AN: Here's chapter 2. The next chapter is almost complete too, but I can't guarantee it will update this quickly again.

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

Chapter 2

Harnaidan, Muunilinst, 4 months after the start of the Clone War

The fighting in Harnaidan had ceased for now, the GAR claiming a victory. Joelle had established that on the Republic channels while still in orbit. The news wasn't released to the civilian populace yet, but as an SBI agent she had access codes, and as a slicer, there were few channels she couldn't get into. Elle preferred covert ops to open battles.

Still, the city was a dangerous hike just from the unstable rubble that could give way under foot at any moment. Add to that the loose sparking power and comm lines, and she had little time to look around, all her concentration focused on where she was putting her feet. But after spending almost a week cooped up in her little freighter, it felt good to stretch her legs. The clone trooper set a pretty fast pace, due to his longer legs, but Elle hardly minded. She kept herself fit, often spending her hyperspace hours engaged in aerobics, and had no trouble keeping up with him.

Around them, clone troopers were rescuing and rounding up Muun civilians and survivors, clearing rubble. Some streets were almost completely spared any destruction, while on others the buildings were reduced to piles. Many landmarks were gone, the streets buried under rubble, and to Elle navigating the city would have been difficult, even with the downloaded map on her HUD visor.

The trooper with her led the way confidently, however. Elle hadn't really had a chance to spend any time with the Republic's new clone army since the war started four months ago, so she watched him curiously whenever she could. She had met clones before; the process had been around for quite a few years, but always strictly regulated. Those clones had never seemed smart enough to serve as an army, instead being doe-eyed creatures that needed orders simply to organize cleaning supplies, so when she had first heard about the GAR she had been doubtful about their success. But this clone walked with purpose, and Elle had spent countless hours with soldiers and had enough hand to hand combat experience to recognize a dangerous man when she saw one. He knew how to handle himself in a fight, she was certain, and his grip on his blaster was familiar.

Not an ordinary civvie, being an intelligence agent, Joelle knew a lot more about the creation of the clone army than the average citizen, though she had never heard about Kamino before the clone army had appeared. Most of the clones she had met before now were commanders, or the company that served as Senate security back on Coruscant. They were precise, polite, and professional, like many bounty hunters or mercenaries she had met. And she had never once thought that any of them were dumb. Elle wasn't quite how creative they were, yet, but they always seemed alert and competent. It was a nice surprise, to be honest. The Republic had spent an awful large sum of credits on them.

CT-4629 seemed like any other trooper, save he wore a pauldron over each shoulder and a bandoleer across his chest, and his armor had so many blue stripes it was almost half blue, half white, much less shiny than the majority of the entirely white troopers they passed. A large blue stripe ran up the faceplate and over the top of his helmet, leaving only the sides white. The pauldrons were gray and blue over his shoulders, and thick, solid blue stripes ran down each arm, shoulder to wrist. Most of his chest plate was blue as well, down both sides. From the knee down, the armor was entirely blue, boots and all.

She had never seen such a pattern before; it had all the correct markings and color of a clone lieutenant, but with additions. Yet the design was simple and minimalistic, all straight lines, just covering as much as possible. And Elle couldn't think of anyone who would alter it but the trooper himself.

He didn't speak as he led her; that was typical of the clones she had met as well: they only spoke to you if you addressed them. But something was nagging in the back of her mind, and Elle was never afraid to voice her thoughts.

"I'm curious how you know where we're going," she said to break the silence. "I was told this was relayed by an anonymous tip, yet your commander knew to call you immediately."

The trooper turned his head so the T-shaped visor on the front of his faceplate faced her for a moment, but didn't stop hiking as he spoke. "I include things in my reports. I have no control over who chooses to report what," he answered simply, voice slightly tinny through his external speakers.

Joelle narrowed her eyes suspiciously at what seemed to be an evasive answer, coupled with the lack of polite title, but she let it slide for now because in her experience clones just didn't do that.

Before she could contemplate that anymore, the clone stopped in front of a mostly intact building. It appeared to have originally been a corporate office building, large and industrial but the sign was too ruined to read now. "It's in here, 3rd floor," he informed her, tapping the side of his helmet to activate his headlamp. Elle put any other thoughts out of her mind to focus on the mission, pulling a scanner from a pocket on her utility belt to search for additional pieces of tech as they walked through the ruined building.

Parts were blackened, parts intact. Chairs, desks, flimsies and broken datapads were scattered haphazardly, along with personal affects. Dust and debris from the walls and ceiling coated everything, and got in her mouth when she inhaled. It tasted of smoke and metal.

She followed the clone up two dark flights of stairs, navigated in flickering light as the power fluctuated, glancing at her scanner every few steps. On the third floor, two doors down the hall and around a large hole in the floor, he dropped his rifle into only one hand and she watched as he moved some rubble he'd cleverly hidden the tech behind. Pulling out a datapad, rod, and her slicing tools, Elle knelt and eagerly got to work, leaving him to stand guard.

She was a good slicer, and she'd written a number of programs to help speed things along. It took her only about five minutes to gain access to the computer's memory core, and only so long because she took precautions to avoid triggering any fire walls that could delete the data. In doing so, she noticed she wasn't the first one to slice in. The work was sneaky, but there were a few lines of tampered code she came across, and Elle was good. This was confirmed as she started going through the data files: what remained was sure to contain great evidence, but something was missing, a series of numbers indicative of files. After making sure the memory core would survive being shut down and transported, and disabling a few fail safes, she powered everything down, stood, and turned to stare hard at her clone escort.

He was staring at her intently, leaning casually against the door frame, watching her, not the hallway, rifle relaxed in his hands. Tall and broad shouldered, he was a menacing figure, but she had dealt with these types of men before. Usually, they underestimated her. Most men did; she looked dainty, but Elle had extensive hand to hand combat training and kept herself fit.

"What did you take?" she demanded quietly, feeling him out, not quite ready to start a fight.

The clone didn't react, didn't move a muscle. "Excuse me, sir?" His voice was meant to sound innocent and confused, but carried an undertone of mirth.

"CT-4629, was it?" she inquired. He hesitated, then gave a single, stiff nod. His entire body seemed to tense up when she recited his numbers. "Someone's sliced this before," she informed him, though she suspected he already knew, pointing to the tech on the floor with one gloved hand. "I assume it was you. I want whatever data you took."

"You can't prove that," he said simply, the most unhelpful phrase she had ever heard from a clone. She sucked in a breath of surprise through her nose.

Elle crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one foot, eyes narrowing as she glared at him. "No. But I need that data, for the security of the Republic. Hand it over. What good is it to you?"

He still didn't move, visor impassive, the best poker face anyone could conceive. And he didn't even have to work at it. "Make it worth my while." This time, his tone was an open challenge.

That caught her off-guard, and her eyebrows shot up for a moment, before she composed herself. This was a surprise. A clone, ignoring orders, and bargaining with her? Elle had never heard of such a thing, and it made her take a few mental steps backwards in her estimation of clones.

"Fine," she said simply, playing along, trying to throw him off-guard in turn by giving in. "Name your price, but know that my funds are limited." She was curious as to what would tempt a clone, after all.

He didn't disappoint her, giving an honest answer without skipping a beat. "I don't want funds, I want off this kriffing planet, away from my company," he explained without preamble, causing her eyebrows to shoot up again in surprise. Wasn't loyalty to the Republic supposed to be bred into these clones? Why in the galaxy was he trying to desert? "And I want you to use your contacts to help me find something."

"That's a hard bargain. You really think I can do all of that?" Elle returned incredulously, stalling to buy herself time to think over his offer and figure out if she could even meet his demands, nevertheless whether she should or not.

The clone was confident, and determined. He didn't even flinch, as if he knew she had no choice. He just shrugged and, to farther tempt her, pulled a datarod from a pocket on his bandoleer, holding it up between them temptingly. Her eyes immediately landed on it, knowing it had to contain the missing data, and Elle had the sensation of a trap closing around her. He began twirling it absently between his fingers. The T-visor on his helmet stared her down, but of course without seeing his eyes she couldn't tell where exactly he was looking. It unnerved her, but she hid it. Inside, she was bristling at the way she had been maneuvered into a corner.

Elle pursed her lips in thought, but not for long. What choice did she have, after all? They were here, alone. Elle knew her strengths, and she knew she would never be able to physically pry the datarod from him; he was too large, too strong for her to win in a fight. Her skills depended on stealth, attacking when her opponent wasn't prepared, blending in, and occasionally pick pocketing. He would probably just crush it in his fist the moment she made a hostile move. He was the one here with nothing to lose, and she knew from experience that gave him the bargaining power.

And she hated it. Elle hated losing control of a situation, but now she suspected that she had never been in control at all, and this entire thing was a set up. If she chose to try and go back to the garrison and report to his commander, he would still have plenty of time to destroy the datarod, and then there would be no proof of her claims against him.

If she wanted that data, she was going to have to bite and go along with what he asked, as much as she hated the idea. "Fine. Deal. Now help me carry this frinking stuff back to my ship."

AN: Oh, Elle, you have no idea how much you're going to hate him. Reviews are loved!

I usually don't post answers to reviews here, because I prefer to reply over the PM system, but thank you so much for your reviews! I was a bit concerned that no one else besides me would be interested in a story only about OCs. I shall try not to let you down.