He was supposed to be a medic.

Saving his brothers was what he did, whether that was from a separatist attack, or in the aftermath of one of them deciding to try something undeniably stupid in what free time they did have. Usually in order to try impress some of the younger shinies.

Hearing "watch this" by now could essentially be translated into "get a medipac ready Kix".

…It always seemed to be the same brothers too, with a penchant for getting themselves into trouble.

But he was good at being a medic; it was what he did best. Sure, he could scrap a clanker in a battle if it came to it, but he'd much rather focus on making sure as many brothers as possible actually made it through that battle, even if he had to physically haul them out of it.

That feeling when you saved someone declared as good as dead, helped them make it through just one more day, thanks or no thanks, well, nothing could ever come close to beating that feeling for Kix.

But sometimes…sometimes you can't save everyone. Sometimes that stray blaster shot missed the heart but hit a lung, sometimes that bit of falling debris crushed their spine and sometimes he just didn't get their fast enough, couldn't get their fast enough because not once in his entire career has there ever been a shortage of brothers needing his help on a warzone.

Sometimes you just have to watch as yet another trooper, always another trooper dies, and all you can do, is your best to make ensure that they don't suffer, that they go as peacefully as anyone can in the middle of a war.

He was supposed to be a medic.

He was supposed to stop that happening whenever he could, make a good, positive difference.

He was not supposed to be on an execution squad.

"Line up the prisoners!"

Kriff all of this!

Kix respected the Jedi Order, he really did, weird as some of their ways may be, and he greatly respected General Skywalker, as while Skywalker's reckless behaviour would often put those under command in danger, when he did he would always at least be right there with them in the front lines facing the exact same danger as all of his men!

And most of all, General Skywalker treated them like actual sentients. People. He would not have them walk for 12 hours without rest until they were all just about ready to drop, he would not ignore everything any of them had to say and he would not treat them like disposable objects worth less than droids!

The very worst thing that the General had done, had almost done to a clone was try cauterising a wound with a ligthsaber after a certain idiot, who he wished was just a naïve shiny and not a full-fledged RNC trooper that really should know better, had convinced him that was a good idea, and even then Kix had managed to get involved in time to say how no, no it really wasn't.

"Will the prisoners request to be blindfolded?"

None of this would have happened if General Skywalker was here, none of this would have happened if he hadn't been called back to Coruscant.

But he wasn't here, and this was happening.

Krell was in command here now, and what he'd done with that authority was order brothers to execute brothers for doing what was right, blowing up that ship that Krell should have given the order to blow up himself!

"I'll take that, as a no."

And Kix wanted to say no too, he wanted to throw down his weapon and say how this was wrong, all of it was wrong!

"Ready weapons!"

But he couldn't, because if he did then chances are he would be put right up there with Fives and Jesse. And he couldn't allow that to happen, not because of any particular fear for his own life, that risk was an accepted part of his everyday line of duty, but because with Krell being more than happy to use reckless tactic after reckless tactic the rest of the troops needed him now more than ever, they needed a medic, and if he died…who knows how many others he'd inadvertently take with him.

So no. He couldn't. He couldn't…he couldn't save Fives and Jesse, not if he wanted any chance of saving anyone else.

He couldn't prioritise them over an entire legion.

He couldn't.

Krell would show no mercy…

"Aim!"

…But maybe he could.

Because he was a medic. And when a medic can't save someone then… then the best they can do, must do, is make sure that they don't suffer, that they go as peacefully as anyone can during a war.

So he took aim.

His brothers knew how to kill clankers, shoot them anywhere in the body or head and chances are they'd go down. But with organics it wasn't so simple, with organics there's no guarantee any of them knew exactly where to hit in order to make a good, clean shot.

To make sure that it was all over in an instant.

He did, he could identify all the exact places to hit right down to the arteries and from his precision developed from work doing the very opposite of this he felt he had a decent chance of making such a shot.

Hence why the barrel of his blaster was pointed directly at the head of the brother standing in front of him, Jesse. It would go right through and he would be dead before he hit the ground.

He would feel nothing.

And if…if Fives…wasn't…clean…after he could fi…he-

Fives. Typical Fives. Making a speech now, trying to convince them how this was wrong. But Kix couldn't listen, wouldn't listen.

Couldn't Fives see? They knew this was wrong! All of them! He couldn't think of one trooper who wanted to do this, even Dogma was just carrying out orders that he felt must be followed. But there was nothing they could do about Krell, about any of this but make it quick!

Not until the General got back. When the General got back he would be one of the very first to tell him everything.

They wouldn't die for nothing.

But, by the force, please let this be a clean shot. Please don't make them suffer any more than they already have to!

Please!

"Fire!"

And so he did.