The Runaways

Mission Begins

*20 BBY, Space/No-name Planet*

 Spitfire and I sat in the corner of the ship, speaking in Twi'leki so that no one could understand us.

"I bet Skywalker had a vision about their child." Spitfire's eyes were wide.

"I bet it was about them getting caught!" We swapped guesses back and forth until we exited hyperspace. I stood to address the clones. "Alright men. Our mission is to accompany and protect Senator Amidala as she meets with various government officials in the Galaxy. Keep the drinking/dancing to a minimum until it is appropriate."

"What about the girls?" Crack-up had his hands in the air.

"Crack-up." I shook my head. "No girls." He hung his head. "Sorry about that."

"No worries!" The senator looked out the cockpit as we landed on a planet (of which I did not know the name, it was not disclosed in my briefing). The air was crisp and clean. Trees dropped their leaves onto the ground as the sun set. I smiled. It was gorgeous! We stood outside the walls of their capital city. We were checked in by the guards at the entrance. Each of the clones had to take off their helmets to verify their identity. All the same, yet so incredibly different. Spitfire looked handsome in the light that a sunset cast onto his face.

"Droid stays out." The guard shook me from my thoughts. R-9 made a sad noise. I shushed him and sent him back to the ship. Once inside, Senator Amidala found many people to talk to. This was some sort of formal dinner/dance designed and planned around current political events. We were there to protect Senator Amidala. Though things didn't seem tense, we stayed within ear and eyeshot. Many other people were here with guards, both Republic supporters, and Separatists. Everyone stayed polite, quiet, and kind. Every separatist we passed spiked anger, fear, and hurt. I tried my best to shove away these thoughts.