"Hey, you two...what are you guys doin' tonight, after lights out? Wanna go to a party?"

-anonymous 'Sullust Star' crewmember... to two passing GAR troopers-

...

-'Ehn'- (33 standard hours after 'Sullast Star's departure from Kamino)

I tried hard not to look at the nausiating veiw of hyperspace, that dominated the ships bridge-screens. As much as I could, I kept my back to the transpara-steel. Even, if it meant staring straight down... at the tight, berbured carpet that was standard in the domain of officers. Luckily, their weren't any GAR officers on the bridge tonight. Only the OOD, and the ship's Captain... an able enough (seeming) man named Herril. A retired, local-planetary defense force lieutenant... now, ferrying GAR troops and equipment for the Republic's cause.

Odd, actually... once I had thought about it. There were always two or three on duty, even at this hour. Maybe another, somewhere... overseeing some late-shift work-party in another part of the ship. But, the lack of this many officers being off-duty was irregular, at any hour.

While wondering privately, if it was my duty was to investigate... or, simply enjoy the rarity of it; I caught sight of a clone in GAR fatigues, standing outside of the bridge entryway. It looked like he was waiting for someone. But, anyone with enough business to be there should announce himself... openly. Not, be lurking in the corridor. Immediately, I marched over... to interogate the mysterious hesitator, myself.

Now, it is true... that all clones look basically the same... so, much so... that 'mongrel' officers may understandably have trouble telling us apart. But, not me. The closer I got, the more certain I became... of who the strange trooper might be.

"Trey?!" I asked, in whispered confusion. "What are you doing here...?"
"Oni... Uh, I mean... Sarge..." he rushed, in something like relief. "Yea, it's me. I, uh... I need to talk to you, Oni.. now!"

I checked my chrono..."It's three hours past curfew, Trey..." I started in on him. "I'm sick of this! Now, get bac-"
That's when the look on Treys face broke through enough for me to see... that something was seriously bothering him. "Corporal," I said, turning to the only other GAR officer currently on the bridge with me. "Take over here, CT-3266..." I told him, flatly. "I have... something... to attend to."

A dutiful trooper... 'Nikki', he's called when off-duty; immediately nodded. "Copy that, Sergeant."

Grabbing Trey by the arm, I pulled him along after me as I hurried off of the bridge and out of the hatchway. Whatever the problem, Trey was obviously having a hard with it. To make it easier for him, we walked to the end of the passageway, for some added privacy to speak... just a talk between brothers.

Being on 'Stand-Down-Duty' had its disadvantages, I knew. I had my own 'Trey-like' feeling, that I was about to find about one of them.

I know some of the other NCO's allow their troopers to enjoy their new-found 'freedoms'... aboard this decidedly 'civilian' vessel. But, I also had a feeling... that it would only cause problems, in the end. Thats why I've tried to keep my men busy... with extra watches, work details... anything. Busy soldiers, are disciplined soldiers.

Idle soldiers, however...

I hurried my step some. No, I thought... Treys sudden arrival on the bridge this late, didn't bode well at all. The more time I had to think about it, the more worried I got.

Not being 'in-armor' while onboard (as per, Capt Herrill's request) also, meant the sudden loss of private comms... that all of the clones had long-come to rely on. It was their own little world... and they could talk about ANYTHING right in front of someone, without them ever even knowing you were speaking. It was a welcomed tool for lots of reasons... professional and personal matters, alike. Being without it meant going 'low-tech', and using a healthy dose of descretion. Once we were safely out of earshot, I gave Trey my full attention. "Okay now, c'mon... just, tell me what's happened."

"Oni," Trey said tenitively. "You- you need to just follow me. There's.. umm,... something you need to see."

I let out a heavy sigh... in frustration. But by now, Treys ellusiveness had seriously concerned me. This couldn't be about just any old mischievious nonsense... I'd never seen him so worried.

Now... so was I. No more questions, then. "Okay, little brother... let's go. Show me."

I followed Trey as he urgently led us all of the way straight back to his and Quays' quarters.

I remember thinking, with 'relief' that... as long as it was contained, to within thier own cabin... whatever it was... it might not be too bad.

"Maybe," I was thinking, hopefully... "we can even manage to keep it off the brass' radar." That's when Trey opened the door, and stepped aside... to reveal the scene through his cabin's door, in front of me.

What I saw inside was... difficult... to understand.

There was Quay... I assumed it was CT-3034... (it was hard to tell, at that point); standing in the middle of the room... dancing!

He was clad, only in the top half of his GAR armor... helmet, shoulder-plates, and all. From the waist down... he was adorned in some sort of civilian undergarment... female, I could only assume... due to all of the little pink frills, and sparkles decorating them. Finally, on his feet... a miss-matched pair of boots. One, GAR-issue... the other... unknown.

His normally shiny-white, plastiod plates of armor were now smeared with what looked like finger-paints. A dizzying mixture of fluorescent-neon colors... all in a wild array of unintelligible patterns and odd, foreign-looking symbols. Atop his armor-helmeted head, some sort of wig (Jango's-shebs... how I dearly hoped, it was only a hairpeice!); stuck straight up in the air. It was bobbing from side-to-side, as Quay was continually bouncing up and down. One arm, held high... also, waving side to side. Almost, in time with the mohawk... as if to some music only he could hear.

I stood there staring at him for a few minutes, dumbfounded.

"HEY, ONI!" Quay shouted, over-loudly... when he at last noticed me standing right before him. Instead of offering any sort of military greeting, however... he yelled into my face, again. "OHH! And, Trey! Look-look-look...!", he cried. "Check these out!"

He reached into his utility belt, and removed a handful of assorted-colored illuma-sticks... the kind used for Search & Rescue operations.

Tossing some glow-sticks towards Trey and I... Quay, then took one in each of his own hands... waving them around, making 'zzzrrummm-zzrrrummm' noises. "Look, guys... We're Jedi!" he declared, as he sliced his 'lightsabers' around in the air.
Stopping suddenly, he pointed his 'glow-saber' directly at Trey. He covered his lower-face with his other hand... and announced, in an ominously deepened voice. "Trey...", he decried. "I... am your brother!" Then, without explanation... he went back swatting away whatever evil force his imagination had conjured, once more.

Trey looked to me, in utter confusion... "What?!" he asked me, dumbfounded. "What was that supposed to mean? I already know he's my brother!" I didn't understand it, either. But, I did finally began to get some idea of what was going on. I turning back to see our younger sibling... now, flying his light-sticks around like dog-fighting ARC-fighters.

"Relax, Trey..." I told him. "I think I have an idea, of what's going on here..."

Meanwhile, Quay was already on to his next 'psychedelic-adventure'. "Now, look... wave them around like this!", he explained enthusiastically. Then, Quay was sucked back, into whatever fantasy realm he was visiting.

Checking the passageway... to be sure nobody was coming along, to interupt... I secured the door behind me. After a second or two of observing our brothers ludicrus behavior, (oh, how I wish I'd made a holo of it now!)... I walked straight up to Quay, and... grabbing him by that redicules wig... angrily jerked the helmet from his head.

He hardly reacted at all.

He just continued to bounce around breathlessly, nodding to himself... and waving his hand in the air, like he just didn't care.

He didn't even make eye contact with me as I looked at him. But, now that his helmet was removed... I could tell that he was also, humming.

I took a moment to look around the room, for any obvious answers. Finding none, I turned to Trey for an explaination.

His hands flew up instantly, as if surrendering... to a charging, mother-rancor.

"I don't know whats wrong with him, Sarge.. I swear! He just... showed up like this!"

He looked, and sounded like he was indeed innocent... at least, of knowing exactly what had happened to our little brother. His concern was certainly real enough, that was evident. I could see in his eyes that... he wanted me to help his little brother, more than he wanted to be held blameless for Quay's condition.

"Oni...", he pleaded. "If I knew what was wrong with him," he pointed to our gyrating brother. "I wouldn't have gone to you! Would I?"

"Oni...", Trey swore to me. "I'm serious. I really don't know what happened to him! I'm worried about him. Help him, please!"

By then, I didn't really think Trey knew what had happened to Quay... but, the sergeant in me also figured that he still knew more than he was telling me. "Alright, Trey... alright. Fine then, just tell me... what you DO know."

Trey cleared his throat, and blink a few times.

"Well, sarge...", he began. "Earlier today, at around 1400 or so, Me and Quay were coming off guard duty in the port-elevator bays. And, after... we took a shortcut, through the civie mess... to avoid having to go all the way back, through the hangerbay. So, there we were... walking along, minding our own business..."

"...and reading the GAR Field Manual, no doubt...", I added sarcastically. Trey took the barb without complaint, and pushed on with his tale.

"And, then this crewer... a human, male... walked over and asked if we wanted to... ummm", Trey hesitated again. I motioned for him to go on. After only a second, he spilled the rest.

"To a.. ah... to a party. A civie party."

For a moment, Trey forgot that he was supposed to have been the voice of reason... the one that his little brother, hadn't headed. Then he looked away, and coughed slightly. "Uh, what I mean.. is.." I interrupted him, for more important information that I wanted.

"Where?"

By his head, falling into his hands... I saw that he had finally accepted, that any chance of escaping all punishment was gone... for both of them. "Below decks, somewhere. On one of the engineering levels.", he informed me at last. Then, quickly... "That's all I know, Sarge... honest."

I looked over at Quay... who was now, dancing with himself ...in the corner mirror.

Walking over to him, I grabbed him by the shoulder plates and spun him around... then, I yelled directly into his face.

"Trooper!" I ordered. "C-T, 3-0-3-4... ATTENTION!"

For a moment, it seemed that his lifetime of military training had won over. Quay shot ramrod straight, at my command... into a perfect parade ground stance.

I got close to his face, and looked closely into my brother's eyes... at the identical black-on-brown irises... the same as mine. I held Quay's helmet up, reached in, and turning-on it's light, for a closer inspection. And, as I suspected... Quays pupils refused to contract from the light. Not in the slightest.

The flourecent-white light, also had the effect of making the painted markings on Quay's armor... glow! Except for, where it was being smeared by the constant droplets of sweat, caused by constant, frantic movements Well, I consoled myself... at least Quay wasn't suffering from dehydration, yet.

"Is he going to be okay? Whats wrong with him, Sarge?" From behind me came Trey's quivering voice.

"He'll be fine." I announced, as I reached into my emergency med-case (as the units medic, I keep it on me, at all times...even when 'off-duty';) and withdrew a hypo of mild sedative.

I carefully measured out an appropriate portion of the red liquid in a vial, that I had also pulled from my pack. "He's suffering from a glitterstim-overdose... but, only a mild one. I was told what to look for, a few times back on Kamino, in training." Without giving Quay any warning... I leaned down, and drove the needle sharply... into his left thigh.

Again, he didn't even seem to notice. He just smiled down at me, and went on dancing... palms raised to the ceiling. I rose and looked again, carefully... into his eyes.

"Quay? Hey, Quay! Quay...? It's me, Oni! Hey!..." He still didn't seem to be able to hear me, but I had to keep trying to get his attention. To keep him from going into a sudden stim-induced coma... as can happen with first time users, we were told.

"Where were you tonight, Quay?" I tried asking him. "Who were you with?" But, Quay continued to ignore me. Undaunted, I went on with my interrogation.

"Who adminstered the stims to you, Private? Who? Was it one of the ships crew?"

Although he didn't give me an answer, Quay did look me in the eye for a moment... I tried to get through, while I had a chance.

"Answer me, Trooper! Who gave you the 'stims, Quay? Who? C'mon, Quay... answer me! Give me a name, Quay... do you know who it was?"

His eyes suddenly stopped chasing his hallucinations, and focused on me for a second... so, I drove my questions home. "C'mon spit it out! Who was it, Quay? Who? Who?...WHO?!"

This time, Quay did... finally... give his sergeant, a verbal response.

"Whooo-let-the-Jawas-ahh-oot? Who? ...who-who-who, WHO?!"

I stepped back in confusion, trying to make sense of the strange words... and, was about to repeat my questions; when Quay, suddenly stopped dancing. He stood for a moment, slightly swaying... looking like he had been on guard-duty for over a week straight. Then, his eyes rolled back in his head... and his euphoric expression drooped...

I caught him, just as he slipped into total unconsciousness.

Trey rushed forward, ready to assist me. But, I called him off... suddenly, very annoyed with him. "Relax... I said he'll be fine, didn't I?" I reminded at my brother, through clenched teeth.

"What happened to him?"

"I gave him a sed-shot... a heavy one." Placing Quays snoring body gently on the bed, I then added, acidly. "Not that you'd care, brother!"By the time I turned, to finally face Trey... I was furious!

Trey, just looked shocked. But, before he say anything in his defense, I continued raving at him. "You... you let him go off with some sleemo, to a civie bilge-party? ALONE?!"

"You left him alone, Trey... I asked you to help me keep him out of trouble... and, you let him go off alone. With complete strangers! Nothing else matters."

I knew the accusation would really hurt... a brother never abandons a brother.

"No, Sarge! I'd never do that!" came his indignation-based reply to the charge. I saw his guilty conscience, welling up in his eyes... and that it was genuine, yet... it still left a very bad feeling in my gut. What I call my 'sergeants-sense'.

Then, I suddenly noticed was so obtrusively missing... and I quickly looked again, around the room. Then, I rushed through the common 'fresher to check my own room, next door. A moment later, I returned... more worried now, than before.

With slow purpose, I asked none-to-politely. "Trey... where is Deuce?"

He dropped his head, and muttered... "I told you, I didn't let Quay go alone."

"Trey...", Growing more and more nervous, I dared probe further. "I asked you a question, Private..." I punctuated, having no qualms this time... about 'pulling-rank'. "Where... is Deuce?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, as if to avoid the glare from a impending explosion, Trey tilted his head and meekly answered. "In there..."

"Where...?"

His reluctantly opened eyes, now darted towards the 'fresher.

Having just come through there... and, sure I hadn't seen our missing brother inside... or, in his and my shared cabin opposite this one; I curiously, and cautiously... re-approached the lav. But, to my puzzlement, the small room did again, appear to be empty. Except for, this time... I noticed one possible place, that I hadn't checked before.

Looking at the door to the sani-streamer, my hand hovered over the release button... as I braced myself for whatever I might possibly see inside.

Swinging open the door, quickly... (like ripping off a bandage, to lessen the pain... I suppose;) I had, indeed... at last found my brother, Deuce. He was laying in a pool of his vomit, passed out cold. An empty lum-can in was in one hand, a green glowing-neon, illuma-stick... in the other. Plus, some kind of baldron of plastoid-flowers, adorned his likewise neon-decorated chestplates.

And, I noticed lastly... what looked like... female lip-stain... smeared all over his mouth! And, both cheeks!

With an explosive sigh... and, without further comment, or even so much as a glance at Trey... I exited the cabin as swiftly as I could... before I totally lost my temper with all of them!

Although, I didn't quite slam the door on my way out... I did make sure that it's latches were securely in place...

Each, with a decidely intentional... 'CLUNK'!

Now, more than ever, I am convinced that the sooner every GAR trooper gets off of this kriffing civilian crewed vessel, the better!