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A rough laugh came from the guard on the opposite side of his cell door. "On your feet. You're a hero now, clone. Going to take you to the emperor. Parade you around. Show the galaxy what a real Jedi-killer looks like."

Dogma shuddered. Laughing never meant anything good. He didn't know much about the Empire, having been locked up in this cell since before the war ended, but what little he did know told him that he didn't want to be anywhere near the emperor, much less come to his direct attention.

"And maybe if you're good, we'll get you back to play with a little more."

Yes. That was also something to be afraid of.

So once he was led out of his cell, Dogma looked for an opening, a chance to flee. Unfortunately, Coruscant dazzled his senses, leaving him stunned. Instead of bolting, he froze, and one of the troopers grabbed his arm to jerk him forcibly forward and get him moving. Dogma reeled in the trooper's hold, unused to all the input after the dull gray monotony of prison. All this colorful, constantly in motion cacophony of sights and smells and sounds was difficult to take in so quickly.

Seeing as how they'd brought a full squad to march him to wherever they were taking him *and* the disorientation, he didn't get an opportunity to escape before reaching the Jedi temple. When he caught sight of the familiar building, Dogma hoped, for a moment, that salvation was in sight, but the presence of dark armored soldiers surrounding it crushed that.

Whatever the building was now, it no longer housed the Jedi.

But once inside, and after traversing innumerable identical halls, they dumped him on a bench, with the instruction to one -- and only one -- of his escort to watch him until the emperor had time to see him. And then the rest peeled off, leaving them alone.

One armored guard. Just one.

This was likely the best he was going to get. He had no weapons, no credits and was dressed in his prison uniform. The former temple was crawling with troopers. He had zero hope of achieving lasting freedom and that was even if he managed to beat an active duty soldier at close quarters combat.

Dogma would take the risk anyway. He readied himself to spring--

-- and heard footsteps approaching.

****

Crosshair trailed after Rampart like a pet dog at heel. Collared like one too, a leatheris shock collar around his neck with the admiral's crest attached. When Rampart had been summoned to Coruscant, he'd brought Crosshair along with him.

The admiral didn't like to go too long without his favorite bedwarmer and punching bag after all.

Crosshair served as Rampart's assassin and enforcer as well, but those roles he didn't object to as much. Those at least he had trained for. Could do without wanting to claw his eyes out.

Partway through the Imperial Palace, Rampart stopped beside a bench with a reg in a prison uniform sitting on it. "Wait here, pet. The emperor doesn't like uninvited guests." He stroked Crosshair's cheek in a parody of a loving caress. "You'll get your chance to show off what you can do at the party tonight, don't worry. Everyone will get to see what a good boy you are."

Then he laughed and walked off, leaving Crosshair alone to his revulsed trembling.

Desperate to focus on anything but the future, Crosshair sat down next to the reg, studying him out of the corner of his eye. "What are you in for?"

***

Dogma stiffened as the new soldier sat rather than walking past. Another armored figure. He couldn't take out two troopers, not in as poor shape as he was. One would have been difficult enough. And yet. Something about the tone of the new man gave him hope.

He licked cracked lips. In an undertone, too quiet to go further than the man next to him, he said, "Getting out of here."

***

Crosshair's eyebrows rose. Not what he asked, but… Brave reg. Stupid, but brave. Keeping his voice low, he replied, "Nowhere to go. Place is crawling with natborns. Even if you did get out of this room, you wouldn't make it out of the Imperial Palace."

The reg swallowed. "Better to try." Bitterly, he added, "If I'm lucky, they'll kill me."

The sniper snorted despite himself. "I hear you. Some things are worse than death." Namely everything that had happened to him since Rampart had gotten his hands on him.

Crosshair studied the reg further. What the hell. The only thing he had to look forward to tonight was being shown off like a prized stud, then being used as a party favor. Might as well add a side of torture. Not like he wasn't used to it.

"Tell you what. I'll help. On three."

***

Wait, what? Dogma's head snapped up. "What??"

That earned him a bared teeth grin that had nothing in common with humor. "You heard me. Three."

And then the lone guard standing over Dogma went down to a blaster shot to the throat and they were running.

It was strange, but Dogma couldn't remember the last time he felt so alive.

***

The door to the outer room of Fox's hellhole slammed open before being closed again in a hurry.

"Take a minute to catch your breath," a voice said. "We won't be able to escape, but no reason to die tired."

A second voice, much more winded, agreed, "I can do that."

This was… interesting. Normally Fox got exactly two visitors, neither of whom slammed doors. The droid that fed him and cleaned up after him and Palpatine. Anyone else knew better than to get too close to the emperor's favorite toy. While it was unlikely anything good would come of this, any distraction was welcome in the tedium his life had become. Maybe if he was lucky, they'd kill him. They certainly couldn't do anything worse to him than had already been done.

"You might as well come in, boys," he called. "I already know you're here."

Fox could see the doorway to the front room from his bed. A clone in a prison uniform peeked around the door frame.

"Commander Fox!"

He recognized that tattoo. It'd once been his job to oversee the Coruscant prison system. Very few clones ever saw the inside of that institution; they'd been decommissioned or reconditioned, not imprisoned. So the ones who had? He knew.

"Private Dogma. What brings you to my corner of the galaxy?"

A second form joined Dogma's. This one he didn't recognize. Tall, white-haired with a crosshair tattoo around his right eye. "Oh, great," the white-haired man said, "Another reg. I say we kill him before raises the alarm."

Another reg? So this one was most likely a vod, too, if a non-standard one. Blandly, Fox told him, "You're welcome to. It'd be better than this. I'm paralyzed from the neck down; I can't even move to mess up your shot."

The probably-vod scoffed. "I never miss."

"All the better."

But instead of causing him to shoot, that seemed to settle something in the lanky man, letting him lean against the doorframe instead of standing poised to take that shot.

Dogma, on the other hand, stepped tentatively forward, settling on the side of Fox's bed. "What happened?"

"Obeyed an order. Got my neck snapped." Fox's eyes flashed. "Shabuir who did it got punished for it, though. The emperor doesn't like other people damaging his toys." Vader was still alive, more's the pity; unfortunately the emperor seemed to have a use for him.

The escaped prisoner patted his hand. Fox wished he could feel it. A vod giving him friendly, non-sexual touch? He *ached* for something like that.

"What are you boys in for?" he asked.

"Not a boy," the lanky one said.

Dogma gave the white-haired man a reproachful look before turning back to Fox. "They said they want to give me an award for killing General Krell." He nodded toward the other man. "I don't know why he's here. Or even who he is."

The man in question pushed away from the doorframe and came closer. "Crosshair. Clone Force 99, before the Empire. They wanted my loyalty and I gave it to them. Wasn't good enough for them either." He eyed Fox's reclined form. "Looks like you have a lot going for you. What's your story?"

Fox snorted. "Like I said. Did what I was told. Got rewarded with my neck being snapped. Now I'm the emperor's captive pet slash playtoy."

Crosshair snorted. "That's a theme. Being loyal, then getting kicked in the face."

Dogma's head sagged. "Like me and the general. I should have known better."

If Fox could have squeezed his hand, he would have. "Not your fault, Dog'ika. You took him out before he could hurt more brothers. You did the right thing."

Dogma looked up, eyes shining with tears. "Did I? Did I really? If I did the right thing, why did my broth-- why did the 501st arrest me? Why did they hold a trial and convict me? Why did they treat me like a traitor for saving their lives? They wouldn't have if Captain Rex had gone through with it and shot him like he was going to. I know they wouldn't have."

Fox cursed his lack of mobility. If there ever was a time when physical reassurance was needed, it was now.

But the lanky vod leaned in, resting his weight against Dogma. "Some people are just bastards. My batch stranded me on a platform on Kamino and took off, leaving me for dead. They came back for Omega, came back for *Hunter*, but couldn't even be bothered to give me a clean death."

Fox sighed. He wished that surprised him, but after the GAR had alternately ignored and abused his Guard during the war and his subsequent two years of torture at the hands of the emperor, he'd given up any belief he'd ever had in the goodness of others.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Well, vod'e. This has been lovely, but eventually we'll all have to return our own personal hells. Unless…"

"Unless?" Dogma asked.

Crosshair looked impatient. "Spit it out."

Fox licked his lips. "On the table there. The emperor left one of his toys there where I can't reach it. Taunted me. Said that it could give me a way out of this if I could reach it, except for how I'd never be leaving the bed again. Then he laughed. I don't know what exactly it does, but it's got to be better than this."

Dogma got up and brought the pyramid over to the bed. "You mean this?"

Crosshair stared at it, then switched his attention to Fox. "Kark it, I'm in. I've done stupider."

"I haven't," Dogma said. "Done stupider, I mean. Unless you count stepping in and killing the general. But…" He bit his lip. "The alternative is worse. So… Yes. I'm in too. I guess."

"How do we work it?" Crosshair asked.

Fox smiled mirthlessly. "The emperor was so kind as to explain that too. Just so I wouldn't get any ideas of trying to get the droid to do it for me. A living being has to hold all three sides of the bottom while simultaneously twisting the top. We should probably all be touching each other if both of you are serious about doing this. Skin contact just to be sure."

Crosshair nodded and stripped off his gloves, stashing them inside his chestpiece before grabbing Fox's ankle and the back of Dogma's neck.

Then Dogma twisted the holocron as instructed.

And the universe *shifted*.

***

The Manda loves Dogma, Fox and Crosshair. It is not the Force. The Force is the awareness of the universe; the collective consciousness of existence. The Manda cannot *not* be a part of the Force; everything is part of the Force, but they are not the same.

The Force does not care about any individual part of it. Everything is a part of it; to value some of it more or less than the rest is incomprehensible to it.

The Manda, on the other hand, cares very much about every individual who has called it into being, who swells it with their presence and spreads it further with their lives.

Unlike the Force, it *does* play favorites. And while the Force doesn't care whether something is alive or dead, the Manda *cherishes* the living, they who are defining it with their actions. When millions of beings go marching on ahead into it at once, it *notices*. And mourns with them the deaths of their vod'e, those verd'e who should not have marched on so soon. Is *outraged* that so many who would otherwise have come to it marched on ahead without having access to *their souls*.

It cannot change the past. The Force can, but time, like everything else, is a part of it and can thus be manipulated and moved by it just like every other part.

But the Manda *can* influence the present. And, unlike the Force, can touch every single person who is part of it. The Force is just too big; to pick out a single person is too difficult for it, like trying to find a single grain of sand on a beach. The Force can only touch those who, whether due to the amount of midichlorians clustering around them or through other factors, are distinct to it, standing out like glitter amid all the sand.

The Manda can touch every one of its people but it only loves a few, those bright with mandokarla in their souls, they who cherish and protect aliit with everything they have, to their last breath if necessary, and who will never stop fighting for their people. It is especially fond of those who have been physically, mentally and emotionally destroyed, with every ounce of fight choked out of them -- and go on to prove that the moment they can, the moment they are given the opportunity, they will go back to fighting for their aliit.

All three men have proven that they will fight for their aliit to the end of their endurance and beyond, despite having been abandoned and betrayed by the very people they fight for. Two of them have lost and regained their souls. One's body is too broken to continue fighting. And all three of them will be marching on ahead far too soon, without another chance to fight for that which matters most.

So it nudges. Gets the three together in the same place at the same time. Whispers 'Why not' to Crosshair. Prompts Fox to mention the holocron, a last chance artifact that the dar'jetii emperor in his hubris left too close to his favorite slave. Helps the holocron target an appropriate time and place for them to arrive.

And then it lets what will happen happen. It doesn't control people. The Manda is a *choice*. A *belief*. Only those who want to be there ever march to it. Hopefully *this* time more will have their souls and be able to march to it. The Manda expands with every soul added to it, and ten million souls? Now *that* is an army. And those marching on ahead? Well, they're marching *to* something, aren't they?

And if the Force doesn't work like that? Well, it isn't the Force, now is it?

***

Fox found himself sitting at a table in a familiar cafeteria. *Sitting* and wasn't that a trip? He looked around. He was surrounded by red clad bodies. Adult-sized vod'e, but no one he could see was wearing armor. Fox's eyes landed on the healing scar located on the forehead of the vod across him and with a sudden shock recognized the vod as Cody.

Pre-war then. But not by much. They'd been training in full armor for some time, but hadn't been issued their own until General Yoda had come to requisition a regiment for the first battle of Geonosis. Fox hadn't been in that fight, nor had any of his batchmates. But the armor had been issued to every trooper nonetheless, no doubt in anticipation of the war to come. They'd joked that if Yoda had showed up three months earlier, Cody wouldn't have anything to show off his glory to his future battalion with and would have had to rely on running them ragged with drills instead to get their respect.

Seeing his batchmates again? That *hurt*. More than he thought it should. His bad memories of them far outweighed the good, poisoning the well with all the requests for help derided and ignored. With the many insults thrown at him and his men and the physical altercations with their battalions, the barbs, scorn and abuse. These vod'e though? They'd done none of that.

But they would if he let events play out the same way as before.

They hadn't changed, Fox had.

But.

These vod'e who still believed in the Republic, still cherished the bonds between them? He barely knew them. They were strangers with familiar faces. Nothing more. None of them would understand what he'd been through, much less what needed to happen next.

A bony finger poked him in the side, interrupting his ruminations.

Fox jumped, then turned on the perpetrator, ready to commit violence. Part of him marveled at being *able* to turn. At being able to use his body again.

A short white-haired cadet glared back at him.

"Crosshair?" Fox asked, blinking. He remembered? Someone was here with him?

The cadet folded his arms across his chest. "We need to talk."

"Who's this, Fox?" Cody asked. "Friend of yours?"

"Like Fox has friends," Wolffe scoffed.

Fox picked up his tray. In a way, he was relieved. If they'd been kind, he would have had a harder time leaving them behind. "If you have to ask, you don't deserve to know. Seeing as how I apparently don't have any among my batchmates."

Crosshair snickered. Good to know Fox was amusing somebody.

As Fox walked away, he could hear protests starting up behind him. From what he remembered of them, his batchmates wouldn't come after him, not in public where the Kaminese or their trainers might see them. No, they'd wait to ambush him until right before they all climbed into their sleeping tubes for the night. He could decide how to handle them later.

If he showed up at all. He needed to consider his options first.

Halfway across the cafeteria to return his tray, another cadet, this one a little taller than Crosshair, threaded their way through the crowded room before coming to a halt just in front of Fox.

"Sir!" the cadet said.

"Dogma?" Fox asked, already fairly certain that was who it was, despite the lack of tattoo. He'd not exactly had cadets approaching him the first time through.

"Yes, sir."

Fox felt himself smile fondly. Dogma reminded him of his shinies. "I'm not a commander yet and maybe not ever. You don't need to call me that. Fox is fine. Come on. I know where we can sit down and talk about what we're going to do next."

He led the way to a maintenance closet used by the mouse droids that was just big enough for a single adult vod to fit in, if they ducked their head and crouched down, but which had a false wall concealing a compartment big enough for three full-sized vod'e (or four if they were willing to squeeze together, which his batch almost always had been when they'd used it for a meeting place in his first life). More than large enough for their purposes. Perfect memory was good for something at least.

Fox found a spot on the floor -- thankfully kept clean by the mouse droids, another perk of using it for meetings -- and sat.

Dogma spoke first. "Now what?"

Crosshair scoffed from where he'd leaned up against a wall. "I'll tell you what I'm not going to do."

"What's that?" Dogma asked.

"Get involved. They weren't loyal to me. I was one of them. They may have forgotten, but I haven't."

That sits in the air for a long moment. It wasn't like Fox didn't agree, but even on knowing Crosshair for less than a day, Fox could tell that he cared more than he's letting on, which was fair, because Fox felt the same way. Fox has always cared about the Guard and always will. And he couldn't stop caring about the rest of the Vode no matter how much he hated them for abandoning him and his people.

Still didn't mean he wanted to interact with them.

He felt Dogma lean into him and put an arm around the cadet. When Fox had gone through Kamino the first time, he wouldn't have done that. He'd been fixated on achieving the best scores, because the gray in his hair marked him out as a potential target for decommissioning. It wasn't until he'd been put in charge of the Coruscant Guard that he'd changed. His focus had gone to his men, to keeping them safe and as happy as anyone could be in the hellhole that was Coruscant.

Comforting a shiny was second nature to him now, and Fox was glad his presence could provide that comfort. And if took his own share of comfort in the weight of a vod resting against him? He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a positive touch. This? This was more than good.

***

Dogma had only ever wanted to belong. Not that he'd known how. The world confused him. People confused him. The only thing that made sense were rules. The first thing he'd learned, the lesson Kamino had engraved on his bones, was that if he followed the rules, he was safe.

Then following the rules got his brothers killed, and Dogma?

Well, Dogma did what he had to do to make things right. Even if it broke those rules. (After all, "Vode An" was a rule as well, and while it wasn't written down, that just made it all the more important because it was the one rule that *couldn't* be written down.) But the one time he didn't follow regulations? The one time he'd done what everyone had always told him to do -- break the rules -- he'd been put away for it.

Rules didn't work. And he still didn't understand people. Or the galaxy.

But Fox? Fox wrapped his arm around him. Hadn't let go. Was holding him at this moment. Was Fox his ori'vod now? Would Fox do this again? It hurt to hope.

Instead of asking about that, Dogma inquired, "What do we do? I'm just a cadet. The 501st doesn't exist and none of them know me." In a small voice, he added, "And my batchmates don't like me."

Crosshair apparently shared none of Dogma's doubts. "We give them what they never gave us. A chance. And then get the hell out."

Dogma sighed, envying Crosshair's certainty.

But after a moment, the white-haired vod acknowledged reluctantly, "My batch think I'm someone I'm not. I can't do this again."

"I agree," Fox said. "The Guard doesn't exist yet and I'm not going through that hell a second time. If I have my way, they won't have to either. If I'm right, we're about two months out from Geonosis. Kenobi will be arriving in around a month or so. We've got time to make some changes."

"Like what?" Dogma asked.

Crosshair responded readily. "Killing Rampart. And Nala Se."

Fox added, "Palpatine. And Skywalker."

That surprised Dogma. "General Skywalker??"

Pressed against Fox as he was, Dogma could feel the tension in the older vod's body.

Darkly, Fox said, "He's a Sith. He's the one who snapped my neck."

Dogma hunched in on himself. "…all right. And, um, I don't think I could do it again, but someone should probably do something about General Krell."

"We'll take care of him." Fox squeezed him. "You're doing fine, vod'ika", he whispered into Dogma's ear. "Ori'vod's got you."

***

Crosshair scowled. If asked, he would have claimed it was because of the two regs being overtly sappy in front of him. Never in a million years would he admit -- or allow anyone to claim -- it was due to envy. Even if it was. *Especially* if it was.

"And we need to get our chips out."

That got their attention, which meanly satisfied Crosshair, even though some part of him still ached for something he couldn't name.

"Chips?" the two asked, their voices combining.

"You didn't know about the chips we all have in our heads?" Crosshair asked scornfully. How dumb *were* they? "What did you think happened?"

Fox stiffened. "I knew our minds were being controlled. I never knew *how*."

"I didn't get much in the way of news," Dogma contributed quietly. "All I could tell was that, after a while, there weren't any more vod'e guarding the cells, just… you know."

"Natborns," Crosshair hissed.

The cadet nodded. "They didn't… the Vode didn't like me either, but they weren't… they didn't *do* things to me."

Crosshair grimaced and inclined his head. He understood. Didn't want to, but he got it. "Like I said, we have control chips in our heads. They have individual orders on them, but they're more than that. When they're activated--"

Fox cut him off, "We become meat droids. Like they always claimed we were."

Crosshair grimaced. He didn't want to spill all his secrets, but this was important. "Mine activated. They couldn't make me kill my team, but everything else?" He couldn't help the bitterness in his voice, "I thought it was my own idea to stay with the Empire up until the thing finally got disabled by too much head trauma. And then they found other ways to enforce their control." His hand snuck up to rub at his throat where the shock collar had rested.

Mercifully Fox didn't ask him to elaborate. "Yes, we need to remove ours as soon as possible. I presume you're taking out Nala Se since you mentioned her?"

Crosshair nodded. "It'll be easy. She won't be expecting me to fight back."

"Do you think you get the information on the chips from her if she knows and find out who does know if she doesn't? And any other information she might have that could help or hurt our vod'e."

The sniper nodded. After Kamino, Nala Se had activated his chip. It would be safer to just kill her. Trying to get information from the scientist would only give her an opportunity to seize control. No, it was better to find Omega. She had Nala Se's codes and access to her laboratory. (And Hunter would want her back where he hadn't wanted Cross--) "Yes, she was in on it. I can do that."

Fox nodded. "If we're giving our vod'e a chance, then we should let some of them know about the chips as well. I want to tell Alpha-17. And Cody."

"Tech." Briefly Crosshair considered adding Echo to the list of people to inform. But from what he'd caught of Echo's stories, he'd not been the capable ARC Crosshair knew until well after deployment. Until then, Echo had said, he'd been a rule-follower, rejected by everyone except his twin, Fives. No, better not.

"Rex," the cadet huddling into Fox's side offered.

More reluctantly, Fox added, "And Kenobi. He'll be coming here anyway. We can get him before we leave."

"You got a plan for that? We don't have the Marauder yet, so we can't use it." Which was for the best really. If seeing his batch wasn't bad enough, the Marauder had been home. While he could have managed to deal with living on the Marauder again if he'd had to, Crosshair felt relieved that it wasn't even a issue.

"Prime left for Geonosis shortly after Kenobi arrived so we know his ship will be here and available. We can steal it. If Prime doesn't head for Geonosis, Kenobi won't follow him there. And if Kenobi doesn't show up on Geonosis, then with any luck, Skywalker will get killed before his master can get to him."

Crosshair scoffed. "Luck."

Fox shrugged. "I know it's unlikely, but I can hope."

Crosshair thought about the Marauder again. If he'd had to take it, disabling the security measures Tech installed would have been first priority. And a major pain because Tech's idea of reasonable countermeasures made paranoiacs look cautious. But… "Prime's a bounty hunter. He'll have security. I think I can get Tech to slice Prime's ship if I pose it as an intellectual challenge. Once we're out of here, he'll know who took it, but…" He shrugged, muttering darkly, "We'll see if they're willing to come after me this time."

Fox rolled his eyes. "You're a cadet. Your batch are cadets. What do you think they can do?"

The answer to that was 'a lot', even when he'd still *been* a cadet, but stealing ships had never been part of his skillset, and slicing Prime's ship would be Tech's introduction to it, so Fox wasn't exactly *wrong*…

"…fine," he said begrudgingly.

***

Dogma felt a little left behind by the other two. Not because they were excluding him, no. Only -- they had so many plans! It was like they'd been thinking about this for a long time now. Not just the few hours it had been since they'd used the device that brought them back here.

Unsure as to whether they'd even welcome his input, he interjected, "Um, so. Prime's a bounty hunter, right? And a Jedi killer?"

Fox hmmed, "…yes?"

Crosshair just snapped out an impatient "And?"

Dogma hunched his shoulders. "So what if we left him details on the bad Jedi? He's going to try to kill them anyway, so why not point him at the ones we don't want around?"

Fox hugged him. "Good thinking, vod'ika. Prime's a professional. Unlike Boba, he'll only take out his targets, not our brothers. We'll get a datapad and write something up and plant it for him to find. The mouse droids will help. We can leave him a few tips too."

"Like 'wear a ghet'bur', di'kut. Or 'do some karking research on your targets first'. Or maybe, 'don't go to Geonosis?'" Crosshair offered sarcastically.

"All good ideas," Fox commented.

Dogma's cheeks felt hot from blushing at Fox's compliment. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been praised. "Thank you, sir," he whispered, not wanting to interrupt.

That earned him a rub of Fox's chin over the top of his head. "Still ori'vod to you, Dog'ika."

That made him blush harder. "…yes, ori'vod."

Crosshair cleared his throat.

Fox glared at him, but continued, "When we write it up, we should add Ki-Adi-Mundi to the list. Bacara had a lot to say about that sanctimonious prick. Might as well give Prime something to keep him busy." He snapped his fingers, "And the adult Jedi who chose to become Inquisitors. Prosset Dibs and Iskat Akaris. Plus that shabla temple guard who became the Grand Inquisitor." He paused for a second, then nodded decisively. "I think that's all of them. Unless either of you know anyone else…?"

Both he and Crosshair shook their heads.

They seemed to have the immediate future in hand. But that still left a lot open. While Kamino held its own terrors, it was the outside galaxy that held the most unknowns.

"And what do we do after we leave?" Dogma heard himself asking in a scared voice.

Ori'vod sounded confident, "Take out our targets. Rampart first, given that he'll be the least challenging."

"...that's fair," Crosshair said begrudgingly.

"Then Krell," Fox continued, "if Prime hasn't already gotten him, since he's personal, which Ki-Adi-Mundi and the others aren't. Can't do Skywalker before Palpatine; it would tip that chakaar off. Once Krell is dead, I'll go after Palpatine."

Crosshair cocked his head. "What's this 'I' thing?"

Fox sounded grim. "Palpatine's dangerous. I'm going to stack the deck every way possible, but any slip-up and the smart thing to do will be to kill myself before he can ransack my mind and…"

The voice of his ori'vod trailed off and Dogma remembered the bed they'd found him on, how pale and sunken Fox appeared. He twisted so he could wrap both arms around his ori'vod.

"...this is because we look like cadets, isn't it?" Crosshair asked.

Fox patted Dogma's back comfortingly, "Not *just* that, but yes. And because you're cadets."

Crosshair snarled, "Yeah, how about no. I don't have anything to live for any more than you do and you could use a sniper."

Dogma's eyes grew wet. He didn't want to die, but he wanted to be alone even less. Crosshair had a good reason to go with Fox. He'd probably get taken along. Dogma didn't have anything to offer. Nothing with which to convince them to take him with them.

Still curled against Fox, he craned his neck to look up at him, "...you're going to die and leave me alone, ori'vod?" Voice strangled by tears, he added, "Please let me come too. Please don't make me lose another family."

It's too soon to know if they'll stay. No one else ever stayed, ever wanted Dogma to stay. But Fox liked his idea. Praised him even, while Crosshair treated Dogma exactly like he treated Fox. Which wasn't *good*, but at least Crosshair disliked them both equally, not Dogma specifically.

He didn't have a choice. He *had* to ask.

Because Dogma didn't want to be alone again.

***

Fox sighed and looked down at the cadet cuddled against him. He didn't want to drag either of them into what was more than likely to be a suicide mission.

But.

None of them were actually children. All of them were soldiers, had taken lives and knew what it was to put their lives on the line.

"...fine," Fox allowed eventually. "Both of you can come. If we live, then I want to take down the Senate as well. As a personal project. Skywalker isn't as much of a threat with Palpatine out of the picture. The Senate is."

Dogma looked up at him, expression quizzical, like he wasn't sure why Fox was even asking, "All right?"

Crosshair just gave a single nod. "Fine."

None of them brought up what they'd do after that. Fox didn't have anyone to return to; the Guard didn't exist yet and wouldn't know him and he didn't want their existence to even become *necessary*. And the less he said about his batchmates, the better. He'd been estranged from them so long that the vod'e in the cafeteria seemed like strangers.

He didn't know about Crosshair; he'd never met the snarky vod before. Would he shoot off into the black as soon as they didn't need him anymore? Fox couldn't say.

But it looked like he'd have Dogma at least. And that? That was something.

Maybe they could take up hunting as a hobby if they lived that long? It wasn't like he didn't have enough targets in mind from his first go around and only so many of them were conveniently located in one place. And as long as he was dreaming, they could finance themselves from one of Palpatine's many slush funds and trade Prime's ship in for a Kom'rk class fighter so they could go gallivanting around the galaxy like a bunch of holoheroes.

Fox snorted, earning himself a look from the other two. Him, a holohero? Like that would ever happen.

***

The reason Crosshair didn't bring up the future was because he had no one to share it with. While it was true that the original Bad Batch were all together and whole in this time, there was so much trauma there that he fled their barracks as soon as he woke up in the past. He just couldn't envision a future with those three in it.

And he'd had enough of working for others. He wouldn't do that again, not for the Republic and certainly not for the Empire.

That left a galaxy full of possibilities, none of which he knew how to navigate on his own.

Crosshair didn't know these two regs, but it looked like he had something in common with them. Would they even live to have a future? And if they did, would the regs want him in it? Did he even want the regs to stick around?

He guessed he'd find out.

Maybe it would be enough.

***

Dogma felt hopeful that Fox and Crosshair would let him stay. If he's not imagining things, maybe there's a place for him. Wherever they end up. Whatever the future might look like.

It wasn't like there was anywhere else for him. The 501st wouldn't want him even when they did get going as a unit. They didn't want him before, why would it be different now? And his batch? Well, he'd been bullied as soon as he stepped out of his sleeping pod today, so he guessed things hadn't changed much there either.

The only person he would miss, the only person he had ever missed, was Tup.

Tup, who had stood with the rest of the 501st as they arrested him and escorted him to the oubliette. Tup, who'd never visited him in prison.

Dogma found himself crawling into Fox's lap and grabbing hold of Fox's shirt to bury his face in it. He didn't know why he was acting like this, why his eyes were watering where nothing before this could make him cry, but all he could feel was grateful when Fox simply wrapped his arms around him and crooned reassurances.

Whatever else might happen, he only wanted a future if Fox and Crosshair were in it. He couldn't face another lifetime of being alone.

***

From the perspective of the majority of the Vode, their time on Kamino ended not with a whimper but a bang as several things happened nearly simultaneously to disrupt their hitherto regimented existence:
• One of the legendary Jedi arrived on Kamino.
• Nala Se died.
• Four vod'e (and the Jedi) received datapads containing details on the control chips in the heads of every CC and CT, including the encoded orders as well as the instructions necessary for a medical droid to remove them.
• The Prime fled with Boba in the Jedi's ship.

Predictably the result of these events was nothing less than pure chaos.

The presence of the Jedi caused a stir to go through the Vode, but for four of them, something far more riveting held their attention. And that was the datapads that had mysteriously appeared by their sides when they woke up that morning. They held information that changed everything the Vode knew about their lives, about the war they were made to fight for. Their purpose was a lie. They weren't made *for* the Jedi. No, they were made to *destroy* the Jedi.

The first thing Cody did was to organize a squad to sequester Kenobi. While they may not have been made for the Jedi, that didn't mean he wanted them dead. Especially not if someone was trying to force them to kill the Jedi. Cody had Opinions about following the orders of someone who thought turning his brothers into meat droids was a good idea.

That went… strangely.

The Jedi turned out to be less trouble than expected. Kenobi didn't resist arrest by the squad sent to confront him, only requested access to comm the Jedi Council and, when that had been refused, merely asked politely that they consider letting him talk to their leader once things settled down.

He'd even surrendered his lightsaber.

When Cody heard that, he wished they had Force suppressing cuffs. If the Jedi didn't mind having his weapon taken from him, then the logical assumption was that the Jedi felt confident that he had some other means of self-defense. Namely the Force.

And they didn't have a good idea yet of what the Force could do.

They'd been taught about the Jedi, yes, but in broad terms and not about their powers. They knew Jedi fought with plasma swords and they knew that they had the Force, but not what the Force was or what it could do, other than 'jetii osik' or 'magic'.

Cody made sure that they had at least two separate squads monitoring the quarters where the Jedi was being held while yet another squad watched remotely via the security system. And still wasn't sure that was enough.

Then he'd gone to talk to Alpha-17. With backup, because he wasn't stupid.

Alpha-17 personally trained his batch and Cody knew him well. The alpha class clone took duty seriously. He believed in the Republic, was uncompromising in his ideals and could be a major obstacle to the plans Cody had for Kamino and their lives going forward. He'd never anticipated going up against Alpha-17. Alpha-17 was *not* someone Cody wanted as an opponent. Alpha-17 believed fighting fair was for people who didn't think they could win any other way, prepared for *every* possibility and *didn't lose*.

That encounter also went oddly.

Alpha-17 had been in his bunkroom, apparently waiting for them. He'd stood when Cody entered the room.

"Took your time. You got a plan?"

Cody stared, Wolffe and Rex standing on either side of him, still pointing their blasters at the alpha class clone. "You're willing to go along with a takeover? I thought you'd side with the Republic."

Alpha-17 somehow gave the impression of rolling his eyes without ever changing his expression. "After reading about the chips? Loyalty's something to give. Not something *taken*.

And that had been that.

The first thing the Vode did was to seize control of Kamino using plans supplied by Cody. (Ironically, most of these plans were authored by Fox, who, in the opinions of his batch, took paranoia to a whole new level.) Thankfully Alpha-17 proved to be a great help, already having his own preparations made for exactly this eventuality. Having some things done in advance sped up their timetable considerably.

Despite not seeing his batchmate since before the takeover, Cody didn't even *consider* that Fox might be missing. Fox had been disappearing on them for weeks, spending what little free time they got with two CTs. Cody wished Fox felt comfortable bringing them to meet the batch, but understood: given Wolffe's *everything*, and the obvious defect in the form of the white hair of the younger of Fox's ad'ike, it had to be hard to let a vod'ika run into the line of fire like that. He assumed that Fox was with the two of them now. While disappointed in Fox's unwillingness to step up during the crisis, Cody could understand wanting to keep your vod'ika safe. It wasn't like he was letting Rex out of arms' reach, after all.

It took a week post-takeover before anyone realized differently.

To Cody's shame, he wasn't the one who figured it out.

In his defense, he'd been running Tipoca City for the better part of that week and trying to devise a plan going forward for the survival of the Vode. *Not* distracted by the pretty Jedi despite what his batchmates might claim.

It was four non-standard clones who brought Fox's continued absence to his attention.

"Vod'alor Cody," a goggled cadet addressed him. He was accompanied by three others: one with hair much longer than regulation, another who was considerably larger than the other three and a *female* cadet of all things. As well as 99, who stood behind them, stooped over the four protectively. "My research indicates that my batchmate, your own batchmate and another cadet absconded with Prime's ship and left Kamino earlier in the week. I would like to know what information you possess about this and how you intend to proceed. We would like our batchmate back."

Cody froze at hearing that. Not because of the title. He'd gotten used to being addressed as vod'alor. It'd felt odd at first, being elevated above his brothers, but someone had to be in charge and given that he'd taken the lead, it made sense, even if it had only been by chance. If the datapad with the information about the control chips had gone to someone else, he would be calling them vod'alor. Fox, for example. Fox had been the one behind most of the plans Cody had used to take over Tipoca City; he was more than qualified.

Except he was missing.

And now Cody knew why. "Your vod has white hair, doesn't he?"

"Yes," the goggled cadet replied. "He, CC-1010 and CT-6922 are the ones who left Kamino, although their purpose in doing so has yet to be determined."

Cody closed his eyes. *What have you done, Fox?* "I don't know where they went. I didn't know they'd left until you told me just now." He made a note of the CT number. No one had reported a CT cadet missing; of the thankfully few casualties, all had been adult vod. His batch would no doubt appreciate knowing they didn't need to add him to their remembrances.

"I see." The vod adjusted something on the datapad he held before looking back up. "In that case, I require access to the holonet. Given the requests Crosshair made before he departed, I expect that their activities will come to the attention of the galaxy as a whole in short order."

"What's your name, vod'ika? And what requests would those be?" Cody would like to stop being blindsided by sudden changes, but battle is never static and adaptability was something he'd trained for.

"I am Tech and these are Hunter, Wrecker and Omega." Tech pointed at each of the cadets accompanying him in turn. "Before his departure, Crosshair left information about the inhibitor chips, including instructions for removal, as well as details about our advanced aging and how to reverse it. He also challenged me to find a way to gain entry to the Prime's ship, which I believe is how he was able to commandeer it. And immediately before leaving, he introduced us to Omega, an unaltered female clone of Prime who previously served as Nala Se's laboratory assistant. I believe this was a diversionary tactic to prevent us from questioning his absence earlier."

And that was a virtual *wall* of information. "I'll get you your access if you'll get me a detailed report of your findings. The information could be crucial to our plans."

Tech considered carefully. "Agreed."

The long-haired cadet cleared his throat. "Although--"

"Yes?" Cody asked.

"If you decide to go after them, we want to be included."

Cody shook his head. "You're cadets. We've got older vod'e who can get the job done. You're staying here."

"With all due respect, sir, if you don't let us go, we'll find our own way there. If you want any input in what we do, you'll take us with you."

He'd heard absolutely *no* respect in Hunter's tone. But Cody could also tell that the cadet meant every word he said. Given that one of his batchmates had, with Fox's help, orchestrated all of this while another hacked Prime's ship *and* that attitude? Cody believed him. "All right."

The larger one, Wrecker, cheered. Cody held up a hand. "But I'm not planning for anyone to leave Kamino at this time. If you want to be included, you'll need to be patient. Can you do that or do I have to find someone to sit on you to make sure you stay put?"

Tech cocked his head, about to open his mouth, but Hunter put his hand on the goggled cadet's shoulder, forestalling him.

"That's fine. We can do that. But if you try to leave without us, we'll find a way to come along or make our own way there. Just so you know."

"Of that I have no doubt. You have my word."

***

Cody deputized Ponds to talk to CT-6922's batch. All of the CCs were busy, but Ponds was the most approachable vod Cody knew other than 99 (who was filling a critical role managing the tubies). And if anyone could deal with cadets who'd just lost their batchmate, it was Ponds.

Ponds could handle it. He was the diplomat of the group. He'd be perfect for the job.

Spoiler: Ponds was not perfect for the job and he could not handle it.

"What happened," Cody repeated flatly.

"In my defense, I went in after him. I didn't let the little chakaar drown. I mean, it wouldn't have been a great loss, but it still would have sent the wrong message…"

"What. The. Kriff. Ponds."

Ponds broke off from his ranting to give Cody a level look. "Their batcher went missing. Now we all know that just happens sometimes -- someone gets pulled out and sent to decommissioning -- but that's the point -- someone *always knows*. You don't leave a vod alone -- bad things happen when vod'e get separated. Those little shabuir'e -- they *chased theirs off* two months ago! Two months! When we know he only left Tipoca City a week ago! Where's he even been sleeping? And that wasn't even the worst part!"

Cody didn't want to hear more, but at the same time, he was weirdly fascinated. "What's the worst part?"

"They were happy he was gone for good and surprised to find out that him leaving was recent. One of them even threw a fit that he was still alive! Who does that, Cody? *Who does that*??"

"That's the one you threw off the pier, right?"

"I didn't *throw* him! He slipped!"

Cody raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. "Really, vod? That's what you're going with?"

"It's the truth! Yes, I *was* holding him over the water, but if he hadn't bit me…"

"Never mind, I believe you. I'm officially appalled, but I believe you."

"Officially?" Ponds asked. "That means you approve of what I did, doesn't it? Unofficially anyway."

"Unofficially," Cody said, "you could have let him find him own way out of the water. *You* made it, didn't you, when it happened to you?"

Ponds' eyes narrowed. "A trainer threw me in."

"Exactly. You both learned something. You learned that natborns can't be trusted. He learned that actions have consequences and it's your vod'e who keep you alive. Unofficially, you did the right thing."

Ponds considered that for a moment. "Thanks, Cody. I think I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, vod."

***

The moment the Jedi showed up, Jango knew he needed to get off Kamino.

The last death he'd been involved with could lead to some unpleasant questions, yes, but he could deal with those. Had dealt with worse over the course of his career. Even in the Core, bounty hunting was not illegal so long as the guild was involved and this time? The target hadn't been his contract or his kill. From a legal standpoint, he could claim to have taken out an assassin and the Jedi would have to let him go.

But Jango knew too much about the clones and about who had truly commissioned them, even if that Sithspawned contract kept him from talking about who'd hired him. Tyrannus had made it clear what would happen to Jango if the Jedi got hold of him. Sanctimonious murdering hypocrites, the lot of them. And he had a son to protect.

His original plan for the arrival of the Jedi had been to head to Geonosis as per instructions from Tyrannus.

That, however, had been before the mysterious arrival of a datapad. It appeared in his quarters without warning on the very same day the Jedi showed up. When he'd gone to bed, it hadn't been there and when he woke up, it was waiting for him on the table. He'd checked, but his security systems had not been sliced and the only ones to come in or go out were Boba and himself.

The information on the datapad was concerning. Don't go to Geonosis. Invest in neck protection. Research his targets before going after them, especially if going after Jedi -- which, while good advice, was slightly insulting -- and it went on from there. And to top it all off? A list of Jedi that needed killing.

Kenobi's name was not on the list. That was a little disappointing considering that Kenobi was already on Kamino, but Jango could see the way the wind was blowing. His unnamed benefactor knew about Geonosis, which spoke to their information gathering skills, and seemed to want him alive, which was an improvement over Tyrannus. While Jango nominally worked for Tyrannus, he was well aware that Sith were even less trustworthy than Jedi. If he'd been able to back out of his contract with the dar'jetii, he would have. But once he'd got stuck in, refusal hadn't been an option. At least he'd gotten Boba out of it.

However with the arrival of the Jedi, Jango's contract was over. He owed Tyrannus one last report and that was it.

Given the warning about Geonosis, Jango suspected that Tyrannus intended to make that a final report in more ways than one.

Making the report could not be avoided. Violating the Sith's contract was not something he could do as much as it burned to leave his millions of clones behind to be used by the Jedi. But nothing in the contract stipulated that the report had to be submitted in person. Jango intended to send a comm before leaving Kamino's airspace and then disappear into the black.

And if he took the time to do some research on the Jedi listed on the datapad? He needed *something* to do with his newly freed up time after all. It wasn't like Boba couldn't use a lesson on information gathering and properly vetting your sources either. Whether he actually went after one or more of the Jedi on the list would depend on what he found out. If killing them would protect the clones who should have been his children? Then he would act. He'd been forever prevented from claiming them or treating them like anything but meat droids by the dar'jetii noose around his neck. But there was absolutely nothing preventing him from killing Jedi.

He was free and clear for the first time in ten years. His decisions and his fate were his own.

And Jango Fett would never be anyone's slave ever again.

***

They decided to leave a memorial behind them on Tipoca City for all the vod'e who had marched on and would never get to leave. The only reason Fox, Crosshair and CT-6922 did not get added to the wall was because of the efforts of one non-standard cadet.

The cadet now standing in front of Cody with a datapad in his hands.

"I'm sorry, what?" Cody asked, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Did my wording confuse you?" Tech asked. "If you'd like to indicate which portion caused the difficulty, I can explicate that section more clearly."

Hunter pinched his brow. "Not what he meant, Tech."

"Oh?" Tech looked to his brother. "What *did* he mean, then?"

"I *meant*," Cody interjected, "that it's hard to imagine any of that could even happen, much less that Fox and two cadets could be responsible for all of it."

"Ah! An exclamation of disbelief. I'll make a note of it."

And to Cody's bemusement, Tech proceeded to do just that before looking up again.

"While it may be difficult to accept my account as factual, the evidence speaks for itself. According to the holonews, events were proceeding at baseline up until the day before yesterday. Which is two days after Crosshair would have arrived on Coruscant if he proceeded directly there from Kamino. Then the situation destabilizes dramatically when the Chancellor is killed in public on the Senate floor via long range fire along with several others, followed by a number of other high profile assassinations, including senators and Jedi. It is not unreasonable to assume these incidents to be related, and given Crosshair's skillset as a sniper as well as the timing, also plausible that they are connected to why he killed Nala Se."

"He killed Nala Se?" Cody and Hunter asked simultaneously.

Tech looked between them. "Yes? Was it not obvious that Crosshair obtained the information about the chips from her files?"

"Tech," Hunter groaned, "you've got to *tell* me these things."

"Ah. So it was not. Understood."

"But why?" Cody asked, not expecting either of the cadets to answer. "What caused this? If it is them, how did they even know to do these things?"

Tech turned to Hunter, who groaned. "No, Tech, it's not obvious. Please, just tell us."

"Why, time travel, of course."

Cody sighed. He wasn't certain he agreed with the cadet's conclusion, but his evidence was another matter. *Something* had sent Fox across the galaxy, and given the sheer chaos he'd left behind on Kamino? It wasn't unreasonable to assume that the chaos on Coruscant was linked. "They're not coming back, are they?"

"Unlikely. Crosshair failed to notify any of us of his plans. Under the circumstances, it is reasonable to assume that, whatever may have transpired in the future, we were no longer together as a batch. I calculate a 78% chance that Crosshair has become estranged from us in that time with a 95% chance that it was our fault."

Hunter started with surprise. "Our fault?"

"Indeed. Crosshair did not tell us what he was doing. He would not have deceived us for our own good. And while he may have a caustic personality, he is not disloyal."

"Maybe it was because of our age. We're cadets; if he's actually an adult, he might not have wanted to risk us," Hunter suggested, looking, well, *hunted*.

"No, Hunter. If that were it, he would not have involved me. I fear my conclusions are correct, however little I would like them to be."

At least the cadet sounded disappointed, Cody thought bleakly. At least this one wanted his vod back. "If I record something for you, do you think you could find a way to get a message to them?"

Tech cocked his head. "Interesting. You realize I do not currently have a method of doing so?"

Cody nodded. "You're the smartest vod I know. And you know your batchmate. If anyone can, you'll find a way. I believe in you."

Now he just had to come up with a message. And an apology. Because what Tech said about Crosshair? Went double for Fox. Fox might not be the nicest, but he was loyal. He'd left without telling them, without even a whisper of his intentions and if Tech's theory about time travel was true? Then they'd betrayed him, not the other way around.

Either way, he'd saved them and left. And that said everything.

***

Palpatine was just another target to Crosshair. It didn't matter which he was, whether he were Jedi or Sith. A Force user was a Force user as far as Crosshair was concerned. He knew of the stories of Jedi being able to sense intentions and Dogma confirmed them. While Crosshair challenged anyone to sense intention at 13 kilometers, the Senate chamber was only two kilometers across. So he needed something to get and keep Palpatine's attention if he wanted to be assured of a clean kill.

"I'll take care of it," Fox told him.

Crosshair had scoffed.

But Fox proved to be just as good at causing distractions as the Bad Batch, releasing what had to be over a thousand hawk-bats into the chamber during the middle of the chancellor's speech -- and, if that wasn't enough, simultaneously setting off dozens of mines planted on the bottom of select repulsor pods.

That made Crosshair smirk. Bad idea to piss off the head of your security, Palps.

Or, should he say, Dead Guy?

For anyone else, the shot would have been difficult, given the many distractions. Shrapnel, falling people, smoke from wildly out of control pods, swooping avians and the moving target of Palpatine's repulsor pod as the Sith lord attempted to flee the chaos.

Crosshair, however, took the shot, confirmed the kill and then moved onto targets of opportunity. Burtoni. Amedda. Free Ta. Lott Dod. Saam. He'd had to skip a clear shot at the Banking Clans' representative when Naboo's pod got too close -- Fox had warned him that Binks was a chaos nexus and that he should be avoided at all costs.

"The only person Palpatine was afraid of," Fox had told him gleefully during their pre-planning session while they'd still been in hyperspace during their journey to Coruscant. "He hated Binks, but even he knew better than to tempt whatever power keeps that blithering idiot alive. Binks took out more assassins *by accident* than the Guard managed to do on purpose."

So Crosshair moved on and took out one of Eriadu's aides instead. One less to kill later. Fox had a list. With citations, detailing offenses from the most severe all the way down to an aide who'd spilled hot caf on one of his troopers. Crosshair could respect that kind of pettiness.

(And loyalty. The people Fox was avenging didn't even *know* him and Fox still had their backs. The sniper wanted that for himself.)

By the time Fox commed him to let him know that the Coruscant security forces were on the move, Crosshair had eliminated two thirds of Fox's list. Not a bad haul if he did say so himself.

***

Dogma was in awe of both Fox and Crosshair. Ori'vod had detailed knowledge of the Senate, including personnel, layout *and* security -- and made Prime look like a coward by fearlessly wading into the Undercity to collect whole flocks of the vicious flying predators known as hawk-bats.

"It's not that hard," Fox had told him. "They eat the silicate parasites that infest the Undercity. You'd be surprised how effective a droid popper can be against them. Stir them up, get a flock after you, then bang, and all that's left is securing them for transport."

"You brought droid poppers with you from Kamino?" Dogma had squeaked. His ori'vod was so kandosii'la!

"Of course," Fox replied. "If you want to improvise, you have to have something to improvise *with*. Planning doesn't survive contact with the enemy and you can end up preparing for entirely the wrong thing. But if you don't do either, you've already lost."

Crosshair snorted. "We never did any of that."

Fox stared at him. "No planning, hmm? So what do you call the years you spent training to be good enough to get by without it?"

Crosshair didn't reply, so Dogma supposed Fox won that argument. Ori'vod always knew what he was talking about and always had a reason for anything he said.

It made Dogma feel safe. It'd been a long time since he felt safe.

Which was why he was contemplating climbing into Fox's bunk.

They'd abandoned Prime's ship in the docking bay where they'd landed. According to both Crosshair and Fox, they risked too much if they continued to make use of it. Apparently Prime would do nearly anything to get it back and it would be in their best interests to be a long way away before he caught up to it.

After taking down Palpatine and the Senate, Fox acquired a new ship from somewhere, a feat that only reinforced Dogma's faith in his ori'vod's ability to do anything he set his mind to. He'd then given Dogma a credit chip and entrusted him with getting them supplied while he and Crosshair took care of the remaining beings present on Coruscant whose breathing privileges they wanted revoked.

Dogma didn't resent being given a menial task instead of being allowed to help with their main purpose in being here. He was just happy to be useful.

And so now here he was, stowing the dishes they'd used for latemeal away as slowly as he could, stalling as much as possible.

One thing Dogma missed dearly from the 501st was a vodpile. Torrent had never been fond of him, but that didn't stop them from dragging him in. There was something comforting about the presence of other vod'e during sleep. Being able to feel that you weren't alone, that you were safe in the presence of your vod'e -- he'd missed that the most of everything during prison.

Since arriving in the past, Dogma hadn't had an opportunity to join a vodpile. His batch had thrown him out almost immediately and Crosshair and Fox slept with their own batches. He'd gone back to the same solution he'd resorted to in his first life: taking up the place of someone recently decommissioned. In his first life, he'd had to switch batches three times before deployment. This time around, his replacement batch had less time to get annoyed with him so he hadn't had to switch again, but Dogma knew it would have gone the same way as before if not faster this time. It wasn't like he'd gotten any *better* at people after Krell. So there'd been no vodpiles, no pod sharing, with his new batch. Dogma hadn't expected it; in his first life, the subsequent batches never warmed up to him, transitioning from wariness directly to dislike without any stops in between.

While the three of them had finally been in the same place once they fled Kamino, Dogma and the others had all been too tense on the lead up to Coruscant to get much sleep. Dogma didn't think Fox slept at all, while Crosshair seemed to only sleep when his body couldn't physically keep up anymore. So once again Dogma slept alone.

Only now they were done with that. Done with Coruscant and safely back in hyperspace.

And Fox had left in the direction of the crew quarters ten minutes ago. Probably enough time for him to have used the fresher and hit the rack.

Almost enough time for Dogma to work up the nerve to go join him.

He fidgeted for another five minutes before tiptoeing into the crew quarters. When he peeked in, he found Fox occupying a bunk, sprawled out over it. He appeared to be fully asleep.

Quietly, Dogma used the fresher and removed his kute before hesitating at the edge of the bunk. Was this the right thing to do? Should he have asked while Fox was still awake?

A hand reached out for him.

"Eep!"

***

Fox chuckled at the sound the cadet made. He'd been half-asleep when Dogma snuck in. He hadn't expected Dogma, but that didn't mean the other vod's presence was unwelcome.

He pulled back the edge of his blanket. "C'mon, vod'ika. You don't want to get cold."

The vod'ika crawled in eagerly, snuggling up against Fox's front with a noise of pleasure before freezing and looking up at Fox with wide eyes. "Are you sure, ori'vod?"

Fox's heart broke a little. Dogma always expected criticism, regardless of what he'd done or how well he'd done it. He had no idea that Fox would never do that to him. He never used criticism when praise would do. Praise was much more effective, especially with shinies. He would just have to keep encouraging Dogma until his vod'ika understood that he was wanted and valued.

"You're fine, Dog'ika. Go to sleep." Fox settled the blanket around the two of them and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, a weight insinuated itself on top of them, slinking under the blanket like a stray tooka creeping in when you weren't looking. Fox smiled to himself. His other shiny, twice as prickly and skittish as the first, and who Fox cherished just as much.

His aliit were all together. They had a ship and the freedom to do what they wanted. Palpatine was dead and the Vode had a chance at surviving whatever came next. Everything was copacetic.

Whatever came next, Fox was satisfied.

***

Crosshair didn't bond with the two regs. Yes, he did talk to them a lot more than he'd ever talked to anyone else. But he wasn't *bonding* when he bitched about his past; he was sharing because they needed the intel and no other reason than that. Yes, he may or may not have been behind the cups of caf that kept mysteriously appearing at Fox's elbow and it was also true that he did wait for the reg cadet to catch up when he inevitably fell behind on their trips outside the ship. But not because he liked either of them. Fox became a zombie without caf which made him a liability so it was only self-interest on his part -- getting Fox caf improved *Crosshair's* chances of living through this. And he only waited for the reg because it would be a security lapse if they lost a valuable intelligence asset, not because he *liked* the cadet or was fond of him or anything like that. Not fond at all, even if, after having spent his entire life with Tech, listening to the reg ramble on about all the rules they were violating made for familiar, reassuring white noise, like the sound of a hyperdrive in the background used to be, before Rampart.

And no one would be able to prove that he joined them in the bunk they were sharing. Not if they were already asleep when he climbed in and he left before they woke up.

If he never left their little group, never even mentioned the possibility of going his own way, then that was just practicality. Fox had resources and they had a purpose he could get behind. No other reason.

Certainly not because he liked what he'd found here. And absolutely not because they'd become his family.

People, after all, couldn't be trusted. He *knew* that; he'd been burned time and time again by giving even a fraction of trust to others. He couldn't do it again. Even the *thought* of doing so made him flinch.

But when Crosshair crept into the bunk that night, he didn't resist when, after he'd gotten himself settled, Fox turned and pulled him in.

And if he'd cried when Fox scruffed a hand across his scalp? It was the fault of this stupid cadet body. And not because he couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him in a genuinely caring way.

That was his story and he was sticking to it.

***

After enough dechipping had been completed to make it so that it was no longer dangerous to do so, the Vode let Kenobi out of confinement and discussed matters with him. (Cody chose not to mention anything about time travel or the three individuals at the heart of all the changes. He had no reason to share the information with anyone; he doubted they would believe him and, given that not even he had questioned Fox's disappearance, it seemed unlikely anyone would care.)

Before talking to the Jedi? The Vode had been discussing finding a planet in Wild Space and settling it, possibly alongside freed slaves, as a large portion of their vod'e wanted to *use* their training and anti-slavery was a cause they resonated with.

But then they'd made the mistake of letting Kenobi speak and, well. Plans change. Oh, how they changed.

They moved in with the Jedi. In the chaos following the assassination of much of the Senate and with Kenobi's report on Kamino, the Jedi Council had apparently seen fit to push through a repeal of something called the Ruusan Reformation and renounce their ties to the Republic Senate.

Kenobi explained it to Cody. "We refused a seat in the Republic Senate because we wanted to be impartial servants to the entire galaxy and yet we bound ourselves to obey that very body through that agreement. The repeal is something we should have done long before now. That doing so allows us to care for you and your brothers is a delightful perk."

Cody did *not* blush. Regardless of what Rex might say, the little snitch.

The Vode ended up being the basis of a new Jedi division, officially designated the Relief Corps. While their main mission *was* relief work, helping in the wake of things such as natural disasters and wars, they also fulfilled other duties. Like the battalion that joined the Temple guard in securing the Coruscant temple. And the squads that accompanied each Jedi into the field as well as the companies transporting them.

Their new lives also included freedoms they had never before possessed. Things previously forbidden to them became extremely popular, activities like hobbies (baking and pranking took the top two spots) and games (by order of the medics, if injury was possible, it was training), relationships, and for a very few, life outside the Vode completely.

And if some of them got addicted to a holoseries following the adventures of the hot new megastars known as the Mandalorian Avengers? Well, the Vode got to do things like trawl the holonet now. It was allowed.

Watching a riveting show about a family of larger than life holoheroes who wander the galaxy freeing slaves, righting wrongs, killing bad guys and toppling corrupt organizations? Everyone liked a little wish fulfillment in their lives. The show had something for everyone in it. The older vod'e all wanted to be the adult Mandalorian who led the Avengers, while the cadets looked up to the pair of smaller Mandalorians who the adult called ad'ike.

It wasn't like any of it was *real*, after all. No ad'ika could be as good of a sniper as the cadet in black or as skilled at close quarters combat as their sibling in blue. The Vode had trained as soldiers; unlike other viewers, they knew how long it took to achieve that level of ability. None of them had been that good at that age -- there was no way a natborn could be. It was all staged. It had to be.

Only Cody and Tech suspected otherwise.

But their messages went unanswered.

And that? Was a message of its own.

***

Bonus:
Crosshair read the apology with a grimace. He didn't want to give up his newfound life. Even if he'd *wanted* groveling, he had absolutely no desire to go back.

Dogma leaned in, "What's that?"

"Fan mail," Crosshair deadpanned.

"More??"

"Space it before it breeds," Fox advised.

And, given permission, Crosshair did just that, smirking gleefully.