Jun 30, 2006 07:53
Fred Trooper had a tendency to work through lunch. He was cloned to be able to surivive without midday meals. It was part of being a warrior. He had to admit that he was letting this place make him a little soft, though. He thought a lot of it was all this thinking he was having to do. He never had to think while on the battlefront. Nope, that was for ARC troopers and Jedi to do. They just told him where to go to shoot stuff. There was no thinking except for thinking on his feet so he didn't get the wrong people killed.
His feet. He realized that armor really isn't suitable office wear. It got uncomfortable in all sorts of places when you're just sitting there all day. Every day. Playing Minesweeper. He needed to relax his feet.
So he took his boots off, found a convenient water container, and soaked his feet in it. "Ahhhhh," he said.
And then an office drone returning from lunch walked into the office and saw the Mystical Water Cooler being defiled. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--" he started to scream. And then a stapler hit him in the head.
Fred Trooper sighed. Some instincts never went away, they merely adapted. He put his boots back on, moved the unconscious drone to a desk so it looked like he was sleeping there, and collected his stapler. Nobody would ever know.