Barton IV
New Order - day 363.
It had only been a day since Jam had died from hypothermia; Mayday felt guilty they didn't get to him in time, that the medical droid was no use to him, that this mission had been fucked up from the beginning.
That left just him, Hexx and Veetch, and the droids.
He leaned forward holding his head in his hands; he tried telling himself he had done everything he could but had still lost his squad. His brothers, so many gone.
He was manning the coms, what little there was now, he re- read the Empire's reply, the Outpost was being decommissioned; it had served its purpose. A new squad was on its way to take charge of the cargo under the command of a Lieutenant Nolan, which sounded like a nattie.
"A bit late!" growled Mayday, moving closer to the heater, glaring at the crates of whatever they were still guarding, curiosity rose in him again but the warehouse droids were doing yet another inventory of them.
.
The small unit of reinforcements came into land during a lull in the weather.
"They timed that well but am I surprised?" Mayday asked sarcastically, as they watched. Veetch and Hexx sniggered. The pilot would have had his work cut out landing in the middle of the usual storms in this blizzard season.
"I suppose I'd better meet them." He pushed himself off the container he was resting on, they conserved heat and their own energy, as much as possible and walked to the door. He poked his head outside.
"Oh great. A natborn who looks as if he's trodden in Osik—," he looked closely at the figure walking with the officer, "and a Commando."
"The rest look like clones." Veetch added, standing next to him.
"Yeah, they are."
Mayday moved away from the door, "On second thoughts, let them come to us. Keep what heat we've got inside."
He looked at the helmets on display, "Too fucking late for my brothers."
He would never forgive them for that.
.
The doors to the warehouse slid open; Mayday heard someone, not a clone, talking to a droid. He peered around the edge of the cabinet, crossed his arms and leaned against it.
"You must be our reinforcements. We expected you thirty six rotations ago. Did you get lost?" He drawled.
"We work on the Empire's schedule trooper, not yours." The Lieutenant answered, disdainfully.
Yeah you would.
"It's Commander, Lieutenant." He corrected him. If the Lieutenant thought he could make him feel anything less, he was in for a long ride.
Mayday moved slowly away from the wall.
"Well Commander. Your orders were to guard and protect this facility and it's cargo. Yet this outpost is grossly unguarded. Where are the rest of your men?"
The pang of guilt surged up again.
"Dead!" Mayday sat back down and crossed his arms, "Hexx, Veetch and I, are all that's left."
As if you care.
Mayday glanced over at the helmets of Splicer, Decs and Tank.
"Your failings will be dealt with later. For now I am in charge until the cargo is transported."
"I feel safer already." Mayday couldn't keep the sarcasm from his reply.
"Look here, clone! You speak to me with respect."
Mayday crossed his arms defiantly, "In my experience respect is something to be earned."
And you fucking haven't.
"Yet the Empire assigned you to this desolate rock where you let most of your squad get killed."
Mayday restrained himself, "Tell me Lieutenant, how many missions have you commanded?"
The Commando's helmet tilted slightly, as Mayday stood waiting for the reply; there was none.
"That's what I thought." satisfied he had made his point, he turned to Hexx and Veetch, "Boys! Why don't you help the new boss get situated."
He watched as Nolan followed the two clones out and turned to the silent Commando; his tall lanky body shape was different to a regular clone, despite the Commando armour.
"You know the Lieutenant well?" Asked Mayday, he needed to get more Intel on this new Officer.
"For about two hours." Crosshair rasped back, with no evidence of respect for the Lieutenant.
Mayday liked the way he sounded.
"Two hours too long I'll bet." Remarked Mayday, finally standing up and moving the heater closer to the Commando. "So—what did you do to get stuck with this mission?" he asked, warming his hands.
"Just lucky, I guess," Crosshair quipped.
Mayday chuckled, yes he liked him.
"The name's Mayday!" He looked at the other clone and waited.
"Crosshair!"
"Welcome to the Outpost!" He collected his bucket and blaster, "I'll give you the lay of the land."
The Commando followed him silently, as he showed him around the base; they walked towards the perimeter, nothing had happened recently with the wyrms but they had to keep repairing the perimeter alarms.
"I've been stationed on this rock for over a year, watching that cargo. Now it's finally being transported, me and my squad can hopefully get outta here."
What's left of us.
Crosshair looked out across the perimeter, "Who's been attacking the depot?" His first question.
"Locals—raiders. The last few attacks caught us off guard."
"How did they bypass the sensors?"
Mayday tapped the perimeter alarm and it stuttered to a start, the last thing they needed was whatever caused the sinkholes to reappear, "Conditions degraded our equipment. I requested replacements, but got none. Yet we're told to protect the cargo at all costs."
"Why? What's inside those crates?"
"Hmm! Yeah. I wondered that myself, everyday," Mayday shrugged, remembering the orders, the specifics about the crates.
"You don't know?"
"Apparently it's above a Clone Troopers pay grade." Crosshair walked away and simed his blaster, automatically calculating the distance of his shot, "If you're gonna scout, don't go alone. And don't go far. You'll freeze to death in that armour. Unless—what's in the ice kills you first." He didn't want this place to claim any more brothers. He looked up, "Either way, it'll make them happy."
Crosshair followed his gaze upwards.
"Vicious creatures, but you have to admire 'em. They found a way to survive."
Hexx's voice came over the com, "Raiders spotted inside the perimeter."
Both troopers swung around blasters ready, "I'll cover the West. You take the East. We'll cut them off." Mayday ordered.
Crosshair climbed to the watchtower and heard Hexx, "Veetch is down. Three raiders heading to the shuttle."
Within seconds, the shuttle exploded, blinding Crosshair; rubbing his eyes, enough sight returns to take his shot and he knows he's hit them. He rushes to find the intruder.
Kriff!
He'd only injured them, he squinted at the trail of blood leading towards the mountains, then set off alone, after the raider, ignoring Mayday's advice.
The trail leads to a tunnel and he slithers down a hill into it; searching in the dim light of the tunnel, until a noise disturbs him, he swings around aiming his rifle just to see Mayday behind him.
"One snow skiff took off down the western ridge while the others fled on foot down the mountain path." Mayday said."Wrong!" declared Crosshair and indicated the tunnel."So that's how they got past our defences."
Good work!
.
"Hexx and Veetch gone!" Mayday stared at the remains the other clones had retrieved for him. They understood the need to mourn, when they could, even though Nolan didn't. He carried their helmets back to be with their brothers.
Mayday carefully placed Veetch's helmet next to Hexx, both of them had been two of the best vode a clone could have and neither deserved to die guarding this place; they had been with him since way back, almost the beginning.
He felt his anger rising at the Empire; it was a much worse place than the Republic had ever been, for clones that is.
Jam had picked up transmissions showing Clone troopers being phased out; a Bill passed by the Senate retiring them. Many wouldn't know what to do, he was lucky. It wasn't ideal but he could live with it; when that happened he could go to Naboo.
If Hela would still have him.
His gaze involuntarily ran along the helmets from all the vode who had lost their lives here, in this Force forsaken planet. These were only ones he was able to retrieve; Cody was unobtainable by com and he feared the worst for him.
Now this new Imperial clone appeared.
He wanted to like him but was still unsure about him, until he saw him remove his helmet. He stared at him, the scar at the side of his head and the crosshair tattoo.
Crosshair saw him staring at it, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." He rasped, then nodded and stood with his helmet at his side waiting for Mayday to say his goodbyes.
Mayday stared at the helmets again.
"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum—Veetch, Hexx, Sev, Fi'ika, Rad, Jam, Plug, Tank…"
"What are you doing just standing around? Those raiders stole two crates of cargo during that attack. Send your troops after them."
Nolan's grating voice disturbed what little remembrance he could give his brothers. He clenched his fists, and breathed in deeply and evenly several times, slowly unclenching his fists as he turned to face the Lieutenant.
"Hexx and Veetch were killed. We don't have the manpower or equipment for a mission beyond the perimeter, especially just to recover a few crates—."
"It's not up to you to decide what is of value to the Empire." Nolan interrupted him.
"Then I need all your men for this mission." Mayday demanded.
Furious, Lieutenant Nolan spat out his reply, he was not used to having demands made of him by a clone of all things. The sooner they were replaced the better.
"And leave the outpost vulnerable to attack! I think not. This task falls to you two and you alone. Recover the cargo!"
Mayday pulled away from the urge to knock the sneer off Nolan's face; he wasn't worth expending the energy.
"Is that clear?" Nolan demanded.
"Yes. Lieutenant," He was still a soldier who obeyed his orders. They couldn't take that away from him.
.
Following the trail of blood into the tunnels near the depot, Mayday and Crosshair found the raider, propped up against the tunnel wall, dead from his wounds.
"He didn't get far." Commented Crosshair, satisfied the shot had eventually oroved fatal.
"I'm not sure what bothers me more," Mayday began, looking at the body, "that he's wearing armour stolen off my men or that they just left him here.""There's no point in carrying dead weight.""Remind me not to die on your watch." Mayday ground above them shook; dust disturbed by the movement, dropped from the ceiling."That's just the ice." Mayday says.
They moved further into the tunnel until Crosshair heard a click and looked down.
"Pressure mine!" Mayday said as he looked closer at the device.
"What were you saying about dead weight?" He asked.
"Do you know how to disarm it?" Crosshair rasped, he wasn't going to react to the attempt at humour.
"I'm not an explosives expert but as I don't feel like carrying your dead body back to the Outpost, I guess I'll give it a shot." Mayday retorted. Pulling off his helmet, he knelt on the floor to get a good look at it and blew the flakes of snow covering it away, "Hmm, this mine's a little different to ones I've seen before but I'm pretty sure they're all the same."
That didn't give Crosshair any confidence in Mayday's ability.
"Guess we'll find out soon enough, eh?"
Mayday kept talking and studying the mine.
Crosshair wished he'd shut up.
"I wish I had the proper equipment for this. The Empire's ignored all my requests. I've learned to improvise though. I guess all clones have had to since the War. Can't say I thought much about the war ending– until it did."
A lie. He had thought a lot about the war ending but he wasn't going to admit that to a clone he had only known a few hours.
"What unit were you with?"
"It doesn't matter." Replied Crosshair.
"Humour me, I could use the distraction." Mayday tapped at the mine with a small hammer, inserting a peg.
"Clone Force 99."
"What happened to them?"
"They're gone." Crosshair lied.
"And here we are." Replied Mayday, "The survivors. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments."
"A mission's, a mission." Replied Crosshair, seemingly unconcerned..
"Yeah. I used to say the same thing myself." Mayday replied, looking at his handiwork, "There. That should do it." He retrieved his helmet, just to see Crosshair's foot move a fraction, "Whoa, whoa. Don't pick up your foot yet. Wait until I tell you then lift it. Real slow like."
He backed away.
"I'll wait around the bend. If I don't hear a boom. Then I'll know it worked."
Mayday walked away.
"You're that confident in your work?" Asked Crosshair.
Mayday was now out of his sight.
"Oh I'm confident, I'm just not that stupid. Remember, nice and slow. On a count of three. One— two—three."
Crosshair slowly lifted his foot, nothing happened and he let out a sigh of relief hoping the Reg didn't hear it.
The two continued through the tunnels to emerge into the open.
. Hiding behind boulders outside the insurgent's camp, Crosshair used his scope and thermal sensors, "Multiple contacts inside. Two guards at the entrance."
"Ghh! Shouldn't be a problem for us." Mayday said.
Crosshair hummed in agreement and they set off down the slope.
Splitting up, both men crept upon their targets silently, grabbed them in headlocks and with quick twists, they were no longer then silently moved to the edge of the camp watching a group of insurgents argue, oblivious to what had happened to their colleagues; Crosshair tossed an electromagnetic pulse grenade into one group, causing panic before they easily picked the others disorganised insurgents were unprepared for reprisals; one attempted to flee with the stolen cargo on a snow skiff but Crosshair shot it picked off the others, and felt good about it, finally taking control, until three insurgents wielding electro-staffs rained blows down on him. Crosshair took them out, then more streamed out from the camp; the clones were desperation Crosshair shot a power generator, which exploded, taking out numerous insurgents and causing a landslide, eliminating the rest.
Mayday looked on, feeling satisfied at a mission well done; he hadn't felt like that since before Order 66 and it had been eating at him.
"Lets load the cargo." Ordered Mayday as he slid down the slope, away from the camp, towards the downed skiff.
"It's gear!" he exclaimed, as they inspected the open broken crates, "We've been risking our lives to retrieve this equipment when we could have been wearing it.""Yeah but not clone armour." Explained Crosshair.A disgruntled Mayday picked up a piece and studied it, "Right! New toys for the shiny new military, all we get are the scraps."
Crosshair agreed but didn't reply.
"After all the clones have done. After all we've sacrificed. We're good soldiers, we followed orders and for what?"
They both turned at the sound of loud knew what it was and the snow on the mountain moved, "Go!" He roared and they raced ahead of the rushing to outrun it, "Look out!" Mayday shouted, pushing Crosshair out of the way of the main wave of snow, as it forced them towards a rocky outcrop and engulfed them both.
.
After the roar of the avalanche, silence greeted Crosshair as he dug himself out of the soft snow, his armour had protected him against the weight and force of it; he pulled himself free and immediately searched for Mayday. He found him against a rock.
Alive—just!
"Mayday! Mayday! Wake up!"
Mayday roused himself, groaning, "I won't make it. Save yourself!" He slurred.
We don't leave anyone behind. Not again, not like I was. Crosshair pushed Mayday's helmet back on, then lifted and dragged him through the snow drift, to start the trek back to weather worsened and Crosshair struggled through the blizzard, until he could no longer move. He carefully propped Mayday against the rock, which was the best cover he could find and then huddled up close, their combined body heat would help both of them survive this white out. He hoped.
.
Ryloth
New Order - day 363
"Does it feel better, killing him?" asked Hela, as she watched Zur clean his sword, wiping it carefully along a piece of rag; it shone in the dim light of the room. It was no longer ceremonial, probably never had been. His tunic was covered in blood; she hadn't known a human could bleed so much and for so long.
There had been so much about Zur that she did not know.
She had never seen him like that, the eyes cold, so determined to exact revenge and he did, with precision, it was drawn out, not quick, but calculating in cold blood as they say.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold." Zur said as he checked his sword one last time, his eyes running the length of the blade, checking its sharpness, "It is best not to feel until it is over."
She had never thought of it like that but he was probably right. If you weren't cold and calculating you would never finish it. Not like he had.
She could still hear the Imperial's screams.
"You didn't answer me."
"The loss will not go away. But I am satisfied."
She turned away, avoiding seeing the body, then she heard the Twi'leks dragging something away. She glanced backwards, there was still blood on the sandy floor and a trail. She didn't think anyone had ever lost that much blood and remained alive.
"What's the matter? " he asked, his voice changed to one she knew, softer, friendly almost.
"It's just— I've never seen you like that. So cold."
"We're a cold blooded species."
"I would have said hot blooded." She replied.
"Complex."
"Aren't we all?" Hela chewed her bottom lip.
"Some." He replied waiting for the next comment but it never came.
"I was surprised you agreed to do what you did, and for me." He continued.
"I surprised myself."
"You were good. Amazing really."
"It didn't feel amazing. It felt terrifying."
"Good!"
"Why?"
"Then you're not blasé about it and doing work like that should always be terrifying. Are you alright?"
"No. But I still want to find Mayday, even if he is with the Empire but I also want to believe he isn't."
"We'll try. I'll see what Gobi says, if he has any more Intel on the clones. I think he owes you one."
A/N: this has the events in the Episode, The Outpost, in it.