Death

The kid's grown to be pretty tall.

ST-5052 felt like an idiot. Here he was, confronting a known aggressor against the Rep…Empire, standing between the Twi'lek and the landing platform which held his only means of escape, and pointing a blaster at him, for hells' sakes. But, instead of the justified satisfaction he was supposed to have at getting rid of this criminal, all he could feel was pride. And regret. And...

No. Not love. Never again.

Yet, there was something about the way the target held himself. His back was straight and his shoulders were squared, in a position that managed to look strong without being haughty. His expression was carefully neutral and paradoxically compassionate at the same time. His lekku, tattooed and wrapped lightly in traditional linen dressings in an attempt to conceal his identity, squirmed a little as his brown eyes flicked over the trooper's shoulder to look wistfully at the transport beyond. Still, he did not run, but gazed at the emotionless eyes of the detestable, unmarked new Phase II HUD evenly and without judgment. Almost like…

She's dead. You killed her. Just like you're going to kill him. Mission accomplished.

"Bly."

5052 started. Not…fair. That name no longer has any meaning…

"Bly, look at me."

The trooper found himself obeying, despite himself. Names had always been important for the kid. He spoke them rarely, and only when the beings to which they belonged broke through his considerably tough shell. When he did speak them, he pronounced them with reverence, like they were sacred. When he didn't, he remembered them. New members of the 327th who hadn't even met him yet had stared in consternation when, on the battlefield, he suddenly addressed them by their nickname, like a brother would.

5052 stared in the same confusion now as the target slowly retrieved an old and battered piece of flimsi from one fold of his head covering, then held it out, offering for him to take it.

"I tried to write them all down," the Twi'lek said, as 5052 hesitantly took the flimsi without taking his sights off of his target's forehead. "The list is complete up until Felucia. I'll let you fill in the blanks."

The HUD remained emotionless, impersonal, and detached. The man inside could feel the tears gathering in his eyes as he read the names – the names, not the numbers – of every brother felled after the kid joined the company on that mission to Ryloth, in strict chronological order.

He got them all. Every single one. Even I didn't know some of these names.

"You still say the remembrance?" the trooper asked, forcing the words out of a tight throat, which the cruel voice modulator failed to pick up on.

The kid nodded, somehow understanding his emotions anyway. Frakking Jedi magic.

An alarm in 5052's bucket reminded him of the progress of the rest of his unit, whom Ji…the target had managed to lose in a marketplace ten minutes ago. The maneuver had been so expertly done that only 5052, who had been separated from the rest but also knew this trick all too well, had been the only one to catch on to it. But it was still just a trick. It was only meant to gain time, and that time was starting to run out.

5052 swallowed. This mission had looked so easy on paper…

With a growl, he lowered his deece and took a quick step around the kid, shoving the flimsi back into one green hand as he did so. "You fill in the blanks," he muttered.

Then, he went down on one knee, aiming his blaster at the end of the alleyway, where his brothers would make their entrance any moment.

That was supposed to be the end of the conversation, but the kid did not leave right away. There was a stir of motion that filtered through the bucket's sound amplifiers, and a hand came down gently on his shoulder.

"Come with us."

"No. Hurry up and leave."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the clipped voices coming in through the comm. He suspected the kid wanted him to turn around, but he wouldn't. His decision was made.

"She forgave you, you know. Even before she…"

"I know she did. I didn't. Get moving."

The hand retracted. Kid always did respect the command voice. Footsteps that were Jedi-soft rang out in the direction of the transport. He could have sworn he heard a faint, whispered "good-bye," but he didn't let himself dwell on it.

Clone Commander Bly settled calmly into his position, and waited.

Jinx sat at the controls of the old transport, his eyes closed in meditation. He looked at his heart, listening to the thrum of each and every little string that connected it to someone else. So very many were silent, now; none of them were ever truly severed, but the strings could not sing their song without a beating heart to pull on them. Now another heart was silenced, its string leading off into whatever was in store for it on the other side.

With a steady hand, he opened the beaten little scrap of flimsi and carefully inscribed one more name.

The hyperdrive alarm sounded, indicating his arrival at the Belsavis system. The double suns were just ahead, illuminating the cockpit softly from their distance of just a couple of parsecs. Not quite a sunrise, but it was good enough.

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. Ryma gesu'tak allesh, nerra'pika. Arni'soyacho."

The Twi'leki translates roughly to: "Mother (the Twi'lek goddess) give you safety, dear brother. I thank you with all of my heart." The source is a Twi'lek lexicon and dictionary linked on Wookieepedia.