//------------------------------// // A Day Of Construction // Story: Star Wars Episode V, Phantoms Of The Past // by FourShadow //------------------------------// Yavin IV Elsewhere on base, Rarity and Applejack were working in a cleaner's room, doing an inventory check of the uniforms the staff had on base. Pilots, officers, training, admirals, all types of uniforms were around. To Rarity's surprise, she did like how professional they were, and how each of them were modified specifically for whatever species, size, and set of the individual they wore. Comparing them to the stolen Imperial uniforms, she was disgusted by the drabness, and the extremely tight fitting, especially around the collar regions. How anyone got any work done when they wore these was something she was never going to understand. But checking the uniforms did however stir up a few ideas in her head for some new suits. And maybe some armors if she could ever get the material to make them. However, that burst of creativity was gone in an instant when the door whisked open with a faint screech of metal, and an angry Rainbow Dash marched in, huffing and growling. "Rainbow Dash? What's gotten you so perturbed?" "Hurricane, that's who!" The veteran snapped. "Bad enough I have to work with him, now it's going to be impossible to live with him! I was ready to start things over with him, and I just had to ask, just, agh!" "Had to ask, what?" Applejack tilted her head. "I asked him about Order 66, and if he had the inhibitor chip installed. Get this, his never worked! Or he didn't have one, I don't know, I don't care! He still chose to try and kill me!" Rainbow's hands slapped at her side. "You know, I could have dealt with it, if he was just under some mind control. It would have been bad, but I would have been fine with that, he was gone for that time, I didn't realize he was taken, that would be fine! You know, all of my troops turned on me the same way he did, Slip, Cade, Fring, Tasks, Poucher, Arch, all of them. But for the longest time, I always thought there was a chance he regretted it." "... And does he?" Rarity asked, waiting for a chance to interrupt. "... okay, he did kind of sound like he had guilt for what he did," Rainbow truthfully spoke, throwing her arms down. "But I'm sorry, you shot me, why should I let go of that?" "Alright, first of all," Applejack flicked Rainbow in the head, making her yelp. "OW! AJ, what the heck!?" Rainbow snapped. "That was for askin' him about a subject that he probably wanted to avoid altogether just like you did, you chose to bring it back up," Applejack started. "Second, we can't get mad at the clones anymore. None of that matters anymore, choice or otherwise," she replied, looking back down at her manifest. "Whose side are you on here, Apples?" Rainbow put her hands on her hips. "The Rebellion," Applejack sassed back. "Right now, they need us to focus on the Empire, and not worry so much about old wounds. Look, I can't tell you what to do here, Commander Dusty isn't around anymore," Applejack paused. "I think. I don't know where he wound up. But if he was here now, I'd be forgivin' him." "Wha-cha, I can't even believe what I'm hearing right now. I should forgive him? After he tried to kill me?" Rainbow argued. "What Applejack is trying to say is we don't have our old clone allies anymore," Rarity interjected. "Those five are all we have. Applejack, Pinkie, all of us aren't going to see them ever again," she sighed. "I know it's hard, but is that all you're going to remember him for? One terrible thing he regrets, out of the many times you two trusted each other and fought together?" Rainbow paused for a moment to think, but she said nothing. Her fists balled up, and she let out a sigh, her expression still reading angry. She stomped out of the room, letting both Jedi back to work once again. How she was going to deal with this? She had no clue. All she knew was she had to stay far away from him. The vet wondered who should she go to talk about this. Bon Bon didn't want to be a part of this matter, she was fixing droids. Pinkie probably wouldn't have been helpful for this, maybe. Maybe Sunset could have something to say, or at least, something helpful. Taking an elevator up, she walked across the halls until she found her talking with a few officers in one of the monitoring rooms. She was about to brashfully speak up, but she stopped herself. Taking a moment, she remembered the formalities before stepping inside to talk. "General Shimmer, I apologize for interrupting ma'am, but may I speak with you in private? It is an urgent matter," Rainbow asked. Sunset looked up at Rainbow then back to the officers. The general gave them a nod, and they quietly nodded back, agreeing to continue this conversation later. "Okay Rainbow, what is it?" Sunset asked, eyes half-glued to her datapad. "It's Hurricane. Sunset, I can't work with him." "In case you forgot, we can't afford to be picky about the people we work with," Sunset sternly, but calmly reminded, giving her a glare. "It's not like we're going to get a battalion anytime soon." "Sunset, that whole thing with Order 66? He wasn't brainwashed, there was no chip! He intentionally tried to kill me!" Sunset looked up at Rainbow, and to her surprise, she had zero negative reaction. No shock or surprise, she looked calm about it! "... Okay. So he chose to try and kill you. Has he tried to repeat this course of action again?" She asked. "W... okay, no, he just admitted it to me while we had lunch, but how am I supposed to work with that!?" Rainbow stammered. "Let me offer another way to think about it," Sunset replied, putting her datapad down. "Remember when I was on the Dark Side? At Tempest's side?" "Wha, well, that's different! You chose to switch sides," Rainbow protested. "The same way Hurricane chose to turn himself around and join us again. I can't speak for him, but if he intentionally chose to come back here and opened himself up like that, he's probably trying to start anew, and getting mad at him isn't going to help him, or anyone else," Sunset then looked back at her datapad. "But--" "--No, Rainbow. You're going to have to find a way to work with him, regardless of your past with him. You did the same for me a long time ago... why not do the same for him?" Rainbow just scoffed, folding her arms with some anger still bubbling. The only thing she knew was she was to never get near him, ever again. She was just happy he didn't hear anything that was said, or so she thought. -- Unbeknownst to her, Hurricane did hear. He stood outside the office, and he could hear her ranting and raving inside. He originally wanted to talk about assignments but after that? No. He didn't want to talk about anything, to anyone for that matter. He simply turned around, ignoring the people around him. To him, he felt like all of their eyes locked onto him, even if they didn't. Truth be told, they were used to seeing Rebels wear various pieces of clone trooper garb that a fully dressed trooper was normal to them. Getting closer to the elevators, he felt his body shaking more and more. He felt sick, a migraine coming on strongly. The commander's heart pounded a hundred miles an hour, anger starting to boil. He removed his helmet and looked down at it. He repainted his classic scheme, and for what? More guilt? A rebellion that wouldn't accept him? A general who wasn't going to hear his side? His fists balled up and shook, as he violently slammed his Phase I helmet against the sides of the elevator, multiple times, until he could see it being dented. The walls were getting dented, along with the helmet, until pieces started to crack apart like an egg. He was ready to punch it again, but he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to damage it again. His palms opened and the helmet dropped on the floor. He couldn't do it any more. No more rage was left in his body to destroy the helmet, or the elevator, he was just tired. By the time the doors opened, he was holding onto the walls, trying to calm down. A few folks, including officers, gazed at him with concern. "Trooper, are you okay?" One of them asked. "... I'm sorry," Hurricane apologized, rather briskly before walking away. The rest of the officers on the floor just watched him leave, curious and bewildered. What could have happened that caused that? By now, a camp site had been set up for the Bracca team. The ship would never fly again, but much of the inside was still functional. Restrooms, the kitchen, bedding, there was still some function left to be had. But the crew had set up some extra exterior for the outside for their site, setting up some tarps for cover from inevitable rain that would come on of the days they stayed here. A few tables set up, with some chairs to sit and rest, some even having various parts and tools laid about for the crew to grab when they needed them, including some canteens for refreshment and other necessities. One of the crews had walked down a sturdy steel bridge, leading to a massive rocky lot where multiple Republic vehicles had been parked. Standard walkers, a few turbo tanks, artillery cannons, stun tanks, and many others. Ground vehicles had been separated from flight vehicles which was a bit of a nice plus. Said crew who came down had a few carts out to collect whatever tech or valuables they could find. The members consisted of Bitra, face still shrouded in her mask; the pilot, Cassie Bishop, who had some patches on her face; Tune Up, who wore an engineer's outfit with rolled up sleeves, and Bifrost, who was wearing old Phase II clone trooper armor supplemented with disheveled cloth wraps. "Remind me again; specific parts to look for?" Tune Up asked. Bitra looked at the manifest. "Fuel cells, coils, weapons, anything that hadn't been combed through." "The Empire is thorough in inspections. They wouldn't miss anything," Tune Up questioned. "You would be surprised how much the average Imperial officer undermines the intelligence of the 'lesser beings'," Bitra replied. "Let's just see what we can find. Who knows, they might have some collectibles for us to take," Cassie smirked, stirring the temptation of the others. Collecting antiquities had become a new hobby, in hope of finding some activity to keep the monotony of war at bay. Split into groups of two, the team began their search. Bifrost slowly breathed in and out, placing her damaged helmet on her face. Most of it worked, though there was a sizable broken gap in one of the eye pieces that exposed her identity underneath. Reaching for her side, she pressed play on a cassette player (one of many technologies that still remained in use from Equestria aside from records). listening to an old pop song from back home that connected to her helmet through a pair of coils. Bum, bum, bum-ba-da, ba-da Bum, bum, bum-ba-da ah Music became another key to help the soldiers in the Rebellion stay sane, something calming or energetic to set them in a state that didn't teeter them on the brink of insanity. Some of the classic songs were even remade during the war by some of the musician refugees they had saved, who wrote some of them around to motivate the Rebels and give them hope that was desperately sought out. Bum, bum, bum-ba-da, ba-da (Oh, ah-ah-ah-ah) Bum, bum, bum-ba-da ah (Oh, ah-ah-ah-ah) Bifrost's foot tapped on the top of the walker, looking around for an entrance to get in. Thankfully some of the sides were torn open, allowing her a means of climbing in and inspecting. Trot outside and you see the sunshine Something's in the air today Sky is clear and you're feelin' so fine Everything's gonna be a-okay If you listen carefully On every corner there's a rhythm playing Her eyes looked around, locking on to a few consoles with some loose wiring. Opening up the panel, she found a few cables and coils that were still intact. Nothing was broken, no damage, they were still in stable condition. With a grin, she started to tear a few of them out, wrapping them up so that she could hold a few at a time. Elsewhere, Tune Up and Bitra stood inside the cabin of one of the turbo tanks, flipping the switches to see if they could turn it on and check for diagnostics. Then it happens suddenly The music takes you over and you'll Like magic, their steady hands together found means of reigniting the vehicle, connecting the proper wiring with the little help of a spare battery pack to give it some extra boost. Find you've got the music (Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind the music) Got the music in you (Oh, you) Find you've got the music (Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind the music) Got the music in you The screen readouts displayed multiple pieces of weapons and munitions that were still remaining in the vehicle, showing what little there was left. Not wanting them to be wasted, the two of them worked to grab the last munitions in the tank. Elsewhere, other folks were doing the same, searching the tanks for munitions to collect for their own. An RA-7 droid with a top and kama wrapped like a skirt helped carry some fuel cells onto a cart, alongside Clever and Sandbar. They had dropped the last batch of fuel cells they could grab, with the addition of the few carts in front of them. And with a smirk, Smolder, Gallus, and Silverstream came around the corner, pushing three more carts than they were of the supplies they needed. Sandbar just playfully rolled his eyes as he and his group continued to work. Unbeknownst to Smolder, Yona was walking out of one of the walkers with two huge crates of armor that she was holding with both of her arms and shoulders. Oh, o-o-oh Everypony's sayin' you should learn to express your voice But if talk doesn't seem like it's the answer Luckily you have a choice Derpy and the Baker's Trio worked like a mining team, grabbing pieces and parts, passing them along to each other onto a lift that still functioned, moving it along to the ridge where the ship had crashed. The lift would take passengers up and down to the edges of the rocky masses, and now they were using it to escort supply to the members that were by the campsite. Ocellus and G-G, along with a few others stood by as they pushed the carts and supply up, starting to organize them into stacks for them. Fuel in one stack, munitions in another, and so on. Thankfully they were kept safely apart from each other so nothing combustible could ignite and kill everyone. Find you've got the music (Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind the music) Got the music in you (Oh, you) Find you've got the music (Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind the music) Got the music in you The hours continued with productivity from everyone as they combed through the walkers and tanks, and by the time it was getting dark out, their assortment of carts had grown by the dozens, with no idea of how many munitions, fuel cells, or other antiquities they had collected. One thing was for certain, everyone looked proud at the masses they collected. An entire day, and they gotten so much work done, more than they had expected. Everyone felt proud. Got the music in you Got the music, got the music in you! Bifrost's finger clicked stop on her player, and she removed her helmet, revealing her sweaty face. "Whoo! Well, I don't know about you, but I think we got our mandated hours in for the night. What do you say we get cleaned up and get some dinner?" The night sky hung above the campsite, with everyone sitting in their own groups to have dinner. Two sets of campfires were made, with a group surrounding each one. Derpy, the Baker's Trio, and Team Six had their circle, but had enough space for two more individuals. G-G was one of them, along with one other droid who was making her way towards them; the RA-7 droid wearing a simple dress. "Well, hello everyone," she greeted, her voice sounding rather smooth. "I hope no one minds, I wanted to be cleaned up before we sat down to eat," she poised. "Fine by me, come on down. You ready to get some power?" Sandbar set a power generator down next to her and G-G. She didn't need their help with the cords, she simply grabbed the cable and placed it into her socket, while G-G grabbed one as well, with both now sharing the same source. "Hope we got enough, we're gonna need that during the night," Smolder complained. "We have enough, Smolder. Besides, we took some leftover electricity from the walkers, we can use that as well," Gallus reminded. "Thanks again you four for helping us out," he looked to their new additions. "Happy to help," Bubbles smiled, accepting the bowl of hot food that had been prepped. He gave it a sniff and sighed. "This smells even better, Mix what is this?" The newly appointed chef was passing the food around to the rest of the crew. "Moodridian meats with a mix of veggies, some guacamole, and some nice, salty, tortilla chips. I picked up the recipe from the data files, Empressa Comida I think is her name?" "Oh her, she makes some great food," Silverstream licked her lips. "And this smells so good!" And ignoring basic table manners she just mauled her food like a hungry animal, her beak covered in some guac and chips. "Mmm... so good." "Okay, this is wonderful," Smolder agreed, enjoying her meal. A small puff of smoke steamed from her nostrils. "Ahh yeah, that's the hot stuff." "You're not going to make hot spicy stuff every time are you? I don't want to get sick in the night," Bubbles worried. "With all due respect, Commander, I've wanted to share my cooking with everyone for the past few months, so that's what I'm going to do," he sassed back, enjoying the food himself. "It still tastes wonderful Mix," Derpy sympathetically patted. "I love anything you make." "You're just saying that," the trooper pouted. "No, I mean it," she adorably hugged him. "Now come on, let's eat." The dinner conversations at first were a bit dry. Not a lot of possible discussions came to everyone's mind, or at least, something that didn't involve the war. Sure, there were some things to talk about, but given how big the Empire's grip was on them all, it was hard to just think about something for a few seconds. Well, it felt that way at first, because Vargas couldn't keep his eyes off of one particular woman in the group who was dressed more fancy than everyone else. "Okay, so I got to ask, who... um... what are you?" Vargas asked, pointing to the RA-7 droid. "I'm a woman, baby. Can't you tell?" She responded with some sass in her tone. Vargas blinked. "... Oh, well, um, of course. You're um..." he coughed awkwardly. "A very nice, woman. Where did you come from?" "Manufacturers: Arakyd Industries. Designation: Surveillance under any company orders per assignment. New runtime conclusion; Sandra. New protocols: Fight the Empire in the Rebel Alliance," she answered, still sounding oddly smooth. "I... see. How did you wind up with the Rebels?" "One of my old friends recruited me, along with the good General Shimmer. They didn't care I liked wearing dresses, only that I could defend myself and stand up to those Imperial boys," Sandra continued. Her fingers clutched at the cord connected to the battery, making sure it stayed firmly sealed. "Turns out I'm not the only droid who thinks for herself. There are others like me, who've also adopted organic cultures." "Bwoop boop?" G-G asked, tilting to the side to look at her. "In more ways than one, streamliner," she purred. "The fact of the matter is, I was originally meant to serve the Empire. My makers claimed it was a faulty program, but I became attracted to certain cultures. Certain cultures that made them disgusted at the ideal of a droid being non-conforming. So when they sentenced me to scrap, I took my chance. Life is too short for anyone to take no for an answer." "I like you," Yona smirked. "Dressy woman know truth." "I like your stance. Better to make your own person than following the crowd," Bubbles agreed. "How did the Jedi even tell any of you apart?" Gallus asked. "I mean, we can tell you three apart, but you get to dress how you want. Don't you guys just have one armor type?" "We may be clones, but we're still individuals. We picked our names, rather than stay with designated birthing numbers. Why do you think that is?" Vargas asked. "Makes things easier, I suppose," Gallus shrugged. "Exactly. Names are more remembered than simple digits. The Kaminoans didn't think so, and neither does the Empire. That's why it's more important than ever to make your choice whether you stay free, or enslaved," Bubbles replied, taking a bite of his food. Some more silence passed among the group, until Silverstream spoke up. "Um... what was it like when you four finally left the Republic?" That got them all to raise their heads. Derpy looked at them, shrugging a bit, but they gave her a few okays to speak up. "Honestly? We didn't even know what we were doing when we left. We were at the end of the war, everyone was being killed everywhere, we had no idea if we would even live to have a new life," Derpy answered. "So when we took our first steps into being free people... it was kind of scary." "The first leap is always scary," Ocellus assured. "But it gets better." "It did. And after I found Ajan, and got our home made... it just felt nice to not worry about anything for once," Derpy cooed. "It was the first time we got to be a family." Team Six took a moment or two to take in Derpy's answer. "Well, you're still together, aren't you? That's a family in my eyes," Sandbar smiled. The rest of the night was enjoyed with nice talks, chats, and idle dinner. And for a while, they didn't have a care in the world other than the people they hung out with. And they wouldn't have traded it for anything else.