Author's Note: Spoilers, if you haven't played the game or read Order 66! Also, this is my first fic in a long while, and I basically got the sudden mental image of a weird armor shrine, and wrote the middle first. And I don't actually know what Wookiees do with their dead, but tree-mausoleums seemed as good as anything.
Star Wars stuff belongs to Lucas, Kid belongs to me.
Comments and concrit much, much appreciated.
Scorch couldn't for the life of him get used to the new kid. He was pale and skinny, and by his estimation, about two inches too short. And while technically he was the same age (perhaps even a few years younger) as the young man sitting across from him in the transport, Scorch and his brothers looked to be in their middle thirties. They showed it to varying degrees, while this kid looked every bit as young as his almost-twenty years.
All their other replacements- and there'd been many over the past five years, on account of the Centex boys just not being up to their standards- had at least had the Fett face. Younger, yes, acted wrong, yes, been right di'kute, absolutely- but at least they'd looked like vode. This one had the wrong face and a family and Coruscanti accent. He had a picture of his mother, for fierfek's sake. His name was Ixar Tephi, which Scorch thought was funny because it sounded like a droid designation. They refused to acknowledge he had a name though, and just called him Kid. He didn't protest it at all, which Scorch found slightly disappointing.
It was actually a habit they'd gotten into around the fourth guy, as they'd started finding it harder to care. Why bother remembering names or numbers when they probably weren't going to stick around anyway? It wasn't as though they neglected the rookies or left them to die- just that none of them could keep up. They made stupid mistakes, and the middle of a mission was a terrible place to retrain someone.
This Kid was doing okay though, relative to his predecessors. Still stupid sometimes, but apparently lucky as hell. This would be his sixth mission with them. No one had lasted that long since- well, since the last time they went to Kashyyyk.
Kid rapped his knuckle plate on his thigh rhythmically. It was a nervous tic of his.
"Stop it." ordered Fixer. He'd never had any patience for any of the new guys, this nonclone least of all.
"Sorry." replied the rookie sheepishly. He moved his hand, and was quiet for a moment. Then he started idly rapping on the hull. Fixer made an eloquent noise of irritation over the helmet link and Scorch suppressed a smile.
The fair-skinned brunet ran a hand through his cropped hair, a sure sign that he was about to ask something.
"Question, Kid?" Scorch asked before he could open his mouth. To his amusement, the kid still looked surprised when he did that.
"Uh, yeah." He blinked. "You guys have… been to Kashyyyk before, right?" he inquired tentatively. Instantly, Fixer's shoulders tensed up. Scorch imagined he did much the same, though it's a reasonable question.
Udesii, ner vod, udesii." Scorch soothed through a suddenly clenched jaw, over the private link. Fixer got up, and went to join Boss up front with the pilot. To Kid, Scorch said coolly "Yeah. We did."
"During the Clone Wars?"
"No, while we were on vacation." Scorch snapped irritably. "Yes, the Clone Wars. When the Jedi and the Wookies were on our side. Last time, we were killing Trannies instead of protecting slavers, and we lost our sniper. Happy?"
That shut him up. Most of it was the kind of thing he wouldn't dare say back in the barracks with their fellow spooks- and they were spooks now. Storm Commandos, black hats meant to scare- but it was the mention of Sev that made Kid go instantly silent. He'd learned early that while they were more than happy to tell stories about the demises of previous replacements, discussion of their brother, the original fourth Delta was strictly off-limits.
In the silence that followed, Scorch stared blankly, not at Kid but at his black plastoid armor, exactly like his own. It reminded him of Omega. They were all gone now, even Dar and Niner and the two rookies who had filled out their roster. It reminded him of Sergeant Vau, who'd vanished with Skirata and the rest of his gang. In a way, he was glad. It meant they'd never had to face him for leaving Sev behind.
That was going to eat at him this whole mission, he knew- the memories of their last battle. Those memories always haunted him, but now- as they were sent back to Kashyyyk to deal with a threat to slaving operations- the fact that they'd left a brother behind became all the more inescapable.
Their welcome was, understandably, not nearly as warm as their last visit. The Wookiees of the village watched them with even more suspicion than the regular Imperial personnel, obviously not reassured by the Empires promises that 'only rabble rousers and dissidents' would be enslaved. Though in fairness, the entire population of Kashyyyk was probably pretty well dissident. Scorch didn't blame them.
They were met at the dock by a thin man name Therwifth with a Coruscanti accent, a junior advisor for the Sector Moff and overseer for the planetary situation on Kashyyyk. From the way he looked at the Wookiees and the way he described this wonderfully vague 'threat' Scorch thought he sympathized with them, a little.
"Not a Wookie," the slight man stressed for the umpteenth time. "And not your average predator. No, definitely humanoid. The locals claim it's a ghost. I don't believe it for a moment of course, but-"
[It is a ghost.] stated a Wookiee who apparently acted as his aide. The translator in Scorches ear repeats the message in an annoying droid-voice. [A vengeful ghost from the last war, still wet with the blood of his enemies…]
"Yes, well, the descriptions we've heard are quite shocking." says Therwifth nervously. "But inflated, I'm sure. For one, I doubt a single man could wipe out entire patrols. But whatever it is, it's never attacked a Wookie- only slavers."
[Of course.] the Wookiee grumbles with a pointed stare at the squad. [The ghost, at least, remembers what side he was on.] Therwifth ignores the jab.
"Most of the attacks have been close to one area- Sharrawna can take you." He says, indicating his Wookiee companion. Sharrawna made a noise that the translator refused to render but Scorch swore sounded like a bemused chuckle.
Several hours later, Sharrawna was leading them down a tree limb as wide as a Coruscant skylane.
[This is pointless.] she informed them. [You cannot kill a ghost.]
"If I it is a ghost, ma'am. We don't believe in such things." Boss replied, and Sharrawna cocked her head as though listening for something.
[You should.] she grumbled. [You really should.]
Eventually, they halt before an arch of branches. The tree trunks were covered in a weird alien writing Scorch could only assume was Wookiee.
[I'll take you no further.] rumbled Sharrawna. [These trees are where we lay our dead. We laid yours there too, human, so that's where you'll find your ghost.]
"You're not coming?" asked Kid curiously. Sharrawna snorted.
[Do I look like a shaman, human? Ghosts aren't my business. If you're going to incur a spirit's wrath, I want no part of it.] She informed them, striding back toward the village. Then she paused, looking back. [One more thing, humans. Disturb our dead, and Imperial retribution won't save you.]
None of them really had a response to that. Scorch had seen angry Wookiees before, and had no desire to incur that wrath. So as they crossed rope bridges and bough-paths, the many mausoleums carved into tree trunks got only the briefest inspections. None of them could have concealed a humanoid, anyway.
Then, abruptly, they came to a bridge that was made of durasteel, not wood. In fact, it looked as though it had been build from salvage. They crossed it, single file with Scorch on point. As soon as he was across, he stopped in his tracks.
White objects hung from vine-ropes, were mounted on sticks and set on every available surface. Scorch's first thought was that they were skulls. Then, as he peered through the scope of his rifle, he realized the truth was just as morbid.
They were helmets. More than a hundred white helmets. A few were recent, so much so that flies still lingered on dark stains, but most… most were clone helmets. From the days when they'd fought for the Republic, not the Empire.
The whole display was centered around a huge mound of white stones stacked in a dome. It was partially overgrown, but something didn't seem right about it. The stones were too regular, almost familiar looking. Scorch couldn't place it until he glimpsed a familiar design in red paint. A red Republic cog, on a GAR chestplate. The whole mound is made of clone armor. He heard a staggered set of sharply indrawn breaths as his squadmates realized the same thing.
Boss hand-signaled them to proceed with caution, but they hadn't taken more than a few steps when suddenly the air was filled with a loud beeping tone. It was soon joined by many others in a weird, asynchronous harmony. Spot-lamps flicked on and off, and the four commandos instantly dove for cover. Someone had set all these helmets to detect motion, as an intruder alert.
They all dropped to the ground, rifles trained on the mound- except the kid, Scorch noted, who watched the forest. Good boy. The helmets blared discordantly for all the forest to here… but no one came. The kid sighed in relief. Stupid. It wasn't over yet.
"Looks like no one's home." He said, poking his head over the top of a rock. Miraculously, he didn't get shot at. Scorch yanked him down anyway.
"Thermo doesn't show anything. Not even any animals." Fixer informed them
"Noise probably scared them off." said Boss
"Maybe that was the point?" Kid inquired hopefully.
"Maybe." the sergeant replied dubiously. "Alright, Delta. Let's check out that mound."
They advanced along the vast bough with caution. The rookie stopped to examine a commando helmet with interest. Scorch nudged him with an elbow.
"Watch it, Kid. Those are our vode."
On the far side of the mound, they found a doorway. Above it hung the tattered remains of an ARC troopers kama, still retaining a few scraps of yellow trim. There were words on it, crudely written in something dark. 'Kom'rk tsad droten troch nyn ures adenn, Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu.' The three veteran members of Delta read it aloud, only a split second off from each other. Kid stared at them, blank look obvious even through his helmet.
"They were the wrath of the warrior's shadow and the Gauntlet of the Republic." Fixer translated softly. Kid still looked confused, but none of them bothered to elaborate beyond that. The new troops didn't learn the Dha Werda anymore.
Something lived in this place. Something sentient. There was a crude wooden table, and a bed of hides. One corner yielded spare bowcaster quarrels, and bits of tech that appeared to have been salvaged from GAR armor. Fixer examined them delicately, a small sigh escaping over the comlink. Scorch was starting to get a nasty and unwelcome notion as to the nature of their 'ghost'. Dressed in white, stayed in a... memorial for clone troops. And no Wookiee had written that sign over the door. No, what they were looking at was a clone vet, Scorch would bet his rifle on it. And then he saw something that really made him gasp.
Over the doorway, held by crude brackets, was a DC-17m Interchangeable Weapons System. Scorch let his woefully inferior E-11 hang loose against his armor as he took the rifle down with the same care most sentients used to handle newborn infants. A small sigh escaped his lips.
"Full clip in the sniper attachment, otherwise unloaded. Someone took good care of this baby, though." Scorch checked it over thoroughly, oddly comforted by the feel of the older weapon in his hand. He slung it over his back, reluctant to part with it even if he lacked ammunition for it.
"Ner vod?" said Fixer suddenly. His gaze was fixed on the rifle. "Were there any other squads on Kashyyyk during the battle?"
The implication of that thought sent an icy chill down Scorch's spine, but he didn't have any real time to process it, because a large, uncannily familiar white form surged through the doorway and pinned Scorch to the floor.