The Resolute

Day Ten, late morning

When Thirty-Eight entered the Resolute's bridge, General Skywalker was speaking with Admiral Yularen at the holotable.

"Sergeant!" the general greeted cheerfully, looking up. "Cody informed me you're on your way to rendezvous with General Secura."

"Yes, sir." Boss came to a halt and saluted both officers. Admiral Yularen nodded in reply, then went off to speak with one of the navigators. "We'll be under her command until the mission on Jedha is complete."

"Right." The young Jedi general folded his arms. "And did Cody mention my request?"

"Yes, sir."

Skywalker eyed him for a moment. "And . . .?"

Before Thirty-Eight could decide whether to begin with, "I have some reservations," or "to be honest, sir," or simply to say, "I think it's a terrible idea", the Jedi raised a hand to stop him.

"I know it was sudden, Sergeant, but let me explain," he said placatingly. "The Five-Oh-First is headed into a major engagement. It'll be us and the Two-Twelfth and the One-Oh-Fourth against an entire planet – which means aerial invasion and constant redeployment. Non-stop battles over difficult terrain to take a key point, then lift off and land, fight our way to the next outpost . . ." He waved a hand. "You know how planetary invasions work. Ahsoka's not ready for that, not on this scale, no matter how much she thinks she is."

He folded his arms. "I don't want to leave her on the Resolute unless I absolutely have to – if something goes wrong, we could lose the whole ship. . . But also, we're in the middle of the Outer Rim. I can't send her back to the Temple alone."

Boss failed to understand, despite his best efforts. If Ahsoka Tano couldn't be sent back to the Temple because it was too dangerous, then what in space was she doing in active war zones in the first place?

He registered an instant later that his thoughts must have shown on his face, because General Skywalker was watching him with a knowing, bitter smirk. "You're right, you know," he muttered, then sighed. "She's . . . young. Normally, padawans of her age would only just be starting to go on more dangerous missions with their masters, and they wouldn't be fighting a war. No padawans would be fighting a war."

Anger brushed over the general's face and was gone. He tapped his prosthetic hand nervously against the opposite forearm, then straightened as though tossing the thought aside.

"Ahsoka's very capable, Sergeant, and it'll do her good to be on a different kind of mission for a while. I was considering leaving her on Pantora, but there's nothing for her to help with, there. And when Cody reported to me about General Secura being on Jedha, and you joining her – well, I think it'll be better."

"It could be, sir." Boss frowned a little. "But we know nothing about this mission, General. It could be very high-risk."

"Not the way as a major battle would be," General Skywalker said. "Ahsoka's endangered herself before, trying to protect all her men. That's – well, that's what a Jedi's supposed to do, but she doesn't have the level of control and experience needed to pull it off all the time. All it takes is a single distraction, missing that one laser . . . I think a smaller mission will help her gain experience without unnecessary risk."

"I can't guarantee her safety, General," Boss said. "I can't guarantee any of my team mates' safety on any mission, no matter how small."

"I understand," the general said sincerely. "But I've worked with you, and I trust you and your men to do your best."

"Thank you, sir, but –"

"I'm sure Ahsoka will be fine. Even without your squad, Sergeant, you're more capable than any of my own troopers – well, except for Rex . . ." He paused, as though considering, then added, "Oh, and Sergeant? About the difference in rank – I am putting Ahsoka under your command for the duration of the mission. She might have the rank of commander, but that's. . . an official thing. She doesn't have anywhere near your experience. So, when General Secura isn't immediately present, Ahsoka will be deferring to you."

Boss nodded slowly. For some reason, he had simply assumed that as a Jedi youngling, Ahsoka would be taking orders from General Secura. It hadn't occurred to him that the padawan technically – automatically – held the same rank as Advisor. "Yes, sir," he said. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Only that Ahsoka's very strong-willed," said General Skywalker.

Boss hesitated. "She doesn't take orders well, sir?"

"No – she . . ." The Jedi frowned again. "She hasn't disobeyed orders in a while."

She disobeyed them at all? Boss thought, surprised and even more concerned than before. If he couldn't be sure that she'd follow his orders . . .

"That's partly my fault," General Skywalker admitted, rubbing his chin. "As a general, I often make decisions that go against the original plan. As a Jedi, I do the same thing – more than I should. Ahsoka had the same tendencies even before becoming my padawan." He sighed, then met Thirty-Eight's eyes. "In her defense, the only times I've known her to disobey are when she's convinced that she's right."

"That's still a problem, sir," Boss said flatly, wondering if the general would make it a direct order for the squad to take her with them. "I don't –"

"I wasn't the best example for her," the general told him; for some reason, Boss suddenly realized how young Skywalker himself was, for a general. "But like I said before, it's been months since she's disobeyed orders, especially while on the battlefield. She'll argue with me when we're planning, sure, but when it comes down to it, she'll listen."

Boss stared out the viewport at the twisting whirls of hyperspace, liking this whole idea a lot less than he had before. "Sir . . ."

"Trust me," General Skywalker said. "Ahsoka won't interfere with your mission. In fact, half the time you probably won't even know she's there." He paused, then grinned a little. "Okay, you'll probably know she's there. Ahsoka asks a lot of questions. But she won't be any trouble for you."

Thirty-Eight gave up on trying to word his refusal correctly and went straight for the throat. "General, are you ordering us to take her with us?"

"If I have to, yeah." To Thirty-Eight's surprise, the general sounded remarkably casual, not offended by the question at all.

"Understood." Boss held back a sigh. "The Predator's docked in Hangar A. We'll be heading out as soon as the Resolute exits hyperspace."

"Very good, Sergeant." General Skywalker studied him for a moment, then smiled. "I think this mission will be good for Ahsoka. Maybe she'll even learn something about protocol and the value of experience over simple enthusiasm. Captain Rex will bring her to the Predator within the hour."

"Yes, sir."

The general gave a firm nod and stepped back. "Dismissed, Sergeant."

Thirty-Eight saluted, turned on his heel, and left the bridge. In the hall outside, he commed Fixer. "Everything ready?"

"I'm loading the grenades now," Fixer answered, then stayed on the line.

Boss cleared his throat. "Ahsoka Tano will be joining us on this mission."

"Understood, sir," Fixer said neutrally. "Any further orders?"

"Negative. I'm going to check in with Advisor." Boss signed off and headed back onto the bridge, where he moved to the long-range comm station and faced Admiral Yularen, who was reading through a data manifest. "Admiral. Requesting permission to contact CC Oh-One slash Four-Two-Five, squad advisor, aboard the Prosecutor."

"Granted." The admiral didn't even look up from his work, and his tone was so vague and preoccupied that Boss couldn't help but wonder if he'd have given his permission even if Boss had asked to speak with Chancellor Palpatine. With that amusing thought, the sergeant waited for the comm to be activated, then punched in the long code.

Advisor appeared within seconds. "Delta Thirty-Eight, nice to see you. I hear Commander Cody picked your squad up for reassignment."

"Yes, sir," Boss replied, unsurprised at this point by how fast Advisor gathered intel. "We're under the direct command of General Secura until the mission's been completed. Sorry, you'll have to make do with inferior squads for a few days."

"I'm sure I'll manage," Advisor said in a dry tone. "Theta Squad will be glad to get an opportunity at some of the higher-profile targets. The Deltas have taken the last five."

"The Thetas? I guess they should have a chance," Boss said generously. "Their reputation could use the help. Tell Sergeant Dire and his boys good luck."

"Will do." Advisor turned away from the comm, spoke to someone behind him, and turned back with a resigned expression. "Dire says you're the ones who'll need it, and that he hopes you crash at least once."

"We won't," Boss promised, speaking louder. "Fury's the one who does that. Has he destroyed any more GAR ships lately?"

"I heard that, and no I haven't!" came through the comms, followed by Deadeye's voice – "Actually, that kinda depends on your definition of 'lately' –" Dire's, "It was a full week ago!" and a smack. That last had probably been Tracer hitting Deadeye.

"I'll report in as soon as the mission's complete, Advisor," Boss said, in his most formal tone. "Then you can send us to pick up the pieces of Theta's mission."

And he signed off before Theta Squad could properly retaliate.

Smirking to himself, Thirty-Eight left the bridge. Delta and Theta squads hardly ever crossed paths anymore, as their downtime never overlapped. However, since a good year before the war began, whenever they were within hearing range – either in person or long-distance – they always made sure to insult each other, somewhat to the annoyance of those around them.

Given that they were almost never on the same planet or ship at the same time, insults were now most often traded via comm or via Advisor, whichever was more convenient at any given moment.

It was just as well that Boss hadn't had Six-Two with him just now. Scorch and Fury had a running feud that was more cheerfully violent than the overall Delta-Theta feud. Scorch said it was because Fury was both the demolitions expert and the pilot (as Scorch didn't like piloting), but Boss was positive that it was because both Scorch and Fury had chosen yellow paint for their armor markings.

As a matter of fact, Boss had plenty of proof that this was the case.

Where most other commandos chose one color to distinguish their squad from other squads, the Deltas had decided early on to paint their armor distinctly from one another – less because they thought it was unique and more because they hadn't been able to agree on a squad color.

Then, not a week later, Theta had followed their example. Boss didn't think that was a coincidence at all: Theta had just seen the Deltas' differently-colored armor and liked the idea.

But really, Boss didn't care, and neither did Fixer or Sev. However, when the squads next met up, and Scorch realized that he and his fellow demolitions specialist not only had the same color, but very similar markings, well. He'd accused Fury of copyrighting.

Delta Thirty-Eight smiled faintly as he remembered the yelling match that had followed while Fixer and Tracer tried to convince Scorch there wasn't a copyright on armor patterns.

It had been a loud and involved argument. Boss had just been trying to figure out what the heck a copyright was while Fury said it wasn't his fault that great minds thought alike; Deadeye threw in a comment that there wasn't a full mind between Fury and Scorch, let alone a great one; Sev agreed; and then Dire told Scorch and Fury to shut up and quit acting like brats.

After everyone cast a concerned look at Theta's sergeant, mostly because of the unusual word choice, they went right back to arguing. Sev told Deadeye, unprovoked, that purple was a seriously weird color choice for a sniper; Deadeye retorted that Sev had no taste and besides Dire had picked green and Fixer wasn't complaining about it; and then Fixer called out that Dire was the sergeant, not a technician.

As if that had anything to do with it.

After that, for some reason, Fixer continued the argument by saying that Tracer, the tech specialist, was peculiar because he'd picked blue of all colors. In reply, Tracer whacked Fixer upside the head and said he liked blue better, otherwise he would've picked green for the sake of annoying Fixer; Dire told everyone to shut up again; Scorch said that all the Thetas were complete weirdos and he was surprised they'd even passed their first test, let alone their finals; Fury said that Scorch ought to know, he was a delinquent and had only passed because of dumb luck; Dire rested his forehead against the wall and sighed loudly; Deadeye said that yes, Scorch was an idiot, and so was Fury; and Boss finally finished researching what a copyright was, decided it wasn't worth arguing over and didn't apply to armor anyway, and reinforced Dire's order with a barked command that made even Fixer jump.

Still amused at the memory of that altercation, Boss strode into Hangar A. The Predator's boarding ramp was down, and the door was open. Fixer was overseeing the clones on duty as they finished fueling up the shuttle. The troopers removed the fuel line, sealed the hatch, saluted Boss, and left.

Well . . . most of them left. Gadget hovered near Fixer, watching over his shoulder as he worked at a control panel. Every ten seconds or so, he'd ask a question, and Fixer would answer patiently.

Thirty-Eight raised an eyebrow, amused by Gadget's continued and obvious hero-worship, and Fixer's uncharacteristic tolerance of the talkative trooper. It occurred to Boss that Fixer was probably unaware of the fact that Gadget hung on his every word, or he'd have sent the younger clone packing.

When Boss entered the Predator, he proceeded to inspect it from cockpit to stern, making sure that there were no loose explosives or weapons out. The Deltas were careful – usually – about their weapons, but with a curious padawan being on board for at least six hours . . . Well. It never hurt to triple-check.

The Resolute

Day Ten, late morning

Ahsoka stared at her master and shook her head once, not sure she'd heard him correctly. "What do you mean, I'm not going with you?"

"I mean exactly what I said, Snips." With an apologetic look in her direction, Anakin slid under the starfighter, felt around the pile of scattered tools that he'd left on the floor, then huffed and reached a hand out. "Hydrospanner?"

"But – Master –" Still struggling to find words, Ahsoka grabbed the hydrospanner and dropped it in his hand. "This invasion is huge. You'll need my help!"

"Don't be too sure of that," he replied, voice muffled by the ship. "We've already got Obi-Wan and Master Koon on the ground. Once the 501st gets there, we'll take care of coordinating the airstrike."

"But I could help with that!"

"No," said Anakin. "Cody and I can handle it. And you wouldn't be sent out in the main invasion force anyway, Ahsoka, so even if you did go with us, you'd just end up sitting out most of the mission."

"You mean I'd be kept out of the way," she mumbled, folding her arms.

"Nope." Anakin slid out from under the ship and sat up, only just missing hitting his head on the wing. "But you wouldn't be in the fight most of the time. Not everything in war is about slicing droids and winning, little one."

Ahsoka sat down on the wing with a huff. When her master spoke in that tone of voice, it meant he had fully made up his mind and would not be dissuaded. A few months ago, Ahsoka would have kept arguing with him, in the hopes of changing his mind at least a little.

Now, though, she only sighed loudly to show her displeasure, then looked at the datapad her master had handed to her a minute ago. "Jedha," she said, letting her gaze flicker over the words. "Kyber crystal thieves and at least one murder."

"Yep." Anakin found the piece he'd been looking for and dove back under the starfighter. "It should be pretty straightforward, but hey, at least it's not a diplomatic mission. And it'll be good for you to have a smaller mission for once, anyway."

Despite his words, Ahsoka was sure that her master just wanted her off the ship because he thought the upcoming battle would be too dangerous. With a shake of her head, she looked back at the screen and tried to find something good about the situation. "Well, maybe I can learn something from Master Vos," she said. "I've never gotten to work with a Shadow before."

"Sorry, Snips, but you won't be working with one this time, either." Anakin squirmed into view again, a smudge of engine grease on his forehead. "Vos was recalled to Coruscant, and you'll be working with Aayla."

Her initial disappointment at not being able to work with a Shadow lightened when she heard that. She hadn't seen Aayla since Maridun. Although the Twi'lek woman was ten years older than Ahsoka, and they'd only spoken once or twice before, they'd gotten along well during the mission. In fact, Ahsoka found it a lot easier to work with Aayla than to work with Master Luminara or even Barriss, whom she knew well.

"Well," she said. "That's good, at least." Then, turning her head to watch a squad of troopers as they jogged by in formation, she added, "But I still hate running off before an important battle."

"You're not running off." Anakin got up, wiping his hands on a rag that was so greasy it only made his hands worse. "As your master, I am sending you on a different mission. I'm sure Aayla could use your help, even with the Deltas there. Oh, and speaking of the commandos –"

At the sudden change in his tone of voice, Ahsoka looked up, interested. "What about them?"

"I'm putting you under Boss' command for this mission." When Ahsoka pulled a confused face, Anakin explained, "He's the sergeant."

"Well, I know that."

"Good. And I already told him that you're to follow his orders. Or Aayla's, if she's there. Got that, Snips?"

"Yes, Master." Sighing yet again, Ahsoka sat back. She had every intention of obeying the sergeant's orders, but that didn't mean she had to like it. He'd probably keep her on the ship the whole time unless Aayla intervened. Still . . . it was better than being expected to lead a mission while being fully conscious of how little she knew.

"Hmm," said Anakin. He tossed aside the rag, finally giving up on trying to clean his non-prosthetic hand. "Oh, come on, Snips, cheer up. It's not like I'm sending you to escort royalty or anything like that."

"Yeah. . ." Ahsoka met his apologetic gaze and tried to cheer up. "I guess it could be worse, huh?"

"Absolutely," agreed Anakin, smirking. "Remember, you could be pulling guard duty at the Temple library again."

"Ugh, Master. . ." Shaking her head with a reluctant smile, she hopped down from the wing and straightened her shoulders. "Well, I guess I'll see you when the Jedha mission's over, then. Don't get killed."

"Oh, I won't," he replied with a cocky grin. "Be careful out there, Ahsoka, and remember what I've taught you."

"I'll remember, Master," she assured him, and began counting items off on her fingers. "Rush into a fight at the first hint of trouble; settle situations by using a lightsaber instead of words; have way too much confidence in my own abilities as a Jedi warrior –"

"Okay," her master said, rolling his eyes. "That's enough out of you, Snips. Get up to the bridge. Rex should be there by now – he'll bring you to the hangar and introduce you to the Deltas."

"Yes, Master." Ahsoka hesitated at the thought of the upcoming battle, but instead of voicing her concerns again, she only said, "May the Force be with you."

Anakin gave her an almost sympathetic look, as if he knew what she was thinking. "And with you, Padawan. See you soon – and don't get into any trouble that I wouldn't get into."

"Right," she answered. "I'll try to limit it to one kidnapping and a couple explosions, does that sound good?"

"Long as you win," he agreed, already diving back under the fighter.