Shooga Schmoo

Often confused by the appearance of his shoelaces, Shooga was not destined for greatness. His only skill when a youngling was syuffing six hyper-kiwis in his mouth and not choking, not normally the tell-tale characteristics of a successful capital pilot. Of course, he might tell the tale of how his single-minded determination allowed him to surmount these sizeable genetic disinclinations towards his chosen career, but that would be stretching the truth somewhat.
The truth starts in a bar. Shooga, still shy of his 19th birthday is assessing his chances of blagging a drink from the impressive looking star-captain who has just sallied in. He starts his normal line of being a poor Brutor, looking for security work, when the captain, clearly distressed, throws the ident card for a RUpture at him. "Take it, you moron, see if I care. I hate the fleet, See if anyone notices that some plank Brutor flies in my