It had been a week, and Keltor still wasn't used to being saluted, and he probably never will. Nor had he gotten used to his new regimen. He'd wake up, meditate before going to eat, go back to his quarters, meditate for what seemed to be five seconds before someone would knock on his hatch. Usually, it was a Clone bringing him a message, a couple times; it was Master Rahn wanting to train him on something.
This time it was a Clone, and as soon as he opened the hatch, he came to a crisp salute, "General Rahn requests you in the training area, sir."
"Thank you, trooper, you are dismissed," said Keltor. The Trooper nodded and walked down the hall; he must have had a laundry list of messages to give. He used the force to retrieve his Lightsaber from the incredibly uncomfortable bed. Honestly, he'd probably get a better night's sleep on the durasteel floor than on whatever that mattress was made of.
On his way to the training area, he must have encountered most of the battalion, and by the time he got to the training area, the phrase "at ease" was starting to sound wrong. Then as if on instinct, when Master Rahn greeted him, Keltor responded with, "at ease."
It caught her off guard, and for a moment, Keltor was really starting to consider which was more painful. The Airlock, or his own Lightsaber. "Sorry, Master, It's become an unconscious greeting."
Master Rahn nodded slowly, "Okay then, anyways, today I want to go through some force moves. You know how to pull and push things with the force?" He nodded, and she continued, "excellent, you see that training droid? Lift it off the ground and move it five meters in any direction."
She pointed to a skeletal-looking droid painted in gray and yellow. This wasn't even a challenge. He reached out with the force and pictured a large hand grabbing and lifting the droid. He used an outstretched hand to help visualize grabbing and lifting the droid.
The droid hovered in mid-air for a moment, and Keltor thought that it was a lot heavier than it looked, but he managed to keep the droid aloft and moved it five meters to the left. He gently lowered the droid and pulled back from the warm embrace of the force.
"Good, now I want you to push it as hard as you can into that wall over there." He did as requested, this time hurling the droid into the far wall; as it hit the wall, a leg and the head popped off, and the droid clattered to the floor in a heap.
Master Rahn continued to test his skill with the force, he did well on most tasks, but a few things like force step and force leap eluded him. For some reason, he just couldn't perform those skills. After almost an hour of trying, Master Rahn sighed and shrugged, "Well, I guess you can't do that kind of stuff yet. Ah well, it's fine. Alright, you up for a little meditating?"
Most of his free time had been meditating, and he wanted to work on his lightsaber skills before he got out of practice. But she was his Master, so whatever she said goes. "Alright."
"Excellent," Master Rahn then led him to her quarters, and they both sat on the cold durasteel floor, their legs crossed, and fell into silence as they meditated. He felt the gentle thrum of the ship's engines, with the occasional thudding of boots from troopers from the hall.
He let his mind wander; memories of him and Master Ta played out in his head, sometimes he felt one of the troopers passing by, their signature in the force fainter than most, but they were thousands of twinkling stars against the black backdrop of space. He heard their thoughts and understood their feelings. Most were bored, a few were entertaining themselves by reading, listening to music, or drawing, although none were that good at it. Some were hoping that they'd have cookies for dessert tonight, and a passing trooper was wondering what the color red tastes like. Keltor found it slightly amusing; they seemed more like children than adults. Keltor dismissed that thought; they were soldiers, highly capable soldiers to boot.
He turned his attention to Master Rahn; her force presence was blinding compared to the Clones. As he focused on Master Rahn, he realized that she was curious about him; she wondered who and what he was. He wondered that too sometimes.
Master Rahn didn't try and force her way into his mind, just lingering on the surface, peering into his mind. She could hear his immediate thoughts and could feel his current emotions, but nothing more.
He remembered doing this for the first time with Master Ta; he did the same thing, just lingered on the surface. He let Keltor become comfortable with his presence before attempting to go any further. "You still miss Master Ta," It was a statement he couldn't deny.
"Yes, I do," replied Keltor in an even tone.
Master Rahn chided, "You must let go of him, Jedi, do not form attachments."
He knew that already, but it wasn't like he could make himself not feel sad about Master Ta's death! What was he supposed to do? Quash his emotions? Ignore them?
"Calm down; I know you're frustrated; I understand what you are dealing with. But you must let go of your former Master." Master Rahn's words had the opposite effect. If anything, Keltor was starting to get angry with her.
He scowled and asked, "And what's so bad about missing someone I was close with? What am I gonna do? Turn to the Dark Side?"
Master Rahn maintained her composure, "That is something that can occur. Attachments can lead to pain, pain can lead to hate, and hate leads to suffering."
Keltor tried to think of a response, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he just continued to scowl, refusing to play her ridiculous game about not forming attachments or controlling his emotions. Master Ta always said they were a natural part of life, and instead of rejecting them, he needed to embrace them, but that he needed to be careful that they don't control him.
After a moment, Master Rahn spoke softly, "Quiet your mind, listen to the force, let it guide you."
Pushing aside his thoughts about attachments, he relaxed and let himself sink further into the warm embrace of the force. The deeper he sunk, the more peaceful he felt. Eventually, he felt all of his anger wash away.
There was a chime at the door, causing Master Rahn to sigh; her frustration cascaded into his mind like a tidal wave. So much so that even Keltor started to feel immensely frustrated. Master Rahn took a deep breath to calm down, then said, "Enter."
The door swished open, and a clone stood in the doorway, "I'm sorry to disturb you, General, but you have an urgent message from General's Skywalker and Kenobi."
Master Rahn's eyebrows furrowed, then slowly stood up, "Alright then, come along, Keltor, let's go see what kind of mess Skywalker and Kenobi have stirred up."
When they arrived on the bridge, they saw a hologram of Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker, and Ahsoka. Master Kenobi turned to face them, and Master Rahn bowed; Keltor quickly followed suit, "Greetings, Master Kenobi, what can I assist you with?"
Master Kenobi nodded, then said, "We seem to be in a spot of trouble and could use some reinforcements. Our forces are severely depleted, and we can't mount a proper offensive. If you wouldn't mind loaning your battalion to us, that would be a huge help."
Master Rahn nodded, "Of course, Master Kenobi."
Master Kenobi relaxed a little, and a small smile appeared on his face, "Thank you, Knight Rahn. We look forward to your arrival." The holograms fizzled out as the connection was terminated. A comms officer then said, "General, we received a data package from General Kenobi."
"Send it to my tablet," replied Master Rahn.
"Havoc check mic," said Captain Fisk.
The Trooper he was addressing replied, "Fuzzy, but I can read you, sir."
"Reset your commlink; that should fix the problem," Captain Fisk patted the Trooper on the shoulder.
The Trooper switched their comm off and back on again, "Check mic."
"Green mic," replied Captain Fisk, then he shuffled his way down the gunship, stood next to Keltor, and asked, "Nervous, sir?"
Keltor shook his head. Surprisingly he wasn't nervous; he knew that he should be; this was the first time he'd be going into battle. But for some reason, he didn't feel nervous at all; if anything, he felt calm. The clones, on the other hand, were a mess of emotions. He could tell that many of them were nervous, some were scared, and a few we're excited. Even Captain Fisk, who had a mask of calm, was struggling to keep his fear in check.
The gunship shook, jostling everyone; one Trooper chuckled and said, "That was a close one."
"Shut it vod, keep talking like that, and you'll jinx us," said another trooper.
One Clone up at the front who was busy checking over their rifle looked up and added, "Again."
Several troopers chuckled and even continued when the gunship violently shook. Keltor clutched the handhold as if his life depended on it, which it probably did.
There was a *bing* as the Pilot got everyone's attention and said over the speakers, "Sorry about the turbulence, flacks a bit heavy today. But nothing to worry about," the gunship shook again, then lurched to the right. He and the clones were thrown to the side, and a couple, including Keltor, were now holding the strap with both hands.
"We'll be landing in about a minute. It's a sunny day, boys, and a balmy 33 degrees, perfect for sunbathing. As the gunship comes to a complete stop, the two large side doors will open, and you will be allowed to safely exit the craft. Thank you for flying with the GARAF, and we hope you fly with us again soon." Keltor felt his stomach drop as the front of the gunship suddenly tilted up, and then it came to a halt. The doors opened, and the Clones and Keltor leapt out of the gunship.
Several meters away, another gunship landed, and Master Rahn and several troopers disembarked. The troopers walked towards a group of giant six-legged walkers, smaller two-legged walkers, and several hover tanks roughly fifty meters in front of the gunships. As they got close, a clone with blue markings saluted them, "General Rahn, we are ready to begin the attack on your order."
"Very good, Lieutenant," Master Rahn nodded to the Trooper, then turned to Captain Fisk, "Captain, ready the men; we're moving out."
Captain Fisk saluted, "Right away, sir."
As Captain Fisk rounded up the Company, Master Rahn rolled her shoulders, "You ready, Keltor?"
He nodded, "I think I am."
"You think? Or you know?" asked Master Rahn.
Keltor thought for a moment, then said, "I know I am."
Master Rahn nodded, "Good, come on. Let's get this pain train rolling." She gestured for him to follow as she walked toward the large walkers. Keltor noticed that the battalion had gathered around the tanks and was waiting for something, probably the signal to move out. "Mount up!" yelled Master Rahn, and all the troopers got into the walkers or into the hover tanks.
Keltor followed Master Rahn into a walker with green markers, probably to signify it was the command vehicle. The inside of the walker was cramped; it didn't help when 18 other clones packed themselves into the rear compartment. They sat down on hard, uncomfortable seats and strapped themselves in with a harness that clicked into place.
Master Rahn picked up a headset, put it on, and then spoke, "All units move out." On her order, the walker lurched forward; the smooth gait was interrupted by the random up and down of the terrain. From the front compartment, the tank commander informed Master Rahn that they were almost in firing range of Separatist positions.
Master Rahn spoke into her headset, "Battalion prepare to disembark; tanks continue to move in; we need to break through this line." The smooth gait from earlier disappeared as the walker accelerated.
The walker continued to sway from side to side, and Keltor started to feel queasy. Master Rahn didn't look much better, her face slowly turning pale. After a couple more minutes, a trooper suddenly wrenched his helmet off and vomited all over the floor.
Keltor looked away and saw Master Rahn trying her very best to not vomit as well. But try as she might, once the smell hit her, she couldn't hold it in any longer, and she leaned over and spewed.
He had to look up now and tried to ignore the acrid smell now stinking up the compartment. Up front, he heard the tank commander stifle a laugh. A few other troopers were shaking their heads, amusement radiating off them. The Trooper beside the one that vomited groaned, "Come on, Chunks, did you really have to throw up on my boot?"
There was a snort from several of the clones, and a couple even started laughing. But the laughing stopped when there was an abrupt *BOOOM* from outside. The tank shook, and Keltor gripped his harness tightly. One of the troopers muttered, "Kiff, that was close."
Keltor tried not to think about it. He tried not about how he was crammed in a small armored box swaying from side to side. He tried to ignore the earth-shattering explosions from outside.
The tank shuddered again, but the blast seemed to be coming from the large gun mounted on top. There were more muffled explosions from outside and more blasts from the tank's cannon. Each time the main gun fired, the entire cabin shook.
"General, we're approaching the disembarkation point," reported the tank commander.
Master Rahn whipped her mouth and croaked, "Good."
A few seconds later, the tank came to a stop, and everyone quickly did their harnesses and grabbed their weapons; Keltor clutched his Lightsaber as the ramp at the end of the tank lowered.
The troopers rushed out; Keltor heard what sounded like pebbles being thrown at the tank's armor and a yell from outside. He and Master Rahn ran after the troopers; Master Rahn ignited her Lightsaber, and Keltor, following her lead, did the same. As they descended the ramp, Keltor froze.
On the ground next to the ramp was a trooper with a hole in his chest armor; smoke curled out of the hole. There was a faint yet distinct metallic smell, along with the scent of frying meat. It was a revolting smell.
The Trooper wasn't moving, and a medic was already moving on to the next Trooper in need. "Keltor! Focus!" Master Rahn had to shout over the booming explosions and ear-piercing blaster fire.
Right, he had a job to do, which was to fight droids.
His grip on his Lightsaber tightened, and he followed Master Rahn onto the battlefield.
He and Master Rahn pushed forward, deflecting blaster fire as they did, and rejoined the troops still assaulting the separatist line. The troopers had found a small hill with a few trees and rocks that seemed relatively safe from the separatists' lines of fire. "Captain! Status report!" shouted Master Rahn.
Captain Fisk turned to face her and reported, "We managed to disembark in good order, no tanks lost so far, a handful of casualties, but we should have enough strength to break through this position and move on!"
"Good work, Captain!" Master Rahn peered over the small hill and ducked as a shot hit the crystalline dirt. "Keltor, you and I will lead the charge, Captain; follow close behind!"
Captain Fisk nodded, "Sir, yes, sir!"
He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, then nodded to Master Rahn. Then they crested the small hill, and under a hail of blaster fire, they charged forward. Oddly, Keltor didn't feel afraid as red bolts kicked up dirt all around him; if anything, he felt a deep calm.
Keltor deftly deflected red bolts back towards the droids as he charged forward; he got so caught up in his charge that he even ran past Master Rahn. He barely heard her cry of "slow down" before he was leaping down into the separatist trench onto a droid.
The droid seemed surprised and let out a garbled "Woah," and before it had a chance to recover, he sliced the droid's spindly head clean off. Then quickly turned to the next, using his Lightsaber to cut through its chest. Then another droid, by the time the third had collapsed to the ground, Master Rahn had caught up with him and deflected a bolt from behind him.
He and Master Rahn continued to cut through the droids for another few seconds when the clones arrived. Once they jumped into the trench, the droids didn't even stand a chance.
After the last droid fell, Master Rahn extinguished her Lightsaber and pointed a finger at him, "When I say slow down, you slow down! When I say wait, you wait! You're lucky I was fast enough to stop that droid from executing you!"
Keltor bowed his head in apology, "I'm… I'm sorry, Master. I got caught up in it all, and I guess I got ahead of myself."
Master Rahn glared at him and crossed her arms; then, after a moment, she said, "Next time, follow my directions. Let's get moving."
Keltor pushed down his self-disappointment and followed Master Rahn.
They crawled forward, peering over the ledge with their macrobinoculars down at the Airfield. It was a large facility with four high walls, a tall tower, with several hangers, warehouses, and fuel storage tanks lining the runway. The area was crawling with droids and tanks.
"That's gonna be a tough nut to crack," commented Captain Fisk.
"Indeed," replied Master Rahn.
They crawled back, and Captain Fisk asked, "What's the plan, General?"
"Simple, we storm the facility, overwhelm the enemy with speed and surprise, and take the airfield." Master Rahn made it seem so simple.
On the other hand, Captain Fisk had misgivings, "Sir, with all due respect, but that plan doesn't sound wise. We'll have the firepower to take it, but we also need to hold it."
Master Rahn seemed to consider Captain Fisk's comment, then said, "I see your point, Captain; what would you propose then?"
"A platoon supported by the AT-TEs draws out the main force; two more Platoons flank the main force with the remaining tanks and annihilate them. At the same time, the last Platoon storms and captures the Airfield." To Keltor, Captain Fisk's plan sounded riskier. But Captain Fisk was a soldier trained in his; he probably knew what he was talking about.
"I see," muttered Master Rahn, "Captain, assemble your best to take the Airfield. Keltor, go with him. I'll work on drawing out the enemy."
Captain Fisk nodded, then Keltor, Master Rahn, and Captain Fisk mounted their speeders and headed back towards their forces. Once the rest of the company was briefed on the plan, the Platoon targeting the Airfield mounted speeders and light walkers, then split off from the main group. Master Rahn'sRahn's parting words were, "May the Force be with you." Keltor replied with the typical response of, "And also with you."
A few moments later, the Platoon arrived at a point approximately four kilometers northwest of the Airfield and waited for Master Rahn's signal that she'd engaged the enemy.
As they waited, the troopers talked amongst each other or made sure their weapons were clean and ready to use. One of the troopers nearby turned to him, "Commander, can I ask you something?"
Keltor was puzzled by the Trooper; usually, they clammed up around him and Master Rahn, let alone asked them questions. It took a moment before Keltor managed to respond, "S-sure."
"Well, I've heard some about the Jedi, but is it true that you can read people's minds?" The Trooper seemed genuinely curious.
Keltor nodded, "Yes, most Jedi can read minds, and if you're wondering, I am one of those Jedi who can."
Even with the helmet on, Keltor could tell that the Trooper found it fascinating, "So you can tell what I'm thinking?"
Keltor nodded, wondering where this was going.
"So, what number am I thinking of?" Keltor tried not to facepalm.
But apparently, his deadpan expression was enough for Captain Fisk to step in, "Knock it off, Count. We all know you're thinking of the color purple."
Count turned to the Captain and said, "fine," then turned and trudged back to a few troopers standing around a bike, their shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Sorry about that, Commander; Count's not exactly the best-mannered Trooper I know. Well, none of the men are really." Captain Fisk rested his hand on one of the pistols in his holsters.
"Don't worry, Captain, I don't mind, really." Captain Fisk seemed to relax a little; relief flowed from him like a cooling river. "By the way, he was thinking of a meiloorun fruit."
Count then shouted, "I KNEW IT! PAY UP, YOU KRIFFING LIERS!" The troopers standing around Count's speeder grumbled as they took out several items and handed them over to Count.
They bet on that? Seriously? Captain Fisk sighed, "That's Count for you. With him are Highroller, Ticket, and Snacker." Then he muttered more to himself than to Keltor, "gotta be the worst bunch of gamblers in the republic army."
"Captain, can I ask a personal question?" Captain Fisk seemed a little taken aback by his request.
"Depends, Sir; what kind of question?" replied Captain Fisk.
"How'd you all get your names?" That particular question had been weighing heavily on him for the last week, but he'd never found the right time to ask it.
Captain Fisk smiled, then said in a light tone, "It's because we hate being called numbers. All clones are assigned one by the long necks." Keltor had no idea who the long necks were, but they didn't sound remotely kind. "So during training, we gave each other nicknames. Typically because of some unique habit or trait we have. Although a few of us picked our own names." He guessed that Captain Fisk was one of those few. "Count has a particularly odd trait of counting things, don't play cards with him."
Keltor nodded, "Noted." Although it was improbable that he'd participate in any gambling whatsoever.
Captain Fisk continued, "From right to left, Highroller loves to make extravagant bets, especially for luxury items like holo films or chocolate. Ticket's the guy who usually facilitates the bets; he's apparently got an entire list of ongoing bets on some holo pad he's got tucked away somewhere; he rarely participates. And Snacker, well, he loves snacks."
Keltor made sure to remember those names; he hoped that by remembering their names, they'd come to respect him more. There was a crackle over coms, and Keltor quickly replied, "Say again you're breaking up."
"We've beg-ssult, st-tack." He recognized Master Rahn's voice and looked up to Captain Fisk, who shrugged.
Keltor spoke into the mic, enunciating each word carefully, "Did you say to begin the attack?"
"Aff-mative," replied Master Rahn.
Keltor nodded, "I think that's a clear enough sign," then turned to the rest of the Platoon and shouted over the din of noise, "MOUNT UP! WE'RE MOVING OUT!"
The troopers scrambled to mount their vehicles as Keltor swung his leg over his speeder; then, as one, the Platoon followed Keltor as they charged forward towards the looming walls of the separatist-controlled airport.
As they approached, he saw that a few tanks had stayed behind with the small defensive force; Captain Fisk signaled to the small walkers to break off and engage them. There were cries from the troopers as they turned and fearlessly charged the AATs.
Soon the enemy tanks were overwhelmed and destroyed. At the same time, the rest of the Platoon had approached the walls, dismounted, and attached their ascension cables. Keltor and the troopers started scaling the walls, but when they were halfway up the walls, droids poked their heads over the side and started shooting down at them. Keltor used his Lightsaber to deflect shots coming his direction while still climbing, while troopers on the ground fired up at the droids.
Despite their best efforts, several troopers climbing the walls were killed, but the droids were destroyed, and before more droids could replace them, Keltor and two squads of troopers reached the top. Inside, there was another tank, and when a droid pointed to them, its turret turned in their direction. "TAKE COVER!" shouted Captain Fisk, and he, along with the troopers, dove to the side as the tank's cannon boomed.
Its shot thankfully missed him and the troopers; he spotted more droids in the airport converging on them; Keltor jumped from the wall, landing on the duracrete ground with a jarring *thud.*
A maelstrom of red bolts flew around him. Using his blue blade, he cleaved a path through the fire, the clones on the wall firing down on the droids.
He felt a surge of strength and charged the droids, their numbers quickly being reduced by the Clone's rapid and deadly fire.
He sliced through a droid on his right, deflected a shot from his left, pushed three droids in front with the force, deflected more shots to his right, cut a large gray droid in half, blocked a shot from a droid to the left, and decapitated the last droid.
He was breathing heavily, his arms trembled slightly, but he recovered quickly. The clones rapidly descended the wall and joined him, "Captain, get that gate open; I'll deal with the tank."
"Sir, yes, Sir!" Captain Fisk, along with the troopers, sprinted towards the tower, blasting any droid that tried to stop them; the tank's barrel slowly turned, trying to follow the clones as they raced across the Airfield.
Keltor sprung forward, quickly closing the gap between him and the tank before the crew noticed. He leapt onto the tank's hull, and in a single swipe, the cannon barrel clanged to the ground. The main hatch opened, and a droid with yellow markings poked its head out, "What the?"
Using the remaining barrel, Keltor hoisted himself up and onto the turret; the droid took one look at him, then tried to scramble down back into the tank. Using the force, Keltor lifted the droid out of the tank and tossed it to the side. He stuck his head down the hatch the droid was in but only found a small compartment with several screens; one flashed red and had large bold lettering that read "Main Cannon Damaged."
Then through a small gap between the floor and turret basket, he saw movement. That must be where the Pilot was! How was he supposed to get into the other compartment?
He felt the tank lurch forward, causing him to tumble headfirst into the turret. He barely managed to catch himself from hitting his head on the durasteel floor. A long face looked into the turret compartment at him and said in a whiny metallic voice, "Hey, you're not authorized to be in there!"
"Here's your authorization," grunted Keltor as he used the force to slam the droid into the wall, then against another wall, then another. These droids were surprisingly sturdy; it took several attempts before it broke into several pieces.
The Pilot looked back and said, "Uh oh," before it was ripped out of its seat and suffered a similar fate as the other droid. The tank came to a stop, and now Keltor had to figure out how to get out.
As Keltor squirmed, trying to right himself, he muttered, "There's got to be a better way to do this." After a healthy amount of cursing and several minutes of trying to upright himself, he froze when he heard footsteps on the hull. Did he destroy that droid earlier? With how sturdy the other two were, it might have survived the force throw.
He continued trying to upright himself, but as the footsteps clanked on the turret's roof, he knew he would never get out before the droid got to him.
As he had expected, the droid with yellow markings looked down at him, its expressionless eyes locked with him; in one of its hands, it gripped a blaster. "I've got you now, Jedi!" As it pointed the blaster down at him, he ignited his Lightsaber, ignoring the sparks flying from it as the blade cut into the side of the turret and through the sensitive electronics.
But as the droid was squeezing the trigger, a blue bolt impacted its head, causing it to fly off. The body froze in place, but Keltor didn't dare deactivate his Lightsaber just in case it started moving again or the blaster went off.
Less than a minute later, a Clone had come and stuck his head through the hatch and asked, "Are you alright, sir?"
Keltor nodded and deactivated his Lightsaber, "Could you, um, help me out of here?"
The Clone nodded, a hint of amusement in his tone, "Right away, sir."
After the Clone helped him out of the turret, he nodded to the Trooper, "Thank you, umm, what's your name?"
"Potshot, sir," answered the Trooper.
Kriff, this was embarrassing. "Please don't tell the Captain about me, umm," he couldn't finish the sentence. "Thank you, Potshot," finished Keltor.
"Don't worry, sir, I won't say a word," replied Potshot.
"Thank you," said Keltor. At least only one Trooper would know about his episode of being stuck in a tank. He and Potshot made their way down the tank, and Keltor activated his comm, "Captain Fisk, report."
"Stand by," he waited with bated breath, but from what he'd seen today, these clones were more than up to the task of taking a control center. A moment later, Captain Fisk, or who he presumed to be Captain Fisk, reported, "Control center is ours, the all clear has been sent out, the airfield has been captured."
And that's a wrap folks. I um, I notice that I didn't write a fun fact for the last chapter, so I'll put two this time round. Also, I have no idea how clones actually conducted operations in the Clone Wars so I'm just kinda winging things. If you didn't understand what was going on during the battle, let me just break it down. So the 202nd deployed a single company to capture a sepratist airfield. They met with a tank company, which I don't think those actually existed in star wars lore, also ATTE's apparently didn't have tank commanders, which makes no damn sense. So I added an extra trooper to the original crew of like, three I think (A pilot, an assistant pilot, and a gunner) if that assistant is the commander, I'll eat my fucking laptop. Commanders should only have one job, commanding the tank, nor should they be up front where there's a big ass window.
As much as I love the ATTE, I can't help but think, "There's a better way to do this fellas." But enough of me ranting, onto the normal stuff.
I do not own Star Wars.
Now for the fun facts section!
Some Jedi did not participate in the Clone Wars and outright refused to be commanders in the GAR. When this happened in the sith wars the Jedi council basically threw them out of the order and confiscated their lightsaber. They didn't do this in the Clone Wars, and some Jedi who refused to fight were turned by Count Dooku and fought for the separatists. One of the Jedi who did this was Quinlinn Voss. But then he fell in love with Ventress and the two just tried to detach themselves as much as possible from the war, but unfortunately Ventress died, and Voss rejoined the Order for a short while until Order 66 was enacted.
The next fun fact is, before lightsabers were invented, and even for a while after, both Light and Dark Side users used normal weapons like swords and pikes. What they would do was embune their weapon with their force signature, and when they did that the weapon in question became exponentially stronger and more deadly. Most of these weapons were able to withstand contact with lightsabers, however, like beskar, it would melt with prolonged contact. So when lightsabers became more portable, these more traditional weapons fell out of usage.