Stormtroopers Can’t Shoot Straight. Legionnaires Can.
If there’s one thing that bugged me about Star Wars (and I love Star Wars) it’s the way Stormtroopers can’t shoot for sh…it’s that stormtroopers can’t shoot straight.
I get that the Emperor discontinued the clone program and filled the ranks with less optimized beings. But it always struck me as nonsensical. Luke, Han, Leia, & Chewie should have absolutely been killed while on the Death Star. Stormtroopers can’t shoot straight.
Now, there’s an argument that it was Vader’s decision to let them get away. He had to find that hidden rebel base on Yavin IV. So he ordered the stormtroopers avoid kill shots. Let’s fast forward to the Battle of Endor, when everything is on the line for the Empire and the best a stormtrooper can do when firing at medium range, from a concealed position, at a non-moving target, is a shoulder graze. By the time Episode VII rolls around, they haven’t improved much.
Stormtroopers can’t shoot straight, but Legionnaires can.
When Nick Cole and I decided to write our own Star Wars (but not Star Wars) adventure, we identified that as one of the things that needed fixing. We call our version of stormtroopers, ‘Legionnaires.’ And in the first chapter of Galaxy’s Edge: Galactic Outlaws, we make one thing abundantly clear: “Legionnaires were marksmen.”
See, these guys are the action-packed space opera version of Delta, SEALs, Marine Recon, and Army Ranger all rolled into one. They’re highly trained warriors. They don’t miss.
Recently, as a part of our Galaxy’s Edge universe (GalacticOutalws.com) I released the first chapter of a book that follows a squad of Legionnaires trapped on a hostile alien world just as a rebellion begins. Think Generation Kill meets Star Wars: The Clone Wars and it starts like this…
The galaxy is a dumpster fire.
That’s not the way the Senate and House of Reason want you to hear it. They want me—or one of my brothers—to remove my helmet and stand in front of a holocam, all smiles. They want you to see me without my N-4 rifle (I’m never without my N-4) holding a unit of water while a bunch of raggedy kids from Morobii or Grevulo, you can pick whatever ass-backward planet garners the most sympathy this week, dance around me smiling right back. They want me to give a thumbs up and to say, “At the edge of the galaxy, the Republic is making a difference!”
But the galaxy is a dumpster fire.
A hot, stinking, dumpster fire. And most days I don’t know if the Legionnaires are putting out the flames, or fanning them into an inferno.