Fifty three
"OK Echo, you clear in what we are about to do?"
"Yes, Marlo," he smiled shyly.
They had come to an understanding. Echo still didn't divulge any information regarding the Republic but he had forgone his relentless pursuit of trying to work out a way to escape. It was a captured soldiers right, to escape, but in his case, he would go after he got his new legs.
He never mentioned Freya. She was his, and his alone. At night he would think about her somewhere on Coruscant or Corellia with their child and how his disappearance must have affected her. He wasn't proud of it. Echo was racked with guilt at the situation he had left his girl in. Alone, pregnant and grieving. He had days, lots of days, where he would refuse to talk, spiralling into the depths of depression. It was only his programming which brought him back.
'Come on CT-21-0408. Pull it together.'
He would then push himself physically, trying to mentally gain control again. It worked more often than not. Marlo could see his personality snap back and they would resume the status quo which was their daily coexistence.
The Warden would still come.
Echo would hide in the cupboard and wait for him to leave, all the time closing his eyes tight and holding his ears so as not to hear the laboured breathing of his doctor during her incarceration.
Both prisoners, both desperate to escape.
But now the opportunity presented itself. The cybernetic legs had arrived from a CIS hospital via a contact on Oriis. Marlo knew she wanted the best for him, she was used to no less, and nothing the CIS had to offer was good enough.
She had cleared the area for the surgery. They would do it in the middle of the night when all the prisoners were locked away and asleep. Barring a riot, she would spend the five hours required to prepare the stumps and attach the new limbs.
Echo had easily produced a loop in the closed circuit camera feed. Being the wee morning hours meant no one would be watching, and if they did, there would be nothing to see.
"Remember, this will take a few days, barring any disaster in the prison where I need to use the tank. You'll be walking soon. You'll be two centimetres taller as well!"
He then smiled, a nervous one, but a smile none the less. He was scared, excited and impatient, all at the same time.
"Let's do this."
"Count back from ten for me Echo," she quickly grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze before she let go to depress the syringe.
"Ten, nine, eight, s-e-v-e-n, s – i – s…."
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"CT-5586, nickname Kix. Medic, 501st Legion. Commanding Officer CT-7567."
"Thank you CT-5586. Can I call you Kix?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"Tell me Kix, as a medic, what types of injuries do you see on the battle field?"
"Well, I guess it can range from anything to everything. Blaster burns are the most common which inevitably leads to abrasions caused by the ruptured armour penetrating the skin. The black bodysuits have some fire retardants incorporated in them, but nothing will completely prevent skin damage from a close range shot. Spinal injuries, they're the hardest to deal with. You only have a minute to make a decision, usually under fire to triage a patient. Once the decision is made you could inadvertently cripple a soldier by moving him. We try our hardest to get it right the first time, so as to minimize any more pain and suffering in the long-term. Head injuries include the full gambit. Brain trauma, which is ultimately a death sentence, through to spot blindness and deafness caused by a shell exploding, again at close range. If it isn't fixed in the Bacta, a soldier is useless to the army. There are just some injuries we can't fix. That's the hard part, and I've seen some terrible things. But, arr,[shaking head] watching a brother suffering, that, that is the hardest part of all."
"What happens to those soldiers that the Bacta doesn't fix?"
"Reconditioning back on Kamino."
"And what exactly is, reconditioning?"
"Well, we're not really sure. Men get shipped back to Kamino and are never heard from again. You'd think you would at least come across one or two, being put into desk jobs or ordinance, but they simply disappear. We have a theory but again, it's only that, a theory."
"Can you share with me what that theory is?"
"It's just surmising. Rumour has it that you get given the green needle."
"The green needle?"
"Yeah, you know the kind. Go to sleep and never wake up."
"Euthanasia?"
"That's correct. You have to remember that we're mass produced to serve a specific purpose. We are of no use to the Republic if we can't fight. Believe me, no one wants to get injured, we try our hardest not to get hit."
"How do you feel about that Kix, being a medic."
"How do I feel about it? I feel terrible, but there's nothing I can do about it. All I can do is focus on the men that I can help."
"How do the men cope with the aftermath of battle?"
"If we're lucky, we might get a few days back dirt side. Triple Zero, Coruscant. There's always the gym or the rec room. The men keep to their smaller groups there, listening to music, playing sambacc or reading. Sometimes you just want to sleep."
"Do you ever mix with the civilians?"
"No, not really. We're not allowed to leave the barracks unless we are heading to The Bunker which is a bar the GAR allows us to have. It's where we can have a drink and listen to live music."
"What about women?"
"What about them?"
"Well, are you allowed to fraternise with female civilians?"
"Some men do, there isn't a reg saying we can't. I guess the Kaminoans didn't think that we'd get the chance. I know a couple that have sought out and have female relations."
"Reg?"
"Regulation manual."
"Have you had a relationship with a woman?"
"No."
"Any reason?"
"No, just haven't had the chance to meet one. I spend most of my libo in the med bay, watching over new procedures, keeping an eye on the men in my unit. Making sure they are OK after what happened to them on the field."
"That's very noble of you."
"They're my brothers!"
"Do you speak Mando'a?"
"Sometimes. Mainly the Commando units do, we improvise with certain words."
"Like?"
"Mainly profanities. Mando'a is more earthy, guttural, it's in our DNA. Basic is just a language that is universally taught. More people speak Basic than Mando'a here on Coruscant."
"Can you tell me the significance of the markings and colours on your armour."
"Oh that? Yeah, well you gotta remember we all look exactly the same[laughs]. The tatt's and the amour marks is just a way we can stand out as individuals. It's fun painting the armour, coming up with a unique design. You wear the colour with pride. The 501st wear this blue" [intonates to his vambrance].
"What sort of food do you like to eat?"
"Oh, anything other than the calorie controlled rations we are given here."
"What do you mean by rations?"
"Well, it's all colourless and flavourless, but with the correct amount of protein and nutrients to keep us at peak performance. We aren't supposed to eat anything other than what we are given. It could mean life or death on the field."
"Can you explain further?"
"Well, the rations, or food, they give us is so genetically modified that it doesn't leave an odour in our excrement and urine. In the field, that smell may alert an enemy of our presence. It's for our survival, so I guess it isn't so bad."
"What would you like to eat?"
"Meat, red meat. That is a real luxury! Also something sweet, like chocolate and treats like that. We could eat them all day which is why, I suppose, they don' t let us have them. Ah, I can still remember the first time I had chocolate. It was wonderful [smiles]."
"Ma'am?"
"Ehem, excuse me. I would like to try some word association with you now."
"OK."
"War"
"Win"
"Peace"
"Um, I don't know"
"Work"
"War"
"Defeat"
"Enemy"
"Country"
"Kamino"
"Atin"
"Ha! Stubborn. Nice one Ma'am"
"Trust"
"Brother"
"Company"
"501st"
"Playground"
"Battlefield"
"Garden"
"Artificial"
"Enemy"
"Defeat"
"Aim"
"Win"
"Experience"
"Captain"
"Thank you Kix. We'll let you know when the article is being published. Your name will be removed from the publication for obvious reasons."
"Thank You Ma'am."
"Off the record Kix?"
"Ma'am?"
"Here," she opened up her bag and pulled out a wrapped bar of chocolate, "for you. Don't tell Hardcase you got it from me."
"Thank you Elin, I'll share it with the boys in the med bay."
He looked at the wrapped treat and smiled, and tucked it neatly into his utility belt as he nodded and left the room.
Elin continued to stare in front of her at the recorded interview with the medic.
They might have been bred to be ruthless on the battlefields, but in person she was struck at how innocent they were. Gentle, and almost childlike.
Instead of leaving, she opened her purse and took out her data pad and switched it on. She began typing away feverishly and it was three hours later before she stopped.
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