Thirty Five
'You had to give it to Chopper and Boil. They never missed a beat.
The two swung into line along with the rest of the newly formed 'Vader's First' as if they belonged there from the very beginning.
Appo never even knew. He was so wound up the Sith's shebs we could have almost done anything and he wouldn't have noticed.
We'd made a decision.
The decision really.
Not to tell Sats the plan to defect. In a way, we knew what his answer would have been. He was a true brother, and it wasn't his fault anyway; the cold reality of his blind loyalty to the new regime.
We'd concluded that what Coric had said was right.
Whisk knew it as well.
Deep down.
Just more genetic manipulation at the hands of the Empire. We really are puppets. It's now or never. Time to make a stand, time to do something.
We can longer stay.
Whisk is fading away, emotionally as well as physically. Gaunt from worry, guilt ridden over Sat's.
It's hard.
Really hard.
But Coric is keeping us together.
Keeping us going; one ubiquitous white boot after another.
Chopper and Boil were on board from the very beginning. So, when the word was given to meet the transport bringing in supplies, as it had done every month for the past four years, there was no choice other than to follow them through.
Come what may.'
.
"Use this comm code. It's an oldie, but a goodie. None of the desk jobs sitting in front of the big box will think to look there."
"Big box?" Whisk asked.
"Communications hub you di'kut!" Chopper was in his element. Even though they were slap bang in the middle of orchestrating deserting their post, he still enjoyed taking the piss out of the two younger men.
"Whisk," Boil said with a calm voice, "just try and keep any comments brief. If they even get a sniff of what's going on, they'll be all over us."
"Here," Coric said handing a small white tablet over to Didge, "break it in half, it'll take the edge off."
Didge knew what it was, he'd had one recently, when things were beginning to take their toll. Coric had taken over watch of the two when Whisk was no longer capable. The sniper's compulsive behaviour had careered to an all time high and he had to wear his gauntlet's lining gloves to hide the traumatised skin covering his hands. Coric had seen the pain written all over his face. Pulling him into the med bay, he was shocked at the state of his hands. Deep cracks, painful swelling and blisters oozing fluid.
"Ah Didge," he said soothingly, "why didn't you see me earlier?"
Didge just shook his head and stared down at them, unable to move a finger without wincing.
'These are my burden to bear.'
"Come on, we'll put them in bacta for an hour. That should help. Then this cortisol cream, twice daily ok?"
"Sure," Didge mumbled, "sure."
.
Chopper and Boil slid in behind Whisk and Didge. Whisk turned and quickly switched to their private channel.
"What did you do with 79 and 83?"
"Shut the fek up will ya?" Chopper hissed.
"Tell me!" He roared down the headpiece.
"What didn't we do with 79 and 83 you mean?"
"Chopper, I swear?"
"Hold onto your panties. We locked them in the 'fresher. They'll be none the wiser as to who when they manage to get out."
Whisk sighed. Every time he thought about leaving and getting free, it came at a cost to a brother.
Someone was always affected.
To be honest, Whisk didn't care whether he got away or not. Leaving Sats behind had proven harder than he initially thought. They were in more mortal danger leaving. With no active war on, Sats would do alright on routine patrols.
But without anyone.
Whisk looked over at Didge and slowed down. Boil was onto him and quickly sidled up next to the young medic, pushing Didge over slightly towards Chopper.
"I got you Whisk, you're with me."
"I'm ok," he shot back.
"Good, you can cover my shebese then."
Didge looked over at Boil as the 212th marched next to Whisk. The seasoned trooper was quiet and kept to himself. Coric had told both Whisk and Didge what had happened on Umbara.
Boil knew loss and the emotional pain that went with it.
He had survived.
'And so will I.'
They made sure they were the last group to help with the documentation and unloading of supplies from the transport shuttle. She was a good ship, one that could make it to hyperspace, albeit not as fast as Chopper would have liked. Both he and Coric would pilot the craft once they took control of the bridge.
That meant only one of two things.
They had to convince the pilots out of the cockpit, or kill them.
"Coric?"
"I see them."
They all had and their heart rates acted accordingly, sending the monitor in their buckets ringing.
Another patrol of men moving in fast on their right.
"Easy men. If it's not this month, it's next ok?"
Coric and Chopper went inside as Whisk, Didge and Boil stood guard of the loading ramp.
"Trooper?"
Boil stepped forward and did the talking.
"Sir?"
"Three men guarding the ramp? What is she transporting?"
"Plutonium for fuel cells sir. They think there may have been a small leak. We have a hazmat team on board"
It was quick thinking by Boil and he remained out in front before he casually resumed parade rest. The lieutenant in charge thought for a moment before he waved his group back.
"I'll place two guards at the perimeter, and I'll need hazmat updates as they come to hand."
"Copy that."
The three collectively held their breath as they watched the patrol march off and split into two.
"Boil, get your shebs up here and bring the Rookies with you."
"Fek you Chopper," Whisk said into his bucket.
"All in good time my friend, all in good time," he laughed back.
"Enough of the chit chat gentlemen," the sound of Coric's voice was reassuring.
Things had gone to plan.
It was time to lift off and leave Coruscant.
Forever.
.
"Is he going to be alright?" Rex closed the door silently and looked up at Echo as he leant up against the wall in the darkness.
"He'll be fine Echo. He's just tired. Ahsoka's in there with him now." Rex rolled his neck, listening to the cracking vertebrae, it had been an unusually long day and finding a 'dead' ARC was a surprise he wasn't prepared for.
A pleasant surprise.
"You must be hungry?"
"Caf would be good."
Echo pushed off the wall and lead the way into the kitchen.
Rex watched him as he followed, "by the core Echo, there's something different about you. I just, I just can't put my finger on it."
"Taller."
"Is that it?"
"Yes," he didn't elaborate further, and Rex was just too tired to enquire.
He'd find out soon enough.
.
"Fek! Does he always sleep this long?"
Darman shook his head, "no, but he took a full shot to the chest."
"So did you," Ordo commented as he lifted the medi bag over his head and began unpacking, Darman thought he seemed even more annoyed than usual.
He had woken first from the stun shot to the body. Although groggy and sore, he had managed to get to Niner's helmet and send off a code red to the Kyrimorut team.
And now they were here.
To help.
Darman couldn't say anything as he watched Ordo take Niner's vitals.
All his fears had come racing back; and for the first time he allowed himself to relive a memory that up until now, he had pushed to the back of his mind.
For some reason, it felt right.
It was okay for him to feel the loss.
To just feel.
It was if he could finally take a breath.
Etain wouldn't mind.
Would she?
Ordo and Atin were there, and they were going to take them home.
All Niner had to do, was wake the fek up.
.
