//------------------------------// // Chapter 9: Confessions // Story: Victor Squad: New Frontier // by Legofan //------------------------------// ~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 2 days and 13 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~ After a very long and unusually active day, one would find simply laying back and staring into the expansive night sky to be a pleasantly relaxing and unwinding endeavor. Such was the state of Princess Luna, who found it fit to simply sit on the balcony of the tall spire that housed her room and admire her work. Once the party had finished, the Princesses had decided to demonstrate a bit of their culture to Grievous by having Luna bring forth the night in the castle courtyard with him observing. The coming of the night was an act that Luna still felt was under appreciated throughout Equestria, but to her surprise, their alien guest had gained an interest in it. Although, in a Twilightesque bout of scientific mindedness, he had responded to the event by saying something along the lines of, “This explains the planet's irregular rotation,” so she doubted that he had any personal attachments to the night. That had been nearly an hour ago, and after it had been finished, the general had headed off in the direction of the gardens for an unspecified reason, followed soon after by Shining Armor. From her perspective atop the gilded spire, Luna could see the entire expanse of the gardens, and so decided to see what Grievous was up to using the telescope that she had on her balcony at all times. She stood and stretched before taking the two-step trip to the telescope's eyepiece. Peering through, she made a survey of the gardens, quickly finding Grievous standing with his back towards her near a large, flat, and open patch of grass. The general was not alone, however. Before him was another one of his shuttles, which must have landed before she had gotten to her balcony. It was currently having its cargo consisting of a rack of folded battle droids unloaded. Shining Armor stood adjacent to him, holding a map with his magical grip while the two of them studied it. The Princess was far to distant to tell specifically what was happening or even read the map, but she could infer that they were making plans of some sort. But, with Shining Armor there to monitor their guest, she felt that she had no reason to worry about any potential devious plots. So why did she? Throughout his stay, Grievous had been aggressive, violent, and disrespectful to everypony he'd interacted with. The story about his past was a sad one indeed, but Luna didn't feel like the entire truth had been given, nor did she feel that Dooku had been entirely honest with his reasons for wanting to protect them. Unlike her sister, she didn't trust them. Something moving in the sky caught her attention, and she turned her instrument to observe it. It was yet another one of Grievous's shuttles. Suddenly, a large yellow-green circular object with a smaller red circle in its center covered the entirety of Luna's vision. She yelped and stumbled back a couple of steps, revealing the object to be Discord, whose body was dangling off of the balcony railing, and who was immaturely looking through the telescope's wrong end. Realizing this, she angrily stepped forward and turned the lens away from Discord's eye. “I'm sorry; did I disturb you?” he asked innocently. “Thou knowst that your antics are not appreciated with us,” she replied, her eyes furrowed in irritation. “Ah-ah; modern Equuish, please,” he smirked. “Buck off.” Discord reeled back, letting go of the railing, allowing his wings to take over supporting him. Feigning insult, he said, “Well that was a little harsh, Princess. I didn't mean that modern. I meant you no harm, anyhow; I am reformed, after all.” “And all the more bothersome because of it, seeing as we cannot turn you back to stone without good reason.” Luna turned away from him, and he took the opportunity to place himself on the balcony with her, sitting cross-legged in the corner. “I'd have never thought you'd hate me so much, dear Luna, seeing as you are my favorite between you and your sister.” “I'm you favorite?” she asked, turning to him with a curious expression. This expression instantly turned to unsuppressed anger, an unexpected turn that left even Discord surprised. “If We're thoust favorite, then why would thou corrupt our minds to make us into the nightmare that betrayed our sister and all of Equestria, threatening to plunge it into eternal darkness and despair, furthermore forcing our beloved sister to banish us upon the moon for a century? Thou hast ruined our image and trust with our subjects, our sister, and even ourselves, yet you insist on declaring us thoust most preferred!?” “Relax, Luna,” he said casually. “It was nothing more than...light teasing amongst friends.” Luna's face contorted in rage. “But this isn't what I visited you for. I came to talk.” “We've nothing to discuss,” she huffed, turning away from him again, still evidently furious. It took all her self-control to not impale the draconequus with her horn right there. “I believe we do,” Discord replied, spawning a dark blue pillow next to him, beckoning Luna to sit. “And what would that be?” she inquired, though she refused to face him. “Oh, just someone we know that we don't really know.” “Grievous?” “How astute.” Luna once again turned back to Discord. Although she was still furious at Discord, she was also curious to hear what insights the draconequus had about their guest. As such, she trotted over to where he was and plopped her rump on the amazingly soft pillow that he had laid out for her. “What about him?” she asked. “During my time encased in that horrid stone prison,” Discord started, “I spent my time observing events beyond our little world. Obviously, being trapped in stone, I was unable to interact with what I saw, but nonetheless, I enjoyed some of the bouts of chaos I witnessed.” “And this has to do with Grievous...how?” Luna impatiently questioned. “During the last few years of my imprisonment, I happened upon a war torn galaxy. Now, this galaxy had many intriguing individuals, including one Qymaen Jai Sheelal.” “That is Grievous's old name, is it not?” “Another astute acknowledgment, my dear Luna. Now, this fellow was a curious one; very entertaining to follow. I tell you, his past is as distraught as he said it was when he first came here.” Luna glared at Discord. “How dost thou -how do you know what he said when you weren't there?” “If I told you, that'd spoil the fun. Now, back to my story: while I hadn't been accompanying our friend Grievous during his entire history, I know enough about him to know that I don't know how smart your accord with him is. From what I've observed, he has been honest about his past, but his behaviors here differ greatly from his behaviors in his home galaxy. Simply put; I don't trust him entirely.” Luna looked deep in thought, and she stayed that way for several minutes before asking Discord, “And I don't trust you entirely. Why tell me this?” “Because I know you have your doubts about him as well, and I want you to know that you're not the only one.” “How are you aware of what I think?” she suddenly asked angrily. “Oh, Luna, you have no idea how fun it is to romp around in your mind when I'm bored.” At this, Luna leapt to her hooves and pointed her horn at Discord threateningly. “You...you stay out of my head! I'll not have you use me as a tool to threaten Equestria again! Nor will I allow you to drive a wedge between my sister and myself again with your manipulative talk!” “Luna, you misinterpret my intentions,” Discord said with a sigh, though he was sincere with what he had said. “I doubt you,” she affirmed. “You would use any discrepancies between my sister's judgment and my own to have us tear each other down, only to have you take our place. I will not allow a repeat of Nightmare Moon.” Discord stood to his full height, towering over the comparatively short pony princess. “This is not a ruse, and I do not intend on betraying either you or Celestia,” he adamantly defended. “Believe it or not, for reasons that are my own, I genuinely care for the well being of Equestria. I have suspicions that Grievous doesn't. Are you really going to trust Grievous, who you've known for all of two days, more than me, your century old friend?” “You are not my friend,” she spat. “And Grievous is indefinitely more trustworthy than you are. Now, begone, demon, before I charge you of treason.” Now agitated, Discord crossed his arms and looked to Luna. “It is apparent that my input in the situation is not welcome...just as I expected.” He leaned down to look straight into her eyes. “It is also apparent that any involvement on my part is unwelcome. I'll oblige, but if our suspicions are correct, and Grievous does leave Equestria in smoke, it will be your situation to handle.” “I assure you,” she began, “that Grievous is here to benefit us, not destroy us. I will trust Celestia's judgment with him.” “Going back on your instincts?” Discord said as he straightened himself. “I know you well enough to know that you're stubborn with your views. Good night, Princess.” With a flash, he was gone, and with his departure, Luna felt stresses that she didn't even know she had fade to nothingness. She felt proud. She had successfully thwarted a suspected attempt by Discord to usurp the crown. And in modern Equuish, too. ~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 2 days and 15 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~ Behind him, the two massive wooden doors that led to the gardens slammed shut as he made his way in. It had been a very long time since Grievous felt genuinely tired, but this day had been perfect enough to put an end to that. Yet, before he could rest, he still had one more task to complete: report to Dooku. He marched through the castle's massive hallways, diligently making his way towards his new room; or at least he hoped he was. The castle's layout was still largely unknown to him, and the only paths he had truly learned were those from his old room to the throne room and from the throne room to the gardens. Fortunately for him, he made his way to the wing that held his room with little trouble. This was when he forgot where to go. Six short halls spanned out of the main one that Grievous stood in, each one leading to a staircase that, in turn, led to a room. He knew one of them was his, but he just couldn't remember which one. Two of them were out of the question immediately, however; the one to his right was evidently Celestia's due to the sun banner draped near it while the left one was evidently Luna's due to the moon banner. A light trotting sounded behind him, and Grievous turned to see who was approaching him. Slightly to his surprise, it was Celestia. “I thought you'd have retired to you bed by now,” he noted. Celestia's lack of any formal wear indicated that she has at least tried. She shrugged a little; as much as possible while keeping her bare hooves on the ground. “I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd take a short walk to clear my head. Looks like I returned in time, too; you seem lost.” “My memory seems to have failed me,” he replied. Celestia now stood next to Grievous. “Hm...I suppose I should apologize for not letting you get used to the castle before moving you.” “Just point me in the right direction and this'll be behind us,” Grievous requested. “Of course,” Celestia complied, pointing to one of the hallways. “Your room is just up there.” She then turned and daintily made her way down the hallway marked by the sun banner. “Good night!” she offered. “Yes, good night,” Grievous grumbled almost inaudibly, then headed up the stairs to his own room. “Grievous, your report's been delayed. There better be good reason for this,” chastised the small image of Count Dooku. “There is, my lord,” he said, standing in his typical posture, lit only by the eerie blue light of the hologram before him. “I've made some great improvements that you'll be glad to hear,” Grievous said while rising from his half-bow stance. “Well, go on. I've been kept waiting long enough.” Grievous stood to his full height and looked down to the holovid that was resting on his bed. “My lord, my droids and I have already achieved significant standing; militarily, socially, and politically. An invasion occurred this morning and afternoon, led by one of the planet's indigenous species called changelings. The Princess' Royal Guard was proven incapable of withstanding the invasion, but my droids proved to be exceptionally superior to these changelings. The ponies regarded changelings as a major threat, and with them no longer in existence, it is safe to assume that our droids are capable of overpowering most any opposing force born of this world.” “That is good news indeed, general, but for your own sake, tell me that you have more to share,” Dooku warned. Shrugging off the threat, Grievous continued. “As far as I can tell, the Princesses, or at least Celestia, regard us as heroes. She's allowed me to retain control of my droids, but there are still numerous issues that I face.” “And those issues would be...?” “The first one is on your part, my lord,” he scolded, lowering his faceplate to mere inches from the hologram. “You've sent me here to do...something, yet you've failed to tell me exactly what that something is. I need to know what our goals are before I can continue, else I risk ruining your precious plans.” Dooku appeared contemplative. “Grievous,” he said after a few seconds, “it appears that you have done well by Celestia's standards, thus putting my plans further into motion. I will share my goals with you once you've listed your remaining problems.” “The next issue is one I've repeatedly told you of, yet you've failed to fix. All you give me to use are battle droids!” he yelled, beginning to pace. “They're incompetent pawns; they almost always screw something up!” His pacing had left him turned away from the small hologram. Taking a deep breath, Grievous calmed himself and turned his head towards the hologram. He resumed in a near whisper. “What I need are real soldiers; soldiers of flesh and blood who are capable of outstanding thinking and adaptation; soldiers like the Isvoshra.” “It's fortunate that Equestria has its own military, then,” mused Dooku. “They may be weak, but there are certain advantages that they have over our droids. Use them, and fix their weaknesses. Break them if need be.” “This leads to the next obstacle.” Grievous returned to his original position before Dooku. “Their Captain, Shining Armor, is not on agreeable terms with us. Before I came in to report, I was overseeing the deployment of several groups of droids and tanks throughout the country. I've sent a detachment of droids and one AAT to each of Equestria's major population centers, excluding Canterlot, which isn't ideal for tanks anyways. However, he doesn't like that this has been done. He sees it as an act of military occupation, and is fearful of violent consequences.” “Grievous, such deployments should not have been necessary. Something went wrong.” “Indeed they did, my lord. You stupid droids were unable to prevent some clones from reaching the surface. I don't know their numbers, but I've already lost a shuttle, one search party, and the crews from at least three different droch vessels. I would estimate their numbers around forty.” “You cannot blame every issue on the droids. They follow your orders to the letter. It is more likely that the clones breached you due to an oversight on your part.” “Regardless, my lord, Shining Armor is opposed to the movement of our troops. He can do nothing to physically stop us, but we could be compromised if he voices his concerns to the Princesses.” Dooku allowed himself a minute to mull over the information that was presented. “Do you still have a set of confiscated clone armor from the Valiance?” he asked. “I do, but I don't see how it would be useful.” “Think creatively, general. That armor provides us the means to tackle two objectives at once: degrading the Princess' image of the Republic further, and removing Shining Armor as an obstacle.” “Have a droid pose as a clone and assassinate him?” Grievous inquired. A sinister grin spread along Dooku's face. “Indeed.” In an instant, his expression reverted to its unreadable state. “Details regarding that must wait, however, as that is a new development. Is there anything else you wish to rant about?” “Nothing else of immediate concern, my lord.” “If there is nothing else, then it is time to tell you why you are here. Quite simply, I believe the Princesses Celestia and Luna are very powerful Force users, and thus it is imperative that they are sided with us and not the Republic. Additionally, I believe that the entire system in saturated in the presence of the Force. If we were to utilize every Force-sensitive resource on that planet, we would no doubt control the means to win the war.” “They don't have the Force here; they use some other power that they call magic,” countered Grievous. “What they call it is irrelevant, the fact remains that it is a manifestation of the Force. Powerful at that; tell me, what's have you seen 'magic' do so far?” “I've seen telekinesis, teleportation, shape shifting, its use as a projectile, and the rotating of the planet. Additionally, they claim to have several powerful magical artifacts known as the Elements of Harmony.” “Telekinesis is a basic feat by way of the Force, but none in our galaxy have been able to teleport themselves or shape shift. The manipulation of matter on the scale required to do that is nigh unreachable for us here. As for moving the planet? Not even master Yoda would be able to do that. Surely you are seeing their value as allies?” “I am,” answered Grievous. “Do these Elements of Harmony have any merit?” “It is likely that they are a Force-sensitive artifact, much like the starforge from our own galaxy. However, this is no longer relevant, as you have your mission.” “I understand, my lord. One more question, if you'll permit it.” “Ask it, then.” “Why didn't you come here yourself to handle the diplomacy?” “That is a sensitive issue that a non-Force wielder like you would likely not understand. But you're smart, so I'll attempt to explain anyways. To put it simply, the Force is so concentrated there that any Force-sensitive being from our galaxy would suffer terrible pain, among other things,” explained Dooku. “What proof of this do you have?” “My master has informed me of this. He managed to obtain one of the Republic's security tapes; a top secret one from the Valiance. The tape in question was a conversation between the Jedi Poh Drüne and one of his clones. In the tape, he describes having such feelings.” “That would explain why he was sedated when I killed him...” mused Grievous. “However, that concludes my report. Is there anything else you require of me?” “There is nothing else. Do what you must. Remember, Celestia either chooses to side with us, or she is removed before she can make the wrong choice. Do not report again until there is an important update.” With those parting words, the hologram vanished, plunging the room into complete darkness. After placing the holovid back on his waist, Grievous stepped over to the long side of his new bed and sat. For several minutes he sat there reflecting back on the conversation he had just had. Celestia would back a powerful ally indeed, he finally concluded. It'd be a shame to see her fall. The day had been long and stressful, so Grievous lay himself across the mattress. It was sized for him and the frame held. As comfortable as he could get, Grievous let himself fall into a restful and dreamless sleep for the first time in a very long time. ~~~San Palomino Desert, Equestria, 3 days, 4 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~ Once again Victor squad found themselves amidst a calm sea of golden sand. The near midday sun beat down relentlessly on the small group as they made their way north, hoping to run into Ghastly Gorge or some other landmark that was present on the map. Ever since their departure from Haze's residence a couple of hours ago, silence had pervaded them, broken only by the rumbling of their speeders' engines. As before, Viktor drove in the lead with Moon in his sidecar while Spy piloted the other, Gore in the sidecar and Shy mounted awkwardly on the beams attaching it to the speeder's frame. R8 flew between them. Their small crate of ordinance rested with Shy while the other larger crate of their precious few rations stayed bound to Viktor's vehicle. “Ugh, can we have breakfast now? It's been, like, eighteen hours since we've eaten last,” Spy said, finally breaking their silence. “Always thinking with you're stomach, aren't you?” Gore remarked rhetorically. “Spy, we can't quite afford to have breakfast anymore,” replied Viktor. “We've very few rations left, and we can't risk staying put for too long. Just long enough for R8 to recover when he needs it, no longer; at least, until we get the cover of night.” “Well, that blows,” muttered Spy, effectively ending that argument. Of course, he couldn't help himself from starting another. “You know, Gore, maybe you should let the egghead here ride the sidecar for once. He can't be comfortable back there, and you've rode it the entire time.” Shy answered without turning to face him. “No, it's really fine; I don't mean to impose.” He was left unheard. “Hey, he basically claimed that spot himself,” Gore defended. “I'd be willing to relinquish this seat, but he's insistent on sitting there with my chain gun. Something about knowing the angle at which to point it so that the repulsorlift on it will counterbalance his weight, or something like that.” “Sounds like a bunch of bantha dung if you ask me. I think you're just greedily taking that seat for yourself, and-” “You've no right to call me greedy. As far as I remember, I don't even recall you offering to let Shy drive. If you're concerned about his comfort, why not let him take your seat? Hypocrite.” “Hey!” Spy yelled, offended. “Don't call me things I don't know the meaning of!” “How could you not know what hypocrite means? You're the master of hypocrisy!” Gore yelled in response, flabbergasted. “You're more brainless than I thought.” “I make up for it with bigger balls,” Spy countered casually. Gore was irritated. “You claim to have balls, yet you use a skimpy DC-15s. Real men use chain guns.” “Sure they do, but only if they're real men that are compensating for something.” “Why you little son of a...!” There they were, at another pointless argument...again. Honestly, how had Victor squad gotten anything done so far? “I would imagine that you find the behavior of Gore and Spy to be disappointing at times, Viktor,” commented Moon. “It's obnoxious, but manageable. It'd be nice if Spy was a little less sarcastic and provocative, and it'd be nice if Gore was a little less irritable, but their absurd interactions are still inexplicably charming,” he replied. “Charming? You find such dysfunctionality...charming?” asked a bewildered Moon. “You do know that their behavior is...wrong. Clones are not supposed to be so aggressive towards each other over menial things like their preferred weapon. They seem like they can be counterproductive and potentially compromising.” “What do you have against them, Moon? Despite their differences, they work together efficiently, from what I've seen. As long as they get the job done, I could care less how they behave in their spare time...right, so maybe I do care about what they do, but so long as they're not doing stupid things, I'm cool with them.” “We obviously have different views on what constitutes 'stupid',” muttered Moon. Viktor looked to Moon. “That's fine by me. We may be clones, but we are nonetheless independent beings with our own thoughts and beliefs.” “Quite the profound view...for a clone.” At that, Viktor cocked his head to the side confusedly. “I'm not sure why you're...thinking negatively about clones, considering you are one. And if it's any consolation, commandos like myself are trained to think more freely that standard clones. I know; I was once standard myself.” Looking ahead, Viktor swerved around a decent sized boulder that happened to be in his way. First impressive geological formation in a while...maybe we're getting somewhere? When he reverted his attention to Moon, he found him chuckling. “You are aware that that's one of the reasons standard clones like me have some disdain for commandos, right?” “I know,” Viktor replied honestly. “And conversely, commandos have some disdain towards standards due to their lack of higher thinking and diversity...at least, pure-bred commandos do. During commando training and on my first deployment as a commando on Christophsis, my squad regarded me as inferior to them because I was not fully in the commando mindset.” “And look what happened; they all die and you get deployed on some random extragalactic planet doing recon with some inferior clones.” “Moon, I don't want you considering yourself or any member of my squad 'inferior', especially compared to me. I'm not perfect, and my record probably has more blemishes that anyone else here anyways. By way of bookkeeping, I'm the most inferior, and I wouldn't have it any other way.” Moon shook his head and sighed. “I don't think anyone here is inferior...I know it. And-” “That was an order, Moon!” The sudden rise in volume stunned the Sergeant for a second. “I-uh...yes, sir. Permission to continue, sir?” “Permission granted.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “As I was about to say, you'd be surprised to hear about the service record of one of your men here.” Viktor gave no inclination of interest. “Or lack thereof.” “'Lack thereof'?” Viktor repeated. He turned to Moon. “What do you mean by that?” “I can't tell you that, sir, nor can I tell you who the soldier in question is; those are private and classified details, and you knowing them will not assist you in completing your assignment. I also have directives to stop you should you attempt to gain this information from the subject without his consent.” “I'm sure it'll come up in conversation later,” Viktor grunted, returning his focus to not crashing into the vast nothing before him. “I'm certain it won't.” The commando gave no response, and the two fell into an awkward silence. As a whole, though, the group was not silent, as Spy and Gore continued to argue, the topic somehow having gone to which Jedi general was the manliest. Courtesy of Spy, the argument was in favor of Ahsoka Tano. Grass was a welcome sight. After nearly three days stuck in the dreary land of browns and tans, the green was a welcome oasis of color. “Well, that's a nice change,” Spy remarked. “Pleasantries will have to wait, Spy,” Viktor retorted, slowing his speeder down while Spy followed suit. “Now that we have gotten out of the desert, we should take the opportunity to find about where we are and get a heading.” No one complained, and the tiny convoy halted. “Might as well let R8 take a few minutes to cool off anyways,” he muttered to himself before addressing his squad. “Alright, Shy, you study the map and tell us which way to go. Moon and Gore will stay here and keep watch for Seps. Spy, you're with me in checking the ground for anything that may be of interest. We'll stay within range of short-range radio. Understood?” “Got it,” they all said in their own way. Viktor and Spy left, leaving Gore and Moon to sit there in silence while Shy toiled with his task. For several minutes, Gore watched as Shy used the hard copy of the map that they had, actually writing on it and doing what seemed to be far more that simply trying to locate them. Finally, Gore's curiosity finally got the best of him, and he approached Shy. “Gore, you're supposed to be watching for Seps, not pestering Shy,” Moon complained. Gore shrugged him off. “We don't need two sets of eyes for that; we're such a small group.” He now stood behind Shy and looked down at the map that was riddled with numbers and equations. “But Shy here is supposed to be finding out where we are, not doing...this math stuff.” “I'm doing my task,” Shy defended, looking to Gore, with an offended tone. “I've been keeping careful track of all of our migrations. Everything from our speeds, times, travel durations, and direction I've been keeping tabs on. And now I'm using that data to not only try to pinpoint our location, but to see if I can make this map more systematic.” “Oh,” said Gore awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to that. “Well, uh, sorry for accusing you of goofing off, there. You're no Spy, I guess, so I'll just...leave you alone." And so he did. He went back to where Moon was a few paces away and gave him a hand signal indicating the wish to talk over a private channel, to which Moon complied. “What is it?” Moon asked irritatedly. “Shy's awfully smart and meticulous, isn't he?” Gore asked rhetorically. “It's no wonder why Shy has been Viktor's most trusted man so far, but somehow, he seems a little too overqualified for something as menial as recon.” “Your point? Spit it out; we've got a job we're supposed to be doing.” “Shy's just a Corporal. That's no commanding position, that's just combat prestige. But yet, he thinks beyond the capacity of what he should be thinking. He's just a run-of-the-mill standard sharpshooter, but he's acting, in the professional way, much like, nay, beyond Viktor.” “I don't quite follow,” replied Moon. He immediately face palmed after saying that, as he dragged on the conversation longer than necessary. Gore, meanwhile, hesitated as he tried to form his thoughts into words. “Well, let me give you an example of what I mean. When we first got here and checked out that Appleloosa place, it was Shy who formulated the proceedings. And you were there when Shy unveiled the plan of action that was abandoned yesterday, then gave us a new plan of attack. It's almost as if leadership of this mission has slowly gone to Shy. Now that I think of it, the dynamic between Shy and Viktor have seemed to have comically switched: Viktor is the commando who's taking orders from a standard while Shy is the standard giving orders to the commando.” “I'm sure there's a...good explanation for that,” Moon muttered. “You're point is noted, but irrelevant. Now, you had a job you were assigned by your Captain, I suggest you do them.” Gore started to speak, but he was cut off by Moon before a complete word came out. “That's an order by both your superiors.” “Yer, Sergeant,” grumbled Gore as he returned to his duties. Their brief stop, over the course of an hour, soon became an hour long stop. Much to Viktor's annoyance, Shy was the one holding the group back this time, refusing to oblige his commands that they were to get moving. But finally, at the end of that hour, Shy had claimed his work finished and now approached Viktor with it.” “You know I respect you, Shy,” Viktor started as the timid clone approached him, “but my orders take precedence over the musings of any one of us here.” “I know, sir, and I apologize, but I think you'll like what I was able to figure out.” “If at the very least you know where we are and where we're going to go next, I'll at least be satisfied.” “Right. Well, throughout our travels since coming here, I've been monitoring every important statistical detail about them, hoping to sometime have enough time to systematize the map. And I did. I'll not bore you with the details, but I was able to obtain a rough grid for the area shown on the map. The map was surprisingly close to scale; it's fairly accurate, and now we have some sort of coordinate system to go off of. I've also been able to place a couple of key locations down, namely our original LZ and Haze's cave.” Viktor sighed. “Shy, this is impressive and all, but we've got to go soon, so just tell me where we are and what direction we go in now.” “Yes, sir,” said Shy. “So we're basically directly south of Ghastly Gorge; lucky us. So all we need to do is follow the gorge -once we reach it- north till we intersect this road that leads to Applewood. We cross that road and follow the trees on the opposite side of the road to some tracks, which we'll cross and then be in Froggy Bottom bog.” “Very good,” Viktor complimented. He turned to his squad mates. “Off your shebs, everyone, we're moving out.” With that, the group got back into their original formation. “We didn't even get to eat,” Spy murmured to himself, and then they were off. If Viktor had gotten any sense of time since landing, he would estimate the time to be a few hours into the afternoon; perhaps around four o'clock by the standard twenty-four hour clock. The sun was no longer at its climax, and the flat grasslands around them started gaining a more yellowish hue. Presumably, Ghastly Gorge was behaving the same way, but seeing as it wasn't anywhere in their sight like it was supposed to be at this point, it was hard to tell. Something had gone wrong, either in their travel, Shy's calculations, or with the map itself, but they certainly weren't where they wanted to be. Shy had taken Gore's spot in the sidecar so that he could recheck his work, but that had been several minutes ago, and Viktor feared that they may be lost. The ground became progressively less flat, beginning with depressions that morphed into fully mature hills. In the far distance ahead of them was a hill that rivaled any they had seen since leaving the desert. It was more of a ridge, really, spanning across the entirety of the horizon in front of them. Some boulders dotted its crest, and as they got closer, they saw other large rocks resting on the hill's side, and its true size became apparent. It inclined up no less that thirty feet at a shallow angle, nearing forty five degrees about halfway before reaching its parabolic top. They reduced their speed so as to not crash unnecessarily. The engines of their vehicles quieted as a result, and Viktor could swear that he heard light marching. That's odd. The group passed over the crest, unveiling a relatively steep sixty-foot decline and the reason for the sounds Viktor heard: a detachment of droids and an AAT. Viktor and Spy turned their speeders around as fast as they could, but they had not escaped notice from the droids. A couple of shots were fried off in their direction and wildly missed. Given the temporary safety of the cover the hill provided, Viktor began issuing orders. “We're not outrunning that tank,” he said. “There's no cover for us if we run. Gore, you're with me. We'll use the rocks as cover to take out the infantry. Shy, find a sniping position. Moon, go with him; it'll be the safest spot where you can still be useful. Spy, do something to distract the tank.” Some droids could be heard finishing the trip up their side of the hill. “Hurry!” Within a few second, everyone had dismounted save for Spy who insisted on using the speeder to distract the tank. It was reckless, but there was no time to argue. And, Spy was ex-Lightning Squadron, so what could go wrong? Some droid heads peeked up from over the top of the hill and were quickly gunned down by the entire lot of them. Before more droids could make it up, Viktor and Gore had already dashed to the boulders there where they got a good glimpse as to what they were facing. Excluding the few droids that they had taken down already, Viktor estimated thirty five B1 battle droids and fifteen B2's, then there were definitively three commando droids, one commando droid captain, one magna guard, and one AAT. Victor squad had their work cut out for them. The tank fired, and Viktor was glad for the droids' incredibly terrible accuracy. The blast landed a couple of feet from the boulder he was hiding behind, kicking up vast amounts of dirt and grass. Before it got a second shot off, Spy launched himself and the speeder over the top of the hill, crushing a B1 that was attempting to scale the sleep incline as he landed. The tank recognized the speeder as a more dangerous threat, and its guns attempted to follow the fast moving vehicle, allowing Viktor and Gore to begin to take down the infantry. The droids gave of a hefty amount of suppressing fire. Viktor tried his best to get some shots off, but he only managed a couple of seconds to do so at a time. Gore was having worse luck; with the bulk and rev up time for his weapon, he was effectively useless. Nearly fifty feet down the ridge in the direction that the droids had originally been coming from, Shy found himself a good spot behind the droids. Moon lay down as low and comfortably as he could while still being able to assist despite his broken arm. Together, they fired upon the unknowing infantry. At this range, Moon's pistol found itself significantly less effective than Shy's rifle, but regardless, they had taken down at least six droids before their location had been discovered. Shy and Moon had diverted the main fire from the droids enough so that Viktor was more capable of defending his position. Beside him, Gore returned his chain gun to his back in favor of his pistol. Between Shy and Moon and Viktor and Gore, the droids had already taken significant losses: half of the B1's were down as well as a couple of B2's. Again the AAT fired, and again it missed as Spy went for another pass, firing off three shots before zooming past the clunky vehicle. And for the heck of it, he ran down an unsuspecting commando droid. Predictably, the tank pivoted its cannon in an attempt to line up a shot. Spy circled back away from where the bulk of the skirmish was taking place, though he had earned himself attention by running down the commando droid. The droids' fire was now spit in three ways; one part towards Viktor and Gore, another towards Shy and Moon, and a smaller portion in his general direction. He circled around and made another successful sweep...successful as in he didn't get blown to pieces. His shots, however, failed to do any noticeable damage. To the tank's armor; just like the last few times. “Hey Boss man,” he said, narrowly avoiding a surprisingly close shot from the AAT. “We might want a change of strategy here; this speeder's guns aren't doing osik.” “Keep up the distraction,” replied Viktor. “My DC-17 has a grenade launcher attachment. The tank's armor stands no chance against it, but these infantry need to be taken down first.” “Copy that,” confirmed Spy. Then, he pivoted the speeder in a tight turn, hoping that the unexpected maneuver would throw the tank crew off for a few seconds. What he forgot, however, was the fact that this speeder had a sidecar. The sidecar rammed into the ground, leaving a deep impression in the dirt where it had made contact. Spy tried to regain stability, but was too late. The AAT fired again. The sidecar was torn off the speeder and shredded; large pieces of shrapnel flew in all directions, though none of it hit anything. Spy nearly lost control of the rebalanced speeder, but his quick reflexes allowed him to save it, though any chance of shooting the tank that pass was out of the question. “Di'kut, you okay?” Gore asked concernedly as he saw half the speeder explode from atop the hill. “Aw, the brute cares for me doesn't he?” teased Spy nonchalantly as if nothing had happened. “I want the pleasure of killing you myself,” muttered Gore as he returned his attention to the vastly dwindled number of droids. A quick recount told him that five B1's remained, along with seven B2's, one commando droid, the droid captain, the tank, and...well, the magna droid hadn't been killed, but it wasn't there either. Where could it have gone? Both Shy and Moon lay behind the cover of the hill; after a stray shot from the tank had nearly gotten them, they both agreed it best to wait till a safer time to resume firing. They had waited like this for around a half-minute before Shy moved back to his original spot. What he was not expecting was the sparkling pink shaft the barely missed his head as soon as he broke cover. He rolled back several feet and Moon tried his best to crawl next him, but his injury was making it difficult. Not a second later, the magna guard leapt over the top of the ridge and jabbed his staff into Moon's back, as he had not yet begun to stand. Dangerously large amounts of electricity coursed through Moon, and he screamed in pain. It was short lived as the now standing Shy charged the droid and knocked it off of him. The droids recovered quickly, though, and swept its arm out, catching Shy in the face with a painful crack. Shy lost his balance and fell over, rolling to the bottom of the hill before finally coming to rest. As Shy recovered, the magna guard walked up to Moon, who was himself recovering from the unexpected and painful jolt. The droid reached down and grabbed Moon by the neck. He was in no state to try to fight back, so he let himself go limp in the droid's grip. Surprisingly, the droid didn't crush his windpipe like he was expecting; it instead threw him up and over the top of the hill, where he landed on his broken limb, exposed to the sight of the remaining droids. The droid turned around and began walking towards Shy, who had managed to get back to his feet and draw his knife, which he held in his left hand. Shy matched the droid's movements, and within a few seconds, the two opponents were only a few feet away. The magna guard began spinning its electrostaff around it in a fantastic display of precision and dexterity, and the flurry of swings ended with a horizontal swing at Shy. The clone stepped back, the weapon swinging at a safe several inches from his face. Immediately, he lunged forwards with his knife, bringing it towards the droid's head. In response to Shy's movements, the magna guard brought the staff back in the direction he had just swung, but Shy already had his right arm up to block. The weapon and his arm collided with a loud clang. Shy's knife plunged into one of the droid's eye sockets, releasing an electrical discharge that was harmlessly inhibited by the rubber grip of Shy's weapon. The droid reeled back, but was otherwise unaffected by the attack. It spun its staff in front of it in a defensive circle, driving Shy back. Once Shy was around six feet away from the magna guard, it thrust its weapon forward in a stab. Shy moved to the side of the predictable attack, grabbing onto the staff with his unarmed hand and pulling it forward, pulling the droid off balance. It fell to the ground, but it managed to twist itself so that its front faced Shy as the clone pounced the fallen droid. The droid held its staff with both hands, pushing up while Shy lay on top of it, pushing down on the staff. The clone was strong, but the droid was ever so slowly managing to push the clone off. Unexpectedly, Shy took his right arm off the staff and brought it down onto the droid's other eye. Its face was dented in and its eye was destroyed where Shy had punched. The droid, with a final thrust, launched Shy off of it. Using the newly found momentum, Shy rolled behind the droid. It stood up, its now useless head unmoving as it tried to locate the clone using the optical sensor in its chest. Shy stayed behind the droid's back until it stopped turning, at which point he embraced it with his right arm and shoved the knife into the light in its chest. Anther discharge indicated that the damage was done. The droid twitched, then went limp in Shy's grasp. Letting go, the dead droid toppled to the ground. There was no time to for him to celebrate his victory. However; Moon was injured and now at risk of death. Shy's pistol and rifle had escaped him during the tussle, so he grabbed the nearest weapon he could find, the electrostaff, and rushed over the hill to get Moon to safety. The battle with the infantry was slowly going downhill. As it turns out, the B2's that were accompanying this group of droids were grenadier models; as such, one the first line of droids, namely almost all of the B1's, were taken out, they stepped up and began raining explosives over Viktor and Gore's cover. Like their B1 counterparts, these B2's were pathetically bad shots, but nonetheless, they drove the two clones out from piece of cover to piece of cover. To add to the mess, Viktor had begun switching out for his own grenade launcher, but now that he had to concentrate on avoiding being blown to bits, his half converted weapon was in no state to fire anything. That, and the fact that Shy and Moon were not providing support fire, left them all quite exposed. Not even Spy had escaped being a target from the rain of grenades. With one of the B2's trained on him as well as the AAT, he was finding it difficult to do much of anything offensive. For many minutes they were at such a standoff. Off in the distance, Spy saw Shy run over the top of the hill to where Moon had been thrown to, surprisingly carrying an electrostaff. “'Ey boss man, I think Shy has more explaining to do. The magna guard is down, and it looks like Moon is too.” “Thanks for the update. Keep them distracted.” “Trying to, boss, but this grenadier isn't making it easy for-” BOOM. One of the BARC's engines blew to pieces, spreading more shrapnel over the ground. Back near the road, a B2 placed a fresh grenade in its arm and turned its attention to the clones still on the hill. The speeder wobbled uncontrollably, veering towards the small group of remaining droids. Finally, the remaining engine gave out, and the speeder hurtled into the droids, running down the commando droid captain. The speeder skidded on its side, leaving a trail of upturned soil and vegetation in its wake. To Spy's good fortune, it remained mostly intact and didn't flip, though he was dazed as he toppled out of the seat and landed hard on the ground. The wind was knocked out of him and thinking coherently suddenly became very difficult. The flaming wreckage provided cover as he recuperated from his near death experience, and he dared not move. “Spy!” yelled Gore. Spy mumbled something undecipherable. Thankfully, the speeder crashing through their ranks had offered enough of a distraction for Viktor to finally assemble the grenade launcher. He loaded his first of his limited supply into the chamber and peeked up over the rock he was hiding behind. The tank was right there, not even aiming for him and Gore; such an easy target. No, instead, the cannon was aimed extremely distantly from where he, Gore, and now Spy were. That meant that... Viktor turned to see where the tank was aiming. Off in the distance, he saw Shy with Moon slung over his shoulder retreating behind the hill. The issue was, they weren't behind the hill. “Shy, behind you!” exclaimed Viktor. As soon as his warning was sounded, the AAT fired. Dirt erupted from where they had been. He saw two bodies soar through the air and land on the opposite side of the hill. Enraged, Viktor opened fire on the tank. The explosion tore a large segment off of the tank; chunks of it flew everywhere, most of the large and dangerous ones not straying too far from the chassis. Other pieces impaled and took down some of the remaining droids. For good measure, Viktor launched another grenade at the tank. It was almost unrecognizable. He crouched down behind cover to convert his weapon back to its standard function. “Gore, dispose of the remaining droids now! Shy and Moon are down, possibly dead.” Holstering his pistol, Gore withdrew his chain gun. He revved it and prepared to unleash its full furry upon the droids below. He broke cover and was about to fire when Spy sprung up from the wreckage, taking the droids by surprise. The unexpected attack tore through them, and within one clip, Spy had downed the remainder of the droids. Viktor gave no time to congratulate them in their small victory, however. As soon as the droids were confirmed to be inoperable, he made straight for Shy and Moon's location. When he got there, he saw that R8 had already left their remaining speeder behind to check up on them. Surprisingly and to his relief, Shy was moving; in fact, he looked well for having just been shot by a tank, and he was having R8 help him with the disassembly of the nearby magna guard. On the other hand, Moon was obviously in bad shape; really bad. The arm that had once been unbroken evidently was now, the armor around it having bent slightly. One of his shoulder pads had been torn off, and the rest of his armor was riddled with dents, including one big one right over his stomach. In no time at all, Viktor was by Moon's side and was fiddling with his field medical kit. He produced a small vial of painkillers and a syringe. After attaching the vial to the syringe, he infected it into Moon's shoulder. “Don't waste you resources on me,” he weakly groaned, surprising Viktor by not only being alive, but conscious too. “There's no way I'm making it out of this.” “Sergeant, I'm going to do whatever is in my power to ensure your survival,” assured Viktor. “Don't be a fool, Captain; the mission is more important that I am,” yelled Moon, though he clenched in pain from the exertion. “Not to me.” And suddenly, Moon began to laugh. His body shook in hysterics, though his injuries quickly forced him to cough and end his fit. By now, Spy and Gore had made their ways to Viktor's side. “It's funny you say that,” Moon started quietly, “because that is why you're here on this rock.” The puzzled look on Viktor's face was masked by his helmet, but his confusion was clearly shown through his tone. “I'm...not sure I follow.” “I'm not sure I should tell you; that's classified...but, I'm about to die, so I've got nothing to lose. I told you before you took off from the Loyalty that you were all extremely qualified for this mission.” A heavy cough interrupted him. “But, that's only half true; you're qualified, but for reasons that you wouldn't expect. “Viktor, you're a failure and an insult to commandos. Your 'men are more important than the mission' mentality not only got your squad mates killed on Christophsis, but it's also what made you fail the mission. And it was a simple scouting mission, too. There's no reason that that mission should have failed, yet thanks to your contributions, it did. Since your promotion as a commando, you've been nothing but derogatory; a waste of resources. And so the Republic is cutting it losses. “And you two, Gore and Spy, you're here for similar reasons. You're both defective. Your personalities are not correct, and your inability to work harmoniously with others is bad for efficiency. You two are the types of clones that would have never made it through training. But, the Republic is correcting that oversight now.” Shy slowly approached the four of them, followed closely by R8. Viktor looked back to check him out, and was surprised at what he saw. Around his left leg was a splint made of two halves of a magna guard arm tied loosely with the wires they once covered, and his gait was assisted by a crutch that was the guard's electrostaff with its hands welded onto it, one under the armpit for support, the other down lower to be used as a grip for more comfortable use. “And you,” Moon spat, turning his head towards Shy. “Oh, you have no idea what kind of trouble you've caused the Republic. I don't know what you were thinking, going on the little escapade of yours, but the Republic figured you out, Shy...or do you still prefer Reaper?” “Moon, what are you talking about?” asked Viktor. He was promptly ignored. Moon coughed again, splattering blood on the interior of his helmet. “I'd say not to consider running off like you did before, Reaper, but you won't get the chance,” he said in a quieter voice “What do you mean by that?” a confused and irritated Spy asked. “To be truthful, none of you will get that chance,” replied Moon, his voice fading as he progressed. “You were told to expect extraction once your goal was complete, but the truth is, that was never even considered. You're expected to die here. By what, they don't know, but they don't care either. As long as you put a hiccup in the Seps plans and are no longer able to hinder the progress of the Republic, that's all that's needed from you.” “So let me get this straight,” Spy began. “The higher-ups sent us four on this mission, not expecting us to come back, just because we hurt the Republic...somehow. And then, even if we were to survive the process of kicking the Seps out and gathering intel, we'd still be left here?” “Precisely,” confirmed Moon. “That's hardly reasonable or justifiable.” “Not justifiable?” laughed Moon. “Not reasonable? Spy, this course of action is both. You're all faulty; Viktor's a failure, you and Gore are defective, and Shy is a traitor. None of these are good for the Republic, so once they had this chance to get rid of you and get something progressive done, they were smart to take it. Accomplish two goals at once. Perfectly reasonable.” “But...why would the Republic do that? We're not droids, who can be expended at will for failing a task; no offense R8. We're men; real, live individuals who learn from their mistakes so as to not do them again. The Republic can't justly sentence us to death like this without even giving us a chance to redeem ourselves.” “So the Republic is punishing Spy and I for something we can't control?” interjected Gore. Moon coughed heavily, and his breathing slowed. Drawing a pained breath, he spoke faintly again. “The Republic is punishing you because you're not up to standard.” “That's not fair or right!” Spy proclaimed, throwing his arms up for emphasis. “It's not your place to determine what's right or not,” countered Moon. “Your job is to follow orders. And if that means you don't come back, you don't come back. Likewise, you have orders to complete your mission, and my broken body will only hinder you. Now you leave me to die in peace and continue on your doomed mission.” Moon then broke into a coughing fit. His body shuddered as his vitals finally gave out, and his head slumped to the ground. Moon was dead. The remaining clones stared at the body in a tense silence, which Viktor was the first to break. “Those were some...unsettling revelations. But, we should honor his last request and continue the mission.” “Any why should we do that?” Spy questioned. “What reasons do we have to help the Republic who so blatantly disregard our well being? What have they done for us that makes them deserve our sacrifice?” “Spy, now is not the time to argue! We shouldn't stay here too much longer.” “Exactly what I was thinking,” muttered Spy as he passed Viktor and headed towards the remaining speeder. “But if the Republic doesn't want me, then I don't want the Republic. Sorry guys, you're on your own.” He mounted the speeder, and before any of them could object, he took off, following the road in the direction the droids had originated from. The rest of Victor squad stared after him in silence. “He just...took our speeder and abandoned us, didn't he?” asked Gore in disbelief. “He did.” “If we run into him again, I am going to murder him.”