Hello again, Star Wars Fans! It's been a hot minute. After I wrapped The Hunt for Project Stardust(which may have some slight re-writes in order, due to Jedi: Survivor) in the summer of 2021, my desire to write has not been able to coexist well with my class schedule. But I squeezed in a little work where and when I could, in hopes of putting together a story that was truly moving and impactful. A story that was, more than anything, about brotherhood and family; A story that is true to Star Wars, at its heart. So, here we are. After a long two years, I'm proud to return to the community with a fresh new tale.

Inspired by Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and Star Wars: Battlefront II, I present my next original Star Wars tale, Order 66: 31357. Enjoy!


Chapter I

Snowpeak. That's what I'm called. Most of the time just Snow, or maybe Snowy. I picked that up after a freak storm during field training in the Alderaanian mountains. My designation is CT-31357.

I'm a clone.

Part of the Grand Army of the Republic. I serve in the 104th Battalion, under Jedi General Plo Koon and Commander Wolffe. Not that I even know them. The only person close to their rank I know is Forest, the commanding officer of the 48th division of the 104th. I know that all leaders, regardless of designation, feel the weight of the lives the men that serve them carry. That much is true. But to those guys? I may as well be just a number. And the cold reality is, the weight of one life is still just a number too. That's how the Kaminoans viewed all of us.

Regardless, I know how to take orders. That's something my Supervising Officer, Null, taught me. I never really learned how he got the name, but I like him. He's the one I trust to have my back in the field. He taught me how to be a front line man, to master the assault techniques I had been taught to fill in my cadet squadron. To this day, I still carry the light DC-15A he gifted me into battle, with a trusty pack of thermal detonators at my side and a close-range shotgun on my back, for when things got a little dicey. I may be the next thing to a nobody, but I never said I couldn't do a job when I'm told to.

A sudden knock on my bed frame pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked away from my helmet, the gray and white snowfall design on the left side, turning my gaze to the trooper leaning on the post. "Hey rookie," He said, a smirk on his face. Alkali. One of the fireteam leaders that had helped Null with my field training.

I chuckled and tried for a smile, looking back at my helmet. "I see you're making the usual rounds. Does that mean what I think it means?" I said back in the same voice. He shifted in his armor, which bore a large nuclear symbol across his chest.

"The Outer Rim sieges have been an overwhelming success across the galaxy. Forest is actually kind of worried about how well it's going," Alkali responded. "We've been reassigned."

I set down my helmet by my side, looking up to him. "Where to?"

"Cato Neimoidia."

I stood up so fast I just about hit my head on the upper bunk. "Gunray's homeworld?!" I said. "Zelec was telling me the higher ups thought it was going to take the 501st, 212th, and the 104th to even make a dent in that blockade. What changed?"

"Bracca. Rumor has it that General Tapal and the 13th have broken through, and the Separatists called for reinforcements. Neimoidia was the only place that had any to spare," He explained, a wicked grin coming across his face. "Unfortunately for them, they had no idea that the Wolves were waiting for them to make a mistake like this."

I tried my best to return the smile, picking up my helmet and tucking it under my arm. "Well then, let's go get that slimy bastard."

His already wide grin grew bigger. "The Alpha will be making the jump within the hour," He informed me, turning to exit the barracks. I began to relax my posture. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes, sir?" I said as I straightened myself again.

"Null asked me to tell you to find him."

"Why?"

Alkali shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he wants to have you on his fireteam for this mission. Or maybe he just wants to tell you to sit this one out."

"Wonderful," I muttered under my breath. Then I let out a sigh. "Where is he?"

"The hangar bay."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "Tell him I'm on my way."

With a casual salute, he passed through the barracks door, leaving me alone once again. I allowed myself a small frown of confusion, spinning my helmet around and looking at my reflection in the visor. I can't imagine why Null wants to see me, I thought, smoothing out the faded sides of my hair. Unless he's still hung up on that Geonosis incident. In which case, I'm in trouble. I slid my helmet on, fastening the pressure seal and setting the heads-up display to 'standby'. I plucked my blaster, some detonators, my shotgun, and two localized EMP grenades from my equipment, attaching them at various places around my combat belt. It was somewhat excessive, but in fairness, any time previous when Null wanted to see me, I usually ended up wishing I had brought them.

I shook my head, disregarding the previous thought. Null's my SO. If he wants to see me, it's probably good news. Then I walked through the doorframe out into the labyrinth of hallways that made up the ship.

I started making my way towards the hangar at a casual pace, passing other members of the 48th company on the way. I recognized some of them; Yubs, who had been one of my good friends since Kamino, and Hydrogen, who's explosive sense of humor was just as combustible as the droids he ran into on the battlefield. And of course, there was the defining trait of all us clones, regardless talent or otherwise. The same face I wore was worn by all the other soldiers around me, dressed head to toe in the same armor, despite the unique markings that we put on them. Take the snowflake on my helmet for example. It just added a little something extra. Underneath it all, it was still clone armor. Same with tattoos.

The small door leading to the hangar bay Null kept his ARC-170 in opened with a quick hiss in front of me, and I once again found myself shaken out of my thoughts, this time by the sound of the overhead bay doors sealing shut for the hyperspace jump. Yellow flashing lights and a single loud tone from a siren followed, issuing a final warning to all troopers that were in the middle hangar to return to an area sealed by pressure locks. That sound will wake you up, if nothing else, I remarked to myself, scanning the platform for the clone bearing Null's armor markings(I said it made no difference to how we're all still clones. Not that it wasn't practical for other means). I spotted him in conversation with two other soldiers that I scarcely saw, but knew all too well. Everyone did.

ARC Sergeant Ghoasty, who I had the honor of training with a singular time when I was on Kamino, and second to none in the 48th terms of strength and skill on the battlefield. By his side another ARC trooper, this one I had only heard of. ARC Captain Assaulting, who despite being part of the 27th company(Shadow, known for their aerial troopers), is practically Wolffe's right hand man. I was on Null's fireteam, and I had a difficult enough time keeping up with him on the front. Which made me wonder why he was asking me here, if he was talking to two of the most skilled and deadly ARC troopers in the battalion.

"...combat tactics. Well, when Ghoasty and I are with the 44th, one of our favorites is what we like to call the "Meridian" maneuver. Basically, the two of us flank the group of droids, drawing them into the corners, right? Then, they're so focused on us they don't even notice Goliath rolling into the center and unleashing six rounds of death by impact ordinance," Assaulting explained. "Man, I miss the days when the raining hell from above was my job."

"And it's not still?" Ghoasty responded. His tone was somewhere between humorous and serious. "I've been at this longer than you have, and you're still managing to put some of my headcounts to shame."

"Guilty as charged," Assaulting said with a wink. "I do miss the jetpack though…"

"I'm sure. It'll be a fun throwback on Cato Neimoidia for you, I suppose. I just wish I could be the one blasting through the sky for a change, but duties are duties," Null lamented. His gaze shifted from the two troopers before him to me as I approached. "Speaking of… Snowpeak. Glad to see you got my message."

"Sir?" I said skeptically, observing the two ARC troopers in the room. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I don't belong in the same room as them."

"Are you kidding?" Ghoasty jabbed. "You're a clone, just like us. The only difference is experience, but right now, that doesn't matter. We're all on equal footing," He said quickly. I took a step back. "So take off the helmet and relax."

I complied, removing my helmet and tucking it under my arm, but remaining at attention. Assaulting chuckled. "You trained him to be a straight soldier, that's for sure, Null."

"Seriously, Snow, relax," Null told me. I hesitantly relaxed my posture, approaching Null and standing beside him. "I believe you're acquainted?" He said, gesturing to the ARCs. I nodded once.

"ARC Sergeant Ghoasty and ARC Captain Assaulting," I said automatically. "It's an honor."

"Don't act like such a stranger, kid. I was the one that picked you for the 104th, in case you forgot," Ghoasty reminded. I shook my head instantly.

"No. No sir, how could I forget that? You personally worked with me during my training," I recalled. Assaulting nodded in approval.

"I respect your choice, Null. He certainly has his head on straight," Assaulting commented. Null nodded in appreciation.

"Thank you."

I looked at my SO, confused. "I don't understand."

"Word hasn't really gotten around yet, so I didn't expect you to know, or at least, not immediately," Null replied, turning in my direction. "The full battalion is supposed to make a direct assault on Cato Neimoidia, but that spreads us thin. We're only going to be able to deploy large strike teams in a few areas. The rest will be small teams targeting strategic locations across the planet. But for some of the more remote points, typical combat packages aren't good enough, and the aerials in the 27th and the other companies don't quite make up the numbers needed. Assaulting proposed to Wolffe that they recruit some troops from the larger assault forces, ones with some experience that could follow orders, place them under his command, and supply aerial combat packages to those recruits to make up the difference."

"So you picked me?" I guessed. He nodded. I shook my head in denial. "Sir, I'm just an assault trooper from your fireteam. I have basic aerial training at best. There have to be better options."

"Which is why Assaulting is going in as an aerial, not an ARC for this assignment. You'll be reporting directly to him," I started to raise my hands in objection, but he placed his on my shoulder before I could say anything, looking me in the eye. "I chose you because you follow orders when they're given, and you aren't afraid to try at any task thrown your way, even if it's over your head."

I sighed heavily in response. "You're my pick. Don't waste it," He told me, letting go of my shoulder. I tried my best to have a confident smile. "Plus, you get to be one of those flying monkeys with rockets. That's a fun time, believe me."

"Now that I can believe," I responded, taking in another deep breath. An aerial had been my aspiration when I was a cadet, but I never quite got the marks necessary to qualify, much less receive the formal training. On the one hand, I was finally getting the chance to rise above the station I had held for so long. A chance to make a difference. At the same time though, I knew it was because I, among a handful of others, were the last option that had a positive outcome. An afterthought, I realized. Not that it really meant anything. I was doing this whether I wanted to or not. May as well commit to it than fight it. "Alright, someone better give me a gyroscope and a target. I might be able to figure the rest out," I finally answered. Null smiled at me warmly.

"I knew you'd come around," He said. He looked between the two ARC troopers briefly, who nodded, signaling that his duty here was complete. "Now, I'm gonna go find someone to fill your spot on the fireteam. You'll be working with Assaulting and Ghoasty for the rest of this op. Copy?"

You mean working for, I thought, but saluted him nonetheless. "Sir, yes sir," I repeated. With a final look of approval on his face, the Sergeant put his helmet back on, returning to his platform inspection duty shift. I then turned my attention to the two ARC troopers, setting my helmet back down over my head to put a buffer between myself and the higher ups. "I guess I'll be referring to you as Captain, then."

Assaulting shrugged. "Only in formal or combat situations. In which case, Ghoast would be Sarge or Sergeant," He instructed. "But right now, my name will do just fine."

"Yes sir."

He smiled approvingly, placing his near-black helmet back over his head. "Keep it up, kid," He congratulated. "You passed the first test."

"Now all that's left is learning how to fly," Ghoasty added. His own helmet was back on, as well, starting towards the door. "Let's get you properly suited up."


The armory. A place of guns, explosives, armor, and about ten dozen different ways to disintegrate a droid into a fine powder in less than a second. This was only the second time I had seen it with my own eyes. The first time had been just after I finished my field training, to receive my blaster and equipment, and even then it had been for only a few brief seconds.

Regardless, it was still an impressive and rather colorful sight compared to the monochrome and fluorescently illuminated hallways that made up the rest of the ship. DC-15 blasters hung on all walls of the room, by far the most common item next to the shiny sets of clone armor. Thermal detonators, impact grenades, sonic imploders, even a few grenade launchers were laying around, all of them impressive, and each as deadly as the next, some more so. But Ghoasty and Assaulting led me past all these weapons, brushing past them with their eyes set on a small alcove of gear at the back of the room, resting inside stacks of crates. I held my breath as Ghoasty turned toward me, taking off his helmet. Assaulting opened the lid on one of the crates, and he gestured for me to peer inside.

Resting below me, in the crate, was an advanced phase II light armor set and single thrust jetpack, which itself was equipped with a missile. As if that wasn't enough, sitting beside it was a rocket launcher and fifteen rounds of ammunition, plus two scout pistols, modified for high precision. "Top of the line," Assaulting described, studying the gear for himself. "Latest generation armor technology. Everything in that jetpack, those blasters, and that launcher is the best of the best. Each one of you recruits is getting one of these packages. It'll keep you alive, if nothing else."

I let out a whistle. "This stuff seems a little above my paygrade, Assaulting."

"Well, until further notice, it's yours. Better get used to it, kid," Ghoasty said comically. Then he snapped his fingers in recognition. "Oh yeah, one more thing, before I forget…"

"There's more?"

He proceeded to slide the crate to the side, picking up a redesigned aerial helmet, painted with the 48th company emblems and, on the forehead, my snowflake insignia, along with the symbol for the aerial division. I sighed, studying the item. "That's for me?"

"It has an enhanced pressurizing system. If you want to be able to breathe at high altitudes when flying around, you're gonna need it," Assaulting said, opening up another crate and placing a jetpack on his back. "Plus, you've gotta admit, it looks pretty damn cool."

I chuckled halfheartedly. "Yeah, I suppose it does," I responded, studying the helmet I held. It was brand new, not a scratch on it. Heavier than the one I had, too, with all the enhanced armoring and pressure tech built in. The monochrome lighting gleamed off the surface of the forehead. Shiny armor, I lamented to myself. That was what new recruits are called, before their armor had some wear and tear on it. Looks like that's me, once again.

"Snow! You coming?" Ghoasty suddenly asked. I blinked, realizing the two of them had moved to the doorframe and were now waiting on me. I set the helmet back into the crate with the jetpack.

"Yes! Yes, I'm coming." I started towards the door, then froze mid stride. "I need the suit, don't I?"

The two officers laughed. "At least he figured it out before he made the door," The Sergeant joked. I feigned a smile as I returned to the large cache of gear I had just been shown to. Grabbing a backpack from the wall, I carefully placed the ammunition, armor plating, pistols, and helmet into the protective case. Then I stood, throwing it onto my back and lifting the strap on the launcher over my right shoulder. I tucked the jetpack under my left arm, and followed them to the door. Assaulting raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I responded. "You expected me to put that on while you guys were standing here?" Now it was my turn to laugh. "I'll get to that when I'm not the one people are waiting on."

The two of them exchanged a glance. "Null wasn't kidding when he said you were loyal, was he." A statement. Not a question.

"I would hope not, sir," I responded. The two of them laughed again.

"Well, let's not waste what I guess counts as your time now," He said. "I'm curious to see just how fast you get that on."

As it would turn out, I had well more than enough time to get my gear on once we got to the briefing room. Now, in the case of formal aerial training, I would be subjected to several weeks of tests and intense training sessions. That wasn't the goal here. Here, they were focused on executing a specific plan, under Assaulting's command. Extensions, or extremities, depending on how you viewed it, of his skill. Like pawns, I thought, in a game of holochess. I really wish I had a better world view sometimes.

However, I couldn't have asked for better gear. Sure, it was shiny, and I didn't like that part. But Assaulting wasn't kidding when he said it looked good. It felt good, too. Super light and unrestricting. So much so that I had punched myself in the shoulder pad after I had it on. To both my surprise and satisfaction, I felt nothing. The helmet had a strange lining on the inside, which at first I didn't get, but when I put it on I saw why. Like a second skin had been put on over me and stretched tight, the suit automatically pressurized, and I heard a whirring sound coming from the ventilators. A rebreather, I figured, designed to preserve oxygen at high altitude. I had to admire the Kaminoan engineering that went into these. The only thing they had yet to figure out was a way to completely preserve oxygen in a zero atmosphere environment, which is to say, space.

I wasn't the only one that had been conscripted into this program, either. Based on the armor decals, I could recognize a few of the other recruits from the 48th division, like Yubs. However, as for the rest of the team, I saw markings I recognized as the 27th(Shadow company), and the 60th(Recon specialists), and the signature marks of several others that I was less familiar with. Not that it mattered. We were all here for the same reason.

I clipped the twin holsters to my sides, unbuckling them to receive the blasters. Then I placed the jetpack onto my back, magnetically fastening it to the duraplastic plating. A translucent diagnostic HUD appeared across my visor, checking the jet's systems and making sure that all was in order. Once it resolved, I set the pistols in their respective places, slung the rocket launcher over my shoulder, and turned my attention back to the commanding officers while I waited for the others to finish.

Assaulting showed the faintest hint of amusement on his face, noticing that I was the first to be suited up and waiting for instruction. I just stood and waited for orders solemnly.

A few minutes passed as the ARC captain waited for the others to be most of the way suited up. Then he called for our attention. "Alright, you shinies. Eyes up."

Yubs immediately protested. "Come on, sir! We aren't shinies!"

"Your armor says otherwise, trooper," The Captain replied. Then he pulled up a tactical hologram on the projector, turning to address his team as a whole. "You boys better be listening, because I'm only going to say this once. General Plo is leading the assault on the capital city in conjunction with Commander Wolffe and a large sum of the 104th ranks. They need to be able to take it so we can use it as a forward command center, and storm the rest of the planet. Normally this would be a straightforward operation, and none of us would have needed to be here. But the Separatists actually seem like they had a pretty good idea of defensive tactics this time around. Around three klicks East by Northeast of the capital city, there's a droid reserve facility. This is where all the clankers recharge after being on patrol, and where the Seppies keep all the troops that they don't immediately need in powered down storage. I'm not talking just the B-1's. They've got everything. Supers. Commandos. Droidekas. You name it, they've got it somewhere in the racks of this compound.

"General Plo, Wolffe, and the fleet are going to engage in battle over the capital city, and try to keep whatever forces they have there grounded. During the firefight, our team is going to deploy three gunships from the main hangar, and use the cruisers as cover to get down below the fighters. The gunships are going to drop us here, in the trees. We'll take out the turrets using our rockets, and then we get up on the wall, and open fire. Our goal is to keep them boxed in.

"Keep in mind this is not a standard tactical operation. You boys are sharp. Adaptable. And you follow orders. That's why you were chosen for this team. Your new armor might be fancy, but it doesn't make you invincible. We're going to be smart, and surgical about this operation. I don't want a single man to be found dead in the field. Do I make myself clear?" The Commander demanded.

"Sir, yes sir!" We all echoed. He nodded in approval, and like he had planned it, the ship rumbled as it dropped out of hyperspace.

"Then move out! On the gunships in five!"

I knew that it was just another routine mission. After this, I would relinquish my aerial gear and return to Null's fireteam. But, as the sound of boots running and engines roaring echoed around me, some small part of me couldn't help but think:

This is my chance. This is my chance to become something better.