Geonosis II

A Familiar Face

The past doesn't leave the present alone.

Geonosis.

Chopper hated the place, but he now had to admit he hated it less than before. Before, he'd been wounded almost to his death and after that near-death he had wished to die for all the things that had happened before Captain Rex had taken him into the 501st.

Now Geonosis was also the place where he'd brought his first squad; the place where his squad had earned their colors and words of commendation from command.

Chopper dragged the back of his gloved hand against his face, wiping away sweat-caked red dirt from his forehead and the ragged stubble of his cheeks then pulled his bucket back onto his head. He was hungry; starving even, the rapid metabolism of his body unassuaged by water and the few ration bars he'd eaten since landing. He'd heard that support had landed a mess and he was looking forward to actual food.

Azur had released the squad for evening meal and Chopper had told them he'd see them after a quick visit with Fives in the auxiliary med tent. Gus was there and, as a medic, would be taking his meals there. Jester said he'd be there also. Perhaps Chopper should have told his squad he would probably take his food to the med tent to eat with Fives and the troopers from his old squad.

It had been three hellish days of fighting with only a few hours respite, at most, between attacks. Chopper was exhausted and, like everyone else, stank of three-day sweat and the acrid smoke of battle. Echo had told him earlier they'd be getting reinforcements; new troopers from Kamino were scheduled to arrive soon.

The 501st had heavy losses. Osik, everyone had heavy losses. Kenobi had lost almost half of his men, though Jester had survived with nothing more than scrapes, bruises, occasional metal burns and a broken finger. General Mundi had lost over half – almost three quarters – of his men.

They'd all lost some good men. Marker from Zeer's squad had died the first day as had Rill and Luck – his good fortune at cards not transferrable to the battlefield. Hardcase and Jesse were back on the Resolute in bacta. Coric had been evac-ed to the Resolute on day two and his prognosis wasn't good. Although that bothered the captain, he hid it from his men. He had pulled ARC Sergeant Echo as his next-in-command and given Fives to Kix as liaison aide; both men back from the destruction of a landing port which would never unload droid battle transports or raw material for any factory again. Echo had closed channel to both Fives and Chopper. "Keep me from doing anything abysmally stupid."

Chopper smiled absently. Echo had done well, adapting to the captain's manner, anticipating needs, bringing attention where it was needed; suggesting diversions, counter-attacks, meshing with Commander Cody's second, Lt. Wooley, as well as the trooper, as new as sunrise but learning quickly, who was assisting General Mundi.

Chopper's squad had done well. Kev had blaster wounds and broken legs and had also been evac-ed the second day. Since he'd been injured while rescuing five of General Mundi's men who been flown to the stony pinnacles by warrior bugs, including Commander Jet, there was nothing but praise for him. He had turned to Chopper with drug-darkened eyes as he was being loaded on the LAAT. He had looked down at the burns, red and blistered on his skin, and the ragged rip on his thigh where a thick splinter of bone penetrated outward then at Chopper. "Are we buying men's lives with our scars, Chopper? He had grinned and gripped Chopper's arm with hard fingers. "It's a good trade, brother, a kriffing good trade."

Chopper became Sergeant Azur's second, command of the squad transitioning seamlessly between the two troopers even as information and ideas came from everyone in the squad. Chopper, remembering Slick's insistence on doing everything his way, smiled. His – Azur's squad wouldn't be that way. The sheer viciousness of Geonosis had made them all quiet but they had earned the small blue touch marks on their helmets. They had earned the words of commendation from the generals.

Look at your squad, Kev had said the first day and Chopper hadn't understood what he meant. He did now.

They were a good squad; strong and steady, supporting and providing for each other. Cohesive. The fact was they were all alive at the end of the first day when so many others weren't. They'd been alive at the end of the second day. They were still alive. Oak had shrapnel wounds in the seams of his armor, his body glove blood-soaked with no replacement available, Double 2 was being treated for blaster burn up one side of his arm while Dexterity was in the main med tent. A large piece of shrapnel had sliced through his helmet into his face. None of them were injured badly enough to be evac-ed. Tomorrow, they'd all be released and report back to Sergeant Azur.

Chopper was good to keeping his promise to the captain. I'll bring them all back. Caber hadn't lost any men either, though two had been evac-ed and another was in the med tent for triage and possible evacuation. Caber's squad had 'adopted' the three remaining men from the unmarked squad that had been in the gunship with them; three men from Jahe's squad. Chopper didn't know where Caber had found yellow paint, but now they each had a touch mark on their shoulder bells. Commander Cody had seen them, but had said nothing. For now, at least, they were part of Caber's squad.

On the second night Fives had taken a glancing blast to the head from one of the bug's sonic blasters while covering a medic tending to a wounded trooper on the battlefield. Sergeant Zeer's squad had covered them, Kru dropping his blaster to singlehandedly drag Fives behind cover. Fives' injury had been hard for Echo to take, harder for Chopper, concerned for both brothers, who understood in a visceral way that head wounds could send you back to Kamino with no discussion, no reprieve, no second chance. Kix had taken a wait and see approach with Fives, monitoring him between other wounded instead of evacuating him back to the Resolute. Chopper and Azur's squad had volunteered to take shifts staying with him and talking to him between their other duties. Kru also had volunteered: "because Kev would" he had muttered not looking at Chopper. Fives had woken up just that morning during one of the nearly constant sandstorms and asked Shen if that noise was real or was his hearing gone? Kix had immediately called Echo and Chopper through their helmet links to share that rare good news.

The attack on the foundry had occurred on the third day, with Commanders Tano and Offee slipping down into the canyon to attack the factory from below and the generals and troopers and tanks banging head against the front door. There'd been so many droids that Chopper knew he'd die that day, that Geonosis was his end as well as his beginning. He resolved to take as many droids with him as possible. Seeing the Seppie tanks take the artillery salvo then appear whole as the smoke dissipated had terrified Chopper. He'd done some rough calculations since and decided that the CIS probably couldn't afford another factory capable of ray shielding tanks. Probably. He'd talk it over with Echo and then present figures to Captain Rex.

But during the battle, he'd been standing near the Jedi when Commander Tano had called in to General Skywalker.

"I'm sorry, Master. We can't make it out." Chopper's sharp ears had caught her words.

Can't make it out? Something dark and hard had clenched around his chest like a droid's fist and Chopper had bitten back a sob of pain. Can't make it out?

Immediately following her words came a rumble of destruction so low Chopper could feel it in his boots and through his body before he heard it. He knew his heart was being destroyed in that same moment, collapsing in on itself even as the foundry collapsed on Ahsoka.

He'd almost forgotten about his squad then, but they stayed with him, grabbing his arms and dragging him behind some stone tower when his body stalled because there was only pain in his mind at the death of his little sister, vodal'ika, his first friend.

Then finding the padawans were alive and Chopper's heart starting up again with so much happiness that he hadn't been able to contain it. He had hugged Commander Offee as well as Commander Tano. She hadn't seemed upset. He'd escorted Ahsoka and the other padawan to the med tent though both girls had insisted they were fine. It had been Gus, who had evaluated the two padawans; reaffirmed their self-diagnosis of 'fine' except for bruises, scrapes. He'd want to see them in another day to check for dust pneumonia.

Chopper grunted as his feet took him towards medical. Not to mention kriffing death worms. Jester had told him about being in the catacombs, seeing those monstrous warrior-insect figures shambling forward, worms squirming from their nostril-orifices, seemingly as immune to the Jedis' light sabers as they were to blasters until they were severely chopped or blasted into several bits.

Chopper decided he still hated Geonosis but not as much as he hated Kamino or being shot out of the air.

Chopper slowed and paused just before reaching the medical tent, quiet with most of the walking wounded – and hunger made a lot of wounded 'walking' – at the mess. He saw several troopers with clean, white armor; the reinforcements Echo had mentioned.

That trooper looked familiar, walking between the camps of relief troopers - mostly shinnies - with his white armor and his helmet loosely held in his hand. He was speaking with two other clones as his fingers caressed the rim of his helmet in some nervous habit.

Suddenly, Chopper snarled, ran and flung himself at the trooper. He yelled into his helmet, closed-channel. "Jester, I need you. NOW!", then pushed it off his head to the ground.

Surprise gave Chopper the first hit, a hard punch breaking the trooper's nose, spurting blood over his white armor. A second punch from Chopper's iron-hard fists slammed against the cheek near his eye, but the trooper turned his head quickly and Chopper struck only a glancing blow, the flesh of cheek sliced open by the knife's edge of Chopper's gauntlet. The trooper brought his own arms up in defensive blocking. His helmet, still tightly held in his hand, aimed at Chopper's head, but slammed into Chopper's shoulder as Chopper ducked his face.

Chopper felt hands grab him, but he twisted away from them; flinging one fist back as his other pressed against his opponent's throat. He hit flesh not armor and felt a streak of satisfaction. Then the other trooper dropped his helmet and pushed Chopper's arm with both hands as he rolled, twisting his legs around Chopper. But Chopper knew that trick; it had been played on him before. His opponent got in a hit to Chopper's face, but Chopper kept the momentum of the roll as he grabbed the other trooper's arm, twisting his own around it then pushing his leg out to stop the movement while he was on top of the other trooper.

Without the support of armor, Chopper's hold would have broken the arm. As it was the trooper cried out as his shoulder was twisted from its socket. He jerked, reaching over and grabbing Chopper's fist with his thumb against the nerves and twisting to remove Chopper's hand as he struggled himself free. He rolled back and came to his knees but his limp arm made him ineffective. Chopper grabbed the limp wrist with one hand and gave a hard, open-palm strike to the trooper's chest with his other, pushing him back; further twisting the arm trapped by Chopper's grip on his wrist. The trooper cried out in pain but Chopper leaned in further, pushing the trooper to the sand, immobilized by pain and a wrist lock.

Then other's arms and hands began to interfere again, pulling Chopper off his target.

Jester's deece in the bloody face of the trooper on the ground stopped everyone. Once again, Chopper was free, pulling from hands lax in shock.

"You're deficient!" shouted one of the men. "You're both defective. You'll be sent back to Kamino – attacking a sergeant for no reason."

The other trooper was in his helmet, very likely in communication with his company. Chopper rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth to wipe away the spit and sweat, but it was blood that smeared against the armor of his hand, wet on his busted lip.

The barrel of Jester's blaster didn't waver. "Hello, Slick." Jester said softly. "I guess you never expected to see us again."

Chopper shook his head, rage making him tremble as he saw only puzzlement in the trooper's face along with the anger of being attacked, of losing.

Slick had never liked losing.

"Look at him, Jester. He doesn't know. He has no idea." Chopper shook his head in disbelief as he reached down to place both hands on Slick's cheeks, one side of his face shiny with blood. "You have no idea what this is about, do you?" Chopper whispered to the sergeant's bewilderment then he shouted. "Do you?"

Slowly the clone beneath him shook his head. "No," he said softly and Chopper rose, his fists suddenly clenched against an enemy no longer there.

How dare they!

Here was Slick anew, still a sergeant, still trusted, still ruining…. Chopper glanced back to his brother-clone's face. It was unlined, only confusion showed in the planes of his face. Chopper growled low in his throat. This man had no nightmares, no dead brothers reproaching him for his deeds. There had been no punishment for Slick, no pain in retribution for all that he had caused.

Chopper had thought the traitor dead, thought himself safe. They told him the traitor had been executed. He began shivering, trembling in some emotion he couldn't name, his head shaking in denial, shaking in something more painful. He felt wounded, more than he'd ever felt before. This wound would kill him, he knew.

"What's going on here?" It was a hard voice, a captain's command voice. "Stand down, trooper and put that deece on the ground."

Jester didn't look at the unknown captain, but rather at Chopper, standing next to him, shivering. At Chopper's look of defeat, Jester gently set the deece at Slick's side, then moved to Chopper, putting an arm around his shoulder. Chopper closed his eyes and dropped his head to Jester's shoulder. "Was it all for nothing, Jester," he whispered. "All a lie? A dream?"

"What happened, 8644?"

A half-sob, half-laugh burst from Chopper's lips. He hasn't even chosen a name yet.

"I was checking on the new squads, sir, as you had ordered, when this trooper attacked me. I don't know why." There was only innocent puzzlement in his voice.

"That's right, sir," added another of the troopers, a red mark on his face that would become a bruise soon, as he glared at the two battle-stained men.

The captain looked at Chopper with hard eyes. "What company do you belong to, trooper?"

There was a flash of the Slick's smirk from 8644, and Chopper clenched his fists, wondering if he could get in a few more hits on his old sergeant before they pulled him off.

"He's mine, Silver." Rex glanced at Chopper's fisted hands. "Stand down, trooper." His eyes moved toward Jester. "Holster your weapon, sergeant." Jester picked up his deece and moved back to Chopper's side, both men in parade rest at the appearance of their commanding officer.

"Rex," the other captain nodded in recognition. "It's good to see you survived this mess, but if these are your troopers, I'd say you need help in disciplining them."

"Provocation, Silver." Rex nodded at the captain, but strode up to 8644. "What's your designation, sergeant?" His voice was soft and Chopper relaxed. Whatever happened, the captain understood why he had attacked this trooper. He might - probably would - punish Chopper with extra duty, but the captain recognized Slick.

"CS-8644, sir," answered Slick.

"Your full designation." pressed Rex, his voice became even softer; as mild as clear water in a fountain. Chopper heard that and stiffened. Rex's voice went soft in rage. Chopper suddenly remembered past his own sorrow to what the captain had lost; how many men had died, how they'd almost been defeated at Christophsis and how that led to Teth from which only five troopers returned with the captain. All because of Slick.

"Rex," The other captain objected and shook his head softly, silently asking him not to ask, not to disgrace the sergeant in front of his own men. But Chopper knew the asking had been enough for his squad to doubt.

Rex looked back at Silver, his brown eyes cold and hard, like two pebbles of Geonosian chert, then turned back to Slick. "I asked for your full designation, trooper, and I expect it." His voice was so low it was almost a whisper.

Slick stood at attention as much as possible for someone with a dislocated shoulder and blood dripping down his face. He swallowed. "CS-R-21-8644. Sir," he cited in a much quieter voice. There were murmurs from the men he'd been walking with. Chopper almost pitied him. Almost.

"R. Reconditioned." murmured Rex. "Did they ever tell you why you were fully reconditioned?"

"They said my attention…" began Slick but Rex cut him off, hard and angry and full of rage; as though they were still on Christophsis, as though everything had happened yesterday, as though they were facing the enemy again with almost none of the heavy weapons.

Chopper closed his eyes, wanting to cry for what they'd all lost. He opened them, chancing a glance at Jester whose own eyes were closed with tears streaking his dirt-grimed face from the memory.

"They lied, 8644. They lied to you." Rex looked at Captain Silver for a moment. "They lied to you, Silver." He turned back to Chopper and Jester. "And they lied to us."

For a moment Rex was still; cold and hard and staring at 8644, his fists clenched and rage making him tremble. Chopper was suddenly frightened. The moment passed and Rex's body language subtly changed; suddenly Rex was captain of the 501st again, a fair man who'd given Chopper a chance to redeem himself. The captain turned back to Chopper and Jester.

"Chopper, as commander's second, convince her she needs to be evac-ed for the coughing. It's gone on long enough; Commander Offee as well. Jester, I believe General Kenobi had some questions regarding your squad's commandeering of the tanks. Good job on taking down those warrior bugs yesterday." Chopper and Jester loped off; everyone within earshot of the altercation knowing there would be no punishment; everyone knowing they were held in esteem by their command group.

Rex watched them go. They were good men, two of the best.

Rex glanced at Silver to see confusion in his eyes. He looked at the traitor who'd caused the death of so many of his men on Christophsis. "You may not remember, CS-8644, but we do." Rex forced his clenched fists to relax. "For the sake of your health, stay away from the 501st and the 212th. There's a man in the 41st Elite who isn't too fond of you either. He's a medic so don't get injured here and make him regret his choice."

Rex turned his back to the traitor, to a man who had no idea what he'd done, no idea why he had a broken nose, a bloodied face and a dislocated shoulder.

Rex frowned. He'd been hungry only moments ago, now he wanted only solitude.

Captain Silver took several hard strides to Rex. "Damn it, Rex." His voice was a harsh whisper. "8644 is one of my most promising sergeants. There was no need to shame him in front of his squad."

"You know there's no shame in being reconditioned, Silver. The shame is what he did before." Rex glanced the direction Chopper and Jester had gone. "They aren't the only ones who knew him, Silver. For his life, keep him away from Cody's troops. Most of the 501st hasn't been around long enough to recognize him." He didn't say 'most of the 501st died because of him'.

"You can't blame a reconditioned man for what he can't remember." Silver hissed. "You know that and so should the 212th."

Rex flexed his fist. It hurt and he thought he had some broken bones from a seismic charge that had gone off too close to him. He'd check with Cor... no, Kix later.

Rex closed his eyes. Maybe not. Maybe he'd wait for Coric or go to the Resolute when Cody returned from checking on his troopers. Coric had been on Teth and Teth suddenly seemed so close, so recent. Rex felt a lump in his throat. He'd lost the 501st then. All but a handful of men. Rex stared down at his hand, broken, scarred, pained. He looked up from his hand into Silver's eyes, wondering if he should tell Silver his new sergeant had been the traitor.

"The dead don't come back, Silver and he has a lot of dead brothers to his account. That's not something that can be wiped away by reconditioning."

# # #

Chopper leaned against the boulder. The commander had gone with Commander Offee on a medical evaluation of their lungs and supply run to Kaliida Medical with Scythe's squad. They'd been beneath the mountain. Chopper shuddered as he had each time he thought of the commander beneath the rock, debris, sand and scree, straining for breath in the blackness.

Ahsoka had laughed, delighted, as she and Commander Offee moved from beneath the Force-held rock towards the open battlefield and the helping troopers, with nothing more than bumps and bruises.

Chopper had been the first down the slope to help them up the tumbled boulders; simply picking her up, tightening his arms around her, giving her a quick hug of relief, and handing her to Dexterity. He'd done the same to Commander Offee, grabbing her mid-cough and handing her to the next trooper in line, Sergeant Azur. She'd been surprised at the hug from some anonymous trooper. "I'm glad you're alive," he'd told her as he handed her up. "I'm glad you're both alive." She had smiled at him then, sweet and timid and bright.

Leaning against the boulder and thinking – almost meditation like some Jedi – was good. Unusual for a trooper, but Chopper found some satisfaction about it that seemed like the satisfaction after battle. He'd been different this battle – not the killing machine he usually considered himself, not the cold precision demanded by Slick… though to be truthful, Chopper knew it had been himself demanding perfection, always himself. As if he had to prove something to the sergeant but he knew now that he had had to prove it only to himself.

He must have. After the other battles he'd still felt … incomplete; felt the awards unwarranted. But now, he'd been given a squad, he'd had to lead instead of destroy and, as Rex had once implied, it had been the making of him.

Chopper had asked his troopers for their best and they'd risen to his highest hidden hopes. Slick had never asked for his squad's best, he had demanded then assumed they'd fail. Facing Slick and doing what he'd always wanted to do… that had been soul-satisfying as well. At least until he realized that Slick, the Slick he'd known, didn't exist.

There was a noise and while Chopper was well within GAR lines and suspected it was a trooper, he still picked up the deece at his side and stood from where he'd been sitting on a large boulder, prepared to call alarm for a bug attack.

The trooper came around the corner of stone, his arm in a sling, his face swollen and his fingers rubbing the rim of the helmet in his hand. Chopper's face hardened and he shoved his deece into the holster so he wouldn't be tempted to use it. The other trooper paused then stopped to stand still at some invisible boundary.

"You're not welcome here," Chopper emphasized the final word with hatred. "Slick."

The other trooper winced at the venom in Chopper's voice. Chopper winced as well, though 8644 had glanced down at the sandy stone and missed Chopper's expression. He didn't have to hate Slick. According to everything he'd been taught, Slick no longer even existed. He was 8644, a reconditioned clone. A new trooper, a shiny, and if Chopper didn't approve, it didn't matter. It wasn't his choice.

"I just came here to ask some questions. I want to understand why you hate me. To know what happened." He shook his head in confusion. "I've cross-referenced the name 'Slick' with the 501st, but it's classified."

"That should tell you enough," Chopper snorted and shook his head. "You want to know who you were; to remember, to bring back your other self. You want to see if that life had meaning."

The other trooper stood there, his head lowered as he stared at the ground, not denying anything.

Chopper sighed, a gentle noise that melded with the evening wind of Geonosis. "If the reconditioning has worked, then you're not who I remember. I won't do that to you."

"And if I someday remember who I was and what I did?" CS-8644 stood at the edge of light thrown by the nearby med tent. From the corner of his eye Chopper caught sight of wounded Fives leaning against Moss and a tent pole, observing them both.

"Then you can have Slick's nightmares. You can look back on all the brothers that died because of you and say remembrance for them." Chopper watched the sergeant, seeking slight differences from Slick. "If you return to who you were before reconditioning, someone will come kill you or they'll send you back to Kamino again."

Chopper looked up into the other trooper's eyes. They weren't Slick's eyes; there was pain in them, and confusion. Slick's eyes had rarely held anything other than cold calculation.

Chopper slid back to leaning against the boulder. "I can't forget what you did. To me and the rest of the squad. What you did to…"

That was classified; treason even to speak of. Even now, it was treason to suggest that clones could be traitors. It was a heavy burden for the troopers who'd been with the 501st and even more so, the 212th; who had known Slick as a friend and capable sergeant.

"…everyone else. I won't forget what was done and I won't forgive Slick. But I won't hate you."

Chopper glanced down at the red Geonosian sand then again at the trooper who had once been Slick. "Forget trying to go back to your past. Go on from here. And be careful."

Chopper knew he couldn't have said that Before. Before Rex and the 501st, before Commander Tano and the brothers Fives and Echo. Even before Kev or Caber or Coruscant, he couldn't have told Slick to 'go on from here'. Without the touch of Senator Amidala on his hand, or Ash's first inspection of his scars or Riyo's total acceptance of him as he was, he couldn't have told his old sergeant to 'be careful'.

Chopper leaned back against the stone as he slid his deece out of the holster. This was a war zone. He was ready and had volunteered for night watch.

Chopper knew himself for a good trooper, trusted by his command, respected by his cohorts. Captain Rex had given him a squad of good men to train and they had all survived this battle. He had Commander Tano as a brother by choice and the very best of good friends, both civilian and GAR, men and women, clone, Jedi and civilian. He had a lady love who saw his strengths and not his scars. For a clone trooper, for what he was, Chopper had riches beyond belief.

The other trooper sighed deeply, put his good hand over his shoulder, sore from both the original dislocation and the cure, then turned and melted back into the ruddy darkness of Geonosian evening.

As Chopper watched the other trooper move away, he could feel his scars – the fibrous tissue gnarled in his flesh and kerned in his mind – changing, unknotting, and become simply healed lines on his body.

Simply lines in the story of his life.

Simply lines on his skin.

Nothing more.

Happy New Year...

I couldn't resist giving you two chapters today. It seemed fitting to end Scars today.

I hope you've enjoyed the evolution of Chopper from a frightened, insubordinate rookie into the trustworthy, capable man he's become. I had a wonderful time writing (and re-writing) his story. While I would like to continue his story after Geonosis II into Order 66, it's time for me to rest. I have two other stories I'm working on - Echo after Order 66 and his release from the Citadel (Confinement & Escape) and Haruu II. Haruu was about a group of troopers, imprisoned for various reason but mostly for insubordination to Order 66 and 37, their escape and integration into civilian society. Haruu II is these ex-trooper civilians fighting against the Empire as civilians and men with families. These stories have been patiently waiting for me to finish with Chopper's story.

Better by Laloga has been referenced several times in this story (and will be referenced in the epilogue). It is excellent reading and fits right into Scar.

My story Going Home Again, while written before Scars and with a few minor differences could fit into Scars as well.

There will be a few epilogues - about Order 66.

As always, enjoy and review.

Thank you for reading.