Chapter 37 - From the Forge, Part 1
(Summary: Rebels spin-off to Family Bonds are Strongest, in which both Depa Billaba and her student Caleb Dume escape the Purge, courtesy of their microchip-free and still-loyal clone troopers...)
After a good night, spent catching up with General Billaba and getting to know her new Padawan learner, both Grey and Styles were ready to get back to some serious business. Not the War, although that was the second most serious thing in their lives at the moment - no, the pair had more personal mission on their agenda, to complete before the Jedi got up in the morning.
"Suggestions for a starting place, Big Mouth?" Styles muttered as he pulled on his armor.
"Yeah, I'd go with the newest shiny - one one five seven. Speaks just as highly of General Ti as the other boys, but he gets a look in his eye when he does, something that tells me he'll be more receptive to our message." The corporal checked his blaster, continuing to speak under his breath. "After that, I'd move onto the pair, two three six four and two three six five - they transferred in from a group that had some training with a member of the Wolfpack..."
After getting all of Big Mouth's recommendations, Styles brought the info back to Grey, who nodded as he took it all in. Then the Commander called for CT-1157, and ordered him to go inform General Billaba that they were ready to roll out.
The list was only a starting place, clones who would be watched closely to decide whether they could be brought in on the secret or not. Grey had Big Mouth keep 1157 on a short leash, both to make sure the kid stayed out of trouble and to see how he interacted with the Jedi.
Sharing a laugh with the small Padawan, Caleb Dume, was a point on 1157's favor.
Defending his unconscious body in the following battle, against orders, was promising enough for Grey to make his decision.
"Thought I might find you here," the Commander smiled as he entered the medical bay. 1157, or Stance as he'd been named, looked up a bit sheepishly. The young trooper was sitting beside Dume's bacta tank, cleaning his weapon while keeping an eye on his friend. "Doc droids know when he'll be coming out?"
"Should be sometime tomorrow morning. Did you need something, sir?" Stance asked, scrambling to his feet.
"Yes, but you can stay at ease, kid." Taking his own advice, Grey found a comfortable spot on the nearby console to lean against, studying Dume for a moment. The boy's short brown hair waved in the gentle currents of the tank, occasionally dropping low to obscure his closed eyes. Bandages covered his blaster wounds, though the irritated red skin was still visible around them.
"Who was your main combat trainer at Kamino?" Grey asked without preamble.
Stance blinked in response. "Jeshru G'nilk, hired bounty hunter."
"Good, he's one of the ones on our side." He held up a hand to stall the incoming questions. "You've been given the hints about Sixty-six, then? Tell me what you know."
"Only that it's apparently some kind of command hardwired into our brains, sir."
"Hardwired into a biochip that's in our brains, you mean." Grey paused. "Or at least, is in most of our brains."
"Most, sir?"
"Some of us have had those biochips removed, so that when Order Sixty-six is given out, we don't have to obey it like droids."
Stance looked more than a little alarmed at that.
"Wh- sir, what is Order Sixty-six?"
"A command to execute any and all Jedi with extreme prejudice, no matter age or skill level, under the assumption that they have turned against the Republic." Grey couldn't help the slight, grim smile at Stance's gobsmacked expression. "An assumption that quite a few of us think would be outright false if ever made."
"But, why...?"
"Why would the Jedi turn against us? Simple, we don't think they would. Why would such a command be forced upon our minds? Whoever ordered it placed there knew we would question it or outright disobey if such an order was delivered normally. Why am I telling you all this?" He gestured to the bacta tank, where young Caleb Dume was floating harmlessly, recovering from wounds sustained while fighting alongside his Master's troops. "I think you can figure out that last one for yourself, kid."
Stance turned slightly to stare at his small friend, barely a teenager and new to the realm of warfare, before looking back at Grey with a determined glint in his eye. "How do I get this chip out?"