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Public Memories of the past (open to Jedi)


20 BBY
Republic Venator: Stalwart in route to Toydaria

"So much for a new and secret route!" The voice cut over the sound of warning alarms, blaster fire and marching droids. Dutch glanced in the direction of Ace as he yelled to him. "They said it was new, not secret. So we don't know who all knows about it." His Z-6 rotary cannon spun up as he leaned around the corner. Blue blaster bolts rained down on the droids marching up the hallway. They fell one by one until Dutch had to take cover from incoming fire. The Stalwart was supposed to take a newly discovered route to Toydaria, well...a newly learned smugglers route was to be more precise. The fact that their vessel dropped out of hyperspace almost directly on top of a Separatist fleet was a bit unfortunate. "They don't know when to quit, do they?" "No, no they don't." Both troopers knew that the droids weren't programmed for such a thing. But man, were they pilling up in the hallway.

They were running out of space as the droids came closer. No matter how many they gunned down, they just kept coming. His rotary cannon spun up again as he started to lean around the corner. Then he heard hit, a resounding boom followed by a buckling sound, a split sound later a shockwave hit him that was like being struck by a rancor. Dutch was thrown off his feet, alarms blared, lights went out, and silence filled the world. Dutch's eyes flickered open to a world lit by red emergency lights and very little sound. His head rang and everything sounded distant. A shaky hand braced the wall as he pushed himself to his knees. All around him was semi darkness, the only light was from red emergency lights, even the flashlights in his helmet ceased working. His gaze landed on the battle droids, every last one was frozen in place as if someone hit the off switch on all of them. "What..was that?" Ace's voice was soft, but sounded loud against the absolute silence of the hallway. "I..do not know, but I'm going to find out."

One week later

A week. That's how long it took them to get back on course. Four days of repairs to fix ...whatever the nebula they drifted into had done to the vessel. Then three days of getting the Stalwart back on course against the strange energy storms the nebula kept putting out. During it all, the Separatist battle cruiser drifted silently beside them, with little signs of recovery. Whatever the nebula did to the Stalwart, it did to them as well. The Admiral had made a split decision to cut across a short section of the large blue dust cloud to escape the Separatist fleet. The second they entered the nebula was when they were hit by a large surge of energy that knocked out all power to the vessel, and temporarily disabled the droids in the process. A maneuver that cost them quite a bit of time, but likely saved their lives. Now, as they left the blue nebula behind, Dutch stood on the bridge of the Stalwart waiting for the jump to Toydaria. Hopefully they would be their in time reinforce the Republic garrison on the planet and not flying straight in a Separatist fleet...again.

The swirling blue of hyperspace was much calmer then the different shades of blue dust from the nebula. This was at least something familiar, and not the reminder of what could have happened. A moment to relax and take a breath....those thoughts were interrupted by warning alarms from the bridge. Dutch tensed as he began to wonder if they were about to run into more Separatist as the flight officer stated that there was a large object in front of them. His fears of enemy battle ships were replaced by the surprise of what he saw when the vessel dropped out of hyperspace. There, taking up most of the view port, was Toydaria. Which didn't make sense, they shouldn't have reached it by now or be this close. The Stalwart shuddered under the gravitational pull of the planet. Her engines went into overdrive as they fought to keep her under control. Reverse thrusters slowed the vessel to a safe speed right before they hit atmosphere. Fire rolled up the hull of the ship and covered the view port as they broke atmo. Dutch held onto a chair as the Stalwart rattled under the strain. Finally, she slowed and leveled, alarms ceased and the large destroyer began a safer decent. Breathing a sigh of relief, Dutch tried to relax for the rest of the ride down.

Within the hour, the Stalwart was dirt side and beginning to unload her cargo of several thousand troopers, several dozen walkers and other armored vehicles. They had landed well off course and couldn't reach anyone at the garrison. Dutch didn't like this, they were effectively blind at the moment with a star destroyer that was in no shape for flight and no radio contact with any allies on the planet. Marching straight to the garrison wasn't a good idea without knowing what they were marching towards, and leaving the Stalwart behind in its current shape also wasn't a good idea. Just as he began to wonder if things could get any worse, they did. In the distance, making a slow decent towards the planet, was the same Separatist battle cruiser they fought before ending up in the nebula. From the looks of things, it was in the same shape as the Stalwart. Regardless it was a dangerous threat, well what it was carrying was anyway. "Just not our week, is it" "No, no it's not." The clones around him went from unloading equipment to readying defenses. They were going to have company soon, and what type of host would they be if they weren't prepared for them.
Jedi Troublemaker
Dutch Dutch

Phalsi had been going over the schematics of her ship mid transit, the navi computer and astromech droid pulling the load of flying when she had finally looked up at the blaring alarm of her droid. A frown crossed her face before quickly changing to confusion at the site of a pair of relic's descending to the planet below.

"Change course. I think...I think something is very wrong here..." The young Jedi ordered the droid, setting aside her personal device and preparing to take manual control.

The b-wing did not open it's foils, pilot unsure of what exactly was going on down below. Had someone ordered a war game?

The droid ship was avoided save for a skimming flight over the top to see below as Phalsi brought her ship close to the clone vessel. Her peering over the edge of the cockpit have her a good sight of armored troops moving in what looked like fighting formation. But for what?

The b-wing landed behind the vessel, away from the other vessel and the young woman held the cockpit closed for a moment considering what she had seen. Droids on one end, and what looked like, clone troopers on the other. Someone either had gone through a lot of trouble to organize this all. Or she was going to have to have a full medical check up when she returned home.

Opening the hatch, she climbed out, using the force to cushion her fall and landing silently on the ground. Her training robes splayed around her, the green grey cloak atop them also fanning out as she stood and awkwardly looked for someone in charge.


The troopers worked quickly to set up a makeshift wall out of damaged containers and other scrap they could pull from the ship. Thet built their barricade directly under the Stalwart to protect them from above, and high enough for walkers to park behind it so only their cannons were visible. This wasn't exactly a great place to defend, but rarely did they ever get to make that choice. Dutch was unsure how much time they had or how big the enemy force was, but they were making pretty good headway with their defenses so far. Honestly he wished the turbo lasers on the Stalwart were still functioning, but that wasn't an option since the nebula.

The sound of a ship passing over caught his attention. His gaze turned upward to see a model of ship he didn't recognize. This caused him to tense, even as said ship landed behind the Stalwart. Dutch and a few others hurried over to where the vessel had landed. They arrived just in time to see the pilot leap from the cockpit and land gracefully, a jump that would have been difficult for an average person. He had seen a few people do such a thing before, and judging from her dress, he had a good guess of what she was. What pushed all doubt away was the sight of the lightsabers she carried. She was a Jedi, Dutch was sure of it. He couldn't help but breath a silent sigh at what could be their change in luck for the better. Dutch approach the woman and gave her a salute. "Mam, I'm Commander Dutch of the 308th assault corps. We're here to reinforce the garrison on Toydaria." He hesitated for a moment, almost embarrassed about how late they were. "My apologize for being so late. We were...delayed during our journey and couldn't contact anyone."

Phalsi Drynchen Phalsi Drynchen


ARC Trooper

An odd anomalous reading had occurred on Catharian Sensors. Similar to the one Spades had experienced during his odd travel from the beginning of the Clone Wars to 858 ABY. Taking it upon himself to investigate this Clone Wars era signal. Perhaps he wasn't the last Clone anymore. After a short preparation of pre-flight checks and a small meal. Spade's disembarked Cathay in his early war Scout ARC-170. A early model of ARC-170 designed for long-range Recon.

After a short term Hyperspace Jump from Cathay to Troydaria, Spades dropped out of it directly in-front of the gleaming Green World of Troydaria. Just as he remembered during the start of the Clone Wars. A home to a peaceful people, shaken up by a massive interstellar conflict which had its King murdered. All that he knew, following the end of the Clone Wars was that it dropped into Chaos and was swallowed up by the fledgling Galactic Empire. Spades angled his ARC-170 to break atmosphere directly on trajectory to where the anomaly first started.

On the ground, Republic technicians aboard the Venator Class Star Destroyer would notice a extremely outdated IFF Signature emitting from the ARC-170's Blackbox. One from the very start of the Clone Wars. A long since broken encryption. If anyone noticed or even cared. Meanwhile, Spade's two-seater Fighter descended into atmosphere, breaking cloud cover directly above the Venator. Spade's eyeballed the Republic Sigil on the side with nostalgic intent. A single tear welled up in his eye as he descended. However, the relative silence of the cockpit was broken by a transmission from the Star-Destroyer's Air Traffic Control Tower.

"Unidentified Vessel, You are in Republic Airspace. Identify yourself."

Spade's looked at the Republic Sigil which hovered infront of him on the Ship's Dashboard. He'd hesitantly reach toward the button to answer. Pressing it to transmit. He took a few seconds to gather up his thoughts.

"This is ARC Trooper Sergeant Major, 0787. Mynock Battalion, 102nd Legion. I have a message for the Officer in Command. Transmitting security codes now..."

Onboard the Venator, the screens inside of the Air Traffic Control tower would cut to an image of Spade's battered and sunken in features. The man had to deal with the stress of possibly being the only Clone Alive for who knows how long. This clearly has taken a toll on the ARC Trooper's Mental State. His hair was unkempt, and his face was unshaven with a week-old stubble. All that looked the part was his Armor. A faded dark-red with scratches. Another anomaly to those in the tower would be that the ARC Trooper would be marked as "MIA" in their databases. Lost in the battle of Sarrish. The security codes would also be ones used years before the end of the Clone Wars. Right near the very start of it. Was this too good to be true?

Spade's ship slowly descended, as a clearance code was given to him. Clearing him for landing in the #2 Landing Platform, directly adjacent from Dutch Dutch 's position. It landed quickly, and with a short metallic thump as its bare metal landing gears connected with a bare durasteel platform. Meanwhile, the cockpit opened and a disheveled and beaten down ARC Trooper descended from it. His Phase 1 Helmet held tightly within his hands. He'd turn around, gazing at his Brothers and Non-Clone Personnel. He hated what he had to do next, yet he had to tell the truth. Inside, Spades was happy to see his Brothers Again, even though they weren't the men of Mynock Battalion, they were the closest thing to it he ever had again. He'd walk straight toward Dutch and Phalsi Drynchen Phalsi Drynchen as he approached, if he was noticed. Spades had these sad eyes which seemed to be a far cry to whichever the Clones were taught. Sure, Cathay had Fett Clones too. But they weren't... family.

Spade's stepped forward. He didn't salute, but instead he piped up after Phalsi was finished speaking.

"Sir. I have a urgent message for you, for all of you."

Spade's eyes flicked from Dutch to the other Clones next to him. His voice, and eyes were dead serious when he said he needed to have a word right now. The words that he would have to speak next would likely be the hardest for him to say. Words that no Clone should speak, but had to.
The Flame Major
Wargames they were not, but Caelag and her troops did happen to be planetside on Toydaria. Though the planet was not her preferred stomping ground, she had to keep her unit quite in shape to combat their foes in any kind of terrain. Swamps might not be hard to get your mind around, but the experience would be new to more than a few new recruits to the airborne division. So she had the 113th more or less running an entire marathon through the difficult terrain, alongside her herself of course at the head of the pack. If they could handle such long exertion like this they could certainly handle combat here after all what with the mud sloshing around.

The day's training was destined to be interrupted, however, as the troops caught sight of two massive, old ships making their way down from space, quickly alerting their blind leader, though she sensed the lifeforms on one of the two soon enough after. They quickly gathered together, Vass and her officers quickly discussing the situation. There was no reason for these ships to be here, they had no war games scheduled, and most of the others agreed with herself and Captain Atlan. That was to say, that they needed to investigate, and quickly. The troops gathered their gear, and made their way to meet whoever had come in the closer of the ships, that being the old clone ship.

Only a hundred or so strong, it was one of those rare occasions the entirety of the 113th was in a single place. Having taken significant losses in recent missions meant those remaining had to strengthen significantly to pick up the slack. The collective would be better for it, but their numbers still paled compared to their full army. And it certainly paled before what they saw in viewfinders. That was, more than a few troops, and more than a few heavy pieces of artillery.

Caelag could sense Phalsi Drynchen Phalsi Drynchen in the Force, and the group of troopers weren't attacking her. That boded well, especially as they picked up a friendly IFF signature from her craft. She was willing to bet that, for the time being, these troops were at least more than likely on their side. She devised a quick plan with her troops, something to prepare for a worst case scenario. Most of the troops would spread out, teams of no more than ten, and prepare to make quick strikes at every concievable angle. Even a thousand troopers couldn't protect every angle, one group would have to get an opening. Caelag meanwhile, alongside Atlan and three of her more elite members would make contact, to determine the risk.

Atlan and the others readied their rifles, and Caelag's group made their approach. They would come up from behind where Phalsi had been, four Katarn wearing rangers with rifles, and Caelag holding her sidearm at the ready, if down by her side. Sword and lightsaber jangled on her hip, as she moved up by the Jedi, watching yet another stranger wearing remarkably similar armor ( 'Spades' 'Spades' ) to everyone present made their own approach. She didn't know who Dutch Dutch was, barely catching anything that he said, and it was only clear to her that they weren't theirs. "You don't happen to have a single idea what he's saying do you?" She asked the Jedi, though her helmet never faced away from Dutch.

If the Gand wearing his findsman cloak over his armor hadn't given away that the katarn wearing troops might not be all clones, surely the female voice would.
Jedi Troublemaker
She didn't have to wait long as she was approached by armored troops. One quickly identified as A commander of an assault corps. And to top it off, here to reinforce a garrison? She blinked, pondering on a response as they apologized for their tardiness. For being late. She blinked again, gear's in her head visibly turning as she tried to think of some response to the situation she had found herself in. So much for a quick check on things. "Late. Right. When uh..." She began, turning to watch the vessel come in behind her. Watching the vessel, she leaned towards Dutch Dutch and spoke with narrowed eyes as another in similar armor appeared. "When where you slated to arrive?"

Who was organizing this whole event? She was really beginning to question her sanity when the new armored arrival spoke of needing to tell all of them a message. An brow rose in curiosity, wondering almost aloud if someone had missed a jump coordinate somewhere to have landed here. Another appeared, though this one seeming far more anchored in the modern times. Phalsi blew out a held breath, sensing the force within the armor that housed the female voice.

"Well..." Phalsi rubbed her neck and cast a look across the whole scene. It all seemed relatively insane in her opinion, but two credit stories had crazier, or maybe sillier premises. "Either someone is doing a reenactment without letting, oh I don't know, the rest of the planet knowing. Or, and please feel free to correct me if I am wrong, clones. Old ones. But, from where? Then again, if they've been sleeping....when?"

Caelag Vass Caelag Vass Dutch Dutch 'Spades' 'Spades'


Dutch scarcely paid attention to the incoming ARC-170. He had seen them a thousand times, but he wasn't sure who authorized a patrol with them. Probably something he'd have to look into later. His attention was on the Jedi in front of him, one who seemed slightly unsure of the situation. He was about to ask what was wrong, until she asked when they were supposed to arrive. "We were scheduled to arrive one week ago, thirty six thousand four hundred and thirty three after the Thor Yol arrival. That order was given directly after the battle of Umbara."

He didn't get much of a chance to explain more when his gazed landed on the pilot of the ARC. The man was definitely a clone, but a very disheveled and tired looking one. Dutch didn't recognize any trooper like that in the 308th. Was he part of the garrison on the planet. Before Dutch could ask who he was, the man spoke, claiming that he had a message that they all should hear. Something about the look in the mans eyes seemed off to Dutch, this clone had seen something that shook him to the core. The Jedi was almost forgotten as his eyes locked with the other clones. "A message? From whom?"

Dutch's gaze on the other clone was only broken by the arrival of several more soldiers. They weren't part of the 308th, but they wore katarn armor. The armor itself held subtle differences that the commander could easily pick out. What was most noticeable was that some of the beings didn't appear to be human, or probably clones for that matter. An observation that was proven when the leader spoke in a clearly female voice. The leader spoke to the first Jedi and as she did, Dutch noticed the lightsaber on her armor. They were both Jedi? That was a plus a plus for him. Although what they spoke of concerned him. Neither one seemed to know what was happening and all seemed very surprised about their appearance. Then they started throwing around ideas as of trying to solve what was happening. Words such as reenactment, old clones and when or where they were from. Even the idea that they were on the wrong planet. This was very confusing for Dutch and also very frustrating as it was not solving the issue at hand. "Hold on a minute. We're not "old clones" or on the wrong planet. We didn't sleep or whatever, we were stranded and missed our arrival date by a week. As for a reenactment, I'm not even sure what war we'd be reenacting." His gaze landed on each one individually as he sized them up. "I'm not exactly sure what is going on here, but we have a real threat heading this way and I need to locate whoever is in charge of the garrison on this planet. If there is no garrison, then we need to fortify and defend until we can reach Republic command for further orders. Right now I see two Jedi, so are you generals or not?"

'Spades' 'Spades' Phalsi Drynchen Phalsi Drynchen Caelag Vass Caelag Vass


ARC Trooper
Spades stepped in-between Commander Dutch Dutch and the sudden appearance of some Commandoes. Even for a man who had lost everything dear to him. The Republic, His Brothers, and his Jedi teachers. Spades no longer feared whichever wrath he would be put through at their hands. He'd loudly interrupt their conversation with a single word.


As most of everyone went silent, He turned toward Dutch. His eyes clearly tired and depressed. He'd walk over to Dutch and would lay a single armored hand onto his shoulder. The other Clones were seen removing their helmets, even though it was technically against protocol to do so in public. Spades stared for a good long few seconds into the emotionless Phase Two Visor of Dutch's Helmet. He'd open his mouth again, and would finally speak once again.

"Sir. Brothers."

He'd look around at the Clones next to him. Each having a moderately confused expression written on their faces. He'd look toward Dutch with these pleading eyes. If Dutch had any sense, he would know that these next words would be difficult to understand, let along comprehend among the Chaos in the Galaxy.

"Sir... The war is over. It has been for almost Nine-Hundred Years. We didn't win, and neither did the Confederacy either. We all became servants of something worse than the Confederacy. A tyrannical Galactic Empire. I know that this is hard to swallow, but I have to tell you what happened to the rest of us after the war. We were simply dumped aside. Like a mist, we dissapeared into the Galaxy. A piece of History. Our armor, Our ships, our weapons. All just a small phase in Galactic History."

"The War we fought during those years... was for nothing. We lost everything. Our Republic, Our home, our Brothers. As far as I know Sir... We are the only Clones left. Me, and your Legion."

Spades stepped back, allowing Dutch to absorb his words before continuing again.

"Not everything is lost. We may have missed the war that we were bred for. We might have seen thousands of us die. But, I want to tell you that. Its not over. You don't have to believe me, but every Jedi here can vouch for that. We aren't in the Republic anymore. The Republic is Dead and Gone. This doesn't have to be the end of us Clones. We went out in our beds. Dying of old age. Instead of in battle like a Clone should."

"This doesn't have to be the end of us sir. I know this is hard to comprehend, but look around you. Look at the faces of your men. In the persuit of the end of the Clone Wars. We betrayed our Jedi Generals. You all have had that dream. That nightmare where we are forced to hate them. To kill them. I fear, that we were ultimately designed to kill the Jedi. And we were none the wiser.

"There is a place. A place far from here. That offers us help. I beg of you sir. To come with me. Our fight isn't over."

Dutch Dutch
The Flame Major

This certainly was a rather swift flurry of emotional responses for Caelag to undergo within a few moments. First, when getting the thoughts of the Jedi Phalsi Drynchen Phalsi Drynchen , confusion at the situation. Neither seemed likely, a reenactment would need resources and would certainly have a crowd, not to mention there seemed far too many for anything short of a true to life, grand scale conflict. And clones died out, they aged too fast to survive normal lives let alone an additional 900 atop that. So the, ironically, most logically sound possibility was that some madman had arraigned for this for whatever purpose. In her eyes, no less likely a scenario than a reenactment.

This was followed by anger, which flared up when Dutch Dutch spoke to them. Not at his own confusion, that had only added to the first emotion, but at the ending statements. She wasn't unaware why people made the assumption, but lumping her in with Jedi felt distasteful at best. Jedi were symbols and ideals, not soldiers following orders. Furthermore, he suggested she was a General, adding fuel to the idea they truly were clones of that era but also offending Caelag greatly. She was simply not that, and even unintentionally the implication that she might be felt like someone breaking the chain of command. At the very least, she had worked hard for her actual rank and would prefer it used properly.

The anger quickly dialed down to frustration when 'Spades' 'Spades' stepped in and spoke to them all like petulant children, when if anyone was it was Dutch and Dutch alone as of yet. The frustration quickly spiraled into the sudden realization that, as his speech started and even a few clones opted to remove helmets as noted by Captain Atlan's clicking, that a theory on where they came from and why they were here was proven true. Which meant that the droid ship her men had noticed as well was, also real, and also out of the loop. Which meant there could be a few... ten thousand or so droids making their way here for all she knew. The old Confederacy loved to maximize their storage after all.

Immediately she turned to Atlan, putting a hand on his shoulder and nodding at him quickly. The Gand returned the nod, and alongside the other troops that she had brought to meet the newcomers alongside her left to begin preparations on their part. They knew how to handle being out manned and out gunned, they would be setting preparations to engage sabotage and flanking the moment opportunity arose. That left her and the Jedi as the main Silver representatives now...

To the Jedi, she spoke quickly. "I hope you can handle yourself, otherwise just stay behind the others. I'm not having your death on my conscious too." She waited for Spades to finish his speech, before stepping up herself.

"Right well, assuming I'm not actually going crazy after one too many blaster bolts to the head I'm going to just take your word for it that you are what you all claim you are, and acting like. Which means you've just upgraded my week of training drills to a live combat zone." She motioned to Dutch stating, "You said they were headed here, I'm assuming the droids. Do you have any idea how far they landed and do we have time to set explosive charges? And you," She motioned to Spades now. "I'm not unsympathetic to how you feel, but lets try to survive before we talk about the future, yes? We all know it never goes well to plan ahead before the fight and I'd like to get most of us out alive."

Caelag wasn't necessarily panicking, yet, but she was painfully aware of how under prepared for this she was. She hadn't brought live mines or detonation packs, why would she need them in a training exercise? All she could do on that front was hope the clones were the sort to pay attention in grade school when taught to share.