A/N: Welcome to this little self-indulgent fic of mine. Aside from Wolffe, Boost, Sinker, Comet, and Longshot, all characters are OCs. I've also given Boost and Longshot backgrounds. (You can thank Cuthalion97 for the inspiration of Longshot's. nwn) This takes place not long after the Malevolence arc, and before Wolffe loses his eye.
I was listening to Mass Effect-Vigil while writing most of this. Enjoy! :D
"Noooooo!"
As one, Wolfpack whipped out their blasters and pointed them toward the scream.
Craig strained his eyes, seeing nothing within the flickering lights of the tunnel before them. The cry was distorted by echoes and distance, but he knew it was from something living. For that moment, at least.
None of the Wolfpack clones moved or spoke until the echoes died out. Craig couldn't bring himself to lower his blaster, and neither did any of the others.
"So," Harper said after a long minute. "We gonna see who or what that was?"
"Are you volunteering?" Fall Back hissed.
Wolffe ended all discussion by waving to the clones closest to him. "The five of you, come with me. Comet, Zones, Fall Back, stay on guard here."
Craig held back a groan at being chosen. Boost had warned him that Wolfpack had some odd missions, but this mission had gone far off the charts of "odd" and right into "creepy."
Craig trailed Wolffe and Sinker, keeping his gun up. At his side, Boost did the same. Trajectory squeezed between them to get to the front, and Harper came last with a nervous chuckle.
"Have something to say, Harper?" Wolffe asked.
"Yeah. If we die in here, Peasant gets my meteorite collection."
"I thought Fall Back had dibs," Craig said as they advanced inside.
"That was before he let me walk into the haunted tunnel," Harper said.
"We all appreciate your sacrifice, brother," Fall Back called after them.
"The outpost is no more haunted than the munitions room on G deck," Sinker said.
"Since when do you believe in ghosts?" Boost muttered.
"Obviously, you two don't spend enough time on G deck," Harper said.
"Quiet," Wolffe ordered.
The clones did as they were told, but Craig didn't miss that everyone was walking a lot closer together than normal. Craig didn't believe in ghosts himself, but…
All things considered, he wasn't about to lower his blaster. Because Craig wasn't looking to be the next victim.
An hour earlier…
"Ugh, this is going to be the most boring mission ever," Harper said.
Fall Back jostled his arm. "Cheer up. Tomorrow, we'll be back in the battle zone."
"Because getting shot at is better than a quiet day," Comet dead-panned.
"I'm used to missions more exciting than delivery," Harper defended himself.
"It's a retrieval mission," Wolffe said, managing to give Harper a stern look through his helmet.
Harper shrugged a shoulder. "Call it what you want. We're delivery boys."
Leaning against the gunship wall, Craig had to grin at Harper's complaints. Personally, he was perfectly happy for a quick, quiet mission. The squad had had a close call just the previous day, and Craig highly suspected that General Plo had arranged it to give the squad a breather.
Craig's thoughts were interrupted when Trajectory left the cockpit. His helmet was off, revealing a baffled frown.
"Commander, I thought we were the only squad deployed for this mission," Trajectory said.
"We are."
"Well, there's a Republic shuttle nearby," Trajectory reported. "It's five klicks north of the landing zone, though."
"Are you sure it's one of ours?" Wolffe asked.
Trajectory nodded unnecessarily. Everyone knew he had the best eyesight of the squad.
Wolffe was quiet for a moment, then said, "Tell Weave to hover over the shuttle."
Trajectory saluted and returned to the cockpit. The gunship's speed slowed, and Craig could feel its descent. He straightened to grab an overhead strap.
"Who do you think it is?" Sinker asked Wolffe.
"I don't know," Wolffe said slowly. "No Republic forces have been sent here for over a month. And the relay satellite we're retrieving isn't important enough for the Separatists to bother with."
"Shuttle could be stolen," Boost offered.
"Pirates?" Harper suggested, sounding eager for trouble.
"Except there's absolutely nothing out here but trees," Zones said. He had a holo-projector in one hand showing the surrounding area. "Nearest village is forty klicks away, and calling it a village is generous."
"We'll see soon enough," Wolffe said.
Wolffe went to the back wall and pressed the button to open the sides of the gunship. Craig leaned cautiously out.
The shuttle was half-hidden on the edge of a small clearing. It didn't have any defining markings on it to show who might own it. There wasn't anyone around, either.
Wolffe tapped the side of his helmet. "Bring the ship down, Weave."
The gunship settled gently on the ground. Keeping an eye on the surrounding trees, Craig stepped outside.
Up close, it was clear the shuttle had seen some action. Dents and the remnants of carbon scoring littered the hull. Marked by a welding seam, half of one of the wings was a darker metal than the rest of the ship.
"I don't think it's one of ours," Craig said to Wolffe. "Not anymore, at least."
Wolffe responded by saying in a tired voice, "Fall Back."
Craig blinked, then turned with Wolffe. Fall Back, his back in a sheepish arch, stood near a narrow trail into the trees.
"There's, uh, footprints leading that way," Fall Back said as he rejoined the group.
"I see them," Wolffe said, still in that tired voice. "But wait a minute."
Fall Back linked his hands behind his back and rocked a bit on his heels.
Craig looked at the ground. The boarding ramp was closed, but he could see the impression of where it had rested on the ground. Around it, numerous footprints milled randomly around the shuttle before going straight to the trail. In the midst of the footprints, a single set was prominent in how deeply the owner's toes had dug into the dirt.
"Should we call?" Harper asked.
Wolffe considered the question for a minute, then nodded. Harper removed his helmet and gave a loud, long shout.
"Hellooooo!"
Everyone waited in silence, but there was no response.
"Maybe it's abandoned," Harper suggested, running a hand through his curly hair.
Boost shook his head. "The shuttle is worn out, but it hasn't been left out in the elements for long. There would be more dirt on it, and the grass underneath would be brown."
"Well, whoever owns the shuttle is long gone," came Trajectory's voice from above. "There's no sign of anyone here."
Craig looked at Trajectory standing atop the gunship. He had his rangefinder down as he turned in slow circles.
Clunk! Clunk! Click-thunk!
"Oops," Harper said.
Harper stepped away from the shuttle ramp, which now hung halfway open. He raised his hands.
"I just knocked," Harper said.
Sinker shook his head as he stepped closer. He peered through the gap, then went to a panel to the side and lowered the ramp all the way.
"What is it?" Wolffe asked.
"It is one of ours," Sinker said. He pointed inside. "Look."
Indeed, inside the shuttle were spare pieces of armor and several blasters like the one Craig carried. A crate near the door had the Republic symbol on the side.
Curious, Craig stepped to the foot of the ramp.
The shuttle had no personal details or numbers to indicate to which battalion it belonged. It was incredibly tidy, the only thing out of place being the door of a compartment on the wall hanging open on one hinge.
Wolffe stepped inside first. He turned on the lights. The lights shone brightly, a bit surprising considering the shuttle's worn-out appearance. The rest of Wolfpack followed, curiously checking for signs of an absent squad.
Craig went to the compartment door and lifted it. A medical symbol was on the outside. Craig guessed two good-sized med kits could fit inside the compartment, but both were gone.
Craig started to turn away, then paused. He pulled off his helmet, then ran a finger down the wall, where a long gash marred it. Maybe a knife?
Except, the top of the compartment door had a small hole at the top, where the door met the wall. Some sort of claw, then?
"Hey, Zones?" Harper said slowly, sounding a bit spooked. "Does this look real to you?"
Craig turned as the stripe-armored clone joined Harper at the cockpit door. Zones leaned closer to see whatever Harper was pointing at.
Harper suddenly grabbed Zones, yelling, "Look out!"
Zones leaped back with a shout. "Kriff! Harper, don't do that!"
Harper bent over, laughing so hard that he had to grab the doorway. Zones slapped his shoulder and stalked away.
Craig tilted his head. "Harper?"
Still bent over and breathlessly laughing, Harper waved Craig over. Apprehensively, Craig joined him.
The cockpit was as bare as the rest of the ship. Craig noticed more cuts on the console, though. He turned toward Harper, then did a double-take of the pilot's seat.
There was an arm on the seat. Just an arm, the hand clenched in a loose fist.
"Craig, you- it's not real!" Harper gasped between laughter.
Craig remembered to breathe again. Giving Harper an unimpressed frown, Craig reached down.
Hesitated.
It sure looked real, detailed from the skin tone down to the fingernails. The only thing that finally gave it away was the hollow end of the arm, where metal was clearly visible.
"Who keeps a fake arm in their ship?" Craig asked in exasperation, turning away.
"A fake what?" Sinker asked.
Harper picked up the arm and waved it. Half the squad reflexively flinched, so Craig didn't feel as embarrassed about his reaction. Zones refused to look at it.
"Did you see this?" Zones asked.
Craig looked at him, and realized he wasn't just ignoring Harper. He was staring at a spot on the wall, where another scratch marred the surface.
Now that Craig thought about it, a lot of surfaces inside the shuttle were scratched. It got weirder when Craig, tilting his head back in thought, spotted even more scratches marring the ceiling.
"Something must have run them off," Wolffe said after a minute.
"What kind of something?" Zones asked, backing away from the wall.
"There weren't any strange tracks outside," Boost said. He went to the door. "Traj, still nothing?"
"Forest's empty." There was a pause, then, "Too empty, actually. Something's happened."
"I agree," Wolffe said, walking quickly outside. "Close it up and get your gear. We're going to follow the tracks. Whoever it is may need help."
The squad hurried to their gunship. Those who didn't already have their blasters grabbed them, and everyone grabbed extra battery packs. Craig put on the pack with the med kit and extra rations.
"Lock up," Wolffe told Weave once everyone was geared up and outside. "Don't open the ship until we get back. Take off if something approaches, and let us know."
"If I see so much as a whisker of something, I'm calling," Weave assured Wolffe.
Wolffe nodded, satisfied. Weave closed the gunship up, then Wolfpack headed down the trail.
The trail was little more than an animal track. Several times, the squad had to walk in a single file line. Boost, the best tracker, stayed at the front with Wolffe and Trajectory flanking him. Everyone else followed in no particular order except Craig, who stayed at the back.
It was a habit for the batchmates. Boost in front to assess dangers and get the squad past obstacles, and Craig guarding from behind.
Craig's new battalion didn't need the guard as much as Craig's first squad, but Wolffe usually allowed them to keep these positions in their formations. It was a fact Craig appreciated as much as the commander letting Craig join after most of Wolfpack was wiped out in a single, harsh blow.
It had been too long since he'd seen his other batchmates, Craig reflected as the squad tramped through the silent forest. Wolfpack was constantly on the move, with no time for visits.
A laugh from Harper made Craig smile. Harper's energy reminded him of Bounce, whose boundless enthusiasm had gotten him through so many difficulties in training. And Fall Back's habit of rushing ahead made Craig think of Faceplant, who never acknowledged his own limits. Comet's negativity had nothing on CT-6772's, something Craig actually missed. He hoped his brother wasn't giving Commander Bly too much trouble.
Craig's thoughts were interrupted when Boost lifted a fist, halting the squad. He peered into the trees, then stepped a bit off the trail and kicked something metal. He bent down and, when he straightened, he was holding a battle droid head.
"Hasn't been here long," Boost reported. "Power cell's still warm."
That meant whoever had destroyed the droid was, at most, a couple hours ahead of the squad. Craig wondered if whoever they were following had been surprised by the battle droid. Though if they had, they probably wouldn't have kept going.
"Whatever happened to no Separatists?" Zones asked, drawing his blaster.
"Something changed," Wolffe said. He pointed ahead. "Keep moving, but be on guard. Sinker, report this to General Plo."
Boost returned to the trail and crouched. After studying the ground for some time, he said, "They weren't surprised by the droid. Except for the runner, they were still walking."
"Runner could have been surprised by the droid," Sinker said.
Boost shook his head. "The pace never changed."
The squad kept walking, now all on guard. They walked for some time without encountering any more signs of droids, so Craig guessed it had been a scout that had been taken out. The owners of the shuttle probably hid the droid so it wouldn't be found by another patrol.
Sinker touched his helmet, then said, "General Plo confirms that no Republic forces were sent down here. Does he need to send back-up?"
"No, not yet," Wolffe said. "We may just be seeing the aftermath of a skirmish between pirates and a few droids."
Trajectory made a startled noise. "Look!"
Craig craned his neck, but couldn't see what suddenly caught everyone's attention until the trail spread out a bit. He stepped onto the freshly trampled grass.
Just ahead, the dirt trail was torn up. Bits of metal were scattered in the grass alongside the trail. And smack dab in the middle of the chaos was a patch of dark stained dirt.
Boost, kneeling beside the stain, said, "Blood."
Zones put a few pieces of the puzzle together. "That's why someone was running. They must have left their med kits on the ship, and the pilot was bringing it to the group."
"What kind of squad leaves their med kit behind?" Comet asked.
"The same kind that's not supposed to be here," Wolffe said, something dark in his tone.
Craig shifted, wondering if they were really tracking deserters. Very few clones tried to desert -what reason was there? They'd been bred to fight for the Republic- and Craig had heard stories of their punishment. Craig didn't think he could arrest his own brothers to be decommissioned.
"Do we… keep going?" Fall Back asked from where he already stood several meters ahead of everyone else.
Wolffe nodded. "Whoever it is, they have injured now."
"And they didn't go back…" Craig mused.
Craig turned the way they'd come, then back down the path. The other group was obviously headed for the relay station, so Wolfpack didn't have any reason to stop following.
"Look here," Sinker said, pointing up at a tree. "A few branches have been cut off. They might have made stretchers."
"And they kept going with their injured?" Comet shook his head. "These guys are crazy."
"Agreed," Trajectory said. He pointed into the woods. "There's a pile of battle droids under those trees. It's like they were trying to hide the fight, but a patrol of droids that size would have alerted the others."
"Who are they hiding the fights from?" Sinker asked no one in particular.
"We can ask them when we find them," Wolffe said. "Form back up. Blasters out, the tin cans will be on alert, and one group of invaders will be the same as another to them. Sinker, let General Plo know what we found. If General Faun's team is still aboard, we may need Tint."
"Yessir."
Wolfpack didn't have their own medic since the massacre by Grievous, so they usually recruited a medic from another battalion when one was needed.
Craig just hoped bringing in Tint would be unnecessary.
Before long, the squad found more signs of a fight. It was much the same as the previous battleground, though the squad noted drag marks on the ground.
"Captured?" Harper suggested.
Boost shook his head. "Look at the footprints. Those aren't from droids. They were dragging a teammate."
Which meant too many injured for stretchers. Possibly that everyone was injured, leaving no strength to carry the injured on backs. Yet the footprints went on toward the relay station.
Maybe they thought the relay station would be safer, though any sentient with half a brain would realize that droid concentration would just get worse the closer they got.
"They're going to need help," Harper said.
Wolffe nodded. "We'll keep going. Double-time."
The squad hurried on, only to grind to a halt after a couple dozen meters. Ahead, just off the trail, ten clones in unpainted armor sat unmoving against trees.
Wolffe recovered first, "What in the name of the Force are you lot doing here?"
Nobody responded. One by one, Wolfpack tensed in realization, blasters lowering.
They were dead.
Fall Back was the first to step forward, Craig right behind him. They went to the closest pair of clones. The scene was almost normal, just a couple clones resting after a battle. Except, on closer inspection, Craig could see the holes in their armor and blood on the ground.
Craig knelt and reached out to the nearest clone, then froze with a harsh inhale, eyes locked on the clone's right arm. For a horrifying split-second, all Craig could see was the arm ending at the elbow, with a bone jutting out.
Then Fall Back jerked and shouted, "Karkin-"
Both Wolfpack clones jumped back, and Craig heard his squad's weapons clack.
"H-hold on!" Craig called, regaining his breath.
In the time it had taken Craig to react, his brain had finally processed what he was seeing. The arm did end at the elbow with a metal cap over the stump. Attached to the stump was a twisted piece of metal, the purpose uncertain to Craig, but it was better than a bone.
This mystery solved, Craig turned to his second deceased brother. Fall Back had scrambled backward to the rest of his squad. While Craig kept his composure, he didn't blame his younger brother's reaction.
The dead clone's eyes were open, forever staring at nothing. But it wasn't the open eyes that had spooked Fall Back. No, it was because the eyes were pure white.
With a fair amount of trepidation, Craig returned to the first dead clone. He carefully removed his brother's helmet and lifted an eyelid. This clone's eyes were normal.
"...I have questions," Boost said from Craig's side.
"Check the others," Wolffe said.
The squad moved to the other clones, confirming no survivors. Aside from the brief heart attack caused by a clone's detached metal foot, the squad didn't find anything else odd. Craig had to admit it was a bit creepy that they all were sitting upright, though. Something had very intentionally positioned them that way.
Once everyone had been checked, Sinker reported the dead clones to General Plo. Craig apprehensively looked further along the trail. More tracks led onward, the trail spotted with blood.
Craig had silently decided that the shuttle's owners had to be non-clones since there weren't any squads supposed to be on the planet besides Wolfpack. And why would clones be in such a battered shuttle, anyway?
"Let's go," Wolffe said.
Craig left his position in the rear to join Boost. Everyone was quieter than normal, either shaken by the strange sight of the missing limbs and foggy eyes or, like Craig, trying to discern what the other clones were doing there.
Either the clones were deserters or a lost squad. Craig sincerely hoped it was the latter, and that they'd find some living brothers to bring home.
The satellite loomed overhead, throwing a massive shadow over yet another battleground.
Again, a few clones leaned against trees, but five of the eight clones outside the cliff face housing the station appeared to have simply fallen where they stood. Droid parts were piled haphazardly near the tree line.
Craig gazed mournfully at his dead brothers. What were they fighting so hard to do?
"Commander!" Comet suddenly called. "This one's still alive!"
Everyone hurried to Comet, who knelt in front of a clone leaning upright against a tree. Another clone was slumped on the ground nearby, as if he'd sat down and… simply never gotten up again. An empty med kit sat between the two.
The clone against the tree was in bad shape, his armor shattered and burned. Bacta patches and bandages unevenly covered his bloodied middle, and his breath came in uncertain rasps. His eyes were clenched, his hands twitching and grasping at nothing.
Craig instinctively reached out and let the clone grab his arm. This seemed to calm the clone, who gave a weary sigh and became quiet. Craig felt a jolt of alarm, then calmed once he realized the clone's breathing had turned even.
"Trooper," Craig said softly. "Wake up."
The clone's eyes fluttered open. He mumbled, "M… mission… com… plete?"
"What mission?" Craig whispered.
The clone's head rocked back-and-forth as he mumbled, "Got… to… go…"
Craig tried something more straightforward, "What's your name, trooper?"
"Long… shot… you… know…" Longshot blinked blearily, his eyes finally coming to something resembling focus. "...kriff."
The reaction might have been funny if Longshot hadn't promptly tried to sit up. Craig and Comet held him down. Longshot gave one big thrash before falling back, panting.
"Steady, Longshot," Craig soothed. "You're safe now."
"No," Longshot breathed. "Death."
Craig and Comet exchanged confused looks.
Craig asked, "What about death?"
"Death… here… get… out…" Longshot's grip on Craig's arm tightened. "Trap! Issa…"
Longshot's eyes rolled back, then he went limp. He didn't rouse again, no matter how many times Craig said his name. Craig gave up, taking comfort in the fact that Longshot was still breathing. He leaned back, carefully setting Longshot's arm down.
Comet took a medkit from Craig's pack to redo Longshot's bandages. Sinker stood to the side with Wolffe, discussing the situation with General Plo. Boost and Zones were kneeling on either side of Craig, while Trajectory, Harper, and Fall Back checked the perimeter.
Trajectory stopped before the entrance to the station. "More tracks over here. Looks like someone did get inside."
Wolffe returned, saying, "Generals Plo and Faun are on their way with a team-"
That was when the tortured scream rent the air. Everyone spun toward the tunnel carved into the cliffside. Nothing moved, inside or outside, until Wolffe signaled for five of the squad to follow him inside.
Under the flickering lights, Craig scanned the tunnel. It was roughly carved, and Craig knew from the mission report that the station for the relay satellite was inside, along with an abandoned barrack from a long-ago outpost.
The group advanced, dodging the occasional wrecked droid, until they reached a fork in the tunnel. They stopped and listened, but there weren't any sounds from either direction.
Wolffe pointed to Craig, Boost, and Sinker, then to the right. Then, gesturing to Harper and Trajectory, he headed to the left.
Boost took point and Craig dropped to the back, leaving Sinker in the middle. The tunnel was empty of droids. Craig wondered if the droids had been stationed at the controls, and if Wolffe's team was going to walk right into a trap.
Wait…
"Hold on," Craig said over internal comms. "Longshot said there was a trap here. Seppies must have known we were coming to dismantle the satellite. Longshot's squad might have been sent to clear them out."
"Off the record?" Comet said skeptically. "Why?"
Craig faltered at that. "I don't know."
"We'll ask whoever we find," Wolffe said. "Keep moving."
After several meters, Boost held up a fist. With the quiet footsteps silenced, Craig picked up another sound.
Crying.
Boost tapped the comm, signaling Wolffe his team had found something. They advanced even more slowly before the tunnel widened, then opened into the barracks.
Three clones were inside, surrounded by decayed bunks shoved against the wall. The nearest clone stood with a slight hunch, one hand on his chest as he wheezed. In the middle of the floor, a clone knelt with the third clone in his arms. The third clone's chest armor was shattered, a gaping hole in his chest. Blood pooled under them. Across the room, a commando droid laid in a crumpled, sparking heap.
The second clone was the source of the crying, his helmet pressed against the top of his fallen brother's. He was muttering something, incoherent through his tears. His unpainted armor made Craig wonder if it was his first battle, and Craig stepped closer.
The wheezing clone finally noticed them, jolting to attention. His helmet snapped from Craig to his crying companion, then back. He spoke first, a single word.
"Kriff."
His voice made the crying clone lift his head a bit. He jerked, then made an unsteady attempt to stand.
"Easy," Sinker said, stepping forward. "What are you doing here?"
"Cover sweep," the crying clone said in a husky voice. He ducked and grabbed his dead brother's arms. "I-I'm sorry, sir, we meant to be- we didn't- Lucky, help me."
The wheezing clone -Lucky, Craig guessed- didn't move. He was silent, except for another quiet "kriff."
Sinker straightened. "I said, what are you doing here, troopers?"
The two looked at each other.
Lucky eventually spoke, "Dying."
"Lucky!" exclaimed his companion.
Lucky pulled off his helmet and met Sinker's gaze. His short hair gleamed with sweat and grease, and his face was gaunt.
"We were sent here to die," Lucky said.
"That sounds a lot like 'desert' to me," Sinker said.
Craig winced. Harsh, but it was increasingly sounding like deserting is what they were trying to do. He wondered if this mission had gone wrong, or if they'd been hiding and surprised by the Seppies.
The unnamed clone dragged his dead brother back onto his knees. He didn't argue, but Lucky's eyes flared at the accusation.
"Never," Lucky bit out. "I'd never betray the Republic, or my brothers. That's why I agreed to this suicide mission."
"Lucky-"
"No, Crawl," Lucky interrupted. "I'm ending this now. What's the worst that could happen?"
"You know what," Crawl hissed back. "Mission number one-"
"Well, it's too late for that!" Lucky exclaimed. His voice lowered. "The captain is lying to you, Crawl. We need to do this."
"Do what?" Boost interrupted, pushing past Sinker. "Where is your captain?"
"Kamino," was Lucky's angry response.
Boost startled. "Then, who was your commanding officer on this mission?"
This question gave Lucky pause. After a moment, he pointed at Crawl. "I guess it would be Crawl. He's made it the longest of us."
Craig frowned. Lucky was making less and less sense. No commanding officers?
Sinker sighed and pressed his comm. "Commander, we've found two survivors, but they aren't making any sense."
"We'll join you soon," Wolffe said. "The control room is already cleared."
Lucky shuddered, then stumbled back a step. Boost quickly went to support him. Craig went to kneel beside Crawl, who was still crying softly.
"It isn't easy," Craig said, putting a hand on Crawl's shoulder.
"I-I promised him," Crawl sniffed. "Never to leave him. Shouldn'ta let him go alone. But the commandos surprised us, and… and, I'm so, so sorry, Faceplant."
Craig felt like his veins had turned to ice. He looked at the fallen brother, then hesitantly reached out. Crawl sniffed and shifted to help Craig remove Faceplant's helmet.
Again, Craig stopped breathing.
"No," Craig whispered. "Faceplant, no."
Crawl looked at him. Craig removed his own helmet, sorrow filling him as he realized it was his batchmate on the floor.
"Craig?" Crawl whispered.
Craig blinked, surprise bringing him back to the present. Crawl's attention shifted to Boost, who'd also removed his helmet to check on Lucky.
"Boost?" Crawl said.
Boost looked over at his name. Crawl turned his head back to Craig, swallowed, then spoke. His voice was a bit more clear than before.
"I'm sorry."
Craig looked closer at Crawl. Though they both knelt, Craig was taller. He'd put it to Crawl's slumped posture, but he'd straightened when he said Boost's name. Up close, Craig could see padding under Crawl's pauldrons, as if they didn't fit. His body armor, too, was loose…
No, it couldn't be!
"Bounce?!" Craig exclaimed.
Bounce nodded, a miserable tilt to his shoulders. "I'm sorry, I tried to protect him-"
"You're supposed to be on Kamino!" Boost exclaimed, right as Wolffe's group joined them.
Bounce was on his feet so fast, it was like he'd been electrocuted. When Craig lifted his head, Bounce was in a rigid salute, chest heaving under his ill-fitting chestplate.
Lucky's bitter laugh broke the beat of silence. He was sitting on the floor, head tilted against the wall, but he did still have the presence of mind to salute Wolffe.
"Who's supposed to be on Kamino?" Wolffe asked calmly.
"This is Bounce," Craig said, standing as well.
"Bounce?" Lucky blinked and dropped his arm. "Crawl said he didn't have a name."
"Cadet name," Bounce whispered, never dropping his salute.
Wolffe gave a pause. Craig knew Boost had told Wolffe before about his batchmates, including that it had been decided after Geonosis that Bounce's smaller size made him less effective in combat, and he'd been permanently reassigned to maintenance on Kamino. So what in the world was he doing…
"Bounce," Craig said slowly.
"Crawl," his batchmate corrected. "Please, Craig… Crawl."
"Okay… Crawl," Craig said slowly. "What are you doing here, little brother? I didn't know you'd joined one of the battalions."
"...you were busy."
"Or why your battalion consists of clones missing limbs," Craig went on.
"And blind and asthmatic clones," Lucky said, then coughed.
"Blind?" Wolffe repeated gravely.
Lucky drew back, as if Wolffe's anger was directed at him. "Yes, sir. Fog's blind, but he's one whiz of a technician. Or… he was."
Crawl shuddered. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing," Lucky said. "He knew what he was getting into."
"Which was?" Wolffe asked.
"Our mission was to clear out the battle droids that had suddenly moved here a couple days ago, sir," Lucky said. "The mission was already going to you, but we got reports of Seperatist activity the day before."
"And we were never told because…?" Wolffe asked.
Lucky straightened, again mistaking that Wolffe's anger was directed at him. "It is like I said before, sir. We were sent here to die."
"Lucky, stop," Crawl pleaded.
"It's the same as the last dozen missions, Crawl," Lucky said, shaking his head in exasperation. "Captain Tiven knew some of us would die. I bet he knew about the commando droids somehow."
"That's some serious accusations," Boost said.
Lucky shrugged a shoulder. "That's how we operate. We're the unnumbered battalion. Fodder battalion."
Craig tried to sort out which part to be more offended over. That the battalion consisted of defective clones, that their captain knowingly sent them on suicide missions, or that the battalion had such a horrible name.
"General Plo will sort this out," Wolffe said, turning away.
"Kriff," Lucky muttered.
"Why do you keep saying that?" Boost asked.
"Shoulda let the commando droid take me," Lucky said.
Crawl shook his head. "No, Lucky! You're a good fighter, and loyal. You'll be safe."
"Safe from what?" Craig asked, exasperated.
"Decommissioning."
Wolffe spun on his heel. Lucky and Crawl flinched.
"Nobody is being decommissioned," Wolffe said angrily. "Least of all the squad that saved Wolfpack from being ambushed by Seppies."
Lucky blinked slowly, then slumped back with a relieved laugh that broke into a cough. Crawl remained painfully silent.
"Bo- Crawl," Craig said. "Look at me."
Crawl's helmet turned toward him. Craig removed his helmet, moving slowly to keep from startling Crawl further. The haunted eyes underneath were worse than Crawl's silence, however.
"Can we settle this later, Commander?" Craig requested.
Wolffe gave a terse nod.
"Okay, let's get out of here, little brother," Craig said.
It took Crawl a few seconds to acknowledge Craig's outstretched hand, but he took it and stepped forward.
And promptly fell.
Craig caught Crawl by his elbows, hurriedly shifting his stance to support his brother. Crawl's feet fumbled uselessly before he again collapsed. Craig caught his full weight and tried to see if Crawl was injured. But with the bad lighting, Craig couldn't tell how much of the blood on Crawl's lower half was his own or Faceplant's.
"Okay, Crawl, let's try something different. Boost, give us a hand."
While Boost supported Crawl, Craig turned. The pair got Crawl draped across Craig's back. Crawl's head fell limply between Craig's shoulder and head with a mumbled thanks. Craig easily straightened, wondering if Crawl had always been so light.
Boost and Wolffe knelt to carefully lift Faceplant's body, while Harper lent Lucky his shoulder. The solemn group made their slow way outside.
By the time the generals arrived, the injured clones had been tended to and settled against the treeline. A search had found a sizable gash on the back of Crawl's leg. Lucky didn't have any major injuries, but it took him some time to regain his breath. Longshot woke briefly in confusion before falling back into unconsciousness.
Craig watched their back-up rappel down. Between the trees and massive satellite, there wasn't any landing room for the gunship.
Tint, the paint covering the front of his helmet a few shades lighter than Wolfpack's, was the first to touch down. He went immediately to Longshot and got to work.
Wolffe intercepted the generals when they landed, for which Craig was grateful. Crawl had begun shaking when the Jedi had come into view.
"It's okay, little brother," Craig told him.
"Is it?" Lucky asked from where he sat at Craig's side. "The captain always told us that if we were found by a whole squad… well, he said we'd be decommissioned."
"What does it matter if the squad who found you is complete or not?" Craig asked.
"Not that kind of whole. Whole as in…" Lucky gestured vaguely at Craig's body, "You know, your body works properly."
"I see… but how could he get you decommissioned for following orders?"
"Nobody knows what we're doing, or that Captain Tiven put together a battalion of clones to use as cannon fodder. Nobody would have allowed that." Lucky shrugged. "Without official records, all Captain Tiven has to do is say that he sent us out to do some sort of maintenance, then we deserted. The most he could get in trouble for would be neglecting to report that clones were missing."
"The worst thing that can happen out of this is that you're not being sent out to die anymore," Boost said, shaking with emotion.
While they'd waited, Lucky had explained more about their battalion. They were comprised of clones who couldn't pass the final tests, had been sent out of the battlefields to keep them safe from things like Lucky's bad lungs or Faceplant's clumsiness, or had become reassigned to Kamino after severe injuries.
The men still wanted to fight the Separatists, though. That's what they'd been made to do, after all. Someone, somewhere had decided to give the defective clones their chance.
By sending them on suicide missions.
Lucky had explained that most of their missions consisted of throwing themselves at the enemy for the sake of distracting the droids from the actual attack force. Their entire squad was almost entirely wiped out every time.
The worst part was that nobody had noticed. The unnumbered battalion would usually approach from a distance, taking their stand on previous battlegrounds. When they fell, it was among clones from a previous fight. Because when a battle ended, generals counted the living, not the dead that were buried.
Any survivors of the unnumbered battalion slipped away as quietly as they'd come. New fighters were chosen to replace fallen brothers, and the missions went on.
Craig turned his eyes to the mounds alongside the cliff. Wolfpack had been burying the dead, leaving them to rest on their final battleground.
Lucky named each one as they were buried. Because their helmets had no discerning marks -the unnumbered battalion hadn't been allowed any sort of individuality with their armor, Lucky had revealed- names were carved onto sticks and tied to the sticks holding the troopers' helmets.
Nah, their pilot who used a hook or plastoid arm in place of his missing right arm. Fog, the blind technician so excited to be on his first mission. Wave, who used his loud voice and expressive hand signals to make up for being half deaf. Blaster, the team medic who'd used the last of the medical supplies on Longshot before succumbing to internal bleeding.
The names went on. Craig couldn't believe this atrocity had been allowed to go on for so long. He wished for the dozenth time that he'd taken more time to check on Crawl, whose shivering frame and nervous eyes were a far cry from the bright, bubbly brother Craig had grown up with.
Craig dragged himself back to the present when Tint approached. Someone must have warned him that Crawl was jumpy, because he moved in a slow, measured way.
"I'm Tint," he told Crawl with a softness that didn't come easily to many clones. "I need to check your leg."
Crawl's head bobbed slowly. He stretched his leg out, and Tint quickly and efficiently checked it.
"Nice, where'd this come from?" Tint asked as he dug through his medkit.
"Vibroblade," Crawl mumbled.
"Well, lucky you, it missed all major tendons. Just don't try to stand on it until it's healed."
Remembering Crawl's insistent salute, Craig said, "Little too late for that."
"I figured as much," Tint said cheerfully. "But a night in the bacta tank, and he'll be right as rain."
Wolffe approached the group. "The generals want to hear the full story from one of you."
Lucky raised his hand slightly. "I've got this."
"Has Tint checked you out?"
"I didn't get hurt too bad," Lucky said. "Crawl's the one who tackled the commando droid."
Craig, Boost, and Tint looked at Crawl, who hunched his shoulders.
Wolffe cleared his throat, covering a flash of bemusement in his eyes. "Very well. Come on, Lucky."
Lucky got to his feet and followed Wolffe to the generals, who had been joined by General Faun's captain. Captain Poet turned and went to Tint's side.
"We should get Crawl and Longshot onto the cruiser," Tint told Poet. "Both are going to need bacta tanks."
Poet nodded. "I'll tell Whistler and Bee to get the baskets ready, and we can move them once General Faun is ready."
"I'm ready now."
Even General Faun's men jumped at her voice. The furred, delicate Perdot Jedi had approached without a sound. She gave them all a gentle smile, her cup-shaped ears flicking to attention as she knelt before Crawl.
"How do you feel?" General Faun asked in her pleasantly lilting voice.
"F-fine, General," Crawl mumbled.
"I somehow doubt that," Tint said with a chuckle.
Crawl darted a sheepish grin at them. Craig was relieved to feel Crawl relaxing under General Faun's calming presence.
"Is he ready to be moved?" General Faun asked Tint.
Tint nodded. "The sooner he gets inside, the better."
Craig shifted Crawl a bit, getting ready to stand. "There's a clearing a little ways down the trail. There will be room for the baskets there."
"No need," General Faun said.
General Faun stood and went to the nearest tree. She put one cloven hand on the trunk, and raised the other over her head. She closed her eyes.
For a second, nothing happened. But then Faun waved her upraised hand. The branches overhead stirred in a nonexistent breeze, then politely pulled to the side. The resulting gap was big enough for a basket to lower from the gunship.
"Let's go, gentlemen," General Faun said, opening her eyes to smile.
The next day…
"Crawl, you're up!"
It was still a bit strange to call his batchmate by a different name, but Craig was getting used to it. And relief at seeing Crawl standing again outweighed the sadness of Crawl leaving his old name behind.
Crawl smiled at Craig. He was leaning a bit on Boost near one of the windows overlooking Kamino's vast ocean. Tint was nearby, supporting Longshot.
"What did the commander say?" Boost asked.
"About what?" Crawl asked a bit suspiciously.
Craig slumped. "Well, Boost and I are already together in a squad… we kind of wanted you to join us."
Crawl shook his head. "You know I'm too small, Craig."
"That's what Wolffe said," Craig said with a sigh.
Boost raised an eyebrow. "Crawl passed all the tests."
"With your help," Crawl said with a slight smile. "It's okay, Boost. I'm fine with maintenance…"
"Sure you are," Longshot said sarcastically. "That's why you kept going on those suicide missions."
"You're one to talk, Longshot," Crawl returned good-naturedly.
"Eh, I needed the practice," Longshot said.
"Guys!"
A shout made everyone turn. Lucky was walking toward them with another clone, who ran up to Longshot.
"Lucky told me what happened!" the clone said. "I should have been there with you! But I got turned around and by the time I found the hangar, you were-"
"It's okay," Longshot interrupted with a snort. "It's not the first time you got lost. On Kamino."
"What?" dead-panned Craig, Boost, and Tint in sync.
"Meet our navigator: East," Longshot said.
"I'm getting better," East said with a sheepish grin.
"At getting lost," Crawl returned.
Craig smiled, watching East give Crawl a mock-offended look. It was good to see his little brother smile again.
"Listen, guys," Lucky said as he joined them. "I don't think we're going back to maintenance. Not even you, Crawl."
The three batchmates exchanged glances. Wolffe had already said Crawl wouldn't fit in with Wolfpack, so how…?
"We're joining the 107th!" Lucky announced.
"But I can't-" Crawl started.
Lucky held up a hand. "You fight as well as the rest of our brothers. You're just a bit slower than them; same as me."
Lucky went on, "General Faun's battalion doesn't see much combat. She mainly does negotiation for new alliances and the like. We'd be on guard duty, really."
"But we'd still be serving," Crawl said with an excited gleam in his eyes.
"Guard duty?" Longshot said with a hint of disappointment.
Lucky shrugged. "You can ask for a battalion with more action. Your aim's a lot better nowadays."
East grinned. "Hey, I saw the 212nd arrive when I was looking for you. I've heard General Kenobi's a great general."
Longshot tilted his head. "The day I serve under a famous Jedi like that is the same day that you'll find the mess hall in time for lunch."
"I did yesterday, so you'd better start packing," East said smugly.
"Uh-huh. On purpose?" Longshot asked.
"...no, but it still counts."
"What's the worst that could happen?" Crawl asked with a grin. "Yesterday, we thought we were going to die. Can't get much worse."
Longshot dropped his eyes halfway shut. "I suppose I should just walk up to Commander Cody and ask to join his battalion on their next mission, then?"
"You might be surprised by his answer."
Again, everyone jumped at General Faun's voice. Craig knew Jedi could be stealthy, but General Faun took it to a whole new level!
"General!" Craig said, saluting with everyone else.
"Please, at ease," General Faun said. "Did Lucky tell the three of you my offer?"
The unnumbered battalion clones nodded.
"Lucky and Crawl have limited options," General Faun said regretfully. "But Longshot and East, know that any battalion would be lucky to have you serve under them."
Longshot's expression turned thoughtful. East looked sheepish, but that seemed to be his default expression. Lucky nodded contentedly, and Crawl turned an uncertain gaze to Boost and Craig.
"The 107th often goes on missions with the 104th," Craig offered. "We'd still see each other."
"It's not just that. It's just…" Crawl looked nervously at General Faun. "Are… are you sure you want me, General?"
"Yes," General Faun said with the absolute surety only a Jedi could pull off.
Crawl's smile returned. He drew himself up and saluted the general.
"General Faun, it would be an honor to serve under you."
A/N: I don't think clones would have much choice as to which battalion they served in, but who knows with Jedi? Besides, General Faun and her battalion are known for being a bit quirky. (Perdots, btw, are my made-up, deer-like race.)
Crawl has the most fully-fledged story of these OCs. If you haven't read it and are interested in more about him, Two Taps takes place about eight months after this story. He's also present in most of my other Clone Wars stories, and he'll be playing a major role in the upcoming Bad Batch fic, Edge of the Night. If you want to know more about any of the other OCs, just ask!