Wow, it has been quite some time since I worked on this. I'm sorry for the delay life has been catching up with me. Thanks to all the reviewers for their kind words and all the readers for their patience.
Several of you have requested specific clone stories and I would like to honor those requests. That being said I'm not sure when I will have the time to do so. I also had a rather specific end point in mind for these pieces based around very specific phrases/concepts so expanding for new clones is going to take a good bit of thought on my part. We will see what I can do.
Anyway, enough talk on to the chapter.
Disclaimer: See ch. 1
Violence: the exercise or an instance of physical force, usually effecting or intended to effect injuries, destruction, etc.
Bly works hard to display his non-interest in politics or rectitude; his unswerving devotion to mission and Empire. He had slipped up once; the former SO commander had noticed. But he's been vigilant since. Every defense has a weak point; find it, reinforce it and move forward. Bly is fortunate that his weakness was easy to spot. All he had to do to shore himself up was blast away the ambiguity beneath a stained-glass canopy. He's rectified his deficiency. He tells himself that each time he wakes up with sweaty palms and her name a sob locked behind his teeth.