Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone for their patience in waiting for this chapter to come out, and thanks for the comments on the last chapter. I found them to be quite helpful, and have attempted to revise those problems for future chapters. On the same note, I had some difficulty putting this chapter together; it felt like I was working with pieces of a puzzle, rather than the random junk I usually pull out of my mind. Naturally, this was in part because the plotline of this chapter is now intersecting with part of the plot from Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, so I wanted to get it as correct as possible. With that in mind, all you diehards out there that are just dying to criticize some part of this chapter or the story as a whole… please do. After all, the objective isn't to get it done, it's to get it done right.

Need-To-Know:

Less than two minutes after Delta Squad left the destroyed fortress behind, the roar of at least a dozen Republic drop ships filled the air, passing overhead and then fading away as they descended into the forest to deploy their soldiers and light armor. As expected, no anti-aircraft fire rose to meet them. Despite the sense of satisfaction over a job well done, 3-8 resisted the urge to contact the drop ships. There was no need for the pilots to know that Delta Squad was in the area; it would be better for the commandos if they maintained comm silence. The immediate vicinity seemed clear, but he could already hear the thunder of what could only be a large scale battle taking place a few klicks ahead, due west. They hurried toward it, eager to reach Battalion Six and rejoin the fight.

Suddenly, just as 3-8 estimated they were still at least two klicks out from the battle site, his receivers crackled in his ear. "Unknown clone units, this is Battalion Three command. State your identity and your purpose in this region."

3-8 nodded to himself in satisfaction. Someone was keeping a close eye on their surroundings with the use of some powerful sensor equipment. "This is Delta 3-8," he responded. "I'm in command of Delta Squad. We've been ordered to rendezvous at your coordinates with Battalion Six."

"Delta 3-8, I do not have your ID tags on my sensors. I have no way to confirm your identity. Please hold position until I can verify."

3-8 waved a hand at 6-2 and 4-0, motioning for them to keep moving. "We're a commando unit, B3 command," he said curtly. "We don't carry ID tags. Standby for confirmation via burst transmission."

"Acknowledged, standing by."

3-8 tapped a button on the pad on his wrist guard that had been installed for just this purpose, sending a pre-coded transmission that would allow regular clone soldiers just enough access to the central Republic military computer systems to verify that Delta Squad was, indeed, who they said they were.

The reply came back a moment later. "Identity and standing orders confirmed, Delta Squad. Be aware that Battalion Six is currently engaged in heavy fighting with Separatist forces in terrain quadrants three and four. You are advised to rendezvous with Jedi Master Yoda, who is currently directing B6. I'm uploading his coordinates to your HUD now."

"Copy that, B3 command. Delta 3-8, out."

"Whoa, did I hear that right?" Scorch asked as 3-8 terminated the transmission. "They never told us that they'd be sending Jedi along on this one. This whole mess must be bigger than we were told."

"It usually is," Fixer put in somberly as they continued jogging along the forest floor. "This isn't the first time they haven't told us everything, you know."

"Need-to-know basis," 3-8 said as a flashing green icon appeared on his HUD, indicating Master Yoda's position. "Right now, all we need to know is that our chain of command just got a lot heavier."

They continued through the thick undergrowth on the forest's floor, but as they went, the trees gradually became shorter, and the dense vines, ferns, and other plant life began to thin out. The reason soon became apparent as they spotted the glittering waters of a lake through the trees – and the flash of blaster fire.

"Keep your eyes open," 3-8 cautioned. "My scanners are picking up Geonosian bio signs. They'll be harder to spot than droids would be."

As they got closer and closer to the battle that raged below, they brought their DC-17Ms back up, scanning the terrain in front of them using their scopes to make sure it was clear before they advanced. They kept an eye behind them as well, just in case. Finally, they were nearly out of the trees. Below them, rising at the edge of the forest just before the ferns and grasses ran into the sand on the beach of the lake, one last heavily fortified tower in the trees could be easily seen. A mobile command post was hovering a few meters above the ground at its trunk, surrounded by snipers who were busily picking off any Separatist units that looked like they wanted to take potshots at it. A drop ship was even now lifting off from a nearby open area on the beach, having unloaded its compliment of fully armed and armored clone troopers. A flurry of anti-aircraft fire followed it up, but it casually spun around and lumbered across the lake, raining down a firestorm of concussion missiles and green lasers, cutting a swath of deadly fire and water through the Separatist forces.

"Master Yoda's in that tower," 3-8 said. "We're –" He paused as an alarm chimed in his ear, and a red warning flashed across his screen. PRIORITY ONE ALERT. ACCEPT IMMEDIATELY. "Hold on a moment."

"I'm getting it too," Scorch said. "You know what this means?"

"Chancellor Palpatine himself," Fixer put in as he accepted the alert through his HUD interface.

3-8 watched carefully as a visual message window opened up on his HUD. The Republic crest rotated for a moment on a screen of black, then was suddenly replaced with the visage of a hooded, shadowed face that vaguely looked like Palpatine. But his eyes were different… They were yellow, almost like they were glowing. The voice that spoke in his ear was definitely Palpatine's, but it was sinister somehow, and slightly slurred. It made him shudder. And the words he heard made ice run up and down his spine.

"All units… initiate order 66."

"Right away, sir," 3-8 said automatically, completely forgetting the fact that it was a one-way transmission and that Palpatine could neither see nor hear him.

Then the screen disappeared, leaving him alone with his thoughts, and the suddenly bland lights and readouts of his HUD. This had to be a mistake. But no… he'd heard the words clearly. Order 66. Every clone had that order file implanted in their memories; they all knew what it meant. But it was supposed to be a precautionary measure, a last ditch backup plan for a hypothetical scenario, one that every clone in his right mind knew could never happen. He could almost see the file on his displays know, as he'd seen it on the screen when it had been first implanted, the first file he'd received after medical had designated him as a candidate for clone commando programming.

FILE SIX-SIX OMEGA: JEDI UNITS ARE ATTEMPTING TO OVERTHROW GOVERNMENT AUTHORITY AND OPERATIONS. ELIMINATE ALL JEDI WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE. CODE NAME: ORDER 66.

"Sir?" Fixer's words broke into his thoughts, and he shook himself, looking around blankly. 4-0 was staring back at him, as was 6-2. "Awaiting instructions, sir."

"You all right, Boss?" Scorch asked.

"You heard him," 3-8 replied somberly. "Order 66. Jedi Master Yoda isn't far from our position. He's our new objective."