I dedicate this chapter to my friend, Slysenran0408 for his exceptional outlook on life.

Twenty Five

"Where were you then? The night it went down?"

They were sitting around the campfire. Reed had made sure Wolffe got a tent placed next to his, just far enough away from the other workers so they could talk about their past.

In private.

"Trip Zip. I'd just completed a run to the mid rim." His face then saddened, "I was so naïve commander. I thought it just involved the Jedi, but it went further than that."

Wolffe sat forward listening intently, "what do you mean, further?"

"It was bad brother, really bad," he looked up into Wolffe's eyes.

"The order was to eliminate the Jedi Reed, no one else."

"Well, someone needed to tell that to the boys in blue. They went on a rampage with Skywalker at the Jedi Temple. They murdered kids, civilians, politicians, anyone who got in their way, even their own if they dare question the order. Adenn, completely adenn."

"I guess the Jedi Younglings were considered one and the same with the Masters. But politicians? I wouldn't have thought they'd get themselves mixed up in grubby Jedi business.""

They both sat silent, listening to the fire crackle, their faces warmed by the heat.

Reed continued, the flames beguiling, fanned by the truth that needed to be told.

"Fox called me in to help transport one badly injured off world."

"So Fox is still there, I should have known." Wolffe laughed low, "he was always ori'buyce kih'kovid."

"No, no. You have him all wrong. He kept his osik together that night."

Wolffe nodded, suitably chastised.

"Which one?"

"Pardon?"

"Which pollie did you shift?"

"People's Rep for Oriis."

Wolffe furrowed his brow and rubbed his cybertronic eye, "she was Kenobi's blood wasn't she? I met her once."

Then he remembered the encounter. The woman had been fascinated with his eye, saying her father invented the model. He also remembered the argument that ensued with the Jedi general, "maybe that's the reason she was targeted."

Reed said nothing. He knew it wasn't the only reason she had been attacked but Wolffe had been right in saying she was the same as Kenobi.

Skylar was Force sensitive.

Reed had spent hours thinking through that night. He never got the full story from Fox, only that she was in the Jedi Library that night with the baby and that Piia along with Rex had been slaughtered by the hand of the Chosen One.

They sat, in quiet contemplation before Wolffe cleared his throat and asked the one question burning in the back of his mind.

"Do you know anyone else who made it out?"

"Cody's still there, poor utreekov. He wouldn't know any better, nuna pecked the entire war by Kenobi. Fox obviously. Gree's kyrayc, bought it on Kashyyyk and I left before I heard anything about Bly or Jet. But," he turned to Wolffe, "you know Rex is dead?"

The last three words were as hard to say as they were to hear.

"Rex?" Wolffe stood, "I thought you said the 501st were at the Temple?"

Reed shook his head, "I told you, its bad brother, haven't you seen any of it on the holonet?"

Wolffe then paced around the fire pit like the pack animal he was.

"No," he said absently. Reed watched as he deciphered the information, he knew what he was thinking, fek, he'd thought it often enough himself.

Rex had inadvertently been a symbol throughout the length of the war.

He simply, appeared invincible; second in charge to the rogue Skywalker, he would always return, sometimes worse for wear, but no matter how bad the war was going, there would be a collective sigh at the barracks whenever the captain of the 501st marched in.

As long as Rex was around, they all stood a chance.

"You were on Cato Neimoidia weren't you, when the order was given?"

Wolffe swung around and glared at Reed who, to his credit, didn't flinch. They may have left the military, but the flight commander was still a higher ranked officer and deserved no less than the respect his old commission demanded.

A question had been asked, and a line had been overstepped.

.

"What just happened in there?"

"Exactly what I said."

Niner walked behind Darman as he strode back into ARCA barracks. He reached out and grabbed his arm and swung him around to face him.

"You can't be serious?"

"What? You heard Holy Roly. They want us to find Jedi and that is exactly what we're going to do."

"Have you even thought about this? I mean, more than just in the shower?" Niner dropped his voice, "what if we lead the Empire straight to them, huh? What if they bug us and we lead them straight to Kal?"

Darman shrugged his arm free, "do you think I am a complete di'kut? The only people I will hand over are the Jetii that are living there."

"Fek Dar!"

"No, not 'fek Dar,'" he replied sarcastically, "Fek Kal! He's the one who has put everyone in this position; he's the one who let the Jedi in. I don't plan on selling out my brothers."

"Do you think Kal would have brought them there if they were a threat? Think about it will ya; why-would-he-allow-them-there when he knows how we all feel about them? He must have a reason Darman."

Niner felt like he was chasing his tail.

The unimaginable had just happened.

Roly Melusar had just given them permission to take a ship to Mandalore. He still couldn't get his head around the logistics.

"Well then, let's find out just what that reason is shall we? I'm not getting into this with you here ner vod. Lets just get a ship, get the fek off this rock and we'll work the rest out later."

"What about Rede?"

Darman walked out in front, refusing to look at his sarge.

"What about him?"

Niner dropped his voice lower. "He's Sparti Darman. He's not one of us."

"Time will tell won't it? To be honest, I really don't care. We'll deal with it when we have to okay?"

"What exactly are you saying?" Niner was losing his patience.

Darman then turned around and the hurt, anger, disappointment and fear all flickered across his face distorting it momentarily before he regained control.

"Collateral damage sarge, remember?"

It wasn't like Darman to be malicious.

Niner stood in the corridor dumbfounded, and watched as his friend continued on down the hall.

It was like a switch had been flipped and Darman had changed. Niner couldn't keep up; he was a nervous wreck when it came to his oldest friend.

He spent nights remembering how Darman was once the easy going, 'she'll be right,' go to, munitions expert; nothing could rattle him.

Then.

Now he was the ticking time bomb, ready to blow at any given moment. One minute not interested in anything to do with Kyrimorut, the next he was leading a mission there.

Niner walked in behind him, and started going through his pack. Saying nothing for fear of being overheard he knew what he had to do.

He would contact the clan on Mandalore and warn them of their arrival. His bucket was wired and he could quietly comm Kal en route.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Grab your osik Rede, we're bugging out in ten."

"Where?"

"Home ner vod."

"You know I don't like it when you speak like that Darman. Anyway," he said looking over at Niner, "I thought we were already home?"

Darman laughed out loud and shut his pack.

"Nine minutes and counting."

Rede moved quickly over to his locker and began pulling out his gear when the anaemic looking barracks lieutenant popped his head around the corner. Wearing the new grey flannel of the Empire, he was one of the more detested non-clone soldiers assigned to keep an eye on the Commando's.

The animosity ran both ways.

"Hey, hot shots, change of orders," he said, flipping the data pad on the bunk next to Darman.

"WHAT?"

"You heard me, read it and weep, freaks," he replied quickly as he disappeared before the commando could throw an arm at his face.

"Remind me to kill him later," Darman said annoyed.

Niner moved forward and grabbed the data pad and opened the screen but Darman snatched it out of his hands.

"What the fek? Abafar?" He threw it back at his sergeant who then scrolled through the intel.

Niner sighed, "they have an informant who says there is a clone living there."

"We're commando's not fekking baby sitters!" his voice boomed throughout the barracks, "send in the meat cans if they want to catch one of their own!"

Niner looked up and handed the pad over to him to read for himself, "can you just stop for a sec? Read it Dar, apparently he's RC."

Could it be?

They looked at each other asking the question.

What were the odds?

"Should we tell Delta?"

"No, let's just keep this to ourselves. For now."

"Fek," Darman said as he looked into Niner's eyes.

"Shut up and suit up," was all he got in response.

.

"Well?"

Wolffe stared into the flames, the fire reflected in his artificial eye.

"No, I was half way home. Can you believe it? Koon sent us home, most of the pack. Ordered to Coruscant when the most important order of all came over the comm. I wasn't there when Jag followed through."

"Could you have done it?"

One question, only one answer.

For the second time Wolffe stood.

"Fek no!"

"Udessi ner vod, udessi."

Wolffe stared at the other pilot and composed himself. There was no way around it, with the silver cybertronic eye and the scar running longitudinally down his face, Wolffe was more intimidating than Reed ever remembered. Having never served directly under the commander, the only contact the pollie jockeys had with the combat men was via the weekly updates on the internal network when they was assigned back on Coruscant.

The self appointed 'Wolffe pack' were a bunch of the fiercest fighter pilots the Kaminoans had ever produced. Known throughout the Republic for their unmitigated dedication to their general, it would have been safe to say that every pilot in the GAR aspired to be as good as any one of them.

Staring into the fire, Wolffe then unburdened himself.

Reed had sensed it the minute he laid eyes on his former commander.

"Koon was the best of the best. I know they talk about Skywalker and Kenobi being at the forefront during the war, but Plo was the quiet achiever. Some say he was a better Jedi than the two of them put together. I know he was a better tactician that's for sure. He never lost his faith in us. Not once Reed, not once! We were a team." His voice began to crack and Reed knew better than interrupt, he knew that Wolffe carried more than a scruffy coat on his back. "I remember the order and backing up the codes before everything I'd been fighting for was lost. I dropped back and let the men push on before I reprogrammed the navi and punched the button. I'm a deserter Reed. I left my command, my men! It's inexcusable, but I couldn't defend something I no longer believed in. You understand don't you?"

"I hear you loud and clear brother."

There was nothing more to be said.

Reed had also been through the same gamut of emotions, questioning his decision to leave and head to Ilbeos time and again.

The two would become the best of friends.

They didn't know it yet, but other wingmen would arrive at the plantation planet. Apparently the stories of the clear skies and the tall trees were true and they would each independently seek out their escape and route there.

Finding a new place to call home.

.