She's their teacher, their captain, their general. And like any other officer, she must send them to their deaths.
Shaak Ti watched the battle simulation from an observation port, hands behind her back. The kilometer-wide room beyond her was filled with a swirling blizzard. She could see tanks, four AT-TEs, lumbering through the snow toward the raised ridge in the distance, climbing to fight a simulated anti-infantry battery on the way to the enemy's main bunker.
Shaak Ti could see the infantry struggling behind them in the tank's path. She could see each of them, all in the same armor, the same fit, not a single detail apart.
"No defects." Panu said behind her. Shaak Ti didn't look at the Kaminoan, but knew their policies.
And she knew policy meant nothing. She felt each and every one of their lives as they pass through training, at every exercise she supervised and every graduation ceremony. To the Kaminoans, they said they were all the same, just products, but to the Jedi, they knew each clone was different.
As she watched, the anti-infantry opened up. The clones continued advancing behind the tanks as they coordinated fire. Their secondary batteries fired, taking down simulated enemy infantry in the trenches.
Shaak Ti reached out for the console in front of her. She could hear the battle chatter. "Target locked!"
"Stand by. I'm recalibrating!"
"Say again? We need to finish this!"
"Load armor piercing! Fire into the snow below it!"
"What the kriff is-- stand by!"
They're young, but only like any other soldiers are, eighteen year olds entering the enlistment office. They have different habits, different details, different vibes in the Force.
The four AT-TEs shifted their mass drivers, and fired-- not at the battery, but at the mound of snow it was built on. The penetrator rounds passed through the snow, into the simulated soil underneath, and the repulsor plates of the simulator below that. The whole thing collapsed into a crater of snow, ice, and busted machinery.
"Clever. Using the environment. He's a good one," Panu said.
"Hm? He is a commander, is he not?" Shaak Ti asked.
"Yes, but there's something else about him. I'll recommend further analysis." Panu typed something into her tablet, smiling and unaware of what she had just let slip.
Shaak Ti smiled too. Despite how intolerant they could be... not all the Kaminoans viewed the clones as products. And they didn't like to admit that some of them felt it too. At unguarded moments, she could see it.
The tanks advanced up the hill rapidly, the infantry following in their paths like ducklings.
But like them, Shaak-ti knew they are going to die. That's what every soldier must accept. And they had to accept what these soldiers are going off to do.
As she watched, one of the AT-TEs shifted, and a snowbank collapsed into the crater. A section of clones fell into the snowdrift.
Shaak Ti inhaled sharply. One man dove into the snow after them. She heard the radio chatter as they fought to maintain their advance and save their brothers.
Panu took clinical notes, frowning, or neutrally appearing.
Shaak Ti wanted to seize a hover platform and go down there to find them. She knew they weren't likely to die in the snow, but they'd be hurt.
She closed her eyes. She wondered sometimes how generals had done it.
She wanted to go down there and hold their hands, wanted constant updates on their status.
They'd be okay, despite the Kaminoans. They just lost their footing, they weren't imperfect.
One clone looped a cord around an AT-TE leg, and dove in after the rescuer. Grabbing his hand, he pulled one, then found him pulling another. Two more clones grabbed the man's cord and hauled him up, slowly drawing the others up.
They'd have to go into real action soon. They'd be alright, but soon they wouldn't be.
And she wouldn't be able to keep her eyes on them next time.
And so she went on the stage time and again, watching them in exercise or ceremony, still with a warm smile and a reassuring look. Because that's what a good leader did.
Even when a general knows they're sending their troops to their deaths.
