The Resolute

Day Ten, mid-afternoon

Boss seated himself on the Predator's boarding ramp and re-read the information on Jedha that was in the GAR database. There wasn't much available at the moment, or much that was of immediate use: some history, a few notable geographical features, pages and pages on the more common flora and fauna. . .

It seemed that the most mission-relevant fact listed was that Jedha was a cold desert moon. It was too bad the Deltas didn't know more about the mission itself. There was plenty of time for preparation, and yet he didn't know anything about what he should be preparing for.

He heard the hangar bay door slide open, but ignored it until Fixer, in the shuttle doorway behind him, cleared his throat. Boss glanced up to see Captain Rex approaching, helmet clasped under his right arm as usual. Trotting along beside him was a skinny Togruta girl with wide blue eyes and an open, friendly expression. Two lightsabers hung from her belt, and she wore leggings and a short maroon dress with a low back and no sleeves.

Delta Thirty-Eight eyed her for a moment, then stood and descended the ramp with Fixer.

Captain Rex stopped in front of them and glanced at the Jedi girl. "Commander Tano, this is Sergeant – Boss – and Corporal Fixer."

Fixer's eyes glinted with mirth, and Boss pretended not to notice. Of all things for the squad's straightlaced corporal to be amused by, it had to be the fact that the sergeant's name confused people when they heard it for the first time. Boss hadn't exactly named himself. In fact, it was Fixer who had started it. . . and he'd probably done it on purpose, too.

"Hi," said Ahsoka, with a tiny wave. "So, should I call you Boss and Fixer? Or do you prefer rank?"

"We usually go by Thirty-Eight and Four-Oh in the field," Boss told her. "But name or rank works too."

Ahsoka glanced questioningly up at Rex, who said, "Commandos are a bit different from regular clones, kid – armor's different, training's different – attitude's different . . ." He smirked a little at Fixer's look. "Eh, don't overthink it, Ahsoka. You'll catch up."

Boss wasn't so sure. Ahsoka looked quick and alert, but Jedi or no Jedi, she was small . . . not to mention young. He didn't like this one bit. He liked it even less when he noticed the wide-eyed, concerned look she was giving him. "Commander Tano," he said, trying to phrase his concern correctly.

"Yes?"

Boss gestured at the Predator. "We'll try to make sure you can stay on the shuttle if need be. We want to ensure your safety on this mission."

Captain Rex was studying him thoughtfully, so Boss addressed the next sentence to him. "I don't know how high-risk our mission will be, Captain."

Before Rex could even start to answer, Ahsoka crossed her arms over her chest and bit her lip. "I'm not being sent on this mission so I can hide on a shuttle."

While Boss considered the merits of this statement, she went on. "Master Skywalker wouldn't send me if he didn't think I was ready."

Since Thirty-Eight wasn't sure how to answer that, he said nothing. Meanwhile, Fixer was studying Ahsoka with a look bordering on disapproval.

When the girl met Four-Oh's gaze with a spirited frown, Rex cleared his throat and broke the awkward silence. "Where are Sev and Scorch?"

Knowing Rex wouldn't like the answer, Boss kept his voice neutral. "Testing out jetpacks with your new ARCs in Hangar B."

Rex's face went carefully blank, and the look in his eyes was a strange mix between exasperated and concerned. "They're with Fives and Echo? How did they –"

"We don't know, sir," Delta Forty replied formally. "Oh-Seven and Six-Two requested permission to join them."

"Don't worry," Boss said, by way of reassurance. "I told them I'd leave them behind if they got injured."

Ahsoka covered her mouth with one hand, her whole expression bright again, and Captain Rex shot her a narrow-eyed look. "This isn't funny, kid."

"It is to me." She straightened to attention, holding back a grin. "Well – good luck, Rexter! Take care of everyone."

"I'll do my best, littl'un."

As he started to turn away, her shoulders slumped the tiniest bit, and Rex paused to look down at her. "You'll do fine."

"I know." Ahsoka was trying too hard to sound chipper. "And I'll be glad to see Master Secura again. I'm just . . ." She hesitated, glancing uncertainly at the commandos.

She doesn't want us to hear, Boss realized. Turning slightly away from her, he held the datapad out to Fixer. "Fixer. Is this really all the info we've got on Jedha?"

"Yes, sir." Four-Oh tapped away at the keypad, pretending to be busy. "I can't compile much data until we know what we're really up against. . ."

And he wasn't even trying to compile anything. Thirty-Eight watched Fixer pull up pictures of irrelevant plants and flowers, and pretended not to hear the conversation taking place to his right.

"I'm worried, Rex," Ahsoka said in a small voice. "Master Skywalker doesn't think I'm ready for something as big as the upcoming invasion, and that's why he's sending me away. But I've been in some big battles. And this one will be worse, if and something happens and I'm not here . . ."

This was uncharted territory for the Deltas, and Boss knew that his corporal was as uncomfortable as he was. They exchanged glances, then looked down at the datapad, currently displaying an image of a tiny desert crab.

"It's blue," Thirty-Eight observed.

"Yes, sir."

"Ahsoka," Rex was saying. "You shouldn't worry about what's happening here. If you do that, you won't do well on your mission."

"I know." Her voice was still quiet. "But – the Deltas and Master Secura don't need me. The mission on Jedha will go fine even if I'm not there."

"Maybe it will," Rex answered. "But you don't know that, Ahsoka."

She sighed. "I guess I don't. But if it turns out that Skyguy did need me, or if you did, Rex, or if any of the 501st did and I wasn't there –"

As her voice trailed off, Fixer pulled up a picture of the Temple of the Whills and pointed out a random fact about the architectural structure. Boss pretended to be interested.

"Think of it this way," Rex said. "If you're not with us during the battle, General Skywalker will be more focused. He'll do a better job."

"Because I'm not here for him to worry about." She sighed, hunching in on herself even more. "You're right."

"Always am." Rex's voice was light. "And it doesn't have anything to do with how capable you are, Ahsoka. General Skywalker worries about everyone. It's just what he does."

"Yeah," she agreed, glancing up briefly. "He even worries about you."

"And you know how capable I am," Rex said, pointing a thumb at his chest.

Out of the corner of his eye, Boss saw Ahsoka smile a little and then straighten.

Rex stiffened to attention and put his helmet on. "Focus on your mission, kid, and you'll do just fine." He lowered his voice conspiratorially and added, "And I'll take care of General Skywalker and make sure he doesn't do anything – ah –"

"Stupid and reckless?" she suggested in a mischievous whisper.

". . . I won't tell him you said that, but yes."

Then Rex turned to Boss and Fixer. For a moment, the jaig eyes on his helmet stared at them, and then the captain tilted his head forward and said, "She'll do fine."

Boss did not argue.

Rex saluted Ahsoka, nodded to the Deltas, and left, leaving the Jedi girl staring after him. Only when the hangar doors had closed behind the captain did she turn, offering Boss a small but hopeful smile. "Sergeant," she said. "Do you know what we'll be doing on Jedha?"

"No, Commander."

There was an awkward pause. Ahsoka fidgeted a little, set a hand against the hilt of one lightsaber, and said, "Well, do you know anything about the mission yet?"

"No, Commander." Boss was busy wondering if he should address her as 'sir', or if 'ma'am' would be more appropriate. He hadn't worked with a female Jedi before, and he didn't remember seeing anything about it in the regulations.

"Okay, well . . ." Ahsoka had a determinedly cheerful tone in her voice. "Have you heard anything from Master Vos?"

"No, sir. Ma'am."

She smiled, rolling her eyes expressively. "Look, just call me Ahsoka, okay?"

Boss hesitated. Troopers were not supposed to breach protocol by addressing superior officers by first names – especially not Jedi. But neither were they supposed to breach protocol by ignoring direct orders – especially not from Jedi.

He glanced questioningly at Fixer, then narrowed his eyes. His corporal was intensely occupied with examining a map of an area of Jedha that they weren't even going to. In fact, it was a map of the opposite side of the moon.

"Fixer," said Boss.

"Yes, sir?" Forty glanced up at him, but when it took Boss longer than two seconds to begin speaking, the corporal went back to studying.

Thirty-Eight could – and usually did – smack his teammates upside the head when they acted oblivious or pretended not to know what he wanted them to do, but he didn't think that was appropriate behavior in front of a superior, or a kid . . . and Ahsoka was both.

He clasped his hands behind his back instead and said, "Fixer, any word from Sev and Scorch?"

This time Fixer looked at him knowingly. "No, sir. Given that it's downtime, I had assumed they wouldn't be checking in."

Unbelievable. Dismissing him for the moment, Boss turned to the padawan, who was watching them, arms still folded. "So, you know General Secura, si – Ahsoka. Did you join her on a mission?"

"Yeah." She grinned, revealing sharp canines. "Not on purpose, though. See, a few months ago, she and Commander Bly were trapped on her cruiser, which was getting shot down. Master Skywalker and I went to help, but during our escape – on a shuttle – one of the pilots was thrown into the hyperspace controls. Anakin was too injured to pilot, and I had to take over piloting because Bly said we were headed for a star."

Fixer, abruptly distracted from his pretended studying, looked up and raised both eyebrows in a silent question as to how that had happened.

"Anyway." Ahsoka gestured widely. "I crashed the ship – safely – on Maridun, and we got stuck there for a couple days. The villagers took us in, more or less willingly, because Master Skywalker was injured, and then we fought off Lok Durd and his Seppies and left once the Resolute arrived."

"Lok Durd?" Fixer asked, his tone sharpening with interest. "You mean the Separatist weapons developer?"

"Yep!" Ahsoka perched on a nearby girder, swinging her feet. "Well, unless there's another Neimoidian by that name who tests weapons on innocent villages."

"What'd he look like?"

Her eyebrow markings drew together in thought. "A really fat Neimoidian?"

Thirty-Eight recalled the last picture he'd seen of the warlord and nodded. "That sounds right."

"Hm," said Fixer. "We destroyed one of his research facilities, shortly before Vassek Three. There was a prototype there for a grenade that would destroy organics but not droids."

"Well." Ahsoka frowned. "I guess he improved on the grenade idea afterwards, because he was testing a missile version on Maridun. It was crazy, it burned everything except droids."

Before Boss could reply, the hangar doors slid open, and the sound of loud arguing heralded the approach of four clones: Sev, Scorch, and two ARC troopers, each of whom wore a kama and pauldron. One of the ARCs had a blue handprint on his cuirass – Echo, Thirty-Eight remembered. It looked like he'd gotten new armor, but kept the design.

The second ARC trooper, who was rolling his eyes dramatically at Echo's complaints, was clearly Fives. He looked the same, except that the goatee he was so proud of was more distinct now.

Boss opened his mouth to tell his younger squad mates that Commander Tano was present, but neither of them were paying attention to anything except their argument with the ARCs.

Scorch made a snippy comment that Boss couldn't quite hear, and then Echo shoved him, hard. "That jetpack was fine!"

"Oh, yeah?" Scorch stumbled a couple of steps to the side and shoved the corporal back. "Then why'd I crash into the wall?"

"Because you're overweight," Sev muttered, making Fives snicker.

"No." Echo gave a long-suffering sigh. "It was because –"

"Listen," interrupted Scorch, only a few meters away now. "Just answer this. If that jetpack was fine, then why'd I crash?"

"Because you went too fast!" Echo yelped disbelievingly. "There are regulations and safety parameters for a reason!"

Scorch stopped dead in his tracks, took off his helmet, and turned to regard him in confusion. "Well, yeah . . . but it's not fun that way."

Fives stepped forward and shook hands fervently with him. "You and me both, brother." Using his grip on Scorch to pull him closer, he whispered, quite audibly, "Hey, listen, next time you're here we'll try your idea."

"No, you will not, Fives," Echo snapped, planting a hand on his gun belt. "You can't wire jetpacks together."

"Yeah, you can! Jesse did it with a –"

"No." Echo shook his head fervently. "I don't want to hear about it."

Scorch glanced from him to Fives, eyes gleaming. ". . . Well, I do."

As Echo buried his face in one hand with a groan, Sev elbowed him in a show of solidarity. "Don't worry, ARC. We won't be here much longer."

At this point, Thirty-Eight decided that the comedy routine had gone on long enough. "Six-Two, Oh-Seven," he called. "Pull it together."

"Yes, sir," Scorch agreed, jostling Echo one last time. "Pulling it together, sir."

Sev grabbed him by the elbow and shoved him forward, just as Fives finally noticed Ahsoka.

"Ahsoka!" he exclaimed, sauntering over to where she sat. "Echo and I were going to head up and say goodbye to you. Didn't realize you were here already."

"Yeah, I'm not as slow as I used to be." Ahsoka hopped off the girder and clasped Fives' forearm, then Echo's. "I'll see you boys when I get back. And listen . . . stay alive, okay? That's an order."

Fives saluted with exaggerated fear. "Yes, ma'am."

"We'll be careful," Echo promised.

She smiled and stepped back.

Fives gave Thirty-Eight an appraising look, then saluted him casually. "Keep an eye on her, Sergeant."

It wasn't a request, and Boss nodded his understanding.

With a final wave for Ahsoka, the two ARC troopers exited the hangar, leaving an awkward silence in their wake.

Scorch and Sev were watching the Jedi girl curiously and pretending not to, so Boss cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Commander Tano, this is Six-Two, and Oh-Seven."

Scorch waved to her. "We go by Scorch and Sev, Commander. Glad to have you on board."

"I'm glad to be on board." Ahsoka smiled. "Master Skywalker told me about you guys after the Vassek Three and Rattatak mission."

"Oh yeah, that one," said Scorch, squinting at the memory. "Hey, maybe we'll be able to blow up stuff on this mission, too."

Fixer glanced up. "Thirty minutes until hyperspace drop."

"Right." Thirty-Eight gestured to the Predator. "Comman – Ahsoka, if there's anything you'll be needing, you'd best get it quickly."

Ahsoka put a hand on each of her saber hilts. "I don't generally bring anything with me except my lightsabers," she admitted.

"What." Sev narrowed his eyes. "You don't bring food, or med supplies?"

"I have food!" she defended, touching a narrow leather pouch on her belt. "But just emergency rations."

"What about water?" Scorch asked. "And do you bring a pack or something to carry stuff in?"

"Not usually." Her blue eyes flitted from one commando to the other. "The troopers carry some supplies, but mostly we keep everything at the base."

Sev put his helmet back on. "Well, there's not going to be a base on Jedha."

"But . . ." She looked confused. "I thought the Predator was your base?"

"It is," Boss told her. "When we have it available. But we usually get deployed in active zones. We'll probably have the Predator accessible while we're on Jedha, but don't count on it. In the field, you never know what's going to happen. Only depend on having what you bring with you."

"Okay." She gave a determined nod. "I'll get supplies from the quartermaster. Is there anything else I should bring? What do you normally carry?"

Boss was wondering if she wanted the whole list when Scorch said, "Anything that might be useful on the mission."

"Well, we don't know a lot about what we're doing," Ahsoka said, one finger tapping against her chin as she thought. "But we know where we're headed, so maybe that'll tell us what we need. What about the mission location? What's Jedha like?"

Fixer raised an eyebrow, and his gaze traveled pointedly from her sleeveless, low-backed outfit to her face. "It's cold," he said in a dry voice.

Ahsoka blinked, caught off-guard, and folded her arms. "Okay," she said, a bit defensively. "I'll . . . go grab some warmer things. . ."

Turning on her heel, she walked quickly away.

"Hey, Boss?" Scorch cleared his throat. "Do you think the Jedi know what armor is for? I mean, none of 'em seem to wear it."

"Some do," said Fixer, predictably.

"Yeah . . ." agreed Sev. "At least General Fisto wore vambraces."

"The Jedi's fighting style prioritizes speed and maneuverability," Boss said neutrally, then thought, a little too much, in my opinion. Aloud, all he said was: "Come on, lads. Let's get everything squared away."

As the other three went into the ship, Boss cast a look at Ahsoka just before she vanished from the hangar. She was just a kid, even though she seemed to have a lot of confidence in herself. Captain Rex seemed to have a lot of confidence in her, too; so maybe she did have the skills to back it up. Still, Boss did not like the idea of taking her into battle.

But there was nothing for it. He'd just have to keep an eye on her, and hope that she listened to him.

Ahsoka tossed her pack onto the bed and opened the tiny closet that was set in the wall in one corner of her quarters. The only thing that hung in it was her Jedi robe, which she hardly ever wore. Still, there was a temple on Jedha, and pilgrims often wore robes of some sort; she needed to be able to blend in, just in case.

Jerking the robe off its hook, Ahsoka bundled it up and stuffed it into her pack, her pride still smarting from the disapproving way the commandos had been looking at her. She'd intended to show them that she wasn't just some kid in need of protection, and instead all she'd done was show them exactly how little she knew.

Fortunately, Ahsoka had always been a quick learner. A few months ago, she'd have been tempted not to change into cold-weather clothes, simply to prove that she was strong enough to handle a little discomfort. Even then, though, she'd have known she was being childish, and so would the Deltas.

Ahsoka dug through her pack and replaced her usual clothes with her winter outfit, which was exactly the same as far as color went. The leggings, however, were fleece-lined and lacked the cutouts that her usual outfits had; and the tunic was made of heavier material, as well as being a bit longer – and having sleeves and a back. She also set aside her decorative armbands, which really served no purpose if she was wearing sleeves. She didn't have a secondary pair of gloves, but that didn't matter. As far as she was concerned, fingerless gloves worked best for lightsaber use. . . assuming that her hands didn't freeze to the point of numbness.

Ahsoka adjusted her lightsaber belt, pulled on her boots, glanced down at herself, and gave a satisfied nod. If nothing else, she'd be able to prove to the commandos – especially Boss and Fixer – that she was mature enough to take valid criticism properly.

And she wanted to prove it. She had a feeling that none of the Deltas really wanted her on their shuttle or on the mission. Quite frankly, Ahsoka wasn't used to that at all. She knew she could be annoying, and talkative, of course, and that she asked a lot of questions, but overall, the troopers of the 501st were only too happy to have her around – especially in battle. With the Delta Squad, Ahsoka got the feeling that they thought she was an inconvenience at best.

At least Master Secura would be on the mission. Maybe she would be able to let the commandos know that even Jedi padawans had their uses.

Ahsoka opened the closet for her coat, then remembered she'd already emptied it. Frowning, she looked around. She'd definitely owned a coat, at some point, but maybe she'd left it on Coruscant? Or on Master Kenobi's flagship? Or –

Ahsoka flopped on her stomach across the neatly-made bed and hung over the edge to peer under it. There was her extra locker, half-open, her winter coat crumpled inside along with a spare robe and the long dress she'd had to wear on Naboo for a ceremony.

Oops . . . Guess I forgot to put those away. Ahsoka pulled out the locker and tried to straighten everything, but gave up when she glanced at the chronometer. She had to be on the shuttle in fifteen minutes, and she'd rather be early.

Shoving the locker back with one foot, Ahsoka stood up and tugged on the grey coat. It felt odd, and when she swung her arms to test her range of motion, she realized exactly how little she could move her arms. "Ugh." Ahsoka peeled the coat off. "That's no good."

Holding the hooded coat at arms' length, the padawan considered it. She hadn't remembered about the tight sleeves, because she hadn't worn the coat since Padme first gave it to her as a gift. Although Ahsoka was grateful, she'd discovered very quickly that she was not fond of Naboo fashion. The coat itself fit nicely, not too restricting, not too baggy. . . but for some reason, from the shoulders to the wrists, the sleeves were extremely tight. Not at all like the sleeves she'd seen on Padme or –

Ahsoka grinned at the thought of the ridiculously puffed sleeves the Chancellor wore. Maybe, on Naboo, the nobles' status was shown by the size of their sleeves. The more important you were, the bigger your sleeves were.

Either way, she couldn't maneuver in it, so Ahsoka draped the coat over one arm, grabbed her pack, and hurried into the hall. She definitely wouldn't need her coat on the shuttle, so maybe during the journey to Jedha, she could turn it into a vest. A couple of slices with a lightsaber would suffice – though a pair of shears or a vibroblade would be safer, and would probably make the alterations much less noticeable.