This chapter is shorter than I would have liked… and it turned out very dark towards the end… just be prepared for that. quick notes.
Bantha herder/son of a gundark= insults.
Krayt dragon= kind of like a komodo dragon I guess… you might want to look it up.
Jettiise= a mandalorian word for Jedi. Insulting.
Contains references and spoilers for the season 2 episode 'brain invaders'. If you get confused message me and I'll explain what I can.
Pulsar had a cocky grin on his face as he pushed the engineer (gray haired and thin) to the back of the transport.
"You no good bantha herding son of a gundark! Why you've got another thing coming if you think your going to get away with this!" The old man cursed at him. His voice was wheezy and tired, though something about him reminded Pulsar of an over aged Krayt dragon.
The trooper couldn't hold back his laugh.
"Don't you laugh at me sonny. Why in my day I held the lightweight championship boxing title for fifteen year!" The old man looked defiant, shoving Pulsars hand off of his arm. "I can walk damn it! Mary, Jesus and Joseph didn't your mother ever teach you not to man handle your elders?"
"Didn't have one." Pulsar smirked at the look on the man's face and continued to guide him to the back of the trans.
"Didn't have a mother? Bull-shit!" he smacked the trooper's hand off of his shoulder once again, glaring.
"Nope no mother… wait… does my growth jar count?" his voice was snarkish making him grin all the wider.
"Jesus and Joseph don't get snippy with me sonny." The old man waved a fist at him imposingly. "Or I will show you how I held that championship! I may not be as fast as I used to but I can still wipe the floor with a cocky kid like you!"
Kid… huh… wasn't something he'd ever been called before… then again no one had called him 'sonny' before either.
Pulsar smirked once again, thoroughly enjoying himself, a bit too much to leave the old man with the other prisoners in the back.
He instead settled for pushing the trans driver into a seat and taking the open one next to him. Near the middle of the trans, far enough away from Fives, Kix and Gus for them not to hear them, close enough to the back and to the hostages for him to, technically, be helping Boil and Tup guard the others.
The old man scowled at him. "I told you not to man handle me sonny!"
"ya ya whatever you say gramps." Pulsar grinned behind his helmet, the entertainment too much to pass up.
"Don't call me gramps!" He looked indignant. "I got a name you know! Drake Washington Orville Traps ya over grown bucket wearin' baby!"
The smile slipped off of Pulsars face.
Trap…
His hands balled into fists and he gritted his teeth hard.
That damn jettiise killed Trap.
He had tried; oh he had truly tried at first to go back to being a good little clone, to following the rules and looking up to his superiors.
But no matter what he did every jettiise he saw made his flesh turn cold and his hands itch to feel their blood upon them.
People said the Jedi where good.
People said they where 'peace keepers'.
Pulsar knew that was a lie.
A 'peace keeper' would have found another way. A 'peace keeper' wouldn't have shoved their light saber through the chest of a man who wasn't even in control of his actions.
He knew how it stacked up. The Jedi where his superior officers and they demanded the highest level of respect. So he kept his feelings to himself, hiding them carefully from even his closest brothers in Tango Company. How Fives had seen through his walls he didn't even know, but he was glad he had.
Because it wasn't just about Trap anymore.
The worms. The medics had blamed it on the worms, said it made them all go crazy, said they messed around in their heads so much it scrambled their brains.
As it stood, six members of Tango Company had already been reconditioned, Ox and Edge among them, and Havoc's fate was still remained undecided after a potentially damning incident on Naboo.
And Scythe…
Suicide had been the only probably outcome in Scythes case, the guilt alone had been enough to drive him over the edge.
He brought the worms on board.
He infected the others.
He ordered the death of their pilots.
And sticking a blaster in his mouth was the only way he could see to make it up to them.
As it stood Pulsar was one of the only remaining troopers who had been infected. And that wasn't necessarily something he was proud of.
He had actually considered following Scythe for a wile, but something had kept it back. Every time he stared down at the viro'blade in his hands… every time he tried to turn his blaster towards himself…
Something had stoped him.
And he'd never been gladder for it than when Fives had approached him about this 'mission'.
A chance for redemption.
A chance to pay back the Jettiise for what had been taken from him.
For his lieutenant and for his Company.
He would do what was necessary.
"Are you listening to me, sonny?" The old mans shouts brought him back to reality, and somehow, it was no longer amusing. "What's wrong with you boy? Do I need to drill holes in that can of yours? Take it off before I take it off for you!"
Pulsar blinked for a moment staring at the trans driver as though he wasn't speaking basic.
"That's it!" The trooper had never been more shocked than when the old man grabbed hold of his helmet, yanking it off of his head before he had a chance to yell at him. "There!"
The two blinked at each other for a moment, and a long crease forming in the old mans brow as his eyebrows shot up.
"Mary, Jesus and Joseph you're younger than my son!"
"heh- more like your grandkids Pops." Pulsar grabbed his helmet back, slamming it on his head before standing from his seat, turning to look towards the back of the other hostages in the back of the trans.
Frek they SAW.
Pulsar knew the price of that, he knew what could happen to him- to all of them- to the plan- if the hostages where allowed to see their weakness.
The old fool didn't leave him any choice.
He would do what was necessary.
"Come on Gramps." Pulsar grabbed hold of the old mans arm, forcing him into a standing position before stepping back, cracking his knuckles.
The old man continued to look up at him in defiance, but there was a softness in his eyes now, a silent acceptance that some how, even though he'd never experienced anything like it before, Pulsar understood.
'You're younger than my son.'
The trooper couldn't explain the sudden swell of emotions in his chest, he couldn't define the heaviness of his limbs as he raised them.
He just muted his helmet so no one would hear him crying, and tried to keep his eyes clear enough to avoid hitting anything vital as he beat Drake Washington Orville Traps to a bruised and bloody mess.
Please review… and don't kill me ok? Gus' chapter is next… and a little more from Kix. The plot should begin a stronger forward momentum in the next chapter.