“My god…” Griff muttered as he walked sullenly through the trenches of Kal’Shebbol. The Sovereignty had been fighting on this planet for weeks now, desperately trying to hold on to the little ground they had gained. For weeks, young men, and clones had fought trench warfare against the Kathol Protectorate army, or the People’s Liberation Army.

The Sovereignty forces, utilizing the new Samurai Atmospheric Gunships, had managed to secure a few kilometers of territory on Kal’Shebbol after fighting off the Kathol Protectorate’s navy in orbit. They had fought for three weeks, in the muddy, wet trenches until a few days ago, they executed a massive offensive. The Sovereignty was able to land fresh reserves straight from Tatooine behind the Sovereignty lines. The reserves, along with the gunships and other vehicles, had formed with the battle-weary forces already in place and had launched a massive offensive, and had managed to overrun the enemy trenches and capture the planet.

Now the President was sifting through the remains of the Sovereignty base camp, and trenches. He had wanted to do this, to know exactly what had happened here. Too many powerful leaders often sit in their plush offices, directing the war from holoprojector. Griff was exactly the opposite, he wanted to be right there with them, fighting hard. But his bodyguards, and Congress, wouldn’t allow him to put his life in the direct path of danger, as he had done on Hoth.

He sighed sadly as he made his way carefully through the trenches. He stepped over dead bodies, fallen weapons, empty supply crates, rodents, food. The list went on and on. The dead had yet to be taken care of. The Sovereignty was still securing it’s hold on the planet, there were still plenty of resistance throughout Kal’Shebbol.

Griff heard a whirr behind him and he turned to see hundreds of worker droids descending on the trenches, ready to do their grisly work. They placed each body of every young soldier on a repulsor sled, which would cart it off to a morgue.

Griff watched, feeling pain well up inside him. He sat down, unable to contain himself, on an empty supply crate. He buried his face in his hands.

He felt something beside him, and turned to see a body of a young man, laying face down in the mud. Next to the man was a datapad, rusty and beat up looking. It was not a military design…it was probably a record or a journal or something. On an instinct, Griff leaned down and picked it up. It was very beat up, the screen cracked, and it all encrusted with dried mud.

It was operational though, and was on standby mode, he pressed a few keys and watched as text scrolled down, it was indeed a personal journal. Griff began to read…









Day four…

We just got here…and the trenches are already tainted with blood…


My name is Jerick Kodeen, (Private First Class) Jerick Kodeen. I am a soldier in the Outer-Rim Sovereignty Army. Right now I am writing in my personal journal, while I sit in the dark trenches of Kal’Shebbol.

I guess it would be best for me to explain a bit where I’m from. I am originally from Bakura. Salis D’aar to be exact. I am eighteen years old, and enlisted into the army myself. There is no war draft on Sovereignty worlds, because of the cloning technology that the military possesses. My family warned me away from military service, but I was tired of living on that remote world.

My father was a soldier as well, only he fought for the Jutraalian Army. His name was Colonel Artus Kodeen, 121st Jutraalian Assault Brigade. He died in the fighting on Thyferra a year ago, killed by the Vratix Ashern group during the Jutraalian attack on the planet and my life has not been the same. I have an older brother, Carten, who has become the head of the household in our father’s absence. He told me not to enlist, but I really wanted to do something with myself. And even though my father was killed in a war, I still am eager to do my part.

I really wanted to help people in any way I can, and if that means fighting the enemies of the Sovereignty, then so be it. My father always taught me never to go looking for a fight, let it come to you and then decide how best to deal with it.

I remember my first day in basic training. I boarded a transport from Salis D’aar and was ferried by a Sovereignty Bird of Prey, the Silencer T to the world of Tatooine. I remember hearing once, something Luke Skywalker once said. ‘If there is a bright center to the universe, Tatooine is the farthest from’. I could not agree more. It is nothing but a ball of dust, floating in space. The twin suns make it as hot as hell in the afternoon.

The military instructors at the Sovereignty Military Academy on Tatooine were tough. During basic, myself, and some of the other enlistees joked that these guys were tough enough to eat nails and ask for seconds. I only with I was back there now. Even though it was difficult, this dark place makes it look like a vacation home on Naboo. Here, my bed is mud and water. There at least I had a comfortable bunk to sleep in. I smile as I remember that bed. I wish it were here…or better yet I wish I was back on Tatooine.

We arrived here, on Kal’Shebbol, four days ago. The Sovereignty had succeeded in driving the Kathol Protectorate’s fleet away and chasing them to Lorize, a heavy manufacturing planet a couple of parsecs from this planet. But the Protectorate is fanatical about holding the capital of their newly formed government. And President Griff still has not declared this world ‘taken’. I know why too. Four days we have been here and have had to fight off two enemy offensives. These guys are tough too, full body armor. Your shots don’t hurt them if it is a glancing blow…you have to hit them head on.

Their armor is as tough as durasteel, I tell you. And these guys charge at you with determination borne only out of desperation. I don’t understand why they do it either… such a waste of life. I would not like to kill them, but in war it’s them or me. I have a family waiting for me back home, so today it is going to be them. I don’t want to sound heartless while I say this, but this is the cold reality.

The trenches are horrible, you could not even imagine. They have something going around called ‘Red Worm Disease’… it makes your blood vessels bulge, and clot up. So you look like you are about to explode. Scary stuff. It isn’t contagious or anything, thank the gods. So I have yet to get it. That is only the worse of the disease. There is also trenchfoot. It makes your feet feel numb, and you can’t stand on them because they hurt like hell. We think it is because of the water and mud that permeates the trenches. I’ve already seen two guys like that.

You can’t peek your head up over the lip of the trench either. I saw a guy do that, and now he’s dead. Those Kathol soldiers, they are excellent shots. And they are constantly sweeping the edge of our trench. If you peek over it even a little you are in trouble. We have to use a kind of periscope to see over the edge. But it is okay when those guys attack, the other side isn’t as eager to shoot and hit one of their own soldiers. But even when they do come, you need to keep your head low.

I look around, and wonder what we are doing here. When I enlisted, I had known a little about the horrors of war. My father would often tell us stories, my brother and I. He would some times break down in tears over it. Now I have experienced it for myself, I understand why. I would rather shoot a M-K Sporting Blaster at wamp rats on Tatooine, not 738 Compression Blaster Rifles at other young men. These guys are just like me, what are we doing here?


Well, I must get some rest, It’ll be my turn on watch soon.[/i]






Griff looked up from the datapad, looking around the abandoned trenches.

“Mr. President.” A voice said from his right.

He looked up at the tall imposing Shi’ido, his personal bodyguard, “What is it, Aeon?”

“Sir, are you sure you want to be here? It isn’t safe.” Aeon replied.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“What are you reading, if you don’t mind me asking…?” Aeon asked, looking down at the datapad.

“It is journal…of one of the soldiers here.” He said, casting a glance at the body of the soldier he had seen gripping the datapad.

“What does it say?”

“Mostly personal things…but I am hoping it will contain a complete account of what happened here.” Griff said.

“We already know what happened here.”

“I want a soldier’s point of view.”

“I see.” Aeon said.

The Shi’ido nodded, and retreated a fair distance away, keeping silent watch. Griff returned his gaze to the datapad in his hands.

It’s not easy making friends here. The other day, at mess call… I had some rations with a couple of other soldiers. I just found out that they both died a few hours ago, one from Red Worm disease, another by a sniper’s fire.

It’s usually very quiet here, except for the occasional out break of battle. These Kathol soldiers limit their raids to at least once a day. Maybe they are finally catching on to how futile it really is. They can’t win this war by shooting their way through, blindly charging, all guns blazing. War requires finesse, especially this kind of war.

I am told that this is no ordinary war. In today’s galaxy war is usually fought in space, with the ships in orbit taking care of anyone on the ground. Now I wonder why we are here, when the Birds of Prey in orbit could take care of it all. Maybe they know how determined the Protectorate really is about keeping it’s hold on this world.


I wonder if the boredom would kill me before a blaster bolt. The only thing to do, in between fighting off raids is to fight of the elements. Rats, flies, any kind of insects, water, and all the damn mud. Mud gets everywhere! In your shoes, shirt, hair, pants, blaster rifle. I have to clean my weapon every day, a very thorough work up. Take it all apart, clean it, the put it back together. I have a secondary weapons as well, a DL-44. The same one Luke Skywalker and Han Solo used. Maybe it will help me as much as it helped them.

Another thing we enjoy is mail call. A Y-4 transport, or another cargo ship always lands every week to deliver our letters to us. I receive one from my family every week, and let me say this: it is the most wonderful thing in the world to be reminded what you are fighting for.

The clones, though. I feel sorry for them actually, they have no family, no home. Their sole purpose is to fight for the Sovereignty. I mean, they don’t even have names. It is number, quite sad really. I wonder what would happen if I tried to befriend one of them. Although, if I do, I may just be setting myself up again. The clones are among the first to go over the top during a raid.








Griff looked up from his datapad and over at the Samurai Gunship that landed a dozen meters away. Two men, dressed in military uniforms approached him. He climbed out of the trench and walked over to them. They saluted him as he recognized one as a Major, and the other as an Army captain.

“Mr. President,” The Major said, “We have just received word that Chancellor Exoer was just captured in the capital. She is currently in Sovereignty Headquarters, four kilometers from here. We have a transport waiting to take you there to personally interview her.”

Griff nodded, “Let’s go.” He said and with both soldiers, he headed for the gunship.

During the short flight to HQ, he began to read the datapad again…




Day 8…

One week into this hell and I just got back from my first raid. The attacks are almost not worth it he death that they bring. A few of us sneak over to the enemy positions in their trenches, throw some thermal detonators, and kill as many as possible. We then sneak back to our own trench, and to safety.

Eight of us left our position, and two came back. It is supposed to be a sneaking operation, the enemy is never supposed to see us. We were supposed to be invisible soldiers, cause as much mayhem as possible, and then sneak away. This time, it was more of an ambush. I remember crawling over the dark, ravaged landscape with the others. This time it was myself, Darrid Kyen, and six other clone soldiers.

We crawled a few yards away from the enemy trench. One of the clones, a major, ordered the raiders to ready thermal detonators, which we did. We each threw one in, and eight explosions lit up the night sky, and the dead ones. The major then ordered us to take up our blasters and make our way back to safety. I was ordered to be one of the rear guards along with Kyen. I remember two enemy soldiers pursuing us, determined to avenge their dead comrades. Kyen shot one and then retreated. I turned, aimed at the remaining soldier’s chest. I will never forget his face.

It was young, and afraid. A lot like me really. I remember aiming my blaster rifle at him, the look on his face… it was filled with a sort of resigned fear. Perhaps he had accepted the fact that death was a possibility… maybe he had come to terms with it. In either case, in this war it is a no-win situation. It is kill or be killed. So, like a good soldier, I killed that young man. I will never forget the look on his face when he died.

Now I sit here, in the water and mud, thinking about what I did. I wonder now if this is the ethical debate that all soldiers go through. Do they feel remorse at the death they cause? I know I am. I wish now that I wouldn’t have had to kill that Kathol Protectorate soldier. I know there are other ways in solving conflicts…but didn’t the Kathol Protectorate declare war on us…?

“Sir…?”

Griff looked up yet again from the datapad, completely involved in the young soldier’s personal logs. He looked up at the Army Major beckoning him to step out of the Samurai gunship. Griff did so, and accompanied by his Shi’ido bodyguard Aeon, he followed into the main building of the Sovereignty headquarters. They took him directly to a room where you could view the interrogation chamber through a double-sided mirror. What he saw made his eyes narrow. A female, clad in simple white robes, sat calmly at the table in front of her, her hands folded carefully. Griff scowled at her calm demeanor.

“Sir, would you like one of us to go in and…give her something to think about?” The Major asked.

“No. I’ll go. And I’ll give her plenty to think about.” Griff said coldly.

He headed for the door to the interrogation room, and entered quietly.

Chancellor Exoer looked up at him calmly. She did not stand and did not acknowledge him. The two leaders stared at each other, until Griff broke the silence.

“Chancellor, so lovely to finally meet you in person.” He said emotionlessly.

“Mr. President, you are looking tyrannical as always.” She remarked coolly.

He gave her an amused glance before sitting down across the table from her, placing the soldier’s datapad in front of him, that he still carried.

“Are you here to read me my rights?” She asked.

“No. But perhaps I you haven’t been informed… your little creation is at an end.” Griff said, referring to the Kathol Sector government that Exoer had headed.

“Really? And perhaps you haven’t been informed that there is still plenty of resistance. You cannot lock me up. I will be commanding my troops within a week.” She said confidently.

“Really? And how do you plan on doing that?” Griff asked, unimpressed.

“Oh… that’s my little secret.”

She said it so nonchalantly that he actually wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or just blowing smoke. His brow furrowed in response.

“I look forward to besting you in both space and ground combat… again.” He said.

“If you are referring to your invasion of my capital world, you have not won just yet. There are entire legions of troops I haven’t used. They stand ready to take the planet.” She said.

“Come now. We both know that my scouts have covered the whole planet. There are no more troops. You are suffering from delusions, probably.” Griff said mockingly.

“Say what you like. But you have not won quite yet.” Exoer mocked in return.

“Remember, Exoer, this was your doing.” Griff said, glancing at the datapad.

“We merely wanted our independence.”

“Well you got it. For a few weeks. You would have found that I would have recognized your independence, and probably arranged for some sort of trade between us. But you wanted to do things the hard way. I am afraid you have failed. Things could have been different, were you more intelligent.”

Exoer scoffed, “Don’t ramble on about intelligence, Griff. You are the one who can’t keep your own government from biting you in the ass.” She said, smiling slightly.

Griff sighed and turned to leave.

“The Project is watching…always watching.” Exoer said. Whatever reaction she had wanted out of him did not show. The President simply turned around and stared at her.

“What?”

Exoer merely smiled.

“Tell me what I want to know.” Griff said, getting agitated.

“I will, but first you must give me something in return.” Exoer said.

“What is it?”

“A comm. call.”

Griff almost laughed. He stood there, with his hands at his sides, looking at his beaten enemy. The woman did not look at all her usual self. She was usually dressed in lavish robes, with expensive jewelry around her neck and on her fingers. She looked like the matriarch of some royal house. Now she was dressed in a dirty jumpsuit, with multiple burn marks spread across it. She had obviously put up a fight before the clone soldiers took her down.

“To whom?” Griff asked.

“My secret.”

Griff thought for a moment, before taking two steps to the table the former Chancellor was sitting at. With an easy move, he picked the table up and tossed it aside as if it weighed nothing. Exoer seemed surprised at first, but her faintly amused expression quickly returned. Griff leaned in close to her.

“I am struggling to keep a government together. You used to serve that government, but someone…or something turned you against it. What is it?”

“Do you want to know what Project Scorpion is, Griff?” Exoer asked politely.

“Yes. But if you don’t tell me..”

“You’ll do what?”

“You will go away for a very long time.”

“I see.”

“Fine… you have had the answer in your hands the whole time.”

He frowned, and then noticed the datapad on the floor. The datapad of the dead soldier.

“The soldier’s journal?” He asked.

“Kodeen? Yeah. He was one of ours. You see, we made a few modifications to some of the clones, and we hired him to observe how they fought. He was encoding his observations in his journal. He made it look like it was his personal logs.”

“And he is dead now.”

“We don’t know what happened to him exactly. But we think he wasn’t killed in the fighting. And that little raid he mentioned going on, he never went on it. His orders were to stay away from the fighting. His only role was to report on how the clones functioned.”

“He was killed by something else? Not by the Kathol attacks?”

“Right. I guess it doesn’t really matter, now though. Kodeen was a clone himself. He didn’t know this, but he was actually the first of the new type of clone soldiers.”

Griff frowned, “New type?”

Exoer smiled.

“So, you do work for Scorpion?”

“I thought you would have figured it out by now.”

“Then… what is your story?”

“Give me the call, Griff.”

“Very well.”

Griff nodded to one of the nearby soldiers, who led the former chancellor out. On her way out, she turned back to Griff, who looked up at her.

“Griff. I know you won’t allow me to talk to anyone, but if you want to find out what we are… be at the seat of the regime, and hear the words from the Scorpion’s mouth.”

Then she was led out, and left Griff with more questions then answered.

Griff couldn’t sleep. The journal of the dead soldier Kodeen had been keeping him up. He remembered passages from the journal, and at the time it had been somewhat sad…but Griff knew now that it was merely a code… to record the progress of the new clones. Forty-five minutes after Exoer had departed company with the President, ORS Cryptology had decoded the journal, and it was indeed observations on some new sort of clone type.

The contents of the decoded journal was disturbing. Project Scorpion had modified the ORS clones that were used in the heaviest fighting in the Kathol Sector. The journal didn’t reveal what changes were made, but it did record, as did official reports that the clones fought with enhanced agility and fighting abilities. It explained why Kal’shebbol was taken so quickly – two weeks. The entire planet had been defeated, secured, and then locked down for Griff’s arrival in two weeks, all with little over one hundred thousand clone soldiers- modified soldiers.

Griff had already informed Commandant Ilem on CN-1653, head of the ORS cloning project that there were unknown and unauthorized alterations to the clone soldiers. Ilem had immediately set out to discover what had been changed. Griff was currently in his quarters on board the Sovereign, waiting for Ilem’s call.

“… be at the seat of the regime, and hear the words from the Scorpion’s mouth….”

Griff remembered what Exoer said…and he still couldn’t figure it out. All of Kal’shebbol had been secured, and ORS facilities were being set up to protect the world even now, two days after the world officially fell. Governments were being formed, and Griff knew the Diplomatic Corps were busy as ever scrambling to clean up the mess.

“… be at the seat of the regime….”

“Captain,” Griff said into his comlink, “Set course for CN-1344. We have a meeting to go to.”





Griff sat in silence in his personal closed landspeeder. He was sitting in the passenger side, and on either side of the vehicle itself were several armored police landspeeders, escorting the President. Up ahead somewhere, was a squadron of X-Wings,
silently escorting the presidential motorcade.

They were currently heading down one of the main roads, to the center of the city. At the center was the ORS headquarters, a massively tall building that stretched up into the sky. At the foot of the building was a large monument, that listed parts of the constitution. It was prominantly displayed in stone, for all to see.

It was coming into view now, but Griff turned his attention once more to the datapad, which he had retreived from the cryptology department.





I sit here, and I wonder when this will all be over.

I spoke to a clone soldier the other day... four-eight-dee-eight or something. I asked him about his take on all of this. He told me,

"Jerick, war is hell. But war is a necessity. You must realize that without war, there would be nothing to replace anarchy."

I am starting to beleive him, but I already fear it is too late. The other day, he was killed in an offensive that was designed to take forty yards. Forty yards! In this day and age, with all of this new technology, entire planets can be taken over in a matter of days. I have been here for going on two weeks and I already cannot stand it.

Rodents, disease, sickness... they kill more soldiers than the enemy. It is sad, but everytime I try to make a friend... find a buddy, he winds up dead. But, as tht clone said, war is a necessity.

We are continually promised reinforcements, but none ever come. When I ask my commanding officer this, he merely shrugs and says,

"What can reinforcements do for us? We are stuck here in this little hell. And no one will ever help us."

I find I am starting to beleive that. There is no sign of this letting up. And I fear the worst.





"We are here." The driver, a human, announced as the motor cade pulled up to the headquarters building. Griff stepped out of the vehicle and headed up the steps. On his way up he noticed someone standing directly in front of the large stone tablet.

"Aeon. Follow me." He said to his bodyguard, who followed dutifully as Griff made his way to the stone tablet.

As he approached, the figure did not turn, and Griff saw that a hood was obscuring that person's face.

"Hello..." He said.

"President Griff." The man said, turning slowly. Griff lofted a brow as he saw who the man was.

Jorai Kovel, Black Hand Director.

"Director Kovel? What are you doing here?"

Kovel smiled slightly. The director was a human from Corellia. And had been Marth Meer's deputy director during his tenure as head of the Black Hand. After Meer had been elected to Vice-President, Kovel had succeeded him as Director.

As far as Griff knew, Kovel was supposed to be on Endor, where Black Hand was based.

"Oh... just remindming myself of what it is the soldiers are fightihg, and dying for." Kovel said offhandedly. Griff frowned, perplexed.

Kovel turned to him, "Are you here to know the truth about Project Scorpion?" He asked.

Griff tried not to be surprised, but he could not help it. Somehoe he knew that this is what he should have expected, but he wished he did not have to.

"Kovel...?" He asked.

"Yes. It is true." The Black Hand Director said, confirming Griff's darkest suspicions. Somehow, Kovel was involved with Project Scorpion.

"Well. I assume you came here at the direction of Chancellor Exoer." Kovel mused, "And I assume you want the truth about us."

Griff nodded, signalling his group of bodyguards to hold. They had begun inching up the steps a bit, weapons ready. But Griff somehow knew he was in no danger. It appeared as though Project Scorpion wanted to talk.

"Tell me everything." Griff said, between clenched teeth.

"Everything?" Kovel asked, laughing lightly, "I am afraid there is much too much information to simply tell you everything. And something you are not ready to hear."

Griff barely restrained himself from shouting, "I am the President, damnit! I am ready to hear everything!" He said.

"You may be President. But you have nothing, that we didn't give you." Kovel said quietly, his arms raising to indicate the huge stone tablet of the ORS constitution, "Look. 'For the people.'" He said, indicating one of the charter lines in the document, "You are here, all of us are here to serve the people!" Kovel said, "And what are you doing, Griff? You are killing the people!"

Griff shook his head, "I am protecting the people of thr Sovereignty."

"By killing others?"

"War is a necessity." Griff said flatly, "Tell me what Project Scorpion is."

"You tell me you know everything? Well, if you haven't figured out what the Project is, then maybe you don't need to hear."

"How about you tell me before my shapeshifting friends here decide that you are expendable."

"Very well. Project Scorpion is a group of intelligence agents that moniter the Sovereignty. Our only function is to protect the Sovereignty at all costs. We saw what happened when the Federation council decided that they wanted to rule and decided that you were not fit to be in any kind of leadership position? Well after that incident, a few of us in Black Hand decided to make sure that never happens again.

"And so far, it hasn't. But we have decided to take that original mission a little further. You are clearly not informed about everything that goes on within your realm, and you are not very quick to put an end to potential enemies before they become problems. So we decided to create a little incident in the Kathol Sector. Their government was getting too anti-Sovereignty and they wanted their independance. So we sent Exoer -yes she is one of ours - to take control of the government there and start an uprising. She suceeded and she goaded you into attaking. And now thanks to us, you have one less enemy. You can now rule the Kathol Sector."

Griff nodded, "I see. And it is interesting, but I am afraid I do not like being a puppet, Director."

"Yes. We already know you do not like any help in your duties. That will be your failing." Kovel said with a sigh.

"And your failing, Director, was to ever cross me." Griff said, signalling to his bodyguards. The Shi'ido quickly took him into custody, and as he was being taken away, he shouted to Griff, "You will never be rid of us! You need us!"

Griff watched untill the Director was gone. Then he looked up and stared at the stone tablets of the constitution. He stood that way for a long time...