Delta Squad: Forming Up
By Bass GSX
A.N. Hey, just a P.S.A--I'm changing my pen name to Dominus Princeps, so don't come looking under Bass GSX for me!
Chapter One: Raw Recruits
"Rise and shine, commandos! Welcome to the first day of training, the most beautiful day on this planet I've ever seen!" a rough, battle-scarred voice yelled. Delta Commando Designation Three-Eight shook himself awake at the harsh noise. He yawned and swung out of his bunk.
"Hurry and wash up, boys! You've got a looooong day ahead of you!" Vau almost laughed. His voice restrained the amusement of seeing the one-year-old clones stumble out of their containment bays and stagger over to showers. The one thing that kept him from bursting into fits of laughter at the new recruits was that they all looked exactly the same. It gave Vau chills, but nonetheless he gave the illusion that this was the place that he had wanted to be all his life. After waiting in line for several minutes, Three-Eight stepped into the sonic-shower, which quickly cleaned him off from the previous day. He stepped out and grabbed the basic clothing which rested in a long, neat rack outside of the showers. Three-Eight followed the arrows in the spotless white corridor all the way to a large room with several rows of computer consoles and VR headgear. Vau's voice blared over the oddly primitive loudspeakers.
"You are my commandos, and you will be the best! There are other commando groups, sure...Aurok, Bacta, Gamma, and Sigma, but you're mine, and that makes you the greatest of them all!" he yelled. Three-Eight rolled his eyes, but didn't reply. It would've only resulted in Vau reprimanding him.
"Enter command 144.22.006 into that console and follow the instructions, commandos!" was the sergeant's last order. Dutifully, each clone entered the code and waited for something to occur. Three-Eight felt the headgear hum and wondered what would happen next. Soon, the image of an angular, black thing appeared in front of him, rotating.
"This is your weapon, commando Three-Eight. The DC-17m Modular Rifle. It can be disassembled and reassembled with different functions depending on the attachments", a text box told him. The rifle was attached with a stocky barrel and a rectangular thing on its side.
"This is the standard configuration. This features fairly accurate automatic fire, and a forty shot magazine."
"The next configuration is the Sniper Rifle. Using the sniper attachment-" the stocky barrel was removed and the side clip with it, then replaced with a long, thing barrel and a small, thick clip to the side, "-this rifle is not suitable for close-range, obviously, and has a comparatively low rate of fire. That is made up for by extremely accurate firing, very powerful shots, and a useful, high-magnification digital scope."
"I like it already..." Three-Eight said to himself, his youthful features lit up by a grin. Nearby him, he heard a woop of glee.
"It blows stuff up? Cool!" a clone cheered. Three-Eight shook his head and focused again on the headset's display.
"-features a high-explosive anti-armor grenade launcher, which, while bulky and heavy, can be very dangerous in the right situation. Please stand by for further instruction..." the text box told him.
"Hey, I'm Six-Two. You're...Four-Seven, right?" the clone next to him asked, smiling.
"No, I'm Three-Eight. Nice to meet you, Six-Two", Three-Eight replied, correcting the energetic Six-Two.
"Oh. Sorry. Gee, this first day isn't too fun, huh? All it is is learning. I was hoping for combat training", Six-Two grumbled. Three-Eight chuckled.
"I guess we commandos need every piece of info we can get. I think this whole commando thing is really neat, though", he commented.
"Hey, I don't think we should be talking if Sergeant Vau didn't tell us to. He might make you guys do penalty stuff or something", a clone a little ways away from Three-Eight and Six-Two reprimanded.
"Oh, yeah? Well, who got blown up and left you in charge?" Six-Two challenged.
"I'm Four-Oh. And, seriously, clones, I don't think we should be talking!" Four-Oh snapped back.
"Aw, give it a rest, Four-Oh. It's not like Vau will make us-" another clone started.
"Alright, commandos! Let's head out to the calisthenics room and start our morning workout!" Vau's voice suddenly barked, making them all jump. They all leapt up and followed the blinking arrows down to the gymnasium orb. They could already tell it was going to be a long day.
ooo
Delta Commando Designation Oh-Seven scrambled up a rope and pulled himself up to the highest platform.
"Hah. I'm the first one up again", he grinned, surveying the rest of the sixty-nine clones that hadn't made it up. The next clone up waved at Oh-Seven.
"Hi. I'm Six-Two. You're...Five-Nine?" he panted.
"I'm Oh-Seven, you schutta", Oh-Seven growled.
"That was...my next guess", Six-Two huffed, sweat dripping from his face and soaking his clothing. Oh-Seven was sweating heavily, too, but he had decided to ignore that. Another three of the Delta commandos struggled up to the top. Six-Two greeted them as well.
"Hi! I'm Six-Two. And you are...Three-One?"
"I'm Three-Eight. We already met, Six-Two", Three-Eight snorted.
"Sorry. We all look alike", Six-Two grinned. He turned to another one.
"You must be Six-Four."
"I'm Oh-Three."
"Oh. I was close."
"No you weren't", Oh-Seven laughed.
"Was too!" Six-Two growled back. They glared at each other for a split second...then slapped their hands together, pulled back their fingers, then slammed their knuckles together.
"I think we'll be great friends, Oh-Seven!" Six-Two smiled.
"Well, we'd better be. We're all the same", Oh-Seven grinned back. Vau's voice cut their conversation short.
"Alright, commandos, report to the floor of the gym for today's lesson in hand-to-hand combat!" the sergeant yelled. Three-Eight smiled. He was liking this commando thing already.
ooo
Wham! Thud! Crack!
Three-Eight hit the dummy again and again with the three punch combination that Vau had just taught them. Wham! Thud! Crack! Wham! Thud! Crack!
"Hey—Wham-thud-crack—Four-Seven!" Six-Two cheerily called.
"Yes?" Four-Seven replied.
"Oh...you're Four-Seven? I thought it was that guy over there..." Six-Two muttered dejectedly.
"I'm Three-Eight, Six-Two", Three-Eight sighed.
"Oh, right. Hey—Wham-thud-crack—this is pretty fun, eh, Three-Eight?" Six-Two grinned.
"Yeah—wham-thud-crack—I like it a lot!" Three-Eight replied. Vau walked up to the raised platform in the center of the room.
"Very good, Deltas. I like what I'm seeing. Now, I need another volunteer", he called. Clones looked around at each other, waiting to see who it would be. Two hands shot up. Three-Eight struggled to remember who that other clone was. That isn't Four-Oh, is it? he wondered.
"Alright. Which one are you?" Vau shouted. Three-Eight blinked.
"Me, sir?" he asked.
"Yeah, grunt!"
"I'm Three-Eight, sergeant!" the clone replied.
"Nice to meet you, Three-Eight. Come on up!" Vau growled. Three-Eight jumped at the order and scrambled up to the ramp that led to the top of the platform. Vau faced him and crouched into a defensive stance.
"Alright, Three-Eight. Show me that you know the Mandalorian Trident", Vau grinned.
"The Manda—what, sir?"
"The combination I just showed you, grunt! Do it!" the sergeant barked. Three-Eight shrugged and assumed his stance. Wham-thud-crack! The sergeant blocked each blow. Acknowledging that, Three-Eight tried it again. Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh! Frustrated, the commando watched and felt each of his blows miss. Vau chuckled at him...and dropped his guard. Wham-thud-crrrrunch! Vau cried out and fell to a knee.
"Oh, space it all! Damned schutta! C-call for a doctor!" the sergeant hissed between his teeth. In horror, Three-Eight and nearly all the other clones stood in shock. One, however, saluted.
"Yes, sir!" he replied shakily. He ran off.
"S-sir...! Y-you alright?" Three-Eight asked, near tears. Vau looked up at him with a pained grin.
"Three-Eight...you broke my arm", he said.
"E-extremely s-sorry, sir, I-I didn't-" the clone stammered.
"Don't be. I let down my guard, and you took the opportunity. Excellent instincts, commando. Dismissed. All of you. Head back to your barracks", Vau commanded. They all saluted, then hurriedly dispersed. The clone who had left returned with a doctor.
"Here's the medical assistance, sir!"
"Thank you...?"
"I'm Four-Oh, sir!" Four-Oh saluted.
"Good work, Four-Oh. Dismissed."
ooo
"What in Malachor happened to your arm, Vau?" Jango snorted, gazing at the magnetic cast that held Vau's arm while the pair of Mandalorians ate their dinner.
"One of the clones. Three-Eight. I was watching him...he excels in close combat, at least, from what I've seen. He broke my damn arm today in training", Vau laughed. Jango smirked.
"They have a very good set of genes in them", he grinned. Vau raised his glass.
"Hear, hear", he replied, downing the juma in one gulp.
"Ha ha ha. Well, it sure pays the bills...you wouldn't believe how many credits I get for one single skin sample", Jango commented, sipping his glass of juma juice.
"I'm going to my barracks. See you tomorrow, Jango. Long live the Mandalore", Vau smirked.
"Yeah. Long live the Mandalore", Jango snickered as Vau left. He picked up his helmet.
"Boba, are you done polishing my armor?"
"Yeah, dad. Why?" his "son" replied.
"I checked the bounties earlier today...and we've got a job. Let's head for the Slave I", Jango told the boy. Boba smiled and opened the storage closet, showing the rest of the polished battle armor. Jango patted his "son's" head and suited up. Vau may be tired from his day...but my job's an all-nighter, if need be... Jango thought. He and Boba exited their apartment and headed for the docks.