At the beginning of the Clone Wars, Moatia Rhaden is granted padawan status, made a Commander, and shipped across the galaxy. Nothing seems to make sense, and Moatia is lost at every turn.
But at least she has her Master and her men beside her.
~ T...
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Neeka had joined the clones in their tradition of picking through the battlefield.
The privilege of recovering your loved ones wasn't one they could always afford; oftentimes they had to make a speedy retreat, and were forced to leave their brothers behind.
But whenever the opportunity presented itself, the clones who still were able to walk would slowly make their way through as much of the battlefield as they could, looking for their wounded and dead brothers.
It wasn't something Neeka had ever wanted to do, but here she was, slowly combing her way through shattered tanks, pieces of droids, and the occasional white armor, hoping Moatia had only been wounded.
She had yet to find, or sense, anything. Neeka approached the giant pit in the middle of the battlefield. This was Moatia's last recorded location.
But, if she had been in the epicenter of the blast that created this hole, Moatia had stood no chance at survival.
The mere prospect made Neeka want to weep.
Almost reluctantly, Neeka edged her way into the pit. It was twice the size of a Republic tank. Just what had hit here?
She had no clue. But the pit was devestatingly devoid of life. At this point, she would have been overjoyed to see a battle droid wandering around.
At least then there would have been a chance for Moatia to survive.
Neeka was about to collapse into a heap and sob hopelessly when something shiny caught her eyes. Normally she wasn't too interested in shiny things, that was more Moatia's area of expertise.
But this shiny thing looked like a lightsaber.
Rushing over, Neeka saw that it indeed was one of Moatia's sabers. She scooped it up and clutched it to her chest.
But, she couldn't find the other one. Neeka looked all around. If one of Moatia's lightsabers was here, the other must be nearby.
And Moatia shouldn't be too far.
But that didn't seem to be the case.
The sun had fully set by the time Neeka was forced to accept defeat. Conlan had come looking for her, bottle of water in hand.
"Drink this," he insisted. "You're probably dehydrated."
"I haven't found her," she rasped. She showed Conlan Moatia's saber. "Only this."
Conlan took it from her, trading saber for water bottle. He carefully studied the saber, taking in every inch of the dusty hilt. "The Commander never goes anywhere without this."
"I can't find the other one."
Just as she had spoken those words, Conlan's head snapped up. He stared at her. "She lost her saber one time, remember?"
