Chapter Text
“Come on, L.T.,” groaned the shiny, as he disassembled his rifle again. “I know how to do it.”
“You know how to do it,” rebutted the lieutenant in question, “when you have someone watching you. I’m here to make sure you know how to do it when there’s no one here holding your hand.”
CT-4929 ‘Rho’ rolled his eyes, but finished disassembling his DC-15A as ordered.
“Alright, Shiny, let’s see you do it again. Without any hints this time.”
The pair were interrupted by a squawk on the lieutenant’s communicator.
“Lieutenant Parza, report to the command deck.”
CT-3891 ‘Parza’ glanced down at the cufflink communicator, before glancing at the rookie clone in front of him.
“Looks like you’re off the hook for now, Rho. You’d better have this down by the time I get back, understood?”
“Sir, yes sir!”
Parza departed the armory, leaving Rho behind to reassemble his rifle as he made his way through the complex, eventually popping into the bright midday Naboo sun. It was a quick walk across ‘Republic Plaza’, as the locals referred to it, to get to the command center, situated in a repurposed wing of the Theed public affairs building. As usual, the main building was busy with mostly minor disputes, leaving the staff with enough freedom to acknowledge Parza as he made his way through to the 27th Garrison Corps’ command center.
A handful of clones were busy as he entered and briefly stopped to nod or salute to him before resuming their work, but largely leaving the lieutenant to his devices.
Parza stepped into the commander’s office after a quick thump on the doorframe. The Corps’ commander was sitting gazing out his window at Theed Palace.
“Sir.”
“Sit down, Parza.”
With a mild note of discomfort at the briefness, Parza did as he was told, perching uncomfortably on the edge of his seat.
“Is there a problem, sir?”
“No.”
CC-3223 ‘Turbo’ sighed and turned to face Parza.
“I have news.”
“Is it bad?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“How you look at it.”
Parza sat awkwardly, waiting for a better answer. It was not a long wait.
“I’m being reassigned to Coruscant.”
“Coruscant? Why are we going to Coruscant?”
“No, Parza: not us. The 27th is staying here. I’m being reassigned to Coruscant.”
Parza blinked.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. But orders are orders. And good soldiers follow orders.”
“What does this mean for the rest of us? We’re getting some new CC?”
“I’m not sure. There was nothing in the reassignment order about who’s replacing me, just that they’ll be arriving planetside tomorrow at 0900. The transport that drops them off is going to take me to Coruscant.”
Parza frowned, but Turbo held up a hand before he could protest.
“You’re staying here, Parza. You’re a good trooper, and whoever’s replacing me needs a reliable officer keeping the shinies in line.”
“Respectfully, sir, there aren’t a lot of shinies here who need keeping in line.”
Turbo gave him a look, and Parza rolled his eyes.
“Besides Rho, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“Who’s to say there won’t be shinies on Coruscant who don’t need to be kept in line?”
“This report, actually.”
Parza frowned.
“Are you just trying to leave me behind, commander?”
“Of course not. I’d take the whole lot of you if I could. But I can’t. And that’s the end of it.”
The battalion commander rose, and headed towards a sideboard with a small glass bottle and several glasses.
“I know we don’t drink on duty,” Turbo commented softly as he popped the plug out of the bottle and poured two small shots into two of the glasses, “but it seems to be that… well… this is the end of the line for our partnership.”
He held the glass towards Parza, a silent invitation. Parza stared at the drink, and then at Turbo, and then back at the glass again before slowly rising and joining him at the sideboard.
“One day the war will be over, Lieutenant. But it probably won’t be today.”
“Probably not, sir.”
“To the Republic.”
“To the Republic.”
They knocked glasses, and downed their shot apiece.
0900 hours came quicker than Parza would have liked, but he saw to it that the 27th was dressed and on call for their commander’s sendoff and new arrival. Even Gambit’s AT-TE crew was ready for parade, set and ready for the grand landing.
By the time the shuttle pierced atmo and was heading on final approach, the 27th was a little antsy with anticipation and discomfort. The LAAT descended on to the landing pad, and Turbo and his command crew made their way forward to meet it.
All except Parza, who stayed back alongside third squad: the shinies.
“What’s the deal, Lieutenant?” Asked Mu uncomfortably.
“I dunno, trooper; all I know is we’re getting a new commander. You know what that means?”
Behind him, he could hear Lambda sigh.
“Double-time drills, sir?”
“You’d better believe it.”
The gunship door slid back, and two clones emerged. Parza started: two clones? Turbo had omitted to mention there would be two. Or maybe his reassignment orders had omitted to mention there was a second trooper joining them.
The second note that made Parza pause was that one of them was not just some new CC-class clone; he had an ARC-edge kama.
“Why are they sending us an ARC trooper?” He asked, forgetting for a brief moment his audience.
“An ARC trooper??” Hiccuped Rho.
There was not enough time for a followup conversation as Turbo turned to face the Corps.
“Troopers!” He roared.
There was an audible click in the plaza as the 27th Garrison snapped to sharp attention as one.
“This is your new CO, and your new XO.”
The ARC gave a curt nod.
“You’ve made me proud with the diligence with which you have kept guard over Naboo: I trust you will continue to do so under new leadership.”
“Sir, yes sir!” Answered the 27th.
“If there comes a time that the Seppies make their way to Naboo, will they gain a foothold?”
“Sir, no sir!”
“That’s right!”
There was a brief pause, not lengthy, but just enough to be tangibly felt. Turbo hesitated, his eyes scanning over his battalion. If he harbored any thoughts to refuse his orders and stay, he did not voice them. His eyes locked onto Parza’s helmet; and then he gave a nod, he saluted the ARC, and stepped onto the LAAT.
“This is going to be something…” Muttered Parza, as the LAAT lifted off and ascended into orbit.
The ARC was silent for a space, his eyes scanning slowly across the neatly ordered groups and squads of the 27th. Finally, he spoke.
“I am CT-1927,” he said with an authority none of the 27th were prepared for. “You will refer to me as Commander, Sir, or both. Your new XO–” he gestured to his wingman– “is Captain Dice; you will refer to him as Captain, Sir, or both.”
1927? Parza frowned. That was an old CT batch; that was a pre-Battle Of Geonosis batch. The Commander was still speaking, but he barely heard: an original batch Clone, and his own right hand executive officer with him?
That was odd; very, very odd.