At a Separatist base on a planet in the middle of nowhere:
One of the Separatist leaders sat deep in thought. He suddenly turned to some random person in the room.
"Those clones the Republic uses, they're chronologically ten years old, right?" The leader said to the bewildered technician who had just come in to change the filters in the vents.
"Uh, yeah, I think so why do you ask?" The technician said wondering where the hell this conversation was going.
"I've got a plan that just may win us this war." The Separatist leader said grinning evilly. "First we..."
Three days later on a war-torn planet in the outer rim:
The clones had just won another battle. They had just begun to relax before they were sent out on another mission. Suddenly something appeared in the sky, it was a ship, it wasn't a droid ship. It didn't look like any military craft they had seen before, Separatist or Republic. Everyone went on alert in case there was trouble. A large ship with the words Galactic Children's Services emblazoned on the side landed next to their temporary base. Within ten minutes a dozen more identical ships landed next to the first one. A woman holding a clipboard came out of the first ship when the ramp was lowered.
JT-757A came forward, the woman didn't appear to be a threat, but one never knew...
The woman looked at JT-757A sternly and said "Drop that blaster right now young man."
Stunned JT-757A complied. The woman reminded him of his drill sergeant, noncompliance with her usually resulted in three runs through the live-fire obstacle course, he didn't want to know what this woman would do to him.
The woman walked into the middle of the temporary base and waited until she got everyone's attention.
"Since your current guardians The Grand Army of the Republic saw fit to place you in the middle of a war, Galactic Children's Services has been forced to take you into its custody. Please board the ships. You all will be taken to the closest children's homes until suitable foster homes can be found for each of you." The woman said to the assembled crowd of clone troops.
The Clone troopers, not knowing what else to do, complied.
One month later at a Moisture Farm on Tatooine:
Cliegg Lars stared at his new foster-child and wondered for the first time why he had put his name in the Galactic Potential Foster Parent's Registry. He stared some more. He looks almost as old as my son Owen. When they said ten years old, I had thought that they would send someone smaller...
"What's your name son?" Cliegg asked, wondering what response a clone trooper would give.
"JT-757A Sir." The former trooper, now foster child said wondering exactly what the man before him meant by a name.
"How about I call you J.T." Cliegg said as he ceased blocking the doorway and gestured for his new foster son to come inside. "Come in, My son's girlfriend Beru has just finished fixing lunch. After lunch I'll show you how to fix moisture vaporators."
"Okay Sir." Said the newly christened J.T. as he set foot inside his new home and wondered how his brothers were faring.
