"During the mission, we encountered a group of rebels, led by Saw and Steela Gerrera. They requested Republic support. I think they would benefit from that support. Their tactics need refining, and their equipment upgrading, but I think this would be a move worth making. Of course, the final decision is yours, General."
Ajax, to General Arligan Zey, after the mission to Onderon
0600 Hours, 1070 Days ABG, Arca Company Barracks, CoruscantThis was the most critical hour of the entire war effort. The Outer Rim Sieges were in full swing, Intelligence was hot on the trail of General Grievous, and it was felt by all that the end was near. The feeling was especially present in Jedi Master Arligan Zey.
Though the war was going well, Zey had some very bad news to deliver to Phi Squad. The Separatists had invaded Coruscant. When he looked out his office window, the Jedi could see more than a dozen CIS transports landing nearby. It seemed that not even the capital of the Republic was safe. The General tapped a button on his desk.
"General Zey to Phi Squad. Ajax, get your men down to my office at once."
Ever since Jusik had left the Order, Zey had had to take over the responsibility of briefing the clones. Zey didn't have any idea how his Padawan had kept all those names straight.
A tired-sounding clone answered the call. "Yes, General. We're on our way now."
Zey tapped the button once more. "Niner?"
"Yes, General?" was the Omega Squad sergeant's prompt reply.
"I need you boys down here as well."
"Right away, sir."
Zey slumped back in his chair and activated a tactical hologram of the battle over his desk. It didn't look good. The Separatists were gaining ground in the residential sector, where heavy fighting would surely hurt Galactic City's civilian population. The droids knew where to land so they would inflict the most damage. A careful strategy would be required in that sector.
Eight armored figures filed into the cramped office, four of them in nearly identical black armor, the other four in purple, green, yellow, and grey. The black figures were interspersed through the procession. All eight held their helmets identically under their left arms.
Niner and Ajax sat down at the desk.
"What's the news, General?" Ajax wondered. "Why'd you call us here?"
"The Separatists have arrived here. On Coruscant."
Familiar, concerned glances were exchanged through the room. Ka'rta with Buckler, Buckler with Darman, Tracker with Corr, Corr with Atin, and Niner with Ajax.
"The Chancellor," blurted Corr. "Is he safe?"
"The Coruscant Guard has been dispatched and he has been ordered to his personal bunker."
"I hope he gets there," said Buckler, his stomach churning at the thought of going to rescue the Supreme Commander. "Save the GAR a nightmarish headache."
"I hope so, too," agreed Zey, shifting the topic. "Now, then, to your orders. Omega, we need you to link up with Yayax Squad at Holonet News. You'll be defending the facility. Questions?"
The four clones in black armor shook their heads, in less synchronization than normal. They were noticeably worried.
"Good." The Jedi turned to Ajax. "Phi, your task is to hit key Separatist battleships in space. Take them out, and then you'll receive further orders."
Buckler raised his hand. "Are we supposed to bring them down or make them unusable?"
"Excellent question, thirty-three. Whichever prevents the droid crews from acting as reinforcements for other ships."
"Understood." The word choice sure sounded to Buckler like Zey was saying "blow the entire ship up." The best order of them all.
"Well, squads," Zey ordered, "get to it."
The two sergeants rose simultaneously and pulled their helmets on in one smooth motion. The six behind them also helmeted up. Suddenly, a tension became palpable in the room. It was a rush of adrenaline, the hormone brought on by the prospect of a new mission.
Buckler and Darman exchanged slaps on the back. It was clear the two had already bonded over their love for explosives.
"I hope to catch up with you after this mission, ner vod," Buckler stated.
"So do I, Buck," replied Darman. "We'll see each other again."
"I'm sure," Buckler replied.
Omega squad exited the small room, without so much as a glance back in. They were leaving to go on their mission. It wouldn't be so hard. Defense was one of the easiest jobs a squad of special ops troopers could handle. Just equip the sniper attachment for the Deece, set up a crossfire, and you were basically ready to go. A good soldier could handle almost anything that came at him if he was sufficiently dug in. And Republic Commandos were excellent soldiers.
That left Phi Squad and General Zey, who turned back to his holo. The Separatists were still gaining ground. The fight planetside would not be easy.
Ajax glanced at the holo, then decided it was time to leave. He ushered the rest of his squad out, then turned to exit the small room.
"Ajax?" Zey said.
The sergeant about-faced.
"The shuttle will drop you off one klick from the target. Make sure you have air supply."
"Will do."
"I'd like to give you the next briefing personally."
Ajax saluted. "You can count on us, sir. We'll be back here."
With that, the clone turned and walked through the door, not knowing if he would make good on that promise.
Ten Years Before Geonosis, KaminoKal Skirata stormed through the abnormally white corridors. This latest development would not fly. He thought about his Null boys. No, this idea will not go over with him.
A door slid into the wall in front of the Mandalorian training sergeant. Behind it stood a tall, grey-eyed Kaminoan.
"Can I help you?" the slender alien queried.
Kal simply stormed into the room and tore his gold helmet from his head. "You will not put some kriffing mind-control device in those clones."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Nala Se. You're the gihaal behind the inhibitor chips, aren't you?"
"Yes. I fail to see what this has to do with anything."
Skirata almost winced at the Kaminoan's arrogance. "Those chips are going to take away the last bit of humanity in those men. I forbid you to implant them."
Nala Se just smiled, studying the man's face. "So you're the sergeant who keeps interfering with our work."
Kal just took the insult, clenching his fists a bit tighter. "I knew it was useless to argue," he conceded. A three-sided knife slipped from the sleeve of his bantha hide jacket into his hand. He raised it to the long neck in front of him. "So I'll try a more traditional method of persuasion."
Nala Se stood there, dropping the datapad in her hands, looking positively shocked. For a Kaminoan, that is.
"This won't work," she insisted.
"Maybe not, but at least you'll listen," Kal retorted. "Sit."
The Kaminoan obeyed, hands raised in a feeble gesture of surrender.
Kal remained standing so he could look the much taller being in the eye. "Those aren't just products out there," he said, gesturing at the tall columns of growth jars. "They're living beings. You can't just rob them of their free will with those…" he shuddered slightly at the thought. "...mind-control chips."
"I beg to differ," Se interrupted. "Inhibitor chips are proven to make clones more stable. And more loyal soldiers," she hastily added.
"Loyalty isn't everything," Kal shot out. "Creativity and freedom of will make the best soldiers."
"So does mental stability."
Kal ignored that remark. This was his time to speak, his point to make. "You want loyalty? I'll show you loyalty. You're familiar with my Null boys?"
Se nodded. "How could I not know about them? Your interference in the matter…"
Kal interrupted her. "They're fiercely loyal. You know why that is?" He didn't wait for a response. "I taught them to be Mando'ade. That made them loyal. And far better fighters than your 'inhibitors' could make them."
"Perhaps, but units grown without…"
"No!" the Mandalorian yelled. "I will not have you dictating the thoughts of free-thinking men!"
"Perhaps we can reach a compromise," the Kaminoan suggested gently. "The commando units you are responsible for will be grown without chips."
"So you'll forgo giving the commandos inhibitors?" It does seem reasonable, suggested a small voice in the back of Kal's mind. Creativity doesn't always make good infantry. But always better commandos.
"Yes. The GI units will have chips, but not the commandos."
Kal made an angry huffing noise. "Fine. But don't try anything sneaky." He pressed the knife into the long, snakelike neck of the other. "I will find and gut you if I find you've broken your word." He turned and replaced his helmet. "Not that you have any guts, gihaal," he muttered.
0630 Hours, 1070 Days ABG, Arca Company Barracks, CoruscantKa'rta, Buckler, and Tracker were standing in the main hold of an LAAT/i parked on the Arca Barracks landing pad.
"Wonder what Ajax's holdup is," Tracker commented.
"Dunno," replied Buckler. "Maybe he's just trying to get Zey to give us new orders."
Ka'rta chuckled doubtfully. "He's probably sweeping every inch of our quarters to see if we forgot anything."
"Here he comes now," said Buckler, trying to make out what their sergeant was carrying. "Looks like he's got air tanks for us."
"Huh," said Tracker. "I guess we're dropping in from farther out than usual."
Ajax had linked back into the squad comlink by then. "Yep. We're going in from a thousand meters."
"Isn't that a bit far?" wondered Buckler.
The pilot was listening to their comm. "Unless you want me to get ripped to shreds by their turrets," he commented.
"Right," Buckler said. "Anti-fighter turrets. Forgot they had those."
"'Cause you've never flown into them. Let me tell you a little story," the pilot joked.
"No thanks," Ajax ordered. "Just fly us up to the drop point."
"Right-o, Sergeant."
The trip into space, and to the drop point, took about twenty minutes. Once at the designated coordinates, however, Ajax made sure the squad's oxygen tanks were securely fastened to their packs and that all had their supply tubes secure.
"These oxygen tubes look ridiculous," commented Tracker.
"Yeah, but they keep us alive," returned Buckler.
"Better ridiculous-looking and alive than suffocating out there," said Ka'rta wisely.
The gunship doors slid open, revealing a cold, empty vacuum. Space. It didn't seem that empty after very long, though. A soundless battle was raging. Blue and red blasterfire went whizzing by at incredible speeds, both near and far. When Ajax looked down, he saw dozens of Republic and Separatist capital ships, all firing at each other with more blasters than seemed realistic.
Directly below their gunship was a Separatist dreadnought, the Invisible Hand. That was their target, cyborg General Grievous's flagship.
"Let's go," ordered Ajax.
"You got it, boss," Tracker replied, jumping off the gunship.
Buckler promptly followed, himself trailed by Ka'rta. As the yellow shape faded into the distance, Ajax made his jump. He activated his HUD's "distance to target" indicator and the booster rockets attached to his shin plates. In zero G, he wouldn't get far without those rockets. The distance indicator counted down from a thousand. The numbers started to change faster and faster as the commando accelerated.
The indicator read at three hundred meters. Then Ajax's HUD started to turn red. A warning flashed at the top of the display. "Oxygen supply disconnected. Reattach right tube. Suffocation in thirty seconds."
The tube attached to the right side of his helmet had come loose, leaving Ajax without a supply of fresh air. Katarn armor was insulated against vacuum, but there was only so much oxygen available to someone without a supply of more.
"Shab!" Ajax cursed. He reached up to grab for the tube that connected to his helmet air intake. As his gloved hand felt around the chin of his helmet, he knocked the loose tube completely off.
"Osik!"
Ajax reached back to the oxygen tube to find the loose tube. He couldn't. That particular angle was uncomfortable for someone wearing a sleeveless shirt, to say nothing of Katarn armor. Ajax found it virtually impossible to reach that direction.
He looked back up to the red text on his HUD. "Suffocation in twenty-three seconds."
"Fierfek. I'm running out of air," he stated. "Find an entry point and get into that ship. Don't wait for me."
"Got it," said Buckler, who was standing on the Invisible Hand's hull with magnetized boots. He pulled a demo charge off of his pack, looking around for an airlock or weak spot in the hull.
"I can stand underneath you and try to reattach the tube when you get down here," offered Ka'rta. He was immensely worried that Ajax would suffocate and die. What would happen to the squad if Ajax died? Could I revive him if he suffocates? Can I deal with another dead brother? After a few seconds, the medic cleared his mind, the way Bralor had trained him years ago.
"No, get in the ship and complete the objective. I'll get in there if I can." Ajax had made up his mind. If he was destined to die, he would. Nothing he said or did now would change his fate. He was certain of that much.
"Okay, boss," Ka'rta returned.
The distance indicator on Ajax's HUD read at one hundred meters when he passed out. Warning lights popped up on his HUD, all too late. They were telling him to disengage his boot thrusters. He couldn't.
Ka'rta looked down and saw Ajax's biometrics on his HUD. The way his heartbeat and respiration were slowing, it looked like he was passed out from lack of oxygen. "Ajax?"
The silence that followed confirmed Ka'rta's suspicion. He noticed Ajax's thrusters were still engaged. With a couple of eye movements, he was able to override Ajax's control and shut down the thrusters. Momentum would carry the sergeant the rest of the way.
With less than three seconds, Ka'rta caught Ajax's limp form and reattached the oxygen tube. The sergeant's vitals improved almost immediately. A few seconds later, he woke.
"Where…" Ajax wondered, his voice weak, "...am I?"
"The Invisible Hand," replied Ka'rta, who had activated the magnets in the other's boots. That way he wouldn't float away from the ship.
"Right." Ajax looked up to see the cold vacuum above. His voice was already stronger, almost his normal, commanding tone. "Where are the others?"
Buckler answered that query. "About five meters to your left. I found and sliced an airlock over here. Tracker's inside, waiting for you."
Ajax smiled. "Good man." He began to walk over to the indicated airlock, with a little less pep in his step than was normal. Understandably, nearly suffocating to death really took it out of him.
Entry to the ship was easy, compared to most of their missions. All they had to do was slice the airlock without tripping the alarms. It was a blue milk run.
"That was a lot easier than Onderon," Tracker remarked.
"Yeah," agreed Ka'rta. "Not as easy as Rothana, though."
"We didn't have to jump through space on Rothana," Ajax pointed out. "We've got a job to do. Get to it."
"Aye," replied Ka'rta. The medic led the way into the Separatist flagship, through corridors that didn't look like they were frequently used. At present, the halls were completely empty of battle droids.
"I don't like this," Buckler reported. "It's far too quiet for my tastes."
The four pressed on, Deeces raised to shoot at anything that moved. They were the only Republic forces on the ship at present. That meant that anything that moved was a threat.
It was starting to look like maybe this ship wasn't such a crucial part of the Separatist offensive. Then Tracker spotted a large form in a corridor up ahead. He scrambled behind the nearest ledge, signaling to the others something was wrong.
"There's a large tinnie up ahead," Tracker reported. "Bigger than anything I've seen before."
"This is supposed to be the command ship of General Grievous," Ajax said.
"From what I've heard," remembered Ka'rta, "Grievous is just a sack of organs inside a droid body. It could be him up ahead."
"Wait a tick," said Buckler, peering out from behind his cover, "who's that behind him? The one in grey robes?"
"That's the Chancellor!" exclaimed Ajax. "I thought he was going to a bunker of some kind."
"I guess he never got there," said Tracker, echoing all their thoughts.
"We should contact General Zey," Ajax directed. "If the Seps have the Chancellor, I would think they have more droids here than the four of us can handle."
"Give me a detpack and a reactor core, and I can take out the entire Sep army," Buckler stated.
"Yeah," Ajax acknowledged, "but a little more finesse is needed for this one. Chancellor has to get out alive, remember?"
"So we're leaving this one to the Jedi?" asked Ka'rta.
"We have to." Ajax then tapped a few controls on his gauntlet, activating the long-range comlink. He tapped in the Arca Barracks com frequency.
Captain Maze, Zey's ARC assistant, picked up. "What do you need, Ajax?" The Alpha ARC's voice was very controlled and collected.
"I need to speak with General Zey. It's about the Chancellor."
"Why don't I route your signal to the Jedi Council? They'll be better off than Zey hearing about this."
"As you wish."
A faint crackle was heard in the audio as Maze rerouted the transmission to the Jedi Temple.
"Fierfek," swore Ka'rta. "They're letting us talk to the Council? Must be really important."
"He's the Chancellor," Buckler reminded. "The leader of the Republic. The single most important man in the Galaxy."
Maze had gotten the Jedi masters' attention with the communication by then. A hologram of the Council flared into life in Ajax's glove.
"News of the Chancellor, you have?" the wizened master Yoda croaked.
"Yes," Ajax replied simply, only faintly aware he appeared in the center of a circle of twelve Jedi Masters. "The Separatists have taken him prisoner aboard General Grievous's command ship."
At this, Yoda turned to his number one, Mace Windu. "A grave situation this is. Very delicate."
"I agree," was Windu's reply. "I think we should send a Master. Grievous has bested some of our greatest duelists."
Shaak Ti, a Togruta master who had failed to protect the Chancellor from Grievous, looked downward in shame.
Ki-Adi Mundi stirred. He had fought Grievous at the Battle of Hypori. "I concur. Perhaps someone like General Kenobi?"
At this suggestion, Obi-Wan gazed over. He was the focus of all of the gazes in the room, even Ajax's hologram.
"I could not defeat Grievous alone," Kenobi stated simply. "It would be best if I recalled Anakin from Mandalore and brought him with me."
Windu looked a bit uncomfortable at the suggestion. "I'm not so convinced Skywalker is the right choice. Ever since his Padawan left, he's gotten closer to the Dark Side. I should go with you."
Yoda bent forward in his chair. "Master Windu, together, the best we have to offer Skywalker and Kenobi are. Agree with Obi-Wan, I do."
Windu made an uncomfortable expression. "It is settled, then."
Ajax had watched the exchange with muted interest. It seemed to him that Jedi politics were tearing themselves apart from the inside.
"Excuse me, Generals, but what about my squad?" wondered the sergeant.
Yoda turned back to the hologram of the commando in the center of the room. "Evacuate, you will. Take care of the Chancellor, we will. Worry about it, do not."
Ajax saluted the circle of Jedi and disconnected the comlink.
"You heard him, boys," Ajax said, with much less vigor than normal, "we're getting out of here. Shift it."
Ajax hadn't yelled the command as he normally did. That made Ka'rta worried about him. He requested a private comlink with Ajax. The notification popped up in the sergeant's helmet, a request to speak privately. He accepted.
"What's wrong, Aje?" asked the medic. "Were you not expecting to wake up after your hose disconnected?"
"Something like that," Ajax grumbled back. His tone began to lighten. "I was so ready to die back there. And then I woke up with you standing over me. It just felt a little bit…" the thought trailed off for a few seconds. "...like I was cheating or something."
"It's been a long war, Ajax," Ka'rta consoled. "Three standard years, six biological years for us."
"Yeah," Ajax replied, quietly. "I'm just so ready for it to be over."
"I know, Aje. I know."
It was a long walk for the four clones to the Invisible Hand's hangar bay. Somehow, they were able to board the turbolift and get down to within a deck of the hangar without much trouble.
"All the droids must be occupied trying to protect their prisoner," Tracker mused, thinking about how quiet their trip had been. "It's nice not having to look over my shoulder through iron sights every two paces."
"I'm just worried about internal sensors picking us up," Ajax said. He had started feeling better after confessing his "death wish" to Ka'rta.
"I don't think they're checking internal sensors," Buckler said hopefully. "They aren't aware we were already here. Their only concern is infiltrators."
"Let's hope that's true," said Ajax.
A few paces later, the four discovered that their hopes were in vain. A ray shield activated, surrounding them. It was projected from the ceiling.
"Fierfek," some combination of two voices swore.
"Try blasting the shield projector," Ajax advised. "It might not be protected by the shield."
"Good thinking, boss," said Buckler, raising his blaster. He fired two shots. "No effect."
"Blast," the sergeant swore. "This space is too small to try blasting our way out with explosives."
Tracker stared intently at the floor. "The shield doesn't come around under us. If we could somehow force an explosion directly into the floor…"
"Then we could get out of here without killing ourselves," finished Ajax. "Great thinking!"
Tracker smiled embarrassedly, grateful for the static faceplate of his helmet.
Buckler was already working on the solution, unclipping his survival pack from his armor. "This pack is made from the same blast-resistant material as our armor. If I position the opening just right, it should protect us from the blast, while directing enough energy downward to blow a hole in the floor. Kind of like a shaped charge."
"Good man," smiled Ajax.
As soon as Buckler had started working on their exit strategy, he looked up from his work. The steady beat of droids' clanking, metallic footsteps was faint in the distance. Ajax frowned.
"Any time now, Buck," the sergeant said, patient yet forceful.
"I'm working as fast as I can," returned the demoman, panicked and apologetic.
The precisely timed footsteps of the approaching droids were still getting louder. Nearly deafening by that point. The droids were just around the corner.
"Ready to detonate, boss," Buckler reported.
"Anytime you like. Soon, preferably."
With that command, Buckler pressed the detonator. The first of the droids had rounded the corner. A moment later, there was a hole in the floor large enough to fit a man through. Buckler threw a rope through the hole, and slid down into the pipe below. He was followed by Tracker, then Ka'rta, and lastly, Ajax.
"Well," Ajax reported, "they know we're here and they'll be able to tell where we are unless we mask ourselves from the sensors somehow."
"I can use the comm to create a jamming signal," Buckler suggested.
"Sounds like the best option," Ajax agreed. "Get on it."
"They might be able to track the signal," Buckler admitted. "I'll have to leave my antenna here."
"And we haven't got time to pull it out of your helmet," Ajax said. "We're leaving the helmet behind and making it out of here in a shuttle."
"At least we're only a deck up," commented Tracker. "With our luck, we could be ten decks up."
"If those deck plans I sliced are accurate," observed Buckler. He took off his helmet and placed it on the bottom of the ventilation shaft. "Jamming signal active. Let's get out of here."
As Phi Squad crawled through the narrow pipe, they heard the ray shield that had trapped them deactivate. Then, a thermal detonator-shaped object dropped through the hole. A cloud of smoke issued from it.
"They're trying to smoke us out!" Ka'rta exclaimed. "We have to move before that smoke catches up to Buckler."
"It's only ten more meters," Buckler consoled. "I can make it that far."
Crawling turned to a cramped shuffling as the squad hurried towards their hangar objective. The smoke crept toward them, with it the promise of suffocation for Buckler. The rest, wearing their helmets, would be unaffected by the smoke.
The smoke was creeping around Buckler's boots when he finally reached the air vent leading to the hangar. He punched the grate out of the wall and dropped two meters to the floor of the hangar. There was a shuttle on the other side of the cavernous room.
"There it is," Buckler announced. "Our ride out of here."
"If we can get over there in time," Ajax stipulated. "Looks like there are some security droids headed our way." He looked over at a nearby open door, flanked by two rows of red-shouldered battle droids.
"This ought to keep them off our backs for a while," Buckler returned, tossing an EC grenade at the approaching droids. "That blew up real good."
"Can't count on it delaying them much," Ajax argued. "Double time to that shuttle!"
Phi Squad began to run toward the shuttle, even as blaster fire began pressuring them away. However, droids were programmed to point and shoot, not take out enemy objectives.
Tracker split off from the group to fire back. He downed half a dozen droids before turning back around and running past the shuttle. He distracted some of the droids with this maneuver, which proceeded to fire at him. The sniper eventually made it back around to the shuttle, where the rest were waiting.
Ka'rta sat at the helm, ready to lift off. He flicked a few switches above his head, then brought his hand down to the throttle in front of him. The shuttle began to pull off the ground, the boarding ramp retracting and the doors sliding shut.
"You might want to strap in," the pilot-medic suggested. "I haven't flown one of these Sep shuttles yet. Might get a little bumpy."
Ajax grabbed ahold of some cargo webbing, motioning for the others to do the same. They grabbed hold.
The four were lucky the attacking B1s' targeting sensors were slightly miscalibrated. Any better targeting on the droids' part, and their shuttle would have been permanently grounded.
Ka'rta was madly flicking switches on his consoles. "Looks like those droids took out our stabilizers. I'm going to have to set down real soon."
Buckler took that to mean he needed to get the transponder fixed so it transmitted a Republic frequency. He crept towards the copilot's station, holding fast to the cargo net.
"You're not setting down on any Republic vessel if I don't change the transponder frequency," the slicer announced.
"Well, then, by all means," Ka'rta invited. "I'm setting this ship down as soon as I possibly can. In a Republic hangar."
"I know," replied Buckler, working furiously. "Almost got it."
"Hurry the shab up or we get blasted to pieces by that Venator!"
1400 Hours, Senate Building, Coruscant"I must commend you four in some way," spoke Sheev Palpatine, Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. "I owe my life and continued work as Chancellor to your quick thinking back there on the Invisible Hand. For this, I present to you, Phi Squad of Arca Company, Special Operations Brigade, the Medallion of Honor."
Ajax stood there, in front of his squad, battle-scarred, purple-striped helmet tucked carefully under his left arm. He looked shocked.
The squad behind him had varying degrees of disbelief etched on their faces. Despite the surprise, their collective posture remained ramrod straight. After all, the four were being addressed by their Supreme Commander, the Chancellor.
"With all due respect, sir," Ajax began, his eyes locked straight forward, a tear beginning to glimmer in his gaze, "I can think of men more deserving this honor than I," he finished flatly. From the tear in his eye, now flowing down his cheek, those closest to him could tell he was talking about Ca'ad.
General Zey stood to Ajax's right, flanked closely by Captain Maze. Ajax's announcement had utterly shocked him. The general discreetly nudged Ajax, as if saying, "Are you crazy? This is the highest honor you can receive."
Maze smirked slightly, knowing Ajax was quite uncomfortable with the honor. He would have been, too, had the medal been presented to him.
Palpatine shrugged off the response, as though he was expecting some such modesty. "Ah, yes. Your late brother Ca'ad. He will be the posthumous recipient of a Golden Heart for his actions on Carlac."
"Thank you, sir," Ajax replied, several more hot tears streaking his face. "But I only did as I was trained."
Palpatine disregarded this comment as well, proceeding to affix the medal of honor on the sergeant's left breastplate. "My dear boy, take this medal in honor of your lost brother. Take it for me, your Supreme Commander," he muttered such that only Ajax heard. No matter how hard he tried, Ajax couldn't help but think the Chancellor's lips had remained firmly clasped the entire time.
"RC-8233, step forward," the Chancellor commanded.
Buckler stepped up to Ajax's left, keeping his gaze firmly locked forward. He noticed the tears on his sergeant's face as he, too, received a Medallion of Honor. For the first time, the slicer let his gaze drift. Stuck to his left breastplate with a magnet was a scarlet ribbon, attached to a golden medallion bearing the familiar eight-spoked insignia of the Republic.
"RC-5280, step forward."
Ka'rta stepped out next to Buckler to receive his medallion. The Chancellor affixed it in the same way he had Ajax's and Buckler's. His face, too, was touched by tears.
Before Palpatine had time to speak Tracker's number, the sniper was standing next to Ka'rta, face devoid of emotion.
Ka'rta noticed the extremely stoic expression of the other and thought, Fierfek. I thought we weren't supposed to be droids. Maybe that crazy ARC from the 501st was onto something with that 'inhibitor chip' conspiracy theory.
"RC-9726, step forward," said the Chancellor, in his deep, humorless ceremonial voice.
Tracker took a half step forward, so as not to disobey the command nor to get in the Chancellor's path. His gaze, unlike Buckler's, did not waver in the slightest as Palpatine affixed his medal. When the Chancellor was finished with that, the sniper stepped back into his squad's line.
As Palpatine stepped backwards, Ajax and the rest raised their hands to their brows in a unison, ceremonial salute. The Chancellor nodded slowly, the signal to finish the salute and a gesture of dismissal.
Phi Squad gracefully replaced their helmets and about-faced before marching out of Palpatine's red-walled office.
A half hour later, the exhausted Phi Squad arrived back at Arca Company Barracks, where Omega Squad was waiting.
"Heard the Chancellor was quite grateful you spotted him on that command ship," called Darman, gesturing to the medals worn by the four. "Never heard of a clone getting one of those before. All we ever got were those shabla graduation medals on Kamino."
Buckler grinned. "Jealous?"
Darman punched him, softly, to show his affection. "You know me, don't you?"
"I do," Buckler answered, punching the other back. "You are jealous."
"Not," replied Darman, with another friendly punch. "Well, okay, maybe a little." His smile faded a bit.
Buckler noticed the change in tone. "Hey. It's just a medal. I didn't ask for it. I would rather have left it on the Chancellor's desk." He unfastened the medal.
"You didn't," sulked Darman. "Someone like Fi should have got that medal. His sacrifice on Gaftikar was more than you ever did."
Buckler stammered, at a loss for words. "You seriously expect me to have just taken it off my chest plate and given it back to him? You don't just tell the osik'la Chancellor you're not worthy. If it was up to me, I'd give the whole kriffing army one of these. Here." Buckler shoved the medal, in his gloved fist, over to his friend, who eyeballed it for a long moment. "Take it. You deserve it as much as I do. Or get Kal to take it to Fi, wherever he is."
It was Darman's turn to stutter incoherently. "Serious?"
Buckler opened his fist. The scarlet ribbon and gold medallion looked tantalizing to Darman. He almost reached out and snatched it from his friend. Then he decided not to.
"I-I can't. The Chancellor gave it to you. You deserve it." Darman had been impressed by his friend's humility. Having lived among clones his whole life, he knew it was an honest trait. When you lived among those who were physically identical to you, you tended to recognize the sacrifices of your brothers. You tended to be more willing to make sacrifices to your brothers.
Buckler's fist soon reclosed, showing Darman the conversation was over. Jealousy never got anyone anything.
The two turned their backs to each other, and walked to separate sides of the parade grounds. Waiting on each side were the two's respective squads. As he walked, Buckler reaffixed the scarlet ribbon to his two-tone green breastplate. It wasn't pristine, though. Hadn't been for many long years. His squad began to file into the hallway, towards their quarters. Then Tracker spotted a familiar bantha-hide jacket hiding gold beskar'gam.
"Kal'buir!" the sniper shouted, turning to run toward the short, grey-haired figure. Apparently, even a year of training under Kal made you bond with him. He had that kind of fatherly effect. Even the rest of Phi viewed him as a father, and trusted him with their lives.
"Tracker," the short Mandalorian stated, opening his arms wide in an embrace. Tracker ran into his arms, to have his hair ruffled paternally.
Ka'rta smiled, remembering how Bralor would always ruffle his hair. He wondered who had picked the gesture up from whom, whether it was first Kal's thing or Bralor's. He soon decided it wasn't important and headed over to talk to Kal'buir. He was recognized by the old father-sergeant almost immediately.
"Ka'rta," recognized Kal. "It's nice to see you."
Ka'rta grinned in reply. "You too."
Skirata grinned back. "I was expecting you to ask about Rav," he stated boldly.
"I was going to get to good old Sergeant Bralor later."
"She's not old," Kal said, in an almost cautioning tone. "I'm old."
"So, how is our buir?"
"I thought you said you were coming back around to that," Kal teased.
Ordo stepped next to Kal from a few paces behind and whispered something in his ear. The old man frowned.
"Excuse me," Kal said to Tracker and Ka'rta. "Ord'ika tells me Omega needs me to go talk with them. Oh, Ajax?" The old sergeant leaned out to see Ajax. "Niner's asked you to come."
Ajax turned from his conversation with Buckler to follow Kal.
As Skirata left, Ordo didn't immediately turn to follow him, as was his habit. "Ka'rta, I never got to tell you I thought what you did back at Geonosis was incredibly brave. I still haven't seen something as atin as that."
Ka'rta almost blushed. It had been three years since he had tried and failed to disarm that bomb. "Thanks, Ordo," the medic said simply, not knowing any other words for the moment.
The captain saluted the Medallion of Honor recipient and turned to follow Kal.
Niner was sitting in his squad's quarters, drumming his fingers absently on the table in front of him. He was nervous because Kal and Ajax were taking a little too long. That, or Ordo had taken too long to deliver his summons…
The door to Omega Squad's quarters flew open with a rush of wind. In walked Kal and Ajax. The two looked around, seeing only Niner. Kal opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Niner.
"I sent the others to the mess. Thought I'd talk to the two of you alone," Niner explained. "About the end of the war."
Skirata decided he should say something. "Don't feel obligated to leave the army," he urged. "But I just bought a nice piece of land on Concord Dawn. Quiet, out of the way.…" he turned to Ajax. "Rav's there, too. I'm sure she'll…"
Ajax cut the old sergeant off. "Niner and I talked a few weeks ago. The end is coming, and we're going to defect. This war has been long enough for us."
Kal nodded, respectful of the others' decision. "You need to talk to your squads about this. Don't force everyone to come with you. Just make sure they know my door will always be open for a clone who wants to come in."
Ajax and Niner nodded in agreement.
"Now that's settled," Ajax said, "I'll go sort it with my squad." He turned to exit, putting his helmet back on.
Right as Ajax left, Ordo strode in. "Kal'buir?" he asked.
Kal turned to face his adopted son. "Yes, Ord'ika?"
"There's a matter General Zey wishes to discuss." It was the only way Ordo could think of to get Kal out of the room. The two needed to get back to Kyrimorut. Fi was doing better, according to the latest report.
"Well, then, let's not keep him waiting."
Ajax strolled back to his quarters, a million things on his mind. Foremost, though, was the end of the war. He knew it was coming, after three abnormally long years. He was thinking about how his squad would react to the idea of defection. It would mean seeing Bralor again, but they wouldn't be able to do much to make money without giving up the Clan. The door slid aside in front of him, revealing his squad, chatting relaxedly.
"What's up, Ajax?" Ka'rta asked immediately. He noticed Ajax's preoccupied expression the moment he had walked in.
"It's about the end of the war. When it's over, I'd like to defect to Kal."
The other three murmured in agreement. "We'd been talking about it, too. When this war finally ends, we'll go with you to Concord Dawn," agreed Tracker. "All of us."
"I hope Bralor got the invite," commented Buckler. "It'll be good to see our old sergeant again."
"I know she did," Ajax confirmed. "Kal told me so."
Buckler and Ka'rta smiled when they heard that. "It's good to know our old sergeant is still around somewhere."
Thoughts of Bralor brought feelings of home, but there was also something unsettling about it. The last time they'd seen Bralor was right after Ca'ad had died. Buckler was most affected by the connection. He glanced over at the black armor plates in the corner and a tear rolled down his cheek. The pain was still fresh, even two years later. There was no real peace yet for Buckler. It had all just been delayed by the intermittent surges of combat.
Ka'rta put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la," he told his brother. Not gone, merely marching far away. The Mando words of comfort didn't seem to help Buckler's mood.
"Cuy ogir'olar," Buckler replied. The sentiment was irrelevant in his eyes, at least for the moment.
"Partayli aay'han, ner vod," Ajax replied. Remember that mourning is irrelevant. Remember aay'han, the bittersweet Mando way of remembrance.
Buckler huffed angrily. "Ba'slan solus. Nar'sheb." Shove off.
Ajax backed away, raising his hands as in surrender. "Gar vercopa." Your wish.
A few days passed without fanfare before anything happened other than the occasional debate and bet on their next mission. It was almost a week before anything of note happened. That event was Delta Squad returning from the combat zone on Kashyyyk. There was something strange about their return. Scorch wasn't wisecracking, and Fixer wasn't telling him off for it. The team was also missing the occasional sassy remark from Sev.
Ajax walked over to them, accompanied by Niner. "Where's Sev?" he asked, a bit worried.
Scorch stammered a few times before starting to cry a bit. "We… just…." the thought trailed off.
Boss's deeper and stronger voice finished. "We were ordered to abandon him. Master Yoda himself. I don't care if the whole bloody invasion would have failed. Sev ought to be worth more than that. We're not just disposable, are we?"
Niner reached over with a comforting hand. "I'm so sorry, Boss. You, too, Scorch."
Even Fixer wasn't his normal austere self. "Damn tinnies. They probably killed him out there."
"Have a little faith," Ka'rta directed. "He was one of us, wasn't he? I think he might have survived."
"I doubt it," replied Fixer. "His last comm.…" It was Fixer's turn to break off with tears. He wasn't entirely tough as permacrete after all.
"Sorry," Boss said to his old friends. "We just need to figure this out alone for a while."
Ajax nodded and led Niner and their squads away. General Etain Tur-Mukan, just back from the lines, started to run up towards Darman, hugging him when she got there. Darman hugged back, looking to Niner for approval. His sergeant nodded in approval, and the two left into Galactic City.
2000 Hours, 1,089 Days ABG, CoruscantThe last week had been a long haul for Phi, Omega, and Delta. Darman was the only one in a better-than-melancholy mood. And that was only because Etain was back in town.
Something seemed to be quite wrong, other than the fact they were staying at the barracks so long. Radio chatter seemed to indicate a situation at the Chancellor's office. Ajax thought he'd heard a pilot report shuttling Mace Windu and a few other Jedi Council members to the Senate building. It had been a long day for him and his squad. Buckler was already sleeping, and the rest were in bed. It was going to be a restful night.
An hour later, Ajax woke with a start. Something had happened. Something big. A voice sounded in his head. The Chancellor's voice, as clear as if he was standing right next to them. But Ajax wasn't wearing his helmet.
"Execute Order 66," said the crackly Sith's voice.
Jedi, Ajax thought. The Jedi are now enemies of the Republic. Fierfek. I don't think I can kill Jedi. Wait, is this even true? I'm not wearing my helmet. How could a comm get through to me? He remembered the medal ceremony, where Palpatine had spoken without moving his lips. Ajax picked up his gauntlet, looking for a new communication. Sure enough, there was one. With the encryption code of the Supreme Chancellor. Oh, no.
The other three stirred in their sleep, before waking suddenly.
Buckler spoke. "Was that a dream? I heard Order 66."
Ka'rta replied, "I had the same dream."
Ajax waved his gauntlet, with the message inscribed on it by a hologram. "It's true." He glanced out the south-facing window, towards the Jedi Temple. It was aglow with flame, against the dark sky. "Look."
Tracker was already up and with his armor on. Good soldiers follow orders.
Ka'rta turned to him. "What's up?" he asked. "This isn't our problem. We don't have to actively hunt Jedi, just shoot those we see. And we can always say we didn't see them anyways." Seeing Tracker move towards the door, he blocked it. "This isn't our problem. You don't have to do this."
Tracker raised his Deece, pointing it at his brother. "RC-5280, you're in my way." His accent had changed under the control of his inhibitor chip. He now sounded like any rank-and-file clone. "Step aside."
Buckler joined the medic. "Ka'rta's right. It isn't our problem."
Tracker reaimed his blaster. "Good soldiers follow orders, RC-8233. Step aside."
Ajax finally decided which side he was on and moved to block Tracker. "I'm your superior officer, Tracker. I'm ordering you to stand down and disregard that contingency order. You said it yourself. 'Good soldiers follow orders.'"
"You are correct, RC-3608." Tracker hadn't said, "You're right, boss." Something must have been terribly wrong with him to point a blaster at his squadmates. It also looked like he had a brief moment of conflict, like the inhibitor had lost its control. Tracker shook the conflict off. Good soldiers follow orders, he reminded himself. He pointed the blaster at his sergeant. "You're not complying with the order. That means you're a traitor to the Republic, same as the Jedi." The sniper prepared to shoot, taking his rifle off safety and practicing his breath control. "Good soldiers follow orders," he breathed, repeating the phrase several times under his breath.
Ajax thought this would be a good time for a bright idea. "Ka'rta, Buckler, step aside. Let the good man pass."
Ka'rta stared in disbelief for a second, believing the same thing had happened to Ajax as had happened to Tracker.
Ajax winked, showing this was all just part of the plan.
Ka'rta stepped to the side of the door, showing his arm in a gesture of "go ahead."
Tracker immediately lowered his rifle and exited the room. He had stopped chanting his mantra.
Ajax started snapping on his armor plates. "Come on. We haven't got any time to lose. We have to stop him one way or another."
"Just don't kill him," Ka'rta pleaded. "He's a good man. I'm sure he'll come around eventually. Arm non-lethal PEP laser."
Buckler followed his brother's directive. Ajax didn't.
"We don't have a stun setting on the blaster attachment," Buckler noted. "Why aren't you switching?"
"Don't you see?" Ajax asked his squad. "If we go out there with stun blasters, Tracker will know something's up. Order 66 specifies lethal force. We have to keep our blasters on 'kill.'"
Buckler realized Ajax was right. Begrudgingly, so did Ka'rta.
"So we shoot our brother in the leg or something?" Buckler finally asked.
"Kill him if we have to." Ajax hadn't been talking like that since Rothana. He thought Tracker was a lost cause. "I don't think he'll be on our side ever again."
Tracker came back to the squad quarters, practically skipping. "Maze just got Zey. Our work here in the barracks is done."
The helmet comm crackled, in the way orders from Command did.
Palpatine's voice came through. "I have already ordered my new apprentice and the 501st to the Jedi Temple," he declared. "But they are not able to finish the job. I need you, Phi Squad, to infiltrate the Temple and eliminate any other survivors."
"Everyone?" wondered Ajax. "Even the younglings?"
"Wipe them out," Palpatine answered. "All of them."
"Sir, yes, sir." The order didn't seem like something Ajax would so easily comply with. It's the best way we can get Jedi out of there, he reasoned.
Palpatine's comlink crackled back into oblivion. The Chancellor wouldn't hear any more of their conversation.
"Let's find some transport over to the Temple," Ajax ordered before cutting Tracker out of the comlink. "Ka'rta, Buckler, I hope you know we're not going over there to kill Jedi. We're going in so we can save a few."
"Oh, good," Ka'rta said, relieved. "I was worried we'd lost you there for a second."
Phi Squad was greeted by none other than General Skywalker, freshly dubbed Darth Vader. He was no longer a Jedi, judging from the yellowed hue of his eyes.
Tracker immediately saluted.
Vader nodded imperceptibly at the gesture, then turned to Ajax. "There is a cell of Jedi insurgents hiding in the West Tower. I can sense them, but my scouts have reported nothing. Find the hiding Jedi."
"Yes, sir," Ajax responded simply.
The four left the Temple entrance for the West Tower. On the way there, the floor was littered with robed corpses. Few were holding their lightsabers. Most had their weapons still attached to their belts. The massacre had happened suddenly and without any warning.
"All these bodies," Buckler said, shocked at the heinous atrocity they were witnessing.
"Still warm on infrared," Ajax noted.
The four soon reached the turbolift that would lead them into the communications tower. It made sense that the Jedi would hide there. They would have a chance of transmitting a message.
Ajax looked around the elevator towards his sniper. "Tracker, I need you to stay here and guard the turbolift, make sure we don't miss them if they go out this way."
"Yes, sir. I'll be ready," replied the foreign voice of their comrade. He was practically beaming at the prospect of some action.
The turbolift stopped on the topmost level of the tower. The communications center. The three except Tracker went into the room, a veritable treasure trove of holodisplays and military data. Other than the soft blue light of holograms, the room was dark. The three turned on their spot-lamps to give the room some light.
"Buck, get your life-form scanner," Ajax ordered. "Everyone, holster your weapons and secure grenades. We don't want the Jedi to spook."
Buckler pulled a small device from his belt, one that looked like a flashlight with a holodisplay on its back. The slicer turned it on, producing a blue, conical holographic scanning beam. He scanned the room from top to bottom. "Nothing yet, boss. Wait a tick." A red dot appeared on the display. "Got something over here, under the holoprojector."
Ajax turned on his external audio system and crouched next to the table Buckler had indicated. "It's okay. We're here to help." He noticed a grate, with a small child, no older than seven, cowering in fear. "I promise," he said, open palms held out in a gesture of peace.
"Boss," Buckler yelled, "behind you!"
There was a teenage Padawan running towards the sergeant, lightsaber raised. He was yelling fiercely. "Never trust a clone!"
The next few moments were utterly laced with fear for Ajax. He was lucky Ka'rta could switch weapon attachments in one swift movement.
The next moment, the Padawan was writhing in pain on the ground. The PEP laser might not have been lethal, but it hurt like a bantha stampede.
"We didn't kill you," Ajax calmly explained. "Order 66 specifies lethal force. Ka'rta, open a secure comm to Kal'buir. Tell him where to pick us up. Buck, keep scanning."
The two nodded in unison and did as they were told.
The Padawan on the floor was now in far less pain, and looked quite hurt.
"Sorry about that," Ajax apologized, sitting on the floor next to the young Jedi. "He was acting on instinct to protect me." Ajax gestured to Ka'rta, working furiously at a holoprojector. "Are there more than just the two of you around here?"
The Padawan crossed his arms, still distrustful.
Ajax sighed in exasperation. "I'll take off my helmet if that makes you feel any better."
The Padawan nodded reluctantly.
Ajax removed the offending item, and proceeded to demonstrate his peacefulness by placing his blaster next to it, at the edge of his reach.
"We have to find and get your friends out of here before the others kill them, okay?" the sergeant said, trying to ease the atmosphere of distrust.
The Padawan finally came to the conclusion he could trust Ajax, and said, "There are five more of us on the lower level. Please tell me you can get them out, too."
"We'll do our best." Ajax stood up, vowing to get the other Jedi out of the Temple. "How well are they hiding?" he asked, wondering if the kid knew where his friends really were.
The Padawan looked deep in concentration for a moment, then declared, "They're hidden in an air vent just below you. Should I cut the way out?" the teen asked, igniting his lightsaber with a smile.
"Sure," Ajax said absently. He was far too used to confirming requests like that. The sergeant reholstered his Deece and replaced his helmet, then turned to Ka'rta, who was speaking to a hologram of Kal. The old man was seated, in what looked like a cockpit.
"...I can be there in a minute or two," reported Kal. "I'm just at the Shinarcan bridge extension waiting for Etain and Omega. I'll get you boys ASAP. Top level, you said?"
"That's right," Ka'rta answered. "Western tower, top level." The medic sighed deeply. "I hope we can drop off these Jedi somewhere on the way to Concord Dawn."
"I think I know a place," Kal assured the medic. His ship sure was becoming a stopping point for all kinds of strays.
"Thanks. See you shortly." Ka'rta tapped a button and the transmission ended.
Ajax smiled. "This plan might just work to perfection," he gloated.
"I sure hope so," said Buckler, helping the younglings out of the air vent below. "It would be nice if things finally went off without a hitch."
"Would someone please slice a hole in the wall so we can get on our ride out of here?" Ajax said, to no one in particular.
The Padawan who had charged him earlier immediately tapped the control on his saber and began cutting. Not long after he'd finished, a sleek DeepWater-class submersible flew up to the hole.
Ordo stood on the top of the craft, dubbed Aay'han, to usher people inside. "Let's move!" he ordered. "We can't float here all day."
The six younglings and their Padawan protector jumped the half-meter gap from the wall to the ship in quick succession. Just as Ka'rta was preparing to go through the hole, a door slid open behind them. The turbolift. The three clones turned sharply to face it. Tracker stepped out, accompanied by Vader, whose blue lightsaber was on and raised. The Sith was prepared to block any blaster bolts they tried to shoot at him.
Nonetheless, the commandos began laying down cover fire for their rescuees' escape. Vader deflected every blast, and Tracker even began to shoot their direction. The fact that he couldn't choose a target didn't help his aim. In fact, he missed every shot. Not that a DC-17m could even dent Katarn armor, though.
Ordo was unholstering his own weapon at that point, and providing cover fire for the three clones. "Come on, shift it!"
"We can't leave Tracker!" Ka'rta yelled, quite conflicted about leaving his brother behind. They had made a promise to desert together. Ka'rta wasn't keen to break that promise.
"We don't have time!" Ordo yelled back. "Get over here, or we're leaving you, too!"
Reluctantly, Ka'rta lowered his Deece and made the jump. Buckler and Ajax followed him very quickly, and they descended through the dorsal airlock on the vessel, into the crowded cargo hold.
The hold wasn't as crowded as they'd expected, though.
"Where're Niner, Darman, and Etain?" Buckler asked Atin.
"Etain's dead," Atin pronounced. "And Niner got hurt. Darman went with him."
Buckler raised his eyebrows in shock. The expression was obscured by his helmet. "Fierfek." It was the only thing he could say. The only thing any of them could say.
Ordo swooped down through the airlock, his kama flipping up behind him as he fell. "Everyone's here, Kal'buir. Let's get out of here." The door in the top of the vessel slid shut behind him.
A disembodied voice floated down from the cockpit. "Okay, Ord'ika. Next stop, Alderaan."
The ship pulled away from the hole, and when Buckler looked out the aft viewport, he saw Tracker readying anti-armor, ready to blow his former brothers and the Jedi they were helping into oblivion. Vader stood next to him, the fearsome blue blade returning to the hilt. The Sith turned on his heel, and gestured for Tracker to follow. Somewhat reluctantly, it seemed, the sniper complied with the gesture, following his master back into the depths of the Jedi Temple. Perhaps the clone had remembered his promise to desert. Maybe he just wanted to kill the Jedi on the ship, and the rest were collateral damage.
The ride to Alderaan was spent in various stages and intensities of shock, anger, and, primarily, grief. Part of it was the fact that almost none of them knew what civilian life was. Omega had had a brief taste on Coruscant in the second year of the war, but that was nothing like true civilian life. They had been trying to stop a Separatist terror cell. It would be a hard adjustment anywhere else in the Galaxy. At least the Mandalorians on Concord Dawn would understand. Then again, they might just want to turn in the clone deserters to Palpatine. Rumors had already begun to spread of his reorganization of the Republic into a Galactic Empire. That man was desperate to stay in power, now that the war was over.
Hours later, Aay'han emerged from hyperspace. Alderaan looked quite beautiful this time of year, Ajax noted. As they descended, it was like watching the oceans of Kamino, except the waves were of amber grain, not cold, dark water. The trees were also brilliant shades of yellow and orange, in response to the changing weather.
Aay'han descended into a forest of a different kind: permacrete and durasteel. They landed in the city of Aldera, the planet's capital. Bail Organa was waiting for them on the landing platform. He was flanked by two CTs and an RC.
Kal paid the soldiers no mind as he descended the landing ramp. In fact, those three were the main reason he had come to Aldera. The clones in the hold reacted a little differently.
"Did Senator Organa betray us?" wondered Buckler. "Those clones probably won't see us as friends."
"They might have had their inhibitor chips removed," remarked Ka'rta. "I don't think someone like Senator Organa would betray the Jedi. There are rumors he tried to extract some from the Temple himself."
Kal said something to Organa, and gestured to the Jedi children on the landing ramp. The Senator nodded, and beckoned for the children to follow him. Their Padawan leader looked to Ajax, who nodded. Kal invited the three clones into Aay'han. It had been a fairly quiet "rescued persons exchange," but all the people involved were going to places where they would fit in better.
Kal introduced the three soldiers Organa had taken in. "Phi, Omega, I want you to meet Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, and Captain Gregor."
Buckler shifted his sidearm. "How do we know we can trust them?" he asked, wary of his brothers. He felt betrayed, especially because of what had happened to Tracker.
The one in front, with blue markings on his armor, answered by taking off his helmet. "You see this scar?" he asked, gesturing to an inch-long cut on his temple. "If not for my brother Fives, you wouldn't be able to trust us." Rex still hated Commander Fox for shooting a good man like Fives. "His sacrifice taught us a lot about ourselves. The three of us removed our chips at his suggestion."
Buckler eased up. "I'm sorry. It's just that…" the thought trailed off for a moment. "...I lost a squadmate to his chip. If we'd heard.…" The thought that Tracker could have been saved was almost as bad as the fact that he hadn't stopped Ca'ad's bacta habit.
The three newcomers boarded Aay'han, making the hold even more crowded than it had been before.
"Ord'ika," Kal called, "close the hatch and get us out of here."
"Yes, Kal'buir," the ARC replied.
The boarding ramp flipped shut and Aay'han left Alderaan. The Jedi children would grow up there, always hunted by the Empire. They were part of the reason Tarkin would elect to destroy the planet nineteen years later.
1700 Hours, 1,090 Days ABG, Kyrimorut, Concord DawnAay'han landed in a discreet clearing near the Clan Skirata home, Kyrimorut. A small crowd stood there to greet the newcomers.
One person that caught Ajax's eye, though, was Rav Bralor, standing there in her black beskar'gam. "Sarge!" the clone sergeant yelled, rushing down the boarding ramp to greet Bralor.
Buckler and Ka'rta were close on his heels.
"Ajax," their old sergeant said, her affection obvious in her tone. She opened her arms for an embrace. She hugged each of the three. "Where's your fourth man?" she wondered. "I know what happened to Ca'ad, but HQ didn't assign you a new sniper?"
"No, they did," responded Ka'rta. "He complied with Order 66. We had to leave him behind."
"Were you thinking about going back for him?" Bralor asked.
Ajax gazed off into the distance, staring but not seeing anything. "We have to. We promised to get him here."
Ordo stepped over and revealed he had been eavesdropping. "Mereel and I are working on a comlink with Niner and Darman. They can get us the intel we need to pull off an op."
Ajax smiled. "For once, things are looking up."
Author's note:
I know this is my first note, so I'll make it quick. This chapter has been sitting at the bottom of my document as an outline for a few months now, and I'm very pleased with how it finally turned out. I've played with so many ideas for the final chapters, and I'm enjoying fleshing these out.
As this is my first work, I would appreciate some reviews. I see that a few of you are keeping close tabs on this story. I really liked seeing those first views the day after I published Part 5.
I would appreciate any suggestions you have for my next project, or if you'd like a Phi Squad sequel. There will be one more chapter, and maybe an epilogue. I already have that last chapter outlined, so it'll be here before spring. Well, at least spring in my hemisphere. RC-5280 out.