CC-8443, Also known as Commander Justice, was a quiet man. He was someone who kept quiet about his emotions. When the Kaminoans were making profiles of the commanders, they noted that he rarely spoke unless he had to. He had quickly proven his prowess in the battlefield, able to adapt to any situation, but someone who kept secrets. When the first general they were put under wasted the lives of innocents and his men for glory, he was the one who found their body after an "accident". So when he started talking, everyone listened.

"We haven't figured out anything about him?"

"No sir, not a single thing."

Despite the fact that they were specifically given the first non-Jedi general, they could not find anything about him before Christophis. It was almost like he never existed beforehand. There was also his dog, as there were no records of such a breed. There was also the fact that his weapons were slug throwers, and they have heard mechanical noises coming from an area he wanted for a "factory". In short, he had no idea what to make of him.

"Hmm… Spike, Tar, Lacha. I need you three."

"Yes sir!" The three stated, with them following him. They were concerned mostly because they didn't really know what they were getting themselves into. All that the men knew was that Justice was going to get an answer. He always gets what he wants in the end.

As the four of them began to approach the area commandeered for the factory, they could immediately hear the sound of machines churning. The moving of gears, metal being forged into something new, it reminds the commander of an old mission he did, but right now his curiosity gets the better of him and opens the door.

They look around the small room that was completely transformed. Machines chug left and right, junk being compressed into something useful. Their eyes drift towards where they see fertilizer and scrap metal enter one of the machines from a conveyor belt, only to leave it as 5.56 rounds. Another takes antiseptic and blood packs to create syringes that make Spike, who has trypanophobia, nervous. Though they eventually solely focus on something else.

It is at least a dozen suits of power armor, armored with T-51B, painted white so they resemble regular clone armor. They stand empty, and devoid of all life, but ready to open with fusion cores already inserted into them. Sitting by them is a stockpile of slug throwers. From 10mm pistols to Miniguns, they stand proud, and ready to be used in a moment's notice.

They observe the suits with minor caution, they could be droids after all, but Justice quickly figured out they were just exoskeletons with armor on them. He relaxed and looked around before seeing the valve on the back and twisting it, causing the suit to open up. He was curious, and began to poke his head inside.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." His attention immediately snaps from it to see the general wearing X-01 instead of T-51B, mostly out of personnel preference. "The suit requires proper training. I learned that from some poor bastard who snapped his own neck in it. So might I suggest you get your head out of there and allow me to teach you later on."

He also internally sighed at how many sacrifices he had to do for it to work. He had to weld the pieces on so that the suit could function in a vacuum and add a few extra wires so that it doesn't kill it's users if used improperly, instead most likely just breaking a few bones. It would only kill someone if they push it too much multiple times.

Although, doing so did help him in figuring out the specs necessary for his suit to even begin to use the energy from the kyber crystal in the lightsaber, though he just thought of it as a super fuel instead of something tightly controlled by the Jedi. He kept the other lightsaber with him at all times as he really didn't trust others with it.

"Yes sir. Sorry for intruding, sir." The commander quickly apologized, for he really shouldn't have dug through it. Dogmeat walked up to him and sat down with puppy eyes, prompting him to begin petting the German Shepherd on the head.

"No need to apologize. In fact, that makes my life easier. You see, I was planning on outfitting the entire regiment in them. Make them use heavy armor and weaponry. Problem is, I'm gonna need your help to put in requests for supplies and train the men how to use them. So, think you can do that?"

"I mean, I can put in the request for the materials you need, but you'll have to train the first few before they can train the others."

"Good enough. Now, further orders. Commander, you and I have to get up to the bridge. We have a meeting with the Jedi. The rest of you, get some rest. If my hunch is right, it'll be a long day."

"Yes sir!" They quickly responded, and left the factory. As Justice, Alexander, and Dogmeat make their way to the bridge, they see holograms of multiple Jedi and their clone liaisons. The Sole Survivor mostly ignores them unless they speak to him. It helps his mind to keep clear. He quietly shut off his focus on the surroundings and entirely on the map.

"Ah, good to see you General Roberts." Rex states as he sees him enter. He honestly couldn't tell what he was wearing, but it was designed similar to his previous suit of power armor, so he easily assumed that it was him.

"Good to see you Rex. Would anyone mind telling me what's going on?"

"I can, sir. We've been tracking... A wea-that…" As Rex began to explain, he began to flicker before fully cutting out. The former minuteman stays quiet, his hands clenched with memories from Alaska.

"Sir! Enemy ship sighted!" One of the ensigns yells, which causes the attention of everyone in the room to snap away, and look out the windows. There, they see a sepratist battleship, but with what appears to be a giant device attached to its side.

"What's that giant dish on it?" Alexander asks the ensign, stomping out the fear in his voice.

"I don't know, sir. It doesn't look like anything I've seen."

"Hmm… Fire when ready, focus on the dish."

As the republic cruiser began to move closer to the sepratist battleship, he stared at it. Something was off. Showing the broadside with that is a huge risk, and he seriously doubted that they'd just expose it for no reason. When sparks began to form with it, his eyes widened for it immediately occurred to him what it truly was. He began to raise his voice, but it was too late.

It didn't long for the E.M.P. to make its way towards the republic ship, causing systems to immediately fry and stop working, with the power armor Alexander word locking up and forcing him in place before being able to fully recover thanks to its unique power source. He quickly pushed himself upwards and busted the elevator door open, with Justice and Dogmeat quickly joining him inside it. Now the useless cybernetic eye hummed with the elevator as they descended to the lower levels to the escape pod, the ship beginning to fall apart from enemy fire.

"Something tells me they aren't gonna use this to board the ship. That's good."

"Good?! Sir, with all due respect, how exactly is them not taking prisoners 'good'?" Justice immediately shouted in response.

"I got shit in the factory that I can't have falling into their hands. It might cost us lives, but it'll save countless more."

When the elevator finally opened, they began to run out before a large explosion came out in which time slowed for Alexander. The blast tossed him threw the air, but his eyes quickly turned to Commander Justice, who was bleeding badly from the explosion, and he definitely would need medical attention as soon as possible, with how damaged his legs were. However, when his eyes went to Dogmeat, the world stopped.

Dogmeat was laying on the ground, with shrapnel digging right into him. Normally, Roberts wouldn't worry about it, but with how it entered, the pooch would not survive. The good boy that stood with him from his rise and fall, who was there when he was king of the Commonwealth, and when the crown slipped from his grasp, stood by him. Yet here he was, with shrapnel slowly piercing his heart in another galaxy, all because his master couldn't bring himself to settle down and confront his demons. He pulled out Kellogg's pistol and muttered "I'm sorry," before putting two bullets in the german shepherd's skull to ensure he didn't suffer.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream at the galaxy for all it's cruelty. Yet he could not do anything. He tried, but to no avail, he had nothing left to do anything for. Except for the men under his command.

He grabbed the commander and began to run. Explosions came from all over, yet they did not impede his running. His suit was being pushed further than it was ever designed to, with the power threatening to overload if he kept going this way, but Alexander didn't care. All he cared about was the soldier on his shoulder.

He sharply turned on a corner and slammed into a wall, the commander quickly moved near his chest to ensure he didn't get hurt from the maneuver. That didn't stop him, however, only slowed him down. He began to sprint further, snatching up two clones with one of his arms to ensure their survival. He didn't notice who they were, nor did he care. They were people who didn't deserve to die here.

He still ran through fire and explosions with no sign of stopping. He ran through the hallways with a fury in his heart. He began to near the escape pods when his mind went to the fuckers that thought they could attack HIS ship, kill HIS dog, and fry HIS factory. Oh, he'd make them suffer alright.

As soon as he reached the escape pods, he tossed himself into one while carrying the clones and initiated it's release. It launched into the void of space, with many others. He hopped out of the armor before sitting down. He looked to the commander, wincing at his legs.

"That was certainly something you did, sir." One of the clones stated, with a hint of relief in his face. He had removed his helmet, which showed a clone with a tattoo of something in aurebesh on his neck, which Alexander still can't read. The other clone had kept his helmet on, looking outside the window.

Roberts didn't really care, as he was administering med-x and stimpaks to the commander, specifically his legs. They looked badly damaged, but there wasn't time for surgery. The stims would help him walk, and the med-x should help with the pain. He picked the commander up and put him in a seat before hopping in the one next to him.

The general checked what he had on him which was rather depressing. He left most of his weapons back on the ship as he didn't expect to be jumped in space. He had Kellogg's Revolver, the Lightsaber, and The Problem Solver. He had 23 bullets for the pistol, and 5 clips for The Problem Solver in his vest. Everything else was gone.

He thought he was already dead, for that could be considered a war crime, but there isn't a war crime if there aren't any witnesses. A standard tactic he used with raiders is now his cause of death. The Sole Survivor would find that amusing if Dogmeat wasn't dead. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. Yet all we could feel is a quiet fury to those that caused his death.

He would make them pay.

(A/N) Figured I'd get this out for all of you to enjoy. If you have any suggestions, just DM me, this is your story as much as it's mine. Take care!