It was far from over.

Raiko watched the endless lines of troopers, marvelling at how easily they seemed to move – even with the shock and the horror of battle pressing upon them. She couldn't help but notice that she was missing a great deal of her own men, the ones that had fought and survived returning heavy. Her eyes found her command leaders, Stix, Jest, and Jive, who were standing together, along with Commander Cody, and two other ranking clones she didn't recognise. Stix seemed to be in some sort of shock, and her eyes went to the scorch marks on his armour. There were far too many to count; far too many close calls. Jest was projecting his usual flippancy, but she could sense his relief underneath, his building exhaustion.

They were all far stronger than she was.

She felt it keenly now – the uselessness of her own ability and strength. She was spiralling – the ebb and flow of post-battle trauma and emotion crashing over her and weakening her resolves with every minute. The violence here wasn't just physical. She could feel it in the earth, in the people, in her soldiers. It cut deeper than plasma.

"Master Obi-Wan, Knight Omari, Master Yoda." Anakin greeted them formally, and the thrilling zing of his conquering euphoria was enough to snap her into focus. Of course her friend could find joy and triumph here. He was the ever victorious one, the hero.

"Trouble you have, with your new Padawan, I hear." Yoda cut straight to it, eyes focussing sharply on Ahsoka, who lowered her head.

"I explained the situation to Master Yoda." Obi-Wan supplied, and Raiko felt a dim surprise. She hadn't even realised a conversation had been happening around her.

"Did you really?" Anakin asked blithely, raising an eyebrow at his old master.

"If not ready for a padawan, you are, then perhaps, Obi-Wan we can-"

"No," Anakin cut in, and Raiko raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute. I admit Ahsoka is… a little rough around the edges, but, with a great deal of training and patience, she might amount to something." Raiko rolled her eyes. Not exactly a glowing review – but she saw Anakin's grudging like for the young Torgrutan. Ahsoka was practically glowing.

"Then go with you she will, to the Teth system." Yoda said mildly.

"Teth?" Raiko blurted, "That's… wildspace – the droid army isn't even in that sector."

Yoda frowned, turning away from them to hobble towards the cruiser. "Kidnapped, Jabba the Hutt's son, has been."

"You want me to rescue Jabba's son?" Anakin's voice was thick with incredulity. Raiko felt a pang of sympathy. Her friend's life had been owned and destroyed by the Hutts before he had been rescued by Qui-Gon. It would always be a sore spot for him.

"Anakin, we need the Hutt's allegiance to give us an advantage over Dooku." Raiko said gently, reaching out to touch his arm briefly, infusing gentle understanding through their bond. He lowered his gaze, scowling.

"Negotiate the treaty with Jabba, Obi-Wan will." Yoda turned to face them all again. "Find the renegades who took Jabba's son, your mission will be, Skywalker." Anakin let out a low hiss.

Ahsoka blinked up at him. "Come on, Master. I'll find Rex, and get the troops organized!" she bounced off without waiting for a reply, leaving the four of them watching her go.

Raiko turned back to Yoda slowly, dreading the answer to her question; "And me, Master? What are my orders?"

Yoda fixed her with an unreadable stare. "Until further instructions come, the 313th for now, to remain here, they are, to aid with immediate war relief. Heal and rebuild, you must. Replenish your ranks, the 212th and 501st, will."

Replenish your ranks.

Raiko felt nausea rise in her throat, and swallowed thickly. "Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan's voice came from faraway. "I'll get Cody and Rex to talk with your command unit, and arrange some troopers to interchange. I'll expect I'll be leaving most of my men here, so the process should be smoother…" Raiko nodded weakly.

Replenish.

She closed her eyes briefly.

"Thank you, Masters. If I may beg to be excused. I have some things to attend to at base." She bowed to Obi-Wan and Yoda. Thankfully, Yoda nodded – dismissing her.

Raiko practically fled, hurrying away from the pair of them – feeling their eyes on her back. She slowed her pace as she approached the group of troopers talking. Jest saw her first, and snapped a lazy salute. "General! How-" his happy greeting faltered, and he took off his helmet, as the others turned to her, all of them saluting her. Jest leant forwards slightly, frowning in worry. She could feel it radiating off of him – simple, earnest concern. Even they thought she was weak, pitiable. The knowledge didn't stop her selfish need. "Are you alright, General Omari?"

She tried for a smile, but failed. "I- I'm… I'll-" she stopped, and took a breath. "I'm sorry. Are any of you heading to base? I need to get back there. Now."

Jest's frown cleared slightly, and he looked over her head. She could feel Stix's attention on her, his own fretfulness centring on her. Cody and the two unfamiliar clones were looking between the three other men in confusion. Jive cleared his throat. "I can take her – you, ma'am, if that's alright?" his question wasn't entirely directed to her, and she heard Stix make a faint movement behind her.

"General?" Stix asked softly, and she turned to him, pulling a happier mask on her face for him. He didn't need anything else to worry about.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. For everything today." She said. She blinked back a sudden burn in the back of her eyes. "I'm thankful for all of you, actually. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't have done more. You have given so much. You're all very brave." Raiko bowed her head to them. Jest shifted in place, sending her a knowing look.

"Jive's called a transport, ma'am. We'll meet you back at base soon." Jest said.

Cody stepped forwards slightly, and she looked at him. Beyond the shield of his helmet, his emotions were also relatively guarded. But she could feel his slight confusion, his faint concern, and most surprisingly – a respect. "I'll make sure that the 212th merger happens smoothly and as quickly as possible, General Omari." He seemed like he was about to say something else, before he nodded, stepping back into place.

"Thank you." She said again, faintly.

A gunship touched down near them, Jive already heading towards the pilot, signalling something. She turned to Stix again. "Call me if you need any assistance."

"I should be alright, General." He replied instantly, straightening up.

She smiled in earnest this time, mouth pulling up despite herself. "I know you will be, Lieutenant. Gentlemen." She bowed her head to the others, and turned to leave.

Embarrassing. Unprofessional. Emotional.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

But all she felt was turmoil.

Jive shadowed her mad rush through the base – and perhaps it was a mark of how well her men knew her now, that when she neared the hospital – he cleared his throat. "He's not there, General. He was discharged as we left."

The relief she felt almost made her knees buckle, and she reached out slightly, just touching the wall to steady herself. "Oh." She said simply. "That's – that's good…"

"I believe he mentioned something about inspecting the aid supplies." Jive said quietly, stepping aside slightly so that her way down the corridor was cleared. Raiko just managed to muster a smile and projected every flimsy bit of thanks she could conjure. Her sergeant nodded to her, eyes knowing.

Raiko practically ran from the base, ignoring the tendrils of curiosity and all the other encroaching emotions that were bearing down on her as her barriers frayed and cracked. She could sense him now – practically lighting up the night with his Force signature. He was deep in thought about something, and though – as always – his emotions hit her with the force of an ocean tsunami with their depth, they were calm; none of the battle hysteria from the other men, none of the worry or pain or lingering horror from those who had passed on.

Just Clay.

He wasn't inside the cache, just outside, back to her as he examined the stars, his datapad inactive in his loose grip, helmet clipped to his hip. She wondered briefly what he was looking for, what he was thinking about.

"Clay." She called for him before she had even processed the thought, the need to see his face, to see him unharmed. He turned, a brief flare of alarm and surprise turning quickly to a pleased relief; a relief that she couldn't help but echo tenfold – and she knew he could feel it, projecting it, as her emotional barrier broke a little more. His eyes widened slightly, but he bowed his head in familiar greeting.

"General. I'm glad to see you back." She just nodded, greedily drinking him in. Clay visibly hesitated before he spoke. "Are you… alright?"

She couldn't lie anymore. "No." she breathed, and took a step closer. "I'm sorry, Clay, I'm just-"

"Overwhelmed. Exhausted." He finished, and didn't move back as she got even closer, just kept watching her with gentle eyes.

He was so good.

"What can I do?" he asked.

Raiko blinked in surprise. "I… well-" that familiar sense of guilt came back, the same one that haunted her whenever she had to take solace in somebody else's peace, someone else's stability. "Just... I mean, can I just- just rest here?" she asked weakly.

Clay watched her closely – and it was another mark of how much they had changed. There was no insecurity in his gaze now, no trace of the slight fear or indecision that he had when they had met. It had been a wonder to her, how well he had taken to being a leader – more than either of them admitted. "Of course. But what can I do?"

Raiko shrugged helplessly. He was far too intuitive. "Just be you, Clay. That's always been a cure." He said nothing else, and Raiko moved on tired legs to the outside wall of the storage unit, and slid down the cool metal until she was folded against it, hard gravel digging into her thighs. Clay stood pseudo guard, eyes moving between their surroundings, the stars, and her face; always searching.

Raiko basked in him, as she always did; but now, perhaps a little more selfishly, drinking from his aura, his strength, as she went through her own emotions; methodically, surgically dissecting and working through them and all the other feelings she'd unconsciously absorbed on the battlefield. It was the closest she got to what meditation should be, and perhaps it was that, mixed with real, bodily exhaustion that carried her to sleep.

She awoke in her own quarters the next morning – unsure how she had gotten there, but feeling better rested than she had in weeks.