Disclaimer: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.
Chapter 2
Our clone soldiers are humans with the same basic needs and wants as any of us. Just because they live out of an armored shell, it doesn't diminish the character of the man beneath. Just as many of us are humans beneath our beskar'gam, they are the same. The Kaminoans had discovered, much to their disappointment, that they just couldn't remove the humanity from a human being, no matter how bio-genetically engineered that human is.
Rav Brahlor, clone training sergeant, overheard with the other training sergeants, in discussions regarding her squad
Entering drop zone of Separatist base, located on Tochin Moon II 783 Days ABG (After the Battle of Geonosis)
Jas checked his straps for the third time, confirming his DC-17 blaster and all its attachments were secure. Then, he checked again the armor, making sure nothing was loose and the pieces were snugly conformed to his body. Last, he pulled on the straps that attached his kit to his back. He had to be confident that nothing would shift during the descent and that he would land safely with his entire kit in tact.
"Ner vod, you're more tied down than a Republic cruiser during a lockdown drill," Dusty sighed. "Trust me. You're not going to lose anything."
Mouse slipped the spare wires and the datapad he was refurbishing into a hard case attached to his kit. "He's smart, he's prepared, and he's making sure he's prepared."
"Ah, the quiet one does have a voice," Dusty teased.
"You chatter when you're nervous," Mouse bit back. "Silence gives nothing away."
"And, I just thought you didn't like us."
"Leave our sniper alone," Gath finally cut in, putting a calming stop to the teasing before it got too far. "Mouse is the best at what he does, and if he likes his quiet, then let him have it."
"You always protect him," Dusty said with a playfully dramatic sigh.
Jas laughed softly at his brothers. They had a knack for breaking the tension when he least expected it. For as much as Dusty and Mouse feigned hatred toward each other, they also had an understanding and a true bond that was as strong as the relationship most twins shared.
How Gath managed his sanity with all of them at times, Jas would never understand. The brother who fell into the role of their leader seemed to have some overabundance of patience. He was protective of them like an older brother should be, despite the fact that they were all the same age and from the same batch of clones. There was just some kind of difference between Gath and the other three that allowed him the ability to exude more tolerance than some of the Jedi.
Dusty had decided that he had enough of Mouse now that the quiet man had retracted back to his silence. "Gath, are you sure they couldn't get someone else for this mission? Seems like all we ever get assigned is small stuff. I mean, that assassination last time was so simple we could have sent Mouse alone. I don't understand why we never get assignments where our skills could be better used elsewhere in the war."
"Because we're the Reject Squad," Mouse muttered.
"You were present during the mission briefing," Gath began as he calmly addressed Dusty and decided to ignore the insult for now. "If you were paying attention, you'd have heard them say that the only way we get more tolium in our blasters is to do this assignment."
Jas had remembered back when he was handed his first blaster that he was taught not only how to fire it and clean it, but every part of it and what made it work. In that first lesson, it was explained how tolium was a gas that was mined as a solid but when refined to the right density, it became a gas that helped to create and release the blaster bolt. The galaxy only had a handful of known sources where tolium could be mined in mass quantities, and the Republic had to be certain they preserved their possession of the few mines they had. Without tolium, the blasters were useless. Until someone could redesign the blasters to work without it, the war would come to a screeching halt, and the Republic would lose the advantage first. Crimson's orders made it very clear that they could not afford the Seps getting the upper hand in any respect, especially not with weaponry.
"ETA to drop zone in five minutes," the pilot confirmed breaking into Jas' recall of his facts.
"Acknowledged," Gath responded. "Buy'cese, Crimson Squad. We've got three minutes for one final review of the mission data, one minute to prep, and one to go."
The rest of the squad followed suit and set their helmets on their heads. They then turned their comms to private interface, silently watching one last time their mission brief on the HUD. Facts flashed through quicker than any average human could comprehend, but clones were taught from birth with flash training. Their brains picked up massive information just from a burst of pictures or a band of text, and there was no room for failure in such a mundane task as that. There were a few clones that couldn't learn through flash techniques. They quickly disappeared and everyone learned not to ask about them.
Jas forced his thoughts back from his childhood experiences, as the information about this mission flashed though his HUD. According to the Intel they received, the Second Moon of Tochin became home to a Separatist base with the help of one of the Tochin barons. Apparently, there was some kind of falling out with Baron Erle Zech, who believed that there was legitimate justification in the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He had been outspoken against the Republic and believed more of the ideals of the CIS than the independency and democracy that the Republic upheld.
Under any other circumstances, Jas knew that it would be nothing for the commandos of Crimson to eliminate a Sep base under the guise of invisibility. That was, after all, what they were created to do. The oversized hydrospanner in this mission, though, was that the king of Tochin's Third Moon insisted that they return his daughter alive.
According to the mission brief, Zech had brought in the Separatists to try to negotiate with King Vollan Psach for control of the tolium mines, but the king had turned down their offers. Dissatisfied by the lack of cooperation and being pressured from the Separatists to bring forth another chance at negotiations, Zech had made desperate arrangements with a hired mercenary to handle the kidnapping of Psach's daughter. It was a last-ditch effort to force Psach to give the Separatists Tochin's tolium mining.
Instead of blindly giving into Zech's demands, Vollan contacted the Republic, pleading with them to find a way to bring his only heir, Princess Arlesse Psach, back alive. He wanted nothing less than her unharmed return, going so far as to threaten seceding from the Republic, if he believed it would bring his daughter home to him safe and secure.
The Republic officials felt that losing control of one of the few resources of tolium could potentially turn the tide of the war in the Sep's favor. They provided negotiators who worked hard to convince Psach that they had the resources and capabilities to accomplish a successful rescue mission. They assured him that they would bring in a special operations squad that would not be allowed the probability for failure. Psach was willing to give them the opportunity to safely return Arlesse, but he had made it very clear that the loss of his daughter would result in the loss of his faith in the Republic.
Jas, personally, thought it was a load of political osik. If the matter was that detrimental to the Republic's interests, the orders wouldn't go to a little known and barely used squad. Crimson had the reputation for being the rejects of the commando squads and were usually sent on low-level missions. If the tolium mined on Tochin was as necessary as they were led to believe, then it meant that the Republic was finally starting to have a real need for more commando missions and that meant the way the war was being fought had changed dramatically.
A few more flashes of data scrolled through, breaking Jas from his silent opinions. He knew he wasn't supposed to have any, not like the Advanced Recon Commando units, and certainly not like the Null-Class of ARCs, but sometimes he found his mind wandered into thoughts beyond the importance of the mission. He only ever told their training sergeant, Gan Pohin for fear that if the Kaminoans found out he would be considered a defect and eliminated. Ba'vodu Gan, Uncle Gan, had assured him that what he felt was normal, as humans are creatures who always have thoughts going through their minds and the real trick was in harnessing those thoughts. Like many of the other Mandalorian sergeants, Gan also had a hard time respecting the Kaminoans. Gan believed that the "aiwha-bait" should have concentrated their genetic tinkering on finding ways for the clones to survive the real dangers of war as opposed letting the scientists waste time trying to improve upon the normal characteristics and quirks of human nature.
Recent holos and statistics about the Psach daughter filled Jas' HUD and brought him back from his straying thoughts again. The stats that he deemed as relevant facts were her height and weight. They would need to know such information for circumstances that might arise in which her height and weight could be beneficial or problematic to the mission. Overall, she was quite a few inches shorter than the average height for a female.
Remembering his factual studies, Jas recalled that the average female stood at five feet, four inches. However, the princess was merely five feet tall, and she would seem dwarfed by the size of the members of Crimson Squad.
The data about her weight noted that she was approximately one hundred thirty-four pounds and was considered to be within the normal healthy standards for her height, even if her weight was considered a bit high by the personal standards of others. She was not in any kind of health risk with that height and weight, and that would make an escape easier.
Another relevant fact was her physical features. Having a visual allowed them the opportunity to be sure they matched the right person to their mission objective. The data noted that she was almost twice his age, currently in the later months of her nineteenth year. Even though Jas was only about eleven years old chronologically, his accelerated aging made him approximately twenty-two standard years old, and that made him strangely older than she was.
The princess' brown hair was not as dark as the color of the clones' hair, as there was a lighter shade of muted brown blended in the strands, and her dull, blue irises gave the appearance of someone who preferred to be immersed in her own solitude, as even in the holo she seemed to project distant thoughts.
Further data noted that there was nothing extraordinary about her as she bore no distinguishing scars or marks and no tattoos or unusual piercings. Her face was characterized as being round in shape, and her brown hair fell in thick, tight curls that disappeared past her shoulders. Her light skin was covered in a pink powder that made her cheeks seem brighter, and her lips were painted in a slightly darker shade of pink that gave the appearance of her lips being more noticeable.
For some reason, the concept of adding false details to a person's face made no sense to Jas, and he wondered why someone would bother to paint themselves in such a manner. It seemed to do nothing but make someone a counterfeit, hiding who they truly were. More data scrolled through, interrupting Jas' opinions again. This time the data advised that she had no illnesses or allergies and that medical treatment could be provided as necessary, should it be required.
A final flash completed the briefing. It was a strict order that for the safety of the princess, she was not to be addressed by name or rank until she was securely within the confines of the palace again.
Jas took a calming breath. Three minutes down. One minute for final prep. The adrenaline began to pump, and his sudden urge to be sick wanted to take over. Shifting his thoughts to concentrate on the objective and what needed to be done, he pulled on the straps one last time.
"Ner vod, you're fine," Dusty teased.
"Cut the chatter," Gath ordered. "We launch in 45."
Those last seconds were a long, drawn out blur. Then, Jas and the rest of Crimson Squad were free falling down to the surface of Moon Two. If they landed in their assigned position, they would be a couple hours' walk south of the Separatist base. From that point on, they were to improvise, adapt, and overcome.
Infiltrating the Separatist base located on Tochin Moon II 783 Days ABG
With the night as their cover, the gray-armored commandos made their way through the rocky surface of Tochin Moon II. Their landing had been textbook perfect. They sailed through the darkness of night, landing exactly where they needed on the open plain. Their spare weaponry and gear had landed half a mile or so from them, but it didn't take long to retrieve the necessary equipment and distribute it evenly amongst them. Using the night for cover, they discovered that Tochin Moon II had very few trees for them to hide within. However, there was more than enough shrubbery to bury beneath whenever they heard the metallic footsteps of "Tinnies," the slang term some of the squads used to describe Battle Droids.
Surveying their current position, they checked the distance marker on their HUDs, and it advised them that the Separatist base was within twenty yards north of their location.
Enhancing the night vision and the telescopic lenses, Gath was able to see ten battle droids holding sentry duty around the hangar entrance. He had no idea how many more there were on the other sides and in the back.
"Sniper droids on the top four corners of the hangar roof," Dusty said.
"I'll work the roof," Mouse offered. "I already found the perfect sniper location."
Gath nodded silently. He knew Mouse preferred the silence of sniper work. He was better at being a lone commando than a team player. Even though they were all from the same batch, Mouse always stayed further apart from the others and once the rest of the squad learned that if they left Mouse to do his own talking when he wanted instead of forcing a conversation out of him, he got along much better with them all. Mouse, also was not faultless, as he had to learn how to find his solace amongst his brothers as much as they did around him.
The Kaminoans considered purging Crimson Squad more than once because of their squabbles and inability to bond at times. They even went so far as to single out Mouse specifically for elimination, but Ba'vodu Gan had refused to have Mouse terminated for his lack of social interaction when his marksmanship skills were superior to the rest of Crimson.
Gath knew that the four of them challenged Gan every day because they took forever to gel, and it was the reason they were dubbed the Reject Squad. Gan had outspokenly referred to Crimson as his juvenile delinquents, and he knew that every other training sergeant had at least one batch of clones who turned out to be more troublesome than the rest. However, Crimson came close to termination on more than one occasion, and they never could figure out how Gan managed to stop the Kaminoans each time.
For all their faults, though, Gath was grateful they were his team. No other squad would want any of them, not even the ones that had lost members and were awaiting reassignments. For as much as Dusty complained he always wanted "real action," Gath was silently appreciative that they kept getting assigned the low-level missions. He was selfish like that. He wanted to keep his brothers alive, and if it ever came down to it, he'd lay his life on the line for them. Of course, he couldn't tell them that because that would ensure them to stay behind and die with him. He didn't like that idea at all. They made him believe he was their older brother, and that was his role now. He had to protect them.
Watching the droids for a moment, Gath knew it was time to be the older brother and the leader they nominated him to be. "Jas, Dusty, we need to find out what's awaiting us around the rest of the hangar."
"I got north," Dusty said quickly.
"I'll go west," Jas offered.
"That leaves east for me," Gath confirmed. "Okay, just recon for now. Mouse, just watch the roof. No firing until we get a head count on those Tinnies."
"Understood," Mouse answered.
In the next few minutes, Crimson Squad made their way around the hangar. The north and south entrances were most guarded with ten battle droids on each side. The east and west had five per side. Mouse's headcount of the roof only came back with the four droids, one guarding each corner. There were no additional reinforcements on the roof, and that was one advantage Crimson would be glad to take.
The Separatist base was not the kind of base they were expecting to have to infiltrate. It was nothing more than a storage hangar and had no one who would be considered as administrative staff. If not for the droids outside the hangar holding guard duty, the place could have been mistaken for a deserted hangar that was holding scrap parts for sale instead of a captive princess.
However, there was some concern as a small fleet of eight Vulture fighters was prepped inside the hangar. Eight fighters meant an escort fleet, and either someone was going to be coming to Tochin Moon II or someone was going to need escorting out. Gath decided he would rather not find out which it was.
Continuing to watch their scanners, Crimson was provided with further intel: a single non-Separatist ship was registered under the name Fatal Bliss to a man named Qotan Hazar. The most information they could get on Hazar was that he was the mercenary hired by Zech, and what concerned them even more was that Hazar rarely turned in a live prisoner.
The commandos regrouped about thirty minutes later to decide on how to execute an extraction plan. Having to rescue the princess without doing her any harm was not going to make taking out the Separatist base easy, especially when they couldn't find any evidence of her existence in the base itself. Unfortunately for them, the one person they were sent to extract wasn't on any of their sensors.
Infiltrating the Separatist base located on Tochin Moon II 783 Days ABG
"That escort fleet is probably going to be taking the merc out of there soon, and if he's got the objective stashed on board, we're going to lose our chance," Dusty said as they were separately surrounding the hangar in their assigned recon positions, just awaiting Gath's order to infiltrate the base. "We've got a flawless record right now. I'd hate to see that change."
"Agreed," Gath answered. "We need to take out the Tinnies around the perimeter of the hangar and then get a good look inside Hazar's ride. Mercs tend to favor hidden compartments in their ships."
"Great. Now, we have to snoop around some strange ship that's probably full of booby traps," Jas sighed. "Too bad our sensors can't just look inside for us."
Dusty answered this time. "Relax, ner vod. If we can get close enough, we'll see what we need to see. We're just too far away right now for our scanners to get a good look at the hidden compartments."
"When did you become the optimist?" Jas asked.
"About the same time you became the pessimist," Dusty shot back.
Gath cut in this time. "Save the squabble until we're clear again. Mouse, on my mark, you clean out the roof."
"Been wondering when you'd say that," Mouse replied. "I need those two to shut up for a while so I can concentrate."
Gath talked quickly to keep the other two from snapping back at Mouse. "Dusty, Jas, we're going to need to move fast. We'll take out the Tinnies and get inside the hangar. After that, you're on the merc, and I'm on the communications array so they can't send in any help or fire up those Vulture ships."
Jas answered, "Copy."
Dusty responded, "Acknowledged."
Mouse smiled silently. The truce was laid amongst his brothers, and he could concentrate once again. Staring down the scope of his rifle, the sniper mentally picked off each Tinnie while he waited for Gath's signal. He loved the stillness of sniper work. It was a peaceful, graceful dance as he watched the enemy fall silently in the distance. There was no guilt about it. As one target fell, the next one lined up in his sights. In minutes, his work was done, and he was nothing but a shadow. He liked the solitude. Chatter was for civilians. Ba'vodu Gan never had a complaint about Mouse's lack of social interaction. He told him that his strength was his solitude and that he should never let anyone tell him differently. His brothers would learn to work with him, and he would learn to work with them. It had taken a long time, but Gan never gave up on getting Crimson Squad to gel, and now there was no doubt that they would protect each other and that their squabbling was more of a façade than it was their true sentiments.
Dusty allowed his adrenaline to wash over him. He loved a good firefight and took pride in every Tinnie that got one of his blaster bolts. Occasionally, he had the horror, or privilege, of taking out a wet – a humanoid – on the battlefield, depending on how he viewed that humanoid. Sometimes they were "collateral damage," a living being that happened to walk into the path of his blaster bolts and was shot by their own stupidity for not staying low. The flash of pity Dusty felt about those uncontrollable mistakes usually got to him at some point later, and when he was alone he dealt with the guilt in his own way. Ba'vodu Gan gave him the suggestion to meticulously clean his weaponry and his body armor whenever he felt remorse after a battle, regardless if it was a training exercise or the real thing. Gan explained that if Dusty took the time to wash away every last grain of grit, it would eventually begin to wash away his own dirtiness in his soul. At first, it didn't make a whole lot of sense to Dusty, but he continued with the ritual anyway, trusting that his training sergeant had knowledge from his experiences. Over the course of his short life, Dusty found that he could deal with every battle and every death, knowing that he had a way to cope when it was over. The only time there was no guilt to feel over his actions was when he was taking out the Tinnies. Battle droids were as dumb as scrap metal and he never needed a moment to justify his kill to himself.
Jas swallowed down the familiar nausea that always tried to creep up on him just before he was about to go headlong into something dangerous. It left him feeling cold, as a million pinpricks would jam into his spine. He knew it was the surge of adrenaline, the moment that the logic of his brain told him he was about to do something stupid and life threatening. In his short existence, Jas had learned that if he felt the adrenaline, he was still alive, and when the time came that the adrenaline stopped pumping, that was the time to worry. Often, it was during the moment of the adrenaline rush that Jas found his thoughts roamed with wild abandonment, and right now his thoughts were running rampant. He knew that he had to get his concerns back under control. If not, he risked his life as well as his brothers' lives. Thinking about the mental box that Ba'vodu Gan had taught Jas how to create, Jas reigned in the stray thoughts and concentrated on protecting himself and his brothers. The box was nothing but a visual of a crate with a lock on it, and it was used to store everything that was irrelevant to the moment of the mission. The box could be locked just seconds before they were to engage an enemy, and it could only be opened when the danger had passed. Jas found it always cleared his mind and gave him the clarity to act on his training and instincts without the fear that his stray thoughts would cause a distraction.
Gath took a deep breath, preparing himself for the moment of execution. It was always the worst feeling for him. He was about to order his brothers into danger and potential death. His orders, whether right or wrong, always gave the risk that one or more of them would not make it out safely. He hated that split-moment of realization, and no matter how many times he ordered them to engage an enemy it never got any easier. In fact, it seemed to get worse…like they were pushing their luck every time they were successful. He knew the orders were simple: they would snipe what they could, grenade what they could, and then run headlong into the mess of whatever was left. It was never pretty, and commandos were never given many options. That was why they were the last ones called and the ones who did the dirty work. Still, it put a fear in his stomach, the kind that froze his innards for the few seconds it took him to get the mission orders past his lips. Ba'vodu Gan could never make Gath's job any easier. He simply told him not to forget the sensation of fear and dread because it meant he was doing the right thing. When the day came that he stopped caring about his team, that was the day he was unfit to be a leader.
The order finally passed through Gath's lips in the simple command, "Oya!" It was Mandalorian for "let's hunt," and right now, they had become the hunters.
Within moments, Mouse reported in, "Four down, no replacements. Moving to the south now to see what you left me."
Dusty and Jas had managed to take out three Tinnines from each of their assigned positions before the droids began firing back. Gath took out two, and then launched a grenade into the remaining three. Dusty and Jas each fired grenades into the remaining droids and then began their runs toward the hangar. Shrapnel from the droids' bodies flew in all directions.
"Aw, come on, I just polished this!" Dusty shouted at the pieces of shrapnel that scratched and dented his armor.
Jas felt his armor pelted by a few blaster bolts from the last couple of droids in his way. He swung the Deece around and blasted them into scrap metal.
Mouse took to taking out what he could of the south side. Then, he launched a grenade into the few droids left behind.
After only a couple minutes, the commandos had taken out the small garrison of Tinnies surrounding the perimeter of the hangar. Holding their blasters in crisp, attack positions, they scattered inside the hangar and took cover as another squad of battle droids greeted them.
A shadow of a darkly covered man blurred past, heading for the Fatal Bliss.
"Hold them off!" the man shouted.
The voice caught Dusty's attention, and he turned to the human quickly noting the black wrappings around his head and body. He chased after mercenary, trying to not to kill him just yet until they got the information they needed. Blaster bolts slammed into Dusty's armor, and an explosion forced him to fall back into a cover position behind a crate of supplies. Momentarily frustrated, Dusty muttered, "Fierfek."
Jas tossed a grenade into the small garrison of droids, taking out half of them. "Shab, couldn't they have spared us a Jedi? Everyone else gets one."
"Reject Squad isn't allowed the same privileges," Mouse grumbled as he rolled onto the floor and crouched behind a pile of plasteel shipping cartons, using the unloaded cargo for protection.
"Cover me!" Gath shouted as he slid his way under the communications desk. He pulled out a device about the size of a thermal detonator and tapped a small button on it that extended out an input plug. Shoving the plug into the port of the communications console, smoke began to waft up from the keys and lights, burning out every last circuit card and melting the wires into a mess of slag. Gath realized that he rather liked the small computer cookers, and the more he used them, the easier it made his missions. Once they were planted, everything inside was melted to become irreparable slag. Poking his head up from beneath the console, Gath turned his attention back to helping his brothers in their continued firefight.
"Crimson doesn't need Jedi," Gath responded now to Jas' question in the pauses between firing his Deece. Addressing Mouse, he admonished, "And, we are not a Reject Squad."
The rest of the battle didn't take long, and within the next ten minutes, the small garrison of droids had been defeated.
"Get me some backup here!" Dusty yelled as he ran toward the closing ramp of the Fatal Bliss.
Jas was right behind Dusty, keeping him covered. Then, Gath and Mouse hurried to catch up. They rolled up the closing ramp, following their brothers inside.
Once inside, the four members of Crimson Squad quickly regrouped in the cargo hold that was immediately up the ramp. After a few silent moments, they disappeared like ghosts as they split off in different directions, trying to locate Hazar and get a reading on the princess. They knew better than to expect any mission to be easy, as overconfidence would be the first step in either losing one of their squad or a defeat so horrible, they would have preferred death. Crimson Squad had a flawless record, and that win percentage was what motivated them. They were going to find Tochin's princess and get her back safely. Failure was never an option.
