A/N: I love inserting "shinies" into the story, (singular can be written as either "shinie," or "shiny.") These characters are the closest I'll get to ever doing a "self-insert." Shinies represent all of us with our odd mixes of anxities, covered up by confidence, humor and bluster. These troopers emerge from Kamino with an almost desperate belief they are fighting for a higher cause. What qualities distinguish the shinies who survive? We see so many clones, particularly the shiny white ones, taken out during the Clone Wars. This was one of the hardest parts of watching the show. But, some of the shinies survive, and not only survive, but they thrive. This is the story of one such clone.

# # #

"Keep monitoring those transmissions," Wolffe growled.

Rusty, the newest member of the Wolfpack, squared his shoulders and did his best not to flinch. "Understood, Commander." Did the Commander have to get right into his face when he issued orders?

"If there is so much as a crackle of static, I want to know about it."

Yes, apparently he did have to get right in his face. How was it possible he'd managed to stand even closer?

Three months into being selected for the most elite squad in the 104th, he still felt like he had to prove himself everyday. Three months after their last communications specialist had been speared through by an SBD, in the same battle Rusty performed an accidental bit of heroics. He surely didn't have a brave bone in his body because everything that had happened that day was unintentional. He still didn't know why the Commander wanted him in his squad. "Yes, Commander, I'll-"

Rusty cut himself off, all thoughts of acknowledging the order forgotten as a scrap of sound caught his attention. He tilted his head to the side as he listened intently, a habit he'd picked up from following around Boost. (He'd been warned hanging around with Boost would result in nothing but bad habits, but he didn't seem to have a choice. Sinker and Boost insisted on taking him everywhere, like an adopted little tooka kitten.)

But, right now, he was ignoring the rest of the squad around him. They were all focused on doing last-minute checks of their extraction gear. Rusty's full attention was on the garbled signal coming through his helmet comms. He tapped the controls on the comms booster, and then hissed with frustration tryingand then his stomach sank as he lost the signal entirely.

No, no, no, he wasn't going to lose this signal. This was something. He was sure of it. Not just some random bit of radio garbage from the Seppies.

His hands flew over his wrist controls as he frantically searched all bandwidths, trying to find any trace of the weak signal.

The Commander was now staring at him intently. But, Commander Wolffe wasn't wholly unreasonable. He stepped back to give Rusty some breathing room, arms folded across his chest as he waited.

Sinker and Boost had finished their gear checks and were setting up scanning equipment. They had the locator signal for Marshall Commander Cody, but couldn't get a lock on it due to the all of the interference from the downed building.

Rusty cut his connection to the squad chat before he could be distracted by the background chatter as the team set up their equipment.

There it was again. So faint.

Rusty had received extra training at Kamino in comms, but had then been switched over to 'medtech' after the Battle of Geonosis made it clear the GAR would need a lot more medics. He hadn't minded being dual-certified, figuring it would mean he would get a more interesting posting, but none of that happened. While his squad had been sent off to join the 104th at Abregedo, he was sent to Coruscant. All that training and he wasn't going to see any combat! Serving at ArmyMed hadn't been all terrible. He'd made a few friends, met some interesting troopers who'd passed through, and it had ultimately saved his life. None of his squad survived the Battle of Abregedo. In what was probably the stupidest decision of his life, he put in for a transfer to the 104th when he saw there were openings for troopers. He was sure he would get a junior medic posting, but arrived to find he was assigned to be regular infantry. All of that extra training and he still ended up to be just another grunt with no opportunity to showcase his skills.

He liked his new squad and they left him alone in his free time to read his datapad. Rusty had originally intended to continue studying the medic's manual, in the event a junior posting opened up. But, he quickly discovered he was still more interested in the conveyance of military information. He read every manual and spec he could lay his hands on. It was a good way to pass the time during long transport times and keep himself calm before deployment in battle. It was easier to think about MultiNode communications links than getting his head shot off in battle. He continued to take certification tests, even though he doubted he'd ever be anything more than regular ground infantry.

He didn't realize his colorful background, and diligence in improving himself, had caught the eye of Sergeant Sinker. It was the dream of every regular trooper in the 104th to make it into the Wolfpack, the most elite squad in the 104th, but they were just ten men out of 9,216 in Commander Wolffe's command. As Rusty figured it, he'd serve out his days with his current squad, maybe last another year or two, and get taken out by a droid somewhere on a backwater planet. If he was lucky, his squad brothers would say a few words of remembrance over him.

Everything changed at the Battle of Rosaden.

It was a terrible battle. But, then again, all battles were a mess that went nothing like the carefully laid plans of their Jedi General, (who Rusty had never met), their Commander, (whom Rusty had only seen from a distance), his Captain (who intimidated Rusty to no end), and his squad sergeant, (who was actually a decent vod.) Unfortunately, his squad sergeant, Fort, got caught in a spectacular explosion shortly after the battle began. Rusty threw down his rifle, breaking all manner of regs, and tried to stop the bleeding on Fort's femoral artery. It hadn't worked and Fort died in terrible pain, while telling Rusty he was a good vod.

There was an expression one of their Mandalorian trainers had one used about 'not gone, merely marching far away,' but Rusty couldn't remember the words. Their trainers hadn't been too forthcoming about sharing their culture with them, not like they were with some of the higher ranking clones. Rusty wanted to tug one of Fort's armor pieces free, to offer it up to the squad as a remembrance of their sergeant, but his armor was a mess. So, he grabbed Fort's blaster instead, as it was the only part of his kit that still seemed decently intact.

Battles were messy, awful, chaotic and while his Kamino training prepared him very well to shoot droids, none of his training had prepared for the pure chaos battle of actual battle.

Rosaden was the most chaotic battle to date with their 'easily defensible' position suddenly overrun and droids coming at them from all angles. He was sure this was the backwater planet where he would meet his end. Fort's blaster ended up saving his life when his own overheated and he ended up tossing it aside. Fort was dead. He had no idea what had happened to the rest of his squad, since he'd been too focused on trying to save the sergeant. Now, his entire existence was down to simply shooting droids as fast as he could manage until his final remaining blaster overheated, too.

He had no idea how or when he ended up fighting next to the General, the Commander and the Wolfpack. He'd been so focused on taking down as many droids as possible, he hadn't been looking at who the troopers in grey were around him. He was dimly aware of the hum and whir of blue that represented the General's lightsaber, (and, at any other time he might have been in awe of watching their Jedi in action.) But, he was so laser-focused on shooting droids, that he didn't pay attention to any of those things.

Since he had no thoughts to his own survival, he'd been acting on pure instinct when he'd reached out and caught a thermal det lobbed toward General Koon. It was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever done, but he reached out with his left hand and grabbed the thing like it was a bolo ball. His brain caught up with his action a microsecond later, and he tossed it away in a panic. He'd like to say it was good aim on his part that tossed it directly into the large group of SBDs coming up on their flank. But, Rusty didn't think he deserved any such credit. Who catches a thermal det? Gah! It was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Not only that, but then throws it at a walking army of metal?! How much time had he spent studying the deadly effects of shrapnel injuries?!

The det exploded in the front wave of the SBDs, causing a chain reaction that took out the rest of them. Realizing in horror what he'd done, the moment he lobbed the thing, Rusty cried out a warning. Or, at least he thought he did. Maybe he was shouting internally. He was definitely in the biggest panic of his life.

Somehow the General heard him. His keen gaze focused on him for a fraction of a second, before pivoting toward the blast wave. In the most incredible fekkin' thing Rusty had ever seen in his life, General Koon raised up a hand and deflected both the explosion and the deadly rain of shrapnel headed their way. None of them had been seriously injured by metal bits. All credit on that front went to the General and had nothing to do with Rusty.

This had been the largest wave of ground forces coming at them, and it gave the Commander an opening to call in air support. The battle ended shortly after. He was reunited with his squad, which miraculously survived, minus Fort, and he numbly boarded a transport with them.

He was sick with dread after the incident, sure he was going to be kicked out of the 104th. How could he have been so stupid? So reckless? So thoughtless about the safety of his General and fellow troopers? His mind ran through every possible punishment. He deserved to be sent back to Kamino.

They spent the next two weeks doing mercy missions on the planet, helping a civilian population severely impacted by Separatist occupation. Rusty had been temporarily put in charge of his squad, which he was sure was some sort of mistake. He didn't want to cause any more trouble, so he figured he would wait until they returned topside to straighten everything out. There had to be someone more fitting to lead the squad than him; like Pan, Tag, Track, Drum, Rev, Cal, Threefer, or Frunk. Basically, anyone of the surviving members of the squad. OK, maybe not Frunk, but still, there was no way his appointment as squad leader was anything but a flimsy error. He did his best to keep squad morale high, as he thought this was the best way he could honor their former sergeant.

They made it back to the ship without further incident, which was something of a miracle, considering small pockets of groups of remaining droids kept trying to snipe them off. But, Rusty had noticed the droids had a tendency to telegraph their movements on a low-frequency bandwidth that was relatively easy to pick up on their helmet scanners. His squad stayed alive by monitoring these frequencies and he shared this information with the other squad leaders. After all, it was the sort of thing Sergeant Fort would have done, and Rusty was just trying to emulate the best fekkin' Sergeant he'd ever had.

He was summoned to the Commander's office shortly after their return to the ship. He'd already packed his few possessions into his go bag and set it aside. No sense in wasting time.

When he arrived in the Commander's office, Wolffe stared him down. Rusty knew he deserved whatever rebuke he would receive, but he decided at that moment he would leave with dignity. It is what Sergeant Fort would have done. He refused to flinch, even as the Commander walked around him and stared him down with his famed glacial stare.

To his surprise, the Commander made a low note of approval in his throat. "You saved General Plo with quick thinking and impressively fast reflexes. You also took out an entire squad of SBDs, turning the tide of the battle. Well done, trooper."

His brain was having difficulties processing what the Commander was trying to say to him. The commander hardly ever issued words of praise. He decided to err on the side of formality and barked out a crisp: "Thank you, sir!"

The commander made a dismissive wave. "Enough of that. You can call me Wolffe. The other pack members do."

Wait– what?

He must have been clearly telegraphing his confusion because the Commander actually chuckled. "You weren't expecting this, were you? We've had an opening since we lost Specialist Setter at the Battle of Pargreer. Gather your kit and move over to the Pack quarters. There is a bunk waiting for you."

Rusty stared at the Commander for another impossibly long moment, not daring to hope the commander was saying what he thought he might be saying. "The Pack quarters, sir? But, that's where the..." his voice cracked, "...the Wolfpack stays, sir."

The Commander tilted his head back and laughed. It was such a strange sight Rusty stared. He didn't know the commander was capable of laughter. "I look for troopers of unusual grit and exceptional character. You, Rusty, fit the bill. Welcome to the Wolfpack."

The air left Rusty's lungs in a whoosh and he tried to speak but couldn't. So, he settled for nodding in acknowledgement and snapping off the sharpest salute he could manage. He quickly retreated from the commander's office before he could embarrass himself further. The Wolfpack quarters? He didn't even know where they were, other than a vague knowledge they were separated from the rest of the crew areas and in the forwardmost section of the ship, (closest to the command areas.)

But, he didn't need to worry about finding his new barracks. Sergeant Sinker was waiting for him outside of the Commander's office and escorted him back to his quarters to pick up his gear. Somewhere along the way, they also picked up Boost, and the two kept up an animated conversation. Rusty wasn't sure if he was supposed to join in, but in truth, he didn't hear half of it. His brain was still having difficulties processing.

His squadmates leapt to their feet when he walked in with two members of the Wolfpack. Sergeant Sinker announced his new assignment and his squad stared at him with widened eyes before breaking out into cheers. He was flabbergasted and managed to mutter off something about Threefer being a good choice as squad leader. Threefer led the men in another cheer for him.

The reality that this was for real was slowly starting to sink in and he didn't want to go. "Goodbye brothers. You've… uh… been a great squad." He couldn't think of anything else, and Boost seemed satisfied with this and ushered him out of the room between him and Sinker.

And, so, Rusty's new life began as a member of the Wolfpack.

Since they'd just finished a deployment, the entire Wolfpack, minus their commander, were waiting for him in the squad barracks. He was hit with so many pounding back slaps of welcome he thought his armor would crack. He did a number of shots of the worst homemade swill he'd ever tasted, brewed on the flightdeck by their pilot, Warthog. After a few sips of Hog's brew, his taste buds went completely numb.

Comet, who was the designated artist in the pack, helped him repaint his kit from standard grunt 104th to the custom paint job of the elite Wolfpack. Rusty was glad Comet was doing most of the painting. He still felt like an imposter, but several more shots pressed into his hand by Warthog helped take the edge off.

With way too much feedback from drunken brothers, he came up with a design for his own helmet. Comet did the painting, which was probably for the best, because Rusty was seeing everything in triplicate. He described to Comet an intricate design combining a medic's symbol, stylized radio waves, and Aurebesh "F" for Sergeant Fort. Boost burst out laughing and insisted the "F" be very emphasized so the droids would think the "F" was directed at them. As drunk as they were, Comet's design made sense to all of them and Rusty instantly loved his new helmet paint.

While the elite Pack had always seemed aloof when he was regular 104th, now that he was a member, he found the opposite was true. He was surrounded by brotherly love and warmth on a level he hadn't felt since he'd lost his original squad to a training accident on Kamino.

Even three months later, he was still confused as to why he had been chosen. But, since the Wolfpack was willing to take a chance on him, Rusty was determined not to let any of them down. Even if he was deliberately ignoring all of them as he focused on coaxing the ghost of a signal into something more coherent.

"... immediate …unknown….Power… failing…"

He switched the message from internal to external comms and replayed it. Judging by Commander Wolffe's sudden and visceral reaction, this was no random trooper trapped beneath the rubble desperately calling for evac. The signal was coming from the marshall commander. Since the commanders had all trained together, this would make him one of Commander Wolffe's squad mates. It was strange to think of the commander as having a squad. He always seemed like such a… lone wolf. But, in this moment, Rusty suddenly realized he was someone who cared about his brothers, too; very deeply, if his current reaction were anything to go by.

Calling upon every trick he'd ever learned about comm signals, Rusty modulated and remodulated the comms wavelength.

'Come on, come on…' he muttered to himself, trying to coax the weak signal into something more audible. In a burst of luck, likely more from one of the Seppie jammers going offline than any particular skill on his part, the signal completely cleaned up. Suddenly, they were able to hear the entirety of what seemed to be a pre-recorded message set on loop.

"This is Commander Cody of the 212th calling for an immediate evac….I am here with General Windu. His condition is unknown at this time…. Our current location is unknown, but we were near the south entrance when the building.. when… the building… came… down. Power… failing…The air… is…bad…"

The commander made a slight looping gesture with his index finger and Rusty immediately played the message again. While it played through, he took the time to think through next steps.

Commander Wolffe had gone very still as he listened to the message. During the three months he'd been part of the Wolfpack, Rusty had learned to read the commander's body language. This is exactly how Wolffe looked when he was formulating a plan of attack. Would it be out of line to suggest a path forward?

He decided to blurt out his idea before he lost his nerve. "Commander, this signal is very weak, but we can still make use of it to-"

Boost cut him off before he could finish. "What the shiny is trying to say is we can combine it with-"

Wolffe made an impatient gesture and cut Boost off. "Let him speak, Boost."

Rusty blinked rapidly to get over his surprise and tried not to stumble over his words. "Sir, I believe Boost and I are on the same wavelength. We haven't been able to triangulate the Commander's location using his tracking ping alone, however if we combine that data with the source of this signal, it should be enough to give us a very accurate extraction point." While he'd be on the receiving end of many of Boost's practical jokes, the senior Wolfpack trooper had also made a point of taking Rusty with him whenever possible. He couldn't have asked for a better mentor. "I could use your help. Can you help me boost the signal?"

Wolffe snorted, the sound surprising both troopers. "How do you think he got his name? He started out doing comms."

Oh.

Boost chuckled and slapped Rusty on the back. Why were they always doing that? He was sure he had bruises from it.

The senior Wolfpack trooper tapped his datapad into the comm booster, splicing them together with a complex series of wiring that Rusty hadn't even known was possible. "Signal boosted, sir." There was a smirk in his voice. Rusty knew this was going to be another of those stories, told at his expense, over Hog's awful rotgut. (Based on the taste, Rusty was started to suspect the main ingredient was LAAT fuel.) But, since he'd now developed a taste for the Wolfpack signature brew, he was actually looking forward to it.

Wolffe slapped Rusty hard on the back. "Good job, rookie."

He stepped away and began barking outdoors to the rest of the pack, issuing new orders on digging out the missing command officers.

As Rusty worked side-by-side with Boost, triangulating more precise coordinates to feed to the rest of the team, the senior Wolfpack member chuckled again. "You know I think he actually likes you."

# # #

Rex was leaning sideways against a stack of munitions, using Fives' shoulder as an uncomfortable pillow, when the call came in from Ponds. He hadn't meant to fall asleep with his face smushed in his brother's pauldron, but they'd both agreed to take a short break and too many hours without sleep had caught up with him. He startled awake, earning an annoyed look from Fives, and fumbled for his comlink. He was normally good at snapping to instant wakefulness, but it had been exhausting three days trying to put their forces back together again after their devastating first battle. He dropped his comlink in his clumsy half-awake state, decided to leave it, and instead slapped at his wristcomm. "This is Rex." Or, at least that was a close approximation to what he said. It may have come out more as a jumbled 'ississsssex."

Fives doubled over with laughter but was quickly silenced by a sharp elbow into his side and an annoyed look from Rex.

"The Wolfpack located a signal. Forwarding now." Without preamble, Ponds forwarded a message. Fives immediately sobered up as they both listened to the message.

Adrenaline surged through Rex's frame as he recognized his vod's voice from the first syllable, chasing away any vestiges of exhaustion.

"This is Commander Cody of the 212th calling for an immediate evac…."

Echo, two cups of caf in hand, hovered nearby. They must have been at the end of their 'rest' period anyway if Echo had been sent over to wake their sleeping shebs up.

"Play it again," Rex demanded, recording the messaging on his bucket cam, so he could replay privately again and again. He hoped it wouldn't be the last time he heard Cody's voice. As soon as he finished, he launched into Ponds. "When did this message originate?"

"Near as we can tell, over two hours ago."

"Two hours?! They're running out of air!"

"I am well aware."

"How close are you to finding him?"

"Finding them, Rex. We're missing Cody, my Captain, Nash, and General Windu. We're deploying teams now. But, the section they are in is not stable. We have to shore it up before we can get them out."

"He may not have that kind of time!" Rex snapped, and then instantly regretted taking out his frustration on his brother.

Ponds didn't snap back, although Rex wouldn't have blamed him if he did. "If we go in the wrong way, the building will come down on them. There are no shortcuts here, Rex."

Rex pushed out a breath. "I'm sorry. That was out of line. I know you're doing all you can." A warm cup of caf was pressed into his hand as Echo sank down on the other side of him, silently offering support. Fives squeezed in tighter on the other side of him.

"The supports on this structure are a mess. But, if anyone can get them out alive, it's Wolffe." He paused and Rex sensed he wasn't going to like what came next. "We've been given a shortened time frame from High Command."

"How short?"Rex hated that his voice came out so clipped.

"New orders came down from High Command. We have another two hours for the rescue op and then we have to move out. We've been ordered to move out for the shipyards- with or without our missing men. The 104th has been ordered to back us up."

Why wasn't Rex surprised that GAR High Command was willing to give up both a Commander and a General as collateral damage?

"Ponds, you can't-"

"It's not up to me, Rex! If I could, I'd send every trooper under my command down there to dig them out. But, it was made very clear to me, these orders came down from the Chancellor himself. He feels the shipyards are of critical strategic importance and we cannot afford to delay any longer. You have your orders and I have mine."

The Chancellor.

Something about all of this was nagging at his gut, but he didn't have time to analyze any of it.

"Rex, you know I don't want them behind, but the Chancellor is right. Our mission here is of paramount importance. And, I can't disobey orders."

That was the crux of it, wasn't it?

Orders.

From birth, they had been taught they could not disobey orders from a superior officer. And, once again they were being given orders that seemed to place brothers last. Except, this was different. High Command, a military structure in which the Chancellor had the ultimate authority, also seemed willing to toss aside General Windu.

That was… odd.

Rex had always seen the clones as secondary to the Jedi. All clones did. Whether he wanted to think this way or not, this tenet had been deeply ingrained in him at Kamino. Their lives were expendable and Jedi lives were not.

Why would the Chancellor be willing to toss aside General Windu and not give him a chance to be rescued? Anaxes was a critically important military campaign, but General Windu was a senior-ranking member of the Jedi Council.

Something wasn't right here.

"We'll do all we can in the next two hours. But, when that time is up, I have to pull our forces."

Rex heaved out a sigh. "Understood." He didn't understand, because there was something about these orders that didn't make sense. But, what else could he say? He hesitated for a fraction of a second too long, before realizing Ponds was waiting for him to say something else. Maybe some confirmation things were alright between them. "Eh…keep me posted, then. I.. know you're doing all you can. I appreciate the update." It was the best he could manage. It wasn't Ponds' fault this situation was so kriffed up. "Rex out."

He closed his eyes and thunked his head back against the crate behind his head, spilling his hot caf onto his glove. He couldn't feel either the heat or the wetness. Their gloves were too well-designed to withstand thermal forces. He almost wished he could feel the pain, anything that could distract him from what he was feeling about Cody.

Injured. Suffocating. Trapped. And, about to be left behind by his own brothers.

On either side of him, Fives and Echo scooted in just a little bit more tightly, which he hadn't thought possible since they'd already sandwiched him in. His armor creaked as they pressed up against him, but he appreciated the gesture. He tried to raise his arm to finish off his caf, but was too tightly hemmed in. "Fives," he grumbled. His brother backed off, only slightly, a look of concern in his deep, brown eyes as he studied Rex.

Rex sighed and quickly tossed back his caf, not caring how it scalded his throat as it went down. As soon as he finished, Fives handed Rex his half-finished cup, which Rex accepted with a grateful nod. On his other side, Echo pressed a rations bar in his hand, already unwrapped and ready to eat. His brothers didn't speak, just allowed him to finish the meal in peace.

Rex sighed as he finished off the last bite of the rations bar. "Thanks."

"You know we're always here for you, Rex," Fives said quietly.

"I do. Now, get the fek off me because we have a battle to win."

Echo took his empty caf cups and ration wrapper and Fives hauled Rex to his feet with such vigor it almost threw both of them off-balance. Rex met Fives' eyes, trying to be annoyed with the over-exuberant ARC, but Fives gave him a small grin that somehow reminded Rex of everything that was right with the brotherhood. "You're an di'kut," Rex grumbled, reaching down to retrieve his discarded comlink. He slapped it back onto his belt, where it adhered with a magnetic click.

"Yes, but I'm the kind of di'kut that wins battles," Fives said, straightening his pauldron, and adjusting his holster.

Together they headed off to do a final inspection before the second siege, now just hours away. There was nothing more he could do for Cody now.

# # #

A/N: The original version of Chapter 74 (titled: "Windu of Opportunity") swelled to 30 pages. (Cody and Windu, in particular, would not stop talking.) I decided to divide the chapter up into readable sized-chunks and I'll be posting the rest of it over the next week.

The term "lone wolf" is a popular one in our culture. It is a bit of a misnomer. A wolf will sometimes leave the pack to hunt, but they will be welcomed back into the pack when they return. Wolves are highly social animals that live in packs.