Captured Separatist Landing Zone

15 days after the start of the Farquar Invasion

0900 Hours, GST Time

General Kenobi was definitely what Headshot expected, and a little more than that. Although there was one thing that surprised him: Obi-Wan Kenobi was short. He was dwarfed by the 2nd Airborne and Hunter Company, but still maintained an aura of authority that no other CO, Joss, Lion, Gutter, or even Grizzly had. Of course, he was a Jedi. But it was still interesting.

Headshot flanked Commander Grizzly along with Lion, Tirle, and Joss as they made their way through the crowd of paratroopers spread across the Sep's landing platform that served as the rendezvous point. It was raised using thick cylindrical supports that were several meters high. They lad climbed up using cables to reach the top, only to find a whole battalion of troopers, fresh and ready to fight. It was a reassuring sight for the waning Hunter Company, although Headshot missed the privacy of his squad in the sea of orange and white armor.

Kenobi turned as the five clones approached him. A grim smile spread across his face. "Hello, Commander," he said , sticking out his hand for Grizzly to shake. He complied, then removed his helmet. "Commander 3323, General," Grizzly told him, raising his hand in a salute. His men followed suit. General Kenobi nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you have a name, Commander?" he asked. Headshot was surprised. Many Jedi, he had heard, just considered the clones as resources, not even thinking about names. "Yes, sir," he replied. "I'm called Grizzly. These are my men," he turned and named them each one-by-one: "Tirle, Lion, Joss, and Headshot." Kenobi nodded and shook hands with each of them. Surprise overtaking him once more, Headshot numbly shook the general's hand.

Bet you'd love to do this, Six-two...

Six-two had told Headshot and Chit-Chat that he had always wanted to serve under General Kenobi. And now here Six-two's former best friend was shaking hands with him. Ha ha.

"Well, Grizzly, you and your men get some rest," Kenobi told Grizzly. The commander nodded.

"Sir, yes sir!" he saluted once more and turned around. His entourage followed him, making a narrow path through the Airborne to reach a small circle of ammo crates near the edge of the platform where Hunter Company was located. Headshot went to sit next to Chit-Chat, Six-two, and Sev. As he did, Six-two stood abruptly, cutting off whatever Chit-Chat had been about to say to him. "I'll talk to you later, Chit," he said, picking up his bucket and glaring at Headshot. Then the trooper walked away to sit next to Chaw and Juol.

Sev sighed, and Headshot rolled his eyes as he sat across from his two friends. He stared blankly where Six-two had just sat, but was jarred out if his thoughts by Chit-Chat.

"One day," he said. "I'm going to smack that di'kut upside the head for being an insolent shabuir."

"Where'd you learn Mando?" Headshot asked, pulling out some tasteless ration sticks and taking a bite.

"Our lovely paratroopers," he said. "They picked it up from the commandos, who picked it up from Cay'val Dare or something."

"Cuy'val Dar," Sev corrected suddenly. Headshot and Chit-Chat both stared at him. They're eyebrows were raised.

"Okay," Headshot said. "Where did you learn any of that?"

Sev glanced down at his droid leg, what he usually did when he was nervous.

"I have to learn this stuff," he admitted carefully.

"Why?" Chit-Chat asked. "Going to start going undercover on Mandalore or something?"

"No," Sev replied, scowling. "After this mission, I'm getting cross-trained."

Chit-Chat simply gaped, and Headshot nearly burst out laughing.

"Cross-trained,Sev?" he asked. "As in...?"

"I'm getting trained to become an RC," he tapped the side of his helmet. "Commando."

Silence followed. And it stayed that way for a long time.

Finally, Chit-Chat shattered it.

"What?" he asked. "You're getting trained as a... commando? A born-again Mando? Why?"

Sev nodded, his face pained. "General Kenobi asked to speak with me earlier, when we first reached here." he told them quietly. "And he said that I couldn't serve in infantry with this thing," he nodded towards his mechanical leg. "But I was still good enough to serve. So he's going to have me moved into the Special Ops brigade. General Zey. ARC planks."

Headshot felt sick. This seemed worse than loosing a brother in combat. He's going and we can't see him. Again. But he's still alive. He'll survive this...

"We don't get many chances to serve with spec ops, Sev," Chit-Chat said, his voice betraying his shock and... anger. "We don't see you again. How do we know you've been killed?"

Sev sighed. "I'm sorry, Chit, Headshot. But you'll know everything about my condition, don't worry."

"And how?" Headshot snapped. He instantly regretted it. His brother had just lost his leg and his place among his brothers. But he didn't apologize. Not yet.

Sev sighed. "Null ARCs. Devious little spooks that the Kaminoans tried to terminate. They were the first batch of clones. A Cuy'val Dar, Skirata, saved 'em. They're like his private army. If you ask them nicely, they'll keep you updated on me. Okay?"

Still silence. Of course, Headshot had seen the Nulls on Kamino. He just didn't know much about them.

I did meet Jaing and... what's his name? Korm? Kom'rk before on the Firefight. He decided he would ask, although nicely may not be the method.

They had no more time to speak, because Kenobi's voice was loudly shouting orders. Immediately, the company stood, ready at arms.

"What's going on now?" Ril grumbled over the comms of the helmet. Joss shrugged. "I dunno."

But that question was answered in a way none of them liked.

Hyena-class droid bombers were whizzing over the platform. Headshot could hear them speaking in their droid language – seriously, why did the Baktoid engineers give these things their own language? - and that gave him the initiative to get down. Three shells descended rapidly from the sky. Two missed their mark. One, though, hit the center of the platform.

Headshot went flying. None of the shrapnel from the platform had hit him, but the sheer force of the blast forced him sprawling into the jungle below. The rush of color, the confusing swirl of screaming, and the buzzing of the droids mixed together in his mind. It was too much. As he hit the muddy jungle floor, he blacked out.

"Headshot, can you hear me?" the insistent voice kept nagging at his head. But how was that possible? Headshot was dead. He had hit the jungle floor and felt something snap! within him. But the voice kept coming back.

His eyes opened, and he saw trees around him. Colorful, brightly-leaved, jungle trees.

So there is an afterlife for us. Huh.

He sat up. He gazed around, trying to regain his senses. His head hurt like hell. His right arm felt numb. He tried to move it, but a sharp stab of pain forced him to stop trying.

The never thought the afterlife would force him to keep his injuries. Then he deduced it: This wasn't an afterlife. He was still on Farquar. And his brothers were looking for him.

"Headshot? Ner'vod? We're are you?" That voice belonged to Joss. So now he was beginning to refer to him as a brother again. That was... good? He didn't know.

He tapped on the side of his helmet to try and regain his comm signal. Static. He tried again. Again. This time, it worked.

"Joss?" he said, his voice raspy. His throat was parched. Dry rations didn't help out a bad throat.

There was some scuffling on the other end, and a few whoops and cheers. "Yeah, it's me, Headshot," he said. "You're still with us, so that's a good sign. Can you give us a location?" Headshot glanced around at his surroundings. "If deep in the jungle doesn't count, then no."

He heard someone sigh on the other end. "Look, Headshot," it was Six-two. "Just wait there. We've got about an hour and thirty to find you. Kenobi wants to pull out now, but he's giving us time and taking the 2nd and the others out slowly so we can catch up. So don't move, okay?"

Six-two was gruff, but Headshot was secretly pleased. He had began to speak to him again. The ice between the two as beginning to melt. "I will. Don't worry," he said, grinning, then shut off the comms.

His brothers were coming to find him. This was a good sign that whatever wound had been made could be healed.