Darkness. Darkness everywhere. You clear it away and you find it was just holding a seat for more darkness. Feel better now Barrel?
Shut up... you dont know me.
If only that were the case.
"Wake up, CT-3470."
A cold, sterile voice wafts into my mind.
My eyes open. Or were they always open? I strain to close them again, to hide behind my eyelids.
I can't. They won't close... why?
The world seems murky, like I'm looking through water. I realize I am floating.
All around me, the harsh casing of a transparisteel tank. To a larger extent, rows and rows of them filled with tiny buds of flesh, floating, twitching, feebly trying to escape the horror of its own existance.
Slender pale figures browse the tanks, inspecting, judging. One stops at me, and its gaze changes.
"It seems this one is inadequate," coos the sickening tenor.
Thin, tendrilous fingers reach through the glass, coming for me.
I try to scream, but I have no mouth. I have no arms to fight back, nor legs to flee.
I have no chance. I have no choice.
The cold white fingers lace around me, crushing me.
The touch is so cold, so hard, so heavy...
I can't breathe.
This is it.
"Think he's dead?"
Did I say that? No... But it sounded just like me..
Astounding pressure surrounds me.
"We couldnt be so lucky."
There it was again. But different.
My lungs scream for oxygen.
I can feel my fingers. I manage to move my left arm, groping around where my face should be. I feel a mess of ravaged metal. I try to sit up; I manage to shift the captive debris a bit. Slowly I alternate sitting up and pushing with my free arm. Eventually I force myself out from under the rubble, and taste fresh air again. The geonosian sun glares at me through my shattered visor.
"Shab, he's alive. I owe you a drink, Bangor."
I roll to my hands and knees, gulping air and coughing red dust. Two of the commandos stand before me, sillhouetted in the red luminescence.
"You bastards could have helped me."
"You looked like you had it."
I glance to my right. The third commando is crouched over the fourth.
The other two hang their heads.
"Not the first or last clone to die on Geo." I chide.
"What is the matter with you?" One of the standing clones approach where I half stand.
"Where do I begin?" I stand, looking him directly in the visor. "Spending one minute with you lovely lot, then the next unconcious under the remains of my ship kind of puts a damper on my mood." I don't want a fight with these matching murder machines, but I won't let them walk on me. We maintain eye contact for a moment, before he is pulled away.
"We need to complete the mission." The third commando rejoins the group. He glances at me. "Can you use a weapon?"
I scoff, and make a steering gesture with my hands. "If you've got a gun I can climb inside of and drive around!"
"Im getting sick of your attitude!" Bangor again.
"I'm getting sick of your face."
The trio of commandos stare at me for a moment, unsure what to make of the statement. Clone jokes reach a whole new level of hilarity if you are one.
We stood in silence for a moment, before the silence was broken by the a small tumbling of rocks.
The three commandos stared at the disturbance, as did I. Standing proudly atop a craggy spire, a blood-red mandalorian pointed a missile launcher at us.
"Shab!" shouted one of the clones, as we scattered. The nameless two went one direction, Bangor and myself went another. We dove for cover behind a smoldering heap of my ruined ship. There was a hiss, and an explosion. Bangor unslung his weapon and peered over our shield.
"NOOO!" He roared. As I peek over the ravaged hull, I see what had befallen the pair who had not found a shield.
Bangor fired his weapon at the mandalorian who had killed his brothers, and I turned to run. I dont know where I am going. Only that I needed to escape.
I skirt along the cliff face, hoping to find a way down, a place to hide until I could possibly salvage my radio. Behind me, the sound of blaster bolts echo from the mountain face. I round the corner, and come face to face with another mandalorian. I jump back, before realizing he is half my height.
"Wow you guys come in all sizes don't you?"
In his hands he grips two blades, the one in his right reversed.
"Good luck using those surrounded by rocks!" I look for a way around him, as he raises his right hand and drives the butt of his sword through my ruined visor.
For the second time in a few short minutes, things go black.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Hetty meandered around the wreckage, both human and vehicular.
"Bev'ika. There you are. Did you get the pilot?"
He hung his head. "No, buir... I accidentally knocked him off the cliff."
She laughed. "Thats my little verd'ika. Don't worry son, mine got away too. For knockoffs of Jango, those guys are pretty quick. Now help me gather up anything useful, and let's get back to the lab. We can likely be expecting company soon."
* * * * * * * * * * *
I awaken, hours later, a ways down the mountain. My body is throbbing. I take stock of my surroundings; I seem to have rolled down the side of the thing and under an outcropping. My ankle seems strained, but I can make myself stand. The geonosian sun has set, and it is growing cold.
I am all alone, stranded on an enemy world with no supplies, no applicable training and no hope.
I could really use a vod right now.