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The Force Wills - Chapter 121
🕑 Added 2025-02-28 12:32:12 +0000 UTCThe clone war raged on.
The notion of a potential peace summit or even the beginnings of negotiations, an idea that had begun circling around the Senate by a few idealistic senators and because of the war’s mounting costs, was firmly off the table with the events on Naboo.
As much as the funeral for those killed in the battle inside the palace was a local affair, Palpatine and COMPOR had made sure it was actively broadcasted throughout the Core and Inner Rim. The resulting anger and public outrage was especially visible on CSO and anti-Separatist sentiment was fueled to new heights.
Naboo might’ve been just another planet in Mid Rim in the past, but now as the homeworld of the Supreme Chancellor and the original flashpoint of the current galactic crisis, it had been elevated in the minds of many. The latest chapter in its saga had only put the planet more in the galactic spotlight.
COMPOR had also produced another bit of propaganda that was doing the rounds on the Holonet, that left me feeling quite conflicted.
It was a two part interlocking poster, by Donclode Onstruss - an artist, former Holonet node operator and now employed by COMPOR - which could be displayed together or apart depending on the viewer’s preference. One side was a rather handsome rendition of Anakin in his armor sans helmet, lightsaber angled diagonally across his body, viewed from a very low angle, his face looking ‘fiercely protective’ down upon the viewer. It was titled, ‘He Fights for You.’
The other part was me mirroring Anakin’s pose, whilst I was wearing my beskar’gam, again minus the helmet. However, the Armorer would clearly want to have a few stern words for Onstruss. As she’d never make a chest plate for a female Mandalorian that so perfectly cupped each breast. My face, lekku and montrals was also clearly referenced from a post-Mortis image, which was also idealized in a manner that whilst flattering was rather embarrassing. Its title was simply, ‘She Fights for You’. The reaction to both posters on CSO told me that Anakin and I were going to adorn the walls of many teenage boys and girls across the galaxy.
Admiral Yularen politely cleared his throat beside my command chair, “Commander.”
I swiped my datapad, dismissed the CSO tab and tapped its power button. “Yes, Admiral?”
“We’ve arrived at the rendezvous, our guests are requesting permission to land on Resolute.”
A few swipes through the holos in front of me, brought up a hi-res scan of a Nu-class attack/transport shuttle that had shed the last of its relative velocity and hovered over the dorsal spine of the Venator, waiting in the landing pattern.
“Permission granted and make sure Rex is escorting them to Briefing One, I’d like his personal evaluation afterwards.”
“At once, commander,” Yularen saluted and walked off to his own nearby chair, modelled on mine, which I’d had installed after getting a bit tired of the poor man having to stand whenever our duty shifts happen to coincide.
A few more swipes in the holos brought up the local sector map and my mind back to the conundrum that the Republic Navy faced in the south of the galaxy.
Resolute and Tempest was currently in the Darkknell system - a strategically important stop on the southern end of the Hydian hyperlane. Anakin with the Avenger was still on the return leg from Coruscant after having delivered Palpatine back to the Republic capital, which was still five days from returning.
These three ships were now part of the newly formed 42nd Fleet - which would eventually become an elite formation with only new-build Venators, which Kuat was already informally calling Venator IIs or ships built during the war, which fit in with the ever developing doctrines. We were still waiting for our first two Bastion support cruisers, but they would only arrive in three days.
How it got the number designation was either one of those supreme coincidences or the Force was poking me in the nose again.
I firmly put those thoughts away and returned to the tactical situation.
The front line between the Republic and CIS had been bouncing back and forth between Eriadu and Sullust on the Rimma Hyperlane for the past few months, with no conceivable end in sight.
Both systems had seen battle after battle, then skirmish after skirmish, with nothing decisive achieved. It was a figurative meatgrinder of clones, droids, starships and starfighters. When either side began seeing too many losses in capital ships, the losing side withdrew, only to throw fighters and bomber squadrons en-masse to stall and slow down any potential advance. At some point, that nominally victorious side also had to withdraw, as their numbers were whittled down and damaged to the point where they couldn’t consolidate any gain.
Eriadu and Sullust, especially around their primary planets, were choking under the resulting navigation hazards of battlespace debris. The job of salvage and cleaning the orbitals was practically a full time occupation for both planets at this point.
The Republic was just barely holding onto Eriadu at the moment and the latest pyrrhic victory for the GAR in the system was the reason Resolute and Tempest had been hurriedly tasked with reinforcing the frontline battlespace.
Ever since I had been ordered by the Council towards the southern front, I’d been brainstorming and researching ways to break the current tennis court paradigm that existed down here. It didn’t take long for me to run into the logistics wall that all the southern Republic forces had been bashing their heads against since the war’s beginning.
Things had been improving, with supply bases coming online that were within a day of the frontline battlespaces, old Mid rim shipyards being upgraded or reactivated to repair damaged ships and Kuat had even begun to license the Acclamator to be constructed in southern shipyards.
The first Mandator-II factory dreadnought or mothership had just finished primary assembly in Kuat, but it was still months away from even thinking about starting space trials. Even if it had been ready right now, I doubted the decision on where to send it would have come out in my favor to make a difference in the south.
With all the improvement and the herculean efforts by the Republic Navy and the military industrial complex, there are only so many hours in a day and building could only happen so fast, even with more and more outsourcing labor to Republic droids.
The truth was, that the south was very much the stepchild of the war. It had to be fought and resources would go there, but it played second fiddle in comparison to the battles towards the CIS’ critical northern regions.
For days I had also bashed my head against the problem.
That was until I received an official holomail from Kamino.
And the figurative lightbulb moment happened.
I turned my command chair around before standing, “Admiral, microjump to the system’s Oort Cloud. The bridge is yours.”
“I have the bridge,” he confirmed.
The bulkhead doors opened and I put on my helmet as I walked out.
Briefing One had seen some changes in the refits and improvements to the Resolute.
No more was it just a single large holotank arrayed in front of a small hall of seats for up to six squadrons of pilots at a time. Now the entire room was the holotank and the seats were modular, which when completely taken out would turn Briefing One into Command One - Resolute’s very own full immersion holo command room. It wouldn’t be used until Resolute was flagship of a much larger fleet, but it was very nice for the option to be there right now.
I walked into the front area of Briefing One, waved a hand through the air and a holo panel winked to life as I began preparing the room.
Rex was the first to enter a few minutes later, escorting my five guests.
“Commander Tano,” Rex saluted, as did four of my guests, whilst the fifth merely bowed her very long neck.
“Captain Rex,” I returned the salute and turned to the elegant female kaminoan. “Dr. Nala Se, a pleasure to meet you.”
“The honor is mine,” Se said smoothly. “Thank you for giving my proposal some consideration.”
I nodded, “In times such as these, we can’t afford to think inside the box. All ideas must be explored.”
“A commendable mindset, commander,” she stepped back and gestured to the four clones that had accompanied her. “As you can see, this team is as ‘out the box’ as our geneticists have ever gone with the Jango Fett template. Meet the specialist clones of batch CT-99.”
I smirked behind my helmet as I took in the obvious leader of the group, wearing the colors of a sergeant on his commando katarn armor, which was still relatively white and shiny. I folded my hands behind my back and stepped up to him. “Name, sergeant?”
“CT-9901, codename Hunter, commander,” said the clone. His expression of individuality was to wear his hair much longer than regulation would actually allow for in standard clone units, it was almost a mullet. I pushed forward with the Force, evaluating the soul before me and took in his medical condition as well. His health was generally stable, but I could immediately tell that the gene engineers had to make some clear compromises to achieve what they had done.
In Hunter, in addition to the general commando level upgrade package, they had integrated a new organ and extra bits of brain to manage it. It was almost akin to an old Earth shark’s EM sense.
The mind before me was straightforward, blunt, stoic, with only a mild sense of humor that would occasionally rise to the surface.
I reached out to the Force and induced a tiny burst of electricity behind Hunter, with no more voltage than what you’d run a datapad with.
He didn’t flinch, but the surprise and slight twitch of his eyes was enough for me to tell that he had clearly sensed it.
I moved on and the next clone I had to actually look up a distance to meet his eyes.
A normal clone generally had 1.8 meters in height with only minor variations. This one stood at just under two meters and was built like a dump truck. The chest of his custom katarn armor was massive and one of his arms was as thick as my thigh. His neck was like a tree trunk for his head. His only expression of individuality was to completely shave his head.
“CT-9903, Wrecker, commander,” said the clone with a gruff, much deeper voice than I was used to.
I couldn’t help but ask. “Out of curiosity, Corporal Wrecker, just how much can you bench press?”
The clone couldn’t help the boisterous smile that blossomed on his face, “I regularly do sets of 355 kilos, commander, but I’m sure I could do more.”
“Impressive,” I nodded. “How fast are you?”
“Reflexes and speed just as good as any of these lot, commander,” Wrecker jerked his head to his fellow commando clones. “Wouldn’t be much good if I couldn’t.”
Yes, but like the other clones, his metabolic activity had to be pushed to compensate. Energy didn’t come from nowhere and every member of CT-99 had to eat more than a normal trooper and the diet had to be specific. If they were ever in a survival situation or on supply rationing, they’d be in trouble. There was also the problem of lifespan and I would bet my beskar’gam that all of them were projected with half the lifespan of a standard Fett clone, which was already barely a quarter of a standard human lifespan.
The next clone of CT-99 was more conventional, but he stood out for entirely different reasons; slightly shorter and leaner than even his normal clone brothers. He wore rounded lenses that could be mistaken for ancient corrective spectacles, as if he was short sighted. His katarn armor lacked thigh and upper leg protections, leaving the black undersuit visible there, but otherwise it was also lit up like a Lifeday tree to my technometric senses. He had a lot of computing power in his armor, with a multitude of interfaces on his vambraces.
“M8, any active scans from him?” I subvocalized.
“No mistress, his katarn armor is quite impressive, though naturally it can’t come close to my performance.”
“I’m CT-9902, also called Tech, commander.”
Tech’s eyes were bright and he definitely had a younger appearance than a matured Fett clone. It was as if the kaminoans stopped the accelerated aging in his early 20s.
I waved my hand through the air and a holographic screen appeared in front of Tech, whose fascinated eyes immediately gleamed in amazement before locking onto the contents of the screen. The HUD specs over his eyes lit up and flickered with Aurebesh characters.
“What do you make of this, Tech?” I asked him.
He took that as permission to break parade rest and his hands immediately reached towards the screen and began swiping on it, to scroll the data.
“Fascinating, stream cipher, no, no, inversion, ah, cryptographic sequence there, trying to hide are you?” he muttered. With a few taps, he brought up an interface in a completely brand new system he hadn’t even worked with before. He also began working with a pad integrated on his vambrace. “Definitely CIS, never seen this schema before though, new? Maybe. Convert the tangent…”
Barely a minute passed before he had the encrypted data resolved into a readable format. It was fascinating watching Tech’s mind at work. His genetics had clearly been geared to become a savant level intellect, whilst his formative training went into all forms of programming and military tech related fields. Nala Se had essentially made a Mentat from Dune and then given him wearable computers to further boost that ability.
“Well done, Tech. What you just solved was last month’s CIS comlink encryption. It took an entire department in Republic Intelligence and a specialist analysis droid a week to crack what you just did in a minute.”
“Thank you, commander. CIS should really up its game. Barely a challenge,” babbled Tech, before catching himself and returning to attention.
I walked down the line to the final member of CT-99.
He was taller and more slender than regular Fett clone, though had much more physicality than Tech. He had a head full of short hair, but had decided to bleach it. His face also had much sharper features than Jango Fett’s.
“CT-9904, Crosshair,” said the commando shortly.
“No points for guessing what your specialty is,” I said sarcastically.
Crosshair didn’t react outwardly, but I could feel his caustic attitude from a mile away. He didn’t like his fellow squad mates, only tolerated them. His feelings to me were nebulous, but as a superior officer, he regarded my word as law.
“No, commander.”
“What’s your weapon, soldier?”
“A Firepuncher, ma’am.”
“Didn’t think those were ready yet,” I idly mused.
Whilst the DC-15X sniper had served admirably thus far in the war, it had been conceived and built pre-war and its problems and limitations in the field were quickly apparent. Its sheer size and limited ammo made for difficult handling, as was its lack of versatility in a quickly changing battlefield. Snipers among the ARC troopers did their best with it, but it was the reports from commandos who had finally inspired a change and the GAR went to Merr-Sonn Munitions with updated requirements in a sniper weapon system.
The 501st’s ARC snipers were all due to receive the 773 Firepuncher in the next few months and from the specs I had seen the thing was a beast.
“Nala Se managed to acquire one from the first production run, commander.”
“Then I hope you will be up for a demonstration in the Resolute’s training bay.”
“Absolutely, ma’am. Whenever you order it.”
“Excellent. Space has been made available to you in trooper country, we’ll have a joint training session in six hours. Dismissed.”
All four commandos saluted simultaneously and marched out the room.
When the door to Briefing One hissed shut behind them, I made a visible gesture towards it for the benefit of Rex and Nala Se; putting the room on lockdown and activating various EM white noise features and scrambling systems to prevent eavesdropping.
“We can talk freely without Tech listening now.”
“What do you mean, commander?” Rex asked.
“He slipped in a spy program into the briefing room’s systems while he was decoding the CIS encryption. You did quite well on that one, Nala Se. If you could give me an entire company of clones like him, we’d practically win the electronic war against the CIS on every battlefield we step onto.”
Nala Se slightly bowed her long neck in acknowledgement of my praise, her large black eyes radiating satisfaction. “He was actually the most difficult of the four to modify and stabilize into a workable clone. The interplay of genetics and intelligence is incredibly complex even for the best kaminoan gene-engineers. Making more clones like CT-9902 will be incredibly time consuming.”
Of course it will be, so you can make more money, I thought with a sneer.
“What’s your read on them, Rex?”
The veteran ARC captain of the 501st took a moment before shaking his head, “They’re shinies with extra features attached, which also comes with their own problems. What those problems are we’ll soon see, but I can already tell that keeping them on-task will be a chore. Tech’s little trick to spy on us means he wants all the information regardless of classification or whether he needs to know at all. Wrecker will destroy and ask questions later. Crosshair holds himself apart from the other three and is always in the rear, typical for a sniper, but I saw the way he looked at me and the other troopers on the way up. He does not like us at all. Hunter is the only one of the four I’d say offhand could fit into any ARC squad on the 501st. He considers the others a team and leads as a sergeant should.”
“I assure you that my procedures for managing CT-99 and making them an effective commando team will bear fruit if followed, commander,” said Nala Se, largely dismissing Rex’s observations. Typical.
“That remains to be seen, Nala Se,” I said, folding my arms. “Did any other Jedi Generals or commanders respond to your message advertising CT-99?”
“There was some interest, but no commitments in the timeframe required,” she said delicately.
Translation: Her little pet project was getting attention from her bosses and she needed to justify the resources invested quickly before they pulled the plug. My firm ‘yes’ and close proximity in the southern galactic reaches meant she jumped on the first shuttle to the Resolute as quickly as she could with CT-99 in tow.
“I see. Do you think I can take those four on a mission behind enemy lines and not have it blow up in my face, Nala Se?”
“They will perform beyond your expectations, Commander Tano.”
“For your sake, I hope they do,” I said knowingly. “Are you going to be staying on Resolute? Observe their performance in the field?”
“I trust that your reports will be comprehensive enough, Commander.”
Force forbids a kaminoan of her stature and intelligence risks her own skin. “Very well. Rex, see that Doctor Se finds her shuttle and join me in the training bay.”
“Yes, commander.”
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“Tech, no,” Hunter said forcefully.
“But-”
“No, we’re finally being given a chance here and you want to slice the entire ship already.”
He ushered Tech away from a droid logic port and politely pushed him down the corridor, to catch up with the bemused form of Wrecker and disapproving stare of Crosshair.
“You can’t tell me you’re not curious.”
“We’ll get to know everything we need to, when the time is right and nothing more,” Hunter said sternly to his excitable teammate.
“Oh come on, this is the Resolute! One of the most decorated ships in the GAR. I bet there’s all sorts of juicy details of all her battles in the databanks…”
Hunter sighed in frustration, but he had to concede that point to Tech. Being onboard a combat ship finally as a deployed unit, especially one as prestigious as Resolute, was a dream come true for a non-standard commando unit like theirs. His greatest fear had been that they would be forever cursed to spend their days on Kamino, stuck in the commando program, acting as opposition force in training the standard commandos to go out into the galaxy. Now at last, they were out there, on the home of the 501st Clone Legion, the Resolute.
“I bet you that our new commander is going to strip your gadgets for that little stunt you pulled in the briefing room,” Wrecker chuckled, grabbing Tech around the shoulders and rubbing his big knuckles in a rather painful fashion over the smaller clone’s scalp.
Tech scowled and suffered through the attention of his teammate, with a resigned air. The dangerous glint in his eyes promised some form of retribution that Hunter could tell immediately would cause some form of havoc. On Kamino, that would’ve been one thing, but out here on a working starship at war, it wouldn’t be tolerated.
“I still don’t understand how that didn’t work,” Tech scratched his chin in thought after Wrecker put him down. “Clearly non-standard counter-surveillance systems that are hidden somehow in the ship’s data networks.”
“Did you somehow forget that Commander Tano is also a Jedi,” Crosshair said dryly, rolling his eyes. “She sensed your duplicity when you were cracking that clanker code and acted accordingly.”
Tech scowled, “Of course I didn’t forget. That’s… Oh, but how did she… no. Could she… no that’s impossible… Anyway, the training bay should be at the next left.”
The four commandos turned the corner and found a large bulkhead door, which was open and had a squad of ARC troopers walking into it. The space beyond was quite familiar to them; a variable, modular training room, but as this had to fit in the constrained environment of a starship it was only a singular space about fifty meters in length and twenty in height. It was currently set up in a marksmanship configuration with training targets floating idly about.
“Great, a room full of regs,” Crosshair scoffed.
“Do remember we’ll be sharing space with these brothers, Crosshair,” Hunter thumped a finger into his fellow commando’s chest.
“Let’s get this over with, I just hope our new commander doesn’t take too long.”
They fell into step behind the ARC squad and entered the training bay. It didn’t take long for the troopers to spot and recognize the four obvious commandos in their mist. The squad’s lieutenant barking orders to step up to their positions kept the troopers from approaching CT99.
Soon the air was filled with the snapping high pitched reports of a dozen ARC troopers shooting their DC15s in training mode against the rapidly adjusting remotes.
Hunter had to admit, he was impressed with what he saw. The remotes were definitely on their highest difficulty settings and it was a rare occasion when any of the ARCies missed a shot. When a shot was missed, the trooper responsible would immediately put down his rifle and do thirty push ups on the spot, before resuming his training.
“Well, that’d certainly motivate anyone to improve,” Wrecker nodded in approval.
The next exercise the troopers did was on an individual basis, where the entire bay became a winding obstacle course. Each trooper had to fight the remotes whilst rushing through the course, competing against the clock. It was a clear evolution of a similar exercise that cadet clones went through, but this one was more difficult by an order of magnitude; with greater volumes of hostile fire from odd angles and even the ‘terrain’ would randomly change, intended to simulate changing battlefield conditions. To make it even worse, the remotes were not firing gentle stun bolts either or immobilization shots, but rather a bolt that actually induced a high level of pain.
“Quite unpleasant,” commented Tech as a trooper got hit in the leg whilst he was vaulting over a low obstacle. It was bad enough that the trooper lost his balance completely and rolled over the floor. Hunter could tell in the body language that it hurt a lot, but the trooper was fighting through it to stand, to keep moving and fighting. The remotes didn’t pause or wait, they just kept zipping around and shooting.
In this exercise, when a trooper was ‘killed’, it ended the run completely.
“Did they steal these exercises from us?” Wrecker smirked, he looked very eager to try his hand at it.
The commando program had a similar philosophy to training as was being demonstrated here; Hunter didn’t think it had been adopted across the GAR.
In the end, only two of the twelve ARC troopers managed to get through the course and of those two, only one didn’t have a simulated wound.
“All right, that’s definitely an improvement all round,” said the lieutenant, to his wincing troops. “We’re nipping on the heels of Alpha company, but we will not rest until we are leaving them in our dust! Is that understood, Gamma?”
“YES SIR!”
“Sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen.”
Hunter did his best not to flinch with surprise, but sure enough, Commander Tano was now suddenly moving out of his left blind spot. A hover sled entered the bay behind her, holding familiar chests with CT99s custom weapons and other gear.
“Commander,” he saluted in reflex, as did the other three.
“At ease!” her voice boomed and Hunter spotted that the ARC squad had also immediately saluted at her presence. “Are you finished, Lt. Bones?”
“Just about, commander!”
“Good, then finish up and give me the room.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turned to him, “Arm yourselves, CT99.”
“At once, ma’am.” Hunter saluted quickly and all four of them hurried towards their respective war chests.
He had his DC-17m in hand and popped on his helmet to begin the sync process between the modular weapon and the katarn armor. His vibro knife went into its holster on his hip and finally a bandoleer of power packs. His weapon was currently in carbine mode, but he’d wait for the commander’s orders to maybe change that to rifle mode.
With all four commandos armed and ready for anything, Tano made a brief inspection of each of them.
She stopped at Crosshair though. “Your weapon, corporal.”
The sniper was visibly reluctant to hand over his precious Firepuncher, but obeyed the order after putting on the safety.
Tano took the weapon and seemed to easily mold herself around it, her hands moving with assured speed and familiarity. If Hunter didn't know better, he’d say that she was an old hand with it.
She turned around, aiming down the scope sight, shifting left and right, getting a feel for it.
Six remotes came to life and began zipping about randomly with a speed that was frankly ridiculous.
The Firepuncher had a low energetic whine, the weapon’s residual noise reduced significantly with the forward suppressor.
Tano fired six times and hit six times.
All the remotes fell down in their deactivated state.
“Very nice,” she commented, the satisfied smile clear in her tone and handing the weapon back to its owner. “The bolt is even tuned to be less visible to droid optical scans. They’ll struggle to triangulate your position even as you unload on them. The onboard scanner even lets you see through walls to a degree. Looking forward to seeing you use this, Crosshair.”
“I will not disappoint, commander.”
She nodded, “Good. Now, as much as I wish we could have at least a week of familiarization training, the enemy has not given us that luxury. We have less than three days before the Resolute and her fleet must advance into the Eriadu system, which is still being heavily contested. In that time, we are going to train for the mission I brought you here for. Your gear and armor will also get a few upgrades that I think you’ll enjoy and will bring crucial tactical capabilities. In training together, you’ll also see what abilities in the Force I bring to the table, so there’ll be no surprises. I don’t want your heads shot off because you’re too busy gawking as I bury a squad of clankers using a slab of durasteel I ripped off a wall.”
Hunter wanted to groan as he perceived Wrecker swell with sheer glee at the thought of witnessing that or even trying to imitate the feat.
“As a Jedi I perceive much more than you do. That was no doubt covered by Master Shaak Ti in her courses with you. I will repeat that and make it more simple. If I tell you to go somewhere that makes no sense, if I tell you to duck, move somewhere or aim in a direction, don’t think about it, just do it. Is that understood, CT99?”
They chorused immediately. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Any hesitation could mean not just your death, but also your squadmate’s death or a complete failure of the mission. You are not just Republic Commandos. Your abilities make you even potentially more capable of getting into and out of a situation that would see your brother’s dead. Therefore the missions you’ll get will be considered suicide to conventional wisdom. Where I expect a commando to engage an entire squad of droids by himself with no sweat, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll engage entire companies of the enemy with no hesitation and come home. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Crosshair, what’s the furthest you’ve engaged a target at?”
“Six kilometers, commander.”
“Bah,” she scoffed dismissively. “The Firepuncher has a lethal range of fifteen. Let me guess, you think it's impossible to be still enough for accurate shots at that range. Listen to what I say and when I’m through with you, you’ll be making ten click shots on the regular without computer assistance.”
“Yes, commander.”
Hunter had never heard Crosshair speak in such a near reverent tone at the sheer thought of making shots at that range. He could even hardly imagine it.
“Tech, you are clearly the smartest person in this room. What you are not, is prudent or wise. That is something only time and shed blood can really teach. Your skills are what will often be the difference between life and death for this entire team. Whether that crucial bulkhead or door will open on time or not. Whether you can slice the elevator, even though there’s a brand new CIS encryption stopping you. Your mind is clearly capable but I think you still need some more backup in that department. That is why we’re going to upgrade your armor with an integrated droid intelligence specializing in analysis and code breaking.”
“But- but- I-”
Commander Tano tilted head, the shaped visor of her Mandalorian helmet seemed to gleam in the overhead light with a sinister glint. Her entire bearing became predatory, if Hunter had to give it word. Now that he looked closer, he could see she was wearing actual high grade beskar plating, which probably laughed at any clanker blaster shot that managed to sneak through the defense of her lightsabers.
Kriffing hell, he thought.
“Y- yes, commander.” Tech visibly nodded.
“Besides, I’m sure you and ED-8G will get along swimmingly in no time.” Tano stepped up to Wrecker, taking in his armor and gear. “I see you are the team demolitionist.”
“Yes, ma’am. If something can blow up, it will when you let me loose on it,” Wrecker slapped his fist in his palm with eagerness.
She chuckled, clearly appreciating the big clone’s spirit. “There isn’t much specific that we’ll do to improve your performance in the field, but given we’ll be adding a flight system to your katarn armors, that will go a long way to aid your general mobility.”
“Flight, commander? Like Jumptroopers?”
“No, like this.”
She took a few steps back and from her armor’s feet… thrust just erupted from a seemingly hidden jet.
Between one blink and the next she rocketed into the air with controlled flight, making a tight turn and a loop up to the ceiling of the training bay.
She threw her hands and feet forward, coming to a smooth stop and just hovered there. Now he also saw there were small thrusters that had emerged from her vambraces for directional thrust.
She smoothly pulled her arms back and came to an easy landing exactly where she had taken off from.
“That’s like a Mandalorian jetpack flight,” Hunter commented.
“Correct, Hunter. I doubt we’ll be able to get you all flight ready after your armors receive the upgrades. It’s not easy, but you will at least be able to act as a jump trooper, with no need for ascension guns or climbing equipment.”
She stopped in front of him. “I’ve read all of Nala Se’s documentation on you. Your electromagnetic sense is something that lets you detect droids at 30 meters, correct?”
“In favorable conditions, yes, commander.”
“You will be joining Crosshair to get some extra training from me. The better you can control your own mind and body, the better that sense will become. I suspect with time we can increase the effective range of your EM sense and give you more ‘resolution’ to interpret what you are sensing.”
She took a few steps back and two lightsabers were in her hands, which erupted into brilliant life, one blade was void black with ghostly motes of white all along its length, whilst the other was a brilliant emerald.
“We will now run through this course together. Unlike the one you saw the ARC troopers run, this one is entirely dynamic and we will have no idea how it will change. Our goal is simple, to survive at least five laps without getting hit. We can use any skills and our equipment to survive, except explosives. Wrecker, I’d like to still have a ship after we’re done.”
Wrecker laughed gaily, unlatching his DC17 eagerly.
“Ready?”
Hunter brought his own weapon to hand and saw the entire training bay come alive with movement as the course was built by the modular boxes and dozens of remotes streamed into the space.
“Go!”
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Hunter had thought he knew what training was.
For years, when the old Mando instructors had established the training for the clones and especially for the clone commandos, he had thought it was the pinnacle that any fighting force in the galaxy could be. Then when the war actually started, the reports and returning veteran clones were further used to refine the training.
When CT99 was established by Nala Se, Hunter had at first thought there was some mistake. He had always known his EM sense was different and that none of his brothers on Kamino had it. The truth that from his very inception in the tanks, he’d been her ‘experiment’, was something of a gut punch. He’d been looking forward to just joining the ranks of the commandos, going out into the galaxy and killing clankers in the most dangerous missions on offer.
He’d been introduced to Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker, more experiments like him and promptly told the lead them.
He liked to think that he’d done right by them as circumstances allowed. They were put to work, simulating high level enemy opposition against the commandos.
They kept on building their skills, running sims of actual battles that were occurring in the galaxy.
It wasn’t the real thing, but thankfully the clanker attack on Kamino had allowed CT99 to actually carve a lot of notches on their armor.
Now they were finally on the front lines and were being practically tortured by a Mandalorian Jedi.
Three days of running all manner of nightmare scenarios in the Resolute’s training bay.
Fighting a company of simulated B2 ACMs in a confined space, along with droideka support.
An entire brigade of B1s in open field combat and tank support.
Then the hated enemy of commando droids, something that CT99 usually enjoyed fighting, except this time they had holographic disguise systems and had infiltrated among a civilian population.
“A recent development,” Commander Tano had explained. “I have an example of the technology. Hunter, you will learn to sense it by its specific EM signature. We’ll also be using it in certain infiltration missions in the future.”
If the hours in the training bay wasn’t enough, the specific mental training she was giving to Crosshair and him was baffling and left him feeling like his brain was getting too big for his own skull.
“These techniques I want you to practice at least for an hour before you sleep and immediately when you wake up.”
On the second day, they repeated some of ‘bloodless battles’, as she called it, but with DC15s, clanker weaponry and awful blasters that looked like they were salvaged from a scrapheap, only wearing their armor’s undersuit.
“Never know when these might be your only weapon. When you are behind enemy lines, cut off from resupply or even trying to escape from capture.”
On the third day, their armor was back, but with the new additions Tano had promised.
Flying with the katarn armors was not easy and of the four members of CT99, Crosshair seemed to do the best, and Tech struggled the most. He was only saved from a nasty fall by his new integrated droid taking over control in one of their first flight training sessions.
ED-8G was a talkative droid but only had the patience to speak to Tech. Hunter gave up trying to understand the rapid jargon speak the two would do during the slicing simulations and just accepted that there would now be a new member of CT99.
“The Avenger along with three Bastion cruisers has joined us,” said Commander Tano as they gathered together in Briefing One on their fourth day aboard Resolute. She gestured around her at the life sized hyperspace map of the local sector that was surrounding them in holographic form. “We will jump to hyper as soon as some logistical transfers from Avenger are completed to the other ships. I want you to use the one day journey to Eriadu to relax, recharge and recuperate to be ready. The moment the fleet leaves hyper we will leave aboard a cloaked scout ship and make the journey to our target.”
Her hand grabbed the hologram, advancing the view beyond the small representation of the Eriadu system, going further south into enemy territory until the focus stopped on the Bith system.
The view zoomed in until the system in question was sprawled out in high resolution in front of them.
A single star that mostly radiated in a brilliant white color, surrounded by six planets and an asteroid field in the outer periphery of the system.
In the seventh orbital position was the planet Bith itself, with the asteroid field occupying where a sixth planet should’ve been.
Tano made a grabbing gesture at the planet and it zoomed in further, until the focus was on the extensive orbital infrastructure and…
“Our target, gentlemen, the main Bith orbital shipyards.”
It was not the largest shipyard in the galaxy, but it was still a compound, interconnected structure that measured eighty kilometers in general diameter and hundred in height. Dozens of docks and stations connected to shipyards, in a massive cone shaped arrangement, hanging in high orbit over the planet.
“As you can see, the Separatists are using it as a forward repair yard that supports the frontline battlespace, but it can also build brand new Munificent star frigates and Recusant light destroyers which is supported by the droid foundries of Mustaphar and Adarlon.
“Right now the battle lines are very thin for both sides, after the recent battles in Eriadu. The Bith shipyard is completely packed with Separatist ships being repaired, scrapped for parts or being built from scratch. Our job is to sabotage the shipyards.”
Wrecker couldn’t help himself, “Blowing up something that big? Count me in, commander!”
Tano shook her head, but her amusement was clear in her body language. “No, Wrecker. We are not destroying the entire shipyard. Sabotage in this case, means we are going to cause enough damage with precise explosive charges and computer slicing to deliver viruses. There is too much redundancy in the shipyard infrastructure, their power cores are relatively small and widely distributed, with no convenient single point of failure that can be used to destroy the complex.
“Our intent is to delay repair operations and keep them too busy repairing the shipyard, instead of the ships themselves. It’s likely that we’ll end up destroying a number of berthed enemy ships, so don’t fear. You’ll get your fill of very satisfying explosions.”
Hunter inwardly groaned in despair. Wrecker was looking at the commander like she had just become his favorite person in the galaxy. He had been the one clone the kaminoans had been very glad to finally see leave the planet, after the mess he had made of many demolition training areas. One whole section of Tipoca City had been flooded after Wrecker had underestimated the yield of one of his cobbled-together devices.
Tano brought up a holopanel and with a few taps, the view zoomed in and various points were highlighted in the shipyard complex.
“Thankfully, we still have detailed blueprints from Republic inspections of the shipyards. The last one was five years ago and scouts returned just last week with covert scan results. We will likely not be surprised by any major structural changes. The highlighted areas in red are the specific fusion reactors, which we will either blow up, meltdown or infect with a virus. The green areas are computer databases which we will corrupt - with those scrambled it’ll cause severe disruption in work scheduling or knowing which ship needs what or what even is wrong with the ships in the associated berths.”
A dozen Munificents flashed blue. “These we want to blow up with sabotaged reactors, along with the three Lucrehulks delivering supplies. We will go over detailed tactical planning en route to Bith. Questions?”
Hunter looked at his teammates and found only a clear eagerness on their faces. No matter how crazy the odds were, they wanted this and he’d be lying to himself if he were to say otherwise. If they were successful in this mission, they’d have killed more clankers in a single blow than most clones would see in their lifetimes.
“None, commander,” Hunter said firmly.
“Good, meet me in Docking Bay One, one hour before we arrive in Eriadu. Dismissed.”
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Being ordered to ‘relax’, before the mission meant that CT99 could for the first time see the sights aboard the Resolute and potentially mingle with the troopers of the 501st.
Tech and Wrecker immediately went to the engineering spaces and to pay their respects to the ship’s quartermaster. Whilst Crosshair, after speaking to a few navy clones, found the most sparsely populated and quiet spot on the ship to spend his new pastime that the commander had introduced them to - meditation.
Docking Bay One in the very nose of the Resolute was indeed a place that few ever had cause to visit and was just the place for those who wanted a bit of solitude.
Hunter ended up joining his taciturn teammate on the long walk to that part of the ship and realized that the gossip channels on ship were even worse than in Tipoca City.
Every brother clone that passed in the corridor looked at them with a mixture of confusion, awe and on one or two occasions, visible disgust.
He put those reactions out of his mind, ignored the fact that his body was seated in an empty landing bay, ignored Crosshair and instead focused inward towards his EM sense.
If anyone asked him to put into words how he experienced electromagnetics, he would say, ‘Imagine seeing wind at a distance, a wind that blows around every source of power in an area in indescribably beautiful and complex patterns.’
“I don’t think we’re going to be spending much time on this ship,” Crosshair said abruptly into the low background din of the Resolute travelling in hyperspace.
“What makes you say that?” Hunter asked, burying his annoyance at the interruption.
“You saw the reactions of the regs. We’re too different from them. It won’t be long before they start poking at us for it and you know what Wrecker’s reaction will be.”
Hunter scowled, “Can you please stop calling them regs?” He knew it was a pointless argument they had rehashed many times, but he was the leader of this team and he had to try.
“It’s what they are. We are not them. Wrecker will overreact and send the foolish reg to the medical bay. I don’t have to explain what happens next.”
“Our new commander will have no choice but to discipline him. Depending on the severity, it’ll either land Wrecker in detention for a week or maybe even in front of a firing squad. She has to maintain the discipline and morale of an entire legion, she can’t afford to show favoritism.”
“Precisely,” Crosshair said smoothly. “It’s why our little team was always carefully kept out of sight by Nala Se in our own little sector of Tipoca City.”
Hunter slapped his own thigh in annoyance, “Would it kill you to be optimistic for once, Crosshair?”
“No, it wouldn’t, but I see the universe as it is, not as you wish it to be.”
The team sniper closed his eyes and returned to his attempts at meditation.
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By some miracle, Crosshair’s prediction hadn’t yet occurred by the time they reported for duty.
Overnight, Docking Bay One had received the ship they would be using and Hunter had to admit…
“What a beauty,” said Wrecker, staring at the ship’s sleek yet aggressive lines. It had a short angled wing above the dorsal hull, with long port and starboard wings that would unfold outwards to the ventral. The ship’s hull was void black and didn’t seem to have any weapons, but Tech quickly pointed out hidden bays in the hull which implied that the ship had defenses.
Tech held up his arm, scanning the ship and tapping rapidly on a vambrace interface, “30 by 36 meters. Two obvious hidden heavy cannons, rear missile launcher, wingtip rapid fire cannons-”
“The latest purpose built scout class from Cygnus,” Commander Tano interrupted, pulling her own war chest behind her as she walked into the bay.
CT99 snapped to attention.
“At ease,” she gestured a hand towards the ship, which began to hum with life as power systems started, internal lights came on and the small embarkation ramp lowered. “It’s officially called an Omicron class and while it’s a scout, it also has some teeth and dedicated systems to accommodate and support commandos on deep strike assignments. With a low enough crew, the onboard consumables will stretch for three months. Get yourselves aboard, pick your bunks and stow gear.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Inside, Hunter found that space was clearly at a premium, the ship was designed around a maximum of twelve passengers including the crew. The bunks were separated into two main sleeping cabins, which meant plenty of space for CT99 to stretch out into. The question just remained of who would be sharing.
He found the commander in the front cockpit, going through the ship checklists with the calm precision of a practiced pilot.
“Have a seat, Hunter, you’re all pilot qualified, but you have the most stick time.”
He slipped into the co-pilot seat and scanned the layout in front of him. It was a mix of actual physical controls, interface screens and interactive holographics, but it hadn’t deviated too much from the control schema all clones were taught from their youth.
“Anything specific you want me to watch out for, commander?”
She grabbed a holo out of thin air and chucked it, which unfolded into a screen in front of him. “Cloaking device specs and use. I’ll handle the first few times, but I want you to be proficient as soon as possible.”
It was clearly something that Tech would also look at, but he’d bet his new armor that his teammate was already deep in the guts of the ship’s small engineering bay.
He had barely gotten halfway through the manual before…
“Resolute is coming out of hyper, CT99, get yourselves strapped in.”
The commander grabbed hold of the yoke and began the final startup.
The ship whined as engines began spooling to operational capacity.
Then a small shudder reverberated throughout the ship as the Venator entered normal space in Eriadu.
“Resolute flight control, this is Omicron 193, request departure.”
“193, departure green, you have priority,” came the response over the com. “Force be with you, Snips.”
“And you, master.”
The ship rose slightly above the deck, angled its nose forward and hovered into the Resolute’s central spine.
Only a single forward spinal segment door opened to expose the black of space.
Tano angled and yawed the ship towards it and pushed on the throttle.
“Hyperspace in 3…”
Hunter felt his stomach want to crawl into his throat.
‘Hyperspace? We aren’t even out of the ship yet!’
“...2…”
The scout lurched forward, accelerating hard enough to…
“...1…”
He glanced through the side transparisteel, seeing the giant hull of the Resolute disappear just as the commander pushed forward on the hyperdrive motivator.
The acceleration into hyper pushed him slightly back in his seat as the infinite blue tunnel of the other dimension engulfed the ship.
“Nice, glad to know that works.”
Hunter stared with wide eyes at her. “You mean…”
“Hyperdrive on this ship is precise enough to allow for jumps like that and not rip or warp the carrier ship’s hull. Allows for quick hyper deployment even in the middle of contested space.”
“And that was the first time it’s ever been done?” Hunter struggled to keep his voice calm.
“No, well, it’s the first time I’ve done it.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Relax, if you’re going to be around me or General Skywalker, you better get used to it. The 501st is not called the tip of the spear for nothing.”
“Yes… commander.”
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A/N: The Bad Batch at the beginning, it was quite fun imagining it, their origins and how Ahsoka could influence their career and equipment in the war going forward. Have a great weekend folks and stay awesome!
Comments
Teddy
what happened to the dark saber when she first showed it to the council it was white with hints of black and now it's reversed? unless I just don't remember correctly.....
Mr.Paranoid
I am afraid that the 'issue' will be an invasion. Palpy doesn't want strong Mandalorians.
Keiran's Futurism and Fantasy
I write a set amount of words/pages per day.
Keiran's Futurism and Fantasy
Ahsoka has been remotely handling her Mandalorian affairs via holo mostly, it's just the boring day-to-day drudgery that doesn't merit featuring with 'screentime'. Then she can also remote pilot a holodroid. Soon there will be issues that need her there in person. As for Discord, while I have an account for personal gaming stuff, I don't have a server. I've given some thought to creating one, but the use case with regard to time I have available to police/moderate it just isn't there.
Mark
Hey are we going to get more Mando stuff soon also do you have a discord?
Joe
Not going to ly very much looking forward to this arc.
Mark
Hey do you write a chapter all at once or do you write it in small parts through out the week like 2k works a day or something and then post it?
Mark
Bad batch pog very nice chapter
