????: - Its busy? -

At a secluded dining room table, a secluded table was occupied by two broken beings. On the one hand, Foxley, the clone whose past he refused to remember. And Zeb, the lasat who didn't know anyone there and just wanted some peace in all that hustle and bustle. However, neither of them expected a third diner to approach their table.

He was a young man of about twenty years old, maybe younger. Brown hair combed to the right and a serene face, although too serious for his age. The two diners looked at him strangely, but they had no problem telling him to accompany them.

Young man: - This area is quieter. Do not believe it? -

Zeb: - Something like that. Garazeb Orreciol, from the Lasat guard... A pleasure. -

Young: Jon Vander...Aspiring pilot. I'm wondering the same. -

Foxley: - So you're the new guy. I heard other pilots in the hangar talking about you. They say you're a very good... Foxley... bounty hunter. -

Vander: - I'm just a lucky rookie... Although I don't know if being under Lieutenant Mirana's charge is good luck. -

Zeb: - It's never easy. Hey...? I understand the feeling. Being a rookie in the Lasat Royal Guard was no easy task. -

Vander: - I had previous experience. In the end I am just another of the many deserters who does not support the injustice of the Empire. -

Foxley: - A just cause... But not all of us have that same conviction. -

Vander: - And what about you? I've never seen... a bounty hunter clone before. -

Foxley: - It's a long and boring story... Believe me... You're going to get bored of listening to it. -

Zeb: - It's a long trip... we have some time. -

The clone could only laugh at the statement. The lasat knew how to use the word and he was right. He was informed that the trip to Gwori would take several days, so it was best to make himself comfortable for the moment. And who knows, maybe meeting someone new could be a little entertaining.

Foxley: - What do you know about the battle of Abregadro? -

Zeb: - I only heard rumors. Lasat stayed out of the war throughout the conflict. -

Vander: - I have never heard that name. -

Foxley: - Well... This will be a long story. -

--------------------------Flash Back---------------------------------

Foxley narrates:

He belonged to the hunter battalion of the 104th clone legion. The war had just begun, and we had been assigned a mission in that sector. I was just a corporal, so I didn't have much knowledge of the mission. Only the classic... Order and command...

We didn't know what we would face, but as soon as we arrived at the sector the combat alarms sounded. My squad prepared for combat, but we were not ready for what we were going to face. In fact... We probably never would be.

At that time I didn't know what had hit us, but a powerful discharge from an ion cannon shut down all the systems of the Venator battleship we were on. The boys and I didn't know what had happened, but we instantly felt the shaking on the hull. We were taking enemy fire, and it was extremely heavy.

There was nothing we could do. The ship received such a strong jolt that it sent us all to the ground, probably because our escort ship had exploded under enemy fire. Our only chance of survival was the escape pods, so I rushed with my unit and we managed to evacuate before our ship fell... And that's when hell began.

We thought that would be it, but the ion cannon also destroyed our escape pod systems. We thought that after the defeat we could do nothing but regret... But it was not like that... It was then... that we saw them.

Those bastards didn't just finish off our forces. They wanted to kill us one by one. Ships specialized in destroying drop pods were deployed over the wreckage. We saw how one of those things wiped out all the survivors in a neighboring capsule... And now they had set their target on us. But we would not allow ourselves to be defeated so easily.

Our helmets allowed us to survive the vacuum of space for about ten minutes. Enough time to go out and defend ourselves with everything we had. There were nine of us, but the droids had the advantage. Without magnetic boots, without anything that would allow us to aim accurately, I saw my men fall one by one without being able to do anything but continue shooting. And finally, the last separatist droid fell... But at what cost?

When I looked around I realized I was alone. Of nine of my men I was the only survivor. My brothers' bodies were floating in the vacuum of space away from the capsule, and I couldn't even retrieve them... All while my oxygen reserves plummeted.

I had no choice but to return to the capsule... alone. The controls were unresponsive, and the emergency batteries barely allowed me to control the life supports. I couldn't ask for help... I couldn't give my position... I couldn't do anything.

The decision to reduce oxygen levels to a minimum was not easy. I knew that my body would not remain conscious, but at least it was a possibility to prolong my lethargy... A vain attempt to survive. Waiting for help that... Never came.

It was then that I understood it. He was just a number... One of the thousands of insignificant soldiers that no one cared about. I was going to die in that remote part of the galaxy... Alone... It wasn't much different from a simple combat droid... I understood that very well at the time.

I don't remember how long it took before I fell unconscious, but if I know one thing, it's that I'm not alive today thanks to the Republic. When I woke up I found myself on a freighter... One whose pilot thought that with a little scrap metal he could get some extra credits. A rather elderly Rodian. You can't imagine the surprise he had when he discovered that he was alive in the pile of scrap metal he collected.

In the end he left me in a port on an outer rim world. Place where I buried my armor and began to live a quiet life. Or so I tried, but fate had another idea in mind.

When the war ended everything became chaos. Pirates, looters and criminal gangs rushed over the outer edge to plunder whatever resources they could. My world was no exception, and once again, I had to dig out my armor and my blaster to defend the village whose land I helped farm... All... in vain.

There were ten of them, but I managed to survive the combat, although I received a wound in my abdomen. But everything was in vain. Everything he had worked for now was just food for the fire. The few survivors dispersed and traveled to a quieter place, although I do not know if anyone has managed to survive at this point. And I took over the ship of the bandits I had executed. Since then I'm nothing more than a bounty hunter trying to earn some credits and buy a good bottle of alcohol to spend the night...

-------------------------------- Fin del Flash Back -------------------------------

Foxley: - Well... That's my story... Like I told you... Nothing exciting. -

Zeb: - We all have our own stories... And it seems that not all of them have a pleasant ending. -

Foxley: - One who was let down by the Empire he longed for. Another who lost everything and another who was forgotten by his people... Yes... This group has definitely had bad luck. -

Vander: - Then we have to toast to that. -

The other two watched in confusion as the young man took his glass of juice and raised it above the table, as if he were really thinking of making a toast or something like that. But at least his somewhat encouraging attitude could brighten the mood at the table a little.

Vander: - For the most unfortunate. - Zeb and Foxley just smiled and raised their drinks in unison.

Foxley: - For those of us who have lost everything. -

Zeb: - For those of us who are still here. - And so, the three of them took a drink to seal the moment.

Foxley: - I really wish this was good alcohol. -