Slicer looked up as the door to his cell was opened and Prime stepped in. Slicer quickly wiped at his eyes, making sure he wasn't tearing up too badly. "So?" he asked. "What did they decide?"

"Don't worry about it. Stealth is coming back with help--"

"But did they decide?"

"Stealth will be here--"

"Sir?"

Prime sighed. "You're scheduled for reconditioning tomorrow."

Slicer's heart sank.

"But don't you dare give up hope, ner vod, we'll figure something out. We're not just going to let you die, alright?"

Slicer hung his head, feeling certain that his fate was sealed. "Would it help if I apologized?" he asked, not really feeling sorry, but willing to do anything to keep himself from being reconditioned.

Prime shook his head. "Apologies don't mean anything to these Kaminoans. All that matters to them is that you attacked him in the first place."

"Hey, he's the one--"

"I don't care. You know better."

Stealth popped in the door then, beads of sweat running down his face. "Got him," he said. Prime stepped out to see who had come to rescue Slicer.

Kal Skirata was standing just inches away from Orun Wa. "How many times, hm? How many times have I had to save one of these boys from your claws? I'm beginning to wonder who is the real enemy in this war!"

"Sir," the Kaminoan said timidly, clearly intimidated, "this is a fully grown unit--"

"Soldier. Do not use the word unit around me."

"This is a fully grown unit, and it can't be reinstructed. If there is a flaw now, you cannot simply raise it to follow your orders like you did with the Nulls."

"I don't need to retrain him. I'll keep an eye on him for a while and make sure he stays in line. That's all he needs."

"Sir, it would be much easier to just replace--"

"Haar'chak !" Kal exclaimed, slamming his fist down and shattering a glass bottle. "You can't replace him! He's their brother." He pointed to Stealth and Prime. "I don't expect you talyc Kaminii bas neralse to know anything about that. They're just units to you. But go look at him. Go into that room and look at how scared he is. He's just a ten year old boy who lost his temper. And you think you're going to kill him for that? He should be collecting bugs and tormenting girls. But you've accelerated his aging, and thrown him into the middle of a war. Does he even know what he's fighting for? Can you imagine what that would be like to a boy his age? I'm surprised you haven't had more outbursts like this. No, if anyone deserves reconditioning, it's you lot."

Prime and Stealth subtly bumped fists, watching Orun Wa squirm beneath Kal's steely glare.

---

Slicer was sitting in the corner with his knees hugged to his chest when the door opened. He looked up, expecting to see Orun Wa holding a needle with a lethal dose of some chemical in hand. Instead, he saw Kal Skirata.

"Sergeant Kal!" Slicer exclaimed, jumping to his feet, embarrassed that the man had seen him cowering in the corner. "Sir? What are you--"

"Came in here to save your hide," Kal said with a grin.

Skirata was pushed aside by Stealth, who burst in to the room and ran over to Slicer, grabbing his head and ruffing up his hair with his knuckles. "Oya, ner vod, they're letting you go!" Slicer wrestled out of Stealth's grip, looking stunned.

"Not exactly," Skirata said. "You're under probation... strict probation. I said I'd keep an eye on you for a while, so you do as I tell you with no arguments."

"Yessir!" Slicer said, giving him a quick salute. "Vor entye, ruus'alor."

"Ba'gedet'ye."

Stealth put his arm around Slicer's shoulder. "Come on, vod'ika, let's go get you dessert or something."

"Mess hall food?"

"Or some contraband sweets that Prime smuggled in." Stealth cast a nervous glance at Skirata. "Uh... I mean..."

Skirata smiled. "They won't hear it from me."