Dear Reader, Thank you to my reviewers, CT-782, the Unnamed Guest, TaitanoRules, Freedom Phantom, and LLTC. This is a short chapter - a sort of interlude. Lots of these scenes are setting the stage for the stuff that is to come. The next chapter wraps up the Land Navigation exercise. I wish everyone a Joyful Christmas Season, per my own tradition. Peace! CS

Chapter 65 The Way of Trust

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them."

Ernest Hemingway

The passageway through which they were traveling turned out to be one of a labyrinth; and the deeper into the volcanic mountain the platoon moved, the more ill-at-ease CT-7567 grew. As far as he was concerned, he and his brothers might as well have been vrek rats in a maze, being led on by a shaggy vrek rat exterminator that had somehow managed to mesmerize his fellow platoon leader.

CT-7567 proceeded, his face cast in a perpetual grimace. Was he the only one who did not trust this animal? Never mind if he were. At least, he, among the 32 men who comprised the platoon, had the sense to exercise some degree of caution. He very quietly ordered the members of Saber Squad to be on their guard, to keep their weapons charged and at the ready. In addition, he ordered Double-Ones to track their route so that it could be retraced, if necessary, in the event of an attack.

But after nearly eight hours of wandering underground, the lieutenant began to wonder if they were being led to nowhere. They went from more of the red-light-suffused passages to utter darkness requiring lumens and then back; from silence to the low, subtle rumbling to sound and motion stressors that made them fear the mountain itself might be about to explode.

And every step taken was one step further removed from the possibility of a quick exit.

This, more than anything else, rankled CT-7567.

He did not mind that CT-3636 had pulled rank on him. He didn't even mind that the commander had told him he could leave if that was what he wanted. Why, he could even live with the fact that the last handful of decisions had been made by the commander alone, without any discussion.

But what he was finding it harder to stomach was his own reticence as the wolf had taken them deeper and deeper into the mountain. The truth was they had no idea where they were going and no reason to think this detour would result in anything other than complete and utter failure – or worse.

And now, it was too late in the game for CT-7567 to suggest to CT-3636 that they'd made a mistake. Besides, even if following the wolf had been folly, turning back would negate the last eight hours – eight hours that they really had not been able to afford to lose.

"Trust someone other than myself, that's what he told me," CT-7567 grumbled inwardly. "Hmph! This is why I trust myself more than anyone else. I never would have put us in this situation." He scowled, unseen, at CT-3636 up ahead of him, borne once again on his litter. The commander's show of strength and resolve had kept him on his feet for close to three hours, but now he was riding again. He might have gone a bit longer, except for the threats coming from CT-6116.

The lieutenant had been hoping the medic would carry out those threats and remove CT-3636 from his position of command; but apparently, getting the commander off his feet and onto the litter had been the sole purpose of 6116's attention.

This only added to CT-7567's surliness.

"Well, Lieutenant, I guess this explains the hash marks on the map." Double-Ones was beside him, and his voice, gratefully, redirected 7567's thoughts.

"Oh?"

"I think they represent these passages. Clearly, not all the tunnels are marked on the map, but it seems safe to assume that the one or two lines that are marked are representative of the entire system," Double-Ones surmised.

"You may be right," 7567 agreed. "Does it show the path coming out anywhere?"

"It looks like it comes out here . . . and here," the cadet replied, shining his lumen on the map as the two men walked.

"That's no good. Those are almost clear back at the beginning of the foothills. We will have just gone the long way to get back almost to where we started from," CT-7567 frowned. "What has the compass been showing for our heading?"

"Nothing, Sir," came the reply. "Since we've been underground, it hasn't worked. The lava flows mess with the magnetic fields."

"Great. Flying blind," the lieutenant groused.

"Don't you mean tunneling blind, Sir?"

CT-7567 actually felt a tickle of humor at the back of his throat, and he was glad to see that his and CT-3636's charges were not moping and grumbling – even though he himself might be doing just that.

"I'll just be happy when we get back to some daylight," 7567 stated. "We've been down here for eight hours."

"So far, it beats what was on the surface. Rain, wind, tornadoes, flooded rivers, poisonous gas—"

As Double-Ones ran off the litany, CT-4441, who had been walking close by, interjected, "Don't do that! You're going to jinx us."

Double-Ones shook his head with a smile. "There you go again. I don't know how you ever got so superstitious. It's not like Kamino does much to inspire . . . creative thinking."

"That's because nothing can inspire you rejects from Nocturne Squad," CT-4441 snapped back with a game twinkle in his eye. "Not even a beautiful woman."

"That's it; try to change the subject," Double-Ones took the insult in stride. "You're just one strong wind away from being blown off to crazy land with that imagination of yours." A pause. "Luckily, for you, that flat top deflects the wind right off top of your flat head." It was a play on words, a fine stroke of wit; and even CT-4441 could not suppress a chuckle.

"That's pretty clever . . . even for you," he replied.

"Enh, that's because your squad got all the brawn and my squad got all the brains—"

"Oh, I beg to differ. Jesse's smarter than all of us combined."

It was a statement definitively given, but it was what followed that impressed CT-7567. He fully expected that Double-Ones would have a clever comeback, an argument in favor of his own squad's apparently superior intelligence. But surprisingly, after a few seconds of silence, he replied earnestly, "You're right."

Listening to them, CT-7567 felt his irritation and moodiness lifting a bit; but still he remained vigilant. He could not risk letting his guard down; for while the men might not be worried about the path they were on and the creature leading them down that path, the lieutenant knew that it took only a split-second of inattention to allow disaster a crack into which to insert itself.

He stayed a few more seconds in the company of the two men, then moved ahead to walk alongside CT-3636's litter, where the commander was sitting upright—and looking none too good for it—intent on exerting his leadership role instead of being a mere passenger or bystander.

"You still sold on this idea?" the lieutenant asked quietly.

"I am," he replied. "And even if I wasn't, it wouldn't be worth turning back at this point."

"Well, I, uh, I have the lads keeping track of how we came," CT-7567 said. "Just in case we end up needing to go back."

At this, CT-3636 raised his eyes, his head slowly following – an expression of disgust or disappointment that was almost wolf-like in its intensity.

"We won't end up needing to go back," he said, repeating the lieutenant's words with pointed precision.

"Just keeping all our options open," 7567 persisted.

"All except the option that someone else just might know more than you do."

"The bastard did it again."

CT-7567 felt his ire begin to bubble. CT-3636 had called him out in front of the two stretcher-bearers, called him out in front of two cadets for whom both ARC hopefuls were supposed to be setting an example.

"With all due respect, Commander . . . a man who follows the lead of an animal might not know as much as the thinks he does," 7567 replied calmly. With that, he slackened his pace and fell back among the rest of the platoon under the pretense of checking their morale.

To think – he had honestly believed they had been getting along rather well since the commander had been injured. Now, he had come to a point where it seemed CT-3636 could do nothing but criticize and insult him. Even so, he tried to find some excuse, some way to expunge the commander of the guilt of his behavior.

"He's probably starting to realize that we're so off-course, we'll never pass this thing. I wonder if this will get us kicked out . . . " He quickly corralled his thoughts and focused on the main subject. "And he's got to be in a lot of pain. Plus, he can't walk . . . that probably makes him feel useless." CT-7567 wondered if he himself was just too . . . soft. After all, what man worth his treasure would absorb such disrespect and insultfrom another man? And in front of an audience? And yet, here he was, trying to find excuses for why the commander had spoken so derisively to him.

"Commander! Lieutenant! Look! Up ahead!" This was from CT-2085-4 who was walking a short distance ahead of them, once again taking up closer to the wolf-creature than CT-7567 would have liked.

CT-7567 trained his eyes up the passageway.

And there it was.

The unmistakable glint of daylight diffused through the hazy air inside the tunnel.

"We must be coming to the end." This from a Predator Squad clone beside whom the lieutenant was walking.

"It sure looks that way," 7567 nodded his agreement. He moved to the front of the gaggle, past the commander, past 2085-4, and even past the wolf. He followed the passageway for another hundred yards as it made a slow, sweeping right turn, the light growing stronger with every step.

And then he emerged into daylight. He shielded his eyes for several seconds then surveyed the scene.

He stood on the lower half of a mountain, just above the tree line. Below him, a vast forest stretched away as far as he could see. The morning light brought a foggy haze rising up among the trees, and reaching up from within that haze was their final objective – a stepped tower of rough hewn stone, a monument to whatever civilization had once inhabited these parts.

CT-7567 estimated a distance of no more than twenty kilometers between himself and the objective. They could cover that in a day.

A strange dichotomy began swirling within him.

Clearly, the platoon would now certainly pass the test – so long as no more ill luck befell them. Not only would they pass, but with time to spare, nearly a full day. And considering all they had been through, that was miraculous in and of itself.

On the other hand, he was facing the commander's vindication.

CT-3636 had been right. His instincts had been proven accurate. The decision to follow the wolf had shown some form of prescience that CT-7567 had discounted, and now he was already firming up his defenses against what he was sure was going to be the commander's "I told you so" dressing down.

"We made it."

CT-7567 turned to see CT-2085-4 joining him.

"Yes, we did."

"This is incredible," the cadet enthused warmly. "The commander was right."

"It appears so," 7567 conceded.

"That's the objective, there," 2085-4 went on. "We'll be there by sundown."

"I think you're right." The lieutenant couldn't muster the enthusiasm he should have felt, and this bothered him in no small way. Was he really so competitive, so self-centered, that he couldn't even appreciate someone else—a brother—who had out-thought him? Did he always have to be the only one orchestrating the success? His mindset had always been such, and it had served him well up to this point. He could say the commander had merely gotten lucky with his hit-or-miss decision to trust the wolf; but that would only entail his own self-deception. The truth was, the commander had sensed something he had not. The commander possessed a talent he did not. And the commander had led them to safety where he had not.

"Let's just hope we have no more surprises," 7567 concluded.

Within a minute, the rest of the platoon emerged from the passageway, along with the wolf. Immediately, the animal moved in a series of leaps up the mountainside, stopping to perch on a rocky outcropping above them. As the commander emerged on his litter, he directed his gaze towards the creature and without a word, without even a gesture, he managed to express his gratitude. Whatever the understanding was, whatever the connection, he knew his message was received. And as the platoon moved down towards the wooded lowlands, and the wolf was lost from sight, a single howl—a parting note—rose into the air and followed them.

And long after the others could no longer hear it, CT-3636 continued to discern its echo.

"Well, none of us saw that coming," Captain Spicer grinned. He turned to Captain Skidz. "I thought the Mountain Wolves were reclusive."

Skidz shrugged in a show of fake nonchalance. "Apparently not as reclusive as we believed."

"They're closer now than they would have been had they stayed with the original course," Captain Scarlett noted. "That wolf helped them . . . consciously."

"He just wanted them out of his territory," Skidz replied. "I admit I half-expected CT-7567 to blow them all to pieces. He tends to be trigger-happy."

Captain Spicer deferred. "He's excitable, but I wouldn't say I've seen anything to mark him as trigger-happy."

"You've known him for three weeks. I spent ten years growing up alongside him," Skidz pointed out.

"Yes, but four months on the front lines tends to change a man," Spicer pushed back.

Major Tides interrupted. "I think what we've seen here says more about CT-3636 than it does CT-7567. CT-3636 had some sort of connection with that wolf." A pause. "And as a fellow clone, I find that impossible to explain. None of us have that kind of inherent ability."

"Maybe it's a learned skill," Captain Scarlett proffered.

"You can learn how to build a blaster. You can learn how to construct a pontoon bridge. You can even learn how to set a broken bone. But that sort of . . . telepathy or empathy or whatever you want to call it, that forms no part of who we are," Tides said. "A man has to have a predisposition to such a thing, I would venture."

"Well, I call it luck," Captain Skidz persisted. "The wolf wanted them gone, and instead of fighting them, it led them away. I think it had nothing to do with CT-3636 in any way other than the fact that he decided to follow it. There was no communication. It was the only reasonable course of action."

"Reasonable? To follow a wolf? You're just being stubborn now," Captain Scarlett said. "If you don't want to admit that there was something . . . un-clone-like going on there, that's your prerogative. But don't damage your own credibility by trying to claim it was a reasonable decision. The reasonable decision would have been to keep going back down the way they came."

"CT-7567 had the reasonable decision," Major Tides concurred. "CT-3636 was operating on gut and instinct – according to his own words." He chuckled and mused, "That's a switch, isn't it? If I were going to bet on who would be most likely to trust his gut, I'd have chosen the lieutenant. This has been a rather pleasant surprise. I didn't know the commander had it in him."

"Well, they're not at the end yet," Captain Skidz sneered. "They could still run into trouble."

"You almost sound like you're hoping for it," Captain Spicer noted.

"I'm indifferent," Skidz replied.

But his words fooled no one.

"Stop for five!" CT-7567 shouted, then turning to CT-4441, "Take a look at the men. See how everyone's doing." A moment later, he hunkered down beside CT-3636. "We're making excellent time. I'd say three more hours, tops."

"Good. The men are holding up well," 3636 stated. "So far, it's been quiet this side of the mountain."

"If this were one of the ranges, I'd be expecting them to throw some other obstacle into our path," 7567 admitted.

"Don't discount that possibility yet," 3636 warned.

A moment of awkward silence followed before CT-7567 spoke again. "You were right. About the wolf."

When CT-3636 did not respond right away, 7567 went on. "I should have trusted you. The cadets did. I should have, too."

"I didn't expect you to," came the cool reply.

The bluntness with which these words were spoken prodded CT-7567's sense of pride. He had figured CT-3636 would be magnanimous in the face of this quasi-apology. But instead, the commander was agreeing with and confirming the lieutenant's assessment of his own shortcomings and failings.

And now CT-7567 felt a compelling need to defend his lack of faith.

"It just . . . it seemed crazy," he explained.

CT-3636 looked at him with an expression that fell somewhere between pity—which CT-7567 could not abide—and scoffing—which was only marginally more tolerable. "How is it that a tactical officer whose entire war experience consists of plotting battles on holo-grids has a readier comprehension of the intangible than a front-line officer in one of the most battle-hardened units in the GAR?" A pause. "Does the lack of a Jedi in your unit turn you all into skeptics?"

This was too much for CT-7567 to bear. "You, who do nothing but find fault with everyone and everything that crosses your path—you want to call me a skeptic? You want to criticize me for not believing in what I can't see or hear or touch? I'll tell you this, Commander. Even if I were serving side-by-side with a Jedi, I'd still place my first trust in my own skills."

"That's only because you've never seen the Force in action," the commander replied evenly.

"I've seen General Shaak-Ti—"

"That's the Force being used at peace," 3636 cut him off. "Seeing it used for combat . . . you won't doubt its existence." A pause. "That is, if you ever get into a Jedi-led unit. The thing that holds you back, Lieutenant, is your own conviction that you're always right."

"And the thing that holds you back, Commander, is that you think you're too good for the rest of us."

Despite 7567's attack, CT-3636 maintained a placidity that could only have been learned with much practice or from much observation.

"CT-7567, sit down."

And although it took the entirety of his will and good sense, CT-7567 drew in a deep breath and hunkered down beside him.

"Yes, Commander."

CT-3636 began speaking in such a calm and persuasive voice that CT-7567 found himself listening with rapt attention, despite his ire.

"You're wrong. About a lot of things," he began. "But one thing you're absolutely right about, one thing you're perfect at . . . is leading men. I've seen that with your ARC squad mates and now with these cadets." A pause. "I don't have that. I have the ideas. The problem-solving skills. But I don't have a rapport with the troops. You're the one who's led these men for the last three days. I've come up with plans, but you're their platoon leader." He lowered his voice. "But you don't fool me. You go around acting as if you're the most open-minded, spontaneous trooper out there. But you have your own unwritten rules that govern everything you do. And the first rule, the most important rule that you've created is to trust no one above yourself." A pause. "And then, when you encounter something you don't understand, you call it into question."

CT-7567 was silent.

"If you want to go from being one of the best to being the best," CT-3636 went on, "Work on learning to trust others. And one more thing: not every disagreement is meant as an attack. Now, I think we should get moving again. I'm ready to end this thing."

CT-7567, still somewhat bemused, merely nodded before getting to his feet. He had decided with great certainty that, among his clone acquaintances, CT-3636 was undoubtedly the most difficult to figure out.

But as he was soon to discover, the title of "most difficult" was purely dependent on the trials of the moment.