Chapitre 13: Shadows of the Past
The days following our return to the outpost blurred together in a haze of preparation and brief moments of rest. The Republic was pushing us hard—too hard, if you asked me. There was no real time to recover, no time to reflect on what we'd been through. It was always about the next mission, the next battle. But I knew better than to question it. As a clone, as a soldier, this was the only life I'd ever known.
Spark, Lucky, and I spent most of our time in the barracks, cleaning our gear, recharging our blasters, and trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in our guts. The Republic's next push would be brutal. We all knew it. Felucia had become a battlefield soaked in the blood of clones and droids alike, and the fighting wasn't letting up anytime soon.
"Got everything squared away?" I asked, glancing over at Spark as he meticulously checked the sights on his sniper rifle.
"Almost," he muttered, his voice low. "The scope's been giving me trouble. Doesn't lock in like it used to."
Lucky, who was sitting on the edge of his bunk, gave a tired grin. "Maybe it's not the scope. Maybe you're just getting old, Spark."
Spark shot him a look but didn't reply. The banter between us had always been there—an unspoken way of dealing with the constant threat of death. But recently, it felt more strained, like the weight of our losses was catching up with us. Maybe it was.
I sighed, standing up from my own bunk and grabbing my helmet. "I'm heading out for a bit. Just need to clear my head before the briefing."
Spark glanced at me but didn't say anything. He didn't need to. We all understood the need for space, for a few moments of quiet before another mission.
The outpost was quiet as I walked through its corridors, the dull hum of generators and the faint chatter of troopers filling the air. The sun was setting, casting the world in shades of orange and gold. It was almost peaceful—if you could ignore the war raging just beyond the horizon.
I found myself wandering toward the edge of the outpost, where the tall cliffs overlooked the battlefield below. From up here, you could see the vast expanse of Felucia stretching out in every direction—an alien landscape of towering fungal trees and twisted plants, bathed in the fading light of the setting sun. It was beautiful in its own strange way, but I knew what lay hidden beneath that beauty: death. Endless, senseless death.
The memories of our last mission weighed heavily on me. I could still hear the sounds of blaster fire, the explosions, the desperate shouts of my brothers. Tread, Gear, Pax—they were gone, and I had led them to their deaths. It didn't matter that we had completed the mission. It didn't matter that we had survived. Their faces haunted me.
As I stood there, staring out over the battlefield, a voice from behind pulled me from my thoughts.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, Sergeant."
I turned to see General Kaidan, the Jedi commander assigned to our sector. His presence caught me off guard—Jedi weren't known for making small talk with clones, especially not ones like me. But Kaidan wasn't like other Jedi. He had a reputation for being more involved with his troops, more aware of the burdens we carried.
"General," I said, standing at attention. "Just… taking a moment."
He nodded, stepping up beside me to look out over the cliffs. His blue robes fluttered slightly in the breeze, and his lightsaber hung loosely at his side, a reminder of the power he wielded. But there was something different about Kaidan. He wasn't like the other Jedi I'd served with—detached, distant. He seemed… human, for lack of a better word.
"I know the look you're carrying, Sergeant," he said after a moment, his voice calm. "The weight of command is heavy. It never gets easier."
I glanced at him, unsure of what to say. How could he understand? He was a Jedi—trained to deal with the burden of life and death. But I was just a clone, bred for war, for following orders. I wasn't supposed to feel this way. I wasn't supposed to question the decisions I made.
"You've lost brothers," Kaidan continued, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. "I've seen it in every unit I've commanded. The guilt, the doubt—it stays with you. But it's not something you have to carry alone."
I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the flood of emotions that had been building up inside me since Geonosis. I wasn't supposed to feel this way. I wasn't supposed to let it get to me. But it did. Every time.
"They followed my orders," I said quietly, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "They trusted me to get them through. And now they're gone."
Kaidan was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he spoke, his voice softer this time.
"They followed your orders because they believed in you, Sergeant. They knew the risks, just as you did. But the burden of leadership is not in the lives we lose—it's in the strength we find to keep going, even after the losses."
I stared at him, unsure of how to respond. How could he understand? He wasn't one of us. He wasn't a clone, born to fight and die in a war he had no say in.
But as I looked into his eyes, I realized something. Kaidan wasn't just speaking from a place of authority—he was speaking from experience. He had lost people, too. Jedi, clones, friends. This war had taken its toll on him, just as it had on all of us.
"Command has given me your next orders," Kaidan said, his tone shifting back to that of a commander. "You and your squad will be deployed in a few hours. We've got intel on a key Separatist position in the southern sector. It's heavily fortified, but if we can take it, we can cripple their operations in this region."
I nodded, my mind snapping back to the reality of the situation. Another mission. Another fight. Another chance to lose more brothers.
"Understood, General," I said, forcing the weight of my emotions back into the recesses of my mind.
Kaidan placed a hand on my shoulder, a gesture that caught me off guard. "You're a good leader, Vine. Your brothers trust you. Don't forget that."
I watched as he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the outpost. The sun had almost set now, and the darkness was creeping in around me. But even as I stood there, alone on the cliff's edge, the weight of Kaidan's words lingered on my mind.
— Un nouveau chapitre arrive bientôt — Écrire un avis
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
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