Love and Hate

Chapter 1: Run

I once saw a holo-recording of Jedi Master Arligan Zey saying something along the lines of, "If clones didn't have free will, they wouldn't be able to respond the right way to unimaginable situations." Ha! Bullshit! You know as well as I do that no one needs free will to respond to, quote unquote, "unimaginable situations". That's just not how it works.

-Agent Inessa Skirata to fellow Black Widow assassin, Agent Karina Vau

Geonosis; thirty standard hours after the Battle of Geonosis, one and a half standard years after the Fall of the Red Room (yes, it's a thing in this story :>)

(RC-3222) Atin's P.O.V.

Waiting in line for a gunship wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't for the Duros loadmaster shouting out orders to everyone like he's some kind of commanding officer. Only Jedi are officers. He tried to force me onto a gunship, but quickly realized his mistake after I threatened to stick my vibroblade down his throat.

As much as I know there's nothing I can do to bring them back–just like the first time I lost my squad, back in training–I just can't bring myself to leave. Not yet. But as much as I don't want to admit it, I know they're dead; I saw their bodies being blasted apart by Geonosians and battle droids.

I know it's my fault. There must have been something I could've done to prevent their deaths, but I'm not sure what that would've been. If only I had been better, like Sergeant Vau always told us to be. Battle may not be perfect, he always told us in training. But you need to make it as damn close to it as you can get. What I teach you now, it's going to be the reason you survive later on.

But I didn't make it as close to perfect as I could. I didn't follow Sergeant Vau's training. And it got my brothers killed. Again.

It's my fault. Again.

They're gone. Again.

And I'm alone. Again.

Another gunship is coming in for a landing, and I almost sprint to board it as soon as it touches down. I think we're on the way to Ord Mantell, but I'm not exactly sure. Honestly, at this point, I can't bring myself to care.

I keep my helmet on throughout the trip, not wanting the other clones to see my lost, pained expression.

The only thing I want is to go back. Go back before my squad–my brothers–were blown to bits in front of me. I could've done something different. Like...like...like...

Well, I'm sure there's something I could've done. There must be something...

Right?

Imbraani, Qiilura

Morgana Blitz's P.O.V.

   Run. Run. Run!

I've already run so much, my lung's burning and my legs are beginning to feel like jelly. But a voice in my head, one that sounds distinctly like my old master's keeps telling me, Don't you dare stop. If you stop now, it will be the end of you. And if it isn't, you'll wish it was.

So I keep running. I keep running until I stumble over my own feet, falling face-first into something that smells so bad I have to stop myself from gagging. I know the Weequay chasing me can't possibly hear me above the wind, but I hold my breath, anyway. It gives me some needed reassurance. Plus, it blocks out the smell.