Barton IV
Imperial Era.
Rebel Base.
Donca watched the clone again, he was taking up more of her time and still there was no further improvement. She did the checks on him yet again; he was fully hydrated, there was no infection. The dark mass in his brain had receded totally and she began to think now she had damaged his brain when she did the procedure.
She kept telling herself she did the right thing but the thought of actually harming someone under her care, was against everything she believed in, or had before the war.
Fulcrum had taken her idea away to clear with whoever they cleared this sort of thing with, which didn't sound promising but it was heartening to know they weren't alone in this, that there were other people who thought the same way as they did all over the galaxy.
She had felt so alone at first, just her and Finor of all people, who agreed with her that they should do something.
Considering the clone's wound, "I need to replace the bone fragment."
Kroll looked up from the stocktaking on their medical supplies, "Now?"
She realised she had spoken her thoughts, "I would have preferred him to regain consciousness fully but it's as good a time as any."
The fragment had been kept in Bacta and she couldn't leave it any longer. She wiped her hands on some flimsy towel, this wasn't going to be as invasive as the last time but her palms were damp with nerves at the thought of it, but she couldn't leave him like this. They didn't have the resources to continue the nursing care.
"Kroll! Let's prep. Just the two of us."
"You sure?" He asked.
"We can't do much more and can't leave him with a hole in his head much longer and we have nothing to cover it safely or permanently."
"The synth skin?"
"Have you looked at it?"
He grimaced at the thought, "I'll get ready." He replied. "I hope this is all worth it but if we can turn him, it will be. We need all the help we can get."
She was flattered to know he agreed with her. They were all finally coming around.
Kroll checked his vitals, as she carefully removed the synth skin she had originally attached. It had not adhered at all well to his skull, which told her it was counterfeit, they had been conned on that and now she had to put his skull back together because she didn't have anything as sophisticated as a bone knitter; she needed to put that on her shopping list.
She picked up the tiny piece of skull with a suction tool, and hesitated.
"You okay?" Asked Kroll, "Because he is so far but I'm not sure how long that will last."
She didn't answer but carefully replaced the bone, matching up the original cross she marked and scanned it on its highest magnification. It looked fine. She carefully squeezed the medical glue around it and stretched the flap of skin back over, which she had originally cut, using more surgical glue to ensure it adhered, then sprayed it with Bacta.
The final part was replacing the cage so he couldn't move his head too violently. She wished for a Bacta tank more than anything at this time.
She sighed when she finished, pulling off her gloves.
Kroll continued monitoring, "He's stable." he confirmed, "You can't do much more, at the moment."
She sat next to the clone.
"And you need some sleep."
"My operation. I'll follow it through."
"You can't do that if you're exhausted."
"I thought I was in charge." she smiled.
"You're exhausted. I'll check on him. You sleep. For at least four hours."
"Okay! Okay! But if anything happens….."
"I'll send for you."
.
Kamino
The Trainees lined up in full kit for inspection, fully loaded ARC backpacks and then some. Mayday wondered what else Alpha had in store for them. They had done this in their basic training; TAB in full kit and full back pack.
Alpha marched onto the training ground; his face blank, as usual.
"Attention!"
Their boots hit the floor in perfect unison.
"Endurance!"
There was silence from the trainees; they had learnt not to comment.
"And More endurance!" He emphasised it.
"I know you think you've done all this before." He straightened up slightly, "when you were shinies, seven, eight, nine years old. And out in the field. But be warned. That was nothing."
He walked along the line.
"As you all know the Commando training was devised by the best mercenaries and Bounty Hunters the galaxy had to offer. It was devised so that you do the job… and you survive."
He watched for any reactions.
"You all know first hand about TAB. You have your kit. This is the Commando kit. In the Special Forces context the exercise replicates advancing in small teams from the point of strategic insertion towards the theatre of operations while remaining undetected."
He looked around the group; he was proud of this lot.
"Report to Landing Platform Alpha, for deployment, when you land you will have forty eight hours to reach your objective —undetected."
He stood back at ease, frowning as he watched them leave. He let a small smile escape before heading up to the Landing Platform himself.
Lieutenant Prudii joined him as they walked towards their shuttle.
"Not a bad lot here." He commented. "Especially Wilco."
"Thought he was awkward." Alpha answered, still watching the trainees as they climbed aboard the LAATi.
"No more than some others I've trained. He's a natural for demolitions."
"He's a Command trainee." Alpha reminded him.
"And it shows but all our brothers like a good fight, or a good explosion, no matter what their rank."
He received a grunt in reply.
"You're not happy about doing this, on the planetoid?" Asked Prudii.
"Not sure if it can test them enough but the powers that be have dictated a shorter training programme, therefore, we had to find somewhere that could produce all the different weather and various terrains we used to train on."
Prudii nodded slowly, that was where he and his brothers had come in.
"So that's why we need the weather machine."
"Exactly!"
They strapped in and readied themselves for the flight, it was a relatively short one.
"You carry all you need." Alpha continued, staring ahead, "No man-made obstacles or tricks, just man against nature. Simple does not mean easy. Simple can also be primaeval, brutal— all the mental and physical excess swept away by necessity. And what's left? The raw intensity of man against nature; the human will pit against an unapologetic and silent adversary of rock and earth."
Prudii turned slowly to regard him, left eyebrow raised.
"The glorious feeling of the body working to its maximum capacity washes over you, makes your heart feel as though it is attacking the inside of the rib cage." Alpha continued.
"Very poetic. I didn't know you had it in you."
"Nah! I read it." Replied Alpha, dead pan.
"But?" Pushed Prudii.
"I was doing some digging."
"I knew you would."
"Funds for training were diverted."
"It's very often about Funds." He said cryptically. "But Jaing has done a good job here with the weather machine.
"I expected no less." Replied Alpha and he turned to watch the streaming lights of hyperspace.
.
Uncharted Planetoid
The two ARCs watched from the small observation station that had been set up on this tiny planetoid that didn't even have a name or designation.
The weather was about to turn nasty; if you call a simulation of Hoth nasty with malfunctioning HUD and armour.
"It will be as challenging as any planet you can find, more so." Prudii told him.
"That remains to be seen."
Alpha stood with his hands clasped behind his back and studied the training area.
"So what's different from a normal weather machine?"
"My brother's work."
"This can't be just your brother's work."
"He tinkered with some new tech that we found."
Alpha fixed him with a stare, "Anything else?"
"You know us." Prudii replied enigmatically.
Alpha did but sometimes he didn't want to.
.
The LAATi dropped them on a gentle rolling hill with green grass, reminiscent of Naboo and they started off jogging briskly, with their 80 lb backpack making no difference to their 6 km per hour pace. They had to keep up that pace, or more to get through in the allotted time.
"TAB, my shebs," muttered Mayday, as the temperate lush and green plains of Naboo underwent a metamorphosis into the frozen tundra similar to Hoth the higher they reached; this was much more. They pushed on, the icy blasts working through their armour and their temperature controlled body suits; this weather was being manipulated but that didn't make it any less real, which was why he was practically freezing to death now as he was trying to erect his personal tent on a snowy and windswept hillside.
He had been on a Pantoran moon and this was just like it; he wondered if this scenario was based on there. His training kicked in telling him they had to get shelter and warmth quickly.
He saw Wilco point upwards and followed his eyeline through the large snowflakes. Further up the hillside appeared to be an enclosed area, a cave. He signalled to Wilco to make for it and they followed at a distance; Wilco disappeared inside to investigate it. A couple of minutes later he reappeared, signalling okay and the rest of the squad made their way up.
It was noticeably warmer when he entered; Mayday touched the wall, it looked wet but felt warm to his touch and he wanted to scan it. By now their buckets were useless other than for seeing; they were being jammed, as part of the exercise. This could happen at any time, in an enemy controlled area and they needed to function without them. All their Intel had to come from their senses, experience and what they had learned over the past weeks. It was going to be an interesting TAB, if the first few hours were anything to go by.
.
Mayday woke and retrieved his ration pack. They had enough for the exercise. He shivered, it was still cold in the cave. He pulled the pin in the self heating container and waited the one minute it took to heat up. His squad mates were doing the same; he shovelled it into his mouth as fast as he could and drank his allotted ration of water.
Hydrated, fed and with limited sleep, they set off again, completing the climb at pace, keeping to at least 6 km per hour, even though the ice cold terrain had slowly given way to a breath sucking heat and moisture ridden woodland, where they had to hack their way through the undergrowth, to their target, whilst trying to remain undetected.
These changes were playing havoc with his senses.
"Kriff!" He heard someone exclaim, after swatting at one of the tiny flying insects that seemed to zone in on any minute piece of exposed skin. They continued at the same pace, despite the energy draining heat and moisture.
"Keep hydrated!" He ordered, through their private channel, although they should all remember that. His thighs burnt with the effort of dragging himself up the sharp incline until they emerged from the undergrowth, reaching the summit of whatever Shab'la mountain this was.
He looked behind him—heavily wooded area— ahead of him, a river and moorland. Exposed. Ambush territory. His senses told him this was a problem.
He dropped down on his stomach, his comrades did the same and they all took out the binocs and searched the horizon.
"All clear!" Declared Wilco.
The rest agreed, satisfied it was safe, he signalled for them to continue, they edged their way down the incline towards the river.
The heat and moisture was relentless, their rate of progress had slowed slightly, even though they had met no ambush on their way down.
Mayday checked the depth, with his HUD, his readings were still off. It was still being jammed or whatever they were doing to them. He looked for another way to measure the river. He didn't want to risk swimming it with his weighted backpack and unknown currents but it was the quickest route; he cut through an overhanging branch with his vibroblade and stripped it down, pushing it into the river, until it hit the river bed, then retrieved it.
"Just over waist high." He declared.
"Probably deeper in the middle." Observed Tank. "But it's a risk we have to take."
"Agreed." Confirmed Mayday. "Let's go!" He lifted his blaster rifle and back pack above his head and waded in; the shock of the icy cold water took his breath for a few seconds, in contrast, to the heat. His armour wasn't coping with the changes. He pushed through, it dipped in the middle, reaching his armpits, before becoming shallower as he emerged the other side. The current had been strong but nothing a fully fit trooper couldn't cope with.
He checked himself; water had a habit of hiding nasty little creatures in it, leeches they were called. Bloodsucking buggers. They stood in a circle and Veetch checked his back, as he checked Tank's.
"Clear!" The replies came back.
"Anyone notice the armour's no longer adjusting to the temperature." asked Wilco.
"Yep!" replied Tank, "The bastards have tampered with it."
They started off again.
.
A couple of hours later and the terrain had changed again; rocky outcrops with sparse vegetation and a biting wind with rain that whipped across their armour like grit and found the smallest chink. Without their HUD's they couldn't navigate the terrain and had to use their chrono and compass to judge. If their calculations were wrong they could be way off target.
He checked his chrono, time wise they were okay but would need to stop for rations soon. He knew they had been engineered to go for days without rations but that would affect their rate of progress and mental efficiency; then they would simply drop where they stood. He watched, as his brothers all had the same idea, checking their chrono.
The rain caused the rocks to be slippy like glass; Mayday blinked the sweat from his eyes. Trying to keep your balance here was difficult, reducing their speed. A broken limb would reduce it further. They kept going, hydrating on the run and chewing on ration cubes; the luxury of a heated ration pack was behind them now. They didn't know how long this was going to last and they couldn't wait on it. Then he saw it — Tank went head over tail and down the embankment.
They stopped.
Mayday looked over, Tank was hanging on with one arm, his other dangling useless beside him.
"I'll get down beside him." offered Veetch.
"Agreed. We're not leaving anyone behind. Signal when you're ready we'll pull him up."
Veetch hammered in his line, and one for Tank, then hooked himself on and abseiled down manually, reaching Tank in seconds.
Mayday watched closely, as Veetch attached the lines. He and Wilco stood ready waiting for Veetch's signal. He saw the thumbs up.
They pulled. Finally pulling him over the top. Wilco and Mayday fell back and pulled Tank into some cover.
"Wilco! Cover us in case they send out droids to check on us. We're behind."
"Copy that!" He dropped to his stomach and crawled to the edge.
Mayday scanned Tank.
"Dislocated shoulder and that gash in your leg." He didn't say that he could see the white bone through the cut. He sprayed it with coagulant and Bacta, and bandaged it. Then hit Tank with a painkiller and a stim.
"Thanks Commander but you should have left me. I'm only going to slow you down."
"Nobody gets left behind. Now let's sort that shoulder. Veetch?"
They all knew this procedure and it was painful.
.
Alpha studied the readouts.
"They're behind. Something's happened. Have we got eyes on them?"
Prudii tapped his datapad. "Just searching now. They've passed the markers on time apart from the one for the climb but they've not triggered any of the visuals."
Alpha followed the markers.
"What weather did they have?"
Prudii showed him.
"Not too bad then."
"Should I send up a probe?"
"No it's okay. They've just passed the next marker. They've got some time to make up."
.
"You have got to be kidding me." Groused Tank, as they reached the sheer rock formation blocking their path. They were so near now but they were all tired and this was the last hurdle, other than going the long way round, which based on is memory would take a day, at least; their rations were depleted as was their water. They didn't have their rappelling lines and this needed to be climbed using sheer strength.
"Anything could happen on a mission and this is testing our endurance." Veetch reminded him. "We can do this. We were born and bred for this. We've spent the last few weeks training for this. How's your leg?"
"Fine!" The trooper replied, "I can do this!"
Mayday could not have said it any better. He was a good man, Veetch, and Tank; this just clarified for Mayday that he should be with 212th. Specifically, his battalion when he gets it. Instead of going back to that Shab'la Jeti he had. Mayday had checked that one out; his casualty rate was way higher than most. He'd take Tank if he could but he was probably heading for SOB.
"Good man!" Mayday told Tank and pulled out another stim, jabbing him in the neck before he could move. He was the designated medic today although they had all had additional medical training, as part of this course. He could practically see him vibrate as the chemicals entered his system; he pushed him in the back. "Come on."
The squad looked up; they were going to have to break half way up and rest for a couple of hours attached to the rock face.
.
Three hours later, they reached the halfway stage and anchored themselves to the rock face, just on an overhang; it was getting dark. Climbing this was difficult enough and he didn't like the look of Tank. He only had a few painkillers and stims left.
The clones deployed a portaledge tent each; the kit served both purposes and they unclipped and unrolled the contraptions from the carry bags, and snapped them together. Adjusting them, they climbed in except for Tank.
"You all good, Tank?" Mayday asked.
"Yeah, Commander —good."
Mayday slapped his good shoulder, swung around and set up his own portaledge, before climbing in. This was a first for him but he felt as prepared as he could be.
.
Two hours of disturbed sleep was all they could afford. Mayday had heard Tank during those two hours, so no sleep had been had. He drank some water, that was the last of it and climbed out. Veetch and Wilco emerged soon after.
"Tank? You okay?" Asked Veetch.
"Yes, sir! Just a bit slow. But I can do it."
"Good man!" replied Veetch.
Mayday climbed over with his med pack.
"Come on lad. Let's get you ready." He jabbed a painkiller and stim in his neck, "It'll keep you going."
Tank rubbed his neck, "I'm ready."
"Good! Let's climb!"
Mayday and Veetch pulled Tank over the top of the cliff face; now they only had a few miles to jog now and they had less than an hour to finish. He didn't care if they were seen now or not, he was just converted to get Tank to medical. He was struggling. He and Wilco supported him, as they headed to the Coomand post, as it came into view, he struggled aganst their hold.
"Sirs. Let me finish." He struggled to get the words out. The loss of blood and pain was finally having an effect, "on my own two feet."
Wilco and Mayday let him go.
They and Veetch walked behind him as he crossed the final marker.
They had finished.
.
Veetch dragged himself into the trainees squad room; every muscle and bone in his body ached. He heaved his now lighter backpack off his back and let it drop onto his bunk, then he sank to his knees as his fellow trainees came in, all in a similar state.
"Alpha is a Shab'la chakaar!" He declared, "how did he ever think up all these scenarios and that last one."
"Experience." Muttered Mayday. "All this is based on his experiences in the field, what he had hoped he had been trained for. And the Nulls helped him."
"Yeah, I suppose so." Veetch went quiet, he'd had his own fair share of bad campaigns, including Geonosis. Nothing could have trained them for that, even the information about the Jedi had been off, especially his Jedi.
Mayday dropped his own backpack and collapsed backwards on his bunk, unsure whether to shower, sleep or eat. He needed all of them but couldn't decide which one was most important.
His body decided for him, as he closed his eyes for a few seconds he told himself. He fell asleep.
.