The Soldier's Guide To Overthrowing A Space Empire.

Step 4 - Terrorize innocent civilians

...

Ah shi here we go again.. The rush of soldiers' footsteps throughout the entire compound. The cramped armories have gotten unbearable. Y'know that base commanders usually monitor everyone to make sure they all fall in line and remain in order? Well they can't see inside the barracks sooo... Imagine a tightly packed convention squeezed into rooms the size of a small living room. It was noisy, it was loud, it was heated, it was... smelly? Yeahhh... Not everyone washes the inside of their armor thoroughly.. *seeth* it's bad..

Our plucky lizard boy once again finds himself in a sea of people. Sweaty, loud, and pushy. He puts his head down and slowly wades over to his locker and undoes the safety pin. Takes a few tries due to people pushing him over and fiddeling the lock combo. He uncuffs his gear from the sidedoor and grabs his helmet from the top segment. There's a bunch of papers carefully taped onto the side door. Mostly base scheds, reminders, and photographs of the native flora he took. But there are a few that stick out. A card his mom sent to him the first day he got there; It's double sided with a printed image of the Capitol City on Araxamus, slightly faded but the text is still legible. "Stay safe, come home soon!" with a printed family portrait from when he was younger.

He kisses his fingertip and presses it against it longingly against the faded letter. He stares out of focus for a while until the locker suddenly slams down. Oh here we go. 

Most folks who are part of a squadron usually develop a sort of uhhh... "friendship" with eachother. Bonding over the mundane things like waiting in line.. chatting during training sims... burning innocent people's homes down.. etc.. But, Z'kri kept to himself most of the time. He never really was onboard  with the whole socializing schtick. He was sent here to do a job and nothing else.

Perhaps that would come back to bite him as now he's being stared down by another ground enforcer with a group of others behind him.

...

"What's up, Zik-off~" the taller of the two said in derision

Z'kri: (annoyed) "piss off, Ma'lack." 

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Name: Ma'lack

Gender: Male

Species: Transgalactic (Araxamus)

Occupation: Ground Enforcer.

Planet of Origin: Araxamus/Dalassia.

Planet Tasked: Erythra.

Age:  25 Transgalactic Years/20.815 Araxian Years/22.5 Earth Years.

Affiliation: The Hammer of The Matriarch.

He's a transferee the southern base 1-D. He arrived about the same time when Z'kri first got conscripted to the base. Y'know most people get a training period but Z'kri got sent straight from home; anyways, Ma'lack.. He's.. an bit of an asshole. Superiority complex? Hollow ego? Who's to say.

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Ma'lack: (conniving): "We ain't gon' lose more territory cus' o' you right, Zik-off?" A gaggle of his squadmates chuckle behind him.

What Ma'lack is oh so covertly referencing is one of Z'kri's previously led missions. Lemme set the stage for you.

...

T'was high noon... Hot desert sand blew against dry hardened scales.. the air was harsh, but the enforcers were harsher..

It was a large coastal desert city, more inland. Neuba was the name. And reports from a data cache implied that a major rebel insurgency was secretly taking place over a discreet hand signal language conveyed over the busy spice lined merchant filled streets.