Disclaimer: Didn't know if you knew, but I'm not George Lucas! In fact, I'm not Lucasarts or Lucasfilms either!! Wow! So I guess...all the rights of Star Wars goes to them and not me! You learn something new every day.

Note: Read & Review!


With a vast sea of stars as it's backdrop, a dull gray space fighter zoomed through the reaches of the void. The Belbullab-class starfighter of General Grievous, Soulless One, was tugging away across a system in the backwaters of the galaxy. The cybrog general had been in hyperspace for hours in the cramp fighter, every since his hidden communications station was destroyed at Ruusan, and was just now reaching the secret location of Count Dooku's command ship. In reference to where Grievous had began, the system was on the other side of the galaxy and that was no small distance to travel, despite Soulless One's advance hyperdrive. Though, main delay for the cyborg general was eluding over half the galaxy's eyes and ears, as Republic forces desperately tried to capture (or plain out kill) the two meter tall metal covered Kaleesh.

Dooku's frigate loomed near a close by ice field, colossal chunks of frozen snow and dusty numbering in the thousands formed a belt in the system. Many the chunks were as big as the frigate, which wasn't truly an bigger than any other frigate in the Separatist fleet. In fact, it looked like any of the thousands of Munificent support ships that spanned the CIS Navy...a great advantage to one who wishes to command behind the lines. Like a Malastare Vine Serpent, the command frigate would appear defenseless and unable to put up a fight by itself. Then it would strike! The vessel's guns, shields, and engines out-classed anything in the Republic. Grievous veered his starfighter closer to the ship and promptly received a holographic message... ...

"Soulless One...IDENTIFY YOURSELF!!" The B1 battle droid declared as it's form appeared from the holoemitter.

"IMBECILE!! Why would you ask me that! You clearly have my identification transponder!!"

"Well, how was I suppose to know if you were General Grievous or not. It could have been someone else in the ship." The cyborg's verbolizor growled as his durasteel finger pierced the droid's tiny holographic head. Had they been in the same room, the general wouldn't have stopped from literally doing so to the B1's real head.

As Grievous neared the underside of the frigate, he noticed an odd protrusion from the hull that seemed to be a separatist lander, docked to the large vessel. C-9979 transports were common around the fleet, anyone had access to them, but Dooku's command frigate was in no way open to all. Only the most trusted of Separatist Council members knew that the ship even existed, even fewer were welcomed aboard. CIS armed forces commanders received a similar treatment and Grievous suspected that even Dark Acolytes could not simply board without good reason.

Soon, the cyborg general reached the frigate's main hanger and had settled Soulless One down into a landing. The lights in his starfighter related to Grievous that immediate area was clear and the hanger had repressurized, though oxygen was never major issue for the robotic Jedi-Hunter. The fighter's canopy slid open and the cyborg general lifted himself free from the tortuously small cockpit. Most beings would need to navigate their footing across the starfighter's hull before being able to touch the deck far below. Grievous merely stretched out his leg and stepped out of the cockpit, his long mechanical legs easily negating any idea of that Soulless One had a high clearance. Crossing the hanger in his hunched poise and flowing black cloak, the general left his starfighter to the droid engineers and pit crews. Like much of the CIS Navy, Dooku's frigate was droid operated from the bridge to the count's personal chief. Grievous mused that he was probably one of the few beings on the vessel that came close to being designated as an "organic"...very loosely though. As soon as the cyborg reached a conjoining corridor, a hood figure met the mechanical commander.

"The good general, Grievous..." The figure greeted the cyborg, his golden brown eyes shining as he removed his cowl, "I'm surprised to see you come back after such a disastrous campaign. One who imagine that you run off to that castle of your's and sulk."

"Lord Sora Bulq. I had hoped that your pathetic defenses on Kothlis would had broke and let the Jedi come and behead you. One can only dream, it appears..." The two glared at each for a moment before they both started down the corridor, side by side, loathing each other's company. Grievous cut through the silence as they walked, "I had wonder if your Sanyassan allies could have lasted as long as they did. Couldn't they have at least had kept up the defense until I reorganized another fleet?!"

"My thoughts always lay on your inability to prevent our listening post on Ruusan's moon from being destroyed" The Weequay retorted in a subdued, yet still accusing tone, "I heard that a Knight and Padawan and a hand full of clones were the ones responsible. Couldn't the famed General Grievous kept up the defense against such?"

"GRRAAH!!! You leather faced worm!! It was you who was responsible for losing the campaign!!! You let thousands of droid be destroyed for nothing!! The Both sector is LOST to us!!!"

"I lost droids. You lost fleet of capital ships...and a communication station... ..."

"RAHH!! Be mindful of your tongue, Bulq! I am the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies!!"

"I answer to Lord Dooku and our master, Master Sidious...alone." The Dark Acolyte glanced to his right to see the general's robotic fist curled up and shaking in front of the cyborg, totally frustrated, "Your rank is meaningless to me. I am Count Dooku's trusted disciple, second to no one in the Confederacy's forces."

"Feh..." Grievous really had a way with words, "...It is Ventress's spy network's fault, anyhow! It is useless!! It's clone infiltrators has proved to be a pointless endeavor, with no tactical gain to the Separatist Alliance."

"I found the clone operative on Kothlis to be most helpful... ..."

The reluctant pair reach a set of sliding doors, connecting the corridor to large room in the frigate. The cabin was nearly a black void, save for a single pool of light in the middle of the room. As the Bulq and the general entered, they became aware of the two long viewports that opened up the room to the starry vacuum outside the ship. The floating ice field next to the frigate were visible at the extreme ends of the viewports on either side, white-ish sky blue hunks. Grivevous sheepishly look of this shoulder as the doors suddenly shut tight, contemplating whether or not to face what was coming. The Weequay didn't seem the slightest bit anxious, however, and had trod to middle light pool to be full illuminated and visible to anyone hiding the shadows of the room. The cyborg groan as silently as his verbolizor allowed and entered into the column of light.

"It took you two long enough..." An ominous, feminine tone announced from the darkness, "I had wondered if you would show your faces after such a horrific failure." From the shadow's stepped a cloaked woman, her white chin and face peeking from under her cowl. Pulling her hood away, the woman revealed her bald and tattooed head.

"If it isn't the Sith witch, herself" The cyborg general proclaimed with a gesture of his arm, "Come to blame her failings on her comrades!"

"Come on, Grievous. I'm merely trying to beat you before make such a claim, yourself."

"It is too late, my dear. The good general has already taken the excuse up when defending himself to me." Bulq graced his fellow Acolyte with a hallow smile. Their relationship wasn't much better than it was with Grievous, though they were tactfully about it, "I came to advocate for your spies, in your place. Though I do have my frustrations as to the number of clone in your service."

"*Sigh*... only a few clone out of thousands have desires to leave their Grand Army. Of that, even fewer escape truly escape the Republic. I am working with a handful of operatives, all of such need to believe that we have the clones' best interests in mind. I must baby them at almost even turn-"

"You can not expect much from clone soldiers, Ventress..." A new voice cut the female Acolyte short as he made his presence known to the three, stepping into the pool of light. Ventress, Bulq, and the cyborg general all bowed out of respect to the stoic featured Sith Lord, Count Dooku, "The clones were raised to serve the Jedi Order and it's masters. We most be patient with those troopers that side with us...until, at least, they no longer hold a purpose... ..."

"Yes, my master..." Dooku turned to other two occupants of the cabin and scowled at them with a fiery glare, though his tone was seemed somber when he spoke.

"Despite your accusations, it is indeed you two's faults that Bothan was lost. After months of careful planning and the assembly of precious resources, you still fail!"

"It was Skywalker, my lord!" Grievous relied in a desperate stake to defend save face, "He was the one that defeated my fleet and then destroy our listening post!! Skywalker's powers overwhelmed my troops and his cunning skills evaded a confrontation with me, personally. There was nothing I could do but-"

"But ran away, with your tail between your legs." The Weequay interrupted, prompting a robotic sounding growl from the general. Bulq payed it no mind, "I met Skywalker on Kothlis not too long ago. I found that he has become powerful, but is reckless and easy to anger, he is of no great threat to the Confederation."

"Do not underestimate Anakin Skywalker, Lord Bulq..." The Sith Lord retorted, "The Master has much planned for him. He represents a turn in this 'Clone War' and the rise of the Sith. The Master has foreseen this... ..."

Bulq's brow wrinkled as he try to conceive as to how that little emotion boy general could have any place in their great overlord's plans. He remembered that Skywalker had been rumored to be the fabled Chosen One, a Jedi that would set the Force into balance. That wasn't much of boon for Dark Side users like themselves, balance didn't mean control but being controlled. Those who strive for equality could never achieve the order of law that Lord of the Sith would bring. The Jedi Order and the Republic were obstacles to order, as Skywalker appeared to be as the Chosen One. If their Master did have some scheme for the boy, the Weequay could not figure as to what.

"And what do you have to say for your failings, Bulq?" Dooku inquired to the Dark Acolyte, eyebrow cocked, "Your Sanyassan allies seemed to be easily defeated across the Bothan Sector. Couldn't you at least secure one extra planet??"

"There was Kothlis-"

"To which you ultimately lost." The Weequay caught a fragment of snickers coming from other side of him. He did his best to ignore them...for now.

"The Republic somehow received advance notice to our combined attack, to which General Rahm Kota took formulated a defense strategy to every specific planet and front. He was even able to send reinforcement to some worlds who we denied all communication transmissions. Kota made the difference, and the Sanyassan forces were pushed back to their base on Dressel."

"Ah, yes...General Kota..." The count stroke a finger over his shortly trimmed white beard, recalling the Jedi Master, "He was leading tactician even when was still at the Temple. Even before the war, they would call him 'The General'."

"He no doubts plan to finish off the Sanyassan on Dressel, Master." Bulq related to the Sith Lord, "Allow me take our forces their to crash the Jedi there. At very least, we can delay the Republic in the Bothan Sector for a little longer."

"Our troops are need elsewhere, Bulq!!" Grievous unnecessarily bellowed from beside the Weequay, "To waste them on those who have failed is poor decision!"

"You mean like you, good general... ..."

"I will consent to you, Lord Bulq." Dooku proclaimed after a second of deliberating, "If only to provide you with the revenge of destroying Kota. But I will only give you what droids you have now and whatever you can muster on your own."

The Dark Acolyte frowned, slightly. Bulq wasn't a commander or general, he had not the military influence to rally an army. If Count Dooku would not direct place them in a commanding role, then no Acolyte had the authority to take troops from randomly from garrisons or bases. The Weequay only had few liberties, such as access to an sercure intelligence the CIS had or the use of the numerous Separatist hefty bank accounts. Suddenly a thought cross Bulq's mind and his slight scowl changed into a slight grin. Perhaps the Acolyte had why of rousing warriors... ...

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"Troubling, it is, hearing the continued actives of Sora Bulq with the Separatist..."

Kota was standing in the middle of the High Council Chamber, high atop the central tower of the Jedi Temple. The general was in the hot point of the room, where every Council Member could see any flinch or slight move the he might make under the pressure. There was the chance that long brown cloak of traditional Jedi garb he wore hid some of his movements, how Kota missed his armor! Robes or not, though, the Council did not need their eyes to know Kota's feelings. Through the Force, all was revealed to them. Kota glanced about the chamber. Many of the Council Members were ghostly holo projections, seated in their regular roster about the room. The war prompted the Masters' physical presence to far off point in the galaxy, though that didn't limit the Councils ability to peer into the general's heart and mind. Of those who were present: Master Piell, Master Windu, Master Adi Gallia, and Master Kenobi sat quietly as Master Yoda continued... ...

"With the Sanyassans, his connections helped Dooku ally, there is little doubt." The small green sage tapped his wooden cane as he contemplated the matter, watching the Senior Jedi General with sagacious eyes. Eyes that spoke his eight hundreds of age and superiority, "The Bothan Spy Network, the Separatist desired greatly. To gain a food-hold in the sector, with the Sanyassans, they allied."

"All the Sanie privateers have falling back to their base on Dressel." Kota related, "They no longer have the strength to defend any other planet in Bothan Space."

"It is still a likely point for further invasions in the sector." Master Windu pointed out.

"Perhaps we should launch an preemptive strike on Dressel and destroy any ability to host an invasion fleet in the system." The ghostly holo of Master Fisto suggested to the group. Kota beamed inside himself, perhaps he would get what he aimed for.

"Isn't that going a little too far?" But then there was Kenobi, "Dressel was any agreed upon base for the Sanyassan Privateers by both the Judicial Forces and the Bothan government. But it is an totally inhabited homeplanet."

"Dressel was chosen to boost the Dressellians' economy" Adi Gallia jumped in, clarifying the situation, "The Bothans money would trickle down from the Sanyassan contractors to the people of Dressel. Bothawui and the Dressellian governments agreed to it, though they never could have know that the Sanyassan would side with the Separatists. An attack would harm more innocents than anything else."

"The planet has fortified by the enemy. And the Sanyassans are despite" Kenobi spoke up again, "To attack them would be like attacking any creature trying to stay alive. They'll use anything at their disposal to resist."

"If the Sanyassans have entrenched themselves, it my turn to what it is like on Mygeeto." Master Mundi's holograph booster Kenobi's position. Kota frowned, knowing sway the Cerean Jedi had on the Council, "I would hate to see another long campaign for the Republic. My Marines have been on Mygeeto since early of last year and still the planet's CIS forces hold out!"

"But must allow our hesitations of drawn-out battles dictate our decisions alone." Kota let out a silence sigh of relief as Master Even Piell, an equally influential Council Member, sided with his position, "The Separatist would never rest if they could directly invade Bothan again."

"We must forget way we are fight his war, way we oppose the Separatists." Master Rancisis coiled holographic body lay atop his seat, since it was hard to sit without legs. Oppo Rancisis was the second oldest Council Member and most conservative of Jedi traditions. The general didn't expect him to support him on an attack no matter what, "The Dressellains are young race, who have yet to master the finer points of technology. They haven't the ability to rebuild after an planetwide battle or treat the millions who would be injured. The Republic and the Order keep their needs in mind more so than anyone else's."

"The implications of either attacking or not are grim no matter what.. ..." Windu tilted his bald head down and clasped his fingers under his chin. After a few moments of thoughts, he turned to the small green sage, the Master of the Order, waiting for his fail say on the decision, "Master Yoda?"

"Hhmmm... To Master Kota, mass invasion, the only answer is. To Master Kenobi, negotiations..." Yoda shut his lids, blocking his site from the world and focusing on the Force communing with him. His eyes opened, "...With Dressel, too great the threat is. Invasion, unfortunately, our only solution."

The general openly beamed, the Council nodded in agreeance with a few acting more so reluctant with their nod. No one who disagreed was left unknown, the whole felt each other's sentiments on every matter. Even Kota knew each one's feelings on Dressel...he was a Jedi Master, after all. Kenobi's position to an attack still seem more sensible to some the Council. Yoda word was final, however, and continued discussion would prove fruitless. Master Windu stood and the Council Members followed suit... ...

"This council is in agreeance then." The dark skinned Jedi proclaimed, "Plans for the invasion and occupation of Dressel shall be put in place. Master Kota...since you continue to hold the command of Republic forces in the sector, you will be the one to lead the attack."

"Might I suggest that Jedi General Skywalker join with General Kota" The Senior Jedi almost flinched, luckily he had the strength to stop himself, "He, along with a contingent of the Five-Oh-First, would make quite the difference. We could end the fighting quicker."

"Accepted, Master Kenobi's request is. To Dressel, both of Heroes' of the Bothans will go."

Kota scowled, despite himself. The general knew that he would have to work with clones no matter what on this mission, and the 501st weren't a newly hatched unit either. What upset the general was Skywalker. He was Jedi Knight that still had his problems with keeping his emotions under key. Kota was not his old master, Yoda, though himself. He go...overly frustrated at others. Sometimes, insisted of taking a few hours of meditation calm his nerves, he went to the bar for a couple glasses of Corellian brandy. Kota knew he wasn't a saint, but he knew that Skywalker was worst...and it scared him that some many placed their lives in the Knight's hands. The whole room bowed to each other, holographics flickered off and the chamber doors opened as the present Council Members left. The general was one of last to make to leave out the door, however, someone touched his shoulder as a clear sign that they wanted to stay and talk to Kota.

"Rahm, I know you think Anakin isn't quite fit for Jedi Knighthood. But you must realize that he is one of the best commanders on the field we have, along with you."

"Master Kenobi...before you try selling me to your old Padawan, maybe you should realize that I've been in that boy's position before." Kota pulled pass the other Master back into the High Council Chamber, veering over to panoramic viewports around the room. From one viewport, he could see the Galactic City span out across Coruscant's horizon, never to end as it emcompressed the whole planet. Master Kenobi was visible in reflection of the glass as he stood behind the general, "When I was is age, I was still just a Padawan of Master Yoda. My path had seemed clouded and unpredictable, like drops of rain within a storm. I...kept a rage inside of me. A beast that I was afraid of letting lose. Only in a fight did I find some peace through it all. The boy is the same as I was then...but there's something else. Anakin and I both have our attachments."

"I do see the attachments he places on the troops under his command." Kenobi popped in, feeling he had grasp as to what the general was talking about, "Anakin must learn to let go. I do hope he learn this, but his mother's death may hamper such a lesson."

"It's...more than that, Kenobi..." The blondish Jedi blinked, Kota still did not turn towards him.

"Are you suggesting that an relationship of some kind exist with Anakin? Something the Council wouldn't approve of??"

"You were his master...I thought you would understand!!" The Senior Jedi made himself calm, swallowing back his frustrations, "Anakin and I share a connection to our homeworld...or at least the planet we use to call home..."

"I can't see Anakin having any fond feelings for Tatooine..." Kenobi was actually beginning to see what his fellow Master was talking of, though he wanted Kota to reveal it on his own.

"We both hate our homeworld. We loath them! The ghosts of those who died...who we let die...haunt us. I can tell you that Anakin wakes up at night in a cold sweat. I can tell you that he is more fearful than he leads others to believe. At the time, I felt that I needed to protect everyone around me, to never let what happen at home happen again. And now, so does Anakin."

"Anakin has many demons. From this war and from before it. But, Kota...you must know that he will overcome them, right?"

"Why. Because is the Chosen One?" The general did have much for myth and legends, even of the Jedi.

"No, Kota. Because you over came your demons. If you are the end result to a life like Anakin's, then he has nothing to worry about."

"Then, you should also know that his life could end up as Dooku's as well." The retort caught Kenobi for a second, but Kota could see from the reflection that he did not blink. The general turned to face the Jedi, "Are you ready to recognize that as possible result."

"No... ... I don't believe I could ever..." Down trot, the Jedi looked hopefully up Kota, "I ask you, then, to lend your wisdom to my former apprentice. Do not let this happen to Anakin, my friend. Please."

"I intent to, Kenobi..."

The general walked past his suppose higher officer and through the doors. How Kenobi was accepted into High Council, the Senior Jedi hadn't know but it didn't matter. None the Jedi Councils were appealing to Kota, they all seemed meant for those Jedi that found administrating oh-so-fun. He needed action, not words, and the feeling that what he did had an effect on the universe. Kenobi could keep the High Council seat and rank over him, Kota had his militiamen and a galaxy of evil to fight. Before the general could make it down the hall, he felt a familiar sensation. As Kota turned the corner, the feeling took form as an mid-30's human male, dressed in the fine garb of Dantooine noblity. The Jedi Master almost laughed as he noticed that he still hadn't cut his hair shorter or put it up in a bun... ...

"Falon Grey! By the Force itself!!" Kota rushed up and gave the smiling man a large bear huge. He felt Falon struggle a bit, but eventually gave up and pat his old master on the back.

"Master...You've changed little..." The general released the Jedi Knight and took a firm grip onto his shoulder.

"So what brings you back to from the Corellian sector, my old Padawan."

"It's a long story, Master. Lets catch up along the way."

The two, former master and apprentice, walked down the halls of the Temple, catching up on old times. For long time, Kota forgot his troubles with Skywalker and the Council. It was just Falon and him, recalling past missions of their time together and apart. Kota could not wait until Aasia met him... ...

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Aasia closed her eyes and let the cascade of warm water slid over her face. Pushing her hands across her forehead, wetting back shoulder length black hair to the back of her head and sighed. A shower after a long mission was Force blessing, especial this mission. Ram just suddenly appeared, after being dead for almost a month, he appears... ...kriffing bastard. The girl smiled as she thought about the kriffing bastard, though. It wasn't as like it was bad news. Totally shocking, totally infuriating, but not bad. The reason for not telling Aasia was apparent after her clone ex told her who he was hunting for the Republic. Only covert ops went after clone deserters and spies, or so the rumors in the ranks said. Well, they weren't rumors anymore... ...

The raining shower shut off as Aasia step out into the main part of the refresher, taking a close by towel and started drying her body. The steam fogged up a nearby mirror until a peach-colored blob was reflected and the major whipped the glass clear with her towel before moving to her hair. A thought suddenly crossed the girl's mind as she stared into the green eyes of her reflection and she frowned. Was there more? Had Ram told her everything there was to tell, and if not, why not tell her now? With that, Aasia had decided. Wrapping a long towel around her torso, she moved to the refresher's door and tapped the controls, stepping through before the door fully opened. Unsurprisingly, Ram was in the conjoining room, sitting down on the bed the other side as the clone adjusted his leg plates on his ARC armor.

"Your pretty fast with that kit" Aasia smirked out, gripping her towel with one hand as she felt it slipping, "...despite it's not your custom Mandalorian stuff."

"Mandos are raised to suit up fast. And do you know I didn't put all the bells and whistles on this rig." Ram looked at her, classic grin, as he finished rearranging the armor. The clone stood and start to move across the room to the woman, but Aasia veered off to a clear glass table at the side of the room. The female officer looked out towards the oval window, away from Ram, picturing the eternal city planet of Coruscant just behind the blinds that covered the glass. The towering buildings were there, with thousands of airspeeders zooming around them. By that time at night, the metropolis' lights were beaming in rivalry to the stars above. Aasia hate herself for wanting to pry deeper into the clone's affairs after just coming back into her life. To drive him away, now... ... The girl's thoughts were interrupted as Ram's arms wrapped around Aasia's shoulders from behind, his cool plastoid plates pressed onto her bare skin. Clone's nosed dug around, through the major's wet hair, to her scalp as his warm breath washed over her neck, "Your tense...your upset." As Ram spoke, each word tickled across her flesh, "I wanted to tell you, I should have told you. But I couldn't."

"Why?" It seem ridiculous to Aasia, a sick joke that her clone ex was playing. She snickered, but the major quickly reverted to scowl, "I'm the senior officer of a Senior Jedi General. Does Special Operations think I'm a security risk, or something...despite have clearance to find out how many toilet-trips the Chancellor takes."

"How many does he take, anyway? I suspect alot, since he is getting on in years." The girl tried not to laugh, pushing giggle in throat down with all her might. Ram twist Aasia about and positioned her to face him. His supposed superior looked up the clone, the elite warrior nearly melted at the happy smile across the woman's face, "This was want I decided...to protect you from harm."

"I'm an militia officer on the front lines of a war, Ram!"

"Aas'la, give me this. Mandalorians protect their own, your my wife."

"Your the one who divorced me." Aasia related with a sly look about her. The girl's fingers ran up to Ram's ear and flicked his lobe, "You said that you needed to do that to protect me too."

"That was different." The elite clone swished Aasia's hand away as he retorted to her, "I did it so that you could easily move on after my inevitable death. No one should have Mando pushed on them because of dead man."

"Ha...really, I think you just love living in sin." The girl inched a little closer to Ram, pulling his head down a little nearer.

"Hmm, maybe I'm just setting up to when you old and saggy. Get me a Twi'lek girl..." He willingly let himself be subdued and moved a little tighter against Aasia.

"You wish!"

The two meet at the lips, Ram slight turning his head to side to fully immerse himself into the kiss. The folds of their mouths puckered, nearly simultaneously, and they captured each other's lip warmly between their own for a moment. The clone perceive Aasia smile against him, must probably because she could feel his grinning expression. It had been a long time spent in month of disappearance. Ram and his ex had spent longer periods apart, as it was the necessity of the war, but in that month the clone felt that he lived a hundred years away from her. He wanted to savor every minute of reunion, every second of it. The elite couldn't though... ...

"I've got to get back to my men..." Ram broke away and turned to the door that exited the room, grabbing his HALO helmet off the bed along the way. Aasia was thrown by the sudden 180 of the elite clone's attentions, but quickly recollected herself. She shouldn't be surprised, the elite's bipolar mindset would normally had Ram making decisions on the fly. The clone stopped at the door and glanced back at the major in shame, with a tiny bit of embarrassment. He apologized for 'staying the night' and then just leaving, promising a return, "Tonight maybe...or tomorrow night. I can't say."

"I know."

"I can't prize you dance, either. It takes me an hour to get here from Ion Barracks and then back. It's a big city-planet."

"Ram, I understand." Aasia could not help but laugh at the clone's hopelessness, "Go! Reveille's in an hour! By the Force...your lucky that I love you."

"I know."

Ram placed his helmet and stepped out the door, looking either way before dashing off to the side and of the girl's site as the door closed. Her clone ex gone, Aasia wondered over to her bed and plopped full body down on the mattress. The girl groan, wishing to just fall asleep, but the female officer said it herself: "Reveille's in an hour..." Sigh. With as much energy as a Dagobah swamp sloth, the major pulled herself up and got dressed into her blue fatigues. As tried as she was, though, see hummed a happy tone for the rest of the morning.

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Etain Tur-Mukan? Of course I've heard of her. Force...she was nothing like General Kota... ...

Tur-Mukan's relationship with with the clone commando, RC-1136? Now that bit only came out after the Empire fell at Endor, and I'm not sure about other clones, but I was floored! People these days don't know what it was like for the Jedi back then. Taken from their families, barred from attachments...well, attachments for Jedi is your family and the people you are in love with. Even clones had brothers and there were those others who we loved like the stars.

But the Jedi...they could never fall in love... ...

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"Stars...Sarge, you look terrible!"

Carthar twisted his head back saw the clone medic, Uncle, walk up to the table where Sage, Chappie, the ARC, and he were eating breakfast. They sat in giant mess hall of Ion Barracks, one massive room that could fit a eighty Nu-class transports into it with space to spar. Thousands of paratroopers from the 28th Parachute Infantry Regiment packed the hall, including the survivors of Kothlis like the Grunts in Raider Company. Near endless rows of tables filled with dinning clone's of the whole two thousand and more troopers from just that barracks alone. Ion Barracks were the official base of the 28th on Coruscant, where major regrouping and deployments were orchestrated, from resupply paratrooper operations to jump planning for battles. Carthar arrived there on the Resolute with the 8th and rest of the paratroopers less than a day ago, the Dauntless limping back with them for major repair at dry-dock. A few elements of the 501st and Kota's militia traveled with them with remainder returning each respective forces returning after 85th Infantry took charge of the planet. Right now, the young trooper did want to think about Kothlis. As Uncle sat down beside the younger clone with his tray of green eggs and nerf, the paratrooper medic studied Ram with critical eye and a frown... ...

"Sarge, are you eating those eggs or sleeping in them?" The gray haired clone's prompts weren't to off. The ARC sergeant sitting hunched over his meal tray, struggle to pull a forge from the food to his mouth. Uncle persisted, "Sir, you should go to the infirmary. Your going to passout!"

"No...No, I'm fine." The elite clone managed a weak smile toward the medic, "I just don't have any energy today. I...umm...didn't get any sleep last night. I couldn't relax, had to...move about and walk around the base."

"Sir, you should go to the infirmary if you have insomnia." Carthar said with evident concern for his cherished sergeant.

"I'm alright, Ka'rta." Ram related with a little more energy, the young trooper didn't feel much better about the subject. He also didn't want upset the man, so the clone dropped it.

"So here's something interesting on the Holonet today..." Chappie jumped in, veer the topic off into current events. He pulled up a small datapad from his lap and started scrolling through news articles, "After Falleen fell to Grievous' forces, the planet's government officially seceded from the Republic and joined the Confederate of Independant Systems."

"How terrible!" A clone paratrooper sitting close by proclaimed with large grin, "That just fills me with Republic fervor. We patriotize the place and have all those grateful Falleen girls...ha ha...thank us!"

"You wouldn't know what to do with them if we did, trooper!" Carthar retorted to the clone.

"I bet you he try something with one of their armpits, scary the poor girls away! Ha ha!!!" Chappie called over and the whole table started cackling in laughter, even the few started howling. The clone paratrooper joined in, too, taking the joke in strides as he added a good humor counter... ...

"How do you know that Falleen women don't like stuff like that!" That comment started a few more rounds of mirth cries, "Anyway, it isn't like either of you two know any girls to know what your talking about."

As the laughter died down and troopers went back to their meals, Carthar pondered on the theme of their merriment. Intercourse, mating, sex, they were all just words to single clones. The definitions were thoroughly known, like ever subject flash trained or taught to them, but there was no aspirations or goals set for them. There wasn't many chances to explore field, that is, the entire GAR was on call to go anywhere and everywhere that war need. The young trooper was sure that if he had time to investigate the matter he would take it, if just to understand way civilians were so caught up in it. Carthar suspected that whole coupling idea (as his manual identified the relationship arrangements) was something a bit more than mating and pleasure. Families were based around two individuals who lived together, be it their own children or adopted by parents.

Sarge Ram said that Mandalorians normally adopted, even marriages were saw as a special type of adoption where sex wasn't considered a limitation. Perhaps, the young trooper surmised, two people got together because they always enjoyed be around each other. Concept of love popped into his mind, which lined up with this thinking pretty easily. Carthar remembered his drill sergeant saying that they need to love his squadmates like the brothers that they were, and by the Force they all did feel the connection that transcended assignment and mission. It was formed from battle, watching each vode back and pulling them out of the hell breach. However... civvies almost were never in a battle, and they normally in some relationship with somebody. They never had someone like Pro taking a grenade blaster for them. Pro was Carthar's vod mate with out a doubt. Maybe civilians formed something like the relationship between Billie and the young trooper. She had said that they were friends, which many Jedi and civilians tried to have tons of, according to the blue girl.

The edges of Carthar's mouth popped up as he thought of the times spent with Billie. They had a dinner together in the Resolute's mess, talking for hours about growing up as a Jedi and a clone in their respective positions. Billie seemed fascinated with the young trooper's experiences of daily training and rapid aging, Carthar couldn't believe the female healer's stories of the dozen of planets she visited to treat injured and sick Jedi, as well as the idea of not having a purpose in life. He told the girl that every clone was bred for some specific purpose, at very least to serve the Republic and the Jedi to their best. Billie described following as something close to such a concept, but much more clouded, even for the Jedi Council. The future is always flowing in different directions, she had said, and no one was truly sure what in store for them. The blue Jedi girl held a down trot face as she described her hopes of becoming a Knight in the Order, however she was born too weak and it was decided that it was best to put her on the Medical Corp. The young trooper though that her abilities were up to par with the Jedi, saying how wonderful his leg felt after she healed it. Billie smiled at him, and Carthar felt his inside twist...in a good way. She promised to try and get the trooper some leave so that she could show around Corsucant. The clone was overjoyed to hear that, but he had his suspicion that a first lieutenant wasn't able to do such a thing.

"Hey...umm...Does anyone understand what powers first lieutenant has in GAR?" Carthar as his squad around at the table, "Can she grant a paratrooper leave for a few hours or something like that?"

"Leave? Well, I guess if they send a request to a General-"

"Wait wait wait wait wait...she?!" Uncle cut in, quickly jumping on the young trooper's slip.

"Or him...them...whatever gender!" It was to late and Carthar was in the thick of it as the medic pulled younger clone into a headlock.

"So little Cherrie here as lady officer his wooing! HA!!" The gray haired clone rubbed his knuckles across across the young trooper's scalp and barked a laugh as he released Carthar.

"She's getting leave for you, Cherrie?" Saga inquired with cocked eyebrow. It was the first thing the trooper had said since he came to the table. He seemed skeptical about the whole thing, "Cherrie...has a date..."

"Can't the man have a date?" Chappie was quick to Carthar's defense, which was good since the young trooper had faintest as what Saga had ment. A date was something on a calender.

"Ka'rta, who is this girl?" The sarge posed, taking greater interest in the matter and so called 'date'.

"Well, umm..." Thought of describing put the younger clone into embarrassed and yet chirpily tone, "She's from the Resolute. She assigned to the ship's medical crew and was helping out with wounded from Kothlis. I met her and she fixed my leg." Carthar absentmindedly stared down into his sickly green eggs and stirred his fork through them as he beamed at Billie and his first meeting, "Later we got something to eat together and talked for a while..."

"That isn't what I met. Who is she, trooper." Ram was looking straight at the clone, frustrated that he did get a useful answer.

"She's, well, you know. A Jedi healer with the Medical Corps. Her name is Bih-Li, but her she likes her friends to call her Billie."

"... ..." The ARC leaned back his chair, stroking his stubble covered chin. He had forgotten to shave that morning, probably because he hadn't the energy to remember. He hadn't the energy for this young clone either, "Ka'rta...you do know, right? About Jedi... ..." Carthar looked Chappie and Uncle, even Saga, but none of them said a word. Sarge Ram was sighed and went on, "The Jedi are forbidden from the attachment of love. They can't return the feelings that other beings might have for them. The can never marry or anything equal to it."

"It-It's nothing like that!" The young trooper related, shaking his head, "We're just friends. I'm not in love with Billie. Not at all!"

"Are you sure, Ka'rta?"

"I knew a few clones who got a crush on a Jedi girl..." Uncle said, arms folded and head tiled as he recalled whoever his talking of, "They were pretty broken up after the Jedi miss rejected them for 'purity in the Force'."

"It's nothing like that, Sarge. Billie and I are friends. None else... ..." A lump formed in Carthar's throat as he said the words. Gazing down at his meal tray, the clone surmised that was fine arrangement of things. Friends, Billie and him. He hadn't any other objective and the young trooper decided that it was more than enough. So he should stop feeling so bad about it all.

I should stop feeling sad, He kept saying to himself, ...I still sad though... ...

"You ok, kid?" The gray haired clone asked as he scratched the back of Carthar's head. The young trooper felt nudge to his side and look to see Chappie smirking and hopping that the clone brighten his features. The clone smiled, feeling better.

"I'm ok." Carthar glance up to the ARC and received a nodded and a reassuring smile. He would be ok no matter what, with vod mates like these.

G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G_G

Transverse the phantasm of hyperspace, third brightly painted crimson starships knifed along to unknown location. Just inside the lead vessel, the screeching cries of agony filled the corridors. It pured from a single chamber, from a single being. The Rodian haulsman from the raided transport was bound to the ceiling of the room be metal chains. The cuffs sliced into his skin, letting dark blood run down his arms and across his bare chest. This tormentor, the lead Mandalorian named Montross, gleamed at his pain. Rolling the stun baton between his hands, Montross tickled with exhilaration. He rammed the baton into the Rodian's armpit, prompting another ragged scream from the alien prisoner as electricity sizzled against flesh. It was a magnificent chorus to the Mandalorian.

"Do you hear, Rodian." Montrossed asked, "How your shrieks are accentuated by the subtle sound of you skin burning. People would agree that it's music fit for the ages..." The stun baton was kept in, running fire down the haulsman's body. He could not scream anymore, but the Mando pressed on and on, receive breathless whimpers from the being. The sudden doors to the slid open and Montross removed the baton and turned to meet his lieutenant, Chop'aa.

"Hail, Mandolare!" The other warrior bellowed, his electrostaff missing and crimson helmet in hand. For the first time, the haulsman looked up to see Chop'aa's true face. A bald human head with a beard trimmed in a odd fashion, three braids hanging off his chin. Though had he looked like a Rodian beauty queen, the haulsman would have cared. He hated Chop'aa, he hated all the Mandolarians except for Montross. He was just plain afraid of him.

"Can't you see I'm busy." The robed Mando retorted with disdain.

"My lord, a transmission from someone who specifically wishes to speak you..." Chop'aa revealed a handheld holoprojector and the translucent blue form of a cloaked figure appeared.

"Greetings, Montross" The figure spoke, "I have a proposition for you."

"A Sith right...gggrrhh..." Montross folded his arms in front of him and glared the holograph, "The last time I accepted a proposition from on of your kind, I nearly mauled to death on some burial moon."

"Yes...I familiar with your past transactions. Your latest dealing with our Trade Federation allies has proved quite helpful. They did, however, express some grievances with working with organization."

"I hate Neimoidians. But I work for money, I always say."

"Then...You work for me. I will pay you one hundred thousand credits for join my endeavor and another hundred thousand credits after it is completed."

"If we can agree on a payment, why, you'll have yourself the Blood Reivers under your employment." The robed Mando grinned a yellow smile and noticed the cloak figure smirking slight himself, "So, which shall it be...assassination? Terrorism? Or just the simple everyday practices of a pirate."

"We'll discuss the task along with your payment, in person... "

"Your the boss. HA!" The holo faded away and Montross turned back to the Rodian prisoner. Chop'aa left promptly, to attend to whatever he attended to. The sadistic Mando leader gripped the haulsman's neck and pulled him up to eye level, let the stun baton spark next to the alien's head, "Looks like fun-time has to cut short... You know, you have nice eyes. Even for a Rodian, I have to admit, I'm smitten. I'll keep them to remember these little moments of ours... ..."


Author's Note: Do you like green eggs and ham? The book. It's probably a cultural reference that only Americans understand. Anyway...

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