Chapter 42 Branches Mingled
"Good people sleep peaceably in their beds at night, only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."
George Orwell
"General, are you sure you don't want me to stay with you and pilot a fighter?"
Anakin flashed a grin askance at his captain. "Rex, you're the best at a lot of things, but flying a starfighter isn't one of them."
"With all due respect, Sir, I can fly well enough to protect your six," Rex replied.
"Broadside can do that," Anakin pointed out. "Rex, I'd rather have you planet-side in case any of the Separatists get through our blockade." He put a young, capable hand on Rex's shoulder. "You're a ground-pounder, and that's where you need to be. The entire 501st will be down there. They're going to need your leadership." He smirked. "Besides, Obi-wan would skin me alive if I held you back with me."
Rex had made his suggestion, but pleading or batting the issue back and forth was not something a battalion first-in-command did. He nodded smartly. "Very well, General."
"Good. Now, let's go get some grub. I'm starving. That meeting went on forever."
It was not uncommon for Anakin to invite his captain to join him for a meal. Anakin liked to visit the Resolute's mess hall on a regular basis. He liked to make his presence known among the men who served under him, and one of the best ways to get to know them was to break bread together.
Now three days into their voyage to Kamino, at least a dozen planning briefings deep, things were starting to coalesce into a final plan. Not that any plan was ever truly final; the enemy always had ways of mucking things up and forcing even the best-laid plans to be revised and even sometimes cast aside in their entirety.
This last meeting had determined that Jedi Generals Kenobi, Baddurt, and Surdi would join Jedi General Shaak-Ti on the surface of Kamino and head up the ground forces. General Skywalker would remain in space with the majority of the 212th's aerospace combat arm, augmented by destroyers and fighters from the 9th and 12th Sector Armies rapid reaction teams. All told, there would be almost 100,000 additional personnel defending Kamino both on the surface, in the sky, and in the space around the planet.
It rankled Rex only a bit that his general would be part of the space-borne defenses while he and the rest of the 501st would be down on the surface. But the idea was that if the Republic could hold the enemy in space and prevent the big guns from getting within range of the planet, the ground forces would not have to engage at all. And General Skywalker was known as one of the best pilots in the GAR, if not the best. It only made sense to have him lead the space battle.
As the general and his captain headed for the mess hall, Rex felt it necessary to correct a misconception. "Just for the record, General, I'm pretty damned good at airborne operations," he put forth with careful impertinence.
"Flying, Rex, flying," Anakin chirped. "You're an average pilot."
"Hm, I dare anyone to try and snag me when I'm wearing a jetpack—"
Anakin laughed heartily. Force! how he loved his captain and his attempt to twist the very plain meaning of flying in this case into something that would still allow him to claim he excelled at it.
"I know all about you and the jetpack story," he said pointedly. "I've heard it from more than one person. And I don't doubt one word of it, but I'm not talking about being the rocketeer." He chuckled and shook his head. "I don't know how you didn't get kicked out of ARC school."
Rex smiled in smug satisfaction. "Because I'm that good."
"That's true," Anakin replied earnestly, adding with a bit of aim. "But when it comes to piloting a starfighter – or any ship, for that matter . . . Rex, let someone else be the best."
"I'll give it some thought, General," Rex replied. The truth was he knew full well that he was—just as General Skywalker had said—an average pilot. He could hold his own, but he wasn't going to win any ace contests for shoot-downs, nor was he going to be renowned for his ability to maneuver any kind of flying machine with the deftness of an Oddball, Broadside, Hawk, or Three-Point. Or even Cody, for that matter – for it was undeniable that the commander was a tremendous pilot, but one who had chosen very early on to focus his attention on the ground assault part of the 212th. He flew when he needed to, but he preferred to lead on the ground.
They entered the mess hall.
The place was packed. It was dinner time, and the first wave was coming through.
Right away, Rex saw a cluster of his men around one of the tables closest to the doors leading into where the cafeteria line ran. His attention had gone to them because of the blue hair on top of one excitedly bouncing head. Well, maybe not bouncing – it was more like the darting movements of a bird. There followed loud, boisterous laughter.
Hardcase, Pitch, Jesse, March, Gernot, Denal, and Sempe. Of the group, Denal was the only one who'd not been part of the crash-landed team.
On board the warship, protocol did not call for the room to be called to attention in every location. The mess hall was one of those locations. A place meant for relaxation and dining would be neither if every time a high-ranking officer came in, the whole place had to jump to its feet.
And so, as General Skywalker passed by the tables, he was greeted cordially but without fanfare.
"—so this blockhead goes diving into the river after the two of them, and me and Pitch were running around like sightless gambats! I'm yelling, 'they're gonna drown and we're gonna fail—'" This was from Hardcase, who was laughing so hard, he could barely get the words out.
Top cut him off. "Someone had to do something, and I knew I wasn't going to drown," he said with bravado. "Hey, we had to keep our reputation as the best, and Force knows ole Jess' here could barely even keep his own head above water. I don't know what made you think you could take that river after getting the crap beat outta ya."
Jesse grinned. "I think they reconsidered the off-world portion of the training program after that."
"Yeah, they just left that to the ARC school—"
"And a good thing they did," Rex interjected.
"Captain! General Skywalker!" The men stood up in a show of respect, but the general quickly waved them back to their seats, where they scooted down on the benches to make room for the newcomers.
Rex went on. "After seeing Saber Squad's . . . performance on the survival course, even I would have wondered if it was wise to allow cadets to train on actual terrain."
"We all made it, Captain," Top pointed out with a cheerful grin.
"Barely," Rex replied. A pause. "Kix still in med-bay?"
"No, he's back in quarters but still on convalescence for two weeks," Jesse answered. "Doc says he won't need to send him to a rear med station. He's almost fully recovered."
"Thanks to the Monastica and their methods," Pitch added.
"Sixer's getting released today to quarters for convalescence as well," Jesse stated.
"Good to hear it," Rex said.
"You boys looking forward to seeing your old haunting grounds?" Anakin asked easily. He was well-liked by the men and knew it. He could afford to be a bit casual, knowing they would always defer to him with the respect his position deserved.
"I'm more looking forward to kicking the Separatist ass that dares attack my home planet," Hardcase replied.
"Spoken like a true soldier," Anakin grinned.
"I just want to see if Dunnam'Kah is still there," Top put forth.
"Dunnam'Kah?" Anakin queried.
"One of the bounty hunters who was responsible for training our batch. He was a good guy, always on our side."
Rex nodded. "I remember meeting him. He was a good man."
"You know, General, with you leading the squadrons up here, we probably won't see any action down there," Denal noted.
"That's the way we want it," Anakin rejoined. "But if both Grievous and Ventress are heading up this attack, there's a good chance we might see action in space and planet-side. Tipoca City is the only target they're aiming for, and they won't give up easily."
"We'll be ready for 'em , Sir," Pitch said with determination.
"We've got a lot of brothers who need protecting," Gernot added. "We all know the Separatists don't have any qualms about killing clones – even clones who are still just boys or embryos."
Even Jesse had a moment of esprit. "They picked the wrong place to attack. Kamino is as close to a home as any of us have got. Every clone would fight to the death to protect it . . . and to protect our brothers who are still there."
Anakin nodded, then with serious intent, he spoke. "And that kind of attitude . . . is why we're going to win this war."
The following day on Kamino.
"We'll put your Alpha through Kilo companies on the north 1 and 2 landing platforms," Cody pronounced as he and Rex surveyed the areas assigned to the 501st and 212th. General Kenobi had left the tactical details of troop deployment to the clone commanders, as he had strategic matters to discuss with his fellow Jedi. "My Alpha through Kilo will form the fall-back line. On South 1 and 2, we'll put Lima through Zulu companies. Mine will be front-line and yours will be fall-back."
"Sounds good," Rex nodded, taking note of the most defensible positions. "If they break through the blockade, they may come in with hollow-hull missiles . . . "
"Full of battle droids," Cody finished the thought. "In which case, we'll have to take them out as they leave the missile casing. Once they're loose, it will be harder to bring them down. We need overwhelming firepower."
"We'll have it," Rex said without a hint of doubt. "We'll have nearly 1,800 men covering four platforms. We need to make sure enough men are equipped with rocket and grenade launchers, try to take out the missiles as soon as they land."
Cody was thoughtful. "And if it's not missiles?"
"We can take out landing craft the same way," Rex replied.
But Cody still seemed troubled. "There's not a whole lot of real estate to land on here, if you know what I mean. And what little there is will be heavily guarded. The Seppies may not know we've discovered their plan to attack here, but they'll have contingencies to cover just that possibility. If they can't land on the structures, they'll find some other way."
"Land in the water?"
"A lot of SBDs are equipped with jets now," Cody remarked. "They could land in the sea and still get up here pretty easily."
"We need to have 360 visibility and someone to coordinate defenses if attacks come from multiple directions." Rex paused. "I'll put Top and Jesse on north 1 and 2. Sixer is still down . . . Haven and Pincot will take south 1 and 2."
"Rave and Potter on north 1 and 2. Shockwave and Flip on south 1 and 2," Cody added.
"I want to get a better look at those comm clusters, see if they offer a good shot."
"I'll go with you."
But they had gone only a few steps back inside the north 1 hangar bay when they heard a voice call out to them.
"2224! 7567!"
Both men turned towards the sound of the voice, and up on a raised walkway along the inner wall of the hangar, they saw a man they hadn't seen in . . . well, since ARC training.
Cody smiled behind his visor. "2025!"
The man flung himself over the rail, ricocheted off the ventilation ducts, and landed with the lightness of a Swanape dancer only a few meters in front of them.
After more than a year, it only seemed fitting that the men should all meet face-to-face. The helmets came off.
Cody noted the rank on the man's helmet as he removed it. "Commander Colt now, is it? Has a nice ring to it."
"Cody, Rex, good to see you," the commander replied. "I wish it were under better circumstances."
"We weren't expecting to see you here," Rex stated. "I thought you'd be off-world, training."
"We're back looking for a few good men," Colt grinned. There was warmth and conviction even in his smile. He was a strikingly handsome man with a military demeanor that befit his position as an ARC instructor and commander of the Rancor training battalion very well.
The structure of the ranks of the Advanced Recon Commando units was a somewhat convoluted one, and the degree of autonomy with which many ARCs operated when on assignment or detachment to the regular or even the elite units had caused a bit of consternation on more than a few occasions.
The ARC program had begun as an experimental venture to train a handful of clones in the conduct of specialized areas of warfare: counter-terrorism, direct action, special reconnaissance, interplanetary internal defense, and unconventional warfare. For this, they would need to develop a higher level of independence and creativity in their thinking, withstand intense physical training and conditioning, and prove that it was possible for clones to rise to the level where they could pull off such dangerous missions with as high a degree of success as their non-clone counterparts.
The first clones selected had proven more than equal to the task and had then formed the nucleus of an expanded training program that had immediately begun to draw the top-performing cadets from each of Kamino's graduating classes – a sort of euphemistic way of saying 'clones whose training was nearing completion'. And while this method had proven successful, it had soon become clear that the best candidates for ARC trooper were to be found out in the field units with soldiers who had proven themselves in combat and had the experience and leadership to bring with them into the training environment. It had also become evident that a longer training course was needed. Originally, ARC training had been only three weeks and fully confined to the facilities on Kamino. But within a matter of a few months, it had expanded to six weeks, four of which were spent on the designated training planet of Mayotta, which, with its uninhabited multitude of terrains and climates, formed the perfect locale for carrying out dangerous training missions.
The cadre had begun to expand, complete with its own supporting staff, until it numbered well over 200. It took a lot of work to keep the ARC program organized and functional. As the program began to draw more recruits from the field units, six training battalions of 80 recruits each were formed. Of necessity and function, they were much smaller than combat battalions; yet they could be called up on a moment's notice to enter battle if needed.
Fully half of those who entered ARC training washed out without completing it. It was a rigorous and often dangerous regimen. One or two deaths per training cycle were not uncommon. As a trooper, you did not accept the recommendation to attend ARC training unless you were ready to take your chances. But the rewards upon successful completion were as permanent as they were intangible: the courage and strength, the quick-thinking and split-second decision-making skills, the camaraderie and sense of unity . . . these were things that stayed with ARC troopers from graduation day forward.
The vast majority of graduates either returned to their unit or moved on to a position of greater authority in another unit. Some stayed on as part of the cadre, and then still others—though few in number—were assigned to a special ARC unit, simply known as the AG—the purpose of which was to augment other units on special assignment or to carry out, in small teams, highly sensitive and covert missions.
Both Rex and Cody had been in the first class to go through the expanded on- and off-Kamino training regimen. Looking back on it now, Cody decided that it had hardly seemed fair to visit a new training locale and Rex upon the cadre in the same go, but fairness had never been what ARC training was all about. It was about toughness; and even in the face of gross abuse, the precarious balance between developing that toughness and calling a halt to unnecessary violence had been barely maintained . . .
Colt's voice refocused Cody's attention. "The next training cycle for Rancor starts in a 21 standard days. We got about 45 nominees from field units. That leaves 35 to pull from the graduating cadets," Colt went on. "Of course, now it looks like things will have to be delayed. I'm here with Meers and Tango. They've placed us in command of the Tipoca garrison forces."
He had a smooth way of understating the threat, which both Rex and Cody imagined was a result of having had to deal with thousands of new and anxious recruits into the ARC program over the past year. He certainly hadn't been that way when they'd all gone through ARC training together. He'd always been gung-ho, serious when necessary, and fiercely devoted to whatever team he found himself a part of. It had come as no surprise to anyone when the cadre of ARC instructors had asked him to stay on as one of them.
And now, seeing him again, in a vicarious way, both Rex and Cody felt a sense of pride and accomplishment on their friend's behalf.
"Finding any talent?" Cody asked.
"Plenty," Colt replied. He looked at Rex. "I had your man in this last class."
"Flat Top," Rex nodded. "We were all surprised he made it through without blowing everyone up."
Colt gave a slight laugh. "That is one crazy officer. And . . . a pretty amazing leader. You must be doing something to train them right, Rex."
"I just try to set the example," Rex replied, pleased and somewhat smug at Colt's assessment.
Cody grinned sideways. "What was it you wanted me to remind you of? Your ego?"
Now Colt's chuckle turned into a full-on jibing laugh. "I see nothing's changed."
Rex was game and accepted the pokes good-naturedly. "Except that I'm even better now than I was then."
"I seem to recall at the end, your perfect self needed a little intervention," Colt pointed out, to which Cody crossed his arms in agreement.
"For which I am eternally grateful," Rex said with a stab at humbleness.
Cody shook his head. "You're right, Colt. Nothing's changed."
A couple notes: the description of ARC training I lifted straight from the Army Special Forces page (and experience from a friend). I have to say that I always found the Star Wars ARC trooper thing rather confusing. Were they their own units? Was it just a special designation a trooper earned after completing training? Did they stay with their unit or just get tasked out? There seemed to be no continuity, and since I don't read the books, I hope you will forgive me for just sort of creating my own idea of what ARC trooper structure looks like.
The next chapter begins a long, long, LONG flashback to Rex and Cody's ARC training days.