Saga Imperial Commando: Brutality

So, I've got another fic going, but I'm kind of burned out on it right now, honestly, because the bad reviews of Crucible had soured me on post-NJO stuff (most of it, anyway). I'll continue that later. For now, here's this.

Prologue

2 months post-Order 66

The hot water poured down over Boss' head, soaking his jet-black hair and instantly loosening his taut back muscles. He sighed in elation and licked his lips. The events of the Shinarcan Bridge replayed themselves in his mind; he hadn't been there but he'd heard them replayed in excruciating detail by Niner and several other clones that had been there.

Etain, standing on the bridge, leaping in front of a clone to save him from a panicked young Padawan. Etain had cared more about the soldier, a man she'd never met, than a Jedi–one of her own. She had died for it.

Boss shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. He snatched a towel off a nearby rack and dried his hair and shoulders. He wrapped the towel around his waist, exited the 'fresher, and moved into the barracks. He pulled on his black bodysuit and looked at the armor, stacked neatly beside his bed. For the first time in his life, he didn't want to put it on.

The Jedi didn't betray us.

This he knew, without a doubt. Maybe they'd moved on Palpatine. So what? Since when had Palpatine been the absolute authority over the entire Republic? Chancellor, yes, but never dictator. Well, until now. Boss scowled. Seems awfully convenient that he decides to become Emperor after this supposed Jedi strike.

Fixer walked in, clad in his black-and-charcoal-gray armor sans helmet, which he held under his left arm. In his right hand he held a datapad. Fixer glanced up at Boss.

"You going to stand there staring at that armor all day, Boss?" Fixer asked. "We've got training with the 501st in ten."

Boss nodded. "Er, right, Fixer. Right."

He began strapping on the plates, wishing he had his old white-and-orange armor. This black-and-gray didn't make any difference to him as far as defense, but...well, since the declaration of Palpatine's New Order, the clones had become less and less personified, more and more faceless soldiers. Of course, they were soldiers, nothing more. Boss didn't want it any other way. But he always felt they'd been fighting for a cause. They'd fought the Seps because Dooku had been corrupt. What if this Empire was just as bad–or worse–than Dooku's lackeys?

Not a thought Boss liked to ponder.

Armor strapped on, he picked up his E-11 rifle–it had taken awhile, but they'd finally replaced the DC-17, to Boss' supreme annoyance–and headed for the shooting range.

 

Interesting start!

This was kinda creepy and sad at the same time... but true.

 

Thanks! Yeah, it was incredibly sad what happened to them.

Chapter 1

The 501st boys were about the only white jobs that Boss could say he enjoyed target practice with, because those boys were good. Boss entered the shooting range, cocked his E-11, and moved up to an empty target. He took aim and fired. Each bolt was a perfect kill–head or heart. Fixer and Scorch moved in beside him and took up their own firing positions.

"IC-1138," said a voice behind them.

Boss turned. A non-clone officer, brown haired with a dirty complexion that suggested he definitely was not originally from Coruscant, stepped up. He held a datapad in his hand, which he passed to Boss. Boss took it and glanced down.

"What's this?" he asked.

"A private message for your squad," the officer said. He frowned. "That's all I know sir. That, and they told me to tell you not to view it until you were alone with your squad in the barracks."

"Thank you," Boss said.

The officer nodded, turned, and marched away. Boss rolled his eyes and clipped the datapad to his belt. He sighted up again and fired. His E-11 had a spasm and fired into the floor in a 501st guy's booth. The trooper cried out in surprise, ripped off his helmet, and threw it to the floor in anger.

"Blast it all, you could've killed me!" the trooper said.

"Sorry," Boss muttered. "It's this blasted rig."

The trooper, looking guilty, nodded. "Yeah, I know. My name's Coric." He held out a hand.

"Boss." He held out his own hand, shaking Coric's. He frowned. "Something wrong, trooper?"

Coric winced. "Ah, it's nothing. My CO, Rex, is missing. Don't know if he's KIA or went AWOL, but he's gone. Along with a few other troops from the unit."

Boss nodded. "Seems to be happening a lot lately. I know a few commandos who took off."

Coric raised an eyebrow. "No kidding?"

"No kidding."

There was a buzz, and the intercom came on. "All troopers in the 501st regiment, commandos included, are to report to the briefing room immediately, no delays."

Boss sighed. "Fixer, Scorch. Let's go."

He tossed a casual salute at Coric and moved into the hall. Fixer moved up beside Boss and snagged the datapad. He scanned the contents briefly.

"Looks like a text-only message," he said, "highly encrypted. It's either from our higher-ups or..."

Boss frowned. "Or what?"

"You know Skirata's boys," he finished. "If Vau or someone wanted to get us a message, this is the way to do it."

"You think they want us to desert?"

"No way," Scorch interrupted. "We're staying here; we're staying until we get deployed back to Kashyyyk so I can look for Sev."

"We could do that a lot easier if we weren't here, actually," Boss muttered.

"You'd desert?" Fixer asked coolly.

Boss wasn't sure, and it scared him. Atin, Fi, and Corr had. Niner and Darman definitely wanted to; that was obvious to every member of the commando unit. And now the rumors of non-commandos like this Rex possibly deserting?

"I'm not sure," he muttered. "Let's just get to that meeting."

 

Chapter 2

Roly Melusar wasn't in the briefing room. Boss frowned. The commandos and 501st infantry had been assembled, and Melusar should've been here minutes ago. Where was he? Helmet resting on his knee, Boss looked around the room. The 501st was still an all-clone unit; there weren't any mongrel troopers here. Thank the Force for small miracles.

Finally, the door swished open. But it wasn't Melusar that entered. It was Darth Vader.

Boss felt a chill go down his spine starting at the base of his skull. Vader had always set off Boss' early warning alarms. It was more than just the fact that he was the Emperor's right hand; Vader had that cool menace about him that made everyone nearby feel like their blood was ten degrees cooler.

"Men of the 501st," Vader said, "I want to congratulate you on your recent successes in taking down the remaining Jedi traitors. However, this is only the beginning. Recent studies have shown that many clone soldiers have disappeared, whether dead or deserted. These clones are suspected of being part of the Jedi Conspiracy. So, you will be tasked with tracking them down and bringing them back. I know you do not want to kill your brothers." He leaned forward on the podium. "But if they resist, you are ordered to use whatever means necessary to take them down. Your targets will be transmitted to your helmets. Dismissed."

Boss rose with the rest, his helmet tucked under his arm. His gaze crossed to Squad 40. Niner and Darman had been acting strange lately–he wondered if they were planning to desert and find Fi, Corr, and Atin. More power to them, he mused.

"So, who'd we get?" Boss asked.

Fixer put his helmet on, frowning. "Interesting...this clone doesn't have a number, just a name...Cut Lawquane. He deserted as far back as right after Geonosis...how could he have been part of the Jedi conspiracy?"

"He wasn't," Boss snarled disgustedly. "Palps just doesn't want loose ends."

"He's on Saleucami," Fixer said, "and according to this he was only just recently located by Commander Neyo and his men. Wonder why they didn't bring him in."

"Who knows?" Boss muttered. "Come on, we still have that private meeting to deal with."

They entered the barracks, confirmed no one was nearby, and slammed the door shut. Fixer checked for listening devices and Scorch checked for booby traps. Boss frowned. He and his team were getting paranoid.

"Did they want us to bring Tenn?" Fixer asked.

Tenn was the fourth member of the squad, the replacement for Sev. But they'd pretty much done all they could to avoid him without being rude. Tenn still hung with his old friends from other squads when they'd been in the GAR, so he didn't mind.

"Probably not," Boss replied. "And if they did he can be filled in later."

He looked around the barracks and didn't see anything. He frowned. What was going on here? Suddenly one of the 'fresher doors slid open and a man stepped out. He had dark hair, slicked back, and he wore black combat armor–not clone or stormtrooper armor, but something a hired assassin or mercenary might wear.

"Who are you?" Boss asked.

"A friend," the man replied hastily. "Listen, my time here is short, so I can only deliver this message once, and then I'm out of here. You're being watched. They suspect you because Vau jumped ship. If you even mess up once they'll kill you. Use discretion on the Lawquane mission. You need to–"

The door chimed and began to swing open. The man's eyes widened, alarmed.

"I have to go. Remember: they're watching."

The man shot out of the room, leaving Boss, Fixer, and Scorch to ponder this new and frightening prospect. Two commandos, the ones who'd opened the door, stepped up.

"What's up?" one asked.

Boss turned. "Nothing. We need to go. Shuttle leaves to Saleucami at 1900. Scorch, go find Tenn and meet us at the landing pad."

Scorch nodded. "On it."

Boss wondered who really was watching them, and what was about to happen.

* * *

Falco Sang had once been feared. He'd been the best assassin in the galaxy, able to kill anyone from Huttese enforcers to Black Sun vigos, and anyone in between. But then had come Dass Jennir, and Falco had been captured by Darth Vader and forced to work for him.

Now, Falco limped back like a wounded akk dog to Vader's private sanctum. The Dark Lord was in his meditation chamber, back turned to the door. Falco dropped to his knees, forced there by fear and despair, and waited.

One day, he thought, one day Vader will pay for making me into this.

Falco glanced up as Vader's heavy breathing changed. The Dark Lord rose from his chamber and walked over to the assassin's kneeling form.

"You have delivered the message?" Vader asked.

Falco nodded. "Yes, Lord Vader. The members of the team once known as Delta Squad now believe they are being watched."

"Good. Follow them to Saleucami. Report to me on how their mission proceeds. Cut Lawquane was an infantry trooper that never made it past private. If four commandos cannot take him, then I will know that my suspicions are correct. Dismissed."

Falco's legs carried him out of the sanctum, even as his mind demanded that he pull out his blaster and pump it into Vader's respirator until either the Dark Lord died or reflected the bolts back into Falco's body. Either way, it would be over. But he kept moving, because he had to live.

He always had to live.

 

Very nice

 

Great story so far. Excited to see what happens next.

 

Chapter 3

Saleucami
12 hours later

Boss checked his E-11 rifle, wishing desperately for the hundredth time that he had his old DC-17 back. Blast it all, he didn't want to be killing his brothers! Even if this Lawquane came peacefully...Boss was still basically taking him to his death. The shuttle touched down, and Boss was forced out of his thoughts.

He moved into the field, Fixer, Tenn, and Scorch behind him. The farmhouse was ahead; simple and Spartan. There was nothing threatening about it, nothing to suggest that it was housing an ex-military deserter. Boss made a hand motion, ordering Tenn to move up onto a hill to take sniping positions while Scorch and Fixer flanked the house. Boss went up to the front door.

"Lawquane!" he called, amplifying his voice through his helmet's loudspeaker. "Come out and surrender! This will be a lot easier on you if you give up now. We won't harm you if you come out now!"

No response.

"Lawquane, I don't want to hurt a brother. I have my orders, and I hate 'em. But I have to do this. Please don't make me take drastic measures."

"I don't think he's coming out, Boss," Fixer said over the squad's private comlink.

"I have a clear view into the house," Tenn said. "No sign of targets."

"Staying out of view of snipers," Boss said, switching from loudspeaker to the private channel. "He's smart. All right." He switched back. "Last chance, Lawquane! Come out with your hands up!"

The door slid open, and Boss snapped his rifle up. But the only person there was a female Twi'lek, pink-skinned, wearing tanned leathers. She had an antique rifle.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Is this Lawquane's home?" Boss asked.

"I'm Lawquane," she said, "Suu Lawquane; what do you want?"

"I'm looking for Cut Lawquane, ma'am." Shab, I didn't know he was married.

"My husband is in the fields," Suu said. "He's not here. We don't want anything to do with your Empire. Please, go away."

Boss sighed, switching back to his private channel. "Do we want to do this?"

"Have to," Tenn bit off.

"I saw in a window," Scorch said soberly. "They've got kids. Two of them."

Blast. "Ma'am, we'll come back later. Sorry for the inconvenience."

"Better that you don't come back at all," she snapped. "I told you, we don't want the Empire here."

"Well, we don't want to be here either. Are you sure Cut isn't here?"

She nodded.

Back to the private channel; "Fixer?"

"Only three life-forms, Boss. She's telling the truth."

"Sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am. Goodbye."

She nodded. "Goodbye."

She closed the door. Boss stepped back toward the shuttle, signaling the squad to circle around him. Fixer and Scorch looked depressed, but Tenn looked piping mad.

"What the kriff was that, sir?" Tenn demanded. "We should've used the family as leverage!"

"What the kriff that was, Private Tenn, was my order. Got a problem with it?"

Tenn shuffled his feet. "No, sir. Sorry. Just want to get the job done."

"Scan the fields for life-forms," Boss said. "Lawquane's out there somewhere."

He really didn't want to do this. Shab, Lawquane had kids! A wife! They'd feel his loss! It was one thing to deal with renegade clones who went into seclusion, like that ARC Sull had. It was another to do it to one who'd made a family. Boss made a private hand motion to Scorch and Fixer, one only they understood–and Sev, he reminded himself–and they went to the channel separate from Tenn's helmet.

"Talk to me, squad," he said.

"I say leave him," Scorch said. "No reason to interfere with an entire family. One man's one thing, but an entire family's another."

"My thoughts exactly," Boss muttered.

"I'm not sure," Fixer said. "Part of me, the part that's loyal soldier, wants to bring Lawquane in. The part of me that's human being wants to get off this place."

"Remember, though, we're being observed," Boss added. "We don't know by whom, but we are."

"Could even be a cam built into our shuttle," Fixer noted.

"And we can't disable it without looking suspicious. We're in a bind."

Boss considered, and his eyes widened at the simplicity of the solution.

"Squad," he said, "go into the barn." He realized he'd said it on the private channel and switched back so Tenn could hear them, and then repeated the order.

They took up positions; Scorch and Fixer flanking the door and Tenn in the rafters, sniper rifle directed at the entrance. The animal stalls were empty; obviously the eopies were out with Lawquane. Good. There would be no noisy animals to give them away. It was dark before Lawquane returned; he put his eopie in its stall and moved for the door. Boss dropped from his hiding spot, putting his rifle at the back of Lawquane's head.

"Don't move," Boss said.

Lawquane sighed. "I knew this would happen eventually."

He turned. His hair was grayed, and his skin darker than most clones'. There was a look of sadness and determination in his eyes.

"I don't want to do this, believe it or not," Boss said.

Lawquane nodded. "I believe it."

Boss led him out toward the shuttle. Suu ran out of the house, rage on her face. She began shouting in Twi'leki. Boss turned to her and grabbed her gently but firmly by her shoulders.

"Ma'am," he said. "I'm sorry." He cut his communications off so no one else could hear. "Go back in the house. Pack your things and get offworld. Wait until after we've been gone twelve hours; there is an Imperial garrison a few miles from here. Go there and give them the identi-chips my second will give you. They'll put you on a shuttle. Find a planet where you can live without raising suspicions. Your husband will meet you."

At first, Suu resisted determinedly. But eventually, as she caught on, she stopped. Eventually, she went back into the house, pretending to be sobbing. Boss wouldn't have minded Fixer and Scorch hearing, but he wasn't entirely sure he could trust Tenn yet.

"Load up," he said.

Cut hadn't caught on yet; he still held Boss' gaze with despair and anger. But no hatred. No, he didn't hate his brothers. But there was one thing Boss saw that he didn't like.

Pity.

* * *

Falco Sang nodded, satisfied, as the shuttle took off. They'd handled it well, and passed Vader's test. The Dark Lord would be pleased. Part of Falco wished they had detected him and killed him, because he wanted to die, wanted to leave Vader's service. But he told himself again: I have to survive. It was all that mattered.

He stood and moved for his personal starfighter, hopped in, and hauled jets off Saleucami. He contacted Vader and knelt.

"Report," Vader said.

"The commandos completed their assignment," Sang said. "They did exactly as they were ordered. Lawquane is in their possession."

Vader nodded. "Good. Now, let us see if he makes it to Coruscant."

Falco stood. "Sang out."

"Vader out."

Falco moved into the cockpit, removed his pistol from his holster, and shoved it into the compartment under the copilot's seat. Soon, he told himself. Soon he'd be out of Vader's grasp.

 

I'll admit that I'm not a big fan of clones (I'm fiercely loyal to Timothy Zahn and his books are more canon to me than the prequels) but your story is really interesting and rife with existential questions and angst. I'm excited to see how Cut Lawquane bounces off his less enlightened brothers.

also I can't wait to see Falco shift into play.

Good work!

 

Chapter 4

En route to Coruscant
5 hours later

Boss dropped them out of hyperspace in orbit above Alderaan. He quickly entered the shuttle's comm station and entered "000" as the coordinates. It took a moment, but eventually a comm officer answered.

"Coruscant Communications, how may we direct your call?"

"Put me through to the Imperial 501st barracks. Authorization Senth-Aurek-Oh-Oh-Oh-Niner."

"Please hold. Transferring you..."

Boss fiddled nervously. He'd never done anything like this before; it was a big risk. There was still the possibility of them being watched. However, Fixer had worked up a crude bug jammer which should allow Boss a short window during which he could make his plans without being watched.

"Imperial 501st Legion barracks," said a stiff officer's voice.

"This is Imperial Commando Sergeant IC-138, requesting personal communications with Imperial Commando Sergeant IC-1309."

"Roger that," the officer replied. "Please hold, Sergeant."

Boss sighed. Please hold, please hold. This was taking forever. Every second was critical; he had no idea when Fixer's jammer would go out. Finally, a face appeared–a face identical to Boss' save for subtle nuances such as scars, laugh lines, and the works.

"Boss?" Niner grumbled. "What's up?"

"Niner. Is this a secure channel?"

Niner reached past the viewscreen, probably to fiddle with something, and then settled back into his seat. He nodded.

"Clear," he said.

Boss nodded. "All right. I'm going to ask you point blank, Niner: do you approve of the Empire."

Niner bit his lip, as if debating with himself. Finally, he nodded. "All right, Boss. No, I don't. I want to kriffing get out of here, find my family. So does Darman. Fact, he has Melusar lining us up for a convenient mission to Mandalore."

"How does Rede feel about this?"

Niner sighed. "He doesn't know. Poor kid; don't want to hurt him, but I very much doubt he's the deserting type."

"Well, good luck with that." Boss paused. "Niner, I need a favor."

"Shoot."

"Set up a sniper rifle on the building across the street from the barracks. Wire it so it can be fired via remote. Then transmit the command codes to Fixer."

"What's going on, Boss?"

Boss licked his lips nervously. "It's Lawquane, the clone we were sent to capture. I...I can't bring him in. It isn't right."

"Boss, what're you going to do?"

"I can't tell you anymore. Sorry, Niner. Please, just do what I've asked."

"All right, Boss. I'll get it done."

"Thank you."

Niner nodded. "Good luck, ner vod."

"You too, vod'ika."

Boss disconnected the line and swiftly returned to the cockpit. This was dangerous territory he was entering, he knew. And he couldn't ask Fixer and Scorch to enter it with him. He sent Tenn to check on Lawquane and then sealed the cockpit.

"Want out?" Boss asked. "Tell me now."

Fixer and Scorch exchanged glances.

"What do you mean, Boss?" Scorch asked.

"Make no mistake, boys," Boss said, "this is treason. We won't get a reprieve from command because of our past successes."

"I don't like the way the Empire's going, Boss," Fixer said. "Got to do what we've got to do."

Scorch nodded. "We're with you, sir. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"First thing we do? We go Kashyyyk and don't leave until we find Sev."

Boss nodded. "All right, deal." He hit the hyperspace lever, and they were en route to Coruscant.

And treason.

 

Very nice. I am currently reading the 501st Novel. I am close to the end and already I am getting nervous. I am scared Traviss is going to pull another Etain on me. You know, it looks like everything is going to be fine, but then one of your favorite characters is dead. Traviss likes killing my favorite characters. I am crossing my fingers as I approach the end of the 501st novel.

Anyway, nicely done. I don't dare try to write a clone story because all that Mando is confusing as hell. And if I screw it up I am sure some 14-year-old fanboy will be quick to correct my obvious ignorance of the language.


EDIT: Okay, I am pissed. I thought the 501st was a stand alone book. I want to see some closure! And not everybody dies closure!

 

501st was a great book, but Traviss quit before she could write its sequel. It's too bad. I really wanted closure too.

 

You gotta be kriff'n kidding me. She quit! Please tell me somebody else is going to finish the series?! I think it could all be tied together in one book. Get all the clones back home, fix the genetic problem and all is good. Maybe they can get a plastic surgeon so these guys can take their bucket off without revealing their identity. Dar should be with his son!

Now I want to write a fanfic ending the series.

 

Chapter 5

Coruscant
The Next Day

Boss stepped out of the shuttle, trying his best to look at ease and, he thought, probably failing. Fixer and Scorch came after him, and Tenn came last, hauling Lawquane. Boss traded glances with Fixer and nodded curtly. Fixer sealed his helmet, and Boss waited.

A pair of troopers–Boss recognized one as Coric–approached, rifles trained cautiously on Lawquane. Boss tensed as he counted down the seconds.

Should be just about...now.

He threw himself to the ground as the sniper bolt shot overhead. Fixer, who had fired, and Scorch, who knew to expect it, dodged aside. Tenn, surprised, rolled aside and yanked his blaster rifle to guard. But the sniper bolt had already pierced Lawquane's chest.

"Blast!" Boss growled. "Troopers, find that sniper!"

Scorch and Tenn moved off, followed by Coric and the other stormtrooper. Boss knelt by Lawquane...and pulled off the hidden body armor under his tunic. He threw it aside and quickly ushered Lawquane into the shuttle.

"Good luck," Boss said. "Go!"

Then he led Fixer off to the building where the sniper rifle was. He got to the top first. Coric and the stormtrooper hadn't seen where the shot had come from, and Scorch was intentionally leading Tenn in the wrong direction. Boss knelt by the sniper, pretending to examine it.

"Scorch, Tenn, Coric," he said, "I found it."

"Roger," Coric replied. "Anyone around?"

"Negative," Boss replied, "it was automated. Our killer got away, and–blast!"

Lawquane launched ship and flew off Coruscant, using Boss' command codes. Boss pretended to be angry, hurling the sniper rifle aside and storming down the stairs.

"What happened?" Coric asked.

"It was faked," Boss said. "Lawquane escaped."

* * *

Falco Sang marched into Vader's sanctum. His legs took him forward, even though his mind wanted to haul jets far away from Coruscant. But Vader would only find him. Sang knew that he would never be allowed to survive. It was why he'd left his weapon on the ship; he wasn't sure he could resist the temptation to shoot Vader anymore.

"Report," Vader said.

"The commandos finished their mission perfectly," Sang said. "Lawquane was captured and brought back here. They should've arrived by now, in fact."

"They have," Vader said darkly. "And shortly after, Lawquane escaped."

Sang's gut went cold. "What?"

"The deserter had an accomplice on a building across the street," Vader said. "The commandos believed him to be dead and searched for the sniper. While they were in the building, Lawquane revived and escaped."

Sang snarled. "Any evidence of who the accomplice was?"

"No," Vader replied. "But I want you to investigate. Find out if Delta Squad had anything to do with it."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

"Dismissed."

Sang turned and walked out of Vader's sanctum. Delta Squad had to have been involved...they must've. But how? He'd go watch the recordings of the incident and settle this once and for all. He would not be humiliated.

 

I would think it was obvious that they were involved. They are way too smart to be outfoxed like that. No wonder why Vader is suspicious. But are they smart enough to not get caught? That's the question. Nice update.

 

Chapter 6

"What the kriff was that, Boss?" Tenn demanded.

Boss turned on his heel, glaring at Tenn. He kept his gaze firmly meeting Tenn's until the other commando winced and saluted. Boss waited another moment, saluted back, and then nodded.

"What do you mean?"

"That thing with the sniper," Tenn said. "You wanted me out of your hair on the shuttle and you told Scorch to take me on a roundabout search pattern. You were involved. Weren't you?" He didn't let Boss respond. "Not only that, but I went over the holo-records. There aren't any. You let Fixer erase the data. Didn't you?"

Boss glared at Tenn. "Interesting theory, trooper. Now forget it."

Tenn's eyes bugged out of his head. "Kark it, sir, you're committing treason."

"Good luck proving it, Tenn."

Boss turned and walked away. He had an escape to plan.

* * *

Niner and Darman were gone, and so was their partner, Rede. They really had gone on their mission to Mandalore, then. Boss was glad for them, because they'd get away with it–probably. Their chances were looking worse with every passing moment.

But they were Delta Squad. They'd get through it.

"Fixer, is the shuttle prepped?" Boss asked.

Fixer nodded. "Yes, sir. Can't find Melusar anywhere."

"Aww, so we don't get to tender our resignation in person," Scorch muttered sarcastically. "Let's go." He paused. "Still. I'll miss Holy Roly. He was a good guy."

Boss grabbed Scorch by the shoulder and pushed him down the hall. "Go. Tenn's going to rat us out, and we have to be out of here before he does."

"Too bad we can't tell Niner and Dar bye," Scorch continued.

"They're gone," Boss said. "I wasn't going to tell you until we were gone so you couldn't rat them out if we got caught...but I guess you deserve to know. Don't tell anyone. Move!"

Scorch nodded and moved quickly out of the barracks and into the shuttle. Fixer followed. Boss was almost there when he heard a sound behind him.

"Hey!" a voice called.

Boss whirled. It was the black-clad man who'd warned them that they were being watched. He held a DL-18 blaster pistol, which was trained on Boss. They'd left their helmets in the barracks so they couldn't be traced via the comlinks, so Boss was a headshot waiting to happen. If he thought he could've, he would've snapped up his DC-15 sidearm–the Empire hadn't replaced those yet–and blown the guy's head off. But he couldn't.

"What do you want?" Boss asked.

"To kill you."

The man squeezed the trigger. Boss threw himself aside, and now he did go for his sidearm. He snapped it up and fired off a single shot. It blew away the black-clad man's right shoulder pad and knocked the man on his back. Boss ran for the shuttle, which Fixer had already started up. He heard the clatter of plastoid boots behind him and turned. Stormtroopers ran from the barracks–one Boss recognized as Coric. They opened fire.

Boss didn't fire back. They were still brothers.

He leapt aboard the ship and yelled at Fixer to raise the ramp. It started to pull up behind him and he winced as flak bounced around the inside of the ship. He threw himself to the floor. The ship was already heading for the sky.

"Keep us going, Fixer," Boss said. "We're wanted men, now."

"Where to, sir?" Fixer asked. "Mandalore?"

"No," Boss replied. "Niner and Dar planned their escape perfectly, so they won't be suspected for some time. If the Imps follow us there their cover will be blown too. For now, we keep running. Head for Nar Shaddaa. It's a good place to get lost in a crowd."

"And ditch the armor?" Scorch asked.

Boss, now in the cockpit, nodded. "Yeah. We'll have to find something new to wear, preferably something with a helmet so no one realizes we're clones."

"All right," Fixer said stiffly. Clearly, he didn't like any of this. "Nar Shaddaa it is."

 

Oh this keeps getting better and better. Can't wait to see what unfolds on Nar Shaddaa.

 

Chapter 7

Nar Shaddaa
2 weeks later

Boss hated being in civvies. He felt naked. He never thought he'd feel nostalgic for the days when he'd been knee deep in mud and other unmentionable materials, but he was. He had decided that it was official.

Not being a soldier was the worst time of his life.

It was all he could do not to go back to Coruscant, beg forgiveness, and return to life as normal. But that wasn't possible and he knew it, especially as long as Darth Vader was running things. Any deserters who so much as came near Coruscant would be executed, quickly and brutally.

"I still think we should go to Mandalore," Scorch said. "It's been a few weeks. We haven't been followed as of yet, and I'm almost positive that Niner and Darman have probably met up with Clan Skirata by now. That's the safest place for them, so if we go there now we won't be putting them in danger. Plus we can find Vau, go to Kashyyyk, and start looking for Sev."

Boss bit his lip. Scorch was right. Niner and Darman were as safe as they'd ever be now, and they were getting nowhere on Nar Shaddaa. Plus if they went to Mandalore they could get their hands on a few nice sets of Mandalorian armor–much better than the greasy, disgusting armor they'd been forced to wear now.

"All right," Boss said. "We'll catch the next flight to Mandalore."

Scorch nodded. "Great."

They walked into a seedy cantina, Boss watching his back carefully. Two Rodians planted themselves firmly in front of the commandos, but made no mention of the similarity of their appearances. Scorch was wearing a sun visor and had cut his hair close to his head, while Boss had grown a beard and wore a skullcap. Only Fixer kept his original appearance This made them look at least slightly different from one another, different enough to be brothers instead of clones.

"Check your weapons at the door," one Rodian said.

Boss pulled out his DC-15 sidearm and put it on the table. And then did the same with his hidden vibroblade. And his holdout blaster. And his shiv. And his grenade belt. He entered the cantina and moved up to the bar. Scorch and Fixer followed.

"I'll have an Andoan ale," Boss said.

The bartender took Scorch and Fixer's orders and then moved off to get the drinks. Boss looked around the cantina casually. Everyone in the place screamed "armed and dangerous." Some of them wore their weapons openly, and that made Boss instantly suspicious. Why had the bouncers made them surrender their blasters unless...

"Ambush," he said.

He threw himself behind the bar, grabbed the tender by the collar, and yanked him down, snapping his neck before he could reach for the riot gun hidden under the counter. Boss grabbed the weapon and fired. Unfortunately the riot gun was non-lethal, and had an awful fire and accuracy rate besides, so he had to aim carefully and fire sparingly. He dropped a Weequay with a crossbow and a Duros with a vibroblade.

"Fixer, weapons retrieval!" Boss said. "Scorch, find us a way out!"

Scorch picked up the fallen Weequay's crossbow and opened fire, cutting down one of the Rodian bouncers, as well as a Gran with a light blaster carbine. Boss threw down the riot gun and scooped up the carbine.

"Boss!" Fixer called. "The other Rodian bouncer took our weapons out of the room."

"Forget 'em, then," Boss said. "We just need to get out of here, now, before–"

A sniper rifle cracked, and the bolt slammed into the table beside Boss. He threw himself down and fired up at the balcony, unable to see the shooter.

"This wasn't random," Boss said. "These guys were alerted to our presence before we got here."

The sniper fired again, and the shot passed a centimeter from Scorch's location. Scorch leapt to his feet, fired his crossbow a few times, and then ducked down again. Boss frowned. Where was Fixer?

"Boss, I see the sniper!" Fixer said, as if on cue. "It's the black-haired guy from the barracks."

"Where is he?"

"Right above you, second floor."

Boss leapt out from his cover and raised the carbine, firing. He caught sight of the black-haired assassin and fired directly at him. One of the bolts caught him in the chest, but his body armor absorbed it. The man ran out the second-floor exit.

"He's away," Boss said. "Fixer, get down here and let's finish off these stragglers. Then we need to leave Nar Shaddaa. Now."

 

Awesome action moment in the cantina. You just can't mess with these guys. Excited to see how they get out of this one.

 

Chapter 8

Boss moved to the second floor, training his captured carbine carefully ahead of him. The three of them had quickly and efficiently eliminated the last of their enemies; now, they had only to find their black-clad instigator. Boss only hoped Tenn wasn't here as well–he wasn't sure he could kill a brother clone.

He walked outside onto a balcony, and felt instantly dizzy as he looked down hundreds of kilometers into blackness below. He might've fainted and fallen had not years of training and months of time on Coruscant, with similar city-scape, trained him to hone that fear.

"Whoa," Scorch observed. "Scary."

"Shut up," Fixer muttered.

Boss spotted the attacker running across a catwalk above the skylanes about a hundred meters away. Boss turned and followed the balcony toward the catwalk. The attacker caught sight of them and brought up his rifle, sniping at them. Boss threw himself forward and started crawling, arm-over-arm, across the balcony. Sniper fire hit the railing and shot over Boss' head.

"Kark!" Boss snarled.

Scorch and Fixer ducked down and fired at the black-clad man. Boss slowly stumbled to his feet and took a running charge at the man. The man fired, but it was made unsteady by having to avoid fire from Boss' squad mates. Boss tackled the assassin and punched him squarely in the face, three times. The man groaned and collapsed. Fixer and Scorch ran up.

"Should we take him?" Scorch asked.

Boss shook his head. "Nowhere to hold him for a significant length of time. Leave him here, but put him over there where he won't roll of the edge. I'm not murderous."

Fixer nodded. "Right."

They pulled the man away and quickly caught a taxi speeder back toward the spaceport.

 

Chapter 9

Deucalon Spaceport
Corellian Sector, Nar Shaddaa

Boss had his hand white-knuckled around the grip on his carbine, hidden under his trenchcoat, as he walked into the spaceport. Security–a squad of Hutt enforcers, all Gamorreans–was speaking with a squad of stormtroopers. Boss noticed that many of the stormies were of different heights, and none of them matched his.

"Good," he said into his lapel comlink, "no clones. If we have to shoot-and-run we won't be killing our brothers, at least."

"Right," Fixer responded.

Two enforcers, a Zabrak and a Weequay, stepped up. The Zabrak held an old-fashioned DH-17, its long, silver barrel dulled from lack of proper maintenance. Boss estimated it had five shots or less before it malfunctioned–catastrophically.

"State your destination," the Zabrak said.

"We have a shuttle in a private pad," Boss said. A half-truth; it wasn't their shuttle. "Docking bay Sixty-five."

The Zabrak nodded at the Weequay, who moved off to consult a terminal. Boss threw a glance at Fixer. The other commando reached under his jacket and flipped a switch on his slicing kit. The Weequay skimmed the terminal, complete with Fixer's falsified information, and nodded.

"Checks out," he said.

"All right," the Zabrak said. "Go."

Boss nodded to him and walked by. They were almost out of there when–

"Hey!" a stormtrooper called. "You, stop!"

Boss whirled, whipped out the carbine, and fired. The stormtrooper grunted as the bolt pierced his plastoid armor just below his chest. He dropped, his E-11 rifle firing randomly into the ground. Someone screamed, and then chaos broke loose.

The Zabrak snapped up his DH-17 and fired twice. The weapon exploded. Less time than I thought, Boss mused. He hurled himself to the ground and fired, catching the Zabrak full in the face. Fixer and Scorch whipped out their own acquired weapons and opened fire. The Weequay, in the process of hitting an alarm, dropped, one of Fixer's bolts searing a black hole in his throat.

"Get out, now!" Boss snapped.

He moved down the corridor, taking point. Their shuttle wasn't far; maybe two hallways down. It would be all right, if–

Two squads of stormtroopers charged around the corner, rifles firing. Boss rolled aside, landing in one of the spaceport's vendors, a store that sold the lates HoloNews tabloids. Picking up a holozine with female Twi'leks in "extracurricular" clothing, Boss hurled it into the air and blasted it with his carbine. The explosion resulting sent out a sonic burst that fried every holozine within three meters, which in turn fried the others. Soon the shop was a riot of blue, zig-zag bolts of energy. The stormtroopers ducked back in a panic, the bursts frying their helmets' sensors.

"Move!" Boss shouted.

He grabbed Fixer by the collar and pulled him out through the shop's side entrance. Scorch followed, laying down cover fire. Two stormtroopers and a couple of Gamorreans fell. Boss ran around the corner, groaning inwardly when he saw four stormtroopers blocking the way ahead. Raising his carbine, he depressed the firing stud–and the karking weapon clicked empty.

"Blast!" Boss roared.

He kneeled and picked up the closest weapon–a dead Nikto's DL-44 heavy pistol–and fired from his knee. One of the troopers went down. Belatedly, Boss realized he wasn't even keeping track of whether or not they were clones, and he almost threw himself on their mercy right then. But as he looked around, he was fairly certain none of these stormtroopers were clones–in fact, they all looked like fresh "recruits" from the cloning centers, courtesy of Arkanian Micro.

As Boss had suspected, they were cloning non-Fetts now.

"One more corridor to go!" Boss said. "Keep moving."

He picked up another weapon, a KYD-21 pistol, and checked its charge and the DL-44's. Both of them were about half-empty. He glanced at Fixer, who held up two fingers, signaling that he had two clips left in his captured rifle. Scorch grunted and tossed his weapon to the ground. He searched the floor before settling on a grenade launcher dropped by one of the Huttese enforcers.

They moved around the corridor together. When they reached their hangar, they found it barricaded by four full squads of stormtroopers and–to Boss' distress–five heavily-armed riot troopers. Scorch fired the grenade launcher, taking out one of the riot troopers. Boss whipped around the corner, firing both pistols at once, conserving ammo. Two stormtroopers dropped, and then a third, killed by Fixer.

"Too many!" Boss said as a blaster bolt hit the wall next to him. "Back–ugh!"

He rolled back, doubling over in agony as a blaster bolt took him full in the gut. He dropped his left-hand blaster–the KYD–and crawled back behind cover.

"No way we'll get to the shuttle," Boss said. He thought for a moment. "Fixer...ugh...blast the viewport!"

Fixer, unquestioningly, turned and fired his rifle into the windows behind them. Boss crawled over to the window and looked down. It'd be a risky jump–three stories–but they'd done worse.

"Scorch...go first," Boss said. "Fixer'll have to help me down."

Scorch hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. Firing two more grenades–taking down another riot trooper and three stormies–he moved back toward the window. Holding his nose as if he were going to jump into a swimming pool, he leapt. Boss heard a crunch and looked down. Scorch had landed on a speeder, and its roof had caved in. Scorch was laughing.

"Ready, Fixer?" Boss muttered. "Go. Now!"

Fixer hoisted Boss up by the waist–

And jumped.

 

Chapter 10

Boss groaned as he landed on his side. He rolled over and reached for the blasters he'd dropped in the fall. He checked their charges and snarled. Both were empty. Fixer was up, pulling Boss to his feet, and blaster shots were peppering the ground around them.

"You have to move, sir!" Fixer said. "Now!"

Boss nodded, rubbed his head, and stumbled forward. He wished desperately for a weapon, any weapon. Fixer pulled him into a cluttered hangar. Scorch stumbled in behind them and slammed the door. Fixer rolled Boss onto the floor and pulled open his coat.

"Looks bad, sir. But you'll live."

Boss groaned. "That's...something...I guess."

Fixer looked around. Boss knew that it wouldn't be long before the Imperials and Hutt enforcers got through the door. Then they were all dead.

"Back door," Fixer says. "Looks like we'll have to stay on Nar Shaddaa a little bit longer."

"No..." Boss said. "We'll...make it. Find a ship going off-planet...now. Worry about...me...later."

"Sir, that won't do–"

"Yes it will, blast you. I'm still in charge. Find us a ship. Now."

Fixer nodded. "All right."

"And hurry!" Scorch added. "They're already shooting through."

Fixer walked over to a nearby computer terminal and powered it up. He scanned the departures and nodded.

"Only one ship leaving Nar Shaddaa out-system, and in the direction of Mandalore, right now. It's going to Taris."

"Taris?" Scorch asked. "I thought that planet was a–ah!–dead world."

"It was," Fixer corrected. "They've been rebuilding it for centuries."

"Then get us...there," Boss said.

"Right. Scorch, come on!"

Scorch ran away from the door as blaster bolts pierced the thin metal. They gathered by the back door and prepared to go through. Fixer raised his blaster and trained it on the door.

"Ready...go."