"Acclamator is docking to the main port later than scheduled." Sparky said as greeting.
The rest of Gundark were huddled around one of the many tables in the vast dining hall of Tipoca City. Both Riptide and Sparky had their heads buried in a datapad, the latter placing their tray down and sliding onto the bench. Sparky it appeared, had since raided the armoury and gotten a rangefinder for his helmet, alongside a ranking pauldron. It was missing the rest of the neck guard that Riptide wore, but it was a decided difference in order to clearly denote the difference in rank.
"We're still down an entire regiment, though word is high command is considering splitting other depleted legions that haven't yet been assigned a commander. Our tanks are awaiting on Coruscant for us too, their regiment is already getting familiar." Riptide confirmed.
"Did we decide on a paint yet?" Anvil asked mid-mouthful. Spooky gave him a look of distain.
"Silver. It's a colour strongly associated with the homeworld of our Commander and General." Riptide confirmed, absentmindedly eating as he continued to tap away on his datapad.
"God you think we've officially lost him to that pad?" Elf asked. Anvil snorted in amusement.
"Don't know what you're laughing at, we have full parade honours for our passing out ceremony." Sparky said.
"Kriff." Spooky muttered, Elf and Anvil nodding in agreement.
They ate their meal in mostly silence, or as silent as it can be in a massive chamber full of non-ranking clones. After finishing their meal, the rest of the squad left to gather their kit from their bunks in the barracks, whilst Riptide had to attend to captain's duties.
Namely, meeting their new medic, and medical staff.
As their previous sergeant was lost on Geonosis, and Riptide was now the squads ranking officer, they were now short a man, and they didn't have a medic. So, he had found one being assigned to the Three Seventy Fourth, and was unashamedly poaching him from the incoming roster.
Their main standout had been them commandeering an aid station from the battle of geonosis, and blasting droids whilst administering medical care to his patients. That sort of tenacity was what he needed.
The door behind him opened, to the makeshift office he had, which was really just the observation balcony.
"Fletcher reporting for duty sir!" Came the crisp, regulation standard greeting.
Riptide turned back to him. "I'm Captain Riptide, you're now a part of my squad. As far as I'm concerned, when we're in private, you can lose the formality."
The medic instantly relaxed, all tension leaving their shoulders. "Yes sir."
"As for why I requested you, my squad doesn't have a medic, and I'd rather we had a medic than not." Riptide explained.
"Fair enough sir." Was the shrugged response.
"If you go to barracks B-4 you can find the rest of the squad, namely Spooky, Anvil, Elf and Sparky. We are mustering on the northern docking pad for transport on to an acclamator this afternoon, after passing out."
"Understood sir."
"Dismissed, Fletcher."
The door slid close, leaving him on the balcony again.
Even more reports had come in. Their starfighter wing had been picked, and they were in preparations to transport to Coruscant alongside. His chrono beeped.
More training. Ugh.
The harsh and jarring sound of a slam made the fresher clones in the large hanger flinch at the force of the impact.
Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to secure a secluded space for Riptide's training, so Alpha 17 had merely shrugged and began his brutal training regime in clear view of the cadets and regular troopers going about their duties.
Riptide groaned and rolled over, spare hand massaging his back through the plastoid he wore, he had certainly felt that take down.
"It was a decent try, kid." Sometimes he forgot just how old Alpha 17 was.
"Either way, hurts like a kriffer." He groaned, pushing himself back up.
Fordo simply loosened up his arms again, and dropped into ready position for their wrestling match. Riptide copied him, but was ready for Fordo's advance. He caught the ARC in a headlock, digging his heels in to not be pushed backwards and to the floor, he dropped an elbow into the senior trooper's kidney, which got a good grunt of pain.
It was going well, until it wasn't.
Suddenly, his feet were off the floor, as Fordo had opted to pick him up, with the arms that were wrapped firmly around his waist.
Twisting with all the momentum he could, he managed to pivot himself to avoid another horrible slam, and also managed to flip Fordo over, who quickly lost his footing.
Dropping elbow first into his abdomen, Riptide quickly pulled the ARC's arm into an arm lock, where he was forced to tap out.
"Good job Rip'." Alpha congratulated.
He was too busy gasping for air, sat beside Fordo who was recovering from the full body weight of Riptide being delivered into his chest via elbow.
"Only took you four tries." Fordo managed to get out, lifting himself to a sitting position.
"Got there in the end." Riptide shrugged.
"Still gotta do ur parade honours later." Alpha grumbled.
"Ugh don't remind me. Half the legion is missing too."
"You got stitched up, being a captain. ARC's the way to go, outside the command structure." Fordo bragged.
Riptide stood and fixed his armour, reholstering his knife into the shoulder strap of his pauldron.
"Got your paints yet?"
"On the acclamator, we're going with silver." Riptide replied, fixing his chest plate.
"Reflective?" Alpha asked, a sudden shift to an interrogative tone.
"No, of course not." Riptide quickly defended.
"Good."
Riptide's comm flashed, he thumbed the incoming call.
"Riptide here." He answered.
"We're finishing arrangements for passing out sir, the acclamator's descending from orbit currently." Sparky informed him.
"On my way." He replied, cutting the call.
He gave a fleeting salute to the two trainers, and sprinted out of the hangar. He dodged a few cadets and floating AZ medical droids, much to their vocal chagrin, and rounded the corner for the legion's passing out hangar.
Slowing to a purposeful walk, and squaring his shoulders, he walked into the room. He immediately saw the troopers stand a tad straighter, his armour clearly giving away his rank.
He walked down the centre of the stationary formation, and came to a stop besides Shaak Ti and Zoë Nightshade.
"General, Commander." He greeted, before spinning to face the half legion.
"Captain Riptide, you've done well getting up to speed." Master Ti complemented.
"Thank you, General. Are we ready to begin?"
In lieu of replying, she stepped forward to the front of the assembly. Behind them, the ramp into the acclamator's main hold settled into the platform.
"Troopers of the Three-Seventy-Fourth." The Jedi master began, projecting her voice.
"I have no doubt that you will command yourselves with honour. I myself have witnessed the commitment you have to both your brothers, and this republic."
Not one shifted as they stood in parade formation, long rifles high.
"Some of you have tasted battle before, on the sands of Geonosis." She paused. "Some of you have not."
"Some of you have lost brothers." Another pause. "Some of you are still surrounded by them."
"When you board that cruiser, and you see the galaxy, you will be challenged, in ways that you could have never prepared for."
"The road ahead is long, arduous and unforgiving. But know you do not walk it alone, you carry the spirits of your brothers with you, both alive and living. And I know that you will carry them well."
She finished, stepping back in line with Riptide and Zoe, as the former took his place and stepped forward.
"Legion!" He shouted. "Quick march!"
The thunder of bootfalls soon filled the hangar, as the legion marched in perfect uniform into the bay of the acclamator.
The three officers stood and watched their ascent. For some, it would be the last time they would step foot on Kamino.
The journey to the core would take three days.
At their captain's orders, the three seventy fourth had done little to unpack from the transport crates of which the vast majority of the gear was in, and it was still stacked high in the main hold of the transport vessel. Only braved by the neediest of clones who had to retrieve something from within.
"By Kamino I forgot how much parade sucked." Elf whined.
"That's because you can't sit still." Sparky grumbled back from atop his bunk, he was only in his blacks and had a datapad in his had, like he had for the last fifty two hours since his promotion.
"Not his fault his foetal chamber had a leak." Anvil poked.
"It did not!" Elf retorted indignantly.
"Would explain a lot." Spooky thought aloud, doing well to suppress a grin.
"Yeah, well I'll show you a leak you bantha Kriffing-" Elf's slew of curses was cut off by the door to their barracks opening, another trooper in the door.
"Gundark squad?" The newcomer asked tentatively.
"Yeah, what'd you need?" Sparky asked, sitting up.
"My names Fletcher, the captain said I'm your new medic?"
"Oh yeah!" Sparky remembered, sliding off from his bunk. "He pinged me a message earlier about it, since we were technically a man short after losing our sarge on Geonosis."
"Feels like ages ago." Anvil muttered.
"Yeah maybe it does. Anyways, That's Spooky, Elf, Anvil, and I'm Sparky. Captain Riptide is holed up somewhere on the ship try to work through data reports for an entire command structure, so don't expect him to be here anytime soon. Bunk on the end is the free one." Sparky introduced, waving around the room.
Fletcher nodded and dumped his kit bag at the foot of the bed, stripping down his armour. His squad had no official duties, so there was no need for it.
"How long was the trip again?" Elf asked.
"Three days." Spooky replied.
"Kriff me." Elf lamentingly drawled.
"I don't think there's a woman in the galaxy who would, Elf." Anvil jabbed.
In quick counter fire, a hydrospanner flew across the room and bounced off Anvil's head.
"Ow!"
The door slid open, revealing the captain. "Throw that thing again and I'll shove it in your Shebs." Came the idle threat. "Besides I've got something better."
"Captain." Fletcher greeted.
"Can the rank stuff. In here I'm just Riptide." He deflected, setting down two large buckets of paint. "I managed to scrap up some paint for our armour. Luckily, silver paint is used in maintenance so we are never going to run short of the stuff."
"Any ideas in mind?" Elf asked.
"Well, as we are the captain's squad, we get permission for special designs, so feel free to go crazy." Sparky informed them.
Riptide sat down with a brush and gave his helmet a particularly angular paint job. He firstly painted the ridge of his helmet in their trademark silver, something as to which all of the squad did.
He then had two symmetrical lines come down from either side of the helmet ridge, cross his visor, and meet at a point on his voice modulator. He continued by colouring his pauldron, and his shin guards and vambraces, finishing with colouring his ARC chest armour.
Sparky, much to the squads enjoyment, had leant into his name sake, and had decorated up his arm guards with a stylised lightning patten, which had also been pasted into the cheeks of his helmet, almost giving the appearance of mandibles.
Spooky had also coloured the ridge of his helmet, and his armour took a more standard approach. A solid colouring on his shin guards, vambraces and chest plates, with a horizontal streak of paint over his visor, and a vertical line down from that to the bottom of his helmet, almost like the familiar T shaped visor of their progenitor, Jango.
Anvil had taken to painting flames up his limbs, they artistic grey waves held a surprising amount of intricate detail for one considered so brutish with their approach to most combat situations, the same flames also lined the bottom of his helmet.
Elf had put the classic republic Cog on his shoulder plate, and had an array of vertical lines over his helmet, almost as if he was behind some prison bars. Solid colouring also filled his limb armour and there was a splash on his chest plate.
Fletcher's was probably the most conservative. The red medic symbol was clearly marked on his shoulders, not that it would stop him from getting shot, it was more to let other troops know he was a medic. He coloured in the sunken cheeks on his helmet, the smaller triangle on the bottom of his helmet, and the antenna ridge at the top of it.
The oh too familiar hum of a lightsaber filled the lone store room, secreted in the aft of the ship, in an empty store room, Padawan Zoe Nightshade practiced her Kata's, following through the forms her master had refined, that had been taught to her by the trainers from the temple. Her silver saber twirled around her hands as she ran through her forms.
Her family on Olympia had explained that sword forms were more than just movements. They had detailed an artistic breakdown of expression, passion, and intent. She remembered being taught by her mother, before her coming of age ceremony. She finished her form two kata's, as the door slid open. Her newly painted captain stood, head buried in a datapad and a hovercrate following behind him.
"Can I help you Captain?" She asked, stowing her lightsabre and affxing it to her belt.
The burst of shock and surprise echoed in the force, and the clone's head snapped up.
"Uh - I, no ma'am. This was crate was given to me by Alpha-17 and Fordo. I was going to open it in private in-case it was some trap." He explained, a hand rubbing the back of his neck in half embarrassment.
She motioned him forward, and the door slid shut behind him as the crate settled in the centre of the room. She stood back as the captain knelt and entered the crate passkey, and watched as a hand slowly drifted towards one of the pistols holstered at his side. There was a puff of air as the crate depressured, and the lid slid off. Inside, was a grey staff.
The padawan frowned at the contents, as the captain retrieved it, examining the ridged centre. Gliding his hands over it, he thumbed a central switch. Both ends of the staff snapped to life, a crackling energy tipped both ends, it was an electro staff.
He gave it a twirl before both her and his comms all chimed, with contact from the bridge.
They had arrived.
Their pilot, who Riptide had learnt was called Pivot, had opened the doors to the gunship the moment they had ducked beneath the cloud cover, giving them both a perfect view over the planet laden metropolis.
Zoë had seen the sight a number of times, but smiled nonetheless as she could feel the sense of wonder coming from the soldier beside her.
"Have you never seen Coruscant before captain?" She asked as they swung towards the temple.
"Only in the training holos sir. It's much more different than seeing it in person." He replied, eyes affixed on the durasteel horizon.
"Well, don't be too blinded by its wonder. Only the surface levels are this clean. The further down you get the more unpleasant." She explained.
"Speaking from personal experience sir?" He asked tentatively.
"Yes." Was her solemn reply.
He dropped the conversation.
"Jedi Temple just ahead sirs." Came the pilot over the intercom.
Slowly the ship came to a gentle rest on an extended landing platform. His shoulders tensed at seeing all the robed figures inside the temple, some of which looked over at interest. He supposed some had never seen a clone before.
"Come on, let's go find my master." The padawan breezed past him, only stopping to straighten out her robes a tad.
"Sir, I'm not sure it's appropriate for me to come in." He tried to protest.
"Nonsense, you're here with me to meet my master. Come along." She said, her tone becoming a tad more authoritative. He knew an order when he heard one.
Removing his helmet, he followed her through the hangar. He could feel the pairs of eyes on him, from both the maintenance staff and the Jedi.
Entering the hallway, they passed a group of children in Jedi robes, walking in a neat group and being lead by an elder Jedi who was walking with a cane.
A low woah was let out from a smaller Zabrak child, who looked up at him in wonder. He did his best to give no outward reaction, but he knew the baby Jedi caught his eyes flicker onto him.
The deeper they got into the temple the more antsy he got. The looks didn't dull, for every chamber and hallway they passed through he managed to garner even more intrigued glances and studying eyes.
Finally, they entered a room that he was a bit more comfortable in, a command centre. A few Jedi were present, the tall and dark skinned one just oozed authority, and was talking to another Jedi, one who he had last seen near death in a downed consular class cruiser.
"Ah padawan, nicely ahead of schedule." She greeted. The commander bowed back in greeting. "And you brought a clone."
Riptide couldn't decipher the tone in her voice as he made her observation of him.
"Whats your name soldier?" She asked, the elder Jedi she was speaking too also now gazing at him.
He snapped to a crisp salute. "Cee-Tee Twenty Four Twenty Six, ma'am." The commander sent a look of confusion.
"Do you not have a name Captain?" The dark skinned Jedi asked.
"Uh, Riptide, sir." He replied tentatively, uncomfortable with all the scrutinising eyes on him.
"You don't need to be so tense, Riptide. We aren't as, harsh, as the kaminoans." He eased.
"Regardless, Master Windu was just informing me of our mission." The older female Jedi explained.
"Indeed, you are to be deployed to Thyferra. Droid forces are making a push for it, and we cannot afford to lose the planet by any means."
"We'll get going right away." Master Artemis assured Windu.
"May the force be with you Master."
Boom!
Mostly a transit episode, which somehow ended up being the fic's longest so far. Confusing.
But the boys get their second combat deployment next chap, I wonder who will die?
Leave suggestions in the comments for who should die and who should be replaced!
Stay safe;
Duduehehe