Nika6q

The sun was low when most of the Batch had returned to the Marauder. Tech immediately took his place at the pilot seat while Echo eased into the co-pilot position. Wrecker had yet to return from Cira’s, having quickly grown attached to both her and her young son in the short couple of days they'd been on the island. Omega’s absence didn’t slip Hunter's notice either and he sat reclined against the frame of the lowered boarding ramp, twirling his vibroknife between his fingers as he waited. A breeze rustled the branches that stretched out into a canopy that shaded the Maurader as the sun dipped below the shimmering blue horizon.

“Hunter,” Tech heralded his approach to his brother, noting his deep contemplative stare into the forest. Hunter jerked his head in Tech’s direction but didn't falter in the twirling of his blade. Tech continued, “We have a transmission from Cid.”

Hunter scrubbed his hand over his face and grunted. “Great. We’ll watch it soon as Wrecker's back.”

Tech nodded and quietly retreated back to the comfort of his seat. Echo sat reclined in the chair parallel to Tech, his eyes closed in a brief instant of peaceful tranquillity.

“How'd it go?”

Tech snapped his head up with a start and looked at Echo whose eyes were still closed.

“I am afraid I am not sure of what you are referring.”

Echo smirked. “The doc. How did telling her she needed to fix her emergency protocol go?”

Tech’s eyebrows raised in understanding. “Ah. Yes, she was…displeased."

Echo snorted, his shoulders bouncing in a silent chuckle. He slouched in the seat and wiggled to get more comfortable.

“How did you—”

“Because I know you, Tech.” Echo twisted his head to stretch his neck and crossed his arms over his chest before closing his eyes for a quick nap.

Tech took a moment to process Echo’s words before returning his attention to calculating the necessary adjustments needed to tweak the hyperdrive on the Marauder.

———

Wrecker finally returned once the pinks and purples of the sky were beclouded by deep blue and indigo. His thudding footsteps woke Echo with a jarring spasm from his seat, his hand scrubbing his face in an effort to ground himself once more. Tech was far less surprised by Wrecker’s return, having grown accustomed to his heavy gait in their childhood.

Hunter strolled in behind their burly brother and approached the control panel.

“Tech? The message please,” Hunter requested, crossing his arms across his chest.

The hologram of the surly Trandoshan fizzled and flickered briefly before stabilizing into her recognizable shape.

“Hey there boys. I realize I said I would contact you in seven rotations but my contact has sent me some information I need to pass on. You need to get the goods in the next two rotations or scrub the mission and come back. Empire informants have notified the big wigs that there is a high value target on the planet and I don’t feel like having to deal with Empire goons following you back to my establishment. I am sending the details now.”

“That changes things drastically,” Hunter mused. “We still have to get supplies and fuel so we will hit the mainland in two rotations and hopefully we can pull off the mission with minimal interference.”

“We should take Avery,” Omega chirped, causing her brothers to jump in surprise.

Hunter cocked an eyebrow suspiciously. “And why do you want to do that, Omega?”

Omega grinned sheepishly at Hunter as she held Nuna, “Because I already asked her to come with us?” 

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose, a tension headache brewing, “Why did you do that? And that kriffing loth-cat is back?”

 Omega scowled and clutched Nuna whose eyes narrowed and tail swished in response to Hunter’s disdain. “Yes. And I asked because she needs medical supplies and has to go anyway. Look, she gave us the last of her bacta patches!” Omega held up a fistful of the patches before continuing. “And I thought she could help with the mission.”

 “Look, Omega, we can’t just let some strange woman in on our mission. What if she’s hiding something? Hunter explained while rubbing his temples.

 “We have secrets too,” Omega glared, unwilling to break eye contact until she came out the winner of this debate. 

Hunter grumbled as he conceded, “Fine. She can come. That loth-cat is not staying the night here again.”

 Omega immediately brightened, “Okay! Nuna and I are going to my room now!”

Hunter grumbled, frustrated that Omega always knew how to work him to get her way, “Tech, take the loth-cat back tonight. See if you can get any information out of the doctor so we can prepare for the worst.”

———

The little light on the porch illuminated Tech’s face in the darkness. He lightly rapped on the door with his free hand, the other tenderly cradling the sleeping Nuna. The door slid open to reveal a heavy lidded and flushed Avery leaning against the door frame holding a glass. 

She’s inebriated. That will make acquiring intel for Hunter much easier.

“You have been drinking.”

Her eyebrow quirked upward. “Indeed. Care for a glass?”

“I am not one to turn down a free drink. I have no intention of starting tonight.” Tech stepped across the threshold and scanned the room. Nearly decorated but unusually devoid of any obvious sentimental effects.

“Lovely. Hope you enjoy Port in a Storm.”

Tech tilted his head in interest. It was an unusual choice of alcohol. “The fortified wine from Pamarthe? I can’t say that I’ve tried it. I have heard it is quite potent and many non-Pamarthans are easily overwhelmed by it.”

“Change your mind?”

“Not in the slightest. By the way, this little one made her way back to us again today. She seems to be very attached to Omega. They played in her room until they fell asleep together.” He passed Nuna to Avery.

 “She seems to like all of you. She doesn’t let just anyone carry her around. Thank you for bringing her home.” She put Nuna down and proceeded to pour a glass of wine for Tech. “Cheers. Please make yourself comfortable. It’s not much but it’s home.”

Tech scrutinized the sitting room more intently, evaluating and assessing for potential threats. His gaze lingered on Avery who had taken a seat and was staring vacantly into her own glass. He found himself intrigued by her. “You are unhappy.” 

She looked up with a morose smile before returning her gaze to her glass and downed the remaining wine in a single drink, refilling the crystal immediately. As he continued scanning the room, Tech caught a glance of something that captured his attention; the medic bag from earlier.

“That medic bag is standard issue from the Grand Army of the Republic. How did it come into your possession?” 

Tech noted she shifted uncomfortably in her seat before answering, “Because I was a medic for the Grand Army of the Republic.” She breathed a heavy sigh through her nose before rambling on, inebriation loosening her tongue. “Most of my time was spent being shipped off to one of the many medical frigates. Or Coruscant. And there was the single miserable time I was shipped to Kamino. Those Kaminoans hated me. I didn’t last long there. One screaming match with Lama Su and suddenly I’m ‘mouthy’ and ‘insubordinate.’ But I made my way onto the battlefield a few times. Enough times really. Why do you ask?” She absently swirled her glass and avoided his gaze.

“Simple curiosity. It is not exactly a common household item. This wine is excellent by the way.” He watched intently as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. 

This was progress. However, he knew she wasn’t telling the entire truth. She wasn’t lying but she was certainly leaving out key information. 

 “Hunter has also requested that I ask if you would like to accompany us to the mainland since you mentioned needing to restock on medical supplies to Omega. We will be going in two rotations.”

She slowly looked at him again. “That’s very thoughtful. Yes, thank you,” her head was lulling slightly, eyes drooping heavily under the weight of the wine. 

Tech stood up, “Very well. I will let Hunter know you will be coming along. You seem tired so I will be leaving now. Thank you for the wine. Good evening, Doctor Leto.”

“Good evening, Tech. And thank you for bringing Nuna home again.” He turned and gave a nod before walking out the door.

Medical frigates. He thought to himself beneath the sea of stars that twinkled merrily above his head. That means there will be GAR records on her. This will be much easier than I had initially anticipated.

—————

“You were out late last night Tech. Everything okay?” Echo asked as he entered the cockpit of the Marauder. 

“Yes, everything is fine. I had an opportunity to talk to Dr. Leto a bit over a glass of wine.” 

Wrecker howled with laughter as he slapped Tech’s shoulder, “Yeah! Way to go, Tech!”

Tech shot him an irritated scowl, “There was nothing untoward about our encounter. We talked, that was it. I do believe she divulged more than she would have had she been sober. Fortunately I was able to utilize the information she gave me.”

“And?” Hunter asked, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. 

“Look at this.” Tech pulled up a holo of an old GAR military service record. “Dr. Avery Leto, Jedi Consular-Healer and Medical Officer. She mentioned in passing a confrontation with Lama Su so I dug into that. It does appear that Lama Su filed a complaint against her for insubordination. It is reported that she refused to refer to clones by their assigned numerical designation insisting on only using their names. And in her confrontation with Lama Su she was recorded as saying, and I quote, ‘Listen here you condescending, arrogant, long necked piece of bantha poodoo, these men are my patients and when you are in my presence you will refer to them by name. It’s the least amount of respect you can show them considering all they do.’”

 Hunter bit back a smile. Meanwhile Echo and Wrecker made no attempt to stifle their laughter. 

Tech grinned and adjusted his goggles before continuing, “l imagine she feels we are more of a threat to her than she is to us. Empire records have her listed as status unknown. It appears they are not confident that she was terminated during Order 66. It explains her standoffish behavior. For all she knows we’ve been sent to find her and kill her on sight. That said, she did agree to accompany us to the mainland. However, she was exceptionally intoxicated when I broached the topic with her. You may want to send Omega to revisit that offer today.”

Hunter crossed his arms and sighed, “I’ll let Omega know we need her to pay the good doc another visit.”

———

Omega bounced excitedly as she knocked on Avery's door. She grinned from ear to ear, extraordinarily pleased that she’d gotten her way. The vining flowers around the door were in bloom and Omega watched in awe as a dazzling butterfly flitted from blossom to blossom. There was a soft shuffling and Omega saw Avery peek out from behind the curtain. She waved enthusiastically to her before the curtain fell shut and the door opened.

She was met with a forced smile and squinting, blood-shot eyes as Avery leaned against the doorframe. “Good morning, Omega. What can I do for you?”

Omega bounced happily on the balls of her feet. “Hunter sent me to tell you he’s okay with you joining us tomorrow! He says we are leaving at 0700!”

Confusion and then comprehension crossed Avery's face as she nodded slowly. “Yes, thank you Omega.” Avery rubbed her face. “I…am not well this morning, little one. I’m sorry—”

“Oh it’s okay!” Omega chirped. “One time Ketch drank too many Wicked Womprats and his eyes looked like yours do right now!”

As she watched Omega happily skip away, her brow pinched in confusion and she was left with questions. Of those being “Who is Ketch? and “What is a Wicked Womprat?” She rubbed her temples as the throbbing behind them intensified and returned to her bed to nurse her self inflicted pain. She groaned as she lay down and pulled her blanket over her head. Nuna padded across her and slipped beneath the covers, tucking herself beneath Avery's chin and they both fell asleep as the little loth-cat purred.

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🦉 The Campfire

Kashyyyk | 21 BBY | First camping outside of the 41st Ranger Platoon base

Clone Medic Text was a nervousness babbler. Just to be fair, he has been actually silent all duty day, focussed and observing their new Commander and her actions. In his opinion, they couldn't have gotten a better deal. She was tough, quite protective and the best – she let them do their job.

Before moving out today, he had double checked his medic field backpack and added some of his own special features to impress and almost made it too late for the call. So he had skipped shaving and hid behind his bucket as long as possible.

Luckily the Commander seemed to be cool and collected, not too stern, not different than on their first mission together, before they were an official unit. Maybe it's just his hopes, but especially after official hours now she was smiling often and was – thankfully – quite a good listener!

Text though, he maybe has never had the chance to indulge rambling about his interests (fauna) in that scale before and maybe never will have. This moment at the campfire will linger in his head and his heart. This was so much better than his escalated downtown adventures in Coruscant!

Her sudden hand on his shoulder was at first a bit unsettling, but he got the hint, calmed down his mood a bit. He was happy with everything right now. Who could blame him? She was one of the most beautiful nat-borns he ever saw (his trainers on Kamino, some Jedi from the distance, Geonosians and Wookies, some others at 79s) and she hasn't stopped him yet and now she's even laughing!

He could get used to this. That's my Commander now, he thought, grinning cheekily at her. If he died tomorrow fulfilling his duty under her command, it would be a kriffing honor.

---

Padawan Commander Eo was nervous now too, because it was the first after official hours outside of the protection of the base. She somehow landed here, alone in the wilderness of Kashyyyk with the 5 clone troopers she initially had chosen out of the locally stationed 41st, just for a single special Jedi Padawan mission. She never thought about seeing them again, even less, that they could've got assigned to her as her own unit – long-termed.

Now she was sitting with the very same clones on some lost crates around a campfire in the small abandoned foothold they headed to camp for the night. This was strange, but in a nice way. Together they already have made themselves a name as a unit, by mere chance.

So those five men are again under her command now. For the first unofficial mission just one week ago, she had chosen them for their specialisations and for somehow standing out of the mass. Outsiders, just like herself, as she struggles with her Padawan training despite being mighty in the Force, allegedly.

If she had known that she would end up stuck together with those men, she maybe would have chosen differently. Or maybe not?

Anyway, at the moment she felt comfortable at the warm campfire, listening to Text's excitement ramble, his familiar deep clone voice full of joyful passion, his eyes sparkling from sharp intelligence, playful- and watchfulness alike and – if she squinted – a glint of madness. No wonder actually.

Eo liked him. She let him talk her ears off, also because kind of positively surprised that such a young clone trooper reached out to her like that.

It warmed her heart, seeing Text revive like this after being all day not only a badass attentive medic, but also a quiet and highly skilled close combat fighter. She badly wants to know how a Gen 3 clone, not older than maybe 8 or 9 years, biologically 16 or 17, could have developed skills like that.

She laughed, as he started to wave with his data pad, already leaning in to explain even more dramatically. Without further thinking about it, she placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him and herself in their shared laughter and tried to save him from himself. And maybe also a bit herself from him.

Looking into his mirthful eyes and then over the other watching pairs of almost similar looking amber-brown eyes – curious, incredulous, mischievous and amused – Commander Eo realised maybe for the first time, that she might have made a big mistake with her choice of the men.

She could already feel the attachment. The one thing she shouldn't have felt for them. She could be a brave, nice, caring and good Commander for them, but according to the Jedi's lessons she absolutely shouldn't feel what she felt now. And this wasn't even the first time that her heart hurt for those clones.

It wasn't fair, that this talkative clone-teenager looked almost as old as herself and even obviously enjoyed it, flirting with her, similarly like his more shy but mischievous brother Voice. And that one somehow managed to look big, but he was even younger than Text!

It wasn't fair that those intimidating Gen 1 clones, Forest and Source, were clone-biologically 22 years old, but looking 30 or more, just have seen real 11 years of life and most of that not even outside of Kamino. The rest of it basically from one death trap into the next.

It wasn't fair, that her still young Gen 2 Sergeant still emitted fear, when she would only turn into his direction, but then showed to her the stable and seasoned warrior, looking with his wide eyes straight at at some point over her face. She only knew that Sixoh had been thrown from Kamino directly into the Second Battle of Geonosis and then with the rest of Green Company into the dark void, serving on the Tranquility. Kamino and that was his whole life so far.

Padawan Eo knew Master Luminara Unduli and her fellow Padawan Barriss Offee. Whatever horrors Sixoh might have had to face, it couldn't have been them.

Text has calmed down and drew something on his datapad. Eo watched Forest tending the dying campfire. The seasoned clone's face neutral and his eyes on the last flames, the whole man quite a clone-untypical picture of deep thoughts, sitting barefoot in a deep squad like many of the wookies.

Heavy Gunner Voice got up, yawning and called it a night, startling poor skittish Sergeant Sixoh, as he patted on his shoulder from passing by behind him.

Source didn't look up from his datapad as the Sergeant next to him relaxed again with a sigh after Voice' sudden familiar gesture, but the ARC Trooper's facial features relaxed a bit and some of the face lines smoothened in the cold light of his datapad.

Then, without tilting his head or moving his face, he looked up, straight into Eo's eyes, catching her watching him.

The mikkian froze, as she was locked into the most direct and intense stare she received so far from a clone, or even generally. She blushed like a little girl. Force, nothing about this was fair.

She shook off her unsettlement, chuckled over her own reaction and held his glance with a smile. She was the Commander and she was in charge, no little girl at all! Eyes still locked, a hint of a smile played around Source' lips, so small that Eo wasn't sure if he even moved a face muscle.

The mikkian's tendrils coiled slightly. This felt like going into the absolutely wrong direction and sadly it's to her making it good again.

Flirting wasn't "forbidden", but before working together with clone troopers, all of the Jedi, together with the other nat-born GAR Admirals, Lieutenants and else, were basically reminded with cold Kaminoan words, that clones might look and behave like mature humans, but in the end they're trained war machines, the human nature carefully suppressed for their own wellbeing, meaning they had buried wishes and questions that shouldn't be stirred awake. Not a few Jedi fell their serenity out of their faces for a moment, Eo included. It felt like a nightmare to her.

Dank Farrik. This wasn't just awkward, this was the madness of war. And Eo was even more determined to become the best Commander her new clone trooper squad could have. They deserve as much life as she could provide them under her protection and she can't take that those five living souls, so bright and beautifully complex in the Force suffer, because of her mikkian- or whatever weak struggles, that keep her away from getting knighted.

She must give not less than her very best. She owes them.

The Commander nods at Source, standing up, trying to look tall and grounded. "Voice is right, let's get a bunch of sleep. Tomorrow we'll head out at 0900. Goodnight, troopers." The four remaining clones nodded back and did one of their weird cloned-voices choruses – "Good night, Sir".

She flashed a warm smile to them and turned away. Entering her tiny Commander tent, her heart felt heavy. She had to do her meditation before sleeping. Badly.

She had to sort herself properly, reminding herself that she's obligated to protect those brave men.

Also from herself.

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"The Source Code" beautiful readers that showed interest a loo00OOoong time ago 🤩🫶 @dumfanting @peggy7447

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