Chapter Text
~CT-9963’s P.O.V.~
There’s a pinch in my upper arm, then my heart rate picks up as I pry my eyes open. An adrenal. My suit wouldn’t be injecting an adrenal unless it registered lowered heart rate and brainwave activity. My HUD buzzes to life as I groan at the pounding in my head, pulling myself to my feet. My HUD is showing a heat signature behind me. A big one. I reach for my blaster holster as I turn to face the heat source. But.. Where is my blaster?!
I sigh in relief when I see the heat signature is, in fact, not a hostile. Just a fire. But where is my blaster? I look around on the ground for a minute before I spot it, just a few feet from where I’d just been lying. I pick it up and, after a quick inspection, let out another sigh of relief as it appears to be undamaged. I look back up at the heat signature, taking a few steps back before I finally see what I was laying on while unconscious. The glass sphere that was once the starboard turret position of a gunship. The very gunship that was deploying myself and several regs. The gunner is nowhere to be found, the pilot is bent unnaturally backwards, and the port side turret isn’t even with the gunship.
Would’ve been safer to crash on Malachor at this point.
“Okay.” I sigh, shaking my head a bit as I look around again, noting the unmoving bodies of the regs, each bent in unnatural positions from the crash. How did I escape the crash? I check on each and every reg, but none of them are with us anymore. Karking fantastic. I shake my head to clear it of any negative thinking, muttering to myself as I take the explosive charges, comms, medpacks, and ammo cartridges from the deceased. “Think. Think. What was the mission? You were being deployed with regs instead of the squad.” Where am I and why am I here…
Looking around all I see is red-brown sand and stone. Next to no vegetation. No cloud cover either, making the sunlight and heat especially harsh. The gunship doesn’t appear scorched like with regular blaster fire. It appears unstable and even crumpled, like it’s been body-slammed by a reek. Tibana-based blaster fire can’t do that and it would leave a scorch-mark. …But sonic weaponry is known for more kinetic impacts that can disrupt electronic systems and crush bones. That would do it.
I stand, double-checking the area again for survivors or salvageable gear when suddenly everything clicks into place.
RIGHT! Geonosis. Jedi. Separatists. War. Base. Yes. I remember. My team and I were being deployed to destroy a Geonosian base. I activate my comm as I raise my blaster, dragging my gaze across the area in search of hostiles. “This is Hurricane Six to Hurricane Squad. Come in, squad. Check in.”
There’s a bit of static as I turn off my mic, then it intensifies.
“…”
I could have sworn that sounded like the click of the comm. But I might also be imagining things.
“…Hur…ane…ee…ree…”
YES! Okay, so I have signal. Just need to boost it somehow to get rid of the static. I look around a bit before heading between an opening in the rocks, my blaster still raised as I take long, slow steps into what appears to be a cave system. “Hurricane Squad, I’m getting interference. I say again, check in. Repeat, this is Hurricane Six. Squad, check in.” Activating my night vision mode brings the dark cave system into a crisp clear green and I proceed into the comparatively cold area, keeping my head and shoulders on a swivel. Hopefully, the other side of the cave will have better signal.
“…cane…ix…ee…”
Damn cave. I pick up the pace. It’s too quiet here. Either the bugs are preoccupied elsewhere, or they’re lying in wait for me to drop my guard. I don’t particularly like either possibility as the first means they might be on my brothers right now, and the other means it’ll stop being quiet here at the worst possible time. I round a corner and catch just a moment, a flash, of movement and I’m pulling the trigger before I can even properly register what I am looking at. When I do, I’m glad I fired. Damn bugs are creepy enough in pictures but they’re even worse up close and in the dark under night vision. Speaking of dark, that looks distinctly not dark. I head towards the bright white area up ahead and to the left, firing off three quick shots when a Geonosian drops down from above, then another five into the two that follow.
“Ome…Rep…Co…in! …eed…up…eat…eed…up!”
That sounded like panic. Maybe he’s calling for backup. “This is Sergeant CT-Nine-Nine-Six-Three of Hurricane Squad. What is your location? Repeat. What is your location?” I ask as I round a corner and immediately groan, shutting my eyes for a moment at the sudden rush of light. Sergeant Tar would have my head if she found out I closed my eyes on a battlefield. I pry my eyes open, stepping to the side so my back is against the wall next to the cave exit, shutting off the night vision mode before exiting the cave once more. I’m on a cliff overlooking the desert which stretches out for miles. There’s structures way off in the distance straight ahead but they’re too far away to determine if they’re natural or constructed, nothing but sand and dirt to the left, but to the right is exactly what I needed to see. At least I’ve found the base.
“…ome…this…Hurric…Three…I’m…ing…improv…sig…”
Please be Thirty-Three. “This is Hurricane Six. I have eyes on the base. Repeat, I have visual on the target. Rendezvous at mark..” I quickly check my surroundings, my HUD providing me the information I need, “two-eight-nine by five-one-zero. Repeat. Rendezvous at mark two-eight-nine by five-one-zero. Do you copy?”
“This is…Thirty-Three…Repeat…py…”
Damn static. “Hurricane Three, repeat again I’m getting interference. Do you copy?”
“…I copy…”
I’ll believe it when I see you at the rendezvous. I turn and head along the cliff path down towards the rendezvous point. It wouldn’t do to be late to my own rendezvous.
“Hurricane Six, this is Hurricane Nine, I copy and will be at the rendezvous shortly. Do you read me?”
Why doesn’t he have static? Maybe Thirty-Three’s the one getting the interference. “This is Six. I read you loud and clear, Nine. Damn it’s good to hear from you. I was getting a lot of interference from Three. What’s your status?”
“Huh..that’d explain why he didn’t react to my joke earlier. I’m alright, Sergeant. No trouble landing, though I saw your ship go down. I can see the target now. I’ll be at the rendezvous soon.”
If he can see it, and we were all supposed to land south of the target, then he should be nearby. “Nine, give me landmarks. What’s around you?”
“Uhh there’s a big cliff up on my right and a whole lot of desert on my left.”
Wait a minute. I lean over the cliff edge to my left, scanning up and down the area below as best I can without falling. I chuckle, activating my mic again. “Nine, look up at the cliff edge and back.”
My brother stops, doing as I ask before he starts and waves.
“Woah, hiya, Sarge. Fancy meeting you here. How’s the view?”
I shake my head a bit at his antics as I answer, “nevermind the view, Nine. Have you heard from Seven at all?”
“Not a peep.”
“Damn. Alright. I’m going to try and make contact with Seven. There’s a slope here I’m hoping will take me to your level. Head to the rendezvous. Try and keep contact with Three, see if you can identify what’s causing his static.”
“Roger that, boss. I’ll see you there.” He turns, jogging off towards the base and rendezvous point.
I continue down the path as I call Seven. “This is Hurricane Six to Hurricane Seven. Seven-Two, do you copy?”
…
I never did ask Thirty-Three if he was the one who sounded panicked on the comm earlier. Maybe that was Seven-Two. If so, then he might be currently engaging the enemy and in need of backup. But, without his position, there’s very little I can do to help him. “Hurricane Seven, do you copy?”
…
Great. Our first mission is completely sideways and we haven’t even reached the target yet. The rest of the batch will never let us hear the end of it if they have to take over our mission. Even worse, if a reg team is sent in our stead and succeeds, we could get decommissioned.
No. One crisis at a time. First, get to the rendezvous.
I keep trying to hail Seven-Two all the way down the path but there’s still no word by the time I get to the ground and no sign of any more Geonosians. “Nine, I can’t reach Seven. What’s your status?”
“At the point, sir. Three should be here shortly.”
“Good. Hold that position until I get there.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Seven-Two, I swear if you’re fine there will be hell to pay for scaring me like this.
* * *
“Hey, boss.” Nine-One greets me with another wave as I join him in the circle of rocks I’d set as our meeting point.
Thirty-Three looks up from his seat on the ground and quickly pulls himself to his feet so he can stand with his back straight and salute me. “Sergeant.”
At least he looks unharmed, though his armor is covered in sand. “Thirty-Three I was getting a lot of interference on your end. What was the problem?”
“I was in a cave system for a good part of the trek, sir. Though the Geonosian that slammed into me likely attributed to the problem. It’s fixed now, sir.”
“Good. You know how much I hate static.” He’s still standing at attention. “At ease.”
His back and shoulders finally relax, though he stays standing and alert.
“Thirty-Three have you seen or heard anything from Seven-Two?”
“I have not, sir. Though my HUD is still detecting his life signs as active.”
…What? “Elaborate.”
“Remember when I asked to see everyone’s chest-pieces that night in the barracks?”
Which time? Wait. No. He only ever asked for just the chest-piece once. I nod. “Yes.”
“I was putting a transceiver into everyone’s armor that would send me their real time life sign scans. I can see his life signs.” He pulls off his helmet, holding it out to me.
I holster my blaster, peel off my own helmet, and trade helmets with him. He holds mine while I slide his on. It takes a moment before I can see my own vitals appear on the HUD, then Thirty-Three types something into his vambrace and the display changes to show the squad’s vitals lined up.
“Given that his heart rate was elevated the last time I checked, I would say he’s actively engaged in physical activity. I can only conclude that his comm silence is due to his comm possibly being damaged.”
Seven-Two’s vitals are now the only ones on display. The heart rate is listed as 152 bpm, with a small yellow arrow pointing up next to it. I take off the helmet, trading again with Thirty-Three. “Handy, a shame you didn’t install a tracking device.”
Thirty-Three types into his vambrace. “I’ll be sure to do so when we return to Kamino.”
Nine-One shifts in his seat on one of the rocks, fiddling with his blaster. Clearing his throat, he stands, rolling his shoulders and scuffing his boot in the sand. “What now, Sarge?”
I sigh, turning to look at the target with my helmet resting under my arm. I have a lousy decision to make, and sadly the one that will make me happy will go against every lesson Sergeant Drachan taught me on leading an op. “Command is relying on us to take out that base. The longer we delay, the more of our brothers die elsewhere. We all know our parts. If Seven-Two is unable to complete his part of the mission, then we’ll do it for him.” I turn to face them, sliding on my helmet and reloading my blaster before nodding to them. “We’re Hurricane Squad. We got this assignment because we’re the best demolitions team in the GAR and that base is one of the biggest on the planet. If anyone can turn that beast into a pile of rubble it’s us. We’re on the clock, Hurricanes. Let’s go make a mess.”
“Yes, sir!” Nine-One and Thirty-Three reply enthusiastically.
Seven-Two…please be okay.