Repair Hangar

Hela watched the latest T-65B X-wing starfighters come into land; she had to admit they looked impressive, especially when the wings parted in flight and she itched to get her hands on them to check how well they had been built and maintained. The other ships had been a little hit and miss. They had been a mixture of the Republic's Z-24 Buzzbug, Z-28 Skywing, Z-29 Skyhawk and the multi-purpose Z-95 Headhunter starfighter.

All good machines in their day but most were well past their use by date.

Four landed. Merrick climbed from the cockpit of the first one; he wore his trademark blue flight suit. He was followed quickly by Dreis in a red flight suit from the second Xwing. Both ships looked to be well maintained but looks could be deceptive. She and Bil would check everything after what happened on the last U wing.

That was their role and these pilots depended on them.

Mayday came up beside her.

"What do you think?"

"The X-wing was the last starfighter developed by Incom Corporation. These are more prototypes. So I'm reserving judgement until I've looked at the GBk-585 hyperdrive motivators and Four 4L4 fusial thrust engines."

Mayday snorted,"Nerd." He gently held her elbow and leant in closer, "I meant the men in them."

"But the Xwing also has a Novaldex 04-Z cryogenic power generator."

"Double nerd."

She smiled, "Merrick has lovely eyes."

"I knew you were checking them over."

"I was checking the Xwing over."

"Whatever you say."

"I should thank him again."

"Hmm."

"Look. Don't touch. That's the rule, isn't it?"

"If you say so." He crossed his arms and stared ahead, "He's a good man, we could do worse. Dreis as well.'

"I know." Hela replied.

"You do?"

"He's very like Merrick. He's okay."

"High praise indeed. Coming from you."

"Merrick got rid of that arsehole sent from Draven to interrogate me."

"We definitely owe him then."

"We all do. Pity about the other one."

"Gartee? How is he still here?"

They were all still in the dark about him.

Mayday remembered the look in his eyes and he knew at some point he would have to deal with him or look over his shoulder all the time he was around. He couldn't do that and fully function.

He kissed her cheek.

"I have to go."

"So soon?"

"I have a new squad member to meet."

"Who is it?" She looked at the new recruits walking away from the ships. Most of them were pilots, except the large red haired woman striding towards them, dressed in some kind of fatigues.

She was big, impressive in a muscular way.

Hela turned to see Mayday watching the woman closely. She backed away, leaving him to introduce himself.

.

Mayday stared at the woman in front of him. She was big, broad shouldered; looked as if she could give him a run for his money. He had no worries about her strength but he hadn't worked with many women in his squad before.

He remembered Sister from the 501st but she had been a clone; he and his brothers supported her. She was a good fighter. A good vod.

He crossed his arms; Zak and Pol, standing a few steps away, exchanged glances, "Where was your last posting?"

"Alderaan Guard."

"Why did you leave?"

"My views on pushing back at the Empire weren't always appreciated."

"Your views?"

"Forthright. The Que — I thought I could do more good here. On the front line, a Commando."

Her bicep muscles twitched underneath her tight fatigues, as she said that.

"We don't actually have any Commando squads here."

"That's not what I heard."

"What did you hear?" Mayday was intrigued.

"Your squad is as near as it comes to matching the notorious Scar Squad."

"They're a myth."

"No. I've seen what they did on Aliyana. They're brutal."

"Are you saying we're brutal?" Asked Pol, fascinated by the woman talking to the Boss.

She looked him straight in the eye, "No. Just that you're the only ones that I've seen that can come anywhere near stopping them and they need to be stopped."

"Okay. Let's see what you can do." Mayday turned 180 degrees towards the entrance.

"Where are we going?" She asked, following anyway.

"Training session."

.

Ria leaned over, bracing her arms on her thighs, catching her breath. The workout through the woods had been thorough. It was a similar environment to Alderaan but more overgrown, different small mammals, all ready to rake a chunk out of you.

Mayday came towards her, sweating but he had already caught his breath. She was impressed. She had seen the white armoured clones when she was younger but not their faces and she had heard about them, when she first started with the Guard. The Queen's husband talked about the brave soldiers of the Republic, then they stayed with the Empire. This one was different. She wondered why he was different.

"Through there." He pointed.

She peered through the gap, wondering if this was some kind of hazing or initiation right. They had those in the Guard but no it was an outside gym.

"Okay. Keep up with us!" Instructed Mayday. He would see if those defined muscles she displayed were just for show or not.

He dropped, starting push ups, he set a gruelling pace.

The squad followed him, as did Ria.

.

"So it's the first time we've had a female in the squad." Said Tycho, in the showers.

Pol shook his head; despite his warnings, Tycho was still going there. He had warned him not to. He had grown up with sisters. They could be brutal in so many different imaginative ways.

"Is that a problem?" Ria smiled.

"Nah. Just not used to it. What do we need to do differently?"

"Nothing, farm boy." She'd picked up on his accent. "I'm one of you now. The Boss just said so."

"But—"

"Give it up, Tycho. She's as good as the rest of us." Pol interrupted, he could see she was doing something with a towel, wetting it under the shower head.

This wasn't going to be pretty.

The corner of the towel flicked out with precision at Tycho, hitting him with a crack.

"I just—ow!" His hand went to the back of his head,"What was that for?"

"For being gobby."

She flicked the towel out again.

"Ow!" She hit him again with the corner of the wet towel, carefully placed where it hurt most.

Pol roared with laughter while Tycho glared at him.

"Where is he by the way?" She asked, ringing out the towel.

"Who?"

"The Boss. Who else?"

Pol turned away and concentrated on drying himself. "Gone to see someone."

"Someone? Who? I am a member of this squad."

The two men exchanged glances.

"You'll find out." Pol replied

"When?"

"Soon. Why are you so interested?"

"I just like to know who I'm dealing with."

"You're dealing with one of the best." Zak replied, rubbing the water from his hair, grinning at the altercation.

.

"So. What's she like?" Asked Hela, her arms still wrapped tightly around his neck, his head braced against the fresher; they were both breathing hard, coming down from the high. Mayday slipped out of her and she let her legs drop from his hips. He let her down slowly, feeling her knees shaking as she put her weight on her legs. She was itching to know about the new squad member. She had never seen anyone quite like her before.

"Jealous?"

"No—yes—no. Should I be?" She asked worried.

"You know the answer to that."

She did. He had never given her any indication to think otherwise, not since they got back together. He'd been open about Lin. He was only man who she truly trusted, other than Zur.

"She's good. I think she'll do well. She's got the measure of Tycho already."

He pushed the wet hair away from her face and kissed her cheek.

"That doesn't say much." She replied when he broke away.

"I think she'll fit in well. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm more than okay." She leaned up and kissed him back, "You're here and I'm working, finally doing something."

He switched the water back on and they let it run over themselves until they were clean again; pulling back the shower door and let Hela out before him.

"You ready for something to eat?"

"I am." Her appetite had returned now she was back working.

"You'll meet her then."

"What's her name again?"

"Ria. Ria Amant of Alderaan.

.

The laughing stopped as he walked into the mess hall.

He stood at the entrance and took in the room, as any soldier or Spec Ops would do.

The time had come for a showdown.

'I don't like you,' Gartee called out, looking right at Mayday. Hela squeezed his hand tight but there was no way she could hold him back.

Gartee's eyes were small, his skin unnaturally shiny. He was human, but huge. Mayday thought he must be taking some kind of chemical enhancements; he had to be, to reach the size he was.

Banned compounds seeped from his pores,Mayday could smell them, they lingered in his throat. He also wondered if he had any internal modifications. Way back, the Separatists had a place on Skako that did those things. It happened to a clone, one of Rex's ARCs.

They had the audacity to accuse Hela and he was still very angry about that.

But he knew he needed more than anger.

"I know. You already said." he replied quietly, not wishing to escalate it into a Mess Hall brawl. This wasn't the GAR.

Gartee walked over, as quickly as his muscle bound legs could allow.

"We should arm wrestle," he said.

"What?" Asked Mayday not disguising the disbelief in his voice.

"We should arm wrestle," he said again.

Mayday felt Hela shrink away from him, as he came up right next to them.

He towered over Mayday, almost blotting out the light.

"This isn't the gym and I don't want to arm wrestle,"

The mess hall was silent, all eyes were on the two men.

"We should."

"Why." Asked Mayday, who studied his hands, apparently bored by the conversation.

Hela was staring; he followed her eye line. She was staring at Gartee's hands. They were clenched into fists, but they weren't huge. And drugs don't do anything for a person's hands, unless they exercise them, and most people don't think to do that.

But the Kaminoans and the clone's trainers did.

"To find who's best."

"I know I'm better than you, so there's no point."

Gartee's fist hit the table leaving a dent. Hela stared at it.

Mayday ignored it.

"We should arm wrestle." He repeated.

Mayday shook his head, "I'm asking again—why?"

"So we don't demolish the Mess Hall."

"We wouldn't."

"Coward," Gartee said.

Mayday heard Hela suck in a breath but said nothing.

"Coward," he said again.

"That's done it." muttered Zak. He tensed ready to back up Mayday.

"What's in it for me when I win?" Mayday asked, leaning back in hus chair. He felt Hela squeeze his arm again. He knew what she wanted. She wanted him to walk away from this but he couldn't do that. This— chemically enhanced thing — had threatened the people he called family, disrespected him and every other clone; he couldn't let all that go.

Gartee barked out a laugh.

"Not a chance in Mustafar."

"Let me rephrase it. What's in it for the winner?"

"Satisfaction," he said.

Mayday shrugged, "Okay."

"Okay what?'

"Okay, let's do it,"

Gartee seemed surprised, but moved to a table quickly and swept it clear; plates and mugs clattered on the floor. The droids would tidy up the debris.

Mayday took off his jacket and handed it to Hela.

"Mayday don't do this. He's huge."

"Don't worry. I've got this Cyar'ika." He touched his forehead quickly to hers and then undid his sleeve and rolled it up his shoulder. Compared to Gartee, his arm looked thin. But Mayday's muscle came from pure genetics, Kaminoan expertise, not from some pharmacist's flask.

He kissed Hela and she walked over to the squad, standing next to Ria.

They sat down facing each other across the table and planted their elbows on it. There was an ear splitting crack, as they slapped their palms together and gripped. Gartee's hand felt cold and damp on Mayday's.

Tycho stood at the head of the table.

'Go,' he said.

Mayday cheated from the outset.

The aim of arm wrestling is to use the strength in your arm and shoulder to rotate your hand downward, taking your opponent's hand with it, flat to the table. He knew he had no chance of doing that, not against him. His arms were like tree trunks; Alpha would have struggled against him.

It was going to be all he could do to keep his own hand in place. So he used a trick taught to them by Alpha.

He didn't even try to win, he just squeezed.

Evolution gave humans an opposable thumb, which means it can work against the other four fingers like a pincer and the Kaminoans didn't change that. Mayday lined Gartee's knuckles up and squeezed hard.

Hela watched as Mayday stared into his opponents eyes, totally focused on what he was doing, squeezing his hand.

Mayday felt the knuckles start to crush. Then he squeezed harder and harder. His opponent didn't give up, he was very strong. Mayday kept the pressure on.

He was sweating now and breathing hard. Zak was timing them; they held it for a whole minute, both straining and quivering in the silence. Ria watched fascinated. She knew what he was doing if the others didn't.

He squeezed harder and finally saw the pain register in his opponent's face. Then he squeezed even harder.

Mayday continued to stare into his opponents eyes and saw the decision flickering there; Gartee knew Mayday was cheating but couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't complain 'he's hurting me! It's not fair!' That would make him sound like a Loth Cat kitten and he wouldn't be able to face that.

Mayday continued his stare and squeezed still harder. Sweat was making his skin slippery, so his hand was slippery but the pain was all right there in his knuckles.

"Enough!" Merrick boomed. Mayday had not seen him enter and didn't loosen his grip; his opponent didn't back off with the pressure. His arm was as solid as a tree.

"I said enough! This isn't a Hutt Cantina! Both of you have work to do!"

Mayday raised his elbow up high, so his opponent couldn't surprise him with a last-ditch effort. He looked away and dragged his arm off the bench. They both let go.

Mayday saw the marks left on Gartee's hand, vivid red and white. The ball of his own thumb felt like it was on fire.

Gartee pushed himself off the chair and stood up, then walked straight out of the Mess Hall.

The conversation started up again once the door had closed.

"That wasn't very clever." Merrick said. "You just made another enemy and we have enough with the Empire."

"He shouldn't be here." Replied Mayday. "Should've left with Cobban. We don't need him."

"I agree. But I was told to keep him here."

"Was I supposed to lose? I'm a clone. We weren't built that way."

"No I suppose not." Merrick crossed his arms and watched the man in front of him. He was beginning to understand the clone but didn't like what was happening here and he was still being kept in the dark over Gartee. This— between the two of them was the last thing he needed and he knew it still wasn't over.

Mayday looked around for Hela; she had gone.

.

Repair Hangar

Mayday stared at the booted feet hanging from underneath the fuselage and perched precariously on the small steps, on tiptoe.

"Why did you leave?"

He heard a thud, then, "Fuck!"

Hela slid out and down, and sat on the steps, rubbing her head, "There's not much room in there." A small lump was already forming.

"Why?"

"I have work to do and I don't like seeing you hurt."

He waggled his thumb.

"It's fine."

She narrowed her eyes in disbelief, "I bet it still hurts. Why did you do that?"

He crossed his arms, "I don't like to lose."

She sighed, "I still have two more to check. Then every ship has a clean bill of health."

"Good. We'll meet back in the Mess Hall and finally get some food."

"I'll be there. Save me some."

She watched him walk away then, ticked the box on her datapad against the serial number on the hyperdrive. Two more, then she can do something more interesting. She smiled to herself.

.

She was just putting something vaguely resembling stew into her mouth when Zak shouted, "Hela! Merrick needs the figures for the U wings. You didn't send them."

She chewed fast and swallowed quicker, "Yes. I've got them here." She reached in her belt for her datapad but found nothing; she rolled her eyes, "Sorry. I must have been interrupted." She glanced at Mayday, "and left it in the hangar. I'll get it." She rose to leave.

"Nah! Finish your food. I'll get it."

"Last one in the last row. Thanks." She leaned against Mayday, she was tired; it had been a long day.

.

Zak wandered through the hangar.

"Last one in the last row." He muttered searching. Then he saw the steps and it was underneath. He knew her method of working; she always put it there. He reached underneath the ship, grabbed the pad and just about to back out when he heard a metallic creak and groaning. He stopped, looked around, unsure exactly where it was coming from.

Then with a screech, the ship dropped.

He opened his eyes; his side and back were sore, where he hit the floor. He didn't think he had hit his head. He pulled his arm to touch his face and was able to move all around his head —just. He tried to look around but there was no room to move. He tried to pull his leg out but when he tried that, the pain began and he couldn't stifle a scream of pain.

He was trapped and there was something wrong with his leg.

Once the pain subsided, he tried to move his leg again but decided that was not a good idea. The whole hangar was dark. He squirmed to get to his com. Pulling his other arm around. He couldn't see it but felt along it and pressed the button to open a channel.

Nothing.

He was in trouble.

.

Hela shook her head at Tycho's joke; they got worse. Then she yawned and leaned against Mayday. She was tired and needed to sleep; if Mayday let her.

She automatically reached for her datapad and realised Zak wasn't back yet. She commed him. Unobtainable.

"I need to go to bed."

"I agree." Muttered Mayday into her neck.

Ria realised her eyebrows; he was not usually this open with her there.

"No. I need to get my datapad. Zak's not brought it back and I can't raise him in the com. But the signal's spotty in the hangar. All the shielding."

.