#OC: Narglatch Company

[merspots]

Gone

Just posting an old Order 66 fic of my OCs here because of the new episode. Feel some people might enjoy it :)

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Astro hated waiting. He, like the rest of his company, was half-crouched at the bottom of a dry creek bed, waiting for their General and the troops she had taken with her to return from their scouting mission. She had gone to find a way around the ridgeline ahead of them, which had been hidden by the tall trees of the forest. They could not go directly over it; doing so would leave them visible to the droids on the mountain that loomed above, and that would mean death in a hail of plasma. This dry creek bed at the bottom of the small gully was the best cover around, shallow as it was. But it did nothing to protect them from the parching heat in the air, and nor would it offer much protection against battle droids if they were found. He figured they should be returning soon, and again scanned the sclerophyll forest for movement. Seeing none, he let out a sigh and wondered why she hadn’t asked him to come with her; exploring – and finding safe paths in dangerous territory – was something he loved. Armstrong always said he had a good nose for danger, though Quanda used to say that he was a magnet for trouble. He felt his breath catch in his throat and forced his teeth together. Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts.

Turning away from the forest and back towards his brothers, he slipped from crouching to sitting. The two closest to him, the shinies Jara and Rhaz, were quietly talking to each other. Shinies? he thought as he felt a slight wry smile form on his face. They weren’t; not really. They had been part of his squad for months now, since Nyrooine, but they still felt new to him. They hadn’t graduated with him on Kamino, or experienced relief missions to devastated worlds under General Kofi and Commander Ner. All they had known was General Peeta leading them into battle against Separatist forces. Many of the troops making up Narglatch Company were like them; most of those who had served under General Kofi having been transferred to other units or lost in the front line battles their company had participated in under their new General. Of the small handful that remained there were even fewer he considered close friends.

He missed them. He missed them so much he could almost feel the ache coiling behind his sternum. His eyes closed involuntarily as he wished he could talk to Armstrong again, ask him why, why he betrayed them all. It all went wrong when you deserted, he spat at the image in his head. You broke the spell. Their blood is on your hands.

He couldn’t fight his memories anymore, and he returned to the day after Armstrong ran. He could feel once more the exhaustion that had dragged at his limbs, exhaustion not solely due to the lack of sleep the night before. His hope for Armstrong’s return had grown cold as the morning light had strengthened, and so he had focused on the battle ahead. There was no time for mourning while there were still Seppies on the planet, and under General Peeta’s directions they had gone out to destroy the last holdout of droids. It was there Angle was lost, when they encountered droids among the rocky tors marking where the mountain forests met the valley grasslands. Like always, before he had dived out from behind the grey granite lump they had been sheltering behind, Angle had boasted how he would destroy the most droids. The image of him getting hit in the chest by a blaster bolt, his feet slipping out from under him as he fell onto his side, replayed in slow motion. He could still hear the sharp grunt that accompanied it, before the worrying silence. It had felt like hours, waiting for the blaster fire to lessen so he could go out and drag Angle back to shelter, but he knew it had only been a handful of minutes before he had been able to dart out and pull him to safety. At that point he was still alive, though the charred mark on his chest plate had warned not for long. The agonising minutes it had taken Astro to carry him to the medics waiting in the forest behind them, however, were too long and he had died before they had a chance to save him.

The images in his head seemed to rush past, slowing down only when they reached a tropical world. Nyrooine. That campaign was a blood bath; so many of his brothers were lost in the world’s cities and canyons. General Peeta had tried to keep the casualties to a minimum, but even her strategies were unable to cope with the number of droids and gunships the Seppies had amassed. Quanda had died there, killed during their retreat from the main city. He had gotten separated from the rest of the squad, and Astro still wished he hadn’t. A few weeks after that an off-course Seppie proton torpedo had killed Spark, roughly around the same time the Republic decided to abandon the planet. That world marked the point where Narglatch Company started to change. The influx of new troopers combined with a change in purpose under the new General altered everything. General Peeta even encouraged everyone to paint sky blue marking on their armour, something General Kofi had never seemed interested in. That campaign became the first of many under the new General, campaigns that had cost him close friends. A few months after Nyrooine Atom had died shielding Archie from a Super Battle Droid’s missile, then a few weeks ago Archie had been killed during a patrol, when a mine was remotely detonated. Now there was only Woody left, and he was little comfort, never wanting to talk about the past. Astro loved his younger brothers, but they would never soothe the loneliness of losing those who he had grown up with.

“Astro.” The call broke him out of his thoughts, and he opened his eye to see Jara looking back at him with concern. He knew it was Jara, because while both Jara and Rhaz had dyed their hair an identical shade of orange, probably because of a lost dare, Jara had bleached back in his characteristic white stripe.

Astro gave him a weak smile and murmured, “I’m alright,” though he doubted he’d actually reassured either of them. Jara still looked worried as Astro released his grip on the creek bank, his fingers leaving deep gouges in the sandy soil. Rhaz nudged Jara and then they returned to their conversation, leaving Astro to let out a sigh of relief. He could understand their concern, with how weird Haywire and Woody were. They wouldn’t want their only other normal squad mate suddenly acting strange. This was why he hated waiting. It almost always ended up in moments like this, his thoughts wandering down well-worn trails, though it had been a long time since he had got this caught up in them.

Trying to focus on something else, he looked to where Haywire was resting against the bank. His eyes were half closed, but Astro knew from experience that he wasn’t nearly as relaxed as his worn face seemed to suggest. Haywire was never relaxed. Though he is better than when he first arrived, Astro reflected, stuttering less and not glaring if someone touches him. When he was brought in to replace Armstrong, he brought trouble with him. He was older than them, and wanted nothing to do with anyone, meeting any order not given by a Jedi with a disdainful stare. Sometimes, when the order was particularly risky, he very nearly ignored it altogether. Astro figured that the only reason he had not already been court marshalled for insubordination was because he followed General Peeta’s orders, and seemed to trust her, if no one else. His attitude had gotten on everyone’s nerves, but none so more than Spark’s. Spark’s almost pathological desire to follow orders always led to conflict, and he and Quanda had been forced to stop the arguments that occurred almost every other week. That was until Quanda had caught that blaster bolt. After that he no longer felt like intervening, only doing so when the verbal baiting turned physical. Haywire had done something unexpected, though, when Spark was killed. Though Astro was sure that Spark genuinely hated him, Haywire refused to leave his side while he was injured and unconscious. He sat with him until he died, even going so far as to threaten the medic that tried to make him move. He never explained why; all he said was that he didn’t want Spark to feel alone, even though Spark probably never even knew he was there. Haywire never talked about what happened before he joined their company, but Astro guessed that someone had done the same for him once, probably during whatever left the scars on his face and his trust.

Shifting back into a crouch, he scanned the forest once more for the Jedi, but saw no one. He hoped they hadn’t got lost. The paths that had seemed so clear from the air seemed to disappear between the twisted trees and the lanky bushes, which looked more like bundles of twigs than living things. The entire forest seemed dead, all white and grey and black.

A sudden shuffling of feet drew his attention back to his squad. They were all crouching, with Woody leaning forward with one hand on the ground and the other on the side of his helmet. His shoulders were drawn up, though his tense posture told Astro nothing useful. Woody was always tense. What made Astro’s stomach clench was that his three other squad mates seemed just as tense. Grabbing his helmet from where it sat beside him, he slipped it on. Immediately, he heard a familiar voice, though it sounded both harsher and more satisfied than he had ever heard it before.

“… Sixty-six.”

Woody’s shoulders relaxed.

Astro felt his breath catch in his throat, and he immediately looked towards Woody, who had straightened up and leaned back on his heels. There was a moment complete silence, like even the wind was holding its breath, before their captain spoke over the comms. “Narglatch Company, execute Order Sixty-Six.” His words were quiet, but heavy with vicious anger.

Sickly confusion shot through Astro, and a single word slipped out unbidden. “What?”

Woody slowly turned his helmeted head towards Astro, and Haywire balled his fists. “Execute Order Sixty-six,” Woody repeated, his words slow and drawn out. His tone, that of furious anger, disconcerted Astro as much as his words. He hadn’t heard Woody speak with that much anger, that much emotion period, since Gallias.

“But General Peeta would never, could never, betray the Republic. She’s no traitor. We can’t kill her!” Astro snapped back, confusion chilling to deep fear. If the Chancellor had called Order 66, that mean that the Jedi had become traitors. But he knew, he knew, that their General would never betray the Republic.

“You’re a soldier, follow your orders,” Rhaz snarled, his tone mirroring Woody’s. Astro shot a look around the creek bed and saw the other squads getting ready to head out into the forest, to look for and kill their General.

He looked back at Woody, looking him dead in the eye though neither could tell given they were both wearing helmets, and muttered, “Yes, sir. I shall go search for the General.” Mechanically, he stood and vaulted himself on top of the bank, scanning for movement in the trees. All was still. He sprinted off in the direction he had seen the General leave in.

He had to get to her first, warn her to get away. He had to stop his brothers from doing something he knew they would regret. He had to protect them. All of them. It didn’t take long to see the three troopers she had taken with her. Slowing down, he called out “Where’s the General?”, careful to keep his voice neutral.

“Coming.” The trooper’s voice was harsh, and from that Astro knew they too had heard the order. The only reason he could think as to why they hadn’t acted on it was because she had a greater chance of escaping them than escaping the entire company. Returning to his sprint, it only took him a few more hammering heartbeats to see General Peeta deeper in the forest. The Trianii blended easily into the environment even though she stood two meters tall, her sandy beige robes a similar colour to the soil and the black stripes on her grey coat like the shadows on the trees. Now, however, she was framed against stark white trunks. As he ran towards her, he switched off his helmet’s comms before pulling it off to ensure no one could listen in.

She stopped walking as he drew close and regarded him with concerned amber eyes. “What is it, Astro?”

“General, you have to run. We’ve been ordered to execute you as a traitor to the Republic. You have to go. Now!” His words were breathless rush as he skidded to a stop. She stood there, frowning at him for a heartbeat, before her eyes shifted to look behind him. He felt ice fill he chest as her ears flattened sideways and her long grey and black tail began to sweep from side to side. Clenching his teeth, he turned around and took an involuntary step back. Moving towards them was a wall of clone troopers, their armour marked with light blue. He took another step backwards and collided with something solid. Glancing over his shoulder he realised his was standing back to back with his General. The rest of his company had encircled them. Dropping his helmet, he pulled his blaster from his belt and raised it in silent warning. He heard the sharp sounds of two lightsabers igniting before feeling a light pressure at his side and seeing an orange glow. Sparing a glance over his other shoulder, he saw General Peeta holding her green-bladed lighsaber before her in a defensive position, while she was using her prehensile tail to hold her orange bladed shoto at his side.

“Kill the traitors!” A hail of blaster bolts flew towards him, and he felt the pressure at his side change as the orange blade flicked up in from of him. It started to move almost incomprehensibly fast, protecting him from incoming fire. He took a breath and narrowed his focus down to no dying, pushing the thrumming fear away. He fired off shots whenever he saw a gap, aiming for limbs and blasters. Even so, he couldn’t stop his mind for scanning for familiar markings. He would not be able to bear it if he saw Woody or Jara or Rhaz or even Haywire. But he did not see the bright green Haywire had painted on his armour, and the light blue patterns seemed to blend into each other. He heard a soft grunt from behind him and hoped that the light armour General Peeta wore under her robes was protecting her. He felt a dim burst of pain shoot up his right leg and looked down. The outer side of his lower leg plate was smoking.

He heard another gasp from behind him, this time sharper. Looking up and around, he realised that while they were holding the company back for now, there was no escape. “I have an idea,” he muttered over his shoulder.

“What?” General Peeta rumbled back, voice slightly strained.

Taking his left hand off his blaster, he reached into a belt pouch and pulled out three small, round objects. “Once I let off these smoke grenades use the Force get us a path out of here.”

“Right,” she murmured, and he felt her posture shift. Astro took one last, deep, breath before he activated and dropped the grenades. As soon as they hit the ground they started to spin and release a smothering cloud of white smoke. It only took a few moments for the thick smoke to engulf them, blocking his view of his brothers.

“Duck.” The General’s voice was soft, but he obeyed immediately, crouching close to the ground. He heard the hiss of sheathing lightsabers followed by the distinctive clatter of plastoid smacking together, then the blaster bolts stopped. He felt something briefly wrap around and tug at his left arm and looked up to see the General sprinting away through the smoke. Astro sprang to his feet and charged after her, not paying attention to how the smoke seemed to cling to them, hiding them from the chasing blaster bolts. He could hear many feet behind him, and as soon as the smoke started to clear he dived behind the nearest tree. Keep going, he whispered in his mind as he watched his General run deeper into the forest, before turning to look for their pursuers.

He could see them now, emerging through the smoke, and he fired a few blaster bolts in their direction, purposefully aiming wide. Once he saw a few break off to run in his direction he sprinted towards another tree, further away from his General’s path. Blue blasterfire chased him, igniting hope within him. He’d hoped that at least some of his brothers would decide to chase him rather than the General, and he hoped that if that happened then she would have a greater chance of survival. Looking around, he spotted a clear path towards a fallen tree thick enough to hide behind. He took a deep breath and threw himself towards it. Before he had taken more than two steps he felt something hit him from behind, throwing him forward. More impacts followed, and all he could feel was pain. Everything fizzled to black, and he heard a shrill scream. It took a few long moments to see again and realise he was lying half on his side, head resting on his arm, which was stretched out above him. Immediately he tried to move his fingers, but that only elicited pain than lanced through his body and black clouds that burst over his vision. He tried to move some other part of him; there was nothing. Astro felt his throat tighten at the thought of being paralysed, and he prayed to the Force that he had bought Peeta enough time.

His world constricted around him, pain and fear almost overwhelming. All he could hear was the staccato pants of his breath, punctuated by the painful thud of his heart against his ribs, each beat seeming to take longer than the last. His throat felt dry and tight, shadows crouched on the edge of his vision. He couldn’t move, just stare helplessly in the direction Peeta had run. He watched as she leapt up into a tree, a dark shape stark against the twisted white trunk. She seemed to hang there for an impossibly long heartbeat before vaulting herself further into the canopy.

The shadows started to move further across his vision, and the ground seemed to undulate in time with his pulse. He saw a dark shape leap from tree to tree, the path she took dashed with blue light. Bursts of flame erupted from the foliage when the bolts hit a tree, each gout of orange short lived.

The pain seemed to intensify with each breath, pushing into his chest, his back, his skull like a million needle-sharp daggers. He could barely see. It forced a dry, soundless sob from his throat before ebbing away, stealing every other sensation with it.

A dim shape fell from the trees. Blasterfire converged where it landed, painting the trees with pale blue.

He felt a soft breath escape as the shadows overtook his eyes. He was sinking. He couldn’t hear anything, feel anything.

Everything was gone.