Author's Notes: When I happened along the Republic Commando series by Karen Traviss, I was both astonished and inspired by her work. Over the course of the last couple years, I started to combine my interest in fairy tales with the complexities of the Star Wars universe. I have decided that the time has come for me to venture out of my comfort zone within the Voltron Fandom and delve into something new where I can develop my ever-improving writing skills.

Knight of Honor has been inspired by the lyrics to Nickelback's "Gotta Be Somebody," the song I consider the unofficial anthem for the Republic Commando novels.

Disclaimer: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed some of them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

Summary: A fairy tale-esque story inspired by the Karen Traviss Republic Commando Novels. Clones are taught loyalty, honor, obedience, and sacrifice -- not kindness, compassion, humanity, or...love.

Republic Commando: Knight of Honor

Prologue

I learned much about these men, born from genetics, not birth mothers. They share emotions and bonds. They are protective of their brethren. They can even be quite charming at times. Each of them is different in their own way, and they are unique individuals who should be admired for their bravery and cherished for what is within their hearts.
Private communication from Jedi Barriss Offee to Master Luminara Unduli, describing her experiences with the Clone Troopers during her time in the Republic Mobile Surgical Unit 7 (Rimsoo 7) on the planet Drongar

Felucia, 1089 Days ABG

"Execute Order 66."

I turn to my brother, Gath, just to be certain we were issued the appropriate order. He's our voice of reason and is always the one who protects us. We consider him our unofficial leader. Even he seems taken aback momentarily. None of us had anything against the Jedi, and the few times we worked with them didn't show them to be in a coup against the Republic.

I know that I shouldn't have hesitated to fire on the Jedi General, but all my life I struggled with thoughts that were considered overly active, even for a commando. I know that as commandos we were bred to have more freedom in our thoughts, but we were also bred to have unquestionable loyalty to the orders of the Republic Chancellor. I begin to silently question Order 66, knowing I should not be allowing my thoughts so much freedom, especially not at this moment. I've seen the Jedi fight and bleed right beside us. They followed their orders just as loyally as we did. Could they really have used their mysticism to blind us to their secret plans of overthrowing the chancellor?

Reining in my thoughts, I steady my DC-17 blaster rifle, what we always referred to as a Deece, and begin to take aim, but I'm suddenly not certain at who or what I should be firing. There are plenty of Separatist droids that seem much more threatening. Before I make my decision and pull the trigger, blaster bolts erupt around us, firing on the Jedi General who was in the midst of issuing an order.

Dusty throws me aside, shoving me into the shadow of an overgrown flowering plant. At that moment, I'm not sure if he was knocking me down because I hesitated or because he was getting me clear of the stray blaster bolts. In the close proximity of my brother, I notice that his armor shows the evidence of the battle we had just undertaken. The dirt, carbon scoring, and scratches on his breastplate are from the final moment when we still knew who our enemies were while we were taking out the communications tower.

We both turn at the sound of a heavy thump. It's the lifeless body of the Jedi General falling from the giant mushroom onto the ground.

The clones around us continue on their orders, seeking the next Jedi. It's a kind of controlled confusion, and it's the opportunity we had been waiting to happen.

We had been told that if we wanted to bang out of the GAR, there would be only one way out. It was just a matter of accessing the transportation and meeting up at the RV point we were supplied. None of us had the opportunity to be close to the other commando squads for any length of time, but we knew they were our brothers regardless. Their message was in perfectly clear Mando'a, and we knew they would not lead us astray. It was these new clones that gave us concern. They knew nothing of our language or our true origins as Mandalorians.

Getting my feet back under me, I'm suddenly confronted by one of the new clone troopers. He's got his DC-15 aimed at my chest.

"You hesitated on an order," he tells me, his voice full of accusation.

Shab! I think silently, was it that obvious?

Suddenly, I see his body crumple upon itself and fall to the ground. Gath is holding his smoking blaster, still aimed at the unmoving trooper. Unlike them, we protect our brothers.

"Traitors!" one of the other clones begins yelling as he's calling forth the rest of the troopers in his squad.

"Fierfek!" Gath grumbles.

Survival instinct suddenly takes over. Dusty, Gath, and I disappear into the shadows, Deeces at the ready. We don't even bother to turn around, certain it's the other clones firing at us. The carbon scoring marks on the ground near our feet and on the giant botany by our heads are proof enough.

"Where's Mouse?" I suddenly ask, realizing I lost track of one of our brothers in the eruption of Order 66.

Gath's short sentence is all the explanation we need. "The Padawan panicked."

Ducking behind a fallen stalk that's full of dying vegetation, I take shots needing to release my anger at the shabla mess of everything. I lost count after the first six clones dropped. Then, it starts to become nothing but a sea of white armor and red blaster bolts.

Again, I'm being pulled into the thick vegetation of the Felucian landscape. This time, it's not by Dusty. He's too busy covering our position.

Gath takes a hold of me and slams my helmeted head against a particularly hard stalk. "Ner vod, Mouse is gone, and we're going to get to that RV point. Now, get it back under control."

Fierfek! What the hell was I thinking?

"We need to move, now!" Dusty shouts, while Gath launches a thermal detonator into the forest trying to slow down another wave of clones.

Once more we're running through the vegetation, using whatever shadows and botany there are for cover.

Firing back into the plants, I hear another clone drop. Dusty decides to provide even more space between them and us. He launches another thermal detonator, and we're running as the explosion tears out huge chunks of ground and plants. In a matter of moments, this has become our own personal civil war. I might have felt remorse for the clones we're killing if they were raised with us on Kamino or had been given a link to their heritage, but they don't acknowledge us as brothers anymore than they do themselves.

"Thirty-feet out!" Dusty calls, and there's the unmistakable wave of relief in his voice.

I look before us now, and I see the small transport he's chosen. It's a basic craft, a four-man ship with a small cargo hold for carrying a couple days' worth of supplies. It's not much for getting us far, but it will get us to the secret RV point where we'll catch another transport. Then, we'll be free.

Finally having arrived, Dusty enters our override codes and the hatch opens with a welcoming hiss. Suddenly, he drops as a shot gets him in the back of the knee. I pull him to safety, keeping him covered from the incoming blasts.

Raising my Deece, I try to fire around the native Felucians who are confused as to who are their enemies now. While fleeing from our own army, we had nearly forgotten about them.

Without warning, the Felucians are starting to drop. The clones chasing after us had caught up to the airfield, and they are blindly blasting the Felucians. The clone army is still trying to get to us, and they don't care who is in the crossfire.

"Get him inside. I'll cover you," Gath orders.

I grab Dusty and start to drag him up the ramp. He's got his Deece in his hands, and he's firing at the clones and the Felucians. He could care less who he's hitting now. He just wants a few more kills. It's his turn to avenge Mouse, and he's doing what he can to help Gath.

We barely get halfway up the ramp when I suddenly hear Gath's armor pelted by blaster fire. Another thermal detonator explodes out in the field, and I know he only has a few left. I shove Dusty further up the ramp and start my way back down. I have to get Gath. There's no question about that.

His voice suddenly starts yelling at me over the helmet speaker, knowing what I was planning as I was in the midst of figuring it out myself. "Your girl is waiting for you, ner vod. This is your only opportunity to bang out! Don't regret it. Now, get the hell out of here!"

He wants me to leave him behind, but I can't. He's our brother. He's always taken care of us. Memories start flashing of us from our childhood all the way through to this moment, and I'm still moving to grab him.

"Close that ramp," Gath says, his voice starting to get angry with me for refusing his orders. He pauses long enough from his personal battle against the clones and the Felucians to look up at me one last time. The blue visor of his helmet stares at me, and I'm suddenly angry that I'm being denied the honor of seeing my brother's face. I won't accept his sacrifice, and I realize that I can reach his shoulder if he just stands up. My hand stretches down the ramp, and my fingers scrabble on his shoulder armor.

"Jas," he says quietly, softly, adopting a different tactic. He has accepted that this is his last stand, even though I haven't. "Go."

I don't know why, but that one single, quiet order means everything to me. I turn from my brother and slam the hatch shut. Dusty's limping toward the cockpit and looks back at me as I pass by him.

"Where's Gath?" he asks, trying to hurry in his shuffling to catch up to me.

Ignoring the question for the moment, I settle into the pilot's chair and hurry through the take-off checklist. We both hear the engines turning over, and the repulsors kick in, gently lifting us off the surface of Felucia.

Dusty doesn't ask me again about Gath. He's smart like that, and he's figured it out already. Gath is going to keep them all distracted long enough for us to get up into the atmosphere.

Lifting off, we're both keeping our helmets onto Gath's frequency, hoping he'll somehow miraculously survive. I program the coordinates into the navicomputer, and I'm moving on my own personal autopilot for the moment. It's the only way we're going to get free from Felucia and the clones who seem to have turned on everyone.

Gath's breathing and the firefight we left him in are the only sounds we hear for an eternity of seconds. Then, like a switch was flicked off, nothing but empty static fills our helmets. In frustrated anger, I rip off my bucket and throw it down the hallway far away from the cabin's cockpit controls. I actually take a second to notice that the kriffin' piece of equipment didn't even scratch or dent.

Dusty is sitting in the copilot seat, and his helmet is in his lap. His head is down, and I can see he doesn't know what to think. He just wants his moment to grieve as much as I do, but I'm too restless to grieve.

Neither of us can concentrate on the atmosphere coming up at us, and I just let the navicomputer handle its programming by itself. We're on our way to the RV point, and we lost Mouse. Gath sacrificed himself so we could be where we are now.

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, Gath and Mouse," Dusty quietly whispers, taking the vow to remember them every day of his life. We both know what it means: I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. And, now that Dusty said it, he has to repeat it every day until he dies. It's what Mandalorians do, and it's who we are. Unlike everyone else, though, we got the short end of the deal with our lives.

Choking back the anger and agony, I decide there's nothing more I can do. I take the same vow, needing to remember them forever. Gath and Mouse deserved nothing less. They were our brothers.

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, Gath and Mouse."