Rila: And here we have the beginning of what lead up to Blast's shift in behavior. The main chunk is in two parts, and I've got Blast dealing with the aftermath in the following chapter. Beta-ed by the wonderfully amazing Impoeia. :D

Disclaim: I wish they hadn't cancelled TCW...but we get the Rebels series! Yaaay~

Word Count: 693

"Leaders are made, they are not born. They are made by hard effort, which is the price which all of us must pay to achieve any goal that is worthwhile." — Vince Lombardi.

Scene Four. [Iron]

Not for the first time was Alyss grateful that she had changed her footwear. The boots were sturdier than her last pair, though mud sucked and squelched around them unpleasantly. The humidity and marshy ground underfoot did not improve her mood, nor did the flitnats that crowded around her face.

Behind her, the small group of troopers she'd brought with her were fairing no better. But they, like her, had learned how to suffer silently — especially in the face of victory.

"Osik!" The soft, hushed swear was followed by the squelching noise that accompanied footsteps.

"Stuck again?"

"I can't help that I'm so attractive."

A snort. "Yeah, like a bantha's backside."

Even their banter was hushed, and Alyss tilted her head, hard pressed to keep the amusement out of her voice as she said, "We're almost there, boys."

There was a soft, ragged sigh of collective relief. Footsteps approaching her made her turn. "Hawk."

"General." A plastoid helmet dipped. "Are you sure this plan will work?"

The question made her blink. Was she certain this plan would work? Yes, she mused after a moment, I am. After all, if he thinks it'll work, I do. I trust him.

"I'm counting on you, General."

And he's counting on me. She could feel the troopers — her troopers — in the Force, so much the same and yet not. They are counting on me. I can't let them down.

"Yes," she answered at last, "I do."

And I won't.

Scene Five. [The Sound of Drums]

From where he stood, Spark analyzed the slow approach of the enemy. Clankers, followed by tanks. Not much in the way of force - compared to the numbers they'd had before — but enough to be a problem if the plan didn't work.

"Those clankers are getting awfully close, sir." Zero edged closer to him. The helmet kept his face hidden, but the tense undertone to his words was hard to miss. His was a new face among more familiar ones, and it was clear he hadn't thawed enough to share the company's typical sense of confidence.

Turning, Spark searched for words that would instill the right type of confidence in his brother. But what could he say when his men had come by it through experience?

"Don't worry," Spark answered at last, repeating what he had been told long ago, "I've got your six."

Spark couldn't see if Zero's expression changed — but it seemed to be enough, as his fellow clone's head dropped in a crisp nod. Perhaps those words meant a little more to him — someone who'd seen combat, someone who'd lost brothers — than they would to some wet behind the ears shiny.

Zero departed, and Spark turned his attention to the thick line of trees that bordered one side of the soon to be battlefield.

Come on, he thought, willing there to be a glimpse of white plastoid through the gaps in the trees, where are you?

As if sensing his thoughts, there was a brief burst of movement that he quickly focused on, unable to stop the relieved smile that spread across his lips. The clankers won't even know what hit them.

Plastoid shells covered in mud from the knees down, the clones were quick to burst from their cover, blasters raised and ready. Alyss was at the front, lightsaber a blinding beam of pale blue.

Spark turned. "What are we waiting for, men? Let's go join the party."