In the hangar on the South Side of Tipoca City, a large freighter was unloading. Troopers paced back and forth, helping droids move crates on and off. The sound of Gonk droids was prevalent, and the scrape and bang of metal was heard. A Kaminoan man oversaw the noisy operation, data pad in hand. Shipments of plastoids, durasteel, and dedlanite were going to the left, while food, medical supplies, and cloths went on the right. The business was enough to distract even the most attentive guard, allowing the silent Kyuzo man dressed in black and grey armour, cloak and backpack with a blaster in hand, and his companions, a Zabrak male in a brown tunic with a large vibro-axe strapped to his back and a Quarren wearing a chest plate and holding a rifle, to sneak through the shadows of the crates.

Holding up a hand, the Kyuzo halted his companions as two clones walked through an open set of doors. Stealthily, he slipped out of the hangar and into the halls, his companions not far behind. They crept forward, hiding behind wall supports at an intersection to allow a patrol to pass. Crossing hastily, they entered a storage room filled to the brim with blasters, rifles, and ammunition.

Vandar, the Kyuzo, retrieved the holo-map from his pocket, holding it up in his green hand. Turning it on with a few buttons, a projection of the facilities on the South side came up. A red dot pulsated in a different area, near the centre structure. The cloning facility. Specifically, the DNA vault.

"Plot ze path," Vandar said in his native accent. In response, a red line formed from their current location and to the point of interest.

"That's a direct path," the brown Zabrak named Kuzin observed in his deep, scratchy voice. "There's too many open halls and check points; we'll be spotted quickly."

"I suggest we cut around through the ventilations," Krac the Quarren proposed, tentacles on his face twitching oddly. "It'll take more time, but there's less risk of getting caught."

Vandar scratched his head, thinking. "We will take ze vent from zis room into here," he pointed out a supply area. "After zat, we move through dese hallz and into here. From zere is the shortest yet safest route to ze Vault. I have already sent ze drone to communications to block zeir comms."

"Our route passes by a training room," Krac warned, examining a marked room on the map. "Might be lots of clones."

"I ain't worried 'bout a bunch of brand-new cadets," Kuzin scoffed.

"Alright, Room 12 it is," Krac said, hefting his axe. "I'm glad this job is paying well. This is gonna be 'fun.'"

The door whooshed open, and two clones stepped in, fully armoured. They were shocked to see the three bounty hunters crouched by a shelf. "Hey! What're you-?!"

They were cut off when Vandar dashed across the room at a speed only a Kyuzo would know, kicking one trooper to the side and wrapping his arms around the other one in a chokehold. His strangling cries soon ended as his lifeless body slumped to the ground. Meanwhile, Krac loomed over the other one, axe held high.

"No! No!"

Gradually, the clones of Disaster Squad came to while in the CCP, most lying on the benches, helmets off. The other squads were already gone, most likely to their barracks to clean up.

"Ugh," Tunnel groaned, rubbing his face and sitting up. "We lost, didn't we?"

Chase was talking with Hotshot in the corner, having woken up earlier. He looked over with a smile. "There wasn't supposed to be a 'win' to that exercise. The point was to last as long as we could."

"And the squad that lasts the longest gets to join Fang Company?" Recoil asked, sitting up as well. The other clones were all up by this point, looking at Chase with questions in their eyes.

"That'sss an apt assumption," Arjhan Ki'don said, walking in with the ARC Troopers behind him. Joystick and Dusty, along with the third guy, Shuriken, followed closely. The clones all stood and saluted. "At easse. Commander Raid iss here to tell you of your resultsss."

Raid stepped forward, looking them over. Hopeful stares, tired eyes, defeated gazes, and expectant looks were all dispersed amongst the clones. He took a deep breath. "Men of Disaster Squad, as you well know, this was a test of attrition, to see how long your squad lasted against a nearly endless horde of droids. I will say you all exhibited the skills that soldiers need, and you proved your grit against this simulation. While some of you need to work on restraint and discipline." Many eyes were turned to Hotshot and Wedge. The former mentioned was grinning like the Cheshire cat, while the latter frowned grumpily. Raid continued. "With time, I expect you'll be a fine unit."

"Oh, come on!" Joystick interrupted. "Save the speech and tell them their results. Can't you see they're all antsy?"

Raid rolled his eyes beneath his helmet. "Disaster Squad, your time was six minutes, eight seconds, making you the highest time by one whole minute." The troopers were silent, staring in blatant shock at the commander.

"How?" CT 4459 questioned incredulously, holding a hand to his head. "We... one whole... really?"

Awe stepped forward. "It's true. Thanks to Hotshot, your squad stayed in the game long enough to not only secure the victory but make us run out of droids. Your victory was complete. Also, your strength of character as a group and your instructor's recom-"

"HOTSHOT?!" Wedge blurted in a rage. "He did what and how?!"

Hotshot shot a smug look over at the burly clone. "That's right, while you were busy taking nappity-nap on the floor like a big baby, I was securing the victory. Booyah for me!"

"Yes, and we believe that you should have the winners' reward," Shock said, removing his helmet and smiling. Awe did the same but looked a little miffed.

The troopers all converge on Hotshot at once, cheering and shouting, some with fists raised in the air and others patting backs or punching shoulders. Wedge was slow to join the celebration, looking peeved at Hotshot's sudden success, though the revelry was infectious, and he joined in as well. The members of the Garrison took their helmets off, smiling at the scene.

Duro thought it would be a regular, boring patrol down the uneventful halls of Kamino. He and his buddy, Skippy, marched dutifully, inspecting rooms and making sure nothing was amiss in Area 51 of Tipoca City, as it never was.

But then it was.

"Hey, what's that?" Skippy asked, pointing to a janitorial closet in the wall. Something was slowly seeping out from under it. Something dark.

"I dunno," Duro replied, approaching the door slowly. He clipped his carbine to his belt as he crouched, fingering the substance with his gloved hand. He heart stopped when he brought his fingers up. Standing hastily, he opened the door. Skippy gasped audibly when something landed on the floor with a loud thump.

"V-Verin?" he asked, trembling at the horrible sight that was a young cadet.

Duro averted his eyes from the grizzly sight, feeling like retching. "We've got to sound the alarm." He held down his comm button, ready to report, but all he heard was static. "Blast, something's wrong with comms."

Skippy gripped his carbine tightly, glancing up and down the halls. "Who do y-you think did this?"

"I don't know, but it was a blade. A big one. We need to sound the alarm and find Commander Jargon."

Duro and Skippy dashed off in the direction of the nearest control panel.

"So," Hotshot began wriggling his way through the group and towards the ARC Troopers. "Are we in?"

"Yeah, you're in!" Joystick laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "We're going to have so much fun. Welcome to the Garrison!"

"Awesomeness!" CT 22-7776 exclaimed, ambling over.

Dusty titled his head, looking at him with a mischievous face. "What's your name, brother?"

"Er, CT 22-"

Dusty waved both his arms hazardously in dissatisfaction. "No, no, no, no, no, no! You don't get how this works, do you shiny? I ask you for your name, and you say anything that's not a number."

"I don't-"

"Whatever, I'll give you one," he interrupted with a smirk. "You threw that rifle pretty dang well. Maybe Arms? Like, strong arms?"

"Well, I don't-"

"Maybe Tossy!"

He blinked in horror. "But-"

"Oh, oh, I know! How about- mrmph!"

Dusty was cut off by Shuriken's hand being clamped over his mouth, making a slapping noise.

"How about we let him decide, huh Dusty?" Shuriken asked rhetorically, not removing his hand even as the pilot squirmed and licked it. The sniper looked to the shiny with a forced grin. "How 'bout it?"

CT 22-7776 thought for a moment about throwing objects. He did like tossing things, and he had the upper body strength to do it well and far, like how he had chucked the blaster. He smiled bashfully and said in a small voice: "How about 'Chuck?'"

"Chmmrph?!" Dusty tried unsuccessfully to say, struggling under the vise-like grip of his squad-mate.

"That's a great name," Joystick approved. "Welcome to the crew, Chuck!"

"Chmmrph?!" Dusty tried to yell once more, hampered by Shuriken, who looked sternly at him.

"It's a great name. Now, will you be civilised if I let you go?"

Dusty shook his head angrily. "Uh, mruh fphmrrsh."

"I'll rip your mouth off if you aren't," Shuriken threatened. The pilot nodded vigorously, eyes pleading. Shuriken, satisfied, released his mouth. Dusty's face was red where the sniper had clamped his hand, leaving a mark.

Dusty patted his face carefully, as if checking whether his mouth was still intact. "Yeah, Chuck. Great name," he muttered halfheartedly.

"Rule number one," Shock said with a smirk. "To join, you need a real name. Anyone else in need of one?"

Out of the group a trooper with grey hair was shoved forward, stumbling slightly. Raid chuckled. "What do you want to be called, 4459?"

"I, er, I'm not sure, sir."

Joystick looked at the others. "Hey! What is something about this guy that defines him?"

"He's desperate to leave Kamino!" Recoil volunteered. Raid looked at the freshly blushing trooper.

"Is that true?"

He gulped. "Yessir. I... have never seen anything except the oceans and the labs and barracks and... I want to see land, and not on a holo. Real dirt, real trees, and real rocks."

"Oh yeah?" Dusty asked with an amused smile. "You'll get tired of them sometime."

Awe brought a hand under his chin to think. "Dirt... trees... rocks... Rocky. I'll name you Rocky."

The trooper looked pleased. "I'll take it. Thank you, sirs."

Arjhan clacked his axe on the floor to get everyone's attention. "Now that you're ready to ship out, I take it it'sss high time you pick out your weaponsss."

"Really?" Recoil's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "You mean we get real weapons for once?!"

"Once, and for ever after."

Recoil pumped his fist. "What're we waiting for, then? Let's-"

Earsplitting alarms filled the air, making all of the clones flinch. Lights turned red, casting a different hue upon the room. All conversation and joy died in an instant as eyes turned to their commanders.

"The attack alarms?!" Dusty yelped, looking in all directions.

"We mussst be under attack," Arjhan said with a snarl. "We need to hurry to the armoury. Come." The dragon folk man took off at a sprint, and the entire clone unit followed without question, putting on their helmets as they ran.

Troopers dashed around the security control room, yelling about the downed comms. Computers flashed red, showing downed systems in the southern sector. Just minutes after the murdered cadet Verin was found, two trooper bodies were located near hangar G4, one being decapitated. Commander Jargon, in his armour decorated in gray and with the Kaminoan symbol, and helmet visor matching the clour scheme, stood near Jedi General Shaak Ti, a Togruta woman who was tasked by the counsel to oversee the production of the clone troopers on Tipoca City. She held her hands clasped behind her back, listening with concern as trooper reported another death to her in the freighter that had just docked around ten minutes ago. The small security task force had already deduced that the intruders entered from that ship, but who they were was still a mystery.

"Commander!"

He turned to see Duro and Skippy, two of his troopers. "Good to see you. Have you gotten in contact with communications?"

Duro shook his head. "Sir, the detail that went there hasn't reported back."

"They must've been killed by the intruders," he muttered. "It's occupied by the enemy. Alright you two, go grab six other troopers and meet back here. I'll lead an attack to take it back."

"Sir, yes sir!" Skippy said in a weak voice as he and his brother turned and ran off. Shaak Ti walked over.

"Commander, what is it?" She asked with a faint accent.

"The communications room has been captured. I'm going to lead a team to take it back."

She nodded. "Good. Communication is critical in the crisis. I'll divert several teams to the DNA vault to bolster the guards. We're also ordering the city to be put on high alert."

Jargon nodded as Dura and Skippy returned with some other troopers. "Alright men," he addressed his soldiers. "We're going down to communications. You are free to engage whoever is down there. Stay frosty and check your fire for potential captives."

"Sir, yes sir!" They responded in unison. As Jargon prepared to leave, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Be careful, Commander," Shaak Ti cautioned him. "We don't know what we're dealing with."

"Sir, I'll be fine. I'll comm back when the mission is complete."

She nodded before releasing him, and he led his troopers at double time into the halls.

"Alright troopers, grab your gear," Raid said as they entered the armoury. Racks filled to the brim with blasters lined the walls and formed aisles. Helmets, breastplates, shoulder and knee pads, and boots abounded.

"Let's go!" Recoil said, materialising beside the Z-6s. "Don't mind if I do."

Mike, Rocky, Nerd, and Hotshot retrieved carbines each, while Evals, Tunnel, Speedo, and Chuck nabbed rifles. Chase found himself a set of pistols, while Wedge hovered near the RPS-6 Rocket Launchers.

"Can't use that," Hotshot cautioned him. "We're indoors, brainless."

"Like hell we are," he muttered, slinging it over his back anyway before going and selecting a Z-6.

"I know you can't see it, moron, but I'm rolling my eyes," Hotshot said sarcastically.

"I'll roll your whole kriffing head!" Wedge shot back, stepping towards him.

"Troopers!" Raid yelled, getting in between them. "Not now. We have enemies in our midst, and we can't afford in-fighting. You work together or you may end up dying together, you understand?"

"Yes... sir," they both mumbled, stepping back.

Raid sighed. "Alright. Everyone good?" Aside from the shinies, Dusty and Joystick had selected a carbine. Shuriken picked out a DC-15A in lieu of his sniper. Shock and Awe both picked out carbines to complement the hand blasters in the holsters attached to their kamas. Shock also retained three throwing knives in sheaths on a bandolier. Raid himself was armed with his standard carbine and pistols. He sorely wished he had brought his lightsaber, but his dagger would have to do instead. "Okay, let's go back to Room 12 and take up defensive positions. Once the alarm is over, we'll be where the security can find us. Stay with your battle buddies, you understand?" The troopers all paired off, leaving Chase with Arjhan. "Let's move."

They all jogged out of the room and down the hall. Raid's heart was pounding as he thought about the situation. He had barely selected a squad of shinies a few minutes ago when BOOM, they were in a potentially dangerous situation. Though having taken many leadership training sessions while working at ARC Trooper, he felt underprepared. What if he led these men to their deaths? Was this even an attack or what if it was a false alarm? Or was he just overreacting by arming a bunch of newly graduated clones? But if he didn't, and there were hostiles about, they'd all get slaughtered. Raid didn't need their deaths on his conscience too, having already lost Twitch, Slider, Scuff, and Diego. He felt guilty for it every day, a pang of regret at not having tried harder to save them. He always could picture things going differently if he had just made a different choice. Their deaths could've been avoided.

Raid was not willing to make the same mistake here, not with these troopers. They, his brothers, were counting on him. He had seen their eyes. Just because he wore the marks of an ARC Trooper and had a title, they felt like they should look up to him. He felt like fraud who hadn't earned the rank or position.

He hadn't realised how lost in his head he had gotten until they were approaching the intersection. Cursing silently, he stared intently at the door to the locker rooms across the way.

"Okay boys, we're going to set up a..." Raid's voice petered out as he came to the intersection. Down the left hall was three people running in their direction. One was a Zabrak bearing an axe, another was a Quarren with a rifle, and the last was Kyuzo holding a blaster, who was leading the group. In his offhand was a little white capsule that Raid recognised as a DNA pod. "Hostiles!" He shouted, ducking below a red bolt. He returned fire with blue one from his right blaster, which was dodged by the Kyuzo, who held up his hands in truce. His men stopped around twenty feet way, weapons ready, while the clones and the trainer took up positions opposite to them.

"Hello friends," the Kyuzo said in a heavy accent. "We don't need to fight here. If you turn around and leave, we can continue on our merry ways."

"And who are you supposed to be, greeny?" Joystick asked, carbine trained on his head.

The man smiled. "I am Vandar, and zese are my associates, Kuzin and Krac."

"What businesss do you have on Kamino?" Arjhan demanded, vibro-axe supporting him like a staff.

Vandar shook his head, his cloth face-wrap twitching like he was smiling beneath it. "Our business is our own. I suggest you move along before our business includes you."

"Hand over that DNA, and you won't feel our wrath," the draconian responded coolly, tongue flickering out in the air.

"Don't worry about that, we'll save you ze trouble," he replied, holding out his arm straight. A whooshing sound was heard as a projectile shot forward, landing near Raid.

The explosion knocked him off his feet, tumbling head over heels and crashing into the wall. He felt the extreme heat through his armour, but it did not burn him. Smoke curled around the floor as he saw the bounty hunters charging, exchanging fire with Wedge, Chase, Speedo, and Shuriken. Blaster bolts streaked through the air in a flurry, but more distracting was Arjhan, who charge forward, around the prone clones, and engaged the Zabrak with the axe. Sparks flew as they clashed repeatedly. As the other two enemies kept running forward, Raid saw Nerd on the floor, ascension cable attached to his blaster. He fired it across the hall, hooking it to the opposite wall. Both Vandar's and Kuzin's feet caught on it, tripping them. The white capsule flew out of the Kyuzo's grip and skidded along the floor with a cringe-worthy clinking sound. It rolled in front of Hotshot, who was on his knees. The trooper grabbed it and looked up at the bounty hunters who had rolled to their feet and continued their charge.

"Run Hotshot!" Raid yelled.

Hotshot, Wedge, Chuck, and Chase fled into the locker rooms, two bounty hunters in hot pursuit. Raid hopped to his feet and gave chase, Joystick and Shuriken following. Dusty, Mike, Evals, and Rocky lay unconscious from the blast, while the rest of the troopers were dazed on the floor. Arjhan continued to duel his opponent with brutal hacks and slashes, both dancing around each other and trying to remove their respective opponent's head.