Soldiers of the Stars

Chapter 29: Clones' Day Off

IXTLAR GALACTIC REPUBLIC BASE - TORNAI CITY

(CT-8628) WEAVE

     Nothing annoyed me more than the piercing scent of the sulfuric, gut-wrenching neo-bactaspray that left a horrid yellow stain on my skin. Every time Fisher applied the formula to my wounds, a wave of nausea added to my misery, and my stomach lurched. The pungent odor trailed me wherever I went. Fisher assured me that no one would notice the smell. So eventually, I no longer concerned myself with it.

     A group of shinies in Bravo threw themselves against the durasteel walls, pinching their noses as I walked with Highbeam back to our barracks.

     "Gas! Gas! Gas!" One of them yelled out, which was followed by a volley of laughter that echoed down the hall. Even Highbeam roared with amusement, a sound so foreign from him that I had to check it wasn't Bob or Mess beside me instead.

     "It wasn't that funny." I scoffed. "Fisher said it was hardly noticeable."

     "The guy who spends all day with his nose to medical horrors beyond imagination?"

     Fair point. No telling how many things Fisher had to stomach compared to the rest of us.

     Still, the chemical smell ferried more unwanted attention. After the events of Falleen, I became a legend aboard the Sacred Mercy. Brothers would stop me in the halls, during physical therapy, and even during dinner to congratulate me on my heroism. At one time, I would've basked in the praise, but now, it only frustrated me. In that desperate moment, I made a choice – a choice I wanted to believe that any of us clones would've made to protect our own.

     Highbeam attempted to conceal a cough. "One shower isn't gonna cut it, and our soap won't do you any good either. It's said tauntaun farmers bathe in tomato–"

     "It won't be a problem if Volt held up his end of our deal." I scrunched my nose. "And I'm not bathing in tomato substances either."

     Highbeam shrugged.

     Our new supply shipments were waiting for us when we landed on Ixtlar, including a resupply of soaps, deodorant, aftershave, and the occasional bottle of cologne. COs always got the first pick. I talked Volt into snagging Bob and me some of the better options. He kindly obliged, in return for a favor he could call upon at any given moment. Bob would appreciate something beyond the standard soap. He remained distant since I declined my promotion. The soap could be a peace offering. And for me, an answered prayer.

     I missed him.

     Bob hardly talked to me these past few rotations, ate by himself, and went as far as going to bed earlier. This sudden change took all of Indigo by surprise, yet none of us had dared to ask what troubled him. Talking to him would be the obvious solution, but I found the objective burdensome. Everytime I opened my mouth, I could only think of him and Shifty dragging me onto the shuttle half-alive or the painful silence that followed when I informed him that I refused ARC training. Nothing had been right since then. It briefly occurred to me that his behavior correlated with the shock from my near death. Back on Mygeeto, I thought he died. Once I was too prideful to admit it, but losing him would destroy me. Maybe he had to deal with that notion in his way, but I needed my brother back.

     I shook the thought from my head as I entered the barracks.

     "Did something die? Or is that just Weave?" Shifty smirked as a way of greeting without peeling his eyes from the sabacc deck he shuffled.

     Topknot rubbed his nose, "Nah, he tried that already. Didn't work for you, did it, Vod?"

     I ignored him as I scanned the room. Typical. "Where's Bob?"