Thirty Four
"Can you explain this?"
Switch looked nervous as he looked through the flimsie work that Jon had placed in front of him.
He saw the list of log in's and knew exactly what was being asked.
Jon sighed, already bored with his new project, "look, I don't give a rats if you're trying to find your boyfriend. I've been given this audit and I need to account for every entry."
"It's not for me!" Switch rushed out, "It's for someone else."
"Who?"
"No one," his eyes avoided contact.
Jon tasted blood.
"Who?"
"I can't say, I promised I wouldn't tell."
Jon was intimidating. Good looking and as tall as the clone he was questioning; Switch knew this day was coming. He'd begged Jakline to stop, and by the look on the registrar's face in front of him, she must have continued to use his password long after she had been asked not to.
"Tell me everything, and I'll make it all go away."
.
"What the fek was that?" The sound of a laser being discharged alerted the two at the back of the ship.
They were unprepared; coming out for their last check, they were less than two minutes from take off. Unarmed, they had somewhat foolishly left their weapons inside along with the top half of their armour and helmets.
They were amongst their own after all.
It was a fundamental mistake that would cost Niner and Darman everything.
They both stood in shock as Gregor continually fired at the ground.
"He's lost it," Darman said cautiously as Niner took a step forward, lifting his hands up so as not to startle the other elite trooper.
"You alright there brother?"
They noticed the discharge light and couldn't fathom what in the world he was doing. Darman had scanned the immediate area; there was no danger, no intruder, nothing in the vicinity.
"Yes," Gregor stated. He seemed to hesitate for a second, his shoulders slumped slightly and Niner stupidly relaxed before Gregor turned and pointed his DC-17M at them and fired two successive pulses.
.
Gregor dragged their bodies next to Rede. He had retrieved all their gear from the cockpit and placed it next to their prone bodies. He felt a level of irony as he looked at the three lying on the ground in a neat row next to one another.
There was a moment, a split second when he had wavered.
Then he regained control.
He knew what he had to do and he wasn't about to risk them expelling him over some other God forsaken planet en route to their new destination. He didn't trust them, which in the past would have been unheard of, but now, after the neglect from his so-called brothers, he knew better.
He had the perfect personality for a commando.
He could make the hard calls.
And this just proved it.
He didn't care that the Republic had been dissolved and that some lunatic was now running the show back on Coruscant.
Sith, Jedi; to Gregor they were one and the same. Freaks, zealots, call them what you want, it didn't matter, he had his own agenda, one he was determined to see through.
A promise.
He strapped himself into the seat and plugged in the coordinates that had been etched into his subconscious as a toddler.
He scoffed back a laugh at how easy it had been.
He was better than all of them put together.
.
"Was there any particular event that made you an arse hole, or were you just born that way?" Jakline was furious. Switch had been transferred out of emergency to physical therapy and she knew Jon was somehow behind it.
"Top of the morning to you too Jaks; got out of the wrong side of the bed I see."
"I know you had something to do with Switch being transferred, I'll get to the bottom of it. This isn't finished, not by a long shot."
"You do that," Jon said as he quickly stood and glared her square in the eye, "and when you do," he almost spilled the beans, then he regained his self control. "And when you do, you get back to me, okay?"
It took every bit of her strength not to slap him square across the face.
"Fek I hate you," she replied.
"Right back at you," she heard him say as he walked off.
He'd won that round, but Jon had more ammunition against his immediate supervisor.
One he would have no hesitation in using.
When the time was right.
And due to a cruel twist of fate, that time was coming.
Sooner rather than later.
.
"ATC, this is CC-5576-39 requesting permission to land."
The voice, although familiar wasn't friendly.
Gregor could appreciate that. He knew they would be frantically rummaging through the files, looking for his designation and wondering just where this soldier had been for the past eighteen months.
"CC-5576-39. You're requested to hold your current course and await further instructions."
Gregor did as they ordered, before he noticed he had company.
"CC-5576-39, you'll have an escort coming in on your six."
"ATC, copy that," Gregor said as two X wings blipped into view on his systems radar.
'That was fast.'
"CC-5576-39, you are required to hold an upwind leg until further notice."
"ATC, affirmative."
It seemed to take them forever to make the decision for him to land. The ships navi computer held him in the holding flight pattern until the word finally came through.
"CC-5576-39, you have clearance to land. Runway 5 Ausch. "
"ATC, runway 5 Ausch. Switching to manual control."
"Copy that CC-5576-39."
'Welcome home,' he mumbled to himself as he prepared to land.
One he secured the ship, Gregor clipped his helmet to his utility belt and held his DC17M high above his head as he walked down the ramp.
He was swamped by a unit of men in white, all pointing their weapons directly at him.
He remained still as two rushed forward and removed his beloved rifle before pushing him into the duracrete floor of the hanger bay.
He was treated roughly; he'd expected it.
What he didn't expect was the pain from his burn contractures.
"Get to your feet soldier and follow us."
Gregor remained silent, playing it by the book, doing as he was ordered, he knew the scenario. Marched back in, with his arms held tight behind him, it was far cry from the dignified welcome he had envisioned.
Then the military juggernaut began; the HQ hoo-ha, questions, answers, meetings, medicals.
More meetings.
Same answers.
One man, he didn't get his name, sat quietly in on all his High Command meetings, until he asked the question, "what happened to the unit who were flying the yacht?"
Gregor wasn't stupid, he knew they would want to know what happened to the commandos. He had time to piece together a plausible scenario.
"They found me, or should I say, I found them; under a bush. A female bounty hunter was at the craft, ripping the tracking system out and looting the ship. I switched my rifle to stun and fired a few rounds. She escaped, bounced right over me. Never seen anyone, other than a Jedi do that in the past."
One of the men leaned over to Melusar, whispering something in his ear while he nodded. They had run diagnostics on his rifle. Gregor had done just what he had said, set off several rounds of stun from his weapon before he left the surface of Abafar for the last time.
"Can you remember what she looked like."
Sure he did, and Gregor would give a detailed description to the comp artist of Asajj Ventress.
He knew she was alive and wanted.
He too, watched the holonet.
.
Stripped naked, he sat on a table angry at being left in such a state. It dawned on him then.
During his time away from the army he had forged a life of his own and he had to unlearn all he had learned. He had found modesty, compassion.
Desperation.
And it was the latter that made him agitated as he waited for what lay ahead.
He wanted to go to Army Med.
'She would be there!'
All of a sudden, what Omega had suggested, a silent drop into the hot zone where he would find his own way back to her didn't sound so bad.
Anything would have been better than this.
The doors swished open and his heart rate rose at the site of the tall creature that had haunted the dreams of his youth entered the sterile room.
He didn't remember much after seeing the Kaminoan scientist and the male doctor other than waking up in a tank.
Gregor always hated the gelatinous non warmth of bacta, the ambient temperature that neither felt hot or cold, bringing with it a familiar, creepy feeling.
All he had to do now was get out of the tank and then he could speak to someone about getting to Jakline. His plan, had inadvertently managed to get him exactly where he needed to be.
Gregor was a cool character, he kept his heart rate deliberately low so as not to alert the monitors and send the alarms ringing. He needed time to think.
He looked around and saw other tanks, filled with men just like him. He then took in the staff.
'New uniforms?'
"Doctor, he's awake. Vitals are stable. We are about to drain the tank and pull him out."
"Fine," was the comment, Gregor noticed that the man never looked up from the data pad he was holding.
Once out of the tank he went through the routine, the coughing, the wash down the weakness.
All without saying a word.
He waited.
Dressed in the once forgotten red fatigues, he sat in the room alone and waited. He knew the drill. He only had to state his designation to anyone who wasn't military; he done all his talking to high command.
The silence was something he was used to.
He had to keep it together, it wouldn't be long now.
Her red hair resting on his shoulder had sustained him this long.
'What's another few hours right?'
The male doctor then finished tapping away and looked up. With a smile he simply said to the medic next to him.
"He's good to go. He can be transferred immediately."
Jon then waited as CT-5576-39 was escorted from the bacta suite. He then went into the file manager and logged the relevant information against the soldiers designation. All the time humming as he typed.
SAVE.
.
Unbeknownst to Jakline, Switch's password had been changed; she wouldn't be able to log in to the mainframe housing all relevant military information. She would think it nothing more than some technical difficulty.
Jon had planned it perfectly. All he had to do was wait another hour or so, change the password back and wait for his revenge to come to fruition.
And after a quiet morning in the emergency room, Jakline left for lunch.
Jon swivelled his chair over to the main computer terminal and began tapping away until he had successfully changed the password back.
"You want to go for lunch?" She asked as she sat back down with another cup of caf.
"Nah, I'm good," he replied as he feigned interest in some article on his tablet. He couldn't leave now; the show was about to begin.
Jakline seized the opportunity to check the list for updates, hoping that the password would work this time.
AUTHORISED ACCESS
"Bingo," she muttered as she began her ritualistic scanning until time all but seemed to stand still.
In slow motion, her caf fell from the table as she read the list of the wounded, lost and dead.
The list had been updated.
CC-5576-39; ACTIVE.
.