Maneuverings

Stone was the last Coruscant Guard commander to enter the little back room of Dex's diner. They'd all left HQ at different times, for different reasons. Routine reasons. They'd each made their way, over the course of the last hour, to Dex's. The Besalisk had always welcomed clones to his establishment and over the years, the CG commanders had learned that Dex heard things and knew people that most diner owners didn't.

He'd also proved to be a good friend to the Jedi.

So, when Fox had approached Dex about using his diner as a clandestine meeting place, the Besalisk had agreed.

It was dangerous. The clones were supposed to be under Order Sixty-six. The Guard had gotten a very limited look at the behavioral changes in a few of their brethren before their chips were removed, and they tried to emulate those changes when in public. Especially in the Senate.

At Fox's direction Thire had recruited volunteers from the Guard to hang out at the GAR headquarters and barracks to observe other clones who still had their chips.

No one went to 79s anymore. No one really left the designated GAR areas. No one used their names, only designations.

Anyone who didn't conform was locked up.

Riyo had wanted to help them gather information. She'd been a friend to the Guard for years, always showing them kindness where other senators where harsh and cruel. Fox had fallen for her earl on—her sweet nature and beskar backbone when it came to standing up to senators who were older and had more experience when she believed her cause was just were both extremely attractive—but he'd maintained a professional relationship out of deference to her position, and his lack thereof.

Fox couldn't bear to put her in harm's way anymore than she already was. With her vocal stance on the war and her public friendship with Senators Amidala and Organa, she was already a target of so much hate and distrust. That was the reason Fox had run to her side when Order Sixty-six was given. The order focused on the Jedi, but also stated that traitors to the Republic should be executed. While no one had called Riyo, and other senators with opinions like hers outright traitors, Fox hadn't been willing to take any chances.

After his chip had been removed at the Jedi Temple, Fox had detailed four of his dechipped Guards to see that she made it to her apartment to pack, and then two men were to escort her to Pantora on the pretext of visiting family. Riyo'd protested and cried, but finally agreed.

Once the door to Dex's back room was closed and locked, Fox pulled out a signal jammer and set it on the little table in the center of the room, turning it on.

"Right," Fox said. "First thing's first. Has anyone heard from our missing boys?"

"Riot and Raze finally reported in," Ricochet, the newest commander said.

He'd been promoted after Scipio. After they'd lost Thorn. Ricochet was a very serious vod. He'd just started to loosen up around Fox and the other commanders when this osik with the Jedi and the new Empire had hit the fan.

"Where did those di'kute end up?" Thire asked.

That was another thing. None of the chipped clones used Mando'a anymore. Fox ground his teeth. They were being stripped of the identities they'd worked so hard to cultivate.

"They found General Windu," Ricochet said.

Fox felt like he'd just been punched in the solar plexus. He couldn't breathe for a moment, and his body felt numb. Another Jedi had been saved.

"They didn't realize it was him at first, and they took him to Coruscant Med," Ricochet continued. "It seems that the general laid a Force compulsion on Riot. He and Raze went back to the hospital and helped the general escape. They're all at the Temple now."

"Is that safe?" Stone asked.

"How did they get in?" Thire said at the same time. "I thought the Emperor had the Temple locked down tight."

"Riot didn't go into the details," Ricochet said. "He wasn't sure how secure the line was, and he didn't want to compromise the Jedi in the Temple."

"There's more than just General Windu?" Fox asked.

"He implied there were more, yes."

"Di'kutla jetii," Fox growled. "They were all supposed to leave."

"Technically, the Guard was supposed to leave too," Thire pointed out. "We disobeyed a direct order when we stayed behind."

"Someone had to guard the generals' shebse," Ricochet said.

Fox, Thire, and Stone all shot him a look.

"What? Just because I don't let it all hang out like you three do, doesn't mean I'm not on board with the plan."

Stone grinned and Thire clapped Ricochet on the shoulder.

"That's the spirit, vod!" Thire said.

"Thire, have you heard back from your boys in the main GAR barracks?" Fox asked, bringing them back on topic.

Thire's amusement faded. "Not yet. I'm worried they got caught."

"They knew the risks going in," Fox said, hating himself.

They couldn't risk exposing the Guards who'd been dechipped or the Jedi wouldn't have any backup on Coruscant. They needed to give the Jedi—and their vode—as much time to get set up somewhere safe as they could.

Fox turned to Stone. "How's Operation Shroud going?"

"Good. I've been in touch with several of our contractors. We've had good results. Not quite the numbers I was hoping for, but better than nothing."

"Alright." Fox nodded. "Let's get Operation Trash Removal underway. We need to hit hard and fast before we're discovered."

Because Fox didn't have any illusions that the dechipped Guards would remain undiscovered. There were too many unknowns about the chips and the Orders that were programed into them. Someone would eventually make a mistake that brought them under Palaptine's scrutiny, and then the deception would be over.

Echo returned to a very different Kamino than the one he and the Bad Batch had left a couple of weeks ago. They'd been on a comms blackout during the op and the Havoc Marauder had taken fire upon their exit, frying their long-range comms. So, it was a surprise, upon hitting Tipoca City airspace, that they'd been subjected to a security check. No one had ever questioned them like that before. Everyone on Kamino knew the Marauder and her passengers.

Echo paused at the bottom of the Maruader's ramp, taking in the bustle of the hanger bay. Even that seemed wrong somehow. Vode were usually talking and joking with each other while they carried out their duties. The brothers in the hanger now were oddly silent and focused on their tasks.

"Something's off," Hunter said from the stair behind Echo.

"Looks normal to me," Wrecker said. "Let's head to the mess. I'm starving for some real food!"

Tech adjusted his goggles. "I don't think what the mess serves qualifies as 'real food', for all it meets our daily nutrient requirements."

"It's better than the field rations we've been surviving off for the last two weeks," Crosshair said shouldering past Hunter and Echo.

As they started out of the hanger bay, Echo saw a group of brothers washing a gunship. No, not washing the ship; removing the nose art. Walking through the halls toward their barracks, Echo noticed that there seemed to be fewer vode with paint on their armor too. Not that the brothers on Kamino had ever used much paint, not like the other battalions. But either the number of Kamino Security guards had been reduced, or they had scrubbed their armor of paint.

As the Batch entered their barracks, Wrecker stopped by the door to add more tally marks to the successful mission board they'd created there. Echo went to his hammock, hung between the huge transparisteel window that made up the back wall of the room and Tech's bunk. He removed his helmet, grimacing at the smell that seemed to be a permanent part of the barracks, and stowed his weapons and backpack in the containers beneath his hammock. The little corner of the room wasn't much, but it was his, and he had his adopted squad around him. He couldn't really ask for more.

Echo turned to observe his new squad. Tech had dropped his gear on his bunk and moved to the table in the center of the room to tinker with his latest project. He'd explained it to Echo a couple of times, and Echo still wasn't sure what it did. Hunter was stretched out on his bunk, one arm thrown over his eyes. The lighting in their room was dimmer than everywhere else on Kamino, courtesy of Tech's tinkering, to help keep Hunter's enhances senses from being overstimulated. Having just come off an extended mission, Echo knew his vod would want to stay in their room for a while to decompress from any overload.

Wrecker was clambering around his bunk, stacking used meal trays with bits of desiccated or rotting food on them. Echo wrinkled his nose. Well, that accounted for part of the smell in the barracks. Crosshair was dismantling and cleaning his Firepuncher before stowing it in its padded case. A little smile lifted the corner of Echo's mouth, the feeling of unease from the hanger bay momentarily forgotten.

Hunter's comm chirped. The sergeant sat up and swung his legs off the side of his bunk.

"Hunter here."

"Sergeant, this is Commander Blitz. You and your squad are to report to briefing room Jenth-19 in ten minutes. There have been some changes you need to be brought up to speed on."

"Yes, commander," Hunter replied. "We'll be there."

"Looks like Wrecker's stomach will have to wait," Crosshair teased.

"Aww," Wrecker groaned loudly.

"Hop to," Hunter said. "We don't want to be late."

"What do you think this is about?" Echo asked.

"Probably something to do with the new security protocols they seem to have put in place," Tech said.

Echo and the others left their helmets in their room and Hunter led them at a jog down the hallway. Briefing room Jenth-19 was a good distance from their quarters, and they'd need the whole ten minutes to get there. As they passed by a series of training rooms, Echo's attention was caught by a figure leaping impossibly high and fast around the interior amidst bolts from training blasters. He slowed and walked to the window that looked down on the room.

The darting figure came to rest on the top of one of the training gun towers, and Echo got his first good look. The being was a Kel Dor, and for a moment, Echo thought it was General Plo Koon. Then he realized the breathing mask was wrong, and the figure was female.

"Is that a Jedi?" Hunter asked from Echo's side.

He hadn't realized the others had stopped too.

The Kel Dor batted away several blaster bolts with her lightsaber and launched herself at a group of clones in white armor. Several of the clones went sprawling, probably victims of the Jedi's Force-push, and several more clones launched restraining cables, which the Jedi managed to avoid through a series of acrobatic maneuvers.

"What the kriff," Echo said.

"Must be a new form of training," Tech said. "The Separatists have their equivalent of Jedi, so perhaps we're going to be trained better in how to deal with them."

Hunter placed an ungloved hand on the window and shook his head after a minute. "No. This isn't just training. There's something—"

"Sergeant," came a clipped voice from behind them.

Echo and the others turned to see Commander Havoc.

"You and your squad are going to be late for your briefing," the commander said. "Get moving."

"Yes, sir," Hunter said, saluting.

The rest of them saluted as well and took off at a jog again.

Commanders Colt and Blitz were waiting in the briefing room when Echo and his squadmates finally arrived. Both commanders wore their buckets. Colt stepped forward and removed his bucket, placing it on the holotable in front of him. The Batchers lined up around the holotable and saluted.

"At ease," Colt said. "You may have noticed some changes since you were last here."

Echo and his brothers nodded. Colt touched the controls of the holotable a projection of Chancellor Palpatine appeared.

"We received this transmission from Coruscant a couple of days ago," Colt said, and hit play.

Echo watched with growing horror as the Chancellor spoke of an attempt on his life by Jedi traitors and the reorganization of the Republic into the Galactic Empire. Echo barely heard Senator Bail Organa speak up about the Jedi younglings, or Emperor Palpatine's plans for all Force-sensitive younglings going forward, though some part of his brain stored the information away for later review.

"Galactic Empire," Echo muttered when the recording finished. "We're soldiers of the Republic."

"Not anymore," Colt said. "We serve the Empire now. And on that note, we have some Imperial guests arriving later today. You are to stay out of their way and be on your best behavior if you do cross paths with them."

"We're always on our best behavior," Wrecker said, nudging Tech.

"Do you want to be confined to quarters, trooper?" Blitz barked.

"Uh, no," Wrecker said, tacking on a bleated 'sir'.

"One more thing," Colt said, meeting each of their eyes. "We have Jedi prisoners in the brig. They're wearing Force-suppression collars and are not to be treated as a threat while the collars are active. We've received new orders from the Emperor that supersede Order Sixty-six."

"Jedi prisoners?" Hunter said, sounding as stunned as Echo felt.

"Order Sixty-six?" Crosshair queried.

"When the Jedi rebelled the Emperor gave Order Sixty-six," Blitz said, stepping up next to Colt. He still hadn't removed his bucket. "The order states that all Jedi Generals and Commanders are to be removed by lethal force and command of the GAR is to revert to the Supreme Commander, in this case, the Emperor. Any clones who do not comply with the order will also be terminated as traitors."

Echo felt a bolt of panic shoot down his spine for General Skywalker, followed quickly by a wash of gratitude that Commander Tano had left the Order. Little gods, why would his vode follow such an order? The 501st had served under General Skywalker since the beginning of the war. They knew their Jedi was no traitor. Same thing went for the 212th, 104th, and several other battalions Echo could think of.

Something tickled at the back of Echo's mind. Something Rex had said when he and Echo had taken time to talk after his rescue from Skako Minor. Echo had asked Rex about Fives.

"I know he's dead," Echo had said, his voice thick with emotion. "There's no way Fives wouldn't be here by now if he were still alive. But what . . . how did it happen?"

Rex had hesitated, clearly torn.

"Please, Rex," Echo had insisted. "I need to know."

Rex sighed and ran a hand over his face. "The official story is Fives and Tup contracted a virus on Ringo Vinda and died from it."

"But you don't believe that's what happened."

"No." Rex had shaken his head. "I registered a complaint about the whole mess, but I'm sure it was buried and forgotten quickly." Rex took a breath. "Fives was a little . . . unstable toward the end. He tried to tell General Skywalker and myself about a conspiracy. Something about biochips in our heads. We never got the whole story from him. He died before he could tell it."

Echo needed to do some digging into the chips. Needed to get his hands on the report regarding Fives' and Tup's deaths, and the captain's complaint. Mind control could be the only explanation for the vode to turn on their Jedi.

"Is there anything else, sirs?"

Hunter's voice brought Echo back to the present.

"New security protocols and any other changes will be sent to your datapads," Blitz said. "You're expected to read them and know them." His visor turned in Wrecker's direction. "And follow them. Any soldier of the Empire who steps out of line does time in the brig, or faces decommissioning. Are there any questions."

Tech lifted a finger and inhaled. Crosshair stepped on his foot, and Wrecker wrapped a hand around Tech's mouth.

"Not at this time," Hunter said diplomatically.

Sha Koon was returned to her holding cell after a brief stay in the medical bay. She'd been mid-leap when a bolt from a training blaster had hit her between her shoulders and the world had gone dark. While a training bolt couldn't kill you—in theory—when directed at certain parts of the anatomy, it was akin to being hit by a stun blast; without the relief of unconsciousness. She'd crashed into the turret she'd been aiming for and collapsed to the floor of the training room. Thankfully, her antitox mask and eye protectors had stayed in place.

Once the Kaminoans determined that no lasting damage had been done to her, she'd been sent back to the brig. Now Sha sat in her cell and did her best to meditate. There was no one else in her cell, and the isolation from her fellow Jedi was beginning to wear on her. On top of that, her Force-suppression collar had been turned off during the training with the clones. That brief connection with the Force after almost two days without it made the loss again all the more painful. Trying to meditate without the Force was proving fruitless.

So, Sha turned to another comfort.

Since an early age, Sha had enjoyed a mental connection with her uncle, Plo Koon. They'd had a telepathic bond that existed outside of their connection to the Force—or so she hoped. That was part of the reason she'd volunteered for the mission to Kamino. They wouldn't have a way to contact the rest of the Jedi unless she could still communicate telepathically with her uncle.

Resettling herself on the bench, Sha turned her thoughts to that place in her mind where a sense of her esteemed uncle usually resided. She knew he'd been hurt on Cato Neimoidia, but hadn't gotten the details before she and the other had left for Kamino. The place where she could usually feel Plo was dark and quiet, which worried her. What if Plo had been succumbed to his injuries? What if their telepathy was so tied in with the Force that she wouldn't be able to reach him with the collar on? She and the Jedi with her wouldn't have a way to contact the Order, unless their trooper friends from the 501st could get access to a long-range comm.

Taking a breath, and trying to release her fears to the Force that she couldn't feel, Sha recentered herself, focusing on feeling her uncle's presence. She imagined the medbay on her uncle's Venator, the lights dimmed, the sounds of the ship muted in the background. In her mind's eye, Sha saw her uncle resting on a biobed, hooked up to monitors which showed his vitals to be stable. But that didn't quite feel right, so she changed the mental image. Plo, floating in a bacta tank. That was better, but still not quite right. She imagined her uncle's commander, Wolffe, standing nearby, arms folded over his chest as he watched his general.

Early in the war, Sha had lost her Padawan and a company of clone troopers during a battle on Giju. She'd returned to the Temple on Coruscant, and refused to fight anymore. She had, however, occasionally helped her uncle, and his Wolfpack, on their search and rescue missions. Sha didn't share her uncle's close bond—attachment—with the troopers of the 104th, but she did admire them, and counted them as friends.

The addition of Wolffe to the picture in her head seemed to be the right touch, and she felt an awareness of her uncle bloom in her mind.

/Sha?/

/Koh-to-ya, fraerah,/ Sha replied. /How are you?/

/A little worse for wear, I'm afraid. But I'll heal. Where are you, ydahrr kroka? You feel so far away./

Sha didn't reply right away. She didn't want to aggravate her uncle while he was healing.

/Little one?/ Plo questioned.

/I'm on Kamino, uncle,/ she said. /With Shaak Ti, and a few other Jedi. We are trying to rescue the clone cadets./

It was her uncle's turn to be silent as he digested that. Sha wished she could feel him in the Force. Was he disappointed in her choice? Supportive? Even though she was an adult, and had been for many years, Sha still sought her uncle's good opinion. She didn't want to disappoint him.

/Daig sti'a,/ Plo said finally. Be careful.

/I will, fraerah. I'll keep you updated on the goings on here./

/May the Force be with you, ydahrr kroka./

/And you, uncle./

The Zeta-class shuttle settled into the hanger bay of Tipoca City without fanfare. Colt, Blitz, Havoc, and Hammer were there to greet their guests, along with a squad of troopers, Prime Minister Lama Su, Doctor Nala Se, and Taun We.

The ramp of the shuttle descended and a moment later two figures emerged. One, distinctly female, wrapped in armor and black robes led the way. A helmet covered her face. On her heels strode a figure in modified clone trooper armor, painted black with red markings.

Lama Su stepped forward. "Inquisitor, welcome to Kamino. We have everything prepared for your stay with us. Would you like to refresh yourself before reviewing the troops?"

"No," the woman said, her voice tinny through the helmet's vocorder. "The review will start right away. Gather your best and bring them to the training room. Send their stats to my datapad for analysis."

Lama Su nodded. "Of course. Is there a name we can call you by, or shall we use Inquisitor?"

The woman reached up and removed her helmet, revealing short dark hair, green skin, and a dusting of diamond shaped indigo tattoos across the bridge of her nose.

"You may call me Frist Sister."

Mando'a:

Di'kutla - idiotic

Jetii - Jedi

Shebse - rear ends

Kel Dorian:

Koh-to-ya - a standard greeting

Fraerah - uncle

Ydahrr kroka - little blossom

Daig sti'a - be careful