𝘚𝘈𝘓𝘜𝘛𝘌→𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩

sweet perfume.

IN HER NEW found, almost normal, fashion; Alora Nero did not listen. She found herself sneaking around, listening in on the assembly taking place in the staging area. All clones were in attendance, so there was no way anyone would have found her. She concealed herself in a corner, as she scanned the crowd. She couldn't find her clones, even though naturally they stick out, there were just too many men to sort through. She leaned back further into the corner now, her eyes trailing up to the projection before them. Chancellor Palpatine. Alora had only met this man once before, when she was very young. He didn't know her name nor care to ask for it. He seemed different. A feeling was beating her chest so hard, it was hard for her to focus. When Alora had settled down enough and really listened to what the man was saying, she soon realized, that something terrible was taking place.

The Jedi were being painted as traitors. According to Palpatine, they had tried to overthrow him and his government. They attacked him, which Alora found hard to believe. Desperate measures were being taken to contain the Jedi. Even Alora, working through her own opinions on the corruption of the Jedi order, knew that none of what the man was saying added up.

"The remaining Jedi will be hunted down, and defeated!"

Alora suddenly felt a wave of fear envelop her. She thought back to Depa Billaba. She remembered how one moment, nothing was out of the ordinary. Then, suddenly, due to an Order 66, the clones shot her down. What had she done, what had Caleb done? They were not doing anything wrong.

"The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed. But I assure you, my resolve has never been stronger! The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled!"

The chancellor's appearance was horrendous in itself, but his words were taking Alora over in fear. Her body felt cold. Her knees were shaking so hard she felt that at any moment, she would collapse. She had never felt so much fear, or so much uncertainty, in her entire life.

"We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability.."

Oh, great. Alora thought.

"The Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire!" Palpatine's voice was booming. After every word, Alora felt surges of something terrible. This man was not whom she grew up believing he was. She knew that now. But she feared this realization was too late; as it was for everyone else.

The clones all began to cheer. They were ecstatic, even. This made it easier to pick her clones out of the crowd, as they were the only group not happy. They were stunned, just as stunned as she was. Even Crosshair seemed to be in a state of shock.

Tech was right. Alora thought. They must have some sort of programming in them to react this way. Was this planned all along? Why?

Alora had to take a deep breath to quiet her mind, once again. How badly she wanted to slip away into the darkness and to keep going until her sights were filled of the colorful and cheerful days of her youth. Her youth before the Jedi Order. Alora Nero's days on the planet of Alderaan. She hardly even remembers that now. A mother's embrace, how she longed for that. Is my mother alright? The next best thing would be to see her master, Lo'ree. What would Master Lo'ree think of this? Would the clones have attempted to kill her as well?

There her mind went to wondering once again.

When Alora realized where she was, she noticed that half of the clones were out of the room by then. Including the Bad Batch. Dank Farrik. Alora knew Hunter wouldn't be too pleased with her leaving the barracks. She casually slipped away, walking down the long, narrow halls. She never felt fully at home in that place, and she knew she always stood out. But now, it felt worse. She was given looks of distain; hatred, even. The clones around her weren't quite sure what to make of her. All they knew, is that she was a part of the Jedi Order, the most treasonous group of all.

Alora felt a sense of relief when she spotted the back of the Bad Batch's heads. Wrecker's, of course, is what she saw first. She managed to get as close to them as possible without going noticed. For a few moments, at least.

"Boys, someone didn't follow orders." The men all turned around simultaneously. Hunter cocked a brow, placing his hand on his hip. "Alora. If your loud footsteps didn't give it away to me, your perfume did." He smirked.

Of course. She wasn't seen, but of course, Hunter smelled her perfume. They were all so fond of it, and that's why she wore it almost every day. The green bottle she acquired at a shop on a simple mission. That was a good day.

"I'm sorry. I had to know what was going on." Alora said, hanging her head in embarrassment.

"You had to know? Or you wanted to see if anyone was onto you?" Crosshair sneered, pushing himself forward to be closer to the girl. "Last I checked, people like you, with those laser swords, are traitors."

There it is. "Crosshair! Enough." Hunter stepped in front of the grey haired clone, cutting off Crosshair's death stare pointed towards the girl.

Alora stammered incoherently. "I-I. Crosshair-" She wanted to cry. Sob, even. So much had built up in her; so much confusion, betrayal, and heartache. The clone she had worked so hard to have a connection with, whom she has came to care so deeply for, all of a sudden treats her as a treasonous stranger. Or, which is becoming less and less frequent, he will realize what he's doing and stop himself. Because he loves her.

The girl's eyes became glassy. Hot, salty, tears trailed her cheeks that were hot and reddened by embarrassment. The men were taken aback by the sudden outburst, as she ran the rest of the way to the clones' barracks. Audibly crying.

Alora thought back to the bottle of perfume again. Crosshair is who told her he liked it first. Not Hunter, who could smell it on her miles away. Crosshair was close to her, paying attention to every detail about her. The way the sweet scent filled his nostrils as she walked by him, with that beautiful smile on her face. He loved it.
And now, part of his mind thinks she should be punished for something she's not even a part of. Something that isn't true. Something that, regardless, shouldn't be the cause of any Jedi's death. Crosshair's mind was hurting him worse than any of the others could possibly imagine. He was at a war with trying to remain the man he's become, and not to succumb to this part of him that is set on destruction.