"Get up, princesses! This isn't Kamino!" Johnson shouted as the clones woke up startled, soaked and still exhausted. Forge gave them no respite, shouting orders and pushing them out of the barracks.
With no time to react, they were ordered to put on all their combat gear - helmet, armor, heavy backpacks and weapons - and start running in formation. In the middle of the night, with no rest or opportunity to adapt, the clones were forced to run in line under the strict gaze of the instructors.
"Faster, faster! A damn bantha runs better than you!" Johnson shouted, running alongside them and continuing to humiliate them. Some clones began to stagger, exhausted, while others stumbled under the weight of the equipment.
Forge added to the punishment by setting up a series of brutal exercises: they were made to crawl in the mud, climb walls, and crawl under a hail of live ammunition. The clones had to stay alert at all times, feeling the whistling of the real bullets above their heads, making it clear that any mistake would be fatal.
"There is no room for error on the battlefield!" Forge shouted, while Johnson walked along the line, aiming his own rifle and making sure everyone felt the pressure. "You want to survive the Covenant?! Then you better start behaving like real soldiers!"
Rex, Echo, and Fives, although also exhausted, managed to stand with greater resilience and focus on the instructions, observing the chaos with a mixture of disbelief and resignation.
After an exhausting night of brutal drills and simulations, the clones were finally released to rest. They barely managed to sleep for two hours, when the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon, and the sound of heavy boots echoed in the hallway.
Once again, Sergeant Johnson, with his cigar in his mouth, and Sergeant Forge, accompanied by several marines, stormed the barracks without mercy.
"Up, princesses! Rest is over! There's no time to sleep in a war!" Johnson shouted, while the marines turned on lights and used flashlights to dazzle the still disoriented clones.
Forge, without wasting a second, issued a series of orders: "Teams ready in five minutes! I want to see them out, armed and lined up in the field! The real soldiers would already be ready to fight!"
Some clones, still staggering and eyes barely open, were desperately trying to put on their boots and gear as they listened to the drill instructors' relentless orders. Amidst the murmurs and complaints, Rex, Echo, and Fives immediately stood up, knowing that any delay would only make things worse.
"Come on, guys, we've been through worse," Rex said quietly, trying to motivate his companions as he adjusted his helmet.
Johnson, watching them with a mix of satisfaction and sternness, issued one last warning before letting them march out into the field: "There's no room for weaklings here! Every day you survive, you should see it as a gift! Now get moving, before I decide to give you something worse!"
With that threat, the clones quickly filed out of the barracks, forming lines with their exhausted bodies and waiting for the next orders.
Johnson watched the clones with his trademark cigar between his teeth, a smirk on his face as he watched their slow, uncoordinated movements. "Even my granny would do it faster than you, and my granny must be like 200 years old! Move it, you fucking sons of bitches!" he shouted, enjoying every second of the clones' agony.
Without much else to say, Johnson gestured forward, indicating that it was time to start jogging. Forge, who was walking beside him, began to explain the purpose of the day as the clones jogged along in full gear, backpacks and armor weighing on their shoulders.
"Listen up, clones," Forge began, his tone stern. "Today you're going to learn what it means to work as a team. Without coordination, you're a filler troop. Without communication, you're dead in the field. I want to see you moving as one unit! That means no heroics and no running around like headless chickens. Either you cooperate, or the Covenant will tear you apart effortlessly!"
As they moved toward the war zone, a few clones exchanged nervous glances. Rex, Echo, and Fives remained silent, serious, but with determination on their faces.
As they arrived at the war zone, the clones saw the simulators set up. The scenario was brutal: a training field filled with obstacles, barricades, and moving targets, as well as a system that fired low-power projectiles in all directions. This simulator would not only test their ability to work as a team, but also to adapt quickly to critical situations.
Forge gave one last warning as he activated the simulator. "If you want to get out of here and see some food, you better complete this journey in less than 15 minutes. Every second you lose is a soldier down!"
The clones rushed onto the stage, trying to remember their directions. However, chaos soon took over. They stumbled, scattered, and at several points, some were caught under simulated fire. Rex, Echo, and Fives tried to reorganize their teammates, but the lack of coordination among the other clones was evident.
Johnson, from an observation post, watched the whole spectacle with an annoyed expression. "You look like a bunch of amateurs! Move as a team! Stop being idiots!"
Time passed, and few clones managed to even get close to the target. When the 15 minutes were up, Johnson and Forge deactivated the simulator, and silence fell over the war zone.
Forge looked at the clones with disdain. "If this were a real battle, you'd all be dead."
"And you better think about that before you get into a fight," Johnson added, his tone mocking but serious. "Now, come on! Make that breakfast worth it!"
With a mix of humiliation and determination, the clones left the war zone, heading towards the mess hall.
Rex, Echo, and Fives were sitting in the mess hall, using bits of their food ration to recreate the simulator terrain on the table. They were talking quietly, going over every mistake they had seen in the first practice, trying to find a way to improve their performance as a team.
"We need some basic organization if we want to survive the next practice," Fives muttered, tracing lines with a thick porridge that simulated the field.
"Yeah," Echo replied, pointing a piece of bread at an area that represented cover. "The problem is that we're spread out. If we continue without cover and strategy, we'll get mowed down again and again."
At that moment, a clone joined them, wearing a frustrated expression. "This is crazy, we're all rubbish in combat compared to those marines. Have you seen how they move? We're slow, clumsy... it seems like they're years ahead."
Rex, who had been silent, nodded. "True, but it's something we can change. If we stop thinking like individuals and start moving as a team, we can do so much more. Everyone has skills. If we train together, we adapt. We can't do it alone, but together... we can improve."
Hearing Rex's words, more clones from other tables began to approach. One by one, they formed a small group around the table, interested in what their fellow veterans were discussing.
Rex looked at the group and continued, "Listen, we're not here to make fools of ourselves. These guys are going to beat the shit out of us if we keep this up. I want us to work in small groups, moving forward in line and using cover. That'll confuse the enemy and allow us to slowly gain ground."
"The important thing is not to be lone heroes," Fives added. "If we see someone under fire, we go and cover. If someone goes down, we make an organized retreat. No running without a plan."
The group nodded, some clearly inspired and others still a little nervous, but they all knew that the only way to get through this training was to support each other.
"Remember this," Rex finished firmly, "this isn't a game. We're being trained to face the Covenant, and they have no mercy. So, if we want to get through this, it's time to put pride aside and start working for real."
The clones nodded, their faces showing renewed determination.
Meanwhile, in the operations room, Forge and Johnson were reviewing the simulation recordings with Anakin, Aayla Secura, and Arnet. The images showed a mess: clones falling into ambushes, moving uncoordinatedly, and failing to execute basic tactics. Frustration was palpable in the air.
Anakin watched with a frown, clearly disappointed. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us," he said in a serious tone, his dismay undisguised.
Johnson, as usual, did not mince words. "To be frank, they're all a mess," he said with a mix of irony and brutal honesty, "but Echo, Fives, and Rex... those three really know what they're doing." Johnson pointed to the recording in which the three clones moved with precision, covering each other and using cover intelligently. "These know how to move. They don't follow the blind chaos of their companions; what they need is to learn how to make the rest of the squad follow them."
Arnet watched the recording with a serious expression before nodding. "Johnson, Forge, we need to transform these clones. Mix them in with a group of Marines; I want them to see how a coordinated team works, move like a real unit. Teach them tactics, precise movements, deployments in urban environments. None of this is optional."
Forge nodded. "We can handle them, Admiral. We're going to instill in them the discipline and teamwork they lack. I'll have their training focus on tactical maneuvers, see if they learn something from us."
Johnson leaned forward, his typical sarcastic air coming through. "If we can stop these clones from killing each other, we'll have come a long way," he said. Then, with a wry smile, he added, "We're going to show them what it's like to move like real soldiers. This is going to hurt, but believe me, after this training, even Covenant bullets are going to seem soft to them."
Arnet nodded, ending the meeting. "Perfect. Get to work, I want to see results. The efficiency of these soldiers is crucial to the survival of the Republic... and of themselves."
After a while, the clones returned to the war zone with a different attitude. Rex, Echo and Fives had managed to inspire a sense of unity and determination in them. The clones formed up, ready to face the next test, although their nervousness was evident.
The door opened, and Johnson appeared in his combat armor, imposing, escorted by a platoon of battle-hardened marines. The presence of Johnson and his men broke any glimmer of security among the clones.
"Listen carefully, you damn rookies!" Johnson roared, his voice clear and authoritative. "I'll be in the simulation with you, and these men," he said, gesturing to his platoon, "are going to teach you how this is done. Every step, every bullet, and every tactic you see is not just a whim. It's your survival manual. So watch, learn, and don't stray from your squad, because I promise you, if you do, you'll die quickly."
Outside, Forge stood on the command platform with the other instructors and support team. "While Johnson deals with combat, I'll explain every tactic and movement. Watch how Johnson's team works: coordination, mutual protection, use of cover, how they take up strategic positions. This isn't Kamino. It's not enough to just move forward and shoot. Every move has to be thought out."
Johnson and his platoon stood in the simulation alongside the clones, who watched with respect and attention. As soon as the mission began, Johnson led the attack, pinpointing cover and directing his men in a coordinated advance maneuver. The Marines covered every angle, taking advantage of every vantage point as they moved forward in formation.
"Get your asses moving, clones!" Johnson shouted amid the chaos. "Cover your mates, don't expose yourselves like a bunch of sitting ducks!"
Forge commented from the control room, pointing out the Marines' maneuvers on the screens. "See how Johnson secures cover before moving forward? That's the difference between a dead soldier and one who survives. Take advantage of cover and teamwork. It's not just shooting and moving; it's knowing when and how to move together."
The simulation progressed, and little by little, the clones began to pick up on the Marines' rhythm and tactics. The influence of Rex, Echo, and Fives was clearly visible, moving with the same precision and, in some cases, beginning to coordinate with Johnson's platoon, executing maneuvers with fewer errors.
The simulation would not be easy, however. New waves of enemies emerged from every corner, and Johnson showed no mercy. Any mistake by the clones was quickly pointed out with a shout and an order to improve, keeping the pressure and the standard high.
By the end of the first round, the clones had learned more in a single day than in several months of their standard training.
They spent the entire day in intensive training, every moment under the strict supervision of Johnson and Forge. Rex, Echo, and Fives led the other clones, teaching them to implement the tactics they had learned: proper cover, team advancement, and clear communication. The clones were exhausted, but they knew they were about to face the ultimate test. Johnson had been clear: either they completed the simulation in less than 15 minutes, or there would be no rest that night.
Simulation Start
The countdown began, and as soon as the holograms activated, the battlefield transformed into a devastated city. Debris, overturned vehicles, and collapsed structures formed a maze in which the clones would have to move quickly and as a team. Johnson was watching from the control room, observing their movements.
Rex, taking command, divided the group into squads. "Team A, cover! Team B, flank on the right side! Echo, Fives, move with me!" Rex shouted, confidently taking command.
The clones, although still somewhat clumsy, moved quickly in their assigned formations. Some stumbled on debris, others lost sight of their companions for moments, but quickly corrected themselves, remembering the coordination tactics.
First five minutes
The first wave of enemies appeared: a group of Grunts and Jackals advancing in a tight formation. Fives gave the signal, and the clones opened fire in waves, each team covering the others. The Jackals activated their energy shields, weathering the first shots. The clones, instead of scattering as they would have done before, held formation and adjusted their firing angles to overcome the shield defense.
"Move flanks and surround the Jackals! Aim for the sides!" Echo ordered, and several clones flanked the Jackals, taking them down from the sides where the shields were weakest.
Second third of the simulation
With ten minutes remaining, the simulation ramped up the difficulty. Two Elites armed with plasma rifles appeared and began attacking the center squad. The clones responded clumsily at first, but Rex quickly regrouped them.
"Divert them into the alleys, don't allow them the space to attack head-on!" Rex shouted. Although some clones stumbled and lost their way, the group managed to lure the Elites into a narrow hallway where their movements were limited. There, the cover team and flanking team coordinated by Fives opened fire, managing to reduce the Elites.
The training was beginning to take effect. Fatigue and pressure were evident on some faces, but so was the improvement in their coordination and response.
Final five minutes
There were five minutes left, and one last group of enemies was deployed: a group of Elites, accompanied by Grunts armed with plasma throwers. This would be the biggest challenge. Rex, Echo, and Fives knew the key was to use cover and keep the fire concentrated.
"Support team, keep the rear safe! Advance team, hold the Elites!" Echo ordered as the clones took up positions in the rubble and collapsed structures to cover their flanks.
As the Elites tried to advance, the cover team kept them at bay with steady, coordinated fire. Some clones made minor mistakes, but the team coordination was working. Fives told them when to fire in intervals, keeping the fire continuous and accurate to overwhelm the Elites.
A Grunt managed to sneak through the ranks and threw a plasma grenade into the center of the squad. Several clones dodged out of the way, but one didn't react in time, and Rex dragged him out of the blast at the last second. The simulation was running against time, but the team managed to maintain their composure.
End of simulation
With only seconds left on the clock, the clones made a final push, concentrating fire on the last group of Elites. The simulation lights went out, and Johnson's voice boomed over the speakers.
"Fourteen minutes, forty seconds... Well done!" he announced. The clones, exhausted and panting, smiled with relief and pride. They had made the necessary time, and while there were mistakes, it was clear that teamwork and tactics were rapidly improving.
"You've done something decent today," Johnson said with a mix of approval and firmness. "You've shown that you can learn something. But don't get too excited; this was just the beginning."
Anakin came alongside Arnet to stand beside Johnson and Forge, watching the end of the simulation. Although Anakin was smiling in satisfaction at the progress, Johnson quickly put him in his place.
"Don't get so excited, General," Johnson said, looking at the exhausted clones who, though they had given it their all, still had a lot of room for improvement. "Your boys are just learning the basics. This is just a low-level simulation, and they're already crawling around like they just ran a marathon."
Anakin frowned slightly, aware of the reality but still optimistic. "True, but the clones have come a long way in a short time. They didn't even know how to coordinate proper tactics before."
Forge nodded, though his expression was grim. "Yes, but that doesn't mean they're ready. In a real battle with the Covenant, these clones would drop like flies if we couldn't get them to maintain discipline under heavy fire."
Arnet crossed his arms and looked at Anakin. "This is a process, Skywalker. The good news is that, for today, they've shown some resolve. We'll give them tonight to rest... they've earned it."
Anakin nodded, understanding that they still had a lot of work ahead of them. "Shall we give them a break, then?"
"A break," Johnson confirmed. "But don't let them get used to it. They'll suffer tomorrow."
The clones, hearing permission to rest, could hardly believe it. Some dropped to the ground, while others staggered toward the barracks, exhausted but proud.
End of Chapter 21.
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