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star-wars-scribbles-ff · 4 years

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Where I Belong | Chapter 1 | Prologue

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she'll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, angst, fluff, [more]

Words: 13,623

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header made by me :)

CHAPTER NOTE: Haha I know you’re having a hard time getting past that terrifying word count above if you haven’t already said ‘to hell with this’ and kept scrolling, but I like writing long chapters because I don’t update as frequently as other writers so I wanna provide some good stuff to keep readers busy while they wait... Hope that’s alright? (All chapters aren’t that long; usually around 5k. Don’t worry there’s just a lot to unpack in this first chapter) If you’re still here I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Chapter Art & Map | Echo & Trauma Squad

“We’ve entered the atmosphere, Sergeant. You boys are clear to get ready.”

Pressing the button connected to the cockpit via a control panel on the wall, CC-4811, Sergeant Mash, went to respond.

“Roger that. Drop us 3 klicks south of RV point Axe.”

“Will do, sir.”

Lowering his hand, Mash turned, gaze finding his team doing a last minute equipment check before their coming drop into hostile territory. It was helmets on at 100 klicks, they still had another minute or so.

“Alright, listen up.” Mash held up a datapad, tapping briskly on the screen, a holo of the location of interest shown up into the semi-lit shuttle bay. “Intelligence spotted a Separatist fleet five rotations ago within the Duluur sector. They lingered for one standard Coruscant rotation above Devaron before departing from this sector. It is unknown whether hostiles have taken RV point Bullseye.”

“Why couldn’t we get the debrief on Kamino?” CC-4999, or as they called him, Nines muttered. The squad member was finishing the assemblement of his Deece with a sniper attachment.

“This is a priority mission,” Mash continued. “Retaking Bullseye needs to be done quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Minimal destruction which means no rockets, detonators, or explosives of any kind, hence our silent entry - sorry Hawk.” The smidgen of sympathy in Mash’s voice for their demolition man causes CC-4998, Hawk, to give a small jut of his chin and a twitch of a smile. “The Republic seeks to turn this Temple into a staging ground for Surveillance Operations. Keeping Bullseye standing is top priority; sweep the grounds and wipe out any Separatist forces that may have taken it; preferably all in under a 12 hour window.”

“100 klicks out,” The pilot’s voice came over the shuttle’s com systems.

Shutting off the datapad, Mash tossed it to one of the shuttle seats lining the bay wall before grabbing his helmet. The rest of his squad did the same as they all put their helmets on.

“Didn’t really answer the question, Sarg.” Nines uttered while rolling his shoulders, the action causing the armored plates to clunk against one another.

“Skipper said the Jedi were touchy about it, Nines.”

The kid was a bit of a hot shot but his skill with a rifle more than made up for the snarky attitude.

“They give us confidential assignments for a reason. They want this done quickly and quietly without word getting out.”

The sniper tipped his trigger and middle finger around in a salute that would have most likely made their training sergeant fume at the lack of maturity before turning towards Hawk.

“Bit strange they revived us so quickly.” CC-4803, Corporal Razor stepped up next to Mash. “From what Skipper told me- most get a couple months before they’re pulled for assignment again.”

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war.

“Personally I don’t mind - I guess it’s gotta mean we’re doing something right if they keep pulling us for jobs,” Razor added.

Their advisor on Kamino, Skipper, acted as their go-to man during missions. He’d feed them intel on the ground and organize quick and dirty drops and extractions if the need arose.

“Trying not to think about it, ner vod (my brother/comprade).” Mash said, the mando’a slipping through his mouth with ease. It wasn’t something other clones knew… More of a perk from their branch of the GAR. If you were lucky, your training sergeant may have taught you the Mandalorian language. The clone flash training made it stick too, so they were fairly fluent.

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war.

Not long after the Battle of Geonosis, their squad, Echo squad, was formed. It was created in the wake of each of their losses. Mash had lost all his men, his brothers, and so had Razor who had been Sergeant of his own men. Nines and Hawk together lost their Corporal and Sergeant. Higher ups had pushed them all together for a follow up assignment shortly after Geonosis and they had to get to know each other on the ground the hard way.

Since then they’d done a few jobs here and there. They all had the same training sergeant so while there was a small grimmer of familiarity, they were still strangers to each other. It took some getting used to, but things had since smoothed out.

“Sounds like this assignment really is priority. For the Jedi at least. Whatever Jedi was occupying the Temple previously was recalled to Coruscant. It didn’t take long for the Separatists to get word of the outpost’s vacancy it seems.”

“I’ll say,” Razor chuckled beneath his helmet before finishing the tie on his rappelling gear. They’d be dropping into the dense jungle soon. “From what I hear, intelligence still has holes in it. Intel is leaked more often than it isn’t, gotta wonder you know?”

Checking the knot of his rappelling gear a final time, Mash hesitated to respond to Razor’s comment. Razor had always been one for the gossip regarding the Republic’s works. Sometimes that curiosity was useful, but more often than not Mash wished his brother were more discreet.

Word had gotten around, but since the Republic were officially handed control of the army, they’d begun making changes. Their branch of the GAR was getting quite the makeover, however whether the changes were doing more harm than good was still up for debate. Clone Advisors was just one change that had been temporary, but had since stuck around. Certain Clone Officers without fieldwork would act as advisors or middlemen to non-Clone Republic Officers, like the Jedi, still getting a handle on how to efficiently induct the different clones into the conflicts.

It was a surprise to the Clones when the Jedi, the legendary warriors they’d been told of all their lives, didn’t exactly meet textbook expectations.

It wasn’t their place to ponder the Jedi abilities as Military Leaders, but their corner of the GAR was quickly developing opinions, a ship Mash was hesitant to board.

“You implying its a higher ups problem?” Mash asked.

“Not necessarily,” Razor responded. “Just something to think about is all. Although, I know you prefer not to.”

He’d known Razor long before they’d been thrown together in a squad. He’d met him several times on the simulation battlefields during training, and he knew him well enough to detect the humor laced through his voice to understand when he was pulling his leg.

“Stay focused, vod.” Mash muttered, thankful he could hide his own grin as a chuckle from Razor radiated through helmet comms.

“Coming in, we’ll be over the drop zone in 30 seconds.”

The turbulence picked up in the shuttle as they approached their destination and all members of the squad made their way towards the back of the shuttle bay.

Hawk hit the button for the shuttle’s ramp on the wall control panel and soon enough the roar of the ship's engines took over, causing the sound dampeners in their helmets to kick in.

The shuttle trembled as the pilots pulled up on the controls and the ship stalled above an area of jungle which was where their assignment was to begin.

“Go go go,” Mash ushered each of his men out before going himself. One hand on the rappelling line and the other holding his Deece at the ready, Mash kept his eyes on his comrades heading down the 60 or so meter distance passed a layer of fog into the darkness of the Devaronian jungle.

Large vines as thick as the bay of the shuttle covered the planet as far as Mash could see, even through his helmet display. Data on the planet mentioned the unique flora which they would encounter; the vines breached the landscape like borrowing Rishi eels, knotted and intertwined together creating a blanket covering the terrain.

Watching as each of his squad hit the ground, Mash followed as they did in stripping themselves of their rappelling gear as it zipped back up into the shuttle.

Switching comm frequencies, Mash looked up to the hovering shuttle around 100 meters about them.

“We’re clear, pilot.”

“Roger that sir, have fun down there,” The ramp of the shuttle began to close before it headed off.

The jungle had fallen quiet once the ship was out of range, and soon enough, the chirping and rustling of native fauna began to grow in the shuttle’s absence. Looking around the terrain, Mash was quick to notice how the ground under the vine canopy was rather barren aside from sparse foliage in the form of smaller vine systems and shrub-like plants. They were going in under the impression that there would be greater amounts of foliage; it would complicate matters for reconnaissance and stealth-based action going forward.

It was the first bump in the road, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Improvisation; its what they trained for in situations like this.

In a series of blinks, Mash pulled up specs on the surrounding landscape, including humidity levels. They were high enough. Readings indicated it had rained recently.

“Start dirtying up the armor. Foliage won’t provide enough cover so we’ll need to-”

An aggravated grunt caused Mash to turn, finding Nines with his hands braced on his lower back as he craned into a stretch, his Deece in the hands of Hawk.

“They changed this di'kutla (useless/stupid) armor again, didn’t they.” He grunted.

“The Manual outlined the upgrades,” Hawk reminded his brother with a slight tilt of his helmet, only to receive a mild clock on the shoulder plate from Nines as he got his footing back.

“Who the hell has time for that, do I look like I got time for that?”

“Cut the chatter,” The statement came out firm, although the mild distraction of the hostile territory around them softened his words. “This is hostile territory, so let’s shift it,” Mash gestured forward with his Deece.

“Dirty up.” Razor shrugged, emphasizing on the Sergeant’s first order before popping off in one direction to start camouflaging his armor.

Mash watched as Nines lingered on their Corporal walking away before he audibly grumbled, going off in a somewhat similar direction with Hawk.

“I long for the day when I can put this armor to actual use.”

“And how would you go about doing that, Nines?” Hawk asked.

“By using it how it was meant to be used- urban warfare, close quarters… actual fire fights. Not writhing around on a dust ball like Geonosis or making mud angels on this heap.”

The comment caused Hawk to openly laugh, something that if Mash was being honest, wasn’t customary of his younger comprade; however he had to admit it pleased him. He’d always been less of a talker than Nines; more hesitant to accept the new squad; whether it was because of the fate of their old one, or maybe who he had ended up with, Mash wasn’t certain.

“Keep your trash talk on internal comms, Nines.” Razor reiterated the words as if he had done so multiple times already, which he most likely had.

“Trash talk… Kebbur haar haat (try the truth).” Nines grumbled, before throwing a glob of mud onto his thigh plating, coating one leg in the darkly colored mud.

The kid was all talk. As soon as a superior was around he would 180 and they’d be none the wiser.

Another minute passed before the squad’s signature white armor with red and orange accents were covered helmet to boots in Devaronian mud. The humidity would prove troublesome as they’d need to reapply the camouflage again within the hour.

Exchanging a couple of nods with the men, Mash made a final glance exchange with Razor.

“We’re ready,” The Corporal gave him a nod.

“Then let’s move out.”

A couple hours had passed, and the position of Devaron’s two moons had since shifted across the night sky; they could be seen in the distance adjacent to RV point Bullseye’s structure. The thick layer of fog had been ever present since their arrival, and while it didn’t completely inhibit their line of sight, it was keeping them on their toes.

Spotting subtle obstruction on the ground ahead, Mash held up a fist before gesturing for the men to move forward to a position of cover cautiously.

The Sergeant came to a stop at a large vine almost a meter thick. He kept his back to it as Hawk stopped behind him.

“I’ve got eyes on the South road.” Nines came to a stop a few meters to their 3 o’clock, kneeling down on one leg before resting his rifle over a low vine breaching the ground, leaning in to look through the scope.

The Temple had four roads that branched out in each direction, the primary Northern and Southern Roads drew an imaginary line through RV point Bullseye while the secondary Western and Eastern roads connected the courtyards and other smaller facilities to the overall structure.

“It’s called a promenade, not a road.” Razor muttered as he came to a stop beside the sniper, blaster raised and alert as he observed the surrounding area.

“Yeah I know, the HUD said that, but what the hell is the difference- its a road.” Nines grunted. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to hear they’ve updated the HUD’s terminology index on architecture. I can’t think of more vital information to the mission.” The cock of Nines’ helmet only enhanced the sarcasm leaking from his filtered voice as he glanced up at their Corporal. “Looks clear up ahead.”

“No droids?” Mash questioned.

“Doesn’t look like it, Sarg. Zero movement.” Nines responded, gaze back through the scope.

From his crouched position on the ground, Hawk looked up at the Sergeant for a brief moment before glancing towards Razor.

Going in they’d be simultaneously at an advantage and disadvantage. The enemy had the high ground and not to mention the location in question that needed to be retaken, but the squad had the element of surprise.

“Alright. Let’s start moving in. Stay sharp and switch to internal comms,” Mash instructed and with a couple of hand gestures, fleshed out their movements going forward.

Like the vigorously tested training exercises on Kamino, the squad began to move in on the target location quickly and quietly. Using the native flora to their cover advantage, the small group made their way up to the Temple road before branching off to the structure’s right side. They’d stay between the Eastern and Southern roads in order to get as close to RV point Bullseye as possible without leaving the cover that the Devaronian vines provided. Once close enough, they could make their way across the courtyard and to the Temple. From there execution of the mission would change. How, was something Mash didn’t know yet.

Loosely following the road’s edge closer and closer to the Temple which was growing up into the sky the further they traveled, Echo Squad finally came to the wall of the courtyard, an area that surrounded the Temple. The wall was just under two meters; a quick scale.

Stepping up to the wall, Nines lowered his rifle, resting its barrel on the wall before perusing the open and exposed ground ahead.

“No visuals. All quiet.”

“I’m not liking this,” Razor muttered, tilting his body only slightly towards the Sergeant. “Its sloppy. Even for the droids.”

“Maybe we just came at a bad time,” Nines offered, continuing to scope out the area. “Caf break or… battery recharge- quiet time. What’d droids have these days?”

“Let’s give it another minute.” Mash decided, craning to look up towards the main Temple structure which was significantly larger than its sibling tower. “We’ll move in if we don’t get-”

“Wait, I’ve got a visual.”

Mash jerked his head to the right to see where Nines’ scope was aligned, towards the smaller of the two towers. The shutter and chung of metal clanking together in a uniform manner was a sound that had since become familiar to them.

On Kamino they trained against other clone squads, training staff, and simulation targets. The droids which were now being used by the Separatists weren’t entirely unfamiliar, but it was a somewhat impersonal enemy nonetheless. The droids were designed to overwhelm, something that proved effective against the Republic at Geonosis, especially their branch of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Part of the reason missions concerning their branch of the GAR were no longer to overlap with Infantry (unless under special circumstances) was because the Jedi thankfully came to their senses on that account. Their branch lost half of their entire force at Geonosis. Their first battle and their kind were cut in half… It unsettled Mash to the point where he preferred to not think about it, but his head constantly reminded him that those nerves wouldn’t help whether he ignored them or not. The Jedi, while they may not have been what they’d expected, were warriors and leaders nonetheless and they’d been taught all their lives that they’d been created to help the Jedi. Things were seemingly off to a rocky start but they’d level out. It seemed they already were, which Mash was thankfully for. He hadn’t worked directly with a Jedi yet, but when the day came he hoped they’d be up to the task of using him and his men to the best of their ability.

The enemy force finally emerged from around the farthest tower, revealing a squad of eight B1 battle droids. The standard, not a problem. However whatever forces may wait within the Temple or around the perimeter was the standing issue. If they had more time, Mash would have ordered a sweep of the perimeter to be safe. But they didn’t have that luxury. Looks like they’d be doing a hard contact entry, sweeping room to room and floor to floor until the entire structure was clear.

“Well you wanted close quarter combat, ner vod.” Mash finally stated, watching alongside his squad as the droid squad went about their patrol of the Temple grounds. “We’ll eliminate this squad first.”

“Soft entry?” Hawk questioned.

“We’ll have to improvise on that front. Debrief mentioned a security system in the Temple. Nothing the droids can figure out, apparently its more of a force user problem, but with the cams they’ll most likely see us coming. We’ll have to hit quick enough to have the advantage inside.”

“What’d you call that, a medium entry, sir?” Nines chuckled, still zoning in on the droids.

“Call it what you want, Nines.” Mash nodded with minor amusement before giving his rifle one last check just to be safe.

“I’ve got a second droid squad coming in, 2 o’clock off the Eastern road… Looks like it might be a rotation change.”

“Watch em, Nines.”

“Roger that Sarg,”

“Razor?” Mash turned his attention to the Corporal.

They always threw ideas off of each other. While Mash was officially in charge, he preferred to keep the title as loose as possible. Razor used to be Sergeant of his old squad, and was demoted to Corporal when transferred to Echo Squad. While they had differing ways of handling situations, Mash understood the wisdom in getting a second opinion.

An audible sigh came through the Corporal's helmet as Razor looked up at the structure.

“No easy way we’re getting in there without almost immediate detection. Without the use of explosives or detonators-” The nod he gave was decisive, his voice level and collected. “Looks like we gotta do this t-”

The fading of clanking metal from the droids was quickly and suddenly overpowered by the rumble of a familiar sound.

Looking up through the vine canopy, the members of Echo Squad are met with the image of a Republic Nu-class Shuttle swooping in over RV point Bullseye.

“No,” Mash muttered. “No no no- what the hell are they doing!?”

“You get anything over comms? Change of plans?”

“No,” Mash growled through grit teeth before quickly swinging a leg up, getting over the wall before gesturing for the squad to follow.

The uninvited guest had already caught the attention of the two squads of B1s as they all began to open fire on the vessel. The fire would do little against the shuttle’s shields.

As Echo Squad members quickly finish entering the courtyard, the Attack Shuttle’s ramp lowers and four similarly dressed troopers begin rappelling down to the adjacent courtyard.

“I don’t believe this-” Mash snapped before gesturing for the squad to move out and join the fire fight on the other side of the Temple grounds around fifty meters away.

“There go our medium entry plans!” Nines laughed over the growing sound of blaster fire as they ran to join the conflict.

“Not the time, kid!” Mash barked.

As they entered the Eastern courtyard that wrapped around the structure, a couple more droid squads came into view. The other Squad of clones that had arrived were keeping a relatively loose formation as they took out the enemy force, for their kind it looked pretty sloppy; or at least not Echo Squad’s style.

Mash knew his squad was on him, and he didn’t have to remind them to keep it tight. They’d cover the enemy force closer to Bullseye and leave the straggling droids to the newcomers.

B1 Battle Droids had a rather standard targeting system; as they clunked along on a relatively straight path, they’d fire their blasters off in even intervals. They were a fairly easy nuisance to deal with on assignment. When high grades of Separatist droids joined in, and their numbers increased tenfold, that’s when their years of training met their match.

As they made their way across the courtyard and towards danger, Mash got that liquid feeling in his lower body, like his legs would give out and he felt ten times heavier running towards the firefight, he knew that feeling would always disappear as quickly as it appeared. As his training Sergeant would say: It’s your forebrain shutting down; a fear reflex. He wondered if his brothers ever felt the same; that trickle of fear. He didn’t doubt it. You’d have to be a fool not to to some extent.

As soon as their presence was made known, and the droids turned their attention to the second squad of troopers approaching, the weight was lifted from Mash’s body and the noise in his head quieted. Time to get to work.

The sound of blaster bolts firing off rang loudly into the silence of the surrounding jungle. Picking off the droids one by one, Echo Squad drew further out into the courtyard, near where the newly arrived squad was.

The last couple shots came from Hawk as he took down a few straggling droids before the men exchanged a couple of quick glances. The spike of adrenaline that one got during the fight was almost euphoric; relaxing when a brief moment of silence came during the action.

That feeling was cut short when Mash and Razor turned in time to see the Sergeant of the other clone squad about to throw a detonator at another squad of droids approaching from the Eastern road, most likely coming back from another patrol.

“Hey!” Mash barked before running over.

By the time the Echo Squad leader was within fifty yards of the other squad, the small explosive had detonated; dirt, droid parts, and some rubble from the road shot up into the air.

“Haar'chak (Damn it).” Hawk muttered, exchanging a brief look with Nines before going after their Sergeant.

“Are you insane?!”

The shouting caused the members of the other squad to draw their attention back, and eventually the Sergeant turned as well.

“Who the hell are these guys-” The Sergeant muttered, patting the shoulder plate of one of his men before continuing towards Mash. “Can I help point you back in the direction of whatever mud pit you all crawled out of?” The sarcasm was strong in his voice as he looked over Echo Squad. To be fair they were all completely caked in the Devaronian mud.

“Sarg-” Razor tried to subtly stop his brother from getting physical but Mash was already close enough to shove the other Sergeant backwards a couple of steps. “Udesii, vod! (take it easy/calm down, brother!)”

“Under what authority do you think you can just waltz in here an-”

“Authority? Listen here vod,” The armored clone points towards Mash. “I’ve got orders to secure that building back there, so unless you’re here to sit back and run recon while covered in that osik (feces/dung) I suggest you back off and let us take it from here.” The other Sergeant seemed all too eager to start smack talking and it took what was left of Mash’s self control to not get any more physical. Ten years of systematic, precise, orderly training, and as soon as the Republic is given control of the military, everyone seemingly falls off the rails.

“I don’t know what kind of information you’re running on, but our orders came directly from the Jedi Temple that we were to scout this location for enemy activity and retake the building with minimal sustained damage.” Mash made clear. “It is obvious that you did not receive the debrief.”

Taking a step forward, the other Sergeant came within inches of the Echo leader’s helmet with his own.

“What are you implying?”

“Read between the lines.”

“I’m warning you now, vod. Ne shab'rud'niÖ (Don’t mess with me).”

“Bax, come on, vod.”

Razor inched his way between the two Sergeants as the other squad member that had spoken up tried to coax his Sergeant into taking a step backwards.

“Regardless of who should or shouldn't be here- the objective appears to be the same.” Razor made clear, his hand residing on the breastplate of his Sergeant, his other held out towards the other Sergeant who was being held back by who now appeared to be their squad’s Corporal. The tension could've been cut with a vibroblade in that moment.

Razor knew Mash preferred to work alone; at least he preferred their squad working alone. If it was one thing the man hated, it was the liability of variables he couldn’t control - other people potentially ruining his way of doing things. Whether it be Infantry clones, Jedi, or other squads like them, Mash preferred the assignments where it was just their squad, and their squad alone.

“Taking Bullseye is priority.”

“Taking what?” The other Sergeant muttered. His posture had since relaxed but it was clear he was ticked off and eager to get a move on.

“RV point Bullseye.” Mash said. It sounded like he spit the statement out through his teeth.

“...You mean the Tower?” The other Sergeant deadpanned.

Silence followed and Razor exchanged a small glance with the other presumed Corporal.

“I’m Corporal fifty-one-thirty-four… 34.” The Corporal stated, lowering his hand from his Sergeant’s breastplate. It was common to just use the last two numbers. Your name was almost always kept within your squad group, and maybe with your training sergeant unless you were comfortable sharing it. It wasn’t the time to exchange such personal details even if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense. “This is fifty-seven-eighty-seven and five-two-sixty.” The Corporal, 34, pointed to the other two men part of their squad.

The one identified as 87 appeared to be their tech man, while 60 appeared to be carrying the demolitions ordnance.

34 gave his Sergeant the smallest nudge with his shoulder and the man seemed to begrudgingly think over his options before his shoulders lowered a fraction.

“Sergeant five-one-eighteen.” He muttered.

“I’m Corporal four-eight-oh-three,” Razor gestured to himself. “This is forty-nine-ninety-eight and forty-nine-ninety-nine.” Pointing the two out, Razor watched as Nines gave the other squad a jut of his helmet, a sort of nod, and Hawk dipped his helmet down in acknowledgement.

Razor only had to turn a fraction towards Mash for his brother to know he would have to speak up.

“Sergeant four-eight-eleven.” His voice was tight, the remnants of his frustration still hung heavy.

“Now that that’s out of the way, would you all mind moving so we can get to work?” Sergeant 18 gestures somewhat dramatically with his blaster in one hand and a cock of his helmet, swinging the barrel of the blaster with smooth precision to the side.

The silence of the courtyard was growing increasingly harder to ignore, no doubt more droids were on their way from within the Temple walls.

“Sarg-” Corporal 34 started to speak

“We got here first, I suggest you step aside and let us take it from here.”

“I’ve been dragging my men through the mud of that jungle for five hours- We were on the ground working this mission before you dropped in on the front karking door-”

“I don't give a mott's backside if you’ve been stuck here for weeks I-!”

“Sir, I’ve got movement, south entrance,” The statement came from Nines, currently training his rifle on two squads of droids, including some SBDs (super battle droids), exiting the main doors of the Temple.

Both Sergeants having turned to see the incoming hostiles seemed to quickly come to the realization that neither of them were getting what they wanted.

Sergeant 18 shot his Corporal a look before cursing under his breath and 34 nodded before he turned more so to face Echo Squad.

“Your call. You were here first.”

Mash clenched his jaw from under his helmet. He didn’t need this but… He couldn’t have it completely his way.

“Can you manage taking the East Tower without blowing it up?” Mash questioned.

The reluctance was evident in Sergeant 18’s movement as he turned towards Mash and finally nodded.

“...We’ll clear it.”

Exchanging a glance with Razor, Mash returned the nod to the other Sergeant.

“We’ll take the main structure; meet up in the communications center after the Temple has been cleared. If you need to, use comm frequency 0374.”

“Roger that,” Sergeant 18 quickly signals to his men and they take off hastily towards the oncoming droids.

With a shake of his head, Mash turned and watched for a brief moment as the squad of newcomers ran off and began blasting away at the droid force.

Nines watched their Sergeant for a moment before exchanging a glance with Hawk before clearing his throat.

“We uh- clear to move in, sir? I’d rather not let them have all the fun.”

Breathing out through his nose, the Echo Squad Sergeant gave his brother a nod before gesturing for them to get moving.

“Keep it tight.”

“You say that like we’re gonna run off, Sarg.” Hawk chuckled, falling into a loose formation at Nines’ side with Mash and Razor behind them.

“Just don’t follow in that crack squad’s shoes, please.”

“Looks like their Sergeant is just a little…” Razor trails off, swallowing the breathy laugh he almost let loose.

“Dini'la? (insane?)” Nines tried.

He managed to earn a few chuckles with the comment.

“Let’s just focus on the task at hand, vod.” Mash responded, voice a little more at ease. Razor had a tendency to keep the atmosphere as light as he was able, especially in instances like this when tension was high. Nines had his own way of trying to do the same, which usually consisted of poking fun at someone or something. “Same rules apply; no explosives. This building needs to be standing by the time we clear it.”

“Copy that, Sarg.” The humor was laced through Hawk’s voice.

He was the most mellow one of the squad. Mash didn’t really consider himself to have a great sense of humor, but somewhere along the line, Mash subconsciously decided to always play with Hawk and pretend like he was the trigger “explosive” happy one of the bunch. Hawk played along with it.

“I call entry,” Nines called out, causing Razor to chuckle before moving up closer to the younger clone to cover his six.

Despite their mismatched squad, formulated as a result of the losses they’d each received, they were quickly becoming a working unit. If it was one thing Mash knew they all took away from their training, it was the constant snippets of advice and encouragement they’d received from their training sergeant. Traat'aliit gar besbe'trayc (The squad is your weapon). Remember that; you are nothing on your own, and everything together.

“I’ve got movement in the dining hall,” Nines muttered over comms. They were using their internal comm frequency so the droids wouldn’t overhear anything. The other squad hadn’t initiated contact with them on the channel yet, but perhaps that was a blessing in disguise.

“Tion'solet? (how many?)” Hawk spoke up.

“I said I’ve got movement not a five course meal worth of information ready for you,” Nines shot back.

Hawk just shook his head at his brother’s humor.

Leaning around the corner, Nines’ HUD marked the number of droids in the room within a beat and he quickly retreated around the corner where the squad was.

“Twelve including a B1 Sergeant and five SBDs. We can use the EMPs right?” Nines questioned quietly to Mash, despite knowing they were on internal comms.

Electromagnetic Pulse Grenades… Debrief didn’t specifically outline that they couldn’t use them.

Mash audibly sighed before lowering his rifle a fraction.

“This is the dining hall. If we end up stuck here a couple days I’d rather raid the pantry than eat ration bars.”

“That’s your argument for not going in with blasters?” Razor questioned, cocking his helmet to the side.

“.... Yes.”

“Just this one room.” Mash grunted while shaking his head. “We need to hold onto that ordnance.”

Giving a jut of his helmet, Nines lifted a hand towards Hawk who had the EMP grenades on hand.

Tossing one to his brother, Nines made his way around the corner and activated the grenade before rolling it into the large room.

A few beats passed before the shuffling and clunking of the metal droids moving about became prominent.

“What’s that?” The high pitched, animatronic voice was becoming reluctantly familiar before the grenade went off, cutting off any chatter from the hostiles.

Echo Squad swarmed into the space with deadly precision, shooting down the few remaining droids that were outside the EMPs blast radius before covering the bases of the room.

“Clear!”

“Clear,”

The room was relatively small for a dining facility. Then again, the debrief did reveal this Temple was rarely occupied by more than a few Jedi at a time.

“What’s left?” Hawk looked towards the Corporal.

“Just Communications; top floor.” Razor turned towards Mash who nodded in agreement.

“While I’m not complaining, the fact that the crack squad hasn’t made contact is a little unsettling,” Nines spoke up once more, taking a seat on one of the tables, slinging his rifle over his lap.

“Nines-” Mash muttered, waving a hand towards the younger clone. “You're covered in filth, try not to get it all over everything.”

“This building is still under Separatist control last time I checked. I think they’ve got bigger problems then my dirty shebs (backside/rear/“ass”) sitting on their dining tables. Just saying.” Nines shrugged, catching the way Razor quickly looked down and breathed out sharply.

“Don’t encourage him.” Mash didn’t skip a beat in lightly scolding Razor’s reaction to Nines’ humor.

Wearing full armor and helmets did inhibit one’s ability to read some body language, but they all grew up learning how to read it. He wasn’t completely there yet, but Mash was beginning to pick up on the little details that clued him into each new brother of his. He could almost identify each of them by their breathing in combat. Nines was the easiest to pick out because he always breathed in such an even and controlled manner; a sign of a sniper; the slightest inhale or exhale could mean the hit or miss of a shot. Hawk and Razor were a little harder to tell apart but Mash was getting there.

“Let’s head up to the top floor.” Mash gestured out of the room with his Deece. “Keep it tight.”

B1 Battle Droids littered the hallway farther down where they had come from. Every floor and room below them had been cleared. All that remained of the main structure was the top floor, the communications center. Whether the other squad had cleared the East Tower was a question Mash hated leaving up in the air. More droids could pour into the lower levels that they had already cleared if the squad didn’t hold up their end.

Making their way to the end of the hall, they came to an open spiral staircase heading up. Sure there was also a lift, but they didn’t know what they were walking into. The stairs would allow them to survey the situation better.

It didn’t take long for the squad to make their way up to the top level and to a small hall that led to the opening of the communications center. No doors. They’d just have to move in relatively quickly to get the jump.

Mash followed behind Nines on the left side of the hallway as Hawk and Razor did the same on the right side of the hall.

“Tactical Droid 12 o’clock.” Hawk said.

“I got it,” Nines had already raised his Deece.

“Pare (wait),” Mash held a hand out, Deece still trained forward, held by another hand despite the pressure it put on his wrist. “Keep it intact, if we get the jump we might be able to salvage information out of it.”

“...Fine.” Nines uttered but kept his rifle in position.

Evaluating the room for a moment, Mash’s HUD marked the hostiles in a moment. Fourteen, a mix of B1s and SBDs not including the Tactical Droid.

“Razor?” Mash questioned.

“Hawk and I got the right side, you guys take left?”

“Copy.” Gesturing forward with his pointed middle and forefinger Mash quickly grasped his Deece as they moved in.

Nines headed into the room quicker than the others, shooting down several of the droids before making a run for the Tactical droid before it could register the situation playing out.

Mash shot down what droids remained around Nines, dodging a couple of blaster bolts that came close to his body.

Razor and Hawk went about taking down droids on the other side of the room, conscious of the blaster charge they were using as they took the droids down as quickly and efficiently as possible; a head shot or correctly positioned body shot; nothing else would do.

Mash had barely caught Nines finishing off the Tactical droid as he finished ripping the droid’s head from its body before standing up with a laugh, tossing it in his hands twice before looking the intact head over.

“Vod, gaanaylir (brother, catch).” Nines tossed the droid head towards Hawk who fumbled for a moment, only one hand free as the other grasped his Deece. The droid part clattered against his armor before he secured it properly in his grasp. Hawk then handed the droid head to Razor without much thought and Echo Squad’s slicer made his way towards the command console a couple meters away.

“Nines, door.” Mash said.

“Copy that.”

Heading to the front of the room where computer stations lined the walls, Mash lightly ran his fingers over the controls of one of the stations before stepping once to the side to where the security cam screens were. Cycling through them briefly, it took Mash a while to finally find a cam that showed the other squad. By the looks they were making their way towards the communications center and they looked calm enough so they must’ve held up their end.

“Anything, Sarg?” Hawk asked.

“No droid activity. That squad’s on there way it looks like. Hawk-” Mash got the attention of his comrade and gestured to the console in front of him with a nod.

Hawk nodded and approached him.

“Refresh security systems and realign motion sensors in the building.”

“Sir,” Hawk gave a nod before getting to work.

“So what’s the plan now?” Nines looked over his shoulder back into the room towards his brothers.

Mash exchanged a glance with Razor who was standing over the command console; the hub for long range communication.

“I’ll start securing a line to Kamino,” Razor decided. “Enlighten Skipper on our progress.” He turned away and got to work on the console.

Mash’s eyes dotted over the console where Razor began working before his eyeline fell to the floor and followed the path of destruction towards the door where Nines was. From there his eyes found several moving figures coming down the hall, the other squad. Great.

“Well well,” Sergeant 18 began, the eyeline of his helmet shifting around the room for a moment before settling on Mash. “Su cuy’gar (you’re still alive).”

“Don’t act so surprised.” Mash muttered before gesturing them over.

“The East Tower is clear.” The Sergeant continued to look around the room for a brief time before his gaze landed on Mash once more, giving the littlest dip of his head. Mash was quick to reciprocate the gesture in gratitude.

“Looks like the droids were tampering with the transmitter,” Razor called over. “It’s gonna take some time to get to working.”

“Alright.” Mash’s eyes had quickly found the squad of men who had since entered the room once more. They were so familiar to him and his brothers yet so incredibly different it almost made his blood boil with just how different they were - how different they approached the mission. “In the meantime we need to secure the greater perimeter.”

“You know how long that’ll take?” The Sergeant reprimanded.

“It needs to be done,” Mash countered before turning towards Nines. Hesitating in his words for a moment, Mash evaluated the men he had present in the room.

“Let’s send three men, including a Corporal.” Mash wasted little time in subtly waving Nines over.

“If you’ve all got a slicer who can take over this, I’ll take a few men out.” Razor called over, now lying on his back with his head inside a compartment under the command console, helmet on the ground next to his legs. One of the other squad’s men, 87, had since traveled over to where Razor was. After a moment he looked up from where he was knelt down near Razor.

“I can handle this, sir, if you wanna send someone out with them.” His voice was just a hair higher in pitch and the detail, as small as it was, already told Mash that the clone was younger to some degree; maybe closer in age to Hawk and Nines.

Sergeant 18 turned towards Mash for a brief time before turning towards the two of his men still at his side. He nodded to one of them and he stepped forward.

“Alright 11… We’ll play it your way. 60 will go with’em on the scouting,” He nods to the comprade that had since stepped up.

Clenching his jaw for a brief time, Mash reluctantly thought over his next move before carefully removing his helmet. Positioning it under his arm, he relaxed his jaw before holding out a hand to the Sergeant.

The soldier was still but the slight movement of his helmet indicated he saw the outstretched hand.

“Echo Squad. They call me Mash.” It was a longshot. But it might make things easier going forward if they stepped past the formalities of numbers for names.

The Sergeant was unusually still for his seemingly gung ho attitude prior; but the man finally looked down at the hand after an uncomfortable beat of silence before raising his hands to his helmet. Removing the piece of armor, he went to tuck the helmet under his arm before returning the gesture.

Mash met the same set of eyes. “Trauma Squad... Baxter.” His hair was relatively unkempt, but part of that might have been due to helmet hair. It was not the standard military cut all clones were required to maintain on Kamino; it appeared as if he’d let it grow out a bit, his bangs were just teasing his brow.

Mash shook his hand once before they each pulled away from the gesture.

Looking to his left, Mash met Razor’s eyes as his brother walked over.

“This is our Corporal’n slicer.” Mash nodded towards him.

“Razor.” He responds.

“That’s ours.” Baxter nods to his right to the clone next to him.

“Ram, Corporal and sniper” The Corporal previously known as 34 chimed in with a dip of his helmet.

Mash gave a small nod in response to the clone.

“Nines, sniper.” Nines took the opportunity of silence to speak up.

“Hawk, demo.” Hawk waved a loose hand while continuing to fool around with the security system console on the other side of the room.

The man behind Baxter adjusted his stance before clearing his throat. “Char, demo.”

Mash gave the man a small nod of acknowledgement before he met the eyes of the Trauma Squad sergeant.

Baxter turned and gestured towards the last man who hadn’t been named, currently with his head inside the command console where Razor had previously been.

“The kid over there’s Jack; our slicer.”

“Razor, you alright taking Nines and Char on a perimeter sweep?”

“Just the courtyard or do we wanna start covering this in sectors?” Razor inquired, looking between the two Sergeants.

Mash glanced at Baxter momentarily and the Trauma Squad Sergeant did the same.

“I don’t think we need to start heading off into the jungle just yet,” Baxter’s voice was controlled and somewhat reluctant.

“Maybe just walk the perimeter outside of the courtyard for now. Take an hour and sweep it; check each road for damage or foot traffic and call in if you see any signs of more droid patrols.” Mash continued to eye Baxter as he spoke.

“Alright,” Razor nodded before briefly meeting the eyes of Nines and then the one identified as Char, giving them a small nod to move out.

Mash firmly gripped Razor’s shoulder plating as his brother went to walk by before leaving with the two soldiers in tow.

“How’s it coming, Jack?”

“Corporal Razor mentioned the power cell might’ve been tampered with.” Jack strained to look out from the small space he had his head in, hands up under the console inside the cylinder structure.

“Well if that’s the case then we can’t get any messages out at the moment. Not even to a nearby fleet.” Baxter muttered, kneeling down next to his comrade. “May not be the time,” Baxter raised his voice enough to catch Mash’s attention. “But what exactly did your mission debrief necessitate… In detail?”

Mash watched the Sergeant for a moment and remained silent until he got to his feet to face him fully.

“I’m not sure if we’re there yet.” Mash was calm in his statement but still firm. This could get ugly again and Razor wasn’t there to mediate. Not that he needed it… But when it came to this Sergeant, he found his fuse seemingly much shorter than normal.

“Not sure if we’re there yet.” Baxter repeats with a nod, a hand coming to the back of his head before he ran his fingers through his hair quickly. “Y’know if I didn’t know better I’d say-”

“Go on,” Mash cut him off slightly.

Baxter almost smiled before glancing around the room for a brief time. While his expression said amusement, his eyes held a certain reluctance similar to Mash’s.

“... Let’s just contact Kamino and get this mess sorted.”

“Good answer.” Mash gave a nod and crossed his arms; as well as he could in the armor at least while watching the Sergeant walk over to his man at the command console.

Shaking his head, Mash headed over to Hawk.

“Any luck?” Mash braced a hand on the station Hawk was sitting at and let his eyes graze over some of the cam screens.

“Systems should be finished with the reboot soon.” Hawk nods. “I’ve got no trips on the sensors aside from us so… I think we’re clear for now.”

Mash lifted his gaze and looked out one of the transparisteel viewports of the Tower, eyes picking up on the large vines that coated the planet surface.

“For now.”

The jungle just surrounding the Temple held an eerie silence. One that hadn’t been present when Echo Squad was on their approach from RV point Axe. The firefight had since quieted any fauna in the vicinity of the Towers.

Making their way across the courtyard and towards the East road, Nines kicked a few crippled B1s out of his path as they walked. While the sniper was content to keep his eyes forward and on the task at hand, his eyes eventually traveled over to the Trauma Squad member with them; Char.

Nines let himself look the clone up and down for a beat. He walked different; fought different; no doubt probably did everything a little different too. While your average civvy probably couldn’t comprehend that fact, for a clone, it was just part of the job - part of the job that the Kaminoans never taught them. It was something they just learned early in their lives, despite being manufactured to be the same, there was always that little bit of human that the longnecks could never fully scrub out. Nines figured every training sergeant probably instilled some sort of mindset that reinforced their tendency to individualize themselves; he’d heard rumors about other trainers.

The Trauma Squad member, like the rest of his squad, had green-like color accents on his white armor. While there was no way in hell that the other squad could tell due to the mud they were still covered in, Echo Squad’s color was red; their armor was accented in the red to orange colors.

Nines’ eyes caught the couple of stairs ahead that went down a foot before smoothing out into the road heading into the Jungle; the place where one of Trauma Squad had thrown a grenade was prominent in the blasted off pieces of stair that littered the vicinity.

“You’re demo right?” Nines gestured down to the rubble with the barrel of his Deece. “This you?” He laughed.

The Trauma Squad member came to a stop and slowly looked towards Nines, taking a beat to process the question.

“Was the Sarg,” Char finally responded. He had a somewhat deeper voice, more so than Mash or Baxter too.

“Guy’s not one for the rulebook is he?” Nines raised an eyebrow from under his helmet before maneuvering down what intact stairs were left.

“Least he didn’t have us rolling in osik,” The man chuckled and Nines felt annoyance prickle his skin.

“First off its mud. We were running recon and needed to take precautions. Second, we were following a strict outline from the Jedi… They wanted the location taken quickly and quietly to avoid making a scene; I imagine they didn’t want their meditation-force-Temple lookin like a battleground when we were done.” He gestures back to the blown up set of stairs that were getting further away as they continued down the road, checking for any droid activity.

“...Smells like osik.” Char stated.

Nines clenched his jaw and caught the way Razor gave him the littlest shake of his helmet.

Don’t.

Nines let silence fall, although it took every ounce of self control he had left not to start picking this guy apart. It was in his nature to just… Wind people up. This guy was winding him up and was looking like he wasn’t even giving it his full attention.

Glancing down at himself for the briefest second he caught the sight of the thick layer of mud still caked to his armor… It did smell terrible.... But it was mud…. Hopefully.

The soldiers continued down the quiet path that led deeper into the jungle until they reached the end of the architectural road that ended at some stairs and a small dirt path, not even a road, that continued into the wilderness.

“Well that was eventful.” Nines muttered before turning to head back in the other direction.

They still had the north and south roads to walk. They’d already swept the west road now opposite their position. “Remind me again why they needed us for this job. This is infantry level work.”

“Says the talking osik pile.” Char surmised, following the sniper with his gaze as he went to leave.

“Wayii- copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? (Good grief- are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?)” Nines had whipped around, coming relatively face to face or- helmet to helmet with the Trauma Squad member.

“Alright, easy you two!” Razor interrupted the two, putting a hand on each of their shoulders before pushing them apart. “Same team.”

Char glanced towards Razor for a brief time before bowing his head in a small nod. Turning towards Nines he eyed the sniper for a brief time before stepping past him to continue their patrol back to the Temple.

Nines muttered once more under his breath before meeting the gaze of the Corporal.

“You may know how to wind people up, but you make it relatively easy for others to do the same to you, vod.” Razor chuckled before patting his brother’s shoulder plating.

Nines rolled his eyes before walking alongside his older brother back down the road to continue their sweep.

“How about- now?” Jack grunted, half of his armored body cramped into the small compartment under the command console.

“Nothing,” Baxter responded, staring at the dark holotable.

Mash watched the two quietly while his arms crossed, trying to keep his expression as blank as possible before he exchanged the smallest glance with Hawk and Ram who was standing a meter or two from them.

A string of curses in Mando’a left the clone before the clattering of metal parts followed. The holotable flickered to life moments later.

“Wait that did it,” Baxter held a hand down to the opening where Jack was.

“You serious? The power cell isn’t even in place I’m holding it-”

“Just don’t move.” Baxter cut him off before going about the controls.

Mash took a couple of steps forward and began putting in a secure channel code.

“I’ll contact our advisor,” Mash explained, fingers working quickly along the bottoms of the console.

Baxter seemed to stall in his movements as the Echo Squad Sergeant stepped up and he retracted his hands from the console. “You do that,” The Trauma Squad Sergeant moved back slowly before crossing his own arms.

Mash slowed his actions as he processed the dramatic response from the soldier before resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Finishing the code, Mash activated the transmitter and stood up straight, watching as the holotable, now illuminated, hummed to life.

It seemed much longer, but a few seconds later a hologramic figure emerged from the table and Mash was quick to recognize him.

“Sergeant, how is your assignment going?” Skipper questioned, hands loosely on his armor belt.

It was a relief to see their Clone Advisor, but Mash found the words leaving his mouth to be far from that thought that grazed his mind.

“Temple’s been retaken, but sir, would you mind explaining to me what the hell high command is playing at?” Mash leaned forward on the console, hands on either side of the controls.

“...Excuse me, Sergeant?” Mash rarely ever talked to a superior with such an aggressive tone.

“Let me,” Baxter less than gently shoved Mash out of the way before taking his spot in front of the hologram. “What he means to ask is what high command’s been doing with their thumbs up their shebs while we trip over our own feet down here trying to recapture a Jedi timeshare.”

“Wayii.” Mash roughly rubbed a hand over his shaved head before cursing. “Show a little decorum,” Mash seethed.

“Me show decorum?” Baxter turned towards the Echo Squad leader, a hand to his armored chest.

“Alright, settle down!” Skipper almost had to yell to get the attention of the two Sergeants before they both finally directed their attention to him. “Mash, what’s the state of the Temple? Enemy activity?”

“We’ve secured the position, sir.” Mash said. “We eliminated a small Separatist force holding the location; wasn’t nearly enough to hold it indefinitely; most likely just a temporary force to hold the grounds.”

“They may send reinforcements then. Be on guard.” Skipper warned.

Mash gave a nod before glancing around at the others temporarily. “When will the Jedi be arriving?”

His question was followed by silence, and Baxter was the first to react as he adjusted his stance and took a step forward.

“Well?”

“...The Jedi don’t have a replacement lined up yet.” Not only did his reluctance to respond clue them in, but the hesitation in his voice as well.

“Excuse me?” Baxter slowly blinked in response, posture twitching.

“Meaning?” Mash questioned.

“Meaning,” Skippered sighed lightly. “You all aren’t going anywhere until they send a Jedi.”

Baxter, being the first to react again, kicked the command console, causing the hologram to flicker.

“Hey!” Jack called from under the console.

“You gotta be-” A string of curses in mando’a followed Baxter’s proclamation as he took a couple steps away from the console.

“Take it easy,” Mash put a hand up.

Returning to the console, Baxter rests both hands on the rim.

“I need to talk to our advisor. He’ll get us out of here.” Baxter made clear.

“Sergeant, your advisor has been pulled for an assignment, so Trauma is officially under my jurisdiction until he returns.”

The man was fuming, but he remained quiet, much to Mash’s surprise.

“You both are to hold the location and report back any Separatist activity or attempts to retake the Temple. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.” Skipper eased, holding out a hand as he spoke. “The Temple has a storage facility with foodstuffs and rations to keep you comfortable if you all are stuck longer than your dry ration packs will allow.”

“We better not be,” Baxter grumbled under his breath, glancing towards Ram.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, sir.” Mash reassured the Advisor. “We’ll keep the Temple secure.”

“I’ll contact you when I have word on the Jedi.” Skipper gives them a final nod before the hologram disappears and it falls quiet.

“...Can I get up now?” Jack grunted, a foot kicking slightly as the man was still on his back halfway under the console.

“Alright,” Mash mumbles quietly, meeting Hawk’s eyes before glancing towards Baxter as the man had since began pacing around slowly. “Well-”

“Jetiise (Jedi; plural),” Baxter uttered under his breath before shaking his head.

“Hey,” Mash’s tone lowered in a warning manner. The man seemed quick to want to bash on any of the higher ups.

“It’ll only be for a few days.” Ram spoke up, meeting Mash’s gaze for a brief moment before looking towards his Sergeant.

Walking over to the computer stations lining the far wall, Mash stepped past Baxter to grab his helmet and put it on.

A couple careful blinks later, he activated their secure comm channel.

“Razor? How’s the patrol going?” Mash spoke up, eyeline shifting to the left as Jack crawled out from under the commander console and put a hand through his hair with a mumble.

The comms crackled briefly before he got a response.

“All qui… out here, Mash. No sign u-... oid traffic around the T… ple yet. We’re almost done ch... south road th… be heading back.”

“Transmission was fuzzy but I understand. Let me know if anything changes,” Mash responded.

“Yes sir. Any news?”

Mash clenched his jaw and thought it over for a moment before shaking his head.

“Long story short- we’re stuck here together until the Jedi can send someone. Could be a few days.”

“Did he j… ays!?”

That was Nines alright.

“I see,” Razor responded. “Brief us when w…. back.”

“Will do,” Mash finished the transmission before taking his helmet off with a sigh.

“Just great.” Nines growled under his breath, his grasp on his Deece tightening and loosening as he fidgeted. “Stuck with crack squad for-”

“Who’re you calling a crack squad, mate?” Char cut him off. “We’re not the squad looking like they just crawled out of a swamp.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make sure they find your body at the bottom a swamp, mate.” Nines barked back, having turned on his heel to stop Char in his tracks.

“Gev! Take it down!” Razor ordered, shouldering Nines to get his younger comrade to back off. “Both of you,” Razor turned a look on Char before gesturing them both forward. “Squabbling like Infantry cadets for galaxy’s sake-” He cursed before walking ahead of both of them.

Nines begrudgingly followed, but not before exchanging a small glance with Char before they began heading back to the Temple.

The walk back was quiet and by the time they’d gotten up to the communications center, the atmosphere had leveled out.

“The perimeter is clear.” Razor announced, removing his helmet as he entered the communications room.

Mash turned and met the eyes of his Corporal with a nod.

“Seppies won’t stay quiet for long,” Baxter chimed in, leaning against the command console with his armed crossed, expression almost belligerent as he looked back down at the ground with a scowl. “They’ll send reinforcements and soon.”

“We’ll be ready,” Mash agreed, hands resting on his armor belt. “First things first, we need to start organizing patrols; keep an eye on local air traffic an-”

“Who- put you in charge exactly?” Baxter questioned, his expression revealing genuine confusion but also fatigue.

Mash clenched his jaw and breathed out quietly through his nose before shooting Razor the smallest look.

“It’ll only be a couple days, I’m sure we can balance leadership.” Ram proposed, sitting at one of the chairs at the computer stations at the opposite side of the room.

Baxter’s body jolted as if he was trying to prevent a scoff before he nodded.

“Better only be a couple days.”

ONE WEEK LATER…

Nines clenched his jaw, staring down towards his hands before his gaze lifted and he met Char’s eyes. The Trauma Squad member stared back at him, expression hardly set but relatively at ease despite the fact.

Tapping his finger lightly, Nines swallowed before he finally nodded.

“I’ll raise you three Nuna jerky strips.” Nines finally stated before tossing the packaged meat into the center of the table.

“I’ll match that, vod.” Char nodded before grabbing some packaged jerky strips from the backpack next to his feet, tossing them into their pot where other small foods and rations resided.

From the other side of the communications center, Ram watched the two playing cards with a tightly knit brow.

“I don’t get it,” Ram finally muttered, giving a shake of his head.

“What?” Razor questioned while chewing on a ration stick, eyes on the SOP manual up on the datapad balanced on his propped up leg.

“They’ll be at each other's throats night and day- but as soon as the Sabacc cards come out they turn more civil than jetiise.”

Razor let a hard breath out through his nose in amusement before shrugging lightly, using a knuckle to scroll down on the datapad.

Those two were always going at each other, but over the past several days they’d each discovered their love of the card game, Sabacc. They’d started developing an awkward love/hate relationship with the game at the center.

“As long as they’re quiet,”

The week had passed by slowly. Razor and Ram were getting along alright during the time, however Mash and Baxter were still at opposite ends of a spectrum. They butted heads but a brotherly atmosphere was starting to settle in.

Turning in his chair, Ram faces the computer station and quickly goes about cycling through the comm channels, listening for any chatter that might clue them into a hostile force. Alongside that chore was looking for any Separatist activity on the air traffic scanners. So far they’d had nothing all week.

The beeping of one of the air traffic scanners causes both Ram and Razor to look up from their distractions. Ram is the first to swing around in his chair and lean over to the neighboring computer station.

Razor got up from his chair and walked over.

“Got something?” He questioned.

Ram evaluated the reading before narrowing the scanner range.

“I’ve got a ship entering the atmosphere, around 50 klicks out.” Ram responded, brow knit as he watched the screen on the station plot a hypothetical course for the ship that was approaching. “Computer's plotting its course; it looks like they’re heading for us.” Ram muttered before getting to his feet. Cycling through the channels for a moment, Ram found the only other active one and pressed one of the buttons on the panel to unmute the transmission.

“Incoming ship, you are entering restricted Republic Military airspace,”

Razor eyed the image on the screen that estimated the ship’s trajectory as Ram continued to recite one of the standard messages from the SOPs manual.

“Do you copy?” Ram waited but only static came through on the comms.

“I repeat, incoming ship, you have entered restricted Republic Military airspace-”

“They’re coming in way too fast.” Razor muttered, eyeing the readings on the computer screen built into the station. “Reads are coming through… Ships heavily damaged.”

“Specs?” Ram inquired.

“Hull integrity is at critical levels, heat spikes all over the ship, scanner’s reading engine failure. That ship’s not being piloted, it’s going down.”

“What’s the estimated crash path?” Ram asked, finger hovering over the comm button, allowing the static to come through.

Going about the controls on the station, Razor expanded the aerial map of the surrounding area and the computer AI marked an estimated crash zone.

At seeing the area, Razor leaned in further, brow knitting tightly.

“Something wrong?” Ram questions.

“That’s just near RV point Axe… Aren’t they patrolling that area?” Razor questioned, turning to the fellow Corporal.

At processing his comrade’s words, Ram quickly abandoned the comm frequency he was using to contact the unknown ship and set the frequency to their squad comm channel.

“Sergeants we’ve got a ship coming in with a projected crash zone in your area… Baxter? Sergeant Mash?”

Razor watched the fellow soldier quietly before glancing to the side seeing Nines and Char had since approached, similarly reflected expressions of concern.

“Haar'chak, I can’t get anything through,” Ram swore before shaking his head; meeting Razor’s eyes. “Wanna head out?”

In the past few days, they’d discovered how communications were difficult on the planet. If a party was out in the jungle, comms were always very sensitive. They knew it would complicate matters if the Separatists organized an attempt to retake the Temple.

“... Yeah, let’s go.” Razor agreed before quickly going to grab his helmet. “You two hold down here,” Razor looked to both Nines and Char.

“Let us know if you need any help.” Nines nodded before shrugging. “... Well I guess you won’t be able to so-... If it looks bad from here we’ll- consider coming to help.”

“Good to know,” Ram smirked before throwing his helmet on.

Nodding to the other Corporal, they both began running for the hall.

There had been a short rain shower earlier in the morning. The ground was soft and their armored boots sunk into the soil as they treaded through the jungle.

Baxter was walking a few yards ahead with Jack at his side, and Mash followed closely behind with Hawk.

The Trauma squad members were chatting lightly amongst themselves and Mash and Hawk chatted on and off.

They had fallen into a relatively simple routine over the past few days. They’d hit bumps now and again, but everyone usually did their best to stay out of each other’s way.

The ease of the atmosphere around them came to a screeching halt however, when the crackling of sticks sounds off to their 9 o’clock.

Baxter is the first to ready his rifle before anyone else had time to process the sound disruption. They may not have been a squad, but they knew how to make it work, and everyone worked off of each other in accordance with the developments around them.

All of them trained on an assortment of foliage several meters away, more rustling follows before small chirp-like noises emit from the bushes.

It was a familiar sound. One of the native fauna from the planet, a small reptilian species. However the familiarity didn’t stop Baxter from watching the position from which the sound radiated with a raised weapon.

Jack had his weapon raised hesitantly as well, although Sergeant Mash’s lack of reaction caused him to second guess his own. They hadn’t seen any action in weeks. It was obvious Sergeant Baxter was getting an itchy trigger finger to shoot something.

“S’nothing, brother.” Mash mumbled, rifle loosely held in front of him.

Baxter rolled his eyes from under his helmet and muttered under his breath before continuing on their patrol.

“Jedi are wasting Special Forces; as if Geonosis wasn’t enough of a wake up call for em,” Baxter said, his pace picking up.

Mash tries not to roll his shoulders in an effort to ease the prickle of uneasiness he got from Baxter’s comment. How had this clone survived this long without getting himself terminated.

“C’mon, vod,” Mash mumbled, knowing Baxter would understand his comment.

In training, they were taught that Jedi leadership was invaluable. However at the Battle of Geonosis, the clone army was in for a somewhat rude awakening at just how unprepared the Jedi seemed to be in leading the army. Special Forces lost half of their numbers, and strategically, the Battle was a mess. Many clones came out of their first battle confused, even angered, but still unwaveringly loyal to the Jedi… well most of them did. Baxter made Mash rethink that part.

“Maybe the next assignment will have us mopping floors in the Jedi Temple, who knows you gotta remain optimistic.” Baxter called over his shoulder.

Mash just shook his head and exchanged a small glance with Hawk.

Crackling over the comms caused Mash to slow his pace, a hand raising subconsciously towards his helmet.

“Razor? That you?” Mash spoke up.

“We-.... ip comi… cra… yo-...”

“Damn it,” Mash muttered before using his knuckles to knock the side of his helmet a couple of times. “Are you getting anything clear Baxter?”

“No,” The Trauma Sergeant grumbled, eyeline on the ground as he tried to listen to the gargled transmission. “Come on boys, spit it out.”

“Repe… shi… proj… crash…”

Mash shook his head lightly as he tried to listen only to start hearing a roar of a ship in the background of the transmission.

“...You hear that?” Mash turned towards Hawk who nodded.

“Hey Max,” Baxter suddenly spoke up.

The Sergeant’s expression fell from under his helmet. “It’s Mash,” He grumbled before turning around to look at the Sergeant.

He was looking up through the vine canopy.

Mash’s brow knit in response to seeing the Sergeant before he followed the man’s eyeline to the sky, eyes widening at the sight.

“Uh… That doesn’t look good.” Jack stated, also finding the ship that was hurtling down towards them in a ball of fire.

“GO GO GO!” Mash yelled, waving the men off. They began running towards the ship and managed to avoid most of the debris coming off of the craft as it crashed through the vine canopy and barreled into the mud around forty yards away.

Half of the men had dived for cover from broken pieces of the ship that had rained down.

“Everyone alright?” Mash called out, the question leaving his mouth before he could register his own state.

“Fine here sir,”

“All good.”

Mash quickly got to his feet, seeing Baxter had already done the same.

“Not what I was expecting when I hoped for some action but I won’t complain,” The Trauma Sergeant didn’t waste any time, and Mash wasn’t going to slow him down as they quickly began making their way towards the wreckage. “Wanna bet they were trying to warn us?” Baxter laughed, referring to the rest of their group at the Temple.

Mash nodded to the side in agreement, feeling Hawk come up on his right as they followed the canyoned trail the ship had left in its wake.

It was a fairly large craft, a freighter by the look of what was left.

A small explosion off of one of the dislodged engines causes the team to jump back a step.

Baxter suddenly patted Mash had on the back before going closer to the wreck.

“We’ll cover the cockpit area,” He practically threw the comment over his shoulder before jogging off with Jack close behind him.

“But- I- Erm,” Mash shook his head and quieted his objection before it could pass through his lips.

“Let’s cover the back of the ship,” Mash responded, looking towards his comrade. “Looks like the ship’s main structure is still relatively intact. We might be able to enter through the cargo bay.”

Hawk acknowledged his Sergeant with a nod before going to follow the clone. Both keep a close eye on the wreckage as they approach. Parts of the hull were missing, revealing little hints of darkness within the craft. There could still be lifeforms on board.

Hawk let his eyes run along the side of the crashed ship as they made their way closer. Most of the ship wasn’t ablaze, the engines had been, but they’d broken off the main craft when it struck the ground.

Giving the side of the ship another once over, Hawk cleared his throat. “My HUD isn’t recognizing this freighter, sir.”

“It isn’t Republic, keep your eyes open.” Mash responded, rifle raised.

They get to the back of the ship and the ramp is dislodged from the freighter. Giving the dark opening a quick once over, Mash nodded to Hawk and they began making their way inside.

Cargo boxes and cages of supplies littered the space. Despite the wreckage everywhere, Mash was quick to spot an outlying object.

“10 o’clock,” Mash nodded to the corpse off to the left as they headed further into the ship.

Hawk noted the body, as well as another farther away against the wall and followed the Sergeant. Their HUDs could pick up life signs and so far, there weren’t any.

“Hey Mack!” Baxter called out suddenly. “We’ve got some dead lizards up here!” Baxter appears from an elevated platform up the wall at the back of the cargo bay that they had been heading towards. There was most likely a door to the cockpit and a ladder somewhere.

Mash shook his head and looked up, noting the ship was relatively small now, from what was remaining intact; the ship was now clear.

“It’s Mash.” The Echo squad Sergeant responded under his breath, lowering his rifle in front of him

“Trandoshans?” Hawk inquired, craning his neck to look up to where Baxter and Jack were.

“Lizards. Did I stutter, kid?” Baxter responded.

“Yeah Hawk, Trandoshans,” The remnants of a chuckle sounded through Jack’s helmet as he softened Baxter’s sarcastic response.

Both jumped down into the cargo area and Baxter playfully knocked Hawk’s shoulder plating with his knuckles.

A sudden shudder of cargo crates in the back right corner of the ship’s cargo bay causes the soldiers to jump into action. Mash and Hawk have their weapons trained on the origin of where the sound originated and Baxter and Jack did the same. The first sign of a potential hostile in a week. It was safe to say they were anticipating a threat.

Taking a couple steps closer, Baxter kept his rifle trained at the corner of the damaged ship’s bay before hand signaling to the others.

Mash, Hawk and Jack all gave nods in response before Baxter spoke up.

“Come out!” Voice alone, Baxter’s ranged on the lower end of what was common for clones; coupled with the helmet filtering his voice, he sounded even more menacing.

When nothing followed the demand, Baxter knocked the crates with a calculated kick of his armored leg, jostling them a good bit but not moving them enough to reveal the hostile.

“NOW!”

Changing the settings on his HUD, Mash changed his helmet display to thermal and after a couple seconds, his brow knit together at the readings coming from behind the crates.

“Bax-”

“Am I speaking Huttese? Get out here you di-”

“Take it easy, Baxter!” Mash finally snapped, jabbing the other Sergeant with his armored elbow before lowering his weapon.

“Er you crazy?” Baxter growled, helmeted gaze whipping around to the other Sergeant.

“Alright you,” Mash took a couple of steps closer, “C’mon out,” Voice still significantly firm, but lower in volume to Baxter’s, Mash waited for some kind of response to the changed approach.

The silence that followed doesn’t ease Baxter’s caution as he kept his rifle trained on the crates before eyes peek over one of the boxes.

“Yeah you- out.” Mash muttered pointing to the ground in front of his feet with his forefinger, rifle still held up in one hand trained ahead.

A small being made their way out from behind the crates and Hawk slowly lowered his rifle; Jack followed the action not far behind.

Taking a moment to process the lifeform, Baxter felt his shoulders fall. “Too bad,” Baxter finally muttered. “Was looking for an excuse to unload on somethin,” Baxter’s eyes trail over the young girl now standing in front of him with slight disappointment.

“Sir,” Jack breathed out a laugh.

“Told you Jay,” Baxter glanced back towards his slicer, “I got more of that sociopathic blood in my system than the others.”

Mash looked over the being quietly. She was young, probably an early adolescent; dirty and emaciated. His HUD was picking up on an accelerated heart rate.

“Sir,”

Mash turned and looked over his shoulder to see his Corporal, Razor, along with Trauma Squad Corporal, Ram.

“We went ahead and did an extra sweep of the crash site perimeter. Any life in he- Oh,” Razor caught sight of the small being that barely met the soldiers chest plates in height.

“Affirmative,” Hawk shrugged lightly, rifle at ease in front of him before he looked back down to the girl who had taken a few steps back towards the crates she’d been hiding behind.

“So we’ve got no other survivors,” Baxter stated, processing the fact before nodding.

“The ship didn’t come up on my HU-”

“Didn’t on ours either,” Baxter cut Razor off as he looked over the torn up ship around them.

“I’ll begin scanning the haul,” Ram offered before leaving the damaged cargo bay.

Mash looked around further before turning his eyes to Baxter as he moved out of his peripheral.

“A miracle she survived this,” The Sergeant of Trauma Squad grunted while evaluating the ship’s seemingly nonexistent roof before turning his eyes to the child. “You’re lucky, kid.”

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Chapter Art & Map | Echo & Trauma Squad

CHAPTER NOTE: If you’re reading this, well first off congratulations. I’m frankly quite surprised you haven’t fallen asleep yet or given up. Second of all, I hope you enjoyed!!! One note: Mando’a is littered throughout, I apologize if I made mistakes, I’m still learning!

Support is appreciated if you had fun reading :) I hope to post the next chapter soon!

#my fic #clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clones #jedi #grand army of the republic #star wars ocs #clone wars ocs #republic military #temple of eedit #devaron #galaxy far far away

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