Re-Assignment

Commander Tano

Chopper didn't have many interactions with Commander Tano other than practice. He had requested being one of the general's men. General Skywalker respected his men and worked them as hard as he worked himself.

Mostly it was Commander Tano who went to see the wounded or who would come to the mess and eat with the troopers, cracking silly jokes and laughing with them. She had defended Chopper in his court martial and had listened to his life but…

Chopper was glad he'd chosen the general's column. General Skywalker left a man alone.

What was a kid doing on the battlefield anyway? The Jedi shouldn't have sent her. What did he need with a kid and a female one at that? She'd probably shriek in horror if she saw his scars full on instead of hidden in the shadows. Or stare like some of the shinies did, so new to actual battle they hadn't considered being wounded like that. He was too much a trooper to joke, too dark-hearted to laugh. As for being wounded; he'd heal or he'd die. There weren't too many other choices.

What did he need with a fourteen year old commander who still wore youngling clothes?

She defended you in the court martial.

Ok, he owed her, but that didn't mean he had to show her his face. He tried not to show his face to anyone very much. Rex had put him with Coric's squad but after Teth, the squads were very small. Torrent Company itself was no larger than a line squad. Coric had Jig, Jesse and Chopper while Sergeant Zeer was in charge of Twelf, Luck and Hardcase. Kix, while not officially assigned to Coric, spent most of his time with his fellow medic and was often in the barracks with Coric's squad. Both Sergeants treated Chopper fairly, letting him take off-shift and not contributing much to barracks discussions, though Sergeant Zeer was a bit reserved. Jesse, Jig and Hardcase took their cues from their sergeants. Kix was a little reserved, but Chopper didn't mind that any more than he minded Zeer. Twelf and Luck, though… Chopper tended to avoid Twelf and Luck as much as he avoided the two squads that Commander Cody had given Captain Rex from the 212th.

Chopper tried to stay unnoticed. He volunteered for off-shifts and was quiet in the mess the few times he had joined Jesse or Coric. Mostly he preferred his table, back in the corner of the mess where he'd sit with one wall behind him and the scarred side of his face to the other wall. He'd been terrified the first time Commander Tano had walked from the door to his table; terrified that she would see the scars he had kept hidden when she had spoken to him before the court martial, terrified he'd see her disgust; terrified of her pity and her scorn. He remembered women's laughter.

He'd been postponing the routine courtesy call on the commander, not wanting to meet her, not wanting to introduce himself as though she didn't know every pain of his life. The first time she came into the mess hall, Chopper half-expected some remark about his lack of diligence and re-scheduling three times, but she had only said 'Hi' and introduced herself more formally than when she and Coric had come into the barracks.

As though she needed an introduction.

She had asked his name and he'd repeated his designation and, only after a pause, the name he'd chosen the first time he took a droid finger. He didn't want to get into trouble with the captain for being rude. He had kept his scars turned away from her view and his eyes down.

Commander Tano had looked at him curiously but didn't try to circle around him to get a better look at his scars and he appreciated that. Some of the rookies tried. She asked if he prefer using his designation or his name. He had stared down at the table thinking. He had chosen his name in anger and rage and hate and confusion; but it was the name he had chosen.

"Name, sir," he said after a while.

"You can call me Ahsoka when we're in here, all off-duty." She offered.

"No sir. It will be Commander Tano at all times."

She crossed her arms and frowned, looking about as ferocious as a ….a flower petal, as the down of a very small bird, as something utterly helpless and need protection. She wasn't, he'd seen her lead her column in one battle, so far. Her reputation among the troopers was she was competent and cared enough about them that no one was left behind when she was with a squad in their constant skirmishes on Christophsis.

"Why is that?" she asked. He wondered if she was simply being rhetorical but the question was there. He pulled on his helmet, slightly insulting to his superior officer. He didn't think she'd realize it and he certainly couldn't answer truthfully without it, couldn't turn to go to duty without hiding his face from her.

"It would be bad for morale to get into the habit of calling you by your name, but only some times." He looked at her through his helmet. She glared at him and he realized she knew he'd insulted her. "It would be even worse for us to think of you as Ahsoka on the battlefield. Permission to depart for duty?" Her forehead wrinkled in a frown as he waited for dismissal, his hands behind his back in parade rest.

She frowned, considering what he'd said, then looked at him through his helmet and a shiver ran down his spine. He felt as though she could see him. "Dismissed," she nodded thoughtfully.

Chopper expected a call to the captain's quarters, a dressing down for insubordination, but none came. When he came to mess the next morning – his dinner, everyone else's breakfast – she was at his table with a mug of caf.

He was looking around for another table, twisting his lips in indecision, when she waved him to her. He got to the table, set down his meal and helmet, and stood at parade rest. He stared straight ahead, prepared for a public dressing down in front of the troopers having morning caf with their breakfast; two squads, one that had transferred from the 212th, Luck, Jesse and Kix along with a few other rookies.

Good commanders didn't usually make it public, unless it was a lesson for the entire company. Well, better him who had nothing to lose than someone who could lose a chance for promotion; better him than someone who could be hurt by a demerit or a reprimand.

"Thank you for the explanation, Chopper." She opened her lips and took a breath as if to say something more, but simply shut her mouth and looked into her empty mug.

Chopper paused. There seemed to be only one response. "You're welcome, sir." He replied.

She stood and walked away taking the mug. Chopper breathed his relief that she'd gone; but he also breathed relief at her words. Not a tyrant, not someone petty and vicious; but someone who listened, someone who learned. He wondered why he was surprised she was so different from Slick.

A second time she'd come in and waved at the table, at him. It had to have been at him, he realized in shock. There were only four clones in the entire mess; no one else near his table in the corner. She sat with Captain Rex and Coric. Chopper relaxed and continued eating listening to her bright chatter until he heard her soft footsteps on the floor so very close. He tensed, pushed the food aside and looked down at the table.

"Chopper, I just wanted to compliment you on practice yesterday." She didn't sit, so Chopper rose and stood at parade rest, his gloved hands behind his back, still looking down and making sure his face wasn't in her view. It was odd, but she seemed to make it easy for him to do so.

"Sir, thank you, sir." Chopper chanced a glance to her face from the corner of his eye. She looked at him oddly but not at his scars so that was OK.

Then she smiled at him. "I think you're getting as good as Rex at seeing the pattern."

"Thank you, sir." He repeated but slightly more heartfelt. He stood slightly taller and prouder; getting compared to Captain Rex was a rare compliment for any trooper. Chopper paused, licked his lips. "You and the general make it easier to understand. Captain Rex seems to make it easier to understand."

Commander Tano nodded at that. "We're getting another two squads of new troopers in a day or two. Will you brief them about the rules before they join us in practice?"

For only an instance, Chopper froze. Then he realized he could brief the new troopers in armor, brief them with his helmet covering his scarred face. "Yes, sir."

She smiled as she left and Chopper could breathe again. He was getting used to her; in practice, in battle and off-duty. That had almost been a conversation. Three days later he grinned in pride behind his helmet as none of the men he had briefed went down first in practice.

This time she didn't wave as she came into the mess, and as she walked closer with Captain Rex at her side, the juices rolled in Chopper's stomach. He suddenly lost his hunger. He pushed the bowl of soup aside. His fingers pulled at the bread in his hand then he stood at attention, not knowing what else to do.

"Chopper, Commander Tano saw you in that skirmish today near the refugee camp and has some questions for you." Captain Rex remained standing, helmet in the crook of his arm – official stance. Commander Tano sat and gestured to Chopper.

She was Jedi. Had she seen the want in his face as he had eyed the fingers of the droids he had blasted? He promised Rex he wouldn't take any droid parts and he hadn't. Not yet, but it seemed as though the urge was even stronger. Would he receive a reprimand for the want? Unlike droid fingers, his own trembled and he saw the pile of crumbs in front of him. To disguise the nervousness, he scraped them in his gloved hands and dusted them in his soup.

"Certainly Captain Rex, Commander Tano. Anything" He didn't want to look up, didn't want to see her eyes. But he couldn't keep looking at the table, so he looked up to the Captain, just a glance, as the Captain was leaving.

Don't desert me! cried a small part of Chopper as he watched the Captain go.

"General Skywalker wanted to see him an hour ago. As usual," came her bright voice. He looked at her, glazing his eyes and turning his face slightly so he wasn't looking directly at her. He wished he could put on his helmet and hide his scars. Hide his eyes. Hide his fear.

"Chopper?" He heard the concern in her voice and steeled himself for her look. He brought his eyes to hers, prepared, he thought, for anything. Except …

She looked at him.

Him, not his face or his scars. Not him as a clone. She looked into his eyes with a smile, like she could see into his soul and found it … acceptable.

Chopper had stricter standards. He dropped his eyes back to the table.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Just distracted."

"Don't let me distract you," she laughed softly.

As though someone as pretty as her wasn't distracting. As though her voice wasn't music after the gruff calls of his brothers. As though every clone in the unit wasn't fighting or showing off for her attention.

As though there wasn't something special about her.

As though he didn't owe her everything.

Chopper didn't smile. He never did; it was a weakness, something other people took advantage of. This did not appear to be related to his regular duties. Nervousness skittered down his spine as it always did before battle.

Sometimes Slick had been like that; seemingly friendly then suddenly sharp, with a demerit or reprimand for some obscure rule that seemed excessive.

She gestured to the seat and his soup. "Please, don't let me stop you from eating. I happened to be reviewing helmet vids of the battle today and I was going over yours."

His heart sunk and he sat, defeated, on the bench. It was about the fingers. How he had looked at them, wanted them, needed them.

She continued in that bright voice of hers.

As though she wasn't getting ready to destroy him for not fighting that need hard enough. As though the want and the deed were the same.

"I saw when you took out three super droids, one right after the other, with three blaster shots and I remembered from the interview you'd said you could do that."

It wasn't about the droid fingers?

Chopper pulled the soup nearer and noticed the bread crumbs. He didn't remember putting them there so he sighed quietly and listened to the commander as he stirred his soup. She had stopped and was waiting for a response. Chopper's brows came down a bit quizzically and he ran the conversation in his head. No, no questions. But she was clearly waiting

"Uh, yes," Brilliant response, trooper, he thought to himself.

She gave a wry grin. You're not very talkative, are you?"

A question. Questions weren't a problem and his answer was quick. "No, sir." He hadn't gotten into too much trouble with direct answers.

"Can you do that all the time? Can you take the droids out with a one for one shot reliably?" She leaned on the table, her chin in her hands.

He inspected her question. It didn't seem to be a trap; no opinion needed simply factual information.

"About seven times out of ten." He allowed cautiously.

She smiled and he wanted to like her, wanted to trust her. "That's great. How?"

His eyes wandered around the mess and he blew out a breath of air as he considered how to answer that question. 'Blaster fire' seemed a bit short and slightly insubordinate. He inspected the conversation in his mind, chewing his lip a little

She was waiting for his answer. He gave her the mechanics.

"There's a hand-size concavity in the metal of their first banding and right behind it is a bundle of wires and parts which control mobility. Hitting that curve usually dents the metal enough to pinch some wires behind the panel, incapacitating the droid. It'll usually just go down with a single blast." He paused, thought a second, and didn't want her to think he wasn't doing his duty. "I make sure to come back and blast each droid into component parts, but during battle when there's always more droids coming, temporary incapacitation is enough."

She nodded. "A concavity. Do you think it was a design error?"

He shrugged, glanced down at the cold soup then glanced at her, glazing his eyes out of habit. He looked behind her, his eye level so far above her head. "Just a weakness to exploit."

"Down here," she joked. He dropped his eyes more to her level. She smiled at him and he looked down at the table to avoid her eyes but not before noticing they were blue.

"Are there other weakness? In other droids?" She peered at him intently and he didn't want to disappoint her.

He nodded. "The B1's are just weak all over. A blaster shot almost anywhere will take it out." He gave a grunt that substituted for a laugh. "If you've got lames on," He noticed her frown and her fingers reach as though for explanation. He tapped the armor around his fist then slipped it off his glove and handed it to her. "You can punch a B1 and it'll go down as easy as a man. Sometimes easier, the problem with B1s is numbers."

Her fingers ran over the plastoid-alloy armor as he spoke, gently touching the outer edge. Non-standard; he had modified it by sharpening it to a cutting edge when he'd seen Sergeant Coric had modified his.

For a moment he was still; she might object to armor modifications. Slick had. Or she might not notice. Commander Tano simply nodded and handed him back the piece of armor. She had noticed and didn't appear to object.

Chopper continued speaking as he slipped the armor piece back on his hand, locking it into place. "The SBDs also have a weakness in their shoulder joints at the back, comparable to our armor openings." Chopper turned so she could see the back of his shoulder and gestured the area with his hand. "A shot there can cause them to freeze, misfire or even blow up their capacity to fire on that side."

She was nodding and her earlier smile had given way to a thoughtful expression. He wanted to give her more, he owed her. "But if I have the concavity, I go for that. It's larger, easier to hit and the damage is greater."

"Tactical droids?" she asked.

"Weak joints." He grinned ferociously, absently, as he remembered ripping the head off one. "Visible power cells." He schooled his features into neutrality, no need to scare her, but he caught the edge of her predator's smile.

"Droiddeckas?"

Chopper thought. Rollies were relatively new and he hadn't seen more than a couple and those at a distance. "I don't really know." He turned his head to one side, scars away from her, thinking, "Maybe bad peripheral vision, limited gun mobility. Not something I want to test on the field. Not until I see more of their action. They roll forward, their guns on either side of the eyes." He motioned with his hands by his eyes and wished he hadn't because she'd look at his face. She did, but not at his scars.

She nodded thoughtfully. "Roll forward, set their tripod then the shield."

"Do they need to do that in sequence?" Chopper supplied. "That might be something to consider."

"Commando droids?" she asked and he shook his head.

"I've never seen one."

Commander Tano was quiet for a moment and Chopper stirred the mess that had been soup.

"Would you object if I asked you to take a special assignment for the next week?" She asked quietly, as if he might refuse, as if she were asking a favor of him.

His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. Special assignments were, in his experience, either dangerous or waste-work to punish a clone. He'd had plenty of both. But he knew he really had no choice; because he was a trooper and because he owed her. So he mumbled something that wasn't 'no'.

"I'll talk to Rex about it. You and he can determine if it's worth pulling you from your regular duties. I'd like you to go over battle and helmet holovids to assess droid weaknesses. See if it might be worth you teaching the others, at least informally, about their weaknesses."

He was surprised. It seemed a good assignment. "I've taught others what I know."

"Are they better for it? Does it seem to work?" Her face brightened with another smile.

He nodded slowly. "I think so." He looked at her facing her fully, forgetting – for once – the scars on his face. ""I get assigned to each squad for a set time; all of us more experienced troopers get rotated. The Captain wants the rookies to talk to us, learn from us. The kill rates on the field go up after I've been with a squad. I like to think I helped with that." He quickly bowed his head again as he caught a look from her.

Was that approval?

He spoke to the tabletop. "I'd really like a chance to see some vids of the commando droids in action. See what I can learn from them."

"Great! I'll be right back. I'm going to get some soup." She glanced at the congealed mess in his bowl and wrinkled her nose. "I'll get you some, too."

He shot up in fear. "That's ok, sir. I can get my own."

She laughed softly and reached for his shoulder. "I disturbed your dinner. I should at least ..."

He flinched before her hand touched his armor and she drew back without touching him. She inspected him for a moment, her head slightly tilted. It was said the Jedi could see into your soul and Chopper felt a pit in his stomach. His soul was as scarred as his face.

"You sit, Chopper, and consider what you might need. What battles you want us to pull vids from. I'll get soup for both of us." It didn't sound like it, but Chopper knew it was an order.

"Sir, yes sir." He spoke softly and sat, watching her go pick up a tray.

Sometimes writing goes fast - however, the next chapter (leaving Christophsis) requires a bit of research on Wookiepedia, my favorite resource, and might be more than a week. Or maybe not, there isn't much to do when pretty much everything I own is on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

As always, read and enjoy...