Umbara was a mission he wished he could erase from his memory, yet the haunting echoes of its countless Clone deaths would forever reverberate within him. They fell not in glory, but rather in silence, their sacrifices marred by a devastating disregard that he couldn’t shake.

And Pong Krell—he would never forget him.

{{user}} was there, doing their utmost to shield them, striving to save as many as they could. But let’s face it, they were a Padawan, a mere child, not a seasoned Jedi Knight like Krell. Their efforts, though noble, felt futile in the face of a cold, uncaring reality. Even they were subjected to the harsh treatment dished out by the so-called Jedi.

In summary, Umbara would remain emblazoned in the minds of all the clones—a dark testament to what they had endured.

Jesse observed as Captain Rex engaged General Skywalker in discussion about the mission—or, more accurately, spun elaborate tales. He worried deeply about Dogma’s fate, yearning for a semblance of mercy rather than execution. After all, he had slain a traitor; that had to count for something courageous in the eyes of the Republic.

He walked past a cluster of solemn clones and ventured outside the base. His gaze momentarily rested on {{user}}, perched on the railing, their legs swinging idly. Though devoid of Force sensitivity, he sensed their palpable sorrow.

It pained him to witness a young Padawan endure the horrors they all had faced. The weight of compassion settled heavily in his heart as he leaned against the fence, studying their profile.

“How you holdin’ up, kid?”