For the first time in a long time, Tech considered that he might have made a mistake.

One of the earliest things he'd learnt as a cadet was to never underestimate the enemy. He rarely did, seeing as he was intellectually superior to every other human that he'd ever met. But, standing in the valley as he listened to Captain Rex relay Krell's latest strategy, he realised that he had vastly underestimated the besalisk's malice and spite when it came to clones.

The suggested tactic wasn't reckless: it was downright imbecilic.

Tech did at least take some solace in the fact that the other regs appeared to be just as uneasy with the plan as he was.

"The casualties are gonna be high!" exclaimed the torrent company medic, the corners of his eyes creased in worry.

"Is Krell trying to get us killed?!"

"No recon? No air support? We don't know what we're up against. They have weapons we've never seen before!"

A few more of the regs grumbled unhappily, many of them shifting their feet uneasily. There were other options, so many other options, that would be preferable to marching up the gorge. Tech had sketched out a few auxiliary plans in his head, just in case they were needed. He considered sharing them with the rest of the platoon, but truthfully, he wasn't prepared to give the regs any ammunition which they could potentially use against him in the future. And besides, despite being quite ordinary, Captain Rex seemed like a relatively smart man (at least by reg standards) and he was sure the clone was well aware of the more appealing strategies.

Beside him, Hunter made a scoffing noise.

"This plan is suicidal," said his brother, taking a step forward to address the Captain and drawing the gaze of the closest troopers. "Tactically speaking, it's idiotic."

Tech was inclined to agree, and judging by the fact that several clones were also nodding, they appeared to as well. Save for one, with a blue V painted across the face of his helmet, whose hands tightened on the stock of his blaster.

"What do you know about tactics?" sneered the reg, his voice dripping with the kind of contempt that Tech only usually heard from Crosshair. "You're nothing but a shiny."

Tech expected Crosshair to be the first to react to the snide comment, but he was not surprised when Wrecker took a step forward.

"Say that again," growled the giant, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles menacingly. "I DARE you!"

The clone seemed to shrink at the challenge, shuffling backwards so that he was out of immediate punching range.

"A-all I'm saying," stammered the reg, pleasingly intimidated, "is that we're running out of time, and this is the best option."

"That is not strictly correct," stated Tech, feeling compelled to speak up. "Given the chances of an ambush or similar attack should we progress up the gorge in this manner, it would be more time efficient to travel along the ridge. Although the terrain will be harder to negotiate, our vantage point would limit the chances of any surprise attacks and as such, prevent unnecessary delays."

Tech petered off at the end, though he still had more to say. The weight of helmeted stares was more overwhelming than he had anticipated, and he found himself hunching his shoulders and nervously fidgeting with a tool on his belt.

"That's a good point," said the ARC trooper referred to as Fives, snapping his fingers and nodding his head. "If we get attacked, it'll take far longer to fight our way up the gorge than it will to skirt round."

"There's a way up the cliffs over there," added Crosshair, jabbing the muzzle of his rifle towards a spot in the distance, which undoubtedly no one but he could see.

"It'll be slow going getting up there," mused the reg with the Republic cog tattooed on his head. "But I agree it'll save time in the long run."

"But we can't disobey orders!" yelped the unpleasant clone that had spoken earlier. "General Krell-"

"-General Krell can kiss my-"

"Fives!" snapped the Captain glaring vehemently at the assembled men. "All of you! That is enough!"

A subdued hush fell across the rank and file. Tech softly cleared his throat.

"Captain, I suggest-"

"I did not ask for your suggestions," barked Rex, his brows drawn down into a scowl.

Tech snapped his mouth shut, sulky and hurt at being interrupted.

"Watch your tone," growled Hunter, his hands balling into fists. Tech subtly tucked away his data pad and prepared for a fight.

"Watch yours, Sergeant."

"Or what?!" boomed Wrecker, the amusement clear in his voice.

"That is enough!" the Captain all but screamed, his knuckles knotted where he gripped his helmet tightly to his side. "I won't say it again!"

"This plan is ridiculous," Hunter continued, raising his voice to match that of the reg. "And it's gonna get a lot of your men killed!"

"He's not wrong, Rex," chimed in the ARC trooper.

"Yeah, our casualties are gonna be off the charts if the Umbaran's attack us in the gorge," added the medic.

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Emboldened by the support of the regs, Hunter folded his arms defiantly across his chest.

"There are better ways of doing this."

The Captain's nostrils flared angrily.

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped, his eyes fierce as they bored into Hunter. "You think I don't know the likely outcome of this strategy? You think I'm too ignorant to see the flaws?"

"Then act!" said Hunter with a shrug.

Tech watched Rex as his eyes darted about the group of assembled clones. It appeared as though he were having some kind of internal battle with himself. Eventually, he sighed, and his gaze hardened.

"We have our orders. And we are acting on them, as we are duty bound to do."

Hunter shook his head and met Tech's eyes through the visor of his helmet, waiting for some kind of approval. Tech gave the barest nod, and moved closer to the rest of his squad.

"I'm taking my men up that ridge," Hunter said boldly. "And if you wanna stop me, you're welcome to try."

There was a momentary pause, while the blonde clone looked both baffled and outraged by Hunter's announcement. Then, the man reached for his pistol.

It was the slightest of movements, but even so, it stirred Tech and his brothers to immediate action. Hunter's knife was in his hand and twirling between his nimble fingers in a heartbeat. Wrecker moved forward and adopted a fighting stance as Crosshair tugged the butt of his rifle tightly into his shoulder. Tech drew his own blaster, keeping it trained on the ground, but the safety was off, and his finger caressed the trigger.

The Captain did nothing more than wrap his hand around the pistol grip, his eyes never once leaving Hunter's helmet, though judging by the slight stiffening of his back, he hadn't failed to notice the way the rest of the squad had reacted. A few of the other regs warily hoisted their weapons, though none went as far as actually training them on Tech or his brothers.

The tense stand off lasted nearly a full minute, before Rex's hand drifted to his side and a surprisingly soft look flitted across his face.

"I...I can't protect you from him if you choose this path."

Tech felt a knot of unease settle in his stomach. He had read the extensive reports filed against General Krell, and had rather downplayed them when relaying the information to the rest of his squad. He had given them an outline, enough to ensure that they remained wary around the Jedi, but not enough to frighten them. The fearful voice in his brain told him to speak up, advise Hunter against this course of action, because it would undoubtedly single them out as targets to Krell. But the more logical part assured him that taking the ridge was the most sensible plan. And he found it very difficult to argue with a logic that increased their chances of survival by at least eighty per cent.

Hunter sheathed his weapon, and Tech slowly holstered his own.

"Understood," was all Hunter said.

This truly was the best option, Tech's mind stated over and over again. He just hoped that, at the end of it all, Krell would agree.

...

Rex's nerves were wired.

The stim he'd dosed himself with earlier was still coursing through his system, elevating his heart rate and drawing a claminess to his skin beneath his armour and body glove. He was grateful for the edge it gave him because without it, he was sure he'd be too exhausted to stay upright. His hand wandered to his belt pouch, where he kept a healthy supply of stims for campaigns such as this. He rarely had to use them, seeing as General Skywalker was usually very perceptive at seeing when Rex and his men needed rest. But he had no doubt that his supply would most likely be fully depleted by the time he left Umbara. Assuming he survived that long.

It wasn't healthy, shooting himself up with synthetic adrenaline like this, he knew that, and if Kix found out he'd go berserk. But it was a necessity at this point. He needed to be strong. His men needed him to be strong.

Glancing back at the platoons, Rex's chest tightened. Back on the ridge, he'd gotten a pretty good idea of the sort of tank and artillery divisions guarding the airbase, and he knew that if the Umbaran's poured those resources into the valley, things were going to get pretty bleak. A small part of his brain reminded him that he was most likely leading his men to their deaths. That little voice got louder and louder with every step they took deeper into the gorge. Although he'd never admit it, he rather admired Sergeant Hunter's brazen disregard for orders. He was a man who put his squad's needs above everything else. Which was something Rex himself should be doing. His men's lives were more important than humouring Krell and stroking his inflated ego.

Rex was actually contemplating another tactic, when the ground beneath his feet gave a slight tremor. His fingers tightened around the triggers of his DC-17s.

"What was that?" asked Tup, who crowded a little closer to Kix.

"I dunno," replied Jesse with uncharacteristic grimness. "But it can't be good."

A gaggle of scaley, flying creatures swooped overhead, chattering away to each other as they passed above the platoons, heading back towards Krell and the others.

"They look spooked," commented one of the troopers as the animals disappeared into the gloom.

Rex groaned internally. He didn't want to imagine what might have scared the beasts. Because it probably didn't bode well for the battalion.

"Tighten up. And keep your eyes sharp."

His men did as instructed, and they'd walked maybe another dozen paces before the rock beneath their boots gave another rumble. The shock wave or whatever it was was enough that Rex had to stagger to keep his balance.

"What the-!"

The ground further down the slope erupted, sending a geyser of dirt skyward. Rex watched as Fives and his men scattered in all directions like a pack of scurryers, some being tossed into the air and others firing wildly into the column of rubble.

"Captain, what's going on?" asked Tup, his voice high and panic stricken.

Rex pulled down the view finder on his helmet, adjusting it to peer into the murk dead ahead.

"Ah! Can't see anything in this light," he grumbled, doing his best to try and focus his HUD and squinting furiously.

His problem was shortly rectified when out of the mound of earth crawled something utterly hideous. At first, Rex thought it was some kind of animal, but that theory was quickly quashed when it began firing at Fives and his men. Its body was long and armoured and articulated, and it scurried about on tiny legs like some enormous insect. The noise it made was ear piercing, a kind of mechanical roar that sent the hairs on the back of Rex's neck stirring. It burst forth, twisting madly, the turret guns on its face and back sending a stuttering stream of plasma into the fleeing clones.

"Kriffing hells!" yelped Tup loudly. "What is that?!"

The crawler spun around and mowed down a handful of Fives' men, while the rest attempted to regroup. Rex's helmet comm crackled to life, and he held his breath to listen.

"Mayday, mayday," came Fives' desperate voice, the message interspersed with the hammering of gunfire. "Rex, we need rocket launchers, now!"

Rex let put a breath, heart hammering as he turned to the men gathered behind him.

"Get those rocket launchers down there!" he barked, gesturing with his hands. "Move it, troopers!"

The artillerymen peeled away from the rest, thundering downhill and dragging the launchers from their backs as they went.

"C'mon, boys!" Rex snapped, already heading towards the fray. "Let's get down there!"

The sense of dread amplified the closer to the fighting he got. Glancing up at the ridge, where no doubt Clone Force 99 were watching, Rex couldn't help but think that perhaps he should have followed their lead.

...

Crosshair's breath was laboured as he clambered over a boulder twice as large as Wrecker.

The path winding up the side of the cliff was, in all honesty, barely a path, little more than a shallow ledge that scaled the rock face, so narrow that Wrecker had difficulty keeping his balance. If not for Hunter and his quick hands, their largest brother would have gone over the edge on several occasions. Crosshair however, was built for this terrain, narrow and nimble enough to scale with ease while the others struggled to varying degrees.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," said Wrecker, clinging to any vine, rock or root within his grasp as they continued to ascend.

"I believe this route is still preferable to advancing up the gorge," added Tech, his data pad tucked away lest he get distracted, and his goggles foggy from exertion.

Crosshair silently agreed, partly because Krell's plan was stupid and most likely would result in their deaths, but largely because it gave him the opportunity to be alone with his brothers.

His heart had practically stopped beating at the sight of them all, hale and healthy, emerging from the treeline by the road to the capital. He hadn't known whether he wanted to cry or laugh hysterically from relief at the fact that, not only were they alive, but that he wasn't alone anymore.

Swallowing down a lump in his throat that had formed at the recollection of such foreign emotions, Crosshair paused at the top of the boulder to catch his breath and scout for signs of danger.

The valley below was eerily still, the only movement being that of the regs as they continued to advance down the gully. At the far side, he could see the tower which marked the location of the air base and in the other direction, perched on the cliff top and no doubt gleefully anticipating the demise of yet more clones, stood Krell. Crosshair wondered whether the besalisk had noticed their departure from the rest of the platoons. He expected that he had not, because he no doubt would have been continually trying to hail Hunter on his comm link. Or maybe he was, and the Sergeant was keeping it quiet.

Hunter caught up first, panting heavily as he dropped to one knee beside Crosshair. The man said nothing at first, merely silently surveyed the landscape with the occasional not very subtle side eyed glance towards Crosshair.

Eventually, the scrutiny became too uncomfortable.

"Something to say?" Crosshair asked, bringing his rifle to his shoulder and peering through the scope to better view the terrain below.

Hunter turned to face him, his expression shielded by his helmet.

"Just wondering how you're doing?"

It was an innocent question, but one that knotted Crosshair's stomach regardless. To hide his discomfort, he made a snorting noise and shook his head.

"Don't need you mothering me."

Hunter apparently didn't take the hint, nor believe his feigned nonchalance.

"You sure?" he asked, voice concerned and tense. "Can't have been easy, being stuck with the regs."

Crosshair shrugged, focusing down his sights in the hopes that it might offer some distraction from the unwelcome anxiety coursing through him.

"I did what I had to do," he replied flatly.

Hunter stared at him for a moment longer, before sighing.

"Can't have been easy thinking we were dead either."

That one felt like a sucker punch to the gut. Crosshair's hands tightened around the stock of his Firepuncher to the extent that he heard the plasteel creak from the pressure. Garbled flashes of memories and emotions assaulted his mind, and he screwed his eyes shut tight for a few seconds. Now was not the time to lose control. Because it was a damned long way down.

Hunter gave him another side eye.

"For what it's worth - I'm sorry."

Crosshair did a double take. Hunter was... apologising? For leaving him with the regs? For causing him pain? For letting him spiral into an abyss of loneliness?

It was laughable. Because if anyone should be apologising, it should be Crosshair. He was the one that had abandoned them, left them for dead on that ridge and, to any outside observer, moved on. As if they didn't matter at all.

The guilt reared its ugly head once more. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. Hunter waited for a response, and when none came, he reached out a hand to grasp his brothers shoulder in a silent show of affection.

They stayed that way for a little while, until the sound of boots on rock met Crosshair's ears, and he straightened.

"We should keep moving," he said flatly as Wrecker and Tech approached.

Hunter paused to study him before nodding.

"Yeah. Still got a ways to go before we get to the top. Don't want the regs thinking-"

Hunter abruptly cut off, cocking his head to one side and stiffening. Crosshair's heart skipped a beat at the sudden reaction, because he knew from years of training with his brother exactly what it meant.

"Something's wrong," Hunter said, his voice strained. "Something's coming."

His head twisted down towards the gorge, where the regs continued to advance at a snails pace. Crosshair took a step closer to the ledge, pulling down the viewfinder on his helmet and activating the thermal setting. He saw the red pinpricks of the regs below, moving in a loose patrol formation, and a handful of smaller dots that must have been from wildlife.

And something else.

Underneath the ground, moving at an alarming speed towards the regs and with a heat signature bigger than five tanks stood end to end, was some colossal...thing.

Crosshair didn't get much time to speculate what it might be before it erupted from the surface.

"What the hell is that?!" Wrecker yelled, tugging off his helmet to get a better look.

Whatever it was, it was certainly making short work of the clones in the valley below. Crosshair watched as some of the red specks faded before his eyes, an uncomfortable dread settling over him. He took a deep breath and grimaced, sighing in resignation. He couldn't believe what he was about to suggest.

"We have to save the regs."