A/N: Hey guys! Just want to address some of the reviews from the last chapter, and tell you a little about this one.

war sage: The 230th hasn't gotten reinforcements mostly because the Republic is still reeling from the sudden influx of troops. Remember, when the battalion was on Coruscant, it was about three months after the battle of Geonosis. Most reinforcements came from Kamino.

LongLiveTheClones: Thank you. I read lots of Karen Traviss' RepCom books, and draw inspiration from her. yeah, I figured to make it realistic as possible, there should be the captains under the commander. With lieutenants under them, then sergeants, then troopers.

For this chapter: I reveal the cause of Drakes' intense dislike of Jedi. I'll say nothing more, and let you read it for yourself. Enjoy!

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Chapter Ten

Memories and Apologies

101 Days ABG

"You did what?" Eldis Hahn took a moment to remind himself that the man standing in front of him was a hologram. Though the general could almost feel the anger that count Dooku was exuding, even from such a great distance. He maintained a calm expression, and repeated what he'd said not ten seconds ago.

" I informed the Republic forces that if they refuse to leave Talasea, I will continue to execute hostages." If being told what Eldis had said a second time improved Dookus' mood, it did not show on the separatist leaders face.

"Perhaps I was unclear when I gave you your instructions, general Hahn. You were to trap the Republic forces on the planet, not appeal to the compassion of the Jedi generals!"

Eldis smiled, knowing he probably looked smug, and not particularly caring. He hadn't told Dooku the full extent of his plan. "Count Dooku, have a little faith. The Republic will remain on Talasea. As you may know, we are now in the beginning of Talaseas' wet season. The thunderstorms here are powerful enough to rival those of Jabiim. Even if they do decide to leave, their transports won't be able to leave the atmosphere. In the mean time, I shall continue to harass their forces. They'll have to call in reinforcements, or be wiped out" he explained.

Dooku looked slightly less irritated and more thoughtful. Finally, he nodded once, and said " very well. I trust you know what you are doing, general. I shouldn't need to explain the consequences should you fail" and on that ominous note, the hologram cut out, and Eldis leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh of relief.

However, it wasn't long before his smug grin was back, and he muttered "I never fail. Major!" There was a clack of boot heels as their owner came to attention.

"Yes, general?" The major inquired, his tone polite and professional.

"The Republic will be sending their forces to scout out our positions on the island. I trust that our forces are in position?" He needn't have asked. He'd checked earlier on the holo-map that represented the theatre of battle. Both sides were stationed on one of Talaseas' larger islands, covered for the most parts in mountains and forests. The Republic camp and troops were represented as a red ring, with red dots stationed inside and around the ring. Eldis' forces were represented as blue dots stationed at various points on the island.

About three kilometres from the Republic base, was a small mountain, with a waterfall and river flowing from its' heights. Across the river, on his side of the holo, was a line of three slightly larger blue dots, representing armoured assault tanks, more commonly known as AATs. Anyone attempting to maneuver troops on either side of the river would be exposed to heavy weapons fire. Units of B1 and B2 battle droids were stationed throughout the forest, and anti aircraft guns had been stationed by the governors palace. There was no way the Republic forces could perform a single surgical strike to remove him. Not without taking severe casualties, which, considering the small number of troops the Republic currently had on the ground could not afford to take so many casualties. He brought his steaming cup of tea to his lips, and sipped, pleased with his own genius.

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Jag sat on an area of ground that hadn't been turned into a quagmire by rain and troopers boots, watching his brothers move back and forth, checking equipment, patrolling, or like him, searching for a place that wasn't muck to sit in. Tor, Dagger and Sharp sat with him, enjoying the few minutes of downtime. They'd been searching for survivors, and bodies since the attack. It was morning now, though no one could tell by looking. The clouds were thick and dark grey, almost black. Every couple of minutes, a rumble of thunder, sounding very much like the growl of a hunting rancor, could be heard. Jag chewed on a ration bar, not bothering to taste the bland thing, wishing for something better, but knowing that, for now, dry rations was the best he would get.

Tor sat directly across from him meticulously disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling his rifle. Dagger and Sharp were wiping down their armour, uncovering the yellow-gold of their armour markings. Jag guessed it was an exercise in futility. The rain didn't look like it was going to let up, and the mud stretched to the forest, and probably beyond. The white of his own armour was marred with mud, from the boots to mid thigh. The grim silence of the four brothers began to wear on his nerves. Finally, he said "so. Any clue what's going on with the commanders?" They'd all seen commander Drake lose his cool with the small Jedi girl. It was no secret that Drake disliked Jedi. Most of the battalions attitude toward Jedi ranged between nervous or quietly resentful of the robe wearing Force users.

Dagger shrugged. "You saw what happened on Muunilinst. He's never been one to depend on well, anybody" the man had a valid point. He was as likely to ask someone for help as he was to cut off his own arm.

"I guess" Jag said, unconvinced that having his shebs saved by the little commander would piss him off that badly.

"Look, do you want to ask the commander what he was yelling about?" Sharp asked, giving up on scraping muck off his greaves. Jag grimaced and shook his head. It wasn't hard to spot the commander stalking around the camp, probably looking for someone to vent his temper on. The men of first company knew their commanders moods well enough to give him a wide berth. But it wasn't just Drake that seemed to be in a foul mood. All three captains seemed to be rather irritable, ever since the general had called them into the command center.

"Whatever it is, it isn't any of our business" Tor said, having finished with his rifle and joining the conversation.

Jag sighed and rolled his eyes. Leave it to Tor to kill a good round of speculation about superior officers in its' tracks. "Come on, vod we're just having a little fun" Tor stared, then opened his mouth, but before he could start speaking, Dagger elbowed him.

"Tor, please don't start citing regs. We all know once you get started, you'll never stop." That earned him a glare from his brother, but he closed his mouth.

Sharp sighed and wearily rubbed his face, obviously tired, yet not wanting to give in and take a stim. "I guess we'll just have to settle for not knowing. Like always"

Jag wasn't particularly happy with that outcome, but it was the truth. All of them were too tactful to outright ask either commander. "Still, I'd like to-" he frowned at Tor, whose eyes had widened slightly, and lips parted, as if he was getting ready to spring to attention, or answer a question.

Jag referred to it as his 'incoming officer' look. He clamped his mouth shut, and turned to see sergeant Ice approaching, helmet under one arm, rifle in his other hand. "Sergeant!" Sharp exclaimed climbing to his feet. "Have we got an assignment?"

" You four do. The rest of us are on base security." Ice replied, looking slightly troubled. It wasn't often that the squad was divided, though, it did make sense, considering the men they'd lost.

"What's the job, sarge?" Asked Jag.

"Scouting. The commander asked for a group of four. Both him and commander Starsong will be with you" Jag put his helmet on to hide his grin, but Dagger couldn't quite suppress a groan. Ice gave him a three second stare, the kind that usually preceded a slap upside the head.

"Is there a problem, private?" He asked, his voice calm, and Dagger froze, obviously trying to think his way out of the corner he'd just worked himself into.

"Uh, no sergeant. It's just, well-" he looked to his brothers to support, all of whom had their helmets on by now and were remaining silent. "-We all saw what happened between the commander and commander Starsong."

Ices' eyes narrowed dangerously, but when he spoke again, his voice was calm, even reasonable. "I see. So you want a different assignment?" Before Dagger could agree or object, the sergeant continued " how about latrine duty for a week?"

Dagger paled. "On second thought, sergeant, scouting sounds just fine"

Ice nodded and patted his subordinate on the shoulder, thought to Jag it looked more like a warning slap. "That's what I thought, trooper. Now move out. They're waiting for you near the main entrance"

The four troopers headed towards the camp entrance at a steady jog, and over the shared channel, Jag heard Dagger say "thanks for the assist,vod" sounding sulky.

"Aw come on, Dagger. You had it completely under control" Jag replied.

"Di'kut" was the snarled response, and Jag didn't even attempt to conceal his laughter.

They found both commanders standing slightly beside the bases' main entrance, neither of them paying much attention to the other. As far as he could tell, the two commanders weren't even speaking to each other. "Reporting for duty, commanders" Tor said, saluting.

Drake returned the salute, and turned on his heel. "Let's go." Jag could already tell that this was going to be a long mission. A very long, boring mission. They headed out through the forest, moving quickly but with the appropriate amount of caution. Jag had heard that battle droids were absolute garbage when fighting in forests. If a large size of droids caught them though, it probably wouldn't matter.

The group travelled for three kilometres through fairly dense forest before they arrived at what looked to be a small mountain, or very rocky hill. Beside them ran a river, the water moving faster than he'd seen water move before. He could also hear a continual roar from up ahead, and mist coalesced in the air, forming water droplets on his armour. As far as Jag could see, the only way forwards was a narrow rocky ledge, with a tall stone wall on their right, and nothing but a long drop to the water below on their left.

"Well," he said, "we make a lovely target up here, that's for sure"

"Thanks. I really want to be reminded that there could be snipers watching us" muttered Sharp, from in front of him. In front of Sharp was Tor, then commander Starsong, then commander Drake.

"Think of it this way. If the droids shoot they'll probably go for Tor first and the rest of us get to go for a swim. His noble sacrifice will save the rest of us"

"That hurts my feelings, Jag" Tor replied. The others chuckled and kept moving. Despite his unconcerned tone, Jag was on full alert. There was no cover for them if things did go to hell. And usually, when a mission was going as quietly as it had so far, trouble couldn't be far off.

He opened a channel to the commander. "Sir. We're very exposed up here. Can you see the end of the ledge?"

"No. Keep an eye out" to the rest of them, on the open channel, he said " This ledge can't be much longer. Everyone stay close to the wall, and keep an eye on the opposite bank of the river" the four troopers acknowledged, and picked up the pace slightly. They'd all heard the edge in the commanders voice. And when the commander was on edge, everyone else got just a little bit more ready for action.

They were at what Jag guessed to be at least near halfway across the ledge when he heard three chooms of heavy laser cannons firing. He saw Drake pivot around, and heard him shout "get-" the rest of the order was lost as something very hot and explosive detonated slightly in front of and to the side of him. Then he was in the air, blown away from the ledge and toppling towards the fast-moving water below.

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Alanna knew as soon as she saw Drake that he hadn't gotten over the loss of his men. Nor was he feeling any more beneficial towards her. In the Force, he was a dark vortex of grief and violence. Like the first time she'd met him. Most of the clones walking past her exuded similar feelings of loss, anger, some pain. She wasn't surprised. The troopers were all very close, and they'd lost over a hundred men during the attack. She would have been shocked had there not been some reaction. Which explained Drakes' explosive reaction to her question...sort of. She knew he didn't like her, and wasn't exactly feeling warm and cuddly towards the other Jedi either.

Before today, however, he'd kept his dislike hidden behind his helmet. She wasn't sure if he was blaming the Jedi for the death of his men, and she didn't dare reach out to his conciousness. She half expected that every time she sensed his mood, she'd be sucked into the dark vortex and lost forever. Which was ridiculous, of course, but she'd rather not tempt fate. She headed to the main entrance of the camp, glancing nervously at the dark clouds that hung overhead. She had a feeling they were simply waiting for the most inconvenient time to pour rain and thunder down on them. If clouds could have malevolent intentions, then these ones definitely did. The gunships had already been grounded in preparation for the storm to come.

Master Adraxis had told her that she was to take Drake and a few others to scout enemy positions and report back six hours from now. Checking her chrono, she guessed it was just after noon, local time. Her master was staying behind to attempt to get through to Coruscant, so he could consult with the council. So far, he'd had no luck establishing a connection. For her part, Alanna was glad she was finally getting out of the camp. She hadn't gotten much sleep, but a little exercise would take her mind off the horrendous number of dead troopers. The only downer was getting stuck with Drake. Especially if he was going to continue being a giant poodoo-head.

His helmeted head turned towards her, and she felt a flash of annoyance, followed by weary resignation. Almost as if he was irritated that he had to look out for her. Like she was some kind of kid. She wasn't sure what hurt more: being seen as a burden, or having someone feel like she needed constant watching. 'Technically, I'm older than he is!' She thought, shooting a glare at the armoured commander. If he noticed, he gave no outward indication. She took up a position near the entrance close enough to talk, but far away enough so that both had their own space. When four troopers, she recognized them as Jag, Tor, Dagger and Sharp, arrived,Drake simply said "let's go", and turned towards the forest.

The trip, for the most part was silent, as the five clones and Alanna made their way through the forest and onto a rock ledge that jutted out from the side of a small mountain. To their left, was a river, and ahead was what sounded like a waterfall. The silence, along with the sense of wariness that emanated from the five clones did little to put her mind at ease. Then, a spike of danger sense had her spine stiffening. She heard something that sounded like a heavy laser of some sort firing, and saw Drake spin back towards her. "Get-" whatever else the commander had been about to say was lost in a roar of sound and a shock wave blew her clean off the ledge, along with chunks of rock, ranging from fist sized to half her size. She could see in her peripheral vision, Jag and the others tumbling through the air towards the water.

She used the Force to boost herself away from the rock wall, towards the middle of the lake, where the water was deeper. She hit the water hard, clamping her mouth shut to stop herself from gasping at the icy grasp of the water. She swam to the surface, her lungs screaming as she headed to oxygen. She gasped in a lungful of air as her head and torso broke the surface of the water. The current grabbed her before she had managed to get her bearings, and sent her along, further and further away from the site of the ambush, and the clones. Rather than try to fight the current, she simply tried to remain afloat. Eventually, she managed to work her way to the bank, and collapsed, utterly exhausted and shivering. 'Great. I avoid drowning just to die of hypothermia.' She thought, as she sprawled over the wet rocks and dirt.

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Drake felt the rock crumble beneath his boots, and knew he was about to go into the water. He saw Starsong and his four brothers fall into the river, and wasn't far behind. Somehow, he managed to continue to hold onto his rifle once he hit the water, though he wasn't sure how useful it would be. His armour dragged him to the bottom, even while the current tossed him around like a rag doll. He tried to limit the damage as the water bounced him against every shabla rock and boulder on the river bottom. He managed to scramble to the bank, groaning as he stood to his full height. He didn't think anything was broken, but it would certainly hurt for the next few hours.

He opened his comm to the rest of the group. "Jag, come in." Nothing but static answered him. "Tor? Sharp? Anyone, report in" nothing. He didn't think they were dead. They'd fallen into fairly deep water, but their bodysuits would have kept them warm and dry, and their armour seals would have kept them breathing for another hour or two. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings and realizing that the current had carried him farther than he'd thought. He must have tumbled at least a half a kilometre with the river current bumping and bruising him all the way. Which diminished his chance of being spotted by the droids that had fired on him, but it also meant he was now in enemy territory.

He really, really hoped his rifle was still in working condition. A quick once over of the weapon showed that nothing had been damaged, at least on the exterior, but he wasn't planning on taking the weapon apart at the moment. He moved along the rocky bank, keeping an eye out for droid patrols. If he'd been in charge of the droid forces that had ambushed them, he would have sent patrols to make sure there were no survivors. To make things worse, it looked like he was out of range of the base. His helmet comm was set to short-range, and he was unwilling to set it to longer range, simply to alert the base. Besides, the more he increased his comm range, the more likely it was that droids would intercept his transmission and come after him.

He continued along the bank, keeping a wary eye out for enemy patrols. His HUD showed nothing, not droid patrols nor any sign of his men. Even his bio monitors that kept track of the men under his command had gone grey, signalling that he was out of range. "Blast it. Can't a mission ever go right?" He grumbled to himself, scanning the shore once more. This time, he noticed a wet huddle of robes and blonde hair that were all too familiar. He advanced, until he was standing over an unconscious, soaking wet Jedi commander. A quick check of her vitals revealed that she was still alive, if unconscious and probably suffering from pneumonia. A dark voice whispered in his ear, urging him to just walk away. No one knew what had happened to them, and if Starsong turned up dead- Drake stomped that thought dead.

'She might be a Jedi, but she did save my shebs ' and if he returned the favour, it might help with the nagging sensation that she wasn't such a bad Jedi after all. He scooped her up, and scowled up at the dark clouds. More water was the last thing the commander needed at the moment. A small opening in the rock wall drew his attention, and upon further investigation revealed a medium-sized, unoccupied cave. He stripped off her outer robes, and laid her out on the stone floor. Then he went out looking for some dry wood to make a fire with.

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Alanna woke near hearing a crackling noise, and smelling burning wood. She could tell she was no longer on the bank of the river where she'd collapsed. Her robes were piled near a small fire, that was giving off a surprising amount of heat, and only a small amount of smoke. It looked like she was in some kind of cave, big enough for her to stand up in, and large enough that the light given off by the flames didn't reach the far wall. Obviously, droids hadn't found her, otherwise, she'd probably be dead. Which meant-"You're awake" the voice drew her attention to what must have been the cave entrance. Commander Drake stood there, a small bundle of wood under one arm, holding his rifle with his free hand.

"Drake? You saved me?" She said, sounding more shocked than she should have. The commander dropped the wood on the ground, near the fire, and removed his helmet, and stared at her.

"Of course. It's my duty, after all" he said, his voice and aura rather bitter.

"I'm glad you survived" she said, trying to diffuse the situation. The clone shrugged.

"It wouldn't have mattered if I hadn't. They can just replace me. You're valuable to the Republic" he said quietly, setting his helmet on the ground.

Alanna glared at him. "Don't say that!" She snapped, and Drake turned to stare at her, his eyes widening. "You're not expendable! Not to...the republic" she said, glad she'd caught herself in time.

What had she been about to say? 'Not to me? Yeah, the Order would really understand that. Would Drake? We hardly know each other. Technically, he's just a kid. Does he even know what I'd mean? Do I?' She looked away from the commanders' slightly befuddled expression, more to hide the red blush crawling up her face than to avoid further conversation. There was a series of clicks and she glanced over to see the commander lowering his chest and back plates to the ground. He proceeded to remove his lames, gauntlets, bracers, and shoulder bells. Those too joined his chest and back plates on the cave floor. Then he removed his black undersuit, and tossed it to the ground at her feet.

"Here. Put that on. It won't work if it's not hooked into the rest of the suit and armour, but it should keep you warm for a little while" he said, sounding like showing kindness to a non-clone was foreign ground to him. It probably was. He turned away, giving her some privacy so she could slip out of her damp tunic and replace it with the warm, black top half of the bodysuit.

"What about you?"

He shrugged. "I'll be fine. I was trained to endure wet and cold back on Kamino." Alanna found herself staring at his bare chest. He was heavily muscled, and she doubted he had an ounce of fat on him. In the center of his chest was a large, fist sized crater of a scar, that looked like it had been caused by a blaster cannon of some sort. She knew bacta could heal a lot, if the injured being received it in time, but she also knew Drake probably hadn't been that lucky.

If Drake was effected by the silent inspection she was giving his front, he didn't outwardly voice any objections. He simply turned and began wiping muck and grime off of his armour. That was when she noticed the four horizontal scars on his back, starting just below his shoulder blades. The last long, even scar ended just above the waistband of the lower half of his bodysuit. She knew of only one weapon that could leave scars like that. The weapon she carried at her side.

She must have made some sort of noise, because Drake straightened and turned towards her, his expression grim. She didn't even need to open her mouth to ask what had happened. Perhaps others had made the same noise when they noticed his scars. "Disciplinary wounds. Our former general...didn't like to be questioned"

He ambled over to her, and took a seat with his back against the wall beside her, and began to neatly stack the pieces of wood. Alanna carefully considered what she was about to say. She didn't need to be a Jedi to know that she was on thin ice. Drake had locked his face into neutrality, but his aura was a whirlwind of anger and pain. Taking a breath, she asked "what exactly happened? If you don't mind me asking, I mean"

Drakes' anger flared for a moment, before settling down into the same weary resignation she'd sensed earlier in the day. "I guess it would've come out sooner or later" he muttered.

"During our training on Kamino, we were...encouraged to believe that Jedi were these infallible demi-gods. I don't know where they got them, but we were even shown holos of Jedi in action. They were impressive" he said, glancing over at her. "My battalion was shipped out to Geonosis, with the first two hundred thousand troopers that were ready for deployment. That's where I got these." He gestured to the scars on his chest and arms. "Next we were assigned to general Neesh Nok. A Rodian Jedi. The mission was to take Ession. A planet that the separatists had taken in the early days of the war. We were aboard the Aken, an acclamator assault ship. General Nok liked to..." he paused, apparently looking for the right words. "He called it sparring, but really, I think he just liked to fight clones. He'd have us fight with him, sometimes hand to hand, sometimes durasteel bars"

"When we hit him, he'd start using the Force. If he thought we weren't trying hard enough, he used his lightsabre. Never enough to seriously injure or kill, but men were in medical for days afterwords" Drake swallowed, and Alanna was starting to regret asking him what had happened. "We were about a day out from Ession when I decided enough was enough. I confronted him in the gym. I told him if he continued, I'd report him. He just laughed, threw me around a bit with the Force, cracked a couple of ribs. Then he did this" he jerked his thumb at the scars on his back. Alanna thought she might be sick. The very idea that a Jedi would willingly inflict pain on clones that respected and looked up to him was beyond monstrous. It was sick and sadistic, and just...wrong. 'No wonder he hates Jedi. I would to if I'd been in his position'.

She didn't need, didn't want to hear any more, but it seemed that divulging the information had broken through a mental dam that Drake had set up. "Cross was the one who patched me up. He and the other medics did most of the work, and I think it got to him. He went up to the generals quarters that night and let him have it. Nothing physical of course, but Vyre was outside and he could hear Cross shouting from the other end of the hallway. When we landed the next day, Ice and his squad were ordered to storm an entrenched gun position. That's how Jag got his scar, and his name" Drake sighed, and seemed to be working up to something. "Near the end of the campaign, general Nok ordered fourth company into an engagement with a line of assault tanks, in order to distract them from firing on civilians. There was no cover, and Nok lead the civilians right across the fourth companies firing line." Drake closed his eyes, and his pressed his lips together tightly for a few seconds. "Nobody survived. You know the rest."

Alanna stretched out a hand and placed it on his surprisingly warm shoulder. It was a risk, she knew. After making him relive that, it was just as likely he'd rip off her arm than let her touch him. He tensed, but made no move to get away from her. "Drake. I know that me saying I'm sorry for Noks' actions and the deaths and pain of so many won't change a thing. But I am and I give you my word that you won't have to go through that again...you can believe me or not as you want. Maybe, later we could talk again?" She expected anger, or disbelief in his aura, but what she sensed surprised her. Respect.

Nothing as blinding as absolute trust or belief, but she could feel that her words, her willingness to listen had earned some measure of respect from him. If that wasn't a victory, she didn't know what was. "Thank you, commander. I-I think I'd like that" he said softly.

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As soon as Jag managed to crawl from the punishing waters of the river,into the water that fell from the sky, he glanced at his the vitals of his brothers offered by his HUD. Commander Drakes' was grey, indicating out of range. And, as far as he knew, commander Starsong wasn't wearing any armour. The rest of the group, Sharp, Tor and Daggers' bio-signs all showed up in the green. "Everybody check in"

"Ow..." that was Dagger. "Next time, how about we skip being blown into the river?"

"Beats being shot" retorted Jag.

"Seconded" said Tor, then "where are you guys?"

Jag glanced around. To his left were trees, and few hilly areas, but there was no sign of any droids. Either they'd moved on, assuming the clones and the commander were dead, or Jag and his brothers had been dragged up river by the current.

"Somewhere with lots of trees. Opposite the ledge. North of the ambush location" Sharp reported.

Jag turned, realizing that his location was basically the same, except for the hills. "Okay, vode look for hills. We'll regroup at my position, and start looking for the commanders" the other three acknowledged, and Jag waited, checking that he hadn't lost any of his equipment. His rifle had survived the trip undamaged, which was good, and he still had his rations and med kit, which was better. A crackle of branches underfoot, caught his attention, and he checked his buckets' wraparound vision. Sharp was approaching, followed by Dagger. Switching back to frontal view, he saw Tor coming from ahead of his position.

"Okay. We'll stick together, and keep an eye out for droid patrols. We can forget the scouting mission, I think. The Seps already know we're here"

"Shouldn't we call it in?" Ask Sharp, checking his rifle.

"Can't." Responded Tor. "Because if we extend our comm range to reach the base, there's a chance-"

"That Seppie forces will intercept. Got it" interrupted Sharp. "So we're on our own"

"Can't be that bad. Commandos' and ARCs do it all the time" said Dagger, who was facing away from the group, keeping an eye on forest.

"They're trained for that, mir'osik" said Sharp, and Dagger lifted his hand, a finger extended in a universally rude gesture.

"Doesn't matter now" Jag interrupted, before they could continue. "We can't call in support, not without giving away our position. We need to find the commanders and get back to base in one piece. That's all that matters"

Tor grunted, which might have meant he agreed, or not. It was hard to tell with him. The four of them moved out, checking their flanks and rear continually. Just because the droids that had shot at them were gone, didn't mean there wasn't more of them lurking around. Or waiting for them further along the bank. They'd been walking for maybe five minutes, when Sharp, who was just behind Jag stopped. "Got something. Across the river, two o'clock." The others turned, and Jag noticed what Sharp had probably seen. A flicker of light from a cave mouth, given off by a fire, most likely.

"Copy that. Let's go take a look. Rifles ready, just in case" Jag said, and eased his way into the river. The falling rain and thunder would probably mask any move they made, but it never hurt to make sure. He sank to the bottom, struggled against the current. His armour and bodysuit kept him warm and dry, but he couldn't afford to let the water carry him away from the cave.

The others hit the bottom beside him, and started struggling towards the far bank. 'Could be worse. At least there's nothing shooting at us while we're in the water' he thought. The four of them managed to cross the river without the current shoving him along too far. The others were right behind him, readying their rifles. "Tor, Sharp. You go in first, give a shout if you need back up"

"Copy" both troopers took up positions on either side of the cave entrance, paused for three seconds, before storming inside.

"All clear, Jag. We found the commanders." A little tension eased out of Jags' muscles, and he nodded at Dagger.

"Copy that, Sharp. Are they alright?"

A new voice, Drakes' joined the conversation. "We're fine, Jag. Coming out now." Tor, Sharp and commander Drake left the cave, and the commander gestured towards the cave. "Commander Starsong is getting dressed" Jag felt his eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Uh. What were you two doing in there, sir?" He asked.

"I found her on the bank of the river. I wasn't about to let her freeze to death, so I removed her robes, and let her borrow my bodysuit" the commander explained.

Dagger elbowed him hard, and Jag could almost feel the commanders scowl. A minute later, the commander herself came out of the cave, her outer robes still looking a little damp, but drier than they must have been after being tossed into the river. "Good to see you in one piece, commander" Jag said, saluting, and Allanna smiled.

" It's good to see you too, Jag"

Drake motioned for the squad to fall in and move out. It took them about an hour and a half for them to move throughout the forest and arrive at the base. "Dismissed. I'll report to the general" said Drake, and Tor, Sharp and Dagger left, going to get some food.

Jag was the last to leave, and he saw Drake salute the commander. "Commander Starsong. I apologize for my recent behaviour. It was unprofessional and uncalled for" Jag felt his jaw drop. 'Did Drake just apologize to a Jedi?' Jag turned on his heel, wondering if maybe, he'd taken a blow to the head when he'd fallen in the river.

He joined up with the rest of the squad, where Ice was talking with the others. They all seemed to be in a good mood, despite the pouring rain. "Something I should know about?" He asked. Ice grinned broadly.

"We just got word. Reinforcements are en route. The fifty sixth infantry and the hundred and tenth armoured."

Jag felt a grin creeping across his own face."Honestly, sarge, that's the best news I've had all day"