Private Unlucky Reassignment - Part 2

[CT-312]

(All art on this bio/thread is made by me. The rights belong to myself. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)
//: Jacen Breska 'TK-710' //:
//: WOOSTRI //:
//: Attire //:
//: Unlucky Reassignment Part 1 //:

TK-710 called out to CT-312, nodding back at him. They entered the turbo lift, as TK-710 activated the lift a sound could be heard. Soft music played. ‘Elevator music?’, Both TK-710 and CT-312 just looked at each other. She let out a cough.

“Probably a few guys up here,”

Rotating her left shoulder and inspecting her weapon, noticing the ammo count was low. “Ammo Check.”, she stated. CT-312 checked her pouches for remaining power cells. Noticing she only had a few ammo packs left. “I’m running low. Conserving ammo”. As they still waited for the lift to reach their desired floor. CT-312 thought back of their previous interaction.

–

“What’s up?” He followed their faceplate up to the ship. “Jealous your ship isn’t as big as that one?” He chuckled, smacking CT-312 on the back, “C’mon. Let’s get this done and go home.”

“...Something like that…” She answered flatly. ‘Home.’ her thoughts lingered. Raising an eyebrow at the idea of considering the Sith Empire “home”. Could she actually call the Empire home though? CT-312 wondered. Once considered Bestal Three her home, but look how that turned out. Could she really trust the Empire? Something she really didn’t know anything about. She scoffed at the idea. “Right…’home’.” she agreed out loud. Rolling her eyes . CT-312 just got here and they’re already trying to get rid of her with this mission. Her first impression of this new ‘home’ was a joke. ‘Home is an illusion. A lie.’

–
DING

A Joke. The idea of ‘Home’ was a joke. Angered at the thought. As much as CT-312 wanted to believe in the idea, she knew that ‘home’ would never apply to her. There was no place for her. Gritting her teeth.

“Now!”

She dropped her DLT-19 on the ground. Getting low, CT-312 rushed out of the lift as TK-710 laid cover fire. Red and blue bolts flying in the air, narrowly missing her. She immediately spotted the two Rebels shooting. They were about 10 feet away. A blue bolt blaster connected to her right thigh as she made it halfway. “UNGFH”, clenching her teeth. She stumbled. Reaching in her pack and grabbing a stimpack. CT-312 stabbed herself at the side of her injured thigh. The pain in her shoulder and leg immediately numbed, a burst of adrenaline coursed through her. Focused. Extending her left hand to the ground to catch herself. She propelled herself forward to close the gap. As she neared she brought up her right hand up in a fist, winding it all the way back. “Son of a - ”. Lunging at the left Rebel who happened to pop his head out. Throwing all the weight and momentum forward into the fist she threw out.

CRACK

Fist connected to face with a sickening sound. The body collapsed and groaned. The Rebel across threw a punch at CT-312’s direction. Narrowly side stepping and grabbing the incoming arm. Pulling it past her. The Rebel stumbled behind her towards TK-710. Turning around CT-312 ran towards the Rebel trying to catch himself. Boot kicking the Rebel from behind into the lift with TK-710.

Groans could be heard. The Rebel from before, brought her attention back. As CT-312 walked back towards the fallen Rebel. He was trying to reload his weapon as quickly as possible. As the weapon raised, taking aim at her. CT-312 pulled the vibroblade knife from the back of her belt and sliced the front part of the assault rifle off. The rebel panicked. Without hesitation she then directed the knife into the Rebel’s chest. Plunging it deep. His hands grasping at hers, but fell to the sides as the body dropped lifelessly on the floor. She could hear TK-710 and the remaining Rebel in the elevator still.

“TK-710” She yelled out loudly. “CATCH” , CT-312 turned around and threw the vibroblade knife into the elevator. Impaling the Rebel in the upper back with the knife. As she was walking towards the lift, the anger that stirred within settled. The low dosage of bacta was taking effect. Her left shoulder wasn't throbbing anymore. But her right thigh was hurting. It was slowly healing. CT-312 looked down at it. Seeing the fresh blood from the gaping wound. New skin was slowly forming, slowing the bleeding down. Reaching front and back of her, CT-312 undid one of her belt straps meant for strapping into speeders. Wrapping it around her thigh, putting pressure on the slowly healing wound. She winced. Suddenly the remaining lights in the facility flickered on. ‘Looks like the full power is back up’ . Reaching the lift, she bent down, picking up the dropped DLT-19. Silently, extending out her hand, palm up and open. Indicating that she wanted her knife back.

 

[Jacen Breska 'TK-710']

JACEN BRESKA
CT-312

(All art on this bio/thread is made by river23. The rights belong to them. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)​

// Woostri :: Communication Tower\\

​

Not how Jacen expected this fight to go.

Almost immediately, the second rebel was kicked toward him, stumbling backward into his waiting rifle just narrowly avoiding the muzzle. With a silent curse Jacen swung his rifle over the rebels neck and put pressure down on his throat, trying to choke him. The rebel acted quickly, throwing his weight backward and slamming Jacen into the back of the turbolift, stunning him. The rebel seized Jacen’s arm, tossing him over his shoulder before dropping on top of him. Suddenly, Jacen's visor was full of the sight of a gloved hand and nothing else. Lifting Jacen's head, the rebel then pushed it down, slamming his head down with a loud CRACK! The impact of metal against the floor sent another wave of dizziness through Jacen, but before he could recover, the rebel tore the helmet off completely, and the two stared at eachother in momentary silence.

Jacen looked up at him, his initial stunned expression quickly giving way to one of anger and desperation. He grit his teeth and started punching up into the rebels face as his adversary tried to choke Jacen. Desperate to turn the tide of the fight, Jacen drove his fist into the rebel's kidney, aiming to break free from beneath him. A heavy THUD echoed as his strike landed against the soldier's plated side, forcing a sharp gasp from his opponent. Their struggle sent ripples through the confined space of the turbolift, shifting their positions until the rebel's back was aligned with the opening.

“TK-710” She yelled out loudly. “CATCH”

The knife sank into the rebel's back, ripping a guttural scream from his throat. Seizing the opening, Jacen reached around, yanked the blade free, and with a sharp grunt drove it deep into the man's side. A second thrust followed, swift and merciless. The rebel shuddered, then collapsed, his weight crashing down onto Jacen.

With a heavy breath, Jacen pulled the knife free and shoved the body off of him. He lay back on the floor, trying to calm himself and recuperate, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he saw the waiting palm of 312. His gaze drifted up to meet their faceplate. He furrowed his brow, exhaling in resignation, and let his head fall back onto the turbolift floor. Slowly, he rose to his feet, placed the knife into 312’s outstretched hand, then bent down to retrieve his helmet and rifle.

"Oh, I'm fine, by the way," he muttered as he stood, nodding exaggeratedly while staring into 312's blank faceplate. "Not that you asked. But I know you care." He added with a dry edge, brushing past the trooper as he strode forward into the control room, stepping out of the turbolift as the lights flickered back on and the consoles began to hum to life up, lighting up the space in a sea of dull blue and white. Jacen dropped into a seat at a terminal, pulling the SSD from his belt and slotting it into the data port. The terminal beeped to life, highlighting possible target destinations—none of which matched the coordinates for the Mors Mon. He let out a thoughtful hmm, fingers tapping against the console as he keyed in new data. Above, the dish began to shift, and a robotic voice echoed through the room,
'Readjusting... Readjusting...'
After a few moments, the loud whirring of the massive communication dish came to an end, and a holographic image of the Mors Mon flickered to life above the console. Jacen pressed a few more buttons, and the voice spoke once again.
'Beginning Data transfer. Please standby…'
Jacen nodded, watching the progress bar slowly fill. Once he was satisfied the transfer was underway, he configured the radar to treat all Sith forces as friendly and mark all others as hostile, designating the troopers' signatures as friendly. Satisfied, he leaned back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“This mission needs to just end…” he muttered with a heavy sigh.
Suddenly, the console began beeping, highlighting a new area. Jacen sat up, scanning the information that appeared:
‘Enemy forces incoming. At the current pace, they will reach this facility in ten minutes.’
"Oh, damn," Jacen muttered, his eyes going wide as he glanced at the transfer progress bar.

"Move faster, please. Please move faster," he urged, fingers drumming anxiously against the console as if that might somehow speed it up.

50%…
65%…
70%…
71%…
His stomach twisted as the progress began to crawl. His pulse pounded in his ears.
"Come on!" he snapped, slamming his fist against the desk. The terminal rattled under the impact, but the sluggish bar remained indifferent to his desperation. His jaw clenched as seconds stretched unbearably long.
95%…
97%…
99%…
A single moment of unbearable stillness...then, at last-
100%!
A sharp beep-beep-beep echoed from the console.
Transfer complete.
Jacen exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders loosening ever so slightly and he jumped from his seat, clapping his hands in everlasting victory. “WOOO!” He hollered out, a grin spreading across his face. “Alright!” Grabbing his helmet and rifle, he quickly donned the helmet. “Let’s get out of here. Screw this planet. This place sucks.”
As Jacen turned toward the turbolift, he glanced back at the console one last time, reassuring himself that the transfer was complete. He gave a brief nod to 312 before stepping into the turbolift, his gaze falling on the rebel's lifeless body on the floor. Without hesitation, he approached the corpse, grabbed the soldier's foot, and dragged it out of the turbolift.

“Alright. Alright now let’s get outta here.”

 

[CT-312]

(All art on this bio/thread is made by me. The rights belong to myself. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)
//: Jacen Breska 'TK-710' //:
//: WOOSTRI //:
//: Attire //:
//: Unlucky Reassignment Part 1 //:

Once the knife was back in CT-312’s hand, she placed it back on her belt. Pleased. The knife was really growing on her.

"Oh, I'm fine, by the way," he muttered as he stood, nodding exaggeratedly while staring into 312's blank faceplate. "Not that you asked. But I know you care."

As TK-710 brushed by her, she rolled her eyes. “You caught the knife spectacularly, Good job.”, she said out loud enough for him to hear as he headed to the consoles. CT-312 could faintly hear a robotic voice from the room. With TK-710 focusing on the terminal, she used this time to rummage through the rebels' bodies. Starting with the lift, she was patting the body down. Hoping to find anything, but all it had was just a half eaten meal bar in the pockets, a tin can of breath mints, and a photo of a loved one? It seemed more like a magazine cut-out if anything. Sighing, CT-312 was hoping for something a little bit more useful. She grabbed the breath mints. She smirked.

As she got up, putting pressure on her right leg, she winced once again. Looking back down at her leg she saw her makeshift bandaged belt strap, stained with fresh blood. CT-312 sighed once more. Taking a sharp inhale, she braced herself as she slowly walked towards the other disposed Rebel body. Patting it down, she was in luck. Huge luck. CT-312 found another stimpack as well as some thermal detonators. The rest were some expired meal rations and radio. Grabbing the thermal detonators, she placed them with the others she had. Setting herself down, she sat next to the body. Back and helmet pressed against the wall. Not wanting to use the two remaining stimpack she had, she leaned over. Grabbing the stimpack off the body. Without second thought, stabbing her leg again. Closing her eyes, taking a moment of peace as the pain faded away. The wound felt as if it was healing up bit more. CT-312 opened one of her eyes, looking at the lifeless rebel. Extending her hand, patting the body on the shoulder. “Thanks” . Pulling the stimpack out of her leg, tossing it onto the chest. She resumed closing her eyes, head resting against the wall.

Bbzz….Hold…Bbzzzz…On…bbzzzz…Repea-.....Bzzz…Reinforcements….Bzzzz…way…Bzzz

‘...Of course…So much for a moment of peace…’, Opening her eyes, leaning over, CT-312 grabbed the radio. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself once more for the pain as she got up. Surprised that it didn’t hurt. Putting pressure back on her leg, the pain was non-existent. Pleased and concerned, not knowing the status of her leg under the bandaged belt strap and how long she would be pain free. CT-312 hastily made her towards TK-710 in the console room. “Heads up, we got contact coming in!” she shouted. Switching the comms to open for the rest of the Troopers to hear “Eyes up, we got rebels on the way! Troopers, Ammo Check!”.

‘Enemy forces incoming. At the current pace, they will reach this facility in ten minutes.’

“We all have ammo, but we’re running low. Enough for one or two firefights, depending how they go.”

“Frak”, CT-312 turned back around and ran towards the lift. Hitting the button and holding it, so the lift remained on their floor. She heard TK-710 from the other side.

“WOOO!” He hollered out, a grin spreading across his face. “Alright!” Grabbing his helmet and rifle, he quickly donned the helmet. “Let’s get out of here. Screw this planet. This place sucks.”

As TK-710 made it back to the lift, he gave her a nod indicating the SSD was uploaded. CT-312 nodded back. Granted, she watched with a brow raised as he dragged the rebel’s corpse by the foot out of the turbolift.

“Alright. Alright now let’s get outta here.”

As CT-312 entered the lift, she tossed the mints she pocketed to TK-710. Hitting the button for ground floor. The lift descended. Elevator music playing. She brought the radio she grabbed earlier on up to her helmet, pressing the ‘talk’ button. “This is the Communications Array Personnel, everything is fine. False alarm on our end. We are currently just doing a systems check with the equipment making sure everything is still functional. Over.”

Bzzz…Oh thank…bzzz....you guys….bzz…alright…bzzz…still going…bbzz….check...bbzz

CT-312 shook her head, dropping the radio to the ground, stomping on it. “At least they won’t be expecting us”.

As the lift opened, her and TK-710 exited out. The rest of the Troopers that split off regrouped. CT-312 noticed some of the Troopers were looking at her leg. “It’s nothing.” she stated. “You should see the other guy” , did her best to joke. She heard some chuckles.

“REBEL TROOPS SPOTTED, HEADED THIS WAY” , one of the troopers who was guarding the perimeter relayed.

Without delay, the rest of the Troopers posted up. Ready for the firefight that would ensue. Looking down in the sights of her heavy blaster rifle, CT-312 was preparing to shoot. Her concentration was interrupted by an announcement from the ISD Lady of Fortune. The familiar voice, who explained their mission and sent them, spoke.

“Excellent work Troopers! We have received word that the Mors Mon has received the SSD Data. As a reward, we’ll help you with those pesky little Rebels headed your way.”

A bright flash of light appeared, followed by a loud explosion with sand and glass flying everywhere. Craters were being formed as Rebels were scattering, screaming and yelling. Confused as to what was going on. As more projectiles were launched into the surrounding area, debris and craters were littered everywhere. Slowly the projectiles were closing in on the Communications Tower.

“Oh. Do keep in mind that this will go on for who knows how long and time is ticking to extract. Best get to it. Tick-Tock!”

The Troopers all stared at the scene unfolding in front of them in disbelief.

“G-GUYS, IS IT M-ME OR THOSE E-E-EXPLOSIONS ARE GETTING AWFULLY C-CLOSE TO US”

“We need to make a run for it.”, CT-312 grimly expressed. A timer appeared and was sent to all the HUD’s of the Troopers, flashing: ‘1:30:00’ . “Now.”

The timer countdown began. All the Troopers made a mad dash sprint through the orbital bombardment that laid siege to the land.

 

[Jacen Breska 'TK-710']

JACEN BRESKA
CT-312

(All art on this bio/thread is made by river23. The rights belong to them. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)​

// Woostri :: Communication Tower/ \\

​

As both Jacen and 312 settled in to the turbolift, he noticed them toss something lackadaisically towards him. With a slightly startled look, he caught the item and read the label,

“Breath mints? You’re giving me brea-Where did you even get these?” He raised his head, meeting 312’s faceplate, then looked out as the Turbolift doors finally closed, catching a glimpse of the dead rebels boots just as the Turbolift began to move.

Exasperatedly, he looked back at 312, “You didn’t. Taking someone’s breath-” He stopped suddenly, remembering the discussion about taking the enemies equipment. This was hardly the same. It’s breath mints. Not a knife. Or a poncho. “Why did yo-’know what? Don’t care.” He raised the container, shaking it gently, “Don’t care. Mine now. I’ll take em, thanks. Guess who’ll have good smelling breath and be kissin all the boys and girls? Me.” He lifted his sandy poncho and put the container in a pouch on his belt.
As the Turbolift descended, the elevator music started to play again,

Such good Elevator music

Jacen did his best to ignore it, deciding instead to look at 312 as they spoke on the radio they grabbed, the chuckled as they dropped crushed it underfoot.
“You’re scrappy,” he said simply, remembering the engagement, “...Thanks for the help. I didn’t need it,” he said, shrugging and leaning back against the handrail behind him, “Had it handled. Had a whole plan worked out, but…Thank you,” he nodded his head and pushed off the railing, readying his weapon as the Turbolift came to a stop at the base of the tower. As the door opened, the pair cleared the doorway and linked up with the rest of the team.

As the others reported enemy contact, Jacen forced out a sharp breath, preparing himself for the coming engagement. He hustled over to nearby stacked crates. He ducked down behind it and checked the ammo counter on the side of his rifle.

078

He felt around his pouch, feeling one additional battery pack.

“Ammo check, 78 rounds left, one to spare. I should be alri-” Just then, cutting him off, the voice of their mission control

"REBEL TROOPS SPOTTED, HEADED THIS WAY" , one of the troopers who was guarding the perimeter relayed.

Jacen looked in the direction of the approaching enemy forces as a rain of heavy artillery from their attending Star Destroyer the Lady of Fortune unleashed it’s barrage. Jacen couldn’t help but whoop and holler, cheering with a few others as the area just over the hill lit up in a brilliant red glow.

A glow that got closer, and suddenly Jacen wasn’t so cheery. The strikes were getting closer, sending huge plumes of debris and bits of woostri flying through the sky, reducing the hill in front of them into a small crater…and getting closer and closer.

"Excellent work Troopers! We have received word that the Mors Mon has received the SSD Data. As a reward, we'll help you with those pesky little Rebels headed your way."

A bright flash of light appeared, followed by a loud explosion with sand and glass flying everywhere. Craters were being formed as Rebels were scattering, screaming and yelling. Confused as to what was going on. As more projectiles were launched into the surrounding area, debris and craters were littered everywhere. Slowly the projectiles were closing in on the Communications Tower.

"Oh. Do keep in mind that this will go on for who knows how long and time is ticking to extract. Best get to it. Tick-Tock!"

Jacen turned and ran, sprinting back towards the canyon as the tremors of impact grew stronger and the squad of troopers, scrambled for space, frantically trying to create distance between them and the not-so-friendly fire. As the cone of fire converged on them, Jacen turned his head over to see just how close it was, seeing just in time as the projectiles struck the Communications tower, sending an impressive explosion into the sky of brilliant reddish-orange flame. And then, just like that, the blasts were upon them. Less concentrated in nature, it seemed more like a sick prank then an attempt to kill them. Still, as he maintained his panicked sprint, he heard the scream of a trooper getting blasted into oblivion that told him that this was as real a threat as everything else on the planet.

The team pressed on, bobbing and weaving around the blasts, trying to avoid the random points of impact as best they could, until a lucky blast hit just behind Jacen, sending him flying forward, front flipping through the air before he hit the ground hard, landing flat on his back gasping for breath.

He looked up at the sky, unable to move and silently preparing for death, when the faceplate of CT-1013 appeared as if from nowhere.

“H-hey c’mon m-man! Let’s get you up!” He outstretched a hand and Jacen took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet as he continued to try to regain the wind in his body while 1013 picked up Jacen’s rifle, slinging it over his shoulder, and brought Jacen’s own arm over as well, helping Jacen limp into the waiting canyon opening and away from the remainder of the artillery blasts.

As they entered the canyon, they continued deeper until they were sure that at the very least the walls of the canyon would protect against any additional ‘help’ from the Fortune. 1013 sat Jacen down against the wall, and the both of them looked around.

“I think… we just lost one.” Jacen said, finally regaining his air. “L-lucky?” Jacen let out a single chuckle, “Oh yeah. Lucky.”

“Now I know everyone else got that timer on their hud,” 1441 said, tapping the side of his faceplate, “But if we don’t take a moment here, no one’s gonna make it much further.” Jacen and a few of the other troopers nodded and started to relax, finding spots along the canyon walls, “Just a quick fiver. Stim up, patch up, eat up, whatever,” RK-1001 said with a nod as he remained standing and ready. Jacen, feeling his stomach begin to rumble, grabbed a small bag out from under his poncho and opened it. “Good ol’ Sith grade protein powder. Just like mom used to make,” 1441 said, removing his helmet and walking over, revealing a sandy blonde haired man with a burn mark across his left cheek and a wide smile beneath that. He knelt down next to Jacen, smacking his knee playfully, “Eat up young’un, that’ll make ya big an’ strong like me.”
Jacen laughed, removing his helmet, “Oh yeah, I’m sure,” he said, tilting the bag into his mouth, consuming the powder and trying his hardest not to cough it back up. 1441 chuckled, and pulled a water bottle from his pack. “Here. Take a drink,” he offered, and Jacen graciously accepted, taking a small swig to wash down the dry substance.

"Here," Jacen said, opening a pouch on his belt and pulling out his newly acquired breathmints. "Even trade."

1441 stared at him, "Why the hell you have these? Mission critical breath mints?" Jacen chuckled and gestured towards 312. "They gave em to me, I dunno ask 'em." he tilted the container and popped one out on 1441's waiting hand, and the trooper immediately put it in his mouth, and Jacen did the same.
Just then, as they were about to start talking about the very important breath mints, a violent coughing fit erupting next to them as 1013, red faced and teary eyed, struggled with the dry powder. Jacen and 1441 looked at him, then at eachother, and shared a hearty laugh as 1441 rose to his feet, walking over and offering the bottle after Jacen returned it. He watched for a moment, unable to remove the smile from his face as he watched the veteran trooper help out another rookie.

Not all that different from me. Thank the Emperor I turned out the way I did, Jacen thought, rolling up the pouch of Powdered Rations, feeling fuller from the little bit he had consumed, That's what a trooper should be. Not the team I was with before. Jacen smiled and tried to stand, but just as he did pain shot up through his leg. He looked down at his knee, noticing a dull pain accompanying a twitch that started to grow in intensity. Quickly, he reached around his back to grab the medical pack, removing a stim from it, and jabbed it into a slot just above the knee guard, sighing as the local anesthetic immediately dulled the pain. Jacen tossed the used stim away and stood, putting pressure on his leg. Happy with the result, he bent down to collect his helmet, throwing it back on. He looked around the canyon to see the others who weren’t as fortunate, several others were being seen to by roaming troopers, and Jacen joined them, approaching a couple and jabbing them with stims from his pack, making sure to keep them up and ready to fight.

“Alright guys we gotta go! I’m not dying here,” a voice Jacen didn’t recognize. He turned and looked, A trooper was climbing the pile of rocks that marked as the burial for the Stone Golem Jacen’s brilliant plan had reduced to rubble. “We survived all that,” he gestured back towards the western opening of the canyon, “that’s gotta have been the worst of it! Come on guys Let’s go—”

A light began shining through the rocks in the pile, and all of sudden a stone hand erupted from the rubble, gripping the trooper tightly within it’s rocky palm, and attached to it a figure much bigger then the one they had buried arose, bigger and wider by several feet.

The trooper in it’s hand screamed, his faceplate betraying no emotion behind it. It was unnecessary, the screaming told the whole story it needed to, as the monster brought the man to it’s ‘face’, then slammed it’s fist- and the trooper- down into the ground before emerging completely from the pile of rocks and stomping on the poor trooper’s remains.

The rest of the team scrambled to their feet preparing for battle, all of them shocked that RK-1001’s terrible plan didn’t work.

And as the two of them met eyes, Jacen and 1001, only a single sentence was shared.

“LOOK what you DID.”

 

[CT-312]

(All art on this bio/thread is made by me. The rights belong to myself. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)
//: Jacen Breska 'TK-710' //:
//: WOOSTRI //:
//: Attire //:
//: Unlucky Reassignment Part 1 //:

Sprinting across into the orbital bombardment. The rebels were too busy trying to escape the non-stop siege that laid waste to Woostri’s ground, ignoring the Troopers. As some of the Troopers near CT-312 were running at the edge of one of the craters, the cracked glass gave way.

CRACK

“...OOF…” , one of the Troopers fell into the crater.

It would be dumb to help with not knowing where the next strike might hit next. Getting out of the barrage was the first priority. That’s what they were sent here for. CT-312 remembered the meeting before. How they don’t expect anybody to survive this mission. Expendable. That’s what they are.

Looking back, CT-312 caught a glimpse of the Trooper that fell in. She immediately stopped. The Troopers around her ran past her looking back confused, but kept going. ‘Gods be damned, I’m getting soft’. She ran back to the crater, sliding down the sloped walls. It was the Shield Trooper that covered her during the golem encounter. He was struggling to get up the sandy slope, his momentum slowed each time he tried to reach the top. “Put your shield away! At the same time, sprint as hard as you can.” As she made it to the bottom of the crater. Looking around quickly she noticed an angle where it was partially glass and sand. “THERE.”, she ushered MB-1782. He placed his shield on his back, readying himself.

“GO!” yelled CT-312, she staggered her start. Sprinting behind him a couple seconds after. His hulking huge frame brought him up just above half way out of the crater, his movement slowing. Unexpectedly, MB-1782 felt himself propel forward. Able to gain momentum, picking up his feet and extending his arms out. He was able to grab the ledge and pull himself up.

CT-312 rammed herself behind him, pushing him forward until he reached the top. He was out of view. Exhausted at the bottom of the crater, hands on her knees trying to catch her breathe. She looked where the Shield Trooper exited. No longer in sight. ‘Left alone. As always. What else is new.’ , a pang sadness quickly washed over her. Taking a deep breath, she brushed it off. CT-312 took off, sprinting up the same area where MB-1782 got out. ‘Crap’. She wasn’t going to make it. Her leg was starting to throb again, her stamina was drained. She could almost touch the lip of the crater as she started to descend backwards.

An oversized hand shot out and grabbed her by the forearm. Effortlessly lifting her with ease. Startled. CT-312 looked up to see MB-1782, lifting her up with one hand and bringing her close to his body. Using his other hand to support her weight, he sprinted the rest of the way. Carrying her. ‘What the…?' . Confused. CT-312 was absolutely flabbergasted. Thankful, but absolutely perplexed by his actions. She reasoned to herself that it was a debt they were repaying to each other. That would explain his and her actions.

—

“You’re scrappy,” he said simply, remembering the engagement, “...Thanks for the help. I didn’t need it,” he said, shrugging and leaning back against the handrail behind him, “Had it handled. Had a whole plan worked out, but…Thank you,”

‘Scrappy?’, that’s a first. Chuckling to herself. Guess, nothing is wrong with being ‘Scrappy’. She didn’t expect to be thanked, couldn't even recall ever being thanked. It was nice.

—

As they neared the remaining panting Troopers that made it back into the canyon. MB-1782 gently lowered CT-312. “Uh, Thank you MB-1782. You didn’t have to.” Her boots sinking back into the sand, regaining her bearings. As the Shield Trooper stood back up, his right fist pounded on the left side of his upper chest. A salute. She smiled. CT-312 stood at attention facing him and mimicked the same motion back. Saluting in respect for one another.

“Now I know everyone else got that timer on their hud,” 1441 said, tapping the side of his faceplate, “But if we don’t take a moment here, no one’s gonna make it much further.”

Taking a mandatory break to recollect themselves. CT-312 watched as the Troopers were ‘inhaling’ this ‘Sith Protein Powder’. ‘There’s no way that tastes good.’, waving off with her hand. She placed herself up against the canyon’s wall, watching at a small distance from the group. CT-312 noticed TK-710 and the Jetpack Trooper, CC-1441 looking her way. Loud coughing could be heard and to no surprise it was the Shock Trooper. Probably dying from the protein powder. She wasn’t feeling too good about the canyon still. Something here still kept her on edge. Her observation was interrupted when she felt the ground next to her shift. MB-1782 sat next to her. He broke half of his protein bar and handed the other half to her. CT-312 had an eyebrow raised and grabbed the other half. Lifting her helmet just enough to show her mouth. Biting into the protein bar quickly she set her helmet back in place. “I'll say it again, You didn’t have to-” she stated.

“I wanted to.” Emitted a booming low tone.

Chuckling loud enough for him to hear, with her head still looking at the Troopers in front. CT-312 raised her right hand and gently back hand tapped on the large trooper’s arm next to her. They just sat there peacefully looking onwards.

As the group did a quick check of their gear and personal status. MB-1782 and CT-312 stood up, dusting themselves off. Her leg pain was manageable. Looking down at her right thigh, the blood was dried on the makeshift bandage straps. Patting on MB-1782’s lower back, “Guess we should join the party eh?” , as she walked over to rejoin the group. Followed by MB-1782 with a nod.

All the Trooper’s focus was taken away with a Trooper that CT-312 was unfamiliar with, standing on top of a pile of rubble.

“We survived all that,” he gestured back towards the western opening of the canyon, “that’s gotta have been the worst of it! Come on guys Let’s go—”

His words cut short. Replaced by intense screaming as a giant rock shaped hand gripped them and slamming into the ground. Pulverizing the poor Trooper’s body with its rock-like structure. “GGGgggRRRkkRRKKKKk” . Emerging from the tiny dust cloud was a 12 foot light infused rock golem. Lifting its arms up and slamming them down at any near Troopers. Yelling and scrambling was happening as the Troopers dove and ducked out of the way of the massively slow swinging arms. Red bolt blasters were shot at the monster, but it did nothing. Just scratched the surface of the rocks. CT-312 saw TK-710’s interaction with RK-1001.

“LOOK what you DID.”

"WHAT I DID?! You said it was 'YOUR' idea!" RK-1001 shot back at TK-710.

“I THOUGHT YOU GUYS HANDLED THIS.” She yelled back angrily.

Looking back at the gargantuan of a golem. She froze. It felt familiar to her thirteenth mission, she felt guilty that she was the only survivor. She should’ve died in that blast as well. This feeling compared to the heavy pressure she felt when she looked at the Mors Mon, was nothing. CT-312, took long sharp breaths. Grounding herself. Watching as the scene unfold in front of her, it was chaotic. The Troopers scrambled around, yelling, trying to figure out what to do. Red bolt blasters deflecting off of the hardened body. They were wasting ammo. Ammo they needed. She clutched the belt holding a handful of impact grenades she had around her chest. CT-312 did say earlier on this mission was a gamble. A fate left to the Gods if she were to survive and be given another chance. That’s if a clone had a soul and could be forgiven. Especially one that was made up of scraps.

“Stop shooting! Conserve your Ammo, Just run for it!”, CT-312 Hollered out loud.

The Troopers halted and started to sprint away from the behemoth of a Light Infused golem. As she was running, she dropped closely together the rest of her thermal detonators on the ground. Creating a small concentrated makeshift minefield. CT-312, took off the impact grenade belt and started to prep them live. As she stayed behind, waiting until the last Trooper to be well distanced away. Stowing her weapon on her back, CT-312 ran towards the golem with the belt of impact grenades in hand. Thoughts of her thirteenth mission playing in her head.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL YOU ARE! AND I DON’T EVEN CARE! COME HERE YOU DUMB BANTHA TURD”

“ggGGRRkKKKk”, A large rock fist swung at her. She brought up her left forearm to shield her upper frame, it felt like a Speeder Truck ran her over. CT-312 could’ve sworn she could hear multiple bones cracking as she was flung back towards the directions of the fleeing Troopers.

THUD

Her body slid on the ground leaving a trail in the sand, the Golem slowly advancing towards her.

Hurt. It hurts to breathe. Sharp pain with every inhale and exhale. She couldn't feel her left arm. Her breath was shallow. Head ringing, half conscious. Everything was blurry. Blinking at the oncoming giant towards her. Copper. She could taste metal in her mouth. Liquid rising up from her throat. “GGkkkkrrkKk” , the Golem lifted both its arms up again as it continued forward towards her. The impact grenade belt that was once in CT-312’s right hand was on the golem’s hand that swatted her away. She smirked. "Idiot" raspy gurgling as she spoke. The grenades went off next to the golems face with its arms raised. Staggering the monster. Tilting her head up, getting a better vision of the Golem. CT-312 reached into one of her pouches with her right hand and pulled out a detonator. “Die you son of a Karabast”, pressing the button.

BOOM BOOM BOOM

Multiple flashes of light and shock waves were sent throughout the canyon. Followed by a final engulfing bright light that burst into the atmosphere. A giant crater was formed, the anomaly sized rock golem became a pebble. Sand and glass, washed over CT-312’s body. Burying her under the sand.

 

[Jacen Breska 'TK-710']

JACEN BRESKA
CT-312

(All art on this bio/thread is made by river23. The rights belong to them. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)​

// Woostri :: Canyon of Sand and Glass \\

​

"WHAT I DID?! You said it was 'YOUR' idea!" RK-1001 shot back at TK-710.

“I THOUGHT YOU GUYS HANDLED THIS.” She yelled back angrily.

Jacen pointed a finger at 1001, deflecting the blame, then donned his helmet, joining the rest of the team in uselessly wasting ammo before 312 pointed out it was doing nothing.

As they spoke, telling everyone to make a run for it, Jacen recognized the telltale sign of someone who had a plan, “Alright, alright, everyone you heard the Trooper! Run! Get around it! 312 has it handled just go!” He waved them forward, turning to look at 312 as they charged, alone, at the creature. Thoughts of joining them filled his mind but something stayed his feet, or forced him in the other direction.

“You got it,” he said finally with a single nod as he backed away and turned to join the others as they moved eastward.
The only one, he thought, who truly understood their purpose here. And as they engaged the stone golem it helped Jacen understand it. He recalled something he heard before, something the mysterious shadowed man said on the Fortune. They were all effectively dead already. Their lives were over, and 312 understood that…or seemed to. It was all a relay race. 312 would handle this, trusting Jacen and the others would handle what came next. If they died, it was in service to the mission, to fufill the purpose of the team. Lives spent, not wasted, to accomplish their objective.

If Jacen stayed and tried to help…perhaps they’d beat it, but perhaps they’d both die. 312 didn’t want to take that risk, the situation didn’t call for it. Or…perhaps 312 just believed only they could accomplish this. Either way.

Jacen understood, finally. He’d already spent lives here. Four to take the bunker. Not lives wasted, lives invested.

He wouldn’t take that from 312, so he kept running.

He and the others had made it several hundred feet away when–

BOOM.

Jacen turned back at the sound of a cluster of grenades going off and saw the explosion crest past the top of the canyon as they cleared the other side.

“Ah…” was all he could say as he caught his breath.

He keyed his comm, “312, do you read me?” He asked, then repeated. Then repeated again to no response. The line was dead…that told him what he needed to know.

That was it then, he thought. Must have been. He chuckled, looking back into the canyon, seeing the crater that formed. It must have been quite the sight to see. Jacen felt a twinge of sadness in his heart, of loss. But he nodded, exhaled as he caught his breath, and looked at the other troopers who turned to see the fireworks as well.

No time for sentimentality.

“Time’s ticking, Troopers,” he said with a steady voice. A few troopers nodded, some only stared silently into the canyon.

“No gawking, seem’s 312s number was up. Oursisn’t, not yet, so let’s get it moving,” he made a forward wave with his hand, as if driving them forward, “Plenty of opportunities to join them if you’re so beat up about it, but I’d think they’d be pissed you wasted their moment. Let's get a move on.”

The team turned and started to move onward. Jacen, however, turned back around one last time.

“Sorry,” he said, matter of factly.

My mistake, he thought, if we killed it the first time.

He shook his head, he couldn’t have known it wouldn’t have worked. It made good sense. Whatever that glow was, that Force Light, had to have had something to do with why crushing it didn’t work.

This was the situation, that happened, this was the price.

A life spent, not wasted.

“...Sorry,” he repeated, turning and continuing forward.

The smoking ruin that was once the data vault grew ever closer on the horizon, and as they approached, the team dropped down to the ground, approaching behind a hill. Jacen, still wearing the poncho 312 had taken from a corpse and given to him, threw the hood on over his head and crested the hill.

“Zoom on these helmet’s is shit,” he said quietly to himself, unsatisfied with the 2xmag the helmet offered. He turned his head and looked back to the huddled troopers asking, “Anyone have any macrobinoculars?”
A trooper nodded, shifting his weight to the side so he could grab a pair of binoculars, and tossed it to Jacen. Satisfied, he turned back and brought the magnifiers up to his eyes.

“Whatcha see?” A voice just behind him, he turned and saw 1441, huddled close to the ground and looking at him expectantly, “I just started looking, you couldn’t wait?”

“No I couldn’t wait, ass,” he tapped the side of his helmet, “Meter’s runnin’.”

“All this time talking to you is less time I’m looking through the damn things,” Jacen annoyingly responded, and 1441 sighed, “Then look! And be quick about it!”

Jacen shook his head and looked through again, and almost immediately 1441 spoke up again,

“Well?” he asked, impatiently.

“A minute, please, I beg you," Jacen responded exasperatedly, laying his head face down in the dune.

“You’re telling me you need a minute to just start tellin’ me what’s there?" 1441 teased, slapping Jacen's foot.

“There’s guys there, alright? Rebels.”

“Well how many?”

“THAT’S what’s taking me a minute.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Jacen put the binoculars down and looked at 1441, saying nothing.

“...right. I’ll go uh, kark myself I guess,” 1441 said, slowly shuffling backwards and joining the rest of the team

Jacen turned back around, picking up the binoculars.

312 really made a mess of this place, he thought, observing the destruction. The entire front section was rubble, further back and in seemed less affected, but the facility was essentially scrapped.
Out front, a rebel response team of 15 were assessing the damage and setting up security.

Once he felt happy with the knowledge, Jacen slowly slid back down the small dune.

“Alright, we have around fifteen setting up shop at the vault,” he looked around, trying to get a head count of his troopers, “How many we got?” he asked, “Round about ehhh 13,” 1441 responded after looking around himself.

Jacen nodded and readjusted his helmet on his head,, “Well…We can’t just go around. Who knows what’s ahead of us, we leave these guys here and we get into trouble later they’ll just come up behind us and wipe us out,” he tilted his head and shrugged, “Sssooo. We gotta take them out now. And deal with everything as it comes, not after. No cover from this hill to the bunker. That means no real cover for them either, besides some debris.” he raised his head, looking at the team, “We got any snipers?” A hand went up, the trooper attached to it said nothing. “Alright,” Jacen nodded, “Here’s the deal. The turret team,” he gestured to the two carrying the blaster turret pieces, “and the Sniper,” he pointed to the quiet trooper, “will set up right here at the dune. Rest of us will charge ahead BUT only when the shooting starts. Turret’ll scatter them, Sniper will pick off anyone who tries to get a shot off on us. We’ll get to the bunker first and worry about engaging from there, copy?”

The team all murmured their acknowledgement, “Alright. Get set up then, we go on your signal,” he said, nodding at the trio of troopers as the rest all nodded. As the sniper and the turret pair got in position, the rest of the troopers rose to a kneeling position, all bracing themselves against the slope of the dune.

“Stop for nothing, troopers,” Jacen said over comms to a series of ‘copy’s’. The plan, such as it was, was set. And the opening roar of the blaster turret, sending a constant stream of the Alliances own blue blaster bolts back at them, sent the rag tag collection of troopers scurrying over the hill. At the same time single, solitary psheeew sounds, occasionally rang out as the troopers screamed out a war cry, charging across the glittering field of sand and glass.

In the distance, the rebels scrambled for cover. Several of them collapsed almost immediately, cut down by the turret in it’s opening barrage, and all of them sprinted for cover either down behind bits of rubble, around the far side of the bunker. As Jacen and the team approached, they saw a few enemy soldiers raise their head and try to bring their weapons to bear, some getting shots off at the scattered troopers. Jacen saw as a trooper to his right was hit, his armor smoking as he crumpled down to the ground. He forced himself to ignore and push on.

Life spent, not wasted, he thought to himself.

For every enemy soldier that raised their head, daring to face the onslaught of turret fire, and get a shot off, there was another that drew the attention of the Trooper’s sniper. Any soldier lucky enough to get a first shot off did not get a second, as red blaster bolts screamed overhead to find their mark.

At the end of their sprint, Jacen dropped down to the ground and slid behind a piece of debris, putting his weapon over top and opening fire, engaging with the troopers on even ground. In between shots, he looked around, seeing all the rest of the troopers engage with the enemy. Off to his left, he saw a trooper peak around the corner of the building and get blasted by a streak of blue, blowing him back around the corner. Jacen ducked his head back down and looked over at 1441, meeting his gaze. “Up top, flush them out!” He yelled, and 1441 nodded. He looked over the top of the bunker, engaging his jump pack he shot up on top of the ruined structure, preparing his rocket launcher.

Covered by the smoke billowing from the front of the vault, 1441 leaned over the side and fired a blast of blue plasma down into the rebel troops taking cover behind the rubble. The shock and awe of the attack rocked the cover the soldiers clung to, sending them scurrying out into the open, and immediately into the waiting crosshairs of the squad.

A few more pulls of the trigger, and the remaining enemy soldiers fell, leaving only the whimpers of the wounded and the smoke of cooling weapons. The trio of troopers rejoined the squad and the Troopers enjoyed a moment of rest as they stimmed up again, desperate to push past the pain and advance to the next objective.

Jacen looked back at the field, looking at the fallen trooper there, and then the one behind the corner of the building.

Lives spent, not wasted.

“Come on, let’s keep going," Jacen said, glancing into the corner of his HUD

0:34:35

 

[CT-312]

(All art on this bio/thread is made by me. The rights belong to myself. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)
//: Jacen Breska 'TK-710' //:
//: WOOSTRI //:
//: Attire //:
//: Unlucky Reassignment Part 1 //:

…bbZzztt….

Pitch black. Surrounded by darkness, slowly engulfing all around her. Cold. The chill slowly embraced her. Edges of reality blurred.

…Bbbzzztttt……

‘Huh. Cold?’. Slipping in and out of consciousness. ‘What is that sound?’ . CT-312’s eyes were shut. Her brain was trying to make sense of what was going on. ‘Oh yeah, Mission…Woostri…’ Last memory of what transpired during the middle of the afternoon. ‘Thing. That Force Infused Golem thing.’

…BbbzzTTtt... Me?...Bbbzzttt…

That sound again. It was cutting in and out though. Heck if she knew at this point. Trying to form straight thoughts. ‘..Dead?...Am I dead?...’, CT-312 breaths were shallow. Every time she used her lungs, pain resonated throughout. Her whole body screamed. ‘Not dead.’ It hurts too much to be dead.

bBBbZZttttt…312…BBzzttt…You… bzZztt….

Something was calling her. ‘312’ Her right hand fingers twitched. Head throbbing as she was slowly being pulled out of her subconscious state.

…bbBzzZtTt….312…. BZzztttt

“312, do you read me?” He asked, then repeated. Then repeated again to no response. The line was dead

‘That’s me.’ , her whole body felt heavy. Her left arm couldn't move or feel. CT-312’s chest was on fire. Sharp knives felt piercing every time she tried to breathe. Head throbbing and the liquid in her mouth. Iron. ‘Dying?’. Slowly shifting her right hand through underneath the sand to one of her belts. Muscle memory of where she kept her stimpacks. Gripping a stim in her hand, CT-312 pressed it against her lower right side abdomen. Between the armor coverings. A thick gauge needle shot out. Piercing through the thick fabric and light armor of the area. Seconds felt like hours. Minutes became eons. It felt like eternity. Her life slowly flashes in her mind.

“312. Blow this son of a Karabast and this Farkled outpost sky high! That’s an order.”

“Die you son of a Karabast”

Eyes shot open. CT-312's right hand shot out of the sand.

hh–
Hh—
Hh—-Haaa!

Short jagged bursts of breaths filled her lungs. As she continued gasping to breathe air into her lungs. The breaths became extended, becoming long deep powerful inhales. Heavy-lidded eyes half open, staring at the flashing countdown timer on her HUD. [ 00:48:23 ] ‘Shit. 42 minutes passed.’

The immense pain she felt. Her fatigue. Slowly fading. Temporarily. ‘MOVE’ Echoed in her mind. Her hand gripped the sand, legs spread out pushing into the ground. Slowly crawling out of the lightly buried sand and glass that covered her. CT-312 flipped herself over onto her stomach, her left arm flopped. Scrunching herself, to her knees. She moved her right foot further, kneeling. Breathing became rugged. Placing her right hand on top of the knee, doing a final push to stand. CT-312 was staggering with shoulders hunched forward. Head tilted back. Visor looking at the vast deep blue sky. The sky never looked so beautiful. Inhaling deeply. She was up.

‘Alive. I’m alive.’

Lifting her helmet just enough to have her mouth exposed. CT-312 tilted their head down and spat out red liquid that pooled in her mouth. Spitting out a couple more times, trying to rid herself of the iron copper taste. Setting the helmet back on. Her head dropped towards the crater. Slowly turning her body, facing. CT-312 threw out her right hand in front of her. Silently giving a one finger salute. The middle finger.

The constant flashing on her HUD reeled her back in. [ 00:45:13 ]. Trying to use her helmet comms, there was only static. CT-312 spoke into it hoping someone could hear her. No response. Irritation was rising. ‘Just perfect.’ Her helmet comms must have become damaged during the knockback or explosion. She tried again using the comms.

“Damn it!”, Cursing out loud to herself. She had no time to waste. Who knows how far the other Troopers were. Using her functioning hand, she took out the paper map she grabbed earlier on. Remembering where she was and where the extraction zone was. ‘I’m not going to make it.’. Not in her physical condition. CT-312 knew she didn’t have enough stims to sprint the distance non-stop. Let alone, in no condition to even push herself like that. “COMON”. Staring at the map as if the solution would pop out at her. CT-312 just killed the karking Force Light thing. Like hell she’s going to let herself die from being stranded. Continuously staring at the map, her eyes could only focus on one location. It was a risk. The only option. Folding the map to the best of her ability with one hand. She tucked it back into one of her pouches.

CT-312 started to run only to suddenly stop. Her left arm flapping in the wind like a limp noodle. Hitting her front and back. Temper was rising. This was something she didn’t need to deal with right now, especially with time being of the essence. Using her right hand, she undid the other belt strap meant for strapping into speeders. Wrapping it around her left arm and putting it over her upper abdomen. Securing it to her body. A makeshift sling, strapped. ‘That should do it.’ CT-312 went back to running. Her destination, the Rebel patrol outpost that they encountered earlier on, was her best bet. A message was cutting in and out of the comms.

Bzzttt….-oopers…Btzzztzz… easy..Bbbztttz…. Prac-..bzzttt….skills

No idea what to make of it. CT-312 ignored it and could only hope to make it to extraction on time.

—

“Troopers. I feel like we made things a little…Too easy. It’s a perfect time to practice some survival skills.”

The data pad maps and any navigational tools suddenly shut off.

“Be sure to not miss your flight!”

–

Luckily her zoom on the helmet still worked. The patrol outpost in view, about half a distance away. Pain and the injuries CT-312 obtained started to overwhelm her once more. Slowing her pace. Taking a deep breathe, reaching for the last stim and injected herself. The small amount of Bacta would start healing her wounds to somewhat of a less critical state. CT-312 felt her body less on fire, numbing the pain and given another burst of adrenaline again. Picking up her pace this time. Sprinting.

[00: 35 :48 ]

​

 

[Jacen Breska 'TK-710']

JACEN BRESKA
CT-312

(All art on this bio/thread is made by river23. The rights belong to them. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)​

// Woostri :: South-East of Data Vault \\

​

“Troopers. I feel like we made things a little…Too easy. It’s a perfect time to practice some survival skills.”

The data pad maps and any navigational tools suddenly shut off.

“Be sure to not miss your flight!”

It wasn’t often on the battlefield you heard the exact words you didn’t know you didn’t want to hear. The fact the entire mission appeared to be some type of game to someone? And that it was too easy?? Easy compared to what?!
Exasperation, bewilderment, and general discontent flowed from Jacen like a waterfall.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Alright, double time!” 1441 gestured, tapping a trooper on the shoulder in solidarity as he broke into a light sprint. “Do you know where you’re going?” Jacen asked, trying to keep pace. “Uh, yeah, roughly. Keep this headin’. Couple’a miles we’ll hit a bit of a choke point, from there, South, then we’re home free!” 1441 excitedly answered in between breaths. Jacen nodded, it was about as good a plan as any he’d heard. None of them felt inclined to remove the paper map they all were given.


The rest of the troopers followed suit, trying their best to push yet pace themselves. It was a marathon, not a sprint, after-all. All of them braced themselves for the trek ahead, settling into formation as they ran across the wasteland that was the planet Woostri.

______________________________________
22:03
Location: I18

Sweat was pouring down Jacen’s face now, and burned when it got in his eyes, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. They’d been sprinting consistently for about thirteen minutes, never braking or slowing. His joints ached, his heart was pounding loudly in his ears. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to keel over and get a rest, but he forced himself to push on.

The crash of waves against the jagged cliffs of Woostri were beginning to come into audible range, fighting to overpower the sound of his own heartbeat and breathing in his ears and finally, 1441 called for the team to halt. Almost immediately, Jacen bent over, putting his hand on his knees, struggling to get wind in his lungs,

“Y-y’know…if you…put y-your…hands…o-on y-your-” CT-1013 was beginning to say in between breaths, his fingers interlocked behind his head.

“Don’t you dare,” Jacen forced out in one breath, glaring as much as he could underneath his helmet at the trooper then looked back down, taking one deep breath and righting himself, A few meters away were the cliffs, and curiosity compelled Jacen to go look over the edge, see what water on a sand and glass world looked like.

Surprising no one, he thought, it looked suspiciously like water.

“I wouldn’t drink it,” 1001 said, joining Jacen and seemingly reading his mind as they looked down at the water.

“Oh no?” Jacen said, looking over. RK-1001 shook his head, “I’d bet you my paycheck it’s toxic,” he finished.

“Yeah you’re probably ri-” Cutting off his words, a spray of blue blaster fire burned the air around them, coming from somewhere south of them. A lucky shot blasted RK-1001 in his shoulder blade, pushing him down to the ground and rolling over the edge of the cliff. Jacen ducked down, instinct taking over, and reached down over the edge, grabbing 1001 by his other arm, straining to pull him up.

“AMBUSH! AMBUSH!” 1441 was screaming somewhere behind him, rallying the rest of the troopers to engage something Jacen hadn’t seen, still hadn’t seen. All of his attention was focused on this in front of him.

Pull him up, don’t let him fall, he repeated to himself, sounds of exertion being the only communication between the two as he continued to pull. His muscles burned and his arms began to shake, screaming at him to let go.

“No!” he yelled out, and 1001 knew it too. They met faceplates and exchanged silent glances.

“I-I got you!” CT-1013 crawled over, reaching his hand down, “I-I know it hurts, b-but give me your other hand!” He reached, strained, trying to grasp onto 1001’s injured arm. RK-1001, with great effort and physical pain, shakily forced his arm to raise, screaming in agony the entire time, but he made contact with 1013. Together, Jacen and 1013 pulled their comrade up, back over the cliff edge, and all three of them scrambled away. CT-1013 looked at Jacen and nodded, a nod Jacen returned, and went back to the fight at hand. Jacen, however, immediately reached back into his pack, grabbing a bactastim and jabbing it in between the shoulder plates of 1001’s armor. “Stay down,” he said to the trooper, “You’re out of this fight, save yourself for the next one.”

Reluctantly, 1001 nodded, grabbing and soothing his arm as Jacen turned around, crawling prone to the nearest trooper as blue blaster bolts flew overhead.

“What is it?!”

“Some damn Alliance ambush site. Real well hidden. Damn guerilla fighting…cowards!” the trooper spat, standing up and roaring in defiance at the tactics of the rebels, only to immediately be blasted. His body crumpled down in a smouldering heap. “Damn!” Jacen exclaimed in shock, hiding behind the body.

What the hell are we going to do now?

19:36

 

[CT-312]

(All art on this bio/thread is made by me. The rights belong to myself. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)
//: Jacen Breska 'TK-710' //:
//: WOOSTRI //:
//: Attire //:
//: Unlucky Reassignment Part 1 //:

Taking full advantage of her last stimpack, CT-312 forced herself to continuously sprint until she made it to the eliminated Rebel Patrol Outpost. Slowly the remaining effects were wearing off. The pain was bearable. For now. Breathing heavily, mouth dried. There was no time to catch her breath. CT-312 started to rummage around. Looking. ‘There’s no way they’d all walk here.’ Hastily pulling on any tarps or clothes laying around. Removing the sandy covering as the fabrics fell to the ground. Revealing a bunch of radios, boxes, and a few other equipment. “CHIT”, she cursed out loud to no one. CT-312 swept through the area multiple times. Finally noticing a lightly buried tarp that was located outside of the tents. Gritting her teeth, she used her right hand and yanked hard. Taking a few steps back, uncovering a couple of swoop bikes. Relieved to find what she was looking for. CT-312 realized she needed keys. "Of. Course."

[ 00 : 23 : 37 ]

Patting down the fallen rebels again. Luckily she came across a water canteen. Taking a short pause. The Scout Trooper needed the water just as much as she needed the keys. Flipping the canteen open, pouring the water in her mouth. It had a slight metallic tang to it. The left over blood in her mouth disappearing as she downed the rest of the liquid. Securing her helmet back on, she went back searching. CT-312 could feel herself start to slow down. Pushing herself, looking through the first few bodies. The only items useful were the water and a few grenades. Pocketed the explosives, by the fifth body, CT-312 was in luck. Keys. Grabbing them, she tottered to the speeder bikes. Trying each one until one roared to life. Realizing she needed both of her arms, she began to stagger back into the outpost. Clutching her side, feet dragging. There were some ropes that were laying around. Picking some up CT-312 head back to the bike. Turning off the bike, taking off her helmet. The injured scout started to tie the handles down. Using her teeth to help tighten the ropes as her right hand pulled. Then connecting the ropes together making makeshift reins. Shifting the reigns position to “forward”.

Putting her helmet back on, CT-312 sat on the bike. Knowing the moment she turned the ignition the swoop will just shoot forward at full speed. Closing her eyes for a moment, CT-312’s could tell her body was starting to give out. She could feel it. The burning sensation slowly took over. Her whole body throbbed. Closing her eyes again, taking a deep breath, ‘Well, here it goes…’ . Leaning forward, straddling the bike. She squeezed with her thighs and braced herself for the sudden forward jerk as the engine roared to life. The bike launched forward without any warning. Grabbing the makeshift reins, CT-312 was able to steer the bike towards the direction of the extraction.

[ 00 : 14 : 19 ]

The rattling was torture. The half conscious Scout Trooper was trying her best to keep her eyes open and focused. With every vibration the pain bloomed in CT-312’s body. The suffering she was feeling became louder than her thoughts. It was gradually getting worse. With every heartbeat the sharp throbbing that was consuming her body dug deeper. Breathes becoming shallow. Heavy eyelids were slowly closing. Despite the immense speed the Swoop Bike was going. The ride felt long and agonizing.

CT-312’s right hand started to shake, but not from the bike. Was all this effort futile? Her body started to slump forward. Her thighs that were straddling the bike were beyond exhausted. As the swoop cut through the sand and glass, small silhouettes were coming into view. ‘Troopers?’, CT-312 hoped. Her helmet's zoom, picked up on the silhouettes and magnified the subjects. It was definitely not Troopers. Instead it was Rebel Patrol Camp. A croaky scoff escaped her mouth. ‘Might as well’. She had nothing to lose. Nearing the Rebels, they’re were focusing somewhere else. No matter. Forcing herself to sit up, CT-312 looped the makeshift reins to the upper part of the bike’s body where she was hunched over. Reaching in her pack, prepping each grenade as she pulled out the grenades one by one. Dropping them as the bike cut through the camp. Brief screaming could be heard as the bike zoomed through running over one or possibly two Rebels in the process.

As the last grenade was dropped, the bike exited the camp. CT-312’s head slowly dipped down. Eyes about to close. Catching a sudden glimpse of what the Rebel’s attention was on. It was the Troopers. A small smirk appeared, as her body leaned over off the bike. Body hitting the sand, rolling for a couple of feet. Stopping on her back, she saw blue. ‘Ah. The sky.’ , How she loved to look at the vast open heavens. That was her favorite part as a scout. One of the few things she could take solace in. Explosions from the grenades dropped were going off, but everything was muted and muffled. Eyes slowly closing. Everything was becoming quiet. It was peaceful.

[ 00 : 09 : 53 ]

 

[Jacen Breska 'TK-710']

EQUIPMENT: DC-17m | Jacen’s Second Legion Armor
LOCATION: :: Woostri - I18 ::
TAG: CT-312

The constant stream of rebel blaster fire deafened all other sounds, and the team of Troopers remained still. Pressed flatly against the ground of woostri, they continued to wait, hoping for the occasional break in fire so they’d be able return fire safely. Off to Jacens left, the quiet sniper sat with his barrel nestled between two rocks, taking shots at the rebels, and suddenly Jacen remembered what his own weapon was. Reaching around, below his backpack, Jacen pulled out a scope and a longer barrel. Clicking the barrel into place and sliding the scope along the top, Jacen rested the weapon against the rocks just as he’d seen the sniper do, and looked through the scope. He cursed silently to himself with what he’d seen.

The rebel ambush position was prepared. Their own firing positions were covered extraordinarily well, firing through armored areas and dug in foxholes. Their preparation was something to be admired, to bad it only served to irritate Jacen.
He slammed a fist down against the ground in frustration, halfway accepting his fate. He cursed the people who sent him here, he cursed the lack of support on the mission, he cursed the Alliance for having left behind, evidently, their greatest team of guerilla fighters in the Galaxy.
And he cursed himself most of all.
“Damn. Okay, Uh…” He stammered, looking back through the scope. He searched for any weak point, any breach in their defenses that they could exploit. Behind the line of dug-in fighting holes, he saw the Sniper was taking shots at the back line, bringing down rebels as they scurried about, resupplying their positions.
He also looked over at 1782, the riot trooper holding a steady position, using his shield to provide cover as a trooper peeked out from behind it to return covering fire. The thought of using him, as with before with the bunker, came to mind.
“As good a plan as any,” he whispered as he prepared to join the Sniper,
“1782! Same plan as before, with the bunker! We thin out their backline, you and a team advance! Copy!”
A grunt came over the radio, and Jacen saw him nod and slowly start to advance, and Jacen looked through his scope and sighted his first target.
Kraak!
A red blast shot out of his blaster, flying past the holes and searing the back of a rebel running to the other side of the base. Jacen noticed that they seemed to be a bit panicked, shuffling, right before the firing positions focused on him, sending him scurrying flat against the ground as blaster bolts kicked up rock and glass shards into the air as Jacen could do nothing but endure the onslaught until the blasters moved away. As they did, he peeked again, observing the assault teams progress before something else caught his eye. He could just make out a shape on a speeder zooming to the camp, throwing grenades around, before reaching the end of the camp and falling hard off the still moving bike.

“Is that…312?” Jacen asked, gesturing to the figure. The sniper looked over, catching Jacen’s faceplate, and nodded.

A wave of elation washed over Jacen, and he heard himself cheering, hand raised in the air, until another blast sent him back down. The grenades had cleared out most of the rebels, and had definitely knocked out their firing positions, but what remained of the rebels withdrew in a fighting retreat, repositioning to continue the engagement from elsewhere.

“No, you pricks, that works for me,” Jacen muttered to himself, taking a deep breath, “Sniper,” he called out and the Sniper looked, “Provide additional cover!” He scrambled to his feet and sprinted forward to join 1782 who, himself, was sprinting forward to 312.

As they approached, Jacen slid down next to the broken trooper, looking down into their faceplate. He held a finger to their neck and checked for a pulse.
“Weak, but alive,” he reported, as 1782 sighed with relief and put his shield in position, giving cover to Jacen and 312. The rebels, having repositioned, began firing again. And as the rest of the troopers began to over take the position, 1013, the coward, sprinted up and got into position behind 1782, peeking around the shield and taking shots at the enemy.

Jacen nodded in appreciation at the work his team was doing and slung his medical pack off his back. Opening the top, he pulled out the last of his stims, and a brace, jabbing both of them into 312, one just under their chest plate, and one between the gaps on their arm plates, before quickly fitting the brace around their arm.

“312?” he called out, shaking the trooper gently, “You alive? You’ve got a lot of fans who want to thank you, trooper, c’mon wake up!”




​

 

[CT-312]

(All art on this bio/thread is made by me. The rights belong to myself. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)
//: Jacen Breska 'TK-710' //:
//: WOOSTRI //:
//: Attire //:
//: Unlucky Reassignment Part 1 //:

The sky stretched endlessly, a soft canvas of pastel blue. It was comforting. Death was comforting.

Sand and glass shifted. Her vision was blocked by a silhouette figure. ‘Who?’ , Feeling fingers on her throat. Vision blurred, CT-312 struggled to focus her eyes on who was hovering above her. Blocking her view of the blue. Eyes struggling to stay open.

“Weak, but alive,”

Muffled muted words were heard. Barely making out what was being said. ‘TK-710?’, as her eyes began to make out the shape. CT-312 felt two unfamiliar stabbing pains on her chest and arm.

“312?” he called out, shaking the trooper gently, “You alive? You’ve got a lot of fans who want to thank you, trooper, c’mon wake up!”

The pain that once engulfed her body ebbed away gradually. Shallow breathing turned into larger intakes of air. “TK-710” whispered weakly. Foggy consciousness began to clear up. Words were slowly being made out. CT-312 felt her left arm moving around. Slowly tilting her helmet, looking down TK-710 was focused. Putting her arm in a proper sling. Audio was processing in her head. Sounds of bolts hitting a shield caught her attention. “MB-1782”, spoken a little bit louder as more air filled her lungs.

“W-we can’t j-just stay here!” shouted CT-1013 as he shot a few burst shots while he was peeking around the Shield Trooper.

“I-I GOT THIS!! W-We got to g-go!“, fully standing up, running out of cover. Shooting at the rebel’s, briefly grabbing all their attention. All the blue bolt’s shifted towards the Shock Trooper. Using this opportunity, despite his massive frame, MB-1782 turned sharply and scooped up CT-312 from off the ground. Sand slipped from his fingertips as held her. Nodding at TK-710.

“GO.” a deep thunderous command.

Slightly confused with what was happening once more. CT-312 could see the Shock Trooper. Finally processing what was going on, she looked at who was giving them cover fire as they retreated. Surprised. “CT-1013.”. The Shock Trooper took a stumble, but he quickly got back up. Hunched over running towards them. Still shooting back at the Rebels.

As the Troopers fell back, CT-312 tried to reposition herself. Struggling in MB-1782’s arms. Slinging out her DLT-19. The Shield Trooper had a hunch of what the Scout Trooper wanted to do. He adjusted his arms, hoisting herself up proper. His intuition was right. The unrelenting Scout Trooper . With one hand, she swung the main body of her gun on his wide shoulder. An impromptu bipod. Aiming down the sides, she pulled the trigger. MB-1782 tightened his grip around CT-312 as the recoil of the weapon was about to fling her out of his arms. Their HUD’s flashing the timer. It was the end.

[ 00 : 00 : 00 ]

“ Time. Is. Up. The drop ships have just arrived and the pilots have been instructed to depart in five. Better board, don’t keep them waiting! ”

They were in luck. As the rebels slowly pursued the retreating Troopers. Finally making it to the extraction zone. The Troopers that haven’t boarded yet spotted the group that grabbed CT-312. Troopers that already boarded their ship ran out. All laying down cover fire helping their fellow Troopers. Red and blue bolt blasters were zipping everywhere. MB-1782 quickly inspected the handful of drop ships with their cargo bays open. “THERE”, his voice cut through the chaos around them. Pointing with his head, looking at a ship that was close by with no Troopers around. Able to board the ship with a few minutes to spare, he placed CT-312 down in one of the seats and banged loudly at the ship's interior hull. Indicating them to leave.

Engines roared as the ship started to lift. Rattling and metal groaning from the deflected bolt blasters that were shot at it. The bay door closed fully and they began their ascent. CT-312 looked around. Everyone was catching their breath. She couldn’t believe she survived. Knowing full well she wouldn’t if it weren’t for them. Never in her whole life, she’d thought someone would help her. CT-312 wobbly stood up. Doing physically her best to be ‘at attention’. With her good hand she did the salute she did with MB-1782. Saying out loud firmly for everyone to hear, “Thank you. All of you.”
The Shock and Shield Trooper stood up and saluted back. Both saying “Thank you” at the same time. Knowing that they too wouldn’t have made it out of the mission if it weren’t for each other.

Suddenly CT-1013 doubled over. “Argh.”, His hand clutching his side. “I guess. T-The adrenaline wore o-off…” he took his hand off, inspecting. “I don’t feel so g-good.”, facing his palm to the group. It dripped red. His armor was compromised. Too much blood was lost. The shot that caused him to stumble earlier connected deeper than he thought. His body collapsed back into the seat. Breath labored. Taking off his helmet. CT-1013 let out an airy laugh. “I deserve this”, tilting his helmet up looking at the three. “I-I hope. I did s-something at the end to m-make up for my c-c-cowardness.” his voice was becoming soft as he spoke.

Watching CT-1013 collapse and hearing his final words. The atmosphere became somber. Despite not knowing anything about the soldier and dealing with his pathetic antics before. In the end, he decided to try and change his fate. CT-312 respected that. “No longer a coward.” she firmly stated. “A True Trooper in the end.”

“T-True Trooper.” He smiled weakly. Voice becoming raspy. “T-That has a nice r-ring to it.”, he slowly dipped his head to do a final nod. “T-Thank you.” breathing his last breath.

​

 

[Jacen Breska 'TK-710']

EQUIPMENT: DC-17m | Jacen’s Second Legion Armor
LOCATION: :: Woostri - Extraction[/I]::
TAG: CT-312

Jacen never thought he’d be so happy to see the inside of one of these assault crafts. Ninety percent of the time seeing the inside of them meant you were going into battle, not coming out. Still, the cold dark metaled walls and uncomfortable seats might as well have been paradise. Jacen certainly thought so as he doubled over on a chair, pulling his helmet off to catch his breath. He looked up at CT-312 as they saluted and thanked everyone, and returned a tired salute. Impressed as he was they all had the gas to do it, he simply could not follow in their footsteps. It felt as if suddenly everything he’d done all struck him at once. Surely, everyone felt the same.

But he had nothing to prove to any of them anymore. He was tired, he’d earned a rest, they all did. They’d forgive him his lack of decorum this one time.

“Thank you, 312,” he said finally after catching his breath. “We would have been able to get out of there…but not without taking some more losses. So…thank you.”

Then, as if out of nowhere, CT-1013 collapsed. Suddenly reinvigorated, Jacen pushed himself off the seat and moved next to the trooper. Instinctively, he reached into his medpack for a bacta stim only to remember he had run out. He looked around, asking somberly, “Does anyone…?”
A sea of shaking heads. What medical supplies everyone else had brought had been used as well. Jacen sighed, cursing silently, and looked back at 1013, unable to find the words to say until after the trooper had passed on.

It wasn’t right. The mission was over. He’s survived. Only to die here? Not even at the finish line, after it. The mission was over. He deserved to die on the mission.

They all deserved to die on the mission.

He raised his head and looked up at 312. “He deserves better.”


​

 

[CT-312]

(All art on this bio/thread is made by me. The rights belong to myself. Please do not use the art without permission. Thank you.)
//: Jacen Breska 'TK-710' //:
//: WOOSTRI //:
//: Attire //:
//: Unlucky Reassignment Part 1 //:

CT-1013’s corpse just sat there. Slightly shaking due to the turbulence. The silence in the ship's bay was deafening.

“He deserves better.”

Nodding once, ‘Indeed he did.’ CT-312 agreed. Looking around, everyone went back to their seats. Waiting for what’s next to come. Noticing that the ship had drop pods intact. Eyes focused on the drop pod itself next to CT-1013. Shifting from their fallen Trooper back to the pod. The pain suppressants from the stims were starting to wear off and CT-312 knew she had to act fast. Abruptly standing, “MB-1782” in a calm manner walking over to him. “I need you to relocate my shoulder, while the stim is kind of working”. , undoing the sling and brace that TK-710 put on.

The giant Shield Trooper just stood up. Nodding. He placed a hand on CT-312’s body and used his other to grab CT-312’s arm, pulling it out straight to the side. His visor locked straight with hers. Counting down out loud.

“3”
“2”

There was resistance felt at first, applying an unbearable amount of pressure with one smooth quick motion.

POP

“1”

A sickening pop could be heard as CT-1782 guided the joint back into the socket. “GUHhh” , the pain bursted behind CT-312’s eyes. Despite the stim’s effects being somewhat in effect. The agony was made known to her whole body. “Thank you, CT-1782” she said through gritted teeth as she slowly tested out her left fingers, able to move them again. Slipping back on the brace and sling.

The Shield Trooper just watched as CT-312 made her way to CT-1013. Moving his body into the empty drop pod next to his seat. Placing his gun inside by him. She could hear heavy footsteps behind her. MB-1782 moved behind her watching. Closing the hatch, CT-312 took a step back. Taking her right glove off for a moment. Wincing. As she lightly cut the palm of her hand with the knife she had. Blood began to slowly pool. Closing her hand, coating he whole inside. She suddenly slapped the metal frame of the drop pod hard.

THUD

A loud thud rang through the bay. Her hand stung, but it was kept on the makeshift drop pod coffin. CT-312 thought about CT-1013’s sacrifice. If it weren’t for him and the others. She would have been dead. This would weigh on her mind heavily. ‘We may not know anything about each other nor be related. But you sacrificed yourself for mine. For that, you will always have a family.' , CT-312 thought back about her clone brothers and how they had each other. But no one had her. Respecting and acknowledging the truth of CT-1013's sacrifice, despite being a nobody to her. Now he is somebody, whom CT-312 will remember till the day she dies. “...A True Trooper indeed...” she whispered. Lifting her hand up. A bloody hand print was left. Slipping back her glove on. Stepping aside.

MB-1782 followed suit. Silently understanding and mimicking the Trooper that saved him from the orbital bombardment when he was stuck.

THUD

The short Camo Trooper could’ve easily left him there. Easily left all the Troopers there. Clearly they were capable. Respect and honor is what this tiny odd color Trooper was all about. As he was observing her from the moment they dropped down on Woostri. “Died with Honor”, the Shield Trooper bowed his head down to their fellow deceased Trooper. Stepping back.

They made their final salute as CT-312 launched the drop pod. Ejecting the metal coffin into the body of water of Woostri. Plunging deep below the water's surface. A proper final resting place.

“HEY! Who just did that?! Unauthorized use of a drop pod!”

No one said anything.

“You all think you’re real cute eh? All of you will be sent to the detention chamber upon return!”

Still met with silence.

The Troopers made their way back to their seats and sat silently for the remainder of the flight back. CT-312 reflected on the past events that just briefly occurred.

—

Making a mental note that TK-710 didn’t fully participate in the saluting. A partial attempt was made. For whatever reason it may be: not his unit, exhaustion, or whatever. Either way, it lacked discipline, respect, and honor. ‘The Troopers in the Empire are lacking.’ Maybe that’s why she was sent here too. She was lacking in her own way or maybe she was sent for to be someone else's problem. Her train of thought cut short by TK-710’s voice.

“Thank you, 312,” he said finally after catching his breath. “We would have been able to get out of there…but not without taking some more losses. So…thank you.”

The Camo Trooper just nodded back. It was a first for CT-312 to be acknowledged for their work on the field. Woostri was a lot of firsts for her.

—

She didn’t understand why she bothered to help these random Troopers she was bunched with. Confused, but oddly content. No matter, CT-312 did her job even if she didn’t belong. The mission succeeded and her new ‘home’ awaits.

​