A.N. ~ Mr. Gibbs, I feel furried and unusual... Yeah, if you're ever going to de-fur a couch your cats have been using as a bed for months, don't. I feel like I'm wearing a fur coat and there isn't even any fluff where I feel it. Off that strange note, at least this chapter didn't take so long, so please enjoy :)

"Ung, did we win?" Kat groaned, trying to sit up with little success.

"Yeah. But you and Claws took a beating." Ranger was sitting next to the teenager's bed, and she realized they were in the medical bay.

"Is she alright?" One again, the girl attempted to get up, but her friend gently, firmly pushed her down. Harsh white lights surrounded them. Kat didn't really have a problem with med bays the way her sisters did, but she didn't like staying down. Or the sterile environment.

"Yeah, just working through a shot of paralysis Bane gave her. Lucky it wasn't something worse." A huff from the animal in question caught their attention. She was lying to Kat's left on the floor, shifting as though trying to free herself from chains.

"No kidding. You know, I'm okay to get up. Just a little sore."

"'Just a little sore'? Alright, which rib is broken?"

"You want us to what?!" Twitch nearly collided with a door frame, she was so surprised.

"You heard me perfectly well." Tarkin continued walking with his hands behind his back and his chin raised high.

"Y-yeah, but…" The captain shook herself, regaining composure as she hurried to catch up. "We're soldiers, not civilians. On that subject, why aren't you just hiring civilians to do this?"

"Because you and your squad are capable of protecting yourselves if these people turn out to be who we suspect they are. You're all versed in close-combat, are you not?"

"Oy, vey. Look, I have nooo idea how to act like a…what did you call it?"

"Normal, innocent girl."

"I can do the girl part, but normal is sort of an impossibility. Five years of war don't leave you unscarred, and a lot of us wake up screaming in the night. Want us to explain that?" Tarkin looked at her, almost literally down his nose.

"Lie. Say you had abusive parents, adults attacked you when you were young and you still have nightmares." The teenager removed a gauntlet and nearly shoved her bare arm in the man's face.

"If they are who you say they are, they'll know what torture marks look like."

"So say you were tortured. I thought you were good at these sort of things."

"I am. And at least now I know somebody doesn't have their head up their shebs."

"No."

"Like it or not, Steam, going undercover is a part of our life in this squad. I'm not saying you have to be a pansy, just…not so scary that it's obvious you're military. Look at it this way. You find out what to need to, then you call it in, and then you get to beat the crap out of them." Twitch hoped she was at least slightly convincing.

"Sure, sure. Shoot me now."

"This is probably a bad time to mention, no weapons. Not smuggling them with us, we're relying on our hand-to-hand abilities, just like Mandalore." The others sighed, groaned, cursed, or pursed their lips, but nodded.

A few hours later had them learning things from a few professionals, like how to apply makeup, current slangs in Basic that were popular lately, a few lessons on what to and not to do, and in short, prepping for the mission.

As one woman put some makeup on Twitch's face, just so she would be more presentable to the people she was to infiltrate, two sets of footsteps entered the room.

"My, Twitch, you look rather lovely today." That tone held a tremor of barely-contained amusement.

"Bite me…sir." The captain spat out, not absolutely rudely, but in a very frustrated, flat monotone. A soft chuckle from Kenobi, mixed with a female's chortle, didn't help the teenager's ire.

"Well, I suppose you'd rather not hear that my new Padawan is coming with you. This will be a good learning experience." Twitch almost opened her eyes, but talking had already gotten her an irritated swat from the artist working on her.

"Hmm." Was all she risked. It was a contemplative, if emotionless sound.

I think Steam was on to the whole shooting thing, the girl sighed.

Yeah, well, you'd better get used to going undercover. It's a part of your life in that squad, Tail reminded.

Jerk. Her brother laughed in their heads, nearly drawing a frustrated growl, thankfully stopped by the captain's self-control.

"Okay, we're finished here. Take a look." The makeup artist moved and held a mirror up in front of the teenager's face, and she blinked in surprise at her reflection. Black eye-liner made the gold-shade of her irises far more noticeable, and a light blush brought out the soft pink lipstick that had been applied earlier.

"Huh. Thanks." Then Twitch noticed the girl standing next to the Jedi. She was around the clone's age, Pantoran, with white, waist-length hair and yellow eyes. Markings of a similar shade were on her forehead and cheeks.

"Captain, this is Chal Makto." Obi-Wan introduced. "I'll let you two get to know each other. Just be at the landing pads in one hour." And with that, the general walked out.

"It is nice to meet you, captain." Makto bowed, hesitantly copied by the soldier.

"Likewise, ma'am. My name is Twitch, though undercover, it's Akinta. You should also choose a pseudonym." The quick switch from pleasantries to business seemed abrupt to the Padawan, but she decided it was likely normal from a military person.

"Very well. I will choose one as soon as I can." They looked at each other undecidedly for a short while before the captain took the initiative.

"Alright, well, you should meet the rest of the squad. We're probably going to end this in a bit of a frenzy." As they walked, Twitch asked questions that she suspected would be necessary. "So, how are your close-combat skills? Unarmed, I mean."

"I'm still learning, though I've figured out how to make people fall asleep with the Force."

"Good. That'll definitely come in handy. This your first assignment?" The Pantoran hesitated.

"Of this scale, yes."

"Well, going undercover is a good starting point. Better than throwing you into the Beast Zone. Been with the Jedi for a while?"

"Most of my life. Since I was three." And they entered into the squad's quarters, where Read, Bucky, Steam, and Arrow were already waiting.

Ciryc growled and leaped at the Padawan, grabbed in midair by Twitch, who was basically unphased by the predator's outburst.

"Sorry, he's not used to non-clones." The soldier grunted, putting down the nexu with a firm warning to leave Chal alone. "Girls, meet Chal Makto. She'll be joining the mission." Read stood, walking over and sticking out her hand, shaking the newcomer's warmly.

"I'm Read. It's okay to be nervous. The first time out is always the worst."

"How did you…"

"I read body language. Even when you're trying to suppress it, there are still signs." The seventeen-year-old explained.

"Trust me, it gets as annoying as haran after a couple days." Steam called from her bunk, adding her name after a short pause. Arrow and Bucky put themselves into the mix, and soon the rest of the squad joined them.

"I hope you'll forgive a few mistakes on my behalf. I'm terrible with names." The Padawan smiled.

"Don't worry. I've already forgotten yours. What was it again?" Dream grinned.

"Get back down, for the love of Force!"

"No! I'm fi—ow! Watch where you shove me, chakaar!"

"You're worse than Twitch! You have internal bleeding. GET BACK ON THAT BED!" No one else was in the medical bay, except a very frustrated medic and Kat. Claws was out for a walk with Ranger and Shadow.

"NO!" They grappled for control over a syringe full of clear liquid. "I'll get knocked out on my own time, thanks very much!" A muttered curse in Mando'a from the medic couldn't be heard over the grunting.

"Fek it, kid, the more you struggle, the longer your bed rest is gonna be!"

"I'll take my chances." The teenager suddenly let herself drop, rolling with a foot pressed against the man's chest and still holding onto his hands so he went flying over her head. Before further action could be initiated by the older clone, she hopped on a bed and launched into the vents.

"Uh, Strings, what're you doing?" Sinker had just walked in to get some bandages for a large, bleeding cut on the back of his hand.

"Trying to start breathing again. I'm beginning to miss Twitch." The medic staggered to his feet, glaring at the ceiling and muttering insults under his breath.

"Kid giving you a rough time, huh?"

"Oh, you have noo idea."

The couple that 'adopted' Twitch and Chal seemed nice enough, welcoming the girls home with a large, beautiful dinner. The soldier was hesitant to eat anything given to her by the strangers, but undercover was undercover, and she had to act normally.

The Padawan wasn't so suspicious, just quiet, polite, and curious. She made small talk while her temporary partner decided she didn't care how dangerous accepting the food was, it tasted wonderful.

"So, Akinta, I'm glad you're enjoying the meal." The man, Torse Turner, said as she began raising another forkful towards her mouth.

"It's delicious. Thank you so much." The wife, Jewel Turner, grinned, showing perfect, white teeth.

This is going to be veerrry cruel if these people are innocent, the captain inwardly sighed. Tail was too far away to hear her, but she still instinctually hoped to get a reply.

Whether anyone heard her or not, though, it was still true. If innocent, the adults would lose the adopted children they had so hoped to have.

By the time the food was eaten, darkness was coming over the land.

"Well, we'd like to have you homeschooled, but you should have a little time to get used to the house, so we'll start next week." The woman decided.

"That sounds perfect. Thank you." Makto dipped her head respectfully. The teenagers helped clean up in the kitchen before being told to take a look around the house. Only the husband's office was off limits.

"The likeliness of them being guilty is already dropping." Twitch whispered as they explored the second floor of the building.

"You're right. If they were actually members of the underworld, they would want us out of the house as often as possible."

"Not to mention this would've been a guided tour if they had something to hide." The girls exchanged looks full of suspicion, worry, and curiosity.

Kat, fully dressed in a tight black t-shirt under an unzipped brown leather jacket, wearing tight black pants and dark brown army boots to finish the outfit, was in the Mess Hall, eating and evaluating pain levels every time she swallowed a mouthful of food.

I'm fine. There's only a small amount of discomfort. Nothing wrong, she inwardly muttered.

Ranger walked in and scowled at her, getting his meal and sitting down. "Could've sworn you were in the med bay with internal bleeding."

"I was. Gave myself an early check out. Really, I'm not even in pain." That got her crossed arms and a frown. "Don't worry, dad, it's nothing."

Strings walked into the door, scanning the room with hard eyes while Kat sank into her seat, trying to let Ranger's body hide her own.

"Over here." The teenager's friend pointed at her.

"Oh, you traitor." She muttered, eyes flicking upwards to spot a vent above a table near the door. An empty table, too.

The medic walked over and led the girl towards the exit. She back-flipped just as he went out, landing on the nearest bench of the table before launching against the grate over the shaft and tumbling through. She put the metal back in place, glad all the vents' covers were rigged to move inwards, and began rapidly worming away.

"Ah, stang. Fek it, I'll just treat her after she collapses." Strings growled.

THREE WEEKS LATER

Twitch and Chal struggled against their restraints, watching nervously as Torse circled them with a large knife. The teenagers were in chairs, unable to get free and the Padawan's hands too firmly bound to be of use.

"You kids shouldn't have gotten nosy. This could have been avoided." The man sighed.

"You shouldn't have tied us up. Just makes it harder on you in the long run." The captain replied, showing only anger and hostility, no fear. A hard punch landed on her cheek before Turner left. No one else was in the basement.

"Are you alright?" Makto whispered.

"Fine. Any way you can get us out of this?" A shaken head was the reply. "I can't get free, either."

Tail. Come on, I don't have time for this. Tail! Strain as she might, the soldier couldn't reach her brother. She tried focusing on sending just a spear of fear and desperation toward him, only concentrating on getting the emotions across. She gave up after a minute, surprisingly exhausted from the effort.

"Akinta, we will get out of this, won't we?" The Padawan murmured.

"No doubt. We were supposed to check in today. When we don't, they'll know something's up." The confidence displayed by the veteran didn't mirror her true feelings. She knew they could be killed long before help arrived.

"You're so calm. How can you not be afraid?" Chal tried to remain serene and remember one of the Jedi sayings: 'there is no death, only the Force'. It offered little comfort. Of course there was death! People died every day!

"I'm not scared because I've accepted I probably won't live a long life. That being said, I don't plan on either of us dying young. We'll both make it out of this."

"Right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be like this. I'm a Jedi, not a civilian." Twitch smiled at the apologetic tone. The other teenager always put blame on herself, regardless of necessity or not.

"It's fine. What you're going through happens to everyone at some point or another. The first mission's always the hardest." They were still talking very quietly, afraid of eavesdropping.

"I see. I apologize for my anxiety, but would you tell me about one of your experiences?"

She's got to be trying to distract herself, the captain decided, feeling bad that she let the Pantoran get into such a mess.

"Okay, Clone Wars or more recently?"

"I'm trying to get a better grasp of what it was like for the men I will be put in command of, so either clone war, please."

"Alright, uh…I'll tell you about Rokurr."

A.N. ~ Rokurr, pronounced 'row-KOOR'. Anyways, I'll get to work on the next chapter soon.

MANDO'A DEFINITIONS AND PRONUNCIATIONS:

Chakaar: [chah-KAR] corpse robber, thief, petty criminal (general term of abuse)