Hondo slips through a door to the side of the hallway, disappearing as it swooshes shut behind him. A handful of pirates guide the clones further down the corridor until they reach another door.
"Hope you don't mind, but we're all sharing," one of the pirates states in a strong, weequay accent. The rest of the pirates chuckle lightly before entering the room.
The quarters seem like most clone barracks with beds, lockers and so on with only one stark difference - the smell! Musty sweat mixed with some form of spirits bombards the clones, causing Gearshift to gag.
"Anyone else smell that?" Waxer questions, pinching his nose.
"It's the pirates," Boil grumbles, "Better get used to it."
The pirates stare suspiciously at the clones as they accommodate to their quarters, setting down some of their gear. Cody and Helix settle into their bunks without complaint, but the others stay awake, sitting on their beds.
"I'd rather be back on Geonosis!" Boil exclaims, flailing his arms out in protest, "At least there we didn't have to stick it out with pirate scum!"
"You can say that again," Gearshift grumbles.
One of the pirates approaches the clones; a lime green bandana covers his head, although a plaited braid pokes out the back. He wears a white shirt and navy breeches stained with various marks. Rubbing his palms together, he begins to speak, "Hondo says you're welcome to join us." He points out towards the door. A group of pirates in the back snigger at him as he speaks.
"We're fine," Boil reaffirms, a hint of annoyance laced in his words.
"Hondo doesn't like it if we don't entertain our...guests."
"I said," Boil repeats, rising from his bed, "we're fine!"
Waxer pulls at Boil's shoulder, motioning for him to sit down. "Relax, Boil."
The pirate waves his arm towards the door. "Have it your way, but I'm gettin' a drink."
"Come on, he's just trying to be friendly. Besides, I haven't got anything better to do." Waxer shrugs his shoulders.
"Fine," Boil mutters, "but if the commander asks, this was all your idea!" he points at Waxer accusingly.
"Maybe I'll get get a real drink. Don't worry, Waxer, I'm sure they'll have caf," Gearshift chuckles, "just for you!"
"Spiced caf," Boil adds.
"Very funny, Gearshift," Waxer grumbles.
Waxer leads the way, following the pirate out of the room; Gearshift and Boil trail close behind them. The hallway opens up into a dimly-lit room with a square window over an open bar. Pirates dance carelessly on tables spread around the room, while others heave over the floor.
"A round for the newcomers," the pirate leading them shouts at the barman. He sits down at the bar, grabbing a drink. "If they can handle it."
"Alright, Slakk, but it's going on your tab!" The pirate at the bar pours three more shots of a strange green liquid.
Boil is the first one to try it; wrapping his hand around the glass, he chugs it back all in one go. Slamming the empty glass against the table, he continues, "Not bad for pirate osik!"
"Let me try." Waxer reaches for a drink. His face contorts in disgust as the liquid flows down his throat. "That pirate brew sure does pack a punch."
Gearshift outstretches his arm for the last drink, but Boil elbows it out of the way, and speedily downs the drink himself.
"Looks like they're gonna need another round," Slakk comments.
Gearshift claims the next round for himself; he swings back three shots in a row seemingly effortlessly. Another round comes, and another. The clones keep drinking as the barman keeps serving.
After a few moments, a drowsiness begins to fall over Waxer, dimming his senses. He massages his fingers against his temples. "Hey, guys, s-s-should we really be d-doing this? We're on a mission."
Boil knocks back another drink of the weequay pirate brew. "Take it easy, W-Waxer."
"What mission? I don't see a mission," Gearshift scoffs. He slaps his hands on both their shoulders. "I think we need another round, right...Skab?"
Slakk nods, whispering to another pirate beside them.
Already the affects of the drink begin to effect the clones. Boil's head begins to spin as he starts to lose focus. Even Gearshift starts swaying back and forth, unaware of his lack of balance.
Immediately, the room vibrates. The ship tips sideways, sending the clones and pirates flying across the room. Red lights flash around them; alarms ring, piercing the silence. Gearshift pushes himself off of the wall, trying to get to his feet.
"What's goin' on?" Slakk shouts, his voice rippling across the room.
The doors burst open; another pirate enters the tilted room. "We're under attack. The engines are fried - we're goin' down!"
Fleeing pirates flood the room as the ship rocks back and forth.
"Come on!" Boil commands, "Get to cover!"
Gearshift and Waxer swiftly follow, ducking behind the bar.
The ground shakes violently, swaying from side to side. Orange flames fly past the window as the ship rips through the atmosphere of an unknown planet. The ship collides with the surface; metal clanging ricochets off the walls as it spins along the ground.
The clones grab the bar, steadying themselves. Bottles fly off the shelves, smashing against the floor. Tankards and cups fling back and forth. A spray of mud blankets the window, blocking any view of the planet.
Gradually, the ship slows, coming to a stop.
"Waxer, Gearshift, on me," Boil shouts, evacuating the bar. The others follow him, headed towards the brig. Waxer grips his stomach tightly, struggling to move after the drinking. Cody and Helix join them, blasters drawn.
"Brig's this way." Slakk sprints past them and further down the hall.
The brig door lies open; frayed wires spark, flashing light around the room. Hondo staggers forwards, resting on a wall for support. "Separatist scum! It takes more than a few cannons to kill me!"
"Separatists?" Waxer questions.
"Great," Boil mumbles, "seppies - just what we needed."