I do not own Star Wars.

"Oh… fierfek…"

Shades moaned and tightened his death grip on the rail. His body trembled. It felt like fever wasp larvae were hatching in his abdomen and feeding on his insides as they ate their way out of him. Sweat stung his eyes, and he squeezed them shut to stop the world rolling around him, but the sensation continued. He was certain he'd been shot by one of those solid projectiles that exploded on Impact. He was in agony.

Oh, Force, let me die. Just let it end.

"This is pathetic."

The uncaring voice emanated from somewhere behind him, dry with annoyance. Shades groaned, hoping to elicit some sympathy.

"You do realize that we're not even moving."

Obviously none was forthcoming. Shades let out a piteous whimper and immediately clamped his mouth shut as his guts fought to turn themselves inside-out.

" 'm dying," he moaned through clenched teeth.

"You're not dying; you're seasick. Which is surprising, considering that you grew up on Kamino, which is an ocean world, in case you've forgotten. What's even more amazing is the fact that you're puking your guts out on a sub that isn't moving. We've been drifting in more or less the same spot for two hours."

Shades groaned again and heaved over the side. He'd completely emptied his stomach hours ago. All he could do now was dry heave. And Fib could care less.

"You're a 'orible person," he mumbled. It was a battle of will just to get the words out.

"Don't even go there. I offered you a seasickness pill before we disembarked, but you didn't want it. I believe your exact words were Keep your kriffing pills to yourself. Now you're sick and it's your own stupid fault. I tried to help, but you wouldn't listen. So I hope you're happy, because I'm not going to heal you. Maybe you'll learn a lesson. I have no sympathy."

The distant sound of armored boots on metal made its way to Shades's ears, followed by the hollow thunk of a hatch opening and closing. He would have screamed in frustration if he'd dared to open his mouth.

Cracking an eye open, Shades squinted at the endless expanse of blue ocean that stretched out before him, its surface dotted with white caps and the upper casings of sixty-two Ubrikkian repulsersubs. The sun reflected brightly of its undulating surface from somewhere above and behind him. His eye snapped shut as his stomach churned urgently.

Anything but this. Anywhere but here.

The 501st legion had been dispatched to Mon Calamari two weeks ago to do some "peace keeping." In reality, they'd been sent to put some overly rebellious activists in line. Rumor had it that there were even some splinters of an infant rebel group calling itself the Rebel Alliance involved. But weather this was true or not was irrelevant. The Emperor had noticed the beginnings of unrest on the ocean world, and he wanted it stopped. And what the Emperor wanted, the Emperor got.

Shades didn't care. He would give anything to be anywhere else, doing anything else. He would have quite cheerfully stood eight hours of night watch over a garbage ship if would get him off this accursed water. In the back of his mind, Shades thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't been assigned to the galactic navy. He wasn't sure if someone could go insane from being constantly seasick, but he was certain that he would have managed it somehow.

Shades wasn't ever aware that someone else was on the sub's top casing until he was startled out of his misery by a dull metal clank as someone in armor sat down next to him.

"How are you doing?" The voice was soft, the tone punctuated by a gentle rolling of the r's. Shades could've picked Noble's voice out of a crowd if the man would ever talk loud enough to be heard in one.

"Terrible." It was said as a statement of fact.

Silence settled. That was usually how conversations went with Noble. A few words, then silence. Shades had figured out that, if he listened right, he could often learn more from the other clone's silences than from his words. He listened now, shifting his attention from his upset stomach to the man next to him. A small click of armor shifting against metal. The sound of Noble's helmet bumping against the back of his armor from where it hung on his belt. Deep, unhurried breathing. The softest of flutterings: a calm heartbeat. Shades felt his own pulse, exhilarated by stress, slow until it was in since with the other's.

Noble was calm, with that slight nervous edge that was common before any engagement. No… that wasn't quite right. Noble was always calm, at least on the surface. He rarely got riled. Shades's brows furrowed as he listened harder, seasickness completely forgotten.

Noble was calm, but it ran deeper than that. He was… at ease. He was at peace, with both himself and the world. That was a state that the shy clone rarely seemed to inhabit.

Shades opened both his eyes and studied the other's profile, the way the shadows etched the lines of his face and how the sunlight was caught in his eyelashes. His clean shaven head shimmered and the water cast strange, rippling shadows of light on his chin and throat. Something small caught Shades's eyes and drew his attention. A dimpled, scared area, just at the base of the other clone's skull.

He raised his hand, fingers extended to touch, when Noble abruptly turned his head to look at him. The sergeant hastily lowered his hand and curled his fingers around the rail. Noble's face bore its usual expression of calm thought, but his eyes swam with shadows. He held Shades's gaze for five heartbeats, and then turned to look out to sea.

"The Kaminoans were running some experiments." His voice was so soft that Shades had to strain to hear it over the sound of waves hitting the sub's casing. "They already knew what happened when they tinkered with the genes that controlled memory and intelligence before a clone was out of the gestation tank. They had the Nulls. But they wanted to know if any significant alterations could be made once a clone was developed physically. I don't know why they chose me, but they did. It was only once or twice a week. They'd pull me out of training and take me to one of the labs where they'd inject stuff into the back of my neck."

His fingers fluttered up to the small scar at the base of his skull in an unconscious movement, hovering over the impression, but not touching.

"Weird things started happening. I saw more, heard more, felt more. And I remembered it all. When we did navigation calculations in training, I could see numbers and symbols made of light hanging in the air. They showed me the problem, the steps to solve it, and the solution. It was exhilarating. But when I tried to tell my brothers…"

His voice faltered and he trailed off. Shades could see Noble's pain in his hunched shoulders and slightly bowed head. He could feel the rejection, a sharp knife blade trailing across his skin in the gentlest of caresses.

Noble made a sound like a strangled hiccup, then cleared his throat and continued. "My brothers thought I was losing my mind. I couldn't tell them about what the Kaminoans were doing; they'd ordered me to stay silent. My brothers stopped taking my advice in training exercises. They stopped including me in our downtime. Eventually…they stopped listening to me at all. So I stopped talking."

Shades stared at the other man now, sorrow and anger churning in his empty stomach. He understood all too well that feeling of loneliness and isolation.

If everything you said got ignored, then you became afraid of everyone. Eventually, you wouldn't even be able to speak, even knowing that all that did was bother people. Everything felt completely dark. Your heart shut down.

And your words died.

Shades understood completely. A brief image of a closed door and a raised fist filled his mind, followed by a memory of armored backs turning away from him. A bone deep chill settled over him. Shades couldn't swallow. His throat was sealed shut.

No one would listen. No one believed me; or they knew and they didn't care.

The old darkness that had haunted him back then reared its ugly head. But Shades was stronger than he had been. He was a different person, a better person, and he could fight this monster now and drive it back. He brandished his memories, wielding them like a lightsaber: the pride in Thorn's eyes, the reassurance in Fib's touch, the love in Edi's smile. Together they burned so brightly that the darkness fled, whimpering in fear, to hide somewhere far from their light.

But even as Shades banished the darkness of his long ago past, fresh tears rose in his throat and choked him. Edi…Thorn…

Eight months hadn't been long enough to banish his grief at their deaths. He wasn't certain which was worse: the fact that Edi was dead, or that Thorn wasn't.

He doubted he'd ever get over losing them. He didn't want to. But each day Shades found it a little easier to get up in the morning, a little easier to keep living. He wasn't recovering, only learning to live with a permanent debilitation.

But he always had Fib. As long as his brother was there, he could hold himself together and keep going.

His attention was draw back to Noble as the other shifted. His eyes had gone defocused as he stared off at the horizon. When he spoke, his voice was still quiet, but some of the tension had gone out of it.

"Things changed when Wiley was transferred to our training company. I don't know what he did to get transferred, but he was there. I'm glad he was. He didn't ignore me like the others, and he didn't care that I didn't talk. I think he just liked having someone to talk to that didn't try to interrupt. But it was good to have someone talk to me. It made me…happy. I know Wiley can be a bit of a jerk, but he's my best friend."

Shades understood that sentiment as well. He put a hand on Noble's armored shoulder. "I'm your friend, too."

Noble looked at him in surprise, as if he'd forgotten that Shades was there. He ducked his head as though he were embarrassed and gave the clone sergeant a small, shy smile. Shades smiled back, his seasickness completely gone.

He scrambled up, muscles stiff from two hours of crouching on hard metal. After a brief stretch, he looked down at the clone still seated at his feet and extended a hand. The other man hesitated, then took it gingerly before tightening his grip. Shades clasped Noble's hand—his brother's hand—and pulled him to his feet.

Once they were both up, Shades grinned and slapped the other good naturedly on the back. "Thanks for distracting me. It really helped. How about we go below and clean our DCs?"

Noble nodded. Another small smile curved his lips and sparkled in his eyes. He seemed to be standing straighter.

Just as he opened the hatch, the hairs rose on the back of Shades's neck as he heard a high-pitched whistle scream through the air. Missile, he thought, and a second later, Kriff.

He grabbed Noble's arm and yelled for him to run. They practically fell down the ladder and scrambled through the sub's cramped halls as emergency sirens began to blare around them and other clones struggled through the confined spaces to get to their emergency stations. Amongst the chaos, Shades could only wonder where the missile had come from.

Even over the blaring sirens, he could hear the projectile drop in pitch as it hurtled closer. The missile exploded on impact, sending out a shockwave that Shades felt ripple against his chest. Metal plating bucked and pipes burst. Shades fell to the deck, managing to catch himself on his forearms so he didn't do a face plant. Noble was tossed into a wall. Even before his senses cleared, Shades was struggling to his feet. A moment later, Noble tried to get up, but he only made it to his knees. He touched his left side and grimaced; the glove came away red.

"Shades…we have to…have to get out of here."

"Okay." Shades watched the stain rolling down Noble's armor. A stripe of carmine, growing, growing, growing…

Fib will know what to do.

"Can you run?" he asked.

Noble shook his head. Shades could see that he was having trouble breathing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He grabbed Noble's arm, pulling him into a rescue worker's carry. Noble gritted his teeth as the sergeant sprinted towards the medbay.

Rationally, Shades knew that the medbay was no safer than anywhere else on this death trap of a sub. But he wasn't thinking rationally. He was acting on instinct, one that ran deeper even than his years of training. Fib was in medbay, and wherever Fib was was safe.

In his single-minded concentration, Shades barely missed running down another clone who was trying to go through the same hatch that he was trying to use. It took him a second to recognize Wiley. He met Shades's eyes, then looked at the man draped across his back. His face went white. Without a word—an amazing occurrence, that—he stepped aside to let Shades through, then followed him at a run.

"Shab." Fib was at the entrance of the medbay, armored up and rifle loaded as Shades and Wiley ducked inside. "Put him here." The medic directed them to the sub's single operating table. "What happened?"

Shades was out of breath, barely managing to gasp, "…missile…hit and…Noble…"

"Help me get his armor off." Fib's voice broached no argument. This was his medbay, and in here, he was the highest authority.

Shades scrambled to help him while Wiley hung back, almost like he was afraid to come too close. On the table, Noble moaned through gritted teeth.

They sat him up long enough to remove his chest and back plates. Fib ripped off the black bodysuit and wiped away the blood that leaked from the split, raw flesh. He removed his gloves and inspected the wound, fingers barely goasting over the skin. Shades could see it easily from his position beside the medic. It was against Noble's left side, right up under his arm. Not good…

Fib grunted and rummaged in his medical bag before cursing eloquently and turning back to the clone on the table.

"There's a piece of shrapnel, and it's digging into your chest. I have to get it out, but I'm out of painkillers. It'll hurt, but I have to do this or it'll get worse."

Brown eyes stared in panic, breathing erratic, as Fib picked up a pair of long silver tweezers and rinsed them in disinfectant. Shades's heart stuttered at the idea of the pain that Noble was about to feel. He understood that Fib didn't want to use the Force more than necessary, but still…

"Shades, hold him down."

"…wait…" Noble wheezed, but Shades already had an armed fastened across his hip. He grabbed the other man's wrists and forced them over his head. Fib wasted no time in jabbing into the open pink flesh. Noble's muscles jerked as the sub jerked around them. He let out a chocked howl as the tweezers clutched the jagged edge of the shrapnel.

"Keep him quiet!" Fib hissed. Forgotten in the background, Wiley let out a strangled curse and pressed both hands to his own mouth, his body shaking.

Shades released the other clone's hip and clamped that hand to his mouth. Noble looked at him in fear, all dark eyes and angled shadows; he looked at him like he'd been betrayed. Leaning in close, Shades whispered to him over and over that it was going to be okay, and Noble cursed into the open palm. Fib worked the shrapnel loose with one last tug, tearing the lacerated skin on the way out. Shades immediately released the writhing body beneath him. Blood dribbled out in a steady flow, bubbling with each labored breath. Noble coughed, a dry hacking sound that filled the room now empty of the emergency siren, and then fell silent. Fib frowned and bent close to the wound, his hand skimming its surface.

"What's wrong?" Shades leaned over Noble, touching his cheek; he didn't move.

"His lung collapsed." Fib plunged into the drawer next to the operating table. "And we need a Heimlich valve or…or a chest tube, or we need…osik we don't have!"

"Fib, he's not breathing."

"I know!"

Shades couldn't banish his rising panic. "What do we do?" he whispered.

In the corner of the room, Wiley had slid to the floor, knees pressed tightly to his chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other hand still pressed to his mouth. His eyes were wide and swimming with tears.

What do we do?

Fib stood still, head lowered in thought. It jerked occasionally, like he was arguing with himself. His head shot up abruptly, his eyes smoldering.

"Vape it," he growled, lips pulling back into a snarl. "Vape it all."

He moved in a rush, shoving Shades off the table and taking his place, bending low over the unresponsive body. Taking a deep breath, he placed one palm flat on Noble's chest and the other over the wound under his arm. His eyes drifted shut and his head fell forward, hands pressing firmly into pale skin. His thumbs stroked it almost absently.

Shades moved back to stand next to Wiley. Fib had obviously decided that it was worth the risk of getting caught to Force heal Noble. Even as his stomach knotted in apprehension, Shades couldn't disagree. On the floor next to him, Wiley stared in utter confusion at the two clones on the table.

Shades's hands curled into fists at his sides. He didn't take his eyes off the two men.

Please, he thought. Please.

Noble couldn't die. Not now, just when Shades had found another brother. The thought of the quiet, kind man lying dead on a table was sickening. It wasn't fair.

With a suddenness that startled Shades, Noble gasped. It sounded like someone had forced air into a deflated bolo ball. Wiley jumped like someone had discharged a blaster behind him and pressed back into the wall. Noble's ragged breathing filled the small room.

As Shades watched, the ragged wound under Noble's arm began to close. The bleeding stopped. The skin seemed to crawl, then flow together over the hole. Color seeped back into Noble's cheeks, and he took one last shuddering breath before relaxing back onto the table, breathing steadily.

Fib sat back, slowly removing his hands. He was tired and pale, as though the color that now suffused Noble had been leeched from him.

Shades moved forward quickly to help Fib down from the table. The medic leaned against him, weak and exhausted from his efforts. Healing was draining; the majority of the energy required came from the healer himself.

Wiley rose slowly to his feet. His eyes darted between Fib and his friend resting peacefully on the operating table. The wound was completely gone, only trails of blood and a thin pink line remaining to show that it had ever existed. Wiley's tongue slid out, licking across dry lips. He didn't move to join the two clones holding each other by the operating table. He stayed where he was, forgotten in the relief and exhaustion of the moment.

Shades held tightly to Fib as his brother leaned against him, but he could feel his own muscles shaking as the adrenaline faded out of them. Relief crashed down on him, almost causing his knees to buckle. Fib had healed Noble, and he would live.

The medic turned his head where it rested on Shades's shoulder, lips brushing his ear, and whispered, "I want to go home now."

Shades couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy to see Coruscant. He didn't care that the planet's name had been changed to Imperial Center. It would always be Coruscant to him.

The city's night lights winked invitingly as the transport shuttle pulled up in front of the 501st barracks. Shades stumbled out, followed closely by Fib and Noble. Wiley stepped out last. He had a distracted look on his face, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"Food, shower, bed," Shades mumbled. "And not necessarily in that order."

"I'm going to bed," Fib declared. "I don't care if I stink. It can wait until morning."

A loud growl from Noble's stomach made Shades chuckle. "Food, I take it?" he asked his brother, grinning playfully.

Noble blushed and nodded.

He hadn't changed outwardly at all since the day that Fib had healed him, but he did seem more at ease around both Fib and Shades. And best of all, he didn't remember any of it. Shades wondered if it was natural memory loss due to trauma, or if Fib had done something with the Force. Either way, he decided, it was for the best.

As the three turned to follow the rest of Quasar into their section of the barracks, Wiley paused at the front entrance, then called after them, "I'll catch up. There's some stuff I need to take care of first."

Shades waved over his shoulder in acknowledgement, not really paying attention. He was too distracted by the enticing idea of a full stomach, a hot shower, and a soft bed. Once inside, Fib left for his room while Shades and Noble made a quick stop by the mess hall. Then Shades continued onto the showers while Noble stumbled off to their bunk room.

Shades groaned as hot water poured from the faucet, pounding against his sore back in a heavenly massage. He only stayed in the stall long enough to wash his hair and body. Sleep was pulling at his eyelids and making them heavy.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he was able to collapse onto his bunk and sink onto the mattress. The last thing he noticed before he sunk into the sweet oblivion of sleep was that Wiley's bunk was still empty.

The knock is soft, almost timid, but the tall dark figure notices all the same.

"Enter." The voice is deep and commanding, rising over the hiss of eternal mechanical breathing that fills the room.

The door slides open and a figure in armor enters. The whiteness of it is picked out brightly against the gloom of the chamber, like bleached bone on a dark canyon floor. The man moves forward to stand before the chair in which the pillar of shadow is seated. His own breathing cannot be heard over the relentless whisper of constantly recycled air.

"What is it, trooper?"

"Lord Vader." The armored man's voice is frightened, conflicted, yet full of eagerness. He inches closer to the chair and the darkness in it. "I have something to tell you."

I think this is my longest chapter so far. Please review.

mad'ika