This chapter is short for a reason. The next is when things will start to move, if everything goes according to plan. Thank you to all who have reviewed! It fuels me, it really does.

Keep in mind that this is short because it's a transitional thing. Things will pick up in the next chapter, I promise.

~ Sam

For hours, Coric slaved over data and diagrams. Kix's logs, test results, chemical readings, and simulations.

The information he turned up did nothing to settle his anxiety. Rex succumbed easily to the degeneration because of the wound he'd sustained earlier, but it had taken approximately a full day for the decay to set in for Kix. On the other hand, Lance had succumbed quickly. All Coric could do was chalk it up to an inexperienced immune system.

Shinies had that problem. Kamino was so sterile that the only defense against disease the clones had were rudimentary vaccinations and genetically programmed immunity. It was expected for a shiny to get a bit of a cold on their first ground mission. An initiation to cement their status.

Coric set his datapad on the desk and pulled on a filtering mask, then moved to Kix's bedside. The anxious knot twined itself tighter at the sight of Kix literally decaying before Coric's eyes. Darkened veins streaked like lightning beneath the skin below Kix's jaw, traveling upward to his left eye. When Coric pulled back the lid to check for dilation, found that the sclera had been discolored as well. They veins there were prominent and dark, as if Kix had been poisoned.

In a sense, he had. If the simulations were correct, Kix would be blind in that eye within a few hours.

The only reason it took hours at all was because of his medic 'upgrades', for want of a better term. Supplementary vaccinations, genetically strengthened systems that could keep him running in the midst of a plague. Kix had held the cellular breakdown off admirably, but this went far beyond immunity.

Kamino could fix this. Their genetic research could provide an answer within a week, could find a way to reverse the degradation. Coric himself already had plenty of methods with which to treat this, but his training and knowledge only extended so far. He was no geneticist. And then, there was the chance that they would simply purify the ranks with a purge.

And then what? Coric frowned behind the mask, a shudder passing through him and a chill following on its heels. He needed to get working.

Making sure his mask was still in place, Coric left his brother to rest and returned to his research. They were a medic down and it was only a matter of time before he too fell victim.

Fives did not consider himself to be tangled up in the mystery of fate. His life felt too thick with chance, too convoluted to accept some definitive path with an absolute ending. It seemed too… confining. Too mystical and jedi, not suited for a clone like him. Funny thing, actually. He could hardly control his life as it was. Fate... something told him he never would.

Either the jedi 'fate' was unfair, or it would never favor a mere clone. He couldn't bring himself care either way.

The ARC sat alone in the corner of the gym, watching his brothers go about their business. It smelled of familiarity and comfort, a harsh contrast to the stink of antiseptic that always lingered whenever he thought of Kamino. Kamino wasn't home, but neither was Coruscant or the Resolute. No, home was with his brothers. Even if they reek like dead banthas when they had finished up in the gym.

He'd rejected several offers already to join them for a spar, citing 'very cerebral (a word he was quite surprised he knew) ARC duties' as the cause. He was really just worrying, and perhaps sulking. As a clone, he had very little access to the mission records, or any of the files on the sickness plaguing Rex and now Kix. And as an ARC...

Wait. Of course!

Fives jumped from his seat and darted from the gym at a hurried pace toward the General's quarters. ARCs had access to more than the average trooper, be it mission reports or medical files- should the proper situation present itself. With Rex out of commission, and Ahsoka occupied with 'releasing her emotion into the Force', the General was the only one he could go to.

Surely Skywalker would understand. While the Jedi worked elsewhere, Fives could do what he did best.

He knocked on the door withe the broad side of his fist. The door swooshed open immediately to reveal a weary General Skywalker, who leaned heavily on the door jamb.

The ARC stood at attention and flashed a quick salute. "I need access," he said. Fives didn't need charm for this, he needed bluntness. He needed the General's help now.

Anakin stared blankly until Fives began to feel awkward. The faint tickle of a jedi mind probe poked at his outer subconscious. Presumably sensing the ARC's urgency, Anakin straightened, expression hardening as he realized what Fives had come here for. His eyes were suddenly lit with understanding.

"You already have access."

Fives let loose the breath he'd been holding for the duration of his staring contest with the General. He collected himself after the shock of the immediate approval and nodded vigorously in thanks. "Thank you sir. I'll get to work immediately."

Before he could walk away, Anakin's hand snapped out and took Fives by the shoulder. He reeled the ARC in and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Listen, Fives. I don't know what you intend to do with whatever you find, and I don't want to. But you need to keep it quiet. This stuff is hard on morale, and the Republic would not approve of me letting you in. My permission won't hold up in a court if you get caught. My authority only extends to the ship."

Fives swallowed at the mention of court. A military tribunal for a clone was rare because of their loyalty. When they did come about, they were immediate, severe, and the consequences were almost always reconditioning. That word still soured his tongue and left him nauseated, despite not fully knowing what it entailed.

"I understand, sir."

Another moment passed, then Anakin patted Fives' shoulder. "Good." With one last look, he backed up and let the door slide back into place, leaving Fives alone in the hallway.

Fives about-faced and headed in a brisk pace toward the research center. The spoils of their conquest would be held there for screening and processing before being sent through to the Republic. If Fives was lucky, it was still ongoing, and thus accessing it would require very little sifting and time.

At the end of the corridor was a junction that connected the lifts, officers quarters, and command deck. Fives took a hard right down the hall leading to command and halted exactly seventeen paces in. A single insignificant looking door was guarded by two of his brothers in 501st blue.

They greeted him and recognized his ARC status with an upward head tilt, which he returned in kind with a tilt of his own. He followed it with the crossing of his arms over his chest and they immediately parted form the door. It was a friendly request that also exercised authority, and the two troopers had responded swimmingly. He'd have to catch their names later.

Their brothers' code could come in handy in situations like that. A verbal request would have gone unnoticed without the express permission of an officer. Communicating in the natural way they all did was guaranteed access.

He'd been trying to teach Ahsoka for some time. It was an expression of trust, and his brothers, originally skeptical of the idea, had quickly caved and agreed to help her learn. For the Commander.

Stepping inside, Fives swept his gaze across the room. "Uh, standard security sweep," he said. "Starting with... recent mission reports. Circa, uh, a few days ago?"

The attending clerk looked up from its sorting. "Section B, isle four-seven. Please watch your step." With that, it promptly returned to its task and left Fives to search in peace.

With a silent thank you, Fives threw himself fully into the search. He found the isle and the proper terminal with ease. He accessed it with ARC passcodes and found that the General had pulled through. ARC codes could only get so far before a higher officer was required, but corresponding with his ID was Anakin's short-term permission code, which he punched into the terminal.

Mission Report ID# 33-1b-9

Accessing...

The file opened and filled the screen with a measly amount of information. A handful of vials with trace amounts of a contagion Coric had yet to identify. An incomplete set of coordinates slated for processing by Republic Intel. Fives scrolled down. Casualty log. A short report by Kix on the nature of the virus. And... wait...

What the hell...?

Beneath Kix's report was another file and Fives quickly opened it. What he found made his gut twist into a tight knot so tight he thought he'd suffocate right then and there.

TERMINATION REQUEST

It is my belief that in order to stall the spread of this decay, we must remove all clones who could potentially be carrying the disease and send what remains to Kamino for further study.

Below is an attachment of clones to start with.

CT-7567

CT-6116

CT-5597

CT-5385

CT-6264

Those were his brothers. His family. According to the stamp at the bottom, the request was pending. That meant it hadn't yet gone through to the General. It didn't calm the fear dwelling within him, but it did offer comfort. He scrolled down one more.

ARC-5555

Fives breathed in and out shakily. He scrolled up once more and penned the coordinates onto a spare piece of flimsi. He logged out of the database hurriedly and avoided the clerk entirely on his way out and ignoring the good wishes of his brothers.

This was bad. Someone in the system, someone on the ship wanted them gone. Out of the way. The General would not allow that, but what if they went straight to the Republic? If they viewed Fives and his brothers as a threat, then they would be dealt with as a threat and there was nothing the General could do. As jedi, complicated military matters such as this were not Anakin's place. He could pull strings here and there, but what would that get him?

The ARC slowed his hurried pace to a confident walk as he made his way to the lifts. He stepped inside and scrubbed his palm down his face then pinched the bridge of his nose, a shaken, rattled noise pulling itself from his throat. This was a mess. A huge, horrible mess.

The lift doors dinged and slid open to the barracks, where troopers milled about and chatted in the space between bunks. They all had a clear conscience. They worried only about the disease affecting them or their squad. They didn't know about the pending termination of their brothers and Fives would not tell them.

He couldn't burden them with the knowledge that they might be next.

Fives found his bunk and settled onto it with one arm thrown over his eyes. Adjusting for comfort with his armor, he let himself sleep. He needed to... He needed to sleep it off.

Yeah. That sounded good.

Unfortunately, sleep was not an option.

"Fives! I've been looking for you! Where'd you go?"

Fives lowered his arm and peeked through one eye at Tup, who stood bent over his bunk with his forearms resting on the railing of the top bunk for support. Fives rolled onto his side.

"ARC business, Tup," he explained vaguely. "Don't worry 'bout it."

"Yeah, yeah. I know the rules. 'ARC business stays with the ARCs'."

Fives huffed. "Oh, good. Since we've got that cleared up, maybe I can sleep now?"

Tup snickered, unaware of the events that had just transpired. In a state of blissful ignorance Fives knew wouldn't last for long. "Brother, it's only mid-cycle. I came down here to fetch you for a game in the gym. Bolo-ball."

"Bolo-ball before lunch? Really?" Fives peered up at his brother. He forced a lopsided grin. "All of Torrent or just you 'n' Jesse?"

"Torrent." Taking a seat at the edge of the bunk, Tup promptly threw himself across his brother's legs and stretched out.

"Oh- hey, ge'off! You're too heavy!"

"Am not! Are you coming or not?"

Fives' fingers got good grips on Tup's bodysuit and pull-pushed, rolling the poor trooper to the end of the bunk. Tup sat up and ducked his head to avoid hitting the underside of the top bunk. "Maybe. I told ya- ARC business."

"Yeah, but, that can wait," Tup said. His eyes widened and he looked pleading. "Please?"

Fives groaned. Tup was a suck up and a master at manipulation when it came to Fives. His most favorite, littlest brother had Fives wrapped around his finger like no other and boy, did he take advantage. Fives supposed he could use a good bolo match to ease stress. He'd made the mistake once before of turning down a game and thus missed out on a wealth of good stories to charm the ladies at 79's with.

Safe to say, those stories rarely actually worked.

"Alright, alright. I'll come. Lead the way. Bastard."

Tup smiled and together, they made for the gym.