Malevolence Arc
Attack & Evac
Jester grinned and set down his cards. "Twenty-two," he called out in triumph. "Beat that if you can."
Coric shook his head and set his cards down. "Not me." He grinned and glanced at Chopper. "Can you put this 212th son of a Fett in his place?"
"No." Chopper set his hand down as well and leaned back in the chair, letting it rest against the wall. He had raised his hand to rub his chin and was about to ask Jester a question about being a new sergeant under Commander Cody and General Kenobi when the station alarms went off.
"Attention!" The voice was pre-programmed in soft, unaccented Kaminoan. "This is not repeat not a drill. All Kaliida Station personnel please initiate Level three evacuation procedures. All other personnel, please report to the nearest technician or proceed to the nearest channel port hangar for evacuation."
Chopper knew it would continue, giving updates, until whatever emergency had set it off was over. He pulled on his helmet and Jester followed suit. Coric slid the cards together and pushed them toward Chopper.
"In case you get bored en route," he said then turned to the medical technician, helmet in his hand. "I'm Sergeant-medic Coric, second in command of the 501st and can be useful in the evac. What's planned for the troopers in bacta tanks?"
"Nothing for the moment, sir" replied the technician. "The tanks are too heavy and the men too injured for an evac. We'll worry about them when we get to Level One." He chewed his lower lip and offered them slightly more information. "The tanks really can't be moved and I don't know if there is a contingency for them. Kaliida hasn't been in operation that long." He frowned and his voice was softer. "If there is a contingency... they didn't inform me."
Chopper snorted. "Means there is no contingency," he spoke privately to Jester who murmured in agreement.
"I'm worried about my captain now." Coric's voice was sharp and hard; very much like's Rex's when he gave orders.
Chopper's lips curled up at the corners under his helmet as he stepped behind and to one side of Coric. Jester, only an instant slower, matched his movements. Both of them in support positions for Coric.
The technician blinked at suddenly facing three armored troopers then turned toward the captain's bacta tank with a gesture that could only mean 'follow me'. He touched a few keys on the console, checked a digital readout. "He has another quarter cycle."
Coric stood for a moment looking up at Rex, knowing he heard everything, knowing he saw the flashing lights. Slowly Rex's bonde head nodded in the blue gel. "Begin cycling him down," ordered Coric.
"But," the technician started to object.
"He's command level; he'll be needed and more useful out here. And just a quarter cycle…" Coric shook his head. "That's almost nothing, isn't it Chopper?" He glanced back at Chopper with a small smile.
Chopper nodded to the technician, but snorted in closed channel to Jester. "He won't have stamina and he'll hurt. He'll need one of us keeping an eye on him." Jester nodded back, ready to do whatever was necessary.
"I'll make sure Coric knows," said Chopper though he was sure the medic already knew. "He'll want to armor up so let's go find the captain a new suit and chest plate."
As the technician began the process, Chopper found the captain a new bodysuit while Jester retrieved a chest plate from supplies. Rex grimaced as Coric and the technician helped him out of the tank.
"Good call, Coric." Rex nodded at Coric as Chopper helped him with the shirt. It was easy to tell his ribs pained him; bone required more healing than skin or muscle tissue or internal organs. He jerked and swallowed a hard breath as Chopper pulled the shirt on him.
"Bind up his ribs for stability," Chopper told the technician quietly under the voice of Coric briefing the captain about events since they'd left Zygeria.
"Kaliida is obviously his next target; the most obvious GAR fixture around," supplied Rex as he stood and tested his bound side then slowly pulled down his shirt letting Chopper and Coric fasten the rest of his armor on him. "Naboo is close; is that the evac point?" He asked the technician who nodded. Then Rex glanced and gave a small smile to his men as Chopper handed him his helmet. He strode toward the door. "Coric, Jester, Chopper. For the moment you're with me. Technician, I would like you to begin cycling the bacta tanks for the less injured men; men who will be able to participate in an ordered evacuation."
"Yes, sir." The technician turned to his console. He knew it was a good idea even if his commander hadn't ordered it yet. Kaliida Shoals Medical Center hadn't had much time to develop full emergency procedures.
Even as they followed Captain Rex down the hallway, Chopper saw the emergency strobes set up a different, faster pattern and the voicetone let them know they had gone to Level Two evacuation status. The captain moved from a fast walk into a jog towards the command center of Kaliida Station, his arm protectively curled around his ribs, holding them against movement that obviously sent waves of pain through him.
They passed a docking bay where a thousand wounded clones in the soft clothing of a patient stood or sat with a back against the wall as they waited for the next transport ship. Vibrations of a departing frigate rippled through their boots. One clone technician seemed to be in command, answering questions and motioning people with his arms, occasionally glancing down at the console.
"Jester, you assist here as needed," commanded the captain. "I've got your helmet scramble set and will keep you on linked channel with Coric and Chopper."
Jester veered into the hangar bay with a nod. In his helmet, Chopper could hear the 'yessir'.
They all heard Rex's words to Jester. "You can be the last man on a ship, sergeant, but you'd better be on a ship. I've only borrowed you from Cody."
Jester laughed. "Yes sir."
See Slick, see. Good men, all of them. Chopper bit down on his lower lip, pushing thoughts of Slick into the back of his mind. Those unbidden thoughts came often, particularly in battle, and Chopper knew it was inculcated fear. Slick had tried to make him fail and he had fallen. He had collected the droid fingers to prove his strength and bravery; but only a scared man, a fearful man needed to prove anything.
Captain Rex. He kept his mind on his captain now. Rex would order something and expect it to be done. Chopper would do it; he had discovered he'd rather have the captain's trust than bits of metal.
They found the command center and Chopper skidded to a halt at the sight of a Kaminoan. The Kaminoan, female with no head crest and high caste from her gray eyes, was talking to a technician commander. Her head swayed on her long neck like a flower in the wind.
Chopper's hand went to his blaster, but he had enough presence of mind not to draw it.
"Ease up, Chopper." It was Rex, private channel for his ears alone. "You've already been released from medical. You're 501st and that makes you mine."
"Yes sir," growled Chopper in a low voice but he took up a position by the door to be, hopefully, ignored by the others in the room. The captain switched to external audio opening the channels for them all to hear through his link, including Jester.
"Captain Rex of the 501st. How can we assist, Commander Aliik? Madam Se?"
"We have over 50,000 clones to evacuate." Her voice was calm in the Kaminoan manner but her hands moved in a dance of fear. "Naboo has granted medical asylum and will be sending more ships to augment our small fleet."
"What's the ETA until the attack?"
"Much quicker than we anticipated." Commander Aliik slid his fingers over the console. "Perhaps just over a quarter cycle. We've been told it's an ion cannon capable of shutting down all systems in this station."
Chopper hissed inside his helmet. Only a quarter cycle? That was fast. They would be lucky to get even half the troopers away from Kaliida before then.
"Including bacta tanks?" asked Coric and the Kaminoan nodded.
"They will," she began in her soft, modulated voice but her nostrils twitched in agitation, "asphyxiate."
"One of our technicians suggested we remove partially healed troopers out of the tanks now and we've relayed that to all sections of Kaliida." Commander Aliik leaned forward, both arms straight against the console in the center of the room.
Madam Se spoke. "There will still be over 10,000 men incapable of surviving outside of a tank at this time."
Like Jig and Sergeant Kano and Waxer and the other man of the 212th.
"Where do you need us?" asked Rex. "Where do you want us?"
"I believe you may be one of the higher ranking uninjured clones here. Will you serve on Naboo as liaison with the government there?" Aliik stood straight and pulled his hands from the command console.
"Do we know where the troopers are going? One place or will ships be going to different destinations? Rex nodded crisply
"A grassy plain with mild hills outside Theed." Aliik's lips twitched. "It's an old battle site."
"Supplies?"
"Unknown at the moment and not urgent." Commander Aliik gave a small shake of his head.
"I meant medical supplies," clarified Rex.
The Kaminoan sighed, her hands moving slowly in distress. "Ship med kits. Whatever Naboo will provide. Insufficient."
"Coric," Rex turned. "You're in charge of getting medical supplies from Kaliida to Naboo."
"Yes sir, Captain." Coric turned on his heel and was out the door.
"How will he do what is required?" asked Nala Se; her curiosity momentarily calming her agitation.
"I don't know," Rex moved next to Aliik to view the console. "That's his job."
See Slick, it's not the way things are done, merely that they get done. When orders are clear …. Chopper paused, reveling for a moment in that little epiphany. When orders are clear... Slick had rarely given clear orders. Captain Rex told his men the end result he wanted and moved out of their way; like the general, like the commander. Simply ordering some end result and ready to reevaluate and change plans at a moment's notice. Giving his men flexibility, trust. Not like Slick's micro-mismanagement.
"Chopper," called Rex as he was inputting their helmet codes into the console for Madam Se and Commander Aliik to reach him on the planet. "Have you ever been to Naboo?"
"No, sir." Chopper tried to shrink from the Kaminoan's eyes, as if she could see beyond his helmet.
"It's a nice place, trooper. I think you'll enjoy it." Rex's fingers finished with the console and he glanced up at Chopper. "You're on port side docking bay hangar on the 23 level. Most walking wounded are on that level and most of the pilots coming into that channel will be volunteers from Naboo."
"Expecting trouble?" Chopper asked through the helmet as he gave a quick nod to Commander Aliik and the Kaminoan then turned to the door.
Rex's voice in Chopper's helmet echoed its way to Coric and Jester's links. "Just differences between GAR and civilian protocol. Make sure you're on a ship also."
No longer in the room with the Kaminoan, Chopper grunted with relief. "Yes sir." He paused for an instant in the corridor, getting his bearings. "And you, Captain?"
"I'm going to contact Skywalker and Kenobi. Then I'll make my way to a ship and Naboo. Is that good enough?" There was a wry note in the captain's words.
"Yes sir. Let us know when you've left the station."
"Was that an order, trooper?" Rex chuckled. Chopper ignored the question as he began jogging down the hall toward the elevator. He heard both Jester's laugh and Coric's reply of 'Yes it is'.
Chopper found the cavernous docking bay where clones were coming by the thousands. The highly trained troopers were orderly but the technicians were glad for his help.
They were transporting the severely wounded now; men who should be in bacta tanks. Technicians had liberally doused them with bacta and analgesic and painkillers but they still moaned softly and it made Chopper pause and shiver in familiar sympathy. Helpless. Some men were in drugged sleep, others in a semi-conscious haze. No trooper likes being helpless.
No one objected when Chopper crowded the volunteer ships, when he put more severely wounded on flights under the oversight of the less wounded. On some of the frigates there'd been a few bacta tanks and the technicians filled those up first.
"Watch over your brothers," Chopper told the men he helped move onto the frigates and flyers. They nodded, moving, making space, holding more wounded brothers close. Chopper felt something hurting his chest; a constriction, a pain that almost made him want to cry as he contemplated his brothers and wondered if he'd been fully healed up.
Captain Rex was already planetside; beyond their helmet receiver range. Coric had let them know he'd gone with the captain.
"Captain Rex's men." It was Commander Aliik's voice on their helmet comms. "Please enter the next shuttle in your bay. The Malevolence has been sighted and is closing. Our technicians will finish loading the men."
It was a lie and Chopper knew it. There were still too many wounded and too few technicians, every trooper there knew it. He glanced around the hangar to see too many clones still waiting patiently, talking softly, seeing to each other's needs. Rex had told him to follow Commander Aliik's orders; they'd been told by the captain to be on a shuttle; that he'd need them planetside. For an instant, overwhelmed by the view of his wounded brothers patiently waiting as they knew...
Chopper turned abruptly. "Jester?" he asked over their channel even as he shoved a carton of supplies into the cargo hold of the frigate. It was grabbed by several assisting hands.
"I'm good, Chopper, in flight and Naboo-bound." Chopper could hear Jester's smile. "I'm even in the cockpit jump seat and the pilot is female."
"Not your type, Jester." Chopper said as he pulled a trooper's arm around his shoulders to get the man into the hold.
"I'm never one to pass up an opportunity for new experiences, Chopper." Jester's voice was a bit smug. "And you're assuming that I've even had the opportunity to develope a 'type'. For all anyone knows, she could be my type."
"I'll finish this shuttle in a moment." Chopper pulled another man into the cargo hold. He had around 500 men crowded in a vessel for just over half that.
"Don't make that a moment too long, Chopper," warned Jester.
Chopper pushed a lift onto the shuttle; the man on it had no legs and that jolted Chopper's senses. He should have been sent to Kamino. Chopper's hands continued working while his mind whirled. The legless man grabbed another wounded clone and pulled him on the lift to share it.
The ship was full; all seats taken and the floor area crowded with men sitting, standing or on anti-grav stretchers and lifts.
"All in," yelled Chopper to the civilian pilot through the intercom. "Door is secure."
"It's a hatch," yelled the pilot back at him; some rumpled man who had volunteered his ship and his time, but certainly not his good nature. "It's a najlin hatch."
Chopper figured najlin was the Naboo equivalent of kriffing. "The najlin hatch is secure, too." Chopper retorted to the chuckles of nearby brothers and there was silence from the pilot. Then a loud, raucous hoot of laughter rang through the ship from the cockpit.
Chopper sat, suddenly realizing he was thirsty. The motors of the cargo transport churned and the metal decking and bulkheads vibrated. He was about to stand and look for some water when a brother's hand passed him a bottle. Chopper muttered his thanks. For a moment he looked at it, worried about pulling off his helmet and showing his scars. He shouldn't be worried. By rights every man here had scars and the man with no legs… but habit was strong.
"Remove it, Chopper," said a familiar voice. "You've been working hard. Don't get dehydrated."
Slick's voice! Chopper froze.
Slick's voice but not Slick's words; Slick had never cared. Chopper turned to see Gus, face white in pain, his split goatee more evident against that paleness, leaning against the bulkhead. Chopper glanced at him, wondering how he had missed identifying Gus as he'd been loading the men. He was in the soft clothing of a patient.
With deliberation, Chopper removed his helmet, sliding the comm unit to his shoulder. With equal deliberation he opened the bottle and took a large mouthful of water and swallowed. Then he turned to the trooper next to him.
"What happened to you, Gus?" he asked softly. "Last I heard you were with the 41st Elite?"
"Last I heard you were court martialed." Gus's voice was low, privacy in the crowded hold. Chopper nodded.
"Court martialed; stripped of rank, of everything." He took another swallow. "But recommended for transfer, not reconditioning." He set his elbows to his knees, letting the bottle dangle in his fingers. "I'm with the 501st now."
Gus shook his head. "That can't be good. Captain Rex was part of the debriefing team. He'll give you a hard sergeant, be watching you every second for... mistakes."
Chopper shook his head wondering what word Gus had almost said instead of 'mistakes'. "He's a fair captain and the 501st," Chopper paused, "we've been in a lot of battles. We never have a full company." Chopper smiled as he watched the deck. "He assigns me as sergeant's aid for every new squad. He has me act as commander's second sometimes, let's me know when I've done good work."
Chopper suddenly glared into Gus's eyes then dropped his head to glare at the deck beneath him. "He never did that. He never told me when I'd done good work." Chopper turned away, the water suddenly sour in his mouth. He wouldn't say the traitor's name for hate. For a few words of praise, Slick, we would have given you our souls.
"Do you know what happened to the others?" Gus's voice was suddenly his own, not Slick's. "They never told me."
"Did you ask?" Chopper glanced around the cargo hold. The troopers were helping each other; passing around water, quietly talking with each other and he felt that constriction in his chest again. It was as though his lungs had ballooned in size trying to escape out of his ribs and his armor. He ran a quick body-diagnostic check but the helmet said his vitals were fine.
"No. I don't think they wanted me to know. But," Gus lowered his head, suddenly as interested in the deck as Chopper. "But Sketch and Punch were my first squad. I came out of Kamino with them and Jester."
Chopper chuckled, suddenly realizing that he had never asked either; that only Jester had felt it important. He leaned back, more relaxed. A trooper's first squad was special; they were usually the brothers he had trained with since the beginning, brothers who knew a trooper from the time he'd been a cadet. Chopper felt a moment's sorrow for his own first squad, long dead on Geonosis.
"Jester's with the 212th. You'll see him on Naboo. He's doing well enough with his new company. He recently made sergeant."
There was a snort of disbelief from Gus. "That k'atini?"
"Gus." Chopper leaned his head back against the bulkhead, suddenly tired and angry. "Right now you're wounded. But if you keep having that kind of attitude, I will challenge you to one on one; not for Jester but because that is one kriffing attitude that needs a serious adjustment."
For a moment Gus was quiet then he sighed and shifted. "My sergeant says that. That I've got an attitude. And I've been called out several times for one on one because of my 'attitude'." He rubbed a palm over his face. "I don't see it, Chopper. I've gotten past the point where I believe he's wrong but I can't see it." Gus's voice held a desolate note.
Chopper nodded. "If you can't see it, you can't fix it."
"I want to fix it, Chopper. I know that this is a new chance to not be associated with the traitor, but I don't know how."
"So that's what he did to you," murmured Chopper as he finished the water.
Gus tilted his head, looking a Chopper sideways. "What do you mean?"
"Did you see what he did to me? What he encouraged you to do to me?"
Gus licked his lips then gave a single nod. He opened his mouth, perhaps to apologize, but Chopper continued speaking.
"What he did to Jester? How he encouraged all of us to treat Jester?"
Again Gus nodded slightly; frowning as the memory of Slick's actions rolled over him, more clearly destructive in hindsight.
"Sketch and Punch had each other and because of that were harder for him to get to. So who did that leave?"
"Me? But he liked me?" Gus asked plaintively. "Didn't he?"
Chopper shook his head. "I don't think he did; don't think he could like any of his brothers. I think he was just setting you up so he could knock you down."
Gus frowned at that then sighed. "Maybe you're right." They lapsed into silence for a moment, each with his own thoughts, his own regrets. "What about Sketch and Punch?"
"You still haven't told me how you got here." Chopper pushed the empty bottle to one side.
"An AT-RT fell on me. Busted up most of my ribs; punctured a lung. They pulled me out of a bacta tank early. I can still feel the ribs shift."
Chopper gave a soft grunt. "I can bind your ribs if you need."
"That would help," admitted Gus and Chopper stood to search the supply carton he'd pushed onto the ship.
"Sketch is with the Coruscant Guards while Punch is with the 224th. Mimban the last I heard." Chopper pulled out material for binding Gus's ribs and a small packet of caplets. "Do you need a painkiller, Gus?" Chopper handed the small pack to Gus.
"I can wait." Gus slipped the packet into a pocket. He stared down as Chopper began taping his ribs with the wrap. "Chopper," said Gus in a low voice that carried no further than Chopper's ears, "I'm sorry I laughed."
Chopper paused, his mind drawing back to the bar, to a dark-haired woman. "Why did you laugh?"
"Because he did, Chopper. Because I wanted him to like me, I wanted to be like him."
Chopper paused. "What about the sergeant you have now?"
"Yes, but he won't like me." Gus sighed. "I think he knows I was the traitor's second. I think they told him."
Chopper shook his head. "They didn't tell anyone. Give up on making him like you and just be a good trooper." Chopper thought another moment, slowly circling Gus's torso with the stabilizing wrap. "Why do you want him to like you?"
Gus looked at Chopper in confusion. "He's my sergeant. I need to work with him, need to be able to work with him and the rest of the squad.
That doesn't require like, Gus." Chopper gave a grunt. "Do you think any of the 501st like me? Respect is enough."
Suddenly Jester's voice came through the comm unit on Chopper's shoulder. Deadly calm. "Chopper, get to a viewport."
Chopper handed the binding material to another trooper to help Gus, pulled on his helmet and pushed past wounded men to get to the cockpit
He saw the bright ring of ion plasma leave the Malevolence. It was the biggest kriffing ship he'd ever seen; impossible to judge the size accurately with nothing to compare at close distance.
The ring of blue energy crackled, expanded, slipped around some of the fighters – both CIS and GAR. He recognized that dizzying flight of General Skywalker's and saw several other ships of Gold Squadron evade the weapon. Then the ring encircled some of the evacuation shuttles. It seemed on their tail, following them with predatory intent.
"Skan-dree, ahalte," shouted their pilot in reflex as he maneuvered the ship to pilot them away from the ion energy ring.
Chopper couldn't understand what the Naboo pilot was saying; but some things didn't need much translation. "Give me an open comm to the men."
"Taio," said the pilot as he gave a quick nod, simultaneously flipping a switch and pushing the entire freighter into an outside roll to avoid the ring. Chopper flexed his knees as he felt the gravity shift as the ship struggled to keep the floor decking 'down'.
"Hang on," called Chopper on the intercom. "We're taking evasive maneuvers. Gravity may cut out." That was likely the way this pilot was flying and the pilot nodded absently. "Hold on to the injured. I don't want bodies bouncing around the cargo hold."
Chopper glanced back to what he could see of the ships that had been circled. There were four GAR frigates as well as an equal number of Naboo ships acting as medical transport. Malevolence's cannons were cutting the drifting GAR freighters to shreds even as the big ship was moving to target the medical station. The crackling blue ring passed the window and Chopper's helmet darkened automatically in response to that blinding light.
"Jester?" he called into his helmet's comm. But there was only silence and darkness.
Read, review, enjoy...
Next chapter... in 3 or 4 days.
Just a note about the episode - Rex doesn't show up much in this story arc; just once I think, behind Skywalker's shoulder. It was just a holovid, I'm sure.