Big thanks to Jade Max and Warren for their help and feedback with the story.

I should warn you now, if the blurb didn't give it away, that this story will be dealing with the issue of forced-euthanasia and there will be some swearing - that's why this story is T-rated. If you aren't comfortable with that, perhaps the back button might be appropriate :)

Chapter One – One Less for Kamino

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Reconditioning was never meant to be a death sentence. The man who originally proposed it thankfully did not survive to see the travesty that Tipoca City Administration made of his suggestion.

Any manufacturing process is bound to produce some defective product. It is inevitable. What is different about industrial cloning is that new uses can be found for sub-standard units. The adaptability of the Jango units has been established in earlier studies, notably the Command Clone study (File XB/A/234.179) from 18,968 post-Flood. So there really is no need to cull units unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, the Administration has taken a narrower view of the subject.

Only time will tell if they discover my deception.

—Private memoirs of Nala Se, Administrator of Kaliida Shoals Med Centre. 18,978 post-Flood.

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Life was unusually quiet on Kaliida Shoals Medical Centre. In the station's tiny hydroponic section, tucked away amidst the lush foliage, Essix, Chief Aide to Administrator Nala Se, was taking full advantage of the lull in activity and enjoying a fragrant cup of kopi tea while he sorted through the mountain of datafiles that required his attention.

Essix leafed through another couple of patient files, noting that these troopers had been cleared for duty—green across the board—and were due to ship out within the next seven-day. All of the less severely injured clones from the recent Republic engagement had already been returned to their units. Now the patients who had been more seriously hurt were starting to follow suit. Most were now in the final stages of recuperation, awaiting final medical clearance. The Grand Army never stood still, not with the war heating up by the day and the casualties mounting. Infantry companies were being cobbled together out of any troopers able to carry a rifle. Naturally, there was a mess of datafiles and bureaucratic work to accompany the chaos.

The door to the hydroponics section squeaked as it slid open, making him jump. Essix quietly cursed himself for a less than commendable display of self-control and made a note on his datapad to get that door serviced as soon as possible— the servomotors were obviously on the blink.

An armoured trooper carrying a medic's backpack came through the opening, his helmet tilting to and fro as he looked around. After a beat, he gave up his search and came over to Essix. Essix frowned slightly; he didn't recognise the man. He must be the replacement for Maret who'd been seconded to an infantry company a few days ago.

The medic snapped out a crisp salute. "Excuse me, sir."

Essix sighed inwardly even as he stood to return the salute. This is a medical station, not the front lines. You don't need to salute. "How can I help you?" he asked.

The medic popped his bucket off, the seals hissing slightly as he did so, and tucked it under an arm. "I've just been transferred to this med centre and I was told to report to Chief Aide Essix, sir. I was informed that he was in here." The medic looked nervous; his first task in his new posting was going awry. It was obvious that this one was going to have a tough time adjusting to the less-martial atmosphere of Kaliida Shoals.

"You're speaking with him," Essix said mildly.

The man's eyes nearly bugged out of his sockets, but as Essix watched, he collected himself enough to snap back to full military attention. "Sir! Medic Forr reporting for duty as ordered. Sir!" he barked out.

Essix pressed his lips together. I ask for someone diplomatic and they give me another shiny jar-head. Still, it wasn't the other man's fault. He wasn't to know that the second in command of the Kaliida Shoals Med Centre was a clone. It was an unprecedented situation and one that had resulted in quiet pride amongst the clone medical personnel and chagrin amongst the normally superior Kaminoan technicians.

"At ease. You'll find we are a bit relaxed on military protocol here. I am neither an officer nor an NCO. Essix, if you please." A look of confusion crossed Forr's face and Essix muffled a groan. "You can call me 'sir' if that would be easier for you," he conceded.

Forr looked a touch less perplexed, but not by much. Essix held out his hand and the medic handed over his personnel data chip. Essix slotted it into his datapad, and looked it over, assigning Forr a work group and billet before he removed the chip and returned it.

"I'm assigning you to the Cresh Team. Your new team is mixed – brothers and Kaminoans." Essix caught the medic's nervous swallow and fixed the greenhorn with a steely eye. "Your team lead, Topuc Ti, is one of the best Kaminoan technicians we have. Things run smoothly on this station and I want it kept that way." He paused to make sure it was all sinking in. "If you need to speak with the Administrator for any reason, speak either to your Team Lead or to me. If you do speak with her, she is to be addressed as Madame Administrator or Madame Se, do you understand?"

Forr swallowed again. "Yes, sir."

"Very good. You'll be bunking with the other clones in your Team, room bee dee dash one four eff. I assume you've memorised the station schematics?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent." Essix expected no less. Perhaps Forr would fit in after all. "Make your way to Stores. Once you've been issued your kit, stow it in your quarters then report to your Team Leader. Dismissed."

The newest addition to Kaliida Shoal's medical team snapped out another salute, forcing Essix to salute yet again, before he fled the room, bucket in hand.

Essix took a sip of his tea then made a face. It was lukewarm now. So much for a quiet moment—even now, work managed to find him. He stretched, loosening an uncomfortably tight knot of muscle between his shoulder blades and checked his chrono. It was time for the evening meal. He needed to go and make sure Nala Se ate something.

Nala Se had almost finished her rounds of the convalescent wards when Essix joined her. She didn't often find time away from her duties to walk through the station, to see the men that her staff were patching up, but she liked to. It put faces to the numbers that flicked across the screen of her desk. She nodded in greeting, her head swaying gracefully on its long neck. He fell in a step behind her as was his custom.

A baritone clone voice filtered out from the room ahead of them. "What's the point in patching us up to send us back to the front lines?"

"Kriffing aiwha-bait probably figure it's more efficient than having to grow a new batch."

The rooms on Kaliida Shoals were designed to funnel sound so that staff could keep an ear out for any medical emergencies. None of the patients ever seemed to realise that. Consequently, every so often she would run into a less than discrete discussion. She was amused to note that Essix started scuffing his boots against the sleek white floor as he walked. No doubt he was hoping the patients would hear the noise and change the topic of conversation.

The voices continued, oblivious to their approach. "Have you met some of the new nurses from the Republic – now there's a reason to be droid bait!"

"Mmmm… Nice to be fussed over, that's for sure."

The first voice had more to say. "They're a bit sensitive though, one of them kept apologising the whole time she was changing my dressing. Thought she was gonna burst into tears."

They were now only ten meters away from the ward, but the conversation continued. "Makes a change from those creepy long-necks. You notice they never show emotion – make the Jedi look like kids hyped up on sparklemint sticks."

One of the room's occupants must've finally heard the squeak of Essix's boots against the medical centre's slick white floor. She heard the ferocious "shut up!" from the corridor, but gave no sign of it. After all, she was here to heal the troopers, not fuss over their opinions of her or her species, which sometimes she felt was rightly deserved.

The conversation took on a muted tone of deliberate casualness as she entered the ward and began checking the charts hung up beside each bed. Each of the patients had a look of guilt and dread on their faces as she moved around the room. She knew they were afraid of her: afraid of what she could do to them, and with good reason. A single notation on their files would send them back to Kamino for reconditioning, no questions asked. She was in charge of this station after all, and Kaminoans weren't known for their benevolence or understanding; at least not in the experience of these men.

Most of the patients in this ward were healing well. She could see their charts glowing faint green where the attending physician had marked them as RTU – Return to Unit. All green except one patient who was staring silently at the ceiling. His arms, lying outside the coverlet, were heavily bandaged. His flimsy clearly marked as red —Recondition. She paused a moment at the foot of the cot.

Essix retrieved the red-lit chart and started flicking though it, narrating as he went. "Patient's burns are responding well to treatment, but the projected recovery time is four days outside the acceptable turn-around."

Nala Se watched as the patient's face tightened almost imperceptibly. She laid a hand on the patient's covered leg. "Do not be concerned. You will re-join your unit when you are healed." She made a notation on the data chart and the red light faded to amber – Pending. That ought to buy him a reprieve of at least five days, she thought. Enough time so that his burns would be 'worth' fixing.

Time — that was all most of the men needed, but that was the one commodity that was scarce in the medical centres. Tipoca City was always pushing her fore better patient turn-over. If soldiers didn't heal fast enough or had an injury that took a while to heal, they were often slated for reconditioning. It was more efficient. She loathed that word.

It was getting late in the station's day cycle; a droid trundled in, laden with trays of food, and began passing them out to the patients. It must be time for the evening meal. She caught a glimpse of what looked like stew and various slices of vegetables. At least it smelled all right. When she'd first started here, the meals were universally unappealing, bland, and awful-smelling even if they were perfectly nutritionally balanced for recuperating humans. Essix had tactfully brought it up, and after tasting the food for herself, Nala Se had put her foot down, and the menu had improved substantially for both staff and patients.

"Madame." Essix had come up behind her quietly.

She was now refilling water glasses. The silly server droid never remembered to check if the patients had anything to drink. She would have to have a word with someone about it. "Yes, Essix?"

"I would be remiss in my duties if I did not insist that you refresh yourself, Madame."

The patient in the corner, Warwick, had wide eyes as he took in the exchange. Nala Se amused herself by wondering what the trooper would make of the friendship she shared with her clone aide. The poor man had probably never seen anything like it.

"I still have one last stop to make," she said. "You should go on ahead."

Essix cleared his throat, but didn't reply. He also didn't leave for dinner.

She let out a gentle sigh. "Very well. I will look in quickly on our way to the dining hall."

She swept out of the room, hearing the patients in the ward perk up and start chatting again once they thought she was out of earshot. She didn't have the heart to correct them and instead listened to the troopers griping about the food and trying to trade food items. They were obviously feeling much better if working out the exchange rate between topato and neeli frond paste was their biggest concern.

Her last stop was always the same.

She peeked through the doors to see that Five-Seven-One hadn't moved. He was still lying in his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling while his ward-mates laughed and chatted around him. He wasn't responding to his name, only his number, and shunned the company of other clones. It was almost as though he was trying to be reconditioned, refusing to engage with life. Five-Seven-One was a mystery that stumped even Essix, who could be counted on to enlighten her on the finer points of clone troopers and humans. Physically, Five-Seven-One was ready to return to light duties, mentally… Something would have to be done.

Essix touched her arm lightly and Nala Se remembered that she was keeping him from his dinner. She cast one last look at her enigmatic patient, and left.

Welcome to my new story! I hope you enjoyed reading it, and meeting Nala Se, Essix, and our first glimpse at Five-Seven-One.

Next week: Nala Se and Essix struggle to find a way to help Five-Seven-One, and Kaliida's rogue administrators get some bad news.