{ E } xecution ; a republic commando based story ; written by Fang ; (not finnished!)

it was dark. or, at least, it was nearing the later hours and beginnings or night; the dying light streaked across Coruscant's sky. dark red-orange colors and lighter yellow orange hues dyed the sky in a sunset, casting dark shadows that were crooked and disturbed about. the golden and reddish light cast a faint glow to the Katarn armour two lone figures wore. both stood shoulder to shoulder, the exact same hieght, and even odder, they were exactly identical. the same shade of brown eyes scanned the Coruscanti's activity below. the gray and dark gray webbing was strikingly well in contrast with the aglow buildings behind them, the glass windows set aflame by the sunset's glow. the two figures resumed watching the active movement below, before one of them unhooked a dark gray helmet from his belt, which had an assortment of knives and defensive weapons in it. with a faint hissing sound that an closed airtight lock would make, he put the helmet on, switching the comlink modes so his fellow brother could hear him. "we'll have to move out soon . . . with dark falling, we can atl least jave more cover." his comrade turned his head slightly, looking at his brother. the second paused before he, too, put his helmet, or "bucket" as most refered to it as, on as well. "might as well get a move on, ner'vod."

There was a pause as the two clone troopers paused before both raised a hand in unison, pressed the index and middle finger's tips to the side of their helmets. nothing outwardly happened, but the external comlink switched, flicking onto their internal comlinks. the outside world couldn't hear anything they said, nor could they see the faces behind the faintly glowing T visor. citizens always thought that clones were just droids, only with flesh. they were all wrong -- every clone that had ever been created from fresh Jango Fett genes was human.

the Republic didn't see it that way -- they simply thoughts clones were just their "weapons of war", and were just simple tins. sometimes a clone or a clone commando was labeled as "government property." they weren't even human in many eyes.

there was a faint, almost sigh that passed through the first figure's helmet, and a moment later he and his fellow comrade brother simply walked smoothly yet quickly down the steps. as they exited the shop of which's roof they'd been standing on a few minutes before, hiding from keen eyes, the first one spoke. "we've got to move if we want to escape . . . we can't waste time, and the moment we find the starboard ship that's waiting, the sooner we can make a clean get away... then we're cuy'val dar . . ." he paused, smiling inside his helment for a moment. Cuy'val Dar, meaning "those who no longer exist," in the mando'a language. he chuckled softly to himself as he strode down the sidewalk at a calm pace beside his brother. they kept their pace easy, not wanting to rush, because then it would conjure up suspicion from the civilians. the second figure gave an eye roll at his brother, grateful that his brother could only see what his HUD displayed rather than his face. "Bantov, Udesii . . . we've gone over this many times, and I doubt I need a re-run!" at that, the one that was apparently called Bantov, also known as ARC Trooper three-two, snorted before uttering a light chortle. being owned up to his name ( which meant "stubborn" ), he jokingly rebelled. "there's no harm in drilling it into your head on more time, now is there, vode?" the second fell silent as Bantov's reply, giving a second eyeroll as his brother playfully punched him in the shoulder plate, creating a faint clap! as his knuckles razors against the hard, smooth surface of his shoulder's armor plate. he ended up giving a small smile. stubborn Bantov was, but he could almost always cheer someone up.

they had been walking for what could have been minutes, to hours, or even forever, but the actual time had only passed by several minutes, give or take a few, when his brother suddenly gripped his forearm, squeezing slightly. "Trantos . . . we're going to have to steal a speeder." at that, Trantos uttered a laugh, which flowed between their shared comlink. his armor shifted slightly as he let his laugh die before his helmet moved slightly, and an outsider would think he was glancing at his brother when he really had turned his head and was looking fully at Bantov. "what'd you expect? it's not like we're sur-unit clone troopers -- we're Advanced Recon Commandos!" his brother took the moment to snot before he glanced around, helment unmoving. the ARC Trooper simply broke stride from his brother, cutting across his path. he glanced around before smoothly striding up to a random speeder that was settled, floating in hover mode a few inches off the ground. coolly, he swung a leg over and settled on, leaning back slightly like he found this as a simple cruise ride. he clicked his back teeth, checking on the main comlink; he got static. Alpha ten-three-one had better be watching our backs . . . it's too dangerous out here in the middle of millions of Coruscanti civilians, and we can't risk anything right now, he thought before clicking his molars, flicking back to his comrade's internal link. he could see his brother's HUD screen -- Trantos was leaning against a streetlamp pole about ten feet back, acting like a normal civilian that was waiting for a lift. his helmet was facing in his direction, but three-eight's HUD screen showed he was gazing longingly into a nearby cáfe.

"Alpha three-eight, pay attention before you bomb our plan! there's a Twi-Lek headed towards a free ride a few feet in front of you... run into them on purpose while looking the other way... you can high-jack the speeder when they're not looking . . . move it!" the moment he snapped at his brother, instantly Trantos's HUD screen flickered and he was looking sharply with his narrowed vision towards him. with a sharp reply of "got it," three-eight began to stride at a slow but relivsnt pace towards a dark blue skinned Twi-lek, who was fiddling with credits that shifted in the dark blue skinned hand. as the civilian slowed and paused, reaching with an empty hand to untie a small pouch that rattled slightly with the sound of credits, Trantos strode up, helmet tucked under one arm, his head turned away from the stranger. purposefully, as Bantov had instructed him, he ran into the distracted civilian. with a surprised cry of false surprise, trantos stumbled back, running into the speeder that the Twi-lek seemed to have been about to get on. instantly the ARC trooper began to gush out , acting to be flustered. good thing Trantos could act, because the civilian fell for it. Trantos pointed across the street, mouth moving and the civilian shook her head, that pale blue hair floating as she did so. Trantos said something else and she turned halfway, her head turning to where she couldn't see the ARC trooper. while she pointed a little further down the skylane, his brother fleetingly slipped a handful of credits into her hand. by the time she had turned around with a jolt of surprise, the ARC troopers were just vanishing into a blurred long lane of daily Coruscant civilians. startled, she looked down at the credits that threatened to spill over and out of her hands, mouth parted to gape in bewilderment as the reward she had so unexpectedly been given, yet a moment later a mask of rage came to her face as she glared after the long gone troopers that had vanished, angered for the their of her righteous speeder.

helmet back on, Trantos flew through the speed lines behind his brother, a shout of joy loudly ringing through their comlink. "and that's how the ARC Troopers rob an innocent civilian of their speeder!" Bantov chuckled as his brother fell quiet, obvious amused. there fell a silence and the comlink fell into it's faint crackling again. the sun had few rays left out by the time the comlink crackled to life again. Bantov's voice came on the comlink, excitement coloring his tone. "we're almost there, brother . . ." he only got a hunt in reply. ahead, a well lot platform could be seen. it was their freedom from the Republic, from the honorless life, from the binding laws that tied them to the Republic. within minutes they had reached the platform, and the ARC Troopers slowed the speeders. thumbing the idle switch, Bantov slid off the speeder and looked around the platform to find . . . nobody there. there was no ship, there was no rogue ARCs. there was nothing.

a dark gloved hand laid on his shoulder. he didn't seem to notice his brother. he stared, mouth parted in horrified astonishment. he heard Trantos saying something, but he heard nothing but defining silence. the real world was muffled to him. slowly, his face twisted. the world faded back to him, and he distantly heard Trantos speaking -- he brother sounded scared ( but only slightly ), because everyone knew that an angered or upset ARC was no good at all. "Bant'ika . . . ? you okay?" his brother had begun to squeeze his shoulder hard, yet he didn't feel his plates grinding against his shoulder painfully as he took a single step forward. instantly he stumbled, and nearly tumbled to the floor. firm and strong gloved hands exactly like his own gripped him, hauling him back to his feet. before he couldn't stop himself, Bantov turned around and suddenly hugged his brother so fiercely that Trantos froze in surprise. there was a loud clamp! as their gray armour plates cracked together. he crushed his brother to him, brown eyes shut tightly. his breath came shallow and slowly, yet it was edged. he felt the rythemic thump that slowly patted on his back armor plates. after staying like that a moment longer, he realize. his brother had a sad look on his face. "Tran . . ." he whispered, staring, dismayed, at his brothers face. "they lied . . . they left us!" he cried out his last words, his voice nearly cracking, yet strain was in his voice. he half turned, looking out at the untouched platform. they had been too late.

they stood there in silence, and they still stood there in the well lit platform's lights even after the sun had sank low. finally, Bantov turned. "let's go, brother . . . we'll find another way . . ." he had only moved a few feet towards the speeder when suddenly something rebounded off, only clipping the armor above the exposed webbing that covered his ribs. he heard the sound of his brother's viroblade behind him, and a moment later he crouched, one knee up, the other on the ground. he crouched in a low-pofile position, his rifle aimed at the darkness. he had moved so fast that he hadn't realized he'd gotten his helmet on. but adrenaline did that to you -- time felt like hours as the brother crouched there, back to back, high voltage Deece rifles aimed into the darkness. only seconds had passed before suddenly blaster flares from two points appeared. instantly both ARCs fired at the moving shadows they could see. Bantov looked at his HUD screen and rapidly blinked threes times, activating his night vision. both brothers shouted over the blasterfire that they could hear through their helmets. Trantos was shouting rapidly. "i'm going to give them a little excitement . . . you got a grenade?"
"here!" Bantov rolled a tiny sphere object into his brother's leg. he didn't see Trantos get it, but he heard the loud shout over their comlink. "GET DOWN, NOW!"
instantly, both ARCs flattened to the platform, looking like they were doing push-ups, but their legs were bent slightly to the knees. both tucked their heads low as the swiftly crawled before pushing off hard with their feet, leaping up into a run. hard training paid off; they'd gotten to the three quarter mark of the platform within less than ten seconds. both fell forward from the blast of force behind them. the two were thrown into nearby buildings or hurtled to the ground painfully. once the blast had just about died, they lunged to their feet, and made a run for it. neither felt pain -- adrenaline dulled all that until all that cold, spiky energy died.

just keep running. Trantos is right beside you.

a Verpine shatter gun was fired, and suddenly a scream shattered the buzzing silence of the comlink. Bantov clutched at the side of his leg, a line of Mando'a curses pouring from his mouth. his brother turned at the cry and made a lunge for his wounded brother. his brother had a hand pressing to his side, and he could hear every pained gasp, rattled breath, and occasional curse in Mandalorian. he caught his brother just before he fell, and quickly dragged him into a shelter place, panicing. the silent Verpine flares that kept flaring up slowed and stopped. there was silence. a choking feeling rose up in his as he gently leaned a bleeding Bantov against a metal wall. he took hold of his brother's helmet and pulled it off with a faint hiss of releasing air. his brother was breathing shallowly, and panic tighten it's steel grip on him. gently, like a father would to a son, he put his hand against his brother's cheek before tapping his comrade. "brother? Bantov?" his voice was so very soft that it was whispered, and fear was in his eyes. for a moment, Trantos wanted to hit himself as a lump of emotion welled up in his throat. his brother was all he had. losing him meant losing his will to live. the thought brought a few clear tears to his eyes, but he blinked hard, forcing them to go away. his voice cracking slightly, he spoke again. "Vod, speak to me . . . please!"

it's all my fault if he dies. maybe had I slowed down and waited for him, we might actually be speeding away from this place, leaving behind Coruscant . . . oh, Bantov! live for me, vod'ika!

beneath his gloved hand, he felt his brother clench and unclenching his jaw, and instantly he knew his brother was in pain. guilt stabbed him -- it was his fault, all of this, he'd been the one who had told him that they should leave the cruel Republic, he'd been the one to say that's they'd escape easily, he'd been the one that dragged his own beloved brother into this. voice slightly hoarse, he whispered again, "Bant? . . . I'm so sorry, brother . . . you okay?" identical brown eyes flicked open and Bantov peered feebily back at his brother, and most astonishingly, he smiled slightly. Trantos handed him his helmet, but he seemed to rethink it; he lightly took his brother's helmet back and put the helmet on for him. his tense fear was clear by his edged breathing as he slipped his brothers helmet on before stopping, awaiting an answer. he could hear the smile in the croaked reply as his comrade replied, voice still edged by the pain from the Verpine bullet round embedded in his side. "I'm still alive, brother . . ." the was a pause, and Trantos could so clearly picture the smile spreading across his brother's face as he added on as an attempt for a joking afterthought, "just barely."

a sigh of relief left him, and he relaxed before carefully leaning toward his brother. his left gloved hand gently grabbed his brother's hand that was pressed to his side. gently, he moved the hand and Bantov let him. he examined the wound before carefully releasing his brother's wrist. immediately, Bantov applied pressure again to the still weeping wound. Trantos sighed and softly spoke, guilt in his voice. "i'm sorry brother . . . but I don't have the field first-aid that we normally have . . . that's my fault brother, i should have no been so foolish and put it aside like it was nothing . . ." at that, he heard his brother snort as with the hand that wasn't pressed to his wound, he tried to pick up his rifle. "mistakes happen . . . i don't think I can aim with my rifle though, mate . . ." dismay twisted Trantos's stomach at the mentioning to this, but he only sighed as he slowly moved into a crawling position and as he crawled to the edge of their cover, he spoke over their internal comlink. "i'm gonna give us one last shot . . ." and with that he crouched, Amarillo under protection, and raised his rifle. and he aimed, and fired straight up at the sky. that shot alone said one thing : that he was surrendering.


{ will write more later! }