Ryloth 2

After a battle with my bowels and doing terminal damage to the officer toilets, I dragged myself off the pan and back to the bridge.

With Aayla gone, the ship was now an uber cockfest. Not one vagina in a thousand lightyear radius…or something like that, not too sure what the distance conversion is in hyperspace.

Now that my belly had stopped causing eruptions, I was free to listen to Commander Gears debriefing. Getting the info on the mission as a well tied together presentation sped the whole process up, made sure to compliment him for that.

Still, a debrief was still a debrief, and therefore, was fucking boring regardless.

My god, it was only half an hour long yet it felt so much longer.

Forcing myself to concentrate, to save myself from getting a rerun of the whole thing, I survived and all of the details were seared into my brain. I might've hotboxed the conference room in the process, but at least it made it through the lecture.

Once it was over I could finally get down to business. Nabbing a clone and dragging him into the medical bay.

Wait…I don't need to bag and drag. I'm the fucking boss here.

Belter. Guess I'll take my pick on the way over.

Striding through the monotonous grey halls, I passed by a couple of clones rushing here or there. Take off was a while ago, so I'm not completely sure why they're in such a hurry.

Soon enough I had reached my destination, the clones here mostly sitting around and chatting. Mostly about war related topics, but a few with more colourful armour were shooting the breeze about more mundane topics; such as the sportball game that was on during the weekend.

From what I could gleam, the 69th legion was a mix of veterans and shinies fresh out of Kamino. It was easy enough to tell who was who since the new soldiers had the typical battalion gear on, whereas the seasoned men had minor but recognisable decorations painted on their plastoid armour.

Even for the ones who decided against customisation, I could feel the difference. Fresh troopers all had similar emotions radiating off them, with few discrepancies almost as if they were programmed to feel a certain way. If you compared them to droids, I could see the reasoning.

Especially those B1's. Fuckers are a ballhair off sentience when they're left in the field for two long.

For now though, none of that's important. I just need a clone and a free c.t scanner.

I looked over the clones nearby, deciding on which to choose for what could possibly be the first inhibitor chip removal. Of course, that was after they got their almost chronic need for saluting out of the way.

Honestly man, I forgot how much I corrupted the star corps during my years stint as commander.

Missing the boys already.

Fuck went on a tangent again…fuck it man. Shifting my eyes with every word I started, "It, bit, bird, shit, hairy, fanny, juic-"

"General!" The ever recognisable voice of a clone prevented me from finishing my traditional method of choosing something

"Aye what is it?..." I responded, taking not of the black lines that ran down his wrist guard, as well as the similarly designed tattoos on each uncovered hand.

It was all vaguely familiar.

"I'm Sergeant Jet." That name got the gear in my head churning. I've definitely heard it somewhere before, is he a regular at the Dodgy Blaster?

No. Surprisingly I usually remember those who have upstairs passes.

Subtly I searched for anything that could give me a hint, and other that he tattoos, there really wasn't much to go on. The only thing that stood out was the med pack he-

Wait. I think I know who this is.

"I'm not sure if you remember but-" The clone was about to give me the easy way out, but having already done the mental gymnastics, I saved him the hassle.

"Geonosis, right? You were one of the medics stuck with me and Barris." The slight widening of the eyes and mouth left me satisfied. He probably thought I'd forgotten about him, and for the most part, I had.

The difference in perspectives was obvious, I offhandedly gave him a name based on the brand of alcohol I was drinking. Yet for him, it was quite possibly the first time anyone had given him an identity beyond his CT number.

Oft, did I just work that out by myself without cheating with the force?

Look who's in touch with their emotions now ae? Going to rub that in a certain someone's face when I'm back.

Aw shite, I've just been staring into space.

"-and so I heard that they were creating a new legion under your command. After that I applied for a transfer from the 187th and here I am."

I could've taken the risk and guess what he was talking about prior to me tuning back in, but I took the safe option, "Cheers mate…"

Always a good start, that. Time to bring it home.

"...Crazy story. Think you could tell me more in the medical bay, I was about to ask some of the men to come for a check up." I tossed the idea out.

Spinning his helmet around his hands, Jet replied, "Checkup? What's it for?"

"Don't know if you've heard, but back on Coruscant there's been an influx of green flu cases in and about the area near the temple and senate districts. Need to make sure no one has caught it, otherwise we'll all be fucked for Ryloth." I lied, spinning the tale as I went.

I'm sure there's some truth to it, there's definitely a flu going about Coruscant but I couldn't quite remember if it was the green or the red flu…

Either way Jet bought it, "We never left the ship while we were on Coruscant, so I doubt anyone will have it. But you can have me checked anyway, just to be sure."

"Good stuff mate." Putting an arm around his shoulder, I ushered him into the med-room, "C'mon then, it shouldn't take long."

At least I hoped so. Surely it won't be a hard find with all the tech in here.