The journey to Kuat was brief, and as the Avalon dropped out of hyperspace, the vast shipyards of the planet came into view. Massive structures floated in orbit, swarming with activity as workers and droids busily constructed the Republic's warships and outfitted them with the latest technology.
Lelouch contacted the station's overseer, a grizzled veteran named Admiral Yularen, who appeared on the holo-screen with a respectful nod.
"General Lelouch," Yularen greeted, his tone formal. "We've been informed of your arrival. The necessary equipment is being loaded onto your fleet as we speak, and refueling operations will commence immediately."
"Thank you, Admiral," Lelouch replied, his voice smooth and authoritative. "We won't delay any longer than necessary. The situation in the southern quadrant requires urgent attention."
"Understood, General," Yularen said. "We'll expedite the process."
As the fleet docked with the station, Lelouch oversaw the transfer of weapons, supplies, and specialized vehicles. The refueling was swift, the crew working with military precision to ensure that the fleet was ready to depart at a moment's notice.
Within a few hours, the fleet was fully equipped and ready to depart. Lelouch gave the order to resume the journey to Kamino, and the fleet once again leaped into hyperspace, the stars elongating into streaks of light.
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On Kamino, the stormy seas raged outside the cloning facility, lightning flashing across the dark sky. Inside, rows upon rows of newly minted clone troopers stood at attention, their armor gleaming under the sterile lights of the facility. They were the latest batch, created and trained for the sole purpose of waging war on behalf of the Republic.
CT-4567, a clone trooper in the front row, stood rigidly as he awaited orders. His helmet was clipped to his belt, revealing his determined expression and identical features to his brothers. The facility had been buzzing with activity ever since they were informed of the arrival of a high-ranking general, but the details had been scarce.
"Do you think it's a high-ranking Jedi-General?" CT-7894, the trooper next to him, whispered under his breath.
"Could be," CT-4567 replied, keeping his voice low. "But I heard it's someone very high profile—someone the Kaminoans are really tight-lipped and excited about. They urged us continuously to be at our best today."
Before they could speculate further, the massive doors of the facility hissed open, and the sound of boots on metal echoed through the chamber. The clones snapped to attention, their eyes fixed straight ahead.
Lelouch vi Britannia entered the facility, flanked by his officers. Dressed in white armor with black accents, his black cloak starting at his waist billowed slightly as he walked, his presence commanding immediate respect. The clones could feel something different about him—a subtle aura of power that seemed to fill the room.
CT-4567 watched as the General approached, his violet eyes scanning the ranks with a critical gaze. The trooper felt a shiver run down his spine as those eyes passed over him, a feeling he couldn't quite place.
"At ease," Lelouch commanded, his voice carrying authority.
The clones relaxed slightly, though their discipline remained impeccable. Lelouch stepped forward, his gaze still fixed on the troopers.
"You are the finest soldiers the Republic has ever produced," Lelouch began, his voice smooth yet carrying an undercurrent of intensity. "Your loyalty, your dedication, and your skill will be put to the test in the days ahead. The enemy is relentless, but so are you."
"In the days to come you will be my hands, my feet, my armor, my shield and my sword." As their general said that, the stoic expression on his face fell and what replaced it was a soft smile. "You will live because I allow it and you will die only when I demand it." By any matter of logic those words should have sounded harsh and unreasonable, but they were anything but to the clones.
As Lelouch's words echoed through the cavernous hangar, a hush fell over the assembled clones. His presence was commanding, his authority absolute, and the clones, bred for obedience, felt an unusual mix of reverence and loyalty toward him.
A clone trooper, heavily deformed approached, moving slowly as he pushed a big crate on a repulsorlift towards Lelouch, marked with the insignia of the Republic. With a gentle hiss, the crate opened, revealing rows of small, polished metal tags. Each tag was engraved with a unique identification number—the personal number of every clone standing in the hangar, as well as those who had served under Lelouch before his arrival on Kamino.
The clones watched in silence as several droids came forth and began distributing the tags. Each trooper received theirs with a mixture of pride and curiosity, examining the small piece of metal that bore their identity. For many, it was a rare moment of individual recognition in a life defined by uniformity.
"For many in the future, these tags will be what remain. We do not always have the luxury of burying our dead, and even less so where they deserve." Lelouch slowly reached down and grabbed the remaining tag, one carrying his own identification number.
As he looked at it, the clones clenched theirs in their hands. "It is not much, but in these trying times it's about all I can afford to give."
"At the time of our departure you are expected to return them. They will be under lock and key on the flagship, under armed guards, where they will remain until our next return to the core." Lelouch looked at his officers, each clenching a dog tag as he smiled at them. "You will not be forgotten."
A loud *THUMP* was heard from as both officers saluted, an even louder one resounding as the entire legion followed suit.
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99 stood at the edge of the hangar, observing the proceedings with a mix of awe and quiet acceptance. Unlike the others, he had never expected to be part of such a formal event. His deformities had always made him feel like an outsider, a misfit among the uniformity of his brothers. Yet here he was, watching as the General handed out tags—symbols of individuality and honor to each clone.
As the service droid distributed the last of the tags, Lelouch's sharp eyes fell upon Clone 99. The General's gaze lingered on him, and 99 instinctively straightened, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. But Lelouch was not one to miss details.
"Why don't you have a tag?" Lelouch's voice cut through the air, addressing 99 directly.
99 hesitated, his deformed hand twitching slightly at his side. "I... I wasn't given one, sir," he stammered, his voice low and filled with uncertainty. "I assumed it wasn't necessary, given my condition."
Lelouch's expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps understanding, perhaps something else. For a moment, however brief he seemed to be looking at someone else through him. He promptly turned to one of his officers and gave a brief nod. The officer relayed the command, and the service droid, which had just finished its task, was summoned back.
"Bring a tag for this clone," Lelouch ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The droid whirred back into motion, quickly retreating from whence it came from. It returned after a moment and handed the small metal piece to Clone 99, who accepted it with trembling hands. The tag felt surprisingly heavy in his palm, the weight of it symbolic of something he had never truly felt before—belonging.
"As you will not be joining us, I expect you to return it on our next return trip to the core... trooper."
"Understood, SIR!" 99 saluted as behind the general, his brothers nodded at him.
"Welcome to the Zero Legion."
A.N: Couldn't decide between 0 and Zero and fell asleep while thinking about it and listening to music... so that's that, next we either see what Anakin or Grevious is doing, kinda can't decide right now.