I remember when we marched on the temple. I remember walking right behind Skywalker, or Lord Vader as he was called at that point. Everyone was silent; Just the faint thumping of our synchronized footsteps, causing the very pavement we stood on to shudder. I remember minute adjustments I constantly made to my DC-15 carbine. I kept on asking myself, "Is a constant stream of semi-automatic rounds on full power enough to take down a Jedi, let alone one hundred?" I'm sure similar questions were boiling in the minds of my companions.
          Our first contact in the Jedi Temple was made when a Jedi asked Vader what was going on. I remember a flash of light followed by a severed Jedi falling to the ground. With that, Vader ordered us to search and destroy.
          I was assigned to a squad of thirty-odd men, along with two of the so-called "new breed"; clone assassins.
          The assassins operated like ARC Troopers. I wouldn't be surprised if a few of them were ARCs. They didn't stay with the group; they stalked from the shadows. A couple times I remember seeing a Jedi walk into darkness with their lightsaber on, hear the sick thud of blades embedding themselves in flesh, and then the lightsaber would deactivate.
          Our squad, known as Terentatek Squad, was tasked with blazing through Jedi formations so that the rest of the 501st could march on through. We were to use stealth and attack the Jedi from behind while the 501st wreaked havoc throughout the rest of the temple.
          So we took stairways, we took passageways that led from one room into another, avoiding the main hallways at all costs. I remember we lost only one trooper, but he was avenged quickly. I remember the Jedi beheading squadmate Raith before the Jedi was shot several times. Even after those few shots the Jedi survived. So we took it upon ourselves to drag the Jedi to a balcony and throw him off, down onto the unforgiving ground of Coruscant.
          That scene is perhaps the most disturbing memory of Order 66. Not the deaths of men I had trained with and served with. Not the deaths of the Jedi. Not even the deaths of the adolescent Jedi, some of whom were crying out for parents they didn't even know. The beheading of Raith and the agony of the Jedi that killed him didn't touch me. It was the brutality we showed towards the wounded Jedi. We could have easily shot him some more and ended it there, but instead, we looked for a place where the Jedi could plunge to his death, spending his last few moments in fear.
          As clones, we were taught by our instructors how to quickly kill an enemy so as not to expend more energy then is needed. Add to that the fact that we were used to fighting droids. When you fight a droid army, sure you get enraged that an SBD took your pal down. You might even put a few more rounds into it then is necessary, but I don't believe that any of us had ever had it in our minds to rip the droid's arms off and torture it. You didn't see a platoon take a dwarf spider droid's charred chassis and take turns pissing on it. As clones, we killed efficiently and quickly. The way we killed Raith's Jedi killer was unusual, and I personally believe it was cruel.
         After we had eliminated the Jedi and secured the temple, I asked some of my brothers whether they felt that we had done something wrong. One of them, Jial, told me "We followed orders; what is there to feel wrong about?" I reminded him of the Jedi we had thrown to our deaths. Another brother of mine, Shot, cocked his head, raised an eyebrow and said, "Are you feeling sorry for those fierfekking traitors, vod?" I told him no, but compared our usual method of killing and our departure from the norm with this one Jedi. Didn't they find it odd? My CO walked up and offered me a Stim boost "to calm me down," as he put it. That was the end of that conversation and the beginning of our relocation to Bespin.
        Months later, I managed to bribe a data slicer to opening up a file about the list of casualties at the Jedi Temple around Order 66. The list gave name, reason for death, time of death, and the cause. I located the one death that was different from "lightsaber" "stabbed", "blaster fire", and "explosion". The death was listed as "fall". I read the young man's name, Gareth Brigger, and opened his file. Inside I found his life story as recorded by his master and trainers. He was a very nice young man by all accounts. He hoped to be a Consular, whatever that was, and looked up to then-Skywalker as a role model. He frequently spoke with Master Yoda about the Force, and even had some lightsaber practice with Master Windu; a very promising student.
        I shut the file, and since then I had hoped to find a way to relieve myself of the guilt that stemmed from brutally ending the life of a young man who had been branded a traitor merely because he owned a lightsaber and had command of the Force.
        
        There's one incident I failed to mention during our raid on the Jedi Temple. Now that I've retired, I figure it's safe to mention.
        I got cut off from my squad, and I stumbled into a small nook in the wall. I removed my helmet to get some air when I looked to the side and saw a girl, no older than about 15 or 16 looking up at me. By her robes I could tell she was a Jedi, but she didn't have a lightsaber, and she was terrified. I would be too if I saw hundreds of clones brandishing rifles march in and kill everyone she knew.
        I knew my duty. I raised my rifle and took aim. But something faltered. Back then I thought it was the Force, that the girl was influencing me. But I realize now that I had conscience. For about a full half a minute I pointed my rifle straight at her forehead. But the fear in her eyes, the tears staining her face; it was too much. With a long, shuddering sigh I lowered my weapon, just in time to catch sight of some of my squad members coming back for me.
        "Play dead!" I whispered frantically to the girl. Bless her, she had the sense to lie down flat and hide beneath her robes. I replaced my helmet and stepped back into the room.
        It was Niek who spoke to me first, "What's going on, Hathe, why aren't you following?"
        I thought up an excuse quickly, "Relieving myself. Don't these damn Jedi believe in bathrooms?"
        My squadmates laughed and turned around.
        I heard Fi report back to our CO, "Yeah, he's here sir. No, he's fine, just adding some color to the walls. Sorry, sir, he's relieving himself. Yes sir, we'll be at your position soon. Yes, we'll watch ourselves and call if there's any trouble. Out."
        Niek turned to me, "Let's go."
        "Actually," I said, "I need to return to CP Alpha; my gun's dead."
        They looked and saw that I spoke the truth. I had killed the charge in my gun, effectively "flooding" the weapon with energy. A pull of the trigger and you'd walk away with some chemical burns to your armor.
        Fi nodded, "All right, but hurry up -- we'll give you our coordinates when you signal us. Be careful, and watch out for Jedi, had one smack me against a pillar before he was taken down."
       With that my squadmates left, and I was alone in the room with the girl.
       I walked over to her and shook her by the shoulder, "They're gone, don't worry, I won't hurt you, see? My weapon is completely dead. I'd have to kill you with my bare hands if I had to," I said in an attempt to be funny, but the girl retracted from me.
       "No, no, no! I didn't mean that! If you come with me I can take you to a transport and get you out of here."
       Something that a lot of people don't realize is that there's humor, and then there's clone trooper humor. There's a big difference.
       For reasons I don't know, the girl took my hand and stood up. I don't know if she read my thoughts and intentions, but she trusted me, or so it seemed. I made sure she didn't have a lightsaber and I didn't have a blaster, and we were off to find the body of Raith.
       It would have been the strangest sight in the history of the Republic; a veteran clone trooper leading a young Jedi by the hand through a war-torn temple in the middle of an order dedicated to killing Jedi.
       We found Raith's body and we set about stripping him of his armor and fastening it onto this Jedi I didn't even know.
       "Okay here's the plan; we'll pretend you're wounded and I'm airlifting you out of here. We'll do it quick and with as little talking to other troopers as possible. When we're out of range, I'll drop you off somewhere. You'll have to lose the whole braid and Jedi "ensemble", but you'll be virtually invisible provided you don't use the Force and you get somewhere where hopefully you'll be safe."
        She seemed to understand this with her nods. When we were done, the armor looked a little saggy on her, but our ploy was to make her look unconscious, not battle-ready. The final bit of preparation involved me picking her up in my arms and running towards a transport where we could get airlifted.
        We finally made it back and boarded an airship. I called Terentatek Squad and informed them that I had been reassigned to medic duty and that I would aid in transporting fallen troopers until further notice. They accepted this, and finally, the Jedi girl and I were out of the nightmare.
        I managed to persuade the medics that I would take my "trooper" into the hospital myself. When everyone left me behind with my patient, I stood her up and we walked around the hospital in search of clothes. We went into the incinerator room of the hospital and found bags of clothes. We eventually found human clothes and changed her entire appearance, even going so far as cutting off her Padawan braid. She was now an ordinary human female.
        At the entrance of the hospital, I flagged down a cab to take her. As it arrived, I told her what she should do.
        "Right, if you're going to survive, you'll have to find some form of isolation. Never return to Coruscant, and never let it be known that you are familiar with Jedi teachings. Choose a name for yourself and live a new life. Here," I said as I pulled a bag of credits from my utility belt; a souvenir from a Jedi at the Temple. "10,000 credits; it should be enough to get you where you want to go, get you dwellings, and food for a while. Good luck."
       She looked at me with wonder, not knowing what to make of me.
       "Better get going, ma'am."
       She turned and was about to enter the cab when she looked back at me.
       "Why?" She asked.
       I was a bit flabbergasted to hear her speak. I said what came to mind first, "It's all wrong." Did I really mean that?
       She nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer.
       "What's your name?" she asked.
       I hesitated. What did I give her, my designation, my squad name?
       "It's Hathe," I said.
       "I'm Sovena Aerin," she replied.
       I shook my head, "Not anymore you're not."
       The ghost of a smile drifted across her face, "You're right, I'm Nikina Dravlos," and she finally got in. I paid her fare, and the cab flew off.
       I stood there for a while, contemplating what I'd done and what would happen if my actions were found out.
       I was cut short when I received orders from my CO.
       "It's done. All the Jedi are exterminated. We're pulling you off medic duty. Rendezvous with us at this location and await further orders."
       I grabbed the next transport to the Temple and met up with my squad. I then asked them what they thought about throwing a Jedi off of the Temple.

       I haven't told a soul about any of this; my thoughts, what I did on that day, it's all been my secrets. In my spare time, I search around in random databases, looking for that young girl I saved that long time ago.
       I think I've found a lead. You wouldn't think there were so many people named Dravlos in the galaxy, but then again I've met two other Hathes in my lifetime.
       This Dravlos, though, matches the approximate age and physical description of the Jedi youth. With any luck, I'll find her again to see how she's doing.
       Wait a minute, what was that thing the Jedi used to say? Oh yeah:
       "There is no luck, there is the Force."