S01 E01 Do it for Whisper Meadows
"They're coming," whispered the Rodian in his native tongue. His companion, a thin Deaon, nodded and pulled up the crude rocket tube to his chest. The Rodian peaked back over the ruined hab-block, focusing his battered electrobinoculars back on the approaching convoy of stark grey Shyke vehicles.
"How many?" asked the Deaon as he slid a HE rocket into the tube. The Rodian's snout twitched as he silently counted the vehicles and their soldier escort.
"Two speeders, two six-wheelers, one walker, and maybe twenty men," reported the Rodian, not looking away from their target. The Deaon paled at the announcement of a walker.
"A walker!? Darnekk said nothing about a walker!" The Deaon's voice was loud, too loud, it made the Rodian cringe and quickly duck back out of sight.
"What did you expect? They'd keep letting their convoys get attacked?"
"Well, but…" the Deaon trailed off, his grip of the rocket tube slackening. The Rodian scooped up his blaster carbine from where it had been laying.
"If you don't want to do this, then go! Look, no one said fighting for our homeblock would be easy. If we die today then so be it, but if it helps the cause even by the smallest bit then I say its worth it. Do you think Greybird was liberated in a day? No. Do you think that nobody died? Of course people died, but their lives bought them freedom! And that's something we've never known, and never will if we keep letting those Shyke bastards grind us into the dirt! And I don't know about you, brother, but I'm sick of the taste of dirt." The Rodian stared at his friend, his long fingered hand gripping his shoulder tightly. The Deaon slowly nodded and lifted the launcher with a new fire burning bright in his eyes. The Rodian smirked and stood with his friend. "Make them burn, brother. Do it for our people. Do it for Whisper Meadows."