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Peril on Patrol

Written for Vode An: A Clone Trooper Zine

Sister could never decide if she loved or loathed being on patrol.

 

On the one hand, it was critical for the security of the base. She was proud that Commander Cody trusted her skills to be among the first line of defense.

 

On the other hand, it was painfully boring.

 

Well, “boring” wasn’t quite the right word. Patrolling the perimeter of the hastily-established base required Sister to be focused and disciplined, alert for anything that might signal a hostile presence. But a good patrol meant nothing happened, which often led to strung-out nerves for no reason. So, every clone regularly on patrol duty had developed the skill of keeping watch for anything out-of-place, while also using the opportunity to relax.

 

Now, Sister uttered a quiet laugh, filtered through her helmet.

 

“Don’t tell me you actually watch those Jedi romance holos?”

 

“Sure,” Wooley said, inclining his own bucket towards her. “Jedi romance, Deep Space horrors, Wild Space adventures, Shilian dramas – I haven’t found a genre I don’t like.”

 

Sister shook her head. “Romances are fine, but I can’t watch the Jedi ones with a straight face. Not now that I know they’re only people.” She pivoted suddenly and scanned the land behind them, hands tight on her blaster rifle. Rusty-red scrubgrass, arching silicone formations, and looming crimson plants surrounded them, but her HUD didn’t detect any movement, heat signatures, or electromagnetic signals. No sign of any Separatists or local fauna following them through the Anaxes forest. She walked backwards for a few paces before turning around again. “Still clear.”

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“Figures.” Wooley did a brief scan of the foliage to the right before looking up as they passed beneath one of the red plants. “Y’know, those remind me of the piona jellyfish back on Kamino.”

​

Once he mentioned it, Sister couldn’t help but agree. Long, undulating tendrils dangled from the bulbous, blossoming tops; so similar to the frills that dragged lazily behind the incredibly toxic – and absurdly large – languid invertebrates that drifted through the Kaminoan seas. 

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“Uh, they are plants, right? Not some sort of creature lying in wait for a tasty clone to devour?” She deliberately maneuvered around a particularly long tendril.

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Wooley shrugged. “Could be a clone-eating plant, too. You never know with this galaxy.”

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And what a galaxy it was. In the short time she’d been outside of Kamino’s torrential storms, Sister had seen more creatures, people, and landscapes than her studies had prepared her for. She did another sweep of their surroundings. Still no droids or lifeforms around. The creatures here seemed skittish.

​

They lapsed back into silence as they climbed a particularly rocky slope. It proved to be a hill, set at a higher elevation than the land around it. They paused to catch their breath, and Sister gazed around. A light mist wrapped around their legs, hugging the ground and stretching as far as she could see, weaving among the stalks and trunks of the reddish land. Spires of rounded rocks dotted the landscape, casting long shadows as the sun sunk lower behind hazy mountains.

​

“Do you ever miss Kamino?” Wooley asked, staring at the sunset.

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“No.”

​

Sister was surprised how quickly she answered. She’d answered so seriously, without thought, that her voice dropped nearly to her brothers’ pitch.

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Wooley’s helmet tilted slightly. “Not even a little?”

​

She cleared her throat. “No,” she said again, raising her voice to a more comfortable pitch. “I never felt… safe. I don’t know about your division, but in Tipoca City, to be different was to risk disappearing. The Kaminoans didn’t like ‘different’.”

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Wooley nodded, but didn’t say anything.

​

“But my brothers took care of me. They always protected me, always made me feel safe.” Kamino was never home to Sister; home was wherever her brothers were. She pulled herself out of her reverie. “Do you miss it?”

​

Wooley sounded sheepish as he admitted, “Sometimes. But I might just miss the idea of it. Life was so slow and steady back then, and now it’s nothing but movement, you know? Sometimes, I just want to have a chance to rest like we used to.”

​

“Rest will come.” She didn’t bother to say more; they were both thinking it. Sister adjusted some controls on her HUD and did another sweep. The Republic base was well-concealed in the distance, and only came up because she knew what she was looking for. Beyond that, no structures pinged on her scanners.

​

A comm notice popped up on Sister’s HUD. Moments later, Trapper’s voice crackled in her ear. “You two are standing out like sunburnt taun-tauns up there. If you’re done with your sightseeing, it looks like our patrol loops are about to intersect. Want to join up for the last leg?”

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Wooley nodded, and Sister replied, “It’ll be good to have you.”

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“See you in three minutes, vod.”

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Together, Sister and Wooley began their descent down the other side of the hill. It was considerably steeper than what they’d just climbed, so it took some careful maneuvering.

​

As they got back below the treeline, Sister asked, “Where do you want to retire to?”

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Wooley gave a startled laugh. “Retire to? I think we need to survive the war first.”

​

“C’mon, you’ve thought about it.” Sister bumped him gently with her shoulder. “We’ve all thought about it. Don’t get bogged down with the existentialism.” She paused, considering the landscape bathed in red sunset. “I’d get a bunch of brothers to settle on Christophsis. The land’s covered in these gorgeous turquoise crystals. The way the light catches at dawn and sunset – I’ve never seen so many colors.” After nearly a decade of the stark white walls of Kaminoan cities, she was determined to experience as many colors as her vision spectrum would allow.

​

Wooley was quiet as he thought. He parted a particularly dense patch of scrubgrass with his rifle before moving on. “Of the places I’ve been,” he said at length, “I think I’d like to live on Ryloth. The area we were in was hot, but there are a bunch of different biomes to roam between. I like the Twi’leks. They’re good people, and, I dunno … I’d like to help them, if I can.”

​

Heat signatures registered on Sister’s HUD. She held up a hand to quiet Wooley and adjusted the specs. She relaxed; the forms were clones.

​

“Trapper, how goes the western bank?” Wooley asked as the other two came around a low-grown plant. He took a moment to lean his blaster against a boulder and shake the stiffness out of his arms. Sister followed his lead; the tightness in her limbs relaxed and she took in a steadying breath.

​

“Nothing to report,” Trapper answered as he approached. “Unless you count a nesting viper that Longshot tripped over.”

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“You said you wouldn’t bring it up,” Longshot grumbled from behind him, squaring his shoulders.

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“I lied,” Trapper replied mildly.

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Sister grinned at Longshot, even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know you were here! You get reassigned?”

​

“My squad just got back from a survey on one of the orbital moons.” Her batchmate took off his bucket and wiped his brow. “Nothing there but a bunch of rocks.” Longshot pulled out his canteen and took a swig before offering it to Trapper.

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“We’re not supposed to take our armor off –” Wooley started nervously, before Trapper thumped the canteen against his chestplate.

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“Drink,” Trapper ordered. And Wooley removed his helmet to drink.

​

Sister removed her bucket too, shaking out her thick dark hair. The elastic holding her hair in place had broken an hour ago, and had been falling into her eyes.

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As she fished around in her utility belt for a replacement, Trapper grinned. “It’s grown out a lot, eh? Looks good.”

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“Grew fast at first,” she answered as she wound her hair around into a knot to fit under her helmet, “but it’s slowed down now. Hasn’t gone past my shoulders yet.” She fastened the elastic just as Wooley handed off the canteen. She took it gladly; she hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. As she lowered the container, she spied an odd expression on Longshot’s face. “What?”

​

He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing. Just – I was looking at a holo I have of us on Kamino. Your face is a lot softer – rounder, maybe – than it was then.”

​

“The rest of my weight’s redistributed too. I thought the saying about food going straight to the hips was an expression, but apparently not.” Sister toasted him with the canteen. “Hormones work wonders.”

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Longshot took the canteen back from her, but before he pulled away, he clapped her on the shoulder and inclined his head. “I’m happy for you, Sister. We all are.”

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Sister beamed and pressed her forehead against his. “Thank you, vod.”

​

They stood a moment more before Sister gave him a slightly-less-gentle headbutt. “I guess we’ve loitered long enough.” She donned her helmet, and the others followed suit. As they resumed their joint patrols, she said, “So, Wooley and I were talking about where we’d like to retire. He says Ryloth, I say Christophsis. What about you two?”

​

“Naboo,” Longshot answered immediately.

​

“You’ve been?”

​

He raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “No. But you’ve seen the holos. It’s beautiful, peaceful. I think it would be nice to learn about art… or whatever else they teach there.”

​

“I suppose our education of the arts is severely lacking.”

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“I could get used to life on Coruscant,” Trapper mused, trodding through a tangle of scrubgrass. “Plenty of nightlife, drinks, opportunities – never a dull moment.”

​

“This is your retirement, Trapper,” Wooley reminded him. “We’re talking about when we’re old and not good for fighting.”

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Trapper shrugged. “Fighting’s what we’re for. I’m never not going to be good at it.”

Sister checked behind them for any movement. “Now I’m imagining Ninety-Nine in a fistfight in some seedy cantina with neon lights.”

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“I’ll be lucky if I’m in Ninety-Nine’s shape by the time this war’s over.”

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Sister laughed as she pushed aside a short tendrilled plant –

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And almost walked right into a probe droid.

​

Sister reeled back as the droid let out a high mechanical whine of surprise, its numerous dangling limbs convulsing instinctively. Its black-domed head spun on its axis, bulbous lenses flashing as it swiveled to each of the clones.

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“Blast it!” Trapper shouted.

​

Sister didn’t need to be told twice; adrenaline surged through her veins. She felt a smug satisfaction that the stress of patrol wasn’t unwarranted this time. She sprinted to the right as Wooley lunged left, Trapper charging forward as Longshot backed up to get a better aim.

​

But the droid recovered as quickly as the clones. It spun into the air, red blaster bolts screaming down around them. Sister dove behind a boulder for cover, rock fragments splintering around her, and spotted Longshot taking a defensive position in a shallow crevasse, Wooley darting through a thick grove of the red plants.

​

Trapper didn’t look for cover; he raced straight towards the droid, trying to draw its fire.

​

It worked.

​

The droid’s lens narrowed in on Trapper, its extra blaster ports recalibrating –

​

Sister raised her blaster rifle and fired. The antenna comm system jutting from the dome exploded, Wooley’s shot disabled the main blaster with a spark and a flash of blue, and Longshot’s careful aim left the droid short-circuiting, broken shards where its main photo receptor had been.

​

The probe droid sputtered in the air a moment more, then tumbled to the ground with the groan of electronics and the crash of metal.

​

Trapper didn’t take any chances. He put one, two, three more bolts through the droid’s chassis in quick succession.

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The silence was almost as deafening as the sudden blasterfire. Sister pivoted, narrowing her scanners, sweeping the area for any more droids. There were none.

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“A scout?” Longshot growled as they gathered around the husk of metal.

​

Wooley was already tapping into the comms. “Patrol Osk to Base, come in, Base.”

​

Squatting down, Sister knocked more of the chassis apart, peering into the sparking wires and metal bits. The comms crackled a moment more before Commander Cody’s voice sounded in their helmets. “Base here. Status report.”

​

“We just ran across a Separatist probe droid,” Wooley said above her. “It’s destroyed now, but we don’t know where it came from.”

​

“Did it transmit a signal?”

​

They all exchanged a look. “No way to tell, sir.”

​

There was a pause, then the Commander switched to full-range comms. “I want all patrols back to Base immediately. All forces are to pull back while we evaluate a new situation.”

​

“Yes, sir,” all four of them said at once.

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Her brothers made as if to start moving, but Sister didn’t stand; she plunged her hands into the depths of the droid, doing her best to avoid the still-live wiring.

​

Longshot looked down at her. “What are you doing?”

​

“Getting its brain,” she replied as her gloved fingers found their target. She gave a sharp twist, and the processor fell into her hands. She withdrew it, holding the rectangular object up. “Might have something useful on it.”

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Trapper nodded. “Good thinking, Sister. C’mon. Let’s get moving.”

​

They set out at a brisk pace, keeping alert as they moved through the strange red forest.

​

Sister wasn’t worried; not when she had her brothers with her. Whatever happened, they’d face it together.

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