General Anakin Skywalker of the 501st walked among his men, feeling happy despite their deployment to Umbara that was coming soon. And why not? His men were loyal, brave soldiers who had good ideas of their own and they respected him. He noted his padawan, Ahsoka, leaving after talking with Fives, the ARC trooper. They got along well, with Ahsoka's energy matched by Fives's mischief. Perhaps he should be worried that Fives was now in earnest conversation with Hardcase, another of the company's troublemakers, but right now he didn't care. And it would be rather hypocritical of him. It couldn't hurt to pop into the conversation, though. If they were planning something, it would be fun to watch them, horrible liars both of them, try to make excuses.
Hardcase was talking quite passionately. "...and his casualty rates! 80%! If you ask me-"
"What would they ask you about, Hardcase?" Anakin interrupted. They apparently weren't planning anything.
"Oh, General, sorry. I didn't realize you were there. We were talking about the Nameless Commander, sir."
He raised an eyebrow. "The what?"
"The Nameless Commander, sir," Fives answered. "He's the clone commander of the 304th, General Krell's battalion."
"Why's he called that?"
"He doesn't have a name. None of his men do. They all go by their numbers. No one knows why he insists on it, but we've heard it."
Anakin frowned slightly. The clones he knew all valued their individuality highly and took great pride in their names. Why would a clone insist on his number, on his men going by their numbers? But there was something else. What Jesse had been talking about when he came up. "There's something else that bothers you about him, isn't there?"
"Yes, sir, there is. His casualty rates. He has an average casualty rate of 80%. He's throwing away the lives of his brothers in every battle."
"You know, that could not be the Commander's fault. It could be the General's."
Fives and Hardcase both shook their heads. "With all due respect, sir, the General is a Jedi. He wouldn't. We've had clones turn bad before. Slick, for example."
"I remember." Anakin did remember. Slick's betrayal had hurt deeply.
"All I can say," Five scowled, "is that the Nameless Commander isn't worthy to be called a clone, much less a vod."
Anakin nodded, then left. There wasn't much he could have said to that. The men under his command were very passionate and a clone who they considered a traitor in some way was the object of their highest scorn. And besides, he was supposed to be meeting up with Obi-Wan and Cody, before their legions left together for Umbara.
The two men he needed to see were at the command center, conferring over potential battle plans. Cody's helmet was off and his face was expectant as Anakin walked up. He suspected that the expectation had little to do with his military skill and more to do with how entertaining Cody found him and Obi-Wan when they were together.
"Hey, Cody, Obi-Wan. What's the situation?"
His former master answered him. "We'll be providing assistance to General Krell and the 304th. They've been on Umbara for a while now and have suffered heavy losses."
"You know, I was just talking with Fives and Jesse about the 304th. They called Krell's clone commander the Nameless Commander. You know anything about him, Cody?"
"Not much, sir. I've heard rumors, but I've never met him or any of his men. I have, however, met clones who confirm that he and his men only use their numbers."
"Only their numbers?" Obi-Wan was incredulous. He knew the names of all of his men, even the ones he didn't interact with on a constant basis. "Why don't they have names?"
"No idea, sir. Most people believe it's the commander."
"Have you ever known any clones who went by their numbers?"
"One, sir, but he doesn't count. We called him '67 but that was just because he hadn't picked a name yet. He was really eager to get a name; we just hadn't found the right one yet."
"Well, maybe we'll get the chance to ask."
In the shuttle, Fives stood behind General Skywalker, waiting for their touchdown on Umbara. He'd heard their assignment. The local people of Umbara had allied with the Separatists and had been engaged in combat with the GAR for several weeks now.
The battalion currently engaged there was the 304th, under General Pong Krell and the Nameless Commander. Traitor. Worse than Slick, who'd operated under a twisted sense of loyalty to his vode. What the Nameless Commander had done was inexcusable. He let his vode die.
The shuttle touched down in a captured Umbaran base and Fives walked out, side by side with Lt. Jesse, following their general, who was clearly spoiling for a fight. Commander Tano stepped out of the other shuttle, chatting with Hardcase, Kix, and Tup. His legion's jettii were the best of the best, no doubt about that. Though Generals Kenobi, Windu, Koon, and Secura were pretty good too.
General Krell stood waiting for them, his four arms behind his back as he surveyed them. A solitary clone stood with him, to the right and slightly behind. The Nameless Commander. He wore a black pauldron and kata, but his armor itself was completely bare, except for the helmet. On the helmet were jaig eyes, drawn in scarlet. Fives seethed. For Mandalorians, and all clones counted themselves as such, jaig eyes represented courage, valor, honor. This aruetii had not earned and certainly did not deserve them.
The scarlet color was interesting, though. He wasn't a member of the Coruscant guard or the 187th, so why a shade of red? Scarlet meant defiance in Mandalorian culture. Fives snorted. The Nameless Commander, defiant. Yeah, right.
Generals Skywalker and Kenobi and Commander Tano walked over to General Krell, friendly smiles on their faces but the expression of a hardened soldier about to go into battle in their eyes. Krell didn't change expressions at all.
"Nice of you two to join me. You're just in time for the next assault. Generals…?"
General Kenobi nodded deferentially, even though Krell really should know who they are. Five had noticed that Kenobi generally did the introductions and dealings with new people. Probably best that Skywalker didn't. "Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. This is my second-in-command, Commander Cody-" he nodded at Cody in recognition, "-and this is Anakin's Padawan, Commander Ahsoka Tano, and his men, Lt. Jesse and ARC-trooper Fives. The best of the best."
Krell grunted noncommittally, then gestured for the three Jedi to follow him, without introducing his commander to them. Fives thought he was the only one who noticed, but Kenobi, Skywalker, and Tano stood there, eyebrows raised as they glanced between the besalisk general and his commander.
The Nameless Commander followed Krell, still behind and to the right, down a corridor. The general walked straight down the corridor, but the commander only went halfway, before turning to the right.
"Cody!" Kenobi called. "Why don't you take Jesse and Fives, and get the men into the barracks? I think that's where Krell's commander went."
General Kenobi had tact. He called him 'Krell's commander'. General Skywalker had called him nothing but the 'Nameless Commander' since he'd heard the name. Fives agreed with Skywalker.
"Yes, sir." Cody nodded to the two 501st men and they walked off.
Fives headed into the barracks, where the 304th, 501st, and 212th were all stationed. Cody and Jesse, as the highest-ranking clones in their battalions, got their own rooms, near Kenobi, Skywalker, and Tano's. But Fives, despite being an ARC-trooper, was to bunk in the barracks, which was set up in a closed-off hangar.
The Nameless Commander was there, for some reason. Shouldn't he have been in his own officer's quarters? But no, he was sitting on one of the trooper bunks, his armor and helmet still on. In fact, all of the 304th troopers still had their armor on. Not a single one had stripped down to blacks. Sure, regs said that armor was to be worn at all times when not sleeping, but no general ever enforced it.
Some of the 501st and 212th men tried to talk to them but based on how quickly they walked back to their bunks, they'd been quickly repulsed. Fives laughed at the expression on Hardcase's face as he walked back from his own attempt.
One of the 304th men looked over at Fives's armor, his eyes sweeping over, stopping longingly at the blue paint. His own armor was completely white, almost like a shiny's save for the extreme amount of scratches and dents.
Fives looked away for a moment, then glanced back and realized he couldn't tell which vod it had been who'd been staring. Every single 304th trooper looked the same. Not just the way all of the clone troopers looked the same, since they shared a face, but nothing was different between these soldiers. There were no tattoos and all of the haircuts were regulation. Now, there were a few that had scarring on the face or places where injuries prevented some of an eyebrow or part of their hair from growing, but other than that there was no real variance. They looked like… what the longnecks had wanted the clone army to be.
This was worse than Five had imagined. The Nameless Commander had denied his men the ability to express their individuality through their armor, their physical appearance, or even their names. There were no words, not in Basic, Mando'a, Huttese, or any other, to describe this kind of monstrosity.
Anakin fiddled with his mechanical arm, lost in thought. He switched and switched back several settings without even noticing. He'd not stopped thinking about the Nameless Commander since he'd first seen him. And the weight he was feeling from the Force wasn't helping. Not at all.
Obi-Wan was apparently calm, sitting as he was on the chair in Anakin's room, drinking tea and listening to Ahsoka's freaked out ramblings. His former master drained the almost boiling and unsweetened tea in one gulp, then reached for another cup. It was his fifth. So Obi-Wan felt it too.
He prodded the weight, anxious. Nudges to the Force came from around him. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka prodding too. The weight was stolid, crushing those who were unfortunate enough to be able to feel it, oppressing those without a connection to the mysterious Force. Anakin reached a little deeper into it, then drew back quickly. It was cold, the dead cold of space. The Dark Side. The Dark Side was here. And judging by the expressions on his companion's faces, they agreed with his assessment.