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primusnine

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  1. "So no to the Chak questioning?" Crow asks, indicating to the prisoner sitting glumly in his cell. "If not, I might have a quick bit of bunk time, unless you've got something you need me to do, Torin. Or you, I suppose, clanker. Got to be fair about it I guess, you're part of our merry band as well."
  2. Hesitating, unsure of himself and the reason Torin would be so forthcoming, CR-0216 slowly raises his hand to meet the Kel-Dor's. As they clasp and shake, the Clone feels a huge surge of relief wash over him. The weight of guilt is still very much on his shoulders, but it seemed to have lessened, at least a little bit. Looking into the other man's eyes, he can see the acceptance and lack of fear, a confidence that is palpable from the Jedi. They were always so cool about everything. Crow wished he was half as relaxed; but there was some programming you could not shake, and wouldn't want to. Soldier life required a modicum of alertness at all times. "Right, now that we've got that sorted for the time being, what say we question Mister T'Vont about this rusted piece of junk?" the Clone asks as they break apart.
  3. "And you'd think I'd be the first to admit that. But it's not the truth, kid. Not by a long shot. Problem is, I don't know the real story," Crow sighs, unable to keep his voice level even though he's still irked by the Balosar's remarks. "Also wouldn't exactly say I'm their best mate, what with the whole being ordered to kill every single one of them by the man now sitting on the big seat at the center of the galaxy." The scene replays again and again in his mind. It did every day, anyway, but talking about it was not conducive to ignoring it. White snow. Victory. Laughter. Celebrations. Betrayal. Blasters. Defeat. Red snow. Thankfully the moment was keeping his attention fixed to the here and now, so the old soldier didn't collapse into the depression again. Torin's comments were on point, as always, his insight unsurprising given what he likely was in a past life. "Probably the case, sir. I don't imagine someone lugs artifacts like this around the galaxy without an idea in mind, or balls the size of a banthas. Sorry... That was a bit rude." As the battle droid stomps forward, Crow can't help but do two things. First, berate himself for forgetting the droid was there and letting it sneak up on them, and second, he reflexively reaches for his gun. But it's not an attack, he reminds himself. The B2 Unit is medical, now. And subservient to the Kel-Dor. Bloody galaxy is getting stranger by the day... More than that, it's proud of being cut by a lightsaber? The things you'd see before you die, Trooper. No one could have told you this'd be among them. But the droid's words cut as deep as any lightsaber, as it levels the the accusation the Clone knew would come sooner or later. He sighs again, this time careful to keep his voice controlled. "Can't exactly say you're off the mark there, clanker. In fact, if I was being completely honest, and I am sorry for this, Torin... I already shot at you once. Back in the docking bay. Those doors opened and I saw your weapon, instinct kicked in and I had squeezed the shot off before I knew what was going on." He waits, here. Expecting the droid to attack, or the Jedi. Or for his guilty heart to simply give out and let him escape the torment of his betrayal. "But I missed. And I'm bloody betting it was the Force at work. It was the nearest thing I have ever seen, and I can tell you now, I don't miss often. If you want to take my gun and lock me in with Chak, I will understand. Just know that I don't want to do this, never did, and I don't know why I feel like I have to. Something inside me is still compelling it, but a greater power is holding it back; the knowledge I never want to do it again. I never want to repeat the last day of the Clone Wars, ever." The words kept tumbling out. He had waited years to say these things. Months and days of agony at his crime going celebrated around the greater galaxy while he and every other Clone he knew who had taken part in the Purge hated themselves. He remembered the taste of the gun in his mouth as he contemplated pulling the trigger, on his darkest day. He knew it was a coward's escape. He knew it would mean running from the guilt, the shame, the crime. But he had taken hours to decide not to do it. Hours telling himself he could make a difference in the galaxy if he lived, to make up for the moment he had ended the life of a dear and trusted comrade.
  4. Unsure of what to make from the sudden and surprising exclamation, and then the tall Kel-Dor moving off towards the cargo bay as if someone had set his robe alight, Crow sat for a moment in the galley, wondering what he should do. "You ok here with our new friend, Solan?" he asks the Corellian, nodding to the Twi'lek who seemed to be as impassive as ever even with the sudden flurry of action aboard the ship. "I'm just going to go and check this one out. I don't think Ramani and freaky stuff need to go hand in hand any more than they already do." Standing, he picks up his rifle and slings it over his shoulder. Better to be safe than sorry, especially when a more than slightly twitchy fellow was hollering around the place like that. Reaching the bay just as Torin and Ramani begin their conversation, CR-0216 waits and watches, knowing better than to try and enter a conversation like this one. Way over my old head, all this. But the moment the Balosar refers to the Jedi as waste material, the clone finds himself opening his big mouth and unable to stop it. "I'd watch your bloody tone, slick. You might think the Jedi are some fairy tale, but I fought alongside them for years, and if you're referring to a lightsaber then I can promise it's anything but obsolete." He hears himself saying it, and hears the dangerous, low tone of a military man explaining something he doesn't want to have to repeat. He knows the kid probably won't listen, and then has to remind himself the kid has been alive possibly as long, or longer, than Crow has, but he'll be blasted if he's going to let someone badmouth people he respects. Respect, and keep thinking about how I have to bloody well shoot...
  5. "Phaeda, huh? From what I know the Imperial Garrison there is pretty blasted corrupt. At least, I think that was the place. Could be mixing it up with another planet," Crow says gruffly, not sure himself if it was Phaeda he remembered. He was getting slow in his advanced aging. "So, what? You want to hit Ithor, drop T'Vont off, then head somewhere to get the numbers better on the rifles? I'm not opposed to your idea, either, Torin. Could get a pretty credit or two for any bounty sitting on his head. But that also runs the risk of him getting loose and coming back after us for... All of this." Pondering for a moment, CR-0216 thinks on the possibilities they have at this junction. Either drop Chak into a hostile environment where he might survive and come back for revenge; drop him at a Bounty Office where they could get paid and then if he doesn't face the death penalty, he would definitely come back for revenge; or simply space the joker. No coming back from that. Kamino's bloody ocean, you are getting soft, trooper. When have you ever sat around mulling over this kind of business? That said, T'Vont's clearly a resourceful man. I could survive a few weeks on Ithor, or at least long enough to get back to civilisation and then find the buggers who dropped me there thinking I would cark it. Looking over at Torin, the Clone says, "However... Chak isn't going to go quietly, and I dear say his mates will sort him out pretty quick if they catch wind of him being locked up. That's if he's half the player he makes out. I'm just bloody wary we made a fair few enemies today. Not least of which is the Empire. And I was happily ignoring them for the most part..."
  6. "Hey I never said you were a criminal, Ramani. But thanks for being honest about it, I suppose," Crow chuckles as he walks into the galley proper, swinging a leg over one of the stools at the table and sitting with the Balosar. "And my story isn't a complicated one. I work different jobs that get sent through to me by the remaining Clones around the galaxy. We look out for one another, try to keep our brothers somewhere safe and with enough credits coming in to feed ourselves." Looking at the odd choice of food the fast talking man chooses, CR-0216 does his best to ignore the very loud chewing sounds, as he continues. "So I got told to find someone, last sighting on Ord Mantell, headed over there and who do I stumble across?" At this, the Clone points towards Eya. "Turns out she's got some people wanting to have chat to her. Problem is, I don't do jobs that set me against old mates, so I decided it was time for a vacation. Bloody poor choice of world to relax on, though. And then, while trying to find my way back to Coruscant, I came across a Devaronian offering passage if I provided some muscle for a deal he had coming up. Figured it'd be easy stuff. And then you came into my life, Ramani." He chuckles again, true mirth suffusing the sound this time. When Torin speaks next, Crow takes the time to really study the Jedi, as he knows that is what the man is. His quiet assurance, his contemplative nature, the calm way in which he moved and spoke; all of these were the hallmarks the Clone knew well. "I'm not one for killing unarmed prisoners of war, but I know all too bloody well the man would stab us in the back first chance he got, and then dump our bodies the way speedy here is suggesting we do to him. If you'd feel better about it, I can let him out of his cell and give him a warrior's death." As soon as the words leave his mouth, Crow feels the icy grip of dread inside him. Then he's back there again, in the falling snow, the two Jedi sitting and laughing on the cold stone, somehow warm amidst the chilling air of Mygeeto. A warrior's death... That's what you gave him, you hypocritical piece of bantha waste. He snaps out of the memory quickly, not wanting to dwell on the dark times now, not while he was interacting with people who weren't out to kill him. It made a nice change. "But I'll leave you to decide his fate, Torin. I will respect your decision on the matter. Just tell me what needs doing, and I'll see it done." Of course you will, you blasted automaton. Following orders like a good batch number does.
  7. Kriffing hell that Jedi's voice carries! Crow stops dead in the corridor as he hears Torin speak from the galley. Guess they've moved to slightly more relaxed decor. Following the sound of the Kel-Dor's voice, the Clone saunters through the ship, disgusted at the lack of military cleanliness and precision he was used to from warships. Arriving at the galley, he leans on the door frame, waiting for Torin to finish and keeping an eye on Ramani in case the slippery devil tries anything untoward on the now free Twi'lek. "Well," CR-0216 starts up after the Jedi finishes, "I was always planning to head back to Coruscant. But I don't think I can manage that in the company of an enemy of the state, a defunct war machine turned medic and some bloody criminals. Glad you put that slime-ball in the cells, just by the way. Now, the ship's droid mentioned something about our Twi'lek friend here having information that was of value to Chak, or the Black Sun. And while I'd bloody love to deal with The Empire, she's a bit of a big ask at the moment, General... Sorry, Torin."
  8. "Honestly, what? You even programmed with honesty?" Crow asks derisively. Then, noticing the navicomputer has accepted the coordinates the war droid has input, he starts. "Well, I underestimated you there. Turns out you've got an inbuilt compass eh?" Chuckling, the clone turns and places his right hand on the hyperdrive accelerator, slowly pushing it up and engaging the jump. The blackness around them, and all the pinpricks of light, draw long lines across the ship as it breaks through the barrier between normal space and hyperspace. With a blast and a rumble, the Nova Courier breaks into the blue-white tunnel and begins to travel at faster than light speeds. Opening the ship wide comm again, Crow speaks, "Ladies and gentlemen, and Ramani... We have entered hyperspace thanks to the..." he hesitates here, before grudgingly admitting, "Brilliant navigation of this B2 unit. On route to Ithor, will have an approximate time of arrival soon." Closing the channel, the trooper turns to S3-L3 and continues, "Sally, maintain current course and notify me as soon as the computer has confirmed time of arrival." Then he walks out of the cockpit, heading back towards the cargo bay and where he saw the scene of Chusara's freedom.
  9. Still glaring at the B2 droid, Crow responds to Eya without moving, "Not that I saw. Camera was trained on the Twi'lek's cell alone. Guess we can find out." And then, hearing Torin speak, Crow finally regains control of himself, though he can't decide if it is because of his own discipline or simply being used to following commands from the Jedi. "Very good, sir. I'll set a course for Ithor immediately. I'll return shortly, after plotting the jump through hyperspace." Turning on his heel with the practiced ease of a soldier, the Clone strides from the hallway and back to the cockpit. Throwing himself into the pilot's seat again, he brings the galaxy map back and starts to program the hyperdrive for the trip to Ithor. And it was the Jedi who were betrayed, Crow thinks bitterly as he works, by me and my brothers.
  10. Hey guys, Just checking, as we're having a convo about it tonight - can Ataru Strikers use Saber Swarm prior to using Hawk Bat Swoop, so they can then use the Force Dice to generate advantage for more hits with Saber Swarm? Cheers!
  11. "Actually," Crow scoffs derisively, "I was designed to bring peace to the Republic. We didn't even know the B2 series existed when we dropped into Geonosis." Trying to control his anger, and not doing well, the Clone's voice lowers to a rough snarl, "And I couldn't bloody keep count on the dozens that I personally took out. The difference being, with us organics, is we can't just get rebooted into a new body, clone or otherwise." Looking around the room, and reading the faces of the others, he knows this conversation isn't what they need right now, so Crow relents. A little. "Either bloody way, I'm letting her out. Eya, if you need to check her, fine. Bring that horned rat to replace her, if you'd feel better having at least one non-mechanical confined on board, droid."
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