Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Credit goes to George Lucas, LucasFilm, and Karen Traviss.

Regroup and Recover

OUTER RIM PLANET: BASE CAMP, MED BAY

Headshot held out his DC-15x sniper rifle and aimed it at the ground. He ran his hand over the blaster and inspected it carefully. He ran his finger over a scratch that hadn't been on his rifle before. It was only cosmetic damage. The scratch gave his deece more character. His rifle probably had more character than he did.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"Hurts!"

"Well if you would stop twitching I could be done with this."

Headshot looked over at his two clone brothers next to him. None of them were from the same unit but it didn't matter. They were fighting the same war and they had fought in battle next to each other. They were good as any brother from the same batch.

Med was trying to pick out a piece of transparisteel in Buzz's arm. Buzz twitched involuntarily and Med held Buzz's arm down tighter. Med was a patient man but even he could be tested from time to time. Veer, a clone from the same unit as Buzz, stood behind the crates that had been pulled together to make their makeshift medical bay.

"He has a twitch… he got a little too close to some live rounds as kid on Kamino during a drill. He's trying to stay still," Veer explained as he rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted but had decided to stay with Buzz and make sure he was properly taken care of. Med loosened his grip on Buzz's arm and found more patience.

Headshot looked back at his rifle and lifted it up and aimed up at the sky. It had been hours since the last battle droids had been shot down. They had more or less won, but the battle still raged on just outside the planet's atmosphere. Headshot aimed up at a Separatist vessel and squinted and let his finger rest on the trigger. They were all stuck here until the fighting ended. He couldn't really tell which side was winning from here. Headshot couldn't even really tell if anything was happening. He did know that they were stuck here doing nothing until someone won.

"Think you can hit it?" Veer asked walking over to Headshot. He sat down on the crate Headshot was sitting on and tried to get comfortable. Buzz stared at his wound and watched Med slowly pull the transparisteel out. It helped him concentrate on keeping still. Headshot lowered his rifle but still looked up at the sky.

"Too far away and it wouldn't be able to penetrate the ship's exterior," Headshot said in a flat and serious voice. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Veer. Headshot thought it was a dumb question. Veer gave one last attempt to see if he could get his plates to bend the way he wanted them too. He sighed and gave up. The thought that Veer was trying to make conversation didn't enter Headshot's mind.

"At least we have some down time. Though I feel bad about the mess they're in up there," Veer said leaning back and looking up at the battle. Headshot looked back up at it again.

"The channel says they've got it under control," Headshot said showing a rare optimistic opinion. After all he'd been through today and making it out in one place he felt a little more hopefully than usual. Veer nodded and then looked back over at Buzz who was getting his arm bandaged up by Med.

"You're shiny and new again," Med told Buzz after fixing his arm. Buzz twitched. Med gave the clone an odd look briefly before shaking his head.

"Thanks Med," he said as he stood up. Veer eased himself up and walked over to Buzz. Veer was ready to make some sort of bed and fall asleep on it. The city they had made their base camp in had been completely demolished but there were still some things that could be salvaged. Maybe he'd come across a bedding store.

"Come on Buzz, let's get some rest," Veer said putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. Headshot stood up as well. During the fight he had been separated from his unit. He ran into Buzz and Veer and the three of them stuck together till the end of the fighting. It was a little weird to finally part ways with them. Would he ever see them again?

Veer hit Headshot's chest plate with his glove.

"Stay alive out there," he told him with a smile. Headshot nodded his head and looked at Veer and Buzz.

"You too ner vode," Headshot said as he watched them leave. He should probably find his brothers in his own unit. Next to him, Med washed off his medical instruments.

"And on to the next… if you're sticking around make yourself useful," Med told Headshot as he looked over his shoulder at him. He moved over to the next clone, who was laying down on the ground on a tarp. Med bent over the unconscious man and started to take off the bandage on his head. Headshot focused on the blue paint on the trooper's arm and walked closer to get a better look.

"You two are from the same unit. Do you know him?" Med asked Headshot as he looked up at him briefly. It was hard to tell if he knew the clone for sure, but he had a feeling he didn't. Headshot noticed the man from his unit had a small scar down the middle of his chin. He didn't recognize anyone with a scar like that.

"No… is he all right?" Headshot asked.

"He should be fine. It was just a nasty cut, see," Med said taking the bandage off and leaned forward a little as he examined it. Headshot turned away and acted like something had distracted him. He needed to get out of the med bay area.

"I better go… take good care of him, Med," Headshot said. He made a note in his head to remember the scar on the man's chin. It wasn't for any reason other than he wanted to make sure his brother made it okay despite not knowing the man. Med nodded as he started to clean out the wound again. Headshot carried his rifle by his side and walked through the dust-covered paths that had been made.

The Base Camp was pretty organized and as clean as you could get for a war zone. The things they could do when there was nothing to do. A few clones carried out odd jobs but most stood or sat around with their helmets off and talked. His eyes scanned the groups of clones. Most had blue or red markings on their white armor. There was occasionally a clone with yellow markings, like Med's, here and there. For some reason he felt uncomfortable looking at the troopers in yellow too long. He looked away and over at a group of troopers in blue and white and headed towards them. One noticed him coming in the distance and quickly turned to face him. Headshot felt the soreness in his muscles disappear and a smiled formed on his face.

"SHOTY!" The clone yelled out and opened up his arms to him. Headshot frowned when he heard his stupid nickname Champ called him. It didn't seem to occur to anyone that maybe Headshot didn't like being referred to as 'Shoty' for obvious reasons.

As he joined the group of clones they quickly started beating his armor and head butting him.

"We were just about to head out and check out the damages and look for our AWOL General," Sprocket told Headshot.

"He's not AWOL, Sprocket. His fighter got shot down," Tak corrected him. Sprocket shrugged. He had nothing against General Ramseur, but the man seemed to have some sort of agenda, if that was even possible. Jedi didn't get out much. They started to walk away from the camp and through debris. Champ stopped for a moment and picked up part of a wrecked speeder. Clack stopped next to him and slapped him on the shoulder.

"If you can find the rest of the parts I'll help you put it together," he joked and then continued walking. Champ dropped the part and kept on walking. A smile crept back on Headshot's mouth. Nothing was better than being with his brothers.

COMMERCIAL DISTRICT

Tsun Ga'ni wandered around the debris of a clothing shop. It had taken a big enough hit to wipe out the front of the shop but not enough to obliterate the back room. Commander Muro stood watching her rummaging through the boxes of unopened and unmarked garments. What his general was doing was technically illegal, but he wasn't planning on interfering with her looting.

The battle had been a long and nasty clean up job. Jedi Master Yaveen Lawris was dead and had left her Padawan Clayne Ves'len to take charge of their dwindling unit. General Ga'ni and himself had been called for help and rushed over to help finish where the other Master had left off. They hadn't been the only ones that had come to help. General Ramseur and his men came after they did and helped secure the city. However, General Ramseur's fighter had been shot down near the end of the battle. No one had received any word from the Jedi General since.

"Gray or green?" she said standing up holding a scarf in each hand. Muro stared at the two scarves. This was not something he had been flashed trained for. There were a lot of things he hadn't been trained for. Tsun, was definitely one of them. She was a peculiar female and an even more peculiar Jedi. Sennia, Tsun's Padawan, had attempted to explain girls to him on several occasions. Apparently, a male opinion on clothing wasn't taken in to much consideration. A woman usually had already made up her mind before asking a man and they were looking for reassurance in their choice even if the male sincerely disagreed. Knowing this, he didn't bother giving it much thought.

"Gray," he told her.

"Then you can take the gray and I'll take the green," she told him handing the gray scarf to him. Tsun might have been okay with looting but Muro wasn't too thrilled about it. Besides, when would he need a scarf?

"Why don't you take both? If it's not food or armaments I don't need it," he told her. Tsun tossed it so it landed around his neck and shoulders. He took if off and felt the soft fabric on the back of his neck. He put down his rifle and took off his glove to get a better feel of it. He'd never felt anything that soft. He folded it up in his hands and pressed it together to see how compact it could be. It hardly weighed anything and it seemed easy enough to stuff it anywhere. But it was stealing…

"The city is completely abandon and most of it can't be salvaged or repaired. Nobody's going to miss that scarf. Take it. It's a gift from me," Tsun said as she dug around in another box. As Muro wrapped the scarf around his neck in various ways while Tsun wasn't watching. He doubted he'd ever wear it but found himself becoming as attached to it as his armor and his rifle.

BASE CAMP

"I haven't gotten any messages from Master Ramseur yet. He's all right though," Lyda told Master Ga'ni after she concentrated her feelings on her Master. Tsun stood with her arms crossed and her Twi'lek Padawan, Sennia, at her side.

"Good. We'll wait for him to rejoin us," Tsun replied. Lyda bit her lip as she watched Tsun turn to Sennia.

"I can go out and look for him," she offered quickly. Tsun paused and then looked over her shoulder at her. Lyda looked at the angular Kiffar's face and at the tattoo she had below her left eye.

"No, you'll stay here with your commlink and let me know if Ramseur's situation changes."

"But Master, I know I can find him," Lyda pleaded. Tsun turned the rest of her body towards Lyda. Sennia's eyes looked back and forth between her Master and Lyda.

"I can come back later, Master," she told Tsun, but she was completely ignored.

"Your Master is perfectly capable finding his way back here by himself. I'd rather have a lost Master than that and a lost Padawan," Tsun told her. Lyda balled up her fists.

"I wouldn't get lost Master."

"Lyda, I don't want to take any unnecessary chances. My orders are final," Tsun said before she walked past Lyda. The forgotten Sennia watched her Master leave and the looked at Lyda and walked towards her.

"She's only looking out for you…" Sennia explained. Lyda stared at the ground and said nothing. The purple Twi'lek put her hand gently on Lyda's shoulder.

"I'd be worried too if my Master was lost," she said sympathizing with the younger Padawan. Lyda's shoulders dropped a little and she loosened her fists.

"I'm not worried… I'm just frustrated that I'm stuck doing nothing," Lyda complained before she stalked away from Sennia.

Lyda sat on a destroyed wall and stared down at her commlink on the ground. She spun it around with the force and wondered what Master Ramseur was up to. She knew he wasn't dead, but he hadn't contacted anyone.

She stopped spinning her com around and stretched out her legs so they were straight and leaned back a little. She looked at her legs and leaned forward with a quizzical expression. They looked longer than she remember. Maybe they had grown? Lyda's blonde bangs flopped in front of her eyes. Her hair certainly had. She blew them out of her face and looked up at the landscape.

Master Ramseur was out there somewhere. He felt closer than he probably was, but close enough that she thought she could find him herself.

Lyda looked away from the horizon and at the two other people who shared the same area outside of camp with her. Clayne sat meditating on the ground and a yellow striped trooper stood not too far away from him. They'd both in the same position of hours. Lyda focused on Clayne. Considering he'd lost his Master less than 24 hours ago she was surprised he wasn't a complete wreck. Clayne was nearing Knighthood though. If this whole experience hadn't matured him enough for the council to consider him a Jedi Knight then Lyda had no idea or any hope of becoming one herself. He still went by Padawan, but he was a Knight by Lyda's standards.

Lyda looked at the trooper who stood off to the side of Clayne. It was hard to tell if he was looking at Clayne or not because he had his helmet on, but Lyda could sense he was at least keeping a watch over him. The trooper felt extremely guilty and worthless. Usually Lyda was the first to come running to help someone out but she was keeping her distance on this one. Everything about the situation was uncomfortable to her. Even just looking at them made her want to get up and leave.

She reached out over commlink and brought it up to her hand and caught it. She walked over to the clearer area of the city where they had set up a base camp. Lyda needed something to do. There had to be something to do. She'd take any lousy and tedious job at this point. Commander Fly was busy making sure his injured men were being taken care of and that he had search parties looking for Ramseur. Tsun told Fly not to be too concerned about Guy, but he was more determined to find him than anyone. At least someone was. Lyda walked over to Fly and waited for him to finish giving out orders to his men.

"Commander Fly, is there anything I can do?" she asked. He put his hand on her shoulder and looked down at her. His chin was scruffier than usual but he looked alert and in control.

"Stay close. If you sense anything wrong with Master Ramseur I need you here to tell me," Commander Fly told Lyda. He had a way with words that made doing nothing seem important. Lyda was use to getting similar lines like that. She was too hasty as Ramseur often told her. It probably wouldn't hurt for her Master to be a little hasty once in awhile. It was taking him forever to regroup. She trailed behind Fly as he walked off to check on something. Maybe he'd think of something she could do while she waited.

OUTSIDE BASE CAMP

Sprocket lay on his back and looked closely at the wiring on the back of a fizzade machine. The machine stood out like a sore thumb in piles of durasteel and dust. He rewired and the machine lit up back to life.

"Niiiiice Sprock. Anybody got any creds?" Champ asked his trooper brothers behind him. The three clones looked at each other and the back at Champ.

"You don't need credits with me boys," Sprock said as he began to rewire the machine so it didn't need credits to vend.

"Can't we just break it open?" Headshot asked.

"And chance ruining all the drinks inside?" Champ replied.

"It's not like there's a det strapped to it," Headshot muttered.

"Let Sprock have his fun," Clack said defending their geeky brother. Tak stood silently with his hand on his hips and tapped his boot on the ground.

"What happened to finding the General?" Tak asked.

"When we find him he'll be thirsty," Clack explained to Tak.

"This is a waste of time… fizzade only makes you thirstier and it's probably the last thing anyone should be consuming," Tak told them even though they all knew that already.

"This fizzade machine is a lone survivor, a man left and forgotten. But he kept doing his job. We're going to honor him," Clack told Tak. Clack strolled up to the vending machine. He had seen it first so he was getting first dibs. Champ and Headshot looked at the machine in a new light. Tak also looked at the machine, with a raised eyebrow.

"What a di'kut," Tak said. There was a spark and Sprocket cursed and hit the machine with his fist.

"There!" He slid out from behind the machine and leaned against it as he pressed a button. The machine inner workings buzzed and hissed and a canned fizzade came out. Clack bent down and picked it up. To Clack the little victories were just as good as the big ones.

"They don't teach you that in flash training," he said admiring Sprocket's handiwork as he got another drink. Clack took his helmet off and the rest followed. Even though Tak had been against it, he gladly accepted one, and then another for the General. They all decide to take an extra one each for the General.

Tak looked off in the direction Ramseur's fighter ship had crashed. The General had decided to give air support despite piloting not being one of his stronger points. It wasn't a brilliant decision on his part considering that he had been shot down and crashed kilometers away from the battle zone.

Tak recalled Ramseur's fighter swooping down and getting him and his brother out of a nasty situation. It was imperative that the Jedi Master be found, but even more so to Tak. He didn't have any force abilities, but he just knew that General Ramseur was out there and alive. They all knew that.