Star Wars: The Clone War Chronicles/ Chapter 5: A Large Machine

21 BBY

Character: Captain Crane

In a modest apartment buried within the quaintest vein of Coruscant, a man sat quietly at his desk cleaning his weapon: a grey 300 Winchester Magnum. He hummed a tune quietly to himself, occasionally turning to glance at several medals of commendation he'd arranged in a tight row on the wall above the desk. He spoke aloud, seemingly to no one.

"My father was a soldier, then a military police officer. His father was an officer. And his father before him all three, and a war hero. My plot seemed to be laid out for me long before I was born."

He carefully slid the bolt into the barrel shaft, keeping it flush with the trigger guard, then took an oiled towel to polish the surfaces as one.

"The women in my family were all military spouses, so accustomed to uncertainty, though deliberate in motion. It was an anomaly: orders could upheave their houses in an instant; death was always a constant fear; war seemed perpetually iminent. Yet, these women were unflappable, and meticulous in their planning. Tomorrow wasn't guaranteed to any of them yet their families had rigid plans sketched out for sunrises unseen stretching towards infinity."

From another room, a faint clicking was heard, followed by a whirring of finely oiled motors. Crane turned his head slightly to his right, then moved from the polish towel to affixing the wooden stock to his firearm.

"My mother in particular was a firecracker. She understood what military life meant; that uncertainty, but she knew our tomorrows would echo from today, so she held us accountable for every moment. And love..."

The faint whirring grew somewhat louder, though not intensely. It filled the air softly, as if complementing it.

"Love was her most plentiful commodity. She doled it out like cookies. In case tomorrow didn't come, we'd leave before it knowing we were loved today. In fact, it was the last thing she said to me before she closed her eyes forever."

The whirring noises multiplied, as though several servo motors were coming online simultaneously. A rustling against the wall confirmed a flurry of movement. Crane delicately selected the firing pin and hammer from the mechanisms lying before him on the desk and took to inserting them in the nearly completed weapon.

"I realize when I said 'stretching towards infinity' I opened a bit of logic loop for humanity. We can't quite grasp infinity, but we can't imagine a finite timeline, either. I know when I close my eyes forever it won't truly be forever because a tomorrow will exist. One without me. If our concept of reality is a painting on the wall, what is the wall? What is the building in which it is housed? Are there other paintings? I think about these things sometimes."

A loud thump shook the floor, followed by a ringing silence.

"I know that though my mother is gone, there was a tomorrow, another painting, another way of living. That nothing can truly end. It's all that gives me comfort when I consider the circumstances."

A second thump reverberated from the other room, and the sound of many items clanging to the floor. Crane snapped the final pin in place on his weapon, then deliberately took to sliding bullets into the finely oiled machine.

"Droids, led by the Separatists, descended upon my homeworld. To be honest, I don't even remember what it was called. I said 'was' because that place doesn't exist anymore. Droids, emotionless machines of murder, combed its surface and eradicated everything. I don't even remember the color of her eyes anymore; I only see them draining to a lifeless grey as she told me she loved me. Me. A Republic Soldier, whose only job was to see that levels of genocide like that don't happen. A failure. And she loved me."

The stomps grew louder, and from a small octagonal mirror affixed to the wall Crane saw the B2 Super Battle Droid enter the room behind him.

"I destroyed them. Destroyed them all. It felt like nothing. No vengeance, no justice. I might as well have been smashing guns; stabbing cancer. I had hoped destroying them would make me feel better, but it meant nothing to them so it meant nothing to me. Like I was a machine, too."

The hulking blue steel cannon of its left arm raised to Crane's head as the lights indicating its communications system had come online illuminated. *Hold it right there, enemy*

Crane flitted his fingers behind him and calmly issued the words "Stand down."

The B2 Super Battle Droid lowered its weapon and audibly powered down its offensive systems. It stood stock still on the floor of his apartment, its inner working humming softly.

"I took few souvenirs from the battlefield. Ever, really. But in the wake of that genocide I wondered what my legacy had been or might still be. If there still is a tomorrow, what is Crane?"

Crane finished wiping the outside of his weapon down, then chambered a round. He stood swiftly and turned to face the Battle Droid.

"Respond, What is Crane?"

* Crane: A large machine used to lift heavy objects*

"A large machine? Hmm." Crane leaned in to tweak one of the dials on the droid's clavicle-fuselage.

"Directives."

* Destroy enemy. Preserve functionality.*

"That's right. 'Preserve functionality'. That means protect yourself. Don't be a bullet sponge. Stay alive so you can keep fighting."

* Preserve functionality*

Crane stepped back to get a full view of the droid. He examined its weapons, then his own, then took two steps further back. He laid his weapon at his side, perfectly parallel with his leg. He breathed slowly, then shouted "Attack!"

The B2 Super Battle Droid roared to life, lifting both of its arm cannons to level Crane's head clean off, which it might have done had Crane not pierced its core processor with two perfectly placed bullets within a split second of its weapons finding their mark. A long whining noise, one that could be mistaken for a mechanical scream, filled the room. The droid fell to the floor, causing a massive shake to the room, and its oil effused forth from severed pipes, hissing and screaming as it flowed.

"I still feel nothing."

The silence in the room grew as the final spurts of lubricant evacuated the robot. Finally a crackle from the desk broke through.

From a small speaker transmitter on the desk came the voice of Commander Stone:

"Then join us."