ARC-5555: A Star Wars Story

Chapter 1: Refuge

One should always consider the consequences of their actions before making a rash decision.

Galactic City, Coruscant; three standard years after the Battle of Geonosis, six months before Order 66

   Keep moving. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop.

   That was all that could break through the fog the drugs created. Panic and near- overwhelming adrenaline kept Fives stumbling through the streets of Coruscant.

   He felt like he would collapse from exhaustion at any moment. But he had to keep going. Even with all those ignorant civilians shoving past him, shooting him dirty looks, even when he knew it was just because he was a clone. They tended to not be very popular with the citizens of Coruscant.

   Fives braced himself against the rails of the walkway, letting the sound of traffic wash over him. He didn't want to think about the chips, or the Jedi, or the Chancellor, or anything else. He wanted to lie down and just forget the whole thing. Maybe wake up in the barracks to find out it was all just a bad dream.

   He closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting. A taxi arrived at one of the platforms, music booming from the speakers.

   Fives opened his eyes. The taxi gave him an idea.

   If he could get a ride to 79's...but who would even be there that he could trust?

   The rest of the 501st would most likely have gotten back from Ringo Vinda by now. He might be able to find Jesse or Kix at the bar. Maybe Rex, too, if he was lucky. But the captain was never one to hang around 79's unless he was pulling one of his men–usually Fives–out of a scrape.

   Still, he wagered it was worth a shot. Fives pushed off the railing and made his way towards the platform.

   Two female Twi-lek stepped out of the cab. "Here you go." One of them gave the driver a few credits.

   "Thank you, ladies," he said. "Have a good time on Coruscant, now."

   "Thank you!" They replied at the same time, giggling as they walked into a store that looked exclusively for females.

   Fives glanced at the bizarre items of clothing on display as he stepped into the cab.

   "Heya, pal. Where to?"

   "Take me to 79's," he said, leaning his arm against one of the side doors.

   "The clone bar?" The driver looked back at him and chuckled. "Oh, you're a clone, huh?"

   "Look, just shut up and drive."

   "Okay, you got it."

   Fives took a deep breath, willing his stomach to stay put as the driver sped off into late-night Coruscanti traffic. He rubbed his neck, trying to relax. The radio blared some fast-talking garbage. He hated rap.

   "So, headin' out for a little fun on the town?" He didn't much care for taxi drivers, either. "Eh, I didn't know clones could have fun."

   "There's a lot you don't know about clones," he snapped. "No one knows..."

   "Ooh, very mysterious, eh? I like a good mystery."

   "Yeah?" Fives could feel himself getting angry all over again. "You ever hear the one about the people engineered to kill, engineered to kill their best friends, their leaders, and they don't even know it?"

   The driver laughed. "I'm a cab driver, pal. I hear stories like that all the time!"

   Fives shook his head, knowing it was pointless to argue. Even if the taxi driver understood– which he obviously didn't–it wasn't like it would make a difference. What could a taxi driver do to stop the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic from destroying the Jedi?