The Clone Assassin: A Star Wars Story

An Unexpected Hindrance

The unit set off into the unknown terrain, scouting in pairs.  Blinder paired the cadet with him, and Blade stayed close to her sergeant during the mission.  Stealth was indeed crucial.  Drones and spotlights were everywhere.  The jungle trees provided some cover, but timing the enemies' movements was more difficult than expected.

Still, the unit managed to scout and memorize the terrain, which Blade would later make a holomap of based on their collected data.  They noted every outpost, lookout tower, encampment, entrance, droid scouting pattern, and so forth.  Everything they thought would be useful to General Windu, the clones committed to memory.  This wasn't what they typically did on missions, but they followed through nonetheless.

Finally, when there was nothing left to scout, the clones all made their way back to the cloaked gunship, each pair arriving separately.  Blinder and Blade, however, took the longest.

At the start of the mission, Blade had felt a strange pang in her stomach, close to her pelvis.  She'd ignored it the entire time she scouted with her sergeant, but now, as the mission ended, the simple pang became outright pain.  The young clone clenched her stomach and bit her lip, struggling to stay silent as an ominous, warm liquid soaked her uniform between her legs.

Blinder stopped and turned to her.  "Are you injured?"  He was genuinely concerned.

Blade shook her head, wincing.  "I wasn't shot.  I don't know what's wrong with me."  She bent over, her knees threatening to buckle.  "It hurts."

"We'll find you a medical droid," he said at once, then picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the gunship.

They kept no such droid on the gunship.  Normally, the team medic would take care of any injuries or ailments received during a mission.  If the ailment was too severe, the wounded clone was sent to one of the Republic's medical bases.  But this was no normal circumstance.  The medical bases were run by Kaminoans, and the team medic would have no idea what Blade's ailment was.  None of them would, for that matter.

The sergeant muttered a curse and sprinted toward the ship.  Once aboard, he told the pilot to take a detour.

Acquiring any droid was risky enough, even without the galaxy in turmoil.  Due to the war, medical droids were in short supply.  Most were sent to tend to wounded soldiers and civilians. Others were given to the wealthy as personal physicians.  Clinics on nearly every Republic system were fully booked with patients.  Their best option was to find one discarded and hope that it still worked.

The pilot brought the ship to a remote outpost used mostly by smugglers.  The cadet climbed into her crate, allowing the pilot to open the blast doors and let her unit find a droid.

She waited for at least an hour, clutching her stomach and holding back several groans.  Finally, her unit returned and gave her the all-clear.  Blade opened the lid and climbed out, wincing with each movement.  Then she saw the droid.

It was pretty decrepit, covered in rust and grease.  Parts of it were missing, including an arm and an optical sensor.  Its movements were strained, its joints nearly immobilized by rust.  Yet, as far as she could tell, it still functioned well enough to follow its programmed objective.  Its remaining optical sensor lit up as it turned its head to her.

"Are you my patient?" it asked.

Blade nodded.  "Tell my why I'm bleeding."

The droid innards clicked and hummed as it processed her command, no doubt accessing its database.  Then, after a full minute, it answered.

"You are menstruating."

"What does that mean?" said Blackeye.

"It is a natural occurrence for the females of many species.  Her body is merely dispelling the reproductive circuits she didn't use this month."

The girl's eyes widened in outrage.  "This month?"

"It is a monthly occurrence," the machine said matter-of-factly.

"Then make it stop."

The droid cocked its head, processing.  "I do not understand."

"Make me stop menstruating."

The clone unit looked expectantly at the droid.  The droid was silent, its innards clicking and whirring.  Then, finally, it said:

"There are three methods to accomplish that.  The first is to tie the tubes that connect the ovaries to the uterus.  This surgery will allow the organ to continue functioning, but will prevent future ovulation.  However, you may continue experiencing some of the monthly symptoms."

Blade clutched her stomach again at the mention of symptoms, feeling that unusual wave of pain.  "What are my other options?"

"Either completely remove the uterus, or remove the ovaries."

She thought it over.  "Which has the faster recovery?"

"Removing the ovaries."

"Then do it."

Blinder said, "Blade, are you sure?"

The girl turned to her sergeant, her brow creased, her eyes determined.  "I don't want to be a hindrance to the unit."

The C.O. concurred.  "Al," he said, addressing the unit's medic, "help the droid."

The medic nodded, then turned to the machine.  "We don't have time to find an O.R.  We'll need to perform the surgery now."

The droid said, "That is against my protocol."

Blade, her temper riled by her condition, drew one of her knives and lunged at the droid, stopping with the tip of her blade at its remaining eye.  No one in her unit tried to stop her.  Rather, as she lunged, they aimed their guns at her target.

"That's an order, droid," Sgt. Blinder growled.

The droid whirred and processed.  "Understood."

***

Al performed the surgery, following the droid's instructions displayed via holo-projector.  Blade was on the floor of the gunship, biting into a thick strip of cord, her uniform discarded to keep it out of the way.  Blinder, Blackeye and two others were holding her down.  They had no anesthetics on the ship, nor a means to provide her with nutrients or replenish her lost blood.  But Blade was a Clone Trooper, and she steeled herself to the pain.

The unit kept their helmets on, as per the droid's instructions, and frequently would wipe the sweat and blood from the incision.  Al pulled apart her skin and muscle, revealing the target organ, and snipped the ovaries at the bases of their tubes.  The droid held out a dish, which Al dropped the ovaries onto.  Then the medic used a precision tool to cauterize the new wounds on the uterus.  Following this, he inserted a syringe needle into the uterus and extracted the remaining menstrual blood.  Then the cauterization tool was used to seal the incision, layer by layer, for the laser was faster and more potent than stitches.

When it was done, a tired, trembling, barely conscious Blade was carefully lifted off the floor and placed inside her crate.  One of her older brothers took the cord from her mouth and attached the rebreather to her face, then closed the lid.  At the same time, the others cleaned the ship as best they could.  A few left the ship to burn the ovaries and anything with the girl's blood, including her soiled uniform.  The medical droid was scrapped, its memory bank wiped, and added to the fire.  The clones wiped any trace of blood from their armor and equipment, then burned the cleaning rags they normally used on their weapons.  The pilot reactivated the communications relay and told their superiors that they'd stopped to refuel.

They knew they couldn't take any chances.  Nothing connecting to Blade could remain.

Finally, after a thorough inspection of the ship and the unit, Blinder gave the pilot the all-clear for takeoff.