You wake up with a loud grunt, and to a white light blinding your sight for a couple of seconds. You can hear the distinct sound of explosions and blaster fire far away, yet still nearby. You rise up from the bed you awoke on, taking in the familiar room you're in. It looks like a hospital room, but not a Republic one that you're used to. It's small, with a messy bed, a chair, a reinforced mirror, and a steel door occupying it. A quick look in the mirror reveals a stranger to you. You're wearing white medical clothes and your armor and equipment is nowhere to be found. You have grown a beard and the bolt in your jaw has been removed, leaving a scar behind. Bits and pieces are slowly coming back to your now drug-free mind; you and Joker were captured, brought to an unknown location and since then you've endured countless tests and torture. Evidently you don't remember everything because you're still surprised when you look down to find your lower left arm missing and a red cybernetic replacement there in its stead. Holding it up to face-level, you move each mechanical finger individually and then you close it to a fist. What have they done to you? What happened to your fellow brother? The sound of blaster fire, skirmishes and explosions are finally reaching you once more as you get a grip on your situation. Your senses have been dulled by drugs for too long. It's time to leave this place.
[2/2] Your legs feel like jelly when you slowly make your way towards the door. "It's locked." You mutter out loud to yourself. The panel to the left of the door is offline. Had it been online, you could have possibly done a poor-man's slicing job, but this is the time for drastic measures. With what strength you have in your arm, you smash your new cybernetic arm straight into the panel. You pull out the coloured cords from its insides and rip them off. The metal door opens slightly ajar, and eventually you successfully open the door with sheer arm strength. Strength is slowly starting to return to your legs as well when you take a few steps into the corridor. The screams, blaster fire, and explosions are louder out here and the distinct smell of smoke and fire is in the air. To the left you spot a blastzone filled with corpses wearing GAR's designated clone trooper equipment, but whether or not they are real clones or the androids looking like your brothers, you can't tell. At the end of the corridor a clone is sitting hunched over against a wall. He's still moving somewhat. You throw a glance to your right and at the end of the hallway you spot a skirmish between two squads of clone troopers firing at each other.
Your attention shifts back to the lone clone and with heavy steps, you make your way down the hallway. You can't afford to get involved in a skirmish right now. You could pick a weapon, but without your armor, the first shot would be fatal, bacta or no bacta. However, on the way to the lone clone you make sure to pick up one of the rifles lying about. You rip it out of the dead soldier's cold fingers and quickly check for malfunctions as your easy pace closes the distance between you and the end of the corridor. It's a DC-15A blaster rifle from the looks of it and it's working properly. You hold it up at face-level, aiming it straight at the clone. He let's out a cough, trying to stand up, only to fall down on his bum again, giving up on his futile attempt to rise.
"Identify yourself, soldier." You call out, aiming the rifle straight at the chest of the trooper. Two shots and he'd be dead. Two clicks on the trigger, half a second for each. He looks up at you and pulls off his helmet. You see blood trickling down his forehead and the familiar face of one of your brothers.
"Bulletproof's the name, sir. Didn't think we'd find you alive, Commander." The clone trooper sighs and then grunts in pain when he tries to get up and fails. You lower your weapon and help the wounded soldier up on his legs again. He supports himself on your shoulder while he tries to get feeling back into his legs and feet again.
[1/2]
Aiden Reed
[2/2]
"How many are you and how did you find this place?" Your gaze returns to the skirmish at the other end of the hallway. It's over, but you can't tell which side won. Your grip on the rifle tightens, ready to raise it at any second.
"The general sent in 3 regiments and a Commando squad into the station to clear it out and rescue you. We've lost contact with Delta Squad and half of the 304's regiment, but so far we've made good ground into the station." Bulletproof mutters under his breath before he finally removes himself from your shoulder to stand on both legs on his own, "We got a distress signal from this location with Sierra Squad's security code, so that's how we found this station."
Hudson King
You nod at him with a grim, expressionless look. Maybe Joker was the one to send out the distress call, but if he did, he’s in deep shit now. The CIS will track it all the same, be it aboard this station or in a nearby system. Whatever question’s on your mind will have to wait. Your teammate takes priority. If he was the one to send the call out, he ought to be in the upper levels of the station, where most communications rooms are built into space-faring complexes such as these.
With Bulletproof’s arm steadily set over your neck and shoulders, supporting him along the way, you set out to not only find Joker as fast as possible, but also another squad of clones to hand this wounded soldier over. You can’t go carrying him about forever. It’ll just slow you down. He whinces in pain now and then, but he keeps his mouth shut all the same.
After passing through several white-clad corridors and skirmishes off to the sides, you eventually run into a squad of clones standing firm at the end of the hallway, their attention divided among themselves and what’s in the corridor around the corner.
They are seemingly engrossed in a conversation, both in and out of comm. You don’t have your helmet, so you can’t exactly try to tap into their communications. Even then, you’d prefer it if Joker was here to help you do it.
Xavier Morris
“Do you recognize any of them?” You throw a gaze over at where Bulletproof is hanging onto you as best he can. His breathing is ragged. One of his wounds must be tearing up slowly. He needs medical attention soon, before bacta is too late to heal the muscle tissues and the wound. If you have to guess, there’s only a small window of time left.
“How should… How should I know?” He musters forth through a quiet fit of coughing. “They don’t got any markings on ‘em, but that can be said for a lot of the clones in the three regiments that stormed the station.” He mutters. Then it dawns on you past the exhaustion and your alarmed mind; Bulletproof’s helmet is still intact. Hopefully it can pick up local communications, if nothing else. As you put it on and activate the local comm channels, a couple of voices waves light up across the inner HUD.
“--teen of them. We don’t have the numbers on our side, Captain.” An uncertain voice is the first thing you hear through the helmet atop your head. It’s not as comfortable as your Commando helmet and has far less utilized and a more simple and redundant HUD-system. It’s only a minor annoyance though.
“We have the element of surprise on our side. Numbers doesn’t matter if we strike first.” A more authoritative voice replies, silencing the first complaint, only to be stonewalled by the third voice.
“Even if we strike first, we’re out of grenades, ammo is running low, and if there’s more clankers in the corridor after this one, we’re screwed. I suggest we double back and resume the search from the secondary route, as we planned from the start, Captain.”
They sure as hell don’t sound like any clones and they’re facing off against droids. Could this be your saving grace? Only one way to be absolutely certain. With your blaster rifle raised at them, you call out through the helmet’s local comm.
[1/3]
Anthony Nguyen
“ID-Code 2337-09, We live…” You immediately catch the attention of the Captain as he spins his head about, staring in your direction.
“...And die as Brothers. ID-Code 7992-12” He replies and a green light flashes in the top left corner of your HUD. ID-code checks out and he knew what to say. There’s no doubt in your mind anymore; these clones are with the GAR and your brothers. Lowering your rifle, you make your way over to them. Two clones are ordered to fetch Bulletproof as their Captain joins them in their march to meet you.
“Commander, it’s good to see you alive. We were hoping to find you, but it seems you found us instead.” The two of you shake hands after he’s done saluting you upon being told to be at ease.
“Status report.” You sound off and the Captain sighs audibly.
“We got split from our regiment when the clankers came down on us from the ventilation systems. We were scouring the lower regions of the station in hopes of finding you, Commander. We and half of our regiment. The other half is no doubt split between skirmishes all across the complex and further up they’re no doubt searching for the other team member of Sierra Squad.”
“Do you know if they’ve checked the Communications room?”
“No idea, sir. Our long range communication channel was cut off and we haven’t been able to establish and link up a new one yet. Our Communications officer took a blaster shot in his throat during the ambush.”
[2/3]
Luis Powell
[3/3]
Your eyes narrow at the severity of the situation. You either need to find a way to link up the comm channels with the upper regiments or go find Joker on your own. You remind yourself of something crucial before making any real decisions.
“Bulletproof, the soldier with me, needs bacta treatment immediately.” Motioning to the clone who’s now sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall again.
“We lost our package of bacta when we got caught up in a skirmish just a few moments ago. Your best hope is to scavenge anyone you find if you double back or if you help us push through the fifteen clankers up ahead - I got a good feeling there’s another two squads past them.”
>Help them push through the clankers. >Double back to find bacta first for Bulletproof. >Leave them. You need to find Joker, ASAP. >Write-in.
Eli Watson
Hey, Whiskey, not sure if you noticed, but apparently, the mods are forcing the whole /qst/ thing now. They're going to be deleting any quest threads they see here on Veeky Forums, so, uh, you might want to move to /qst/ before you get too far into this session because you don't want to lose all the story progression in this thread due to a deletion.
Not trying to piss you off or anything, just letting you know as a player of quests that doesn't like to see other quests lose their stories.
Sebastian Morris
>>Help them push through the clankers.
Ryder Sullivan
Oh don't worry, my fellow quester.
I know and I'm not going anywhere.
Mason Baker
You have to go back.
Elijah Murphy
Okay, just letting you know. Good luck and may the dice bless your players!
Aiden Brown
Enjoy getting banned and wasting your, dumb faggot.
Jonathan Powell
...
Aiden Miller
>Caring about the mods
Luis Thompson
You're back? That's awesome, dude. I lost track when your previous twitter account got deleted. As the other user said, our dear mods seem to have changed their minds again, so a sword hangs over the thread.
>>Help them push through the clankers.
Colton Jones
>die of AIDS
Tyler Murphy
No need to go full self-insert, user
Dominic Myers
Getting food real quick. Calling the vote when I get back. Hopefully the thread is still up by then.
Cheers!
Aaron Nelson
This takes a special kind of autism. But so does questing.
Dylan Bell
>Help them push through the clankers. Move move move
Jaxon Lee
>tripfag >reddit meme pictures
Easton Jenkins
>>Help them push through the clankers
Jonathan Ross
OP, please, just don't respond to the people telling you to go to /qst/.
Just DON'T feed them, please.
Jaxon Rivera
Whiskey you drunk son of bitch
Leave again and I'll eat your goddamn heart welcome back you Bastard
