CT-1552 – Pirate Carrier
Dreamer kept his head on a swivel as he jogged through the halls with the rest of the team. Tank was leading up front, and the other troopers were doing a good job of providing all-around security. Dreamer had picked up the unenviable task of keeping an eye on the rear.
They'd encountered resistance all along the halls, but the pirates were no match for troopers who were better armed, better armored, and trained since birth. So far, Dreamer had counted twelve pirates that had fallen to the infiltrators.
At least the adrenaline was blocking out the headaches. For as much as he was hoping to get through the ship without further adversity, there were few things that blocked out pain quite as much as the stress of combat.
Luckily for them, Tank was practically the model of a clone captain. Fearless, wielding a pair of blasters, and quick to think on his feet, he was exactly the kind of leader to punch a six-man team through an entire carrier.
It helped that Dreamer had enough combat experience under his belt to be steady in combat, and the other two clones were serving well enough for fresh recruits. Corporal Gebb-Ti remained, of course, a solid combatant under fire. He'd be more uncertain about the team on the middle of a thickly-packed battlefield, but in tight confines and up against untrained pirates, he wasn't quite as worried.
Kurik, on the other hand, had remained a lingering presence at their backs. He could've begrudged the unnerving pilot his unwillingness to get directly into the mix with the rest of them, but at least he was remaining in a position where he wasn't a burden to them.
"You know your way around these kinds of ships, boy." Tank, on the other hand, hadn't been quite so eager to drag around a civilian, and his words had been harsh to make it clear. "Where are we headed next?"
"Usually, the control room wouldn't be too far from the reactor. We just passed it, so...left, I think."
After a dash to the end and a turn to the left, they ended up in a room that was tall, wide, and lined with enough consoles to clearly be somewhere of import. Unfortunately, a group of Gamorrean raiders were defending the room. The pot-bellied aliens were ready, manning a stationary weapon.
Dreamer grabbed Kurik and dragged him out of the way while the rest of the team dove away. One of them, a new recruit from Kamino, took a blaster bolt to the midsection regardless. He rolled to the floor, mercifully ending up behind a strut that concealed him from view.
It wasn't just the Gamorreans, either. A pair of shielded turrets had dropped from the ceiling, swiveling and trying to track the team. The whine of their fire was near to deafening, and the excited squeals of the alien raiders only served to make the din more confusing.
Corporal Geb-Ti already had a grenade palmed, and Dreamer knew what he had to do. He strafed out from behind his wall, firing all along the way while moving fast enough to be difficult to track by the turrets and the Gamorreans both.
The Bothan soldier used the quick diversion to toss his grenade, holding it for a moment before tossing it out.
The grenade detonated before it even hit the ground, a blast that sent Dreamer stumbling toward his the wall opposite the one he'd ran out from. His momentum caused him to crash into the wall clumsily, but he recovered quickly enough to get himself in position before the turrets found them again through the smoke.
Their captain switched targets from the shielded turrets to a vent to their left. He was forced back behind cover moments later as bolts rained down upon his position.
"Dreamer!" Tank's shout was coarse, stressed. "Dreamer, get a grenade in there!"
The clone trooper looked up at the vent dubiously. It would be an incredibly difficult throw, requiring him to get the object ten meters up and in a hole barely larger than he was in diameter. He palmed an explosive, eyes fixed on the vent.
He ran forward through a hail of blaster fire, thankfully remaining undamaged by the time he made it to the entrance of the room, allowing him an angle to throw from. The turrets both fired at him, tracking the sergeant specifically because he was so close.
He was provided some assistance by Tank, who popped out from behind his cover and put some fire down on the turrets. With their shielding, it did little, but they momentarily aimed for him instead of Dreamer.
With enough space and time to actually throw, Dreamer summoned up all the muscle he could muster, and he sent the explosive flying through the air.
The moment he let it go, he knew it wasn't going to get there. While he'd sent it far enough to reach the vent, the throw had gone right. He was forced right back around the strut, unable to do anything else to help the throw.
He turned to watch, hoping against hope that something would happen. Then, miraculously, the grenade appeared to simply hit some powerful airflow in mid-air, suddenly looping to the left and landing with a clatter in the vent.
Dreamer glanced backward to see the blind pilot behind a crate of spice, hand out and directed toward the vent. The young Miralukan withdrew his hand from the air, turned his head to the clone trooper, and gave him a nod.
Then the grenade exploded high above them, destroying the turrets next to the vent and allowing the clone troopers to pass. They stood from their positions, checked for enemies, then the captain turned to the sergeant.
"Nice throw, Dreamer," Tank said. "Don't know how we'd get through otherwise."
"Thank this one." Dreamer pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the pilot. "Seems like the general is rubbing off on him."
"Good, might as well do something useful." He looked at the monitors, then turned to another terminal to his left. "This the control room, boy?"
"It is," he replied. "At least, it looks like it. I'm not completely familiar with ships of this size. I'll try to find the controls."
"Not so fast," Tank said, looking down at their wounded soldier. "Raze, set up at the door. Dreamer, keep an eye on the pilot while he finds us our controls."
CT-1552 joined the young pilot, whose lips were turned downward into an irritated frown. He remained quiet about the escort, however, walking to each of the terminals and giving them a glance before moving on.
"It's strange, what you do," Dreamer said. "The seeing, I mean. I've seen blind Jedi utilize it before, but I've never seen someone without training simply do it."
"I once thought that maybe I was some sort of freak, some abnormality." He powered a screen on, shook his head, and moved on. "Half my old crew seemed to think so, Dilt among them, but they were happy with what I did, so they let it pass without much comment. But I've realized that I'm just...one of many who can do it, only those many tend to work exclusively with the Jedi."
"Are you thinking of going for training?"
"I doubt they'd take me. I'm too old, and I don't exactly fit the skills of a Jedi."
"I don't know. They're always happy to take pilots, what with this war on, and I'm sure you'd learn new skills quite easily. You're still young."
"Older than you, as it happens." Dreamer raised an eyebrow behind his helmet, expression unseen but his sudden turn clear enough. "Sorry, Sergeant. Didn't mean it like that. But you want to talk about strange, you look to be at least fifteen years my senior, but you're only...what? Five years old?"
"Four." Dreamer nodded to Tank. "That's one of the first, I'm willing to wager, he'd be near to eight. We've been told that age is meaningless to us, and I'm halfway to agreeing. Everyone else will live on for three or four times our lifespan."
"Why would you ever be happy about that?"
"I'm not anything about it. I was made for a purpose, and I fulfill that purpose. People like you and Dilt, you're wanderers. You have nothing to tie you down, but at the same time, you have nothing to strive toward. I've met several like you over my travels, and you always end the same way. With a starship of credits, but bitter and cold when you realize that for all your credits, you're empty and lacking in accomplishment."
"Better than practically being a servant."
They were interrupted by a cry, and the pair turned to look at the clone trooper on the ground as Tank attended to him. Raze knelt nearby, weapon aimed down the corridor they'd just emerged from. It was like being back on the battlefield, only with fewer people.
Dreamer turned back to Kurik.
"We all serve something, kid. Whether it's a higher purpose or your own whims and desires, we all have something that drives us to fight against the weary dredge of life. Some people don't fight it, others do, most land somewhere in the middle. But either way, I see purpose in my life. What about you?"
"I..." Kurik paused at the controls of a terminal, and Dreamer could easily tell that he wasn't looking at anything in particular. "You're surprisingly philosophical for a clone."
"Yes, well, I suppose I'm an outlier. I was often thought to have remained in the vats for too long."
"It's refreshing," the young man assured him, moving to another terminal and powering it on. "Most of your types are all business, all the time."
"Dreamer!" Tank shouted from his place at Fury's side. "Stop bothering the kid, cut the chit-chat!"
"See what I mean?"
"You got it, Captain." Dreamer clapped a hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Come on, we still have a ship to take over."
Fury was slow to get up, but the wounded clone still managed to stumble up to his feet, grab his weapon, and give the team a steadying and reassuring nod. A small ring of blood soaked into the bandages, but it was slow enough that he would likely be fine until they made it back to their ship.
This time, Kurik remained at the terminal, and eventually, he turned to the captain. "This is the one we're looking for!" he yelled. "Door controls, everything you need!"
"Let me on," Tank said, moving the kid aside and settling onto the terminal. "Hm, different from Separatist systems, but if I just...there we go."
Dreamer heard a series of thuds all over the ship, and once they finished, he looked down at the captain.
"We ready to move, sir?"
Tank didn't seem to hear him, pressing a few buttons and then shaking his head. "Dammit," he said. "Dammit, I was afraid this would happen."
"What happened, sir?"
"I locked down the doors on the outside, alright, but the doors also locked. Without some kind of passcode or way to hack through it, we're not going anywhere on our ship."
"We could always have General Durel or Commander Halai cut us out of here."
"Cut through a door with space on the other side?" Dreamer didn't answer. "Yeah, not an option."
"Looks like we'll have to figure something else out," Kurik said. "Is General Durel available, right now"
"This is no good," Tank muttered before turning to the transmitter on his arm. "This is bad, General. Shutting down the hatches has locked everything down, and I can't crack through it. What do we do?"
"We're almost at the bridge," he said. Dreamer could clearly hear blaster fire and the hum of a lightsaber on the other end. "We'll take the entire ship to the Hutts. If nothing else, they may be happy we provided them with some scrap. Plot a course from your position, you should be able to override the navigational computer. Then join us for the final push to the bridge."
"Yes, General."