited coverage, rendering them barely functional. The two stormtroopers retained the lights as a source of solace rather than practicality. In the brief thirty seconds it took for Duma's light to fade, Bran readied himself.

"I heard there were some heavy blasters stored in the caves. We could go grab them; it'll give us a better chance to fight them off, plus I think there are more powerful flashlights we can use too." said Bran.

The idea of moving from their position terrified Duma. He knew if they tried to move, their chance of survival would be slim.

"We'll die if we move! We'd only make it a couple feet before they'd find us!"

"Without those blasters we're dead. The way I see it, we either die trying to give ourselves a chance, or we die not giving us one at all."

"Dank farrick, fine." Duma muttered under his breath. "How do you propose we do this then?"

"Do you remember those giant rocks that lay in the river?" Bran pointed into the darkness towards the loud sounds of the river flowing downstream.

"Yes, why?" Duma replied confused.

"We can use the sound of the river and the cover from the rocks to inch our way closer to the caves. They lie right next to the river." Bran said with enthusiasm.

"What makes you think they haven't thought of that strategy themselves?"

"We've had military training, they're a bunch of animals."

Bran peaked his head from behind the generator and waited for a moment. The constant sounds of their cheering and whistling kept the stormtroopers on edge. Most of the noises were distant, but every sound hit them like a starfighter.

"Follow close behind me and watch for traps."

Bran and Duma stood up and carefully moved across the crunchy floor of the Endor surface, watching intently for broken branches to ensure they made as little noise as possible. The rushing waters of the river became more audible as they drew closer and closer. Their heartbeats almost synced with the same sped up rhythm.

Once their feet felt the cold splash of the water, the stormtroopers were able to take a breath, a short one however, for they still had much ground to cover before they reached the caves. They started with more than two dozen troopers, but that number was quickly replaced by hordes of the creatures that now hunt the two surviving men. Their once white armor is now stained with the blood of their fallen troopers and the dirt of Endor.

The water pushed fiercely against their legs. Navigating through the river became arduous as their feet repeatedly got swept away. Barely able to fight against the current, the stormtroopers began to grip the large rocks and pull themselves through the water. Their torn gloves had little traction against the slickness of the rocks. They frantically reached out for another rock, unable to see due to the trees blocking most of the moonlight. Their breaths were heavy and their legs began to burn with exhaustion.

A horn blew in the near distance. Duma and Bran froze, struggling to hold themselves against the current. Their hearts were beating faster than before while they looked around frantically for something, anything. Their rapid, fast breaths can be heard through their helmets' voice modulators. Unable to grab their flashlights, they waited in the darkness with the sound of the rushing water flooding out any noises that could warn them of an attack.