Dear Reader, Sorry it's taken me a long time to get this chapter up. I needed a transition into the next segment, and this was not pre-written like most of my chapters. I also have to set up the bond in Saber Squad due to some upcoming scenarios. Lastly, I hope you will remember BB—the pilot who from Bertegad who has a little thing for Ahsoka (and she for him). He's in chapter 34. And then Captain Snap (from Cody's Squad in ARC training) also makes an appearance. I hope you enjoy! Peace, CS

Chapter 79 Ripples in the Current

"Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there someday."

Winnie-the-Pooh
A. A. Milne

"Did you hear? The general put in for a 10-day stand down, and it was granted. We're on our way back to Coruscant." The enthusiasm in Hardcase's voice was clear.

"Fantastic!" Pitch replied with equal excitement.

Jesse was more reserved. "Ten days shore leave on Coruscant . . . wonderful. I wonder how much trouble you all can get into over the course of ten days—and how many times I'll be called downtown to bail you out."

"Now, that's not fair, Jessie," Pitch chastised. "We've never been hauled in."

"Maybe not you four, but the platoon has 25 other men in it," Jesse reminded him. "And they've had their fair share of . . . shore leave issues." He shook his head. "I still say it was a huge mistake to start opening up clone bars."

"And I say it was a great idea!" Hardcase pushed back. "How else are we supposed to ever meet any women?"

"You wouldn't want the kind of women you meet in those places," Jesse pointed out, drawing on the elitism that defined the members of the 501st.

Top put an arm around his squad leader's shoulders. "It's not as if we're going to find the likes of Senator Chuchi or Amidala banging down our doors, Jes. But still I agree with you: we can do much better than the bar leeches."

"There were pretty women back on Bertegad," Hardcase stated. "And they were definitely interested in us—"

"They were religious sisters!" Kix pointed out.

"Not all of them."

"Look, I'm just happy to have some down time," Jessie interjected. "It'll be nice to have a good meal instead of the usual dining facility stuff."

"Here, here!" Top agreed. "And I, for one, as the newest ARC trooper to grace this squad's ranks—in fact, the only ARC trooper—I give you my word that I, for one, will absolutely not get into any trouble. And furthermore . . . " He fixed Hardcase, Kix and Pitch with a warning glare, "I can guarantee that these three will stay squeaky clean the whole time."

Jesse shook his head. "The day you behave yourself will be the day time goes backward."

"I agree."

The unexpected voice caused them all to get hastily to their feet.

"General Skywalker," Jesse and Top said in unison.

"At ease," the general said with a flash of warmth that the clones had come to expect from him – when not on the battlefield. "Carry on. It was an interesting conversation."

"Just looking forward to some shore leave, General," Top put forth. "And the opportunity to keep these boys in line."

Jesse grimaced sideways at him, then to General Skywalker, "And we thought he had a big head before he went to ARC training," he jabbed with good humor.

Anakin chuckled. "Is he forgetting who the platoon leader is?"

"He would if I let him," Jesse replied, then after a brief hesitation. "But I am wondering, Sir: with Top now being an ARC trooper, are you going to move him up to be a platoon leader?"

"That's Rex's decision," Anakin replied. "And he'd be the first to tell you that just because a clone makes ARC trooper, that doesn't mean he's fit to be a platoon leader – or even a squad leader for that matter."

"Are you saying I'm not fit, Sir?" Top poked with a wry grin.

"I would never say that about you, Top," Anakin replied. "In fact, I think your big head is well-deserved. Almost as well deserved as your captain's."

This brought a round of conspiratorial snickers from the members of Saber Squad. It was one thing for them to take the occasional fond poke at their captain; but when General Skywalker did it, it was like hearing a bit of scuttlebutt, something off-limits and well . . . perhaps a bit . . . naughty.

And they loved it. They loved it all the more because they held both Captain Rex and General Skywalker in high regard, revering and respecting them as an unbeatable team.

"The captain was my example," Top offered. "If I can ever lead men one-hundredth as well as he does, that will be good enough for me."

"You just keep your leadership here," Kix chimed in. "We don't need Sector Headquarters noticing how brilliant you are and deciding to reassign you."

Top nudged him in the side. "We were born together. We're going to die together, LB."

Anakin could hear the conviction in his voice, and it amazed him that Top actually believed his own words. He believed they would all go out together – as a squad. Sometimes, it happened that way. Too often, in fact. How often was it that an entire platoon was annihilated? An entire battalion?

But he'd never heard the clones speak of such things . . . until now. And they were all agreeing to the same idea – they had come into existence together, they lived together, and they would die together. It was touching but not the sort of vow or promise a fighting man should make.

Yet, he found himself falling into the trap of brotherhood. "If that happens, I hope I go with you."

Pitch deferred with a grin. "Nah, Sir. You have to stick around long enough to avenge us."

They all shared a laugh, and then Jesse decided it was time to change the subject to something less demanding. "Do you have plans for shore leave, General?"

"In fact, I do; though not all of it is going to be relaxing," he replied with the easy manner that made his troops feel as if they were a part of his inner circle, no matter how far they might be removed from the grand world of Jedi and politicians in which he moved. The members of the 501st all knew, to a man, that General Skywalker would rather be with them than with the stuffed shirts that occupied the Senate – or the Jedi Council, for that matter.

But in their certainty, they were only partly correct.

For Anakin Skywalker, there could be no greater joy than the prospect of returning to Coruscant. For a return to Coruscant meant a return to Padme. And a return to Padme meant the restoration of his soul. Despite the secrecy under which they lived their life as husband and wife, Anakin could not imagine a more perfect union. He would have traded everything – even his status as a Jedi – if only Padme had asked it of him. But from the first moments of their declarations of love back at the start of the clone wars, they had come to the arrangement under which they now labored: that of a forbidden, furtive love, revelation of which would have negative consequences for both of them.

Anakin knew that his lackadaisical view of the consequences of their relationship rankled Padme no little amount, keeping the fear alive in her that he might one day blurt out the truth to the entire galaxy. He was passionate that way, full of vigor and intensity; and she knew that. It was one of the things she most loved about him, even as it concerned her.

Anakin's thoughts were on Padme as he answered Jessie's question. "I've got a dinner with politicians on the third night after we get back. I hate that sort of thing, but she—Senator Amidala asked me to attend."

"Sounds like a real hardship, Sir," Pitch teased.

"You have no idea," Anakin continued. "She's hosting a state dinner for Senator Aang—" He saw the clones' blank stares. "Roonan? It doesn't matter. Anyway, he's a pain, but Senator Amidala wants his vote on some legislation she's working on. She's already stressing out over it."

Hardcase, never one to pass up the opportunity to exercise his suspicious and probing nature, asked, "Sounds like a big to-do, General. How did you get on the guest-list?"

Jessie scowled at him, but Hardcase paid no heed.

Anakin considered that he might have offered a bit too much information. He needed to back out the discussion without incurring greater suspicion. "The Senator wanted some Jedi security in addition to the regular Coruscant Guard. There are going to be a lot of powerful people in attendance. I volunteered."

"But I thought you didn't like that sort of gathering—"

"They have great food," Anakin interrupted. "Senator Aang's favorite dessert is Jogan Fruit Cake. That alone makes it worth it."

Kix could not help himself. "Do you know how much cytoglyde is in a Jogan Fruit Cake? One small slice would give you a hang-over for days."

Anakin marveled at the medic's single-mindedness. "That's probably why Senator Aang likes it so much," he quipped.

"Not to mention what it does to a human's liver—" Kix went on.

"Ah yes, I can tell LB is fully recovered," Top prodded. "He's once again pointing out that all the things that make life worth living . . . hasten us towards an early death."

"Don't' get him started, Top," Hardcase warned.

Anakin regarded Kix with a grin. "Well, before you start with the litany, I want to say that I'm glad you're well," he put forth. "I heard there was a real concern you weren't going to make it. That would have been a heavy loss."

Kix, too modest to boast of his own worth—unlike his squad mates—met this praise with a diffident nod and no words. His squad mates were not as reserved.

"Worst two weeks of my life," Jesse admitted.

"Mine, too," Pitch agreed.

"You know, if I'd been there—" Top began, but Hardcase cut him off.

"Don't even try, bigwig! When you saw he was okay, you just about fell apart! I thought you were going to break down in tears. If you had been there, you'd have been the worst of us!"

"I have strong emotions," Top sniffed with a voice of superiority.

Anakin was pleased that they felt comfortable enough in his presence to let their guards down and speak openly, including him in their banter.

"So, what do you say we head on over to the mess hall and grab a bite?" the general suggested, then to Kix, "I'm sure you can find something non-toxic in their selections."

The star scape from this vantage point was truly dazzling. Rex could actually see the Habers Nebulae with its array of orange and yellow bands clearly defined. It was a stunning view, and Rex pondered the fact that he'd never noticed it before. He had passed through this region of space many times going to and from the outer rim, but he'd never noticed the stars. He'd had neither the time nor the interest.

He had the time now. The interest had only recently been awakened in him, and he knew why. He often thought back on his conversation with Doma Maree in which she'd accused him of never noticing the wonder of his own existence or that of creation. Looking at the stars now, he was once again reminded of her words.

"We pass ourselves by without wondering. That's you, Captain."

Perhaps if she had known him earlier, before experience had tempered him a bit, she might have thought that he'd been a bit too full of wonder, at least where his own existence was concerned. But events had changed him, even going as far back as ARC training. Being back on Kamino had resurrected many dormant memories of the events there and the man Rex had once been. Numerous battles later, with the deaths of countless numbers of brothers behind him, he had come to view the galaxy much more soberly now, although working for General Skywalker kept him from sinking into the depths of being too serious, and a spark of blitheness still invigorated his spirit. Apparently, his wistfulness had not been fully laid to rest, and it was that seed which Doma Maree had detected within him; she had appealed to his impetuosity. That appeal had stayed with him and prodded continually at his consciousness.

He was surprised, really. In the midst of the battle on Kamino, she'd not once entered his thoughts. But now that the battle was nearly a week behind him, not a day went by when he did not think of her and the idyllic life within those desert walls. He recalled his pledge often and with full intention of keeping it. After all, he had little opportunity to break his oath; and that made upholding it all the easier.

Still, he considered himself a strong enough man to stand by his word, once given.

"Jesse told me I'd probably find you up here."

Rex turned at the sound of Cody's voice. "Now, that's truly frightening, when my men can know me well enough that they can accurately predict where I'm going to be and when."

Cody grinned. "They do seem to have a good handle on what to expect from you." A pause. "We should be arriving on Coruscant in about two hours."

"You came up here to tell me that? You could have told me over the comlink and saved yourself a trip."

"I decided I might enjoy the view as well," Cody answered.

The two men stood side-by-side in silence for nearly a minute, looking out the window, before Cody spoke again. "Any plans for shore leave?"

Rex shook his head. "Not really. You know I can't stand to be away from the action for too long."

"Ten days isn't exactly what I would call long," Cody replied.

"I guess not."

Cody turned a curious, sidelong gaze towards him. "Something on your mind?"

Rex drew in a deep breath. "I was reading some of the post-battle reports from Kamino." A pause during which his face took on a pained expression, despite his best attempts to hide his emotions. "Over a million casualties. A million brothers. In one battle that lasted less than a day."

Cody frowned. "I saw that, too. Most of them were in the growth towers."

"A million lives . . . gone." His voice betrayed a pensive melancholy, the likes of which Cody had not heard from Rex in a long time. "And I . . . I can't help but wonder if . . . if they'll just make more." A pause. "Replacement units."

"I imagine they will," Cody replied with empathy. "That is what they're being paid for – to produce an army."

"Do you think anyone will mourn them?"

Cody was perplexed. "Rex, this isn't like you." He waited to see if Rex would continue without prompting, but the captain was silent. So, Cody pursued. "What's going on?"

Rex deflected. "Eh, nothing. Just . . . too much time to think. That's why it's not good for me to be away from the battlefield."

Cody simpered. "I'm not going to let you off on such a stupid answer. Something's got in your head, and it doesn't belong there."

Rex raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you the one who always told me I needed to be more serious?"

"Serious is fine," Cody replied. "Morose is not. You go back to your men like this, and they're going to wonder where their captain went. So, you can either tell me what's bothering you or you can work it out on your own; but something must have happened between Kamino and right now, because you weren't like this when we were in Tipoca City."

"We were fighting for our lives in Tipoca City," Rex reminded him. "Besides . . . it wasn't until after I read the casualty reports and saw how many had died that I . . . " He didn't know how to finish the sentence, and so he let his voice fall off into the silence.

Cody did not try to complete his friend's statement. Instead, he waited patiently, knowing that Rex had something he needed to get out.

And at length, Rex continued. "On Bertegad, Doma Maree showed me—showed us—animal souls. Millions of them. Souls that had come to her after death. I was right there. I saw them with my own eyes, and I—I'm still not sure I believe it." He grimaced. "She said—she said that we have souls, and that there are other beings like her who guard the souls of the dead—the human dead."

Cody was still puzzled. "That's what's troubling you? I think it would be a comforting thought, whether it's true or not."

"That's not it, Commander," Rex replied. "The thing that bothers me is that . . . I saw it first-hand. There was absolutely no question about what I was witnessing. Yet here I am, refusing to believe my own eyes. I find the idea of a soul hard to believe in." A pause. "It's hard for me to think that the sudden deaths of millions of my brothers has . . . cast millions of souls into . . . thin air." He turned away and directed his gaze back out the window. "It's easier to think that when they died, everything they were went with them."

"No soul at all," Cody presumed.

Rex was frank. "I didn't understand it on Bertegad. I don't understand it here."

Cody decided to put out a tentative feeler. "But on Bertegad, Doma Maree made it all a little easier to accept?"

"You met the woman," Rex replied. "She has the certainty that everyone wants. She deals in life after death. It's almost impossible not to have hope when you're around her."

"I would agree with that," Cody replied. "And I wasn't around her for nearly the amount of time the rest of you were. So, what? Not being around her suddenly makes you think everything you saw was some sort of illusion or hallucination?"

Rex scowled. "No. I know it was real. I just—if—if there are others like the Doma and they protect human souls, how come we've never come across them in all our travels?"

Before Cody could answer, Rex went on. Now that the floodgates were open, he was going to let the river flow. "All the brothers who have been killed since the war started—where are their souls? What about—we can't even conceive of how many lives from all species have been lost since the universe began. Where are all of those souls?"

"I don't know," Cody replied. "General Kenobi will vouch for the fact that souls exist. He's seen the soul of his former master. He's even talked with him. I don't pretend to understand any of it. But I don't see why you should be getting all worked up over this."

Rex was cooler as he answered, "Because I want to know if there really is a next life. And if there is, do we have a part in it?"

Cody grinned. "Whatever happened back on Bertegad must really have been something to make you think about things like that. You've always been a here-and-now kind of guy."

"I still am," Rex insisted. "I'm just not sure where the here-and-now ends anymore."

It was the sort of indecision, the sort of vulnerability Rex would never show to his troopers, and Cody respected that. The men of the 501st thought their captain was indestructible, unwavering in his decisions, and certain in his convictions.

Cody would not disavow them of their beliefs, but he could not ignore what he was hearing.

"I don't pretend to understand any of that metaphysical stuff," Cody admitted. "I know we have a purpose for which we were created, and a duty to fulfill that purpose. Whether or not there's a next life has no bearing on what I do in this life. As clones, we have the tendency to live like there's no tomorrow. That means getting everything you can out of each moment."

Rex regarded him with an unreadable expression. "There are things we can't have in this life."

Cody narrowed his eyes. He felt he was honing in on something. "Lots of things. You have something particular in mind?"

Rex did not hesitate. "Freedom."

Cody smiled. "That's one thing about you that hasn't changed. You still want to soar . . . just like the lunar hawk back on Myotta." He paused. "Do you really think we'll never have our freedom? If we survive the war?"

"You don't understand, Cody," Rex replied. "I could be the freest man in the galaxy . . . and I still wouldn't be able to have what I want."

With that, he turned and headed for the door, leaving Cody to wonder at the meaning of his words. But to Cody, the meaning was clear enough.

More had happened on Bertegad than even the commander had suspected.

"Can't you go out on your own? It's our first night back, and I'd like to just relax with some tech manuals," Echo implored from his bunk in the transient billets at the military port where the Resolute had berthed. The entire ship had been cleared in order for detox crews to conduct a routine decontamination, followed by a preventive maintenance inspection. The maintenance director for the facility had decided that as long as the ship was in port for ten days, they mightaswell make the most use of the time and run a full-point inspection.

And so Echo and Fives, along with the rest of the ship's complement, found themselves occupying the rather austere transient billets that serviced that particular military space port.

Echo had already settled comfortably into his bunk with a long reading list.

Fives had other ideas. "You can read those manuals any time. How often do we get to Coruscant? This is our first time since we were assigned to Rishi, our first time ever. Aren't you curious to see what it's like?"

"Not in the least."

"Echo! What's wrong with you? This is the center of the Republic! This is where everything's happening. Nightlife, entertainment, good food," Fives pressed, but he could see his words were having absolutely no persuasive effect. So, he decided to change tack. "You know, I really can't figure you out. You're so into reading and tech and all kinds of miscellaneous, meaningless junk. But when you have the opportunity to visit the greatest library in the known galaxy, you decide to stay in bed." It might have been an exaggeration, but Fives was desperate.

Still, Echo was not ignorant of his friend's ploys. "If you're referring to the Jedi Library, I've already made an appointment for tomorrow."

"Agh! So, if you're going to spend all day—and probably all night—in the library tomorrow, why not come out with me tonight?" Fives pleaded his case. "Think of this – we'll both be wearing our ARC trooper kit. Enh? How 'bout that? We won't just be regular grunts anymore. We'll have the respect that comes with being an ARC trooper."

"What sort of respect do you hope to find in some dive bar?" Echo retorted with a grin. "Besides, the captain's made it very clear how he expects us to behave on shore leave."

"I'm not planning to stir up any trouble, Echo. I'll tell you what: we'll go to a restaurant for dinner and then—only if you want to—maybe we can get a drink at one of the, uh, nicer bars, huh?"

"They probably don't let clones into the nicer bars," Echo replied. "And from all I've heard, I have no desire to go to a clone bar."

Fives had reached his limit of polite persuasion. "Echo, fek and all, if you don't get up off that bunk and come with me, I'm going to keep badgering you so much, you won't be able to read a single word."

Echo rolled his eyes, sat up, and swung his legs over the side of the bunk. "Fine, I'll get back into my armor. But, for the record . . . you've become a lot pushier since you became an ARC trooper."

This was the moment he'd been looking forward to for the last ten days in transit from Kamino. He'd left redeployment activities in Rex's capable hands, given a very curt debrief first to the GAR Plans and Operations Office then to the Jedi Council. He'd parted ways with Obiwan, and now he was about to cross the threshold into the arms of person who mattered most to him.

The door swished aside, and there stood . . .

"Oh! Master Ani! What a pleasant surprise! Oh, perhaps not a surprise—we knew you were coming home, but this is sooner than expected. How pleased Mistress Padme will be! She has spoken of nothing else since—"

"It's good to see you, Threepio," Anakin interrupted, mustering a grin. He knew if he did not cut off the droid's flow of words at this second, the welcome home would grow only more profuse. "I am a little bit early, but don't say anything. I want to surprise Padme."

"Oh! Well, if I may . . . Mistress Padme went to an emergency meeting of the Senate. She did not think you would be arriving so soon, or I'm sure she would have—"

"An emergency meeting of the Senate?" Anakin was rankled by this news. "What's happened?"

"By my gears, I do not know," Threepio replied, "But Artoo seems to think it has something to do with the funding bill for increasing the size of the clone army."

"Great," Anakin huffed. "That's just great. How long ago did she leave?"

"Nearly an hour, Master Ani," Threepio said.

"And with all the hot air coming from those senators, she'll probably be gone half the night," Anakin grunted. "They couldn't have called their damned meeting earlier? Unbelievable."

He loosened his leather tunic with angry, jerkish movements and tossed it on the long couch as he headed for the bedroom and a much needed cold shower. "I should have gone out with the troops," he muttered.

But when the door opened, his pulse quickened and all thoughts of a night with the troops vanished.

The darkened room was lit only by a dozen glow lights and stylish pulse-light water globes hovering in mid-air. Scansole music bubbled up just within audible range, its point and counterpoint trading an erotic melody. The bed was adorned in the rich, sumptuous linens that had always marked the wealth and prestige of the Senator from Naboo.

But not the lights, nor the music, nor the alluring bed dressings could hope to distract from the central figure for which the rest was just a backdrop.

She was waiting for him. Standing there at the foot of the bed, wearing the sort of sheer dressing gown that did nothing to proclaim modesty.

Anakin stepped inside, quickly closing the door on the innocuous eyes of the curious protocol droid.

Padme curled her lips in a provocative smile. "I'm sure you can still catch up with your troops, if that's what you want."

Anakin cross the room in three strides. "Not a chance."

Ahsoka walked through the Resolute's main hangar at a leisurely pace, taking in the orderly fashion in which every ship, every crate, every piece of equipment was stored. She wasn't conducting an inspection—no, Rex had already taken care of that. And done a superior job of it, as always. As first-in-command of the 501st, Rex was not part of the operational command of the ship any more than General Skywalker or General Kenobi were. Admiral Yularen was the ultimate authority over shipboard activities, but the responsibility for both the 212th's and the 501st's ships and equipment lay with their commanding generals.

Both Generals Kenobi and Skywalker kept their battalion areas neat, clean, and organized. To to be more accurate, their first-in-commands kept them that way. Cody and Rex were masters of getting things done quickly and thoroughly. Redeployment preparations always ran the risk of being accomplished in a haphazard, half-finished manner, especially when shore leave was being dangled tantalizingly at arm's length.

But as Ahsoka strolled past the rows of sleeping gunships, she noted with satisfaction that even the hangar floor was spotless and gleaming. Everything was quiet and peaceful, with only the hum of machinery set on low power to accompany her.

It felt good to be back with her battalion. It felt good to be back with Anakin.

It had not taken her as much time as she'd imagined to get over her upset at having been left behind during the Battle of Kamino. The men had regaled her with accounts of the action and expressed how they wished she had been there with them. That had gone a long way towards making her feel better.

The one person she hadn't yet had a chance to speak to one-on-one was Rex. Yes, she'd seen him many times since rejoining the battle group, but there had always been many other people around, discussing the business of war, demanding his time or her time. And now, the captain had left the ship and set off on ten days of shore leave. Unless she found a reason to contact him, that was ten more days of no Rex at all. And this bothered Ahsoka, for she wanted to see what, if anything, she could discern in his demeanor that might speak to the events on Bertegad and just how firm his attachment to the Doma was – not that she wanted to test it, just . . . ascertain its strength.

The sound of something hitting the floor hard behind her startled her. She whirled around and drew in a breath of relief to see BB rising from a crouch-landing.

"BB."

"Sorry if I scared you, Commander," the pilot apologized. "I was finishing up some minor adjustments in the cockpit."

"You didn't scare me," Ahsoka replied. "I was surprised, though. I didn't know anyone was still here."

BB smiled. "You couldn't sense my presence in the Force?"

Ahsoka simpered. "By now, you should know that's not how it works," she chastised with a hint of playfulness in her voice. "We're not attuned to every presence at every second." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Although I should be fully attuned to you. You're a little hard to miss."

BB thought this was a funny thing to say, given that he still sported the standard Fett appearance, the only deviation being the a small full color tattoo of the 212th's crest high on his left cheek. "I'll take that as a compliment, ma'am."

"We're off-duty, BB. You can call me Ahsoka," the padawan informed him.

"Eh, not quite sure I'd feel comfortable with that just yet," BB replied. "Someday, but not yet."

Ahsoka warmed to his words. "Okay. But I still get to call you BB, instead of CT-8761."

"Agreed."

They continued through the hangar together. "Heading into the city tonight?" BB asked.

"After I'm done here," Ahsoka replied.

"Care for some company?"

Ahsoka considered. "Yes, I think I would." She pointed a finger at him, "But only if you promise not to get into any trouble."

"You must be thinking of someone else, Commander," he replied with a wink. "I never get in trouble. In fact, I'm usually the one getting others out of trouble."

And as a pilot who specialized in extractions, he was telling the truth in more ways than one.

"Well, I can guarantee you, you won't have to get me out of trouble," Ahsoka beamed.

"Then we'll meet at disembark 2 in . . . an hour?" BB suggested, referring to the main disembarkation ramp for the Resolute.

"Oh, I don't need that long. Make it thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes it is, Commander."

"Your comlink is buzzing again."

"I told you, it can wait," Anakin said, his voice distant and filled with the breathy stupor of a man coming up from the depths of love-making.

Padme stroked the back of his head as he lay with his cheek nestled against one breast. "It could be an emergency."

"Like the emergency meeting you pretended to be at?" Anakin challenged, a smile forming on his lips.

"I wanted to surprise you, so I had to make it convincing," she tittered. "The Senate has emergency meetings all the time. I knew you'd believe Threepio when he told you."

Anakin chuckled. "I can't believe you convinced Threepio to lie." He raised his head and pressed a gentle kiss under her chin. "Getting the droid to do your dirty work?"

"I'll use whatever assets I have at hand," Padme purred. "And you know, I have a lot of assets."

"Oh, I definitely know that."

The comlink continued to buzz. "Ani, you'd better answer that. They've been trying all night. Soon, they're going to send someone out to look for you."

Anakin groaned in displeasure as he got up to pull on some clothes. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He could not answer the comlink call from Padme's apartment, for if anyone ever decided to be clever and trace the signal from his communication, they would be able to see that he'd been at a senator's house at two o'clock in the morning. And that would raise all kinds of questions.

So, he took his speeder and drove several blocks away to one of the active and hip areas of the all-night Coruscant entertainment hub. No one would be surprised to discover he'd been in this area all night. On his way, he noted that the incoming communique was from Obiwan.

Of course! Leave it to Obiwan to disrupt a night of blissful reunion.

"Obiwan, this is Anakin."

"Anakin, where have you been? I've been trying to get you for hours."

"I didn't have my comlink with me, Master," Anakin replied. "What's going on? It's almost two-thirty in the morning."

"Sector Six Headquarters has called an emergency holocon," Obiwan replied. "GAR Ops tasked our battle group to be present."

Anakin scowled into the neon-lit night. "I hope this doesn't mean they're going to cut into our shore leave."

"I can almost guarantee it will. You have twenty minutes to be at GAR Headquarters in War Room Five."

"Do I need to bring Rex—"

"I already contacted him when I couldn't reach you. You better get on your way. I'll see you there."

"Right, see you there."

Anakin closed the link, and his thoughts went instantly to Padme. "She's not going to like this . . . "

Upon entering War Room Five with less than a half-minute to spare, Anakin was happy to see Rex was already there, in full armor, helmet balanced between his forearm and hip, looking as bright and alert as ever. It was a relief, too, for Anakin himself, having raced back to Padme's to dress appropriately, was still pulling himself together as he walked into the room.

To Rex's right, Obiwan gave a subtle disapproving shake of his head, as if he could not believe that his former padawan was not only borderline late but also looking as if he'd rolled straight out of a bunk wearing the same cloths he'd slept in. Beside Obiwan, Commander Cody stood still and observant.

There were at least six holographic images around the projection grid. Two were from Sector Six, two from Sixth Army, and two (one of whom was a Jedi) from one of Sixth Army's premier combat units, the 808th Infantry – the Womp Rats, as they liked to call themselves.

Right away, Anakin had a feeling that bad news was coming. The 808th was operating on Kettrun, a planet well-known for harboring terrorists and operating terrorist training camps supporting the Separatist cause. Kettrun attracted malcontents from the hundreds of worlds comprising the Separatist movement or simply disaffected souls whose overriding desire was to inspire terror in the hearts of peace-loving peoples.

The 808th had gone there as part of a planetary-wide invasion. Last word Anakin had heard was that the invasion was going well, wiping out many of the training camps. The fact that an emergency holocon had been called might be an indication that things were not moving as smoothly as reported.

The presiding officer over the meeting was General Pehn-na'qa of Sector Six Headquarters. He was a humanoid, non-clone man hailing from Bespin. A revered combat commander, his presence merited great respect.

"Gentlemen, we have a situation on Kettrun," he began without fanfare. "The Separatists have sent four droid combat brigades to Kettrun to defend against our attacks on the terrorist training camps. The 808th, along with three other combat and support battalions, has been diverted to combat the droids. Ninety percent of the camps have been destroyed, and it'll take a hell of a long time for them to be returned to any useful status. But the largest camp is still intact. It needs to be taken out, and we don't have the resources to do it. This base—" The holomap brought up a three dimensional image of a great rift covered in jungle. Zooming in, the image dashed below the tree-top canopy to reveal a sprawling, single-story facility. "This base is your target. We estimate between three-and-four thousand combatants are there. But it could be as many as six thousand. A droid contingent has been deployed there for additional protection." A pause, as he turned to his companion. "General Medge."

Medge, the Sixth Army Commander, was a striking figure with skin as black as the Pools of Melkion and a deep voice that seemed to reverberate even through the mechanism of the hologram.

"A small strike force can sneak into the area undetected, set charges, and take out the entire complex," he began. "The reasons for a small force are simple: it will be easier to get past the patrols, they can move quicker than a large element, and . . . frankly, we don't have the manpower for an overwhelming assault."

"Can't you just fire some missiles from one of your ships in the atmosphere, General?" Obiwan queried.

"We could, if we could get past the Separatist battle group," Medge replied. "I'm down to sixty percent of my ships. My ground units have lost almost fifty percent of their men. The Separatists are putting up a fight to protect this place, because they use these trained terrorists to spread panic and fear throughout the galaxy, and then they offer to protect the citizenry against the very terrorists they themselves are funding. This is how they've managed to bring so many planets into their fold."

Pehn-na'qa spoke again. "Admiral Yularen, Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, I've already put in the request to GAR HQ, and they've approved tasking your battle group with providing the incursion team. They should be transmitting the operations order any minute now. I'm sure they will be contacting you shortly to confirm the order." A pause. "I know you just came off that Kamino business and were looking forward to some downtime. I'm sorry it's turned out otherwise."

"No apologies necessary, General," Admiral Yularen replied. "We'll be waiting for the OPORD from GAR Headquarters."

"Good. Once you receive it, it will give all the details of where the team is to report. Are there any questions?" Pehn-na'qa asked.

"No questions," Obiwanr replied.

"Yes, I have a question," Anakin spoke up.

"Master . . . Skywalker, is it?" Pehn-na'qa acknowledged.

"Yes," Anakin replied. "Intel reports have said that the entire populace of Kettrun is hostile to the Republic, that the entire population is made up of terrorists and those who support them. Is there a reason we're attacking this planet piecemeal? Wouldn't a planet-wide extermination from space be a lot less costly in terms of the lives of our own men?"

A heavy, awkward silence filled the room. Several seconds passed before Pehn-na'aq replied evenly, "Even if such a course of action were possible—and it is not, due to the Separatist Fleet's prsesence—the Republic would never undertake such a drastic action that would render a planet un-usable and possibly kill innocent civilians."

"The only civilians on Kettrun are terrorists," Anakin persisted. "Our own intel agencies say as much. Is it worth the lives of thousands of troopers to fight a ground battle, when we could end it in three or four massive blows? You'd only have to get past the Separatist ships a few times."

"That is not the way of the Republic," Pehn-na'qa said stonily. "The clone Army exists for this very purpose: to fight the war. We try to preserve as many lives—both clone and civilian—as possible—"

"We're talking about terrorists," Anakin interrupted.

"Despite what you may have read in the intel reports, there are likely to be non-combatants on Kettrun. Not every single person there can be a terrorist, and we must do everything we can to ensure they are not caught up in this fight. Using atmospheric weapons would destroy all life," Pehn said with a warning in his voice that he was not appreciative of this particular debate and what he perceived to be insubordination on the behalf of the young Jedi general.

"I'm thinking about the lives of my troops," Anakin stated boldly. "And maybe the only way you'll be able to chase the Separatists away from Kettrun is to make it uninhabitable—"

"Anakin!" Obiwan hissed.

"I appreciate your candor, General Skywalker," Pehn'na'qa said with finality. "We will proceed with the operation as planned."

Both Sector Six and Sixth Army blinked out of the holocon. But before the 808th disconnected, both Rex and Cody made a point of offering a greeting.

"Good to see you again, Snap," Cody said. "I see you're no longer with the Mudjumpers."

"You know how it is with us ARC troopers," Captain Snap replied. "Once we're wearing the pauldron, we're ripe for the picking. The 808th needed a new first-in-command, and I took over about two months ago." Snap regarded Cody through the static image. "What did they do, Commander? Strip you of your kit?"

It was Rex who answered good-naturedly. "The commander's never liked wearing all that stuff. He says it gets in the way."

"Weighs me down," Cody added with a grin. "Looks like we'll be seeing you soon."

Snap inclined his head to one side. "It's a bloodbath here, chaps," he said gravely. "Send as few as you can to get the job done."

Beside him, his Jedi General, Master Shyfa, a Lodarfin male with scales that shimmered like emeralds, added, "Choose wisely. This is no place for Shinies or the weak-hearted."

"We have only the best here," Rex replied.

"Second best," Snap quipped in return.

Cody nodded. "Second best. Hold on as long as you can."

"We have no other choice but to keep fighting," Master Shyfa. "But I fear General Skywalker may be correct. Even if you destroy the base, there is no guarantee the Separatists will abandon the fight. We fight—not to liberate a people—but to eliminate the terrorist threat being created here. The Separatists fight to destroy the Republic. To do that, they must destroy its soldiers. They will continue to fight us here whether the base is destroyed or not. To win this battle, the droid armies must be defeated. Otherwise, you will likely meet the same fate my own soldiers are meeting."

Obiwan, who'd not left the room but rather had moved to one corner to converse with Anakin, now, having overhead much of the conversation, entered into it. "We will do everything we can to carry out our mission. You may be right that the droid armies will keep fighting even after we take out the base; but the purpose it to eliminate terrorist training facilities. That is what we will do. Now, I think it's best if we all stand by and wait for the OPORD to come down."

There was a tacit agreement.

"Hang in there, Snap. It won't be long," Cody said as a manner of parting.

"I hope we meet again face-to-face, Commander."

No sooner had the 808th disconnected than a communication came through. The comm officer loaded it on the projector.

It was the operations order.

"General Kenobi, private communique coming to you on console B," the comm officer announced as the others gathered round to see what their new mission entailed.

Obiwan went to console B. There was an encrypted message from General Pehn-na'qa. It was direct and simple.

"General Skywalker is not to be assigned to this mission."

So, a little bow to the Jogan Fruit Cake in the Evil Intentions episode.