AN: Hey guys, it's me again. I'm sorry this chapter is late. But I hope you liked it. There will be some more action in the next one. And I realized that I never used the main character's name in the previous two, so, you figure it out in here.
The next time I awoke, Master Secura was already by my bedside. Her eyes were red, but I could tell she was done crying. Crying is for younglings and initiates, my master had told me once after I received a nasty burn from a training remote.
I sat up, then immediately went back down. My head pounded, and my vision blurred. "Master," I tried to say, but it came out as intelligible as a nerf.
"Just rest, Padawan. You've had a busy day."
"So-" I coughed, my ribs aching with every breath. "So have you."
She smiled. "Well, yes, but I didn't lose my leg, either. Or go down in flames over enemy territory."
That's right, I thought. The gunship crashed, those white knights- are they okay? "Are the soldiers who were with me okay?" I coughed again.
"The clones are okay, they're a couple beds over. Some bruises, a few cracked ribs, some minor burns, one broken wrist, but they're in better shape than you."
Clones? Did she say clones? "Master, did you call them clones?"
"Yes, padawan. They're clones, cloned on Kamino, beyond the outer rim."
I was still confused. Where the hell had we gotten an entire army of clones on such short notice? How come none of the Jedi had known? And why does the Republic have an army? The Senate didn't even vote on the Creation Act yet.
All of these questions flooded through me, and I was about to ask them when Master Secura handed me a small metal cylinder.
It was silver, with a black handle, and slowly thinned out before getting wider at the top. Two dials and a single button were all that protruded from its smooth surface. I recognized it instantly. "Master, this is Master Keyy's lightsaber. Where did you get this?"
"We recovered it from the crash site. However, yours was lost."
I closed my hands around the weapon, now my only memory of my master. "Thank you, Master Secura."
She nodded. Her comlink beeped on her utility belt. She pulled it up. "Secura."
I couldn't hear what the person on the other end was saying, but it wasn't pleasant. Master Secura's face tightened. "Yes, commander, I'm on my way." She put the comlink back.
"Who was that?" I asked.
"I've been called to the forward command center to meet with some other masters to coordinate one last assault on the separatists."
I nodded. "May the Force be with you, Master."
"And with you, Padawan Grutar."
How does she know my name? I thought as she walked out. I don't think she's been paying that much attention to me at the Temple…
I lay down for about an hour, waiting for the burning in my leg and ribs to go away. "Go bother some separatist," I muttered as the medical droid walked back to my cot.
"I'm so sorry to disappoint you sir, but I am a Republic medical droid. I will only operate on a separatist if it would aid the Republic."
I looked up to the droid. "What?"
"Your statement, sir, telling me to bother some separatist," the droid replied.
Force, this droid's programmer must have been one sarcastic nerf herder, I thought. "Not you, I meant the pain." I gestured to my ribs and legs.
"That's what I'm here for, sir." The droid held out a small capsule. I took it and eyed it curiously. "It's only a painkiller, sir. It will dull the pain, while leaving you at full cognitive capacity. Enjoy."
"Oh, um… thanks." The droid began walking away. "What's your number?"
"I am a 2-1B medical droid, sir, but have been nicknamed 'the butcher' by the patients of this facility, and past ones."
"Well, then thanks, Butcher."
"You're very welcome, sir," the droid said before examining a patient two beds down from mine. My eyes went back to the capsule in my hand. It was about the size of a lightsaber crystal.
What's in this thing, bantha tranquilizer? I thought as I swallowed it before I psyched myself out from its sheer size.
Ten minutes later, the pain in my body had subsided. I rolled out of my cot, hitting the plasteel floor hard. But luckily, the painkiller had worked a little too well. I couldn't feel anything even close to hurt.
I hauled myself back up onto my wobbling legs. Okay, you can do this, I thought as I slowly stood. My prosthetic stayed beneath me, some signals being sent into my nervous system through electrodes. "That's strange…" I whispered. It was like having a slightly numb limb.
I only had my shorts on, so I quickly pulled on my brown pants and my robe. Time to take this thing for a walk, I thought, stepping out gingerly with my prosthetic leg.
It hit the ground and held firm, a ball joint in the ankle socket gently rotating as I put all my weight on it and stepped forward with my right leg. I smiled for the first time in… how long have I been in here?
I stumbled my way over to the Butcher. "Where are the clones who were in the crash with me?"
"Oh, right this way, sir." He led me to a bed just down from mine. The occupant's right arm was in a cast, and he was sitting up in the bed. "CT-1142," the droid said, "meet Padawan Amara Grutar."
I bowed before the man. He had a gruff face, Caucasian skin, and short black hair. Identical to the man in the next bed over. And, I would guess, the rest of the clones.
"Commander, It's good to see you up and walking," the man said. "The sergeant will want to see you too. Thanks for bringing him by, Butcher, I can take it from here." The droid walked away as the man stood up. Even as young as I was, only 20 years old, I was taller than he was, but not by much. He led me to another bed, at the far end of the medbay.
"Glad to see you guys are in one piece," I said. "Thanks for pulling us out of the arena."
"It is our duty, sir." He replied, stoically staring in front as we walked.
"How long have we been in here?"
"Three days sir," still no expression on his face.
Three days? I've been in here for three days and only just started walking around?
We walked into a recreation room, where two clones sat playing a game of dejarik. One holographic monster moved across the board and crushed another. One clone sat back, happily. "Kriff!" the other swore.
"Sergeant Balko, this is Padawan Amara Grutar," the clone said to the scowling clone who had just lost. He looked up, stood up and saluted. "Sir, it's an honor to actually meet you."
I looked him up and down curiously. "Why are you saluting me? You don't have to salute me."
The clone's face instantly took on a look of confusion. I could sense it too, this didn't feel right to him. "Jedi are our commanders, sir. We follow you into the fight, and make sure you stay alive."
"We fight for the Republic, sir, and all those who live in Republic space."
"I was talking, Ket, you moron," Balko said to the other clone.
"Sorry, sir."
I sighed. Fighting a war with these two would be damn near impossible if they kept bickering like this. And how long is this war going to take? I thought, hoping the answer wouldn't be long.
A voice came over the loudspeaker. "We have finished our assault in sector 4. The droids are in full retreat. Well done gentlemen! We will begin preparing to depart for Coruscant at 1300."
I smiled to the two. "That wasn't so bad, we just won this war in a matter of days, right?"
I'll have the next chapter out soon. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Stay awesome, you guys.
May the Force be with you.
Coat-Rack96
