I finish reading the report as I frown. Not turning away from it I speak to the holographic displays of General Skywalker, Tiplee and Admiral Yularen: “You wish for to divert my forces to seize a sole Munificent containing a, and I quote here, ‘defective Clone’? Firstly, I am not sure how comfortable I feel about this choice in words. Secondly you would have leave the convoy I am escorting susceptible to various Sep raiders and privateers?”
“It is necessary. We don’t know what happened to Tup and you’re the closest Republic force to the ship in question.” Skywalker says coldly.
I sigh as I nod: “Very well, but I wish for guarantees that my detached forces are returned to post haste.”
“Agreed. I will ensure their departure myself.” Yularen responds before the Jedi could demand I hand over my well earned ships.
“Then I shall detach the 2055th from the convoy alongside the Fondor’s Daughter, Prince’s Duty and Lucky Kelp. The detachnt shall be commanded by Senior Captain Sicato. He’ll speak on my behalf if I cannot be contacted.” I say into the room, Lieutenant Slas already sending out the information to the required ships.
“Very, well.” Yularen says, acknowledging my decision.
“Make haste, I would like to co to the bottom of this as quickly as possible.” General Tiplee orders.
“I shall do my very best.” I reply before cutting the transmission. Once the hologram dissipates I let out a sigh. Karking Jedi. The one ti I decide to try and do sothing nice for them they saddle with so inane task. Maker keep .
“Ships separating. We’ve just linked up with the tracking devices. We should be able to catch the Sep cruiser before it reaches Centares.” Mi-Kus reports.
“Then make haste and prepare Hope Company and our arms-n for aggressive boarding actions.” I order.
“Do you intend on joining them, sir?” Mi-Kus asks.
“Might as well. It’ll give you more experience in commanding more than a single ship. Maker knows you could use it before your promotion to Commodore.” I say.
“Sir?” Mi-Kus asks.
“Well I assud you’d wish for an independent command eventually. Better make sure you’ll only be a Commodore for a bit before promoting you further by giving you plenty of experience now.” I reply in answer.
“Sir, all due respect, but I am quite content with my current position and trajectory.”
“Oh, very well. You’ll still command the naval battle. Even Adjunct Captains should have so experience in doing so. Besides, it’s been too long since I’ve lead a proper boarding action anyway.” I say, shutting down the conversation.
“If you insist, sir.”
“That I do.”
I double check my armor on the bridge as we exit hyperspace, watching as my Adjutant Captain leers at the Munificent before us. He had two Dreadnoughts and two Consulars. Not to ntion two squadrons of fighters, bloodied upon nigh countless enemy Vultures, Hyenas and Tri-fighters. I finish my inspection of my armor as Mi-Kus steps towards the tactical display.
My Adjutant Captain clears his throat slightly before speaking: “Alright then. Full speed ahead, cut in front of that Munificent, she must not be allowed to retreat. Send the Teardrop and Falchion ahead of us to ensure it. They’re to pull back if their shields get low. I want the Little Star to take the enemy from the flank and see if she can knock out the enemy’s engines. All ships may fire at will, but hold off on our missiles until I give the order. Launch fighters and keep them on a tight leash, I want them as a picket screen, not as a strikegroup.”
I nod as I march out towards the hangar bay. A good start. I begin to inspect my armor again as I make haste to my designated LAAT/c below. Chestplate, helt with faceplate and oxygen supply connected to a small scrubber-tank combination on my back. Greaves and vambraces, slugthrower and holdout blasters, knives and my hairpin. All present, excellent. I finish my descent to the hangar to witness the last of the Starchasers leaving the bay.
I turn my quick march into a jog as I enter the modified AT-TE to find it happily filled with Lieutenant Dudd and his 2nd Platoon. I nod to the n in lieu of greeting as the hatches close and the seals go airtight. The LAAT with a painted pair of burning bottle-naids on its sides begins to lumber out of the hangar, the modified IFV below her shuddering as flak and turbolaser fla pass by between the groups of ships. I silently count the seconds as I affix my mask.
“This is your pilot speaking. How are y’all. We’re lucky to have the Admiral with us, so try not to get him killed.” Seagull’s voice echoes through the intercom, “We’ll be clamping in T minus thirty secs, so get ready.”
The Clones prepare themselves, adjusting shield straps, Z-6 cannons and their other equipnt as they gather around the boarding hatch in the center of the AT-TE. As Seagull quietly counts down the room is bathed in red lights. Finally I can feel the IFV’s magnetic feet clamp down on the hull of the Munificent and the cutting lasers activate. The AT-TE adjusts itself to void the compartnt before clamping back down and creating an airtight seal between the two of us.
“Green lights, go, go go!” Seagull reports and Clones jump through the recently opened hatch in groups of four. I’m one of the last through, jumping into the cold Sep hallway to find two groups of Clones already spreading out.
“I’ll take the bridge bound group.” I inform Lieutenant Dudd.
“Got it, sir. We’ll move to secure the engine room.” The Lieutenant replies before both groups begin their quick marches through the shuddering ship.
It might be a faster advance than my doctrine usually recomnded, yet right now, with so few n aboard, speed was of the essence. A group of B1s eventually run into us, they’re slaughtered with a precise volley of blue blaster fire, they’re few returning potshots thudding harmlessly against the shields of my n. We continue over the droids’ bodies towards the bridge.
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We barge onto the bridge, shields held high, to find a Super Tactical droid, various B1 pilots and a dozen Commando droids. No ti for hesitation, the Clones open fire, tossing droid poppers and taking on vibroblades onto their shields as I nail the Tactical droid in the chest with a slug. The machine collapses and in a quick motion I pull a vibroknife from one of my boots and throw it into the head of a jumping Commando droid that made it through the periter.
I pull another vibroknife from my other boot and hold it under my slugthrower as I nail a B1 in the head. The blasterfire ends shortly after and I let my gaze drift over the field. Three of my n were on the floor, two standing wounded, the dic was already seeing to the downed n, so I march up to the Super Tactical droid and rip out its command codes from one of its arms. Inserting them quickly into the bridge and activating the ergency override with an unnecessary flourish.
“Sergeant Pup, get to the comms station. Hail the taskforce and inform them of our situation. Half of you to the other side of the bridge, establish defenses. Corporal Leet, comm the other platoons, give them an update and get their sitreps.”
“Yessir.” Echoes through the bridge. Soon enough the ships around them stop their attacks and start moving towards the flanks of the Munificent, as if to broadside the Sep warship. And yet as the ships finish their approaches a few quick commands into the interfaces on my bridge begin extending the Munificent’s docking tubes, which the two Dreadnoughts copy with their own docking hatches. Two thunks and I know companies of arms-n are beginning to swarm into the Sep warship.
“Sir,” Sergeant Pup interrupts my musings, “Lieutenant Daffy found Clone Trooper Tup. He was in the ship’s dical bay.”
“I want all of Lieutenant Daffy’s detachnt to escort him to the Little Revenge’s dical bay asap. Finish securing the ship, I expect the skeleton crew will arrive to take over the bridge once the route is fully secure. anwhile, decapitate that Super Tactical and bring it to our techs, we might be able to scrounge sothing out of it. I make for the Little Revenge.”
“Yessir.” The Sergeant replies, “Leet, you and your squad escort the Admiral.”
“On it, sir.” The Clone says before they assemble around . We make haste, I wanted a word with our quarry.
I watch closely as my chief dical officer continues his inspections of the Clone strapped and sedated on the dical bed. I had changed into my usual Navy uniform to better I oversee the Togruta’s inspections. We had decided on using the isolation ward and had a group of arms-n standing guard with blasters on stun as our taskforce and looted ship made for New Holstice and from there to our fortress world of Handooine.
Finally the Doctor leaves the separated room and removes his face-mask: “He’s in perfect health as far as I can tell.”
I frown at the answer as I consider our options. Orders were to have him sent to Kamino asap and yet I hesitate. From the report Clone Trooper Tup had been in a trance like state. I exchange a glance with R4 who shrugs at . Not surprising she still has so trouble with … sentient logic.
“Would you recomnd we let him wake up?” I ask eventually.
Tevre rubs his chin in thought before answering: “It wouldn’t hurt as long as he doesn’t hurt himself. We don’t have any Jedi aboard, so we might have an easier ti of getting him to open up.”
“Then we’ll let him wake up.” I decide.
Chain watches quietly as he stands beside the Admiral in the observation room for Tup’s room. They were both concerned, the Admiral and him, if this was so sort of … defect, it had potential to appear throughout the Clone units in the army. And if it was so … fail-safe, as the Admiral quietly feared, gone wrong then it might be spread throughout the entire army.
“He should be waking any second now.” Doctor Tevre says.
“He better, we only have so much ti until we have no choice but to hand him over to the convoy to Kamino.” The Admiral mutters coldly.
And wasn’t that a wrench thrown into their plans. The Kaminoans had sent a personal escort to pick up Tup. Honestly it was … it was a ss. That alongside an ARC being detached from the 501st to act as General Skywalker’s liaison on Kamino during the … inspection. Well none of it was ideal.
“He’s waking now.” Tevre says as the Clone strapped to the bed starts jerking slightly against the restraints and looking around.
“Is he stable?” The Admiral asks.
“Yessir. All vitals green, though he is slightly agitated.” The Togruta answers dutifully.
“Then I’m going in. The soldier deserves a debrief and maybe we can learn … sothing from him.” The Admiral says.
“I’ll join you, sir.” Chain says, “Friendly face could help.”
“You ever t him?” The Admiral asks.
“Nosir, but that’s the thing we us Clones. We all share a face, don’t we.”
The Admiral lets out a sigh, Clone jokes had gotten old fast: “Alright, co along.”
The doors open and Chain almost flinches at the montarily manic eyes starring into his soul. Yet they return to lucidity quickly as Chain adjusts his gate slightly to end up in step with the Admiral. They end up on Tup’s left bedside to allow the arms-n and Tevre to observe.
“Trooper Tup?” The Admiral asks.
“Yes, sir.” The Clone replies.
“I am happy to inform you of your successful rescue from Separatist imprisonnt. I have been inford of the going’s on when it cos to your case. Other than the reports given to Captain Rex, do you have anything to report?”
“No, sir.”
The Admiral frowns slightly: “Then I’ll ask as plainly as possible, how do you feel? Have you experienced any lapses in lucidity? Have you experienced thoughts unlike your typical ones? If so, do you recall them?”
Tup seems slightly overwheld as the Admiral slowly asks his questions. Chain raises a brow slightly as the Admiral gives the … oddly specific questions. He’ll need to ask the Admiral about them later.
Tup hesitates before slowly replying: “I feel bad. I … I think so, sir. I … I don’t know about any thoughts.”
“So lapses in lucidity, but no … foreign thoughts or ideas? Are you certain?”
“I … no, sir.” Tup answers.
“You aren’t certain about foreign thoughts?”
“Yes, sir.”
The Admiral’s frown deepens and Chain catches a glimpse of fear in his friend’s eyes. The Admiral’s gaze skitters across the dical bed until they rest at the Clone’s eyes once more. Chain joins in and concentrates. They look like so many of his brothers’, tired, sleepless, exhausted.
“Do …” The Admiral starts before thinking better of it, “I want you to inform if any questions make you uncomfortable. We are trying to help you first and foremost.”
“I understand, sir.” The trooper answers, though his eyes go distant once more.
Chain leans towards the Admiral as he asks his question quietly: “He looks out of it, should we ask about the incident when he’s like this?”
The Admiral hesitates before making the decision: “Clone Trooper Tup, I would like your report on the execution of Jedi General Tiplar.”
The eyes stay distant as Tup almost jumps in his bed. His eyes go even more distant as he answers: “General Tiplar executed. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Killed the Jedi. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders.”
The Clone strapped to the bed goes quiet then, even while his eyes remain distant. The Admiral continues to frown. Chain wasn’t sure if he should throttle the Admiral for giving a brother an episode or throttle Tup for being so … annoyingly hard to crack.
“Did we ever … manage to get anything out of the Super Tactical?” The Admiral asks eventually.
“So logistical information we passed along to High Command and Navy Intelligence. So fleet movents we sent to High Command, Navy Intelligence, Steel Blade and Azure Hamr Color Commands and that Count Dooku himself had ordered the Capture of Tup and that he was about to be sent to Serenno after he had arrived at Centares.” Chain answers.
“Why would the Count want a Clone? Sep Intelligence or their Bioweapon research teams would have far better luck.”
“He is a Sith.” Chain says.
“That’s still up in the air, though he probably is a Dark Force Wielder. Maybe he thought he could … convince Trooper Tup to answer him with the Force.”
“So far that’s all speculation, sir.” Chain counters as Tup finally regains lucidity.
“Trooper Tup, are you with us?”
“Yes, sir.” Tup answers groggily.
“Do you rember anything?”
“I was answering your questions, sir.”
“And then?” The Admiral presses on.
“Good soldiers follow orders.” Tup’s eyes go distant again.
“Karking dreck.” The Admiral mutters.
“Should we … wait?”
“We will. Once he’s lucid I’ll ask about the … incident again. Maybe we’ll get a different reaction.”
Just then dical officer Tevre’s voice echoes through the intercom: “When he enters the trance his brain activity changes almost to that of a person in a state of trance. It is … unusual at the very least. It … I am not entirely certain, but it may be necessary to have a deep brain scan done to get better readings.”
“We’ll discuss this once we’ve finished the questions.” The Admiral decides.
It takes less ti than before and yet Chain’s mind is swirling with thoughts and fears alike. Could sothing like this happen to him? Would it happen to him? What about his brothers? Could sothing like this be prevented? Who had ordered this? The Jedi? The Kaminoans?
Finally Tup returns to lucidity and the Admiral doesn’t waste ti: “Trooper Tup, Give a report on the execution of General Tiplar.”
Tup’s eyes glaze over imdiately: “General executed. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Killed her. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders.”
“Damn it all.” The Admiral spits before making a quick march out of the rooms, Chain on his heels.
They enter the observation room to see the disturbed faces within. The arms-n look as if they had seen a ghost and Tevre is shifting from concern to outrage and back again in matters of seconds. Chain turns to observe Tup further as the Admiral dismisses the arms-n from the room. They make haste, but only after the Admiral gives them another order.
“You will not speak of this.”
“Of course, sir.” The senior arms-man, a Lieutenant, replies, before they leave.
The doors close and the Admiral turns to Doctor Tevre: “The brain scans, what are the risks?”
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