STS. LOG-058. (Patreon)

LOG-058.

“All teams, final check in.”

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

“Team Aurek, checking in.”

“Team Besh, checking in.”

“Team-”

The responses continued, though he didn’t pay them all that much attention. A few years ago, a thought like that would have been enough to get him to seek out a superior. Someone like the general, maybe.

Though that unfortunately wasn’t an option nowadays, so Cody just sucked it up like always, breathing in through his nose as he watched the lit up forms of his troopers moving through the underbrush, made clear by his macrobinoculars.

‘His’ troopers. Something he’d tried to keep up. To internalise. The TKs were alright boys, but…damn it.

“We don’t even have the same kriffing armour.”

For a second, he almost thought he’d voiced his issue out loud, though the smallest bit of movement next to him dissuaded the clone of that idea. He held back a sigh.

Unlike him, Peel seemed more than willing to voice his internal issues, something the commander might have once reprimanded him for, but with things the way they currently were…well.

“You know the rules. New guys get priority over us old-timers.”

His brother (one of the very few from the cannibalised 212th he was still with, considering all of the transfers to different flagging battalions and fronts) scoffed, watching the soldiers slowly but surely continue to advance towards the isolated compound.

“Yeah, fat lot of good it’ll do them. No offense, but I bet half of the poor bastards will get cut down before they’re even inside the bloody building. Clankers are still clankers, rusty or not.”

And wasn’t that the truth. The war was back on, and it felt like more and more people were reporting signs of reactivated droids rampaging through their planets, all with less and less clones left to fight them.

Salyx was just another example of high command failing to see the forest for the trees. A platoon of men sent to secure an entire world? The locals claimed that they were dealing with a droid factory for stars’ sake, and they had next to no intel from the uncooperative buggers besides that!

“...We should be down there. Leading from the front.”

This time, Cody did sigh, looking away from his ‘binocs to shoot his counterpart a glance, both of them relatively well hidden atop the small cliff face they were observing the operation from. To think he’d actually almost gone through with running off just a short while ago.

“We should, but…I don’t like this, Peel.”

His brother stilled at that, shooting him a look, dirty visor barely reflecting the light of his blaster rifle’s scope.

“...Ya think this is like Bray? Or maybe Umbara? Some kinda setup?”

Any response he might have given to the theory had to be put on hold as the comm crackled, the voice of one of the men (his men, damn it) speaking up over the connection.

“Aurek lead, we’re breaching!”

He spoke up against his will, voice strangled as he finally realised what had him so uncomfortable.

“Aurek, don’t-!”

They were being watched. A sensation that only intensified as the white figure he’d been calling out to disregarded his warning and kicked open the small door the rest of team Aurek had stacked up on, rushing inside half a second later.

“Kriffing idiots! They didn’t even roll in a droid popper!”

He echoed Peel’s sentiment, because what the hell was the point of all those new training programs if his own troopers weren’t going to listen to him? He’d been hopeful about the new batch, but it wasn’t hard to notice the anti-clone sentiment the officers seemed determined to instill in the next generation. And for what?!

Cody wanted to speak up, to comment on the utter absurdity to the one other person present who might understand…and yet he didn’t make a sound, partly due to all of his attention rather quickly focusing on the disturbance he’d noticed and begun tracking.

“Aurek’s in. This uh…this place is empty.”

The compound was a squat, ugly thing, rectangular in shape with a horizontal cylinder of a roof causing it to bulge out slightly the further up it went. Around that edifice of duracrete was a forested mass, with overgrowth having long since crept up along the factory’s outer shell.

And there was movement in that overgrowth.

“Peel, sight in, over by the exterior generators.”

He followed his own advice and brought up the macrobinoculars, zooming in to get a better look, only to freeze at the sight of a trio of figures crawling along the ground.

“Besh lead here, nothing on our end either. Think we got a bad tip?”

A less experienced soldier might not have spotted them, camouflaged as they were. But it wasn’t their exceptional painting skills that had him hesitating.

“Are those…clones?”

He’d done his job as spotter. Now it was Peel’s turn to pause, the sniper tilting his helmeted head slightly behind his scope as he took in the three unknown troopers.

“Wait…”

“...Have to be. The armour fits perfect, and they’re moving like a proper unit. What do you think they’re-”

“THERMAL DETONATORS! GET OUT! GET OU-”

The abrupt scream over the comms caused them both to shut their damn mouths, but the sudden eruption from within the apparently abandoned factory managed to pull a curse from Peel, the other clone swearing further as the entire structure began to collapse in on itself.

“Kriff! What the hell was that?!”

Cody’s own mouth was dry, his eyes still focused on the lead trooper hidden in the brush, a detonator clearly in his gloved hand.

Insurgents. Rumour mill’s been awash with reports from different outposts, just didn’t think it was true. But…I was almost ready to make a break for it myself. Would I have ended up where they are now, if I had?

And even disregarding that thought, what was he even supposed to do? He’d told himself he had a duty to the Empire, same way he’d once had a duty to the Republic? What would Peel do? Were they really going to shoot at their own brothers?

“Commander, I need some orders here! What’s our play?!”

A boot crunched against something sharp and dry, and Cody tensed.

“Just sit tight, soldier. This’ll be over quick-”

The horrifically familiar voice was close enough that he felt confident in the leg sweep, but he still whirled about to be sure, hand automatically reaching for the blaster pistol strapped into the holster at his side.

Peel had started moving too, but wasn’t quick enough, the clone perhaps managing to turn about halfway before the distinctive shape of a stun ring slammed into his form, pulling free a single grunt before he went limp.

Cody didn’t get so gentle of a treatment, as his leg swept through empty air, and a fist violently impacted against his throat, stealing his breath and causing his eyes to bulge out behind his visor.

His suspicion was confirmed seconds afterward, Wolffe’s distinctive helmet staring back down at him from the straddle the other commander had locked him into, right as the other clone levelled a blaster pistol of his own.

“Nighty night.”

The barrel pressing up against his chest spewed forth another stun ring, and then he knew only darkness, his senses rapidly failing as the presence atop him lifted, a quiet voice calling out, as if from a vast distance.

“Targets are secure. Standard cuff ‘n’ strip, then we exfil. Reckon Rex’ll be excited about these ones…”