A Crumbling Republic

by OptimusPrime2017

The Republic is running out of clones to send out. They're forced to chose four of the best cadets and send them out as a squad. But these aren't just any clone cadets- they're specially trained ones. They're another group of commandos, known as Bravo Squad. Will these young soldiers prove to have learned enough when the time to go on their first mission arrives, or will they fall?

A/N: Made versions of Bravo Squad's armor in Minecraft for and uploaded them to my Planet Minecraft account under the username of Starryspectrum.

Disclaimer: The only characters I own are the clones of Bravo Squad.

OptimusPrime2017 presents to you,

A Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fanfiction:

A Crumbling Republic

Bravo Squad:

RC-1109 "Mars"

RC-1127 Sunny

RC-1176 "Slate"

RC-1183 "Jem"

Chapter One:

"Psst." A voice came on RC-1109's left. "Psst. Hey, you."

He turned to look at a boy identical to himself, who sat at a similar station at his left; just another clone in training, just like he was. The young clone gave a small, friendly grin to Oh-Nine. The latter chose not to react, knowing that they shouldn't be interacting. If the advisor were to notice the disturbance…

"Pssssst!" The other cadet hissed. His grin was so bright and joyful that it drove Oh-Nine crazy. "Hey, you can talk, right?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to work." RC-1109 finally responded, turning back to his screen.

"Aw, lighten up there, brother." He tried again. "What's your number?"

"Easy for you to say, Sunny." His irritation grew.

"What'd you just call me?" The cheery boy seemed perplexed.

"Ar-See One-One-Oh-Nine, Ar-See One-One-Two-Seven, that's enough." The voice of a fully grown clone rang out; the advisor.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Oh-Nine replied to the advisor immediately, glancing up.

"Advisor, sir?" Two-Seven spoke up. "Why aren't we allowed to, you know, talk to each other?"

Oh-Nine knew that the other cadet shouldn't have said it almost right away. The advisor's frown grew and both of the other two cadets in the room looked up for the first time. One seemed just as curious and the other had a that-was-a-brilliant-idea look.

"You four will have your time to talk to each other eventually, but now is not the time, Two-Seven. Now you'll focus on the task at hand. Is that clear, cadets?" The advisor reminded them sternly.

"Yes, sir!" All four of the young cadets responded sharply.

"Very well then, boys. You know what to do." The instructor nodded for them to continue their work.

RC-1109 turned back to the screen before him, eyes narrowing at the screen as he concentrated on slicing the database's systems. Within a few moments, he'd done it. He sat back, crossing his arms, with a triumphant smirk on his face. When can we get into something actually challenging? This shoulder be for the regs.

He glanced around, seeing the others still deeply concentrated. After another minute, an audible "Yes!" could be heard from one of the cadets. He glanced over to the boy, seeing his number imprinted into his daily wear. RC-1176. Seven-Six looked up from his complete, successful session and met with Oh-Nine's gaze. He gave a friendly nod after a how-long-have-you-been-done? comical look. He smirked back at the other boy, as if to say "Longer than you".

Sunny finished a couple of minutes later. There were a few frustrated growls from the final cadet, one labeled as RC-1183. After another ten or so minutes, the boy relaxed and settled back, crossing his arms in a pout of being the last of the group to complete the slicing.

Then the door slid open. All four boys turned curiously, before their eyes lit up in wonder. Two-Seven looked like he was about to jump up and down in excitement. It was a Jedi! They'd never seen one before. This particular Jedi Master had a red face with white in the center. She had long Lekku that extended from around her head, wrapped around it, and reached down to about her waist. Oh-Nine immediately knew that she was a Togruta.

"Are these the to-be commandos?" The Togruta Jedi Master asked the advisor.

"Yes, General Ti." The instructor nodded. "Care for me to introduce them to you?"

"Please." She nodded politely, turning towards the small group of cadets.

"This is Ar-See-One-One-Eight-Three, Ar-See-One-One-Seven-Six, Ar-See-One-One-Oh-Nine, and Ar-See-One-One-Two-Seven." The older clone went down the line, the Jedi's gaze following along. When Oh-Nine's number was called, he met the Togruta's gaze strongly with his own. She locked with his eyes for a brief moment, but he noticed. Then she glanced to Sunny and then back to the advisor.

"I came here to speak to you about their training." General Ti told him. "May we talk outside for just a moment?"

The tension in the air around the cadets rose. Eight-Three and Seven-Six shifted nervously, Two-Seven excitedly. Oh-Nine didn't move at all.

"Yes, general, of course." The clone nodded, gesturing outside.

He led her outside. The cadets saw him touch the pad to close the door afterwards, as to ensure that the young troops wouldn't overhear anything. RC-1109 jumped up from his seat immediately, having spotted an air vent to the hall. He crouched down next to it, pressing his ear to the cool metal.

"Oh-Nine, what are you doing?" Seven-Six demanded, knowing that the latter shouldn't be doing what he was.

Not wanting to risk getting found out by the advisor or the Jedi, he didn't verbally answer. Instead, he held a finger to his lips. The room fell silent again, and he could hear talking outside. He concentrated deeply, narrowing his eyes, as he listened and began to pick up the words.

"The Republic is beginning to run low on men." General Ti was saying. "We need more ready fast, but we don't have any far enough into training to start sending out. Some units are being split into several groups to do this. Captain Rex and the 501st are covering at least three or four different missions at this time. And Delta Squad is also busy too."

"What are you implying, General?" The instructor asked.

"What I am asking of you, trooper, is: how fast can you train these commandos?" She asked in turn. "Can you mash five years of training into one and a half years?"

Oh-Nine's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. No way!

"Y-yes, ma'am." The advisor responded, caught off-guard too. "But they are too young!"

"Their age won't matter if they are trained well enough." The General assured him.

"That's not quite what I mean, General." The clone explained. "How can you send someone who's not fully grown- a child!- out there?! It's hard for the fully grown soldiers like us. These boys won't want to go back out there after their first mission!"

"There's nothing we can do about that." The Jedi Master told him, a slightly saddened tone to her voice. Then her voice got stronger. "But we need more soldiers, and we can't get another large group out there. If these commandos are trained well enough, they should be able to do what the whole of Captain Rex's unit can do, lower numbers or not. Do you understand?"

"Yes, General." The advisor replied reluctantly. Then he asked,"When do you want me to take them to Walon Vau?"

RC-1109 gasped, freezing as soon as he did because the conversation in the hallway came to a halt. Walon Vau was only the harshest of all clone trainers, from what he has heard. Only the unluckiest and the most unfortunate of soldiers were put under his command. Any cadet who survived training with him came back out as a hardened soldier. Just hearing his name sent shivers up the cadet's spine. But hearing that he was going to train under the man's command?

Driven by fear and disbelief, the cadet noisily scrambled back from the vent. The other three cadets glanced at him worriedly and came to his side. They attempted to ask him what was wrong, but the only thing he could do was manage to growl at them to leave him be.

"Oh-Nine!" The advisor accused, as the door slid open. The cadet didn't move, not tearing his gaze from the floor. "Look at me, cadet! Look at me!"

Oh-Nine took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, and looked up into the angered eyes of his superior officer. His voice was shaky. "S-sir?"

"What exactly did you overhear?" The older clone demanded.

The cadet swallowed nervously and answered quietly, timidly even. "Everything, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I should have stayed at my work station."

The instructor sighed. "Yes, you should have, Oh-Nine. You weren't supposed to hear any of that."

"I know, sir." RC-1109 repeated, more steadily. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"I should hope not." The soldier told him, turning to glance at the amused Jedi Master behind him. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What's so interesting, General?"

"This cadet." Ti answered, a small smile on her lips. "He is more intelligent and creative than most I have seen. Advisor, you have a spy among your commandos."

"I...don't quite see how that's a good thing."

"Trust me, Advisor, this cadet's thoughtfulness will serve him and the others well. You got a good batch this time."

Oh-Nine gave a timid smile. "Thank you, General."

"Squad, fall in!" The advisor commanded.

The cadet scrambled to his feet and took his place as squad leader. Sunny took position on his left, then Seven-Six, and finally Eight-Three. Their faces portrayed no emotion as they stood at attention, heads held high.

"As your squad leader here overheard, your real training will begin today." General Ti began. "The five years' worth of training that you should have had will be instead mashed together into one and a half years, as the Republic needs more soldiers out there quickly. Your training with Walon Vau will begin in a few minutes." She paused while the three cadets to Oh-Nine's left gasped and struggled to pull themselves back together. "You will do as he commands and you will complete your training. If you learn enough from your training, you should be able to do as much as, or even more than, the amount of work of a normal, regular sized battalion. Is this clear?"

"Yes, General!" The squad of cadets chorused.

"Very well then." She nodded approvingly. "You will be known as the Bravo Squad."

Bravo Squad, eh? Has a nice ring to it. Oh-Nine smiled inwardly to himself. But that faded as the door opened another moment later.

A dark- though graying- haired man stood in the doorway, a permanent scowl across his face. The man had gold eyes, though there was a dark, unforgiving tint to them too. He wore a black suit that was easily recognized to be Mandalorian, two blasters hanging from the belt. He eyed the squad as General Ti and the advisor moved aside. He walked around them, studying them. As his slow walk around them ended, he stopped before the General and the soldier.

"This is Bravo Squad?" His voice was cold, but to Oh-Nine it sounded like it could be the man's normal tone of voice.

"Yes." The Togruta Master answered calmly.

"They're young."

"They're cadets, Vau."

"They know nothing of pain or war." He said thoughtfully.

"With all due respect, sir, we hear a thing or two now and then." Oh-Nine spoke up.

"Squad Leader Ar-See-One-One-Oh-Nine." Walon Vau turned to face him, walking towards him intimidatingly. "Introduce me to your squad."

"This is Ar-See-One-One-Two-Seven." He gestured to the cadet beside him. "On his left is Ar-See-One-One-Seven-Six, and next to him is Ar-See-One-One-Eight-Three."

"Bravos, have any of you by chance actually seen the effects of war?" Vau asked.

When none of his fellow squad members answered, Oh-Nine shook his head. "No, sir."

"Well, I have. War is cold and brutal." He told them, beginning to pace before the boys. The advisor and General had left the room. "Once, a small unit of troopers came back against orders. We tried to contact their commander, but you know why we couldn't? Their commander was unconscious and being dragged between them. His skin was slate blue. He'd been poisoned."

"Slate blue, sir?" Seven-Six asked, clearly puzzled.

"Slate blue." The Mandalorian nodded.

"And what does that look like, sir?" Eight-Three questioned, clearly curious.

"Slate blue is the shade of a trooper's face when he's not getting the oxygen he needs." Vau explained. "For example, let's take Seven-Six here."

The man grabbed the cadet by the neck and lifted him up, pinning him against the wall. Choking sounds emerged from Seven-Six as he kicked at the larger man and pulled at the hands gripping his neck. The other cadets stood there in shock, uncertain of what to do. Oh-Nine felt a hatred against this man brewing inside him as he saw his brother's face begin to turn a shade of bluish-gray; slate blue. He couldn't take it.

"Get off of him!" He shouted, snapping to action. He barged into the Mandalorian's side, shoving him to the ground. He caught Seven-Six as he collapsed, Sunnyand Eight-Three racing to help.

The door slid open, the advisor and General Ti racing in. They both looked shocked to see Vau on the ground and the cadets crowding around their brother as he held his neck, gasping.

"What happened here?" Ti demanded.

"Well, Slate and Eight-Three here wanted to know what slate blue looked like." Vau answered, a thin layer of sarcasm in his tone.

"His name isn't Slate!" Oh-Nine roared, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Well, look at you. You're a fighter." The Mandalorian seemed faintly amused as he got to his feet. "Every squad needs at least one of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eight-Three asked bitterly. "Aren't we all fighters? Fighting wars is what we're bred for."

"Most of them don't actually fight, but more like resign themselves to their fate." He told them. "Mars actually seems to see that there's actually hope in this war."

"Mars?" Oh-Nine's brow furrowed. Then it clicked. They'd studied the planets of another galaxy once, and that was the name of one of the planets; desert red colored. "Why'd you name me after a planet?"

A harsh sounding laugh came from deep within Vau's throat. "Not after the planet, after a God of war."

"Then why'd you name me after a God of war?" He asked.

"Because you're not just some number." He told him. "None of you are. I don't care what they say, but you're not going to be Oh-Nine, Two-Seven, Seven-Six, and Eight-Three anymore. By the time you leave me and join the fight, you'll have true names. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Mars nodded in understanding. He turned and walked over to Seven-Six. He held out a hand. "Let me help you out there, brother."

He took the hand and let him pull him up. "Thanks...Mars."

"Anything for a brother, Slate." He gave a small smile to him.

"Bravo Squad, fall in!" Vau ordered.

Mars took his place as squad leader, Sunny beside him, then Slate, and lastly the still-to-be-named Eight-Three. Their heads were held high, higher than before Vau had come in. They'd learned more important things in the past five minutes than through their whole training to this day. What'd they learn? That being different was okay on a planet of clones and that they weren't just some number.

*X*

"Hey, boys?" The voice came from the bunk beneath Mars.

"Yeah, Eight-Three?" Sunny responded from another bunk nearby.

"I spent all day thinking about what Vau said, about names." Eight-Three told them. "I think I know what I want to be called."

"And what's that?" Slate asked, obviously curious.

"I think I'm going to go by Jem for now on." He said.

"Jem?" Mars repeated.

"Yeah. It's got a nice ring to it."

Jem. Jem. Jem. I guess it does.

"Nice choice." Slate complimented.

"Yeah, sounds great for one of us who actually chose our own name." Sunny agreed.

"Quit the chatter and get some rest, boys." Mars ordered quietly, tapping the button for his bunk to retract.

As he was plunged into blackness, Oh-Nine knew that the lives of he and his brothers were going to change under Vau's command. The next year and a half was going to be very interesting.