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ajremixI was hoping to get this up before I left for the cruise, and here it is. My way of getting over my disappointment of the lack of Delta Squad and, subsequently, coming to terms with some of the buggier parts of the book. If you haven't read it, you won't know what's going on.
Title: Triple Zero: D-Side
Fandom: Star Wars: Republic Commando
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 9862
Characters: Delta Squad, Omega Squad, Skirata, Vau, Jusik, Etain, Ordo
Summary: Scenes from the book in key of Delta.
367 days after Geonosis
“Advisor, this is Delta-1138, reporting in. The supply depot has been blown and we’ve procured a Sep ship for transportation.”
“Copy that, Delta lead. We have a priority communication coming in, hold for a moment.” The advisor replied, his small blue form flickering in the light of the holoprojector. He looked at something out of the projector’s range, a low, inaudible voice filtering over the hum of the stolen vessel. Scorch was in the back, complaining to Fixer how the wires kept getting in his way.
“C’mon! It’s your namesake! Can’t you fix this up?”
“You could make yourself useful and clean it up yourself.” Fixer replied. He was still splicing wires from the transmitter together so that when they came upon a GAR ship they wouldn’t get blown apart.
“Delta Squad, we’ve just received word of a Red Zero close to your sector. Four commandos and three prisoners.”
Boss cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Sev was in the co-pilot’s chair, Fixer lay under a control panel, but had stopped his work to listen on the conversation. Scorch gave the place a once over and gave Boss thumbs up. “I think we got some room to spare, Advisor. Who are the poor di’kute we need to rescue?”
“Omega Squad. As of right now, it’s estimated that they have about two and a half hours of air left. The closest ship, asides from yours, is approximately two hours away.” When the advisor faced Boss head on, he could feel the intense gaze boring into his through the helmet and holoprojector. “It is imperative that we get these prisoners. They may be the link to those terrorists that’s been blowing up our brothers.”
The air in the ship changed completely. It was hush and cold and intent. “Don’t worry, Advisor.” Boss said. “We’ll make sure we get there in time.” From the corner of his helmet he saw Sev give a thumbs up. The coordinates were downloaded and programmed into the nav computer. “Delta out.” Flicking off the projector, he swiveled in the pilot’s chair. “Forty, do you think you can get this crate moving any faster?”
“Let me finish modifying the transponder, just in case Omega’s feeling a little trigger happy. But I should be able to reroute all unessential power to the engines.”
“Good. Scorch, help him out.” Swinging back to the view screen, Boss laced his hands together. “And now we get to play the ever so enjoyable waiting game.”
“Omega, huh?”
His gaze slid over the Sev- the first words he’d spoken in a while. “Something interesting, Seven?”
The sniper’s eyes glittered darkly and there was tension in his jaw which meant something unpleasant was going to happen to someone in the near future. “Nothing to worry about.”
~*~*~*~
Stolen Separatist shuttle, Neimoidian class, time to target: twenty minutes
Despite traveling full speed for near a solid two hours, Delta lucked out in not drawing any Separatist attention, except for the one that seemed to have its sights on their goal.
Sev’s hand flicked over the console in front of him. “We’re within transmission range with Omega, Boss.”
“Good.” The problem with hijacking a vehicle that was already thrashed is not everything worked right. Especially when one was pressed to do a hash job of hijacking. “Omega, this is Delta Squad. Asides from the aimless sight-seeing, what’s your status?”
A groan came over the comm-link. “They’re starting to gloat already?”
“Knock it off, Fi. Niner receiving. We’re running to about forty minutes of air and one of the prisoners seems determined to get hypothermia. Asides from that, we’re waiting on you.”
“Well, rest assure, Omega. We won’t start the gloating until your shebse are onboard.”
“You really know how to ease a situation, Deltas.” The first voice- Fi –replied.
“Well, Scorch. I think we just found someone for you to talk to.”
“It’s always good to find someone else with a sense of humor, Boss.” The yellow-tagged commando said. “It makes for far more interesting conversations than Sev counting his kills.”
Both squads knew each other in the same way so many others knew them- by reputation. Delta Squad knew exactly what their reputation was- unstoppable, cruel and frighteningly efficient with a record that made eyebrows jump. Omega, though not as wide-spread a name, was noted for some very impressive missions themselves. None of which, that Boss could recall hearing about, would explain why Sev seemed so fidgety to rendezvous with them.
“You are, no doubt,” he said into the link, “aware of the Sep ship coming to intercept you? And that we have no means of fighting them back?”
“We were told.” Niner replied. “Do you have anything planned?”
“Get there, get you, get out. Preferably in one piece.”
“Understandable. But that other ship is going to be a problem. You won’t be able to just blast an opening in this can without risking the lives of the prisoners.”
“And cutting our way through would run the risk of all of our lives.”
Niner laced his hands before his helmet and Boss could imagine he looked grim beneath it. “Our mission was to get these prisoners alive. Your mission is to help keep them alive. We both know the course we have to take.”
They did and they knew they all knew it, but it was still good to know mission accomplishment was the undisputed priority. “Copy that, Omega. We’ll see if we can’t squeeze some more thrust out of this crate. Delta out.”
After closing down the comm-link, Boss turned to Sev. “You seem eager.”
“Omega Squad.” He supplied. “They have Atin.”
RC-3222, Boss was aware of that. It was no secret among the commandos- especially those that had trained under Sergeant Vau. After Geonosis he was reassigned under Sergeant Skirata due to- the realization of it hit Boss and he shot Sev a look.
“Don’t. Don’t even think it, Sev.”
He tried to give his most placating look, but Sev was anything but placating. “I won’t do anything nasty, Boss. Don’t worry.”
“Like I can trust that face.” He left Sev with a warning look before heading toward the back. “No trouble, Sev. Remember that.” He went to where Fixer and Scorch were setting up for the rescue operation. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to move this thing any faster?”
“I’m afraid not, Three-Eight.” Fixer said, checking that the insulation tube was undamaged. “No chance of getting weapons on-line, either.”
Scorch, who was setting up a frame only slightly smaller than the mouth of the tube, asked, “Remind me again. Why don’t we have the weapons on-line?”
“We had to get this crate moving fast, so I got it moving fast.” Fixer grunted out, obviously annoyed at how this ‘rescue operation’ was going himself. “Slicing the security encryption would’ve taken time we didn’t have. Manually rerouting navigational control by splicing the wires took out a majority of the other controls, but at the time the only thing truly essential was the ability to move.”
“Man, since when did the weapon control panel become unessential?”
He shot Scorch a glare. “Would you like me to try and get it back on-line, Six-Two? Of course, that would mean cutting the power to the navigation system and leave us hurtling around unchecked.”
“Rhetorical question, Mr. Grumpy.”
“Now, now, ner vode.” Boss interjected. “How can we be smug about saving Omega if they see the two of you bickering like that? We’ll just have to hope we get there with enough time to not get blown up as planned.”
“Boss,” Scorch said with all honesty, “I always did like your plans.”
~*~*~*~
RAS Fearless hangar deck
They only extended the briefest of courtesies to the Jedi general and ship’s commander before Delta Squad moved away. They knew about General Tur-Mukan and her history with Omega Squad and Delta didn’t answer to her or Commander Gett.
As Boss moved off, the rest of Delta followed him, just as they always did until they he’d nod them off. But this time, making their wasy to the other end of the hangar, it was obvious their leader wanted to talk. And it didn’t take much to imagine what the talk could be about.
Once they reached the far bulkhead, Boss spun around, accusatory glare obvious through his helmet. “I told you to lay off, didn’t I, Oh-Seven?”
Sev turn his head away stubbornly. “I wasn’t being cruel.”
“You were trying to provoke him.”
“He needed to be reminded about discretion.”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
Sev turned to look at Boss fully, all dark edges. “He swore to kill Sergeant Vau. Our sergeant. How does it not have anything to do with us?”
“Atin made his decision.” Fixer said lowly. “He was given a choice and he chose to fight Sergeant Vau. He knew as well as any of us that the sergeant doesn’t go easy on anyone.”
“The sergeant is still a capable man.” Boss continued. “If he needs us, he’ll let us know. Until then, it doesn’t concern us and we’re to leave it alone. That means you will not attempt to provoke Atin again. And if you can’t be civil with him, don’t even speak to him. Understood?”
There was a heartbeat of a pause, but Sev broke eye contact first. No one in the squad could out-stubborn Boss. “Understood.”
“You know,” Scorch said at last, “I’m not disagreeing with any of you guys, but Atin was one of Sergeant Vau’s. Sergeant Skirata was the one that took him, he’s not the one that requested it.” Of the four of them, Scorch hated it when any of them argued the most. “And I’m not saying that Atin won’t go through with his promise to try and kill the sergeant, but he’s what made Atin what he is, right? If it weren’t for Vau, Atin would be dead- or dar’manda.”
Scorch looked down and the other three waited until he gathered his thoughts. “He’s our sergeant, even if he’s not actually a sergeant anymore. You hear all these stories about how all of Sergeant Skirata’s squads love him and that he treats them like sons and Sergeant Vau’s nothing like that. But he still cared. That’s why he stayed, isn’t it? He made us into survivors and made us the best squad of commandos we could be. He tried to do that for every squad. Maybe he doesn’t call us ad’ike and gives us treats, but that doesn’t make him a bad person.” Self-consciously, Scorch rubbed the back of his head, suddenly realizing he was rambling. “I don’t know. I guess I just think Atin thinks since he swore he’d kill Vau, he feels like he has to. Sergeant always said no one’s intimidated by empty threats.”
With a smile so brotherly the others could feel it, Boss reached over and rubbed Scorch’s helmet affectionately. “I think you might have it right, Scorch. Sergeant Vau might be a sore subject to Atin, but the man only raised loyal commandos. I doubt he’ll go out of his way to find and kill the sergeant. And if they do end up meeting, we’ll be there. Just in case.”
“It’s just been a long day.” Scorch said, batting at Boss’s hand more out of principle than trying to make him stop. “From that creepy ghost ship earlier and the little run at the supply depot. All work and no rest makes for some uppity commandos, you know.”
“I second that, Boss.” For Fixer to refer to the nicknames meant he was feeling far more relaxed than most would think possible or he was asking for a favor. “I vote we find the ‘freshers, maybe some chow and a place to crash. It probably won’t be long before we’re called out again. Don’t want to pass up the chance to get whole hours of sleep.”
“I’m up for that.” Boss said, before looking at Sev.
He gave a shrug. “No one here wants to smell us at the moment anyway.”
“Since that’s decided, let’s make it happen. Who says democracy never gets anything done?” Delta Squad made their way down the decks, talking and jovial, having forgotten the countless brushes of death that made up their day, having forgotten about Omega and the prisoners, about Atin and Vau and the general and the troopers and everything that wasn’t the four of them.
They were alive now and they might not be tomorrow, so they’d make the best of it that they could.
~*~*~*~
Outside Qibbu’s Hut, entertainment district, Coruscant, 0015 hours
371 days after Geonosis
When Scorch had suggested having their night out early, he hadn’t actually expected Skirata to take the three of them out anywhere. But, lifting into the skylane, Skirata pressed his lips together. “Now that you mention it,” he said in a deceptively light way- that is, if one wasn’t trained to read others, “I’m feeling a bit peckish. What do you say, Ordo? Should we break the boys into the new world with some wholesome grease?”
The ARC trooper smiled in that small, secretive way of his, sharing a joke that no one else was privy to. “I think I might know a place that fits the bill.”
Sev leaned forward, sitting behind Skirata. “Grease?” He seemed about as enthused about this as Scorch.
“Trust me. I don’t let my boys eat junk.” There was a brief pause before he amended. “That didn’t taste good.” And while he wouldn’t normally let his boys eat something that wasn’t good for them, Skirata was a man that believed in moderation and moderation included food of the unhealthily greasy variety.
The Delta boys shifted uneasily. Skirata knew they would follow his orders just as well as any commando squad, but that didn’t mean they trusted him as readily as, say Omega or the Nulls would. They still had a ways to loosen up before the operation went into full swing. He just hoped there was enough time for it. He’d just have to find a way to speed up the process a little.
“There goes the EasyRide.” Ordo remarked off handedly, a small degree of amusement in his voice. In the back, Scorch pressed against the window of the speeder. Sev looked over in feigned disinterest.
“EasyRide?” Scorch asked, craning for a look at something he wouldn’t know how to identify.
“Mass transit system.” Ordo said. “Runs on the rail we just passed over.”
“Not a lot of people in there.”
“Not a lot of people wander around this late at night.”
“Oh.” Scorch sounded a little crestfallen. His attention was drawn to the towering buildings and flashing signs around them, though. Skirata turned in his seat to see what the commando was finding so interesting.
“See anything you want to check out later?”
The two in the back looked at him as if they had no idea what he had just said. “What do you mean?” Scorch asked.
“Technically the lot of you are on leave.” Skirata told them. “And I’m certainly not going to make you guys work the entire time. I’ll make damned sure you have a couple days to wander around and get what you’d like.”
“But we have no credits.”
“You will.” Skirata turned to sit forward again as Ordo pulled them down on the landing platform outside of the Kragget. “Once this mess is dealt with, you’ll each get your share and a few days to waste them in. Until then, if you need anything, just let me know.”
He didn’t have to look to know that the two Delta boys looked a bit confused at the remark. While Skirata used to sneak in little goodies for his boys during training and would take squads out for dinner or a little culture whenever he’d catch one that wasn’t dead tired or prepping for another mission, Vau’s commandos never got that sort of treatment. They were still in the frame of mind that the line between superiors and those they commanded was definite and uncrossable. Skirata hoped he had time to prove to them that, just as there were different ways of training, there were also different ways to care for one’s command.
As they clamored out of the vehicle Skirata couldn’t help asking out loud, “I wonder if that nice waitress from last time is working tonight. Familiar faces always makes food sit better, don’t you think Ord’ika?”
Ordo made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, but he shifted somewhat uneasily. It didn’t quell Delta’s uncertainties any.
The Twi’lek waitress was, in fact, working at the time and the moment she saw Skirata and his boys step in, she immediately hustled them into a booth that was clean, had one of the better views in the place and, most importantly, was in her designated section. “I’m glad you came back.” She said with a brilliant smile. Skirata wouldn’t have been surprised if she used to be immensely popular wherever she happened to have danced before. “And with more of your sons. You’re too kind.”
He was happy to see the Delta boys just as uncertain in their response to a stunning lady’s interest as Ordo had been. It was probably their presence taking some of the attention away from him that let Ordo look more comfortable than he really was. Skirata also noted that, under the waitress’s attention, Scorch and Sev shifted slightly closer together.
When in doubt, trust your brothers, he thought to himself. “Not a busy night?” Skirata can’t help asking. They really need to loosen up.
“Never very busy around this time. But we’re open 24 hours a day, so,” she shrugs, “here I am.”
“In that case, why don’t you sit down with us, take a load off? And don’t mind those two. They’re just shy.” Sev didn’t even snort in vague displeasure, too busy ensuring there was a permanent gap of air between him and the waitress. Which meant Scorch was practically pressed against the wall, the two of them acting like boys making that awkward transition from thinking girls had cooties to finding them attractive. Children grow up so fast.
Ordo, having suddenly found himself sitting across from the Twi’lek and once again under her attention, shifted uncomfortably. “Um, are there menus around?”
A place of this caliber didn’t have menus. Instead, Skirata asked, “Do you have any specials today?”
“For you guys?” She said with a wink. “Everything’s a special.”
Skirata braced his arms over the back of the seat. “These boys will eat just about anything, and I’m not too partial myself, so four different orders of whatever you say is worth it. And three glasses of juice and a caf for me.”
After the waitress had moved off to put in their orders, the three sets of shoulders visibly sagged. Skirata was having more fun with this than he probably should have. “What? Are you not satisfied with our waitress’s service? She works hard, I can tell you that.”
The protests automatically went up. “It’s not that! She’s just… um…”
“A little…”
“It just feels a little strange.”
The poor boys. Delta probably had very little female interaction, even for a commando squad and for Ordo, though he dealt more with females and civilians in his duties, there’s a difference between dealing with them at work and in social settings.
“You’ll get used to it.” Skirata told them. And perhaps they’ll get used to clones. When the waitress came back with their drinks, she slid on the bench with Scorch and Sev again, obviously finding their flustering responses to her flirting both humorous and attractive. It got to the point where Scorch- whose mouth could rival Fi’s –got tongue-tied.
Which was all well and good, because that was around the time their food was ready and the Twi’lek figured it best to let them eat without fear of choking on their meals. Which they apparently didn’t need help in doing because the first thing Sev did when he took his first mouth full of non-military foodstuff was almost choke.
Skirata nearly stood in alarm as Sev put his head to the table, pounding at his thigh and made muffled gurgling noises except that Scorch merely looked at him and said, “Come on, it can’t be that good.” But when he took a forkful, Scorch’s eyes closed and he let out a soft whimper like someone that’s just come home for the first time in years. “Why can’t dry rations taste like this?”
When he tried to go for a second forkful, Sev elbowed him away. “Hey! Get your own!” And when he slid the plate away from Scorch’s range, it ended up right in the middle of Ordo’s.
“Mmm, that is good.”
Despite all of the attempts that Kaminoans made to make the clones as close to organic droids as they could, there were some human characteristics that could never be clipped out of any genome. One such characteristic, Skirata found, was fighting over food. Ordo wasn’t known for indulging in anyone that wasn’t Kal, and even with those he considered ‘friends’ there was an edge to his play. But with food thrown into the equation, he was just as much a boy as Scorch and Sev, trying to swipe bits from each other’s plates while protecting their own. Skirata knew he was capable of playing and being competitive without taking it personally, he’d seen Ordo enjoy simple games with his brothers back on Kamino all those years back. But then, Jango took as much pleasure in meals as any other warrior- he never seemed to fill up and took longer to anger when there was good food before him.
And when the waitress came back over with four different desserts with her, Skirata had to laugh at the way his boys’ eyes lit up. Jango also had a sweet tooth that was obviously inherited in his clones because they didn’t even shift uncomfortably as she cooed at them, just eyeing the cakes like little boys.
“Could we get some for takeout? Enough for- how many do we have –eight, if you could.”
Part for curiosity’s sake, part for entertainment, Skirata pushed his desert to the middle of the table. He almost didn’t get his hand back in time before the clash of utensils raged as the three younger and more determined men wrestled for a piece of it. So, food really is the way to a man’s heart. At least I know how to get these boys to loosen up a little.
Thankfully, this was yet another thing that was going to be billed to Zey. As cheap as the Kragget was, four main meals and desserts really built up, not to mention the things they were taking back with them. Skirata didn’t know if the two Jedi were going to be awake when they returned, but he highly doubted any of the commandos would be. While a full night’s sleep was practically a vacation in it’s own right, they’d be far too used to staying up for days with only a handful of catnaps keeping them going. That is, catnaps, stims and strong caf.
Don’t start on that. Not right now. He thought to himself. There’s plenty of other things to worry about right now, thinking about how things will be after the war before the end is even in sight is only going to jumble everything up.
The food came in fairly short order, even for a nearly empty restaurant and Skirata left he waitress another large tip. Even if she didn’t realize it, she was giving his boys a taste of civilian life, a life that they were denied from the moment the very idea of them was conceived. And even if Qibbu could pay back the money he owed in full, Skirata didn’t think it would be enough to repay how grateful he was to the woman for that small act of kindness.
~*~*~*~
Operational House, Qibbu’s Hut, 1250 hours,
380 days after Geonosis
They’d already gone over the information before, but with the lack of new intel coming in and in light of information that had come afterward, Boss and Dar were combing through the crime scene reports of all the bombings that’s been going on. They didn’t expect to find anything new, but it kept them busy. And being kept busy meant Boss wasn’t trolling around the safe house, itching for something to happen.
Skirata told them it was going to get boring for a while and, while nine days was longer than Boss had expected, if things got really interesting around here, it could be potentially very dangerous.
“Hey, Boss?” Scorch’s voice came over his earpiece. “We may have a very slight, easily overlooked, really-not-that-important problem.”
Boss’s gaze flickered to Darman, who looked up from his data pad at him. Very carefully, Boss put down his data pad and asked in a slow, distinct manner, “Scorch. What did you do this time?”
“This one isn’t my fault.”
The muscles in Boss’s jaw tensed visibly. “What is Sev doing?” They were supposed to be relieving Sev and Fi in a little over two hours. All they had to do was sit there and watch people go by. Boss couldn’t imagine how they could mess that up, but Sev could be creative when he got bored and he’s heard stories about Fi.
In the background there was the tail end of a low rumble and Boss realized it was the Wookiee, Enacca. Before he could prompt again, Scorch cleared his throat. “You see, Boss.” He said, trying to draw it out in a way that tried to make bad things seem better than they were. And ended up just making Boss more frustrated with the entire situation. “Niner and I were canvasing the area around the bar, making sure no one of suspicious nature was around when Enacca- the Wookiee driver, if you recall –came up to us with a message from Bardan. Normally a very nice guy.”
“Scorch. The point.”
“The point is, Red was doing their watch, as they were supposed to do, and ended up finding something interesting. So they took note of it- I have all the information, identification of the vehicles, the cargo the scanner picked up, visuals on the people in question,” before Boss could ask why Scorch had that information, he continued with, “and then Sev decided to make a command decision and they are now trailing one of the suspicious people.”
Boss let out a burst of explicatives so suddenly Darman winced, almost fumbling his datapad. Scorch hissed painfully. “Yeah, I was afraid you’d say that.”
Taking in a slow, furious breath, Boss pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. “Where are they now?”
“Level 4 retail plaza. Jusik’s following them in the cab- and before you say anything, he waited for us to take his place watching the warehouse before he went off.”
“At least someone had some sense. Have you called this in to Kal, yet?”
There was a slight pause. “I don’t know, Boss. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I don’t know, is abandoning your post on an observation mission to trail someone without authorization a good idea?”
“This is one of those trick questions you like throwing out, isn’t-”
“Scorch.”
“Shutting up.”
Boss sat heavily on the couch, clearly trying to think of a way to rectify the situation that would bring the least amount of trouble on all of them. “I knew it was a bad idea pairing the two of them together.”
Suddenly Niner’s voice came over the frequency. “I hope you’re not bringing into question Fi’s ability to improvise.” He said in the tone of voice the rest of Omega had come to dub the ‘you-should-think-about-re-wording-your-statement’.
It was most likely due to the frustration, but Boss bit. “I’m bringing into question his ability to keep Sev in line. Fixer or I should have gone with him instead.”
“The point behind the assigning was so we can learn to operate outside of our squads.”
“The point is we shouldn’t have to.”
The line went disturbingly quiet and Darman turned his face away so Boss couldn’t see how pale it suddenly went. “Hey, now!” Scorch said quickly. “I think you’re overreacting a little, Boss. I mean- yeah, Sev isn’t an easy guy to deal with. Maybe Kal didn’t know that, honest mistake.”
Niner didn’t seem convinced. “And how is handling Sev so much harder than handling the rest of us?”
“Trust me. It is. Unless you’ve done something to impress him, or earn his respect, there’s no guarantee even rank will make him give a shabla about what you’ve got to say. Half the time he won’t even listen when I tell him he’s about to do something crazy because he’ll just point out some of the dumb things I’ve pulled.”
“Alright, Scorch.” Boss interjected. “You keep in touch with either Jusik or Red Watch. If anything comes up, let me know immedeatly, got that?”
“I got that, Boss.” Scorch said. “What do you plan on doing?” Because he knew well enough that whenever something was going on that Boss couldn’t control, he had to be doing something.
“There’s nothing for it but telling Sergeant Skirata. Best sooner than later, I figure.” Boss checked the chrono “He’s meeting with Obrim right now, but I’ll get him a soon as I can. And Scorch, if you happen to get in contact with them, make sure Sev knows that if Sergeant Skirata doesn’t kill him, his shebs is mine.”
“Right.” Scorch said slowly, making as if he were jotting notes down on something. “Tell Sev Boss said hi, got it.” He laughed into the communicator. “Don’t worry about it, Leader Man. Two commandos and a Jedi- nothing’s going to happen to them.”
Boss just cut off the connection, unwilling to voice that if it were that easy, none of them would be here right now.
~*~*~*~
Bar, Qibbu’s Hut, 0040 hours,
381 days after Geonosis
Ever since the operation began, more and more troopers were drawn to Qibbu’s Hut, enough so that ten days after they’ve procured the upper level, both squads and Ordo could be down in the bar at the same time and not look out of place.
Boss, Scorch and Jusik were down there now, nursing cafs and sharing a bowl of some unknown snack between them. The bar was only half full and there was only need for two to watch down here, but all parties involved decided it would be best for Delta and Omega to get a little time away from each other. And Jusik sat with them to ensure they were placated without feeling as if they’re presence was suddenly a liability.
They hadn’t done anything wrong, Jusik thought. Delta was just too used to being told where to go and doing their job. Their impatience with the operation was tangible, even in the apathetic atmosphere of the bar. He didn’t know them well enough to know which words would seem like an honest attempt to calm them and not sound like a general attempting a false heart-to-heart with his men.
But it seemed he would be saved from that situation as he spied a familiar figure coming in through the door. Standing, Jusik smiled widely. “You’re here early. Business trip wrapped up sooner than expected?” He asked.
In an instant, Boss and Scorch were on their feet, moving to take the two bags from Vau’s hands. “Sit, sit.” He told them, setting the luggage down and waving his hands. They didn’t sit, but they stood back.
“It’s good to see you again,” the beginning of ‘sarge’ almost slipped off of Boss’s lips, “Walon.”
Vau’s presence was barely a glimmer in the Force- so detached from any strong emotions, the only way Jusik could sense him was the fact that he was alive –but his eyes crinkled in a mild form of amusement. “It’s good to see you, too. The rest of the boys upstairs?”
“Yeah.” Scorched seemed even more reluctant to refer to his former sergeant by his first name. “They’re being wowed by the view on the landing pad.”
“Good.” Vau eyed the table and waved his hand again. “Sit.” He told them, taking a spot for himself. The strill wrapped itself around his feet, the scent of it ensuring the group had a wide buffer around them. “I’ve heard about some of the work you’ve been doing.” He told Boss and Scorch. “I knew you boys would do right.”
As far as compliments they’ve been given since Jusik has known them, that was probably the least actual complimentary. But, while Skirata’s praise made them swell with pride, the two of them were practically beacons of joy in the Force; Jusik had heard Vau was a tough instructor and rarely gave out praise, but he didn’t expect such simple words to have such a profound affect.
“We do the best we can.” Boss said, unable to keep the pride from his voice.
“I know you do. Poor boys.” The commandos seemed as confused as Jusik at this turn of phrase, waiting for Vau to elaborate. “You must feel out of your depths, here. Nothing like you’ve been through before, is it?”
It took Jusik a moment, but he figured out Vau was referring to their current situation with the terrorists. Boss and Scorch seemed to have picked this up quicker.
“It’s different.” Scorch admitted. “We’re still trying to get the hang of it.”
“You always were my more impatient boys. But then, Jango was also short on patience and temper.” Vau told them almost fondly. “But this isn’t the kind of situation where you can just do what you think should be done. You weren’t taught how to deal with these sorts of missions- a lack of foresight on many people’s parts. But every situation is different. You have to learn how to feel these out. That’s why you need to have a veteran among you to direct what should be done. While Sev and Fi’s impromptu trailing led to a breakthrough, they put the entire operation at risk. They lucked out this time, but the next time they do something without authorization, they could force the terrorists’ hand and cause us grief that could’ve been avoided.”
Boss nodded. “Understood. Kal had already addressed the situation with them. It won’t happen again.”
“Good. You boys have done me proud for so long, I’d hate your flawless record to be marred because one of you got too antsy.”
Though it was said mildly, the two commandos’ heads dropped slightly. Jusik didn’t like the idea of Vau manipulating them through their feelings for his approval, even if it was for the best. But it wasn’t his place to say anything and kept quiet.
“Don’t worry.” Vau amended. “Once things get rolling, you’ll be as busy as ever and doing what it is you do best.”
Straightening out again, Boss explained, “It’s not that we don’t like what we’re doing. We are learning some interesting things about the whole process.”
“Except for when you get into a fight with Omega, I see.”
The two stiffened. “How did you know?”
Vau smiled thinly. “I wasn’t told, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just know my boys have a hard time playing nicely with others. You four especially. I also know that Kal’s boys aren’t all that much better. It’s one thing to get two squads to work together, it’s another thing entirely to force them into close proximity for a long period of time before they learn each other’s limits. You have your way of doing things, they have theirs. These long days of not doing anything is most likely wearing on them as much as you. Is it any surprise that you’d be having altercations?”
“It’s not that we don’t like meeting people.” Scorch said with a half-forced lightness. “You were the one that taught us, ‘go out, meet interesting people, then kill them’. It’s the not getting to do the last part that makes us a bit edgy.”
“Udesii, boys. You’ll get your chance in the end.” Vau stood, grabbing his two bags. The strill circled around him. Jusik noted that Boss and Scorch eyed it with a certain measure of wariness, though it didn’t do more than gap at them with rows of jagged teeth. “Upper level, correct? I think I’ll join the rest of the party.”
The three men stood, the Deltas moving around the strill, trying to get the bags. “No, thank you.” Vau said, moving out of reach. “I’m still able to carry my own things.” He looked over at Jusik. “I know I’m earlier than expected, but don’t let them know I’m coming. I’d like to see how they react to an uninvited visitor.”
Boss and Scorch rocked for a moment, as if they weren’t certain what to do. “Ah, all right.” They stood back, watching as their former sergeant and his pet headed toward the lift.
Jusik sighed and said, honestly, “That was certainly an experience. I’ve never met a man like him before.”
“Not everyone can be seen for who they are in first impressions.” Boss said seriously. “Some not after several impressions. He may seem like a hard and cruel man, but he never put us through anything he didn’t expect us to survive.”
Jusik didn’t want to ask if that’s something Vau had told them, or if it was something they had gleaned from their years spent training under him. Either way, it was evidently something they believed whole heartedly, and Jusik didn’t want to offend them anymore than he inadvertently already had.
“I apologize, I didn’t mean it like that.” He explained. “I meant that the impression he leaves on the Force. I’ve never met anyone that had the same sensation as him. Even the masters I’ve met didn’t have the same kind of distance as him.”
Boss fell silent and Scorch snickered. “Oh. Then I apologize for jumping to conclusions.”
He smiled broadly, patting Boss’s arm. “In my short time fighting in this war, the judgement of my troopers had both proven to be very valuable and have saved my life a number of times. If you say Walon is a man that can be trusted, then I believe he is.”
But with both sergeants here, Jusik hoped it would help keep the squad placated. But then, given their history with each other, he hoped they wouldn’t end up killing each other instead.
~*~*~*~
Operational House, Qibbu’s Hut, 1120 hours,
382 days after Geonosis
Etain didn’t really know how to deal with Delta Squad. Each clone trooper had a slight emphasis on a specific character trait the helped differentiate him from the rest of his brothers and caused them to fall into niches. Commandos, though, had different and fully developed personalities. She’d grown used to Omega’s quirks on Qiilura- awkward boys transitioning into men, still trying to get a feel for each other. Delta, though, was so integrated with each other the squad as a whole seemed like a living beast. She had to wonder if other wholly intact squads felt like that.
And, she had noticed, while Omega took to the world outside the military like curious children, Delta looked at it either as a strange field of battle or with distrust. In fact, they treated most anyone that wasn’t a Delta with a certain measure of distance.
She watched as Fixer tore apart the holoprojector that he kept in his pack, taking the same sort of joy in dismantling and reassembling things Atin did. The sure, almost off-handed way Fixer’s tools fit seamlessly in the object made Etain wonder how often he did this.
He was aware of her, she knew, and knew that he knew she knew. But he kept pulling pieces apart, watching her like a second thought. Survival instinct, if Etain had to guess.
Her curiosity getting the best of her, she asked, “Do you prefer Fixer or Four-Oh?”
“Four-Oh.” He said automatically. Though there was no hiccup to his actions, Etain could feel a part of him closing off to her. Darman once told her that most commandos consider their nicknames to be an exclusive right only to those they considered close. Such as their squad mates or someone that earned that right. Fixer, who seemed more and more reclusive as the days went by, must hold staunchly to that idea despite his brothers doing the opposite.
“Not the sort of missions you’re used to dealing with?”
“Even if it’s something we weren’t formally trained for, we were taught to be prepared and flexible.”
“Even for this?” Etain asked. “I know Delta’s used to the ‘in-and-out’ missions, moving from one to another. Here, you not only have days of nothing, but you also have to deal with someone telling you every action you have to take. It probably hasn’t been easy on you, if you’re used to more freedom in your process.”
The lens of the projector flashed in Fixer’s hands as he polished it with a soft cloth. He was quiet, but unease rolled off him like a trickle out of a straining dam. The other members of Delta found a way to release their frustrations, but Fixer kept his misgivings inside. He didn’t confine in his brothers for either fear of seeming weak or unnecessarily burdening them. Nor did he confine in anyone else because they weren’t Deltas. Etain knew the others realized it was pent up, but Fixer’s squad didn’t try to press him for something he wasn’t ready to say and it was less likely he would talk to someone outside of them.
It was some sort of macho thing, Etain decided. And, as someone not born with a macho gene, she knew she’d be the only one that could weasel the information out of him.
“It’s… different.” Fixer finally conceded. He cleaned each piece of the holoprojector in his hands before he began to assemble it again. “But every mission is different. The key to surviving is learning how to adapt before you’re killed.”
Etain nodded. It sounded very much like something Vau would say. “I didn’t know you could build a holoprojector.”
“Sergeant Vau was very strict on us knowing the ins and outs of tech. Since we depend so much on our armor and HUD, we should know how to care for it and repair it.” He bundled the wiring up, strands spread out like colored grass in the wind. “We can all do basic repairs, but I picked up the most. I can fix just about any problem that doesn’t require replacing parts on the field.” Which is how I got my name was left unsaid.
“That’s amazing.” Etain told him, feeling a slight rush of warmth coming off Fixer at the compliment.
“Sergeant Vau made sure we were prepared for any scenario.” He said with no false modesty. “He didn’t try to be a father figure like Sergeant Skirata, but he care in his own way.”
“You really look up to Vau, don’t you?”
“He… gave us out lives. The Kaminoans cultivated us and the Republic gave us a job, but Sergeant Vau gave us our intelligence, our purpose; he gave us the ability to do everything we’re told and to survive whatever might happen.” Fixer had stopped working and just tumbled a half-constructed tube between his fingers. “Survival was what he pressed most on us. Survival by any means. To not survive was giving up. On our brothers, our heritage, our teachings- to lose any of those, we might as well be dead.”
Etain’s eyes darkened, seeing another source of Atin’s raw pain come to light.
“Sergeant Vau taught us in a way so when the time came, all we’d need is our brothers and our intelligence. He made it so once we left for battle we wouldn’t need him anymore.”
At this information, she sat back in surprise. Skirata needed his boys and, in return, was needed by them. She could feel the fierce love held by them like a lifeline. If anything happened to Skirata, she wondered how many of his commandos would fall apart. But Vau’s men would move on just as efficiently should Vau die. That’s how they were taught. And, though the bonds of respect between Delta and their former sergeant was still strong, he didn’t anchor them.
She wondered, in this time of war when so little people were truly safe, which course of action was the wiser.
“But,” Fixer said, then hesitated. On some level, he knew he needed to get his uncertainties out, but lacked someone offering their services as a soundboard. Etain made an encouraging noise, afraid her saying something would disturb his vulnerable mood.
“Omega doesn’t seem to depend on each other so much. They’re…” trying to prompt his train of thought, Fixer’s hands reached for the pieces of tech again. “They look to others for… not help but… but something.” Not being able to think up the proper word frustrated him. “Even if it’s Sergeant Skirata and Ordo, what could they do that their brothers can’t? What sort of support could a stranger give them that they would seek them out?” He abruptly cut himself off. “I apologize, ma’am. I was speaking out of turn.”
Ah, so that’s it. Delta was brought up to rely on each other. They didn’t have the same fascination with families or lovers as Omega did because they didn’t see a point to it. And, if Fixer couldn’t understand Omega being attached to Skirata or Ordo, it must really boggle the mind to figure out how she fit into it all.
Etain hummed for a moment. “I don’t think I can give you the exact answer, but maybe something my master ones told me might be helpful.” This was, of course, a lie. But she figured Fixer would appreciate the passing of teaching more than advice. “Each person’s frame of existence is like a world. At the center of that world is you, beyond that world is everyone else. You know they’re there, you’re aware they exist, but to you, they can’t touch you. They have nothing to do with you.” Etain laced her hands, appearing to think. She noted that Fixer had stopped messing with the holoprojector and was giving her his full attention. “I suppose for you, your world would be you and the rest of Delta Squad. Everyone else, Omega, Skirata, even Vau would be considered ‘outsiders’. You think that everything you need and everything that matters to you is in this world with you. And I suppose all the commando teams do, too. It’s not a bad way to live, I think. You know who you can trust and who you can depend on. There’s no complications and you know each of your limitations.
“Omega was probably like that, too, I’ll bet. Back when they were in their original pods. But then they lost their brothers and were forced to rebuild that world with new brothers. It’s probably that experience- realizing they’re still vulnerable and having to rely on new people that lets them open up to others. My world was small, too, when I was with Master Fulier. But when Omega came, I had to open to them in order to survive. I learned a lot from them, a lot about myself, too. And I suppose so did they. They don’t look at everything as either ‘them’ or ‘outsiders’. They’re still wary, yes, but maybe a bit more open. New people can lead to interesting experience and a lot of people think what they can learn from others is worth the dangers of the unknown.” Etain leaned forward a little. “Does that make any sense?”
For a moment Fixer was silent, then he turned back to his reconstruction task. “A little.” She didn’t need the Force to tell her he was dwelling on her words. Fixer spent most of his time quietly observing and Etain wouldn’t have been surprised if he was slowly coming to the same conclusion himself. “Would it be possible for your world to get so full you force others out?”
“I won’t lie- sometimes all it takes is one more person, sometimes just time is enough and you’ll suddenly find yourself leaving behind people you never would’ve thought you could. But,” she said with a smile, “there are some people you’d never be able to get rid of, even if you wanted to. If you ask me, those are the ones you would call ‘family’.”
“Family, huh?” With a practice twist, Fixer clasped the delicate machinery in its protective casing, shining an old holorecording to ensure it was working properly. “Family is what you make of it, they say.”
“Family is forever.”
The door to the safe house opened and Scorch, followed by Fi and Atin came in, laughing about something. “Hey, Fixer!” He called out, holding up something the smelled more appealing than the stuff they usually ate at the bar. “Sergeant Skirata brought back some pie for us to try out! Saved you some of the lemon one if you want it.”
“I’ll be there in a bit.” Fixer called out. When he turned back to Etain, he looked a little uncertain. “Um-”
“Next time I have a problem with a piece of tech,” she said easily, “I’ll be sure to look for you.”
Fixer’s smile, like the rest of him, was reserved but honest. “Thank you, ma’am.” Pocketing the holoprojector in his red fatigues, Fixer joined the rest of his brethren as they joked over something that happened in the bar not long ago. And though he gave Scorch a pat on the shoulder, Etain noted that Fixer sat between Fi and Atin.
Sensing the last of the tension gradually easing out of him, Etain figured she earned herself a small slice of that pie and a quick nap.
~*~*~*~
Operational House, Qibbu’s Hut, 0155 hours,
385 days after Geonosis
The only bad thing about being with the same people in such close proximity for such a long time is that you notice every little thing about them, learn to read every nuance, even if you don’t intend to. The problem is those people also know how to do that to you. So, even though Sev tried his best to look as if nothing were wrong, it took Scorch all of ten seconds to know something was.
He sat up from where he was once reclining on a bed. “What happened?”
Sev’s eyes flickered to him for a moment, carefully hiding a curse. “Nothing happened. Same boring routine.”
“But you’re hurt.”
“No, I’m not.”
Scorch frowned in the way he rarely ever did. “No. You’re hurt. What happened?”
“It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”
The frown only grew deeper and when Scorch stood up Sev knew exactly what he was going to do and moved to block the door. “You’re not getting them.”
“Then tell me what’s wrong.” When Sev hesitated, Scorch’s voice dropped low. “Will it keep you from completing the mission.”
“No.”
But the clench of Sev’s jaw put a hidden line to those words that Scorch saw all too well. He moved passed the sniper. “I’m getting them.”
By the time the three of them came into the room, Sev apparently resigned himself to the upcoming conversation. He sat on his bed, the left sleeve of his bodysuit pulled down. His shoulder was covered in painful looking splotches and had swollen. Fixer hissed and moved in to examine it.
Boss went, as his nickname suggested, into full boss-mode. “What happened, Seven?”
“Amateur’s mistake.” Sev replied, flinching slightly as Fixer probed his shoulder. “I let myself get provoked, did something stupid and got hurt.”
“Dislocation.” Fixer supplied. “Doesn’t seem to be lasting damage- no pinched nerves or twisted muscle.”
Scorch shook his head, circling around his brother to get a look at the full extent of the damage. “Omega’s a bad influence on you, aren’t they?”
“Scorch.” Boss said warily.
“Think about it. He tries picking fights with their guys, plays uber-hero on a simple observation mission and gets goaded into doing stupid stunts.” Scorch leaned on Sev’s right shoulder. “Psycho Man, are you trying to impress someone?”
Sev growled. “It won’t happen again, so get off my case.”
“The fact that it happened at all is the problem.”
The room went hush at Boss’s sharp voice. “What would have happened if it were a serious injury? If you couldn’t complete this mission? If your little stunt got unwanted attention? Delta has never failed a mission because it comes before all else. And to complete a mission, each of us has to be careful in what we do. When we do take risks, they’re calculated. At least the dangerous stunts you do on missions is aimed for mission accomplishment. What was this for? To prove that you’re a hard-ass?” His accent got thicker the angrier he got. “We’re not in the front, but this is still a life or death mission. Treat it like one.”
“Understood.”
For a moment, Boss felt guilty for what he’d said. The look on Sev’s face clearly said he took this lapse of judgement seriously, that he looked on it as a failure. But it had to be said and he had to be the one to say it.
Mouth dry, he let out a low, “Good” before turning to leave.
“Are you going to tell Sergeant Vau?”
Boss whipped his head around. Fixer had his arms crossed, shoulders hunched and head low, looking at Boss with an uncertainty he’d never seen in his brother before. The air in the room changed completely, almost like a pane of glass balanced precariously on its edge. Scorch stood just behind Sev, his hand clamped tight on the latter’s uninjured shoulder.
For the first time, the three of them looked at Boss- the man they viewed as their leader –almost as if… almost as if he wasn’t someone they could wholly trust, almost as if he weren’t a Delta.
It hurt more than anything else he’d felt. “I- no. I’d never.” It was said with such vehemence- a little betrayed that they would even consider that as something he’d do –that three sets of shoulders sagged. “You learned your lesson, didn’t you?”
Sev let out a shuddering breath and Scorch patted his shoulder reassuringly. Boss didn’t think he’d ever seen Sev so relieved in his life. “Yes. I did. It won’t happen again.”
He nodded. “Make sure it doesn’t. At least not when we’re not there to stop you.” Boss tilted his head back, considering. “You know what this means now, don’t you? If Fixer tells you whatever crack-pot idea you have going on is too dangerous you’ll have to listen to him.”
“Fierfek. For how long?”
“Until I think you’ve completely grasped the lesson.”
From the wall, Fixer almost snickered and Sev made a face. “I learned my lesson. Absolutely and completely. Don’t do this to me, Boss.”
“At least he’s not making you room together.” Scorch chirped brightly, giving Sev a noogie. The sniper lashed back with an elbow that caught him in the gut. Except it was with his left so when Scorch let out a coughing grunt, Sev clutched at his shoulder with a hiss.
“I’m not convinced.” Boss said with a hum. “And since the two of you are still rooming together, Scorch gets to play your nursemaid.”
“What?”
“Hey, nurse. I need some ice.”
“Aw, Boss. That’s not fair.”
“Well, Fixer? Shall we turn in for the night?”
It wasn’t often Fixer loosened up to his brothers’ bantering, but he was smiling broadly now. “After you, Three-Eight.”
Before the door closed behind the two, they heard Scorch’s wail of, “Boss!” and Sev’s obviously amused, “Less mouth, more ice.”
~*~*~*~
RAS Vengeance, leaving Coruscant, 0510 hours,
395 days after Geonosis
“Uf. I think this is why we never drink.”
“Shhh.” Fixer said, rubbing at his forehead even though his helmet was on.
But Scorch kept rambling painfully. “My head feels like it’s going to explode. I don’t know how those CSF officers can drink so much. Or even like drinking that much. Ow. Owowow.”
Fixer was now cradling his head as Delta Squad sat in the most out-of-the-way and, above all, quietest corner of the ship’s cargo bay they could find. At least if the troopers got too loud they could cut off the audio filter, but radio silence from their own squad members made them uncomfortable when it wasn’t needed.
They hadn’t intended anything more than a quiet night resting in the barracks before they had to ship off for their next mission. Except that Skirata had approached them that night and said he was actually asked by their former sergeant to buy each of them a drink. Vau had never given any of his squads- even Delta –anything more than a few words of pride and this sudden charity wasn’t lost on Skirata, either. Especially when, given the specified drinks, he had told Delta Squad that if they didn’t finish it, he wouldn’t tell Vau.
It was a terrible drink. It burned unpleasantly and tasted worse and prodded at their brains with hot pokers, but if there was one thing Delta Squad was known for, it was sheer determination. They forced down each mouthful to the amazement of everyone at the bar. And after they had finished- to applause, they were shocked to note –other people wanted to buy them drinks. And, because they were never taught to say no to an act of honest kindness, they accept each one until Skirata hussled the unsteady boys back to base.
“If I throw up again, someone kill me.”
“You don’t shut up,” Sev couldn’t bring himself to swat even half-heartedly at Scorch, “I’ll just kill you now and save everyone the trouble.”
Boss- who didn’t drink nearly as much as the rest of his squad mates and therefore felt slightly more alive –leaned his head against the bulkhead. “Like Sergeant Vau always said. It’s a lesson learned.”
“Never trust a civvie.”
He gave a weak chuckle. “I suppose that works for now.”
“You know,” Scorch said, trying to slouch comfortably in the corner, “if we ever get some R&R again, I hope it’ll be as interesting as the last one. Just… maybe not so much of the drinking at the end.”
“If we keep it together long enough, we very well just might.”
Fixer’s chin bobbed against his chest. “I don’t know if I can take more of that kind of excitement. Wake me when the war’s over.” His only reply was a soft chuckle before the four, lulled by the muted roar of the engines as the ship fought its way out of Coruscant’s atmosphere, dozed off utterly confident in the comfort of each other.
Title: Triple Zero: D-Side
Fandom: Star Wars: Republic Commando
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 9862
Characters: Delta Squad, Omega Squad, Skirata, Vau, Jusik, Etain, Ordo
Summary: Scenes from the book in key of Delta.
367 days after Geonosis
“Advisor, this is Delta-1138, reporting in. The supply depot has been blown and we’ve procured a Sep ship for transportation.”
“Copy that, Delta lead. We have a priority communication coming in, hold for a moment.” The advisor replied, his small blue form flickering in the light of the holoprojector. He looked at something out of the projector’s range, a low, inaudible voice filtering over the hum of the stolen vessel. Scorch was in the back, complaining to Fixer how the wires kept getting in his way.
“C’mon! It’s your namesake! Can’t you fix this up?”
“You could make yourself useful and clean it up yourself.” Fixer replied. He was still splicing wires from the transmitter together so that when they came upon a GAR ship they wouldn’t get blown apart.
“Delta Squad, we’ve just received word of a Red Zero close to your sector. Four commandos and three prisoners.”
Boss cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Sev was in the co-pilot’s chair, Fixer lay under a control panel, but had stopped his work to listen on the conversation. Scorch gave the place a once over and gave Boss thumbs up. “I think we got some room to spare, Advisor. Who are the poor di’kute we need to rescue?”
“Omega Squad. As of right now, it’s estimated that they have about two and a half hours of air left. The closest ship, asides from yours, is approximately two hours away.” When the advisor faced Boss head on, he could feel the intense gaze boring into his through the helmet and holoprojector. “It is imperative that we get these prisoners. They may be the link to those terrorists that’s been blowing up our brothers.”
The air in the ship changed completely. It was hush and cold and intent. “Don’t worry, Advisor.” Boss said. “We’ll make sure we get there in time.” From the corner of his helmet he saw Sev give a thumbs up. The coordinates were downloaded and programmed into the nav computer. “Delta out.” Flicking off the projector, he swiveled in the pilot’s chair. “Forty, do you think you can get this crate moving any faster?”
“Let me finish modifying the transponder, just in case Omega’s feeling a little trigger happy. But I should be able to reroute all unessential power to the engines.”
“Good. Scorch, help him out.” Swinging back to the view screen, Boss laced his hands together. “And now we get to play the ever so enjoyable waiting game.”
“Omega, huh?”
His gaze slid over the Sev- the first words he’d spoken in a while. “Something interesting, Seven?”
The sniper’s eyes glittered darkly and there was tension in his jaw which meant something unpleasant was going to happen to someone in the near future. “Nothing to worry about.”
~*~*~*~
Stolen Separatist shuttle, Neimoidian class, time to target: twenty minutes
Despite traveling full speed for near a solid two hours, Delta lucked out in not drawing any Separatist attention, except for the one that seemed to have its sights on their goal.
Sev’s hand flicked over the console in front of him. “We’re within transmission range with Omega, Boss.”
“Good.” The problem with hijacking a vehicle that was already thrashed is not everything worked right. Especially when one was pressed to do a hash job of hijacking. “Omega, this is Delta Squad. Asides from the aimless sight-seeing, what’s your status?”
A groan came over the comm-link. “They’re starting to gloat already?”
“Knock it off, Fi. Niner receiving. We’re running to about forty minutes of air and one of the prisoners seems determined to get hypothermia. Asides from that, we’re waiting on you.”
“Well, rest assure, Omega. We won’t start the gloating until your shebse are onboard.”
“You really know how to ease a situation, Deltas.” The first voice- Fi –replied.
“Well, Scorch. I think we just found someone for you to talk to.”
“It’s always good to find someone else with a sense of humor, Boss.” The yellow-tagged commando said. “It makes for far more interesting conversations than Sev counting his kills.”
Both squads knew each other in the same way so many others knew them- by reputation. Delta Squad knew exactly what their reputation was- unstoppable, cruel and frighteningly efficient with a record that made eyebrows jump. Omega, though not as wide-spread a name, was noted for some very impressive missions themselves. None of which, that Boss could recall hearing about, would explain why Sev seemed so fidgety to rendezvous with them.
“You are, no doubt,” he said into the link, “aware of the Sep ship coming to intercept you? And that we have no means of fighting them back?”
“We were told.” Niner replied. “Do you have anything planned?”
“Get there, get you, get out. Preferably in one piece.”
“Understandable. But that other ship is going to be a problem. You won’t be able to just blast an opening in this can without risking the lives of the prisoners.”
“And cutting our way through would run the risk of all of our lives.”
Niner laced his hands before his helmet and Boss could imagine he looked grim beneath it. “Our mission was to get these prisoners alive. Your mission is to help keep them alive. We both know the course we have to take.”
They did and they knew they all knew it, but it was still good to know mission accomplishment was the undisputed priority. “Copy that, Omega. We’ll see if we can’t squeeze some more thrust out of this crate. Delta out.”
After closing down the comm-link, Boss turned to Sev. “You seem eager.”
“Omega Squad.” He supplied. “They have Atin.”
RC-3222, Boss was aware of that. It was no secret among the commandos- especially those that had trained under Sergeant Vau. After Geonosis he was reassigned under Sergeant Skirata due to- the realization of it hit Boss and he shot Sev a look.
“Don’t. Don’t even think it, Sev.”
He tried to give his most placating look, but Sev was anything but placating. “I won’t do anything nasty, Boss. Don’t worry.”
“Like I can trust that face.” He left Sev with a warning look before heading toward the back. “No trouble, Sev. Remember that.” He went to where Fixer and Scorch were setting up for the rescue operation. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to move this thing any faster?”
“I’m afraid not, Three-Eight.” Fixer said, checking that the insulation tube was undamaged. “No chance of getting weapons on-line, either.”
Scorch, who was setting up a frame only slightly smaller than the mouth of the tube, asked, “Remind me again. Why don’t we have the weapons on-line?”
“We had to get this crate moving fast, so I got it moving fast.” Fixer grunted out, obviously annoyed at how this ‘rescue operation’ was going himself. “Slicing the security encryption would’ve taken time we didn’t have. Manually rerouting navigational control by splicing the wires took out a majority of the other controls, but at the time the only thing truly essential was the ability to move.”
“Man, since when did the weapon control panel become unessential?”
He shot Scorch a glare. “Would you like me to try and get it back on-line, Six-Two? Of course, that would mean cutting the power to the navigation system and leave us hurtling around unchecked.”
“Rhetorical question, Mr. Grumpy.”
“Now, now, ner vode.” Boss interjected. “How can we be smug about saving Omega if they see the two of you bickering like that? We’ll just have to hope we get there with enough time to not get blown up as planned.”
“Boss,” Scorch said with all honesty, “I always did like your plans.”
~*~*~*~
RAS Fearless hangar deck
They only extended the briefest of courtesies to the Jedi general and ship’s commander before Delta Squad moved away. They knew about General Tur-Mukan and her history with Omega Squad and Delta didn’t answer to her or Commander Gett.
As Boss moved off, the rest of Delta followed him, just as they always did until they he’d nod them off. But this time, making their wasy to the other end of the hangar, it was obvious their leader wanted to talk. And it didn’t take much to imagine what the talk could be about.
Once they reached the far bulkhead, Boss spun around, accusatory glare obvious through his helmet. “I told you to lay off, didn’t I, Oh-Seven?”
Sev turn his head away stubbornly. “I wasn’t being cruel.”
“You were trying to provoke him.”
“He needed to be reminded about discretion.”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
Sev turned to look at Boss fully, all dark edges. “He swore to kill Sergeant Vau. Our sergeant. How does it not have anything to do with us?”
“Atin made his decision.” Fixer said lowly. “He was given a choice and he chose to fight Sergeant Vau. He knew as well as any of us that the sergeant doesn’t go easy on anyone.”
“The sergeant is still a capable man.” Boss continued. “If he needs us, he’ll let us know. Until then, it doesn’t concern us and we’re to leave it alone. That means you will not attempt to provoke Atin again. And if you can’t be civil with him, don’t even speak to him. Understood?”
There was a heartbeat of a pause, but Sev broke eye contact first. No one in the squad could out-stubborn Boss. “Understood.”
“You know,” Scorch said at last, “I’m not disagreeing with any of you guys, but Atin was one of Sergeant Vau’s. Sergeant Skirata was the one that took him, he’s not the one that requested it.” Of the four of them, Scorch hated it when any of them argued the most. “And I’m not saying that Atin won’t go through with his promise to try and kill the sergeant, but he’s what made Atin what he is, right? If it weren’t for Vau, Atin would be dead- or dar’manda.”
Scorch looked down and the other three waited until he gathered his thoughts. “He’s our sergeant, even if he’s not actually a sergeant anymore. You hear all these stories about how all of Sergeant Skirata’s squads love him and that he treats them like sons and Sergeant Vau’s nothing like that. But he still cared. That’s why he stayed, isn’t it? He made us into survivors and made us the best squad of commandos we could be. He tried to do that for every squad. Maybe he doesn’t call us ad’ike and gives us treats, but that doesn’t make him a bad person.” Self-consciously, Scorch rubbed the back of his head, suddenly realizing he was rambling. “I don’t know. I guess I just think Atin thinks since he swore he’d kill Vau, he feels like he has to. Sergeant always said no one’s intimidated by empty threats.”
With a smile so brotherly the others could feel it, Boss reached over and rubbed Scorch’s helmet affectionately. “I think you might have it right, Scorch. Sergeant Vau might be a sore subject to Atin, but the man only raised loyal commandos. I doubt he’ll go out of his way to find and kill the sergeant. And if they do end up meeting, we’ll be there. Just in case.”
“It’s just been a long day.” Scorch said, batting at Boss’s hand more out of principle than trying to make him stop. “From that creepy ghost ship earlier and the little run at the supply depot. All work and no rest makes for some uppity commandos, you know.”
“I second that, Boss.” For Fixer to refer to the nicknames meant he was feeling far more relaxed than most would think possible or he was asking for a favor. “I vote we find the ‘freshers, maybe some chow and a place to crash. It probably won’t be long before we’re called out again. Don’t want to pass up the chance to get whole hours of sleep.”
“I’m up for that.” Boss said, before looking at Sev.
He gave a shrug. “No one here wants to smell us at the moment anyway.”
“Since that’s decided, let’s make it happen. Who says democracy never gets anything done?” Delta Squad made their way down the decks, talking and jovial, having forgotten the countless brushes of death that made up their day, having forgotten about Omega and the prisoners, about Atin and Vau and the general and the troopers and everything that wasn’t the four of them.
They were alive now and they might not be tomorrow, so they’d make the best of it that they could.
~*~*~*~
Outside Qibbu’s Hut, entertainment district, Coruscant, 0015 hours
371 days after Geonosis
When Scorch had suggested having their night out early, he hadn’t actually expected Skirata to take the three of them out anywhere. But, lifting into the skylane, Skirata pressed his lips together. “Now that you mention it,” he said in a deceptively light way- that is, if one wasn’t trained to read others, “I’m feeling a bit peckish. What do you say, Ordo? Should we break the boys into the new world with some wholesome grease?”
The ARC trooper smiled in that small, secretive way of his, sharing a joke that no one else was privy to. “I think I might know a place that fits the bill.”
Sev leaned forward, sitting behind Skirata. “Grease?” He seemed about as enthused about this as Scorch.
“Trust me. I don’t let my boys eat junk.” There was a brief pause before he amended. “That didn’t taste good.” And while he wouldn’t normally let his boys eat something that wasn’t good for them, Skirata was a man that believed in moderation and moderation included food of the unhealthily greasy variety.
The Delta boys shifted uneasily. Skirata knew they would follow his orders just as well as any commando squad, but that didn’t mean they trusted him as readily as, say Omega or the Nulls would. They still had a ways to loosen up before the operation went into full swing. He just hoped there was enough time for it. He’d just have to find a way to speed up the process a little.
“There goes the EasyRide.” Ordo remarked off handedly, a small degree of amusement in his voice. In the back, Scorch pressed against the window of the speeder. Sev looked over in feigned disinterest.
“EasyRide?” Scorch asked, craning for a look at something he wouldn’t know how to identify.
“Mass transit system.” Ordo said. “Runs on the rail we just passed over.”
“Not a lot of people in there.”
“Not a lot of people wander around this late at night.”
“Oh.” Scorch sounded a little crestfallen. His attention was drawn to the towering buildings and flashing signs around them, though. Skirata turned in his seat to see what the commando was finding so interesting.
“See anything you want to check out later?”
The two in the back looked at him as if they had no idea what he had just said. “What do you mean?” Scorch asked.
“Technically the lot of you are on leave.” Skirata told them. “And I’m certainly not going to make you guys work the entire time. I’ll make damned sure you have a couple days to wander around and get what you’d like.”
“But we have no credits.”
“You will.” Skirata turned to sit forward again as Ordo pulled them down on the landing platform outside of the Kragget. “Once this mess is dealt with, you’ll each get your share and a few days to waste them in. Until then, if you need anything, just let me know.”
He didn’t have to look to know that the two Delta boys looked a bit confused at the remark. While Skirata used to sneak in little goodies for his boys during training and would take squads out for dinner or a little culture whenever he’d catch one that wasn’t dead tired or prepping for another mission, Vau’s commandos never got that sort of treatment. They were still in the frame of mind that the line between superiors and those they commanded was definite and uncrossable. Skirata hoped he had time to prove to them that, just as there were different ways of training, there were also different ways to care for one’s command.
As they clamored out of the vehicle Skirata couldn’t help asking out loud, “I wonder if that nice waitress from last time is working tonight. Familiar faces always makes food sit better, don’t you think Ord’ika?”
Ordo made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, but he shifted somewhat uneasily. It didn’t quell Delta’s uncertainties any.
The Twi’lek waitress was, in fact, working at the time and the moment she saw Skirata and his boys step in, she immediately hustled them into a booth that was clean, had one of the better views in the place and, most importantly, was in her designated section. “I’m glad you came back.” She said with a brilliant smile. Skirata wouldn’t have been surprised if she used to be immensely popular wherever she happened to have danced before. “And with more of your sons. You’re too kind.”
He was happy to see the Delta boys just as uncertain in their response to a stunning lady’s interest as Ordo had been. It was probably their presence taking some of the attention away from him that let Ordo look more comfortable than he really was. Skirata also noted that, under the waitress’s attention, Scorch and Sev shifted slightly closer together.
When in doubt, trust your brothers, he thought to himself. “Not a busy night?” Skirata can’t help asking. They really need to loosen up.
“Never very busy around this time. But we’re open 24 hours a day, so,” she shrugs, “here I am.”
“In that case, why don’t you sit down with us, take a load off? And don’t mind those two. They’re just shy.” Sev didn’t even snort in vague displeasure, too busy ensuring there was a permanent gap of air between him and the waitress. Which meant Scorch was practically pressed against the wall, the two of them acting like boys making that awkward transition from thinking girls had cooties to finding them attractive. Children grow up so fast.
Ordo, having suddenly found himself sitting across from the Twi’lek and once again under her attention, shifted uncomfortably. “Um, are there menus around?”
A place of this caliber didn’t have menus. Instead, Skirata asked, “Do you have any specials today?”
“For you guys?” She said with a wink. “Everything’s a special.”
Skirata braced his arms over the back of the seat. “These boys will eat just about anything, and I’m not too partial myself, so four different orders of whatever you say is worth it. And three glasses of juice and a caf for me.”
After the waitress had moved off to put in their orders, the three sets of shoulders visibly sagged. Skirata was having more fun with this than he probably should have. “What? Are you not satisfied with our waitress’s service? She works hard, I can tell you that.”
The protests automatically went up. “It’s not that! She’s just… um…”
“A little…”
“It just feels a little strange.”
The poor boys. Delta probably had very little female interaction, even for a commando squad and for Ordo, though he dealt more with females and civilians in his duties, there’s a difference between dealing with them at work and in social settings.
“You’ll get used to it.” Skirata told them. And perhaps they’ll get used to clones. When the waitress came back with their drinks, she slid on the bench with Scorch and Sev again, obviously finding their flustering responses to her flirting both humorous and attractive. It got to the point where Scorch- whose mouth could rival Fi’s –got tongue-tied.
Which was all well and good, because that was around the time their food was ready and the Twi’lek figured it best to let them eat without fear of choking on their meals. Which they apparently didn’t need help in doing because the first thing Sev did when he took his first mouth full of non-military foodstuff was almost choke.
Skirata nearly stood in alarm as Sev put his head to the table, pounding at his thigh and made muffled gurgling noises except that Scorch merely looked at him and said, “Come on, it can’t be that good.” But when he took a forkful, Scorch’s eyes closed and he let out a soft whimper like someone that’s just come home for the first time in years. “Why can’t dry rations taste like this?”
When he tried to go for a second forkful, Sev elbowed him away. “Hey! Get your own!” And when he slid the plate away from Scorch’s range, it ended up right in the middle of Ordo’s.
“Mmm, that is good.”
Despite all of the attempts that Kaminoans made to make the clones as close to organic droids as they could, there were some human characteristics that could never be clipped out of any genome. One such characteristic, Skirata found, was fighting over food. Ordo wasn’t known for indulging in anyone that wasn’t Kal, and even with those he considered ‘friends’ there was an edge to his play. But with food thrown into the equation, he was just as much a boy as Scorch and Sev, trying to swipe bits from each other’s plates while protecting their own. Skirata knew he was capable of playing and being competitive without taking it personally, he’d seen Ordo enjoy simple games with his brothers back on Kamino all those years back. But then, Jango took as much pleasure in meals as any other warrior- he never seemed to fill up and took longer to anger when there was good food before him.
And when the waitress came back over with four different desserts with her, Skirata had to laugh at the way his boys’ eyes lit up. Jango also had a sweet tooth that was obviously inherited in his clones because they didn’t even shift uncomfortably as she cooed at them, just eyeing the cakes like little boys.
“Could we get some for takeout? Enough for- how many do we have –eight, if you could.”
Part for curiosity’s sake, part for entertainment, Skirata pushed his desert to the middle of the table. He almost didn’t get his hand back in time before the clash of utensils raged as the three younger and more determined men wrestled for a piece of it. So, food really is the way to a man’s heart. At least I know how to get these boys to loosen up a little.
Thankfully, this was yet another thing that was going to be billed to Zey. As cheap as the Kragget was, four main meals and desserts really built up, not to mention the things they were taking back with them. Skirata didn’t know if the two Jedi were going to be awake when they returned, but he highly doubted any of the commandos would be. While a full night’s sleep was practically a vacation in it’s own right, they’d be far too used to staying up for days with only a handful of catnaps keeping them going. That is, catnaps, stims and strong caf.
Don’t start on that. Not right now. He thought to himself. There’s plenty of other things to worry about right now, thinking about how things will be after the war before the end is even in sight is only going to jumble everything up.
The food came in fairly short order, even for a nearly empty restaurant and Skirata left he waitress another large tip. Even if she didn’t realize it, she was giving his boys a taste of civilian life, a life that they were denied from the moment the very idea of them was conceived. And even if Qibbu could pay back the money he owed in full, Skirata didn’t think it would be enough to repay how grateful he was to the woman for that small act of kindness.
~*~*~*~
Operational House, Qibbu’s Hut, 1250 hours,
380 days after Geonosis
They’d already gone over the information before, but with the lack of new intel coming in and in light of information that had come afterward, Boss and Dar were combing through the crime scene reports of all the bombings that’s been going on. They didn’t expect to find anything new, but it kept them busy. And being kept busy meant Boss wasn’t trolling around the safe house, itching for something to happen.
Skirata told them it was going to get boring for a while and, while nine days was longer than Boss had expected, if things got really interesting around here, it could be potentially very dangerous.
“Hey, Boss?” Scorch’s voice came over his earpiece. “We may have a very slight, easily overlooked, really-not-that-important problem.”
Boss’s gaze flickered to Darman, who looked up from his data pad at him. Very carefully, Boss put down his data pad and asked in a slow, distinct manner, “Scorch. What did you do this time?”
“This one isn’t my fault.”
The muscles in Boss’s jaw tensed visibly. “What is Sev doing?” They were supposed to be relieving Sev and Fi in a little over two hours. All they had to do was sit there and watch people go by. Boss couldn’t imagine how they could mess that up, but Sev could be creative when he got bored and he’s heard stories about Fi.
In the background there was the tail end of a low rumble and Boss realized it was the Wookiee, Enacca. Before he could prompt again, Scorch cleared his throat. “You see, Boss.” He said, trying to draw it out in a way that tried to make bad things seem better than they were. And ended up just making Boss more frustrated with the entire situation. “Niner and I were canvasing the area around the bar, making sure no one of suspicious nature was around when Enacca- the Wookiee driver, if you recall –came up to us with a message from Bardan. Normally a very nice guy.”
“Scorch. The point.”
“The point is, Red was doing their watch, as they were supposed to do, and ended up finding something interesting. So they took note of it- I have all the information, identification of the vehicles, the cargo the scanner picked up, visuals on the people in question,” before Boss could ask why Scorch had that information, he continued with, “and then Sev decided to make a command decision and they are now trailing one of the suspicious people.”
Boss let out a burst of explicatives so suddenly Darman winced, almost fumbling his datapad. Scorch hissed painfully. “Yeah, I was afraid you’d say that.”
Taking in a slow, furious breath, Boss pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. “Where are they now?”
“Level 4 retail plaza. Jusik’s following them in the cab- and before you say anything, he waited for us to take his place watching the warehouse before he went off.”
“At least someone had some sense. Have you called this in to Kal, yet?”
There was a slight pause. “I don’t know, Boss. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I don’t know, is abandoning your post on an observation mission to trail someone without authorization a good idea?”
“This is one of those trick questions you like throwing out, isn’t-”
“Scorch.”
“Shutting up.”
Boss sat heavily on the couch, clearly trying to think of a way to rectify the situation that would bring the least amount of trouble on all of them. “I knew it was a bad idea pairing the two of them together.”
Suddenly Niner’s voice came over the frequency. “I hope you’re not bringing into question Fi’s ability to improvise.” He said in the tone of voice the rest of Omega had come to dub the ‘you-should-think-about-re-wording-your-statement’.
It was most likely due to the frustration, but Boss bit. “I’m bringing into question his ability to keep Sev in line. Fixer or I should have gone with him instead.”
“The point behind the assigning was so we can learn to operate outside of our squads.”
“The point is we shouldn’t have to.”
The line went disturbingly quiet and Darman turned his face away so Boss couldn’t see how pale it suddenly went. “Hey, now!” Scorch said quickly. “I think you’re overreacting a little, Boss. I mean- yeah, Sev isn’t an easy guy to deal with. Maybe Kal didn’t know that, honest mistake.”
Niner didn’t seem convinced. “And how is handling Sev so much harder than handling the rest of us?”
“Trust me. It is. Unless you’ve done something to impress him, or earn his respect, there’s no guarantee even rank will make him give a shabla about what you’ve got to say. Half the time he won’t even listen when I tell him he’s about to do something crazy because he’ll just point out some of the dumb things I’ve pulled.”
“Alright, Scorch.” Boss interjected. “You keep in touch with either Jusik or Red Watch. If anything comes up, let me know immedeatly, got that?”
“I got that, Boss.” Scorch said. “What do you plan on doing?” Because he knew well enough that whenever something was going on that Boss couldn’t control, he had to be doing something.
“There’s nothing for it but telling Sergeant Skirata. Best sooner than later, I figure.” Boss checked the chrono “He’s meeting with Obrim right now, but I’ll get him a soon as I can. And Scorch, if you happen to get in contact with them, make sure Sev knows that if Sergeant Skirata doesn’t kill him, his shebs is mine.”
“Right.” Scorch said slowly, making as if he were jotting notes down on something. “Tell Sev Boss said hi, got it.” He laughed into the communicator. “Don’t worry about it, Leader Man. Two commandos and a Jedi- nothing’s going to happen to them.”
Boss just cut off the connection, unwilling to voice that if it were that easy, none of them would be here right now.
~*~*~*~
Bar, Qibbu’s Hut, 0040 hours,
381 days after Geonosis
Ever since the operation began, more and more troopers were drawn to Qibbu’s Hut, enough so that ten days after they’ve procured the upper level, both squads and Ordo could be down in the bar at the same time and not look out of place.
Boss, Scorch and Jusik were down there now, nursing cafs and sharing a bowl of some unknown snack between them. The bar was only half full and there was only need for two to watch down here, but all parties involved decided it would be best for Delta and Omega to get a little time away from each other. And Jusik sat with them to ensure they were placated without feeling as if they’re presence was suddenly a liability.
They hadn’t done anything wrong, Jusik thought. Delta was just too used to being told where to go and doing their job. Their impatience with the operation was tangible, even in the apathetic atmosphere of the bar. He didn’t know them well enough to know which words would seem like an honest attempt to calm them and not sound like a general attempting a false heart-to-heart with his men.
But it seemed he would be saved from that situation as he spied a familiar figure coming in through the door. Standing, Jusik smiled widely. “You’re here early. Business trip wrapped up sooner than expected?” He asked.
In an instant, Boss and Scorch were on their feet, moving to take the two bags from Vau’s hands. “Sit, sit.” He told them, setting the luggage down and waving his hands. They didn’t sit, but they stood back.
“It’s good to see you again,” the beginning of ‘sarge’ almost slipped off of Boss’s lips, “Walon.”
Vau’s presence was barely a glimmer in the Force- so detached from any strong emotions, the only way Jusik could sense him was the fact that he was alive –but his eyes crinkled in a mild form of amusement. “It’s good to see you, too. The rest of the boys upstairs?”
“Yeah.” Scorched seemed even more reluctant to refer to his former sergeant by his first name. “They’re being wowed by the view on the landing pad.”
“Good.” Vau eyed the table and waved his hand again. “Sit.” He told them, taking a spot for himself. The strill wrapped itself around his feet, the scent of it ensuring the group had a wide buffer around them. “I’ve heard about some of the work you’ve been doing.” He told Boss and Scorch. “I knew you boys would do right.”
As far as compliments they’ve been given since Jusik has known them, that was probably the least actual complimentary. But, while Skirata’s praise made them swell with pride, the two of them were practically beacons of joy in the Force; Jusik had heard Vau was a tough instructor and rarely gave out praise, but he didn’t expect such simple words to have such a profound affect.
“We do the best we can.” Boss said, unable to keep the pride from his voice.
“I know you do. Poor boys.” The commandos seemed as confused as Jusik at this turn of phrase, waiting for Vau to elaborate. “You must feel out of your depths, here. Nothing like you’ve been through before, is it?”
It took Jusik a moment, but he figured out Vau was referring to their current situation with the terrorists. Boss and Scorch seemed to have picked this up quicker.
“It’s different.” Scorch admitted. “We’re still trying to get the hang of it.”
“You always were my more impatient boys. But then, Jango was also short on patience and temper.” Vau told them almost fondly. “But this isn’t the kind of situation where you can just do what you think should be done. You weren’t taught how to deal with these sorts of missions- a lack of foresight on many people’s parts. But every situation is different. You have to learn how to feel these out. That’s why you need to have a veteran among you to direct what should be done. While Sev and Fi’s impromptu trailing led to a breakthrough, they put the entire operation at risk. They lucked out this time, but the next time they do something without authorization, they could force the terrorists’ hand and cause us grief that could’ve been avoided.”
Boss nodded. “Understood. Kal had already addressed the situation with them. It won’t happen again.”
“Good. You boys have done me proud for so long, I’d hate your flawless record to be marred because one of you got too antsy.”
Though it was said mildly, the two commandos’ heads dropped slightly. Jusik didn’t like the idea of Vau manipulating them through their feelings for his approval, even if it was for the best. But it wasn’t his place to say anything and kept quiet.
“Don’t worry.” Vau amended. “Once things get rolling, you’ll be as busy as ever and doing what it is you do best.”
Straightening out again, Boss explained, “It’s not that we don’t like what we’re doing. We are learning some interesting things about the whole process.”
“Except for when you get into a fight with Omega, I see.”
The two stiffened. “How did you know?”
Vau smiled thinly. “I wasn’t told, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just know my boys have a hard time playing nicely with others. You four especially. I also know that Kal’s boys aren’t all that much better. It’s one thing to get two squads to work together, it’s another thing entirely to force them into close proximity for a long period of time before they learn each other’s limits. You have your way of doing things, they have theirs. These long days of not doing anything is most likely wearing on them as much as you. Is it any surprise that you’d be having altercations?”
“It’s not that we don’t like meeting people.” Scorch said with a half-forced lightness. “You were the one that taught us, ‘go out, meet interesting people, then kill them’. It’s the not getting to do the last part that makes us a bit edgy.”
“Udesii, boys. You’ll get your chance in the end.” Vau stood, grabbing his two bags. The strill circled around him. Jusik noted that Boss and Scorch eyed it with a certain measure of wariness, though it didn’t do more than gap at them with rows of jagged teeth. “Upper level, correct? I think I’ll join the rest of the party.”
The three men stood, the Deltas moving around the strill, trying to get the bags. “No, thank you.” Vau said, moving out of reach. “I’m still able to carry my own things.” He looked over at Jusik. “I know I’m earlier than expected, but don’t let them know I’m coming. I’d like to see how they react to an uninvited visitor.”
Boss and Scorch rocked for a moment, as if they weren’t certain what to do. “Ah, all right.” They stood back, watching as their former sergeant and his pet headed toward the lift.
Jusik sighed and said, honestly, “That was certainly an experience. I’ve never met a man like him before.”
“Not everyone can be seen for who they are in first impressions.” Boss said seriously. “Some not after several impressions. He may seem like a hard and cruel man, but he never put us through anything he didn’t expect us to survive.”
Jusik didn’t want to ask if that’s something Vau had told them, or if it was something they had gleaned from their years spent training under him. Either way, it was evidently something they believed whole heartedly, and Jusik didn’t want to offend them anymore than he inadvertently already had.
“I apologize, I didn’t mean it like that.” He explained. “I meant that the impression he leaves on the Force. I’ve never met anyone that had the same sensation as him. Even the masters I’ve met didn’t have the same kind of distance as him.”
Boss fell silent and Scorch snickered. “Oh. Then I apologize for jumping to conclusions.”
He smiled broadly, patting Boss’s arm. “In my short time fighting in this war, the judgement of my troopers had both proven to be very valuable and have saved my life a number of times. If you say Walon is a man that can be trusted, then I believe he is.”
But with both sergeants here, Jusik hoped it would help keep the squad placated. But then, given their history with each other, he hoped they wouldn’t end up killing each other instead.
~*~*~*~
Operational House, Qibbu’s Hut, 1120 hours,
382 days after Geonosis
Etain didn’t really know how to deal with Delta Squad. Each clone trooper had a slight emphasis on a specific character trait the helped differentiate him from the rest of his brothers and caused them to fall into niches. Commandos, though, had different and fully developed personalities. She’d grown used to Omega’s quirks on Qiilura- awkward boys transitioning into men, still trying to get a feel for each other. Delta, though, was so integrated with each other the squad as a whole seemed like a living beast. She had to wonder if other wholly intact squads felt like that.
And, she had noticed, while Omega took to the world outside the military like curious children, Delta looked at it either as a strange field of battle or with distrust. In fact, they treated most anyone that wasn’t a Delta with a certain measure of distance.
She watched as Fixer tore apart the holoprojector that he kept in his pack, taking the same sort of joy in dismantling and reassembling things Atin did. The sure, almost off-handed way Fixer’s tools fit seamlessly in the object made Etain wonder how often he did this.
He was aware of her, she knew, and knew that he knew she knew. But he kept pulling pieces apart, watching her like a second thought. Survival instinct, if Etain had to guess.
Her curiosity getting the best of her, she asked, “Do you prefer Fixer or Four-Oh?”
“Four-Oh.” He said automatically. Though there was no hiccup to his actions, Etain could feel a part of him closing off to her. Darman once told her that most commandos consider their nicknames to be an exclusive right only to those they considered close. Such as their squad mates or someone that earned that right. Fixer, who seemed more and more reclusive as the days went by, must hold staunchly to that idea despite his brothers doing the opposite.
“Not the sort of missions you’re used to dealing with?”
“Even if it’s something we weren’t formally trained for, we were taught to be prepared and flexible.”
“Even for this?” Etain asked. “I know Delta’s used to the ‘in-and-out’ missions, moving from one to another. Here, you not only have days of nothing, but you also have to deal with someone telling you every action you have to take. It probably hasn’t been easy on you, if you’re used to more freedom in your process.”
The lens of the projector flashed in Fixer’s hands as he polished it with a soft cloth. He was quiet, but unease rolled off him like a trickle out of a straining dam. The other members of Delta found a way to release their frustrations, but Fixer kept his misgivings inside. He didn’t confine in his brothers for either fear of seeming weak or unnecessarily burdening them. Nor did he confine in anyone else because they weren’t Deltas. Etain knew the others realized it was pent up, but Fixer’s squad didn’t try to press him for something he wasn’t ready to say and it was less likely he would talk to someone outside of them.
It was some sort of macho thing, Etain decided. And, as someone not born with a macho gene, she knew she’d be the only one that could weasel the information out of him.
“It’s… different.” Fixer finally conceded. He cleaned each piece of the holoprojector in his hands before he began to assemble it again. “But every mission is different. The key to surviving is learning how to adapt before you’re killed.”
Etain nodded. It sounded very much like something Vau would say. “I didn’t know you could build a holoprojector.”
“Sergeant Vau was very strict on us knowing the ins and outs of tech. Since we depend so much on our armor and HUD, we should know how to care for it and repair it.” He bundled the wiring up, strands spread out like colored grass in the wind. “We can all do basic repairs, but I picked up the most. I can fix just about any problem that doesn’t require replacing parts on the field.” Which is how I got my name was left unsaid.
“That’s amazing.” Etain told him, feeling a slight rush of warmth coming off Fixer at the compliment.
“Sergeant Vau made sure we were prepared for any scenario.” He said with no false modesty. “He didn’t try to be a father figure like Sergeant Skirata, but he care in his own way.”
“You really look up to Vau, don’t you?”
“He… gave us out lives. The Kaminoans cultivated us and the Republic gave us a job, but Sergeant Vau gave us our intelligence, our purpose; he gave us the ability to do everything we’re told and to survive whatever might happen.” Fixer had stopped working and just tumbled a half-constructed tube between his fingers. “Survival was what he pressed most on us. Survival by any means. To not survive was giving up. On our brothers, our heritage, our teachings- to lose any of those, we might as well be dead.”
Etain’s eyes darkened, seeing another source of Atin’s raw pain come to light.
“Sergeant Vau taught us in a way so when the time came, all we’d need is our brothers and our intelligence. He made it so once we left for battle we wouldn’t need him anymore.”
At this information, she sat back in surprise. Skirata needed his boys and, in return, was needed by them. She could feel the fierce love held by them like a lifeline. If anything happened to Skirata, she wondered how many of his commandos would fall apart. But Vau’s men would move on just as efficiently should Vau die. That’s how they were taught. And, though the bonds of respect between Delta and their former sergeant was still strong, he didn’t anchor them.
She wondered, in this time of war when so little people were truly safe, which course of action was the wiser.
“But,” Fixer said, then hesitated. On some level, he knew he needed to get his uncertainties out, but lacked someone offering their services as a soundboard. Etain made an encouraging noise, afraid her saying something would disturb his vulnerable mood.
“Omega doesn’t seem to depend on each other so much. They’re…” trying to prompt his train of thought, Fixer’s hands reached for the pieces of tech again. “They look to others for… not help but… but something.” Not being able to think up the proper word frustrated him. “Even if it’s Sergeant Skirata and Ordo, what could they do that their brothers can’t? What sort of support could a stranger give them that they would seek them out?” He abruptly cut himself off. “I apologize, ma’am. I was speaking out of turn.”
Ah, so that’s it. Delta was brought up to rely on each other. They didn’t have the same fascination with families or lovers as Omega did because they didn’t see a point to it. And, if Fixer couldn’t understand Omega being attached to Skirata or Ordo, it must really boggle the mind to figure out how she fit into it all.
Etain hummed for a moment. “I don’t think I can give you the exact answer, but maybe something my master ones told me might be helpful.” This was, of course, a lie. But she figured Fixer would appreciate the passing of teaching more than advice. “Each person’s frame of existence is like a world. At the center of that world is you, beyond that world is everyone else. You know they’re there, you’re aware they exist, but to you, they can’t touch you. They have nothing to do with you.” Etain laced her hands, appearing to think. She noted that Fixer had stopped messing with the holoprojector and was giving her his full attention. “I suppose for you, your world would be you and the rest of Delta Squad. Everyone else, Omega, Skirata, even Vau would be considered ‘outsiders’. You think that everything you need and everything that matters to you is in this world with you. And I suppose all the commando teams do, too. It’s not a bad way to live, I think. You know who you can trust and who you can depend on. There’s no complications and you know each of your limitations.
“Omega was probably like that, too, I’ll bet. Back when they were in their original pods. But then they lost their brothers and were forced to rebuild that world with new brothers. It’s probably that experience- realizing they’re still vulnerable and having to rely on new people that lets them open up to others. My world was small, too, when I was with Master Fulier. But when Omega came, I had to open to them in order to survive. I learned a lot from them, a lot about myself, too. And I suppose so did they. They don’t look at everything as either ‘them’ or ‘outsiders’. They’re still wary, yes, but maybe a bit more open. New people can lead to interesting experience and a lot of people think what they can learn from others is worth the dangers of the unknown.” Etain leaned forward a little. “Does that make any sense?”
For a moment Fixer was silent, then he turned back to his reconstruction task. “A little.” She didn’t need the Force to tell her he was dwelling on her words. Fixer spent most of his time quietly observing and Etain wouldn’t have been surprised if he was slowly coming to the same conclusion himself. “Would it be possible for your world to get so full you force others out?”
“I won’t lie- sometimes all it takes is one more person, sometimes just time is enough and you’ll suddenly find yourself leaving behind people you never would’ve thought you could. But,” she said with a smile, “there are some people you’d never be able to get rid of, even if you wanted to. If you ask me, those are the ones you would call ‘family’.”
“Family, huh?” With a practice twist, Fixer clasped the delicate machinery in its protective casing, shining an old holorecording to ensure it was working properly. “Family is what you make of it, they say.”
“Family is forever.”
The door to the safe house opened and Scorch, followed by Fi and Atin came in, laughing about something. “Hey, Fixer!” He called out, holding up something the smelled more appealing than the stuff they usually ate at the bar. “Sergeant Skirata brought back some pie for us to try out! Saved you some of the lemon one if you want it.”
“I’ll be there in a bit.” Fixer called out. When he turned back to Etain, he looked a little uncertain. “Um-”
“Next time I have a problem with a piece of tech,” she said easily, “I’ll be sure to look for you.”
Fixer’s smile, like the rest of him, was reserved but honest. “Thank you, ma’am.” Pocketing the holoprojector in his red fatigues, Fixer joined the rest of his brethren as they joked over something that happened in the bar not long ago. And though he gave Scorch a pat on the shoulder, Etain noted that Fixer sat between Fi and Atin.
Sensing the last of the tension gradually easing out of him, Etain figured she earned herself a small slice of that pie and a quick nap.
~*~*~*~
Operational House, Qibbu’s Hut, 0155 hours,
385 days after Geonosis
The only bad thing about being with the same people in such close proximity for such a long time is that you notice every little thing about them, learn to read every nuance, even if you don’t intend to. The problem is those people also know how to do that to you. So, even though Sev tried his best to look as if nothing were wrong, it took Scorch all of ten seconds to know something was.
He sat up from where he was once reclining on a bed. “What happened?”
Sev’s eyes flickered to him for a moment, carefully hiding a curse. “Nothing happened. Same boring routine.”
“But you’re hurt.”
“No, I’m not.”
Scorch frowned in the way he rarely ever did. “No. You’re hurt. What happened?”
“It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”
The frown only grew deeper and when Scorch stood up Sev knew exactly what he was going to do and moved to block the door. “You’re not getting them.”
“Then tell me what’s wrong.” When Sev hesitated, Scorch’s voice dropped low. “Will it keep you from completing the mission.”
“No.”
But the clench of Sev’s jaw put a hidden line to those words that Scorch saw all too well. He moved passed the sniper. “I’m getting them.”
By the time the three of them came into the room, Sev apparently resigned himself to the upcoming conversation. He sat on his bed, the left sleeve of his bodysuit pulled down. His shoulder was covered in painful looking splotches and had swollen. Fixer hissed and moved in to examine it.
Boss went, as his nickname suggested, into full boss-mode. “What happened, Seven?”
“Amateur’s mistake.” Sev replied, flinching slightly as Fixer probed his shoulder. “I let myself get provoked, did something stupid and got hurt.”
“Dislocation.” Fixer supplied. “Doesn’t seem to be lasting damage- no pinched nerves or twisted muscle.”
Scorch shook his head, circling around his brother to get a look at the full extent of the damage. “Omega’s a bad influence on you, aren’t they?”
“Scorch.” Boss said warily.
“Think about it. He tries picking fights with their guys, plays uber-hero on a simple observation mission and gets goaded into doing stupid stunts.” Scorch leaned on Sev’s right shoulder. “Psycho Man, are you trying to impress someone?”
Sev growled. “It won’t happen again, so get off my case.”
“The fact that it happened at all is the problem.”
The room went hush at Boss’s sharp voice. “What would have happened if it were a serious injury? If you couldn’t complete this mission? If your little stunt got unwanted attention? Delta has never failed a mission because it comes before all else. And to complete a mission, each of us has to be careful in what we do. When we do take risks, they’re calculated. At least the dangerous stunts you do on missions is aimed for mission accomplishment. What was this for? To prove that you’re a hard-ass?” His accent got thicker the angrier he got. “We’re not in the front, but this is still a life or death mission. Treat it like one.”
“Understood.”
For a moment, Boss felt guilty for what he’d said. The look on Sev’s face clearly said he took this lapse of judgement seriously, that he looked on it as a failure. But it had to be said and he had to be the one to say it.
Mouth dry, he let out a low, “Good” before turning to leave.
“Are you going to tell Sergeant Vau?”
Boss whipped his head around. Fixer had his arms crossed, shoulders hunched and head low, looking at Boss with an uncertainty he’d never seen in his brother before. The air in the room changed completely, almost like a pane of glass balanced precariously on its edge. Scorch stood just behind Sev, his hand clamped tight on the latter’s uninjured shoulder.
For the first time, the three of them looked at Boss- the man they viewed as their leader –almost as if… almost as if he wasn’t someone they could wholly trust, almost as if he weren’t a Delta.
It hurt more than anything else he’d felt. “I- no. I’d never.” It was said with such vehemence- a little betrayed that they would even consider that as something he’d do –that three sets of shoulders sagged. “You learned your lesson, didn’t you?”
Sev let out a shuddering breath and Scorch patted his shoulder reassuringly. Boss didn’t think he’d ever seen Sev so relieved in his life. “Yes. I did. It won’t happen again.”
He nodded. “Make sure it doesn’t. At least not when we’re not there to stop you.” Boss tilted his head back, considering. “You know what this means now, don’t you? If Fixer tells you whatever crack-pot idea you have going on is too dangerous you’ll have to listen to him.”
“Fierfek. For how long?”
“Until I think you’ve completely grasped the lesson.”
From the wall, Fixer almost snickered and Sev made a face. “I learned my lesson. Absolutely and completely. Don’t do this to me, Boss.”
“At least he’s not making you room together.” Scorch chirped brightly, giving Sev a noogie. The sniper lashed back with an elbow that caught him in the gut. Except it was with his left so when Scorch let out a coughing grunt, Sev clutched at his shoulder with a hiss.
“I’m not convinced.” Boss said with a hum. “And since the two of you are still rooming together, Scorch gets to play your nursemaid.”
“What?”
“Hey, nurse. I need some ice.”
“Aw, Boss. That’s not fair.”
“Well, Fixer? Shall we turn in for the night?”
It wasn’t often Fixer loosened up to his brothers’ bantering, but he was smiling broadly now. “After you, Three-Eight.”
Before the door closed behind the two, they heard Scorch’s wail of, “Boss!” and Sev’s obviously amused, “Less mouth, more ice.”
~*~*~*~
RAS Vengeance, leaving Coruscant, 0510 hours,
395 days after Geonosis
“Uf. I think this is why we never drink.”
“Shhh.” Fixer said, rubbing at his forehead even though his helmet was on.
But Scorch kept rambling painfully. “My head feels like it’s going to explode. I don’t know how those CSF officers can drink so much. Or even like drinking that much. Ow. Owowow.”
Fixer was now cradling his head as Delta Squad sat in the most out-of-the-way and, above all, quietest corner of the ship’s cargo bay they could find. At least if the troopers got too loud they could cut off the audio filter, but radio silence from their own squad members made them uncomfortable when it wasn’t needed.
They hadn’t intended anything more than a quiet night resting in the barracks before they had to ship off for their next mission. Except that Skirata had approached them that night and said he was actually asked by their former sergeant to buy each of them a drink. Vau had never given any of his squads- even Delta –anything more than a few words of pride and this sudden charity wasn’t lost on Skirata, either. Especially when, given the specified drinks, he had told Delta Squad that if they didn’t finish it, he wouldn’t tell Vau.
It was a terrible drink. It burned unpleasantly and tasted worse and prodded at their brains with hot pokers, but if there was one thing Delta Squad was known for, it was sheer determination. They forced down each mouthful to the amazement of everyone at the bar. And after they had finished- to applause, they were shocked to note –other people wanted to buy them drinks. And, because they were never taught to say no to an act of honest kindness, they accept each one until Skirata hussled the unsteady boys back to base.
“If I throw up again, someone kill me.”
“You don’t shut up,” Sev couldn’t bring himself to swat even half-heartedly at Scorch, “I’ll just kill you now and save everyone the trouble.”
Boss- who didn’t drink nearly as much as the rest of his squad mates and therefore felt slightly more alive –leaned his head against the bulkhead. “Like Sergeant Vau always said. It’s a lesson learned.”
“Never trust a civvie.”
He gave a weak chuckle. “I suppose that works for now.”
“You know,” Scorch said, trying to slouch comfortably in the corner, “if we ever get some R&R again, I hope it’ll be as interesting as the last one. Just… maybe not so much of the drinking at the end.”
“If we keep it together long enough, we very well just might.”
Fixer’s chin bobbed against his chest. “I don’t know if I can take more of that kind of excitement. Wake me when the war’s over.” His only reply was a soft chuckle before the four, lulled by the muted roar of the engines as the ship fought its way out of Coruscant’s atmosphere, dozed off utterly confident in the comfort of each other.
