Star Wars does not belong to me. Just Skylar & Co.

This story takes place right after the Battle of Umbara. Being that Skylar and her squad are on a secret mission, they haven't learned of that battle just yet.

Sergeant Skylar Cordav, of the Special Operations Brigade of the Grand Army of the Republic, was in trouble. Deep trouble.

Her mission: Distract the tinnies while her squad completed their mission. Their success hinged on her ability to keep the Separatists' eyes on her. No pressure.

She pulled her helmeted head back just as volley of blaster bolts flew towards her position. Osik! Apparently, her mission was a smashing success so far. Hopefully, her brothers would be fast enough. Cordav didn't know how much longer she could hold out.

She stuck her head back out from the protection of the piece of rubble she'd taken shelter behind. "Hey tinnies!" she yelled, throwing a grenade. "Ya missed!"

The grenade exploded, turning several of the Battle Droids into scrap metal. But more came. Every time she took one out, it seemed like several more took it's place. She pulled back again as a blaster bolt skimmed her buyce. Scuffing the paint.

"Cordav to Jinx. Cordav to Jinx. Come in Jinx." He's not answering. Why is he not answering?

Skylar lobbed another grenade at the droids. I'm almost out. Come on, Jinx. Hurry!

Her comm crackled, "Sarge this is Jinx. Over."

Vor entye. "Hey, Jinx. How's it coming?" She turned, and aimed her blaster before shooting a droid right in the center of it's chest.

"Coming along very well, Ruus'alor," Jinx responded. He grunted. He and Dover were probably helping Quirk, their ordnance expert, move some explosives. "Almost done. How are things looking out there?" he asked calmly.

"Other than the fact that I'm cornered, I'd say things are looking pretty good," the sergeant responded lightly. "We really should have brought another squad with us. I'm sure they would have enjoyed the peace and quiet."

"You think you can hold out a little longer?" Jinx asked.

"No. Why? You need me to save your shebse again?" she joked. Even though she was wearing beskar'gam, which was like Zilo Beast skin to lightsabers, it could still overheat. And since she was almost surrounded by flying blaster bolts, that was likely to happen very soon. No way could she come running to their rescue.

"Sergeant Cordav," another voice said, cutting into their channel. And even though the man's voice was identical to Jinx's, she didn't recognize it. There were several subtle differences in his accent. This new clone was a little younger than her boys and he'd had a different training sergeant. Probably was Bric, from the sound of it. She'd never liked that Siniteen. His Arconan buddy, El-Les, was okay though. At least he cared for the men.

Back to business. There shouldn't be any other clones out here besides the four commandos of Tor Squad. This was a black ops mission. Asset denial. Aka, blowing up a Separatist droid factory. Only the General in charge of the Special Operations brigade, Arligan Zey, knew of their mission.

"Identify yourself, soldier. What in the nine hells of Corellia are you doing in this dar'yaim?" she snapped. Cordav did not like not knowing things.

By the sound of his voice, this younger clone was a little taken aback by her snappy order, "This is ARC Trooper 5555. I was sent by General Zey to assist you and your squad, Sergeant."

Fives. She'd heard of him. And she was right. Domino Squad had been under Sergeant Bric back on Kamino. Poor guy was the last one of his training squad left. He'd watched all of his closest brothers die. She felt sorry for him. Cordav knew what it was like to lose brothers. Only eighty-four of her father's boys were still alive, last she checked. Her buir had started out with one hundred and four boys. Like the rest of the Cuy'val Dar. The only difference was, he'd trained his young daughter alongside them. Now that her father was dead, they were the only aliit Cordav had.

Skylar's tone softened as much as it could with the pressure she was currently under, "Sorry, Fives. I just wasn't expecting anyone else to know of our mission."

"Neither were we," Devrin's voice spoke up on the comm. "I guess it's our lot in life to be kept in the dark. Eh, Ruus'ika?"

The Mandalorian woman rolled her eyes under her helmet, firing at another droid that was di'kutla enough to come closer. "Very bad joke, ner vod. On another note... Fives?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"I'm turning my secure beacon on. What's your ETA to my position?"

"About forty minutes, Sergeant."

"Call me 'Sarge.' And you might want to step up the pace. Unless you want a hard-boiled sergeant," she quipped.

Devrin's voice came back on. He was laughing, "Bad joke, Sky."

"You know what, Dev'ika? Shut up. K'uur!"

Fives had been warned by General Zey that Republic Commandos were very different from ARC Troopers. Just listening to them interact with Sergeant Cordav proved that right. They were a lot more lax. One of them, Dev, he'd guessed, was relaxed enough to call his sergeant by a nickname instead of her title. And not once had he heard any of them use 'ma'am.'

Even the commanding sergeant was peculiar. Not only was Cordav not a clone, she was female. And a Mando, on top of that. Before Fives had been briefed for this mission, he'd been under the impression that all weapon-wielding Mandalorians were Death Watch members. Apparently not. Wait 'til Rex and Jesse hear about this.

"I'll see if I can shorten that time to thirty, Sarge. Can you last that long?"

"I'll try, F'ika."

"Apologies, ma'am. But what did you call me?"

"Means 'little Fives.' I do that with all the boys under my command, soldier," she finished, grunting in pain and then cussing in Mando. Fives didn't think he even wanted to understand what she was saying. That's when he spotted an abandoned speeder bike.

"Ma'am?"

"Cut it with the 'ma'am, Fives. Either call me 'Sarge' or by my name. I'm not that much older than you." The clones of Tor Squad started laughing over the channel. She must have given all of them this same speech.

"Sorry, Sarge. I'll be at your position in five minutes. I've found a ride."

"Good. 'Cause I'm going psycho Mando right... NOW!" she yelled. Fives could only guess that she'd meant that she was engaging the clankers cornering her at a closer range. He most definitely wasn't prepared for the sight that awaited him.

A slim woman in fitted, matte black Mando armor with orange and yellow highlights on her helmet, her gray range-finder lowered, was indeed going 'psycho' on the droids. Besides her blaster in her left hand, she was wielding, of all things, a red metal flute. She thrust the pointed end of the instrument at a SBD and it cut into the tinny easily. He called to her and she ran to him, dodging blaster bolts and clipping her flute to her belt before she jumped behind him on the bike.

Sergeant Cordav gripped the speeder bike with her knees and threw her remaining grenades at the droids, blowing several clankers to scrap as they sped to the rendezvous point. She then wrapped an arm around his waist, surprising him, before sending the coordinates to him. Fives was just a little distracted. The closest he'd even been to females were Shaak Ti and Ahsoka Tano. And neither of them had ever held onto him for balance.

"Cordav to Jinx. We'll see you boys at the RV point. You'd better be there."

aliit = family, or clan

osik = crap

buyce = helmet

vor entye = thank you

Ruus'alor = Sergeant

shebse = backsides

beskar'gam = Mandalorian armor

dar'yaim = dead world

buir = papa

Cuy'val Dar = 'Those who no longer exist.' There were a hundred of them that Jango called to Kamino to train the commandos. Seventy-five were Mandos.

Ruus'ika = little Sergeant

di'kutla = foolish or idiotic

ner vod = my brother

k'uur = Hush! Be quiet!

Hope you wonderful readers like this so far! Please R&R.