"Now, let's get a move on. We've got a battle to win here."

"Yes, sir."

Commander Cody watched as General Kenobi rode off on his large lizard, his recently re-aquired lightsaber once again at his side. Replacing his helmit, the clone turned, ready to give additional orders to the troops.

His holocrom signaled. He had a communication coming in. Flipping it open, he saw the small illumination of their leader standing before him.

"Commander Cody, the time has come. Execute Order 66."

The world stopped for a moment, and Cody, from behind his helmit, closed his eyes. Order 66. No one had ever told them that order, nor explained to them what it meant. But they all knew. It had been hard-wired into their brains when they were created. The order to destroy the jedi.

It had caused nightmares. Most all of the clones suffered from them, the result of genetic tampering. Vivid dreams of betrayal, of Order 66, of destroying the very people they were created to protect. Windu, Skywalker, Kenobi.

Cody's mind went to Kenobi. His general, and his friend. The man he had seen charge headlong at the enemy, escaping with narry a scratch, whose bravery in the field was unrivaled by any he had worked under. The man who he had sat with in the bar between missions, who had joked with him, clapped him on the back and laughed. How could he follow an order to kill his friend?

But he never had a choice. It had been genetically removed, long ago. Any and all emotions, feelings of loyalty and friendship, were minimal and secondary to following orders to the letter.

"Yes, my lord."

He closed the intercom, turning to the gunny manning the large ion cannon. His men surrounded him, all having heard the order, all waiting for his command. They didn't want to do this any more than he did, he knew. He was their commander, and they would wait to see whether or not he would follow the order.

But there was never any other option.

"Blast him."


The battle was over. The enemy was gone. His enemy, his friend. Cody had watched as the man he had grown to respect more than almost any other plunged from the face of the rock cliff. Not even a master jedi could have survived that fall. It was over.

Cody sat in his barraks, having skipped the meal. He wasn't hungry. Already the memories he had of General Kenobi were fading. Soon they would be gone altogether, replaced by more relevent information and strategies.

Quietly, he pulled out an old-style picture from the lining of his boot. It was of him and the general, sitting at a bar, smiling. It was just after a battle they had on Dantooine. Or was it Manaan? Already he didn't know. Without a word, he replaced the picture and closed his eyes. The image of Kenobi faded, little by little, until it was gone completely.

Commander Cody opened his eyes and stood, taking note of the time. The meal was only half over, and if he rushed he could still make it. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he had come into the barraks again. He was starving.