Order 63

By Nathaniel Young

Scifi / Humor

A Clone Wars Tale


Mora IV

1400 hrs.

Jedi Master T’lo Jaad breathed heavily, legs pumping as he chased the cloaked figure across the rooftops of Theta City. The Jedi and his assigned Clone Troops had been dispatched to Mora IV, to investigate reports of a factory suspected of manufacturing a new kind of droid for the Separatists. What they found instead were six gigantic mechanized battle suits, each with enough fire-power to knock out an AT-TE. While the troops rounded-up the workers and began deploying charges to destroy the factory with, Heeth – the mastermind behind the endeavour- managed to escape, with T’lo in pursuit. Outfitted with bionic limbs, the criminal was able to stay well ahead of the aging Jedi. Concentrating hard, T’lo reached out to the Force to give himself a speed-boost the good ol’ fashioned way.

***

Commander Valchek was congratulating his men on their successful mission with no casualties.
Then the new orders came through.

Attention all Units, execute Order sixty-six immediately. I repeat; execute Order 66 immediately. This is now top priority.”

Valchek turned to the other clones.

“Alright men, we have a confirmed Order Sixty-six. Let’s move out!”

***

Heeth raced along the roof of a flashy new casino. Ducking under a holo-screen signboard, he leaped off the edge of the building. His implants carried him a good seven metres through the air before landing atop a hover bus. Using the Force, T’lo was hot on his mechanical heels.

“Give it up Heeth, it’s over!” he shouted, igniting his lightsabre. Heeth said nothing and drew his blaster. Most of the shots went wide and the Jedi easily blocked those that might have actually hit him. “You shoot like a Princess. Bet you couldn’t hit the broad side of a space slug.”

Without warning, the driver slammed on the brakes and T’lo lost both his balance and weapon. Heeth had kept on his feet and went for the weapon. He pointed it at T’lo with a smirk on his face.

“Bye-bye Jedi!”

“Wait, you idiot! you’ve got it--”

But it was too late. Heeth pressed the button....

*ZZZZZT*

“--- the wrong way around. And here I thought you were supposed to be a genius.”

Suddenly, his Jedi senses tingled and he whipped around. It was just the troop carrier, flying alongside. Retrieving his lightsabre, he jumped aboard and slumped on the floor, panting heavily.

“Hey guys, what took you so long?”

Half a dozen laser rifles were turned on him.

“Oh Spaceballs.”

***

Kanash

1900 hrs

The lightsabre crackled as it sliced through the thick vines. Master Ko-Dorr always hated the jungle and Kanash basically was one big jungle. He was on a mission to rescue a man who was a spy for the Republic. He didn’t know the specifics, but it had to be pretty damn important to drag him away from battle to this crappy, back-water, mud-hole of a planet. And already he had lost most of his accompanying platoon to the various ferocious inhabitants of the planet. He was down to four troopers.

Corporal Kalt hung back a little, monitoring communications. Thanks to the dense foliage, it was difficult to understand anything when the comm-link kept dropping out. The fact that it had been a while since his equipment had been serviced didn’t help either. That’s when the new order came through. Sort of.

—ention all…*ksssh*…exe…*ksssh*…order Sixty…*ksssh* I repeat…. *kssh*… tely. This or-…*ksssh*”

“Central Command, this is Corporal Kalt of unit 8311, I’m sorry we didn’t read you and are experiencing interference. Could you please repeat the message? Over.”

Nothing.

He asked again. Not a peep. They were on their own.

Thirty minutes and three huge mammoth- like creatures later, they finally approached a clearing and came to a halt for a rest-break. Kalt, still feeling the adrenalin rush from their encounter, tried to remember the message. Never one to be accused of lacking initiative, he attempted to piece together the parts of the command he thought he had heard. After a minute or so of puzzling, he thought he had it. Motioning to the other clones, they gathered over at one end of the opening, while master Ko-Door meditated.

“I received some new commands back there about half an hour ago,” he told the others.

“Gee, don’t ya think ya should have told us then?” snapped one of the clones.

“Oh, I’m sorry! It’s a little hard to remember stuff when you’re fighting for your life.”

“Never mind that,” put in a third, “What’d they want?”

“We have to execute Order… sixty…uh…three…”

“63? Now? Do you really think now’s a good time?”

“Hey, they said it was top priority.”

“Whatever, man.”

The four clones walked up to Ko-Dorr. He turned and opened his eyes.

“What do you want?”

The clones moved into a straight line, held their blaster rifles in on hand and tucked their helmets under their opposite arms and began to sing in perfect, four pitch harmony…

“Oh…. for he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellooooooooow…”

The grouchy clone shuffled forward and got down on one knee…

“… and so say all of us,” he sang in his rich deep voice.

Ko-Dorr certainly wasn’t expecting the impromptu rendition of a classic barbershop piece and stared at them blankly.

“Master Ko, on behalf of the Republic army and our manufacturers on Kamino, we’d just like to thank you for doing such a swell job in combating against the Separatists,” said Kalt. “We really appreciate all your efforts and wish all the best in your further ventures. Three cheers boys. Hipip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hipip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hipip!”

“Hooray!”

“Goodbye sir, it’s been an absolute privilege serving with you.”

And with that, the clones walked off, leaving the bewildered Jedi Master sitting there.

“What the Nerf Herder?”


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