Stand For the 989th (A story of the Clone War's last days.)

The Spacers Awaken

Quad and the others retrieved the droid cart and returned sunken hearted to their camp, all of them embittered for their fallen traitorous friend. As they closed in on the camp, everyone was stirred up about something.

"What's going on back here?" Blitz asked.

"We figured out what drove Charlie wacko! It was a chip in his brain that got damaged! It responded to the command of that Order 66 that we failed to receive!" the medic reported.

"So, he wasn't a traitor after all?" Quad piped up, not hiding the tears of hopeful joy streaming down his cheeks.

"Well, by the rule of mental illness, I guess technically he wasn't."

"Oh, thank the Force!" Quad exclaimed.

"However, we must not focus on that now," General Ti said, walking slowly towards them, a large gauze bandage around her torso, "the "Empire's" forces will be here shortly, and we must formulate a strategy for defeating them."

"How are we coming on the hired help from cantinas?" Gremlin inquired.

"We haven't started that objective yet. However, we are recruiting locals to help build barricades for us, as well as prepare a medic tent to accompany the diner we are currently occupying."

"How's Beta?" Quad asked, the question no one wanted to dare ask.

"He's in critical condition. He won't be able to fight, but soon he will be stable enough. We will have to figure out what to do with the others like him before the war comes here."

"Are we worried we are rushing into this? Agreeing to fight our brothers?" Quad asked the Jedi.

"I can't speak for you, trooper, but I know one thing; sometimes, we just have to rush into things. The universe doesn't always give us time to think life over," she responded.

"I agree with the General," Gremlin announced.

"Well said, Master Jedi," Quad responded, shaking Ti's hand.

"Thank you for your support, Quad. Now, we really need to rally any bounty hunters who would be willing to assist us in our endeavor. Could you take some cadets and look for mercenaries?"

"Sure thing, General," Quad said, saluting. "Blitz, come with me."

"You bet, Quad," Blitz smiled. Then he put on his helmet, and the two clones headed for the cantina district.

...
The first bars offered no help. After about an hour of searching, Quad and Blitz were ready to give up. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Quad spied the two Ithorians from
before arguing with a refueling droid.

"There. Let's ask them."

"What makes you think they'll help? The one seemed pretty smitten with this new Empire," Blitz remarked.

"Please. They're low lives. They'll turn on anyone- for the right price," Quad barked smugly. They approached the Ithorians.

"What'd'ya mean not enough credits?" Dred was shouting, "ya said gas was fitteen thousand! Well, har's fitteen thousand fer ya!"

"I'm terribly sorry, sirs, but my master has increased the price to forty five thousand, since the change in Galactic government will send the whole economy off balance for a few weeks," the droid nervously apologized.

"Huh? It will? How's he know? We haven't had a change in 'Galactic government' fer a thousand years!" Dred shouted back.

"Would you like it if I went and retrieved my master for you?" the droid cooly offered.