Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of any copyright holder. Mando'a, Huttese, and any other Star Wars language belongs to LucasArts and other holders, if there are. Characters belong to their respective owners.
Quick list of Squad Members:
RC-3192 Beten
RC-7177 E'tad
RC-2405 Mute
RC-5163 Toss
Warnings: As per most of my stories, expect to read much suggestive and/or contraversial material, including but not limited to: sexual themes, excessive cursing, violence, drug use/addiction/dependency, hints of PTSD, mental-health related issues, homosexual implications, and violence. If this bothers you in any way, shape, or form, or if you are a minor (aka, under-aged), there is a button at the top of your screen that says BACK. I suggest you use it. Thank you.
Republic Assault Ship Auspicious, Hangar Deck,
428 days after Geonosis
Commander Aasa was giving a rousing speech. E'tad could tell, from the way his trooper brothers tensed and paid the utmost attention to the red-skinned near-human on the elevated platform above them. And from the way she moved, perhaps it was rousing in different ways. Zeltron were known for releasing pheromones to subtly entice or manipulate their audience, after all.
But he didn't know for sure—he couldn't hear the speech over the conversation his newly re-formed squad was having. That, and his armor's advanced filtration system likely kept out any unneeded pheromones from contaminating him.
"So let's clear the air." Bha'lir Squad's Leader, Beten, spoke with a smooth voice—the kind E'tad linked with smugglers who had various females tripping over themselves for in cantinas across the galaxy. "What do you do in your free time?"
"Girls," spoke Mute in his subtly ragged voice.
"Sabacc," said Toss, oozing positivity with one word.
"Girls," echoed Beten.
E'tad bristled. Was he the only sensible one here? "Wishing I could hear the Jedi Commander."
Beten chuckled. The irritating, smug grin E'tad knew was plastered to the chakaar's face leaked into his voice. "Lighten up, ner vod. Zeltron can sense emotions, even through the armor. Think happy thoughts or she'll really notice her hormone hocus-pocus isn't getting to us."
"They got to you last night, vod." Toss laughed.
E'tad attempted to rein in his horror with thoughts of the things he loved best—heavy weapons. He began to list the separate parts of a Reciprocating Quad Blaster, more commonly known as the Cip-Quad. He mentally took apart the weapon, and then pieced it back together with small, additional experimental modifications to the built-in microrepulsorlifts. If he adjusted the powercell, perhaps it could fire more rounds per second…
"The Commander? Seriously?"
"Well, I don't like to brag…"
"Yes he does. Don't let his hair fool you."
"...What?"
"Huh?"
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"It's red."
"…Your's is orange."
"So?"
"So you're one to t—"
"Heads up. Commander incoming."
E'tad snapped to attention as the Zeltron Jedi reared around the troopers and came to a stop in front of him and his three brothers. She lacked the bulky robes of most Jedi, instead she wore tight trousers and what looked like half a shirt—highly impractical, he decided. Her black hair hung in braids down to her shapely hips, and her face was perfectly symmetrical. From afar, he could tell she was what most species would qualify as beautiful. But up close…he was suddenly acutely aware of her proximity and his own rapidly increased discomfort.
"RC-3192." Commander Aasa spoke with a pleasing lilt to her voice that seemed to demand E'tad's absolute attention. But she wasn't talking to him. "A word, if you please."
"Yes, Commander." The squad leader's helmet's outbound speakers failed to filter out the charm.
E'tad watched the two of them walk off to the side. The Commander stopped, too close to Beten to have been deemed proper by regulations standards. Beten's helmet remained on, though his head was bowed slightly and nodded every few moments as if he were speaking or agreeing with her. E'tad couldn't tell.
For a moment he felt strange, but the longer he prodded the emotion, the faster he realized what it was that bothered him—he was jealous. E'tad crushed the thought and turned his back to the two, though he kept an eye on them anyway via the 360° panoramic view his helmet's Heads-Up Display offered.
With a few blinks, E'tad opened a private channel between him and his real brother, though he would never express such thoughts out loud.
"What kind of leader is this shabuir?" E'tad blurted.
"Besom," Mute replied. "With a lot of gett'se?"
"I don't like him."
His brother's long, heavy sigh was the only response he received.
Bha'lir Squad's private comm channel, shared between the four of them, flashed. E'tad switched back over in time to hear Beten's cocky chuckle. "I think she has a thing for me vode."
The nerve… E'tad thought bitterly. To say such a thing while he was still speaking with the Commander!
"So?" Mute asked.
"So we need to ship out of here, and fast," Toss replied.
Beten saluted the Commander and returned to his squad, outwardly displaying no change in behavior. But somehow, somehow, E'tad knew there was a stupid, self-satisfied smirk on Squad Leader's face.
"What?" E'tad tried and failed to keep the irritation from his voice.
"Why?" Mute asked. He sounded amused, but E'tad could read the bewilderment in his brother's stance.
"Nothing serious," Beten replied smoothly, and then clapped E'tad amiably on the shoulder as he walked past. E'tad barely quashed the urge to rip off the leader's helmet and smack him in the face. "Just hoping our next assignment will be on the other side of the galaxy."
"Yeah," said Toss as he strolled shoulder-to-shoulder with Beten, leaving behind E'tad and his real brother. "Better start packing."
E'tad's hand twitched. He crushed the impulse to pull out his DC-17m, with anti-armor attachment, and blow new holes into 3192 and 5163's armored backs. He then briefly debated shutting off all comm channels and cursing his throat raw within the safe confines of his helmet, but soon dismissed that plan as well.
The ill-mannered shabuir was going to get them all killed. He just knew it.
