"I want those weapons back online, now! There's no telling when the Separatists will be back," Chairman Cho ordered from his perch. He stood in a birdnest of a command center with his Ceri Guards, looking down on all of them. Or, all of the clones. He didn't deign to glance at Aliette.
Not that she was complaining. She had no interest in speaking to him, she was more concerned with keeping watch. The Padawan sat with her legs crossed, on top of an already repaired computer module, her eyes fixed on the snowy landscape below them. Watching. Waiting. The Force moved across the planet as pure as the snow, untouched by tainted lived.
It was a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling aura that surrounded the Chairman.
The Lady Chuchi had pulled away from the window that she had similarly been staring out, though hers had been less of a Watch and more of a Meditation.
"What makes you think that it's the Separatists?" the young Senator inquired, turning her face up to the man above her. Aliette was surprised to hear her question the older man at all. She had thought the Senator too Peaceful and Timorous for that. She was clearly wrong.
"Look around you," the man demanded, Arrogance and Irritation rolling out of his Center. Aliette felt the need to step to her Defense, and from the stillness in her squads shoulders, they felt the same.
Yes, she thought, look around you. Look at the spears and the blood. Look at the fur on the floor. Look at the blaster marks.
Eyes were locked on the Chairman. Gold and brown. The whole room was set on edge.
"Isn't this carnage enough proof for you," Chairman snipped, gesturing around them. Aliette felt her men bristle. She felt it through them, the Offense, the Irritation. The Anger.
He was speaking for the dead that were not his, who he did not care enough about to look past his own predisposed assumptions. A sliver of Anger slid into her own Center.
It was eased when the Lady Chuchi stepped towards the Chairman.
"But there are no dead droids, no blast marks, the clones injuries were not consistent with what-"
"You're an expert on war now, are you Senator?" the Chairman's voice was harsh, forcing her head bowed. Aliette moved without thinking, sliding between the Cowed Lady and the Sharp Chairman.
"She is more of one than you are," the near Savagery she gripped with her teeth was enough for the Chairman to draw away, if only for an instant. "You see what you want to see to further your own-"
"You dare speak that way! You are no Jedi, no Pantoran," he advanced upon her, his long legs carrying him until he was towering above her and the Lady Chuchi. Every clone in the room stiffened. Fingers twitched for blasters.
Aliette's knees locked. Her hands stayed perfectly still.
"I am a Padawan in the name of the Order, a Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic," her voice was too soft. She let herself lean a half centimeter away.
The Chairman's eyes flashed, ice in the dead light of the artificial space.
"You are Aliette," he slapped her with the words. Her eyes darted downward. His chin lifted and he turned from her, victorious. "And you, Senator, let me tell you something," he turned to the other young woman, who couldn't be much older than Aliette. Sketch touched her elbow when he drew nearer, his eyes narrowed at the back of the Chairman.
"I have led our people since before you were born. I have seen a hundred planets rise and fall through the force of arms. If it's not the Separatists out there then it's an aggressive and malevolent entity nonetheless, and I will not let whoever it is jeopardize the security of the people of Pantora!"
He swept away from the Padawan, leading the Senator away. The Lady Chuchi glanced at her as she passed, Concern drawn across her brow.
"Chairman, if the Separatists aren't behind this, then perhaps there is a peaceful solution," she put forth, following him only to the door. He stared at her with Scorn.
"Senator, I am willing to fight and die for my people. It is time to ask yourself if you are brave enough to do the same."
He walked right out, leaving clones ready for a fight and two Pantorans standing in silence.
Aliette moved, slowly, stopping at the Lady Chuchi's elbow.
"If there is a peaceful solution, We will help you find it," she vowed, indicating her troops. The Lady turned to look around them, at the troopers who all stood with Loyalty and Duty muffling their Fury at the Chairman.
She turned back to Aliette and dipped her head, to her and all the men at her back.
"Thank you, Padawan Ansa," she said, her Genuine voice quiet. Aliette stood still for a lpong moment, eyes wider.
She had never had a Pantoran lower themself to her.
"She doesn't like her name."
Punch looked over at Sketch from where he was trying to wrestle a dented panal away from the wall so could get to the wiring. The Pantorans could take the cold, but for the Clone's they only had their heat suits, and those would run out of a charge eventually. They needed to get the heat working again.
Gus snorted from where he was sorting through the tools they'd managed to find. "I don't like her name either. Slick!" he hissed the name like a curse.
"She's not Slick," Chopper said immediately, stepping towards their former Second. He was attached to the girl. He was ready to fight his own brothers for her after such a short amount of time.
"I know, but I don't want to call her that now," Gus retorted. His temper had started to cool lately. Punch blamed it on their Commander.
"Then why don't we call her something else?"
"Jester?" Punch asked. He was usually pretty quiet, but now he spoke, softer than the rest of them but steadier than he'd been in months. He shifted, looking over Punch's shoulder.
"I had an idea earlier," he explained, "and I went to ask around."
"Ask about what?" Gus frowned at him and Jester shrugged awkwardly.
"Nicknames. Aliette. Lita sounds pretty close, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess so..." Gus tilted his head around the way he did when, "Why'd you pick that?" he asked at last.
"And Lita means someone you can rely on," Jester added. At their questioning looks he went on, "I asked some of the guards that came with the Senator."
The lot of them looked at each other. A smile lifted Punch's mouth.
"It's perfect."
Aliette had already decided that she cared little for the Chairman of Pantora. She did not hate him, of course. She had given up the right to that ability years ago, when she had stepped into the hands of the order, into the arms of Komari.
She came very close to hating him though.
She came close to hating him when he demanded they ambush a people who wanted nothing but peace. She came close to hating him when he declared war.
She teetered dangerously on the edge of hating him when he got Bite and Teller injured. When he got Burner, Sander, Chuck, Still, Track, Seemore, Nova, Zinc, Quince, Coal, and Scribe killed.
But still she fell to her knees at his side, snow swirling around her fingers before they dipped into the blood on his back, dripping in from the wound of a spear. It had gone through his back, and into the front of his chest cavity, puncturing a lung and breaking three ribs. He was dying.
Aliette took a breath and called the Force to her but her concentration was broken when her cheek burned and her head snapped to the side. She was stunned.
"Do not touch me, Aliette," the Chairman snapped, "Senator," he turned his head. His breathing was harsh. His hands were shaking, "Senator Chuchi!"
The young woman dropped to his side while Aliette drew away, touching her cheek where he had slapped her. She was amazed he had enough strength left in his dying body to do that.
He clutched at the lady Chuchi, hissing words of Hate and Vengeance on a people who had asked for nothing but Peace. She pushed his hand off of her shoulder and in her face Aliette could see the drawing of great Strength, and Compassion.
When he started to fall forwards that Padawan could do nothing. He did not want her help, and so she gave none. Even if she had, he was on the doorstep of Death when they arrived. She probably couldn't have helped anyhow.
With a quiet sigh she released her anger into the Force, letting it leave her bones.
In one day Chi Cho had gotten eleven clones and two of his own Clansmen killed, all for nothing. It was a waste of life, and Aliette had little care for those who wasted life. Life was precious and deserved respect and care.
A hand touched her shoulder and Aliette looked up at her Master.
There was a pinch in his brows that she hadn't yet learned the meaning behind. Their Bond twirled with Concern, drawing a smile to her face and drawing her to her feet. Her eyes turned from the Pantoran Guard, to the Clones, to the Talz, taking in the casualties and injuries.
There was work yet to be done.
The familiarity of the Negotiators med bay was a comfort to her as she finished melding the scratch on Rex's arm.
"Thank you, Commander," he said stifly, and Aliette nodded and turned for her next patient while he went off to join and nervously watching Ahsoka, fresh back from the Temple. The only problem was, she didn't have anymore patients.
Just a gaggle of men, sitting on sick beds attached to the floor. Her men. Her Squad. Her soldiers.
"Is, something the matter?" they didn't look Nervous or Upset or hurt at all.
It was Chopper, who sat a bit away from the rest, who spoke.
"We were thinking, commander. You need a name from us."
"Excuse me?" She found herself staring at them, Stunned. A name? She hadn't been given one of those in over a decade. Not since Komari. Not since she had been pulled away from a iced over sign post on the docks.
"You got a name from your people, one from the Jedi. Now you need one from us," Punch said simply. Like it made any sense at all.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked, Hesitant.
"We were thinking Commander Lita had a nice ring to it," Said Jester. He met her eyes, Hope shining upon him. Lita felt her heart lift. They wanted her to have a name, and for her it was a great gift. For them it was as well. They owned nothing, all of them, except for their names.
She smiled softly at her men.
"Lita sounds wonderful. Thank you."