90. Traumatized. 91. Closure 92. Skepticism

Warnings: 90 is a follow up to "Hope" and is sad. It also includes alcohol references. 91 is a follow-up to Bitterness, way back in chapter 7, and is very sad, includes mild language and character death. 92 includes mild language.

Traumatized

Wolffe smiled as he walked the halls of the Triumphant, relishing the familiar sights and sounds. Beneath his feet the floor purred gently, resonating with the hum of the hyperdrive. The gray and white duraplast walls gleamed, freshly scrubbed and sanitized. On either side of him troopers in blue-gray marked armor snapped to attention and saluted. He acknowledged them each with a nod, but he couldn't manage a professionally stern expression. He was home.

The fighter-bay was nearly disserted, and Wolffe took a moment to admire the sleek lines of the fighters. He was no pilot, but even he could see the deadly beauty inherent in their design. Working on one of the fighters were Warthog and Tracer, laughing and mocking each other good-naturedly. When they caught sight of Wolffe, they smiled and saluted.

"General wants to see you, sir," Tracer said, clutching the laser wound on his chest. Warthog nodded an affirmative.

"Is he in his office, Sergeant?"

"Yes sir," Sergeant Sinker replied. Wolffe nodded in dismissal and left Sinker and Boost conversing in the mess.

He was at the general's door. He lifted his fist, but before he could knock, the general's resonant voice echoed from inside.

"Enter."

The door swished open. Wolffe entered, stood proudly at attention and saluted. "You wanted to see me, General?"

General Plo Koon regarded him stoically, long enough that Wolffe wanted to fidget. Finally, the general broke his silence.

"Why?"

"S-sir?"

"Why did you betray me?"

Wolffe blanched. "I... I didn't!"

"Why did you let them kill me?"

"You ordered me to!"

"You could have stopped them. I'm dead because of you." General Koon drew his saber, ignited it, and began advancing on Wolffe.

"Please, sir!" Wolffe said, stumbling backwards in terror. "I was just following your orders!"

"...mmander?" a soft voice called from somewhere, but Wolffe ignored it. The Triumphant had disappeared, and Wolffe now found himself in a dark, featureless room. Out of the shadows came more Jedi, stern faces shadowed ominously in the glow of their lightsabers.

"Commander!" The voice came louder and more insistent.

"No!" Wolffe fumbled for his blaster. He recognized faces. General Kenobi. Master Yoda. General Windu. General Secura. Skywalker and little Ahsoka. He lifted his blaster defensively, took aim...

"Soldier! Stand down!"

Wolffe gasped and his eyes snapped open. "Wh-what?" He stared down the barrel of his deece into the concerned eyes of Captain Rex and Commander Gregor. The gun fell from nerveless fingers.

"Easy there, Commander." Rex soothed as he slid an arm around Wolffe's shoulders and eased him to the floor. "Gregor, get some water." Rex rubbed gentle circles on Wolffe's back. The commander leaned forward with his head in his hands and shook.

"Another dream?" Rex asked softly. Wolffe nodded, and the Captain squeezed his shoulder. "We all have 'em, you know. There's no reason to be ashamed." Wolffe pursed his lips and glowered at the other man, who shrugged and pulled away. "Suit yourself. Thanks, Gregor," he said, accepting a precariously balanced glass as his friend came through the door. Rex passed the glass to Wolffe, and took another for himself, his nostrils flaring slightly.

Wolffe took a large swig form the glass, then spat it back out and sprang to his feet with a yelp. "This isn't water!"

Gregor roared with laughter and Rex hid a smile behind the lip of his glass. "I thought you could use something to perk you up!" Gregor replied once he could breathe again. His voice was merry, but Wolffe could see the worry in his eyes, the unvoiced question: "Are you ok, brother?"

Wolffe pulled a face as he took another sip. "What is this swill? It could melt through the hull of a Star-Destroyer."

"It's my own recipe!" Gregor replied proudly. "It's made from..."

"Oh second thought, I don't want to know." Wolffe mumbled and downed the rest of his drink. It tasted like hydraulic fluid, but there was no denying the warm burn it left in his belly. He eyed the other two. "Now, I don't know about you ladies, but I'm going to get some shut-eye. Some of us actually try to sleep at night." The other two clones chucked at Wolffe's bluster, glad that his good humor had returned. Wolffe made for his bed then paused and looked over his shoulder.

"And gentlemen..." he glanced at the floor, and then continued softly. "Thanks."

Closure

Under normal circumstances Obi-Wan gave the Empire a wide berth. There was little point in being in hiding if one waltzed right up to the entity that was hunting you. But there had been a skirmish between Imperial troops and a small rebel cell in the Dune Sea, dangerously close to both Ben's hermitage and Lars' moisture farm. He had to be certain that his cover was still intact and he didn't need to take Luke and disappear again.

The acrid scents of the battlefield brought back unpleasant memories. The corpses strewn across the sand hadn't started rotting yet, but they still reeked of blood, burnt flesh and melted duraplast. Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan knelt by the nearest stormtrooper and removed his helmet.

Instead of slicing the helmet as he had intended, Obi-Wan dropped it in shock. The face beneath the helmet was old and lined, but unmistakable: it was a clone. Obi-Wan felt all of the blood drain from his face. If there were any living clones here, he could be recognized, and he wouldn't have a chance to escape with the boy before the Empire arrived.

He was just about to bolt back to the Lars' farm to grab Luke and run when a gurgling cough stopped him in his tracks. Someone was alive. And judging by the pitch of the cough, it would have been smart to walk away. He didn't owe the clones anything. Not anymore. But the Force was nudging him to investigate.

Obi-Wan sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered to himself, but made his way over to the wounded trooper. The man coughed and groaned, but made no sign that he recognized the Jedi's presence. The more distance Obi-Wan closed, the more a faintly familiar Force-presence tickled the edges of his mind. By the time he reached the clone's side, Obi-Wan already knew that he would find –

"Cody."

The man went rigid, both in body and in The Force, loathing and panic flowing out of him in torrents. "Kenobi." With a hiss of pain, he made a feeble lunge for the blaster that lay beside him in the sand, but Obi-Wan kicked it out of his reach and pinned the arm with his boot. Cody bared his teeth, glaring up at Obi-Wan with unfocused eyes. He attempted to wriggle out of the Jedi's hold, but he was too weak. Kenobi could feel in The Force that the man's wounds were fatal.

"Well?" Cody spat, "Go ahead. Kill me. Have your revenge. That's what you're here for, isn't it?" The man was gasping now, face taut with pain.

Obi-Wan studied his former friend. Part of him did want revenge: revenge for a betrayal of trust, to him, to the Jedi order, and to the entire galaxy. He fingered the lightsaber hidden in his robes. One blow is all it would take. It wouldn't change the past, but at least one of the men responsible for the atrocities that had taken place would face justice.

Obi-Wan shook his head and knelt beside Cody. He pulled the man's head into his lap, took the water bottle from his belt and began bathing Cody's wounds. "Revenge is not the Jedi way."

Cody froze at Obi-Wan's words and actions, and stared at the hands that were busy soothing his hurts. And then Cody did something that Obi-Wan had never seen before. He started to cry.

"Damn it!" the clone shouted angrily, blinking to try to stop the tears. But the flow kept on, slow but constant. The loathing in his Force Signature began to crumble and turn inward. Underneath it shone a glimmer of remorse.

Obi-Wan tsked. "Hardly fitting language for an officer, Commander," he teased.

Cody stiffened. "When all of your brothers have been gunned down, and your men left you for dead, then you can lecture me about..." The retort died on his lips.

Obi-Wan swallowed his anger at the reminder of betrayal. "What happened?" he asked, using The Force to ease some of Cody's pain so that he could talk.

Cody stared into space. "We got orders to wipe out a rebel cell that had been spotted hiding among the dunes. Should have been an easy victory. I don't know if they planted the information or if somebody tipped them off," Cody winced as a wave of pain swept through his body. Obi-Wan redoubled his efforts to keep the pain at bay. "...B-but. But they were waiting. Twice as many as we'd thought. I sent the mongrels," he sneered, "ahead to draw fire while I went with my brothers to flank the enemy, but the chakare disobeyed and fell back while we were slaughtered. When the battle was over they didn't even try to recover bodies or survivors, just jumped on a gunship and ran with their tails between their legs." He took a shuddering breath and coughed again, spraying Obi-Wan with blood. Obi-Wan wiped Cody's mouth. There wasn't much time left for him, and judging by the expression on Cody's face, he knew it.

"General," he said, "Do you hate me?"

Obi-Wan froze for a moment, torn. Cody caught the indecision, closed his eyes, nodded and leaned away.

"No," Obi-Wan said. "No, I don't hate you."

Cody, with some effort, looked Obi-Wan directly in the eye. "You should hate me. I almost killed you."

"The chips..."

"I would have done it anyway. Good soldiers follow orders." He made a face as if he'd tasted something sour. "Good soldiers follow orders..."

Obi-Wan forced a smile. "And I considered killing you to protect my cover, so I suppose I can't judge." Cody glared, apparently not appreciating the humor. Obi-Wan sobered. "Cody, I need to know. Does The Empire know I'm here?"

Cody looked away. "No," he said after a pause. "Not as far as I know. If they did, I doubt they'd send me. The only clones trusted to hunt Jedi are the 501st, and if they knew you were alive, I'd be relieved of duty and interrogated as a suspected traitor."

Cody's breathing became erratic and sweat started pouring down his face. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists and his teeth, crying softly in pain despite his efforts to stay strong. "Sir," he rasped, "I don't hate you either."

"Hush," Kenobi said, placing a hand on Cody's forehead and soothing him toward a Force-induced sleep. "Rest my friend. Be at peace."

Obi-Wan stayed with Cody as he slept, until he gave one last shuddering breath and became one with The Force.

Skepticism

Angel snorted. "You're crazy, ner vod."

"Think about it!" Leach insisted. "Pale skin. Light hair. Completely different face. How could they be Jango Clones?"

"You've seen brothers with different features before."

"Not that different! There's always something Jango about a brother, no matter how much the long-necks tinkered with their DNA, but with them... nothing!" Exasperated, Leach grabbed Angel's shoulders and turned him bodily towards where the two spec-ops troopers were discussing something with the general and the commander. "Look!"

Angel looked. Both troopers were standing respectfully at parade rest, physically identical, but their demeanors couldn't have been more different. X1, the higher ranking clone, stood proud and tall in his kama, positively oozing self-confidence and a touch of condescending arrogance. Plain armored X2 stood half a step behind his brother, open and receptive, with a slight smile touching his lips. Leach as right. Aside from being human males, they didn't resemble Jango Fett in the slightest.

Angel shook his head. "But who else could they be?"

It was Leach's turn to snort. "Obviously they're an experiment of some kind. You know the Kaminoans. They were probably trying out a different template, with different attributes." Leach looked thoughtful. "Come to think of it..." his face lit up.

Angel sighed. "What now?"

Leach grinned. "In the skirmish. Did you watch them at all?"

"Some of us were focused on doing our jobs."

"Oh, don't give me that! You were watching them as much as I was. Did you notice how fast they were? How quickly they reacted?"

"Yes. They're spec-ops. More intense training."

"There's training, and then there's super-human reaction time." Angel rolled his eyes at that, but leach kept going. "And did you see X2 using the general's lightsaber? Those things are hard to use. One wrong move and you cut your own arm off, but he handled it as easily as we do our deeces."

"You've got to be kidding me. You actually think..."

"Yep. I think X1 and X2 were cloned from a Jedi."

Angel laughed. Hard. Hard enough and loud enough that the general's group stopped talking and glanced at him quizzically, but he couldn't help it.

"You're not just crazy, vod," he chuckled once he had some semblance of control. "You're damned delusional."

"It could happen," Leach replied, wounded. "Why couldn't it happen?"

Angel put an arm around Leach's shoulder, earning a glare at the condescending gesture."Leach, there were no Jedi on Kamino after the orders was placed until General Kenobi came to collect. If there were, don't you think they'd want to inspect their troops and we'd at least have heard about it?"

Leach frowned. "It could have happened."

Angel patted Leach's shoulder, then ducked as his brother took an only half-joking swing at him. "Whatever you say, brother. Whatever you say."

Author's notes: I'm such a good poster... Anyway my notes are kind of a mess at the moment, so we'll see how soon I can post more. I would like to eventually actually reach 100 stories here, and I'm planning to keep going, but again, we'll see. For those who may not know, X-1 and X-2 are from the Nintendo DS/PSP game "Star Wars Battlefront: Elite Squadron." When I discovered the existence of non-OC Force-sensitive clones, I had to play around with them a little. Leach is right; they were cloned from a Jedi. The game's Ok. Not fantastic. But Rahm Kota shows up in it, so there's that. The Force has a sense of humor, sticking that guy with so many clones... Thanks again for stopping by!