So, these next two chapters are ones I wrote a while back; I'm going to post them while I work on the escape/mission beginning chapter. Sorry for the delay :( but hopefully these are okay.

Preparations

* * * Chet * * *

The General had another one of her nightmares, but she was okay after I helped her calm down. It was incredibly sad to see someone like her, normally full of life and all that, to be reduced to a lost, shattered wreck. I was almost crying myself, but I was a Captain of the best squad in the GAR - I couldn't break down and cry.

Anyways, after that, the night went smoothly. Scout shook me awake in the morning, and with my brothers' help moved the General to her own room. I didn't tell them what the General had told me because I wasn't sure if she'd want me to, so they assumed she'd been sick or up late most of the night without asking questions, figuring I'd tell them eventually.

They got right down to work. Lex was given the apparently highly-prized job of carrying the General, after a whisper-shouted agreement about who got that privilege. Finally, the others agreed to let him carry her if they got to help in some way, too. Scout and Vick, our two best cooks, decided to make breakfast for when she woke up, Torch was put in charge of the juice, Flash and Darek were to wash the dishes for her as long as they didn't start slopping the dishwater everywhere, Cade was going to do the laundry and Sparks the ironing, and Ace was coerced into straightening up the lounge after much grumbling. I was in charge of straightening up the rec room, after I helped Lex.

After we set the General in her own bed, Lex quickly spruced up the vase of fake flowers the General had sitting on her nightstand and set the radio to play some music.

My attention was caught by the array of drawings the General had pasted on her walls (all slipped inside lamination sheets, most likely in case of another sprinkler incident).

She was incredible. She'd drawn several of what I figured was the Jedi Temple, animals, landscapes, and different ships, but most were of clones or a tall, long-haired man with laughing green eyes that had a lightsaber dangling from his waist. Not a single one was about her. I stepped closer and noticed some had even been labeled, mostly with names.

I recognized a lot from what she told me last night about the massacre – Jas, Tank, Wings. They all looked distinct, drawn with close attention to those little details you had to notice to tell us clones apart. It was easy to tell how much she'd loved them, which made me want to tear each and every Seppie apart for taking them away from her.

Lex joined me when everything was done to his satisfaction and looked at them with me. "She's very good," he noted in a whisper. "Omwati are known for their artistic skills, though, so I suppose it's not that much of a surprise."

I felt sort of guilty about telling the General Lex's own sad story, but then again, Lex probably thought she already knew by reading our files. I only knew because when I'd picked her up from the freighter the day she'd arrived, they'd been sticking out of a pocket, still unopened.

I nodded, agreeing with Lex. "She's really good," I muttered back.

Then Lex blinked. "Aren't those of us?" he asked, pointing to a row of unfinished sketches tacked above her head.

It was us. Wow. I felt a burst of surprise and warmth that we were included in what were obviously some of her favorite things and people.

I looked for mine and found it near the front. She'd drawn me laughing at something, which made an answering smile form on my face. "She's got us down pat," I said proudly. Every drawing looked more like us than we did.

"Indeed," Lex agreed, studying his own portrait, which was of him reading a book, forehead creased in a serious frown and eyes intent on the page. "Wonder when she drew them?"

Probably late at night, when she was afraid to sleep because of her nightmares, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

We examined them for another minute or so before Lex suggested we leave so we didn't freak her out. We slipped out the door silently, keeping an eye on the General, but she didn't so much as twitch she was so deeply asleep.

"Let's go make sure Flash and Darek aren't destroying the place," Lex sighed, wincing as a faint CRASH echoed down the corridor.

"I think we're a little too late for that."

Later that morning…

We'd finished our jobs in record time (thankfully, no dishes had been broken, although one plate had a rather big crack in it now) and in an effort to not mess up what we'd just cleaned, we met in the rec room for some sparing matches. We wanted to go to town later and visit Norah's, but the General wasn't awake yet.

We formed a wide ring around the first two contestants. Torch and Vick were facing off about five feet apart in the middle of the ring, armed with long wooden rods roughly the length of a lightsaber and confiscated from the broom closet (the mop heads had been taken off, although Torch assured me they could be put back on.) Both of them had padding protecting the specific Zones the General had shown us. Padding might have been too strong a word – they basically just had pillows tied around them with belts, cable, or old rags. I have to say, they looked hilarious in pillow helmets.

"Five on Torch," Darek muttered to Flash.

"I'll take that bet!" Flash replied.

Lex was acting as referee, and at the drop of his arm they lunged at each other.

They'd both given their solemn word to not go for anything other than the Zones, and they were moving slowly enough that any misaimed swing could be blocked, so no one was getting hurt. It was good, clean fun.

"Got your leg," Vick panted, as he scored at hit on Torch's right knee.

Torch growled and started hopping on his un-shopped-off leg, which looked really hard with all those pillows and the rod, but he managed. A few minutes later, with Torch left-arm-less and Vick right-arm-less, it was starting to heat up.

"I'm winning!" Flash crowed.

Vick was grinning as he swung the rod at Torch's right arm. "You're…losing," he gasped gleefully.

"Am not," Torch hissed through clenched teeth as he blocked the shot, wobbling on his one leg.

"Actually, Torch, you are losing," Lex corrected. "A hit to your right arm or your head will lose you the match."

"Fine," Torch sighed. His thumb twitched, and as he spun his staff, we saw that Torch had taped his lighter to it and had just turned it on. Flames raced along the top half of the rod, and Torch laughed. His brightly-colored hair matched the hues of the fire perfectly, so that it almost looked like he was made out of fire himself.

"Muahahahaha! Attack me now!" he cackled, spinning it so that it looked like a blurred circle of fire. "I am Torch, Lord of the Flame!"

"Cheater," Vick accused, jerking out of range.

"I'm not cheating," Torch protested, smiling broadly, acrobatically twirling his flaming staff while not getting roasted with skill only he could achieve. "The rules didn't say anything about not lighting staffs on fire."

"True," Vick agreed. Thinking fast, he lunged for Scout, snatched his glass of water from his hand, and drenched Torch and his Stick of Fiery Death, which was now steaming pathetically. "And they didn't say anything about putting out fires, either, Lord of the Flame."

Torch huffed, lifting his dripping hair out of his eyes. "Come on. I was just getting into the groove."

Lex stepped forward. "Vick wins," he announced, drawing a groan from Darek and a cheer from Flash. "On account of the Lord of the Flame's unfair advantages."

"Be that way," Torch said, sighing dramatically, setting down his singed staff. "Good fight, though, rookie," he teased good-naturedly as he untied his pillow padding. Vick rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Who wants to face Vick?" Lex asked, blue eyes searching. Scout raised a hand and stepped forward just as a small, light blue form slid through the door and stood next to me.

"So, what'd I miss?" the General asked, tugging at the hem of her nondescript sand-colored tunic. The dark shadows under her eyes were noticeably lighter, and she didn't look as sick as she used to.

I shrugged. "Eh, not much. Torch just got creamed by Vick. They're getting really good at your lightsaber forms."

She grinned, flashing her white teeth. "Good…Thanks for everything, by the way."

"You're welcome. You're looking much better. Did it help much?"

"More than you know," she said. "That was the best sleep I had in ages, and that breakfast was delicious. Um…did you tell…?"

"Nope. I figured you'd tell them when you wanted to."

"Thanks," she replied gratefully. "What's the plan for today?"

"Not much planned. We wanted to stop by Norah's, swim or something, but that was about it."

"Works for me."

Scout, putting on his pillow-padding, stumbled and started to topple over. The General reached out a hand, and a yelping Scout was gently shoved back upright by an invisible hand. Nine heads swiveled around curiously, spotted the General, and all started talking at once.

"The General's awake!" Flash cheered.

"How'd you sleep?" Darek asked.

"You okay, sir?" Lex inquired.

"…Good morning," Ace grudgingly muttered like the morning was anything but good. But he said something, which for him was a huge improvement.

Sparks nodded in greeting.

"Was breakfast okay?" said Scout anxiously.

"Did we wake you up?" Vick mumbled sheepishly.

Cade beamed. "Hello, sir!"

"Did you see my awesome fire-stick-thing?" Torch asked hopefully.

The General blinked. "Hello to everyone, I slept fine, I'm okay, breakfast was amazing, you didn't wake me up and sorry Torch, but I missed it," she replied without missing a beat. Those Omwati photographic memoires can sure come in handy.

"Aww," Torch sighed, his face falling. Then he perked up. "Well, I'll show it to you sometime."

"Do we want to continue our sparing?" Lex called out ot the group as a whole.

"Nah," Scout decided. "Let's hit the town. I've been wanting some doughnuts."

"Muffins for me," Torch chimed in. "Maybe rent some holovids to watch?"

"Hot chocolate," Vick suggested, rubbing his hands together.

"Caf," Ace rumbled, his intense ice-blue eyes looking up from his Deece rifle. We may be clones, but he's got a way deeper voice than any of us have.

The General grinned. "Alright, then, let's go."

* * * Mera * * *

You know those mornings where you just wake up happy, and you don't know why? This was one of those mornings (after I'd gotten over my flush of embarrassment of falling asleep on Chet and the realization that's he'd probably carried me here).

I practically bounced out of bed – I'd even sung to myself. I felt so much freer without my nightmares hanging over me and someone to help me get over them, I can't even describe it. And waking up to my own breakfast arranged nearly on the table, my flowers spruced up (I'd brought them with me to Telarus to add a little color and personality to my new rooms), and the chores already done was wonderful. I got that warm, tingly feeling you get when you know someone cares, the one that makes you feel that you could withstand anything the galaxy threw at you as long as you've got people who care.

What made it even better was that it wasn't raining again. On our way to Norah's, a few pale, watery rays filtered through the clouds, making everything brighter and more colorful. Even the gloomy locals seemed to perk up, waving to each other and calling out greetings. There were even streamers and banners decorating the streets, like Norah had predicted.

"Festival's soon," I said to Chet. He nodded, staring curiously at a purple flag hanging over someone's door.

"Only three days until we bang out of here," he said quietly.

The plan was to "bang out" (military lingo for "leave for the mission") during the few hours of Festival, since it would be chaotic and crowded and easy to slip away unnoticed. A pretty good plan. The only issue was blending during those first few hours – people dressed up for Festival. Plus, we had supplies we needed to smuggle out of town somehow.

I turned to Norah for help with the costume bit. The guys insisted on doing their own costumes themselves, not liking the idea of being human guinea pigs. Apparently they'd picked up some stuff on their infiltration missions, so they could make theirs themselves. On the other hand, I had basically nothing to work with, and going as a Jedi probably wouldn't be the best idea on a Sep planet, so when we reached Norah's, I asked if she'd help me get ready. She pounced on the idea happily.

"I know exactly what to do with you," she told me excitedly. "And it's a surprise, so don't even think of asking!"

While my men stuffed themselves with free samples, Norah dragged me to the back room (which was a tiny living space) and whipped out a measuring tape. "This is doing to be so freaking awesome," she cheered as she wrote down my measurements. Then she raced to a drawer and pulled out several different kinds and colors of fabric. "Close your eyes," she commanded. "I don't want you to see which one I decide on!" After a while she picked one out and started pinning it on me, muttering to herself.

This went on for three hours.

Still, I had to admit it - although I'd never say it out loud, I was actually enjoying it. Jedi didn't bother about priming and preening or really spending time on themselves, and when it wasn't annoying the heck out of me it felt sort of nice to have someone fuss over me.

Eventually, though, my men started getting impatient.

"Hey, it's getting dark out," Chet's voice called, accompanied by a rapping on the door. Norah had insisted on keeping my costume a surprise for them, too. "We need to get home. We've already finished the rest of the errands."

"Fine," Norah sighed. "I think I've got everything I need to make your costume, which, by the way, is going to be amazing! Don't open your eyes until I put this away."

Rustling sounds. A drawer opening and shutting. Clattering noises.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

There was Norah, standing in front of me with yellow lekku twitching and wearing a triumphant smile. She helped me off the stool she'd made me stand on and shooed me out the door. "Hurry up, I've got to get working on your dr – uh, costume!"

"…What was that about?" Torch asked, bewildered, as we found ourselves clustered outside in the street in front of Norah's shop, facing a closed door and drawn curtains.

I shrugged, just as clueless as he was. "Don't look at me."

So, I hope this was was okay...it's more of a filler than any actual plot advancement, but hopefully it worked. Next chapter will be a filler as well, but by then I'll have finished the mission-beginning chapter.

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