Dear Reader, I am back from my glorious trip! And I came back to news that TCW will be returning to TV? If so, HOW AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL! But now I feel an urgency to finish my story before those episodes air, so that I won't have to change my story :-) Anyway, here is the lead-in to Umbara. I wanted to set the stage. There's quite a bit about Saber Squad up front, because it's very hard to reconcile Jesse of the rest of the series with the Jesse of Umbara. Still, I wanted to try to stay faithful to his portrayal on Umbara, as well as the terrible time Kix has, losing it during the battle, and just the whole mess that was the 501st during Umbara. This chapter is kind of paving the way for some of what you'll see in later chapters. Also, in the series, Fives acts like he's meeting Hardcase for the first time, which I find impossible to believe, given that the two of them served in the same battalion for some unspecified amount of time. So, when that time comes, I will write it as if they know each other from Fives' time in the 501st. I hope you enjoy. Peace, CS
Chapter 94 Stumbling Towards Darkness
"When it comes to marching, many do not know
That their enemy is marching at their head.
The voice which gives them their orders
Is their enemy's voice and
The man who speaks of the enemy
Is the enemy himself."
From a German War Primer
Bertolt Brecht
"We miss ya, brother. It's been a rough few months. We could have used you around here."
"Are you trying to make me feel guilty?"
Jesse smiled. "We'd never do that."
"I'd be with you if I could, you know that."
"Yeah, we know."
There was a moment of silence over the holo channel. Jesse had never been a big fan of long-distance communications. He preferred face-to-face – or at the very least, the short-range comm of a wrist-band or helmet. He was about to resume the conversation, but Hardcase beat him to it.
"You whipping those Shinies into shape? Last time we talked, you said you'd just received a whole frikking shipload of 'em. You must be near full-strength by now."
On the other end of the holo, Top replied gamely, "You're not paying attention to the dispatches. Eh, you never did. That last comm was over two months ago. We've seen a lot of action since then, and they've really stepped up. I'm proud of them."
"I'm sure you've had a lot to do with them coming along," Pitch put forth. "Captain suits you."
"It does, doesn't it?" Top agreed. "All that's missing is you guys."
"Unnnhh, don't start with that again," Hardcase moaned in an overly dramatic manner. "Don't get all sappy – especially when there's nothing to be done about it. You know Captain Rex would never agree to part with us."
"He agreed to part with me," Top replied with equal bluster. "And I'm a much greater loss than any of you."
Kix, who had been standing silently by through most of the holocon, now shook his head and grinned gently. "I see the one thing you didn't leave behind was your ego."
Top inclined his head to the side. "What am I without it?"
Kix was still grinning. "I don't know how to answer that."
"Well, I do," Hardcase jumped in. "You'd still be the same over-bearing, arrogant spawn of a Veluvian Pinswipe that you are now. But without your ego, you just wouldn't know what a jackass you are."
Top made a kissing motion. "I love you, too, brother." A pause. "Have any of you heard from Fives yet? It's been at least six months."
"No," Jesse replied. "We kind of got the sense that he just wanted to sever all connections. He's moved on."
"Yeah. I've heard from some friends on the ARC training staff," Top said. "It sounds like Fives is really making a name for himself. He's going out on all kinds of loaner missions to different units, building up a reputation as a man who gets things done."
"I guess it's what he needed to get past Echo's death," Kix offered quietly.
"It really messed him up that badly?" Top queried.
"It . . . did a number on him," Jesse replied. "They were very close."
"They couldn't have been closer than we are," Top challenged, not in an insulting way but as a manner through which he could assure his squad mates that, even though they were apart, they were not separated.
"Of course not," Jesse conceded with a grin.
"And I take it you're keeping these jokers in line, Jesse?" Top pressed.
"As best I can," came the reply. "But you know how hard it is to keep Kix under control."
Kix raised a dubious brow. "I am the only one who even tries to control myself," he corrected.
"Well, you seem very subdued right now, LB," Top noted. "Even for you."
Kix was not one to cast a pretty veil over ugly truths. "We had major casualties in our last battle. I spent three days on the mortuary team, processing bodies for disposal . . . "
Immediately, the other squad members were on alert. This was a subject they knew was not going to end well, and the quicker they deflected Kix from his recollections, the better.
Pitch was one step ahead of the others. He put a hand on Kix's shoulder. "It was a bad scene. You did what you had to do."
Kix went on. "They had the mobile incinerators running non-stop—"
"Kix." Pitch drew him in a bit closer.
Kix turned his head slowly and regarded his brother with an expression that, while filled with haunting remembrance, contained just enough strength to keep the horror at bay – for the moment, at least.
"No families to notify. They were . . . just numbers to code black in the database." He grit his teeth. "One after the other." A pause. "You can't imagine."
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Again, it was Top who broke through – and not with words of consolation or coddling.
"Stop talking that way, LB," he chastised. "You need to be careful. This is the same sort of thing that got you into trouble before. Look, we all know something in your matrix was fekked up from the beginning, and you feel things a lot more than we do. But you cannot – cannot!—go down that path again. You do your damned job, and put aside the moralizing." He turned a burning gaze towards Jesse, who acknowledged its meaning silently. It was an admonishment.
"You're not looking after the squad the way you should be."
That was Top's message, and Jesse could not deny it. The pace of battle over the past several months had been such that Jesse had barely managed to keep his own thoughts and actions in order, much less keep up with how the other members of the squad were doing. Plus, as second-in-command, he had an entire battalion to keep up with. Rex placed a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, and he'd be damned if he'd let Rex down.
Fortunately, Pitch and Hardcase were indomitable. They certainly did not need looking after, except for Hardcase's occasional bouts with trigger-happiness and Pitch's penchant for blowing up things that did not need blowing. Kix, on the other hand, was often struck with the coldness of what he was being asked to do. As a medic, he had a set of parameters by which to judge who received care and who didn't. If a clone could not be returned to service, he slid down to the bottom of the list. Those who might be able to still fulfill a useful role . . . they might get lucky enough to be dragged from the battlefield and given a second chance. And when all the injured were transferred to the primary medical teams in the rear, all that remained were the dead.
The dead.
So many dead.
And the dead had to be dealt with in one way or another.
To the Republic's credit, it was considered inhumane to leave the bodies on the battlefield to rot and be scavenged. Yet, it had happened more than once. A defeat, a retreat, and the inability to return to the battlefield to reclaim the bodies . . .
To Kix, that scenario might be preferential to the collection of bodies for incineration.
Being detailed to the mortuary team was the job Kix hated the most. And it was the job that caused the most disruption in his mind. Top had been spot on: Kix had a sensitivity the rest of them did not possess; and while it made him a tremendous medic, it also made him more susceptible to the horrific truths of war – the hideous nature of its deaths, the gruesome turn of its injuries.
Most clones were able to move on from the ghastly scenes of death and disfigurement with little more than a vague sense of remorse.
Not so with Kix.
Kix took something with him from every battlefield, from every field dressing station, from every mortuary operation.
And that was what worried his squadmates. Some things were better left behind.
"Don't worry about me," Kix replied to Top's warning. "A few hours of good sleep is all I need. What about the 808th?"
Top recognized a fishing expedition when he saw one. It was a strict rule that even on secure holo channels, no troop movements were to be discussed as part of personal conversations. Only during official holocons with heightened security was the passing of such information permitted. The fact that Kix was inquiring indirectly told Top that the medic wanted to convey something important.
"Awaiting orders," Top replied.
Kix nodded faintly. "So are we. I'm afraid it may be a while before we get to talk to you again."
"Maybe," Top said. "But we will talk again."
Pitch chimed in once more, changing the subject completely. "Did you hear about Commander Tano?"
"No, what about her?" Top asked.
There was the slightest hesitation before Pitch answered. "She left."
"Left? What do you mean, left? Left the battalion?"
"Left everything. She left the Jedi Order. She left the GAR. She's gone," Pitch replied.
Hardcase added ruefully, "Can't say I blame her. I'd have left, too, if I'd been treated the way she was."
"Woah, hold on," Top said, leaning forward into the beam like an old woman after gossip – except that this was a serious matter. The idea that Commander Tano would leave General Skywalker, leave the 501st, , abandon her quest to be a Jedi . . . it was incomprehensible. "What happened?"
"You mean you didn't hear about the bombing of the Jedi Temple?" Pitch asked incredulously.
"I've been dodging blaster fire out here in the hinterlands, Explosives-Man," Top shot back. "I haven't heard anything in over a month!"
"Someone bombed the Jedi Temple, and the Council suspected Commander Tano," Jesse replied without the overly emotional exposition of his fellow squad mates.
Top's face took on a perplexed expression. "Are you telling me the truth?"
"Yes, it's the truth," Jesse replied. "She went on the run, and they chased her for days—"
"Wolffe and his men got demolished," Pitch cut in. "I don't think he's gotten over it yet. You know how he is; he was embarrassed."
"Anyway," Jesse resumed, "It turned out that Commander Tano wasn't the one who bombed the temple at all. It was Barriss Offee."
"You're kidding," Top said, his eyes wide with intrigue. "So, how did they find out?"
"General Skywalker figured it out," Jesse replied. "And the Council exonerated Commander Tano, but it was too late."
"They'd kicked her out of the Jedi Order when she was still the main suspect," Hardcase explained. "They had no hard evidence, but based on suspicion alone, they tossed her to the curb – even Master Yoda chose against her. Only the general believed her. And the captain. He refused to believe she would ever do such a thing. Turns out they were both right."
"But the wound was already too deep," Kix added. "She's lost trust in the Jedi. She didn't know what they stood for anymore. So she left."
"She didn't even say good-bye," Pitch frowned.
"Except to the captain," Kix corrected. "He told us she came to him right before she left."
"I can't believe she'd leave the general's side," Top said, shaking his head. "Damn, I can't believe she'd leave Rex's side."
"Well, she did," Jesse said with a note of finality. "She left all of us. But like Hardcase said, I can't fault her for it. She deserved better."
"Hmm." Top was thoughtful, but he was also pragmatic when the situation called for it. "Have they sent a replacement for her?"
"No," Jesse replied. "I don't think there's a surplus of Jedi or padawans out there."
"Fortunately, General Skywalker is the equivalent of ten regular Jedi," Hardcase said, and it sounded like a boast. "We'll be okay."
"Yeah, well just . . . keep an eye out for each other," Top reminded them. "I may be in the 808th now, but my heart is still with you guys. I worry about you."
"There he goes again, being sappy and drippy," Hardcase groaned.
Pitch smiled. "I knew you missed us."
"More than you'll ever know," came the heartfelt reply. Top's gaze drifted towards Kix. "LB, you keep in mind what I said. Keep that sensitive nature of yours at bay."
"I'll do my best," Kix replied. "But it's not something I really have any control over." He hesitated. "If we don't see you again, please try to be safe. Don't take so many risks."
Top sighed. "I understand what you're telling me, LB." He understood the 501st was heading out for someplace dangerous, a mission from which Kix feared they might not return. He looked to Jesse once more. "I'm counting on you, brother. This is our family we're talking about."
Jesse was his usual even-keeled self. "I know that, Top."
"Good luck."
"Same to you."
Hardcase spoke up boldly. "We'll catch you on the flip."
"I can hardly wait." Top gave them a fly-off salute, and the holo transmission ended.
"Enh, fek! Can I say I really miss him and not sound like a wailing Cwalkil?" Hardcase blurted out right away.
"You miss him because you're so much like him," Pitch grinned.
Kix put forth, "Well, I'm nothing like him, and I miss the hell out of him."
"We all do," Jesse agreed. He spoke with a genuine fondness which belied his degree of fair and reasonable consideration. Jesse could have cultivated a jealousy of his squad mate; for while Jesse had always been recognized as the unappointed leader of Saber Squad, Top had always been the one most likely to inspire his squad mates to new heights. Where Jesse played it safe, Top jumped over the guardrails. Where Jesse advised prudence, Top threw caution to the wind. And when Jesse felt a situation called for tact and diplomacy, Top trampled on delicacy and opted for blunt openness.
However, while Top might be the mover, Jesse was the voice of reason. And in Saber Squad, such a mitigating factor was absolutely necessary.
Only now Top had moved on, and the squad was still feeling its way without him – a truth felt most keenly by Jesse. Jesse had always relied on Top to give action to his plans, to take the first step but without the "shoot first, ask questions never" bluster of Hardcase; to accept the greatest challenges with cautious enthusiasm, unlike Pitch, to whom every challenge could eagerly be solved with the appropriate amount of T4 explosive; to feel the men's joys and sorrows, to share their anguishes, but without the tendency of Kix to be occasionally overwhelmed by those very sentiments.
Top had been Jesse's sounding board – and a perfect foil to Jesse's more regimented leadership style.
Still, Jesse took great pride in the fact that Captain Rex had chosen him to be his second-in-command. And despite Jesse's continued declination of attendance at ARC school, Rex still held him in the highest esteem. Rex trusted Jesse implicitly, and Jesse had never given his captain any reason to doubt him.
If there was one thing Jesse valued almost as much as the relationship he had with his squad mates, it was the good opinion of his captain.
His loyalty was to Rex as much as it was to his squad mates, as much as it was to General Skywalker. The idea of failing Rex in any capacity was not something he had even contemplated, and he could not conceive of any set of circumstances that would change that.
"Huh, they're not giving us much time to prepare. We haven't even received all our replacements yet. That last action on Jodphur cost nearly a third of my men. Victories are getting harder and harder to come by. And Umbara's not going to change that trend."
Rex leafed through the intel reports again. He would go through them with more specificity and attention-to-detail later on, after he'd taken care of the much-hated task of arguing with Sector Headquarters to get on the ball and send him more men. He wanted to be at least ninety percent of his authorized strength when the 501st touched down on Umbara.
Numbers had become even more important now, what with the loss of Commander Tano. That had been a blow. And a shock. Even so, Rex had held his tongue then, and he maintained that he'd done the right thing with his silence. It had not been up to him to try and talk her out of leaving. He could not fault her. How could she ever hope to trust once again those who had accused her?
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" That was the only question he'd asked her.
"I don't want to do it. I want to believe that there's still something worth holding onto. And maybe one day, I'll find that there is. But right now, I have to go, Rex. I can't stay here and pretend to be a part of something that I don't believe in anymore." The sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. "Something that didn't believe in me, that turned its back on me."
It had been a honest answer, and Rex had respected her for it. "I never turned my back on you. Neither did General Skywalker."
"I know that, Rex. You've been a good friend. Say good-bye to the troops for me. I'm going to miss fighting alongside them. And Rex . . . keep an eye my master. I know he thinks he doesn't need anyone looking after him, but he does. Please, just . . . make sure he stays out of trouble." A pause. "I feel like things are changing. Something is happening, but I can't put my finger on it. I fear for him sometimes."
"No worries, Commander. I've got his back."
"Thanks, Rex. I've always been able to count on you. After Anakin, I'm going to miss you most of all."
Those were her last words to him. After that, she'd left and hadn't been heard from since. And although Rex did not want to admit it, somehow everything had grown darker since that day. Not darker because of Ahsoka's absence, but darker in the sense that the news from all fronts was starting to turn. The Republic was being handed more defeats. More Jedi were falling in battle. Once-loyal planets and systems now wavered or even went into the Separatists' column. Even the basis for the war was being challenged, calling into question the very necessity of existence for Rex and his brethren. Once the fighting was over, what would become of them? If the war were brought to a more immediate end through truce or surrender, what then?
Rex had overheard Senator Amidala speaking to General Skywalker about the logistical and social nightmare of placing and providing for millions of clones in the war's aftermath, in the event that the Republic was the victor. Apparently, she had tried to broach the subject in the Senate, but very few shared her concern. However, it seemed just as likely—at this moment in time—that the Republic might be defeated, in which case the clone's future was clear: they would all be terminated. The Separatists would not tolerate their existence.
It was a quandary that rose more and more frequently in Rex's mind these days. He'd always hoped that he would survive the war and have access to whatever life awaited him afterwards. That glimpse of freedom as captured in the night hawk way back in ARC training . . . it still had a prominent place in his thoughts; but the reality of that freedom was growing more obscure with each passing day.
And so, as far as Rex was concerned, the present was all that mattered. He dared not think ahead to the future, to any possible reunion with Maree, to any life of tranquility on Bertegad. Instead, he focused his thoughts on serving and protecting his general and his troops.
He would continue to be the best officer he knew how to be.
And Umbara would put those skills to the test.
The door buzzer sounded, and Rex called out an invitation to enter.
The door slid open and Cody came into the room.
"Commander."
"I just came by to see how your battle prep is coming along," Cody said, making himself comfortable in the single guest chair inside Rex's small quarters.
"Slowly," Rex replied honestly. "I've got a lot of things going on. My main task has been to bring the battalion up to strength. It's like trying to wrestle bones away from a rancor. All they want to give me are Shinies. I need some experienced troops. I'm at fifty percent in non-coms, and I'm down three company commanders. You'd think they could scrape up three lieutenants."
"The entire GAR is thin right now in mid-level leaders," Cody stated. "I think the eight-month expected life span of a clone on the battlefield has dropped down to six months. Either way, it's pretty sad to think that eight months makes someone a veteran troop."
"Yeah. To me, that's still Shinie."
"That's because you and I have outlived so many of our own troops," Cody opined. "We must seem ancient to the new lads."
"Huh, chronologically, we're not even thirty yet," Rex replied with a shadow of a grin. "Hell, I'm not even twenty-six. But I guess to an 18-year-old, that seems old." A pause. "You knew they were bringing them onboard at nine years, didn't you? They've shortened training to keep up with demand. It bothers me."
"There's little difference between 18 and 20," Cody pointed out. "They're capable, and that's what matters." He drew in a deep breath. "Because it's going to be a mess down there."
Rex nodded. "The Umbarans have weapons we've never even seen before. Judging from these intel reports, they're well-armed and well-trained. And they're over 8 million strong, planet-wide." Rex tossed the report onto the table. "We don't even have a million men to cover all the planetary insertion sites."
"We have to fight smarter than the enemy," Cody said.
"Sure, but these aren't a bunch of dolt-headed droids we're going up against," Rex countered. "These are trained soldiers who can think and adapt to the situation. And they're ruthless. Look at this." He shoved a pile of holo-prints across the table.
Cody only needed to look at the first three or four to get the idea being conveyed. The images of war atrocities did not surprise the commander, for he, too, had heard of the Umbaran's ferocity and tendency towards degradation of both the living and the dead; but he did not need to see such images to disgust or motivate him towards doing his best. That desire was at the top of his priorities each and every day.
"They're brutes," Cody acknowledged. "But they've chosen their side, and the Republic needs to gain control over these expansion supply routes. Umbara happens to be one of the more pivotal planets on one of the more crucial routes. We have to meet fire with fire. I don't imagine there'll be much prisoner-taking in this one – on either side."
"I think you're right." Rex stood up and went to the food dispenser for a cup of something with a lot of stimulant in it. "It's going to be a long four days planning for this thing. General Skywalker wants to meet with me and my lieutenants tomorrow at 1900 for our first round-table. Care for a drink?"
Cody opted for the opposite of Rex's stimulant and went with a relaxing glass of Stovian sweet water.
"Missions come up so quickly," the commander noted. "We barely have time to make plans." A wry grin. "Good thing we have excellent battle planners."
"You're right about that."
A brief silence fell between them, broken when Cody, setting his glass aside, leaned forward thoughtfully.
"Say, Rex, I've got an idea how you can make up for at least some of your missing NCO ranks," he put forth.
"Let's hear it."
"Well . . . "
Rex still wasn't sure he'd made the right decision.
But General Skywalker had been so enthusiastic about the idea . . .
And surely the passage of time had made a difference. Why, Rex had heard plenty of accounts of Fives' acumen and daring on the battlefield over the past six months. It appeared that his reassignment to the ARC loaner battalions had resulted in positive outcomes. He'd been sent on temporary duty to well over a dozen different units; from all accounts, his performance had been nothing short of outstanding.
And the 501st was still short-handed in the middle ranks of non-commissioned officers. Fives, now a sergeant, would fill the bill. Plus, he knew a lot of the 501st soldiers; so he wouldn't be among complete strangers. And for the Shinies, he would be able to set the sort of example only an ARC trooper could set.
Yes, Rex went through all the convincing arguments in the two days since the announcement that Fives would be augmenting the 501st. He wasn't scheduled to arrive until the very day of the deployment, but that was fine with Rex. He knew Fives was a quick study, and to own the truth, he wasn't quite sure what the tenor of their reunion would be.
When he'd taken up Cody on his clever suggestion that the 501st put in a request for ARC augmentation, Rex hadn't the slightest idea that the augmentation would come in the form of Fives. Nor had he imagined that there would be only one augmentee. That alone was testimony to how strapped the GAR was for manpower. The ranks of ARC troopers was dwindling as more and more died in battle.
While Rex had experienced reservations upon hearing that Fives would be coming, General Skywalker had been thrilled.
"We need someone with his kind of experience," the general had said approvingly. "And it will be good to see him again. You must be pretty happy with their choice."
"He'll bring a lot to the battle, General." Rex's reply had been carefully formulated not to express excitement that he didn't feel. He would judge Fives' presence just as he would just any other clone's: by their contributions to the war effort.
And now the moment had arrived.
The arrival of Fives' fighter had been delayed several hours, resulting in him reaching the Resolute just as the final mission brief was beginning. The briefing was held on the hangar deck, and Fives scurried up to join the tight circle of men with only seconds to spare before General Kenobi began laying out the mission goals one final time.
"Masters Krell and Tiin will be supporting my troops in the south, while Anakin's battalion comes in from the north and takes out enemy reinforcements," Obi-wan said as a manner of reviewing, referring to the holomap of the region. "It is imperative that we conquer the capital city as quickly as possible and hold it."
Anakin stepped forward. "Our biggest problem is going to be the local militia. The Umbarans have allied themselves with the Separatists and are heavily armed." He took the opportunity to welcome his augmentee. "ARC trooper Fives will be assisting my units on special assignment."
"Ready to do my part, General Skywalker," Fives replied smartly.
Rex recognized the zeal in his voice. This seemed to be the Fives he had once known, the Fives of the Rishi Moon, the Fives of the assault on Kamino. A soldier ready, willing, and able to get into the fray and show his mettle. Rex's sense of misgiving abated a bit.
"Nice to have you onboard," the captain said, turning to his former trooper.
"Just like old times, Rex," came the warm reply.
As a greeting, it was innocuous enough, but it showed Rex just how much the relationship between them had changed. Fives, while assigned to the 501st, would never have considered referring to his captain by only his name. He would never refer to any senior officer by just the name. He would have always put the rank first. Given that he was now a sergeant, protocol and discipline would have mandated that he continue the practice. But perhaps being an ARC trooper and going from unit to unit had lessened the stringency of that rule.
Regardless, Rex was not going to make a fuss over it. He was just happy to see Fives again and have him at his side going into what was going to be a difficult battle.
"Remember, Anakin," Obi-wan continued, "Cody and I will be 12 klicks to your south. We're counting on you to take out those local fighters or I'm afraid the capital will never surrender."
Anakin feigned a complaint. "Does my battalion have to do everything?"
Obi-wan did not miss a beat. "You seem to always volunteer."
As the briefing concluded, the men headed towards their ships.
Rex slapped the side of the old war horse meant to carry him down to the surface. She was the same gunship he and General Skywalker took on the majority of their missions, and she'd taken on an almost living aspect. "One more time, beauty," Rex said under his breath. He then raised his head to regard the two pilots who were finishing up their pre-flight, canopies still up. "BB, Hoz . . . get us down safely."
"That's the goal, Cap'n," BB replied while Hoz gave a loose salute.
"Be careful, you two." This was General Skywalker's voice. "The Umbarans will be targeting the cockpits. Hoz, you'll need to keep your eyes peeled. Don't rely on scanners. Scanners may show you the danger too late to do anything about it. Trust your own eyes. Trust your instincts."
Any word of advice, especially regarding flying, that came from General Skywalker was taken to heart and seen as a personal boon. It was a sign that the general took each and every job the troops performed with the utmost seriousness. If he took the time to offer a word of warning, advice, or encouragement, such gems were treasured by the men.
BB and Hoz weren't even members of the 501st. They were both 212th-ers, but that did nothing to lessen the sense that General Skywalker's words had been imparted as special gifts.
"Will do, Sir," Hoz replied. "I won't let anything get through to us."
Anakin nodded. "Then let's load up. Time to get moving."
And so it began.
NOTE: The question has come up of why I wrote Ahsoka's departure prior to Umbara. Full disclosure: it was simply an oversight on my part. However, I don't plan to rewrite the chapter, since I wanted to address her departure without giving it its own main storyline. Flashback seemed the best way to do that. After Umbara, it's Fives' death, Echo's return, and then straight into the climax arc of the story (which is what I'm anxious to get to); so I have to try and tie up loose ends as I go along. But mainly, Ahsoka's "early" departure was simply me not remembering that she was in the Umbara arc at all! Es tut mir leid!