Happy New Year!

All the exciting Star Wars news we've been getting lately inspired me to write another chapter so soon, some of which inspired more parts than others (you'll see at the end of the chapter). I'm glad I didn't have to leave you on a cliffhanger for too long since last time. Enjoy!

Chapter 10: The Grief

Aris

I open the door to my chamber and collapse on my bed. Grounder is gone. The thought still shocks me. I remember first meeting him on Kamino; lighthearted, a bit dumb, but very loveable. And an excellent soldier. He was always so ready to fight and unwilling to lose. He challenged us to be better soldiers, to be better men. He always tried to one-up us, and if we beat him in a task or competition, he was always so good-spirited about it and congratulated us on a job well done. He always had everyone's backs, and was more loyal than any other soldier in the grand army. But now he's gone and he's never coming back.

I figure now is the time to cry if I'm going to, because the other clones will be mourning and I don't think the admiral or the general will stop by to see me. If I weep now, I can sleep, wash the damage from my face when I wake, and be ready for orders the following rest of the rotation. I sit up on my cot, waiting for tears, but none come.

Maybe I'm too tired or maybe I cried enough in the wreckage, I don't know. I take the slip of Grounder's armor out of my belt and hold it tightly. There's one strip of aqua blue running down one jagged end of it, telling me that it came from one of his gauntlet pieces. Whether it's part of the arm or hand is unclear and unimportant. However, for some reason, the piece means so much to me. I feel as though I'm holding the last piece of him and if I hang on tight enough, maybe he'll stay with me. I don't know what happens to us when we die. From what Kwintessa's told me, living beings become one with the Force when they die. Maybe Grounder's apart of the Force now, too. Would he be? Do we clones count as living beings? We're alive, of course, but are we truly 'living' in the normal sense? We're manufactured. We were created. We're practically droids. Made to fight, made to die. Like all droids, we have a purpose. A function. Obey that function, and you're fine. Outlive it, and you're disposed of. Betray it, and you're destroyed. Like any regular old piece of machinery.

Maybe this is why I can't cry. I'm too angry. Grounder's death has proven what I've thought all along. Surely he won't get any special treatment for his services. Oh, we'll get a medal, surely. His name will be chiseled on the Grand Army of the Republic memorial on Coruscant like all the other clones. But nothing more than that. No special funeral, no service, no special remembrances. He's just gone. Just like that.

I feel my grip on Grounder's armor piece tighten, and I'm tempted to throw it. I want to throw something, but it feels irreverent to treat his last possession this way. So instead I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and try to relax. I clear my mind of the anger I'm feeling and try to think of something else. Like Kwintessa, for example. I'm happy I got a general like her. She cares that Grounder died. I saw her crying too, in the wreckage. She cared about him. She didn't know as much about him as I did, of course, but they were still friends, certainly. And she cares about all of the clones in her command, we're not just cogs of a battle machine to her. We're her soldiers and her friends. Perhaps her only friends. I know she feels poorly about the Jedi, and she doesn't know anyone else outside of that, besides Fayrin. So she most certainly cares about us, which brings a smile to my face. Someone cares.

In the silence that follows my thoughts, I hear footsteps coming from down the hall, and then a knock on my door. "Aris?" asks a voice on the other side of the door.

I wipe my eyes and sit a little straighter on my cot, doing my best to look fine. Whatever the definition of that word means. I clear my throat and give a surprisingly quiet, "come in."

The door opens, and there stands Kwintessa. Speak of the devil. My heart jumps a little, seeing her here when I was just thinking about her. She holds her elbows and gives me a solemn look. Not to sad, but obviously not joyful either. She walks in slowly, the door closing behind her. "I've never been in here before," she says softly. Thankfully, I'm not messy, nor do I have much that I own. My spare thermals and armor replacements are set neatly off to the corner, my helmet is on the ground next to my bed, and my weapons are stashed in the bland dresser below the small, circular mirror on the wall I'm facing.

"It's not much," I breathe back.

She looks at me with some emotion that I can't place, though it seems to be some sort of sadness or disappointment, as if wishing I had more or that the room wasn't as bland. She walks over to me and sits by my side on the cot, folding her hands in her lap.

"Are you okay?" she asks after a few moments of silence.

I sigh. "I'm alright, for now. I'm sure I'll be a wreck later."

She nods slowly. "Still processing?"

"Yeah."

"I understand that." A moment goes by before I realize what that implies. I look over to her, and see that a dark shadow has entered her eyes. She must have lost someone close to her, too. At first, I don't see how this could be possible. She hates the Jedi, right? Then I remember that all Jedi have a master that trains them. She said something about losing her master right before the war started a while back. This person must have meant a lot to her.

"What was their name?" I ask quietly. She turns her head to me and gives me a long, hard look. I don't think she's ever opened up to anyone emotionally before, so this must be hard for her. I'm about to tell her to forget it, when she speaks.

"Carlin Farthawe." She looks off somewhere in the distance and takes a deep breath. "He was the only Jedi that understood me. He was okay with the Jedi, or at least more okay than I was. But he agreed with me on a lot of things, too. He taught me well and protected me. He… he loved me. Like a father."

Her face gets sad, but something tells me she wants to talk about him more. And I'd like to get my mind off Grounder anyway, so I ask a question. "When did you meet him? When they assigned him to you?"

She shakes her head. "No, it was before that." Then she smiles. "It was during my crystal ceremony." Seeing my confused face, she explains. "When you're a youngling at the Jedi temple, you participate in this ceremony once you're almost ready to become a padawan. They take you to the crystal caves on Ilum to get your kyber crystal, which power the lightsabers and give them color. Usually, Master Yoda oversees the process, but a padawan will typically accompany him as well. Carlin was the padawan that went with us. We didn't talk much at first, but when I came out of the caves with my two orange crystals, some of the other younglings teased me. Or were scared of me. Or both." She shudders and hesitates, but then goes on. "Carlin came over to me and consoled me. He said that he believed I was good, and that I could do good things despite the colors. He said I would be a great Jedi. Only a little while later, he became a knight, and not long after that Master Yoda assigned me to him."

Kwintessa smiles again, and then looks back at me. "When did you meet Grounder?"

I sigh, and then lower my head. "Well, we were very young. Around 8, I think, in normal years." The memory is a happy one, but painful, now that he's gone. But I force myself to talk about it anyway. "We were assigned to study together in the academy. I remember meeting him right before a test on weapon parts. I was really nervous about it; I wanted to get a perfect score. Apparently I was in a really sour mood, cause he came up to me and said, 'what has your gun strap in a twist?' and I said, 'the gun strap. And the barrel. And all the other pieces I'm supposed to remember.'"

"What did he say back?" asks Kwintessa with a small grin on her face.

"Well, he could tell I was stressed, so he said, 'Why don't I give you some motivation to do well. If you score higher than me, I'll do your chores for the next twelve rotations. But if I do better than you, you have to do mine. And I have kitchen duty ten times in the next week.'"

"So?"

"So I was so worried about having to do kitchen duty for a week that I forgot to worry about remembering everything on the test. It blew by so quickly, and I passed. And I scored higher than he did."

"Was he mad?" she asks.

"No; in fact, he was happy. He laughed about it afterwards. 'See, that wasn't so bad,' he told me. 'You need to stop worrying about something you're already good at. Find something else to worry about.' He made me so relieved that I had passed the test and that I didn't have chores for twelve rotations that I immediately liked him. When we were put on the same squad together, I was overjoyed."

It's now that I realize, that after telling the story of how I met him, that I'm grinning. But immediately after, I'm saddened. My smile drops almost as quickly as it appeared, and my throat starts to tighten.

"He sounds like a good friend," says Kwintessa softly.

"He was," I choke, a tear escaping my eye. I sniff and clench my jaw, looking away from her to hide my grief. But as soon as I acknowledge that I'm sad, the faster the tears start to flow. I tighten my throat and try to stop my voice from cracking; lowering my head and closing my eyes. I sniff several more times, trying to block out the world and forget that Kwintessa's right next to me. She makes that hard, however, when she gently unclips my pauldron and places a hand on my shoulder. The warmth it brings calms me slightly, enough at least to breathe more steadily and wipe a few tears from my eyes.

"Thank you," I manage to choke, still hanging my head with my eyes closed.

"What for?" she murmurs.

"Everything." My voice is steadier now and the tears are slowing down. "You put our lives before yours. You accept us as people and not as… as droids. You… you love us." The words slip out before I can stop them. Suddenly, I find myself staring up at her, unafraid, looking right into her surprised and concerned eyes. "Don't you? Love us?"

It takes a moment before she responds. When she does, her voice is cracked and full of emotion. "I do."

Her response slowly causes a smile to form on my face, making one appear on hers as well. She removes her hand from my shoulder and stands. I stand with her.

"You okay?" she asks me.

Am I? I think okay is a little strong. However, Kwintessa successfully cheered my up a little, and has distracted me with other thoughts. So I suppose okay will have to do. "Yes; thank you."

This brightens her face more, and she leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. I am taken aback suddenly by how beautiful Kwintessa looks when she smiles. Which, admittedly, doesn't happen often. But when she does, like she just did, she shines with an energy that a thousand lightsabers lit together couldn't match. And I love it.

That's not to say I love her. Just… just…

Do I?

I know I've asked myself that question already, and decided on a firm no. Because I'm a soldier and she's a Jedi. But, I mean, hypothetically in some different world, could I? Like, if we were normal people and not in the positions we are. Would I love her then? With just her looks and her personality? At first my mind is repulsed by the thought because I don't want to consider, under any circumstances, that I may like her. But I suppose if we're just being hypothetical, I could consider it.

Kwintessa is undeniably pretty, that's much is certain. But considering she's an elf that's not surprising. Even then, she's prettier than most. And while she tries to seem domineering and irritated most of the time, I've seen moments, like just now, where she's extremely caring. And she's been happier before. She definitely has a soft side, which I like. She can hold her own, but she's also subtly dependent on others that she trusts. Which isn't many, but I seem to have made that list. And she likes me, I think. At least as a friend. Obviously. And I think she's a great friend as well. And beyond that…

If she wasn't a Jedi, and I, not a clone; I – I think I would. If she weren't a Jedi, I would love her. And I hope she would love me.

My heart pounds at the thought. A thought tugs at my mind, clearing my grief away. What if she loves me now? I know she said she loves us clones as a whole, certainly from a protective standpoint, but does she love me especially? Better than the rest? I don't know. But do I love her? Now?

No. That's not a question I should allow myself to answer. Not a question that I'm allowed to answer.

Then I hear Kwintessa's voice, playfully, on the beach of Kashyyyk. Something she said to me ages ago. "If people tell you you're not allowed to think about something, that probably means that you should give it a fair amount of thought. Chances are they're hiding something from you. Something important. Chase the answer 'til you have it, and then you can decide whether or not it's profitable to think about further."

If she were here now, talking to me about this, she would undeniably tell me to answer the question, no matter how hard or painful it might be. So. True to her spirit, do I? Do I love Kwintessa Morningcrest; my General, my leader, my friend?

I take a deep breath.

Yes.

I feel my heart speed up faster than it already was, sweat begin to bead on my neck, and my hands start to shake. I have to grab and squeeze them to hold them steady. I just admitted to myself that I love her. I love everything about her. The way she talks, the way she looks, the way she fights. The way she smiles, the way she laughs, the way she… she does anything. I cannot imagine my brief, false life before her, and it pains me to think of a life after her. When the war, if ever, is over, and she returns to the Jedi, and I, well, wherever the Republic wants me. Speaking of, I know the Republic would never be okay with me loving her. Which is why I must keep this a well-guarded secret. No one can know. And I know my allegiance should be to the Republic, but I can't help but feel an emotional allegiance to Kwintessa as well. For now, however, I must focus on the war. I must try to be the best soldier I can for the Republic. And also for my general.

But I can't.

I can't go back into battle knowing that I might die. It would be terrible for me to fall without getting to tell Kwintessa I love her. It would be even worse for her to die without me being able to confess as well. Although that's not likely; Kwintessa can more than handle herself. It's me I'm more worried about. But even then, if I die, does it really matter? The secret dies with me. No harm done. At least not to them.

But there's a worse scenario I'm forgetting. What if I survive? What if I never die in a battle, the war ends, and I'm left atop this secret? I can't ever tell anyone else. Not on my life. But I can't just live without anyone knowing. Even so, how can I fight honorably ever again? My only thought from now on will be whether or not Kwintessa is okay. I remember our first battle on Kashyyyk, when Kwintessa was knocked out from a charge. I was so afraid for her safety, and I didn't even love her then. How can I go into battle again without my every thought being about her? Thankfully, she usually orders me by her side anyway. But say she doesn't? How will I be able to concentrate on my mission when I'm too busy worrying about her?

Another thought hits me. How long have I really been in love with Kwintessa? I just now realized it, yes. But how long have I been really? I try to think back. It takes me quite a moment, but eventually I realize that I always have been, I think. Kwintessa tells me that a lot of commoners believe in some stupid thing called "love at first sight" or something like that. I thought it was ridiculous at the time, but I kind of fell into the trap myself. She was always undeniably beautiful. And her personality was always charming as well.

'Charming'? Who am I kidding. I don't sound like a soldier, I sound like a moonstruck child. I hit myself in the head with my blaster. Hard. The pain that follows blocks out my personal feelings for a moment, and it's at the exact second that I've finished clubbing myself that the door opens and Heilian walks in. He was looking at a holopad prior to entering, but when he looks up his eyes go straight to the welt on my forehead and the blaster in my hand. His face drops and he lowers the holopad to his side.

"Aris, I know you're hurting, but harming yourself is not the right way to deal with it," he says firmly.

Right. I completely forgot about Grounder. It was selfish of me to start dreaming about Kwintessa when I just lost one of my best mates. The grief hits me fresh again, and coupled with my new dilemma of Kwintessa, it makes me break down almost instantly. I put my head in my hands and collapse to the floor, a fresh round of tears escaping my eyes.

I hear Heilian walk over to me and kneel beside me. "I know it's hard Aris; I'm very sad too. But you have to remember that you're our commander; you have to stay strong for the good of your legion."

I nod. I know I have to, but it's still difficult. Especially now. I really got hit hard twice in the same day. Over the course of only a few hours.

"Is there anything else on your mind?" Heilian asks.

It's like he knows. I'm not surprised; Heilian is extraordinarily good at reading people. Especially people specifically under his care. But I can't let him know. "No. I'm just… sad, that's all."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" he asks. I swear I can hear the smile in his voice. I look up and I'm right.

"I have no idea what you mean," I sniff.

"Okay," he says. He gives me a firm pat on the back and then gets up, heading for the door. He stops right before he leaves and looks back at me. "If you ever want to talk to me about anything, Commander, you know I can."

I nod. He pauses, as if wanting me to say more, but I don't. So he sighs and leaves.

I feel dead inside. But I know he's right; I have a legion to lead. And no matter how much I'm unsure about them, I have a Republic to serve. So I clip my blaster to my side, grab my helmet, don it, and leave my chamber. I can't afford to grieve any longer. I head straight to the bridge.

On my way there, I get a few solemn nods from some of the men in other squads. I don't know all of them by name, but their condolences mean a lot. They salute and mutter words of encouragement, and I nod and murmur back. When I get to the bridge, Fayrin and Kwintessa stop their conversation and look at me in surprise.

"A-are you okay, commander?" asks Admiral Fayrin, slightly shocked that I appear in one piece.

I take a deep breath. "I'm fine, Admiral. Life goes on."

I have a hard time looking at Kwintessa now, but I force myself to meet her gaze. Her face seems wiped of most emotion, but I see some sympathy in her eyes. She still cares for me.

About, not for, I remind myself. There's a crucial difference. I care for Kwintessa on a personal level. She cares about me on a professional level. Big difference.

"Well, I'm glad, because we have a new assignment," continues Fayrin. I wait for her to pull it up on the holotable, but she doesn't.

"No map?" I ask.

"It's… confidential," says Kwintessa. "Secret commission. Just me, you, and your squad. And… another."

Confidential? I never thought I'd get a confidential assignment. And with whom? What other squad would we be taking?

The two of them throw a glance at each other and don't seem like they want to tell me the rest. This concerns me because I thought the three of us were supposed to be a team. "Well? Where are we going? Who's the other squad?"

Fayrin folds her arms and raises an eyebrow at Kwintessa, as if to say, 'He's your commander; you tell him.' Kwintessa takes a deep breath and then looks back at me.

"We're going to Nevarro," she says at last. "With Clone Force 99."

Clone Force 99. My hands clench into fists and my jaw tightens. I've heard plenty about them, and none of it has been good.

"The Bad Batch," I mutter aloud. Kwintessa nods.

Well well well.

First, before I get to the bigger reveals of the chapter, I hope I handled his grieving well. I didn't want him to spontaneously get over Grounder but I also know from Clone Wars (the show) that the clones don't really get to grieve for long. I just rewatched the Citadel arc yesterday and when Echo died, Fives didn't seem too upsetti (sorry for the Undertale reference I couldn't help myself). Same when Fives died; Rex didn't grieve for too long. Needless to say, I think I created a good distraction from his sadness.

Which, yes, here we are FINALLY. I have a certain friend (you know who you are) who is not going to be too happy for *does finger quotes* "rushing" the romance. But I think it is neither rushed here nor disappointing. If you disagree, do not be shy to let me know. But, to appease this friend anyway, I will wait a bit for Kwintessa to catch on. For now, be happy with Aris' angst.

Aaaaaand the Bad Batch next! I still am loving rewatching the trailer for our next animated series and I thought it would be exciting to include them here. As for the questionable inclusion of Nevarro, I know it's an Outer Rim world and so it wouldn't be entirely noticeable in the war. But in The Mandalorian, Cara Dune mentions that the Empire and Rebellion had a fair few conflicts on the planet, so it would stand to reason that the Republic would know about the planet. Regardless, I'm comfortable with the decision.

This is TOTALLY unrelated to Star Wars but as a Marvel nerd I have to say that IM SO INCREDIBLY EXCITED FOR WANDAVISION ITS GONNA BE SO GOOOOOD

...

Sorry. I'll see myself out.

- DASCKRON