Disclaimer: I own all but Star Wars. The characters used in this fic are mine. And I love them very much, so please don't steal them. They wouldn't like that too much, either. This was a challenge entry for a Good Guys Wear White Challenge Thread on the Jedi Council Forums on I like reviews. They make me feel special and happy. Not that I'm begging or anything...

If there is anything in this universe I will never really understand, it is the cause for celebrating the anniversary of when a being was born. In my experience, the only cause for a real celebration is the success of a very important and complicated mission. An even better cause for that celebration would be if everyone who carried it out was still alive by the end of it. But this so-called "Naming Day" is an event that doesn't make a bit of sense to me. Why celebrate something that doesn't make a difference in the universe? However, the Jedi have always baffled me with their superstitious ways and culture; I'm sure this anniversary is just further proof of their strangeness.

I have known Commander Orianti for almost a year now and although we're separated by our vast differences, we still consider each other as friends. Where she trusts wholly in some unseen Force, I trust only in my skills as a sniper, with my trusty Deece by my side. When she believes an enemy death is the last resort in any combat situation, I feel it is the only option at any time, unless vital information can be gained from them. Yet, the public opinion seems to be that Jedi are always wiser than Republic Commandos any day, so they command us.

I can't complain too much. Revian and her master, General Argenn Kurtal, have proven to be very valuable assets in tense situations. They are the calm aspect of our squad while we Commandos are the driving force behind a Republic victory. If my brothers and I need to focus on a task to complete, Revian and Argenn do all they can to help us. They also offer battle plans from a much different angle than we've ever been introduced to. The Jedi may be peacekeepers, but they make great field commanders under fire. I'll always admire that in a comrade.

Even though we work well together as Jedi and clone, this "Naming Day" business gets under my skin. Revian has told me the Jedi don't generally celebrate birthdays, except for a learner's thirteenth standard year in this galaxy, and even then it's more over an acknowledgement of the date instead of an all-out celebration like other cultures have. Yet, here I sit, just a simple clone trying to make my way in the universe, watching two Jedi take part in an informal Naming Day celebration.

Today, Revian is twenty-two standard years old. To my knowledge, that's not an age that holds any special significance to a human. It's just a number, an indicator that a being is older today. Yet, we get older every day, let alone standard year. And if you really want to get technical, you get older every second of every day. Why should a twenty-second birthday mean anything to anyone, especially a humble Jedi?

As Revian kneels, meditating, on the leafy ground we currently call our camp for the night, Argenn slowly walks around her in a circle, talking of things I can only assume relate to Revian's creation.

"The Force called you into existence to become a Jedi," Argenn says, her voice barely audible to my ears. "On this very day, twenty-two standard years ago, you were born. The Force surrounded you then as much as it does right now; completely."

As much as I like Argenn's voice, alto and smooth, the words she speaks with it mean nothing to me. Or maybe they mean more than I understand. She continues, ever so softly, "This was the day the Force chose you to make your entrance into the universe, and no other."

I don't think I'll ever understand how they can trust so deeply in "The Force." What power source can unite every living being together in the universe and yet remain unseen? It doesn't make any sense when it should. I don't like it at all. And yet, Argenn keeps walking and talking.

"You were born today, little one. Although it was over two decades ago, we remember all the same. Although you were born in the past, you are also born in the present." She stands in front of Revian now and looks down on her prostrate form, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. Then, she speaks in an even softer voice, but one laced with genuine caring. "Open your eyes, Revvy."

Revian's back is turned toward where I am watching, so I can't see her face, but I'm sure it bears the same peaceful expression it always does. "Why do you say I am born in the present, Master?" she asks, her voice rough from not being used while in a trance. "Surely mortal beings such as ourselves can only be born once."

Argenn urges Revian to rise with a barely visible flick of the wrist. After a moment, she answers the question. "You are strong with the Living Force, Revvy. It is a rarity in these days, but I am truly glad you live with it so easily." Gripping Revian's shoulders in a way reminiscent of men-at-arms, Argenn smiles. "I say you are born both in the past and present because physically you can only be born once, and that is how you are born in the past. But on every recurrence of your Naming Day, you are born presently in the Force. This isn't a teaching of the Jedi order, but I believe it can be. Do you understand?"

I don't know about Revian, but I'm thoroughly and hopelessly lost. A birth is a birth, that is all there is to it. Nothing special, nothing worth remembering. Or perhaps a clone's birth isn't. Are we truly even born in any sense of the word? "You mean, Master," Revian replies slowly, as if choosing her words very carefully, "that every time a birthday comes about, we remember our first birth?" Argenn nods, but she looks as if she is expecting more. Revian goes on. "And so we're born presently in the Force because it remembers as well?"

"Something like that, but I feel that remembering our Naming Day and even observing it helps us to remember that we were chosen by the Force to carry out its work. It chose us, Revvy." Letting her arms drop back to her sides, Argenn leaves Revvy to think over the words for a bit. Nonetheless, they affect me personally. The Jedi may be superstitious, but something in their way of life seems to attract me. They were chosen to live their lives through the Force, that's what Argenn said. But what about other beings in the galaxy? What about clones?

We may not have a Naming Day, but we are flesh and blood fighters for the Republic, same as the very Jedi I have just watched. If they can celebrate a birthday, surely we can observe something similar. Not necessarily a birthday, but a day when we took our first breath or when we opened our eyes for the first time. Something, anything. Even though events surrounding our "births" weren't normal, we still have lives ahead of us. We still can comprehend what a Naming Day is and what it could mean to us.

The next thing I know, Revian is kneeling in front of me, a concerned look on her face. "Are you alright, Steen?" I could tell her. I could get all these thoughts off my chest and just tell someone that I don't think it's right that we clones are seen as only implements to get a job done, beings with no date of birth. I could tell her so much.

But I don't. There is still a war going on and we are the fighters who see hard contact on a daily basis. The selfish want of a birthday isn't going to help anyone win this War and I won't bother Revian with worthless thoughts of a fighting man. After all, when I'm dead and gone, what impact will a few worthless wishes have on anyone?

"I'm fine," I reply in my normal, quiet voice. "Just thinking." At least she has a Naming Day and can enjoy it, but I won't damper it with the thoughts of someone who was never really born, either in the past or the present. No, I won't tell her anything on my mind, save one thing.

"Briikase gote'tuur."

Happy birthday.