Author's Note: Well, would you look at that... this story is now part of a community! Head over to the "Archive of Self Inserts and Original Characters" if you'd like to check out some stories with a very unique flavor.

Also, 20K views! Astounding! You all are way too much, thank you all for your constant support and feedback. You have no idea how much it means to me. Thanks also to everyone who voted in the poll I set up, your response has given me some stuff to think about.

Now enough of me, here's a new chapter for you to enjoy!


-Chapter 16: Warning Signs-

Location: Aefao

"There are some things that shouldn't be ignored."

A flash. A thunderous explosion. Intense, unbearable heat. It consumed his body, burning him alive...

Wraith awoke with a sudden roar, bolting upright in his bed. Sweat ran like rivers down his face as he awoke from yet another flashback to the moment he was bombarded from above by cannon rounds.

As the moment faded, Wraith became aware of his surroundings... and how sore his body felt.

Much of his flesh was new, having regrown over many weeks of medicinal treatment in a bacta tank. His hair was short, Clone trooper short, growing back after it had been mangled and scorched. He hated it, but he had no choice as he waited for it to grow back in full. Large portions of his body were wrapped in bandages as a mixture of bacta and kolto continued to heal his more grievous injuries. The white strips of cloth were firmly bound around his chest, right shoulder and arms, not to mention the entirety of his legs.

He felt fine... but he also felt weak. And he absolutely hated to feel weak.

The hissing of an opening door drew his attention as Scipio appeared in his quarters.

"Are you alright, my boy?" The doctor wondered as he knelt by his side. "Another flashback?"

"Yeah..." Wraith grumbled as he breathed deeply. This wasn't the first time he'd suffered from a mental assault after having been nearly killed in an orbital bombardment approximately two weeks ago. Time and time again he'd witnessed the moment being replayed in his mind, as if someone wanted him to remember the moment he was no victor... but rather, a victim.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if this was Sidious' doing.

"After what you've been through, I'm not surprised. You're likely suffering from a form of PTSD." Scipio mused, checking him over.

"I'm... not supposed to..." the soldier groaned as he slowly lay back in bed, "I'm supposed... to be better."

"Relax. You've been through a lot. Even your body needs time to heal." Scipio eased him as he made Wraith comfortable and prepped an injection of L4E-60.

"I've been healing for two weeks." Wraith countered. "What I need is some action."

"That's highly unlikely... unless it's an absolute emergency." Scipio replied. Given he was Wraith's caretaker and physician, he knew better than to push a wounded body as though it were back to full health. Even Wraith needed time to recover.

"I can walk. I can talk. I'm a little tender, but apart from that I'm fine." Wraith argued. Scipio shushed him as he injected the formula into his shoulder.

"There's no arguing with me, my boy. Rest is what you need and rest is what you'll get." The doctor firmly stated. With a sigh of relent, Wraith closed his eyes and quickly drifted back into the slumber he thought he didn't need. Scipio stood up and paused for a moment to view his creation. Even after something so tremendously life-threatening, he still possessed his unshakable iron resolve to get back to the fight.

The boy was truly a miracle.

Synchronizing the nearby heart rate monitors, which broadcasted a signal directly to him, Scipio quietly exited the room as he left Wraith to his desperately needed rest.


Two days later...

It had been a little over two weeks since Wraith had been hauled back to base a charred and smouldering mess, and in that time Scipio had worried and fretted over him nonstop, doing whatever he could to encourage a quick recovery. The damage done to his body by the orbital fire was both slowly and quickly being undone by a combination of medicinal miracles. His burned skin had regenerated almost completely, thanks to constant injections of L4E-60. However, some of his more major injuries, those sustained by unknown circumstances, appeared to need more time and more attention. Scipio had no doubt that even though his skin was renewed, he would probably receive a few scars by the time he was fully healed.

Another factor in Wraith's recovery was how swiftly he regained his strength. Thanks to the serum built in to his body, Wraith soon found himself able to walk around without any assistance. But his body felt tender and weak, feelings he attributed to his newly regrown skin and his entire recovery. Something that could be remedied, he believed, with a single combat mission.

But Scipio would have none of it.

"The war can wait." He would say. "You can't fight the Republic half-healed!" Although he accepted his rapid healing and attributed it to the serum, Scipio only wanted his creation to be at his best. And right now, half-healed was not his best.

Currently, Wraith was busy testing the strength of his left arm, now free from bandages and considered to be fully healed. With a small weight in his hand, Wraith was performing curls as Scipio made notes.

"Looks like your strength certainly hasn't diminished by any means." The Pau'un noted.

"I certainly feel fine." Wraith mused, not pausing his exercise.

"Yes, so you've mentioned... over and over again." Scipio replied with a light chuckle.

"Just trying to avoid atrophy." Wraith told him, very much desiring to be active once again. This bedridden state of his simply wouldn't do, not when there was a war going on he needed to participate in.

"The serum will not allow you to atrophy. Nor would it allow you to die, so it would seem." Scipio replied, muttering the last part. "Nice excuse though. I'm still not letting you go anywhere, not until I'm convinced you are fully healed."

"But I need to get back out there!" Wraith urgently replied. "Not only do the Separatists need me, but my body needs it as well. This new skin needs to toughen up-"

"Just heed my words, would you?" Scipio sighed as he stopped his explanation. "There's no use arguing with me. As your physician and care-taker, I am only giving you what you need... and that is rest!" He stated. Wraith rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Suddenly, the holotable beeped, indicating an incoming communication. The doctor immediately set down his datapad and strode over, activating the communication link. Count Dooku appeared before them seconds later.

"Doctor. I was just checking to see how our super-soldier is doing." He greeted them, getting right to the point of his call.

"If I may, my lord, why don't you ask him yourself?" Scipio replied with a grin, motioning for Wraith to come forward. Rising from the table he had been sitting on and setting down the weight in his hand, Wraith walked into Count Dooku's line of sight and saluted.

"Wraith reporting for duty, sir." He announced. Dooku arched an eyebrow, a slight smile appearing on his face.

"At ease soldier. You're looking quite well." He noted.

"I certainly feel well, sir. I believe all I'd need is a good mission to get me back to full health." Wraith stated. Before Scipio could make another objection, Dooku spoke again.

"In that case, I believe I have something for you. Separatist forces on Aefao are being overrun by a Republic strike force. Aefao is one of the more hotly contested worlds and we must reassert our dominance. The people have allied with us and wish to have nothing to do with the Republic, I need you to go there and fend off the invading Clone armies."

"Sounds like a job right up my alley." Wraith mused. "I'll gear up and be on my way in a moment."

"Just a parsec now!" Scipio interrupted them. "Wraith, I cannot deem you battle-ready just yet. Your body has not fully healed!" He repeated before turning to Count Dooku. "With all due respect, my lord, a battle would only stress Wraith's body even more. It would do the exact opposite of what he hopes it will do!"

"Give me a percentage, Doc," Wraith countered, "where am I at?" Scipio powered up his medical tablet and scrolled through his diagnosis.

"You are approximately eighty-nine point seven percent healed. But some of the more major burn wounds still require-"

"So ninety percent... practically one hundred." Wraith interrupted, deeming himself healed. "That's good enough for me." Turning about, the soldier strode over to another table where his tools and weapons lay. His pistols and carbine had been retrieved from the wrecked ship while his gauntlets had required some serious reconstruction as did his helmet. But it had all been fixed and was waiting to be used.

"But...! But you're-!" Scipio tried to push back.

"No 'buts' Doctor." Wraith interrupted him. "The Separatists have called and I will answer!" He stated, strapping his armored gear around his limbs. "Besides," he mused, slipping on his helmet, "what the Republic doesn't know about my health won't kill them." He stated. Then he paused. "Well... I will kill them anyway..."

"But will it kill you?" Scipio wondered, thinking Wraith might be less overconfident and more in over his head. "I get you want to get back to the fight, but if you're not perfect then you will suffer because of it!" Finishing slipping on his jacket, Wraith turned back to Count Dooku and asked,

"My lord, would you deem the situation on Aefao an emergency?"

"The Aefans certainly would." The count promptly replied. Wraith nodded and turned back to Scipio.

"You said only in an emergency, Doctor. And this is an emergency. Besides, if the Clones can't tell I'm not 'fully' healed then I'm already perfect." Without another word, and not waiting for Scipio to say something else, Wraith turned and made for the exit. "I'll need a rundown of the planet, send it to me as soon as you can." He called over his shoulder as he disappeared behind a closing door. With a mechanical click, the door sealed and Scipio was left alone with Dooku's holographic render. The doctor sighed in defeat.

"I hope you're happy, my lord." He told Dooku. "For the record, I want you to know that this is completely against my better judgement. His AV systems are still offline, I'll have no way of communicating with him."

"I would not be too worried, Doctor." The count replied. "Considering he has survived an orbital assault, I doubt anything short of death can slow him down. I will be sure to check on him for you." As the two conversed, Wraith made his way through the winding corridors of the base towards the landing pad where his shuttle waited. The soldier couldn't help but question Scipio's logic behind keeping him bedridden. He had the science at his disposal, he had the technology to prove Wraith's belief to him and he had every reason to allow him to fight again. Wraith simply couldn't understand why Scipio was being so... foolish.

As far as the commando was concerned, there was nothing wrong with him...


Later, on Aefao...

On the absolute fringes of civilization, Aefao was very much cut off from the rest of the galaxy. Part of the Outer Rim territories, Aefao was a simple, remote world that held little value apart from being the homeworld of the native Aefans.

Apparently it was also of strategic value, which, in Wraith's mind, was the only logical reason the Republic would relentlessly fight for such an isolated planet.

His shuttle landed at the remains of the Separatist base on the planet, now significantly reduced in size given the numerous fallen battle droids that had succumbed to the Republic onslaught.

Fortunately, battle droids were easy to produce... unlike the Republic's Clone troopers, who needed to be bought from their Kaminoian manufacturers.

Just another perk of being a member of the Separatists: business was on your side.

Disembarking from the shuttle, Wraith's optics calibrated and performed a quick scan of the area. Once his HUD was updated, Wraith learned a nearby city had been the recent site of a final confrontation between the Republic and the Separatists. It had now been reduced to little more than rubble and the remains of what might've once been buildings.

No doubt any Clone forces would be busy securing their newly acquired territory. They would become his first targets.

Wraith wasted no time in sucking in a lungful of refreshing air before breaking into a jog as he advanced upon the nearest city. He was convinced this would do him some good. It would be only him and the enemies before him, no interruptions, no one anticipating his arrival, it would be just him and the battles to come. His array of AV equipment was still on the fritz after the orbital blast, leaving Scipio with no way to connect with him. Dooku could though, his long-range comms were still operational. But the count never pestered him like Scipio did.

Wraith was actually grateful someone wouldn't be looking over his shoulder the whole time.

The air of the city was significantly less pure than that near the base. A thick layer of dust and gun smoke hung thick in the air, indicating the battle for territory had only been recently fought. The streets were littered with twisted masses of permacrete and durasteel, creating vast areas that needed to be avoided or vaulted over as he jogged through the city. Rebar stuck out from chunks of debris like part of a fence, creating something reminiscent of spike-balls in certain piles of permacrete. The place was an absolute mess. Fortunately for Wraith, this chaotic environment would be perfect for him if he went on the defensive... and maybe the offensive...

His scans picked up a trio of heat signatures nearby. He couldn't quite tell if they were natives or Clones, but a closer look would soon reveal them. Dropping a little lower and slowing his pace, Wraith lowed the heat sigs as he began to stalk his targets. He took cover behind a pile of permacrete debris and adjusted his audio receptors, hoping to catch an indicator as to whom he was dealing with.

The accented voice immediately gave it away.

"...locals aren't very easy to deal with. Glad I'm on recon instead of crowd control."

"They're Seppies, they joined as soon as they could. What else would you expect?"

Clones. Two for sure, probably a third. They liked to move in groups or squads, trying to play the numbers game as part of a level one tactic of being a team.

Wraith needed no team. He was a predator, stalking a herd of soon-to-be victims. His tactic was the simple premise of striking first, striking fast and striking hard. Very hard. So hard the enemy would never recover... and never survive the encounter.

Deciding to engage them in a quick and ruthless attack that left no opening for recovery, Wraith took a breath and hoped his body was up for some lightning-fast moves. Setting his optics on thermal vision, he quickly outlined the Clones and calculated his angles of attack.

Should be no problem... as long as his body was up for the task.

Wraith leapt over the pile of debris, wrist blades extending from under his hands as the nearest Clone looked up in surprise. Wraith pounced upon him before he could react, blades piercing clean through his chest armor and sinking deep into his vital organs. The Clone died as Wraith rode his body to the ground, pulling his blades free and retracting them as he rolled forward. Another Clone cried out in surprise just as Wraith triggered his arm blades, spinning around and slicing through the trooper's leg. The severed joint fell away as the Clone dropped like a rock, only to find Wraith's other blade buried in his back seconds later. The final trooper managed to fire off a few shots from his blaster, only for his rounds to bounce off Wraith to his utter shock. The commando was on his feet in an instant, whipping around as he brought his blades to bear on his final opponent. The Clone stood no chance as one blade slit his throat before the other was buried deep in his torso. With blood staining his armor, the Clone dropped dead as Wraith wrenched his weapon free, watching the Clone die as his weapons disappeared back into his gauntlets. Wraith felt satisfied, his body had performed most admirably and three Clones were dead, all thanks to him. Looking around at the bloodstained bodies, Wraith was feeling quite good. Two weeks was simply too long to be away from this environment of death and destruction.

"Ahhh..." He sighed in satisfaction, breathing in the stench of gun smoke and fresh blood. "I missed this." He growled. "It's good to be back. This is what I need!" Feeling invigorated, Wraith charged forward into the city, feeling good and ready to hunt more Clones.


This city had definitely seen better days.

Wraith wasn't sure if this had all been part of the battle for control of the planet or if the Reepublic had purposefully destroyed this city during their invasion. Either way, it was a far cry from the battleground that was Crystal City on Christophsis. At least that place was mostly intact, his very first deployment had only shown him a good side of the now-infamous Clone Wars, how some cities and places actually managed to survive the war that came to them.

If that was the good side of things, Wraith was convinced he was the bad side... at least for the Republic.

His body appeared to be functioning just fine. He'd been moving on foot for the past while and he'd shown no sign of slowing down or pain. He believed his body was beginning to toughen up to it's original battle-hardened state. This was good. The more he kept at this, the healthier he would become.

It seemed he needed to fight, for the sake of his own health.

Bounding across piles of rubble and vaulting over the remains of walls, Wraith aimed to keep his body in maximum shape, hoping to prove once and for all he didn't need to be in top condition to be perfect. If Clones could fall while he was less than optimal, then there was no need to delay him any further from rejoining the war effort.

Sliding to a halt in the midst of a rubble-strewn courtyard, Wraith paused to quickly survey his surroundings. He was in the middle of the city now, and anyplace could be the home territory of the Republic. Not wanting to stumble across their base unprepared, Wraith deemed it prudent he figure things out before he got himself into a tight spot. Pinging his scanners, he appeared to be alone out here. But that didn't mean someone couldn't be spying on him from the remains of one of the many buildings surrounding him...

His scans suddenly picked up a plethora of heat signatures over in the next courtyard.

Were they all Clones? Had he found the bulk of the invading force? Not wasting another minute, the commando set off to investigate.

He had encountered very few troopers as he moved through the city, scattered about in small teams or pairs that were easily dispatched. Wraith had to wonder why the Republic was so sparse when it seemed a battle had been recently fought in this area. It was an odd phenomenon for sure.

Scaling a wall and peeking out over the edge of what was once a balcony, Wraith managed to lay eyes on what was the source of his readings. A company of Clone troopers was moving through the area, possibly trying to secure their position or quell any attempts at resistance. There were six, maybe seven of them. Definitely a larger squad. The other heat sigs belonged to a group of Aefans taking refuge inside a nearby building. At first glance, they appeared to be hiding from the Clones. But, as Wraith performed a scan of the building they were in, he discovered its integrity had been compromised and was threatening to collapse. Wraith had already encountered several members of the planet's native species as he moved through the city, but only in passing glances as he continued onward on his mission to destroy the Republic troops. This was the first time he'd seen such a large group. They must be survivors from this sector. Aefans were shorter than the average human, roughly about half the height of someone like Wraith or a Clone trooper. Their skin was orange, a common shade that every member of the species shared. It was enough to make Wraith think about a certain Togruta every time he passed one of them.

But they were Separatists aligned individuals. They deserved his help, they deserved to he saved by the alliance they had committed to. But he had to think about his own priorities, ones that came straight from Count Dooku.

His mission had to come first. The Aefans would have to wait.

Determining his course of action, Wraith waited until the Clones had their backs to him before he stood, drew his pistols and lined them up in his-

Save the civilians!

Wraith froze where he was as a voice, sounding plain as day, resonated through his mind. Coming seemingly from out of nowhere, Wraith looked around and checked his HUD scanners for anyone else in the area.

But they came back negative.

You need to save those civilians.

There it was again. Wraith shook his head, hoping he was just hearing some communication chatter from the Republic. Turning back to his would-be victims, he realized they were out of sight and probably long gone. Any movement now would only draw unnecessary attention as he could no longer get the drop on them.

He had lost his element of surprise.

Cursing under his breath, Wraith holstered his pistols and raced towards the crumbling structure. It was a simple building, possibly part of a bigger facility at one point, but was now being held together by what could only be sheer willpower. Large pieces of durasteel rebar had collapsed before the entrance, effectively trapping the Aefans inside. Quickly tearing through the debris and casting it aside, Wraith pushed his bulk frame through the small entrance. His presence surprised the trapped group, but they said nothing and simply backed further into the room.

Poor souls. They were terrified of anything that moved. They must've witnessed untold destruction, losing everything to the Republic assault.

Performing a quick scan, Wraith pinpointed the weakest portion of the roof. It was threatening to cave in, but appeared stable unless disturbed by some thunderous movement. Stepping into the center of the room, Wraith braced his shoulders against the partially collapsed roof and pushed up. Summoning whatever strength he could and pressing his hands upwards for additional support, Wraith moved the roof higher and higher until it was on an even angle. The Aefans were clearly astonished by his feat, but Wraith knew he could only do this for so long.

He did have a mission to get back to.

"Go! Now!" He ordered, ensuring the roof was secure against his back. The civilians were quick to move in single file past his body, swiftly making their way towards the exit. Wraith mentally ticked each one off as they left, counting twelve altogether. Once the last Aefan was out and none were left cowering in the corner, Wraith dropped to his knees and quickly crawled out of the building, returning back into the open. Standing up straight, Wraith heard several pieces of roof smash into the ground behind him. It appears his efforts to save the Aefans was the roof needed to lose its stability. He had acted just in time. Performing a quick headcount, Wraith positively confirmed that all the Aefans were safe. A job well done, if he did say so himself. One of the civilians, a man, rushed over and began pumping Wraith's hand.

"Thank you sir! A million times, thank you!" He said, thanking him profusely. His thanks were added to when the other Aefans started clapping, deeply grateful for the fast actions of their savior. Wraith had to admit, it felt good to do something nice for those he fought for. And additional thanks from random members of the populace was even sweeter than a congratulations from Count Dooku or Scipio.

"Head east towards Separatist lines, you'll be taken care of." He promptly instructed them. The man nodded and moved to lead the group, releasing the commando's hand. After ensuring they were on their way, Wraith moved on, determined to travel further into the destroyed city and hunt down more Republic affiliates. With luck, he'd be able to make up for not eliminating that squad he noticed earlier.

Which raised a more serious question: what was that voice?

Did it belong to someone? Was he hearing something through an unknown communications channel? Was it something derived from within his mind, the same source that brought on those recurring memories of the moment he was bombarded? He knew the blast had definitely knocked out Darth Sidious' attempted reprogramming, but had it knocked something else loose as well?

Wraith didn't know. He wasn't sure what was going on with him. But, given how he could hear nothing at the moment, maybe it was all over.

Believing that to be the case, Wraith set off to hunt down more invading Clones.


More Clones did he find... and more Clones did he kill.

They stood no chance as he struck from the shadows, lunging forward and moving with refined precision, cutting them all down with simple series of predetermined, choreographed moves. Every single action had been timed and plotted right down to the exact millisecond it was enacted, every move flowing together in a perfect demonstration of top-tier coordination.

The Wraith was no machine, but he certainly worked like a well-oiled one.

Two squads had already succumbed to his hit-and-run tactics, bodies torn and blasted as a mark of his handiwork. He was here to send a message, to let the Republic know they would not run so roughshod over his allies as long as he was around. Despite being assaulted with some of the hardest weaponry at their disposal, Wraith had persevered and only returned stronger and more determined than ever. His unquenchable bloodlust fueled his motions, his body back to optimum functionality as he forgot all about the mysterious voice in his head.

He forgot, that is, until he came across his next cluster of victims...

Another Clone squad was patrolling the edge of the city, working on securing their perimeter as the Republic sought to gain total control of their most recent conquest. But as the troopers milled about under the shadows of ruined buildings, they failed to notice the deep blue coattails and blazing red optics that watched their every move. Like some silent and hungry predator, Wraith patiently waited for the most opportune moment before he leapt down from his perch, drawing his knives and driving them into the back of the Clone he had pounced on. The deceased's fellow troopers barely had time to recognize the danger they were in before a pair of knives were impaled in their throats. Dashing past them, Wraith holstered his weaponry and drew a single blaster pistol as the final two Clones opened fire on him. Rounds pinged off his armor as Wraith grabbed the nearest Clone and emptied a cluster of rounds in to the trooper's abdomen, effectively killing him. The other Clone kept firing, hoping he might get lucky and scoring a downing hit.

He wouldn't be.

Shooting the blaster out of the Clone's grip, Wraith quickly struck with a hard left cross as he holstered his weapon. Striking with a quick right hook, Wraith followed up by kicking his opponent away and sent the Clone tumbling across the ground. But, to Wraith's mild surprise, the trooper managed to right himself. Lunging forward, Wraith downed the Clone with a quick punch to the gut. Rearing back his right arm, his blade shot forward over his hand as he-

No! Stop!

Wraith froze in place as the voice returned, stopping him before he could plunge his blade through the Clone's head.

"What?!" Wraith wondered aloud, annoyed by the return of this invisible distraction and that he had been interrupted.

Disable him, don't kill him. The voice instructed him.

What an absolutely absurd notion!

"Why? He's a Clone, he deserves to die!" Wraith retorted. Suddenly struck in the mid section, Wraith stumbled back as he realized his victim, although very confused, had recovered and had proceeded to attack him. The soldier responded by shoving his blade deep into the Clone's torso as soon as he drew near enough. He relished in the crimson rivers that stained his sword as blood freely flowed from the fatal wound, feeling completely justified in defying this voice. "There, over and done with." He mused, retracting his blade as the Clone fell over and died at his feet.

Why'd you have to do that? What'd he ever do to you? This voice was growing more and more irritating with each passing second.

"He was in my way." Wraith stated plainly.

That's not a good reason. The voice shot back. Wraith growled in frustration and shook his head, hoping to silence this irritating new development.

"Shut up and leave me alone," he demanded, breaking into a jog as he moved back into the city, "I've got work to do."

By work you mean murder. The voice retorted.

"Fine. Whatever you wanna call it." Wraith growled. "I can't believe I'm talking to myself."

I am not you. I am nowhere near the monster you are! The voice sharply told him. The commando sighed in annoyance and set about actually doing something to quell this irritation. Having finally had enough of the additional chatter, Wraith quickly powered up the music files in his helmet and promptly cranked the volume, hoping to drown out the voice with some harmonic beats that would also amp him up for battle.

I know what you're doing! You can't drown me out forever! He heard the voice cry before he managed to fully tune it out. Harmonic beats filled his head as his body began to tense up, feeling amped up as the synthesized tunes consumed his thoughts.

He often trained with this kind of music in his head, it helped him get his thoughts aligned. Sometimes he was even able to fight in-sync with the beat of the music. It was a rare but nice coincidence.

But right now, he just wanted this mix of tunes to help him overcome some level of insanity. To bring about a sense of normalcy. He was The Wraith, he couldn't perform under such problematic circumstances! He needed focus, he needed clarity!

Despite the circumstances, Wraith carried on, determined to fulfill his mission.

Bounding through the city at a fast clip, he vaulted a wall and landed right in the middle of another squad of Clones. With his music too loud to hear anything they were saying, Wraith simply drew his pistols and began emptying shots left, right and centre. Spinning around and around so no one could get the drop on him, Wraith blasted his foes with the quickest of reflexes and split-second timing. One by one, each Clone hit the ground dead, a smoking wound somewhere on their chest or head. After a few chaotic seconds of repetitive gunfire, Wraith halted in place. The Clones were all dead. Lowering his volume levels, Wraith believed he had sufficiently reduced the annoyance of this voice... at least for the time being. He took stock of his surroundings and his mental state as he holstered his weapons, breathing heavily as a sudden adrenaline rush died down. So far, all was quiet. The Clones had been dispatched and the voice appeared to have taken a hike.

But who know how long it would be before it returned?

A loud droning overhead forced him to disable his music entirely. Looking skyward, Wraith discovered a pair of LAAT gunships en route to the planet's surface.

They must be here to deliver reinforcements.

Breaking into a sprint, Wraith followed the descending ships as his body began pumping adrenaline once more in anticipation of a fight. The craft were moving faster than him, but Wraith had a feeling he may be able to ambush them from afar. After all, a single well-place shot could obliterate the whole craft, effectively killing everyone aboard.

It was time to see just how well his hand-eye coordination had become. Hopefully the bombardment hadn't set it back any. His mind may be slightly askew of its once perfect state, but as long as he could score a bullseye he was convinced he could tough it out.

Coming to stop on a hill, Wraith took in the sight of the gunships making landfall on an empty patch of ground, doors open and squads of Clone troopers being deployed. The ground had no doubt been razed by the recent battle, making for the perfect clearing to deploy any size of squad.

The one downside? They had no cover to hide behind.

Seeing the opportunity practically being handed to him, Wraith jumped down from his perch and landed crouched on the ground. "No more." He thought. "The Republic holds Aefao no longer!" Drawing his carbine, Wraith knelt down, took aim at the open gunships full of Clones and pulled the trigger.

His aim was perfect. With each shot a Clone fell dead. His opponents had no time to react, no time to return fire before they were gunned down. Wraith kept firing, round after round exploding from his weapon. Soon one gunship was full of the bodies of dead Clones, scorch marks riddling their armor.

But he wasn't finished.

Turning his sights on the next gunship and quickly re-calibrating his weapon, Wraith squeezed the trigger and unleashed more hell upon the invaders. Clones fell from the gunship, dying in droves as his rifle ripped them apart. Another ship emptied of the living, he returned his sights to the one full of the dead and fired a burst of rounds that pierced the cockpit, killing the pilot.

None would leave here alive. And any who arrived would soon find themselves as dead as their comrades.

Convinced they had all been killed, Wraith ceased firing and stood up, eyeing the carnage he had created.

So much death... why? A quiet voice wondered from the recesses of his mind.

"Not. Now." Wraith growled, convinced he could dominate this voice through a powerful mental presence. Sheathing his carbine behind him, Wraith walked over to the downed gunships and whipped out a pair of explosive disks. Sticking them both to the roof with well-aimed throws, Wraith took a few steps back and patiently waited as the timers counted down.

The ensuing explosion rocked him, but the commando relished in the glowing flames before him as the gunship and the dead Clones were consumed by the blaze. "Nothing like a warm fire fueled by my enemies." He absentmindedly mused. Taking a moment to reflect on the voice in his head, Wraith began to wonder many questions as to what it was he was hearing. "Maybe it was a Jedi." He muttered, looking for a logical explanation for. But he suddenly realized that would be impossible, Scipio had rendered him immune to all Force mind tricks. No one should be in his head.

So who, or what, was this voice?

Could it be some kind of apparition? A figment of his imagination? Had that bombardment knocked loose something other than Sidious' reprogramming? Maybe it was a momentary hallucination, a one-time occurrence that would soon be forgotten.

Hopefully, that was the case.

Deciding he'd had enough standing around, Wraith turned to leave and began to make his way to... well, he wasn't quite sure where. Clones were everywhere, the Republic was everywhere. What more could he do apart from doing what he'd already been doing?

Fortunately, an incoming communication interrupted his thoughts.

"Good work Wraith." Count Dooku praised him. "From what I've heard, the Republic is undermanned and will require reinforcements. Reports are coming in that they are losing men quite rapidly and lack the forces necessary to keep Aefao under their control." He added, making Wraith feel a little prouder of his efforts. "Separatist reinforcements are on their way to reinforce our position on Aefao. You've bought us a fighting chance here, for that I say well done."

"Thank you sir. I live to serve." The commando promptly replied.

"It appears the Republic decided to try and make some gains in your absence." Dooku added. "Aefao is not the only world under siege right now. I'm sending you to Saleucami to alleviate our overwhelmed forces there. Push back the Republic and lead our forces to victory."

"It shall be done." Wraith accepted his new assignment as Dooku closed the communication. Back to back missions. This was perfect. Nothing like a nice hard run-of-the-mill strike mission to get the blood pumping.

But what of this voice? Should he speak to Scipio about it? Should he call things off and get his head back in shape?

No. There was no time. He had work to do.

Deciding his interests were inferior to those of the Separatist cause, Wraith turned on heel and proceeded to jog back towards the eastern base he arrived at. He could live with a simple voice for just a few days. It shouldn't be that big of a problem...


Elsewhere, aboard the Resolute...

Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi had been instructed to lead their forces into battle as the Republic pushed deep into the Outer Rim territories, hoping to remove the Separatists from long-held positions on a variety of worlds. Since the demise of The Wraith, Palpatine deemed it wise for the Republic to attack in full force as their enemies were now missing a valuable member. Having successfully completed removing a deeply-entrenched force from Mygeeto, the Generals had returned to Anakin's cruiser feeling a little light-hearted with their victory.

"I still say that tank only counts as one." Obi-Wan was saying.

"Look, I took out the pilot, the gunner and the navigator. That makes three!" Anakin countered.

"Yes, you took them out... by blowing up the whole tank." Obi-Wan replied with an eye roll. "I swear, I can never win one of these games with you."

"Better try harder next time, Master." Anakin shot back with a smirk. The two of them were interrupted when a serious-faced Admiral Yularen stepped before them.

"Generals, pleased to see you both back safe." He greeted them.

"It is good to be back." Obi-Wan mused, glancing around the bridge of the cruiser.

"What have you, Admiral?" Anakin asked, spying a datapad in Yularen's grip.

"We've received a report from Aefao." Yularen informed them. There was something negative in the tone of his voice that made Anakin a little worried about what his admiral had to say.

"Something tells me I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear." He mused. Yularen nodded slowly as he handed over the datapad.

"It appears The Wraith has returned." He simply told them. "Two whole regiments have been slaughtered, along with a pair of new supply depots destroyed." Anakin and Obi-Wan looked up in shock.

"Impossible!" Anakin exclaimed. "That orbital bombardment... i-it should've killed him! No one can survive that!"

"Bodies don't lie sir." Yularen grimly replied. "It's him alright." Anakin quickly flipped through the images of dead Clones with blood-stained armor and tell-tale blade wounds he'd seen too many times before. Suddenly, he switched images and came face to face with a grainy image of Wraith, stalking around the ruins of buildings. The image was undoubtedly taken from a trooper's helmet recording.

"Yes, that's him." Obi-Wan sighed, looking over Anakin's shoulder.

"But how...?" The Jedi Knight wondered, still astonished by the fact Wraith had survived an orbital bombardment!

"I don't know sir. All I know is that he's back and he's made life miserable for our forces on Aefao. Separatists reinforcements have been spotted and it looks like we may lose the planet once more." Yularen reported.

"He's undoing what we've done." Obi-Wan noted. "That means he may hit Mygeeto and other worlds pretty soon after this."

"Why do I get the feeling we'll be making a U-turn some time soon?" Anakin grumbled. They had just come from Aefao and had believed themselves to be completely victorious.

Leave it to a not-so-dead Wraith to change their fortunes.

"We have to inform the Chancellor, tell him The Wraith is back." Obi-Wan surmised, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news.

"Better let Master Windu and Master Plo know as well." Anakin added, thinking about the other Jedi with them here in the Outer Rim. "How are we supposed to kill the unkillable?" He wondered, at a complete loss for how to proceed and still in shock by the fact their enemy was alive and well. Obi-Wan silently shook his head, not knowing what to do either.

But at that moment, Yularen had something to say.

"Sir, if I may, I believe I have something for you in that regard." Hope sprung anew in Anakin as he heard Yularen's words.

"Go ahead Admiral, we're all ears." Obi-Wan quickly urged him to continue.

"As you may know, there are many exchange officers from outside the Republic who are here to observe our war with the Separatists. One of them has been particularly intrigued by The Wraith and has put together a briefing I think you'll be interested in. Given how Wraith still lives, it may be prudent that you listen to what he has to say." Yularen told them.

"Any idea what's in this briefing?" Anakin asked, both curious about what this officer had to say and annoyed by the fact he'd have to sit through a briefing. From his past experiences, they tended to be quite boring.

"It is a way to combat this most persistent foe of yours." A voice stated from behind them. Anakin and Obi-Wan turned around to see a figure standing near the bridge viewport with his back to them, someone they had not noticed before but was now turning and approaching them.

"Generals, this is the officer I was talking about." Yularen informed them. "I offered him a position with the command staff of the Resolute, given his particular insights into The Wraith." The man regarded Yularen with a simple nod. Neither of the Jedi recognized him.

"And who might you be?" Obi-Wan wondered, curious as to the identity of this newcomer. Anakin doubly so. There was a stranger on his ship he did not know about! The man quickly replied,

"Forgive me for not introducing myself properly, General. I am Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo of the Chiss Ascendancy. But you may simply call me 'Thrawn'."


Author's Note:... skip the next chapter at your own risk...