Please kindly note that this is a remix of angelrider13's fic titled: Resist Order 66. This has been written with her permission and blessing. I will be mirroring her story written in my own style.

- This story will revolve around Order 66 and how the clones go about their own way to rebel against such a command.

Of Bly, his General, and the unspoken words between them.

The jungle is serene and the quiet is only broken when his troops follow behind their General, always vigilant. They are spread out, close enough to cover one another and far enough to not see the streaks of dirt marring their white white armor.

The sun is shining.

Bly is behind his General, slightly to her right and standing alert, ready, always vigilant because they are in a hostile environment that holds unknown secrets. The General walks ahead, her lekku swaying gently, until they don't.

She had stopped their journey and as his troops came closer together as a group, Bly has a moment of clarity that in another universe, in another life, he would have found the jungle beautiful.

Then, there is nothing as something echos in his mind, overtaking his senses.

Execute Order 66.

There is no longer the jungle, no longer the blue sky, no longer the vivid green that he had grown to like during their days long journey through the wild. There is no longer his troops, his brothers, beside him. There is only his General ahead as she takes a step beyond, her back still towards him, her lekku curling at the end as if pained.

Her hands are at her side, weaponless.

His blaster suddenly feels heavy and there is a beat, two, where his brothers seem to think the same for they all look down at the weapon in their hand as if seeing them for the first time in a long time.

Execute Order 66.

He blinks and opens his mouth. Then he closes it because he is a good soldier and good soldiers follow orders. The others would understand even as something claws at his stomach and Bly swallows hard.

He thinks he said something. But it matters not because he knows that he pulls the trigger first.

The blast catches his General through the arm and there is a wild wild moment where she turns half way, her face full of mourning, of love, of sadness, and fear, that Bly's breath catches in his lungs and he can't breath-

Execute Order 66.

His breath is pushed out when his brother next to him shoots as well, catching their General in the shoulder, a through and through; he never knew Crackshot was such a poor shot.

Their General, his General, puts a hand on her wound and pulls back with wide wide eyes. Then, she is down as his brothers continue their fire. Bly loses count of how long they shoot. He doesn't want to know as his fingers automatically press the trigger again and again and the General's body jerks with every hit.

What he does know is that when he finally speaks, it is silence that greets him.

"Stop," he says when he's finally able to make sound. His voice comes out raw, as if disused, but his order is heard; his brothers obey immediately, each looking at their blaster or their hands, and Bly is certain that they are all thinking the same thing.

How could they have done this to their beloved General?

"Commander." Tyto steps up next to him and Bly has to suppress a violent urge to hit the other. "Is she- is she-?" His brother is shaking. "Is she-" he stutters again, a sob catching in his throat.

"Prep the General's fighter." Bly cuts off Tyto before the other can continue his broken words. "And someone get me Patch."

When nobody moves, he surges forward and down next to Secura, blaster forgotten, roaring, "Someone get Patch," because his General may be unmoving but he can see that all her wounds are not fatal and there is a chance, a small small chance, a hope, a small small hope, that maybe, just maybe-

He finds a pulse.

His General lives.

He isn't aware of Patch arriving until the other pries his hands away from their General. "Commander, I have to- Please let go- I have to take care of her wounds-"

He's acutely aware of other hands, shaking hands, warm hands, that pull him back from his General who lays amongst the green.

"What have we done," Tyto whispers as Crackshot throws his blaster clear across the mass of trees.

"We followed orders," is Bly's immediate response and it doesn't register with him what he said until he looks up to see the pained looks mirrored in his brothers' faces.

Yes. They followed orders because they were good soldiers, but when Patch finally sits back after eons, Bly wonders at what the cost is.

"I've done what I can," he murmurs. "But it's bad."

Bly's eyes are immediately drawn to the General's still form even as another part of him tells him to look away from the damage he had caused just moments earlier. There is a beat, two, where nobody seems to breathe.

Even the jungle is quiet.

"She can't stay here." Bly doesn't have to see to feel his men's agreement as he steps up to cradle the General's body. "She has to leave."

The General is still, so very very still, but her breathing is a distant sea, touching shore and retreating, touching shore and retreating, an old pump that keeps going; and it is this movement that propels Bly faster towards her prepped fighter; someone must have heard his orders before as the engine hummed in the silence.

His men follow behind, lost, until they halt at the look he has on his face. It is stone cold, flat, and he can see it reflect off his brothers' helmets. The message is clear. The men cannot follow him. So they pretend to clean their weapons, pretend to scout the edge of the clearing, and pretend not to see the many hands trembling or the many eyes tearing. They all pretend not to see Bly lay their General down in her seat with a tenderness that makes all their hearts ache.

The General never stirs.

Bly straps her down, double checking, then triple checking she is secure before he turns to the astromech in the backseat. "We're counting on you."

The droid beeps in affirmation, head spinning twice before it settles back front.

"Please. Keep her safe," he breathes, praying to any and all deities out there that they can hear his wants and desires. "Please."

Bly climbs down from the star fighter. The engine hums. Then he feels air behind his back as it takes off into the sky above. He doesn't look back at the speck in the distance that carries his heart.

"She's gone," he says to his brothers when he steps back within the fold.

"It's better this way," he says to Crackshot whose weapon is a mangled mess several clicks away.

"She will be safe," he says to Tyto, who looks back with red red eyes.

"She lives," he says to Patch whose frown is now a permanent marker on his face.

"May the Force be with you," he says to his General as he finally looks up to green and blue.

His General is out of reach.

Later, he marks in his report: General Aayla Secura. Dead.

A/N:

- I'm a huge Star Wars fan and this is my first time writing for this fandom. Unsure if I did this expansive universe the beauty and justice it deserves but I sure damn tried. :)

- Honestly, I started and stopped so many times during this remix. I really wanted to do the original justice but I feel like in the end, what I wrote is a let down. There are some good elements here that I'm working with but perhaps, in greater context, I could have written this better. Regardless, I am in the mindset right now to essentially: Publish or perish.

- Please excuse my rambling. It is late. Thank you for bearing with me and thank you for reading.

- Reviews are very much appreciated. Especially if you have constructive criticism.