A Star Wars FanFic inspired by the video game Star Wars: Republic Commando. Originally written in 2009.
The man lay on the hard mattress, staring up into the darkness. The stillness of the room could do little do ease the confusion and sentiments that plagued his restless mind. For several hours now he’d been deep in thought, trying to process his emotions.
He sat up and pulled away the bed sheets, setting his bare feet on the cold floor. Arms resting on his knees he closed his eyes, sighing deeply. The man stood from the mattress and walked over to the refresher. He filled his rough hands with water from the sink, and then splashed his face. After drying off his face with a towel the man examined the reflection in the mirror.
A week ago he would have seen a battle-hardened veteran soldier of the Republic. All he saw now was the miserable visage of a broken man. The same face he shared with millions of other war-bred drones. The same face he shared with the only three beings he ever considered as friends.
The man felt his fists clench involuntarily. He closed his eyes and felt a hot tear run down his face. Opening his eyes he once again examined the mirror’s reflection. He was a mess; unshaven and unkempt.
The man began to tremble and decided to lie back down…
Colonel Akrimon’s office was small with few decorations. He found that they distracted him from his work, which happened to be building up. He leaned back in his chair examining the work logs that he was required to look over at the end of each month. A second later there was a knocking at the door.
“Come in.” He said looking up from his work. The door slid open and Colonel Akrimon quickly stood, saluting the figure in the doorway. “Commander Haelstrom, I wasn’t expecting you this early.”
The older man returned the salute gravely. “There’s been a change in my schedule. I have to leave in the morning to meet with Intel agents concerning a new Separatist threat.”
“Might I inquire?” questioned the Colonel.
“You might. There’s reason to believe the Seps have developed a new biological weapon.”
“But the Queyta antidote; I thought…”
“As did we all,” Commander Haelstrom spoke tiredly. “But, that’s not why I’m here.”
Colonel Akrimon sat back down, and gestured for the commander to do likewise, “Yes sir.”
“Have you prepared Commando Unit 1024 for leave as I’d instructed you?”
“Well,” began Colonel Akrimon cautiously. “Sir, I don’t think he’s ready yet. He’s still showing signs of severe depression.”
“That can only be fixed by putting him back on the front lines where he belongs. He was bred for combat.”
“I am well aware of that sir, but it’s not even been two weeks since Pincer Squad’s unfortunate destruction,” he retorted, released his irritation. “It was supposed to a simple in-and-out operation, but because of a minor miscalculation we lost two picket ships, their full crews, and the other three members of his squad. Can you even imagine the guilt he feels, being the only survivor?”
The General was clearly taken a back by Akrimon’s strong feelings on the matter. “Don’t even think for a second that I don’t feel the same anger that you do. That disaster and waste of life is not something I’m proud of, but we must move on. There is a war on and I do not intend to let this incident drag down our efforts.”
There was moment when neither man spoke. Finally, Colonel Akrimon broke the silence in apology, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for, General. I am just so tired of the Republic’s methods and attitude toward its soldiers. They may be clones, but they are also men.”
“Regrettably, we have little choice in the matter. I have my own superiors, who want all units available for combat. Unit 1024 can be no exception.”
Again there was silence, until Colonel Akrimon spoke, first measuring up what he was about to ask. “Would you be open to an alternate course in getting him back into the war?”
General Haelstrom eyed the other man curiously. For the first time since he had arrived he showed genuine interest. “Explain…”