Fan: watch those wrist rockets

Gingeria, 2017/2 BBY
Earth-420

The troopers stood silently in the dropship, with the occasional man whispering to a friend about what happens when they land. They were being flown to an Imperial outpost on Gingeria, led by Starkiller's apprentice Luke Skywalker. A group of Jedi had crossed universe's in hopes of being spared from the Empire's bloodthirsty Rebel rampage. Unluckily for them, Starkiller is good at placing tracking devices.

"Lord Starkiller, we have been informed by a.... "cooperating" rebel that the Rebellion have reinhabited an old Xenian factory, mass producing alien brutes to fight again our troops." Marsen, in the form of a blue hologram sitting on Starkiller's palm, alerted.

"We will be ready for them. That factory will be destroyed." Starkiller replied, almost turning the hologram off.

"Actually, my lord, Darth Sidious has requested that the factory becomes Imperial property."

Starkiller quickly channeled his anger and annoyance into use in battle. His hatred for Sidious grew by the minute.

"Very well. We will be landing in Luke's camp in a few minutes. Be sure my soldiers have food waiting for them, captain."

"As you wish, my lord."

A trooper overheard this conversation, and become overjoyed. He was a clonetrooper, from the 501st. He was a... defected clone, who was accidentally created using the DNA of an old hotdog chef at Jabba's Palace, instead of Fett. He was dubbed Papa Acachalla by his fellow clones, likely due to his excellent cooking. He would often serve jalapeno cheddar sausages to his teammates after a hard day of war back in the day.

"Watch those wrist rockets!", he thought. Putting some clankers in the junkyard would do him some good.