Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cody hasn't slept in two days. Possibly three. He's thinking maybe four, but he's pretty sure someone said that was physically impossible.

Unless you were a Jedi. Cody wasn't a Jedi.

He's pretty sure.

Jedi have lightsabers, yeah. And Cody doesn't have a lightsaber.

Well, actually, he does. Sometimes. He and Obi-Wan just share it. That is a normal Jedi thing, right?

No, Cody realizes, Obi-Wan just has a bad habit of losing said lightsaber. It isn't Cody's fault that he now has a lightsaber hook on his utility belt. It's only practical, since he is forever retrieving Obi-Wan's lightsaber for him. Kept his hands free, since carrying around his Jedi's lightsaber doesn't mean using it.

So, the answer is no. And three days. Standard days, not the thirty-hour days of Utapau. He can't go ninety hours without sleep. Because he isn't a Jedi.

Kriff, he needs sleep.

But there's no time for sleep. The 212th has been going nonstop, and Cody can't leave the front. He'll be fine. Boil already figured out that wherever Cody points, he actually means twenty-five degrees to the right.

And it isn't like Obi-Wan will stop. No, he'd run off on his oversized lizard thing a while ago, chasing after… the robot guy. Furious, or something like that.

Cody doesn't have time to remember names. They are moving too fast, no time to stop, Obi-Wan is up there alone and Cody needs to get everyone up there as fast as he can.

When his holo-transmitter blinks, Cody almost ignores it. Almost hands it to Boil. He's too busy tracking the giant lizard thing carrying his general up the sinkhole walls.

But Marshal Commanders don't ignore calls, no matter how much more important making sure the Jedi didn't die was. He's pretty sure. He needs a shiny to take his calls, let Cody take care of leading.

Unless the call is new orders. Right. That's why he has the transmitter. Receive orders, then resend them to every other battalion. All at once. Yeah. Saved time.

"Commander?" Boil says.

Right. Call. He has a second to spare. But only one, or a few. He doesn't want to look away from Obi-Wan, so he doesn't as he activates the transmitter.

"Execute Order Six-"

Right, right, yeah, Cody has it. He turns off the transmitter, then changes the channels and announces to every battalion spread across the universe.

"Execute Order Six."

Without further ado, Cody chucks the transmitter over his shoulder. It shatters against the rocky ground. Cody then yanks off his comlink and drops it to the ground, where he smashes it under his heel. All across the battlefield, every other clone is doing the same thing.

Job done, Cody returns his gaze to the speck that is his general and his men turn from their brief distraction that was Order Six to keep moving forward. He wonders, briefly, if he should have broken Obi-Wan's radio silence to inform him that the entire battalion was about to join him in radio silence.

Hm. Cody wonders how he is supposed to inform Obi-Wan when the mission is accomplished. And how he's supposed to inform the Republic of their inevitable success.

Hopefully Obi-Wan still has a functional comlink.

Chapter Text

Kit is alive. He's going to be okay.

Monnk will make sure of it.

It's quiet in the abandoned Senate office. Too quiet, under the quiet slice of Monnk cutting Kit's robes away from the ugly wound in his Jedi's stomach. Packaging rustles in his hands as he opens the suture kit.

So Monnk starts to hum.

He knows a lot of songs, in dozens of languages and dialects. He even knows some Nautolan songs, cheery and enthusiastic chants. But none of them seem right with Kit struggling to breathe under Monnk's hands.

Before Monnk knows it, he is humming one of the first songs he learned. He's long since forgotten the words, but the soft, soothing Mandalorian lullaby feels… right. Even Kit seems to settle down, so Monnk hums a little louder.

Kit's going to be okay. Even while alarms blare throughout the building, and Monnk is kneeling in broken glass and stitching up his Jedi beside his smashed comlink, he knows.

Kit is alive. And Monnk is going to keep him that way.

Chapter Text

The sound of a thousand comlinks being smashed at once is truly impressive. The reactions of the Kaminoans -all jump and their heads turn to find the source of the sound coming from everywhere at once- is even more so.

Less impressive, but equally interesting, is that none of the clones seem to realize they've done something extremely unusual. They simply continue with whatever they were doing, pausing only when they step on a destroyed comlink on the commissary floor.

Shaak Ti closes her eyes. At first glance for most people -including Jedi- clones are all identical in appearance. But three years surrounded by clones has taught Shaak Ti on how to pick out the slightest variation in a clone's step, facial expressions, manner of speech, and a dozen other small things.

Most significant, though, is their Force signature. No two creatures truly match in the Force, and a practiced Jedi can pick out a specific creature with their eyes closed. All of the Jedi serving in the war can do so with their commander, and many can locate dozens of their men by name in the midst of a raging battle.

So it comes as a bit of a shock when Shaak Ti reaches her senses across the men under her care. Their individuality is still there, but it's muffled, buried under a sense of rigid obedience.

Shaak Ti opens her eyes as two 104st men walk by. They are unusually quiet for Plo Koon's boys, voices hidden under the same sense of obedience.

"Comet," Shaak Ti says softly.

Comet stops and looks at her. There's a flit of confusion in his eyes, then the stifling sense of obedience is gone and it's truly Comet again.

"Why did you smash your comlink?"

"Because… uh."

Tinker, Comet's younger companion, offers uncertainly, "I can fix it if you want."

"That doesn't matter right now," Shaak Ti says.

Voices are rising around her as mental blocks fall and clones notice all the comlinks on the ground. Hammer, a cluster of younglings hanging off his kama, runs into the room and calls for a comlink. The yell snaps everyone back to themselves.

"They're all broken!"

"Who did-"

"We did, genius!"

"What do you-"

"Why did we-"

Almost imperceptibly, the Kaminoans are slipping from the room. But Shaak Ti notices, and raises her hands for silence.

It takes a few minutes, but it's habit enough for the clones to quiet and listen when Shaak Ti raises her hands. The Kaminoans stop, but not before the closest clones notice and narrow their eyes.

"Master Shaak Ti!"

Shaak Ti turns to where Blitz is leaning over the railing of a bridge. His yellow-striped helmet is hanging casually in one hand and he wears his usual expression of expectant anticipation, but Shaak Ti can feel his shame from across the room.

"All the transmitters are down," Blitz reports. "Maintenance crew took out the entire antenna. And everyone broke their personal comlinks…"

Blitz trails off, just noticing that everyone below is standing in the remains of their own comlinks. The voices are rising again, less frantic and more confused, and Shaak Ti hears one phrase repeated over and over.

"Cody told us to execute Order Six."

"What's Order Six?"

"I don't know about any orders, never mind Order Six!"

Shaak Ti looks over the heads of the clones and locks eyes with the head scientist, Nala Se. Three years surrounded by the Kaminoans have taught Shaak Ti that they are incapable of showing or expressing emotion.

Yet Shaak Ti could almost swear that there's fear in Nala Se's eyes.

Chapter Text

"Where's Fox?!"

The shouted question, accompanied by someone shooting into the office before the door is even fully open, startles Thire so badly that he slams his helmet onto the counter and snaps the first thing that comes to mind.

"Complaints go into the suggestion box!"

The absurd statement -as well as lack of a suggestion box- brings Quinlan up short. He stares at Thire, his expression broadly confused and amused. Thire can't bring himself to care.

Faie, five steps behind his excited Jedi, enters in mid-complaint. "-just go barging into the office! Fox is going to throw you out. Again!"

"Fox isn't here," Quinlan states knowledgeably.

Thire rolls his eyes, again knowing and not caring that Quinlan can see him. He does refrain from calling Quinlan "Captain Obvious," since Fox got annoyed after the last time.

But it's not like there's anyone to hear. Thire's been sending everyone back out in pairs or threes as they return, retrieving patrols and setting up a communication relay using clunky radios that had probably been used back in the Great Hyperspace War.

"It's here, too!" Quinlan suddenly states.

"What is, sir?" Thire asks tiredly.

Quinlan gestures emphatically at Thire's wrist. Thire gazes at the twisted wires coming out of his vambrace, then at Faie's vambrace in a similar state.

"Yep."

"Then where is he?"

"Fox?" Thire toys with the visor on his helmet. "Occupied, sir."

Quinlan throws his hands in the air and stalks down the hall. "I know where his office is."

"I've never seen him so serious," Thire says musingly.

"Fox isn't in his office, is he?" Faie asks.

"Oh, he is. Actually," Thire pulls himself to his feet, "I want to see Qui- General Vos' face. C'mon, Faie, you won't want to miss this."

Faie hesitates, then throws his hands in the air with an exclamation of defeat. Thire doesn't blame him. It's been a weird day.

Thire strolls after Quinlan, finding him right where he expects: standing impatiently outside Fox's locked door. The pocket-sized plasma cutter he's using to try and cut into the door panel is a bit of a surprise, though.

"Sir."

Faie doesn't say another word, but Quinlan heaves a heavy sigh. He puts the cutter away somewhere in his robe. Thire speaks before he can.

"You can see Fox," Thire says. He raises a finger to cut Quinlan off, adding, "But you have to be quiet."

Quinlan raises an eyebrow, but his protests die down. Thire punches in the security code and the door hums open. He glances inside, watching Quinlan from the corner of his eye.

Fox is exactly where Thire left him half an hour before. He's behind his desk and a mountain of flimsy and broken datapads… with a sizable stack piled under his face.

"Is he… alive?" Quinlan asks.

Thire closes the door before answering. "After the order went out, wrecking the comlinks and datapads cut his work in half. It also provided five uninterrupted minutes without someone calling with a disaster."

"So he fell asleep."

At Thire's nod, Quinlan snorts. "Good for him. But why did Faie and you guys -and I'm starting to wonder how many squads Cody sent the message to- wreck your comlinks?"

Thire shrugs. "We'll figure that out later. Right now, we're counting heads and handing out radios. They don't work further than a kilometer, but we're setting up a relay chain and surrounding the Senate building."

"Why the Senate?"

"Something's happening there." Thire raises an eyebrow of his own. "Didn't you see the light show?"

"No, I was on the other side of Coruscant."

Thire almost asks how Quinlan got to the Guard so fast, but one look at Faie's vacant expression suggests waiting to hear that little story.

"Anyway," Thire goes on, "We aren't making any advances on the building yet. Before comms went down, Felix saw General Windu outside."

"Mace will scare anyone off." Quinlan claps a hand to Thire's shoulder. "But, buddy, you've got him a bit outnumbered. And you're also on the same side."

Thire returns the gesture on Quinlan's shoulder because, why not? The day isn't about to get any less weird. Thire's half-convinced he's the one who fell asleep doing reports and is dreaming vividly.

"General Windu was outside the Chancellor's office."

Quinlan squints. "That's at the top of the Senate building."

"Yep."

"So what was he doing?"

"By my best guess… falling."

"He what?!"

"There's no need to shout," Thire says blandly. "The 91st know how to catch."

Chapter Text

"Howl Leader, checking in. Sound off, Howl Squadron."

"Howl One, checking in."

"Howl Two, checking in."

"The original Howl, present and-"

Comms dissolve into laughing protests. Plo Koon leans back with a slight smile, glad enough to give the men a few minutes' respite. He accounts for everyone visually while the bickering builds.

"You're outta line, Howl Three!"

"I'm just saying, I should be Howl One."

"Howl Four checking in, and you're going to have to fight Howl One for the title, vod."

"Name the time and place!"

"I'm pulling rank."

"Coward!"

Wolffe's voice cuts smoothly into the conversation. "I'm not hearing what I think I'm hearing, am I?"

"At the very least, Wolffe should be Howl One."

"He is, when Warthog's grounded. And, yeah, Wolffe. You're hearing it."

"I'm just saying-"

"How about we call you grounded, Howl Three?" Wolffe waits through a beat of silence, then goes on, "There, now just-"

Howling laughter over the comms drowns him out.

"Wolffe just grounded Howl!"

"Someone recorded that, right?!"

"Aw, buir-"

"Incoming transmissions, boys," Wolffe cuts in flatly.

There's a murmur of playful grumbling, but the Howls fall silent. Plo Koon doesn't see any incoming transmission on his console, but Cody's voice echoes through the Howls' transmitters to Plo Koon's.

"Execute Order Six."

The Force fairly jolts, startling Plo Koon so he almost misses the buzz of feedback through the transmitters. All the Howls' ships jerk into sharp turns, and are suddenly out of sight.

"All Howls, report in," Plo Koon says into the transmitter urgently. The speakers buzz quietly with static. "Wolffe, report."

Nothing, but a ship appears at Plo Koon's side. It's Sharp, gesturing fervently at his helmet. Smoke coils from his console.

"Fee," Plo Koon says to his astromech, "Reconnect comms."

Fee gives a low whine.

"Transmitters functional." Plo Koon again looks at Sharp, who raises his hands in a helpless motion. "Hold on, Fee."

Plo Koon swings his ship around, noting with relief when Sharp follows easily. Having turned, Plo Koon can see the rest of the Howls, their ships flying in various directions.

"Odd…"

Plo Koon points to Sharp, then raises the other hand to clasp them together. Sharp nods and gives him a thumbs up.

They catch up first with Howl, who immediately begins speaking to Sharp. Plo thinks at first that the Howls' comms are still up, until he sees all the hand gestures. What can't be communicated through the ARC hand signals Sinker taught them is apparently filled in with the near-telepathic tendencies Plo Koon often sees in batchmates.

Letting Sharp chew out Howl, Plo Koon takes the lead to locate Tac and Warthog, both weaving around each other in an attempt at communication through the transparisteel domes. Their relief is clear when they spot Plo Koon.

Weave is hardest to locate, and Plo Koon thinks at first that he's lost Howl Five. But then he spots Boost headed their way, with Weave on his tail.

Plo Koon nods in approval, then gestures broadly for everyone to follow. He waits for thumbs up from everyone to ensure there's no injuries or damage to the ships besides the transmitters, then gets everyone turned around and headed back toward their cruiser. And hopefully some answers.

Answers are slow in coming, as it took passing across the bridge's sight five times before anyone inside opened the hangar doors. Sinker is waiting as Plo Koon left his ship, spewing apologies in a manner so unlike the normally calm ARC.

The floor crunches under Plo Koon's boot, covered as it is with fine shards of transparisteel. The bay is unusually abandoned, with the few men present gathering comlinks from the floor.

"What happened, Sinker?" Plo Koon asks.

"We're trying to figure that out," Sinker says. His silver-white hair sticks even straighter as he runs an agitated hand through it. "Did your squadron destroy their comms as well?"

Plo Koon looks at the rest of the Howls and receives solemn nods. He turns back to Sinker.

"Every comlink and transmitter is destroyed?"

"Yes, sir." Sinker's stiff with embarrassment.

Plo considers this for a moment. "What is Commander Cody's last location?"

"Wolffe is looking into it now."

"Good."

"General Plo!"

Plo Koon looks at Craig, waving a hand from the entrance of the bay. He moves toward him, but Craig gestures for him to stay put.

"We want to test the bucket line!" Craig hollers, absolutely beaming with enthusiasm while groans come from behind him. "Wolffe has Cody's last known location. Permission to head that way?"

Plo Koon's voice doesn't carry as well as the clones' so he looks at Howl. Grinning, Howl earns his name once again.

"Let's gooooo!"

Chapter Text

   “I don’t like this.”

   Stak barely glances at Razor. “So you’ve said. Stop that.”

   Razor doesn’t ask what “that” is, but he does stop tapping his fingers against his kama. For about three seconds, then the sound resumes. Stak cuts his eyes sideways, not caring that Razor can’t see past the helmet.

   Stak glances in either direction of the hallway. They’re alone for now, until Windu finishes whatever business pulled him away so quickly. Stak considers comming him, but there’s no sense in bugging the general because Razor is bored.

   Razor goes to one of the windows and opens it. He looks out for a moment, then leans over the edge to peer down. Stak considers pushing him out. Razor’s got a jetpack; he’ll be fine.

   Razor stares downward for a few minutes, intent on finding the nothing that has him on edge. Then he looks in either direction.

   “Razor,” Stak sighs, “Get back in here.”

   Razor grunts and angles his head upward. He starts to lower his head, then does a double-take. A sudden shout makes Stak jump.

   “ Karkin- ”

   Not finishing, Razor scrambles onto the windowsill and jumps out! Stak flinches, then runs over as Razor activates his jetpack and shoots into the sky.

   “Razor, what in the name of the Maker are you doing?!” Stak yells at his squad mate.

   Then he sees that Razor’s racing toward a person falling from above. Leaving the questions for later, Stak jumps out as well, activating his jetpack. 

   Before he can move, something hits his chestplate. He scrambles for it and manages to snag it. He stares at the familiar lightsaber for a moment, then shoves it into his utility belt and shoots up.

   Above, Razor’s caught their general, though he’s struggling to remain airborne. Stak quickly catches up and grabs Windu’s legs, giving Stak some relief. They manage to slow Windu’s falling momentum, both looking over their general in shock.

   Windu’s body is badly burned, and his robes are singed. He’s unconscious and only moving in slight, sporadic twitches. His right hand is missing , the arm ending at a burned stump.

   “What the-”

   “There,” Stak interrupts Razor, jerking his head toward an open window, “We’ll ask the general once he’s secure.”

   Because Stak doesn’t want to think about what could have taken out General Windu , not with most of the 91st off-world on other missions. His priority is getting Windu out of the way and checked, then he can go looking for a Jedi killer.

   “Stak,” Razor says as they maneuver toward the window, “Weren’t there three other Jedi with General Windu?”

   “Razor. Later.”

   Razor clams up, thankfully. Stak checks the hall as well as he can while hovering with Windu’s limp body dangling between him and Razor, then backs through the window and turns off his jetpack. He lands lightly, stepping quickly back to allow Razor to land as well.

   Both troopers look in opposite directions of the empty hall. Stak spots an open door and gestures to it with his head. The two carry Windu over to the door and into an empty meeting room. They carefully set Windu on a bench, then Stak runs to the door. An alarm fills the air as Stak closes and locks the door.

   “Well?” Stak says, returning to Razor’s side.

   “He’s burned pretty badly. Looks like some sort of electrical shock, though I don’t know what could’ve caused… that,” Razor gestures to Windu as a whole. “But he’s breathing alright. I don’t know about internally, but his hand’s the only major wound I can see, and that was cauterized, possibly by the shock, but if the shock was that strong, I don’t think he’d still be alive…”

   “I’m calling the Commander,” Stak says, lifting his comlink.

   As he does, Cody’s voice comes over both their comms.

   “Execute Order Six.”

   Stak drops his comlink and crushes it under his boot. Beside him, Razor does the same to his comlink and the comlink Windu has on his belt. Then they both turn back to the Jedi.

   After a moment, Stak blinks. “Razor?”

   Focused on wrapping Windu’s arm stump with a strip of cloth torn from his tattered robe, Razor says distractedly, “Yeah?”

   “Why’d you break your comlink?”

   Razor looks at Stak, then at the broken comlinks. “You did it, too.”

   “Never mind,” Stak says irritably. “Now we have no way of communicating.”

   “We could wait here,” Razor suggests, returning to working on Windu.

   The idea is tempting, but Stak shakes his head. “General Windu said he was going to see the Chancellor, right? Whatever happened, must’ve happened up there.”

   “Assassination attempt?” Razor suggests.

   “It’s the only thing that makes sense, though how an assassin could get past the Guard is beyond me,” Stak says. “Wait here with the general.”

   “You’re going alone?” Razor asks, head darting up.

   “Well, we can’t just wait around,” Stak says. “At the very least, I can find another comm and figure out what happened.”

   Razor nods, grudgingly.

   “Good,” Stak says, walking toward the door. “Lock the door behind me and barricade it. Don’t open it until I get back.”

   “How am I supposed to know it’s you knocking?” Razor asks drily. 

   Stak hesitates beside the door. Right. Then Razor’s joking comment about knocking gives Stak an idea. He raps a fist on the door twice, pauses, then adds one hard knock.

   “I’ll do that,” Stak says. He turns to look back at his brother and their Jedi.

   “Be careful,” Razor says.

   Stak nods. “You, too. I’ll be back soon.”

Chapter Text

   Allie hadn’t known that pit droids could climb trees.

   Allie studies the scene as she arrives at her company’s temporary base camp. Her men are gathered around a tree, looking up and scratching heads. Above, clinging to the branches near the top of the tree is WAC-47.

   Behind her is Commander Neyo and Lieutenant Hops. Both are riding Neyo’s speeder since Hops’… thorough efforts at destroying his comlink had caused him to lose control and wreck his speeder.

   “What happened, Sling?” Allie asks, dismounting.

   “Er…” Captain Sling is at a loss for words for once. “Well…”

   “They were trying to kill me!” WAC-47, affectionately nicknamed Little C, squeals.

   “No, we weren’t,” Sling says.

   “Sure, you just pointed your blasters at me as a trust exercise!”

   Allie looks again at her men, noting the torn wires on their comlinks. “What happened to your comlinks?”

   The troopers all look at their gauntlets with surprise. Allie glances at Neyo, who doesn’t respond. He and Hops have already expressed their own confusion about destroying their comms.

   Allie looks back up at a sudden thought. Little C has a built-in transponder so the battalion would have a back-up. And since her troopers had become so intent on destroying all comms…

   “Sling,” Allie says, “Do you know why Commander Cody would have told you to destroy the transponders and comlinks?”

   “He didn’t,” Sling says, sounding confused.

   “Apparently he did. Somehow,” Neyo says, gesturing to his own guantlet. 

   “Little C, turn off your transponder,” Allie advises. 

   “Why? I’m the only one who can communicate now!” Little C says.

   “And I think there was a reason for it. Do it, now!” Allie says urgently.

   “Okay, okay,” Little C grumbles. “But don’t blame me if you miss anything important.”

   “I think we already did,” says one of the troopers, Will. “General?”

   Allie glanced toward the sky, despite knowing she couldn’t see the cruiser, the Steadfast , waiting in orbit. The rest of her battalion likely received the same message and destroyed all comms, but she wants to first check for herself.

   “Get to the ships,” Allie tells her men. “We’re returning to the Steadfast .”

   The men nod and go to their speeders. Allie doesn’t need to Force to feel their uncertainty in their silence and rapid breaking of camp.

   “Come, Little C,” Allie says. “The danger has passed now.”

   “Sure it has.”

   “If we’d wanted to destroy you, we’d have shot you down,” Sling points out.

   “So you have thought about it!”

   “No? That’s just the easiest way to get something up high. You’re the one who said we were trying to destroy you.”

   “You were!”

   “Little C,” Neyo cuts in, “Either climb down or we leave you here.”

   Little C stares at him. “Pit droids can’t climb down trees.”

   “I don’t think they can climb up them, either,” Will says.

   “I’m already up here, aren’t I?!” Little C complains.

   Neyo sighs. “Sling, climb up and grab the corporal.”

   Sling startles. “Why me?”

   “You were in charge while the general and I were scouting, so you’re responsible for cleaning up.”

   Sling starts to protest, then sighs and turns to the tree. He is able to climb the thick, rough branches with relative ease, but has a harder time catching Little C, who is bouncing from branch to branch, completely convinced that he is going to be destroyed.

   Allie prepares to catch Little C. Just in case. 

   “Again,” Sling huffs as, with a lunge, he snags Little C’s foot, “If I’d wanted to wreck you, I’d have shot you!”

   “Insubordination!” Little C squeals in outrage. “I’ll have you demoted!”

   “You don’t have the authority for that,” Sling states drily.

   Sling manages to reach the ground despite Little C writhing like a furious Loth cat, and sets the pit droid down. Little C promptly runs over to Allie’s speeder bike and climbs onto the back. He crosses his spindly arms at Allie’s raised eyebrow. 

   “I don’t trust them to not dump me,” Little C grumbles.

   Neyo sighs, but Allie doesn't make Little C move. It’s barely visible, but his nervous shaking makes a quiet clanking sound.

   Seeing everyone is ready to go, Allie waves for everyone to head back to where their shuttle was waiting. Speeders roar to life.

   As they speed across the swamp, Allie wonders what could have happened. Why would Cody have given her men such a strange order? And was it to just her men, or to other battalions in the GAR?

   “Neyo!” Allie has to shout to be heard over the speeders. “Was Commander Cody’s order given to anyone else?”

   Neyo nods and shouts back, “He used a special frequency! One that would extend to the entire GAR!”

   “Would’ve been nice if he’d given us some warning!” Sling joins in the shouted conversation. “Do you know where the 212th was headed, Commander?”

   Neyo shakes his head. “We’ll figure it out on the ship.”

   “Won’t the ship's communications be destroyed as well?” Allie points out.

   “Then with your permission, we can return to Coruscant and get his location from there!” Neyo calls with clear annoyance at Cody.

   Allie nods, then gasps at a sudden surge in the Force. Caught off-guard, she hunches over, jerking the speeder to the left. Little C squawks and scrambles over her to grab the speeder controls. Neyo calls over in concern, but Allie is already sitting up, though she’s still clutching her stomach with one hand while she retakes the controls with the other. The pain and distress she felt is already dissipating. In its place is a plea… a call for help from…

   “Not Coruscant!” Allie calls to her men. “Neyo, when we return to the Steadfast, have a route plotted for Kaller!”

   “Kaller?” Neyo repeats.

   Allie nods once, but doesn’t speak. She’s suddenly remembered who’s on Kaller: Jedi Master Depa Billaba and her Padawan, Caleb Dume. 

   And one of them has just sent a call for help.

Chapter Text

   The Senate building is unnervingly empty. Usually the halls are bustling with senators, messengers, and droids, but now there’s no other being in sight. It isn’t entirely quiet, as a warning alarm continues to blare every few seconds, but the lack of voices feels wrong.

   Stak’s nerves increase with every floor. What kind of attack could send the entire Senate building into lockdown and empty it so quickly? And now he’s going to investigate alone-

   The alarm stops mid-squeal. Stak freezes, raising his blasters.

   The sound of a door opening makes Stak spin. He relaxes when he sees Ponds jog into the hall.

   “Commander, what’s…” Stak trails off when he sees Ponds’ busted comlink. “...you, too?”

   “Yeah, and I don’t know why, either,” Ponds grunts. “Something’s happening, though. There was some sort of fight near the top of the building. Senators and staff are evacuating to the lower floors. I saw the Guard starting to surround the building, but without comms, I can’t check in.”

   “Is that where you were going?” Stak asks.

   Ponds shakes his head. “Last I knew, General Windu was heading toward the Chancellor’s office, so that’s where I’m going.”

   “Me, too,” Stak says, falling into a run with Ponds. “But, sir, Razor and I found General Windu.”

   “Does he know what’s going on?” Ponds asks, sounding confused by Stak’s statement.

   “No. I think he was hurt in the attack you saw,” Stak says.

   There’s a pause as Ponds, like Stak, processes Windu being hurt. His absence makes it clear that his injury is bad.

   “I think he’ll be fine, but his hand was cut off and he was burned,” Stak adds.

   “Lightning burn?” Ponds asks.

   “Maybe?” Stak says, startles.

   “What I saw upstairs looked a lot like lightning,” Ponds explains as they race up another stairwell to the end. 

   “Is that a Jedi thing?” Stak asks.

   “Not Jedi… no, only Sith can do Force lightning,” Ponds says.

   Remembering how he’d earlier wondered who or what could hurt Windu, Stak shudders. And now just he and Ponds are running toward what could very well be a Sith.

   They reach the highest floor of the Senate building unchallenged. Here, they move slower. This floor would have been fully evacuated, so they should be, theoretically, empty of everyone but the chancellor and his guards.

   Except, the floor seems completely empty. No guards, but no signs of a fight, either.

   Stak and Ponds slow as they near the chancellor’s office. Stak hits the button to open the door, and both troopers brace themselves on either side of the door for whatever might come out.

   Which is nobody. Nobody and nothing, until a challenging voice rings out.

   “Who’s there?”

   “Monnk!” Ponds calls, shoulders slumping. “It’s Ponds and Stak.”

   “Oh, thank the Maker, come in, hurry!”

   Stak and Ponds run inside the antechamber, only to freeze at the sight before them.

   Monnk is standing protectively beside a prone Kit Fisto. His blaster is lowered, but his posture is tense and his face clearly distressed. Closer to the door lies two more Jedi, Agen Kolar and Saesee Tiin. All three Jedi are bandaged with bacta patches and unconscious, but breathing.

   “What-” Ponds starts.

   “I don’t know,” Monnk interrupts. “General Fisto was helping General Windu with something urgent that had just come up. He told me to stay on one of the lower levels, but… well, something didn’t feel right. So I followed and found them all like this.”

   “Razor and I found General Windu,” Stak says as he kneels to check Tiin. “Caught him, actually. He’s burned and his right hand was cut off, but I think he’ll be fine. Any sign of the Chancellor?”

   “None, but I haven’t really looked,” Monnk says, kneeling beside Kit. 

   Ponds quickly checks Kolar, then straightens. “We can set up triage here. Whoever attacked the Jedi Masters will have already fled.”

   “Good idea,” Stak says, starting to stand. “I’ll go back to Razor, and we can bring General Windu here.”

   “No!” Ponds said quickly. More calmly, he says, “Help Monnk here. I’ll go retrieve General Windu.”

   Stak nods, understanding. If he’s honest, he’s surprised Ponds hadn’t left as soon as he heard what had happened to Windu. Then again, that would have meant leaving Stak to investigate alone, while Windu and Razor were still relatively safe and hidden.

   Now, though, Stak is with Monnk, and Ponds quickly leaves once Stak tells him the floor and room to find their brother and Jedi. Stak barely remembers in time to warn Ponds about the knock when he arrives.

   The Jedi are stable, so Stak rises to check the floor. Holding his blasters, Stak trots through the lobbies, meeting rooms, antechambers, offices, and even the personal quarters. All the doors are open, and every room is empty.

   Having cleared the floor, Stak returns to Monnk and the Jedi. Monnk’s humming what sounds like a lullaby as he checks Kit’s wounds. Stak checks the other two Jedi Masters.

   Technically, the clone troopers’ priority probably should have been the whereabouts of Chancellor Palpatine. After making sure the Jedi were stable, they should’ve started investigating where he could have gone or been taken.

   But the clone troopers define family differently than most beings. All clones are brothers. And for most, their Jedi commanders are family, too. 

   Monnk and Kit are much like brothers. Nobody has dared say it out loud, but for the 91st, Windu was the closest thing they’d ever had to a father. 

   And Jedi have their own strange manner of family. Completely unrelated, yet the masters care for the padawans and younglings as their own. Younglings, padawans, and masters rarely used the words, but they were uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers.

   Jedi Masters Tiin and Kolar have no battalions serving under them, no troopers to come to their aid. No troopers but Stak and Ponds and Monnk.

   Ponds returns with Razor, carrying Windu between them. None of the Jedi are conscious yet, and Stak’s starting to worry. 

   With no word from outside, they have no way of knowing if they’re really safe in the office. But their numbers are too few to leave the injured Jedi, if any of them would dare to travel through the entire building alone. 

   Stak looks at the others. Monnk hasn’t left Kit’s side since their arrival; probably hasn’t since finding his Jedi. Ponds is sticking close to Windu, intently waiting for some sign of waking. Razor’s keeping an eye on Tiin, and Stak’s sitting close to Kolar. 

   Almost without thought, everyone has settled on keeping watch over a Jedi. Usually, it’s the Jedi watching over the troopers. But today, it’s the troopers’ turn to return the favor.

   Stak smiles slightly at the thought, but his worry is increasing. By now, Commander Fox should’ve been in the chancellor’s office. Even if every clone on Coruscant has broken their comlinks, the Guard would’ve first gone to ensure the Senate building was secure.

   The thought has barely passed through Stak’s mind when there’s a low clatter. He and Ponds rise and swivel in unison, pointing their blasters toward a vent in the wall while Monnk and Razor hunch over their Jedi.

   There’s a pause, then a call of, “Hey, don’t shoot!”

   “General Vos?” Ponds says, his blaster lowering.

   The vent shoots out of the wall, propelled by a pair of feet. Stak watches with some confusion as Quinlan shuffles out, feet-first, and stands. He looks at the confused troopers, then does a double-take at the unconscious Jedi. There’s a fair amount of staring and silent gesturing, during which Monnk returns to tending Kit.

   “What-” Quinlan finally says. He looks at Ponds. “Thire said you caught Mace.”

   “...we did,” Stak says.

   Quinlan offers an emphatic point to Windu’s stump.

   “We found him like that,” Razor offers.

   “I was really hoping for answers,” Quinlan mutters.

   “Sir,” Ponds says, “What’s the situation outside?”

   “Confusion,” Quinlan says eloquently. “The Guard was assembling outside when I was down there. I came up to get some answers.”

   “We were hoping the Guard had some,” Ponds says.

   “Nope,” Quinlan says with a shake of his head. “All communication devices within reach of the Guard and my -well, every clone on Coruscant- were destroyed and nobody knows why. At least the comm-destroying mood only lasted five minutes.”

   “Is it safe to move the Jedi?” Monnk asks.

   Quinlan shrugs. “Looks like whoever attacked… wait, where’s the chancellor?”

   There’s a long, awkward pause as the troopers don’t make eye contact with the Jedi.

   “...missing, got it.” Quinlan mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like, “I hope Fox doesn’t wake up soon.”

   “What’s wrong with Commander Fox?” Monnk asks.

   “Nothing, except he hasn’t slept for a week,” Quinlan says. He flaps a hand. “It’s fine, Thire has the situation as much under control as he can. But with whoever did the light show up here gone, we’ll have to-”

   “Sir!”

   Everyone spins toward the door as Faie and one of the Guard enter the room.

   “How’d you get up here so fast?” Quinlan asks.

   “We ran,” Faie says shortly. “General, the situation has escalated.”

   Another trooper stumbles into the room behind them, supported by another Guard. Stak’s eyes widen when he recognizes Cooker, one of Kit’s snipers.

   “Cooker?” Monnk says, rising.

   “Sir,” Cooker says shakily. He’s looking at Quinlan, ignoring his commander. “You’re needed at the Temple.”

   “The Temple?” Quinlan repeats.

   Cooker stammers out, “It’s General Skywalker a-and the 501st.”

   “What happened?” Quinlan asks, more serious than Stak has ever seen him.

   “They-” Cooker pauses, swallows hard, then pushes on, “They’re attacking the Temple.”

   Everyone can only stare at Cooker.

   “I don’t- Everything was fine, business as normal, I was- I was waiting for General Fisto,” Cooker stammers. “Th-then, General Skywalker came into the T-Temple and I don’t… I don’t know what happened, but he- he went after the younglings , General!”

   Quinlan’s suddenly in front of Cooker, holding the unsteady trooper’s shoulders. “Breathe, Cooker, what happened next?”

   “We- the Jedi and troopers, we- everyone started fighting and I don’t- General Skywalker, he said- then the Jedi were- they were- and the troopers-”

   “Cooker, speak!”

   “The Jedi were fighting the Jedi and my brothers were fighting each other!” Cooker wails, slumping in Quinlan’s hold. 

   Quinlan pales. “They…”

   “Th-Thorn told me- told me to find- find the other J-Jedi,” Cooker manages, clearly trying to finish his message even as he droops toward the floor.

   Stak jumps forward, taking Cooker from Quinlan’s loosening grip. He carefully lowers the trooper to the floor while Monnk hurries over to check his man. Stak takes off Cooker’s helmet, glad to find no signs of wounds, but shock is rapidly taking hold of him. 

   Quinlan snaps upright, his face hardening. 

   “Zillo,” Quinlan says to the Guard holding an oversized radio, “Tell Thorn I’m on my way. Faie, stay here and keep guard with the other Jedi.”

   “General,” Faie says carefully, “I’d rather come with you, if it’s all the same to you.”

   Quinlan nods tightly. “As long as you can keep up.”

   Quinlan is out of the room like a shot, and Faie hurries to follow. The two Guard remain, checking the Jedi briefly, then, once it becomes clear that nobody knows where the chancellor is, goes to check the rest of the floor for some idea of where he could be.

   Stak stays beside Cooker, watching the trooper shake on the floor, his eyes fixed on Kit like he’s afraid his Jedi will vanish if he so much as blinks. No amount of murmurs from Monnk will get him to calm down, not that any of the other troopers are any better.

   The Jedi… and the clones… were fighting each other?

Chapter Text

   “I hope Rex and Ahsoka are alright.”

   Jesse looks down the Twilight’ s boarding ramp, then at the shattered commlink at his feet. The transponder in the cockpit is in the same condition. The 501st has no way of knowing how the 332nd is faring until it can be repaired.

   A sigh coming from beside him draws Jesse’s amused gaze. “Bored, Hardcase?”

   Hardcase is bouncing on his toes, his kama flapping against his legs. “C’mon, Cap, you aren’t?”

   “Stop calling me Captain,” Jesse says sheepishly.

   “Why not, Cap?” Hardcase teases, obviously searching for entertainment.

   “I’m sure it’s temporary,” Jesse says. He can’t help but smile as he adds, “I know Rex hopes it’s temporary.”
  “What makes you say that?”

   “Rex? A commander? Have you seen what Cody has to put up with?”

   “You really think it’s any worse than me?” Hardcase asks, bouncing harder.

   “You’re going to rattle the shuttle,” Jesse calmly informs him.

   Oz, standing a few paces away with Ringo, says, “He already is.”

   “Really?” Hardcase asks.

   There’s movement at the ramp before anyone can respond. Jesse turns, his smile fading when he sees Anakin rushing up the ramp with a frantic look on his face.

   “General?” Jesse says, tensing, “What’s wrong?”

   “You aren’t answering your comms,” Anakin says.

   “No, we…” Jesse looks at the broken comlinks, then back to his Jedi. “We had orders to destroy them.”

   Anakin shoots him an intense look. Jesse can’t figure out what it means, but he’s instantly worried. 

   “Do you need a medic?” Jesse asks.

   Not for the first time, Jesse wishes Kix was still with the 501st. He’d either know what was wrong just by looking at Anakin or he’d already been dragging him to the medbay. But a month ago, Kix had mysteriously vanished on Coruscant. 

   With Kix missing -the 501st troopers knew Kix wouldn’t desert them and they refused to accept he was dead - and Coric assigned to the 332nd, there aren’t any other medics familiar enough with Anakin to get him to medbay when he inevitably says-

  “I’m fine.”

   That.

   “At least sit down,” Jesse says, because Anakin’s shaking.

   Anakin’s eyes lock with Jesse’s. “Do you trust me?”

   Staring into Anakin’s darting eyes, Jesse says without hesitation, “With my life, sir.”

   “And-” Anakin’s voice shakes, “Can I trust you?”

   “Sir, I’ll follow you anywhere,” Jesse says. 

   He almost salutes, but instead boldly reaches out and takes Anakin’s arm in a sign of companionship. Anakin visibly relaxes.

   “We’re going to the Temple,” Anakin says.

   Jesse nods and gestures Hardcase toward the cockpit. “Of course, sir.”

   Maybe at the Temple, someone can help Anakin with whatever has upset him.

   “Wait,” Anakin says to Hardcase, “All of you.”

   Everyone turns to Anakin, either saluting or sharing Jesse’s concern. 

   “Once we reach the Temple,” Anakin says slowly, clearly, “We’ll be executing Order Sixty-Six.”

   Jesse’s thoughts seem to blur oddly for a moment, then clear. He nods to Hardcase to continue toward the cockpit, then turns to Anakin. Again, his thoughts blur.

   “I’ve left the Jedi Order,” Anakin says, giving Jesse some clarity.

   Jesse nods. “Very good, sir.”

    “It’s a shame,” Jesse thinks, unable to quell his regret, “That the Jedi had to betray the Republic. But at least Anakin and Ahsoka got out of the Order before it was too late.”