As they started down the hill, moving through the powdery snow, Cody put his helmet on again. The cold and constant movement were getting to his injury, and the tiny voice in the back of his mind that was presumably his good sense but somehow sounded like Stitch warned him he needed to slow down.

Cody obeyed, trailing behind Hunter, but by the time they got halfway down, the increasingly sharp ache in his chest made him pause for rest. He leaned one hand against the rough bark of a nearby tree and bent at the waist, trying to draw in slow, even breaths.

"Cody?" Hunter's voice sounded concerned, and Cody looked up to see him climbing back up the hill.

"I'm okay," Cody said. "Just that old injury."

"Not that old," Hunter disagreed.

"Yeah . . . I guess not." Cody straightened and continued slowly down the hill, while Hunter hovered at his left side. Then Cody slipped, just the slightest bit – he was nowhere close to losing his balance, but Hunter caught him by the elbow and wrist as fast as if he'd had his feet knocked out from under him.

He's at least as bad as Rex, Cody thought, amused. Possibly even as bad as Colt, though . . . less vocal. "Thanks."

Hunter didn't answer, except to resume hovering as they walked – it was like having a medical droid at one's shoulder, except quieter and more obviously concerned. Oh, and less predictable. All a med droid would do if you keeled over was sound an alarm.

Cody highly doubted he was about to keel over.

"Hunter," he said after over a minute of the sergeant walking beside him, one hand hovering behind his shoulder. "I promise, I'm fine."

"Yeah . . . Right." His voice was nearly inaudible.

"What, you don't believe me?" Cody challenged, keeping his tone flat so Hunter wouldn't sense his amusement.

"I . . . uh, yes," Hunter tripped over his tongue, embarrassed. "But – that's – the others have all said it a lot, and half the time it isn't true."

"The others being your squad mates?" Cody stepped carefully over a gnarled root that poked up beneath the snow.

"Yeah. Wrecker – you saw his scars. He stood up right after that explosives accident and said he was fine looking like that. He was getting blood everywhere, and the emergency med team was running in – he lost most of his vision in one eye, and that was all he said. And the rest of the time he makes a big fuss about small injuries.

"The number of times Crosshair . . . He and Tech are the worst, really." Hunter paused, as though startled he'd let that slip. "I'm sure they don't intend to be."

"Eh, don't worry," Cody said. "I'm sure they don't. Being stupid about injuries is common to most clones – most cadets," he corrected quickly, pretending not to hear Hunter's faintly amused huff. "I know troopers who have brushed off injuries a lot worse than mine – trust me, Hunter, there's a reason clone medics are so universally grouchy."

Hunter smirked.

"What about Tech and Crosshair? You said they were worse than Wrecker?"

"Not the same way. Just – more frequent." Hunter paused, his eyes flicking from one side to the other as though considering whether he should continue.

Cody stayed silent.

Finally, Hunter sighed. "Well, Tech said, 'I'm fine' right before he passed out in the citadel challenge from forgetting to eat for a day and a half. We didn't know what was wrong, and then when we got him to medbay and he revived, he was annoyed at us for being so worried over low blood sugar – he called it a 'ridiculously superficial and easily nullifiable symptom'."

Somehow, that didn't surprise Cody in the least. "Did he ever repeat that mistake?"

"Yes." Hunter actually let out an aggravated sigh. "The second time, I put Wrecker on making sure he ate. That worked okay, and then last month Tech just dropped like a stone while trying to describe some translation program he was working on. Turns out he'd not slept for two days because he wanted to finish the alterations on his visor. He said sleeping would have interrupted his thought process."

Cody snorted.

"That's when I told him if he was too busy to sleep, we needed to toss some of his projects." Hunter paused to step onto a stump and jump off the opposite side. He had wandered a couple meters from Cody by now, and was talking somewhat absently, like he just wanted to get it off his chest. "Tech said I was overreacting, but then Crosshair said he had no problem throwing Tech's datapad out the window, so – Tech got mad, but he agreed to pay more attention. Never quite got him to say what he'd pay more attention to . . . Wrecker's been helpful with that, though. He keeps an eye on him when I can't."

Cody gave a noncommittal hum.

"Crosshair – I don't know what it is with him, he just absolutely refuses to cooperate when anyone notices something's off. If I pretend not to notice he's gotten hurt, chances are he'll go to medbay himself and get it looked at – not like he'll ever mention it. But if I say something, or Tech or Wrecker or I show that we've noticed an injury, it's like pulling rancor teeth to get him in for treatment." Hunter was talking faster now, staring at the ground as he moved. "And I don't want it to get to the higher-ups or the Kaminoans, so I don't pull rank on him because if I do and he still doesn't listen, I'll have to report it, and that's a . . . I can't have them knowing."

A defect, is what they'd call it, Cody thought. He was beginning to understand better, now.

"We all learned some basic medical care," Hunter went on. "Sometimes we just patch each other up instead of getting everything logged in the system. . . I know none of us like being in the medbay – heck, Cross and I hate it. But even when it's just us patching him up – I haven't been able to figure out why he's so blasted stubborn about letting people help him. I don't want to be micromanaging him, or Tech, but if I don't they just . . . I don't think they do it on purpose, but it's like they don't care enough to bother."

He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, then sighed. "And they didn't get really bad about it until around the time I was assigned to be sergeant. I still can't figure out what I did wrong, unless it was that time I refused to go for an eval. I was careful not to do it after, but maybe that example was all it took."

He had stopped walking and was glaring holes in the nearest tree. Cody caught up with him and paused, taking off his helmet. "Mind if I make an observation?"

Hunter turned to look at him, then shook his head dejectedly. "I wish you would, sir."

"All right, then," said Cody with a nod. "First, a couple of questions. I assume you refused to go for an eval because you didn't want the doctors to know about your response to stun weaponry."

"Yeah."

"And why is that? Or would you rather I not know?"

"I don't . . ." Hunter hunched his shoulders slightly. "I don't want to be kept off the field, sir. I know we weren't meant to be soldiers. I got Tech to slice Nala Se's files for me, and we never had status as troopers. I guess there used to be more of us, but we're the only ones who . . . survived."

Cody nodded quietly.

"When I was promoted to sergeant, I thought we might have half a chance, but not if the finheads decide to keep me back for more tests."

"Because of your enhancement."

"Yeah. They've basically figured out Tech's and Wrecker's and Crosshair's, but they're always pulling them in for evaluation tests. I don't think my enhancement worked the way it was supposed to. The Kaminoans know I can tell where droids and information centers are, but not how much. And they know I can track – but when we found out I couldn't handle stun weaponry, we kept it quiet. Far as I know, the Kaminoans still aren't aware."

"And you think this knowledge would keep you back because they'd want to test it or study its limits."

Hunter grimaced. "Or they'd think I was a liability to the team and send the others without me."

"Which would be even worse," Cody agreed with a slow nod. "And why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I should have told you earlier." Hunter was trying to keep his expression neutral, but not succeeding very well. "You and Havoc and Colt all want to make something out of us, sir, and I appreciate it. But I should have told you we aren't even really troopers. I don't know if you can do anything about that . . ." He lowered his voice, but Cody caught his mumbled words. ". . . I hope to the Force that you can."

"We can." Cody put a hand on his shoulder. "We're already doing it, actually. I was aware of your designation, and I spoke with General Ti. The records were ordered to be altered before we even left Kamino."

Hunter's eyes widened, and he took a step back. "To –"

"You're all being assigned CT numbers. I don't know how Havoc's managing it, or what they'll be, but he's taking care of it."

"Havoc? He –" Hunter shook his head once, too surprised to speak. "And Nala Se?"

"Well, now that General Ti knows about you, I'll bet Nala Se's going to have trouble giving good reasons for keeping you out of the war, given your level of talent."

Hunter just stared at him.

Cody switched the topic with ease. "And here's my observation. You seem to think that everything with your squad got worse once you became sergeant?"

"Yes, sir."

"Honestly, the sudden increase in sheer boneheadedness probably has more to do with age than with your promotion. Trust me. I was put through command training with the rest of my batch, and we're still some of the top-scoring soldiers out there. There were one hundred of us – we all ended up as officers."

Hunter nodded, frowning a little with surprise.

"Despite that, I pulled my own share of idiotic stunts when I was younger. And when we were in our eighth and ninth years? I don't remember a single one of us who didn't end up in medbay or being reprimanded by superiors – or both – because we'd been stupid."

Hunter continued to watch almost unblinkingly.

"During my last year of training, I broke my hand punching a droid," Cody went on calmly. "And not just once, but three times. The third time it happened, the medic-in-training was so mad he wouldn't give me painkillers before he set it. Said the pain would help me remember."

"Did it?" Hunter asked.

"Not as well as it should have." Cody gestured. "Hand-to-hand is my top skill in physical combat, and when I'm in the middle of a fight, I don't stop to think. I still make mistakes."

Hunter didn't change his expression, but Cody could see the disbelief in his eyes.

He decided to permanently destroy that disbelief. "Hunter, I'm on medical leave because I took a laser through one lung, right? Well, that happened because I tackled a commando droid."

There was an utterly shocked silence that lasted for about ten seconds. "You tackled a commando droid," Hunter repeated at last. "Why?"

"It was aiming at my lieutenant," Cody said. "Thinking back, I could have shot its head off just as fast as tackling it, but it didn't occur to me in the moment."

"But –" Hunter gave his head a quick shake. "I thought –"

"You thought that since I'm a commander, I must be perfect at everything, right?"

Hunter flushed again. ". . . I guess."

"Well, son, I've got news for you." Cody rested an arm across his shoulders and turned him to face the trail. "Just because you're an officer doesn't mean you will ever be perfect, or that you should be, or that you're not allowed to make mistakes, or that you can even avoid mistakes. In war, there are no cut-and-dry rules to memorize for every situation. You've got to do the best with what you have – the trick is to learn from your mistakes . . . and," he added dryly. "Learn from other's mistakes. For example, don't tackle commando droids when you've got better options."

Hunter let out a silent laugh, but Cody could tell he was considering Cody's previous words.

Cody waited for a moment, then went on. "You might not be able to prevent your men from getting hurt, but you can try. And when you fail, because you will, you have to pick yourself up and keep going. Learn from your mistakes, Hunter. Don't let them drag you down."

"But –" Hunter took a deep breath. "Commander, what if I keep making the same mistakes? Like with the laser field? The instructors on Kamino always say 'practice', but what if my getting better at something makes everyone else worse?"

"You're talking about your squad mates, I take it."

"Yeah." Hunter's fists were clenched at his sides as he walked. "What if I learn to get them through the laser field without them getting shocked, but by the time I do they're so upset and irritated that they don't trust me?"

"Ah." Cody paused again and turned Hunter to face him. "That's what's really been bothering you, isn't it? Not the laser field – whether your men trust you or not."

Hunter nodded quietly, looking down at the ground. "If I can't make them trust me, I can't . . . keep them safe."

"Hunter." Cody shook his head, feeling a pang of sympathy. "You don't make people trust you. And even when they trust you with their lives, that trust won't necessarily keep them safe."

The young sergeant returned his gaze for a moment, then folded his arms defensively. "Won't it – help?"

Cody studied him for a moment. "Do you know how many of my men have died under my direct command, in the field?"

"No, sir."

"Forty-six." Cody kept his voice steady. "I knew each of those men, Hunter, and they trusted me to lead them. And the rest of them in my personal company, the ones who survived – they still trust me to lead them. Do you know why?"

Hunter shook his head mutely.

"Because they know that I put them first."

The sergeant's eyes grew abruptly confused.

Cody gave his shoulder a slight shake. "I didn't say I send them into the battlefield first, Hunter," he said gently. "Sometimes I have to, but that's not the point. I said I put them first. Their good comes before my own, and they know it, and that's why they trust me even after I made a call that sent eight men needlessly to their deaths."

Hunter flinched all over.

"Believe me, I don't take that lightly. But the others trust me to want what's best for them, and to make decisions accordingly. Do you know what would have broken their trust?"

". . . No, sir."

"If I had let that error shake my confidence so much that I'd given up my command and let someone else lead them."

Hunter rubbed his jaw with his right hand and stared at the ground for several seconds, as though trying to understand that. "But if someone's better suited –"

"If someone's better suited to understand a situation in battle, then I consider advice from that person," Cody said. "But if you're the one who's been given the position, Hunter, then you're responsible to see that you fill it properly. There's always going to be bad intel, and situations where neither choice will get good results, and battles where you go in knowing you're going to lose. You're going to make mistakes, there's always going to be something you could have done better. You may even make a bad choice one day through your own fault. But if you don't pick yourself up after that, and remember what your job is and why and carry through on it . . . well, that's when you really fail as a leader. You understand me, Sergeant?"

Hunter nodded numbly, still gazing at the snow-covered ground.

Cody waited a moment, then said, "Look at me, Hunter."

He obeyed.

"I've been telling you that your men come first. Well – based on what I've seen, I think you already know that and try to act on it."

"I do, sir." There. That at least was spoken with conviction.

"Well, then. You're on the right track, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir." Hunter suddenly looked less weighed down, and he fell in beside Cody as they started walking again, their boots squeaking faintly in the dry snow. A few paces later, he added, with self-deprecating humor, "I guess I haven't given the others much reason to be confident, have I?"

"Maybe not recently. But they trust you more than you think. Wrecker knew you were going to make mistakes, and he was more than willing to follow you. He's able to get past your own lack of confidence and encourage you."

Hunter nodded. "Yeah. Wrecker's always been good that way."

"As for Tech and Crosshair . . . Well, right now, they're a lot more sure of themselves than they are of you when it comes to particulars. But they still have to learn to follow. Not only that, but I'll bet if you asked them, they'd all say they'd rather follow than be in charge."

"Yeah." A hesitant smile flickered over Hunter's face. "When the Kaminoan psychologist talked with Tech, she said he showed signs of 'responsibility befitting an officer, should the need arise'. So right while she was signing his report, Tech sliced his psychology eval and altered it. Just eight letters, and it read, 'irresponsibility unbefitting an officer, even should the need arise. The psychologist sent it in to the higher-ups without ever noticing."

Cody held back a laugh with difficulty. I honestly don't know how these boys haven't gotten in huge trouble by now. "He was never caught?"

"No, sir. Well – we found out, because he told us. He's not – he hasn't altered any files since then."

"But he reads 'em all?"

"Only our files." Hunter looked briefly uncomfortable, then sighed. "Ah, except – he did read up on your records and mission reports after you first spoke with us, sir."

Cody raised an eyebrow. "They're available to anyone with the proper clearance. Of course, the mission reports are probably way above Tech's clearance level."

"Tech doesn't have a clearance level, sir," Hunter said in mild confusion. "Or if he does we never knew about it."

"So he just – locates whatever files he wants?"

"Yes, sir, unless they're too encrypted even for him."

Oh, Force. Cody could just imagine the slow, wicked grin that would spread across a certain Jedi General's bearded face should he discover that. I am never introducing Tech to General Kenobi, he vowed silently. There are too many Senators that he'd be tempted to blackmail.

Upon reflection, Cody added Fox to the list of people Tech was never allowed to meet. Oh, and whatever Jedi served as crime investigators and worked with the Coruscant Guard. He'd not looked into the particulars yet, but he knew there was at least one.

As they neared the bottom of the hill, Wrecker's voice rang out. "Crosshair, you little sneak! Get back here!"

There was a blur of motion through the last few trees – presumably Crosshair trying to escape Wrecker.

As they entered the clearing, Wrecker flattened the sniper, lifting a snowball in one hand. Tech leaped onto Wrecker's shoulders, both hands full of snow, and smacked it down Wrecker's head.

"HEY!" Wrecker stood with a yelp and grabbed Tech, yanking him over his head to land in the snowbank beside Crosshair.

Crosshair kicked him in the ankle, and then he and Tech both scrambled to get away, too late. Wrecker fell right on top of them.

Smirking at their antics, Cody headed towards them.

"Commander Cody," Hunter said from behind him. When Cody looked at him, he finished. "Thank you, sir. I . . . really appreciate . . ." He stumbled a little, as though trying to find the right words.

Cody smiled. "Understood, Hunter."

A happy New Year's Eve (and a happy New Year) to all of you! :)