Malevolence Arc

Kaliida Shoals Medical Center

There were always more battles to fight.

At Kothis Chopper had been following Commander Tano through the streets while General Skywalker and Gold Squad did some fancy flying. That had been a messy battle; somehow the seppies had been able to block communications and the ground squads found it difficult to coordinate attacks. Chopper had gotten limited communications by running the private links of their helmets into a looped array when the command links had died. It had been good enough and at the end, Captain Rex had nodded at him, "Good work, trooper".

On the platform city of Denfrandi on Taloraan he'd gotten some good vids of droidekas to study. Caber, with his big Z6, had moved in next to Chopper, covering him, letting him concentrate on the vids. Chopper had also gotten a vid of the commander on some giant bird creature. She had looked like she was enjoying it. He'd sent the vid to her office console, but didn't think she'd seen it yet. They'd all been a little busy but the droideka vids were really excellent and he owed Caber.

Commander Tano had gone with Skywalker, Kenobi and Rex on some secret mission then Chopper and his brothers had been called to Zygerria as back-up for General Plo Koon's Wolfpack. That hadn't turned out badly at all. Using jet-packs, they had rescued a Shili population of Togruta from slavery and been counted as heroes. That had been pleasant; almost as pleasant as the freedom of the jet-packs. They'd gotten a small five-day break as some troopers were chosen from the combined companies for a garrison to protect the Shili population and that was also pleasant. Chopper took most of the time to categorize his vids and update his information. Caber had been wounded and while he was in medical Chopper went to his barracks offering Caber's squad brothers help with Caber's armor. Chopper had felt odd, sitting in another barracks with other troopers, listening as they talked, his hands cleaning another trooper's armor. He'd felt odd, but not unwelcomed. In retrospect that had been quietly pleasant as well.

There'd been one Shili female who had talked to Chopper. He'd kept his helmet on, of course, but she had talked nicely, kindly at him. He hadn't spoken much either; simply answered whatever questions she had the quickest he could. She'd asked how to use a blaster and, after asking the commander's advice and the captain's permission, he'd taken her to a non-populated area and shown her.

He let her practice with his deece; standing behind her and putting his hands on hers to guide, touching her arms with his fingers adjusting her grip, putting his hands around her waist and hips to place her in a firm stance. They were only whisper-touches that barely brushed against her clothing, only whisper touches that burned him in the night though he wasn't sure why.

When he was called into formation to leave, she'd told him she would miss him and gave him a kiss.

On the cheek.

Of his helmet. Of course.

Beneath his helmet he hadn't smiled. Of course.

But it had been extremely pleasant and Chopper had thought about smiling. He ignored the laughter of the other troopers, especially Luck and Twelf who had jeered at 'three quarter man and the pretty girl'.

That kiss on his bucket was still on his mind when the transport gunships were ambushed by the remnants of a CIS company. They'd taken care of it, blasting droids with the transport guns, landing to disembark and following their Jedi into battle.

Chopper had the sudden unhappy thought that he'd shown the Shili woman how to use a blaster and now she might think she could fight. She couldn't fight, not like he could. She'd never survive an attack like this; droids attacking from multiple angles. Then his mind was on the battle; cold, efficient, deadly. He saw Rex take a blast to his chest but keep going, Jig went down, alive but curling into a fetal position. Then Chopper had that cold, breath-taking shock of a blast to his ribs and the ground slammed into his face.

Chopper's eyes whipped open as consciousness overtook him. His breathing shuddered in pain as he looked; first thing, always first thing, checking the location code inside his helmet. It was an unfamiliar number and he began to calm; it wasn't Kamino; that code was burned into his memory. Where was he? The location coding flashed again, alternating letters instead of the numerical coding now; Kaliida Shoals Medical Station.

Chopper's breath softened from his anxiety and he turned his head carefully as he was being transferred from ship to station, looking for others of the 501st and almost panicked at seeing a Kaminoan. He grabbed for his blaster, never mind the raging pain from his side, adrenaline streaking through his body. Captain Rex was next to him; two blaster wounds to the chest, burnt and reddened flesh seeping blood and other liquid through the armor, and reached over with his armored hand to lay it on Chopper's weapon.

"Stand down, trooper." Rex's voice was a ragged whisper. "I'm right beside you."

Trembling, Chopper had relinquished the blaster. His hands shook as one of the medical technicians triaged both him and the captain to a bacta unit. The blue lights and soft bubbling of bacta reassured him he wasn't going to be dissected.

Not yet, anyway. Not until the Kaminoans saw him.

"Let me get your armor," said one of the clone technicians as he started to remove Chopper's helmet. For an instant he paused, looking over Chopper's scars. Then he continued to remove the armor, being particularly careful in removing the chest plate. Still, Chopper's breath had hitched at its removal and ensuing pain until the technician spread bacta and analgesic over the wound

"It's not that bad," Chopper told him from experience with a harsh voice. "Less than a day in bacta. More important; how is my captain?" There were two technicians working on Captain Rex; one removing the armor, the other quickly prepping him for the tank. Rex had the limp, waxy look of a dead man, but they wouldn't be working on him if he was dead.

"He'll be in a bacta tank before you," said the technician working on him. He spared a glance at the monitors attached to Chopper's captain even as his fingers worked on removing the remainder of Chopper's armor, more quickly than he had removed the breast plate. "He's alive and stable. He'll stay that way."

"Good," affirmed Chopper. He grit his teeth and frowned, then spoke again. "How often do the Kaminoans inspect the healing tanks?" His tone must have betrayed what he felt. The technician's fingers froze then continued removing his armor, more slowly this time.

"There's only Nala Se and she inspects daily, more often if necessary." The technician paused and glanced into Chopper's mismatched eyes before continuing his work. "You don't have to worry. She has interest only in healing; not in research."

Chopper was sure he couldn't believe that. He glanced over to his captain, surprised to see him already in a tank, a breather on his face. They'd worked fast to get him into a healing tank.

"Your turn." The technician had the breather on his face and him in the tank quickly. The gel of bacta was cool against his wound, cool against his skin. Chopper decided not to sleep even though he wouldn't be able to do anything if the Kaminoan inspected him while he was in the tank.

In the last few minutes of Chopper's time in the bacta tank, Jester and Coric came into the room. Jester looked up into the blue tank and smiled, tapping the new sergeant marks on his armor, then both troopers sat and did a quick cleaning of Chopper's armor. The chest plate was new and Jester began removing the invisible designs. Coric, a data pad in hand, was speaking to his brother medics, occasionally gesturing to one tank or the other. Chopper had seen some other troopers from the 501st and 212th. Sergeant Kano and Jig were both there as was Waxer, a scout from the 212th Chopper was acquainted with through Jester.

The glowing ring at the bottom and top of his tank brightened and the burble of bacta as it emptied distracted Chopper from the men outside the tank. He took several deep breaths and tensed then released muscle groups. They opened the tank and Chopper was pleased that he could actually stand and lift his foot to walk weakly out of the tank. Bacta did that; healed you up but wore you down. Jester was beside him and took his arm. One technician almost slapped him on the back in camaraderie, but paused at the sight of the scars and that gave Chopper time to move away from him.

"How are you doing, Chopper?" Coric's voice was pleased.

"I'll be fine in a few minutes, Sergeant Coric," Chopper took a deep, cleansing breath as he touched the new skin on his side and chest, still covered with old scars then pulled on the clean body suit the technicians had set with his armor. "Congratulations Sergeant Jester."

Jester laugh, slapped him on the shoulder, "Jester to you, Chopper," and went to check on those men in bacta tanks who belonged to the 212th.

"We'll be here for several day-cycles and have berths on the 23rd level. The Resolute is on a mission." Coric gave a grin. "I've only heard rumors, mind you, but they say General Skywalker and Commander Tano have figured out that mystery weapon of General Grievous."

Chopper and Jester, returned from his quick round, nodded; Chopper pulling on his armor. He'd have to finish removing the Kaminoan design off the new chest plate, but that wouldn't take long. Jester had done most of it for him. Coric sat down and pushed aside items on the technician's table. He set down his data pad and pulled out the deck of cards from one of the modular pouches on his belt, gesturing to two chairs. "How about a little game of sabacc?" he asked Chopper and glanced at Jester. "I'll be here until the captain is out of the tank and would enjoy the company."

Sergeant Jester nodded. "I'll be here for a while. Only two men of the 212th are here, but they were caught in an explosive blast and I'll be here for a good while after your men are out of tanks."

Chopper didn't like medical; didn't want to stay in medical, didn't want to chance the Kaminoan coming in and inspecting his scars. He didn't think Coric would really enjoy his company though Jester would. Chopper did want to make sure the captain would be alright. Maybe Coric wouldn't let the Kaminoan take him away from the 501st.

"How about by the wall?" he suggested. Both sergeants nodded, knowing Chopper would be sitting with his scars turned to the wall.

Here begins the Malevolence arc...

As always, read and enjoy.

Next chapter in 3-4 days.