"Your new squad, Sergeant 8644." Jedi General Shaak Ti gestured to the four men. "ARC-trainees 56 and 58, 57 and 59." Four blinked, surprised the general knew his designation as well as how quiet she'd been. He pushed the manual aside and stood in parade rest. He thought about removing his bucket but decided not.

"General," he murmured but his eyes were inspecting the four troopers with her. He'd heard them, but the sound of clones in the study rooms were ever present and echoed throughout the more open areas for sparring. Theses clones were more muscular than the troopers he'd trained previously. They stood more prepared for an attack even here in the safety of the study, though their helmets were in their hands.

Four nodded in approval. There was no safety anywhere. He'd known that since his reconditioning, since he'd woken and realized his first experience and knowledge and interaction with another clone was a lie.

Perhaps a kind lie from the clone, but a lie nonetheless.

Sometimes he wondered if the trainers and the Jedi knew he'd been reconditioned. If so, they never mentioned it. Sometimes he thought they couldn't know because they gave him some of the best clones to train. Cee's squad had been exemplary, as had the squads before him. Sometimes he was sure that all clones were that good, but Ninety-nine told him not in a sad and bereft voice. 'There's plenty of bad batches,' he had said. 'Most just...disappear.'

It was the only time Four hadn't asked the inevitable question.

"We're being trained by Ninety-nine's CT," One of them, 56, exploded in disgust. He glanced at the general, a question in his expression. The next one in line, likely 56's closest vode because it wasn't 57 so they weren't in line order, raised his lip in a sneer at the sergeant.

Four gave the tiniest grin from the side of his mouth, barely a twist of hidden humor and pain.

"And a reconditioned clone at that." He offered his status to them, as he never had to any of the others, to push them, to make them angrier.

The loud one - 56 - pushed off his foot, intent on slamming Four to the ground and battering him for the insult of not being one of the Cuy'val Dar trainers. But Four had been in battle and, though he didn't remember any of that, his body did. He was prepared - prepared for almost anything - and took a slight step to the rear and pushed the off-balance ARC to the ground with a hand to the back of his neck and almost no effort.

Then he gestured his fingers at the next one, 58, who'd given that little sneer. The little mocking waggle of his fingers urged the ARC forward with a growl of anger and Four twisted, slamming his elbow into the side of the trooper's head. He was pretty sure he hadn't killed the ARC though there was always that possibility. It wasn't something he'd do to a CT, but ARCs were bigger, more muscular, had thicker armor, and were more prepared for an attack. Theoretically, at least.

Fifty-eight hit the floor like dead weight.

Shaak Ti's eyebrows rose almost as elegantly as the arching curve of her lekku - perhaps at the viciousness of his attack. She took a step back, slipping her hands in her wide sleeves, giving Four room to deal with his first attacker who had risen with a roar of rage. He was fairly sure she wouldn't do that if the ARC-trainee was dead. Though this fight was certainly at her permission; she must have given 56 some little nod at his questioning look.

"Think," Four yelled at his attacker. "Don't just rush. You're ARC, supposed to be the best." Again he stepped aside, though this time 56 had braced enough that Four couldn't lever him to the ground with a single hand. Not that he bothered trying the same attack again.

He grabbed the ARC unevenly on both sides of his shoulders, pulling slightly harder on the ARC's left side to unbalance him, and fell back to the floor, pushing 56 with his legs. 56 was slung over his head with the momentum and hit the tabletop sideways, heavily and off-balance, rather than landing in a roll. The datapad Four had been studying slid further along the table.

"This doesn't prove it."

"Your best tactic is to listen." Shaak Ti's voice floated to them. She sounded more bored than anything else though Four was sure that was merely his impression. "We want ARCs with precision." She placed her attention on Four and he felt a prickle down his back but he wasn't sure if she was using the Force or it was his own anxiety at being the focus of her attention. She was the Jedi general in charge of all clone training and assignment. If he hated anyone, it should be her. Though sometimes she seemed clueless.

"Sergeant 8644, do you wish to train these ARCs? If not, I will take them to another trainer."

That choice was a first, but maybe she thought the ARCs too aggressive for him. To Four's amazement and despite her magnificent abilities, Jedi General Ti was rumored to be a pacifist.

But aggression and fighting weren't what he taught. Clones were born aggressive and had been learning martial skills since birth. He looked at the ARC-trainees. Fifty-six, with a belligerent express on his face, was sliding off the table. 58 lay on the floor, his helmet spinning slowly beside him. The other two simply watched and waited.

"If they want me, I'll train them. If they want someone else then give me a squad who wants to learn to be their best."

The general gave a gentle nod then left the room without a word. Four figured they had decided to stay and, Jedi-like, she'd known. Or maybe she was letting them know that training them was his choice, not theirs.

He turned back to them, prepared if any came at him again. 56's eyes narrowed thoughtfully but he didn't attack.

"Ask yourself why me. Are you sure that you'll graduate as ARCs? Maybe the Kaminoans found some deficiency in you." They shifted nervously at that.

Inwardly, Four smiled to himself though there was also anger at their trainers and the Kaminoans for keeping them in ignorance. That was how to handle them - to use their uncertainty of their status to make them want to achieve. That was his self-appointed task. To make the troopers he trained steady and sure. Not sure of what they were to the Kaminoans or to the GAR but sure of themselves and sure of their abilities. He taught them to be a squad - an interlocking unit better than any individual. "Ask yourself, what do I have to teach you."

Four glanced at the three standing then at the ARC on the ground. He didn't move but he made noises and Four was happy he wasn't dead.

"Dealing with a CT, learning to not be so arrogant," said one of the remaining ARCs. He hadn't moved from his place and his body was relaxed rather than tense in preparation to attack though his eyes were glaring slits of anger. Apparently, he didn't particularly like 56 or 58 though he agreed with them at being trained by a reconditioned sergeant. He was simply better at hiding it. Not very good at it, simply better than 56.

"Actually, it's CS. But recognize that there are people, both troopers and civilians, with more training and experience." He removed his helmet and tossed it to 57 as he bent to help 58 from the ground. "We can call you Stone," said Four as he kept his eyes on the other ARCs. "Because you dropped like one."

"'M'name's Havoc," the ARC replied in a shaky voice, one hand reaching toward a wall that was too far away to touch.

Even with Four's arm around him, Fifty-eight - Havoc - wavered and almost fell. He reached up to remove his helmet but missed. Four removed it for him and looked into his eyes. "Like medics. Come on Havoc, you've got a concussion."

He glanced at the others. "You all come as well. Pay attention to the medic. You'll be tested on it." Four grunted. "You'll be tested on everything. Expect it."

"Then we should test you," retorted 56, still angry at being thrown by a regular clone.

Four nodded. "Anytime, anywhere. Except in, to, or from medic's hall." He saw that surprised them. "Tell me why you aren't a squad but only four sequential troopers."

"They don't want us to be a squad." That was from 57, the one who'd caught Four's helmet. "We're ARCs. We're supposed to work alone."

"Then why do they send you out in pairs?" Four saw the startled expression on 56's face. "No wonder you don't like each other. You don't think you'll need to depend on each other. And you think liking someone or depending on someone is a weakness."

"For the most part, you will work alone. Sometimes in your training pair. But you need to recognize that you are part of a unit. That sometimes it isn't the trooper or ARC who fails. Sometimes it's the unit, the command group. Sometimes it's being out-numbered, outgunned, or simply bad luck. You need to find your place in any unit. You can start now. Pretend you're a squad. Who's your best sniper?"

"Me," growled 56 even as 59 spoke.

"Havoc. Unless you scrambled his brains and eyes more than necessary."

"Best pilot?"

"I am." That was 57 but 59 chimed in naming Blitz with a gesture at 56.

Sergeant Four shook his head. "Whether they're true or not, and checking your stats is easy, those aren't squad answers. A squad always knows his rank in his skills relative to everyone else in his squad. Once he gets to his company, he compares his major skills to everyone so, once again, he knows where he stands. Because sometimes the command group needs to know who's the best at that moment. And they need it without two or three troopers each claiming it and the captain having to check his bucket for records."

"We were only brought together as ARCs yesterday."

"Don't tell me that." Four sneered at the lie. "You know your stats as compared with every other ARC in the system, alive and dead. When you can, you take pride in being better than the others. If you aren't better, you use their higher rankings as guidelines, as targets to achieve."

Four was silent a moment. He'd been the best… but couldn't remember at what. He did remember the echo of a voice filled with kindness and another filled with pride. And then it all crumbled apart like a tower blasted to bits.

"At this moment, if I was taking you to reconditioning instead of medical, who would attack me?"

There was silence behind him and even Havoc, at his side, stiffened. Four stopped in the corridor. "That's an incorrect answer. The correct answer is all of you. You protect not just yourself but your vode. Both the higher ranked and the lower ranked, the unwounded and the wounded. Your assignments are not independent of the army. Don't ever think of yourself as a lone entity. You have a history and you have an extended self that stretches from Fett to the most recently vatted noob in his pod."

"You may fight separately but you are never alone in this battle. That's your first rule - you fight together."

He paused at the doorway of medical. "Second rule is you don't let anyone get reconditioned."