Hello hello! A new project I had in mind since some time. And finally, I decided to write it! Hope you enjoy seeing 63 clones appear in MHA and try to survive...
With a twist...
... You will discover later in the chapter!
Hope you enjoy that story!
And now... Onward!
Chapter 1: A New World
/
CC-4142, nicknamed 'Lock', had long learned that the calmest moment of a boarding was the few seconds before the gunfire and the arrival of the enemy.
Not before, when men rushed to the weapon racks, when the sound of boots hitting the floor was omnipresent, when the alarm screamed its ominous melody, when sergeants and officers shouted orders left and right.
Nor after the boarding, where the cries of the wounded filled the corridors whose walls were marked with burnt marks where lasers hit them, and where bodies littered the floor at every turn, every intersection, both those of droids and those of brothers, friends, teammates, and where the atmosphere was the heaviest, the most oppressive, where sadness, mourning, and tears marked the faces hidden by helmets and visors, when brothers realized they had survived where others had perished. Where each brother realized he had lost even more. Where each realized anew that a defeat had been inflicted despite the victory.
No. It wasn't those moments. It was always that moment, when everyone stood tense, behind relative cover, their weapon pointed at the door leading to the enemy boarding bridge. Where each man tightened his grip on the handle of his weapon. Where the heart beat at its fullest, adrenaline filling the veins. Where sweat beaded on the forehead of every brother. Where each had a knot in their stomach, wondering if they would survive to fight another day, if they could help brothers who had lost everything to bear their losses...
The door opened. And the silence was shattered by the thunder of blaster fire. Lock squeezed the trigger of his DC-15S twice, noting mechanically that the advancing droids before him were B2s. His shots hit the foremost, marking its armor plates with crimson-black scars, which didn't stop it as the heap of scrap metal continued its advance, seeming to ignore the shots. The captain had to crouch against the corridor wall, avoiding the shots that grazed him so closely he felt the heat through his suit.
"-ACK!"
A cry to his left, and from the corner of his eye, he saw CT-7735-17 'Xoll' twitch before collapsing, a blaster shot having struck him in the heart, killing him instantly. Lock cursed and grabbed his blaster with one hand, pointing it again into the corridor and firing a single shot, hitting another SBD right in the head, which collapsed, destroyed, after taking two more unsteady steps.
He took cover again as the enemy ship's gangway made contact. General Eeth Koth's voice filled his helmet.
"Status Report."
He raised his wrist, activating his comlink, before replying.
"They're too many!"
He glanced down the corridor. Behind the first wave of droids, he saw a second advancing, and even distinguished the brown colors and the emotionless white optics of commando droids among the black shapes of the SBDs.
CT-1029 'Jonk' tried to retreat as the B2s dangerously closed in on his position, but collapsed as a shot pierced his back, piercing through his chest.
"Fall back to the escape pods, I'll handle Grievous here."
Lock looked at his comlink, incredulous. The general was asking them to retreat? Was he planning to deal with a whole boarding force at the bridge by himself?
"But... Sir! They're commando droids!"
He heard a metallic creaking on the other end of the line, he assumed the general was leaning on the holographic table he used to contact them.
"It doesn't matter now, just go!"
Despite the general's stern tone, he felt a hint of resignation... And it struck him like a bantha. The general... was sacrificing himself so they could survive, so the survivors of Horn Company could carry on... The communication cut off in static, and the captain stood still, with a frown behind his visor...
But he quickly snapped out of it when a shot narrowly missed his head. If the general was sacrificing himself for them, he wasn't going to throw all his efforts away through his lack of responsiveness. He activated the company comm line and shouted into it, to make sure he was heard despite the shots flying around him, sometimes hitting the plastoid of his cover.
"ALL COMPANY! FALL BACK TO THE ESCAPE PODS!"
Around him, he saw his brothers look at him with surprise, but they did not question the order. Lock pointed his weapon down the corridor and fired again at the SBDs who continued their relentless march, taking down one after repeatedly shooting at the same spot six times. Brothers followed his example, raining covering fire on the robots, catching them off guard with the sudden resistance, and allowing the more exposed brothers to fall back, their brothers ceasing fire as they passed in front of their line of sight. However, the volume of fire did not prevent the SBDs from attempting to retaliate, with a few red blasts flying towards the clones.
CT-6749 'Craft' was killed by a shot to the back of the neck, and CT-2400 'Fearless' was injured when a shot hit him between the back of his chest plate and his shoulder pauldron, the latter stumbling, narrowly being missed by a shot that would have been fatal, but managing to recover by leaning against the wall. The process of covering fire and retreat repeated several times until a perpendicular corridor presented itself, where the troopers on the left side fell back to the right side, then sprinted down the corridor to put more distance between themselves and the attackers. Lock was one of the last to fall back, seizing an opportunity to inflict another loss when the SBDs reached the intersection, before retreating into a nearby corridor. He sprinted, joining what remained of his squad. Alpha squad had taken casualties, with only seven of the original ten men remaining. There was also a member of Delta squad who had ended up with them somehow. He joined the squad at another intersection of four corridors, all huddled to the right of the corridor, and red blasts were flying from the right-hand corridor, repeatedly hitting the corner of the wall or the closed blast door to the left.
He moved up to the front of the group and crouched down near the lead man. Sergeant 'Hope'.
"What's the situation?" Lock asked. The sergeant glanced down the corridor before pulling his head back, a shot grazing his helmet.
"About fifteen SBDs. And the left door is sealed. We can't advance towards the launch bay anymore." The sergeant gave his brief report in a tense voice. From the rear of the group, Lock heard someone mutter.
"We're screwed..."
Lock and Hope turned their heads simultaneously, and the sergeant growled.
"Shut up, Omen."
The trooper responded with a small laugh. "What 'shut up'? We have a corridor to cross that's being watched by kriffing clankers, the blast door we need to go through is closed and won't open, and I'm sure the bastards who got Xoll, Jonk, and Craft are going to come up from behind any moment now, we're screwed!" The survivors of the squad lowered their heads... They wanted to try not to believe that it was over for them, but Omen had a good and huge point... They were stuck...
Lock exchanged a glance with Hope. Then the captain moved to stand in front of Omen.
"We'll find a way. The general and Omicron squad sacrificed themselves at the bridge to hold off Grievous, they sacrificed themselves for us, and Omicron too."
He looked at the rest of the men.
"Bev, Chas, Cast, Chance, Sergeant Vinn, Corporal Deevo, Chance, Prot, Drift, and Kert. You won't see them again. They're dead. They're allowing us to escape now so that their memory is preserved, so that we can fight another day for the Republic. Don't give up, you dishonor them. Make sure their sacrifice, the deaths of Jonk, Xoll, and Craft, is not in vain. So don't give up now, soldiers!"
Despite the helmets, Lock could almost feel the sudden determination that suddenly animated the squad, invigorating them, pushing them forward, urging them to continue. Omen lowered his head, muttering something before quieting down and gripping his blaster more firmly.
"What's the plan, Captain?" Hope asked.
Lock turned and moved closer to the corner again. "We give them the biggest beatdown they've ever seen. Concentrated fire, shoot them on sight before they react... Rea-?"
He was interrupted as the closed door made a hiss, opening. Then... There was a sound... The sound of barrels of a weapon beginning to pivot on an axis...
-WHIIIIIRRRR-
-RATATATATATA!-
Two continuous salvos of blue lasers shot down the corridor, tearing through the SBDs like paper under the heavy fire
Lock breathed a sigh of relief, quietly thanking whoever had just assisted them... However, it all turned short when shots flew over their heads from behind. Lock turned his head, realizing that the B2s they had faced earlier had caught up with them, aiming his weapon and sending a pair of shots towards their assailants. The other members of the group also returned fire, neutralizing a pair of SBDs.
"Quick! This way! Captain!" Someone called from the door, Lock recognized the man. CT-8169 'Aether,' Sergeant of Squad Theta.
"Mirage, Ex, go, provide them covering fire!" Two pairs of boots struck the plastoid, as the two Z-6 gunners took position, unleashing a barrage of shots.
"Move! Move! Quickly!" Lock shouted, and Alpha squad began to move, circling around the two gunners and occasionally firing shots to assist them. Lock tapped Ex and Mirage's shoulders as he passed behind them, signaling that they had all passed. The two gunners began to fall back while firing, before disappearing around the corner, Ex having to abruptly lower his head as he passed through the door with a surprised exclamation, a shot grazing the top of his helmet.
Lock pressed the door button, closing it as soon as the two gunners were on their side, before looking at Aether. "Thank you, Sergeant."
The other chuckled lightly. "I owe you that since the defense of Point Forn, Captain."
The captain nodded, letting his body take a small break from the tension. He looked around. The rest of his group was also taking a brief pause, but what caught his attention was the three crates, filled to the brim with supplies, food, weapons, ammunition, and armor pieces, that the other six clones of Squad Theta were pulling along with them. Aether followed his gaze and explained.
"We figured we had to evacuate as soon as you ordered the retreat. So... We went through the armory, the reserves, and the med bay along the way to gather what we could... We already have some crates in the launch bay, Gamma squad was ahead of us with more crates from the armory... Lieutenant Dengloy thought it would be a good idea to put this in the available pods... Especially because..."
Aether stopped and glanced at his men who lowered their heads, their body language betraying sadness and anger... "Especially because... There are a lot of them..."
Lock asked, but partly knew that the announced losses would be heavy. "How many survivors?"
"Sixty-three... For now."
Aether clenched his fist in anger before continuing... "Those damn clankers killed 81 of our brothers... Lieutenants Xyomm and Torda are holding them off with squads Zeta and Epsilon. Lieutenant Drum and Delta squad died to allow us and Gamma to pass... They closed the door and remained on the other side...", Aether said motioning the door Lock just locked.
He heard the member of Delta squad that their group had taken hold back a choked sob at the announcement of his comrades' deaths. And as if talking about the blast door had been a magical word, shots began to crackle on the door, trying to break it down. Lock tensed, but Aether calmed him slightly.
"It'll hold long enough. Long enough for us to get out of here. Unless they bring in a rocket droid."
Lock nodded before giving his orders. In the event that the clankers brought in a rocket droid, there had to be men who could hold them off.
"Hope, two of your men stay with me, follow Theta, and help them load the crates."
He then turned to Alpha squad. "Volunteers?"
Two troopers stepped forward, one from Alpha, CT-7721-12 'Virr', and the second... Lock was surprised to see that it was the last survivor of Delta.
"Yes, sir!"
Hope looked at Lock in shock before exclaiming.
"Captain, I forbid you to think about it! The company needs you, and if the door breaks and you're killed, the company will suffer a blow from which it will not recover!"
Lock vaguely heard Omen mutter, 'It's bound to break anyway...' and saw a brother give him a slight elbow jab in the ribs.
"It's not a choice, Sergeant. It's an order, go. Now!"
With reluctance, Hope ordered the rest of Alpha to assist and follow Theta. The crates were lifted with much grunting and swearing due to their weight, and before leaving, Hope placed a hand on his captain's shoulder.
"If you die, know that me and the rest of Alpha won't forgive you. Dengloy won't either."
With that, the sergeant removed his hand and left without looking back, following Aether and coordinating Alpha's men with the crates. Lock watched them until they disappeared into another corridor, not even noticing that the two troopers accompanying him had taken cover just in case. Blaster fire still rained on the door, SBDs trying to breach it without success. Lock brought his wrist to his faceplate and opened a communication with his two lieutenants.
"Xyomm and Torda, situation report on your position."
There was no response for a few moments, and Lock feared the worst for a moment, but a response finally reached him.
"Captain! You're alive!" Torda's voice echoed in his helmet, sounding slightly relieved. He could hear blaster shots impacting the plastoid and their whistling as they passed near the lieutenant.
"Situation report," Lock requested again. There was another silence, and the captain heard blaster shots, closer this time; Lock deduced that the lieutenant had just fired a few shots at their adversaries.
"Doesn't look good, Captain. Xyomm has been injured and taken to the launch bay by a medic, we won't hold out much longer... They're going to overwhelm us—AH!"
"TORDA!" Lock shouted over the communication, his heart tightening as he realized he had just lost another brother, a close friend with that...
"I'm okay, a shot hit my knee pad, luckily no damage. We'll soon be overrun, and both squads are at half strength, whether due to injuries or deaths." The lieutenant responded impassively despite having just been hit. Lock immediately responded without hesitation.
"Fall back, put as much distance between you and the clankers as possible so you can have time to help load the remaining crates into the escape pods."
"Copy that, Captain."
The communication cut off, and Lock turned to the other two clones.
"Let's move, Torda and his men are falling back. We will join the rest at the launch bay"
However...
Before they could make a movement...
Lock heard the blaster fire cease impacting the door...
And a whistling sound... He widened his eyes.
-BOOM!-
The door was blown inward, and a large piece of said door hit his helmet... It was the last thing he saw before the world turned black...
...
Lock opened his eyes abruptly and looked left and right... He was in a small, circular space, lying on the floor between two rows of benches and a control console whose lights were the only source of light.
An escape pod...
He was in an escape pod... It meant he had survived...
From a dark corner of the pod, there was movement and a voice that startled him somewhat.
"Ah... You're finally awake, Captain..."
Lock tried to sit up, but a hand appeared in the dim light, holding him back. A helmet followed a few seconds later.
"Don't move, your leg took a nasty hit. And the air reserves in this pod gave out when we were dropped... We're on limited oxygen now... I can only explain to you what happened... And then we'll have to keep quiet..."
He heard the trooper sit down in his seat, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see the other occupants of the capsule. Seven other occupants... All motionless, on their benches, staring straight ahead, frozen in a chilling silence...
"Virr and Focus dragged you, unconscious, into the launch bay, alerting us of their pursuers' approach; they said the door you were guarding was pulverized by a rocket and that a big piece of metal hit you, the two managed to get you out of there just as the clankers advanced into the corridor; they barely managed to save you. It's a miracle you survived without head injury, thank your helmet for that, without it, your skull would be mush... We stuffed you into the first available pod, then, on Lieutenant Torda's orders, we dropped the pods simultaneously... Once in space, we were swallowed by some sort of distortion, a kind of rift in reality... It was during the passage that the reserves gave out... We found ourselves in complete darkness, sitting like vegetables waiting to get out of this hole... Or to die in it... We have no news from the other pods, the comms are fried or not working... I can't tell you how long we've been here... Maybe minutes, maybe hours... Maybe days..."
On that, the clone medic fell silent, and the capsule was once again plunged into silence...
Lock stared at the ceiling... Or what he thought was the ceiling in this darkness...
And remembered...
Tears began to flow down his cheeks...
Tears of sadness...
He still remembered Aether's words... Sixty-three survivors... Perhaps fewer now... Or perhaps, ultimately, the only survivors of the entire company... Were the eight of them, in this pod... Isolated outside the fabric of reality, drifting in a void where there was nothing... Death was looming, drawing nearer with every molecule of oxygen consumed...
He thought again of the general and Omicron squad, on the ship's deck, who sacrificed themselves so that they could escape, perhaps in vain...
All the dead...
All the losses inflicted, they died in vain... Lock felt a deep sense of despair, sadness, and regret engulf him...
They were going to die in the void, forgotten, lost in an endless abyss... His brothers must be thinking the same thing...
'Please... If the Force that the Jedi believe in... Or anyone hears me... There in the void, do not let us die... Let us fight for our fallen brothers, let us preserve the memory of our fallen brothers…', Lock thought, praying
/
Lock hoped for some kind of response... But nothing came... Unbeknownst to him, however... His brothers thought the same thing at the same moment, and in the void, a tiny spark appeared... Burning with the despair of the clones… But this spark was weak...
/
In the capsule, there was suddenly the sound of movement... A bag opening... An object being taken out...
Then... In the darkness...
A soft melody began to be played.
"Brexx! This is not the ti-"
"Leave him", ordered Lock as the medic was about to get up to prevent his comrade from wasting the precious gas...
"But the oxy-"
"Leave him..." repeated Lock as the medic was about to protest... The captain then fell silent, listening to the soft melody played by the trooper. If he was not mistaken, it was a Hallikset with seven strings... He suddenly remembered the clone, Brexx... The medic had called him that... He remembered that brother... After a battle on the planet Codia, during which the Horn Company intervened and repelled the Separatist attack, the clone had saved a family trapped in their building, who, in gratitude, had offered him the instrument and taught him to play it...
"In the darkness of the abyss, we're trapped,
Our souls chained, our hearts shattered,
We sing this melody of endless sorrow,
For our fallen brothers, for their memory, we endure."
There was a brief silence that followed...
"Under the dimmed stars, we march endlessly,
Lone soldiers in a boundless ocean of war and death,
Our footsteps echo in the void, our destiny sealed,
But in our hearts, the fire of freedom still preserved."
Then... Lock began to sing...
"In the darkness of the abyss, we're trapped,
Our souls chained, our hearts shattered,
We sing this melody of endless sorrow,
For our fallen brothers, for their memory, we endure."
Other voices joined Lock's, as the occupants sang the song, even the medic, after a moment of reluctance, began to sing...
"The memories of battles, etched in our minds,
Images of glory, moments when we were invincible,
But now, we're alone, in this endless chasm,
Our tears mingle with the dark waters, an endless grief."
The communication somehow reactivated, crackling to life... Connecting to the other escapes pods floating in the darkness...
"Despite the darkness surrounding us, we hold onto hope,
That tomorrow will bring light, a new hope,
We fight for our brothers, for their sacred legacy,
Their memory guides us, in the darkness."
And after a little moment... The voices of the occupants of the other rescue capsules filled the radio...
"In the darkness of the abyss, we're trapped,
Our souls chained, our hearts shattered,
We sing this melody of endless sorrow,
For our fallen brothers, for their memory, we endure."
The tone of the melody suddenly changed, from sad to determined, strong, as the survivors of the Horn Company prepared for the final chorus.
"As the stars fade, we stand strong,
Bearing the burden of war, despite it all,
In the shadow of the abyss, we find the strength to carry on,
For our brothers, for honor, until the end of time."
With each word, determination filled their voices, and the power of the song reverberated against the walls of the pods, some stood up, pounding their chests with a closed fist, others began to strike the metal floor with their boots. They pushed back their despair, the sixty-three survivors were all united in one voice, a defiance to the darkness that engulfed them.
/
The little spark, now nourished by the union of sixty-three bodies, nourished by their determination, nourished by their defiance against the darkness, shone even brighter, its size increasing gradually, from a spark it turned into an ember...
From ember it turned into flame...
From flame it turned into fire...
And from fire it turned into a sun.
Feeding on the determination of the clones, it began to push back the darkness, devouring it with its magnificent radiance... And then...
The sun detonated.
/
Suddenly, through the pod's observation window, there was a flash of light. Everyone fell silent, and the radio filled with groans of pain as a bright, dazzling light reached eyes accustomed to the darkness of the clones...
Lock covered his helmet visor, at the same time, his ears suddenly began to ring...
Then... A shockwave.
The pod was rocked by the shockwave, spinning the rescue capsule like a top...
And finally... The sound of an explosion... Powerful, deafening, piercing through the Phase I helmet's auditory protections before assaulting their eardrums.
The light shone even brighter, growing stronger and stronger, until Lock's hands couldn't even protect him from the light... He tried to close his eyes, but the light pierced through his eyelids... All he saw was white... Then it was nothing but black again...
…
"Argh..."
Lock opened his eyes, reaching for his aching head... Kriff... It took him a while to remember what had happened...
Oh yes... The flash of light in the darkness and the deafening explosion...
The captain looked around... The interior of the rescue capsule was bathed in a soft morning light... So he deduced they had emerged from the abyss...
He heard grunting and turned his head towards the source of the sound... One of the troopers sat up on his bench, also holding his head, before looking around too...
He saw Lock looking at him and saluted...
"Captain!"
Lock noticed something strange in the trooper's voice, but he was too dazed to pinpoint exactly what. And then... There was something else that bothered him, was the pod bigger or it was just him?
"At ease, soldier..."
Lock replied just as there was another groan from the other side of the pod. Then another. And another.
Slowly, the occupants of the escape pod began to awaken one by one...
It took them all about ten minutes to regain their senses before they started to move, albeit slowly.
A trooper got up from his seat and approached the control panel to initiate environment check and verification procedures. He heard the trooper swear, murmuring something about feeling like the control panel was higher than normal... He was cautious as he passed, careful not to step on Lock, and five minutes later, he reported.
"The pod was depressurized upon touchdown, the air is breathable, weather conditions seem good... However, the logbook doesn't seem to provide any information prior to landing, as if... We had been... put here, no impact report, no damage. The tracking system doesn't seem to work, comms are completely down, and the distress signal transmitter is fried."
Lock nodded, still retaining the strange feeling that something was off with his brothers...
"So, we can leave the pod... Brexx, open the hatch... Virr, support me."
The two troopers nodded, Brexx stepping towards the hatch, before grabbing the opening handle... and pulling it.
The handle didn't budge. The trooper backed off a bit, confused, before trying again. Same result.
"Hey, Slunt, come help me with the handle, it's stuck."
The clone nodded, before he joined his comrade, and both pulled on the handle. It didn't move an inch. Annoyed, Brexx gave it a sharp tug, still assisted by Slunt, this time, the handle unlocked with a hiss, opening the hatch which was ejected. There was a sound of metal clashing and then nothing.
Brexx looked outside before stepping out, followed by Slunt and another trooper.
Virr approached the captain and helped him up, supporting him on his shoulder, and that's how they both exited.
Fresh air blew on Lock's helmet, filled with the sweet soundof birds chirping... They had arrived in the middle of a clearing, right in the middle of a forest. As the brother had said, the pod was like put on the ground, no sign of a violent landing as was customary with them...
At that moment, the hatches of the dozen other capsules were ejected, flying a few meters before crashing to the ground, and gradually the survivors emerged from their pods. He looked at them… It seemed like… No, he wasn't hallucinating right? The pods indeed seemed to be bigger…
Suddenly, a hand tapped his shoulder. Lock turned his head and smiled.
"Good to see you're in one piece, Dengloy."
The lieutenant nodded solemnly.
"I'm glad as well. Your leg?" the other asked, pointing to it with a chin gesture.
"Fine. What's our evaluation?"
The lieutenant looked around them.
"I'm unsure. We should see that later. I think I saw Xyomm and Torda starting to tally up as soon as they came out of their pods."
"Shouldn't Xyomm be resting after his injury?"
Dengloy shook his head with a small laugh... "Xyomm is too stubborn to rest properly, you know that Captain."
Lock nodded, lost in thought... Around them, the men were busy, some setting up at the edge of the woods, taking cover behind trees, keeping watch to avoid any unpleasant surprises. The clone medics were tending to the wounded. Others were helping unload equipment from the capsules that had been stuffed with it
In short, the men were bustling.
Lock admired them, to be honest. They had all just arrived on a mysterious planet, after passing through an abyss, and after a grueling battle that had left only them alive. Yet the men, despite their grief, do not allowed themselves to be distracted by that for now.
He watched them for a long moment... Until he was drawn from his thoughts by Torpa and Xyomm approaching.
The company command was assembled. Lock straightened up, now serious, professional.
Lock
Xyomm
Torpa
Dengloy
If Drum had been alive, they would have been complete.
The two newcomers saluted their captain. Standing straight as sticks, even though Xyomm had a slightly hunched back due to his injury, which Lock glanced at for a moment. A black scorched mark on his armor at rib level.
"We've just finished inventory and headcount, Captain."
Torda began, Xyomm continuing.
"For the men, we are sixty-three, it's a miracle that we suffered no additional losses during our retreat to the launch bay.
We have seven medics, seven engineers, six gunners, three AT-gunners, two commsmen, three snipers, two flametroopers, and twenty-nine troopers. This is not counting ourselves, and without the ranks.
In terms of squad strength, Alpha is at seven men, Beta is at three men, Delta has only one survivor left, Theta is at seven men, Gamma is at full strength, Eta is at nine men, Epsilon is at seven men, Zeta is at five men, Lambda is at full strength, Tau is at two men, and finally, Iota is at three men."
Lock thought for a second... In the boarding, they had lost the Omicron and Upsilon squads... Furthermore, it was out of the question for Lock to have squads with critically reduced strength.
"After this meeting, make sure to merge the squads that have suffered losses. We cannot afford to have squads with critically reduced strength.
Combine for now Alpha with Beta, Epsilon with Delta and Tau, Iota with Zeta."
Xyomm nodded, before continuing.
"We have twenty-two wounded, nine of them severely. They can be moved, but they will be given priority in terms of care. We don't have bacta tanks, so recovery from injuries will have to occur naturally with the assistance of bacta patches and injections of other products."
The captain nodded.
"Inventory of available equipment?"
This time it was Torda who spoke.
"On this point, we're set. We have enough rations, medical supplies, ammunition, explosives, and armor pieces to last us a good while, if we were to compare, I'd say we could withstand a small siege for a good two weeks with relatively little difficulty. We have two long-range radio transmitters, several datapads, portable scanners, backpacks, weapon repair kits, spare comlinks, several radiation suits, and also a dismantled EWHB-12."
They were good speaking supplies in that case. Finally some good news.
"Captain!"
A voice called out. Lock turned to see one of the clone medics running towards them.
"Captain! You... You won't believe what happened."
The clone's voice was filled with surprise and pure incomprehension, and Lock immediately tensed.
"What's going on, Lockdown?"
He asked. He knew Lockdown very well, and he was the kind of brother who wasn't easily surprised or fazed by anything. He had actually earned his nickname because of that, when he had not hesitated to lock down the medical bay with him and all the patients inside, and had stayed confined with a brother who had contracted a violent disease that his body, despite being equipped with an enhanced immune system, couldn't fight off.
"It's the Corporal Dion. Something strange happened to him..."
Lock raised an eyebrow.
"Lead the way, brother."
The medic nodded, pivoted on his heels, and began to move.
"Not so fast Lockdown. Slunt only managed to wrap a bandage around my leg; I can't move quickly."
Lock signaled as the medic quickened his pace, the captain hopped on one leg, helped by Virr, followed by the three lieutenants. He paid no attention to their words, which sounded worried.
He could understand them.
What was happening?
The group finally arrived at the improvised first aid center. More precisely, it was just tarps on the ground where injured troopers had been laid. It was quite easy to guess where the concerned trooper was, with a circle of four other clone medics around the tarp where the brother had been laid, their posture showing disbelief. As the group approached, the medics noticed them, saluted, and stepped aside.
Virr almost dropped Lock, who also almost let go of his brother.
Torda exclaimed in surprise.
Xyomm took two steps back.
Dengloy stood frozen there, dumbfounded.
The brother who looked at them seemed just as frozen by astonishment.
What the group had in front of them was not a full-grown clone, but a cadet...
"Kriffing hell...", murmured Xyomm... And suddenly, Lock knew what had disturbed him earlier in his brothers' voices.
"Your helmets, all of you, take them off."
Lock ordered. He himself reached for his helmet before removing it.
"What?"
"Oh my..."
"What the kriff..."
"But? Huh?"
Such were the reactions of all the troopers present as they removed their helmets, only to discover that in fact, they had all aged backwards...
Lockdown muttered something... murmuring to himself before realizing that no one heard him...
He raised his voice, which was trembling with shock.
"But... But... There is no planet, no physical phenomenon present in the galaxy, capable of doing this! There is no rational explanation! This would mean that we have regressed to our real biological age! How-?"
"Because we are no longer at home, and by home, I mean our galaxy, dimension, or even universe..."
A voice rose from behind Lock, it was low, ominous, and unsettling.
He turned to face the brother who had just spoken.
"What are you insinuating, Screwball?"
The engineer stood there, silent for a few seconds, as if searching for the words to reply.
"You must have taken a hit to the head, it's a must, get yourself treated brother", said a clone lying on a tarp nearby, looking at him.
"I'm perfectly fine," the engineer replied, turning his head, his tone sharp, before returning his attention to Lock.
"Me and two brothers managed to fix the tracking device. We are not located on any known planet, no information can be given on anything. At first, we thought it was a problem on that precise pod, but apparently it's the case on the others judging by what my brothers said. Then, we managed to repair the distress signal transmitter. It refused to work, showing us an error."
The engineer then turned his head towards Lockdown. The eyes behind the black visor establishing eye contact with the medic's brown eyes.
"And you said it yourself, Lockdown. There is no rational explanation for what has physically happened to us."
The medic couldn't reply to that... The entire improvised infirmary now paid attention to Screwball's words. And a heavy atmosphere descended upon the place as the clones realized they were trapped on this planet, perhaps forever, trapped in this unknown and possibly hostile world in the form of thirteen-year-olds.
"If your words prove true, then we'll have to move."
All eyes turned to Lock as he straightened up with Virr's help.
"We won't be able to survive alone in the wilderness. If this planet is inhabited, we'll have to make contact with them to survive. If they're hostile, they'll taste our weapons; if they're friendly, we'll try to negotiate with them",the captain concluded before observing everyone's reaction.
Some were skeptical, others hesitant, and some nodded in agreement, finding the idea good and necessary.
"Then we await your orders, captain", Dengloy responded solemnly.
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter!
Oh! And while I think about that! Small informations for the future chapters.
1- Our beloved MHA characters will appear some time later. (see note N°2 just below)
2- This chapter... Is happening 3 years BEFOREthe main events of the anime, we will get a massive three years timeskip at the end of Chapter 2 or 3, depends on what I want to put in both chapters.
3- The real villain nightmare will begin at the Sports Festival, and it won't be the LOV hehehe...
4-Why Horn Company and not another... Well... Horn company appeared in only 1 Clone Wars episode... And like everyone they deserve some attention.