Thrasher blinked against the harsh light and took the proffered seat. His clone advisor shook his head wearily and pointed to the Kaminoan security detail.

"I'd like a word alone with him."

The guards regarded him contemptively for a moment, then bowed and exited the room, heads aloof. When the door slid shut, the advisor exhaled sharply.

"Echo 32, of all the exercises, why'd you have to FUBAR this one? For the sake of the Sith! We had the roddering General present overseeing the operation!"

Thrasher swallowed hard and stood. "Sir, I was not about to let that man die. If we lose men in a training exercise, how many more would we lose in a warzone? The General be screwed! If he really cared, he could come join us on one of our ops."

"Sit down, soldier." The advisor shoved him roughly into his seat. We our shipping out in five days. If it weren't for that, you'd have a hole in your chest for disobeying a direct order."

Thrasher's hands balled into fists as he struggled to maintain a calm demeanor. "Next time you feel like giving that order, go tell the man who got shot. See if he finds it acceptable."

The advisor halted mid-stride. With a resigned sigh he punched the code for the door. "I hope that I will not have to, 32. Believe me, I hope I don't."

The Kaminoan guards reentered the room, carrying a small, handheld device that Thrasher recognized instantly. Valttech Interrogator, model 34. His gut ran cold as the Kaminoan officers strapped restraining straps around his arms, legs, and chest.

The first Kaminoan uncapped the device. "This will give you a reminder to obey orders next time."

The pain was unbearable.

The gunship felt familiar under his feet as Thrasher boarded the craft. His teammates checked and rechecked their gear as they waited for the go code.

Echo 85, Keith, patted Thrasher on the back as they settled in. "Thought you'd come back. Cable bet me that the Kaminoans would shoot you. I'm pretty sure that he didn't believe that they'd shoot you, though."

Thrasher laughed and kicked Cable in the leg. "Thanks for the support, 45. It's nice to know that I'm missed…" His voice trailed off as a fifth person entered the gun ship.

Clad in hardened leather armor covered over by the customary robes of the Jedi, Aayla Secura cut an impressive and dangerous figure. She brushed past the clones and leaned across the barrier separating the cockpit from the crew deck.

"Is everything ready?"

The pilot shook his head affirmatively and returned his attention to the console before him. Aayla shrugged and glided over to the seat beside Thrasher. As she sat down, she turned to him and said, "Echo 32." It was a statement, not a question. Thrasher guessed that she had already been briefed about them.

"Yes, General?"

She paused uncertainly, as if his response had caught her off guard.

"Take your helmet off."

"Yes General." With a quick flick of his wrist he unsnapped the helmet restraints and placed the helmet on his lap. The scars from his disciplinary requirements still glowed pink along his throat. He coughed uncomfortably and leaned back, trying to conceal the scars in the shadows.

Aayla seemed unfazed by the scars. She chuckled softly to herself and waved her hand over his throat. To Thrasher's amazement, the scars faded from his throat, leaving a fresh layer of untouched skin. He swallowed hard and rubbed his throat in disbelief.

"Thank you, General."

"No problem." She wrapped her lekku around her neck and smiled at the four commandos. "Are you ready for this?"

Cable piped up before the others, responding cheerfully. "Yes we are, General. We've trained for this for months on end."

She hung her head for a moment, and then lifted it, staring Cable right in the eye. "Are you really ready for this?"

Cable fumbled for a reply, flustered that his answer hadn't been right. "Well, we…"

"Stop saying we. I'm asking about you all individually."

Her statement caught the whole squad off guard. The stunned commandos stared at her blankly, not comprehending what she had said.

Thrasher felt that the situation could turn embarrassing for the Jedi, so he cut in before the others. "I'm ready for this. Those clankers want a fight, and, by heck, I'm ready to give them one."

Aayla faced him, recognition dawning on her face. "You're the clone that disobeyed orders to leave his wounded comrade behind, aren't you?"

She stopped his reply with a wave of her hand. "Never mind. That doesn't matter. Loyalty like that should be praised, even if it was a daring, foolhardy maneuver. You would have taken a round to the chest if I hadn't diverted it."

Klick gasped in awe. "So you did that. That scared the crap out of me, that blaster changing course in mid air. I thought I was seeing things."

The gun ship doors slammed shut, blocking out the outside world. A feeling of vertigo encompassed Thrasher's stomach as the shuttle left the hangar. He put his helmet back on and pointed to his teammates.

"Check your weapons one last time. We've got a lot of unknowns on this one."

Aayla gave Thrasher a smug smile as he offered her an airsickness pill.

"Thank you, but I'll be fine. Just take care of your own men."

Keith punched Thrasher lightly on the shoulder. "Time for the last-second review, boss."

Thrasher punched him back and placed a holopad projector on the floor. Schematics of the grounded CIS cruiser played out before the team's visors.

"We insert via rope into this canyon here." A small, narrow canyon popped up on screen. "While the 2nd Division battles around that area, we sneak by into the core ship. Intel says that this ship had a massive engine failure, so we won't have to worry about it leaving while we're on it. We'll sabotage critical structures and gather any intel available. Then we get out any way possible. Any questions?"

Cable raised his hand playfully. "Sir, do we get any heavy support? Say, a squadron of AT-TE's at our beck and call?"

Aayla rose and grasped the overhead handle bar. "You guys get me. I'm coming in because this op needs some brains."

Klick and Keith poked Cable, laughing at him. His indignant expression was visible underneath the near pitch black visor as Aayla winked at him.

"And you need a good comedian."

"30 seconds!" The pilot sounded a tad nervous as he called over the comm. "There's some pretty heavy resistance down there. Good Luck."

Thrasher slapped an ammo pack into his DC17 and gripped his handle nervously. The usual odd feeling accompanying pre-mission jitters had increased substantially over the past five minutes. He willed his lunch to settle down. It is going to be a long day.

The pilot's voice disrupted his thoughts. "We're over the LZ. May the Force be with you."

The commandos kicked their drop-ropes over the edge and slid down to the battle-strewn floor. Blaster fire hedged them in from all sides as the commandos hastened to set up a make-shift perimeter. Once all of the opposition had been cleared, Aayla hopped off of the gun ship and floated down beside the commandos.

"Report."

Thrasher saluted and pointed off down the canyon. "No enemy resistance encountered towards our objective yet. Recommend we head out now."

"Negative, 32." Echo Squad's advisor commandeered his commlink, announcing out loud, "Delta Squad has already reached your objective. Proceed to the 2nd Division command post for further orders."

"That figures." Keith swore as the red sand clogged his respirator. "Those Delta's were always the star pupils. Oh well, I can live with babysitting duty."

Aayla silenced further discussion with an imperious wave. "Shut up and move, 85. Division HQ is four kilometers away. That makes about an hour of combat." She started off in the direction of the HQ, leaving the commandos behind. Cable shook his head and trotted after her, calling out behind him.

"Nice leader, we've got. I suggest you guys catch up or she'll eat you."

Thrasher frowned under his visor and started off after them, scanning the sky for targets. Everything appeared clear until he rounded the corner. Stopping in his tracks, he gaped at the massive battle unfolding before them on the plains of Geonosis.

Thousands of clones and droids pressed against each other, battling desperately for dominance on the field. Scattered explosions dotted the field, giving it an orange glow. As Thrasher viewed the eerie scene, his teammates caught up. They all stopped and took a moment to pay their respects to their fallen brothers.

Aayla Secura slid up beside them. "Beautiful, in an odd sort of way. This picture is something that you will need to remember when this war drags on. These men are sacrificing their lives for untold peoples."

Thrasher nodded solemnly in agreement. A tear slipped out of his eye, blurring his visor. He shook his head roughly and turned to his team. "Come on, commandos. We have a job to do."

The men slowly tore their gaze from the tableau and followed him down the steep path to the valley floor. All semblance of peace shattered as they reached ground-zero. The ground was carpeted with the dead and dying clones that had fallen under Separatist guns. Aayla shuddered and picked her way through the mass of dead, carefully avoiding the dead men.

Cable sidled up by Thrasher and pointed to the sky. "They've got anti-air turrets over there. That must be what's holding up our air force. Well, that and the millions of droids facing them."

Thrasher laughed humorlessly and reached down to close the eyes of a dead, helmetless clone. "From what Intel said, I'm not surprised. They have a huge cluster of core ships over there."

The advisor popped onto the comm channel, muting all other voices. "Change of plan, Echo 32. We have a downed gun ship just over that ridge to your left. See if you can rescue the crew. Out."

Thrasher sighed and shouted out to Aayla, who was a few meters ahead.

"General, our objective has changed. Go on ahead. We'll be along shortly."

Aayla waved to them and picked up her pace. As the commandos watched her depart, Keith shouldered a fallen rocket launcher.

"Do I look good with this or what?"

Thrasher chuckled and started off towards the ridge. "You'll look a lot better firing it, 85."

Thrasher crouched down behind a boulder as he surveyed the scene. What was left of the crew and passengers had formed a static perimeter around the crashed gun ship. Unfortunately, only three of the men were well enough to actively move from location to location, vastly reducing the clones' firepower. To make matters worse, battle droids were advancing from all sides, peppering their position with a constant stream of plasma.

Thrasher signaled to his team and drew a hasty outline in the sand. "Right, here's the plan. 31 and 85 will provide suppressive fire from up here. Once you've used up your ammo, come on down and join the party. 45 and I will prepare a doormat for you."

The three commandos saluted and took cover behind various boulders. Thrasher waited for the droids to get in range, then he whispered over the comm link, "Light them up!"

Thrasher and Cable sprinted down the slopes, half-sliding and half-jumping. Sniper and rocket round store past their heads, finding targets among the clumped droid ranks. The clones looked on in astonishment as the commandos hit the ground and rolled into upright positions, blasters hosing down the droids with unerring accuracy. As the last droid fell, the ranking clone saluted and extended his hand.

"Thank you, sir. I thought they had us."

Thrasher waved off the thanks and pointed to the wounded.

"Can they walk? We need to get them out now."

The clone shook his head. Pain and sorrow filled his voice. "No, sir. They are all paralyzed from the crash. We tried to contact HQ, but they had their hands full. Can you help?" Hope crept into his voice, despite the training he had gone through.

Keith patted the man on the back. "Of course we'll help. What are commandos for?" He sauntered over to the nearest wounded man. "Where are you hit, soldier?"

The man groaned and indicated his back. His voice was strained as he spoke, as if he was holding in a scream. "My back's all torn up. A sonic round stripped the armor before the crash."

Klick commandeered Thrasher's comm link. "Sir, we need to move, like, right now. I've got a whole platoon in my scope. More are coming behind that one."

Thrasher swore under his breath and pointed to the three unscathed clones. "You, you, and you help Echo 31. Keep our backs covered."

The clones nodded and rushed to assume positions around the lone commando. As they passed Keith, he stopped one and handed him the rocket launcher.

"This will help a bit."

The clone hesitated. "But sir, I didn't qualify to use this in training."

"It's a freaking rocket launcher. Aim for the middle of the group and pull the trigger!" Keith sighed and looked at Thrasher. On a private comm channel he said, "Can you believe this guy?"

Thrasher shook his head and silenced further banter. He shouldered an injured clone and designated three other wounded men. "Let's get these guys out of here."

The commandos hefted the men with the ease of a grown man lifting a toddler. "Roger, chief."

One clone had been left out. He scrambled to his feet and walked unsteadily over to them. His legs gave out at Thrasher's feet, and he fell hard to the ground.

"Sir, don't leave me! I don't want to get caught by those bugs. Please, take me with you!"

Thrasher held the man at arms length, glancing nervously at the incoming droids. Stray blaster rounds began to strike nearby rocks, showering them with white hot shards.

"At ease, soldier. We'll get you out. Follow us as best you can. Once I get these men over the ridge, I'll come back and pick you up."

The man sobbed uncontrollably as a spent round glanced of his armor. He clawed at Thrasher's retreating feet, desperately trying to catch up. As Thrasher struggled to scale the ridge, a flock of Geonosians appeared on top of the ridge. Sonic rounds fell thick and fast around the vulnerable clones, sending them scrambling for cover.

"Cable! Keith!" Thrasher switched the anti-armor attachment onto his rifle. "Grenades up!"

The commandos responded, launching a trio of high-velocity armor piercing grenades at the ridgeline. The evenly placed volley shattered the Geonosians' courage. They retreated, leaving half of their contingent behind.

Thrasher stood up slowly and surveyed the area. One of the wounded clones had taken a pair of the sonic rounds in the chest. His splintered armor hung loosely over his torn and contorted torso. Keith examined the clone for a moment and looked up at his team leader. After a slight pause he shook his head. The clone had died quickly and painlessly.

Thrasher felt anger build up under his armor. With an abrupt wave he ordered Keith to return and take the wounded clone following them. Keith snapped a quick salute and dashed down the slope to recover the defenseless clone trooper.

Together the commandos finished climbing the ridge and deposited the clones on the reverse slope. Thrasher bent down and planted a pick-up beacon on the ground and handed one of the clones his DC17.

"Stay here and wait for evac."

The clone saluted and scanned the sky patiently for friendly fliers. As Thrasher signaled the others to follow him back over the edge, the clone that had followed them tossed his DC15 to Thrasher. He caught it mid-stride and saluted the clone.

"Thank you, soldier. You've done well today."

The clone laughed mirthlessly. "Save your breath for the enemy. I failed my team."

Cable pulled Thrasher away and glanced down at the smoking crash site. "We've got a problem. Klick's been overrun."