#27 Longest Hour
In an instant, the troopers had blasters in their hands and the firefight picked up where it had left off. Goose felt the carcass of the dead AT-TE shudder as enemy plasma punched into it, but it held firm. The high walls around the courtyard magnified the noise of the blasterfire, and it became almost deafening. She tried standing up, thinking she might at least help the troopers reload their weapons, but felt such a wave of dizziness when she did that she decided it would be best for her not to move.
Head wounds could be very tricky. One moment, you could seem perfectly fine, and the next…well, you could be in a coma. Or dead. Goose had seen enough such cases to understand that. She was also starting to feel drowsy again, now that the adrenaline had worn off, and it filled her with dread. In a bid to stay awake, she tried to focus on the sounds coming from the battle so she could guess what was going on.
Despite her best efforts, all the sounds mingled into one disjointed cacophony of noise. There could not have been too many droids, however, because the six troopers were managing to hold their own without too much trouble. That was odd, because she'd well over one hundred droids march past her into the monastery; that was more than enough to take out six clones and an injured surgeon. So why weren't they?
The more she thought about it, the less it made sense. Those battle droids had already decimated and entire company. A mere handful of troopers should be no problem, unless…they were keeping them alive for some reason. As bait? Maybe they thought Skywalker was going to come back for them. If that was the case, then this was a trap. But…what if there was a simpler answer? Battle droids weren't all that smart, so perhaps they were so stupid they couldn't figure out what to do without that Ventress lady calling the shots.
After another few minutes, the shooting stopped again. The troopers climbed back down, tossing aside spent plasma magazines and reloading their blasters with new ones. A few took off their helmets, but only long enough to cram down a ration cube or wipe the sweat off their faces. It was only then that Goose realized just how tired all of them had to be. None of them had probably had any rest since as far back as Christophsis.
"Any word from General Skywalker yet?" a trooper asked.
"I haven't been able to raise him again," Rex answered a little wearily. "He said he'd come, though. He'll be here."
Goose couldn't tell who he was trying harder to convince, the trooper or himself. Skywalker should have gotten off-planet with the Huttlet by now. If he was still in the monastery, he would be more focused on getting away from Ventress and her droids than coming back to help them. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud boom, followed by a low rumbling noise. It came from the far side of the monastery, and all seven of them turned around to see a thick plume of smoke curling into the atmosphere.
"Hope that doesn't have anything to do with Skywalker," Goose muttered mostly to herself.
Then their respite was over, and the shooting resumed once more. It continued in that manner for another hour; with sporadic shootouts that lasted only a few minutes, then a short break before it started up again. During the brief lulls, the troopers had started trying to reinforce their position with scrapped droids and anything else they could drag in without breaking cover. Goose found herself staring out at the courtyard, although it was no longer recognizable as a place of peaceful contemplation.
Her thoughts had gotten hazy as the time passed, and it was getting harder to concentrate. More often than not, her mind would start drifting away, and she'd nod off before jerking awake again. If he had a spare moment, Coric would try talking to her to keep her awake, but most of the time he was too busy. The battle droids faded away in importance in her mind, and all Goose felt was a growing dread of falling asleep and never waking up.
It didn't help that it was getting late in the day, and twilight was beginning to set in. The sunset had been nice to look at, but Goose feared that as soon as it was dark she would lose the fight against her drooping eyelids once and for all. And it seemed she was right, because she started to doze again even before the sun had completely gone down, and would have fallen asleep if not for Coric shaking her awake.
"Come on, Goose," he said with worry in his voice. "You have to stay awake."
She jolted back to wakefulness, blinking her eyes rapidly to clear the sleep out of them.
"I wasn't sleeping," Goose grumbled defensively. "I was just…resting my eyes."
Coric snorted but said nothing in return. He settled down tiredly next to her and leaned heavily on the AT-TE behind them. They sat in silence, none of the troopers saying anything that could be heard out of the privacy of their own helmet. Goose felt her thoughts start to wander away again. This time, her mind began to muse on how strange all of this was. Everything had taken on a surreal quality, and whether that was just the head wound talking, she wasn't quite sure.
"Sometimes I feel like my entire life is someone else's dream," she blurted randomly, her words running together as she spoke, "and then I wonder whose dream it is, and if they're enjoying it or not."
Six helmeted heads turned to look at her, no doubt all sharing the same dumbfounded look. It was likely they all thought she'd lost her mind. Even Goose wasn't quite sure where that had come from, or why she'd let it out of her mouth.
"You know," Coric said carefully, "delirium is a sure sign of serious head trauma."
Goose shot him a glare, although he probably couldn't see it in the gathering dusk. "Thank you for that life-changing insight."
She hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but being reminded of the ticking time bomb inside her head really didn't help her mood. They lapsed into silence once again, and it was only broken by the sounds of the troopers as they moved around restlessly. Goose probably would have been restless too, if only she had enough energy to move at all.
"Shouldn't General Skywalker be here by now?" a trooper asked, breaking the long pause.
He was right. Rex had talked to Skywalker just after escaping to the courtyard, well over an hour ago, and he should have come already even if he'd been on the other side of the monastery. A Nautolan moon-snail on crutches could have covered the distance faster than that.
"I still haven't been able to raise him," Rex finally answered. "Maybe he found a way off-planet and he's too busy to comm us."
That wasn't the least bit reassuring to anybody. For all they knew, Skywalker was dead, the Huttlet was recaptured, and the mission was a failure. Personally, Goose preferred to believe that Skywalker was halfway to Tatooine already, and that he'd sent reinforcements to come back for them. It was a foolish hope, of course, but it seemed she really was becoming delirious after all, because she managed to convince herself it was true.
Time passed by slowly, and Goose noticed the troopers becoming more agitated with every passing minute. Belatedly, she realized they were so on edge because the droids were overdue. The last little shootout had ended more than ten minutes before, and the droids had never given them more than five minutes at most until they attacked again. Something had changed.
"Hey, what's going on with the droids out there?" Goose asked uneasily.
Nobody answered her for a long while, and that only served to heighten her apprehension. Were they discussing it over their helmet comlinks, with the external audio off so she couldn't hear? Or maybe it was just so bad no one wanted to tell her.
"The droids used to attack in small waves, and that we could handle," Rex said at last. "Could be they've wised up, or maybe Ventress is in command again. Either way, the droids have started massing inside the monastery, outside of our range. Must be close to sixty or seventy in there, by now, and it looks like they're preparing for a frontal assault."
His words had the instant effect of chilling her to the bone. Six troopers against sixty droids. Frontal assault. They didn't stand a snowball's chance on Mustafar, not with these odds. No wonder the troopers had gotten so antsy. They'd had to sit there, helpless to do anything, as they watched the droids accumulate just outside of their reach. Once the tinnies were ready, they would be steamrolled just like they had been inside the monastery.
So, they were all going to die. How nice. If morale had been low before, it suddenly took another plunge. The mood became even more depressed, and Goose found her thoughts turning to the flask in her back pocket. She had been saving it for a certain-death moment, hadn't she? After an entire day of thinking she was going to die, it seemed like it was finally going to happen. Besides, if the droids didn't kill her, the hematoma might.
She started reaching for her back pocket, but stopped herself short. It was probably just her being delirious again, but for some reason it didn't feel right. Goose had been tempted to take a drink a couple times before, when she'd been in a tight spot, but she hadn't yet. And since she'd always pulled through in the end, if she gave in now it would be like giving up altogether. Like she was accepting death.
On top of all of that, alcohol was a blood thinner, and I would just mean more bleeding her in head. And a coma, in all likelihood. Goose still had some dim hope for survival, so in the end she stubbornly denied herself the Corellian whiskey, no matter how much of a relief it would have been. Satisfied with her moral decision, she tried to distract herself from the looming threat by searching for the first stars in the slowly darkening sky.
Her mind wandered away once more, and this time her thoughts turned to Nubia, her home planet. Back inside the monastery, when she'd tried to think about home she'd been so panicked that even the name of the street she'd lived on escaped her. But now she remembered it easily. Angmalio Street. How could she have forgotten? Goose felt oddly relaxed this time around. One could even go as far as to say she was at peace. Almost. She hadn't given up on living quite yet.
Goose nearly didn't notice Rex, who hadn't allowed himself more than a moment or two of rest in the past hour, sit down next to her. He was quiet for a moment, as if trying to collect his thoughts.
"Doctor, I…" he trailed off uncharacteristically. "I wanted to thank you. For staying," he said a bit awkwardly, but with genuine sincerity. "You didn't have to. In fact, you probably shouldn't have. But you cared enough to stay, for us, and we all appreciate it. I wanted you to know that."
For a long moment, Goose wasn't sure what to say. She'd never anticipated being thanked, especially not after being such a useless burden most of the time. But she could tell he really meant it, and that he honestly hadn't expected her to stay behind. She hadn't missed the way he'd said for us like he couldn't quite believe she'd cast her lot in with some clones. Goose was touched, and she felt her chest tighten a bit, not quite sure what she could possibly say in response.
"Thank you, Rex," she said earnestly. "It's been my honor."
And that was the truth.
Rex nodded to her, then stood and started issuing final orders to his men. When he was done, a hush fell over them all, and it was suddenly so quiet she could faintly hear the metallic scraping of battle droids as they moved around. They weren't marching yet, but they soon would be. Goose wished someone would talk again, about anything, if only so she wouldn't have to keep hearing the creaking of metal joints.
"You know, I'm starting to wonder why the Seps don't just call in an airstrike," Coric piped up almost lightheartedly, as if reading her mind. "There are only seven of us, and we're all huddled up in one place. Call in a vulture, and boom! We're all dead."
It was hardly a cheerful thought, but for some reason at that instant it was completely hilarious. The seven of them burst into insane laughter, the grim atmosphere melting away for the briefest moment while they vented their hysteria. Then, as abruptly as it began, it was over, and the mood became somber once again. It was odd, how when death was just around the corner they could bounce between hilarity and despair in little more than a minute.
Goose went back to looking at the sky, and saw that many more stars had come out as evening progressed into night. However, it was hard to see very many of them because there were so many thick clouds in the way. She squinted a little, trying to imagine that one of those miniscule points of light could be Nubia's sun, Nubus. Goose tried to recall its comforting glow from the memories of her childhood, but it did little to warm the cold feeling spreading through her limbs.
Then, among the stars and the night sky, she saw a small cluster of tiny streaks of red and green lights.
She thought for a moment that she'd finally begun hallucinating, but after staring at it for another minute in disbelief, she decided it had to be real. It hadn't been possible to see until the sky darkened, but there was a space battle happening in orbit around Teth. Goose felt a flutter of hope in her chest, and it took her a second before she could form the words to tell the troopers what she saw. They were so busy watching the battle droids, they hadn't thought to look to the sky.
"Coric, I think I know why they're not calling in an airstrike," Goose said a little breathlessly, pointing at the battle. "They're all too busy up there."
His gaze followed her fingers until he too saw the lights in the sky, and though he still wore his helmet, she could imagine the grin that split his features. Coric whooped loudly, and the other troopers looked up as well before joining in with a ragged cheer. Goose smiled to herself in the semi-darkness, relieved beyond measure but unable to shake the feeling of apprehension. With comms still jammed, there was no way to tell if they were actually winning.
Impenetrable clouds slowly rolled in, gradually obscuring the skirmish in the sky from view. As expected, the momentary elation wore off quickly, and the atmosphere of brooding restlessness settled back over the small group of survivors. An unnatural silence ensued, and even the droids seemed to have stopped moving around. Goose got the eerie feeling that this was the calm before the storm, the deep breath taken before plunging off the precipice.
Then the storm broke, and together they all fell into the abyss. She still couldn't see anything, but she could hear it all too clearly as the droids began to advance, marching as always with inhumanly synchronized precision. The blasterfire was erratic at first, when the battle droids were only just drawing into range, but it soon built up to the point where Goose could no longer separate the sound of one blaster from the next.
When the droids came close enough, the troopers began to lob what few grenades they'd managed to salvage from inside the AT-TE at the advancing enemy line. These brief explosions punctuated the indistinguishable cacophony for only a moment, hardly seeming to have affected the tinnies at all. It was impossible for Goose to know how many droids the clones had managed to destroy, but it just wasn't enough. They kept on coming.
And the troopers kept on fighting, doggedly standing their ground. Goose had felt a spike of adrenaline when the first shots rang out, but it had faded quickly and she listened almost impassively to the battle raging loudly behind her. She could smell the acrid smoke now, rising from fried circuits and burning machine oil, and she could see the deadly red enemy blaster bolts that went wide and streaked past the AT-TE.
Night had truly fallen now, though Goose could still see well enough by the garish light cast by the bolts of plasma that screamed through the air. An overwhelming tiredness had settled over her, and despite the near-deafening noise of the battle she could feel herself beginning to drift off once more. This time, she made no effort to fight it. Better to slip into a coma and let death take her in her sleep than to be shot by a battle droid.
Goose looked up at the sky once again, hoping that perhaps the clouds had moved and she could look up at the stars one last time. But the clouds were still there, and there were no stars to be seen. A soft sigh of disappointment slipped out of her, and she let her eyes slowly droop shut. Her senses dimmed, and the sounds of the battle took on a faraway, indistinct quality. After a while, they seemed to go away altogether.
Her eyes snapped open. The sounds had stopped. Not a single blaster bolt broke the unbelievable silence. Incredulous, Goose turned and looked up, thinking maybe the clones had been killed, and the droids had stopped because there had been no one left to fight. But all six troopers were still there, alive but probably all injured, staring grimly over their improvised battlements at the droids that surely remained.
"Surrender, Republic dogs," came the automated monotone of a battle droid.
Rex, his armor no longer recognizable as white for all the dirt and scrapes, stood so his head and shoulders were above the cover of the AT-TE. Goose wondered for a moment if he actually intended on surrendering.
"I wish you'd asked earlier," he replied, voice deceptively calm. "Because then, you wouldn't have been outnumbered."
He dropped back under cover as a shot ripped through where his head had just been, and the battle began again in earnest. Goose had no idea what he'd meant by that last bit. Was it some last act of bravado, or simply an attempt to throw off the droids? Or…maybe, just maybe, he was actually telling the truth.
She heard it just moments later – that familiar, unmistakable, utterly lovely drone of LAAT/i engines. The heavenly sound almost brought a laugh to her lips and a tear to her eye, except at this point she felt so weak Goose could manage no more than a vague smile. Then the gunships broke through the clouds, racing through the skies as green plasma spat from their ball turrets, and the grounded Separatist landing ship rumbled as it blew up before her eyes.
Although she struggled to keep her eyes open, Goose realized she would no longer be able to as whatever adrenaline was left in her ebbed away. Her body went limp and her eyes slid shut, and yet she clawed at consciousness, fighting to stay awake. The small part of her that could still think was angry – furious – that she could no longer fight off this exhaustion now that she was close, so close, to being rescued.
The ground shuddered beneath her as missiles pounded into the courtyard, no doubt targeting the droids, and Goose managed to flutter her eyes open one last time. She saw troopers in clean white and orange striped armor leap out of the gunships' troop bays, fast roping down into the fray. Then her vision blurred, the figures turning into streaks as the edges of her sight faded into black, and the darkness engulfed her.
A/N: I guess I should start off by saying I am SO sorry for not updating in... what has it been, six months? Lately I've been completely slammed with school and life, and a bit of writer's block, but I promise I haven't given up on the story. So... please forgive me, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter