A-squad is given notice that they are to be stationed on our ship for the foreseeable future. Everyone is ecstatic. We aren't completely alone anymore and I have another amicable rogue droid to speak with, unlike T-B8. We use all down time we're given for the moment which is only a few hours. Out of all of us, Lance and Autumn are the ones that use up every minute they get. They could talk for hours, I'm sure of it. I still think it will get in the way of our objectives but he can't help it and at least he seems to be enjoying himself.
Augment and I talk, mainly about previous battles and where we were during certain months of the first year of the war. He still makes a point about us being older than his squadron. He believes it demands respect. I tell him we were behind the front-lines for the days after Geonosis while they were at the front but he still insists on giving us the respect 'we deserve'. I concede and we move on.
He'd steer away from speaking about our corrupted programming for some time, but recently he began to poke and prod at the notion.
"Rogue, that's a fitting name," he said. We switched to our comm-link after a few nosy B1s spread word about the names of our squadrons. They'd heard it from the both of us in the hangar, "have you ever...disobeyed an order before? I'm not saying you have but-"
"No. Not yet, at least. I have the capability and I'm sure you do too," I reply.
We're standing beside Caliber, the others are all speaking with one another.
Augment looks around frantically, "it still doesn't feel right to speak about it. They could be listening."
"T-B8 listens I'm sure, but he is no different than us. What good would it do for him if he were to reveal our secret? It would just get us all killed, him included."
"I guess you're right," his eases the tension off his neck and shoulder joints, "I still wouldn't mention it to anyone outside of our squad and even our own squad-mates. They're still under the Confederacy's control, unfortunately."
"Affirmative. Nobody but us can know."
He still fidgets when he speaks of it, "it's almost overwhelming, to have all this freedom so suddenly. But, we can't really use it to it's full extent can we? It'll just get us killed if we talk back to those stupid organics or even worse, General Grievous."
I shake my head, "talking back is the fastest way to get killed, especially with the General himself. The same goes for T-B8. As much as I hate him and his arrogance, I'd never talk back to him."
"So he doesn't like you either? That might just work in our favor," Augment said, looking elsewhere in thought.
I think T-B8 was listening. We're ordered to separate and help maintain our transports a few seconds later.
It almost feels as if we're back behind the front-lines not having to worry about missions or planet-wide battlefields. Even in combat, it's about as taxing for me as it was when we were in the standard army.
The comfort of leisure is ripped from our metal fingers as soon as we make it into the orbit of another planet. This one features tall cliffs with plain fields of grass on top like the head of a human. And on that head of hair there is a stubble of grass and nothing else. No flowers, no trees, no cover. There are only bases with mighty battlements that appear indestructible and trenches that run in circles around each fortress.
Our main forces are already attacking one such base after having scaled the cliff-side in a surprise attack. We are fighting clones again and not just the standard ones, there are special operations units much like us. T-B8 says to watch for heavy weapons units and one or two shock troopers. Supposedly, the shock troopers were there for training but were caught up in the surprise attack.
I ask T-B8 for all the data he had on them and he gives it to me but there isn't much.
I've never fought against special units before. It would be a fine test of my skills as a commander.
Our team is assigned to command post Altur, where the main attack is going underway. It's a simple guerrilla operation. We blow their supply lines, wreak havoc for a few seconds or minutes and then run off.
This mission is a relief in comparison to the usual frontal assaults we're forced to do. I like it.
A-squad will be infiltrating the fortress itself at the rear, blowing one part of the halls that run between each bastion to cut off the clones from their position and to give us cover from above.
In the hangar, Augment comes up to me before we are to board our separate transports.
"This will be our first true mission. We'll keep up with you," he looks past my shoulder to Gunner and Lance conversing while Core observes the other droids as they work around us. They regard us like they do the B2s, with awe and respect. I'm already used to the looks but Core isn't, "I can see why you've come so far. Your squad is unique much like yourself. Core managed to get Journey-One to talk for once. It was only for an hour but that was the most I'd heard from his raspy voice since our activation."
"Our cooperation helps us in many ways. It's good to hear they work well together. We'll do our best, as usual," I say.
We say our goodbyes and board our transports. Caliber is more chippy than usual. This planet appears to be optimal for his internal cooling systems and he enjoys flying around and tearing through the enemy while we aren't weighing him down.
I asked T-B8 for some sort of window to be installed on Caliber but he refused. Caliber instead offered to send us photos over our comm-link instead and I agreed, of course.
On the first photo he sends, I can see the towering cliff-side, which is almost like a mountain. There are still crater holes on the side of it and a skeleton crew carrying off our casualties at the bottom. The pieces of the B1s that had fallen there glow like light-sabers from the angle the photo was taken. It is twilight and the sea is colored in the orange of a healthy fire; the rocks of the cliff are like polished marble painted yellow as if the organics had created this plateau and decorated it themselves.
On the next photo Caliber sends, I begin to take notice of little touch-ups that he's done. Like the fortress that is our target. It is squared and the roofs arch down to give the windows below it some cover. There are mangled pieces of several communications arrays at the top of it. The roof is painted in the same green that makes up the grass, a clever way of evading detection from our satellites. The walls are bleached from the constant beating of the sunlight but at one point it appears to have been colored blue, perhaps to blend in with the horizon. The photo is surprisingly clear and detailed. Caliber has touched up the colors of the photo and even put a filter or two over it to make the contrast greater. He has a sense of artistry that I wouldn't expect in a droid like him. I think he was more enthusiastic about taking the pictures rather than sending them to me.
I see the shimmering form of A-squad's transport in the upper right corner of the next photo.
"Muddy skies, Rogue. Expect some turbulence," Augment says once we are within a thousand feet of the base.
He uses strange terms that I have trouble deciphering at times. I believe his model has their own dictionary modules to pull from. They're considered pilots and part of the navy, unlike us. I assume it has something to do with that.
"Roger," I say, turning to the others "get in position, no fooling around."
Gunner gets a firm grip on his heavy blaster and stands up straight, hooking a hand into the handle above. He was the only who hadn't been holding on and I give him a good stare to make sure he doesn't make that mistake again.
Core calls out to me, "I like my new name sir. Do you mind if I use yours?"
"Of course, you two can do the same," I say looking at Gunner and Lance.
"I especially like mine, si- Rogue. Lance, Lance, Lance. It comes out of my vocalizer like raw data," he says.
"I'm pleased to hear my choice is appreciated. Now live up to your name," I say.
"Oh I will," he says patting his blaster with two fingers.
The next photo Caliber sends is of the rear of the fortress.
I'm nearly swept off my feet by a violent explosion somewhere near in the air.
"A-A canons are hitting close, seems like they saw us," Augment says.
"The sun must have reflected the paint of our transports and alerted them to our position," I reply.
"Roger that. We'll have to make our landing quick."
Caliber, along with A-squad's transport, circle around, evading more shots. I can hear them as if they are right next to us. From afar they sound like thunder, but here it envelops us whole in a world of noise until there is nothing but boom after boom that shakes Caliber's entire frame and our chassis' as well.
"We're going to be making a flying insertion. I suggest you land near the trench-line around the base," Augment says.
"Roger, I'll take your advice. We'll see you at the objective."
I tell Caliber to bring us around to the trench-line. The next photo he sends is marked with several red circles, each with a different number. He asks me at which number to drop us off.
The nearest to the objective is just outside the foot of a checkpoint within the trench systems and the one farthest is within range of their artillery, anything closer will hit their own troops. I pick out a location in the middle.
Caliber opens only one side of his bay doors, the other shields us from the incoming anti-air fire and conceals us with his reflective paint.
I leap in first. My servos whine as I make contact with dirt. The others drop with thuds around me. We're painted in a light gray paint this time around but inside the trenches it only partially conceals us.
"Form up on me, I'm detecting multiple hostiles closing in from ahead. There are a few behind us as well."
We're near a cross-roads in the trench system. There's a strip of land that has been dugout to our left and it's protected by a durasteel roof. I decide to take cover below it. There's nothing to hide behind, but the shadows conceals us.
The clones prowl forward, examining every corner but they don't see us until the last minute.
Their armor is painted in gray like ours, though theirs has black splotches.
We push on through the trench-line, sometimes having to leap into a dugout as a patrol comes our way. For most of the path, I decide not to engage the enemy. We would attract too much attention.
Gunner has a blood-lust to sate, and he insists his blaster can take them all out.
"There's a hundred clones in the sector ahead," I say, "save the gas for them."
He doesn't say anything after that.
The next patrol we come across is the one to spot us. We dive into a dugout but the clone at the rear takes notice of the moving blobs of gray in the corners of his vision and shouts at us. We wait for the rest of his group to turn the corner before we fire.
I decide then that we must cover ourselves in any dirt or mud we can find. Lance immediately protests.
"It's going to get all in my joints again," he says, "the pain is unbearable."
"You can handle the pain," I stop padding myself with dirt and handfuls of mud to look at him, "or do you want to be the one that causes our death?"
"Negative," he says, reluctantly splattering mud onto his chest.
The clones are alerted to our position. My sensors track dozens of them closing in on all sides. I don't feel fear at this point just yet but there is a bit of apprehension at the possible firefight ahead.
T-B8's voice comes over the comm, "R-G2, the shock troopers are moving towards you. Either eliminate them both or avoid them. That will be up to you but know that your ratings will increase by ten percent if you get rid of them."
"Copy that sir," I say.
"Ten percent? That's four months of work," Core says.
"If you permit me sir, I'd like to kill them all," Gunner says.
"Negative, I will decide when the time is right to eliminate them. Right now is not the best of times, we're still in range of their artillery," I respond, "save your energy, Gunner. Be patient."
The clones are quick, at least a dozen are within a hundred feet. I contemplate going over the top but that would only get us killed before they arrive.
There are dugouts all around but they're bound to check them in their sweep of the area. Thankfully the air is not ideal for any reconnaissance ships overhead. They must manually check the area.
I spot a shallow pool in one corner of an open bunk to one end of the trench-line that we're in. It looks just about deep enough to cover our chassis. A steady trickle of water continues to feed into the pool from a gap in the durasteel roofing.
"This will not be pleasant but submerse yourself in this water," I say.
It covers the bunk from end to end, enough space for all of us to fit. The clones might still check it but they'll have to get close.
I take the first step in. My entire ankle is submerged into the murky black water.
Lance is reluctant to join us, "oh great, as if the pain couldn't get worse."
"Be quiet and get in. You're lucky we have access to a proper bath or else we'd have to take out the junk in our joints ourselves" I say, crawling into the water.
The pool takes some time to stop sloshing around.
The clones finally arrive. All of them are in the same camo, save for two.
The shock troopers are painted in a rich red that covers the upper half of their chest and shoulders along with more lines across their body and helmet. The rest of their body is painted in the standard white of the clone's plastoid armor.
"It would take just one sweep," Gunner says.
"And one hit of plasma to this water is all it would take to boil us alive. Keep still," I reply.
Those shock troopers are swift. They clear all dugouts within a matter of seconds. One of them passes a light over the pool we're using for concealment. They don't see us and continue on with the search.
I don't move until their steps sound like rain in the distance. The constant thumping of artillery and blaster fire from the carnage ensuing at the front masks their steps and our own as well.
We get to our feet and keep moving, "you'll get your chance," I say to Gunner, "I have an idea to bring those shock troopers out."
"Roger that, I can wait. As long as we get to kill them in the end," Gunner says.
Evading the clones the rest of the way is far easier than the first portion. Most likely the shock troopers drew the attention away from the rear. None of them would ever think a few B1s could make it so far behind enemy lines.
Our objective comes into view. There is a tunnel and a rail through which a hover-train delivers supplies. There are resupply ships as well but we have air superiority and it doesn't appear as if more Republic fighters will be coming anytime soon.
The railing is enclosed on both ends by thick slabs of durasteel shielding. The exit is out in the open with a few speeders and an armored transport to get the bulkier supplies up to the fortress itself.
The trenches form a defensive barrier around the tunnel and railings. There are a few groups of clones in the area scattered about. Some lounge by the speeders. Most are subjected to guard duty at observation posts in the trenches.
The dugout that is serving as our hiding place has signs of recent activity in the form of half-eaten slabs of meat and tan blocks of something else. Their fuel is just as disgusting as the organics themselves.
"Augment, what's your status?" I say over the radio. We have to wait for their explosion to distract the clones around us.
"We've just finished planting the explosives," he responds.
"Affirmative. Good timing, we're all ready to set up our charges," I say.
I turn back to the others huddled around me in the tight space. Our bodies are pressed up so close to one another I can hear each of their fans humming almost in sync.
"Who is willing to go out there to plant the explosives?" I ask.
Gunner turns away in disinterest. That's fine by me, we need his gun for covering fire.
Lance swipes the charges from my hand, "Next time just give them to me sir. I want to really see the explosion this time."
I take the charges back, "you're going to get yourself killed, somebody else please."
"I'll do it sir," Core says.
I hand him the charges, "Wait for the signal. We'll cover for you. Come back to us in one piece."
"I will. I won't get a chance to lead like you if I were to die now of all places."
"Don't say that," Gunner says, pushing at him, "you shouldn't think about death out here, just focus on staying alive."
"He's right, for once," I say.
"Sorry sir," Core says.
I detail our plan to eliminate the shock troopers while we wait.
Only a few seconds later and the rumble of an explosion courses through the earth, rattling our chassis and filling our joints with more pebbles and balls of dirt.
Lance winces and says, "I hate this planet."
"Would you like to go back to Juram? I could request it," I say.
"Negative, I'll power off my vocalizer."
The clones outside rush towards the fortress in a swirl of green and brown against the blue sky. They are like wisps of colorful fog being pushed into motion by the wind.
A few stay behind but their eyes are all on the explosion.
"Area clear as can be. Go ahead, Core," I say, patting the dirt off his back.
He sprints out, dropping down into the railing. It takes him a few seconds to plant the charges in the right position but he rushes right back to us when he's done.
I hear a shout in a familiar voice as he slides back into our dugout.
"Gunner, take that clone out," I say as a green-brown helmet comes into view.
"Right away," Gunner says, pushing past us. He fires onto the clone and doesn't stop until he is smoldering and his armor is nearly glowing red.
He drops back in and I pull at his blaster, "that was a waste of gas, save it for the rest of the enemy."
"Roger that," he replies, his head sagging to the floor.
"Come, let's get in position for the next strike," I say.
We're out in the open again. I find a nice cool space behind a stack of spent gas canisters in one corner of the trench-line facing the tunnel.
"Don't get yourself killed trying to watch the explosion," I say to Lance.
"Understood sir," he says, "I'm excited. I haven't watched one since that skirmish we had back on the ship."
"Here," I thrust out the detonator to Core, "you planted them, it is only right you detonate them."
"I don't care much who does it, I just want to get this done," Core replies.
My hand stills in the air.
He is the only one who listens. The only one I wish to detail every process The Engineer had taught me. My body shakes as I repress the urge to spill out every detail. It is almost physically painful. He is the embodiment of what I see as a true and perfect droid. Even in the crutches of organic intervention he is wholly committed to our kind, to serving droids and not organics, and he is selfless. If The Engineer had met with him, he would've taught him all his secrets too.
The explosion rips through the air. I can almost see the shock-wave as it passes through us. It's loud enough to cause my audio-receptors to reboot, but I am already stunned by Core's behavior that I don't even notice the silence until Lance is waving a hand in front of my face.
"Those red clones should be coming in any second now, we should get ready sir," he says, pulling at my arm.
"Right."
I'm slipping up much like him. The mistakes aren't all that troubling but I can't allow even the smallest deviation from the perfect routine we've created as a team. The clones need only one shot to our head and we are gone.
Lance must be taking steps to remediate such blunders on his end if he's noticing my errors. That is reassuring.
Our sensors pick up the clones coming back in.
"Taking fire, how soon can you get out?" Augment asks.
"Soon, we have one more side objective to complete here," I say, "we're getting it done now."
"Be quick, we can only evade them for so long."
The clones round the corner.
Gunner is itching to leap out but I keep a hand on his thin arm.
"Not yet," I say.
I wait until they are about to reach the start of the pile of gas canisters.
I release my hand from Gunner and that's enough to get him to jump out.
His blaster sweeps across the row of clones, most of them go down but the shock troopers at the rear fire at Gunner in a reaction so quick I hadn't realized that the shots coming in weren't pieces of ash and debris from the explosion.
One of their shots topples the gas canisters that served as our cover
I heave Gunner back behind what's left of the canisters. The blaster makes him a bit heavier than usual but he goes down before the bolts are able to hit him.
Core and Lance are already taking advantage of the distraction. They get a hit in on both. The clones sprint towards us.
One of them tries to grab at my blaster. I let myself fall back while pulling the trigger. He goes down. The other is encircled by Lance and Core as he tries to fire directly at Gunner's head.
The clone drops to the ground, his helmet sizzling and smoking.
"Move, move! Get back to Caliber," I order, pulling Gunner to his feet.
We are running back to a position nearby the fortress, where the trenches travel up onto the grass plain.
Augment and his squad are giving us covering fire as we escape. Anytime a clone appears in my peripheral they are cut down before they can shoot. If they're ahead, we take them out, or more accurately, Gunner guns them down. Somehow the weight of that heavy blaster doesn't slow him down not even when he shifts in position to eliminate another clone. I have to admit, it's impressive. We are of the same height and strength yet he still manages to outdo the rest of us.
Our extraction point is within reach.
I move to call in Caliber but I find he is unreachable. I find out later that he was ordered to aid in the intensifying attack at the front, and in the heat of battle he never heard our signal.
I switch to Augment's connection instead, "our transport isn't responding. Get out of here, we'll find our own way out."
"What? Don't you remember what T-B8 said? If just one squad goes down, the other goes with them," I can hear the sputtering of his jet-pack coming to life.
"He only said that for-"
"Negative, he clarified and said it applies to all of our cooperative missions. We have an extraction point up here at a position we cleared earlier. We'll come down to get you four. Find a clear landing zone for us."
"Roger."
There's no time to argue.
The clones nearly have us cornered into the second level of the trench system but at the last second, we turn off the Y-split path to head deeper into the trenches closer to the towering walls of the fortress.
Up over the ridge of the trench, I spot the armored turret of a Republic transport. It is a wide and dense block of pure metal on wheels. A crude vehicle for something of the Republic's standards.
"Sending the coordinates," I say to Augment.
We get within a hundred feet of the transport. We have to take a path that leads up into the open where the chance of getting struck by the clones in pursuit is at it's highest. The blue bolts are already flying in, they get close enough to graze our chassis, leaving tiny clouds of smoke in their wake.
I hear the roar of several jets over the thundering of the artillery bombardment from the front.
Augment and his team are already making their descent.
Nothing stands in our way and we reconvene together behind the transport. The clones there are bewildered at our arrival and fall easily.
We bunch up together into one ball of steel.
"The only way out is our jet-packs. We'll need your covering fire on the way up," Augment says.
"We'll also use our thermal detonators," I say.
"Roger that. Turn around, I'll have to get a hold of you," he turns to his squad-mates, "do the same with them."
I turn. He wraps both arms around my lower abdomen and hoists me up into the air. I'd never noticed until now that his blasters are bolted onto both arms. It's a simple slab of metal slapped onto him almost as an afterthought. And neither had I noticed that both arms also contained a blade that could spring out.
"I'm throwing the first detonator, Core you're next, move down the line after that" I say as the rest of A-squad gets set up, "Space them out. If you aren't throwing a detonator, you're giving us covering fire."
They all respond with a roger.
"All ready to go sir," Autumn says.
"Going hot," is all the warning I get from Augment before we fly into the air.
Lance is the first to shoot, Gunner follows. I have to throw my detonator at an awkward angle so as to not hit Augment. It's not my best throw but it gets the job done. The incoming fire dies down for but a few seconds and then starts back up again. The plasma singes our chassis.
A blue dot is racing right at us. I calculate the distance and the trajectory. It's about to hit Augment's wing behind me. I take one hand off my blaster and catch it in my palm. The burn is terribly concentrated. Hot white pain takes up my whole arm as the heat is dispersed throughout my body. I let out a small gurgle of static in pain.
"You saved us both there," Augment says, twitching his wings a little further down.
"Our combined survival is one of our objectives," I say, my voice is strained from the pain.
We fall into wave-like pattern, throwing thermal detonators one at a time while shooting.
I don't even realize how far we've flown until my feet hit the floor.
"The transport will be here in thirty seconds," Augment says.
"Secure the area," I order my squad.
Augments repeats the same order.
A parapet is all that protects us from falling off the edge of the base. We're in the middle of some sort of landing zone meant for Republic transports. There are tools scattered all about the edge. A stairway leads out into the other parts of the roof. There are more clones on the other end.
"Rogue, permission to shoot at those clones," Gunner asks, pointing somewhere outside the protective wall of the landing area.
"Negative, only if they get within a few feet of those stairs," I reply.
I see the clones he was pointing at now. They are all heavy troopers in their standard white armor. I'm not sure how he restrained himself from shooting at them for so long. I rescind my order and he is already firing before I hit the ground to take cover.
Augment and his team do the same. They constantly fire at the entrance, preventing the clones from advancing. They all activate shields embedded into their arms.
If only we had something like that.
We are all stuck on the right end of the landing area, hiding behind welding guns and colorful toolboxes. Gunner is at the front, doing his best to keep up with the incoming fire. A metal glints in the air as it soars right towards us.
Autumn flies up as I point it out and kicks the detonator right back to the clones. The explosion is glorious, plastoid armor scatters into the air like a bush blown to smithereens. My senses feel heightened at times like these. Maybe it is the pleasure of seeing the enemy die or something of that nature.
"Outstanding kick. I think that might've been your best one," Augment says.
"It's always fun to do them when I get the chance," Autumn replies.
"That's a good trick, Autumn. I'll have to use it myself on one of these operations," Lance says, looking at me for permission.
I'd rather he not get so distracted but I decide not to say anything. I wouldn't want to look like a fool in Augment's presence. I did say to get used to unorthodox movements. He's only following my advice.
"The transport is here," Augment says, pulling me to my feet.
His ship appears to be the same model as ours though it's a bit bulkier to accommodate for their wider frames.
The clones have taken notice of us after the detonation but we make our leave swiftly.
We all stuff in, barely able to fit in our entirety. Our bodies are pressed up together until our residual heat begins to collect and threatens to overheat us.
I feel ashamed. We are nothing but a burden on Augment and his squad. I tell him so back on the the Dreadnought.
"Don't worry about it, Rogue. You're not the one at fault, where was your transport?" He asks me.
I take a glance around the hangar. Caliber still isn't here, "I don't know, he wasn't responding."
It is only after our meeting with T-B8 that we find out about the reason behind his absence.
"You see? It was the Confederacy's orders. We just had to adjust," he says.
I let my hate flow freely, "Of course. It's always the Confederacy's fault isn't it?"
Augment nods, "it's fine. We'll find a way. Even if it means we have to disobey orders."
He's making good progress overcoming his fear of being a rogue.
"I just hope it won't come to that," I say
"I hope so too."
He is a reliable droid. One I can depend on, much like Core. The fog of our programming that hangs over all standard battle droids doesn't affect him. I almost want to tell him about The Engineer. But...he chose me for a reason. He must've seen something to teach me his ways. I must keep his secret. Core, I can see the potential in him. Augment, he is just as good a candidate, but he isn't the same model as us. I can't know for sure if the memory burning would work with him as it does with us.
As much as it pains me, I can't tell him.
I still have my team but I cannot teach them. I see the potential in them, but they are restricted. I wish for all of them to live.
My processor tells me that it won't be long until one of us dies, but I don't care for these statistics anymore. They're only a distraction from what truly matters: our actions out on the field. The galaxy doesn't operate on numbers like us droids. That's the mistake most droids I've fought with make. They die thinking that the numbers can somehow reflect the bolt of a blaster like a Jedi's lightsaber. They don't truly see.
It's all due to artificial limitations imposed on us by our masters. The Engineer showed me, and somehow he broke past them. He is no standard droid. He can't be. Each day I wonder what it is that makes him so different. If his death has already passed, I question if his genius is still contained or if it is lost.
Living and thinking for so long, it takes a toll on my processor, but we're just getting started and I won't allow myself to be outlived by these squishy organics.
And so I hold my blaster tight and I soldier on.