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Star Wars Clone Wars: Cyclone Squad IC

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Shaak Ti would half glance over her shoulder at the Padawan as they make their steady way down the corridor. 'Perhaps Padawan you may be surprised about how the methods the sergeant uses to train his students would effect a Jedi. Such training teaches discipline, loyalty and responsibility, all important traits that a Jedi must learn'. Eventually they would reach the end of corridor, where yet another sliding door would hiss gently open to reveal the crisp white rooms that epitomised Kamino's city.  This room had been overtaken by large glass screens and tables, all flicking through what seems to be hundreds of files, each with a CT number and a file. Around the tables in the room, round, egg like chairs were tucked away, and to one side of the room was a great glass window. This window overlooked what looked like a giant rectangular arena, currently deserted at this time of night. The clone major and Kaminoan would not follow the pair into the room. Instead they would stand outside, as if waiting patiently for something. 

Shaak Ti would gesture to one of the seats around the biggest central table as she takes her own. 'I will be honest with you Padawan, you were brought to Kamino for two reasons. The first is because, regardless of how the Jedi feel about this war and our involvement, the Republic needs leaders. Without the leadership of the Jedi against these cyborgs we have seen on the battlefield, the Republic will surely fall to the Separatists, and the Sith. She would look up from the data on the table to gaze at the Padawan. 'The Jedi may be peacekeepers first and foremost, but we must participate in this war so there will be peace to keep after it has ended. It is also believed that perhaps if the clones and their leaders were to train together, their work in the field may be more effective, saving lives and ending this war all the sooner'.

She would pause before continuing. 'The second reason is the death of your master, Anler. The council is concerned that the death of Master Wuum may have put your future in the order at risk. You have shown excellent promise as a consular under Master Wuum's tutelage, but it has been noted that you have shied away from your lightsaber training. As commendable as it is for a Jedi to become a masterful negotiator such as what Wuum was, it is vital for a Jedi to learn how to defend others through the use of a lightsaber. One skill without the other leaves a Jedi ill equipt for their role in the galaxy. The council hopes that your presence here, amongst the clones will make it possible for you to complete your training, and eventually become a Jedi Knight. 

She would rise to her feet, moving to the window to gesture out of it with one hand at the empty sight. 'When the morning comes, the Clones will begin their training, and it is the wish of the council for you to join them in this training. We would have you join a squad of Clones of your choice, where you can both learn from each other. While here, I will personally oversee your Jedi training in between training with the clones. At the end, you will join the ranks of the Jedi on the battlefield, leading the clones into battle. However, you will not lead a single squad, you will lead a battalion of your own, as Jedi Commander. She would return slowly to the table, giving the Jedi Padawan a chance to take this all on. 'I understand that this is a lot to consider Padawan, but the council believes that this would be the best for you'.

 

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Anler follows Master Shaak Ti, taking in the outlandish views in the alien city as they go. For a short while he can stop thinking about what his future has in store and just admire the architecture and artistry that has gone into the buildings. He recalls that in what little there was to read about the planet and its residents in the ship computer on the flight there was a sentence about the superb visual sense of the Kaminoans. Apparently they can see in the ultraviolet spectrum and use shades on that spectrum for their dwellings, but since human eyes can’t see those colors, the walls all look white to him. He wonders if the clones have been engineered to see in that spectrum, but guesses that would not have been a high priority for the tube-bred soldiers.

As he ponders this, he arrives with the Jedi Master in a room with a room with large screens with what he presumes is a list of clones. Anler listens patiently as the Togruta Jedi Master outlines the plans the order has for him at Kamino. So he is to train with the clones after all. He isn’t sure how he feels about that. The yelling sergeant, the military discipline and mindless obedience doesn't sound anything like his experiences at the Jedi Temple or with his former master, Umathon Wuum, a venerable Ithorian.

Although he has serious doubts about this, he also knows that it will be useless to say so at this point. Worse than useless. He decides that it will be best to go along with this plan for now, try to look enthusiastic. That way, it could be said that he has given this a fair try when it turns out this has all been a massive waste of time. At least he’ll be trained by a Jedi Master again, even if this one is quite different from his old master.

“Yes master,” he says. “I will do my best. This is the will of the Jedi Council and I will not let the order down. And I do understand the need for lightsaber training, but I also agree with my old master that using a weapon should be an act of last resort, not an opening move in any situation.” He leaves unsaid his feelings on the militarization of the Jedi Order, but he knows the Jedi Master will sense his unease.

When Shaak Ti presents him with a list of squads to train with, Anler is about to protest. After all, the list has only numbers, how can he be expected to choose a squad to train with from that? He bites his tongue though. He can almost hear his old master berating him, telling him to trust the Force. He allows the list to scroll quickly over the screen in a loop and holds his finger out in front of the screen. He closes his eyes and tries to feel the Force around him, trying to feel when the time is right to pick one of the numbers on the screen.

When he feels nothing he finally touches the screen, selecting a single number. “I guess this is the squad I’ll train with in the morning,” he says with a hopeful tone in his voice. The Force doesn’t tell him if that’s good or bad, but he fatalistically thinks it can’t matter overly much. After all, they are clones. They will all be pretty much the same. Just as long as he doesn’t get the squad of soon-to-be rejects that he passed in the hallway earlier, faking their way out of doing push-ups, he’ll be fine.

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Shaak Ti would nod slowly as the Padawan responds. Being a member of the Jedi council, Shaak Ti is an astute character, and was able to read people, even without the force. 'I understand why you may not agree young one. This will be a new experience for you, but one that will make you a better Jedi'. She would sigh slightly before continuing. 'I hope that Master Wuum's views on the Jedi's role in the galaxy will return, but for now, the Jedi must do what they have to do to protect the Republic, even take part in this war'.

As Anler makes his choice, a copy of the squad profile would show up on her side of the table. 'Hm, Cyclone squad' she would muse as an image of the squad would become enlarged, showing each squad member standing to attention in the red and blue cloth cadet uniform of the Grand Army of the Republic. 'So be it' she would say, looking up from the screen to the Padawan. At this the Kaminoan and clone Major would enter the room, Shaak Ti raising a hand to gesture to them. 'Zu Porro will show you to your quarters for your stay here'. The Kaminoan would not silently at this, turning towards the door as the clone moves towards the table. 'Good to meet you commander' he would say to the Padwan.

Meanwhile, the Sergeant leading the clones outside would pause in the doorway that lead to the outdoors, raising a hand swiftly to force the clones to a halt. Stood in the doorway was a man dressed in the same uniform as Swapar. This man had a much more toned down appearance compared the bear of a man that lead the clones. This one was clean shaven, standing a few inches under six foot with dark brown skin and a serious, almost solemn expression. He would stood with his hands held behind his back, standing to attention as the group arrives. 

Swapar would turn to face the clones, his bulk silhouetted by a crack of lighting outside the door. 'This, boys and girls, is Sergeant Kallac! He is here to help me keep you whelps in order during our little jog!' At this, he would move to hand Kallac the swagger stick he had kept tucked under his arm, It was a nasty looking item, made of black wood and capped at both ends with a shining silvery metal. 'Sergeant Kallac here will be following behind you as you run! If you fall behind, if you start to lag or get lazy, you are going to take a beating to the back of your legs as reminder that you are soldiers, and no longer babies!'

Kallac would shuffle down the lines of clones, his expression never changing as he takes his position. Turning once more, Swapar would face the violent sight that was outside. It was a truly spectacular sight to behold, even on Kamino. The walkways lights struggled to light up anything under the tremendous mass of water falling from the sky. The wind would whip the water that settled on the path in to great bouts of mist, like a living fog. 

With a wide manic grin Swapar would step towards the door, forcing it to slide open, hitting those at the front of the line with a blast of water, while coating the others with the icy cold of the outdoors. 'Let's go for a stroll ladies' the Sergeant would bellow before charging into the storm, promptly losing his hat to the inky blackness. With Kallac behind the clones, the cadets had little choice but to move forwards, into the darkness.

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None of Cyclone Squad was hit with the water as all of therm were in the back of the line. "Well boys, let's go for a swim!" CT-9182 said on their open comm. As soon as Cyclone Squad got into the rain he took off his helmet to rinse his eyes. Feeling refreshed he ran to the head of the pack passing each and every single member of Ackalay Squad, however the made sure not to pass the Sergeant although he could.

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"Remember, it's just a run in the rain, you've done this many times..." Doc mutters to himself. And it would have been another day running in the rain.

However, Doc didn't account for the fact that the rain was much harder than usual, thereby making the surface more slippery. A second later, Doc had lost his footing, slipping backwards and onto CT-3478.

Today was starting to be a rather unlucky day for Doc.

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Eager to put his poor performance behind him, CT-5472 pushes hard to maintain his position at the head of Cyclone Squad. Pushes too hard. 

Grimacing at the sudden muscle spasm in his leg, he knows he must slow his pace, or risk further injury. Press-ups to failure, are a poor substitute for proper stretching, it would seem...

"Cyclones, stick together," he voices into his com, over the drenching rain, "We're in our element." 

 

 

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"I think we're more in the elements than in our element." CT-3478 says in response to CT-5472.

"Whoa there Doc!" CT-3478 says as Doc falls onto him causing him to trip and fall, "What a way to start the day, right?" 

CT-3478 says as he gets up and helps Doc up. "Better get a move on. Don't wanna fall behind!" 

CT-3478 then sprints to catch up to the rest of the group.

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Anler looks at the image of the squad members of this Cyclone squad. They look familiar, but then, they are clones, so they would look pretty much the same as the guys doing the pushups earlier. “I will do what is required of me,” he replies to Master Ti, trying to sound more confident than he really is.

He then follows the Kaminoan to the quarters assigned to him during his stay. As he takes a look around the functional but spartan room he decides to try to get some more information out of Zu Porro. “Tell me, how long do the clones in this Cyclone squad I’m supposed to work with have left of their training? And what will the rest of the training entail? Are they a specialist squad or basic soldiers?”

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The Kaminoan would twist her elongated neck to face to face the Jedi as they walk slowly along. 'This batch of clones will be ready in a week or so, though that will depend on their skill when it comes to assessment. As for training, the administration is not responsible for that. Training of the clones has been delegated to your Jedi Master and the mercenaries selected by the Republic. They decided that the flash training that we provide was not enough on it's own'. There would be a touch of edge in the Kaminoans tone at this, she was most likely protective of her work as so many cloners were.

'As for the squad that you will be training with, I believe that they will be a part an assault battalion'. At this there would be a few soft beeps from her datapad as she taps her fingers across the surface. 'Yes' she would confirm, offering the datapad to the Padawan. 'The 712th Assault Battalion'. The datapad would show the structure of the full battalion for the Padawan to see, and it was quite a daunting sight. Almost 900 Clones would be putting their lives in the hands of this child. 'An assault battalion such as this will be responsible for assaulting enemy strongholds, as well as being the first troops in on a planetary assault and urban battles'. The Kaminoan would pause by a doorway set into the side at the corridor, looking down at the Padawan for a few moments. 'It is a large responsibility to lead such a force. You will have under your command approximately 700 of our clones, and 30 vehicles. 

With that she would turn to wave her hand in front of the door sensor, forcing it open to reveal the room. A pale light would flicker on to reveal a white room with a simplistic looking bed, round table and a couple of chairs. It certainly was no less Spartan than the rooms at the temple, it would certainly do. 'Here are your quarters that are at your disposal for your stay'. With that the Kaminoan would move back towards the door before turning to face the Padawan. 'Is there anything else you need?'

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Although the Padawan doesn’t fail to pick up the tension apparent in the Kaminoan’s posture and voice when she mentions the extra training that the Jedi Order apparently deems necessary, he chooses not to pick any further at that scab. “An assault battalion, that sounds about right,” he says, trying to sound positive. They wouldn’t use the experimental joint training of a Jedi and the Clones for a supply battalion not meant for combat, after all.

He feels sick to his stomach when the tall alien mentions casually that, assuming he passes his training and succeeds on his trials, he will be commanding a force of about 700 clones and vehicles. Surely there has to be a better way to win this war than to leave a force of 700 soldiers under the command of a newly knighted Jedi, he thinks glumly. All that assuming he even passes his trials. The knot in his stomach has not eased at all.

As the Kaminoan moves towards the door, Anler merely smiles. “No, I don’t need anything further. I expect I will be summoned when the time comes for me to join the clones. Until then I’ll rest here and meditate on the future.”

When he’s alone in the room he takes off his robe and puts his meager belongings into a single shelf in the small closet provided. As he’s feeling quite rested after his trip, he simply sits down on the thin mat in the center of the room and tries to meditate. It takes a while until he can clear his thoughts enough to fully focus on the Living Force, the way his master taught him. Every day, the memories of his lessons grow fainter.

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"Don't trip. Don't trip. Don't trip." Ran repeatedly through 7777's mind stressing him out to the extreme. "At least we won't need to hit the showers to clear out the gas, this rain is helping us multitask." He joked, "Maybe the drill sarge will be happy with us for once, in his long, long life." Personally, 7777 highly doubted it.

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The rain would continue to batter the cadets with a primal fury rarely seen off world. Despite this the sergeant did not let up, even for a moment. With the steady thump of grey walkway of the dome, he took a sharp turn out towards one of the bridges that extended far into the inky blackness. He seemed to be leading them towards a second dome. Though the clones had never been there before they would know it was home of another regiment of cadets. 

'Keep up the pace boys! I know it's tough but if you mess up and fall here, you'll be under that water before anyone can get to you!' It would have been difficult to hear the sergeant if he was a regular individual, most voices being torn away by the wind. However it was clearly heard, even by those cadets at the back.

As if on queue however there would be a muffled thump and the shout of 'heads up!' echoed by cadets down the group. One of the cadets must have tripped and had fallen hard in the centre of the bridge. As he rolled slightly from the fall his squad would not be able to stop to help for the risk of being trampled. The others would do what they can to doge and leap over the fallen brother as they do what they can to avoid falling as well. 

Any cadet that took notice of the fallen brother would recognize the deep red patch of easy squad, and the cadet as Frogger. Frogger was well known amongst the cadets for having excellent coordination when it came to vehicles, but nothing else. Despite this, his unbreakable optimism made him a popular asset to the cadets. 

Meanwhile, outside of Padawan's door the faint muffling of movement could be heard. Most likely other cadets beginning to stir. It still may be painfully early, but for the military, early was the time things got done. The noise wouldn't be enough to disturb the meditation though, leaving the Jedi in peace, for now at least.

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Running in the rain sure is fun, CT-3478 says to himself. 

He continues running on the wet ramps keeping up with the group and watching out for Doc. Just then a particularly angry gust of wind a rain forces its way up into CT-3478's Helmet. Now he really can't see and taking it off to clear it would only make it worse in addition to pissing off Sergeant Sunshine and his friend, Black Grim.

"Blast! I've got water in my helmet," CT-3478 says over the closed squad channel, "It's even harder to see now. "Hey Doc, watch out for me would ya?"

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"Yeah, 3748, I'll-" Doc says on the closed squad channel before he notices another trooper fall down hard in the center of the bridge. Even in the darkness, he noticed the deep red patch Easy Squad wore. And if anyone from Easy was falling down in the center of the bridge, it had to be Frogger.

Doc knew Frogger from when he was switched to piloting training for a bit: the guy had a talent for being absolutely brilliant in both optimism and the controls of just about any vehicle in the Republic's arsenal. However, Doc knew that outside of the cockpit, he was likely to fall over himself more than was thought to be possible.

In this weather, Frogger was likely to slip off the bridge. If not that, then the other cadets that were avoiding him were at risk of tripping, too. Something had to be done.

"3748, just keep following the rest of the squad as best as you can. Just need to do something possibly dumb and stupid."

Noticing a break in the flow, Doc sprinted ahead, managing to time his steps so that he could use the momentum to get to the right place.

"Yo, buddy. Still alive?" Doc said to Frogger. That was their little code for figuring out in starfighter training simulations who was considered alive between the both of them.

"Doc?" Frogger said, a bit dazed as Doc pulled him up and helped him get his footing. "You could have slipped, too."

"Unlike you, I do have some experience on the ground." Doc joked. "But you know what they say when we're flying in pairs?"

"Never leave a wingman behind." Frogger responded happily.

"Exactly."

With that save, Doc and Frogger got back into the pack.

 

 

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I'm in my element, alright... CT-5472 finds himself lagging behind, being readily passed by most of his comrades. "If I don't shape-up fast, I am going to wash out of training." Literally, perhaps... 

Trying to shed the water from his helmet with a shake, he catches Kallac in his peripheral, and instinctively skips a step to avoid him. Overextended, the drill sergeant curses, and... 

Frak! That's one blow I probably would have been better off just taking..

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9182 lost the lead he had on Acklay Squad, the deck slippery from constantly being in the rain. "Whoa there!" He exclaimed almost tripping over himself. 9182 almost swore he could see Law smiling at his slipping in the rain.

Listening to the radio chatter in his helmet 9182 decided that with his loss of the lead it was best to rejoin his squad and maybe help his brothers out.

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Anler sits quietly on the mat in the middle of the small room assigned to him, trying to free his mind and feel the Force flowing through the Galaxy. He tries not to think about why he's here, how the training with the clones will go, and if he'll ever be responsible for the lives of several hundred clone soldiers. Tries, and fails. The commotion outside his door isn't helping, as cadets assigned quarters near him wake up and head out for training, breakfast or whatever they do around here.

Annoyed at his failure, the Padawan stands. His hand reaches for his lightsaber and he flicks the weapon on. The soft hum and the blue glow from the blade have a somewhat comforting effect on him and he spends half an hour practicing different katas taught to him by his master. It's not as good as sparring with a partner, but it will do for now. He works up a bit of sweat as he performs the exercises he has performed numerous times before, but as he puts his lightsaber away and gets a glass of water he wonders if perhaps his new master might have a remote for him to train with. If he is to be thrown into training with clones with blasters, practicing deflecting incoming fire seems prudent.

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8128 easily keeps up with the clones around him. "This isn't too bad, actually" he thinks. Moments later he notices water seeping under his armour soaking his clothes. "I hate this weather, why do we have to train like this, we are an assault battalion not SCUBA troopers."

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"Because the seppies want to build a weapon to make it rain. Or because Sargie over there likes to watch us suffer. Your choice, 8128 you wanna go SCUBA?" 7777 joked easily keeping stride with the rest of the troops. You guys anna try and push past Acklay? They got enough limbs to trip each other up."

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The humming of the blue blade would be exposed to the corridor as the door to the room hisses open. Framed in the doorway was the major, helmet grinning from where it was tucked under his arm. 'Good morning commander' he would say, a touch of humour in his voice. None of them had slept since their last meeting, but it was officially morning now. Most of the other clones were awake, and could be seen moving back and forth behind the major as they head to breakfast and training, 'Sorry to disturb you commander, but the general decided it's time for you to meet the troops properly'. He would step to one side, gesturing for him to move leave the room.

He would go to lead the Jedi down the now bustling corridor, shouldering his way through the growing crowd. The small individual would get a fair amount of odd looks. Sure they'd seen at least one Jedi before, but never one so young, or short. Eventually, the major would lead him towards a large glass sliding door, and a short way outside one of the pale white pods the Kaminoans used as transport. The major would move to take a couple of dark brown ponchos from a small container on the side of the wall. He would pass the Padawan one before yanking the other over his armour in an attempt to stay somewhat dry in the rain. 

He would make a short dash for the pod, pushing a panel open the door before hopping up the steps to the dry cockpit. When they were both settled, he would tap away at a handful of controls, making the transport rise slowly into the sky. It wouldn't take long to turn it around, and with a faint purple they would set of, heading towards the other dome. A flash of lightning would briefly illuminate a small column of men heading towards the dome along the thin walkway. They weren't the only one though, there were other groups running through the storm, all heading for the dome. The major would peer out the window for a moment before turning to the Jedi. 'Take a good look commander, those down there are you men'. The sheer number of clones down there was an impressive sight to behold. 

They would land before the clones made their arrival, and there would be a new clone waiting for them. This one was dressed in similar armour to th Major, both having the same black trim. The difference was this newcomers helmet had been painted all black, with a thin white band reaching from his chin, over the top of the helm and ending at the base of his neck.

As the pod opened up and the pair disembarked the clone would snap to attention, saluting the pair as they approach. He was sheltered beneath the doorway to keep out of the torrential rain. 'Commander, this is CT-7771, Major Drummer. He's in command of the 404th battalion. He'll be commanding troops in the same regiment as you.' At the introduction Drummer would dip his head respectfully, though he wouldn't remove his helm. 'Commander' he would say in a gruff voice. 

Zombie would turn, squinting into the rain, pulling his helmet back on to help him see. 'Ah, here they come now, your boys commander'. He was right, being led by the bullish sergeant, the column Cyclone Squad was a part of was going to arrive first, but not by much. The others were coming along the other bridges, hurrying to get out of the rain. 

Swapar would half turn, bellowing into the wind at the sodden clones behind him. 'Pick up the pace boys! If we aren't the first lot to that dome, you're better off jumping into that ocean, because I'll do worse to you if we're second!' With that he would break into a thunderous pace, leading the clones towards the dim light of the upcoming building. 

As 9182 trips himself, the sound of laughter from a couple of members of Acklay squad at the sight. He'd feel a light clip around the head as he falls back, and would know exactly who had slapped him by the comment that followed it. 'Watch yourself, just because you shoot like a blind man doesn't mean you have to run like one! It'd be a shame to see you land on your face!' That had to be Songbird.

Law may be no fun off the battlefield, but at least he was professional. Songbird was Acklay's sharpshooter, and probably had the biggest mouth in the whole battalion. He never knew when to leave well enough alone in an argument, and had an unrivalled talent of pressing peoples buttons.  9182 had become a particular favourite target of his for their different styles of combat. 'If you can't kill it with one shot, you're just not good enough' was his go to phrase any time 9182 picked up the rotary cannon.  

Kallac's beady eyes would have watched those clones at the back of a pack like a hawk. A few of the cadets legs would be met with sharp thwacks, followed by yelps of pain as they quickened their pace. As Doc stoops the help Frogger, he would feel a sharp stinging sensation behind his knees as the swagger stick connected with him. 'Back in the group you two' he'd shout before roughly pushing them forwards. Frogger would grin at Doc as he slaps him ont he shoulder, pushing him ahead back towards Cyclone squad. 'See you at the finish line Doc!' 

Next his attention would turn to 5472 who had fallen behind. The dodge from him was not expected. There would be the swish of the stick followed by the crunch of the sergeant going head over heals. 'Little swine' he'd curse as he scrambles to his feet, sprinting after the clone. 'You're going to regret that he'd grow in the clones ear before shoving him back in line. 'The last man in the line I'm going to wear like a slipper!'

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Anler has just resumed his solo lightsaber training when the door hisses open without so much as a knock or a buzzer sounding first. The Padawan ends his kata with his lightsaber blade extended towards the Major, who stands in his doorway, holding the stance for a second before switching off his weapon and attaching it to his belt.

“You are not disturbing me, Major. I’ve been waiting for you,” the young commander replies. He takes another sip of water and returns the glass to the tray next to the water fountain. He the picks up his robes and puts them on, before following the armored clone Major out.

He is acutely aware of the fact that even if he’s older than most of the clones present at seventeen years of age, he is almost a head shorter than they are. He can feel the lingering gaze of several troopers as he passes them in the hallways. It’s almost as if he’s being judged. Not for the first time he wishes he was a bit taller and broader, that would probably make things easier when trying to fit in with genetically enhanced clone soldiers.

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'Take a good look commander, those down there are you men,' the Major says.

Anler looks at the men running in the rain as the pod flies over them. “They are impressive,” he replies diplomatically to the Major. “And from what I hear they are fine soldiers indeed,” he says. “At least their brothers that are already in service,” he clarifies.

As they land and meet Major Drummer, Anler nods respectfully. “Good to meet you, Major,” he says as the other man is introduced. The young Padawan then stands patiently as the clones enter the building, soaking wet from the rain. He watches with interest as the squad he chose at random assembles. Cyclone Squad, he thinks to himself. Name sounds promising.

“I see Cyclone Squad is the first to arrive, they must be a promising squad,” he says with a smile. The clones are all wearing helmets when they arrive, but Anler isn’t sure that matters much, since all the clones look the same, or as good as the same.

Edited by Kymrel

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The hit to the back of the knees must have been harder than Doc thought, because now he was hobbling way behind the pack.

At the very least, though, Frogger was well off. And that brought a sense of relief.

Edited by satkaz

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