Reunion (#3 Post-Order 66 Series)

Reunion - Part 10

Senna considered it for a moment, feeling the weight of Rex's gaze as he watched her. Finally, she bobbed her head in agreement. "Take us down, Tech. We should check it out." She leaned over his shoulder, pointing at a point on the map. "I'll bet this clearing closest to it is too small for the Marauder to set down in. Let's try this one that's a few klicks to the east, and then we'll have to hoof it from there. Shouldn't be too difficult. I hope."

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Tech was able to maneuver the Havoc Marauder down into the larger clearing Senna had identified, nudging it up under the trees to try and somewhat hide them from overhead view. Senna double-checked her datapad was charged at her hip before clipping her lightsaber to her belt. Rex had made good on his promise, tracking her down a new belt from the armory. It was a little heavier than the one she'd previously worn, but she wasn't about to complain.

The Kashyyyk air was warm and humid, but she threw a poncho on over her tunic to protect herself from the thick brush she knew they'd have to tromp through to get to the coordinates Tech had identified. Rex and the others were gearing up, armor clipping into place over their blacks. Senna smiled to herself as she watched Rex buckle his kama over his hips, his twin blasters resting at his sides. As much as she loved seeing Rex in and out of civilian clothes, he always seemed most at home in his armor, the most distilled version of himself almost as if the blue and white plastoid was a second skin. He caught her staring and tossed a wink at her that made her cheeks flush as she pulled her hood up and strode out down the Marauder's steps.

She inhaled the thick, moist air, the smell of soil and greenery filling her nostrils as a slight, warm breeze brushed her cheeks. The memories inundated her before she could stop them.

"Execute Order 66."

The message echoed over the comms, and Senna set down the wrench she'd been using to tune up the gunship's weapons calibration system, wiping sweat and grease from her brow.

"Hey Buzzer, what does that mean?" she asked, turning to one of the clone troopers standing near her. She and Buzzer had only met a few days before shipping out, but they'd quickly grown close over their passion for technology and love of good whiskey, some of which he had smuggled in with his kit. Now, Senna noted something was off as his spine straightened and he turned towards her, his dark green helmet staring at her unblinking.

"Jedi Master Senna Aven, you have committed treason and are considered a traitor against the Republic."

Her face was blank as she studied him. His presence in the Force was no longer rippling and glowing like normal. Something was wrong.

"Buzz?"

He took aim and she dove behind a stack of supply crates just as the first wave of blaster bolts cut into the ground where she'd just been crouched.

"BUZZ! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she shouted. "YOU AND I ARE FRIENDS. LET'S TALK THIS THROUGH!"

She heard footsteps behind her and whirled to find two more troopers approaching her, weapons drawn. Senna rolled under the gunship, scrambling on her hands and knees until she got to the bench on the opposite side where she'd set her lightsaber. The rocks and dirt bit into her palms, her knees scraping across the rough surface.

"CRANE! BUZZER! TRIP! COME ON GUYS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"You have committed treason and are considered a traitor. You are hereby sentenced to death." They fired again, and Senna cried out as she ignited her lightsaber, trying to send the bolts flying away from them.

"PLEASE STOP THIS!" she pleaded, tears pouring down her cheeks as she shouted. Another handful of troopers stepped around the gunships, and she realized it was a lost cause. With a final primal scream, she sent a bolt back into Buzzer's chest, and he collapsed forward over the crate he was standing behind. His brothers didn't even stop to check on him, continuing to advance forward on the Jedi that had been their friend.