"Through Shadow, Through the Edge of Night"
I walked back to the homestead (near the water tower that dwarfed all the other downtown buildings) in worry... I get to keep my home, but no more alcohol... I would have rather picked beer than a room, but knowing how insane that diminutive 'Zilkin' (Oh, wait..., it's a 'Colonel', right?), I decided to keep some wisdom in my choices...
I always should remember what Mr. Borkus said: 'It is better to have a simple life than no life at all. There is no such thing as bravery. Only your choices.' And I think that I should keep my rent for a little bit longer. It's my only safe haven I can be in. After all there is nothing more to life after death.
So with my normal routine I waved to some townsfolk, hopped down the stairs by the doorway...; but unlike what I normally do, I looked back to see if anyone was following me...
No one... No crazies were after my step... Good...
What a weird day! Not only will I need some alcohol to wash those memories away, but what am I going to write in my diary for today!? 'Mind-blown me meets Colonel Zilken Conduit Worm, my new friend'? Yeah, hope that alcohol forces me to forget today as merely a bad memory.
I walked inside, hit the switch so the worn-down lighting system could buzz on, and opened my pint-sized refrigerator to savor the last beer bottle I may ever come to gorge... The fizz of the drink hit me, making my spine tingle and my tongue endorse a once daily nourishment...
And then the weirdest thing occurred... A blue man appeared, buzzing like it had no tangible form; literally out of thin air. "Captain Rex, reporting for duty."
I jumped back, almost dropping the glass bottle to my feet upon sight of the unexpected intruder. "WHAT THE-"
Then the figure was absolutely motionless, standing at attention with the same type of armor a GI Joe would wear... But there was something else to him as well. The blue apparition had the same intentions in my face, stood the same height, and (unusually enough) had the same stern expression I sometimes carry...
I walked up, slightly afraid that the person might put up a fight, but he still stayed unmovable and unfathomable. I put a hand on his torso's armor, which quickly engulfed inside the blue 'fizz' like a swamp cloud. But what struck me most strange about this was that the figure seemed to mirror me. Is he a twin? A long-lost relative? A brother?
"I don't understand... That's..., me?" My mind got pitted into chaos, uniquely imagining all the possibilities this could be.
"No." A voice came suddenly from behind and in the doorway that I regrettably left open... It was that 'Colonel' again. "That's Captain Rex. He's a clone and a soldier within the Republic... Just like you, Gregor..." I stared at the mirror of myself, of who this 'clone' was.
"I..., can't believe it." I remarked, more to myself than anyone else.
But Gascon took it as me talking back to him as he romped into my room like he owns the place... Wait, does he own this apartment? I don't know! "Believe it, Gregor. You're not a simpleton. A clone, even though they are identical, are so much more... You can be so much more..."
I decided to take some of his words for it. He might not know me as well as Mr. Borkus, but he still knows a bit of my past... I was beginning to recall more and more of myself. And then the blue picture of the man disappeared from sight as if it was a light turned off... But as much as I wanted to stare at him (to gaze at myself), I realized that this 'Rex' was less questionable than the 'Colonel' who was standing right in front of me.
"What is a clone... exactly?" I had to know once and for all, and if Borkus cannot give me a complete answer, then I have to find someone else who would.
"A clone is a genetically enhanced creature or person that has all of the same physical traits as its donor... In your case, you were cloned by the bounty hunter named Jango Fett..., who was known for being auspicious and considerate..., for a mercenary..."
I thought for a minute. Bounty hunter? Aren't bounty hunters ruthless and only care about their rewards... "Aren't bounty hunters... distrustful?" I raised an eyebrow...
"Usually..." Gascon remarked..., "But not the Fetts... They can be very honorable if they want to... When they are not focused on their missions... But that is irrelevant now! My name is Meebur Gascon, am a Zilken species, and have the title of being a tactical Colonel within the Grand Army of the Republic. I see clones like you on the battlefield all the time." Well, that explained a lot!
"And what does being a clone have to do with me? Why is..., being a clone..., so important." I stuttered.
"A clone is now the symbol of the powerhouse for democracy that is now rapidly dwindling in this galaxy..." Then he suddenly sighed. "But before I go any further, allow me to introduce my cohorts..." The ankle high being turned around to call for the others. "Corporal! You may enter!"
And through the door came the same Pit Droid that I saw in the bar and out in the alleyway... "Corporal WAC-47, reporting for duty!" The high-pitched droid squealed out over-enthusiastically...
"At ease, soldier." Gascon barked at it. (Or him, I suppose. Droids have feelings, right?)
Wack quickly let his arm drop from his salute... It was then that Gascon turned back to me.
"And I would like to show you the other soldiers that I happen to work with... Artoo!" Like the Pit Droid, others followed suit including a blue and a pink R2 unit, a yellow R4, and a green (and broken-down, by the looks of him) R5 droid... All of them were Astromechs.
"Now, I would like to tell you their names. This blue one here we call R2-D2."
Artoo gave a cheerful beep.
"The pink is QT-KT."
Qutie gave an even higher pitched squeak.
"The yellow one is U9-C4."
Ceefor gave an almost guttural ping.
"And last but not least, my command center-"
Artoo interjected another bleep before he could finish,
"Sorry, Artoo... This green droid, M5-BZ, has a name. We call him Beezee."
The droid was silent.
"Uhh..., hello." I got a little on edge when Beezee did not answer back. "Is this green one deaf?"
Gascon seemed to have quickly noticed this for he marched on over, hopped on the top of the flat droid's head, and did something very comical... He jumped up and down to get the droid to notice him. "Report, trooper!" Gascon chided. "I will not have any soldiers sleeping on the job. Wake up, Beezee!"
The droid finally gave a very low conformation...
"What's that?" Gascon said as if the astromechs were speaking Basic.
Wack stepped forward, "Beezee is trying to say that his fuel cells are running low and will need to power up..."
Gascon still didn't like this answer, which made me a little empathetic since I (too) hardly get enough resources to survive each day. "Well, there is nowhere we can charge you, trooper... You'll have to wait till we get back to Coruscant."
"Speaking of which..., what is Coruscant?" I interrupted. "And who is Captain Rex?" I referred to the blue clone that suddenly came into and out of my room.
Gascon decided to ignore bantering his comrades and hopped onto a stack of books that was on a nearby table between me and the rest of the droids; pacing atop the diary I fill in every day. "Coruscant is the Republic's capital in the middle of the Core."
Pfft! Some answer. I didn't know what that meant at all. "And where on Abafar is this 'Coruscant'."
The Colonel obviously didn't like training rookies for he gave an annoyed sigh, "No, Coruscant is not on this planet of Abafar... It is far away in the center of this galaxy..."
"And away from the Void?" My voice suddenly cracked from this joyful information.
"Far away from this Void, Gregor." Far away from the Void? Away from all suffering and distress? Could this be the moment where my life can start to have a meaning?
"Who is Captain Rex?" I continued to grind farther, farther than I could be permitted to grind.
"Captain Rex is one of our most elite troopers who leads his squad of clones called the 501st Legion, who serve the Jedi Order."
Clone troopers? So there are more clones than just me and Rex? "Okay, slow down, slow down!" I raised my hands to stop the lightning-fast pace of this conversation. "You're telling me that there are more of these... 'clones'?"
Wack came up to speak, much like the chatterbox that he was starting to make himself as... "Millions... A whole army's worth." A whole army? Mr. Borkus has always described how unique I was... But if there is millions of men exactly like me, then I may not seem so special that I made myself as.
"Ah-ha..." I need to be unique. If there are an army of clones, people with the precise personality as my own, than I am nothing more than a mindless and simple droid... But I am a human being, not a tool...! "And they all look exactly... like me?"
"No..." Gascon was getting more and more frank with me, lacking zero patience with all the events that played around him. "Those clones are warriors. Professional soldiers created by the Republic... trained to fight, and die if necessary, in our war against the Separatists. They're not dishwashers living in some vermin-infested povel!" He slammed his foot down to squish a bug on my diary, further exemplifying his point.
Oh...? So maybe a life outside this Void is not quite the land of milk and honey... But if there is not much of a free life outside the Void, then how can I risk giving all of that up? "Look, I-I'm lucky to live in this place. Mr. Borkus s-says that my salary doesn't even cover the rent... so he pays the difference for me." I am lucky to drag through a so-called 'simple life'... But is life really that simple...? My mind set as young as a schoolboy, even though my body aged rapidly than I could keep track.
"Don't you get it, Gregor?! You're his slave! We need to figure out who you really are, how you got here..." 'Slave'? Mr. Borkus may seem suspicious, but he surely treats me with utter respect. And I enjoy being alive... I owe him all the respect I can give him... And yet...- and yet a part of me wonders if there is something out there more than this dull-drum and slow routine. "Are you sure you don't remember anything?!"
I remember a lot, for your information, Mr. Toad...! I simply don't remember who I am. "Well..., all I remember is waking up on a transport... Somehow we crashed on Abafar... And, well, Mr. Borkus says that I have... amnesia..." Bosius told me time and time again that I crashed with him and that he had great compassion for those around, including me.
"Hmmmm..., every clone has an identifying code on their wrist. Your military records will be in the databanks." I looked at my right wrist that had no trace of a code..., right next to what appeared to be jail cuffs which Mr. Borkus has given me in order to tell what time it is to arrive for work... Is this a form of slavery? Is there slavery within the Republic that I seemed to have been programmed to serve? "Scan him, Artoo."
The blue astromech came up, and sent a dissipated blue ray that must be a scanner... And out of my wrist appeared what looked like my identification. And in the writings of Aurebesh, it said...
RC-5576-39, Reconnaissance Commando, Captain of Ghost Company, 212th Attack Battalion, GAR
Missing-in-Action: Sarrish, Vensensor Sector, Outer Rim
"Impressive..." I saw the Colonel smiling at my record. "Gregor, your designation is 'RC fifty-five seventy-six dash thirty-nine'... You were a Captain and part of an elite squad... A clone commando..." I looked at the picture of me, and although it wasn't in full color, I was regardless awestruck at how high up in the ranks I was in my supposed heyday... And even if I was a copied clone trooper, this proves that I was special in being a praised elite. "The file says you were reported missing-in-action during... the Battle of Sarrish..."
All the droids were buzzing mournfully at this news..., making me have some nostalgia over that one word: Sarrish.
"Sarrish...? Sarrish..." I turned to the Colonel. "Wait..., what was the Battle of Sarrish?"
He behaved most grimly as my head strewed with a violent headache. "It was one of the Republic's most devastating loses..."
Then it came... I saw a rainy, swampy landscape, carved almost flatly with craters of artillery fire... There was smoke everywhere, like the Void's Final Judgement... And trashes of vehicles plagued hider and yon that made the whole place filled with scorched grounds that could make any god go insane of what was taking place there.
"Sarrish...?" My mind came to that one memory. "Yes..., yes I remember now... So many soldiers were dying..."
It was horrible, hearing the never-ending screams of agony as many white-armored brothers were murdered or committing even worser sins. Insubordination. Cannibalism. Betrayal. Blaster fire... Pitiless droids... Merciless weather, with pouring rain and hurricane-like winds... And most of all: Death, Death, DEATH!
But what most troubled me was that I remembered all of those events happening, just not how or why they occurred... It was chaos that made no sense, for all I could remember was those negative words that happened throughout that whole catastrophe.
"Do... do you remember how you escaped Sarrish?" Gascon questioned remorsefully.
I tried to deepen my mind to find all the details for all of those unanswerable questions... And like I said before, it troubled me immensely. One may not understand my predicament, but to put in simpler terms, it is like not remembering one's joyous childhood. Free with fun or freedom or leisure... But now, all I have is endless duty and damned programming. I couldn't remember anything, not my ancient valor nor reason to live... And I had to remember those details... It was all I had left.
"No... I just remember seeing all those...bodies... Bodies everywhere..." Flesh was strewn about. Blood soaked through some of the soldiers armor (Yes, armor!). And there was nothing out there than senseless carnage with no trace of routine peace... Then I remembered seeing my whole squad perish under the robotic might as I followed with the duty of my clone brothers to help them escape death. An impossible task within the Void. "I knew that I had to get help... But that's where the memory stops..." I couldn't remember anything. That was it, period. No reason. No how. No control... Only chaos within that enclosing void.
"Well, soldier, there is nothing you can do about that battle now..." Gascon replied. It appears I may never help those who asked for life. Never can I keep faith in one person, but rather everyone I deal with... It's either that, or just be by myself. "But you can help us... Our mission depends on it." I looked at the courageous droids, programmed just like me in their own rights...
I tried to shoo those interfering thoughts of Sarrish aside, but they only came back to haunt me... And there will be nothing I can ever do to help those brothers... But now, I have another team that I can participate... These droids, on a dutiful mission to serve the Republic... The reason I got 'made' in the first place...
I can still have a duty other than this simple life... A life away from one tyranny to enter another.
