A/N: It's been a while since I've written outside of the world of role playing [.net]. It took me a good month or so to write this story, because of everything that I've had to deal with both school- and home-wise. I hope that you guys enjoy this story, and any positive feedback is welcome. And for the record, this is a one-shot. There will be no chapters following this story.

----------

There are thousands of us.

Our purposes all correspond: to serve, and protect the Republic under any circumstances. We will give our lives for the well-being of the galaxy, and do not question, nor go against any orders given to us by Chancellor Palpatine. We serve with honor, and respect.

I am CT-1185, of the 411th Clone Trooper Division. Like every other Clone, I wore the traditional Phase I armor, and wielded the DC-155 blaster carbine. We, the 411th, were stationed on Kamino. We were escorting Jedi Master Kalimun - an aging, yet experienced combatant – to a cloning facility on Onderon. Our weapons were drawn, and we were ready for anything. We weren't sure if the Confederation had found the factory if not; if they had, we would have been too late. We were told that the a couple of the Clones from the 421st were guarding the structure, but CT-1342 – our commander, otherwise known as "Commander Calvin" – hadn't received a single transmission from them in about a month. Master Kalimun had volunteered to go with us to see if there was anything out of the ordinary there, and two days later, we were bound for Onderon.

"Stay close," Kalimun muttered to us. He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it, which was the cue for us to go on high alert. I fell into stride directly behind Calvin. I could tell that he, like the rest of us, was anticipating an ambush, or some sort of surprise attack. Lately, the Confederates were starting to launch attacks against us that would be considered by many to be… unorthodox. Guerrilla warfare was very popular in the Confederation nowadays. Everywhere we went, we had to be very careful, and stay on our toes. It was rigorous, really, having to put up with the things that we were forced to put up with. I hate reliving the battles I participated in. It's too difficult for me to even think about them, let alone talk about them.

At the moment, there were eighteen of us accompanying Master Kalimun. The other two troopers had control of our LAAT, and had flown ahead to scan the area for any possible resistance. So far, their reports had come back 'negative'. Still, for all we knew, our (possible) assailants could be in hiding, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Suddenly, Calvin came to an abrupt halt. He had his rifle slung around his back, and was holding a holovid. A bright, blue image shimmered to life above the device. Calvin had his back turned to me, and I was unable to see the image that was being projected from it. All that I was able to hear was one, bone-chilling order:

"Commander Calvin, the time has come. Execute Order 66."

An acknowledgment. Calvin nodded, then shut the holovid off. He reached around behind him and grabbed his blaster rifle, and slung it around so that his hand was resting on the grip, and his finger was on the trigger. He glanced back and gave us a curt nod, which we returned. We had received the Chancellor's orders, as well.

One by one, every single blaster rifle was raised toward the back of Kalimun, who still didn't suspect a thing.

This was it! This was the moment we had been waiting for. This Jedi was going to perish, along with every other Jedi in the galaxy. Every single one of us would see to that. We had learned long ago that it was the Jedi, not the Sith, that were destroying the galaxy. With their absurd political opinions… their obscure way of going about things, they were preventing the galaxy from reaching its true potential. Palpatine could bring the Repubilc – the Empire – to its full potential.

Not a single one of us hesitated as we gunned down the Jedi Master. The man hadn't suspected a thing. His arms flailed. His body lurched forward, jerking violently as he hit the ground. The clips of our blaster rifles held close to forty rounds. It wasn't until the final bolt had been shot when I finally released the trigger. I lowered my rifle, eyeing Kalimun's body. The man – corpse – did not move. He was dead.

"It's done," Calvin said, speaking to the holographic image of Palpatine once again.

A smile slowly played out across the half-hidden face of the projection.

"Well done, Commander," he said, slowly and deliberately. "You are now to aid the 503rd in their mission to seize control of Iziz."

Calvin gave him a sharp nod, acknowledging his order.

"As you wish, my Lord."