Hello lovelies!

So who saw The Force Awakens?! I haven't so DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING. Gotta wait for the family to all be in one place before we go see it.

Anywho, I know that some of you have been waiting for this chapter, so I'll let you guys get to it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Disclaimer: Is the sky still blue? Yes? Then nothing's changed.


Loyalty

Jag


Jag is in the air when it happens.

He's been with the 104th under General Koon for a few months now and a lot of that time had been spent in the air. Jag is absolutely fine with that. Piloting is something he was made to do – the way it makes his blood sing in a way that battle never has. After Katraasii, he never thought he would ever be able to feel that rush again.

But General Koon proved him wrong.

Gave him a chance when others turned him away.

Jag is a member of the Pack now and Pack stays together.

Fights together.

Flies together.

Jag knows he's probably grinning in a way that is entirely unprofessional, but he can't really bring himself to care. He's in the air with his brothers and his General and this new ARC-170 fighter flies like a dream.

He's exactly where he wants to be.

His comm beeps and the holo pops up in front of him.

Execute Order 66.

Jag's mind blanks.

He dimly hears his own voice replying affirmative before the holo vanishes. He feels like he's been shoved aside, out of his own body, and someone else has slid into his skin and taken the controls while all he can do is watch from inside a glass cage.

He pounds against his prison, slams into it as hard as he can.

Order 66.

He's never heard it before. Didn't even know it existed. But here, in this moment, he knows exactly what it means. Something in his head has snapped into place. Something wrong and vile and honorless.

Good soldiers follow orders.

Jag rallies against it, tries pushing his way through the cage he suddenly finds himself in.

It hurts.

It goes against everything he's learned in this war. Orders are to be followed, yes, but not without individual thought. He and his brothers are good soldiers – it's in their blood, it's what they were bred for. It's something that comes as easy as breathing. His brothers at Katraasii were good soldiers. They had followed his orders, followed where he led. And the only result was complete, unmitigated disaster.

Following orders that day is what got his brothers killed.

Following his orders is what got his brothers killed.

For nothing.

And that's what hurts Jag the most.

His brothers, dead because of his error and there is nothing to show for it. Katraasii was lost and everything he knew with it.

Good soldiers follow orders.

He was about ready to eat his own blaster when General Koon came along and became a guiding light that led him out of that dark place.

A dark place that this thing in his head is trying to drag him back into.

A dark place where that kindness is repaid with betrayal.

An entire war of death and fighting and darkness and this voice thinks it can take away the one light that he has.

No. He won't. He refuses.

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

Yes. That's what Jag has always believed. It's what he was trained to believe.

Good soldiers follow orders.

Good soldiers.

Good clones.

But that's not all he is anymore, is it?

He and his brothers are all genetically identical. They all wear the same face. And yet General Koon has never treated them as anything less than the individuals that they are. Which was far more than many others had done for his brothers. But General Koon acted like it was expected. Like they should be treated like people instead of things. Like that was the natural order of things. It was a rare attitude to find in this large galaxy.

Clones are people.

General Koon has never treated them as anything less.

He had forever earned Jag's loyalty for that.

And now Jag is getting ready to murder his General in cold blood.

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

His mind rages against his body, screaming has he feels his fingers move towards the weapons controls for his fighter with a casual ease that he has always taken pride in before this moment.

That his skills – skills he's spent his entire life perfecting – can so easily be taken and twisted into something he never imagined could exist. Turned against someone he would gladly lay down his life for in the blink of an eye.

Like his loyalty to General Koon never existed.

Like his General's loyalty to him didn't matter.

Like it was nothing.

Worthless.

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

Jag is screaming inside his head, trapped. Helpless as he watches his body prepare to shoot down General Koon.

He's furious. At himself, at this Force forsaken war, at whatever the hell this thing in his head is. This is not what he was made for. He's a clone. And every clone knows that they were made for the Jedi. Jag had decided three weeks after General Koon offered him a place in the Wolfpack that he had been made for General Koon.

He's a clone.

And in the blink of an eye he's been reduced to nothing but a puppet.

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

No.

He's better than this. He is. He knows he is because his General has always told him so.

He's not a puppet and he's more than a clone and he refuses to let someone else pull his strings.

He's a pilot. Always has been and always will be. And he's not about to let some twice damned voice in his head take control of what's his.

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

He forces his way back into his own skin, jerking his hands on the fighter's controls just as his fingers press down on the trigger. His ship swerves out of formation, but Jag doesn't care. His shot goes wide, missing the boosters on the General's fighter completely and sailing over the right wing.

He missed.

He didn't kill his General.

But Jag can't relax yet.

He can feel something tugging at him, trying to drag him back under. He grits his teeth and holds fast to the controls, his gloves creaking from the strain. His head aches and it feels like a bantha is sitting on his chest.

He hasn't killed his General.

Not yet.

His comm flares to life and for a moment he's filled with dread, but instead of seeing the dark, hooded figure that unleashed this hell on him, he sees nothing but his General's concerned face.

"Are you alright, Captain?" General Koon asks, "You've broken formation. Was there a misfire?"

Jag wants to weep.

His General thinks his fighter is malfunctioning. That there is some sort of technical difficulty and that Jag did not just try to shoot him out of the sky. He can't speak; his throat burns and his jaw is clenched so hard it aches.

"Captain?"

Worry.

His General is worried about him.

Worried about his would be murderer.

Jag wants to scream, to rage, to cry, because his General's loyalty is going to get him killed. No. No, that is something that he cannot allow. His General's loyalty deserves to be returned in kind and then some.

And that is what Jag intends to do even if it kills him.

"General," he forces out through his teeth, "You need to leave."

General Koon looks confused. "Captain?"

"Wasn't a misfire," Jag gasps out, the ache in his head increasing rapidly, "Tried to kill you."

General Koon is silent for a long, terrifying moment and Jag forgets how to breathe. He hears his brothers clamoring on comm line in his helmet, telling him to stay in place, to stay between them and the General because he fought it off. He tried to kill the General, but missed, and if he moves they're going to start taking shots as well.

"Why?" his General asks eventually, sounding overwhelmed and confused and Jag knows he hears the comm chatter too.

"Order 66, sir," Jag chokes, "We have…we have to…"

He can't say it. He can't breathe. It's taking everything he has just to stay in control of his body. He can't speak, but he needs to and damnit why won't his body cooperate?

"We have to eliminate all Jedi traitors," Comet's voice says over the comm instead and Jag's stomach uncurls.

He can't speak but his brothers can.

"We can't control it, sir," Wolffe says, voice tense and angry, and Jag knows without a fraction of a doubt that his Commander is absolutely furious about this and something is most definitely going to be blowing up in the near future, "Something inside us is making us want to kill you. If Jag moves, we're all going to open fire on you without hesitation."

"Sorry, sir," Boost adds, and he sounds absolutely miserable, "This voice in our heads just won't shut up."

"Where did this order come from?" General Koon demands, and Jag has never heard anger in his General's voice before, but it is definitely something to be terrified of.

"The Supreme Commander," Sinker answers quietly.

"No," their General whispers and Jag's heart clenches at the amount of horror in that single word. "It can't be…"

"Sir," Jag chokes out, because as much as he loves his General, as much as he understands the horror of what is not unfolding around him, General Koon cannot stay with them, "Leave."

"Jag's right, General," Sinker says, "You need to leave before this thing makes us do something that we are going to regret."

"Please, sir," Boost says when the General stays quiet for a moment too long.

Jag can see the conflict painted across the holo of his General's face as clearly as if he were standing in front of him.

"You deserve better," their General says at last in a mournful tone.

"What are you talking about, sir?" Boost asks in voice that's one part forced cheer and another part sincere loyalty, "We have the best."

"It's been an honor, General," Wolffe says and their brothers echo him.

General Koon looks Jag in the eye and nods his acceptance.

Jag's throat is still closing around all the words he wants to speak, but he pushes them out anyway. "Force…be with you, sir."

"And with you my friends," their General says before the comm clicks off.

General Koon's ship breaks formation and heads toward the atmosphere. Jag viciously quashes the urge to fly after him. As the distance between them increases, the ache in his head lessens, but his body is still numb.

He feels violated.

Someone has taken everything he is and torn it to shreds in a single moment.

"Fuck this shit," Wolffe says suddenly over the comm, "Let's go blow something up."

Jag snorts. He saw that one coming. "You have something in mind?" he asks.

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

And if Wolffe sounds a little too feral, a little too broken, none of them comment. After all, they all feel the same. They are Pack. And someone just tried to make them kill their Alpha. This cannot stand.

That night, all military holdings on Cato Neimoidia – Separatist and Republic alike – burn.


Ta-da! I'm actually pretty proud of this chapter.

I know that you guys probably expected this chapter to be from Wolffe's POV, but in canon, Jag is the one who shot down Plo when 66 came down. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Jag, he was a Commander at the time of the First Battle of Geonosis, but he was demoted after his failure during the Battle of Katrassi. He joined the 104th Battalion after this when Plo asked him.

Let me know what you guys think!

Until next time,

~Elri