A/N - A small detour before we get to Rex and Ahsoka. I hope you like it. It does refer to previous chapters. Chapters 54 and 55 are most relevant in regards to Kru. This chapter is simultaneous with Chopper and Rex deserting.

A/N - Just a note that this will be a hard chapter to read (and not just for the angst) because Kru's thoughts - like so many of us - are scattered between the past and the present, jumping from point A to point Q with no reason beyond a single word and what it can convey.

Post-Order 66 arc

Zeer's Squad

Zeer sighed softly. It didn't hurt. He didn't hurt anymore and Zeer did not have to be a medic to understand that was a bad thing, that the process of dying had begun.

"Are you alright, Sergeant Zeer?"

Of course not, 56-9386, Zeer had wanted to shout in his anger, I've got more broken bones than I can count, internal injuries, busted ribs shredding my lungs and a concussion. I'm dying. But 56-9386, or 56-Target as the squad called him, was Spaarti and there were so many things he didn't understand simply because he was so young, so many things that hadn't been flash-drilled into him because there'd been no time.

Nor was Sergeant Zeer angry at 56-Target.

"About as good as possible under the circumstances, 56-9386." Zeer didn't have the breathe to speak any louder than a harsh whisper. The Spaarti preferred numbers over any given names; it let them know their standing among Spaarti.

"Oh." The other clone dropped his head slightly, understanding the prevarication for what it was. For a Spaarti, he was brilliant or had at least learned acceptable behavior from the rest of the squad. He bit his lower lip in the dim, flickering light of the helmet. "You can call me 56-Target if that's easier, sir." Shyly he dropped his face, staring at his hands like he so often did when confused, then looked into Zeer's eyes with an awkward smile. "I kind of like having a name. It... it makes me feel like I belong to the squad because they all have names."

Zeer smiled. "Thank you, 56-Target." They'd started calling him Five-Six-Target on the battlefield; when it took too long to go through his entire numerical designation. Torque found him on the battlefield wandering aimlessly lost and had taken 56-Target under his wing. When 56-Target was confused about something – usually some insult or bit of Mandalorian lore – Torque would patiently explain.

56-Target had asked to trade sexual favors for sleeping with one of his brothers but the squad had all refused. They hadn't realized he would asked outside of the squad. It had been Torque who'd found 56-Target crying in the shower and unable to explain why; Torque who had beaten the other clone to bloody sorrow and Torgue who allowed 56-Target to crawl in bed with him, simply holding him. Because they all knew that 56-Target didn't want anything more than comfort; that he hadn't understood the ramifications of the trade.

Torque had once asked if he could share 56-Target's bed. He had shrugged a shoulder and ignored the startled, curious looks of the rest of the squad. "It was a hard battle, 56-Target and I'd like the comfort." At 56-Target's expression, bright like a rising sun, Zeer knew Torque was giving 56-Target the pride of being able to help his brothers.

The squad helped Zeer and Torque teach 56-Target. He was now an acceptable marksman on par with many troopers in Torrent; he knew to duck, to wait, to obey orders in the chaos of battle and had gradually realized there were tactics other than a straightforward, suicidal attack though he always suggested that when Zeer asked for options.

"They'll come for us, Sergeant." 56-Target nodded firmly.

Zeer wished they would but Commander Appo must have used overrides to shut down his helmet. As far as everyone knew, he was dead. He hadn't realized it at first, hadn't known why his kriffing helmet suddenly malfunctioned on the way back to Torrent Company.

They'd gone in close to the enclave of rebels to set up demolitions. Sergeant Zeer had thought that unnecessary since Commander Appo's plan involved medium-range bombardment with the heavy artillary and had even said so. If Rex had been there, he might have been able to convince Appo but not Zeer, merely a sergeant. The commander had ordered it and Zeer, ever conscious of rank and military protocol, had taken his squad and gone as ordered. After being wounded by that very bombardment and dragged into the small mound of rubble that had once been a building, Zeer had had time to think about it.

Appo wanted nothing more than to be in command of the 501st. He wanted the 501st to be his in the way that it was Rex's. In dying, Zeer had nothing but pity for Appo. He'd never have the 501st like Rex; Appo was a commander; Rex was a leader. There was a galaxy of difference between the men. Appo wanted the best men, Rex wanted his men to be their best.

Zeer glanced at 56-Target, patiently sitting at Zeer's side. Appo hadn't liked him because he was a Spaarti - disposable by definition - and had wanted to use him as other commanders had used the Spaarti; as battlefield fodder, as diversion.

"No, 56-Target. I don't think Commander Appo will come." Zeer was glad for company as he lay dying but he wished a better end for the young clone than a straightforward, suicidal attack once the rebels found him.

56-Target snorted. "Not the commander, sir. We're not important enough for the commander to care. I meant the squad, sir; they'll come for us."

Zeer could only blink back tears at 56-Target's faith. Commander Appo wouldn't let them. They were a good squad; the best and steadiest in Torrent and they wouldn't break orders.

There was another moment of silence and the helmet light flickered and dimmed a bit more as the battery ran down.

"Sir," 56-Target's voice questioned. "When the light goes out, could I… would it be alright if I… would you mind…"

"What, 56-Target?" Zeer suspected he knew what 56-Target wanted; like so many young children, he was afraid of the dark.

"If I lie down next to you?"

"I'd like that, 56-Target," Zeer whispered. Tears gathered in his eyes; for himself dying, for poor 56-Target, for so many of his brothers already dead, and for Rex. Zeer had been with the 501st from the beginning, there was no one else remaining who had survived Teth. He was the last of Rex's first company. With a sigh, he realized that's why he was dying. He was just a small impediment to Commander Appo's plan… the last of Rex's men.

"56-Target, take off my gauntlet and glove," Zeer ordered quietly. "When you lie down, I want to touch your face." He paused, "and you don't have to wait until the light goes off." Zeer thought he might be dead by then and understood that 56-Target only wanted the illusion of human warmth through the armor, the fragile shell of caring and something to hold in his fear of a dark and unknown future. "I'd like the comfort of having you beside me now." Zeer realized it was the truth.

Target was gentle in removing his glove. Slowly, so he wouldn't jostle Zeer and cause him pain, 56-Target curled up at Zeer's side. Zeer hugged his arm around the clone, his fingers stroking Target's dark hair.

"What are you going to do when I die, Target?"

"I don't want you to die, sir. You're a good sergeant. Everyone knows you're the best." Target sniffed; the Spaarti were young and their flashed-in personalities wore down as they grew older and began to develop their own personalities. Most of the Spaarti didn't have the chance to grow older. Target, at three years, was the oldest Spaarti Zeer knew of.

"I guess I'll bury you and look for water then food then shelter."

Zeer recognized that bit of survival flash-training.

"Or maybe water then the company. Because I'll have my rations." He bit his lower lip and continued in a whisper. "Yours too."

And Zeer was proud of 56-Target because that wasn't flash-training. It was even a good idea, taking Zeer's rations, but seeking the company wasn't. "Don't look for the company, Target, Commander Appo wants you dead."

Target shrugged. "I don't know why he doesn't like me. We're clones; we're all the same."

"You're Spaarti…"

"But I'm still a clone and when I'm ten, I'll be just like everyone else. You've even said I could be sergeant's second when I was ten."

Zeer had to give a chuckle at the simple logic, no matter that it pulled at some torn organ inside him. He had told 56-Target that in answer to his first, hesitant question as Zeer rotated his second between the rest of his squad. When you're ten, 56-9386, I'll make you sergeant's second when you're ten. None of them expected 56-Target to live that long.

"We're all individual, Target. You're an individual and that's the best thing in the world; to be yourself." He hugged the younger clone closer and Target carefully, gently pressed his head into the hollow of Zeer's shoulder.

Nothing hurt anymore but Zeer breathed softly, knowing he wouldn't last much longer. His fingers combed through 56-Target's hair.

They'd lost Sergeant Zeer and 56-Target. With a frown, Kru glanced around the barracks.

The newer guys were in the showers but Kev sat on the edge of the bunk, absently turning his helmet in his hand, staring straight in front of him, his mouth open in pain and shock. Torque was sitting cross-legged, silently cleaning his armor, but he was sitting on 56-Target's bunk as if waiting for 56 to return in a moment to share the task and he'd already spent enough time on the vambrace to clean an entire set of armor. His eyes glistened moistly.

Kru turned back to the console, absently flicking through messages or anything else to distract himself from the image playing endlessly in his mind.

He'd been just ahead of the sergeant and 56-Target as they were running back from setting demolitions near the rebel enclave. Kev and Deek in the lead, closely followed by Torque, Tangent, Larm, Gan. He'd been lagging, keeping track of Zeer and 56 bringing up the rear; a line of men mostly hiddened from each other's line of sight by the trees and rocks as they ran back to the company.

Suddenly Zeer's and 56-Target's helmets had died, both of them clicking dead in everyone else's helmet counters.

"Sarge!" Kev had called out along with another voice Kru recognized as his own only because his helmet told him so. Kru had turned to see 56-Target running but slowing as he turned toward Sergeant Zeer who was pounding one side of his helmet with his gauntlet even as he loped toward them, the artillary hard on their heels.

"Zeer dead, 56-9386 dead."

Kru had started to correct the commander when the barrage of artillary shortened, one of the blasts sending one of the two trailing troopers twenty meters into the air as it separated the two from the route to the main company. Kru's mouth had hung open then the ever-nearing artillary had chased him to follow the others.

"It's not right," he whispered.

Kev shrugged. "Sergeant is whoever Appo decides, Kru." He stood from the bunk and turned sadly towards his armor lock, setting his helmet in place and reaching to his shoulder to unlock the chest piece. He was the most experienced of Zeer's squad and should have been named their new sergeant. Instead it was Deek. Only last week, Zeer had said Deek would make a good sergeant - given a little more experience. He had slapped Kev on the shoulder with a laugh and the words, 'you'd make a good one now and I don't know why command hasn't acted on our suggestion to make you one'.

Kev's face tightened and twisted; Kru knew he would give up the entire idea of being a sergeant simply to see Zeer and 56-Target again. To Kev, their brothers were more important than a promotion.

Kru shook his head. "That's not what I meant, Kev, even though it's true. What I meant was Zeer and 56-Target weren't dead when their helmets clicked. They were still running when the commander called them dead." His voice lowered. "They were alive when the artillary barrage shortened and slammed in their faces."

"Show me," ordered Kev with a frown. Kru pulled out his helmet, prepared to show them the battle vids but even as his fingers reached, the helmet activated itself and the quiet whir sounded in the room. At the same moment, Torque's helmet also sounded from where he'd set it next to the bed and Kev's vibrated in the armor lock simultaneously with the helmets of Deek and the others in their locks.

"Don't touch it," Kev commanded Torque as he grabbed Kru's hand, preventing him from reaching and trying to stop his helmet.

"What is it?" Torque stared into the bowl of his helmet. "Why did it activate?"

Kev's eyes glittered angrily with sudden understanding. "Normally, by now we'd all be in the showers if we hadn't sat here mourning Zeer and 56-Target. We wouldn't notice this and by the time we realized some of the vids were gone, we'd simply report it to our sergeant." He looked at them, "possibly wouldn't have even mention it to each other if we had noticed portions missing. It happens often enough." He looked at Kru, his brows lowering and Kru knew he was going to mention Chopper but for once Kru didn't care.

"You know how medics have all-see through any trooper's helmet to assist in battlefield medicine?" Both men nodded and Kev continued speaking. "Chopper told me captains and commanders have overrides like the all-see. He told me Captain Rex showed him a long time ago and on the battlefield, we've dissected a few helmet. They have more electronics than they should. And remember Coric in the Temple? How his helmet seemed to simply cut off his words when he died? Not like a helmet destroyed and not like a man dying - simply his shouting cut off mid-word."

Both men nodded, Kru wondering why Captain Rex had shown Chopper the overrides and why did Kev always have to mention Chopper. It wasn't as if they bunked with three-quarter trooper.

Kru shifted uncomfortably as he wondered if he'd rather bunk with Sergeant Chopper or with Appo when he'd been a sergeant. Before the Temple, before he'd killed the commander, Chopper had been acknowledged as one of the best men in Torrent by most of the 501st, Kru one of the few troopers who disagreed. Though after going to Coruscant and meeting the civilian pilot, he'd usually kept his thoughts to himself.

Even after Operation Knightfall, when Kru had been complaining about Fives and Chopper taking down the commander, Zeer had turned to him, angrily frustrated after failing to explain to 56-Target why the Jedi were the bad guys now, why they'd had to kill the commander. "What would you have done, Kru, if, instead of Chopper and Fives, it had been you and Kev to run into General Tano?"

And Kru felt like he'd smashed into the bulkhead of the Resolute at full speed to contemplate that question. But he still didn't think Chopper was worth the trouble. But Kev did.

So did Captain Rex.

It had been his fourth day on Coruscant; the third after he'd met the Pilot-Captain Athualla and her apprentice, Gajer. There was going to be another sabacc game that evening. This time another friend of Chopper's, some trooper from the 41st Elite, would be there. Apparently, the pilot-captain knew him as well.

Kru had frowned. Everyone there who wasn't in the 501st was there because of Chopper; because Chopper knew them, because they liked Chopper.

The second night they'd shown up, Gajer had brought a small, wooden game two people could play and Kru almost turned from Gajer and the simple game in a fit of pique. He was glad he hadn't. For one, the game may have been simple to learn but there were astonishing complexities behind the moves. More importantly, he realized that Gajer was trying to be friendly. That surprised Kru. He had thought Gajer might ignore him or be aloof after his faux pas in regards to captain pilot but Gajer seemed sympathetic.

It was hard not to sulk while the other troopers played cards and laughed. Kru suspected that the woman cheated. She won too often. He watched her, but couldn't figure out how she did it.

Kru wanted to creep out of their view and hide; it was hard not to leave the sound of their laughter as they played cards and ate whatever small things the two civilians brought. Gajer made sure that Kru had some portion; often loudly; 'hey, save some for me and Kru' he had called out then quickly grabbed the platter of something new that Kru thought was delicious beyond belief.

At least Chopper had lost ascendancy with the woman; her favorite trooper now appeared to be Jester. The sergeant from the 212th took his role as protector seriously, with Kix only slightly less protective of the pregnant woman who let him touch her belly so intimately. Chopper had merely let Jester sit near the woman and touch her, the coward. For all that Kru had felt those hard fists, only a coward would…

Would what? Kru asked himself in confusion. It had obviously been the woman's choice and Kru knew he'd let Kev take the lead if a woman preferred Kev.

Hardcase had volunteered to give up the large bathtub if Kru wanted to soak. Kru had declined. If he hadn't been so unhappy he might have laughed at the relieved expression on Hardcase's face. "Thanks for offering, vod, but it's not my pleasure."

"How do you know?" Hardcase pointed out reasonably. "You haven't tried it."

Hardcase was gone, too. So many good troopers, gone.

He had been called into the room Captain Rex was using as an office during the stay on Coruscant. "I understand you had a small altercation with Pilot Athualla?" The captain's voice had been friendly, questioning. There was nothing to put a man on edge, nothing that would be followed by recriminations or anger and Kru still didn't understand why he'd acted the way he had.

"It's a lie that Chopper told you." Kru regretted the outburst even as the captain had inspected him with suddenly cold and clinical eyes, though Kru could not regret the emotion.

"Actually, trooper," Captain Rex's voice was hard. "I haven't spoken with Chopper since the day we landed. Second in command, Coric, and Sergeant Zeer separately apprised me of the situation."

"I'm sorry, sir." He hadn't been sorry, not really. Or rather he was sorry his outburst had occurred in front of the captain instead of another trooper or even Sergeant Zeer.

"But since you seem a bit uneasy about it," the captain continued as if he hadn't heard the apology. "Why don't you tell me what happened." That hadn't been a question.

Kru gave a tiny twitch of his shoulders, enough to not disrupt standing at attention, enough for the captain to notice and realize Kru didn't consider it important.

"I called Chopper," Kru suddenly remembered Chopper was a favorite of the command group. He had lowered his voice and found the pattern of wood on the floor quite interesting.

Even today, he could recall the exact pattern that had been at his feet in sharp detail; as sharp as his emotions.

"I called Chopper 'ehn cuir shabuir' and the pilot-captain took offense. She slapped me across the face." Kru had looked into Captain Rex's eyes wondering what his punishment would be.

Sighing, the captain strode to the wide window overlooking, in the distance, the Jedi Temple. "Did anyone call one-on-one on her behalf?"

The Temple wasn't there anymore and Kru had a sudden curiosity about the current view from that window. Had something been built there or was it simply a large blank space in the scenery? A large missing piece out of Coruscant?

"No, sir." Kru had known at the time that if he didn't say anything more, he might not deepen his hole, but the words came out anyway. "I think it's because they all knew I didn't stop her. She was fast but I could have…" His voice had faded to a whisper. "blocked her hand."

"That restraint, at least, was good judgment on your part." Captain Rex turned back to Kru then moved to the chair at his desk. "What you think of Chopper is immaterial to him; if it ever becomes important, he will take care of it. I'm more concerned with your attitude about another trooper in front of a civilian. It doesn't look good to civilian populations to hear troopers speaking derogatorily about other troopers, their commanders, or war efforts."

"It won't happen again, sir."

"I know it won't, Kru." Kru had straightened at the hardness in the captain's voice but no punishment was forthcoming. "Have you apologized?" Rex had continued in a softer, more inquisitive voice.

"It didn't seem right, Captain. I was courteously quiet for the remainder of the evening, not wishing to precipitate anything else; when she left I asked if she needed anything, I offered to escort them to the port and was respectful."

There was a snort of amusement from Rex. "As if any of those who consider themselves her friends would allow you to escort her after that altercation."

Kru flushed with embarassment. The troopers had all had that same reaction when he had offered, all but Chopper. The woman hadn't laughed either, simply refusing him politely, and Kru was glad for that. She'd chosen Kix to escort her and Kru was glad for that as well. "No, but I did offer and I would have if they'd all had duty. It was well-meant."

"And last night? I believe there was another game last night." Rex asked.

Kru nodded. "The same last night. But it doesn't seem right to apologize for what I know to be true." Hardcase had escorted her last night, proudly tall and offering her his arm.

Captain Rex gave a chuckle and shook his head. "Just because you know it doesn't make it true." He stood from the desk chair. "If you see her again, and I suspect you will. Tonight?"

"Yes, sir. There's another game set for tonight and she has promised a treat. I…" Kru paused. "They don't ostracize me or anything, sir. It's my choice to not play sabacc with Chopper. Pilot-Captain Athualla brings snacks with her and shares freely. I do not take more than an appropriate share. I thank her."

"But you're uncomfortable?" Rex had eyed the young trooper and Kru had blushed a bit with a small frown at the scrutiny then he had nodded.

"Perhaps you can apologize for spoiling the mood of the gathering? Perhaps an apology for hurting her hand with your face? Sometimes to a civilian, the form is as important as the content. An apology of an inconsequential nature will let her know that you don't wish to upset her or the dynamics of the gathering although you don't agree with her. She will also be courteous when you meet. That's not an order, Kru, it's your choice. I would suggest you go over sections in the regs dealing with civilians. Again, simply a suggestion, Kru. Zeer was there and if he saw anything worth a reprimand, then he will do so. Dismissed."

"Why did you call me here, sir?" Kru had been hesitant to asked; had almost not asked because maybe it had been for punishment and the Captain had forgotten.

Captain Rex had leaned slightly back in the chair with a tired sigh and Kru realized he hadn't forgotten why he had called Kru, but hoped Kru had forgotten.

"I may have an upcoming assignment for a short-term squad and, if so, need a demolitions sub-specialty. I was considering you but have changed my mind."

"May I ask why, sir?" Kru had swallowed. An assignment, a short-term temporary squad, was military; it shouldn't have anything to do with civilians, with the captain pilot. A short-term squad, a special assignment… these were opportunities to show what a trooper could do outside of blasting clankers. These were things that demonstrated what a trooper could do outside of his own squad. There was the possibility to shine brightly, to be considered one of the best.

"Because Chopper will probably be in the line of command and could hypothetically end up in charge. Your attitude towards Chopper would have you questioning him and the few orders he would give; reducing his effectiveness and yours."

Kru nodded as his fingers had tightened on his helmet until they hurt. Something had cracked in the helmet but neither he nor the captain acknowledged it. "I understand, sir."

"No you don't, Kru," replied the captain, shaking his head. "Not in the least." There was hesitation in his face. "You're a good trooper, Kru." He seemed about to say something more.

"One of the best in Torrent?" Kru's voice had been a challenge as Pilot Athualla's voice rang in his ears.

Does your general have any reason to call you 'one of the best in Torrent?'. For a long time Kru had tried to be one of the best. Now, he wouldn't care to have that particular accolade - not in Vader's Fist and not from Appo. He'd been satisfied to have the captain's respect and being the best trooper didn't seem to matter after that. He knew he was in one of the Captain Rex's best squads and that was also good to know.

Somewhere inside his mind a saner portion of self-preservation had told him to shut his mouth, to turn around and run out the door. He had ignored it and asked again. "Am I one of the best in Torrent Company?"

"No, Kru, you aren't. Not yet; maybe never. That will depend on you." He hadn't thought about it then, but later he remembered Rex's voice had been deeply sad.

Kru had wanted to cry like he was a two year cadet. War was his only business, the only thing he knew. It was his life and would be his death. To be told he wasn't as good as he thought he was or hoped to be, shattered and splintered something inside him. Absently he had raised his hand to his heart then dropped it.

Wounded to the very core of his identity, Kru's voice had quivered. "Yes, sir. Permission to depart, sir?"

Rex had sighed deeply. "Go talk with someone, Kru," he said gently. "Coric or Kix. And that is an order. Permission." He nodded and Kru turned with precision normally reserved for the parade field then paused at the door.

"Sir, just because I don't like Chopper doesn't mean I'll disobey any order he gives."

There had been a long silence before Captain Rex spoke again. "It's not that you dislike him, Kru. It's that you consider him and his judgment defective."

"You're the captain, sir, and you don't consider his judgment impaired. I can follow that order, sir." He would have; Kru knew if the captain had commanded it, he would have gone on the assignment and not said a single word if Chopper had told them to drop their weapons and dance 'Calimari Lake' for the clankers.

Again there had been silence then Rex spoke again. "I'll consider that, Kru," he said softly.

"Thank you, sir."

He had seen Coric; rather, Coric had seen him staggering drunkenly down the hallway with a pale, ashen face and had taken him back to the room. Coric had spent most of the night listening to Kru.

Coric was the best of them, second only to the Captain and maybe Fives. Kru remembered Coric in the Temple, yelling, his voice hoarse. "This is wrong! You are men, not droids! Think..." Then the emptiness; not even static

Kru frowned and turned his face to Kev and Torque. "That wasn't right, either." Kru looked up at Kev from where he sat on the bunk. "None of it."

Kev's mouth hung open in surprise. He obviously never thought to hear that sentiment from Kru and Kru's lips pinched tightly shut. For a moment, Kru wondered why Kev liked him; Zeer was his mentor, Chopper his friend, 56-Target his student. He thought Kru agreed with Appo... why did someone like Kev even need him around?

Torque snorted. "That's treasonous talk, Kru." Then he threw in his own words. "And I agree." He rubbed his hand along 56-Target's bunk frame. "And I think we should return to find out what happened to Sergeant Zeer and 56-Target." His voice softened, "even if it's just to bring back their bodies."

"Commander Appo won't let us go." Kru muttered as he ran the back of his hand against his nose though his mind was on Chopper who seemed at the center of everything. What did people see in Chopper that was worthwhile? Maybe he could go talk with Chopper. Maybe he could ask. Maybe he and Chopper could have a cup of caf at Chopper's table late one night and he would ask, "Chopper, how can I be more like you?"

Torque bowed his head, angrily staring at the floor. "Never said we should ask."

Kev nodded softly. "I'll ask Captain Rex; even though he wasn't there, his permission will give us some leeway and he's likely to agree."

But there'd been no chance to ask the Captain. Chopper had seen Kev in the hallway on his way to the mess where Captain Rex was usually to be found and had asked for his assistance with a small Togrutan prisoner so much like their former commander that Kev had bitten his lip.

"We have to go on our own," said Kev, with his lower lip puffed up and bloody from his own teeth, as he pulled on his helmet again and turned toward the barrack's door.

Torque had nodded and stood from the bunk. Kru had picked up his helmet. "With you, Kev."

Next chapter is the end...

Rex finally re-united with Ahsoka; but it's been almost two years since the terrible events of Order 66. Can she forgive him for what he's done?