Vode An arc

Nightmares I

Ahsoka gasped, suddenly in a downed gunship. She glanced down at her hands but instead of a light saber there was a blaster. Noise assaulted her ears, rattling vibration shook through her boots and the oily smell of burnt electronics filled her nostrils. She sealed the suit, going to internal support. The first time had been simply to avoid the electronics smell, bitter in her nostrils; now she knew it would save her life. Knowing it was already too late she wished she could unseal the suit.

In the next instant, there was a shuddering thud and screech as the LAAT/i hit the ground and proceeded to slide over rocky sand, the pilot doing his best. It hit something else and careened sideways, but only for an instant and then it rolled. She knew the pilot was dead and probably both turret gunners.

A body slammed into her, pressing her against the forward compartment, then was gone. One of the LAAT/i doors was jerked open, the guide slides ripping out of the ceiling leaving metal teeth to rip and shred. She saw the armored body of Tane fly out, reaching back for his brothers then slamming into a boulder breaking like a crystal goblet. Another body, Digger, slammed next to her, spread out, his neck at an impossible angle. High pitched screams, of injured men and twisting metal bit into her brain.

He could look at the HUD to see who was screaming. He didn't. He was afraid it might be him.

A stray blaster shot hit the tanks and a fireball roared through the compartment. Red, orange and black sucked out the oxygen and overcame some of the men but not her, sealed in the life support of the armor. It wasn't fire proof, but it would hold for a short time. The interior of the LAAT/i was suddenly black as were the remains of her sergeant; dead but still writhing on the deck.

The tolerances of her helmet were finally met and the HUD sank into gray oblivion relieved only by occasional red flares. She could feel the suit under her armor melt into her skin.

That was his scream, he knew. How odd that he would feel nothing.

Maybe this time they'll let me die.

Ahsoka pulled out of her trance, breathing shallow and quick, with tears in her eyes for the despair she felt. Her hands shook as they reached for the tea. She took several deep breathes to regain her equilibrium.

Calmer now, she lowered herself into a half-trance, the tea making a warm trail down her throat. She reached for that nightmare; carefully lest it bite. She touched the flavor of it, then the specifics. Then the identity - Chopper's dream.

She'd been meditating, flying free on the currents and eddies of the Force. Ship's night was the best time to meditate; the aggregation of troopers and ship's crew mostly asleep. Their thoughts and Force signatures quiet, dormant, as they slept. She'd reacted as if in battle to that spike of pain from one of her men; grabbing her light saber and running to help. Forgetting only her body as she moved then slammed into his nightmare.

She went back into trance and followed the pain. Chopper was still there and she stepped into the burning gunship to reach for his hand. Now she saw only shadows, vague images in chiaroscuro, where before she'd seen death in stark clarity

There was a fire; low and warm. Chopper glanced around and saw the three-sided tent, the cards on the ground. Naboo, although the others must have been at the river, he was the only one in the tent.

He shook his head, knowing it wasn't real but knowing he couldn't wake up either. After dream-Naboo what? Perhaps being on the dead flyer they hadn't rescued? Shivering into death with wounded troopers begging for help. Again, Chopper shook his head. His dreams were the nightmares that had happened to him, not imaginary, not possibilities; but real events that were mapped on his body. He stepped up to the tent wondering what would happen here.

"Hi Chopper."

He turned around to see his commander. She looked smaller and more childlike than in waking life.

"Commander." He nodded his head and came to attention, then relaxed into parade rest, hesitant and cautious.

"You can take the helmet off, Chopper." She sat cross-legged in front of the fire and held her palms to it as if she was cold.

"It not safe, Commander."

She looked at him, looking up at him, with her blue eyes. He pulled his gaze away from her. Even in a helmet, even in a dream, she didn't need to see him.

"No, I guess it's not, Chopper." Her voice was slow and thoughtful. "You could sit though, just for a moment."

He did, setting his blaster at his side. He knew he'd need it soon. "This is your dream?" He asked hesitantly as he looked around. She had slept in the tent in Naboo, next to the captain.

She shrugged and took a drink from her cup. He suddenly realized there was a cup in front of him. She blushed. "I'm sorry, Chopper, that was just habit, serving two. You don't have to..."

He pulled off his helmet with a sigh, wondering what she saw. Sometimes, behind the helmets, he saw his brothers as literal flesh-droids; gears and antennea that bled. Is that what she saw? Still, dreaming of tea with the commander was better than any of his other dreams. He wondered if he had his scars in his dreams.

The tea was good; hot but flavorful with a flowery aftertaste. Chopper usually drank caf like most of the troopers, but he liked the flavor of tea on occasion.

"Excellent tea, commander. Thank you." He drank the tea slowly, savoring the scent as well as the taste of it, letting the heat from the cup warm his hands through the gloves.

"Perhaps we should have tea occasionally when we're awake?" Commander Tano smiled at him and he turned his head, blushing. Suddenly, she was more adult in the dream and Chopper didn't want the nightmare to go that way.

"Maybe," but he shook his head. He turned his head sharply; his attention caught by the fluttering of wings and the whrr-tok of Geonosians. He reached for his helmet and blaster but she was beside him now and her feather touch on his hand paused him.

Chopper looked down on her slender fingers, once again a child's hand, barely touching the armor of his hand. His hand trembled and she removed her fingers.

"You don't have to go just yet, Chopper. They can't come here." He almost believed her.

He gestured at the tent walls. "They're flimsy. The Geonosians will tear them apart. First with blaster fire then with a grenade." He noticed she didn't have her light saber with her. "I'll try to protect you commander, but I…" His mouth was suddenly dry and he saw the brown-red sands of Geonosis blowing outside the tent. No, not a tent any more but the place where he'd lost his first squad. Chopper moaned softly, suddenly realizing there were worse things than the nightmares of what had happened.

"Please go away commander. Wake up. I won't be able to stop them."

"That is your dream, Chopper. Tonight, come back to mine."

He glanced back, to see the three sided tent sturdy in the winds of Geonosis.

Ahsoka held out her hand to him as she held her breath. Time to see if her men trusted her. "Trust me in this, Chopper. Tonight, no nightmares. Just restful sleep."

Chopper looked back at her, concerned; his body facing forward, the blaster in his hands, with only his head and shoulders in her direction.

"I…" he hesitated, turning his helmet back to the oncoming horde. He felt the humming of their wings through the ground. He glanced around for the caverns, the hidden pipeholes they'd come rushing up from to grab him from below.

"It's all right, Chopper. I'll watch tonight. I'll keep the nightmares away." She took a step forward and put her hand on his arm.

He jerked back breaking their contact then turned his face to stare at the ground, only glancing at her from the corner of his eyes.

"If you want me to..." She tentatively reached out her hand to him, palm up. She'd forgotten the main rule of Chopper.

He pursed his lips and slowly reached for her outstretched fingers, pressing the pads of his gloved fingertips against hers. Even in a dream he couldn't touch her any more than the barest fingertips.

"Guess it can't hurt to set a dream after a dream."

She led him back to the tent, gently pushed him to one of the rugs and brushed his forehead lightly with her breath.

"Sleep, Chopper. Rest." Chopper took a breath and closed his eyes.

Chopper woke. He looked around the room. It was dark, the red bulb above the main door and the console with its jewels of light making the dark room visible. Echo was on duty somewhere on the hangar deck, but Fives was in his rack. Asleep.

Chopper slowly clasped his fingers together and studied them intently. He breathed in deeply and slowly. Fives still asleep? That was good; it meant he hadn't screamed in remembered pain or cried out a brother's name in some futile attempt to reach out and save him.

The nightmare had started. He remembered that clearly; the anxiety of it making his hands shake, the knowledge that he would wake crying in pain leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. There would be the stares of Echo and Fives, no different from any other squad mate, as he shook in the aftermath of the dead dreams.

He remembered Slick's harsh words when he'd had one of his nightmares. Coward. Hut'tuun. For his fears. And Slick was right. What kind of trooper was scared of dreams?

Yet, tonight, his commander had led him back from the deserts of Geonosis to a small tent on Naboo. She had gestured to one of the rugs and he had lain down and slept.

Chopper felt good. Relaxed and rested.

There was muffled movement from Fives bunk and he half-woke hearing Chopper's measured breathing. "Yu'wake?" he asked still mostly asleep, the words a mumble into his pillow. Chopper figured he thought the noise was Echo. "It's Chopper, Fives." Then, because the trooper had asked a question. "Yes, I'm awake. Going to mess and get some caf."

"You'ka?" Fives was now barely more awake than asleep, his face turned toward Chopper, one dark brown eye open, the other side of his face buried in his pillow and arm.

Chopper nodded as he reached for his data pad. "Yes, Fives, I'm good."

"S'good,' mumbled Fives as his eyes closed and he drifted back to sleep. "S'good," he murmured again.

Chopper merely stared at him, then turned toward the door. Although it had sounded like Fives was glad he hadn't had a nightmare, he must have meant it was good Chopper hadn't had a nightmare and woken Fives up thrashing against the dead past. Chopper tilted his head in thought. Maybe, until he knew - actually knew - otherwise, he'd consider Fives' words in their best intention.

Next chapter in another day or two...

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