Here - some lighthearted nonsense. :D Thanks to SandriasSaber and FantasyProductions19, who both gave me, whether intentionally or not, some ideas for this misadventure . . . The ideas don't show up in this particular chapter, but still. :)
Hunter stepped off the boarding ramp of the Havoc Marauder and looked curiously around. The landing platform was empty, but he was sure that Cody had said "Landing Platform Thirty."
As a matter of fact, Cody's exact words had been, "You boys get to Landing Platform Thirty on the double, and don't keep Grandmaster Yoda waiting."
The Bad Batch got there on the double, all right, and landed, leaving one of Fox's men on a speeder about five kilometers behind. Hunter presumed he was upset about the speed Tech was flying at. That, or he didn't appreciate the way Tech cut through five lanes of traffic and barrel-rolled into a sixth. Hunter hadn't much appreciated it himself, to be honest.
Wrecker stomped down the ramp. "You're going to get us in trouble, Tech!"
"Only if we're caught," Tech replied. "And – oh. Are we on the wrong landing platform?"
"No." Crosshair flicked a toothpick across the platform. It bounced off the large number thirty painted along the support column.
Tech sniffed. "Then we might get caught after all. I had presumed we'd leave the moment Master Yoda got on board, but he doesn't seem to be here."
With a resigned shrug, Hunter turned to face the traffic lane they'd just left. Within ninety seconds, a speeder streaked up to the platform and skidded to a halt.
Commander Fox dismounted, went right up to the Marauder without acknowledging any of the commandos, and checked the registry number on his scanner.
Hunter focused a thoughtful gaze on the commander's speeder. There were no distinctive markings. If he'd known it was Fox out on patrol duty, and not one of his men, he'd have been a little more forceful about making Tech listen.
Fox finished entering the number and marched up to Hunter. "All right, which of you idiots was flying just now?"
Hunter pointed at Tech. Tech pointed at Crosshair. Crosshair pointed at Wrecker, and Wrecker pointed at Hunter.
Hunter performed a slight double-take and blinked. What . . .
Fox tilted his head back slightly - he was probably rolling his eyes. Then he removed his helmet and focused an intense glare on Hunter. It just about matched Cody's glare. Hunter was impressed.
"Want to run that by me again?" Fox growled.
Hunter glanced at Tech, who raised a hand. "I was piloting."
"Name, trooper."
"Tech."
"What are you doing here?"
"Commander Cody sent us to landing platform thirty."
Fox glanced at the platform number. "Did he say to break every traffic regulation in existence while doing it?"
"No, sir," said Tech. "But with all due respect, Commander, I did not break every traffic regulation. Only seven."
Hunter shut his eyes briefly, then reopened them to see that Fox was giving him a knowing and - mildly sympathetic? - look.
"Sir?" Hunter said.
"Were you aware that your teammate broke seven traffic regulations?"
". . . No, sir."
"You were aware that he was most likely breaking regulations, though."
"Yes, sir."
"Did you attempt to stop him?"
"I . . ." Hunter thought for a moment, winced at how idiotic his next words would sound, and said them anyway. "I told him to be more careful, sir."
"Ah." Fox pulled out a stylus and wrote something down. "I take it you are here on a mission."
"We were supposed to meet with General Yoda, sir."
Fox's gaze flitted from one side to the other.
"He might be running a bit late," Hunter said, wondering why Fox's eyes were narrowed in suspicion.
Fox's gaze traveled up, and then he barked, "General Yoda!"
The four commandos spun around in surprise.
A small, green alien with large ears and a brown robe hopped down from his position atop the Havoc Marauder. "Commander Fox! Good to see you, it is."
"What in space were you doing up there?" Fox asked, without returning the pleasantry.
"Spying on you, I was, Commander."
Crosshair blinked once, slowly, then shook his head. "I've been watching the ship since we landed. No one approached it."
"Correct, you are." Yoda hobbled up to him, paused, and added, "And skinny you are as well. Feed you, do they not?"
Wrecker laughed and pounded Hunter on the back.
Crosshair twitched, as though about he'd been about to snap back but remembered in time that he was speaking to a general. "You didn't approach the ship," he said again.
"Just now, I did not." Yoda's ears tilted upward. "But see me get on earlier, you did not, hm? HMM?"
Crosshair had to lean forward to keep his gaze on the tiny general. "No. Why?"
"Because on it, I have been, for some time, yes."
Fox sighed loudly and put his helmet back on.
Tech was staring curiously at the Jedi. "How much time, specifically, General?"
The short Jedi gripped Tech's wrist and pulled it down to the level of his face. He stared at the chronometer for a long moment. "Three minutes and seven seconds, yes."
"Then . . ." Tech reclaimed his wrist, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his gaze. "You were there the entire time –"
"The entire time that fly like a maniac, you did."
Fox performed the rather odd action of facepalming with his helmet on.
"Worse than Skywalker, you are," went on Yoda. "And saying much, that is."
". . . Right," said Hunter. "Well, General. Cody said you needed a ride."
"A ride, I have had. Another, I could use."
There was a long pause. An odd little bug with long blue antenna scampered by. Yoda stared placidly down at it as though divining the mysteries of the universe.
"Where are we headed?" Hunter tried at last.
"Know this for certain, we cannot," said Yoda. "All things, the Force guides. It ebbs and flows. Binds us together -"
"Master Yoda," groaned Fox.
"My name, that is," Yoda said. "And rude, you are being. But come, come, Sergeant! Lollygag, we should not." He turned and moved painfully toward the Marauder. His movements were stilted and slow, completely unlike his adroit spring down from the top of the ship.
Hunter turned uncertainly to Fox.
The commander took off his helmet again, ran a hand through his hair, and let out a long, unnaturally loud sigh. "Cody, so help me . . ." he muttered.
Hunter raised a confused eyebrow. Is he comming the Commander?
"So," said Wrecker with a shrug. "Are we gonna go with General Yoda, or . . .?"
Fox cleared his datapad with a decisive flick. "You guys get the general out of here. Good luck, Sergeant."
His tone was fatalistic. Hunter wasn't sure whether or not he should be concerned.
Tech tilted his head from one side to the other. "Commander," he said a bit hesitantly. "What about . . ."
"I SHOULD write you up for an infraction of the law," said Fox briskly. "But it's not my jurisdiction, I have a lot of work to do, and I've got another Jedi to deal with in -" He checked his comm and wilted a bit. "- less than ten minutes."
He muttered something under his breath. It sounded like he said 'that kriffing Kiffar', but Hunter couldn't imagine why a clone commander would cuss out a Jedi . . . He'd probably just misheard Fox.
"Right," Hunter said. "Thanks, Commander."
"Don't thank me yet," said Fox ominously. "Oh, and Tech? Tear through the Senate district like that again, and I will personally ensure that you are forbidden from piloting for the next year. You got that?"
Tech saluted sharply. "Yes, sir!"
One after another, the commandos mounted the boarding ramp and entered the ship. Crosshair leaned his rifle against the wall and slid into the co-pilot seat while Wrecker and Hunter took the two back seats. Tech piloted, and his takeoff was precisely within regulation. Hunter hadn't seen him take off that way since their first trip off Kamino. Tech favored the 'start the engine once you're in the air' approach.
"Where are we headed?" Tech asked, when Commander Fox's receding figure had finally vanished from sight.
"I don't know," said Hunter. "General? . . . Wait, where is the general?"
"Right here, I am." Yoda hobbled into the cockpit and looked interestedly around. "Fly to Level One Thousand, Three Hundred and Thirteen', we will."
"We're going down to Thirteen Thirteen?" Wrecker demanded excitedly. "Even we've heard about that!"
"Wait, wait, wait," said Hunter. "I haven't heard about it."
"Cross and I looked into it," explained Wrecker with worrying enthusiasm. "You can get all the illegal weapons you can think of down there!"
"True, this is," said Yoda thoughtfully. "Purchased a flamethrower once, I did."
The stunned silence that followed lasted while Tech guided the ship into a descending shaft.
"General?" Wrecker finally ventured. "Why'd you do that?"
Yoda gazed mournfully at the control panel, since he couldn't actually see out the viewport. "Information, I had need of. Trade the flamethrower for it, I did."
Hunter suddenly got a mental image of the miniscule Jedi trying to tote around a flamethrower. He snorted, choked, then turned it into a relatively convincing cough, which fooled none of his teammates in the least.
"Might I ask what we are doing on Level Thirteen Thirteen?" Tech asked.
Yoda inclined his head. "Ask, you may."
There was a short pause.
". . . What are we doing on Level Thirteen Thirteen?" Tech tried at last.
"Meet with a contact, we will. Then, raid my favorite store, I will."
Hunter narrowed his eyes in mild concern. "How much of this . . . mission . . . is on the record, sir?"
"Ask for you specifically, I did," said Yoda. "Off the record, some of your tasks are."
"And what about this store?" Crosshair asked suspiciously.
"Only a moment, my purchase will take me. Stay on the ship, you should. Draw attention, you will."
Crosshair cast a highly skeptical look at the lightsaber the general wore. "What about -"
"About me, worry, do not."
And with that they had to be satisfied until Tech landed on the extremely shabby platform that Yoda directed him to.
"Keep watch, you should," Yoda directed, staring darkly out over the platform. "Dangerous, this area is. An ambush, I suspect."
He shuffled swiftly towards the shadowed area at one end of the platform.
"Someone's waiting for him," Tech reported. "I don't see anyone else nearby."
"Keep scanning," said Hunter. "Wrecker, take left. I'll take right. Cross - up top."
Crosshair slung his rifle over his shoulder and clambered up the side of the Marauder. When he reached the top, he lay flat, using his scope to zoom in on Master Yoda's position. "Still just two of 'em," he reported.
"Okay."
Ten quiet minutes passed, with no new alarms. Tech paced along, from one end of the ship to the other, keeping various scans running constantly, while Hunter flicked his gaze between the general's position and the surrounding area.
With a dull buzz, one of the overhead lights flickered out. Then another. Then another.
Hunter spun around, hand resting on his pistol. "Tech, talk to me."
"Sensors are jammed." Tech typed furiously. "Not for long, though. They're using a narrow-band freque-"
"Wait," said Hunter, as little points of electricity pinged at the back of his mind. "Something's . . ."
"Incoming," stated Crosshair. He twisted around slightly and fired. "Battle droids."
"How'd the Seps get them in here?" Hunter drew his knife, then his pistol.
"I don't think they did," said Tech. "These droids are using a code that was defunct in the Separatist army nearly two months ago."
"Like it matters," grouched Wrecker. "Let's just smash 'em all!"
An entire transport of droids landed across the platform, between them and the general.
Hunter lunged forward. "Wrecker! Retrieve the general and get onboard. We're leaving!"
"On my way!" Wrecker charged into the thick of the fray.
"Fire!" said one of the battle droids in a rather flat tone. "Kill the clones!"
"What if we surrender, clanker?" shouted Tech.
"Surrender?!" The droid paused, brought his blaster to rest position, and approached another droid. "Hey, Sergeant, do we take prisoners?"
"Uhhhhhhhhh . . ." The sergeant droid rubbed a hand over its metal head, then shrugged. "I don't know. What did the Count want us to do?"
"Die," said Crosshair succinctly, and sent a bolt through both of them.
From the other side of the platform, Wrecker let out a laugh. "Aw, that wasn't nice, Crosshair!"
Hunter looked up from his work - namely, scattering five droids piecemeal across the duracrete - and saw that Wrecker was running back toward the others, and that he had picked up the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order. In fact, Yoda looked rather like a figurehead on a boat - he was leaning forward, feet braced against Wrecker's side and arms folded in his robes; as Wrecker ran, Yoda peered out over the city, wearing a grim and heroic expression.
Hunter almost tripped over his own feet. "General?"
"Bring reinforcements!" wailed a droid as Tech gifted it with an EC to the face.
"TO THE SHIP, WE MUST GET!" hollered Yoda.
Crosshair was lying on his stomach, elbows braced on the roof of the ship, but he slouched as he fired shot after shot. He was bored with the easy battle, and Hunter couldn't exactly blame him. The droids were scarcely even shooting. Instead, they milled about, waving their arms and letting out cries of mechanical panic. Hunter almost felt bad for them. A quick series of shots and slashes assuaged his conscience though - the droids were easily cured of their worry - and then the commandos rushed back to their ship.
This time, Tech didn't take off with anything that even slightly resembled safety.
"What was that all about?" Hunter demanded.
"Betray the Republic, my contact did," said Yoda. He gave an age-weary sigh and sank onto the ground, seating himself in a cross-legged meditative posture. "Some deactivated battle droids from a previous defeat in battle, he had. An assassination attempt, this was."
Hunter nodded his understanding. "We'll get you back to the Temple, General."
"A rush, there is not." Yoda pulled a gimer stick out of nowhere and tapped one end thoughtfully against the ground. "Coordinates, I will give you, Tech. Visit that shop, we must."
Wrecker looked interested. Crosshair looked as though he were trying to appear bored. Tech simply nodded unsuspiciously.
Hunter left the cockpit to check on the commstation. He had no idea what Yoda wanted at this shop, but he hoped it wasn't another flamethrower. If it was a flamethrower, that meant there would be other dangerous weapons in the store. If there were other dangerous weapons in the store, Hunter would have to beg, bribe, coerce and finally threaten his teammates - well, Wrecker and Crosshair - or he'd spend the next week there. If he had to beg, bribe, coerce and threaten them, he wouldn't have the energy to deal with whatever chaotic thing Tech dreamed up next. If he didn't have the energy to deal with whatever chaotic thing Tech dreamed up next . . .
Hunter rubbed his forehead, then adjusted his bandana. I wonder what Master Yoda wants so much.
Five minutes later, Tech landed the Havoc Marauder and opened the boarding ramp. Hunter glanced out. The small, clean-looking store with frosted windows had a sign above it, which read, 'Chella Chuchi's Chocolates'.
"Huh," said Wrecker. "What are chocolates?"
The Jedi narrowed his eyes regretfully and stared at the ground. "Hm," he sighed after a long moment. "Know what chocolate is, you do not? Rectify this, I should."
My 'Misadventure' Yoda bears a shocking resemblance to Lego Yoda. Ah well . . . Next part will be up soon! I anticipate three sections . . . possibly four.