EPILOGUE

"Mom. Mom." LeVen ran into the back kitchen where Jesiya stirred hot syrup to drizzle over the small, individual cakes for dessert at evening's meal.

"There were two in the dockyard and I invited them tonight. One's blind and I think the other one is wounded also. He sat all stiff-like."

"Very probably, Ven. There are few troopers with no wounds." Jesiya dipped a spoon into the syrup and drizzled it over the cakelets then dipped the spoon into the pan again. "When can we expect them?"

"I said I'd come get them and show them the way before evening." He fidgeted far too close to the uj cakelets, shiny with the syrup beginning to crystalize. Jesiya sighed in pretended exasperation as she pushed one at him with the wooden spoon. She always made an extra for her son who didn't know how to be still, with 'hollow legs' and only two speeds — all out and sleeping.

LeVen grinned as he tore the small cake in two and stuffed half into his mouth. After chewing twice and swallowing, he continued speaking. "The blind one got all frosty and said they didn't need handouts and if they came, they could find the way but I told them it would get me out of some chores and maybe even some homework so the stiff one laughed and said they would wait for me to lead them." He tossed the other half of the uj sweet into the air and it landed in his mouth after sliding down his cheek leaving a sticky smear.

Jesiya laughed, shaking her head as she reached out to ruffle his dark hair with her fingers but he was a growing boy and found that embarrassing. He quickly ducked her hand.

"I'm not sure they believed you would really let me bring strangers to dinner."

"If they're here then that's sufficient. Helping family is far more important than weeding the garden although nothing gets you out of your schoolwork."

He sighed. "A guy can hope."

She told him that. Often. Her eyes softened in memory. "When everything else is gone, there is always hope."

LeVen was right. Her son talked as fast as if trying to get out of an entire day's worth of chores and waving his arms around as he led the two to their home - the sign in the front proclaiming it a small hostel with rooms to let. She had already switched it to show no vacancy.

One was blind, a bandage tied around his eyes. The other walked carefully, his face a stiff mask as if he would break down in pain with the tiniest misstep. His arm on the blind trooper's was leading, tapping a map on his palm with a finger but the blind man held a good portion of his weight. Two men who worked well together. Neither of them were Slick but she could tell they'd been together a long time, maybe all the way since Kamino.

Funny, how seeing more of his vode had simply individualized Slick in her mind; the way he smiled as he glanced down then grinned, his tiny gesture of tilting his head forward just so, or rubbing his fingertips over something smooth as if it gave him comfort. The more clones she saw, the more individual each one seemed.

Slick would be older now, like these two, with furrows between his eyebrows and lines bracketing his mouth, hair still more black than grey but not for long.

In her heart, he remained young.

Tears pricked her eyes but she smiled at the two clones. "You are welcome in my home as family."

The fragile one glanced at LeVen.

"Well," he murmured as he turned his face back to hers, his voice so similar to Slick's. "That's as good an explanation as any and better than most."

Jek was the blind one while Rys drew in his breath at the pain of merely sitting. After LeVen's words, she was prepared for that and dinner was on the table. Otherwise, they'd insist upon helping and feel worse for any mishaps caused by what they couldn't do.

The talk was general, weather and… well, more weather until LeVen was gone.

"I was born on Christophsis. I left, involuntarily, on a very disruptive day. My sister was going to visit me. She said there was important family news that even her disreputable sister should know. I never found out what it was. There was a battle and we civilians were herded into rescue shuttles. They said it was just a temporary relocation — just until they could regain the perimeter." Jesiya shook her head. "It was over two years before I could return to Christophsis and by then everything had changed. My home was a built-over battlefield, my favorite place a war memorial to the dead. Everyone I knew was gone though I did find my brother's grave. Not my parents' or my sister's. I always hoped that they escaped."

Rys gestured a finger to the door where LeVen had run out after eating, with a hurried, 'gonna visit Elb'.

"And the price of our very delicious dinner is a name?" His voice lifted in question.

"No. I know his name, Sergeant Slick, even his designation. His company was Commander Cody's 212th." She looked down at the table. Would this be another set of men who didn't know? It seemed so. "I never saw either name or designation on any lists but I didn't have a lot of access. The shuttles that rescued me weren't Republic, they were Separatists."

"Ah," Rys spoke softly.

"And two years is forever in war." Jek ducked his head, staring blindly at the plate before him, only partially due to lack of vision.

Her eyes teared. "Especially for a man who ages twice as fast."

There was pensive quiet for a long moment as the past became present. Jesiya cleared the table and brought out the uj cakelets, leaving her despair in the kitchen. They didn't deserve a weepy host and she was getting used to nothing.

"Finger food," she warned Jek. "But sticky."

"As long as I can lick my fingers, I'm good."

She laughed. "That's what I do."

"Slick of the 212th?" Rys said thoughtfully as he gazed at the shiny cakes. "We had a squad mate once who'd been with the 212th. He mentioned Sergeant Slick once."

Jek shook his head. "I remember. Sketch didn't like him and I never heard him say the name again." He skimmed his fingers over the table until they touched the plate and picked out a cakelet.

"Two-twelfth," murmured Rys as he also took one of the sugar-shiny desserts and crunched through the crystalline sweetness. "Back when Palpatine was chancellor instead of emperor." He shook his head and gingerly reached down to adjust his legs with his free hand and a quiet hiss. "The 212th hung around a lot with the 501st. Their Jedi generals were related." He paused then continued on in a more hesitant voice, telling her things civilians shouldn't know. But if not a woman with a half-clone son, then who?

"Among us clones, rumors are quite a few troopers deserted the 501st — almost half, more than any other company — when Appo became commander and the company became Vadar's Fist." He looked up at Jesiya, her eyes bright and hopeful. "I'm sorry, but that's all I know."

"I haven't met any of the 501st here and only the 212th was assigned when I was on Christophsis." Jesiya shook her head with a frown.

"I don't think they live here," said Jek, prevaricating cautiously due to his blindness. "We... " he paused, then chose his words carefully. "We met them out there." He carefully gestured around then ended with his hand in a skyward wave. "It was some time back but they didn't have the sound of Mando'a in their words."

Rys nodded. "Their tone was sharper, biting off the ends of words with glottals instead of the Mando'a diphthongs. They were dressed civilian. More Wroonian and Naboo though they had a few Pantori and human civilians with them, a Twi'lek and a Togruta." He laughed slightly. "They were a very mixed squad, but they worked well together. Jek and I have spoken about trying to find them again but have too little idea of where to start. Mandalore hasn't really been a hospitable world for us." He sounded almost apologetic for his opinion of her adopted planet.

Jek gave a tiny nod then grinned widely in her general direction, licking a luscious, sticky finger. "Today excepted, of course."

"Not really inhospitable either," mused Rys. "I guess." He rubbed a finger against his chin then sucked off some sticky remnant. "It's all so different from what we've known and lived with for so long. Maybe that's all it is."

Jesiya heard the confusion in his voice. "That could be all but that's everything. I came here a decade ago with a baby in my arms and not much else. I felt horribly lost and alone."

Slick had spoken of Mandalore as the home of his heritage and trainers he respected. She'd been lucky to find one and been adopted into a large, extended family composed of so many clones. But none who'd known Sergeant Slick or much about anyone from the 212th.

"You're very brave men to leave everything you've ever known. I think you simply haven't met the right people. Please stay the evening, I will see if I can find anything to help you."

"We don't have money to stay. Jobs are what we're looking for," Rys declared."The opportunity for good work to support ourselves."

Jek gestured to his face and the bandage around his eyes. "Maybe even something I could do?" His voice was far more tentative than Rys'. Rys looked at his brother with affection then at her hopefully.

Please, he mouthed the word silently, laying the gift of his pride at her feet.

Jesiya's eyes glittered with tears and she nodded at Rys.

When she spoke to the Kyrimorut later to let them know two more lost clones had been found, she'd ask about the 501st, if any of the Skirata clan knew of someone from the 501st; someone who might be able to tell her news of Slick.

As she had told Slick's son, there was always hope. She had lived on it for more than a decade. She could live on it for the rest of her life as long as she kept searching for information.

Mandalore.

In the several months since Rex and Ahsoka had dropped him off on the planet, he had explored. Mandalore was everything he'd hoped for and very little he expected.

Rex had told him there were clonetroopers to be found on the planet but he hadn't seen any. Until now.

There were two of them sitting at a bench table in front of the building – a bar-cum-eatery-cum-supplier. He thought to offer them some of the money he had earned or his rations. Not every Mandalorian accepted the Fett clones as 'true' Mando'a, especially wounded ones. The concept of 'too slow to duck' was definitely Mando'a. But these two looked well-fed, well-clothed, content. Even happy. The blind one had paused in sharpening the knife, his head back, laughing at something the other had said.

Redemption observed them for a while, wondering if the other one, frail with wounding, spotted him and marked him as a clone through the armor he wore. Grey for mourning trimmed with silver ombre to white in his search for redemption and a fresh start. Lines of 501st blue and 212th yellow wandered randomly over his front and back plates - ostensibly for reliability and remembrance but in reality for the debts he owed both companies.

Sketch had painted it for him after Rex brought Captain Punch's company back from Mustifar. He'd hung back as Chopper ran to his ex-squaddies with laughter and hearty hugs.

Captain Punch recognized him first and strode up to him. "I'm sorry but we couldn't take you, Slick," he said. "Not because of what you'd done in the past. That's long forgiven. But you'd been reconditioned and we couldn't chance that this time you wouldn't turn traitor."

"It was an everyday discussion in the mess," added Lieutenant Sketch. "There's no way you would have missed it." Then Sketch reached out, offering Redemption a brother's handshake.

They invited him to join Punch's company, but Redemption couldn't stay with them - not after realizing what he'd done to Punch and Sketch. Perhaps they had forgiven him. They sparred and joked and recited remembrance for missing brothers. When Sketch presented him with armor so beautifully painted, he tried but was unable to hold back his tears.

Redemption pushed himself away from the wall as much as from memories. It was good to know that Punch and Sketch forgave him, as did Chopper and Jester. But he hadn't forgiven himself. He might never forgive himself because he only knew these things he'd been told. He didn't remember the experience of them.

He stood in front of the two and removed his helmet, revealing himself as one of them. The frail one nodded and gestured to a place on the bench as the other continued sharpening the knife. Redemption saw several other knives waiting.

"We got a vod here," he said to the blind man.

"Everyone one Mandalore can use a knife," the blind one quipped. "Most don't know how to properly sharpen one."

"I'm Redemption, Red for short." He glanced around. "Deserted, same as most other smart clones."

"Rys, ex-Coruscant Guard."

Rys was fragile — probably explosive damage — so Redemption grasped his hand carefully, following his lead in how much pressure to use. Jek reached out as well and Redemption took his hand quickly so he wouldn't be embarrassed about his blindness.

"Jek," he said. "Also ex-CG." He jerked his head sideways to Rys. "Same as my vod here."

For a moment, Redemption paused. "I was most recently on the cruiser Pelqwine. Before that, the Redoubtable right after reconditioning."

"Used to be a bad thing," said Rys. "Being reconditioned. These days…" he shook his head. "Not so much."

Jek laughed as he touched the knife to his fingertip and nodded. "These days they'd like to recondition us all. Double-check this one for me, Rys."

"It's good, Jek. Do you know which company you were with before?"

Redemption shook his head as Jek carefully reached and picked up another blade.

"They wouldn't want me back. I… uh… I."

"We're not going to refuse you, vod. Everything from before has become white snow." Jek's voice was kind and Redemption's face twisted in emotion.

"I've seen snow. Although the snow is white, you can see the outline of things beneath it. The blackness left by munitions. And the tracks after it's been disturbed."

Rys tilted his head slightly, eyeing Red with contemplation. Then he spoke. "Whatever you did, it's washed out. Gone. Whether by reconditioning or desertion."

Redemption was still. "The 212th might not think so." He ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips. "I was…" he panted, wondering if he was alienating the first two vode he'd met. Then he found his voice. "I was the traitor on Christophsis."

Jek stilled and Rys raised his eyebrows. There was a long moment of silence then Rys spoke. "That must be quite a story."

Jek blinked several times, his face twisted in thought. "If you've been reconditioned, then how do you know?"

Redemption huffed a tiny chuckle. "Now that's the tale."

Rys laughed. "Then come along. Jesiya will be happy to see you. Her boy will enjoy hearing another trooper's story. His father was a CT but..." Rys shrugged. Red dipped his head solemnly for all the vode who had died. He would learn the boy's father's name and recite it each night, adding it to the long string of others.

"I'll probably need to edit it for him."

"Probably," agreed Jek. "We did. But you'll be happy to meet Jesiya. She's a really good cook." Jek grinned. "Though you'll have to share the room with us."

"I don't need…"

"You're vod," asserted Rys. "You'll share with us and we, with you."

Redemption released a heavy breath and stood. "It's good to be with vode again."

There was a distant voice, higher-pitched and female.

"Jek," called a voice. "Rys, I've…."

A flash of blue caught his eyes and Redemption turned toward a dark-haired woman wearing a faded, sky-colored shawl. She was beautiful and had an odd expression on her face as she stared at him. Instinctively he started to shift into parade rest then, remembering more recent training, he leaned against the stone wall in a nonchalant manner and crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity as she stepped closer, still staring. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

"What's your designation?"

Her voice echoed out of his dreams. He opened his mouth, closed it and swallowed then told her. "CS-R-21-8644." He said it low enough to not be heard by any passerby, bowing his head with shame.

"It used to be CS-21-8644." Her voice was a shocked whisper. "Unless you aren't who I remember."

"Kriff. You're the one." It burst from Rys but his voice faded into nothing.

Red's breath came in tiny pants and he trembled at her revelation. "I'm not. I'm not who you remember. They reconditioned me. Took away everything and made me forget who I was. But I used to be CS-21-8644. I'm told I called myself 'Slick' then." There was a long silence. "Now, I call myself 'Red'. It's for Redemption."

She gave a sad little laugh. "My name is Jesiya but then I was known as Maruli." She bit her lower lip and gave a little shrug. "I thought my family would never know how I earned money if I used a fake name." She stared at him for a long while, Jek and Rys silent behind him. Finally, she spoke though her voice was choked in pain.

"It's ok," she told him, though there were tears in her eyes. "All I ever wanted was your freedom. You have that now."

"I understand that I did terrible things when I was Slick," he offered.

She tilted her head. "Probably." She paused. "I did terrible things, too. I'm sure we all did. It was war. We didn't have the luxury of being human."

His face tightened slightly. "I am human."

"I know that," she smiled but her chin quivered and her eyes glistened. "I've known that far longer than you have. We argued about it. You called yourself a meat can and a flesh-droid. I'm glad you've changed your mind."

"They changed everything about my mind."

She bit her lip and closed her eyes in pain. Her voice was whispery and tiny when she spoke. "So Slick really is dead."

He nodded but it was Rys who answered. "Yes, I can confirm that Sergeant Slick, formerly of the 212th, died in some lab on Kamino. This is a fairly new clone."

She dropped her face to stare at the ground, her hands drawn up to her lips. Her shoulders shook for several moments then seemed to solidify into resolve. She took a deep breath and reached her hand out for his. "Come and I'll introduce you to Slick's son."

Hesitantly, he touched a finger to the old blue shawl she had, in long habit, tossed over her shoulders. "That's a beautiful color." His voice was soft. "And… it's vaguely familiar. Like a dream I've had before." Then he set his hand in hers.

She smiled at him and he relaxed. He turned back to check if Rys or Jek needed help but Rys waved him away. Redemption turned back to the woman.

"It's all new," she said. "But you'll get used to it. Having friends helps."

This, he knew, was what he'd been waiting for, searching for even before he understood anything. No questions, no uncertainty, no subterfuge or lies.

For the first time since reconditioning, he felt sure of the future and his place in life.