Hello, everyone!

So lately, I've been pretty into Star Wars and I woke up yesterday morning with this thought in my head:

After having watched the Clone Wars and everything that came with it, good and bad, I firmly believe that the clone would absolutely NOT be okay with Order 66. In the show, its revealed that they have chips in their brains that will make them carry out 66 whether they want to or not - they aren't given a choice in the matter. And from what I've seen, the chip works a bit like a switch. It turns off who they are as a person and switches them over to this mindless soldier who will follow orders without question. (Good soldiers follow orders.)

What if, when that happens, the clones are still aware of whats happening? What if it's like those mind control tropes where they're trapped in their own heads with no way out? What if instead of just following orders, they fought back against the programming?

They wouldn't be 100% successful, of course, because this is like complete brain washing and removal of autonomy, and not all of them would fight it. But those that worked closely with the jedi? Those that have fought with them and bled with them? Have been protected by them? Those that have been treated like people by the jedi rather than the meat clankers a large portion of the Republic sees them as? They will fight against 66 with everything that they are. They will do everything that they can to make sure that their Generals live. They will find ALL of the loopholes around the order.

And it demanded to be written. So I wrote it. This is my attempt at making Order 66 slightly less awful. That being said, this is a fic centered around Order 66 so there will be feels EVERYWHERE. Have tissues ready.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars but I do own this story.

Trust

Bly

Bly is following his General through a jungle when he hears it. He's at his General's right shoulder, just as he always is, ready to defend, to protect, to issue orders, to do whatever he needs to do. He's at his General's back because she trusts him to be there and to guard it and he has no intentions of ever failing her in that.

But then he hears it.

Execute Order 66.

Bly feels cold wash over him and his blaster suddenly feels heavy in his hands.

Good soldiers follow orders.

Bly is a good soldier, has always been a good soldier – it's why he's General Secura's Commander. He follows the orders that he is given. But not without question, never without question. Because Jedi aren't made for war and General Secura told him as much when they first met at the start of this mess. She needed him to help. And if he thought something was wrong, she told him not to hesitate asking. Because following orders blindly is a good way to get killed.

Good soldiers follow orders.

He feels his arms come up, blaster in hand, and he's screaming but no one seems to hear him. This is wrong, there is nothing right about this. General Secura is his and he was made for her so why is this happening? This is not the kind of order he should follow. He won't, he can't –

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

He hears his men beside him raise their blasters the same time he does. He sees his General straighten and glance at them in surprise before spinning quickly to look through the trees, lightsaber in hand, ready to use. He's shouting at her in his head – telling her that she's facing the wrong way. The threat isn't in front of them, it's behind her. But he knows his General, knows what she's thinking. Knows that she trusts them and that they have obviously seen a threat that she has missed. Except –

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

Except they are the threat.

He grits his teeth, finger curling around the trigger even as his mind is at war with itself. It's not working, he knows it's not working. So Bly stops pulling. Instead he pushes just as he pulls the trigger. His shot catches the General in her right shoulder. Non-fatal.

Before she can react, Crackshot fires. Left hip. Non-fatal.

And even though he's still screaming, Bly and his brothers open fire on their General's unprotected back. Unprotected. Because they are supposed to be protecting it. Because she trusted them with it. And now they are breaking that trust.

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

Upper back. Non-fatal.

Left thigh. Non-fatal.

General Secura goes down, but they keep firing and Bly feels every blow.

Left shoulder. Non-fatal.

Left arm. Non-fatal.

Right hip. Non-fatal.

Right torso. Non-fatal.

General Secura is still now, her body jerking each time a shot connects.

GOOD SOLDIERS FOLLOW ORDERS.

I DID! Bly shouts back, jerking his blaster up and away.

"Hold!" he yells, finally, finally, able to speak.

His men stop immediately. He's kneeling by his General before he even realizes what he's doing. She's still conscious and Bly aches when he sees the look in her normally bright brown eyes. She's looking up at him, eyes full of recognition – full of pain and surprise and betrayal – and Bly wants to weep. To break down right there and beg for forgiveness.

But he can't because he can hear that thing in his head stirring at the sight of his General still alive. He crushes it viciously and shoves it into the darkest corner of his mind.

Bly?

He chokes.

His General's voice is in his head.

His General's voice is in his head and it is so full of hurt and confusion.

"Commander?" he hears Tyto call from behind, his voice shaken and broken, "Is she -?"

"General Secura is dead," Bly says firmly, even as he gestures Patch over. His General is looking up at him still, her eyes remaining on his and he can't look away. "I'm sorry, General," he says softly, only for her, "Order 66, we had to. I'm so sorry. Please sleep. I know you can't trust us anymore, but please."

He chokes, his voice catching in his throat. He feels Patch place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze, before rummaging through his medkit. General Secura keeps looking at him – he can feel the weight of her gaze pressing down on his shoulders.

And then she nods – just a slight tip of her head – and her eyes slide shut. Bly doesn't know if it's because she still trusts them or if it's because she knows she has no other choice. He doesn't know which option hurts more.

"Tyto. Barr," he calls, "Go prep the General's star fighter."

He's still not looking at them – still can't look anywhere but his General's face, slack with unconsciousness but far from peaceful. But he hears the "Sir" and footsteps leaving. He feels more than sees his men gather around them in a loose circle. Patch is quick, applying becta gel and bandages, lips pressed together in a grim line.

"What have we done?" Crackshot asks in a choked, horrified whisper that still manages to somehow echo in the air around them.

Good soldiers follow orders.

Bly's hand curl into fists so tight his gloves creak from the strain. "We followed orders," he answers tonelessly.

No one says anything.

They can't.

They have no idea what just happened.

All they know is that they just failed their General in the worst possible way. And there is no way they will ever be able to make up for it.

Patch sits back, blowing out a long breath. "I've done what I can," he says, "But it's bad. And she can't stay here with us."

Bly nods. He knows as well as his brothers that the voice in their heads isn't gone. He can feel it pushing in the back of his mind, shoving against the corner he's forced it into. His head is pounding with the worst headache he's ever had in his life and it's getting worse by the second.

"No, she can't," he agrees, shoving his blaster at the medic before carefully – oh so carefully – scooping up his General.

Her body is completely limp, her head lolling awkwardly against his shoulder. But she's warm. Bly can feel the tell-tale rise and fall of her chest even through his armor.

She's alive.

And Bly is going to make sure she stays that way.

Bly tugs at the seat restraints one last time to make sure they're secure before closing the cockpit. General Secura is still unconscious and has remained that way since they brought her back.

"Alright Arnine," he says, turning to the astromech he's trusting with his General. He's flown with Arnine a few times even though he is primarily General Secura's droid. He's a stubborn little thing and he's loyal to a fault. "I need you to stay with General Secura. When she wakes up, make sure to give her the message. Can you do that?"

Arnine beeps an affirmative.

Bly places a hand on the droid's dome. "Thanks. We're counting on you. Take care of our General. We probably won't be seeing you again."

Arnine trills mournfully, but promises all the same.

Bly climbs down off the star fighter and backs away. "Get her out of here, Arnine!" he calls.

The astromech starts up the fighter and Bly forces himself to watch the ship leave the hanger. He keeps watching until the ship enters hyperspace. The ache in his head immediately lessens.

His General is out of his reach.

First chapter done! Think I'm gonna post something from Aayla's pov next.

Thoughts? Feelings? Did I make anyone cry? Is this terrible for a first Star Wars fic?

Let me know!

Until next time,

~Elri