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elendiliel · 3 years ago

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Into the Future

Finally got round to the next bit of actual plot (or rather plot-like object) in the Healing AU. (More will probably follow very shortly.) I have such mixed feelings about this one that I’m almost afraid to ask for feedback - almost...

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“So, who are these guys?,” Helli asked as she, Anakin Skywalker, Captain Rex and three-quarters of the rest of her strike team, Lightning Squadron, waited for the squad that would be joining them for an assault on the Techno Union facility on Skako Minor. Officially, they were going to shut down a source of Separatist intel and strategic planning unit; unofficially, their other objective was to rescue the final member of Lightning Squadron, Echo, who had been presumed dead months before. The TU base would be heavily guarded, hence the reinforcements, but Helli hadn’t had time to stay up to date on the plan of attack. As well as her usual duties, she and her second-in-command Sergeant Torrent were getting married in a few weeks, and there was only so much organisation she could offload onto her equally busy friends. Some decisions only the bride and groom could make.

“Clone Force 99,” Rex replied. “I hadn’t heard of them before, but Cody’s worked with them.” Cody was Rex’s best friend, and had been since they were cadets. He was out on the front lines with his men and their general, Master Kenobi; otherwise, he’d surely have been there. “Clones who… differ from the standard template in useful ways.” He was avoiding the dreaded word “defective”; Helli silently cursed the perfectionist kaminiise yet again. “Apparently they’re also called the Bad Batch.”

“99?” The number seemed to bring back bittersweet memories for Fives, Echo’s twin. Helli realised why even as she reached out in sympathy to her vod’ika. 99 had been a maintenance clone on Kamino, a brave and kind man whose soldier’s heart hadn’t been matched by his body, and who had died fighting alongside Fives, Echo, Rex and Cody during the Separatist invasion of their homeworld. Helli wished she’d had the chance to meet him. “Nice touch.”

“That’s what I thought,” Rex said. The two men shared a sad smile, an aay’han from which the rest of the assembly was excluded. Helli managed not to mind. Rex had known, and served with, Fives even longer than she had.

“I’ve heard stories about them,” Torrent put in, scanning the skies above them. “If they’re even half-true, they make us look sane.”

“Quite an achievement,” commented Spark, Lightning Squadron’s technical expert and sarcasm provider. Their team could charitably be described as unconventional at the best of times. Anakin clearly wanted to agree, but given some of his past escapades, he knew Helli would respond with something like, “Look who’s talking,” and thus wisely stayed silent. The two young Jedi had been at least acquainted for the best part of a decade; he knew when not to start an argument with her.

Torrent seemed to have a point. A small ship, perhaps an attack shuttle, had detached from the stream of Coruscant air-traffic overhead and was careering towards the Bad Batch’s designated landing point with reckless speed. Even champion pod-racer Anakin and literally combat-trained Lightning Squadron didn’t fly that crazily. Helli was amazed the ship made it down in one piece, but she did, and the landing ramp was soon lowered to reveal four figures in heavily customised clone armour. Phase II, not katarn, but the four-man team still acted like commandos. Lightning Squadron had worked with a few RC squads before, notably Omega and Delta; such missions could generally be summarised as “crash, bang, wallop”, but they had given Helli a good sense for how commandos operated, and now let her identify the roles of the newcomers.

The one in the lead, removing a relatively plain helmet to reveal shoulder-length hair held back by a red bandanna and a skull tattoo over half his face, was clearly the commander. Helli recognised the way he moved, held himself, interacted with his surroundings; his difference probably had similar results to her affinity for Force-insight. Enhanced senses, perhaps. He introduced himself as Sergeant Hunter, and the big man behind him as Wrecker. Easy. The brawler, with enhanced strength. Quite possibly the demo man as well, looking at the scar on the left side of his head; there must be more inside that head than one might assume if that were the case. Demo is hard. The absent-minded-looking one who almost wandered off the side of the ramp, too focused on a datapad, his helmet modified to fit around yellow-tinted goggles, was called Tech; no prizes for guessing what he was. Enhanced intelligence and memory capacity, most likely. Helli liked him immediately, but knew they wouldn’t get a layperson-comprehensible word out of him and Spark for at least an hour. Finally, the tall silver-haired man who stalked down after his brothers, scowling around a toothpick, was Crosshair, a name that matched the tattoo over his right eye. Another easy one.

“Sniper, I take it?” Helli could tell Crosshair would be the hardest to befriend, and therefore started with him. “What’s your top range?”

“Ten klicks.” No pride, just a fact.

“Impressive.” Helli meant it. No other sharpshooter she knew, even in the GAR, had anywhere near that skill level. “Sniping’s a dark art to me. I’m more of a close-quarters lass.” Her hand tried to stray to her sgian dubh, her all-purpose knife, before remembering that she’d given it to Torrent in lieu of an engagement ring or a vambrace like the one he’d given her, which had barely left her arm since.

Hunter picked up on the motion, his eyes flicking between the orange-painted piece of clone armour clashing horribly with Helli’s blue trousers and the Jedi symbol engraved on the hilt of the knife tucked into Torrent’s right greave (badly engraved, but Helli had been seven when she did it). “I understand congratulations are in order. How long have you two been engaged?”

Torrent told him – just a couple of months – and added the newly chosen wedding date, his gaze irresistibly drawn to his fiancée, his smile so full of love and happiness that her heart melted yet again and she was rendered utterly speechless. She did her best to return the favour, and thought she’d hit the mark.

Crosshair clearly couldn’t bear to be outdone in that department. “So soon? I thought Jedi were meant to have more restraint.”

Helli almost didn’t react fast enough. Tor was usually gentle and even-tempered, but not where her safety or honour was concerned. He surged forward, obviously bent on forcing Crosshair to take back his comment; Crosshair was more than ready for him. A sniper he might be, but he could probably handle himself in hand-to-hand combat. Helli put herself between them just in time, a hand on each of their chests, looking from one to the other, her presence holding them back more effectively than brute force. “For your information, Crosshair, we’ve been in love for over two years, and if the Council hadn’t given us permission to marry we’d have been prepared to stay friends for the rest of our lives. And Tor,” her voice softened dramatically, “I appreciate your defending me and my honour, but I’ve been dealing with insults since you were a tubie. Please, don’t put yourself at risk if it’s not really necessary.” She snapped back into “commander” mode. “Now, if I let you go, do you promise not to melt each other?” She knew better than to ask them to apologise. Crosshair was too proud, and Tor hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

“I promise.” There was a flash of pain in Torrent’s voice and eyes, but Helli didn’t think it should be addressed in public. Crosshair just nodded – the best she would get, she knew – and turned away, pacing over to where the rest of his team was waiting to be led by Anakin and Rex to a briefing room. Helli let her hand trail slowly down Torrent’s chestplate, savouring every moment of contact even through his armour, before trying to take his hand. He pulled away, gently but firmly, walking beside her for a few paces as they followed the others, then dropping back to talk to Fives and Spark. His sudden coldness was a knife in her heart, but she had a hazy idea she should give him space. She’d never expected to have any romantic relationships, and had no real clue how to handle this situation.

Until Anakin spoke to her, making her jump. She’d been so caught up in her worries and pain that she hadn’t sensed or seen him by her side. “Talk to him. We’ll wait for you. If we’re going to pull this off, we all need to be on the same page.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “You’re his commander as well as his fiancée. Try to remember that.”

“Thank you.” Her own smile was much weaker, but it was definitely there. As the rest of the squad entered the briefing room, she hung back long enough to put a hand on her second-in-command’s shoulder. “Can I have a word in private, sergeant?”

“Of course, General.” He didn’t want to talk to her, but he was a soldier and she was his CO; he followed her dutifully to a deserted corridor where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Don’t listen to Crosshair,” she began. “I know his type. All mouth and no trousers.” She found herself using Alban expressions far more often and naturally around Tor. With him, she could just be her, not a Jedi or a general or anything else.

“That’s not the problem.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself. “You reminded me that you’re eight years older than I am, but for all practical purposes I’m five years older than you. As things stand, you’ll probably outlive me by decades.” Tears sprang to his eyes, and he dropped his gaze, automatically hiding them even from her. “I don’t want to put you through that.”

Oh. That. Foolishly, Helli had hoped it would never become a problem, but her hope was clearly in vain. Her own eyes stinging, she reached out and laid a hand under Torrent’s chin, guiding his head up so that he was looking into them again. “Tor,” she said softly, “ni kar’tayli gar darasuum.” In Mando’a, the phrase that means “I love you” literally translates to “I hold you in my heart eternally”; she stressed the last word, “eternally”. “However long we both live, a day or fifty years, I want to spend that time with you. If you still want to spend it with me.”

“Of course I do.” The tears gone as though by magic, reading permission in her eyes, he bent his head to kiss her.

Crosshair might have had a point. Torrent’s kiss set Helli’s whole being on fire, body and soul, and she was ready and willing to burn. As she kissed him back, she knew he felt the same. (Ironic, given that they both came from rain-soaked planets.) As her arms wrapped around his back, her fingers kept trying to stray to the catches of his armour; he was fighting to keep his hands above her waist. Theirs might be a partnership of hearts and minds, but they were also still young and vulnerable to the demands of biology. Breaking apart and stepping back from each other was the hardest thing either of them had ever done, but they did it. They had more important duties.

“That blasted wedding can’t come soon enough for me,” Torrent murmured as they walked back to the briefing room, hand in hand.

“Nor for me,” Helli agreed. “But don’t try to change the date. I for one would rather face a battalion of clankers than an angry Nhanta.” Nhanta Alloh was one of Helli’s oldest friends and chief planner of their wedding.

“Same here.” As they laughed together, Helli knew for certain that the crisis was over. The storm had passed; the fires were contained. She and her cyare would keep moving forward into the future – together.

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Mando’a glossary (context-adjusted):

Kaminiise: Kaminoans.

Vod’ika: dear brother.

Aay’han: bittersweet moment of mourning and joy.

Cyare: beloved.

“Melt” is, or used to be, Glaswegian slang for “beat up”; “claim” and “banjo” are/were synonymous.

#star wars #The Clone Wars #jedi oc #rex #captain rex #fives #clone trooper fives #arc trooper fives #clone trooper oc #clone trooper spark #hunter #wrecker #tech #crosshair #Anakin #Anakin Skywalker #fanfic #healing au

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evabellasworld · 4 years ago

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Storm of the Republic

Chapter 1

AO3 Link | 1

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Summary: When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

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With a rain of blaster bolts drenched from both sides of the battlefield, ARC Trooper Fives fired towards the Imperial battle droids together with his comrades, Yara and Tup, at the Ringo Vinda space station. The station once belonged to the Galactic Republic, but with their downfall, the Separatist Alliance, which transitioned into the Galactic Empire, managed to capture it. Ever since they outnumbered their forces on Coruscant, the planet fell into the hands of Dooku, who proclaimed himself as Emperor.

Despite that, the trio sticks together as they fight side-by-side on the battleground, looking out for one another. Both ARC Troopers’ bond went all the way back to Kamino, where they were part of the Domino Squad, along with Echo, Hevy, Cutup, and Droidbait, whom they lost along the way. Tup, on the other hand, became closer to them after the events on Umbara.

The battle happened a year ago, when the late Chancellor Palpatine had General Pong Krell took over the 501st Legion temporarily. None of them, including Captain Rex, enjoyed his presence. At one point, Fives and Yara, along with Jesse, were almost executed by the rogue Jedi General until he was shot to death by a rookie, Dogma.

There were days when Fives wondered what had happened to Dogma, though he felt it was best not to question it. The ARC Trooper in blue continued to attack the droids from behind as his real Jedi general, Anakin Skywalker and Padawan Ahsoka Tano, deflected their shots with their lightsaber.

He was aware that Anakin was popular with the ladies, especially Yara. He found it amusing, and when given the chance, Fives would tease her about how she loved him very much, making her cheeks flush. Taking a brief glimpse of his sister, Yara tilted her head towards the droids, leaving him to suppress his laughter.

“Push forward,” Fives heard Anakin’s orders, as they advanced towards their enemies.

“Yes, general,” Yara replied, continuing to bring down the battle droids in her surroundings.

“Stay to my left,” Tup barked towards his siblings-in-arms, when he noticed a fallen but intact battle droid aiming its blaster towards the ARC Trooper, prompting him to warn his brother. “Fives, watch out!”

Before he could answer him, he let out a grunt as Tup pushed him aside towards the wall and popped the droid with his weapon. Sighing in relief, Fives glanced at his younger brother, grateful that he had saved his life. “Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”

“You owe me a lot more than one,” joked Tup, pulling him back on his two feet. Fives nodded as he got back into action, much to Yara’s disapproval.

“You know, we should be focusing on not getting ourselves killed instead of slacking around, am I right?”

“My apologies, ma’am,” Fives snarked, wiggling his fingers. “I’ll do my best in my duty and take responsibility as an ARC Trooper next time.”

Yara held her tongue in annoyance as she inhaled, calming herself like how a Jedi would. One of these days, I feel like smoldering him with a pillow.

On the other side of the station, Jedi Masters Tiplee and Tiplar, who were fraternal twins, defended their men when commando droids were dispatched in the battlefield, killing their men as if they were flies. Forced to take evasive action, Tiplar, the yellow-skinned Mikkian, had no other choice but to give an order to her confidant, Commander Doom. “Tighten our flank!”

Commander Doom, who was clad in green armour from top to bottom, bobbed his head with acknowledgment as they began firing at the commando droids one-by-one, turning them into scraps. Before they were able to catch up with General Skywalker and Padawan Tano, however, he spotted droidekas rolling in their position from the right side of the station, grabbing his generals’ attention as well.

“Shields up!” Tiplar told her men, as she had done this a million times.

“Yes, sir,” her troops obeyed in unison, as they formed a straight line and shielded their soldiers from blaster fires. Reaching through the Force, she lifted the droids in the air, allowing her troops to roll out the droid poppers.

Releasing them from her grasps, it continued to blast towards them when the droid poppers crackled, rendering them into deactivation. Their soldiers lowered their shields as they paced forward and proceeded with the fight.

As the cavalry arrived at the command centre, all four Jedi took down the last Imperial droids as they laid down their weapons, signalling to their troops that the coast was clear, for now. “Don’t get too comfortable,” the brown-haired Jedi instructed, placing his hand on his Padawan’s shoulder. “This battle hasn’t been won yet.”

“Yes, master,” Ahsoka acknowledged. “We’ll discuss our next plan.”

The Republic remnant’s army gathered around as Captain Rex showed the hologram of their battle plan while the rest of them removed their helmets, revealing identical faces. The male clones have tan skin and black, curly hair, while the female clones have dark skin and frizzy hair.

“Master Skywalker, we must get to the command post,” Tiplee pointed out. “Admiral Trench has sent for reinforcements. We must take this post before they arrive.”

“I agree,” the Togruta Padawan crossed her arms. “They would overwhelm us soon enough if we don’t act now.”

Stroking his chin, Anakin contemplated his strategy for a short moment, before fixing his gaze on his troops. “It’s time for Phase 2,” he informed them, marking their location. “We’re at this position. Tiplar, you'll take your men down this passageway, Tiplee, you'll move along here, and Ahsoka, you’re with me.”

“As usual,” she muttered underneath her breath, rolling her eyes.

“They'll have to divide their forces to counter us, and when they do, Rex, Ahsoka, and I will press through the middle. If we time it right, we'll all converge on this spot at the same time, and the droids won't know what hit them.”

“Sounds like a good plan. Any objections?”

“If we're making a run, we'll need backup,” Commander Doom established. “My men are severely depleted.”

Anakin and Ahsoka turned to Fives, Yara, and Tup, ready to receive new commands from the general. “Fives, you, Yara and Tup take ten of your best men and support Master Tiplar.”

“We’re on it, sir,” Fives agreed as the debriefing ended, leaving the three of them alone in the dim room. As he put on his helmet, he noticed Tup’s eyes were twitching and his fingers rubbing between his temples, prodding him to ask. “Hey, you all right?”

“Yeah, I... I just…”

“Come on, this is a textbook battle,” interrupted Fives, slapping Tup’s shoulders lightly. “We've run through this a million times before in training.”

“Yeah, I know…” understood Tup, his head drumming. “I just...I don't feel like myself.”

“What do you mean?” Fives inquired, his tone tightened.

“Are you okay, Tup?” Yara expressed her concerns. “Do you want to see a medic or something? I could accompany you there if you want to.”

He gaped blankly at Master Tiplar, who directed some of her troops to follow her. “Jedi,” Tup uttered in a menacing voice.

“Tup? What's the matter with you?” Fives shook him back to reality. “Do you need to see the medic or something?”

“Uh, no... nothing, I'm fine,” he denied, as he readied his blaster. “Come on, guys. Don't want to be left behind.”

“If you insist,” Yara exhaled as she and Fives tailed him from behind, marching into the next battle. I hope nothing bad happens to Tup.

Meanwhile, Anakin and Ahsoka sliced their way through the droids as Captain Rex and the rest of the 501st blasted them into pieces, while Doom and his troops soon joined the party, along with Master Tiplar.

They continued to clash with the droids as they entered an enormous space, which was swarmed with battle droids. There was a huge glass pane that overlooked the battle outside the station, where Republic pilots were wrangling against the Imperial vulture droids.

At the Imperial command centre, stood Admiral Trench. With spider-like features and cybernetic parts, the admiral watched as his forces were battling against the Republic clone troopers and their Jedi Generals. “Increase our defenses,” he chittered to his tactical droid. “We must hold them here.”

As he observed the battle from above, Tiplar dodged their gunfire with her green lightsaber as Fives and Yara shot down a couple of droids, before turning to their remaining siblings behind them. “Don't fall back!” he shouted. “Push forward!”

He continued to bombard the enemies when he saw Tup standing there in the middle of the fight, rubbing his helmet.

“Tup, hey!” Fives caught his attention. “This is not the time to freeze up! Pull it together, we're almost to the finish line! Come on!”

He heard his brother and knocked himself as he sneaked behind a pole and pointed his blaster towards a spider droid, when he saw Tiplar stabbing it in the eye, causing him to lower his weapon. Spying from afar, Tup took off his helmet as he watched her evade the droids, making his brows furrowed. “Jedi…”

Realizing that she was distracted by the Imperials, the clone trooper with a teardrop tattoo took this opportunity and approached her silently. “Good soldiers follow orders,” he stated in an ominous tone.

Yara and Fives witnessed Tup walking towards the Jedi and called his name profusely, but to no avail. Tiplar warned her fellow soldiers about the droids from their right when she heard the gun cocking behind her.

Thinking that it was an Imperial droid, she peeked behind and faced him, her eyes narrowed. Before she could ask, Fives and Yara sprinted towards their brother to stop him, but it was too late.

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legomocfodder · 5 years ago

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Uploading on an off day because I finally got the pieces I needed. Just a collection of my phase 2 clone troopers.

First row: Arc Trooper Jesse, Commander Cody, Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, and Commando Gregot

Second Row: 332nd trooper, Arc Trooper Echo (bad batch), and Kix.

I based Echo's design of his Bad Batch armor from the unreleased Kashyyk arc. I also custom painted the helmets of Jesse, Wolffe, the 332nd trooper, and all of the yellow on Gregor's armor

NSFW blogs do not reblog!

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letitrainathousandflames · 5 years ago

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Phase Zero

Chapters: 2/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) / Star Wars Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Dehumanization, Forced Surgeries, Prosthesis Aversion, Medical Torture (Mentioned), Angst, Heavy Angst, Sad Ending, Main Characters Death, Suicide Ideation, Suicide Characters: Clone Commander Truce (OC), ARC Trooper Speck (OC) Additional Tags: Empire Era, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Order 66, Angst, Whump, Grief/Mourning, Dysphoria (regarding the prosthesis), Eye Removal Mention will add more Summary: Victims to the sick scientific curiosity of the Kaminoans, the last remainders of the clone trooper army are forced to become more machine than human, and it takes a toll on their mental health, causing despair and suicide ideation.

READ THE TAGS. READ THEM AGAIN. THIS IS HEAVY STUFF, IF IT’S NOT THE KIND OF STUFF YOU LIKE, LEAVE.

@tarantula-hawk-wasp here’s the cont. from that fic

Part I

Speck looked up at the black clone helmet.

“What…?” he blinked once, swallowing dryly. That thing was shy from being as tall as a commando droid “That’s… That’s you, sir?”

The not-droid turned its helmeted face down as if looking at him for a moment before wordlessly standing in attention again. The first commander that had spoken to Speck spoke gingerly to the ARC.

“Listen, we need to escort him back to his quarters.” he raised a hand to gently push Speck out of his way “If you want some advice, don’t get very close.”

Speck took a couple of steps back to then speak up as the troopers resumed walking.

“Wait. W-we can escort him ourselves, sirs. He’s our commander.”

The troopers moved fast, and the thing they claimed to be Speck’s commander followed them close.

“Negative. He needs to adapt back here and a crowd wouldn’t help at all.”

“I’ll do it alone then!” Speck countered, hastily following them “I’m his ARC, I know him well. I can do it.”

One of the commanders stopped at that, glancing at his colleague that stopped shortly after.

“ARC says he can take him.”

“Wha- no.” the other commander said sharply, lowering his tone to speak only to the commander “We have our orders.”

“Yeah, but we both have our own matters to take care of and frankly, the soonest I get away from that thing the better.”

Speck pretended not to hear it, despite being definitely close enough to. There was a small beat, and then the second commander acquiesced.

“Fine. He goes with you.” he sighed, walking towards Speck and lowering his voice “Don’t try to engage with him, alright? That whole process… it messes up a vod for good. I’ve seen it before. Whatever your C.O. was like, that thing isn’t him anymore.”

By then, the colder commander was walking away already, calling his colleague by his number and telling him to hurry up, and so the two of them left Speck with… whatever that thing dressed in black armor was.

Speck could see them talking to his fellow troopers and ushering them out, a few of them looking over their shoulders trying to understand what was going on. Speck turned to look at the tall trooper, walking up to his side.

“Let’s get to the barracks, sir?” he cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound like he always did speaking to Truce “You must be dying for some rest after flying all the way from Kamino.”

The trooper turned his head mechanically to look at Speck to then just march ahead. Speck followed him. That was fine – Truce wasn’t the chatty kind of vod, and he might just be exhausted.

They got to their dorm without speaking a word, and Speck watched in silence as Truce walked up to his bunk, standing before it for a few seconds before finally turning around and sinking down on it.

It was a good thing the commander and ARC had the privilege of a private dorm of their own. It would allow them more peace and quiet than that of the regular trooper’s. Still unsure of how to initiate a conversation, Speck just walked quietly to his bunk on the opposing wall and sat down on his own bed, prying his helmet out of his head and drawing a fresh, unfiltered breath as he placed it down on the floor.

Truce hadn’t moved. He might as well just be a statue. Speck wetted his lips, pressing them together and waiting. The seconds stretched, turning into minutes. He drew another deep breath.

“Sir… I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk, or…” he sighed “I’m here. That’s all.”

Truce remained still for another several moments. Then slowly, very slowly, he brought his hands up to his helmet, gingerly pulling it out of his head.

An involuntary smile curled Speck’s lips for a second as he watched Truce’s chin and mouth be revealed. There was the tan skin of a vod – albeit a tad pale, certainly from the toll of going through several surgical interventions. But that meant this was Truce indeed, a clone just like himself.

The smile faded when Speck noticed the blemished, scarred skin around Truce’s eyes, which now revealed twin pale white irises surrounded by a rim of black – prosthesis. That’s right… Truce’s eyesight was worsening. But the Kaminoans’ solution for that problem was to remove both of the commander’s eyes?

Truce pulled the two black plates over his arms, and Speck kept waiting for him to remove the dark silver plated armor from over them when he saw Truce reveal silver fingers and hands under his gloves.

That wasn’t armor. That was Truce’s prosthetic arms and hands. Speck was still trying to take that in when Truce carefully removed his frontal plate, revealing his chest, which was thankfully still made of flesh.

There were lightning-shaped scars where the metal of his arms met his biological body, and bolts connecting wires from his skin to his prosthesis. There was a myriad of scars over his chest and torso as well, and a faint red light could be seen glowing from under the skin of Truce’s chest where his heart was supposed to be. Two metallic ends protruded from there, surrounded by cauterized skin.

The scalpel and stitch scars on his torso made it clear that his organs had been most likely harvested and replaced with synthetic ones. Speck’s eyes darted down to dark-silver legs, confirming that the commander’s lower limbs had also been cut off and replaced.

Speck could feel his stomach churn, and he swallowed down once, twice before looking his commander in the eye. The man-machine stared at him like he could see his very soul with his white eyes. When he spoke, Speck was almost surprised he didn’t have a metallic-sounding voice like a droid. Instead, his voice was raspy, deep and devoid of emotion.

“I should’ve taken decommission.”

#my fics #phase zero #to post on ao3

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luminousbeansarewe · 4 years ago

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wandering stars

ch 4: the valley

pairings: none || rating: teen || characters: original characters, original clone trooper characters, B’arin Apma (an actual legends Mando trainer for commandos innit)

tags: bullying again

chapter list

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Kamino, Tipoca City, Clone Military Education Complex, 22BBY

“Grip!” shouted CT-2222 from inside his helmet. “We need a cable!”

The clones were bunched at the base of a tall cliff that had materialized out of the network of holoemitters that lined the training room. Above them in the observation deck, B’arin Apma was watching from under his Mandalorian helmet with his arms crossed. The Jedi Shaak Ti, a beautiful and serene Togruta, stood beside him; despite her lack of helmet, she was even more inscrutable than her companion. Sol had given up glancing at them an hour ago. She knew her team was fragile as a flower, barely completing each phase of the grueling terrain drill. But not for lack of skill.

Fumbling momentarily, Grip fished his cable gun out of its holster and shot it up towards the lip of the cliff. It landed, and he gave it a strong tug.

“S’good,” he assured them, and without delay he started to scamper up the wall with the woven durasteel steel rope in his gloved hands. Swift was on his heels, then Twofer. Sol converged with CT-3031 where the gun dangled, jerking oddly with the movements above. She looked through her visor up at the man; he was taller than the others by half a foot, and broader too.

“You should go first,” he said to her. They must’ve had the same doubts about the cable bearing his weight, she thought.

“But Stone, what if you fall?”

“If I do, you can’t catch me anyway, little’un.” It was almost a jab, but not quite. Because he was right.

“Shouldn’t you have talked to your vode about that?” she asked, a little incensed that in their haste the others had left the most vulnerable of their group even moreso. They were distracted, and it showed. Stone only shrugged. “Fine,” she muttered, and seized the cable. One foot in front of the other, she thought as she went. One hand over the other. Three helmets watched her from the top, though she heard Swift saying something about the upcoming terrain. She tried not to glance back down at Stone; if the lifeline broke, it would likely give no warning. Watching would not help.

“Finally,” came Twofer’s voice as Sol hauled herself over the cliff’s edge. Stone was not very far behind her, and when his hand appeared she felt relief.

“There’s a valley next,” Swift informed them as Grip helped tow his brother up to standing and began gathering his cable. “They’ll be firing at us —”

The sound of a blaster turret firing cut him off, the air above their heads sizzling with the passage of a bolt of plasma.

“Cover!” called Twofer, pointing to a cluster of boulders near the head of the valley. As they crouched to scuttle behind it, Swift cursed under his breath.

“We should split up, take out the machines from multiple directions,” Sol said, the image of the valley below in her mind. “There’s spotty cover until about halfway down—”

“First one’s too close,” Swift cut her off. “We should take it out from here.”

“But there’s too many rocks in the way—”

“I can cover you,” Twofer said, and she felt his searing glance even from under the helmet. “If you want to draw its fire.” The young woman did not miss the implication that she was to be the bait.

“Swift needs to cover whoever goes, he’s the best shot,” Grip interjected. “She’s right, the terrain makes it hard to spot from here.”

“Fine,” Swift said. “Who’s going?”

“I am.” Stone was already easing towards the side of the rocks, peeking out around it. “I can take a shot better than the rest of you. Once we’ve cleared it, we should split up and make our way to the next ones.”

“Since when are you on her side?” Swift growled.

“We are all on the same side, vod,” Stone replied, and his low voice had a solemn edge in it. “Cover me.” And he ducked out into the open, turning his blasters towards his target.

“Kriff,” Swift hissed under his breath, spinning around to point his rifle over the rock. Stone had dodged two shots already, moving with more speed than his size belied towards a boulder that was just barely too small to offer the larger clone the cover he really needed. But it was nearest, and the turret’s line of fire was catching up too quickly for him to make it anywhere else.

“Haar’chak!” Swift swore. “I can’t get a clear shot!” Twofer growled at him.

“But you said—”

Before the confusion that had been the hallmark of the entire run could grate itself against her dwindling patience, Sol spun away from the cover they were under in the opposite direction of Stone, sending a volley of plasma towards the turret. It spun and took a shot at her, missing by a hair’s breadth. She hurdled towards another boulder as Swift’s shots continued to miss. She was right, of course. The landscape was not in his favor, no matter how good of a shot he was.

“Hey! What are you doing?” he shouted after her, and suddenly it was a scramble. Grip seemed to realize that the point of splitting up was to draw the turret’s fire in multiple directions, and he ducked out from the boulders to dash towards Stone and take more shots. His larger vod had already begun the descent to another boulder, this one much larger. Twofer and Swift were calling from behind before they finally joined the fray, barely dodging shot after shot.

It was Sol who took the turret down, and had already begun to move towards the second one when Swift started shouting at her.

“GET BACK HERE, WE HAVE TO REGROUP AND STRIKE!”

“WHY?” she hollered back, stopping mid-run. “The same strategy should work all the way down! We’re wasting time!”

“It might work for this one, but the last two fire together!”

“If we fan out we can still—”

“I’m not taking orders from you, aruetii!” His voice grated from behind its layer of comm static. “Now get the hell back here!”

Sol stared at him for a moment, the word like an arrow in her heart. These men knew nothing about her except that she was here on the Jedi’s orders, and she was meant to lead them one day. But the word that meant outsider in her first tongue also meant traitor, and drew fury from her heart faster than any sardonic nickname ever could. A word that had haunted her father in spite of his adamant renunciation of his heritage.

Instead of replying, she turned and took off for yet another outcropping of rock, following her own instinct whether they liked it or not.

-----

The helmet that covered B’arin Apma’s face did nothing to ease the scald of his voice at the end of the drill.

“Cronos Squad,” he began, his ire evident but still subdued. “You have failed spectacularly. You did not work as a team once during this exercise. What do you think bickering on the battlefield will cost you?”

The silence from the cadets who stood at attention in front of him was heavy, anchored in shame.

“CT-3031, do you know what it will cost?” the Mando asked again, leveling his visor at Stone.

“Lives, sir.”

“That’s right. Lives. You will be dead, or your brothers will.” He paused as he turned towards the only one of them with no brothers in the room. “Sol Tannor. You led the disarray today. The valley portion of the drill is the most dangerous section, yet you did not coordinate with your squad. And these are to be your men one day. Because of your obstinance, your descent was sloppy. Ammunitions were wasted—”

“But we didn’t sustain one injury, sir!” she protested, the words leaping out of her throat before she could stop them. At last, her tolerance had worn too thin to keep its failing grip on her temper. That word— aruetii— kept pounding against her head. “And all of the targets were neutralized!”

“I don’t give a damn if you prevented injury or neutralized the targets this time, cadet!” Apma barked. “If you can’t work cohesively as a team, it’s only a matter of time before you will fail at both. Your first loyalty is to your squad, to your team, to your men. I don’t care if you’re a clone or not. While you’re training under me, this is your responsibility. And if you are granted command,” he added in an acid tone, “then it will continue to be so long after me.”

“Yes, sir,” Sol said in a voice that barely contained the shuddering indignation inside her. Nevermind that these men hated her. The tear that slid down her cheek was mercifully hidden by her helmet— the first tear she’d shed in years.

“The rest of you weren’t any better,” Apma said, rounding on the other cadets. “You at no point facilitated cooperation. You forgot your duty, and bickered amongst yourselves instead of working as a team. If you fail the test a second time, I’m recommending you be put on sanitation duty. Dismissed.”

As they filed out of the training hall, Sol felt her cheeks burn beneath her helmet. She kept her breathing steady and deep, barely hiding the tremor in her hands. She thanked whatever gods were left to this place for the grace of a private shower. Before any member of her squad could level a scalding remark her way, she marched directly there to wither under the hot water.

When she returned to her bunk, all the men were scowling at her. Even Stone, usually so nonplussed, looked darkly at her before glancing away. Swift’s glare was the sharpest of all, and the silence was worse than any jab. She retreated into the wall as quickly as possible, pushing away the fear that this army was yet another path that would perish beneath her feet; that she had no home anywhere, after all.

#star wars fanfic #swtcw #swtcw fanfic #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper ocs #my fic #my ocs #cronos squad

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jastervhett · 8 days ago

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Phase-I Clone Trooper Armor

Although the Phase-II Clone Trooper Armor always got a lot of love…The Phase-I Clone Trooper Armor was always the best design to me due to the Phase-I Armor's likeness to Jango Fett's Mandalorian Armor.

From the Phase-I Clone Trooper Armor. To the Phase-I Clone Commando Katarn-Class Armor. And especially the Phase-I ARC Trooper Armor with its numerous Mandalorian influences (Helmet mounted Rangefinder, Kama, Jetpacks, Wrist Rockets, etc.)

Phase-I Armor for the Win...!

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residentapothecary · 5 years ago

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Kote’s Introduction to Delta Squad

{ this is just a little thing that y’all can read if you want }

————

“Your methods are not good enough for our standards.”

“Not good enough? These commandos are elite, they are killers. How could that be ‘not good enough’?”

“Perhaps they might be too harsh,” a woman’s voice piped up from behind the arguing Mandalorian and Kaminoan. The Mandalorian spun around demonstratively, his brows furrowed and face wrinkled.

“Excuse me?” He sniped, crossing his arms. The woman approached the two, brown cape flowing ever so lightly behind her. The older man huffed upon seeing the woman’s armor.

“So you’re transferring just any Mandalorian now, huh?” The man rolled his eyes and seethed, “My methods are just fine. I don’t need some little wanna-be interfere in my leadership and training of the Deltas.” His voice was coarse and mean, but that didn’t seem to phase the young woman any.

“This is Walon Vau. We have elected to keep him in charge of all operations involving the training and missions including Delta squad. Walon Vau, this is Kote Medrit. She is like you, here as a part of the Cuy’val Dar. We have also elected to bring her on board to assist in the training and missions including Delta squad.” Lama Su explained. “Her last squad was—“

“I don’t care. I don’t need any assistance.” Vau huffed, turning on his heels. “But do what you need to do. Since I’m in charge, go introduce yourself to the team and see how they like you.” He waved his hand as to brush off the young Mandalorian woman, walking away.

Kote glances upwards to the Kaminoan minister, shook her head and made way to a corridor that led to a small lounging area for the commandos only. Choosing not to dwell on how her new boss was an asshole, she rounded a corner and was greeted by a wide open room with only four clone commandos scattered about.

They each had armor that adorned different colors— from orange, to green, to yellow, to red. Distinguishable. The one in green armor looked up the moment she turned the corner into the archway of the lounge room.

“Can we help you?” The clone said sharply, as if she were disturbing them.

“I—“ she started.

“We know who you are. Listened to the conversation from earlier with Vau and Lama Su.” He interrupted, and then stood.

“I’m Delta Four-Oh,” he introduced himself.

“But we all just call him Fixer. He’s way too uptight for his own good. Glad you’re here, you seem pretty legit. Always cool to see another Mandalorian, and you’re a chick. Badass. I’m Scorch, or Six-Two. Whatever works,” the one in yellow hopped up and approached Kote, hand outstretched to her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said with a gentle smile and firm handshake.

“That’s Boss over there, he’s doing some work on his holopad right now. Hey! Boss!” Scorch called out, and Boss jolted his head up. He stood and made his way over towards the new comer, rendering a salute.

“No need for formalities right now,” she said with a light laugh. “Welcome to Delta squad,” Boss said with a grin.

“We’re a pretty solid mess.” Scorch added, “Oh, and that’s Sev. He’s troubled mentally.”

“Shut it, Scorch, or I’ll bottle you.” Sev said with a deep growl behind his words.

“You’ll what now?” Scorch chuckled, “I’ll beat you upside the head with Fixer’s manuals.”

“Like hell you won’t,” Sev hissed back, cleaning off his rifle. Kote simply stood and observed the dynamic, before her observation time was cut off by a rather sudden comment.

“This is our time off. We’ll see you in training. Hope you’re up to standard in teaching.” Fixer said, with next to no emotion behind it. Kote got the gist, and nodded.

“See you in a few hours. Be sure to—“

“Yeah, yeah. We know what to do.” Fixer waved her off, while Scorch slapped Sev upside the head which in turn sparked a wrestle fight, Boss frustratingly typing away at his holopad, and Fixer getting up to try and separate the two fighting.

She shook her head slightly, putting on her white and gold helmet.

They were indeed Walon Vau’s boys.

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b-radley66 · 7 years ago

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Far Away - Chapter 1

Reading @sl-walker‘s excellent Blackbirds: Year One has inspired me to re-visit the Clone War and clone OCs. Some may recognizes a couple of these characters from a prompt I gave her to interact these OCs with the Blackbirds.

This may have a couple of parts. Some of this may stem from too much listening to eighteenth-century British Army marching songs while working. Hope you enjoy!

Riddle sits away from the large group of troopers laughing and singing and cleaning weapons on the hangar bay of the massive Stardestroyer. He cannot bring himself to join in the ribald jokes, ancient stories, and songs—the hallmark of this new unit and its newly promoted Jedi general. A unit that he would not be part of after this week. He stares at the piece of flimsi with his orders.

Orders that would send him away from his batch-mates. All because of some karked-up desire to remake the 332nd into an all-ARC, elite battalion with a cadre of Republic Commandos as its leadership. A unit that a mediocrity like himself could never be a part of. Especially with that goddamned perfectionist as a Sergeant-Major.

Riddle clinches his teeth as he thinks of the last straw—a straw that would send him away. The failure of his final Selection trial for ARC trooper status.

His third try. He closes his eyes as the shame rises. Riddle opens them, and shifts his gaze to the object next to his feet. A standard trooper bucket in the new Phase II style. A bucket that had begun life wrapped in forest green, but had transformed as the battalion had transformed—even before the latest shift.

A unit that had been forever changed by three people. The first, a tall, serene Togruta, whose trademark patience was marked by humor and a focused intensity and passion during battle. A woman who Riddle had watched hold their dying commander in her arms, as his blood stained her robes. A woman who had not flinched as many Jedi would have from his whispered entreaty in their adopted language as he breathed his last.

Buir.

Mother.

She had quietly closed his eyes, then closed her own. Riddle had been struck by the pain. At that moment, he had not believed what he had heard from his fellow troopers about Jedi.

Jedi do not love.

Riddle was not sure what the word meant. He grins ruefully. He was pretty sure his frantic grapplings with his batch-mates in showers and berths had nothing to do with it.

He was sure that what he had felt and seen from General Ti was something damned close. He runs his hands over the right side of the helmet; the side still in a similar shade to the original color, albeit with a tiny hint of black in it. A color that Bozo, the new comm/tech Sergeant had said in one of his pedantic lectures (a trait he shared with their Jedi), had come from that same Jedi’s world.

His thumb moves over the right eye. An eye surrounded by pure white, as well as marked by a tiny vertical rectangle above the vision slit. The same markings that had surrounded and surmounted the pained, violet eyes of that Jedi master as Commander Horn’s blue eyes had gone vacant.

Riddle grins as his hand moves over to the left side of the bucket. A side now painted in a bright orange. Orange again broken up by white, but in different patterns. His thumb traces the wing-marking on the plastoid cheek, then up to the diamond and wavy lines on the forehead.

The marks of a younger huntress—still growing in her skill. A girl, no, a young woman, older than he and his brothers in years, but younger in experience and training. A Padawan only a month or two removed from her Temple training, but already a veteran of a violent campaign on Christophsis when she and her master’s battalion had joined them on the Suck.

A young Jedi who had proven herself as she led a company of survivors of the 332nd to cover their withdrawal with the captured insurgent leader. A battle that had left her with broken ribs and a banged-up head. Injuries that had not diminished her snark, especially when directed at her fellow, older Padawan. A man who now leads them as a full knight and General. Knighted, it is said, by that same young Togruta’s steady hand on her lightsaber.

His brothers had said that the young woman, Tano, had been a student of their General’s before the war. When the world was calmer and an illusion of peace had been the norm. Some had even said that she had saved his life, when she was even younger, in a Hunt on her world. A Hunt in which she had earned those teeth that decorated her head.

Riddle had once again been witness to another moment. A moment as Tano boarded the shuttle with her master and left the RMSU. He had seen a gamut of emotions in General Croft’s eyes. Emotions that Riddle was unfamiliar with. He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, awaiting yet another dressing down from Drop when he had heard Croft talking to the huge Sergeant-Major. He had heard raw words of pride in his student. Of pain in letting her go. Of fear of the unknown in a dark universe.

Riddle had been surprised when Drop, the bane of Riddle’s existence, had taken their General into an embrace.

The warm feelings had diminished when the Null had turned his attention to Riddle.

Riddle’s eyes turn to movement near a Jedi fighter in the hangar bay. The third Jedi who had impacted the 332nd and the Commandos comes into view. The former Padawan of the first General. A man known to his troopers as the Besslara Verd, the Warrior Bard, for his willingness to share their stories and songs. For his willingness to share their pain, grief, and triumph.

Riddle watches a crooked grin flows to Croft’s features, as he watches the singing and laughing. Riddle grins himself, as he notices the slightly changed look of the Jedi. Still with a full beard, but not the Wookiee-like adornment that had fallen to Croft’s chest before he became a General, or had crept up towards his eyes on his cheekbones. A beard and hair that had peeked out from below the cowl of the trooper helmet he had adopted during the campaign.

Respectability.

At least as respectable as the Corellian’s snark and humor towards his troops would allow. Riddle is sure that certain members the Jedi council might dispute that label.

He watches as more pain flows over Croft’s face. He sees him steel himself and walk over to the group of clones. In spite of himself, Riddle rises and moves closer to watch the interplay between a General and his troops.

An interplay that he would no longer be a part of.

#star wars: the clone wars #original characters #clonetroopers #adventures in fanfic writing #yes think zz-top when you think of croft’s original shadow look

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deer-head-xiris · 8 years ago

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Clone Trooper YCH WIP (opinions appreciated!)

hey! I’ve got a sketch of the pose for my Clone Trooper YCH, do y’all think this is a good base to go off of?

if it’s good, I’ll line this and I’ll add phase 2 helmet and helmet-less variants, as well as a separate armor set (also with no helmet option) for clone commandos! Full pricing will be listed later with the official YCH post but i think the standard for a single clone (with no added accessories) will be about $10

what do y’all think?

#deer noises #clone trooper #ych #star wars #star wars: the clone wars

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canuckianhawkbi · 8 years ago

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so my little sister got me involved in her friends’ Star Wars homebrew tabletop...

and they want me to play Captain Fordo, since I’m voicing him in the upcoming motion comic Panic Over Muunilinst, which is great since it means I’m clearly in good company – but what’s awesome is the GM let me create my own equipment and abilities for everyone’s favourite ARC! since I love playing Fordo so much, I thought I’d share my written work with you all!

to create the list I’ve combined my experience playing tabletop games like D&D with my knowledge of Clone Wars (both the 2003 and 2008 series), Republic Commando (both the game and the books) and my friend Joe Hogan’s motion comics (past and future!) I won’t make anyone uninterested scroll through this, so you can read it below the cut!

ARC Trooper Alpha-77 “Fordo” equipment and abilities

Equipment:

Custom Phase 2 Clone Trooper helmet: this helmet is loaded with life support, communications, and sensory hardware above and beyond that of the average clone soldier. While using it, Fordo has double the sensory and comlink range of standard clones, and can survive in the vacuum of space for 20 minutes, similar to a Republic Commando. “This’ll do just fine, general” – Fordo

Jetpack: a similar design to the one worn by Jango Fett before his death. While wearing it, Fordo can fly across difficult or absent terrain, or ascend and descend to higher and lower areas. The jetpack contains enough fuel for five such uses before running dry. “You go together like Mandalorians and jetpacks” – unknown

Knuckleplate Vibroblades: standard equipment for Republic Commandos, the blades that extend from Fordo’s gauntlets allow him to deal extra melee damage with a sharpened punch. “Ne shab’rud’ni” – a Mandalorian warning against messing with the speaker

Twin custom DC-17s Sidearm blasters: Fordo’s signature firearms, these self-recharging heavy pistols feature double the range, stopping power, and energy cell life of their standard-issue counterparts. “Always double-tap” – Fordo

Clone Trooper’s thermal detonator: worn on the back of most clone utility belts is a high-yield cylindrical grenade that can be programmed on a timer or to be remotely detonated. “Dets away!” – Garven Dreis, Red Leader

Thermal detonators: spherical munitions used by warriors across the galaxy, including clone troopers of the GAR. “Make their eyes water” – Kal Skirata

EMP grenades: also called “droid poppers,” these devices are built to release a small electromagnetic pulse, rather than exploding. “Droid them!” – unknown Republic Commando

Abilities:

Ambidextrous: while armed with a pistol in both hands, Fordo makes one attack with each as a standard attack; if armed with only one pistol, Fordo can make a melee strike with a free hand as one of these attacks

Double-Tap: once per turn while wielding a blaster pistol, carbine, or rifle, Fordo may choose to make two shots instead of one

Agile Fighter: Fordo can disengage from melee combat without being attacked by his opponent, this includes using his jetpack if he is wearing it and it has fuel

Captain’s Orders: while in combat alongside friendly clone characters or NPCs, Fordo can sacrifice his movement on a turn to move a lower-ranked trooper instead – alternatively, he can order the clone to make a standard melee or ranged attack by sacrificing his own attack action

She’s Your Type: Fordo gains advantage on attack rolls while wielding a Z-6 rotary blaster cannon

“Eliminate Target” Fordo can mark a single enemy at a time, he and friendly clone characters and NPCs gain advantage on attack rolls against that target while they can hear him; on any turn or when the target is destroyed, Fordo can move the mark to a different enemy

Inspiring Soldier: Fordo’s allies gain advantage on attack rolls while he is also fighting and can be seen

Hardened Equipment: Fordo’s weapons and armour are immune to the effects of electromagnetic pulses and ion discharges

“Nice Skirt, Machine Washable?” friendly clone characters and NPCs gain advantage on Charisma-based saves while Fordo can be seen

all in all I’m really excited to get to play Fordo again, especially in a tabletop game like this. do you like what I’ve written? let me know!

#star wars #rpg #role playing game #tabletop #homebrew #clone trooper #arc trooper #captain fordo #fordo #arc-77

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multi-muse-transect · 8 years ago

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Death from Above and Beyond

AU: Mira Wren Bridger or at the time as agent Mira joins and her teammates receive a mission to take down invading insurrectionists in the mountains. As always, Mira belongs to @meldy-arts. Inspired by the TIE fighters animated short.

Agent Mira sits alongside her teammates in the drop ship looking at her First Order-issue Mandolorian helmet. It resembles more of a super commando’s really. Beside her is Blackjack, a Mirialan agent who is the daughter of the Seventh Sister, she was born from a mother who left her in the care of her father who was a stormtrooper and fled the battle of Jakku to raise her under the First Order. Blackjack was given to her as a nickname turned codename due to her gambling habits and somewhat cocky attitude. A skilled sniper and CQC specialist, Thrawn ordered her recruitment after she honed her skills with an Inquisitor lightsaber. She is wearing an armored dark blue version of a deathtrooper armor.

Then there was Zuke, an explosives and support specialist, he wasn’t that bright but he knew his ways around explosives and heavy weapons. Zuke is silent but whenever he speaks, its something either wise or a smug comment. His armor is a First Order heavy armor that is twice his body size. Like all armor colors, his color is dark blue but with a red stripe on it.

Piloting the ship is Lena “Convore” Tua, the daughter of Maketh Tua. She was once a TIE fighter and the best there is hence why she was chosen. Smart and playful, Convore is the team’s mother in a way and cares for them even risks her own life to save her team. Her armor is a lightly armored suit that is colored dark blue like the others complete with a TIE fighter pilot helmet.

Then there was him, the son of a legend and a traitor to the empire but redeems his father’s name by joining the First Order-Kallus Jr. The son of agent Kallus Sr. He was recruited by the First Order while retaining his sense identity and works his way around things. Known for his relentless attitude, he is the leader of this fireteam he leads known as fireteam spectra. Back then it was only him, Lena, and Mira but the team seats began to grow and grow. His armor resembles more of a mix between a clonetrooper phase five armor and First Order stormtrooper armor at the same time.

The mission for today is to end an attack caused by the local insurrectionists the rescue and intelligence division has been fighting for years. They are waiting for a debrief from director Thrawn.

“This is strange....” Mira muttered causing Blackjack to turn to her with her eyebrow raised.

“What?” Blackjack replied.

“An attack from the insurrectionists, its....Coordinated. Most previous attacks were clumsy but this one was out of nowhere.” She replied.

“Maybe they have a new general on their side.....Or perhaps they have someone within the Resistance helping them.” Kallus guessed.

“The Resistance would never work for those monsters. Especially when they almost killed general Organa so their crazed child-killing leader could be the leader of the Resistance which then escalated to a civil war on both sides. We actually had to help the Resistance once also because they tried to use an defunct imperial chemical weapon project.” Zuke added.

“Indeed....Unless the Resistance has an intelligence officer. Call it a hunch but there is usually someone within a faction being the uber-black ops three-sixty no scope person within them. Which supports boss’s theory that they could have Resistance ties.” Blackjack smirked.

“Or they just starting thinking instead of killing innocent people in brutal ways to scare to us into submission.” Convore suggested.

“That could be it....You never know.” Mira agreed. The hologram comes up causing all agents to rise. Its director Thrawn. He is wearing a white uniform and cape also has graying hair.

“Agent, as you know the mission is to push back insurrectionist forces from our weapons facility. As you all know, the facility houses dozens of projects the First Order holds secret. If these fall into enemy hands, the results will be catastrophic.” The Chiss said.

“Indeed....But sir, this attack is-”

“Unexpected. Coordinated. Very unpredictable. I suspect some kind of tie to an outside party that is not Resistance at all. Anyway, the insurrectionists are bombarding the base with artillery canons. Trapping our troopers in. I want your team to bring down those guns so our main forces can move in and finish the task at hand.” Thrawn thoroughly explained as the team nodded.

“It will be done sir.” Kallus nodded. All agents are loyal to the director in many ways, he inspires creativity within them and gives them the choice to be their own person at the same time. Something most stormtroopers don’t have unlike an agent. Agent training is varied depending on the recruit’s choice, they can pick courses like imperial super commando training, clone commando training, inquisitor training and many more sprinkled in with minor classes that will build up their own identity. Mira took up super commando training hence why she is so crafty with a jetpack and coupled with saber training with cyborg Kaleesh drill sergeant Smain.

“You heard the man, lets get out there!” He ordered. The floor opens to reveal an arsenal table rising. All weapons for each individual agent. Zuke picks up a Vulk TAU-6-23 "Blastmill” rifle alongside his trusty rocket launcher. Blackjack picks up her inquisitor lightsaber and sniper rifle alongside her CA-87 sawed off shotgun. Mira picks up her traditional Mandolorian rifle, dark saber, and burst fire grenade launcher while Kallus chooses his standard AC280F rifle. After putting on their thruster packs, the hatch begins to open as they ready their weapons.

“Fireteam Specter, the light is green!” Kallus yelled before putting on his helmet which resembles a clone trooper one. Zuke does the same while Blackjack does also alongside Mira then jump off the ship. All around them is enemy ships utilizing old CIS models much to their shock but focus on the objective.

The group stays in formation while using their thruster packs to maneuver themselves.

“Coms check!” Kallus ordered as he glides in the air.

“Zuke online.”

“Blackjack ready.”

“Mira on the go!”

“Weapons free!” Kallus yelled. The team strafes to the left since there is a mountain in front of them and avoids it. An enemy drop ship rises in front of Zuke causing him to quickly activate his dome shield around him causing it to crash through the ship and destroy it. Blackjack uses her thruster pack to dash herself forward then activates her inquisitor lightsaber to slices up enemy jet pack troopers. Mira spots a sniper on a cliff as she is heading straight towards him causing her to quickly shoot him.

“Sniper down!” Mira notified. The group strafe up before landing on the ground while running. Kallus rifle butts a soldier in the face then gunning him down as Blackjack leaps in the air then throws her saber like a spear at a soldier thus impaling him before she pulls out her CA-87 to shoot another one in the face before picking it up and running alongside Kallus. Mira joins in with them as she activates her dark saber to impale an incoming soldier who turns to her but is decapitated instead before she switches to rifle and shoots two soldiers shooting at them while running and joining Kallus and Blackjack Zuke fires his weapon as he runs and mows down many soldiers along the way then switching to his rocket launcher to destroy a turret that was shooting at him before regrouping with Kallus, Blackjack, and Mira. An enemy gunship rises to shoot at them as they slide down to dodge its incoming shots with Convore taking it down.

“Thanks for the support!” Blackjack thanked. Another enemy gunship arrives but turns with the soldiers getting out but Blackjack jumps towards the opening to pull out her saber again then swings it to slice a soldier in half and pulling out her shotgun to gun down his captain right before pulling her grenades then jumping out while regrouping with her team. Zuke fires his rocket launcher again at a large group of enemies before grabbing one by the throat and slamming him on the ground before Kallus leaps over him and shoots two soldiers who were about to shoot Zuke then throws a sticky grenade at an incoming enemy tank which to whom Zuke avoids alongside Mira and Blackjack. The tank is destroyed with Convore dodging enemy fire and destroying ships at the same time. They run towards a cliff then leap in the air as soldiers turn around but they are killed by a hail of blaster fire.

In front of them is the artillery cannon firing at the base as the insurrectionists exchange enemy fire with the troopers within the base. Convore lowers herself to give them fire support which she does thus killing many soldiers and injuring more before a shot almost hits her causing her to fly off since its too hot. Kallus leads them as he fires his rifle at a dazed enemy soldier who regains his focus but he is shot in the chest instead right before grabs another soldier then flips him over and shoots him in the face. Blackjack and Zuke take cover as more soldiers arrive with Mira identifying them.....Partisans. Her eyes widen since she thought this group was killed in Jedha alongside Saw Gerrera. But now is not the time for questions. Mira and Blackjack leap over cover as Kallus and Zuke give them suppressing fire with the two pulling out their individual sabers. Mira slices a partisan’s gun half before impaling him while Blackjack slices one in half. The last two are shot in the face by Kallus and Zuke.

“The artillery gun is upstairs, move it!” Kallus ordered.

“Alright, alright already!” Blackjack sighed. A surviving soldier gets up with his rifle raised at her head causing her to discharge her saber from her back to impale him in the chest. The group head upstairs to the deck and into a hallway with a door in front of it. It slides open causing the group to drop their jaws at the sight on who it is.

Standing in front of them is space pirate Hondo Ohnaka.

“Well this is a very interesting team. I thought you were Knights of Ren back there.” He observed.

“Save the talk pirate! What do you want from this base?!” Mira replied.

“Riches untold, that sort of thing. Also doing a job for an old friend of mine and giving me those friendly gentlemen you brutally killed.” Hondo answered sarcastically. Rolling out near him is a group of droidekas, the insurrectionists use old Separatist technology to gain the upper hand.

“Hence why the insurrectionists are so coordinated. Partisan intervention.” Kallus replied.

“Indeed! Now excuse me, I have valuable data to send to. Take care of them boys!” The droideka’s activate their shields and begin to fire at them causing the team to take cover.

“Shit, not these things again!” Zuke groaned. Kallus gets out of cover and returns fire then gets back. He looks around then up at the ceiling then blasts it.

“Mira, you’re the only one who can fit it! Eliminate Ohnaka before he uploads whatever he has in store to his contact!” Mira nods then is lifted by Zuke. She crawls through the ventilation while looking down on the firing droids before looking back up. Mira arrives in the room to see Hondo talking to someone.....Ezra Bridger.

“Like I said, those cannons-” Mira slams the vent open and aims her rifle at him. Hondo turns around with his arms raised.

“Okay then....Never underestimate an agent.” Hondo said.

“Whatever you’re uploading, take it out. NOW.” Mira ordered.

“I’m quite sure there’s another way. Maybe take a little bit of-THIS!” He grabs a concussion grenade which explodes on impact knocking Mira’s helmet away as she shoots the screen with Ezra on it who has a look of pure terror and worry for his old friend.

“Hondo! Are you there!?” Ezra cried.

“I am Ezra and-” Hondo turns around to see Mira unmasked with her helmet on the ground knocked off. His jaw drops at the sight....This is Ezra’s daughter. The daughter thought long to be dead but not at all. Mira aims her rifle at Hondo.

“You....You don’t want to do this.” His voice turns serious and almost pleading to her.

“What? You’re scared now?” Mira replied. Hondo aims his gun at Mira.

“No, I don’t wish to cause more pain to your family. Listen to me...I have something to say about you.”

“Hondo, what are you saying!?” Ezra replied on the coms. Before Hondo can open his mouth, Mira guns him down immediately before interrupting the connection by removing the data-drive connected to the computer.

“Hondo! Hondo! Can you hear me!? Hondo?!” Ezra yelled before Mira loots his dead body and finds the droid deactivation remote then picks up her slightly cracked helmet and puts it on. Mira deactivates the droidekas shooting at her team then heads out as they move towards her.

“Lets destroy those guns.” Kallus said before Mira nods. They head upstairs as the group guns down the crew. Zuke places an explosive device on it causing them to leap over the railing as he uses his detonator to set off the explosive thus destroying the guns. Kallus activates his coms.

“Sir, the guns have been destroyed.” He informed.

“I read you loud and clear agent Kallus.” Thrawn replied. Suddenly, the star destroyer known as the Chimaera arrives with a flurry of TIE fighters following it and open fire on the Insurrectionists. Mira is disturbed by the talk she had with Hondo.....What did he mean by family? She shakes her head as Blackjack offers her a fist bump which Mira gives her in return while Zuke does the same and Kallus too. Convore arrives and opens the hatch of her ship as they get in for a job well done.

#star wars rebels #mira wren bridger #mira au #first order

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wilsonisnotsorry · 8 years ago

Text

Duty

Illum never seemed to change, the same frost, same wind, same silence as always. The night sky of the planet displaced between the twinkling void above and the soaring clouds rushing across it. Jagged spires of frozen rock and crystal clear ice formed an otherworldly silhouette around the ravine, the towering colossal formation leading towards a single point. Nestled against the frozen glacial face, ornate stone rose from the snow padded ground, rising up to make the arched entrance of the Jedi Temple. C-78914 leaned against a pile of crates by the entrance, huddled close to one of the portable heater units so commonly used by the Republic. His fingers already felt numb, phase one armor wasn’t made for this kind of cold, and the clone silently began wishing he had been awarded one of those commando armor sets. The black T-shaped visor of his helmet already began to frost over, making visibility pointless. The clone simply sighed, grabbed his standard issue DLT-19, and began to make his rounds again. C-78914, or Vek as his squad called him, always hated the cold. It made the nub of his severed left arm ache, and the nerve connections of his cybernetic always seemed to flare up in irritation as a response. Still, he knew that complaining was the mark of a lesser man ; the mark of a protocol droid, not a clone. He circled around the sparse speeder pad, checking the covers for the bikes and securing the connections that the wind had ripped loose, before then heading back for the entrance to the Temple. He’d been to Illum before, many times in fact, such was the life serving under General Selna’ryn. She often took her squadron to the backwater worlds, mostly to protect and garrison Jedi sanctuaries in case of separatist attacks, but also because of her padawan. Vek still remembered being given his new assignment years ago after losing his arm, being forced out of his glorious days of being a Republic Navy fighter pilot...to become a babysitter. That seemed like a lifetime ago rather than just a year. He ducked his head down, stepping through the low hanging doorway, entering the stone antechamber. Dimly lit chem torches showered the stone floor tiles with a green hue, radiating up the pillars slightly only to leave the high ceiling above in darkness. Vek reached up, grabbing at the bottom of his helmet with his left hand, while his right leaned the long blaster rifle back against his shoulder. “We’re all clear General, speeders are secure.” Vek replied with the crisp no nonsense tone all clones seemed to share. The twi’lek dipped her head in acknowledgement slightly, eyes closed while she sat silently on the temple’s floor with her legs folded. She made no other motion other than a smile as she replied. “Thank you Vek, and what of Hun?” Her eyes opened, slowly moving to push herself to stand as the bulky brown robes of her order shifted with the motions. “Still outside, doing those motions you wanted. Should I get the speeders ready to return to base camp, General?” Vek grinned, his tone not even bothering to try and hide his hopeful suggestion. “I’m afraid the padawan and I have one last matter to attend to here, deeper in the temple. I’ll go retrieve him. Please continue your rounds trooper, we will not be much longer.” the twi’lek responded, moving for the door. It was always odd to Vek, how someone with such grace and soft nature, was always the one in the thickest of battle. He’d seen the General fend off wave after wave of battle droids from the Liberation of Vekton III to the Seige of the Red Expanse. Yet outside of battle she always was so, serene. Her expression always so thoughtful, it seemed to time and time again throw Vek through a loop. He quickly snapped to attention as she walked by him however, barking out the customary response. “Yes ma’am.”

He relaxed as the robed woman disappeared outside into the snow, moving to tug back on his helmet. He had just began to secure the neck seam of his body suit when his wrist-comm began to flash. He secured the sling of his rifle, hanging the blaster along his back before punching the transmit with an index finger, his helmet modulating his voice through the built in speakers. “Harrier Four here, what’s your status.” Vek said. “Harrier Four, incoming priority transmission to Harrier Squadron, stand-by.” Priority transmission? He thought silently, his training and conditioning kicking in putting all his senses on high alert. His wrist-comm blinked again, but oddly transmitted the message to the speakers inside his helmet. “The time has come...execute Order 66.”

Vek couldn’t recognize the voice, and for a moment was confused, after all... What the kriff was Order 66?

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