Captain Gabriel Anan stared at the arrayed bodies of clone troopers. They had been shot with bolts from their own blasters. Those closest to the epicenter had been cleaved and cut down by their adversary's weapon.
No. Cut down by their general's weapon.
It had all happened so fast. The order had been given, and just like that, the clones turned on their generals, their allies. Their friends.
The captain glanced down at the lightsaber he carried in his hand. It was the lightsaber of Aayla Secura, of whose body they had already recovered.
"At least Tolan went down fighting." Anan looked at the body of the white robed jedi in the center, his body placidly still, the only movement coming from the still cooling blaster holes that had been blown in him.
Varnek, his second-in-command, stood beside him. "Makes you wonder though. I thought they were friends."
"Has Commander Bly said anything yet?"
"Not a blasted word." Varnek's voice grew bitter at that. "To think he could just shoot his commander, his friend, in the back like that… I get that orders are orders but, he didn't even give her a chance."
Anan still remembered General Secura's body lying in the mud, shot in the back. He still remembered how one clone said she never even drew her weapon. She trusted them so completely. It was a mistake he was not going to make.
"Where's Cyrene?"
Varnek paused, confused for a minute before remembering who he was referring to. "She's still on the Legion."
Anan Nodded before walking forward and retrieving Tolan's lightsaber. He wasn't going to leave such a personal thing for scavengers to find and pick apart later. It was the least he could do.
Once he had retrieved the weapon, he turned on his heels and began walking away, toward his shuttle. He would only stomach this place long enough for a cremation of the bodies, then, he never wanted to be on Felucia again.
