C1P11

Waking up as a droid isn't very much like waking up like a human being. For one, I instantly become aware as soon as my internal hard drives reboot. Though I can't feel the cold, internal diagnostic tell me there is significant damage to my left leg. My joints are also frozen solid.

None of this can prepare me for the sight that lay before me.

We were sitting in the heavy two seater STAP I had...requesitioned. Just short of the rear end was clear and solid ice or severely packed snow that formed an opaque bubble around us and most of the vehicle.

I surmised that Ventress must have used the Force to throw up a shield at the very last second, and through desperation, she must have succeeded in the attempt.

But that wasn't the most shocking thing.

But it definitely had to do with Ventress, who had slumped onto me.

My hands were frozen to her chest. Well, sort of. One of them was just shy of grabbing the damned things, but my memory bank has me screaming as loud as my vocabulators could go and raising my hands in front of my in a futile attempt to block the massive wall of ice and snow from burying me.

Forgive me God, Maker, or Deity, but I curse you for not letting me have real hands to use right now!

"Oh goddammit," I groused, willing my hands to move. No luck.

Ventress sneezed.

I froze. Well, as well as I could in the situation. The acolyte shifted and moved away and with a sickening snap, most of my right arm went with her, comically attached to her chest.

I stared at the stump of my arm and swore.

It would be at least an hour or working some heat into my internal body to at least allow my apparent brittleness to fade away some before I came up with a plan. I hoped Ventress forgives me for using her lightsabers without her permission. Hopefully, I thought as I massaged some color back into her skin with some supplies I brought in case this sort of thing happened. A thermo-blanket was draped over her as I felt for her belt and found one of the lightsabers.

Gingerly, I picked up the curved saber and activated it. Quickly, I stabbed at the ceiling, instantly vaporizing the packed ice and snow. Within minutes, I had cut a wide shaft through the ice and began working my way to the top.

It would be half an hour of constant working before Ventress woke up.

"Unit Seven-One-One, explain yourself!" She screeched, eyes flaring from the bottom of the shaft. "Why the hell do you have my lightsaber?!"

"I am using your lightsaber to cut us a way out," I replied in apology as I waved the stump of my arm at her. "It was my intention to save you, my lady."

Ventress did not look pleased, but at least she was willing enough to let me run with that excuse. She removed the blanket and took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment and beginning a fast climb up towards me.

"We may be too late. The Jedi are already on their way to the weather control station," I remarked, cutting through the last layer of ice. "I estimated that you suffered at least an hour of unconsciousness. Even with the forces I deployed at the weather control station, I don't think-"

"Gout." Hissed Ventress, her eyes opening. "That bastard. Once I get my hands on him-"

"Yes, he is a problem," I agreed as I offered her my remaining intact arm. "Trying to kill the Jedi with us in it? Despicable. May I have the pleasure of shooting his feet, my lady?"

Ventress considered it as I pulled her out of the ice.

"I will think on it," she said, drawing her lightsabers to her and clipping them to her belt. Ventress scanned the area with her eyes, but there was nothing I could tell that was new...aside from the roughly smooth mass of snow that hadn't been there previously. There was an obvious tilt to it, but it was level enough for stable footholds. The acolyte spotted something and ran towards it. I followed warily, hobbling along.

I found her standing over a hole, much like the one I had cut us out of.

"The Jedi survived, obviously. Then they must be on their way to the station," murmured Ventress softly. She glanced at me, "How many did you send to reinforce?"

I replied immediately, listing them off the top of my head. "Two divisions of regular troops, along with a detachment of BX Commandos, a recon squad, a squadron of fighters, and an armored division."

"That should do it, however, it may already be too late," she muttered darkly. "It will take some time to return to base, so I suggest we move quickly."

"But my lady, I am far too damaged to cover much ground," I said, protesting. It was true, my left leg was structurally poor and could snap off any moment, and I missing an arm. "It may be best if you left me behind..."

"No. You are a far better commander, an actual competent commander," snapped Ventress, baring her teeth. "Such a valuable droid like yourself is invaluable and thus must command the troops while I am away. Get on my back."

"M-my lady?" I stuttered, somewhat shocked.

"I will not ask twice." Her voice was testy as she stared at me, unblinkingly. "Now."

I obeyed immediately, wondering how all this came to be as she began to run; far faster than any person had any right to.

An Hour Ago...

Ozzel had the brilliant idea of trying to get the droid guards to take him up to the medical wing for injury, but unfortunately the droids didn't buy it and simply told him to get back to work. The Major wasn't convinced that his idea was without merits and continued, citing that he was a Major of the Republic Army and that he important information he was willing to part with. The guards shocked him with a staff before roughly pushing him back down to the pits.

Wolffe was pretty sure the man was willing to sell his mother to Separatists to save his own miserable little neck.

"I dunno about you, but wasting away in here is not how I imagined my would end," said Spitter, wiping away sweat from his brow. He leaned on his jackhammer and cast eyes over to a sulking Ozzel. "I talked to some of the other prisoners while the Major distracted the guards. Looks like at least a two dozen can begin."

"Any of them know how to pilot a ship?" Comet asked as he hammered away at a chunk of agrocite that refused to budge.

Spitter nodded as he restarted his jackhammer. "Some, yeah."

"Right then, one hour, and then we start," Wolffe, sharply. "I'll cover the exits. Once the guards are down, we'll steal jetrails and tanks, then secure a starship. Once we're in the air, we head for the the weather control station and take it out."

"Roger that," nodded the other clones as they picked up chunks of agrocite ore before individually walking away in separate directions.

Wolffe grabbed Ozzel, wordlessly handing him a jachammer. "Don't worry, sir. I've got a plan. Can you wait one hour?"

"What's happening in an hour?" Grumbled the Major under his beard as he clumsily send the machine hammering away at the side of the outcropping.

"A rebellion," said Wolffe grimly.

The rebellion actually occurred earlier than planned, about half an hour, but when it did, it was surprisingly successful. The B1 Battledroid guards didn't have a chance to pull out their blaster rifles or use their electroshock staves before the enslaved kharmai were upon them, Clones and Republic officer alongside them, wielding improved weapons ranging from jackhammers, plasma cutters to rocks and fists.

BX Commandos and B1s rained fire from above the walkaways ten stories up, but with two veteran Clone soldiers directing the Kharmai, they quickly forced their way through the blast doors, grabbing blasters as they ran down the hallway. Dozens of droids attempted to block their escape, but the immense bulk of the underfed prisoners were not to be halted by mere droids.

B1s were crushed underfoot or thrown aside by kharmai as they reached the hangar bay, purloining E-5 Blaster rifles and pistols from fallen foes. A pair of droidekas sped down the side of the hangar as massed blaster fire filled the vehicle depot. The destroyer droids unfurled and began firing, forcing armed slaves and prisoners alike into cover.

"Major, cover me!" Said Spitter. Without waiting for confirmation, the clone threw himself forward, rolling behind several crates as Ozzel and Wolffe fired shots behind cover at the shielded droids, ducking again as stuttering blasts of laser bolts impacted their position. He clambered onto the deactivated half-disc of an AAT and crawled into the turret. Moments later, it began turning.

Spitter sighted the droids and pressed the trigger.

A fireball enveloped the Droidekas, overloading their shields and immolating them.

Cheers erupted as the slaves began loading up the Jetrails, while Ozzel joined Spitter in a tank and Wolffe and Comet grabbed another. The jetrails launched off as the AATs rumbled after them, their cannons spitting fire and devastating energy bolts.

In the face of two of their own armored vehicles, the droid opposition were utterly outclassed. Enemy battledroids were slow to react, and those that did were far and few. Gout had taken it upon himself to command the droids and his lack of military know how further compromised the defenders.

The spree of destruction the tanks carved was immense, rank after rank of standard B1s were annhilated, while BX were forced to run headlong into the cannon's repeater fire, cut down before they could do so much as make it close enough to do damage. Other tanks were either too far away or were destroyed by the tactical expertise of the clones.

Soon, it became apparent that the forces at his disposal were unable to mount an effective attack. Unfortunately before Gout could recall any of his remaining forces, a hailstorm of laser blasts blew open Persuader and AAT tanks, vaporizing dozens of smaller droids.

To his shock, Gout saw a lone missile cruiser firing away at the ground as a small shuttle launched from it's forward hangar bay. Missiles erupted from the ship's starboard silos, shooting into the sky and arcing down towards his command center.

Throwing a BX out of the way, the warlord threw himself into a reinforced elevator and hammered at the buttons.

-

"Thanks for the save Adaraan," said Wolffe with a tired grin, patting the massive kharmai's shoulder.

Adaraan nodded, grinning through his beard. Despite his immense size, the kharmai easily played with the controls of the ship, navigating the bulky warship through the skies as it sped away from their former prison.

"Where to then, Commander Wolffe?" The native asked, glancing at the clone.

"Direct course to the staging area," said Ozzel as he clambered into the bridge. Suddenly far more composed than he had been not half an hour ago, the Major took immediate command and began ordering the makeshift crew about.

"Sir, what about General Koon and Fisto?" Asked Comet pointedly. "We should contact them at the very least."

Ozzel scowled, shaking his head. "If the Jedi haven't destroyed that control station by now, then they must be already dead. Now get us to that staging area and call for reinforcements!"

Adaraan glanced up, as Wolffe and Comet exchanged looks. With a unhappy nod from Wolffe, the kharmai quickly tapped in coordinates Comet read out to him and set the ship flying.