"They've sent us coordinates for docking, master," the pilot says quietly from his place at the controls. 

"Take us in, then, Jorel," Sage tells him, stepping forward to get a good look at the station as they approach, eyes scanning the surrounding space for any sign of treachery. As they pass through the station's shields, however, they turn their head to glance at the other man in the small area behind the cockpit, concern entering their expression on seeing his own.

"How are they, Sergeant?" 

"Only minor injuries, sir," Galvan replies, snapping to attention, only the barest hint of a waver in his voice.
At his side his fist trembled against his armour.

"At ease, Galvan," they sigh. "After the past few days-" they shake their head. "That's good to hear. I'm sure my contact on the station will be able to provide medical attention while we look into what has happened while we were in Hyperspace." 

"Very good, sir." He made to leave the cockpit, but hesitated, looking over his shoulder at his two Jedi.
"If I may, sir," he paused, looking down searchingly, "I suggest tempering your expectations about what we'll find when we dock. Us clones are the finest army the Galaxy has to offer, after all."
With that he left the room, hastily muttering that he ought to check on the others and inform them to prepare to disembark.

They look away as he speaks, nodding. They are more than aware of this fact.

As he leaves, they close their eyes, straining for calm, and reach out to the presences of their people for reassurance that they, at least, are still there.

The rest of Senth Squad waits in the central room of the ship, all crowded around a table and sitting practically thigh-to-thigh. They all look up when Galvan enters, but RC-9129, known as "Crest" to all those aboard the ship, is the one to speak up first, his hands stilling around the small piece of twisted metal in his grip while he turns his attention to their squad leader.

"Any news?"

"Pilot's taking us to the station as we speak, all of you be ready to disembark immediately after the doors open," he announced, "once we're in the station I want us to do a full sweep of the station for any hostiles, that includes any broadcasting devices. General Sage is confident that the medical station is secure, but I want us to be prepared for anything; there's no telling if it was compromised from when they received the transmission and now."

Moving to grab his helmet and pack from where he had left it next to Snag, his eyes catch on the metal in Crest's hands.
"What've you got there Crest?"

There's nods and affirmatives all around at these orders, and they all start moving to pull together their packs and buckets, and then double-check their weapons and equipment.

Crest lifts the object in response to the question, revealing the twisted bit of white duraplast armour. "Nothing, Sarge," he says. "Just a memento." He tucks it into a little pouch around his neck, tucking that back under his own armour. 

There's a gentle shudder as the ship lands in the station's docking bay, and everyone disembarking heads for the ship's loading ramp. Jorel remains up in the cockpit, ready for a quick take-off if this turns out to be a trap, while Sage joins up with Senth, focusing intently on what they can sense from the bay outside.

"I don't sense any hostile intent from those waiting for us outside," they tell Galvan, noting the squad's state of readiness. "Barring a Force-wielder with better emotional shielding than my senses, I don't believe we'll find any trouble."

"All the same sir," Galvan replied, "I'd rather we do a sweep of the station just to make sure, threats aren't always direct after all, and forgive me for assuming but I don't think droids can be said to have intent, sir." With that Galvan unholstered his blaster pistol.

"Jinx, I want you here in the hanger just in case to give the Commander a fighting chance if things go wrong," motioning first to the sniper, then to Snag at her side, "Snag as always you're her spotter, you'll remain here as well for backup, if things go wrong you're second-in-command; the rest of you, on me," and with that the remainder of Senth squad smoothly filed out of the hanger bay.

Jinx nods as she tugs her helmet on, setting up at the top of the ramp for the vantage point as they go down - this leaves her more open than she'd like, but there isn't much cover to be had that would let her retreat if they need to jump out. Snag kneels at her side, blaster at the ready. 

"True enough," they agree in response to the droid comment, "You certainly won't hear any arguments from me on the topic of ensuring our safety."

They do a quick sweep of the hangar as they head down the ramp in the rest of the squad's wake, finding nothing. As the commandos leave the hangar, Sage casts around more carefully, searching for any familiar presences. 

Within the medical wing, Diǎnrán haunts the corridor leading to the medical bay, her fists clenching and unclenching over and over.
Casting her senses out once again, she felt her chest seize as several force signatures presented themselves.

Clones, unique in the Force, each one different but with underlying similarity like blasters that were personally modified from their factory-standard selves.
The clones were moving quickly through the station with another two near the hanger, but there was a discrepancy with the two separate clones.

She submerged herself even deeper in the Force and, ah, there was a shielded Force user in the hanger with the two clones.
A Padawan, she thought to herself. One too focused on making themselves unseen that they instead made themselves into a blank spot in the Force.

She raised a hand to open the door controls to the med bay only to find her lightsaber trembling in a white-knuckled grip. Taking a steadying breath she replaced it back onto her belt and opened the door.
Inside, Dune was sitting on a table with his back to the wall, his chest bare with bacta-patches dotting his skin, ruined pieces of beskar'gam littering the floor around him. He had his blaster disassembled and was mechanically cleaning each part, his modified slug pistol sitting next to his thigh, easily within reach.

In another corner, Dr. Natasi fiddled with a panel connected to a series of wires to a tank of bacta.

"Doctor," she called out, "it seems those friends of yours you mentioned have docked."

Finally unable to ignore the elephant in the room anymore, she strode over to the bacta tank; her eyes flickering to how Dune had started reassembling his blaster at the mention of new arrivals.
Placing her hand on the cold glass, she sighed.

"Oh Padawan."

She felt for her Padawan's presence, muted with unconsciousness and weak from her injuries, but stable within the tank of bacta.

Drawing in a fortifying breath, taking comfort in the Force signature in front of her, diminished as it was, and in the signature achingly far away, weak and distant but still alive.

"Shall we greet our new arrivals?"

Natasi looks up from the panel at her words, "Ah, they have, have they? What can you sense of them?" She asks, both curious and cautious, "I'm expecting a pair of Jedi on the ship in question." 

"Five clones and a Padawan," Diǎnrán replied. Submersing herself in the Force once again, she made another scan.

"The Padawan seems...tense, or anxious, They're so focused on hiding themselves from me that they're a blank spot, or they simply aren't good at hiding themselves," she paused, "the clones are shaken, one of them in particular."

"It's strange," she continued lowly, "the Padawan is between two clones but they aren't trying to run, a stowaway perhaps; and I sense...." Trailing off, she paused to confirm her suspicions before continuing, her brows furrowed in concentration, "I sense a shimmer in the Force heading this way. Someone with very strong shielding, the Padawan's Master."

Looking up back at Dr. Natasi, she finished off with, "I suppose that fits your expected guests, doctor."

"Or a trap with two hostile Force users and five elite clones," Dune interjected, "the clones are an unknown and the General wasn't able to sense the Force users' intentions."

"And all clones would be shaken after this whole thing, even if they're still under Orders," he finished off, loading a fresh magazine into his blaster with an emphatic click.

"It could be a trap, Commander, but the Force users at least fit what I know of those I was expecting. Knight Senetti and their Padawan, Jorel Drettz - I'm sure you met them during the siege of the Ord Cestus medical center, Master Jedi, if only briefly," she adds to Diǎnrán. "Most of the work they've been doing has been with Intelligence. I have no idea why they would have willingly brought those Clones along, however. We should be on our guard until we have an explanation." 

"Knight Sage and Padawan Jorel would be able to hide themselves from my senses, and Senth squad matches the number of clones I sense now," Diǎnrán replied, tightening her arm guard, "all the same, they may have been captured and interrogated. I suggest you remain behind in the med bay until we ascertain their intentions, doctor."

"A wise plan," she agrees. 

"Commander, on my six," Diǎnrán commands before heading out the door, the comforting muted thumps of beskar boots echoing her steps.

Sage pulls up short as they sense those two semi-familiar presences start heading their way. The Jedi's emotions are not easily sensed, but they can at least feel the turmoil they are in beyond their shields. The clone, however, is easy to sense, and has none of that mechanical-slippery feeling those they'd run into during their escape from Coruscant had displayed. They wonder why - had they broken the brainwashing as Senth had? But then, if all six of the clones aboard the station had managed it, why had none of the others they'd encountered?

Still pondering this, they tuck themselves into a sheltered spot to wait for the pair to arrive, lowering their cloak and shields just the slightest amount to allow the Jedi a better sense of their general location, if not their specific hiding place.

"The Master's shields have dipped, Commander," Diǎnrán informed Dune lowly, "they're just outside the corridor leading to the hanger. The clones are sweeping the hanger control room, we'll confront the Master first."

"Understood, Ma'am," Dune replied, holstering his blaster across his back in favour of drawing his slug pistol and reinforced vibroblade.

As they reached the junction to the corridor in question, Dune slowed his pace to lengthen the distance between himself and his Jedi and give himself a better shot in case of an ambush.

"How many times have I told you to call me Diǎnrán, you clones are so stubborn," she sighed fondly, though without her usual accompanying humour.

Reaching the junction, she gripped both her light sabers and rounded the corner, igniting them as she went, casting the metal and herself in a jaundiced hue.

-Oh, they reconize her, now. They lower their cloak further, stepping out of their hiding place, though their hand does come to rest cautiously on their lightsaber's hilt.

"Knight Diǎnrán," they greet, "...It's good to see you well."

Diǎnrán pauses, taking in their cautious stance, before lowering her lightsabers and shutting off their power with the customary hiss.

"Knight Sage," she gives them a nod, "meeting any other Jedi in these times is indeed a relief. Am I to presume the five clones I sense are Senth squad and haven't been turned into meat droids?"

"They're mostly unaffected, yes," they agree. Their eyes flick to Dune, then back to Diǎnrán, "I'd been assuming there might be something about the RCs which leaves them able to break the brainwashing responsible, where the others can't," they say. "Your presence suggests that I was right, Commander?" 

"General," Dune greets with a perfunctory nod, holstering his weapons, although his hand rested on his slug pistol grip, "if you mean the Orders, I imagine they have something to do with the differences between us RCs and the bog-standard trooper, either the needle-necks figured out some way more efficient to mind-fuck us or it's that aggression chip they put in the younger batches."

"Chips?" Their face twists at the idea, "That... could explain it. The way the clones we fought while escaping Coruscant felt... It was like their personalities had been overwritten. They really did feel like fleshy droids, as you said. For Senth, it mostly seems to be an impulse to attack Jorel and I if we move too unexpectedly - and they can resist." They shake their head, "We knew there were some contingency orders included in their flash training, but nothing like this."

"How could we have been so fucking stupid?!" Diǎnrán roared, turning to punch the corridor wall, subconsciously calling on the Force to fill her body as she did so.

The metal creaked in protest as she tore her gauntlet from the wall.

"Dune found out about the chips as early as Geonosis -- the first Geonosis when they mobilised the whole bloody Order to save Kenobi and those two reckless idiots," she admitted, feeling the roiling of her emotions she sucked in a breath to regain a semblance of calm, "he -- we -- thought that it was suspicious to chip the clones but when Dune told me about the aggression conditioning the Commandos have to go through and the disastrous Nulls we wrote it off as a faster, more efficient method than the conditioning."

"I was going to have Dr. Natasi take a look at the chip when we got the chance, having something that's a part of you that you don't fully understand is idiotic," she continued, feeling the piston and motors in her left leg shift as she moved back to face Sage, "but it was never important enough to delay a mission for and none of our medical staff specialised in neurology."

Sighing, she motioned for Sage to follow her as she headed back to the med bay, "I have what we do know in a datapad in the med bay, better than standing around in a corridor like younglings waiting for a reprimand from their crechemaster."

They start when she yells, going tense for a moment but quickly relaxing again before she turns back around. 

"Let's," they agree once she comes to her conclusion, starting after her down the hall. "I can get you what we have on the orders, too. It's an encripted file, and Hack's only about half-way through it, but it's better than nothing. We've only had it since just before the battle above Coruscant earlier this week. If we'd known how important it would be," their mouth tightens, and they breathe out slowly, mantaining their calm.

"It's like everything has been coming together to work against us. If we'd just had a little more time-"

"We did have the time," Diǎnrán interrupted, "we could forestalled the use of the clones as an army until we fully understood them, or not have joined as generals ourselves, or conducted concurrent testing on them."

She took another deep breath to calm herself and shot them a mildly apologetic look.

"Hindsight is 20/20. But what I don't understand is what exactly happened. The clones got an order, one of those special Orders Dune mentioned, then I guess the chips took over like a slave bolt on a droid and made them all into meat puppets, I get that," she said, "but what I don't get is how that happened. The Kaminoans aren't ambitious enough and don't have enough of a grudge against the Order to do it on their own, and Kenobi said that the clones were commissioned by Master Sifo-Dyas and he wasn't a darksider, at least I don't think so."

And let the Sith and the Separtists run roughshod over the galaxy while they stalled and hemmed and hawed and refused to help? They don't say it, but it crosses their mind - they've been hearing furtive discussions on the topic in the halls of the Temple since the beginning of the war.

...Force, the Temple.

They push those memories aside for now, refocusing on Diǎnrán's words. 

"I was too busy running to look into what exactly had happened, on Coruscant. But, the Sith must have been involved, somehow. A plot like this... The entire Order has come to rely on the GAR so heavily." They glance at Dune, "Many of us trust the Vod'e more than we've ever trusted anyone outside the Order. A plot meant to use that trust, to turn it into our downfall..." It reeks of Sith. 

"Dooku was the Sith behind the CIS, but he died over Coruscant," Diǎnrán mumbled, "his death shook the will of the CIS to continue."

Raising her voice to normal volume, she continued, "I don't think Dooku was behind all of it, he isn't subtle enough for it, he was a Guardian not a Sentinel. On top of that he died over Coruscant, nobody who is as visionary and patient as the one that must've put this in motion would've ever exposed themselves like that without contingency plans. So I think he was the Apprentice, and the genocide that followed was the Master's doing."

"Furthermore, our reliance on the clones, and the Order's decision to jump into the war, those never sat well with me," she shot Dune an apologetic look as they walked down the corridor, getting an easy shrug in return, "we aren't the same Order as we once were in the past, our numbers were too few to maintain some of the legacy practices we had; we were already stretched thin as it was and too many of us weren't suited for war. Nobody I knew who practiced Niman and went to the first Geonosis ever came back, and so many of our diplomatic Jedi were pushed into generalship and died for it--" Her eyes widened and she stopped in her tracks.

"Ma'am?" Dune gripped her shoulder firmly and gave her a gentle shake.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

"I know who the Sith Master is,"  Diǎnrán continued blankly, distractedly reaching up to give Dune's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"A lot of the pressure to push the GAR into integrating the clones and for the Jedi to enter the war came from the Senate, and they're notoriously slow on everything, but suddenly they made a concerted push on two fronts almost simultaneously and with enough momentum that all of us couldn't help but get swept up into it. It doesn't make sense, unless the Master was in the Senate and organised their efforts they would've been deliberating until Core Worlds started falling before rushing out a haphazard bill like they always do. And the one person in the Senate who's benefited the most from all of this, who kept accumulating emergency power after emergency power, is the Chancellor--but, it can't be him," she turned to look searchingly at Sage, "if it was him then that means he was right in front of us this whole time for years as a Senator and again as the Chancellor and none of us, not even Master Yoda, noticed a thing!"

Sage stops as well, frowning hard, "That-no, the Chancellor? That can't be possible, we would have noticed-" 

They pause, then let out a sigh, rubbing at their temples, "Except... there are techniques, which can hide Force Sensitivity," they say, slowly, "It takes the skill of a Master to do it without spending all your attention on it, but it is possible. But to hide your Sensitivity from Masters as skilled as Yoda? Then again, the Dark Side is suited to deception," they consider. "And... anyone with any kind of foresight has been saying for years that Coruscant has been growing too Dark to see clearly." 

...And why hadn't they listened to them, anyway.

They twitch minutely, setting that aside for later thought, "There must be a holonet connection on this station. Maybe checking into whatever the official story the propogandaists are spinning will give us more pieces of this puzzle?" 

"We can at least see who they're targeting and who's capitalising on this," Diǎnrán agreed, "as things are we'll probably be branded as traitors or something to explain why they had GAR attack the Jedi, although I'm not sure how they'll spin it that every single Jedi suddenly turned traitor simultaneously."

"Popular opinion has been swinging against us for this whole war. They might be able to swing that for the Jedi who were actively fighting, at least - and most people don't actually know much about the rest of the Order." They pause, expression twisting, "I... don't know how they'll spin what happened to... to the Temple, though," they say. They'd been half-way across the planet when the order went out, but that had been more than close enough to feel... 

They push those thoughts away again.

"I need to update my squad," they say abruptly, lifting their wristcomm and tapping at the controls to comm Galvan. 

"Ah."

What else was there to say? Offering condolences for having to feel all the babies and children -- the Order's future -- be extinguished as callously and quickly as snuffing out a candle would hardly help.

Midway through clearing the maintenance wing of the station, Galvan heard the telltale chime of his wristcomm.

Pausing the squad's progress, he raised his arm to receive the call.

"General," he greeted, "what's your status?"

"In the clear, so far, Sergeant. I've met the welcoming party - Knight Xīn Diǎnrán and her Commander, Dune. We're going to go over what intel we have between us, and look into what we can pull off the holonet. Anything alarming on your end?"

Ah, Dune. He remembers a panicked and green platoon commander, his shiny armour bleeding a rusted red and his blaster shaking every time he heard a Geonosian war cry.

"Nothing so far, General," he replied, "all seems normal, we've mid-way through the maintenance wing; docking wing is clear."

"Good... That's good to hear. Let me know when you've finished your sweep - and I'll keep my comm set so you can track me on your HUD if there's an emergency." 

"Understood, general," he acknowledged, "we'll be in touch."

With that he signaled Senth to continue their sweep.

They comm Jorel, as well, letting him know what's happening, and then turn their attention back to the other two, "That's everyone, lead on? Unless you'd rather go over this in the medbay, in which case I should retrieve the datapad with the orders on it from my ship."

Diǎnrán paused, torn.

Worrying her lower lip, she replied, "I would prefer the med bay. My Padawan is....indisposed at the moment and Dr. Natasi is caring for her. Plus the good doctor is our best bet at figuring out exactly how the chips work and what they do."

"Of course... If you'll give me directions, I'll retrieve Jorel and the pad and meet you there?"

"That's an option," Diǎnrán conceded, "or I could leave Commander Dune with you and he can escort you there while I go to inform the good doctor about the developments?"

They tilt their head in something like a nod, "If you'd rather that, I wouldn't say no to a guide." They step back towards the hangar, motioning towards it, "This way, then." 

Giving a cursory node to his Jedi, Dune motioned down the corridor.

"After you, General."

Returning Dune's nod, Diǎnrán turned back to return to the med bay.

Once there she opened the door to find Dr. Natasi checking a datapad of some kind.

"Complications, doctor?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly as her heart skipped a beat.

"Hardly, Master Jedi. Merely checking the readouts. All seems to be proceeding as I expected - your Padawan should be healed enough to remove from the bacta in roughly seven hours." 

She felt some of the tension drain, suddenly feeling her knees weaken Diǎnrán slumped onto a free cot.

"Ah, good," she croaked, before clearing her throat to continue, "your expected guests are here, doctor. There are some....unexpected developments regarding the clone chips Dune and I brought to your attention before. We have reason to believe they may be more than simple aggression chips, but I'll let Knight Sage explain when they return--ah, that reminds me, the clones are Senth squad, a batch of Republic Commandos attached to Knight Sage, they're stable for now so do let your staff know there's nothing to be alarmed about."

She nods. Most of her staff is asleep at the moment - it's the middle of the night cycle - but she does send off a message to the fellows in the comms tower. They can pass the memo on from there.

"It will be a pleasure to have more information to work with," she adds once she's done that. 

"Hmm, I wouldn't call it a pleasure, exactly," she cautioned.

"It's--" she closes her eyes briefly, focusing on that distant presence, "it's a lot."

"Perhaps the contents will not be pleasing, exactly," she acknowledges, "But I'm always pleased to know more rather than less, regardless of any nightmares that might result." 

Acknowledging her point, Diǎnrán walked over to the table Dune was using as a chair to make use of the maintenance kit he left behind.

Busying herself in disassembling and cleaning her lightsabers, her trance was broken when she heard the door slide open with a pneumatic hiss.

Turning, she nodded a greeting.

Sage nods back as they come through the door, trailing their Padawan and Dune. They lift the datapad in offering as they reach the table, "As I said, only part-way unencrypted. But it's better than nothing, and Hack can get back to work on it once they arrive." They boot up the pad, tap out the password, and then hand it over as the list of orders comes on the screen.

"Master Senetti," Natasi greets, coming over to take a look as well. 

"Dr. Finos," they greet in return, "Thank you for taking us in." 

Diǎnrán reached over to her pack, once the standard white now ashen and charred in places, and withdrew a datapad.

"This is what we have on the chips. It isn't much -- mostly our observations on it -- but it might help," she unlocked it and handed it to Dr. Natasi before continuing, "we weren't able to get a hold of the chips unfortunately, they seemed to be almost....organic, so they degraded quickly when exposed to the elements and my battalion didn't have the equipment necessary to hold one in stasis."

"Yeah," Dune continued, "I saw one during Geonosis, poor trooper had his head cracked open like an egg, there was a fleshy lump on his skull, like a tumour I guess, but too uniformly flat and it had a red pulsating centre."

He shuddered, adding, "the thing upped and rotted away in front of me; couldn't sleep for a week after that, kept wondering if I had one in me too."

"Force," Sage mutters, looking at the data over her shoulder. 

Natasi hums, "I expect the speed of decomposition is purposeful. The quicker they destroy themselves, the less time a hypothetical surgeon would have to get one into stasis. The Kaminoans are very proprietary about their methods." 

"They chipped you?" Jorel asks, incensed, from over by the bacta tank. "Like-" he pauses.

"...Like slaves." 

"Worse," Sage murmurs, "Most slave implants only kill those who have them. These chips..." they look down at the datapad with the orders on it. 

"They're basically turning them into droids," Diǎnrán took over, peering at the screen from her other shoulder, "those Orders of theirs are so specific and so antithetical to normal morality the chips would have to be able to override their minds and force them into carrying some of them out."

"Exactly."

"It explains the... state, the regulars we came across were in. Their emotional profiles... weren't. They seemed to feel nothing." It was incredibly unnerving, and had left Sage unusually distracted for much of their escape from Coruscant. "The order responsible for..." They take a slow breath, continuing to set aside their emotional reactions for later, "This, must be one of the ones Hack has yet to decrypt," they continue after a moment. 

"I'd like to examine you," Natasi tells Dune, and then to Sage, "Your squad as well, Master Senetti, to see if there are any anomalies like those noted in this datapad. I'd also like to get a look at one of the clones who are affected, but of course that will have to wait until I can get my hands on one," she muses. 

"Understood, doctor," Dune agreed readily, "I dunno if the chips they put in us RCs were earlier, faulty models or we just got lucky, but I'd rather get it out of me all the same."

"Well, in the meantime while we wait for Dr. Natasi to examine the Commandos for the the rest of the Orders to be decrypted," Diǎnrán said, "Doctor, I was wondering if this station had any long-range communication capabilities and if I could possibly make a holocall with it?"

"Certainly," she agrees, "Though, depending on who you intend to call, you may wish to use a more secure frequency than ours." 

"You can use my ship's comms, if you'd like," Sage offers. "My specialty being what it is..." they shrug. 

"That works, thank you," Diǎnrán replied.

"Do you want to give your two commandos a heads-up that I'm coming or should I just head over and explain while I'm there?"

"No, I'll let them know." No need to startle them with an unknown Jedi. They tap their wristcomm to raise Snag, and explain the situation to him, nodding to Diǎnrán once they're finished.

"They know to expect you."

Natasi, meanwhile, ushers Dune into a side room to take some scans. 

"Thank you, in that case I'll head over immediately," giving a cursory nod, she turned to leave to room, sparing her Padawan a second, worried glance before stepping out the doorway and closing it behind herself.

Retracing her steps, she arrived back in the corridor outside of the hanger and continued onward into the hanger itself.

Seeing the sleek form of a Pathfinder Corvette, far rarer and more expensive than any medical research personnel could justify buying with their research grant, she headed towards it, nodding a greeting to the sniper duo stationed by the ramp before ascending it.

After some poking around, she finally found the holoterminal and keyed in the comm frequency that she had memorised since being first deployed at the start of the Clone Wars.
Steadying her breathing to the dull chime of the terminal attempting to establish a connection with the receiving terminal, she felt her fragile calm fraying with each repeated chime--

Unceremoniously, the terminal gave a quick beep and projected the hologram of a human woman and at once she felt her shoulders sag and her knees weaken as she took in her appearance: scuffled, bags under her eyes and a haunted slant to her face plain to see even through the blue hue of a hologram, but whole and alive.

"I--" She cleared her throat, suddenly dry, before trying again, "I'm glad to see you alright, 'Ria."

"It's good to see you too, Diǎnrán," returning the greeting, Einaria took in Diǎnrán's holographic visage, noted the charred and half-melted armour stubbornly clinging to her body, the once-proud emblem of a twisted black snake impaled by a sword on her shoulder guard now charred and ruined with only the head visible as a clue to what it once was. She swallowed, feeling the world sway.

"When I heard about the clones I, I feared the worst," she admitted, squeezing her eyes shut.

"My senses aren't as attuned as yours, but you had one of the best attack battalions in the Republic -- even a company of Commandos! -- and when I couldn't raise you on your ship..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

Trying to collect herself, she refocused on Diǎnrán, before her eyes narrowed.

"Diǎnrán, where's Venina?" She asked, "is she alright?"

Sucking in a breath, Diǎnrán have a tense nod, "she'll be fine, she took a shot while we were trying to escape the 802nd, but I managed to get us smuggled on a ship off of Drearia and to the Taris Medical Station, she's in a bacta tank being overseen by a doctor."

"You know our Venina, she's too stubborn for her own good. Doc said she should be out in a few hours, don't worry," she tried for a smile but felt it come off as more of a grimace.

"That's ironic, coming from you," Einaria retorted, ignoring the pit in her stomach that formed, "you complain she's too stubborn as if it isn't your fault, I'd say she's too much like her Master."

Giving a weak snicker, Diǎnrán quickly sobered as the memories of the escape threw themselves into the forefront of her mind again.

"Actually, Venom Company helped us escape, they seemed affected at the same time as my other troopers, but they shook it off and started responding to Dune's orders as per normal," she swallowed before continuing, "they didn't, didn't make it off Drearia though. Only Venina, Dune and myself escaped."

Quickly changing topics, she added, "I met another Jedi on the station actually, Knight Sage, their padawan, and commando squad Senth made it off of Coruscant."

"Don't try to brush off what happened, Diǎnrán," Einaria replied, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Trust me I know when someone's bottling something up," she gave a self-depreciating huff at that, "I know you loved those boys, and that they loved you."

"You don't know what was like, 'Ria," Diǎnrán said, just above a whisper, "how so many presences, bright and so alive in the Force, suddenly disappeared crying out in betrayal, and the clones, they suddenly felt so muted and emotionless, like droids but human and alive. The Force feels so empty now."

Forcing her hand down from where it had instinctively covered her mouth, she fought to keep her voice steady, calling on her diplomatic experience despite her empty stomach rebelling against her.

"I'm so sorry," she replied, "but I'm also so glad it wasn't you. You're strong, you got through it and you survived."

Glancing down, she added teasingly, "also you might want to let go, having to explain to that doctor how someone managed to sprain their fingers on a holoterminal wouldn't go over well I imagine."

Quickly releasing her fingers from the corner of the holoterminal, she gave a wet snort and flexed them, wincing at the ache.

"Thanks, 'Ria."

Stubbornly wiping at the tear that had leaked out and was sliding down her cheek, she pressed on, "but the Jedi, Knight Sage, they an encrypted file on their mission on Coruscant with a list of special Orders, their tech specialist is trying to crack the encryption now so there's no confirmation that's what made the clones turn on us but," she swallowed, remembering Order 37, "some of those aren't exactly squeaky clean stuff, 'Ria so we're pretty sure at least one of them has to do with what, what happened."

She took a deep breath to try and calm herself, "the doctor's doing a check on Dune right now to see if his chip has any clues why he managed to resist turning on me."

"This hole keeps getting deeper and deeper," Einaria mumbled to herself, "first a set of suspicious chips in the clones none of us were told about, now morally dubious orders in an encrypted file that, most likely, contain a special Order to turn on the Jedi."

Shaking her head, she looked back up.

"I understand, I'm currently on Champala, but I can take the Hydian Way and make it to Taris in half a day. Even if I'm seen they'd have to check the whole Outer Rim leg of the Hydian Way, not to mention the possibility I made a two jump trip or more."

"Alright," suddenly at a loss, Diǎnrán bit her lip before continuing, "be careful out there 'Ria, Your Consular's a tough old bird but it isn't nearly tough enough to survive a warship bearing down on you."

"Do you have so little faith in me?" Einaria teased half-heartedly, "I'm not as good of a pilot as Master Plo is-was but I'm not half-bad either."

"Perhaps not, you might've improved since the last time I saw you fly over Cato Nemodia," Diǎnrán japed, tactfully ignoring her verbal stumble, but quickly sobered again.

"Be careful, 'Ria," she implored, "come back to me safe." I don't know what I'd do without you, went unsaid.

Einaria took a steadying breath to collect her thoughts.

"I'll try my best, as always." I know.

"Venina'll be excited to see you again, I bet," Diǎnrán teased. We're both waiting for you.

"May the Force be with you." I love you.

"And with you." I love you too.

Cutting the transmission, Einaria made sure to save the new transmission frequency before making her way to the cockpit, suddenly feeling lighter and less alone.

Watching the blank terminal, Diǎnrán allowed herself to slump, overcome with fatigue and relief.

After a few more minutes, she returned to the med bay.

"Another Jedi should be joining us within a day or so," she announced in lieu of a greeting, "she's coming in from Champala."

Sage, sensing her relief as she enters, offers her a half-hearted smile, "I'm glad to hear that she is alright," whomever she might be. They don't know much about Diǎnrán's social circle, being both older and specialized entirely differently. "Doctor Finos is still in the other room with your Commander," they add.

"Right, well I guess it went well, she didn't trigger a berserk or self-destruct function at least," she commented before heading over to the room Sage pointed out.

She knocked once out of politeness before opening the door.

"So Doctor, any progress on Dune's chip?"

"No," she says, turning away from a screen next to the bed where Dune is sitting, "None at all. I can't seem to find anything on any of the scans I've tried so far - I was about to ask if I might try a class five scan, which would require me to sedate you, Commander. It's the most detailed kind of medical scan I'm capable of with this equipment - if nothing shows up on that one, we'll know there's nothing to be found."

"I'm not sure, doctor," Dune replied, "I wouldn't want to be dead weight if we do get attacked."

"Ah, Dune, I managed to get a hold of Einaria," Diǎnrán added, "she's coming in from Champala, she should arrive in about half a day. If we do end up going for the scan, now would be the time in case she's followed, if we were followed they'd be here from Drearia by now so we're probably in the clear."

"Well, that changes things," Dune admitted, rubbing his goatee.

After a moment, he turned back to face Natasi.

"Doctor, if I can be back up by the time General Einaria gets here I'll do the scan."

She nods, "Half a day is more than enough time, Commander. I'll need you to remove the rest of your armour, first - the material will interfere with the scan. You're welcome to stay if you wish, Master Jedi," she adds towards Diǎnrán, "Assuming the Commander has no objections. It won't be terribly interesting, however."

"If it's all the same to you, Dune, I'd rather stay," Diǎnrán admitted.

"No problem, General," Dune replied as he began removing the rest of his armour, "having someone to watch my back is always good."

Once he finished, leaving him in just his black pressure suit, Diǎnrán nodded towards Dr. Natasi, "go ahead, Doctor."

"Of course," she moves back to his side from where she'd been setting up the sedative, waiting for his nod and then reaching out to press the hypospray to his neck. 

"That should come into effect quite quickly, you might wish to lie down before you fall down," she advises him, before moving to one of the screens attached to the bed to prep the scan for once he's unconscious. 

The scan takes about half an hour, given that she's limiting it to his head. Once it's done, she sends the data to the holoprojector on a nearby desk, and moves over to examine it. 

"There's nothing obvious," she tells Diǎnrán, frowning. "I'll take some time to examine it more closely," she adds, "Your man should wake within the next hour - I was a bit liberal with the sedative, in case the scan took longer than I expected."

"Understood, doctor," Diǎnrán replied, "the clones were engineered to be resistant against a lot of chemicals, so erring on the side of caution when it comes to them is always useful. I'll leave you to analyse the results then."

With that she left the room to rejoin Sage in the main medical bay.

They appear to be in the middle of a deep conversation with their padawan, foreheads pressed together while the young man murmurs something, his body and presence wound tight with tension. Sage pulls back just the slightest amount once she re-enters the room, giving Diǎnrán a questioning look. 

Jorel follows his master's gaze to her as well, relaxing a bit at the interruption.

"Oh, Knight Xīn," he greets, "Uh... did the doctor learn anything new?"

"Padawan Drettz," she returned the greeting with a nod, "unfortunately not, she's currently analysing the results of a deeper scan so perhaps the chips are better hidden than expected."

Taking in their postures, she added, "if you'd rather I give you two some privacy...?"

"No! It's fine," he insists, shooting his master a look, "I wanted to ask-" he stalls, then tries again, "What happened? To Venina. I mean, obviously, the order, but... You had a full company of Commandos, didn't you?"

"Jorel-!" Sage interjects, then sighs, "Please, try to be more mindful of others." He should know better than to bring up something so obviously painful, but then they are all having... calling it a very bad day is an understatement. 

"Diǎnrán, please don't feel obligated to answer." Anything they need to know they can go over once they know more about the state of the galaxy and the reasons for this betrayal. 

"No, no it's fine," she waved them off, "it's not too hard to swallow honestly, as strong as a company of Commandos are, the force multiplier of mechanised transport and artillery support is more than enough for two standard clone companies to wipe them out."

She paused, before continuing, "honestly a part of me -- albeit a very small part -- is proud of all of my men, they all fought well and with great bravery. As for what happened to Venina, well I mentioned the artillery didn't I? Her Barrier skills are good, but not perfect."

Sighing, she took a seat on one of the cheap plastoid chairs, "I have my own thoughts on the matter, but I think we should try to focus on the here and now for the moment, that being the connection between the chips and the set of Orders you two found, anything else is just speculation until then, unless one of you has a gift of foresight you've been keeping from me?" She finished with a half-hearted tease.

Jorel's brow furrows, "Proud? But. They're dead. They betrayed us. Tried to kill you - they did kill each other!" He's on his feet by the end of this, shouting at her. 

"Jorel!" Sage stands, "She knows. Your anger is misdirected - release it."

"I think I have the right to be angry!"

"You know better, Padawan. Think, you are teetering dangerously close to an edge right now."

"I agree with your master, Padawan. Release your anger into the Force, as a Sentinel-in-training you of all people understand that making judgements with your mind clouded by emotion is the quickest way to fail."

Locking eyes with Jorel, she continued, "I understand your emotions, I share them too, emotions are natural for all species but we mustn't let them control us, even moreso for we who are in-tune with the Force. Release your anger, then you may ask me another question."

"I-" he grits his teeth, "Yes, masters," he screws his eyes shut, settling down on his heels and tipping his head back, his breaths evening. The Force, roiling around him, slowly smooths out, as he spools in and releases his anger as directed. 

Once he's calmer, he collapses back into his chair, sending Diǎnrán an ashamed look, "Sorry, Knight Xīn. I... know you didn't mean your words the way I took them."

"No apology necessary, Padawan," she waved him off, "as I said, emotions are natural--if anything now is a good time to express whatever you feel you can't properly release into the Force."

Seeing hm calm further, she continued, "did you have another question?"

He shakes his head, "You don't know any more than we do, right? Just..." He glances back at Venina, "She's going to be okay, right?" 

 Diǎnrán looked up at her face, if it wasn't for the blue hue cast by illuminated bacta she could almost fool herself into thinking her Padawan was merely asleep.

"Dr. Natasi said she should be fine after a few hours, so all that's left now is to wait."

"...Okay," he says. He focuses on her force signature, trying to keep his attention from straying to thoughts of all their other crechemates. Jaesen, Evea, Terrel... Had they survived the war to this point only to all die at the hands of people they trusted?

Sage sighs. 

"...We had intended to look into the reports coming from Coruscant, hadn't we? To find out how they're explaining this."

"Yes,"  Diǎnrán confirmed.

"Personally I'm more concerned with the CIS and what's happened to them, and who's capitalising on this. How they explain themselves murdering the Jedi will probably be fabricated conspiracies anyway," turning to Sage, she gestured for them to take the lead, "I'm not familiar with the layout of Taris Medical Station, if you know where to go please lead on."

"Ah," they look around, "I'm not familiar with this station in particular... I think we should be able to access the holonet from any available terminal. I'll ask Dr. Finos if she minds us using the one in her office." 

They knock on the door to the examination room, leaning inside for a quick exchange, and then close the door again, nodding at Diǎnrán and heading over to the door with Dr. Finos' name on it. 

Inside, they settle in the seat in front of the desk, powering the terminal up and unlocking it, and then begin navigating to the holosites they need. "Should be easy enough to find what they're telling the public," they murmur, pulling up a news site.

Indeed, there it is on the front page news.

"Foundation of a New Era," they murmur, and, "Treasonous Jedi Plot Foiled, Peace Declared with the CIS, this is-" they pull away, a hand going to their furrowed brow. They have to take a few breaths to settle themself before they can actually make themself read those articles, but they leave them open so Diǎnrán can look while they compose themself.

"A new Galactic Empire?!" Diǎnrán paused, sharing a look with Sage, before she kept reading, mumbling to herself as she went.

"Palpatine...new Emperor....Grievous dead on Utapau...CIS leaders assassinated on Mustafar....what the fuck..." Looking back up at Sage, she tried for a shrug, "well, at least we know who's the Sith Lord now?"

They give a slightly hysterical laugh.

"There is that," they agree. "Force, you were right, all that time spent searching, and he was right there, before the eyes of the entire Order all along - I don't want to believe it but... who else could have done this - not to mention he's Emperor, now." 

They lean back in their seat, staring sightlessly at the screen, some of the depair they've been holding in leaking out through their shields.

"...What... do we do, about this?" 

"What else?" Diǎnrán asked.

"We are Jedi are we not? Order or no Order, and we have a clear target," she said, gesturing at the hooded figure of Palpatine, lauding in his success in front of the Senate, "with the Rule of Two, there's only the Apprentice to find."

"You want to take the fight to him? We'd need... far more information than what we have, to even come close. We don't know anything about his abilities, we know very little about his actual resources - beyond everything he already had as Chancellor - and we have no idea who the new Apprentice could be. Never mind any other disciples he might have taught Sith techniques to." 

"True," she admitted, "but it's a direction to go in, I'm not saying march into the Senate, lightsabers ignited and start throwing repulsorpods into his face like idiots, but we should work towards the end goal of eradicating the Sith, especially since we know where one of two is."

"Agreed."

They look off at a distant point, where they can feel their squad moving towards the medbay.

"Information, and allies," they murmur. "If we can figure out how to deactivate or remove this chip, I'm near-certain any clone who survived waking up would side with us. Beyond that, there must be other Jedi survivors, and more citizens of the new Empire who will want to fight." They pause. "Did you get that message from the Temple? The one from Kenobi, warning us not to return. That suggests he might be alive, at least. And where he goes, so does Skywalker. They would make for good allies, if we can find them." 

"But how will we subdue them en masse?" Diǎnrán countered, "and going at it one at a time won't have a lot of effect." She paused.

"Maybe if we found out how to activate the chips? Then we'd be able to deactivate them, right?"

She shook her head to shelve that though for the moment, "Kenobi and Skywalker would be good allies, but I'm not sure where to find them. Skywalker's from Tatooine so he'd be safest there among his people, but I'm not sure he'd want to return to that wasteland....perhaps Naboo? They're both friends of Senator Amidala."

"Ah," she snapped her fingers, "speaking of Senators, we should contact Senator Prelict, she was always among the level-headed and reasonable members of the Senate.We'll need allies in both the governing body and on the ground."

"All good ideas," they agree. "We should reach out to any contacts we have - carefully. All the intelligence of the new Empire will likely be turned to catch word of any Jedi survivors. We don't want to be caught before we can even begin." They pause, then add, "I have... contacts, with the Northern Mandalorians. I suspect the upheaval on Mandalore might have passed them by, to some extent. They will have been much more prepared to fight Death Watch than the New Mandalorians were. If we need somewhere fairly safe to go... well, no one will question a person wearing identity-obscuring armour in Mandalorian space." They glance towards the scanning room, "Though your Commander might need to leave that Beskar out of sight."

"I'll....have to talk to him about it, " Diǎnrán allowed. "From what he's told me he took the armour fairly from a Mandalorian bounty hunter hired to sabotage a Republic convoy and, well, the Kaminoans tried to remove as much of Jango Fett as they could from his clones but Mandalorian stubbornness is hard to stamp out."

"Hm. True enough. But... do you know the cultural significance behind it? In much the same way that many of the clones view their armour as their true face, the Mandalorians do as well. In a sense, he's wearing that bounty hunter's body."

"I don't know much," she admitted, "but I do know that Dune doesn't see it that way because he repainted the armour, in the same way that if a trooper's armour was damaged and logistics issues them a replacement from a dead trooper they'd repaint the armour and consider it their own. Again," she continued, "I'll have to talk to Dune about it, he'll come around, I'm sure of it. Even he doesn't like it, he's responsible enough not to put his preferences above all of our well-being."

They nod, "Let me know if you want me to explain more - or, better, you could ask Jinx, she knows the topic better and more intimately than I do." 

In the meantime, they turn back to the holoterminal, intent on giving the articles another read and then going looking for others to see what they can find out from the commonalities and differences..

Diǎnrán hummed, "Let me know if you find anything in the articles, I have an idea for our Padawans' Trial of Insight. In the meantime I think I'll go have a chat with Jinx, the sniper by the ship, right?"

"That's right. Her spotter is Snag," they add. "And I'd be happy to hear about your idea once you're done speaking with her. I'll probably still be here when you get back." 

"Of course," she replied, before moving to leave."If anything does wrong you have my comm frequency."

With that, she left the room.

Arriving at the hanger, she raised her hand in greeting to the two Force signatures she felt by the ship, well-hidden against normal detection but flickering softly as all sentients do to her senses.

"Jinx and Snag, I presume?" She greeted as she drew closer, raising her hand in greeting. Turning to face the sniper of the pair, she continued, "I have a question for you, if you don't mind."

There's a long pause as the sniper observes her from her spot next to a crate just off the ship's ramp, and then she shifts up and properly into view, offering a salute, "General," she greets, "I'm all ears."

Snag hauls himself up beside her, copying her movements with a quieter, slightly more grudging and suspicious, "General," echoing after hers. 

"I had some questions for the two of you regarding beskar, specifically beskar'gam, if you don't mind," she began.

"I spoke to Sage about it but they directed me to you for more information. Commander Dune had a set of beskar'gam he...liberated, from what he has told me. But as part of our flight it has been rendered," she hesitated, "untenable."

Snag speaks up before Jinx can, "Commander Dune's been wearing someone else's armour?" 

Jinx nudges him with an arm, "If it's actual beskar, it saved your lives, yeah? He kill the one he took it off of?" 

"He...didn't really give me many details," she admitted, flexing her fingers, "it was before Venom Company had been permanently assigned to me."

"Of what he did tell me, it was originally from a bounty hunter -- I'm not sure if they were a true Mandalorian themselves or if they had stolen it themselves -- that he killed during one of his earliest missions. Just after Geonosis actually, if I remember correctly. Part of being at the front so much is you start to track long term time with which campaign it was, rather than specific months or even years," Diǎnrán gave them a wan smile before clearing her throat. "The only other things I can tell you is that he stripped everything off of it with some weak acid and that he once muttered something to me about a debt and that he's always been almost obsessive over keeping it well-maintained."

She chuckled, her eyes distant.

"We actually used to joke that he was a better face of Cobra Battalion to the media than I was, he always looked so pristine it was like he'd just walked off a modelling runway."

Jinx flashes a small, wry smile at the comment about time tracking, and then nods thoughtfully, "I'll ask him about it later, then," she decides, "As for - well, how bad is it now? Is the metal itself busted, or the electronics, or just the non-beskar parts?" 

"He took a few glancing shots," Diǎnrán began, "from artillery fire. So to answer your question I'd say yes and leave it at that."

"Some of that was because of me, I wasn't very focused when my Padawan was injured and didn't have the presence of mind to react to the bombardment."

She sucked in a breath and looked down to notice that she had began wringing her hands together and frowned.

Old habits die hard it seemed, even those as old as from her days as a nervous, stuttering Initiate.

"But in general his armour would be considered at about a third of its maximum capacity, mostly isolated to the areas protecting his lower body and upper arms."

"Ah, yeah, that's a problem," an understatement, really, "If it's really that bad, it'll take a beskar smith to fix it for him - and you won't find many gorane off Mandalore itself, even in these times." 

She bit her lip, before sighing.

"I suppose there's nothing for it, all that weight will only slow us down, especially without the main protectiveness of the armour to compensate for it. Doubly so if we're heading into neutral space, if another Mandalorian sees the armour worn by a clone they may not take too kindly to it I don't think." 

She rolled her shoulders and nodded to the two of them.

"I suppose I shall have to break the news to Commander Dune when he wakes up from his surgery, thank you for answering my questions," she turned to return to the medbay before starting and turning back to face them.

"Ah right, I rushed off before telling you earlier, but I should be expecting a Consular-class ship within the next day or so." With her piece said she gave them both a quick nod of thanks before walking off.

"There are clones who wear beskar, actually," Jinx comments as she leaves, "But if he doesn't consider himself Mando'ade, then best not," she nods.

The medbay is as she left it. Jorel is seated in front of Venina's tank, meditating now, she can sense by the feel of his force signature. Dune and Dr Finos are in the same room they were before, the former slowly waking from his drugged sleep, the latter focusing intently on something. Knight Senetti is still in Dr. Finos' office, and though she can't quite sense what they are doing through their shields, it could be assumed that they're still going through the news releases. 

"Anything interesting doctor?"  Diǎnrán asks, coming up behind Dr. Finos and scanning Dune for any discomfort.

"Other than the mere existence of the thing," she adds with a wry smile.

"What is interesting is that it doesn't seem to be extant, Master Jedi," Dr. Finos corrects, taking a short step to the side so she can see the holographic display more easily, which is showing a cross section of Dune's brain, at the moment. "I have scanned his head, and he is clear of any such chips. They do, clearly, exist, but he does not seem to have one. Perhaps it truly is only the later generations that have this particular technology installed. The RCs may have only been put through flash-training which emphasized the orders. Though I would still like to scan Master Senetti's men as well, to be certain." 

Diǎnrán gave a nod, "makes sense that they may have learned that the flash-training wasn't as effective or that it degraded, or that the chips were simply more cost effective for their production costs," she spat.

"I can explain your request to Knight Sage if you like, doctor, although I'm hardly qualified at medicine so if they have questions I won't be able to answer them," she admitted, "so if you'd rather nip that in the bud then perhaps it's better you explain it yourself. Otherwise I'll leave you to your work."

"Mm," she waves a hand, turning back to her work, "Mention it to them, if they have any questions they can ask me. It will be the same set of scans as I ran your Commander through." 

She gave her a nod and strode over to where she had sensed Sage's muted presence.

"The good doctor didn't find anything in Commander Dune, her hypothesis is that the earlier batches may not have had the chip but she wants to run tests on your men to make sure," she said.

"Same run of tests that the Commander went through, the only thing I worry about is losing manpower we use if we've been found out, and having to carry them with us."

She interlaced her fingers and clenched them together, resisting the urge to wring her hands.

"The longer we stay the higher chance we get found, I was actually going to suggest that once Knight Heylss arrives we leave as soon as possible for Neutral Space."