Sgt. Blinder's unit took shifts on their missions, leaving one man to stay behind with the child and the ship. This time, that duty fell upon Blackeye, a seasoned warrior who'd earned his name from the burn scar covering his left eye.
"You know," he muttered to himself, watching the little girl play on the floor of the gunship, "I've heard that girls mature faster than boys, but this is ridiculous."
The female clone had matured from infant to toddler in the course of a few months. She was dressed in a patchwork of old and stolen uniforms—pieces of cloth crudely stitched together by men who couldn't sew. She had the same dark hair, brown eyes and olive skin as the other clones, and her facial structure was similar to theirs even at her current age. Unlike her fellow clones, however, she didn't have a name.
"I mean, come on. We weren't trained for this."
The girl looked up from her toy made of woven wires and smiled at him. All he could do was wave back, as he still wore his helmet. Then she resumed playing, and Blackeye's com beeped and blinked.
He answered the transmission. "How'd it go, Sergeant?"
"Mission complete," Blinder replied. "We're heading back to the ship. Make sure the cadet follows the protocol."
Blackeye looked at the toddler on the gunship floor. "Right away, sir." He ended the transmission, then stood up and approached the girl. "All right, kid. Time to go dark."
She looked at him, upset. "But—"
"Orders from the sergeant."
The soldier put down his gun for a moment, then picked up the girl. She didn't protest as he crossed the gunship with her and placed her in an empty ammo crate. She did, however, drop her wire toy. Blackeye retrieved it and placed it in the crate with her.
"You know the protocol," he told her, attaching a rebreather to her face.
"Stay quiet, stay hidden, stay alive," she recited.
The Trooper nodded. Then he closed the crate, retrieved his gun, and exited the ship to stand guard and lookout.
After a while, he saw his black-armored squadmates approach. It seemed it would be another smooth extraction. But then a wild creature native to the planet—some cross between an insect and a giant serpent, with multiple sets of spindly legs on its elongated body and a mouth with both pincers and fangs—sprang up from the ground. It appeared and sounded quite aggravated.
Blinder shouted, "Open fire!" and the clones opened fire at the unexpected enemy. Blue lasers streaked across the terrain, creating sparks as they struck the creature's exoskeleton. Aggravated further, the beast thrashed its head against the gunship.
Blackeye turned to the beast. "Oh no, you don't!"
He fired at the creature's eye. The shot found its mark, but this only caused the beast more irritation. It thrashed the ship with its head again, toppling it over with the little girl inside.
The unit stopped by the toppled ship, joining Blackeye. There wasn't time to check on the cadet, for the beast roared and attacked the clones. The men continued to fire as it caught one soldier in its pincers and swallowed him whole.
"Blast it!" Blinder spat. "Our position will be compromised at this rate!"
Behind the soldiers, the little girl climbed out of the gunship, still wearing her rebreather and holding a tactical knife that held an electric charge. In her other hand she held her toy, which she threw at the creature. The beast spotted her and lunged, and she jumped out of the way and landed on the ground, scraping her arms and knees.
She stood up, holding the knife before herself. But she was yet untrained and knew not the proper method with which to hold a knife. The beast looked at her again and roared, then prepared to lunge.
"Cadet!" Blinder yelled, both angered and alarmed. "Get out of the way!"
But the girl was suddenly frightened and unable to move. Acting quickly, the sergeant lunged in front of her and took the knife from her. In the same instant, he turned to the creature, knife in hand, and stabbed its pallet the moment it was upon him. The creature screamed. Blinder withdrew the knife, and the creature died.
The soldiers all lowered their weapons and turned to their sergeant, apprehensive as the S.O. turned to the cadet and removed his helmet to glare at her.
"You were supposed to stay on the ship," Blinder growled, still holding the knife.
"The unit was in trouble," said the cadet. "I just wanted to help."
"That doesn't make it okay to break protocol!" He ignored her flinch. "You weren't ordered to engage the enemy. You were ordered to stay on the ship—to stay hidden. Good soldiers follow orders, cadet. So unless I give you permission to break protocol, you follow the damn protocol. Is that clear?"
The child bowed her head. "Yes, sir."
Blinder turned to his men. "Let's get the ship up and running!" he ordered. "Our position could be compromised at any moment."
"Yes, sir!"
***
Roughly a year went by, and in that time the cadet had matured from a toddler to a ten-year-old. Blinder and his men had trained her in their spare time, teaching her to use both gun and blade. On her own time, having nothing to do aboard a gunship but practice her knife-wielding skills, she trained herself to use computers, hack into secure networks and repair damaged hardware. With permission from the sergeant, she now accompanied her unit on certain missions, sometimes providing navigation support from the ship, other times entering the fray with her fellow clones.
For now, though, the unit was transferring to a new assignment, and the cadet was following protocol.
The gunship docked in a Republic cruiser. As the pilot switched off the engine, the cadet, wearing her rebreather, folded herself into a large ammunition crate. While the men took a quick reprieve and Blinder went to the bridge to receive his orders, the cadet waited inside her box, staying quiet, staying hidden.
An hour passed, then two. She began to feel cramped inside the crate, and hungry. This wasn't the longest she'd had to go dark—she'd once stayed in the crate for a full rotation—but that didn't make her any less irritable. Still, she stayed quiet and waited for the all-clear.
The signal finally came in the sound of someone pounding on her crate—twice on the lid, once on the side. Accepting the signal, she pushed the lid open, then sat up and stretched. The gunship was already in hyperspace.
"Took you long enough," she joked, removing her rebreather.
She got out of the crate, reset the lid and sat down. Then her stomach growled. Blackeye gave her a ration and she ate it heartily. As she ate, Blinder briefed the unit on their upcoming mission, his helmet tucked under his arm.
"This mission is strictly reconnaissance," he said. "Scout and map the area, then report our findings to General Windu. And we'll be going in blind. Meaning no holomaps, no coms, and no blasters."
"Low-tech?" one clone retorted. "That'll make this pretty difficult."
"We'll need to make it work," said Blinder. "Doing anything that might give away our location will compromise the mission. We can't afford to make any light or noise." He looked at each of his men in turn, then at the cadet, who had just finished her ration. "In other words, this time, we all need to follow the protocol."
"Stay quiet, stay hidden, stay alive," the cadet recited.
"Exactly." He looked at the soldiers. "Everyone got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
The unit prepared for the mission, temporarily discarding their blasters for simple, metal blades. The cadet was given her own set of knives, which she strapped to her person with skill, as well as a night-vision visor. She was dressed in black like the rest of the unit, though she was unarmored and her uniform was patchwork. She also preferred to keep her hair short, hanging just above her shoulders, so that it wouldn't get in the way when fighting.
When she was ready for the mission, the cadet turned to her sergeant.
"Sir, can I ask you something?"
Blinder looked at her. "Go ahead."
"How come I don't have a name?" It was a matter that had been weighing in her mind for a year, and the Troopers were not surprised by it. "You guys all have names, so why don't I have one?"
"You didn't give yourself one," said Blinder. At her confused look, he explained, "As clones, we're given numbers. That's how the Kaminoans identify us. But just because we're all cloned from the same person, doesn't mean we're all the same."
"Giving ourselves names is how we identify ourselves," said Blackeye. "It makes us soldiers, not just clones."
"So it's like a rite of passage?" asked the cadet.
"More or less," said Blinder. Then he shrugged and grinned. "So? What do you want us to call you?"
She thought it over, casually flipping and twirling one of her knives. When it came to her, she stopped flipping the knife and grinned.
"Blade."
The sergeant's grin widened. "Sounds good to me."
The rest of the unit approved. Then the ship came out of hyperspace and the pilot announced their ETA.
"All right, everyone," said Blinder, donning his helmet. "Remember to follow the protocol."
The Troopers nodded, as did Blade.
"Stay quiet, stay hidden, stay alive," she recited.
"And stay alert," the sergeant added.
With that, the ship landed and he led his unit into the fray.