Private Man out of time

[Luna Terrik]

M Y S T E RY

Location: Kooriva, The Lionhearted
Time: 1900 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, BAW-89 Carbine Rifle, Tactical Recon Handgun (2)
Tags: | CT-8429 |

“Alright….let’s test this again. Fire the left batteries, full spread, point three percent yield.”

The sounds of the bridge echoing around the Grand Marshal graced her ears as the order was carried out, moment’s before the viewport she stood at flashed with a green hue as the batteries opened up. They were a sight to behold, something that would’ve put the former hellspears to shame. This was the first real time that the Dauntless had had a chance to test out the weaponry on their new carrier, gifted to them by the current Grand Marshal of the navy, Amelia von Sorenn , as they had been unlucky enough to not have The Lionhearted during the slaughtering at Dantooine.

What Luna would’ve given to have this beast of a ship during that battle would eclipse even the towers back at Camp Phoenix.

“Weapons at ninety eight point six percent efficiency, ma’am.” The deck officer called out, prompting Luna to turn and look toward where the man was sitting. Despite the former cruise ship’s impressive upgrades, there was, as there always were, kinks to work out with a new ship. Namely those of the main turbolaser batteries on the left side of the ship. Something seemed to be clogging their efficiency, a problem that the engineers had had their hands full working on the entire night. It was the officers on the deck that brought forth the idea that firing said batteries might lend a hint to what was going on, something that Luna agreed to upon the idea being brought to her attention.

They had paused their journey near the planet of Kooriva, deciding that the uninhabited planet and space around it would make an excellent place to figure out the problem. Having been at it all morning, however, Luna found herself quickly tiring of an issue that was so minute in detail, it could easily be figured out once they made it back to camp Phoenix. It was more of an allowance to the officers than anything else, letting them not only test out the batteries but many orders that would be useful should the ship ever see battle. If they figured out the issue, it was only an added bonus, at least in her mind.

However, with the tests having been occurring for well over four hours now, the novelty was coming to an end, and Luna turned to the current, temporary, captain with a slightly annoyed look pulling at her lips. “Last one for the day, captain. We’re headed home after this, understood?” Her answer came in the form a curt salute as he turned from where the Grand Marshall glared to look down into the firing pit, contemplating on what their final test should be.

The idea soon dawned on him, however, and his voice boomed through the bridge a final time. “Lads, you heard the marshall, last test of the day. Full spread, all batteries, point eight percent yield.” Luna turned from where the man stood, looking back out the viewport. They flashed green once more, and the final shots from the ship slowly floated their way through the inky blackness of space, never to be seen again..

At least, that’s what she expected, knew should happen.

Instead…one of the lasers..hit something. It didn’t appear as though they had struck a cloaked vessel of any kind, but instead, as if space itself opened up and consumed the laser. Within moments, where the shot had disappeared ripped itself open and what Luna could only gather to be lightning snaked across space. Before they even had time to raise the shields, the tear suddenly closed itself back up as quickly as it had once been open.

And all that was left was a strange, darkened shuttle with markings on it that Luna…couldn’t make out whatsoever. “Captain,” she said, turning to look toward the man. “What do you make of it?” For a moment, there was no answer, as it looked as though he was just as confused and shocked as she was at what had just occurred. After a moment, however, it seemed as though his voice came back to him.

“I’m..not sure.” He looked to a nearby screen, eyes scouring over the data coming in from the sensors running over the delict shuttle. “But what I can tell you..is that there’s two lifeforms aboard that ship.” Luna’s puzzled look only grew at the revelation, turning to once again look toward the shuttle with a curious eye. What in the kark was happening? Who was this? And why was this a ship design that she had never even seen before?

Despite the questions running through her mind, she still had the awareness to slowly bring up her wrist, speaking into the comm implanted into her armor. Her voice was still, resolute, yet tinged with a curiosity that was beginning to grow. “Omega’s..load up. We have a mystery to unravel.”

 

[CT-8429]

Tag: Luna Terrik |


The silence was wrong. The deaf clone trooper had felt an element of stillness in his reality for many years...found peace in it, even. But the stillness that enveloped him now was different. Encapsulating.

When you lose one of your senses, the greatest pain at first is stumbling about in the absence. There’s a period of searching for something that you just know should be there, was always there, but is no more. You look like a fool...you feel like a fool. The time passes, and eventually you learn to adapt to your new world. You adjust to your new reality and find a way to thrive in it. All that remains is the subdued ache - it never leaves you. There is no escaping the moments sight and touch can never wholly fulfill.

A joke in the hallway is told, but all that the man with mangled ears can capture is the laughter on the lips of his brothers. A cheerful hollering of celebration at the success of each battle that equates to nothing more than hand-raising and waving for the deaf clone. An injured trooper opens his mouth to utter something in the midst of battle, but the deaf trooper’s HUD doesn’t pick it up. The clone’s last message - like his breath - fade into nonexistence.

“Who knew you could miss being shot at?” The man with freshly-healing scars had remarked (a little too loudly) to Exit years ago while still on Taanab. “Not actually being shot at, of course. But...y’know...the sound of it,” was the deaf trooper’s quick follow up, but the original statement had already earned him a clap on the shoulder from Exit and some smart comment about getting the chance again.

But the silence that overwhelmed the clone trooper now was far different from that dull ache. Both it and his mind weren’t in focus. And then slowly, bit by bit, the world unfolded around him. Hazy, at first... knocked unconscious and grenade were the first thoughts to pass through his demystifying mind.

It’s dark...too dark. Nighttime? There’s stars… The thoughts came flowing into the whirlpool that was now his waking conscious. Lights blinked in the foreground. A ship? The cockpit…I’m piloting… Nausea stabbed him violently in the abdomen, and the deaf trooper could not help slouching over and lifting off his helmet to eliminate the bile searing up his throat. The foam trickled down the trooper’s leg, his designation of CT-8429 in Basic still stamped to his shin plating. Steadying himself on all fours, the trooper breathed bland, recycled air back into his lungs.

Lifting his head up, the deaf clone noticed the controls were just in front of him. Risking a repeat of nausea, he dared to lift himself up to take a look again at the console readout. Through muddied thoughts, the muscle-memory guided his fingers over the controls. Unknown vessel, large...off the port bow...don’t recognize the configuration… Another wave caught him off guard and sent the clone retching more bile onto the rubberized floor.

In a flash, it came to him all at once: The sudden change. His brothers acted in unison. Kill the Jedi. They wouldn’t listen. What’s wrong with them? What did he miss? Protect the general. She doesn’t understand what’s going on. The ship. The escape. The general.

“General Ode!” roared from his acid-seared throat. The Jedi general lay face down beside her seat, muscles spasming across her back. CT-8429 made his way towards her, and rolled her right-side-up. With a toss of his glove, his hand was free to check the rate of her breathing as the general’s eyes fluttered violently. The deaf clone’s stomach turned - whether from the realization of her imminent death or the nausea, he did not know. “No...General…” were the only words that rasped in between his labored breaths. Body aching, the trooper sunk to his side. His vision overrun with darkness; confusion was soon replaced by silence.

The kind of silence that felt so deeply wrong.

 

[Luna Terrik]

M Y S T E RY

Location: Kooriva, The Lionhearted
Time: 1905 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, BAW-89 Carbine Rifle, Tactical Recon Handgun (2)
Tags: | CT-8429 |

It was within minutes that Luna and the rest of the Omega were crammed into a shuttle and headed toward the derelict ship, each checking their weapons once more over for whatever that they might find floating in that scrap heap. Apparently, Luna had broken up a sabacc game when her call went out to the squad of commandos, something that they were still lamenting over, even as most doubled checked the power cells on their blasters.

“Look, Bones. We both know you didn’t have an idiot’s array in that final hand, so I think that you should just go ahead and pay up before we get back and you have to suffer the defeat.” It was Halis, one of the newest members of the omega’s that spoke the loudest, drawing Luna’s attention to whatever they might be arguing about. His green lekku curled slightly near the tips as he stared over at the squad’s medic, whom seemed to not be having any of this little discourse. That didn’t surprise her one bit. If anyone was going to be locked in from the moment they were called, it was Bones.

The medic, however, did eventually look up toward the twilek, flashing him a raised eyebrow in response. “Well..if you’re so confident in that little fact, then why are you so eager to have me pay before we flip the cards?” This seemed to quiet down the greenie, especially once the pilot from the cockpit called to the back, informing the squad that they were less than a minute away from docking with the ship. Despite the slightly less focused mood they had upon entering the shuttle, it was the call of the pilot that seemingly snapped the mood altogether. Final checks were made before they all stood, Luna leading way back to where the ships would dock together.

For a moment, everything was quiet, then the sudden sound of air escaping into the vacuum of space overtook everything. The suctioning seal was swift, and before Halis could utter any retort, the doors slid open. It was the rustic grating that got to Luna, the sound of doors that had not been opened for a very long time. Their first look into the ship itself was greeted with complete darkness.

“Ship’s dead…lights on.” Luna gave the squad a moment to flip on their helmet lights, bringing light beams of light to the darkness ahead. Specks of dust floated in the air, glistening in and out of sight as the flashlights swung through them. Whatever this ship was, wherever it had come from, they were both far from whatever time they had once currently lived in.

She was the first to press into the ship, an armored boot clicking against the metallic flooring echoing in a way a dead ship only could. Her next footfall created the same, turning into a soft thundering as the rest of the squad entered along with her. From the earlier scans, the cockpit was only a few doors away, meaning it was just a matter of seconds before the omegas were lined up against the door. Granny to her right, Luna gave the nod for the silent countdown to begin.

Inhale…1…exhale..2….inhale…3.

The door being unlocked might’ve been a surprise, but what they found inside put no less of a shock through Luna’s mind than that. A pair of bodies, each sat in the pilots seat, were slumped over the controls. Whether they were dead or not, she couldn’t tell, but that was an answer that a certain commando was perfect to answer. “Bones, get up here.” Pushing his way up from the back of the squad, it took only one look into the cockpit for him to practically leap into action.

Quickly kneeling beside the non-armored one, he ran his fingers along her neck searching for a pulse anywhere. Moments of tense silence filled the cockpit, with the medic eventually turning his head to shake it toward the Marshal. That only left the armored pilot, which he quickly began to give the same treatment to. This time, the answer came much quicker, Bones pivoting from his position toward the group. “We got a live one.”

Luna took a step forward, gazing over the alive pilot. Whoever this was, they had suffered some terrible damage to their ear. It wouldn’t’ surprise her at all to find out he might be deaf just from looking at the wounds. There were still too many questions, ones that Luna desperately wanted answers too. Turning to Bones, she motioned out of the cockpit with the jerk of a finger, nodding toward the armored pilot. “Get him on the shuttle, then into medbay immediately. I want to know who he..” A pause, then a look over to where the dead jedi lay. “they both were.”

The subsequent retrieval process was about as smooth as Luna could have hoped for, seeing how broken down the old shuttle was. Both the armored pilot and the deceased ones were loaded onto the Dauntless’ shuttle, then the derelict ship was towed behind them back into the Lionhearted’s hanger. With how old it was, there was no telling what kind of information the hunk of junk could hold that might unlock the secrets to who these two people were…

Landing back on the ship, Luna watched as the deceased pilot was taken off the ship and toward the morgue, while the armored man was taken toward the medbay. While it was the medics that decided to take him, a subtle nod from her had Bones following her quickly in step as they headed toward the medbay. Thankfully, the walk was short, and as soon as they brought the man into the medical center, they began to hook him up to practically every device known to man. While his vitals were being taken, one medic began to inject him with a medium dosage of relaxant. If he was to wake up, hopefully the relaxant would help…calm him.

Turning to Bones, Luna leaned over to the medic, quietly whispering to him. “Just..what do you think is going on here?” It seemed as though the grizzled commando couldn’t take his eyes off the man, as if he there was something recognizable, but just couldn’t put his finger on it. His answer, spoken barely above a whisper, didn’t pull his eyes from the mystery man.

“I have no..no idea, ma’am.”

 

[CT-8429]

Tag: Luna Terrik |


Touchdown was breathless.

Dust scattered from the landing zone as Silent Squad boots collided with the soft earth of Osovi II. Above them, two black moons hung ornamentally in the pale sky. Ahead of them, the once-barren desert was highly impregnated with battle droids and clone troopers. And towards the action they ran. CT-8429 flanked his CO as he swept his blaster from side to side. “Let the fun begin! Stay close!” popped up on the deaf clone’s HUD in a bright red - the color he had assigned to Commander Royce.

The auto-captioner had been Luxe’s idea: “On the battlefield, there’s no way you’ll be able to see every signal we give, and lip-reading is...well...not an option. If I can get my hands on a PUT, I’ll try jerry-riggin it to your HUD.” The personal universal translator had proven difficult to source through conventional means (and the Republic was never keen to pay the clones a wage), so a trip to a nearby reclamator was in order. Hours off-duty were spent sifting through discarded remnants, but the men were eventually rewarded for their resolve. Setting that fraggin thing up consumed Luxe in between shifts over the next several days. CT-8429 couldn’t place the exact emotions he felt when Luxe proudly handed him back his helmet with the newly-installed HUD. Being in-touch with that kind of stuff wasn’t the sort of thing the Kaminoans programmed into their clones.

Osovi II was his first combat mission since he lost his hearing. As the deaf clone and his brothers soared over the cracked terrain, they wasted no time unloading their mags. Directly ahead, two clankers ambled onward with blasters raised. The butt of the blaster felt comfortable against the clone’s shoulder, even if the silence that enveloped him did not. With a squeeze of his finger, the blaster emitted two bolts - gone was the familiar whine that usually accompanied this process. Not…very...satisfying… came to mind. It became even more so true when only one shot fizzled against the droid’s metallic plating. The other landed farther back after grazing just to the left of the droid.

No matter. The deaf trooper rolled his head into aligning the sights and let fly the next volley. The droid went down, and he focused on the three quickly coming to take its place. Taking strides with his knees bent, the clone sought to shorten the distance between him and his targets. Before coming into range, the droids opened fire and bolts flew wildly in his direction - most landing shy of him by a few meters. By the time he had covered that ground, his weapon was already favoring the next target. Onetwo...three...four… he counted until the droid fell. Then he was on his knee, ducking his head, rolling, and up again. Balance the blaster, fire. Fire again. Three shots punched through the sky to his right, and the armor-clad soldier stumbled back into a crouch. Return shots were fired. One droid went down. He was up on his feet pressing forward. Another one down. He raised his head up to look for his squad, and then rejoined them while picking off crossfire for Exit. Jaws appeared on his left flank to provide support. With each target downed, the deaf trooper had to linger to visually watch the clanker crumble. He wondered if it would someday feel as riveting as it did when he could hear the metallic cases sizzle and collapse.

---

Focusing took less effort this time around. Waking up from his memory was far easier than coming out of the bad silence. Brown eyes blinked open against the sickly white lighting. The clone trooper knew immediately it had to be a medbay - nowhere else was this bright style of illumination to be found. Groaning as he sat up, CT-8429 noticed the rot in his stomach was no longer present. As an added bonus, his mind seemed free from the fog that trapt him last time he awoke. With the nausea and fog gone, it was easier for the deaf trooper to sit up and fully take in his surroundings.

Blinking only seemed to confuse him further. This medbay was very different - he didn’t recognize many of the utensils laid out. The interior design of this space was completely foreign to him. Even things like the rhythmic fluctuating of indicator lights and prosaic humming of station consoles were somehow...off-kilter...of sorts. Cables and various apparatus clung to his skin like serval snakes on a trapped dija rat. The immediate instinct to rip them off fueled a release of cortisol into his system, but the previously-administered sedative was just present enough to stop that itching desire.

The clone locked his tanned face on the man closest to him, and in a voice a-touch-too-loud, demanded: “Where am I?! What’ve you done to me?! What is this pl-” the words caught in his throat. Scanning over the personnel in the room had yielded the truth straight out of a nightmare. The deaf clone’s heart rate skyrocketed. In a fluid motion, he bundled the connected cables in his left hand and ripped them from his flesh. The black snakes fell lifelessly to the floor, coughing up blood and other fluids. CT-8429 rolled free of the biobed and landed on the cold floor. Within a second, he was scrambling backwards, knocking over medical trays with an obvious frenzy. A younger medical assistant had frozen in fright, white-knuckling a fission-scalpel. The deaf clone’s training kicked in, and he wasted no time locking a hand around the assistant’s jaw and jabbing the fission-scalpel to the throbbing pale neck with the other. As the soldier doubled his hostage as a meat shield, he could feel the adrenaline in his own system waning.

“Back! All of you! Or this Separatist scumbag pops a pipe!”

 

[Luna Terrik]

M Y S T E RY

Location: Kooriva, The Lionhearted
Time: 1915 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, Tactical Recon Handgun (2)
Tags: | CT-8429 |

For the first few minutes of the proceedings, it appeared as thought everything was going to go relatively normal.

The man laid still upon the medical examiners table, tubes and cables being threaded into his skin by the deft hands of the medbay staff. He seemed relatively still, not yet having awoken from whatever sleep he was in when the Dauntless had found him floating aboard the floating hunk of metal. Luna and Bones sat quietly off to the side, watching and waiting, hoping that maybe their mystery man might wake up soon and give them the information they needed to begin to unravel just what was happening here. If he didn’t, there was still a chance that the autopsy of the other pilot might give them what they were looking for, but it was much harder to get a corpse to talk than a living man.

However, there was no telling what kind of state he would be in when he awoke. He’d probably be scared, yes, but judging by his armor and markings on it, he was some sort of solider that might not take too kindly to being removed from his ship. Unconscious or not, that is. The best situation that could come of this was that he found it helpful that they were attempting to heal his injuries, and was thankful enough that he would begin to spill just who he was, where he had come from, and why his ship looked more like an exploded piece of starcruiser hull than a functioning shuttle. On the flip side…

Well, what happened the moment he woke up was exactly how badly things could’ve gone very quickly.

The air in the medbay seemed to still as the man slowly awoke from his slumber, prompting both Bones and herself to sit up in tandem. Their eyes locked, and beneath the deadpan look one had when they first awoke, Luna could see something growing in the darkness. It was not anger, though there might’ve been a small bit of that communicated. No, there was something else, something much more powerful beyond the man’s gaze toward the pair of commandos that sat across from him. It was fear.

There was barely a moment’s notice before the man flipped into action, hardly enough time for Luna to draw her pistols and level them at the man, who now had a very frightened looking doctor squeezed tightly in the crux of his elbow. The absolute last thing she was needed was a dead doctor, and the last thing she needed after that was a dead link to the mystery.

“Hey now..we don’t want you to hurt him either. See?” Taking a small step backwards, the points of her pistols slowly raised in the air. They would still be able to snap back down if the man man any sudden moves, but Luna was still doing her best to earn his trust in the moment. “We don’t know who you are, all we want to do is help you. And to figure out who you are. Promise, you are free to leave when you please, just do not complicate things by hurting one of my men.” She motioned toward the doctor, who for all his years of medical training and being stationed with soldiers seemed to be taking the situation quite…fearfully. It was a tense situation, one that she had inadvertently put him into. Hopefully his blood would not be on her hands as well.

 

[CT-8429]

Tag: Luna Terrik |


Confusion bared its twisted fangs in the clone trooper’s face. He was unsure about his captor’s motives. He was unsure where he was. He was unsure why they didn’t just kill him. And where’s the general? CT-8429 allowed his gaze to sweep the room once more, but he was met with the absence of a Jedi. In his arm, the assistant squirmed and earned a stamp on the neck from the fission-scalpel. The pale young man remained rather stoic from that point on.

Without his HUD, the deaf clone had to strain to read the lips of the people in the room. A woman had stepped backward, tipping the muzzle of her pistols upward. Everybody in the room paused and seemed to follow suit. The redhead had a hardened look to her, and the deaf trooper could tell she was a soldier. But from the way others interacted with her, it was obvious she was the ringmaster of this circus. After a moment, the deaf man realized the redhead was addressing him. The clone caught only bits at first: “...don’t...hurt...see?” It was Basic, so he was in luck. The woman with the CIS symbol embroidered on her shoulders was speaking clearly and slowly enough for him to get a grip on her facial structure.

He had never told anyone, but the deaf clone found it difficult to read the lips of new people. Just at first. He wasn’t sure if it was an accent thing, or maybe their differing face shapes. It could even have something to do with speech patterns - CT-8429 could never say for certain. All he knew is that it usually took him a while before he could understand what someone was saying with ease. Swallowing, the trooper steadied his stance and forced his breathing to even so he could better read: “...don’t...you are, all...is help you...and to…’gure out who you are...you are free to leave when you please, just do not come...things by hurting my men.”

He got the gist of it - that’s what mattered. While he wanted to believe that he was safe, the insignia plastered on the uniforms before him taunted the clone trooper. He had read stories of clones being captured behind enemy lines and tortured for days on end by sadistic scumbags. They were often hired by the Seps to perform various experimental procedures, but some just liked to torture for the hell of it. Some of the stories he’d been told were gruesome and made him wish that he’d meet his end on a battlefield rather than at the hands of a psychokiller. Was this the goal of the woman who stood before him? Even as his knees threatened to buckle underneath him, the clone tightened his grip on the medical assistant.

When he spoke, his voice came through assertively: “Why am I here? What do you want from me? Where am I?” After a pause, he added with a quivering note: “...and where is the general?” With that, the last drop of adrenaline had made its way round his bloodstream and purged itself. The clone could feel his body heaving, so he shoved the assistant forward and out of the way. Still clutching the fission-scalpel, he landed on all fours forcing the air in and out of lungs. His scalp itched with the ghost sensation of a blaster’s kiss to his skull.

 

[Luna Terrik]

M Y S T E RY

Location: Kooriva, The Lionhearted
Time: 1920 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, Tactical Recon Handgun (2)
Tags: | CT-8429 |

Over twenty combat engagements flushed through Luna’s mind and veins as the room’s air thickened in anticipation at what the solider might do. Seeing his grip tighten on the assistant was almost enough to trigger her own action. She could put a blaster hole between the man’s eyes before he knew what was going on with these handguns, but then they’d lose a valuable link to whatever was going on. There was no telling what they would pull from the ship’s computers, if anything at all, and with the situation teetering on the edge, the smallest of movements from Luna might trigger a repercussion that she could not stop.

It seemed as though the entire room breathed a slow sigh of relief when the assistant was let go. He crawled forward for just a pace before Bones was by his side, helping him to the side of the room before looking him over for any sort of wounds. Emerald green eyes slowly met the medics, flashing back and forth between the grizzled dauntless and the solider heaving on the floor. When the verdict was returned with a shake of the head, her attention fully returned to the solider.

His questions would linger on the back of her mind, yet the marshal didn’t move to make any sort of answer to them just yet. Instead, she waited until the man’s eyes were upon her once more. The blasters that were up-tipped toward the ceiling began to lower until the barrels pointed toward the floor and were returned to the holsters strapped to her thighs. Hands, now free from holding the weapons of war, upturned in a show of emptiness and calmness. Luna then motioned to the glass canister of water on the stand next to her, moving to open it and pour the clear liquid into a smaller container.

With the cup of water firmly grasped between her the fingers of one hand, while the other remained in a flat state, Luna placed the cup of water between them both. Taking a step back, Luna did everything she could to appear as though she was truly just trying to help the man. A motion to the cup of water, then the first words spoken in a few tense moments. “Please. Drink.” The man needed something to ground him. Too much was happening in too short of a time, and the last thing that anyone needed was for all of them to act on the moment.

Whether or not the clone actually took and drank the water, Luna would kneel down to his level just a few feet away. “You are onboard the Lionhearted..my ship. We are in the Kooriva. I..” A pause, searching desperately to figure out how to answer the remaining questions best without setting off the man. How could one possibly explain that their…general was dead without receiving an emotional response of some kind was like tight roping over the canyons of Geonosis on a windy day. “I truthfully..completely, do not know why you are here. Or who you are. Or who that..general of yours is. All I do know is that you suddenly appeared..and that your general didn’t make it back from wherever you have been.”

 

[CT-8429]

Tag: Luna Terrik


A certain ugliness settled inside the clone trooper’s belly. Swirling uneasiness rotted his gut, and the trooper felt it best to remain on the ground. The fizzling out of adrenaline rendered his fingers numb and his knees tingled. All similar sensations as to what his head was currently experiencing. Hence, he did his best to regain his bearings while seated on the cool duraplating floor of the medbay.

Adaptability was a construct the man had been inbred with, but some element of his reality seemed so...off. Whatever meds he had been given by his captors were stronger than what his system was used to. Flashes of his time spent in bacta tanks of immunoboosters on the homeworld Kamino sparked through his mind’s eye. Most all of the clone’s physical resilience was genetically manipulated at the cellular level, but few outside humanoids were aware of the actual physical training that clones underwent to increase their autoimmunities and prevent them from going out of commission due to infections and diseases. Most of this was done via bacta tanks filled to the brim with smelly, bubbling concoctions of the various amino acids and viruses deemed necessary for exposure. Every clone underwent the bathing of these cesspools. The experience was horrific - aching joints, frozen extremities, high fever headaches, accompanied by overall weakness, nausea, and oftentimes a splitting migraine. More seasoned troopers had said these were on par with a dagger lodged in the skull...except the migraine’s blade could not be removed. While the clone did not endure this level of pain or symptoms, he was consciously aware that his current wooziness stemmed from medication like that of the immunobooster bacta tanks.

CT-8429 watched as the woman moved slowly and methodically around the room. Other officers rushed around him, and he distinctly noticed the majority of the medical staff abandon the room in silent frenzy. It was clear to him now that her immediate intention was not one of murder. Her dual blasters scoured the ceiling before they fell into their holds at her thighs. Water glistened in a quiet waterfall as she poured out the liquid into a cup. And between them, the cup remained. Division was but a glass of clear liquid, yet the reality of the situation was anything but that to the deaf clone. A question, an answer, an offer, a gesture. The cup could have stood for so many things. Within the reasonably calculating man’s brain, truth remained obscure.

This is where it occurred to the deaf trooper that the woman must know he’s deaf - in all she did, her body language spoke clearly. She’s not a Jedi… he thought to himself. Force-users prided themselves on being stoic and object-like. He had hated meeting new Jedi generals; they were all hard to read at first. However, this woman was a far cry from those movements. Purpose and precision powdered her hands as they drifted from one action to the next. Resolution grew in her body, but a soft sense of innocence crept around her lines. Not conventional innocence, of course. Her various scars and beauty were likely indicators of the conflicts and passions that involved the woman. Instead, her innocence was one found in absolvement from future crimes - whatever horrors he had involved her in his head, the woman standing before him was innocent of.

Water coated his throat in sweet succulence.

As it flowed, the deaf clone’s eyes never averted their stare on the woman. Particularly on her lips. The message they shared was not one he wanted to misunderstand - it could mean life or deaf in this situation. “You are onboard the Lion...ted…...my ship, we are in Kooriva...I…” hesitation shadowed across the woman’s face accompanied by another emotion. Was that sympathy? The deaf clone couldn’t be sure about anything except that she was being very careful in her choice of words. Something bad is coming...I know it. He need not wait long for the fulfilment of that prophecy, as the red head began again: “I truthfully...completely, do not know why you are here...or who you are...or who that...general of yours is...all I do know is that you suddenly appeared...and that your general didn’t make it back from wherever you have been.”

Mirroring the woman, the deaf clone rose with a steadiness that marked his acknowledgement of the predicament. Neither shock nor surprised marred his face. In their place, curiosity and confusion hung bare. He didn’t understand what had become of the general. He didn’t understand why the Separatist officer acted without malice. Her confusion only further intensified his. Having finished the glass, the deaf clone placed it back on the table. It no longer marked the divide, but instead, offered an invitation.

In a volume a smidge louder than average for conversation, the deaf clone responded: “CT-8429. Rank: Lieutenant. I was assigned to General Ode. The general and I were leaving the Republican base down there...on Kooriva, I mean. There was...an accident. We were the only ones left.” While lying was not his strong suit, the clone often managed to be convincing enough when he needed to be. The woman had not yet offered any reason to fear her, except for the insignia emblazoned on her shoulders. He was still terribly unsure what exactly had happened to his brethren on Kooriva, but he knew he needed help. Just not the Separatist’s. His words were deliberate, “I’m not valuable to you - I’m not entrusted with critical information, so I’ve got nothing of importance for you. My commander, he’s a clone, he isn’t told scaff half the time. If you let me contact the Republic and drop me off somewhere, I won’t cause any trouble.” Then, as the thought occurred to him, he pointed to one of his ears. “Plus, this clone’s deaf. Not good for much else, and you won’t get a costly credit for me. Best...drop me off.” Hope hung to his words. The one good thing going for him was that neither the Republic nor the Separatists put much value in clone troopers. He hoped to appeal to this, and bring help back for his brothers down on Kooriva...

 

[Luna Terrik]

M Y S T E RY

Location: Kooriva, The Lionhearted
Time: 1923 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, Tactical Recon Handgun (2)
Tags: | CT-8429 |

As the man in front of her began to sip down the water that had been placed in front of him, Luna began to slowly release a breath that had been held unknowingly in her lungs for almost the entire time. If he trusted her enough to drink water, perhaps there was still hope to unravelling whatever this mystery was. All they needed to do was to help him get talking, and once he stared, Luna hoped stress and adrenaline would keep him going.

While he placed the glass back between them, an invitation she reached out to take, refilling his cup, her eyes darted over to where Bones had been checking over the assistant. Both seemed to have calmed down quite a bit, and the assistant was even sitting up on his own. Bones’ eyes spoke of a begrudging acceptance of the situation, knowing that it could still explode in their faces in a moment. Luna knew the acceptance was as much a warning that he was still very wary of the situation, allowing her to focus on making sure the man would start explaining what had happened to him.

Just as she set the refilled cup back in front of her guest, he began to speak once again. It was after only a few sentences that Luna began to wish that he had just stayed comatose. His name was…a number? It had to be some sort of nickname or something along those lines. No name could just be a number, that’s not how things worked. But as the man continued to talk, Luna’s confused and furrowed brow continued to grow closer and closer together.

To her knowledge, there hadn’t been a Galactic Alliance or Republic base on Kooriva. Even back during the wars between the First Order and the Alliance, the farthest south she remembered those rebels going was Kiffu..though of course, she could be mistaken. Most of the flights Cross Squadron took were closer to the homefront, much farther west, like Kaeshana. Maybe the Alliance had been able to establish some sort of forward operation base on Kooriva.

None of what this..CT said before that confused her even began to stand in the face of what he spoke of next. A….clone? Like, from Kamino? She had never seen any like him before, and to her knowledge, Teac Sadru , the viceroy of the planet, hadn’t been working on a clone army such as this one, and what they did work on looked nothing like this…man. Had they begun to work in secret behind the Confederacy’s back? It wouldn’t make sense, but Luna was staring what looked to be proof of it right in the face.

Eventually, the marshal had to hold her hand’s up in a motion of pause, trying to get a moment’s time to allow her brain to catch up to what was being said. Too many questions, too many things being said that just didn’t make sense. She needed to start from the beginning, with a foundation, and try and build what was happening here from the very start. He even seemed like he feared that she would try and pirate him off or something along those lines. If they were dressed like Marauders or pirates, perhaps she might understand, but..there had to be something else going on here.

“Ok..ok.” That was what she managed to get out, still holding her hands up with the palms facing the clone. First, she needed to figure out the foundation of all this. Perhaps her words were being lost in this situation and something was missed. He had said that he couldn’t hear, after all. It had been quite a while since she had last used it, but galactic sign language was a skill that the First Order had prided themselves on teaching their pilots. Her hands moved in slow motion, following her words, as she attempted to remember just how to sign what she spoke allowed. “We…do…not…want…to…sell..you.” A frustrated sign as she realized that this pace would be mindnumbing if they wanted to figure out what was going on here.

“ma’am, allow me.” Her eyes quickly turned to find Bones making his way over to where she stood, finding his spot beside her. Giving her a nod, he faced the clone, quickly signing a greeting to the man. “Corellia medical school..thought it was smart to have us learn it in case a solider lost his hearing in the field. I can translate, you speak.” The medic’s eyes found Luna’s once more, giving a nod that this time spoke of much more confidence and reassurance. She responded in turn, looking back to CT with a more determined look on her face.

“A lot of what you say..doesn’t make sense. But we can work that all out..at least, I hope we can. Firstly..” A pause, then a glance to the side to make sure Bones was following her words with the signs, which he was, before the auburn haired woman continued. “You say that you are a clone. Are you from Kamino? Did they start your creation program recently? I have been to there not too long ago, and I didn’t see any clones like you.”