Another chapter, another day. About half-way through the arc. Like I said, its a short one.
Thanks again STARWARZMYLIFE, dieFabuliererin, and KatieBirdy for being my betas for this chapter.
The First of Many: Part Three
"Droid, are you picking up anything?"
"No, sir."
Coquer sighed. "Alright. Get more probes to help with the search, B1-259."
"Uh, sir I'm actually B1-853."
He closed his eyes at the correction. Of course, you are, he thought, sighing.
"Sorry." He tore his eyes from the hologram map of the planet. "I'm still trying to match the name with your...uh, faceplate?"
Was that the right terminology? Wait, was that racist to ask? Was that racist to think?
Could you even be racist to a droid?
"Understandable Commander. My creators—the Geonosians and Shakoans—designed us to be indistinguishable from each other. Cost efficiency."
Coquer grimaced. The droid's explanation was obvious and made perfect sense, but he couldn't help feeling a pang of pity from the causality of its tone. Droid or not, to downplay one's existence was...just sad.
"I see. Regardless, a commanding officer should know and differentiate between their troops."
His droid caretakers were quite adamant about remembering the names of others. Rudeness was unbecoming of an heir of a noble house. If only they knew he wasn't going to be one when he finally became of age. Probably wouldn't waste their time on him.
"If you say so, sir. I'll get more probes from our starship."
B1-853 left Coquer alone with his thoughts in the cockpit. He shook his head with a sigh. This was one of the many reasons why he preferred having living beings to work with rather than the likes of machines. They had personality, and more importantly, self-worth.
Anyways, he had more important matters to mull about. Like finding the band of pirates wreaking havoc against the Elom people, for example. At least he narrowed it down to three possible locations, thanks to the information provided by Amieto.
Oront, the capital of the Eloms; Sario, a minor trading city; and lastly, Urgrora, a simple town filled with families. All were located deep in the burrows underground. Unlike their neighbors, they preferred the simplicity and darkness of being beneath the soil, only breaching the surface to trade with the Elomin or embark on a pilgrimage. Of course, they were those nosey rebellious teenagers that wanted to see the skies that rarely welcomed them.
Sadly, that was when the scum strike.
Amieto didn't know the reasoning as to why the pirates were attacking the Elom, only telling him that they captured those that wandered a little too far from home. Never finding corpses, no signs of a struggle. Nothing.
Coquer assumed the worst—slavery. It was something pirates were known for.
Those vile beings.
He sighed, leaning backwards in his seat. Cupping his chin, he gazed intently at the hologram. He was getting distracted. Hating pirates would not provide a successful mission.
"Where the bloody hell are you camped at?" he muttered.
The pirate gang hopped between the three Elom settlements, never staying too long, and capturing what they needed before going to the next one. Sometimes they hit two at once to throw the inhabitants a curveball.
Cocky bastards.
If they frequent those three areas, they must be based somewhere close by. Pirates were lazy folks after all. The question was where?
"Sir."
"Hmm?" He didn't take his eyes off the map.
"We're receiving an incoming transmission from General Grievous. He's asking for an update."
Coquer had never heard of a General Grievous. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know much about the command structure of the CIS. Besides information about the invasion, TA-125 only gave him a brief overview of the navy and the types of droids onboard his fleet.
If the army ranking system were indeed similar to their navy counterparts, then this Grievous was on the same prestige as an admiral. If he was an admiral, then the request for an update would make perfect sense to Coquer. Strange asking for an update barely two standard days since the war began, but still understandable.
Regardless, this Grievous was still a higher ranking officer than he, despite being from a different branch. An order was an order.
"Inform the General that the Elomin has joined the Confederacy, and we are currently working on bringing the Elom into the fold." He tapped an area on the map, zooming in. "Elom would be ours two rotations from now. Three, if the Elom refuses my peace offering."
"Roger, roger."
He heard the dull clanks of the droid walking away. Finally, he could focus on finding the pirates.
The pirates seemed to favorite Oront over the other two settlements. Not surprising. It was the capital of their species, so there should be more of them located there. Coquer could use that information to his advantage. He could wait for the pirates to strike, perhaps even goading them to hit the capital, then tail the pirates back to their camp.
He shook his head at the idea. The extra probes he deployed should pick up something soon.
Unnecessary involvement of civilians would not inspire confidence in the locals about his proposal. And if there was a single civilian casualty, then Coquer might as well say goodbye for peace.
Perhaps he could issue his droids to conduct patrols around the cities.
Coquer tsked at his own awful plan. The pirates would simply moved on to lesser-known Elom cities and ravage them instead. It was best to have them hunt at known places.
"Um, Commander?"
Coquer heaved a long sigh. "Yes?"
"It's the General, sir. He is quite serious about talking to you."
Off all the—"Fine," he huffed. "Send the transmission to the cockpit."
The droid left. A few seconds later the hologram of the planet Elom fizzled and transformed into a towering droid donning a cape. Coquer arched an eyebrow at the machine's appearance. This was General Grievous? Coquer didn't know what he'd expected, but a droid definitely was not it.
"Uh, Grievous?" he asked.
The machine growled. "When you address me, Commander, you will do so with respect."
Coquer raised an eyebrow at the automaton's rudeness. Quite the arrogant droid. "My apologies, General. What is the reason for you contacting me?"
"The droid gave me an update on the battlefield." The droid coughed.
Wait, coughed? Coquer looked puzzled for a moment before the realization hit him. Grievous was a cyborg.
"On whose authority gave you the right to negotiate with the filthy inhabitants of the planet?" Grievous spat. "You were ordered to enslave their kind and put them to work in the mines immediately."
Coquer's eyes narrowed. Guess this cyborg was also following his so-called father's orders. "I won't do it. Not only is it against the law, but it's also immoral."
"Law? Morality?" Grievous laughed while Coquer frowned. "So fitting for a child playing soldier to spew such nonsense. War is about grinding the enemy into dust and following orders—both of which you are failing to do."
"I will accomplish my mission. This planet will belong to us," he hissed.
"That it will, but not by your hands." Coquer's eyes widened. "You will stand down and wait for someone who has a stronger stomach to take your place."
Removed from his command because he knew the difference between right and wrong? He balled up his fists, wishing he could strike the cyborg where he stood. Were all Confederate officers like this monster?
"As you wish, General," he gritted out through clenched teeth.
Coquer knew when to bow his head—to play the dutiful soldier he was trained since childhood to be. He could lash out and curse all he wanted but it wouldn't change the general's decision. It was set in stone.
"I guess you can follow orders." Grievous's chuckling turned to harsh coughs.
The hologram of the general phased out of existence, leaving a fuming Coquer in its wake. This changed things. Now he had more dire of a time limit. He expected his replacement would arrive in a rotation or two, around the time frame he promised Amieto he would be finished.
"259, 853, focus all probes around Oront. We're going to take a gamble." Coquer unclenched his fists.
"But, sir, didn't General Grievous say for us to stand down?" B1-259 said. Or was it B1-853? He wasn't sure—they both sounded the same.
"And I said when we left for the planet—" he turned to face them. "—any mission I'm assigned to will be completed. Last time I checked, I'm still assigned to take Elom. So follow your orders, droids."
The two droids spared a glance at each other—carrying a secret conversation with their optics—then returned their gaze to him. "Roger, roger."
Blood.
The metallic scent of blood flooded his flat nose, shaking him back into the conscious world. Small beady eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the darkness of night. He tried to stand but something was holding him down, binding him in place.
Where was he?
He remembered gazing upon the ships with his sister when the sun was waning down. After that, nothing. Just the black void of darkness.
Wait, his sister!
"Broig!" he rasped. "Broig, where are you?"
If anything happened to Broig, he didn't know what he would do. His sister was the only family he had left. She was the brightest of their borough, with talks of her being the next representative of it.
He tensed having heard a voice. It wasn't in any tongue he recognized. Another voice joined in, both sounded masculine. They continued to converse, paying him no mind.
He shifted his head to see who was speaking. A gasp left his lungs at the sight of them. A Weequay and a Nikto—pirates. He heard the pirates were kidnapping people, but he didn't think it would happen to him or Broig. Their homes were barely out of eye range for bloody sake!
"G—Gossof…"
Broig!
Gossof strained—large tusks dragging through the ground as he looked forward. His eyes went wide, breath clogged in his throat. His heart died at the sight.
"B—Broig..." he whimpered.
Broig, his sister—the last thing he had in this galaxy—laid before him, lacking all skin and fur. She laid only inches from him, covered in blood with flies hovered over her body.
What had they done to her?
"Broig," he cried. "Broig! Broig!"
No response.
Her eyes were dazed as her body was completely limp.
"Broig!"
Gossof roared and thrashed against his bindings. He'd kill them! He'd kill them all!
Tears flowed down his cheeks as rage enveloped him. He broke free from his constraints. But sadly, his freedom was short-lived. A sharp pain pierced his chest, followed by two more.
Gossof dropped to his knees. One of the pirates sighed, sounding more disappointed than anything else. The other cursed while hurriedly packing up the camp.
Gossof slumped to his side, his breathing came in short shallow gasps of air.
I have to make them pay. They killed her. They deserved death. I have to make them pay. I have to...make…them…
The last bit of oxygen left Gossof's lungs and body stilled.
Rage.
All Coquer was feeling was rage.
B1-259 turned to him. "Um, sir, now that we found them, what now?"
We kill them—slaughter them until there is nothing left. They will beg for mercy that will not come. They will pay for what they have done to the two Eloms.
He closed his eyes, taking in a calming breath. He couldn't act on emotions. Emotions get people killed. He wondered if the Elom knew what the pirates were doing with the captured. Most likely not.
"Follow them. We still don't know where their base of operations is." He faced the two droids. "Contact our flagship and have them send down a battalion of droids. Have some of them carry heavy armaments—we might need them."
853 turned to the controls to relay his orders, but 259 didn't. Coquer arched an eyebrow.
"What is it, 259?"
It looked at the monitor that had shown them the grizzly fate of the captured Eloms. It returned its gaze at him. "Sir, are you functioning properly?"
"What?"
"Well, when you were told about turning this planet's inhabitants into slaves, you acted odd—even to the General. And now you are acting odd again when shown what the pirates were doing to the Elom." It tilted its head to the side. "Does this have to do with your soul?"
Soul?
Oh, that was right. He did mention souls when threatening them on the bridge. He doubted the machine could fully understand what a soul was or what it represented.
"Yes, it does B1-259." He really needed to think of a nickname or something for his droids. Their serial number was too much of a mouthful to say. "It's...wrong to do such acts. Regardless of orders."
The droid slowly nodded. "I...think I understand, Commander."
B1-259 turned to its controls, issuing commands to the probes. Odd droid. Such awareness was...different to say the least. Never heard of a droid like them. He wondered if the rest of the droids under his command were programmed the same.
He walked to the cockpit and initiated a transmission. When first told about the pirate incursion, he thought it was a simple slavery sting. Now knowing the truth, he knew he couldn't in good faith tackle this situation alone. The people of the land deserved justice—justice by their own hand, not his. Serennian blood running through his veins demanded it so.
A hologram of a protocol droid came into existence.
"Oh, Commander Coquer—a pleasure to see you once more. We were about to inform you that the meeting with Leader Skona had been set."
"Send my thanks to Chieftain Amieto for her assistance in the matter." He bowed his head. "Unfortunately, I seek her assistance once more."
"I shall retrieve her at once, Commander."
It didn't take long for the Elomin chieftain to enter the transmission. The scowl on her face said enough of her feelings towards him. It was fairly warranted.
She spoke in her native tongue, sounding polite despite the hate in her eyes. The droid began translating. "What assistance do you seek, Coquer of the Confederacy?"
"I wish to give you the chance to help the Elom in taking revenge against the pirates."
Based on the interactions he had with the Elomin, their culture seemed to be centered around honor—much like his own. Amieto also seemed to talk well about the Elom, with no hint of hate when mentioning them in their conversation this morning.
It made sense to him. You have to live on the same planet after all. Best get along with your neighbors.
Amieto spoke with a grin. The first time he saw one from her.
Her droid nodded and faced him. "The chieftain wants to know what will you have us do? She's quite eager to fight the pirates."
Author's Note: The big reveal of the pirates intention has finally been revealed, and boy is Coquer pissed. What is his plan to get rid of the pirates? Well, you gotta stay tune to find out.
I hope I did Grievous justice in little cameo. He will be a bigger player down the road. I also hope you like the little interaction between B1-259 and Coquer. Writing scenes with battle droids is so much fun, way better than writing about clones.
I'm also looking for a new beta. If you're interested, send me a PM. Also let me know what you think of the arc so far. I aim to please, and I can't really improve without helpful inputs from you all.
Next update is October 20.
Till Next Time