Chapter Twenty: The Old Lie
1089 days ABG
"Is that someone's comm?" Crest lifted his head at the sudden, insistent chirping sound. The room, which had been bright with the laughter of the clones, quieted in an instant.
Traxis looked at Weave and the medic nodded. "I think it's mine..." He stood and made his way to the area where he'd stacked their armor and pulled out his vambrace.
Haven't even checked in with the GAR, Traxis thought with a flash of guilt. I wonder if they're calling to tell us we're all getting court-martials...or worse. Guess that's that. Though I don't see how; Kalinda told the Jedi we were taking some time to recuperate after the rescue, and it's only been a week...
Weave frowned. "Emergency transmission, secure channel, but...no, that can't be right."
"What?" Traxis asked, his own musings forgotten at the odd tone of his brother's voice.
The medic frowned again and scratched his head absently. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, it looks like a Separatist code." Traxis and Crest exchanged glances then looked back at Weave.
"A Seppie code?" Risky glared at the comlink as though it were about to spring to life. Keo and Finn frowned but said nothing. Drake tilted his head and knitted his brows.
"Well...what are you waiting for?" Crest said, waving his hand. "Let's hear it." The tension in the room was palpable; Traxis thought he could hear someone's heartbeat very loud in his ears and his stomach was doing an uncomfortable dance in his gut. However, he shook off the feelings and listened.
"Execute Order 66."
For several seconds, no one moved or spoke.
Until Crest swore.
This seemed to jolt the others into motion and Weave looked at Traxis, his brows lifted over wide, almost panicked eyes. "We need to find Stonewall."
At this, Drake stood up. "I'll go." The other boys looked at him but he ignored them as he watched Weave nod; he slipped out of the room in the next moment.
Traxis felt a wave of nausea pass through him, as if his body was physically rebelling against its own inaction. I can't remember learning that one, but I know it. I know what I'm supposed to do. There were no Jedi around, so Trax had a moment to think rather than react. It can't be true...the Jedi, traitors to the Republic? He tried to imagine Kalinda or the little Nautolan girl in such a position, but couldn't picture such a thing. I can't believe it. After everything I've experienced, after everything I've seen of the galaxy and of the Jedi...it's wrong. This order is wrong. I don't know what's going on, but I do know that I can't – I won't – be someone's pawn any more, especially not for something like this.
Traxis looked at the boys. But them? What will they think? "Do you know what that means, ad'ike?"
They were all sitting arrow-straight, their faces turned to the adult clones but Traxis could see that their attentions were inward, debating. That's good. Questioning is a good start. He tried not to laugh at the idea; there was no way he could have managed something like that – disobeying a direct order – at that stage of development. But they've been through more than any others at their age that I know of.
Risky nodded, as did the others, except Levy, whose expression was neutral. The first boy frowned. "The Jedi are traitors and we're to eliminate them." He said the words without inflection, as if he was speaking of what he'd eaten for lunch and the others nodded again, the movement was almost in unison.
The elder clones exchanged glances and didn't need the Force to share their thoughts. We have to be very, very careful.
To start them off, Crest cleared his throat and spoke in his most genial tone, as if he were on the verge of sharing a joke, but hadn't quite worked out how he was going to phrase the punchline. "That's what the order says, but is that really the case?" At the boys' look of confusion he elaborated. "Orders aren't always right."
"But..." It was Finn, who shook his head, his face drawn into a frown. "But they are. They're orders. We have to follow. We don't have a choice."
Keo nodded and looked around. "There are Jedi on this ship...are we going to...?" His fingers twitched as if reaching for a blaster and Traxis grimaced.
No kriffing way I'm letting them go on like this. He rose and moved before them, resting on his knees and meeting each of their eyes in turn, noting how they clustered together and seemed to take a collective step away from him, uncertainty evident on their faces. "I want you to listen," he began, keeping his voice calm and even. "Most orders are in place to protect us and to allow us to do our jobs. Most. But there are some orders that you shouldn't follow, because they're wrong." Their expressions were blank and he bit back his frustration with Kamino, the Republic, and the army in order to focus on the four boys sitting before him.
But before he could speak again, Risky shook his head. "That's treason, Traxis." His tone had grown deadly serious and Traxis could hear his own earlier doubts echoed in the lad's words.
He felt Weave come beside him and heard his brother's voice a moment later. "You are more than your ability to follow orders. You are individuals, with freedoms and rights and the ability to choose. Traxis, Crest and I...we've all chosen to leave the GAR and make sure that you don't come to any harm. You chose to remain here and not go back to Kamino, just like Milo chose to return to the Core with the Jedi."
Even as Weave said these words, Traxis felt agitation pierce him. Kalinda and Zara...Milo. Even General Tallis. Are they all dead? Would Milo...? He frowned. No. No, he would never. But it was a disturbing thought nonetheless.
Weave had taken a moment to pause and let his words sink in. This wasn't flash-training; this lesson was not one you could learn by route or memorization. "We are all individuals. If you learn nothing else from this moment, I want you all to know that you have a choice, and that each choice you make determines what kind of people you are. What kind of men you'll be."
The boys were silent as they looked at one another, still standing apart from the adult clones; Traxis could see the debate in their eyes, and part of his brain reluctantly considered what he would have to do if they decided to try and kill the Jedi on the Chu'unthor. Restrain them. Get them off the shabla ship, somehow, until we can knock some sense into them. But I hope it won't come to that. They're just boys...they don't understand. Fierfek...I've only recently begun to understand. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, trying to determine what else he could say that would counter-act a lifetime of conditioning. He shot Weave a glance and noted that his frustration was mirrored in the medic's face.
Suddenly, Levy shook his head and stepped forward, moving to stand beside Weave. He gave the others a knowing look and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt that revealed his implant before putting his hand on Weave's shoulder and standing at a modified parade rest. I'm with them. It wouldn't have been any more clear if he'd shouted the words. This action – more than anything else – seemed to convince the boys; they glanced at one another again before coming forward. Risky was frowning and shaking his head while Keo and Finn seemed reluctant to move away from each other.
Traxis felt his shoulders relax. "You won't regret it, ad'ike." He gave the lads a smile, which they returned with caution. There was still debate in their eyes, but he could see that their brother's action had made an impact. None too soon, either. I'll wager things are going to get crazy...again.
"Stonewall?"
His eyes were closed but he could still see her body lying beneath the feet of his brothers, her skin scorched with blaster-fire and her eyes empty. No...no, it can't be. Milo would never do such a thing.
"Stonewall."
It was as if a fly was buzzing in his ear and he swatted it away, engrossed in his own thoughts. But he wanted a promotion. He wanted a new life, a different life and she said his name as if...what if he did? What if he killed her? And I sent them off together. I may as well have pulled the trigger myself. It was growing difficult to breathe and his chest was tight; his heart was beating against the cage of his body like some wild thing, desperate to be released.
There was a sudden slap of pain against the side of his face and he glanced up, stunned, to see Master Altis looking at him. "At last." The Jedi's voice was calm, but Stone could see in the elder man's eyes that things were as bad as he thought. Altis nodded to the comlink in the captain's grip. "What exactly did that mean?"
Stonewall swallowed. I have to calm down. I'm no use to anyone if I'm a wreck. "Contingency order, in case of a Jedi...uprising or rebellion against the Republic. I don't remember learning it, but that's how much of our training went." He shook his head. Action, not words. "I need a ship."
But Altis had moved to the window, leaning against it for support even as he laid his hand over his heart; his eyes were closing as if someone was shrieking in his ear. Stone moved to help the elder man, who seemed – in that moment – fragile as glass. "All of them," he whispered, staring out at the stars. "The others..." His eyes closed for a moment before he took a breath and looked at Stonewall. Without another word the two men turned and hurried to the turbolift. When the doors opened, they were greeted by Drake, who looked panicked.
"Stonewall..."
Stone took his arm. "I know, ad'ika." The men stepped aboard the lift and a chilling thought occurred to the former captain. "Your brothers?"
Drake swallowed. "I left as soon as Weave got the message." His eyes were tight and he shot Altis a nervous glance; Stonewall noticed that he showed no hostility at all towards the Jedi, but he wondered if it would be so for the other boys. After a moment Drake spoke in a small voice. "Do you know if Kalinda or...the others are okay?"
"I hope they are," Stonewall replied. It was all he could bring himself to say. When they reached the infirmary, he looked at Altis. "I think it will be fine," he said. "But you should stay away for a moment until I know it's safe."
The Jedi Master took a breath and nodded. "I must see to some other matters, anyway," he replied. "Contact me when..."
"I will." The captain waited until the elder man was out of sight before activating the door. Inside, his brothers were in a flurry; gathering armor and other equipment that had found its way into the infirmary and speaking in harried sentences to one another. However, the moment that Stonewall and Drake entered the room, the motion halted.
Weave looked pale. "Is she...?"
"I don't know." Stonewall took a breath; he was shaking. "I can't tell."
"What the crink is going on?" Crest said. Seated on the edge of the bed, he'd already begun replacing his armor. "The kriffing HoloNet's useless right now." Indeed, someone had pulled up the most recent broadcast, which was some banal story about a pod-race.
Stonewall took a breath. "We're going on a rescue mission, but first we need information and we need a ship." He did not want to think about the fact that Kali might not be alive; it was necessary not to think that way if he wanted to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
"I think there are some on the Chu'unthor, but Ares would know for sure." Traxis' voice was hesitant.
But Stonewall had no time for hesitation. "Will you call him?"
In response, Trax pressed his palm to the button on the edge of Crest's bed that would summon the medical assistant. Several minutes later the Twi'lek hurried in the room, his face drawn. He looked around at the clones before his eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why aren't you watching the news?" Even as he said the words he moved to the station and activated the vid-screen.
"There's nothing there but..." Crest trailed off as a familiar figure appeared on the screen. "Is that the Chancellor? What happened to his face?" Traxis shushed him as they listened.
"The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire...the clone troopers, now proudly wearing the name of Imperial Stormtroopers, have tackled the dangerous work of fighting our enemies on the front lines. Many have died in their devotion to the Empire. Imperial citizens would do well to remember their example..."
They listened in silence as the sounds of thunderous applause filled the room before Ares shut down the transmission. No one spoke for several minutes. Finally Crest shook his head. "Galactic Empire? Stormtroopers? Jedi rebellion...it's too surreal. It can't be true." He didn't sound convinced.
"That order came from the Chancellor," Weave added, shaking his head as well. "To act in the best interests of the Republic. But there is no Republic anymore." His voice wavered and grew softer. "There's an Empire."
When Traxis spoke, his words were edged with fury. "It's a bunch of shabla lies is what it is...the Jedi rebelling against the Republic?" He snorted. "Please. What I want to know is: how did he manage to stop the Seps so quickly after our brothers have been dying by the thousands for three kriffing years, and haven't managed to put a dent in them?" At his words, the clone boys' eyes grew wide as they exchanged looks with one another.
"I don't know, Trax. I'm not sure anyone does right now." Stonewall swallowed and looked at Ares. "All I do know is that we need a ship. Does the Chu'unthor have one that can be spared?"
The Twi'lek shook his head. "Most of them were taken by Master Altis' students on their various missions, but..." He trailed off and gave a faint but crooked smile. "I have one: a Maka-Eekai, L-series."
Crest gaped at him. "Why does a medical assistant have a fancy transport like that?"
"Wasn't always in this line of work," Ares replied with a shrug.
"Can we use it?" There was a flare of apprehension from the scarred clone at the words.
The Twi'lek lifted a brow. "It should be big enough for the five of us. It will take a few minutes to get her prepped, but she's fast." He looked at Stonewall, who inhaled and nodded.
It's not a plan, but it's a start. One step at at time.
His mouth opened to reply, but it was Drake who spoke next. "Six." At the collective look from the adults he frowned. "Don't leave me behind. Please."
"Make that nine," Finn added, nodding to his brothers. Levy frowned at him and Finn sighed. "Ten."
Traxis and Weave has started shaking their heads the moment Drake had spoken. "No. Absolutely not," Weave said. "It's far too dangerous..."
"But you just told us how much the Jedi – Kalinda – risked to save us," Risky replied. "And now you say we should sit around here like scared little gullipuds?" He shook his head and crossed his arms before him. Behind the young clone, Keo and Finn did the same thing. "We've made our choice."
All eyes turned to Stonewall. The longer we debate, the smaller our chances of finding Kali and the others grow. But they're just lads...he took a deep breath and looked at Drake, who met his gaze with an almost eerie calm. Finally he nodded. "Fine. But you will do exactly as you are told, is that clear?" The boys saluted in unison and he sighed again.
"How's the armor coming?"
Weave looked up from his seat as the captain approached him, the others were in a flurry of activity; Traxis and Ares, accompanied by Risky, Finn and Keo had gone to prep the Twi'lek's ship, the Stark Raven. He gestured to the pile of plastoid surrounding him, a helmet in his lap. "Getting there. I'm afraid that yours and Crest's are still in pretty bad shape." Not too resilient under fire in more ways than one, I guess. "The good news is that I've just about got our HUDs working..." He popped the circuit-board in its place and snapped in the protective seal within the helmet. "Now, let's see..."
He slipped the helmet on his head and activated the HUD. Without the rest of his armor, it pretty much served one purpose: to provide a steady stream of information. A few specific blinks brought up the most recent collected intel on the GAR's vast network and Weave was silent for several minutes while Crest and Stonewall watched him. At first it was the usual: stats on the most recent battles, casualties versus losses, the latest technology updates and the like.
"Well?" Crest's voice was anxious but Weave raised his hand in a gesture calling for patience.
After a few more moments he was able to find out something useful, but it brought him no comfort. "Oh..."
It was Stonewall who spoke now. "Weave?"
He swallowed. Jedi...dead. So many of them. It was a stream of names, a steady flow that did not ebb but only grew faster with each moment and he was actually thankful for his implant, as it allowed him to absorb the information with perfect accuracy despite the speed at which the text was passing. Some of the names he recognized, but he did not see the three that he was searching for, which made some of the nervousness leave him.
The list of dead Jedi had ended and he was about to lift the bucket off of his head when another series of names caught his eye. Known Jedi Collaborators...
"Weave." Stonewall's voice was sharper than it had been in some time but the medic only swore under his breath.
It wasn't a long list, not like with the Jedi, but he saw several names – or numbers, rather – that he recognized all-too-well. How can this be possible? It was just a bunch of gossip about Kalinda and the captain...how did a silly rumor become intel? His heart had started that uncomfortable thudding sensation that had become far-too common of late.
Suddenly, he felt someone slap the outside of the bucket, causing a brief but painful rap against his head. When he lifted the helmet, the captain was staring at him in a way that he had never before seen. "I swear on all that's holy, if you don't tell me..."
Weave lifted his hand and smoothed the twin strips of hair on his skull. "Kalinda's not on the list of Jedi that have been reported killed," he replied. "Nor are General Tallis and Zara; all three of them are still classified as being 'at large.'"
Stonewall 's shoulders relaxed a fraction, though he still gave his brother an appraising look. "What else?"
It should not have been unexpected, but he couldn't help feeling betrayed. I don't know why I feel this way. I was ready to leave on my own, anyway. Maybe a long time ago. "Our names and numbers," he said, looking at the others. "We're all on the list of 'known Jedi collaborators,' and are thereby wanted for treason."
Silence.
Then Stonewall spoke. "All of us?" His eyes flicked to Drake, who had remained in the room.
Weave winced and nodded. "The lads too, but I'm not sure why. All I do know is that Kalinda reported that we'd rescued them to the Jedi Council, remember?"
"Crest and I were unconscious for most of that time."
The medic sighed. "Well, she did. They must have alerted the GAR immediately..." He rubbed at his forehead and stared at the bucket as if it would contain a magic solution. There was more silence for a long while as the three men mulled things over. At one point, Levy approached Weave and reached for the bucket; absently, he handed it to him, watching as the lad put it over his own head. It was a comical sight, but no one so much as chuckled.
Finally Stonewall shook his head. "That won't do. Not so much for us but for them." He indicated Drake, who was watching Levy with interest.
Weave nodded. "I agree, but what can we do about it? The minute we show our faces – or our codes pop up, I guess – we're cannon fodder." He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to decide if their situation qualified as ironic.
"Now would be a good time to be able to disappear," Crest added with a sigh. "Just poof." He lifted his hand and spread his fist as he made the sound.
Something about the idea made Weave pause; his entire body went still as he considered his brother's words. If we could disappear, if we could vanish from their database, we might be in the clear...at the end of the day, all the army has is its intel. An organization that big can't be expected to keep up with everyone on a personal level.
"What is it?" Stonewall's voice started him out of his reverie.
"Crest actually has the right idea," Weave said slowly, noting how the bald clone grinned. "Though I don't think it will be as easy as poof. If we can slice into the GAR databank and delete our names...well, it won't matter so much, will it? It'd be one less thing to worry about, at least."
Stonewall nodded, although he didn't look entirely convinced. "That's a pretty big 'if,' vod. And even if we manage it, there's still the matter of our very recognizable faces."
"Or face," Crest corrected in a wry voice.
Reaching forward, Weave plucked his helmet off of Levy, who looked affronted. "I say we take things one step at a time and worry about our appearances later."
"You can do it?" Stonewall asked.
Weave nodded. "Yeah, but not from a bucket. To access data like that you'd need to hit a hub, like at one of the outposts. Once I got to one, I could do it. I think." He tried to sound confident.
"Well, I don't see that we have much of a choice, especially if they haven't...found her yet." Stonewall frowned and his eyes were distant; it was clear he was desperate to reach Kalinda, but Weave knew that the captain understood the repercussions of this decision.
But it doesn't mean it's so simple for him. Any more delay might mean...He swallowed."Stonewall, if we do pull this off...it will make all of our lives easier, in the end."
Crest sat up. "Toss me a 'pad. I'll find the nearest hub. We can go from there." He caught the device that Stonewall absently sent him with the Force and began his search, snickering as he did so. "We should erase everyone's names...that'd really confuse things."
Weave looked at the captain. "I wish I could, but something like that – a memory-wipe on that scale – well, it probably wouldn't matter in the end. A database that large is backed up regularly in case of power-failure or something. If I wiped the whole thing, chances are it'd be restored immediately. However, chances are that no one will notice if a few of our numbers go missing." It was a painful thought, as he realized that they'd be potentially sentencing others to their deaths, but it was necessary. The safety of the boys comes first...we can't afford to let them down, not after all they've been through. But still. Weave didn't like it. Maybe I can come up with a virus or something...anything to slow them down, even if it's only for a little while.
Them. He frowned at this thought. Us and them. It didn't used to be that way. I guess everything really does change, in the end.
He was interrupted from further musings as the captain spoke again."We'll figure it out." Stonewall looked at Crest, who was still scrolling through his datapad. "Any luck on that outpost?"
The bald clone tilted the 'pad so that the captain could see. "Galaris. About nine hours from our position here. Not too far away, at least." He looked up. "So...how do you propose we go about this nonsense?"
The captain lifted his brow. "I have a few ideas."
"You're going to use the Force, aren't you?"
Stonewall gave a dangerous grin. "Very likely."
Few things:
The chapter title is from the poem that I mentioned before: "Dulce Et Decorum Est," by Wilifred Owen. The Chancellor's speech is taken from "The Declaration of a New Order," listed in the previous chapter.
Let me know how you liked the way that the cadets reacted to the order; I was unsure of how that came out. Your thoughts and comments are always welcome.
Many thanks to sachariah for his "tech" advice!