The Lie (Captain Rex)

(I) - A Gelid First

(Part I.)

"Attention all troopers! We are now approaching Pantora's atmosphere."

The hulls of the cargo ship rattled, sending a shudder of discomfort through you. You clutched the handle on the roof a little tighter. It was pretty narrow in this space; you were flush against the wall with at least twenty other clone troopers crammed closely together in the hold. Why so many clones were needed to survey unspecified cargo was beyond you. Putting aside the fact that you were a Padawan yourself, of course.

Red light filled the hold and glinted off all the clones' armour, signaling that they were to land soon. A sharp voice that must have been the pilot crackled across the P.A. system: "All forces hold tight. We are banking left to ensure landing protocol Number 54; brace for turbulence."

The hulls creaked ominously again. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, watching your breath turn to steam on the freezing air. You turned to the nearest trooper. "Are we sure that this ship is- uh, stable?"

He paused and did a double take before realizing you were talking to him. "Wha- ?? Oh! The ship?" One hand strayed to scratch the side of his neck apprehensively. "Why, of course it is. Wait, what exactly do you mean by 'stable'?"

You coughed pointedly, feeling the fur around the hood of your jacket brush your face. "Uh, you know- In working order. What I meant to say was like, how old is this thing? Is it meant to be falling apart at the seams, or not-"

You hadn't meant it passive-aggressively at all; you were asking a genuine question, yet this seemed to affront the trooper. His grip on the handle shifted slightly as his brows furrowed.

"Well, of course it is! They wouldn't put us into something that would kill us, would they? It'd be a waste of forces to take that risk. They need us clones!"

He was somewhat new by the looks of his armor. A 'shiny', as the other clones would say. It wasn't painted or very scratched. You could only assume that this poor man would later find out just how the Republic treated their troops. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him that, most likely, they wouldn't want to risk your life. Still the ship continued to creak and groan metallically.

The voice droned on over the P.A.: "Approaching the ground at mark 3.4 12.6; all troopers brace for landing." All the troopers held on tighter simultaneously, and the red light shone bright in your eyes. The metal screeching only seemed to get louder, and the hold rattled more and more as the seconds ticked by. Your heart was pounding, a cold sweat on your palms. Eyes wide and alert. Breathing hard through your nose.

A different clone from before seemed to notice your apprehension. "What's got you so tense, kid? First time riding a ship piloted by Hawk?" he said, giving you a friendly grin. He was 501st with a shoulder plating on his armour, and strangely blond cropped hair.

You hesitated, before deciding to tell him the truth. "If I'm being completely honest, this is my, uh- first time on a deployment ship since I was initiated into the Jedi Order. It's my first mission sendoff since I became a Padawan." You coughed  into your fist as though it would alleviate the embarrassment.

The trooper listened intensely, with eyes wide. "Wait. First time? First time ever?" He looked away and his brows knitted, thoughtful as though trying to imagine never having been on a starship before. After a moment, he met your gaze again. "Oh. Wow, I... I really don't know what to say to that," he said sincerely.

"You don't, uh, have to say anything," you quickly said. Partially you were lying; in fact, you were a very experienced pilot. "I guess it just means I feel less adequate than all these other- these other guys." You avoided his gaze.

"Awe you, don't say that!" he grinned and punched your shoulder good-naturedly. He probably hadn't meant it, but the punch was strong enough to send you off-balance, making you grab the wall to steady yourself. "Hah, there's a first time for everything, kid, and I  say that it's better to start new than never start at all. If anything happens, we have your back. After all, that's what we're here for. Right, boys?"

A few troopers feigned assent, although for the most part, morale felt low. You didn't blame them. You, of all people, were not worth fighting for.

A gale of wind cut into the hold, biting at your exposed face. Without warning, the doors opened to reveal the surface of an icy planet drawing nearer and nearer. The ship was now within seconds of landing; the doors open and ready to deploy the men. The sight of the steep, fathomless drop sent a wave of trepidation through your body, and you stumbled back against the wall with your eyes shut tight and your grip on the handles white-knuckled. It was embarrassing, it was childish, unprofessional; but presently you couldn't think of anything but the panic in your blood and the nausea in your gut. Doubtless that you were destroying your reputation from the start. But you needed to hold on. Terror gripped your mind in a vice.

You felt warmth close around your other hand and looked down to see that same trooper holding your hand comfortingly. He was still staring straight ahead into the door, maintaining propriety; but when he spoke, it was directed at you.

"Rest easy, we're almost there... just hold on tight," he murmured. "I promise it gets easier after the first time."

You shut your eyes slowly, trying to ease your breathing and focus on his words. You didn't quite know him or why he was doing this, but you did know that, at their core, the clones were derived from a kindhearted man, so the behavior wasn't necessarily irrational. "Thanks for-"

A loud beep from the speakers. "BRACE! BRACE!"

A CRRRASHHH that dragged on in a series of metal groaning and sparks flying from below the ship. Oh, dear.

Everyone shook with the rattling and clanking of the ship as the impact continued, slowing to a halt. The pilot started repeating the coordinates and mission over the P.A., and you slowly, reluctantly opened your eyes. Is- is it over? That was it?

You suddenly became aware that you were still clutching the man's hand. He also seemed to realize this, and you both jerked your hands away at the same time with embarrassment.

"So, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked.

You paused before responding. "Well, no. Are you also a rookie? This battalion's only recently cropped up, and you look a little too fresh out of Kamino to be a captain."

Vaguely you became aware of other clones gearing up and putting their snow helmets on in the background. "Ah, not quite. You could certainly say I'm new, but, heh-," he put his helmet on, and his next words were crackly through the filter. "-make no mistake, I'm no shiny."

"Oh. Well, that renders me alone, I suppose," you murmured whilst strapping on your supplies pack, a few bits of shoulder armour, and, finally, your lightsaber. It wasn't likely that you'd be forced to use it; and you certainly didn't think you were likely to defeat anything with it as much as you were to hurt yourself by mistake. It was, in short, a drastic measure. And those were often reserved for drastic times. "My name's Y/N Moonildt."

"That's an odd last name," he commented.

"It's a family thing," you responded almost automatically. "What're you called?"

"CT-7567, reporting for duty," he said, saluting. Troopers were now exiting the ship into the cold. "I go by Rex, though. See you around, kid!" he yelled as he dropped out into the snow. 'Kid'? It's unlikely that he's any chronologically older than I am.

Oh, well. You hugged the soft hood of your coat closer, before running outside yourself, where you were met with a howling snowstorm. You hated to think just how lowly your regiment must think of your inexperienced, childish, fearful conduct.
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