16

Star Wars

Rho 108

Episode 1

Birth of a Soldier

My name is Jango Fett. Or it would be, if I had been born with a name. My designation is Rho 108. Jango Fett is, or was, in essence my father. I am a clone in the Republic army. I'm sorry, the Imperial army. I and all of my brothers serve the emperor now. I was one of the lucky ones. I was a pilot, much more valuable than the more mass produced foot soldiers. I watched as they became storm troopers, living only to die for someone else's will on the soil of some foreign planet, while I flew alongside Darth Vader and later trained cadets at the Carrida academy. Order 66 was the best thing to happen to us.

I've skipped ahead too far though. I'll start at the beginning, my birth, and continue through to the end of the battle of Geonosis. My story is much longer than that, but it is all I can tell you, for now. But, as you listen, take note and take heed. I was the best pilot of my generation, bred to be emotionless and perfect, and still I fear the horrors of war.

I stirred within the glass "womb" I had lived in for the past four and a half months, now ready to meet the world thanks to the growth accelerators in my genetic code. I opened my eyes and took in the sterile environments that would be my home until I went to war. I turned my gaze to a cluster of Kaminoans, their bodies and limbs stretched to freakish proportions. And I saw my brothers, laying in cribs, bundled up and being fed vitamin supplements through intravenous tubes. I pressed my hand against the glass and a Kaminoan noticed my movements and walked over to watch me. She smiled at me and pressed her hand up against the glass in front of mine. She turned and motioned at another Kaminoan, and the "womb" emptied, leaving me wet and cold. And then, my prison opened and I was in the arms of the Kaminoan female, being bundled up and placed in a crib like my brothers. I held out my hands for the Kaminoan to hold me, but she was reaching for an IV tube and a needle. I cried as she stuck the needle in my arm, but I soon fell asleep, shock and exhaustion claiming me.

When I woke up I was taken away from my brothers and placed in an entirely different room. This one was not the sterile white of the birth chamber, but the walls were a soft yellow and model ships were held in midair by suspensor units. The same Kaminoan that had held me earlier was there, as well as ten of my brothers I had seen in the chamber.

In her left hand the Kaminoan held a large ship, triangular in shape and topped by a bristling sensor array. In her right she held a smaller ship with stubby wings and turrets mounted all over it.

"You are all Rho, the pilot caste, the ones who shuttle their brothers to and from battle, who insure their survival by moving them quickly. Some of you who show exceptional leadership will command massive Assault Cruisers," she waved her left hand, "carrying thousands of troops and machines through space to a planet under siege. Those who show the most skill at combat piloting will fly the LAAT/i Gunship," at this she moved her right hand, "and the LAAT/c Transport."

I rolled over and reached out for one of the LAAT/i figures, but the Kaminoan saw me and moved it out of my reach.

"Looks like Ten-eight already knows what he wants to pilot."

Happy chortles greeted her joke, and I couldn't help but do it too. I knew that I was going to fly a Gunship.

"Little ones, this is your first day. From now on, things will not be easy. Every day will be filled with training and simulations. You will have no breaks. We are breeding soldiers, and a good soldier is one that can persevere over what seem to be impossible odds. Good night little ones, and sweet dreams."

I eased the throttle of the LAAT/i and descended, landing gently on the rolling grasses of the plains. The Gunship rocked slightly as the troopers I was transporting disembarked and set up a perimeter around the LZ. I fed power to the vertical thrusters and took off again, but a shrill whine made me turn my head. What I saw I will remember forever. An artillery round landed where the Gunship had been, cratering the earth and sending the troopers flying. I saw pieces of armor lying on the ground, and I knew that they were dead. I screamed.

I stopped screaming the instant the power feed to the simulation was cut off, but several Kaminoans still put me on a stretcher and carried me off to the infirmary. My eye twitched sometimes, and the Kaminoans looked at me worriedly. I knew that something was wrong with me.

When I arrived at the infirmary, they lifted me off the stretcher and placed me on a bed. I sat there, wondering how they could do this to someone as young as I was. I looked down at my hands, so small compared to my caretakers', and I felt something warm roll down my cheek and land on my palm. I wiped my hand on my pants and bit my lip when I heard more Kaminoans coming in. I looked up at them and saw they were carrying one of my brothers, who was sporting a black eye and a bloody nose. I smiled at him as he sat on his bed, but he didn't even look at me. I tried to get a conversation started, so I introduced myself.

"Hi. I'm Rho ten-eight. Who are you?"

He just sat there, looking down at the bed, like he couldn't talk.

"You got pretty messed up there. Get in a fight?"

He looked up at me and smiled at me. He wiped away some of the blood and said, "Yeah, Sergeant Vau and I were doing melee training."

My jaw dropped. Walon Vau was one of the greatest soldiers ever, a Mandalorian super commando.

"If you were against Walon Vau, it's no wonder you look like that. You're lucky to be alive!"

His smile widened and he shook his head.

"If you think this is bad, wait until you see how I broke his arm."

We both broke out laughing and it took us a while to stop. He finally introduced himself as Delta Three-eight, the future leader of a four-man commando team. He told me about his squad mates: Delta 07, or Sev, was the best hunter of all the Deltas; Delta 40, Fixer, a genius with electronics and a master slicer: and Delta 62, Scorch, a demolitions expert and responsible for many a singed eyebrow, hence the name. He told me about the Delta program and how they contained the most highly trained soldiers in the army. I was filled with thoughts of grandeur as a pilot for them, and he seemed to know what I was thinking.

"We will need some pilots, but we only take the best. It's usually imperative that we get to our destination safely to carry out our objective."

I nodded my head and puffed out my chest.

"I am the best pilot there is. I can fly a LAAT/i so smoothly that a rocket could hit it and you wouldn't feel a thing."

38 shook his head at me and snickered, but then he looked at me seriously.

"You don't have any marks on you. Why are you in here, anyway?"

I looked down at my feet and he must have understood what was wrong.

"Oh, simulation shock. Don't worry, everybody has those moments, you'll get over it eventually. It's horrible seeing soldiers you were just talking to die, isn't it?"

"Yes. If it's that bad in a simulation, I don't want to know what it would be like in a real war."

"Don't worry Ten-eight. We're Deltas, and we're hard to kill."

"Ten-eight, this is Three-eight. Objective secure."

I quickly scanned the readout display in the LAAT/i cockpit as I turned toward the rendezvous point.

"Affirmative Three-eight. Set a beacon and I'll pick you up."

A flash appeared on the display and I homed in on it. Less than two minutes later I was over the beacon and I lowered the Gunship as low as I could without touching the ground. It rocked slightly as Delta squad boarded.

"Ahhh, another day, another win for the Deltas."

"You got that right Sev, ya psycho."

"Hey, don't get mad at me for the fact that I have more kills than you, Scorch."

I laughed and pushed the throttle forward, clearing the dense cloud cover a few minutes later. I flew and talked for a few minutes before I reached the Republic base, and I slowed the Gunship and landed it without a single problem. I unstrapped myself and climbed out of the pilot seat, which ended the simulation. Sergeant Vau was standing a few feet away with a grimace on his scarred face.

"Ten-eight, I need to talk to you."

I saluted and followed him as he walked toward a small door at the rear of the Simulator chamber. On the outside I looked calm and focused, but inside I was a wreck. Was I being reassigned to fly the basic troopers around? Was I going to wash out, be dismissed from the army and never fly again? All these things bubbled at the top of my mind until we entered a room with dozens of my brothers gathered around a hologram projector table set into the floor. Some wore the bone white armor of ground pounders, but blues, reds and golds lined their armor, markings of rank, Lieutenants, Captains and Commanders, respectively. Others stood in neatly pressed uniforms and had their hands pressed behind their backs. Each one was the commander of an assault cruiser, and they were all of the Rho caste.

"Ten-eight, it's good to see you."

I turned at the sound of the voice and found myself face to face with Admiral Renard, otherwise known as Rho 64.

"Admiral, it has been a long time hasn't it?"

We shook hands and he informed me of why Sergeant Vau had led me here.

"We received a call from the Republic a few minutes ago. They say that there are hundreds of Jedi on a planet called Geonosis, and they fear that they won't survive if the Separatist leader Count Dooku is able to take command of the droids manufactured there. So, it's our job to pull the force users' proverbial fat out of the fire."

I smiled at him and brushed at the front of my simulation tunic.

"And what, exactly, would you like me to do, Admiral?"

"I would like you to pilot a gunship carrying ten ARC troopers and deliver them to a certain objective, Commander."

I felt my heart skip a beat and resume pumping. ARC troopers, or Advanced Recon Commandos, were even more renowned than the Delta commando teams, known for their skill in tense combat situations. And this was the kicker: they were trained by Jango Fett himself. I was so excited about that that I hadn't realized what he had called me. Commander. Then the full force of it hit me. I would be given a name, as per tradition. When a clone reached a certain rank, he was given a name to set himself apart from all the others under him. In seconds I had gone from a lower rank designate to an ARC shuttling higher up officer.

I snapped off a crisp salute and clicked my heels together.

"Thank you Admiral, sir. It will be an honor."

Renard returned the salute and turned to a trooper in green lined armor, a Sergeant and motioned him over. He leaned towards the Sergeant and whispered something in his ear. He stood up again and the Sergeant saluted and jogged off. Renard still had his back to me when he spoke again.

"So, have you decided on a name yet, Commander?"

I racked my brain for several seconds before I decided on the perfect name.

"Gabriel, sir. That is the name I choose."

He turned to me and a small smile wrinkled his face, but it was quickly gone.

"And your call sign?"

"ARC-Angel, sir."

He chuckled at the play on words for a few seconds before he held out his hand, which I shook.

"Well Commander Gabriel, here comes your new equipment, and your squad."

I let go of his hand and turned around. What I saw amazed me. Clones, but wearing armor different from what I had seen before. Green was painted all over their armor, except for two, one wearing blue streaks and the other who wore red markings. What looked like some kind of primitive tribal covering was draped over the shoulders of each one, and a robe bottom extended to their shins. They looked demonic, and I knew why they were more revered than the Deltas. The red armored ARC trooper addressed me with the mikes set into his helmet.

"So, you're our new pilot, eh? Kind of scrawny, but that's how most of your caste are."

I glared at him, but I calmed myself before I had the chance to lash out and strike him for insubordination.

"Alright then, Captain, but don't cry to me when I run off and leave you when you call for an evac."

He tilted his head and laughed, but it was one where I knew it was not meant to be condescending.

"You know, you're not half bad."

He walked over and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Welcome to the ARC troopers, mate! You're gonna love it."

"ARC-Angel, this is Slingshot, we are above Geonosis now. Tell those troopers to strap in and prepare for drop."

I forwarded the message to the ARC troopers in the troop hold and a string of low voiced curses came back, but they were cut off quickly.

"Forget that, Slingshot. If we can't go in feet first we don't go."

"Affirmative, Oh-one."

Red lights flashed on in the cockpit as an alarm sounded in my helmet. A calm voice counted down the seconds until the LAAT/i would be shot from the belly of the Republic Assault Ship Red Aifer like a blast from a DC-15 rifle.

"Atmospheric drop in ten, nine, eight…"

My knuckles went completely white from gripping the controls so hard as the countdown reached five, and my hands went numb at two. At one I felt the world drop out from under me and then we were falling straight for the surface of Geonosis.

"Pilot! How far away are we from the drop point?"

"Twenty clicks southeast, Oh-one. We'll be there when we get there."

"Twenty clicks? I can't wait that long!"

"Calm down, Captain, we're already through a quarter of it."

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, until I opened the troop bay doors that were on the left and right sides of the LAAT/i. Wind shrieked through the troop hold and into the open door of the cockpit, whipping sand on my visor and scratching it. A hologram indicating my current position started flashing and I keyed my mike.

"Alright troopers, we're approaching the LZ. Captain Oh-one, take Omegas Oh-three through Oh-six and move to the objective. I'll take Lieutenant Oh-two and Omegas Oh-seven through ten."

"Affirmative, Commander. We'll see you when we're finished."

"I'll say Marco, Captain."

"I'll say Polo."

A rocket flew by the cockpit with a shriek like a banshee and it took every bit of will I had to keep from pulling back the stick and sealing all our fates. The Hailfire droid that seemed so intent on killing us for the past few minutes kept rolling behind us, unleashing volley after volley into the air, trying to bring us down. Both the turrets on the sides of the LAAT/i had been destroyed, along with the gunners, and there was currently no way to attack the droid without running the risk of getting blown up. I heard the whirring sound of a chaingun as it shot down some of the missiles, but the whirring suddenly died, and my co-pilot's voice sounded in my headset.

"ARC-Angel, we're out of chaingun ammo."

My world fell apart around me as a new volley of rockets smashed into the rear of the LAAT/I, spinning the craft completely around in midair. I scanned the flashing red and orange lights on the display panel and checked the altimeter. With only three hundred meters left before impact, I knew drastic measures would have to be taken. I fired the jets used to hover in order to counteract the spin the Gunship was in as well as slow the descent. As the spin lessened I looked out the cockpit and was horrified to see that the entire left wing was missing. I keyed the mike that lead to the troop hold of the Gunship and asked for a response if any of the ARC troopers were still alive.

"ARC-Angel, this is Lieutenant Oh-two. All ARC troopers present and accounted for."

"Thank god. Hold on, when we land it isn't going to be pretty."

"Affirmative ARC-Angel, ready and waiting."

I turned my focus back to the altimeter and gritted my teeth. The meters were flying by, and when I looked out of the cockpit I could see the ground rising up, as if to swallow us whole. I pulled back on the altitude adjuster flaps, using all my strength to control the vibrations running through the cables that attached them to the adjuster stick. I heard a snapping outside and felt the stick go lax in my hand. I had lost the adjusters.

That last thought passed through my mind a mere second before we slammed into the rocky ground.

I blacked out when my head slammed forward into the transparisteel bubble canopy. I'm not sure how long I was unconscious, but it must have been a while, because the next thing I remember was a hand on my shoulder shaking me awake. My eyes flickered open and I took in the armored face of Lieutenant Oh-two. We were outside, and it was somewhat darker than it had been earlier.

"We were all knocked out, Commander. We woke up before you though, and lucky for us we were practically at the door of our objective."

He pointed out a tall, spiraling structure that seemed to be made of the dust that completely covered the surface of this god forsaken planet.

"The spire was pretty easy to take, but the problem is we have no way of notifying the others that we completed the objective. Any ideas, ARC-Angel?"

I glanced over at the smoldering hulk of the LAAT/I and I nearly wept. It's devastating to lose something that beautiful, that incredible, especially when you were the one in command. A ditch stretched out almost two hundred meters behind it, and it was clearly evident that when we hit we skidded to a stop. Lucky for us, I thought, we didn't blow up on impact.

Then my mind began to work at a design for an improvised radio. I stood and stumbled over to the wreck and reached into the cockpit, pulling out mountains of essential wiring that was now useless to the Gunship and I pulled out the speaker mounted on the wall of the troop hold. I pulled off my helmet and attached the wires to the inset mike. I tuned it to the fleet channel and crossed my fingers as I sent my message.

"Fleet-Com, this ARC-Angel, reporting Beta objective secure. Status on Alpha mission unknown. Gunship Omega is down and inoperable. Evac needed at sector Epsilon-Theta-Omicron-Alpha-Lambda, as soon as possible."

Minutes ticked by as the speakers continued to emit their static buzz. I was about to unhook the device when a familiar voice came over the improvised Comm-link.

"ARC-Angel, this is Admiral Renard. We received your report. What are the casualties from the crash?"

"None, sir. It's a miracle."

"Yes, indeed it is. We have your coordinates and are rerouting a Gunship to pick you up. Last sit-rep puts him at two clicks southwest of your position. Oh, and there is someone here to talk to you."

A few seconds later a grizzled voice filtered through the speakers.

"Commander, is that you? It's good to hear from you again. Are you taking good care of my men?"

"Yes, Captain, although I think drinks are in order after we all get off planet."

"Affirmative, ARC-Angel. Oh-one, out."

I looked up at the darkening sky and a rapidly approaching shape took my interest. I could tell from the shape, even at such a distance, that it was the Evac Gunship. I stilled my beating heart as Lieutenant Oh-two ordered his men to get ready to leave, and my co-pilot stood beside me.

"Have you ever seen a more beautiful sight, ARC-Angel?"

I glanced over at him and noticed that he was holding his helmet in the crook of his right arm while mine was in the crook of his left, stripped of the added parts. I reached out and took it from him and put it on.

"No, Seraph. I never have."