Welcome to the Fire

Sergeant Fox removed his bucket and placed it under his seat. He stayed bent over his knees a moment and breathed as the world tilted around him. Chips in their heads? Kriff! He felt ill.

"You okay there, verd?" the Nautolan asked.

"I . . ."

"Don't think about it too hard," the hulking Mandalorian in blue armor said.

"How's the general?" Fox asked sitting up. Better to focus on anything other than a chip in his head.

The big guy and the Nautolan cast a look at where General Skywalker lay sprawled at the mand'alor's feet.

"His face is turning purple," the big Mando said. He sounded smug.

Fox bit back a grimace. He had great respect for General Skywalker and was irritated that this besom was treating the general like some karking misbehaving kid.

The mand'alor sighed and removed his helmet revealing dark, curling hair and brown eyes. "Paz, you're as subtle as a nexu in a porg nest."

"Always, 'alor," the big Mando, Paz, said.

General Skywalker chose that moment to wake up.

"Padmé!" the general cried, flailing.

"Gar morut'yc, general," Fox said. He looked at the Mandalorians, hoping he wasn't lying.

The Nautolan and Paz had their blasters trained on the general.

General Skywalker groaned. "Rex?"

"No, sir. It's Fox."

"Who's Padmé," Paz asked.

"His riduur, I expect," the mand'alor said.

General Skywalker shot a horrified look at the silver-armored man.

"Udesiir, verd," the mand'alor said. "Take it easy. We mean her no harm."

"No, you don't understand," General Skywalker said. "She'd pregnant. I can't leave her. She's in danger."

"Osik," the Mandos all muttered.

Fox agreed with the sentiment. He hadn't known the general was married, much less expecting an ad. If she were in danger . . .

The little green being slid off the mand'alor's lap and went to General Skywalker's side, patting his arm and cooing.

"What's her location?" the mand'alor asked.

The general was staring at the little green being.

The mand'alor reached down the grabbed the general by his tunics, and lifted him half off the floor, gaining his full attention. "Where is your wife, Skywalker?"

"The Senate Apartment Complex. The veranda's got a landing platform."

"Silk, change of plans," the mand'alor called to his pilot. He helped the general to his feet, scooping up the little green being as he did so, and sat Skywalker down in the co-pilot's chair. "Give Silk directions."

"Is this wise, sir?" the Nautolan asked.

"I don't know, Aedo. I'm just trying to keep everyone alive right now. If Skywalker's riduur helps keep him calm, all to the better."

"And if he tries to kill her?" Paz asked.

"The general would never harm his wife," Fox spoke up. "He has a temper, sure, but he'd never take it out on those close to him. He saves it for the Seppies."

The mand'alor met Fox's eyes, held his gaze as if searching for something, then nodded.

Could the mand'alor be a Jedi? Fox wondered.

A few minutes later, Silk pulled the shuttle into the landing platform at the apartment complex where the general's wife lived.

"Ruus'alor," the mand'alor said, standing.

Fox came to his feet. "Sir?"

"Go get Skywalker's wife. Tell her that her husband needs to talk to her before he leaves on a mission. Get her to come out here to the shuttle. Don't alarm her, and don't let her contact anyone."

Fox nodded and retrieved his helmet. As he tried to walk past Paz, the large Mandalorian grabbed his cuirass.

"If you try anything funny—"

"Paz, not helping," the mand'alor murmured.

The big Mandalorian let Fox go with a little shove toward the landing platform. Fox stumbled, caught himself, and hurried toward the veranda. He pulled on his bucket and straightened his armor as he went. It was late. The likelihood that the general's wife was in bed was high. Kark it all, he didn't want to wake her.

A golden protocol droid met him a few steps from the apartment.

"Good evening, sir. I am C-3PO. May I inquire why you're approaching Senator Amidala's apartment so late?"

"Is your mistress awake?" Fox asked.

"She is, but I hardly see—"

"Please go tell her that her husband is here to see her. The 501st is shipping out to another assignment, and General Skywalker wanted to see her before we left."

"I'm here," a woman's voice called from behind the droid. "Where's Anakin?"

Fox stared for a moment, entranced. Her dark hair was a mass of lose curls cascading around her bare shoulders, and the pale blue nightgown did nothing to hide the large bulge of her stomach.

"I-in the shuttle, ma'am," Fox stuttered. "He received a comm from HQ right before we landed."

She hurried past him without another word.

Fox turned to the protocol droid. "Go get your mistress a shawl. It's cool out here."

He didn't wait to see if the droid obeyed, but turned and rushed after the general's wife.

"Anakin!" the senator called as she approached the shuttle.

The general appeared in the doorway, his arms behind his back as if he stood at parade rest. He smiled. "Padmé."

For a moment, Fox didn't know what was going on. Had the general broken free? Surely the Mandalorians would be making a fuss if that were true. Then Fox spotted the large hand that could only belong to Paz encircling the general's upper arm. When they were a few steps away from the shuttle, General Skywalker was jerked back into the shuttle.

"Anakin!" the senator cried, rushing forward.

Fox had his hands out, ready to catch her if she should stumble, but she made the slight leap from platform to shuttle without incident. Once Fox was in the shuttle, the door closed, and they were moving. Fox steadied the general's wife against the sudden jolt and guided her to a seat. The shuttle was getting crowded.

"Anakin? What's going on?" Senator Amidala called.

"It'll be alright, Padmé," the general's voice called from the front of the shuttle.

She looked up at Fox. "What's going on trooper?" There was steel in her voice.

"Forgive us, senator," the mand'alor said. "There's a lot to explain, and I don't think you'll believe most of it."

She stared at the little green being in the mand'alor's arms. "Is that . . . Master Yoda?"

Appo woke to the biggest headache he'd ever had in his life. And only part of it was from the surgery he'd just undergone.

After the Mandalorians had left with the general, Appo had had to stun several of his men; mostly shinies. They seemed unable to get past the order the chip was trying to make them obey, and had started firing at the Jedi. That had nearly been a clusterkriff of epic proportions. Luckily, the 501st veterans had been able to corral the troopers trying to shoot the Jedi, and the Jedi—led by Battlemaster Cin Drallig—had graciously listened as Appo had explained what he knew of the situation.

The stunned troopers, and anyone who looked like they were struggling with disobeying the extermination order, had been stripped of armor and weapons and rushed to holding cells within the Temple. Appo hadn't even known the Jedi had holding cells in the Temple.

Appo had been escorted to the High Council chamber and asked to explain the actions of the 501st. Appo had told the Masters what he knew, and after a little digging, they had been able to pull up the report on the chips and Captain Rex's compliant. Watching it had made Appo's stomach hurt. He'd known Fives and served with him through countless battles. Had liked the hot-headed ARC trooper. News of his death had hit the 501st hard.

Appo had immediately volunteered to have his inhibitor chip removed. The Council had agreed. He'd made some plans with his command staff and General Drallig, then allowed himself to be led to the Halls of Healing in the Temple, where the Jedi had prepped him for surgery to remove his biochip.

There was a shuffle of feet, and a discrete cough. Lieutenant Wade stood at his bedside.

"How are you feeling, commander?" Wade asked.

"Like a kriffing Venator just crashed into my skull." Appo belatedly saw the Jedi healer standing behind Wade. "'Scuse the language, ma'am."

The Zabrak female smiled. "I'll get you something for the pain."

Appo returned his attention to Wade as he sat up and made himself comfortable. "Me'vaar ti gar?"

"I'm assuming you want a sitrep, and not to know how I'm doing," Wade said with a grin.

Appo rolled his eyes. "Where's Jesse when I need him?"

Wade just grinned wider. "Coruscant Guard command has been sending companies of men over to help us 'put down the Jedi insurrection', just like you and General Drallig planned. They're being detained and will be dechipped as soon as the Jedi finish with the 501st."

"Any luck contacting the commanders of other battle groups?" Appo asked.

Wade's smile disappeared. "It's not good, commander. Captain Deviss answered Commander Bly's comm. General Secura is dead. Commander Bly seems to have gone into shock. He won't talk to anyone. Deviss didn't look good either, sir. I told them about the chips, but . . ." He shrugged.

Too little, way too late, Appo thought.

"We've had reports that Generals Mundi, Allie, Koon, and Kenobi are dead as well," Wade continued.

"Little Force gods," Appo swore. "Not Kenobi too."

"No word on Generals Luminara or Yoda yet. We had brief contact with General Billaba but lost the signal. Reports are still coming in. The Jedi here in the Temple have given our comm specialists a communications room and they're trying to contact our vode, as well as fielding incoming calls as best they can."

Appo ran a hand over his face. He felt old. And so tired. "Have you been able to raise Captain, er, Commander Rex or Lieutenant Jesse?"

Wade shook his head. "I can't get Captain Vaughn either. We haven't been able to raise anyone from the 332nd on Mandalore."

"Osik."

The Zabrak healer came back into the room and gave Appo a shot with a hypospray. The pain in his head faded to a bearable level. Appo threw back the sheet and slid off the bed.

"Commander," Wade and the Jedi said at the same time.

"Get me some blacks, Wade," Appo said, picking at the hospital gown he wore. "I need to be in the communications room to help our boys field calls and keep an eye on the situation."

"Sir!" Wade saluted then darted out of the room.

"You really should rest," the Jedi healer said.

"No time. If the whole GAR has these chips, we've gotta move fast. We're going to need people with authority—non-Jedi people for the time being—who can give orders. Have the Guard commanders arrived yet?"

"Commander Stone has. He's in surgery now. Commanders Fox and Thire are unreachable, apparently."

"Kark," Appo muttered. The entire Guard basically answered to Fox, even though Stone and Thire held the same rank as him.

"Everybeing move!" a booming voice hollered from the hallway.

Appo and the Zabrak Jedi moved to the doorway and looked out. Three clones, minus upper armor, and a Besalisk Jedi in healers' robes were running a hover gurney down the hallway.

"Get an operating theater ready now!" the Besalisk healer bellowed.

Healers jumped into action and the three clones fell back from the gurney as the healers took over.

"Verde!" Appo called and motioned the three clones over. Their lower armor was painted Guard red. "What was that?"

"Sergeant Rys, sir," one of the men said, snapping to attention and saluting. "That was General Fisto, sir. We were called to the Chancellor's office to 'clean up a mess'." Rys grimaced. "We found Generals Tiin and Kolar dead. The other members of our squad took their bodies."

"By the Force," the Zabrak Jedi whispered. She looked pale, and Appo guided her to the bed so she could sit.

The three Guard troopers followed them into the room. Wade walked in behind them, a bundle of tan cloth under his arm.

"When we tried to move General Fisto, he attacked us," Rys said.

"Jek, sir," the second clone said, sketching a salute. "General Fisto'd been slashed across the abdomen by a lightsaber, but he was still alive. I . . . I tried to . . . I didn't want to, but . . ."

"We tried to kill him," Rys said, putting a hand on Jek's shoulder. "We'd received an order that the Jedi were traitors and had to be put down before they could take over the Republic. But then Commander Thire appeared. Made us strip off our armor and leave our blasters. We carried the general to the commander's speeder and brought him here."

"It was easier not to obey the kill order with the commander there," Jek said. He looked ashamed.

They all did.

"It's not your fault, vode," Appo said. "We're going to get you all fixed up. You good with the Jedi now, or do we need to put you in a cell for a bit?"

"I'm good, sir," Rys said. "I can control it."

Jek nodded. The third trooped looked like he might cry.

"I'm barely hanging on, sir," he admitted. At his sides, his hands twitched, then clenched. His eyes went to the Jedi healer and he leaned toward her. "I want to—"

"Stow that talk, Conn," Rys interrupted, clapping a hand on the back of his squadmate's neck. He looked at Appo. "Which way to the brig, sir?"

"Wade, take them," Appo said.

The lieutenant tossed Appo the bundle and said, "It was all I could find on short notice, sir," then led the others from the room. Conn was quietly weeping as they led him away.

"This is so horrific," the Zabark healer said.

After a second of hesitation, Appo put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "We'll get through it, ma'am. We just have to help each other."

She looked up at him and two tears slid down her cheeks. Appo helped her to her feet.

"Why don't you go see if there's someone else you can check in on. I'm fine. If anyone asks, I'll be in the communication center."

She nodded and walked from the room in a daze. Appo unfolded the cloth to reveal a set of Jedi trousers and tunics. With a sigh, he shucked the gown and pulled on the clothes. He'd have to find his armor later, though he desperately wanted the comforting weight surrounding him. Right now, there were vode and Jedi to try and save.

Wolffe couldn't believe it. He wouldn't. Not until he saw a body with his own eyes.

General Koon couldn't be dead.

As soon as Jag and the other aerial scouts had returned to base and reported that the general was dead, Wolffe had grabbed a medipac and left without telling anyone.

He can't be dead, Wolffe thought to himself as he rode through the streets of the city on his stolen speeder. He can't be.

His general was too smart, too strong. He couldn't be shot down by just karking anyone . . .

Wolffe stopped the speeder and ripped off his bucket seconds before he threw up.

"Kark," he growled, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

He rinsed his mouth out with a sip from his canteen, spat, and jammed his bucket back on. He checked his HUD. He was getting close to where Jag report the crash had taken place.

Wolffe had received the order, just like every other vod.

Execute Order 66.

Ha. Like hell.

Genreal Koon had saved his life far too many times. Wolffe would happily throw himself on a thermal detonator if it would save the general. No way could he ever kill his Jedi. No chip in his brain was going to control him.

His HUD blinked, indicating he'd reached his target. Wolffe leapt from the speeder, grabbing the medipac.

"Where are you, you tough old Kel Dor?" he muttered, scanning the area for life signs.

Nothing.

Fek and all.

Wolffe started moving through the rubble.

"General!" he called. "General Koon!"

It didn't take him long to find the wreckage of the general's Aethersprite. Bits of debris was still on fire from the crash.

"General Koon!" Wolffe yelled.

There was no answer.

He began grid search. It would probably take him days to complete by himself, but he hadn't known if he could trust any of his vode with the general's life. And didn't that sting?

Comet, Sinker, Boost; they'd been with Wolffe and the general since before Abregado and the Malevolence. And with those Force-damned chips in their heads, he couldn't trust them not to shoot Koon on sight.

"Osik!" Wolffe howled, kicking a piece of broken wall. "Plo, you bastard, if you're really dead I'm going to kill you! Where are you?!"

A low sound made Wolffe snap his head to the left.

"Plo? General?"

". . . 'ffe . . . "

The voice was soft, but it was a voice. He was sure of it. Wolffe ran.

"General! General, where are you?"

"Wolffe."

There!

Wolffe pulled off his bucket and tossed it aside. In the shadow of a bombed-out building sat General Koon. His robes were in tatters. One of his protective eye filters was gone. Much of the left side of his body looked burned. But his antitox mask was in place, if slightly dented. Wolffe pulled out a bacta sprayer and went to work on the worst of the burns.

"General," Wolffe sobbed.

Koon lifted a hand and placed it on Wolffe's arm.

"Commander, did I just . . . hear you threaten to . . . to kill me?"

Wolffe nodded and wiped at his tears. "Only if you were already dead, sir. There must be some karking Force osik that could bring you back long enough for me to give you a piece of my mind at least."

The general huffed a laugh and relaxed. Wolffe belatedly saw the lightsaber hilt pointed at his abdomen.

"Wolffe—"

Wolffe slid a hand around the back of Koon's neck and gently brought their foreheads together.

"Just rest, buir. I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you. Ori'haat."

Mando'a:

Verd - soldier/warrior; plural - verde

Mand'alor - sole ruler of Mandalore

Besom - ill-mannered lout

'Alor - leader, chief, boss; can also be used to mean 'General'

Gar morut'yc - you're safe

Riduur - husband/wife/spouse/partner

Udesiir - relax, take it easy, calm down

Osik - shit

Ad - child

Ruus'alor - sergeant

Me'vaar ti gar - How are you? (Lit: what's new with you?) Can also be used to ask a soldier for a sitrep.

Vod - brother; plural - vode

Buir - father/parent

Ori'haat - It's the truth, I swear.