“Are those even practical?” Iruka hisses, unable to tear his eyes away from his mission partner.

Agen digs his fingers into the silver-veined bark, smiling a little. Pushes upright, flicking his hair back behind his shoulder, and pulls his outer robe off, draping it over a branch. “A trooper in distress,” he says, stepping forward. “I believe Jedi are supposed to rectify such things.” Two pairs of dark eyes snap to him, and Fives's widen with glee. He wriggles harder under Echo's pinning weight, like a landed fish, and cries, “General Kolar, help! I'm being overrun!”

In the first months of the war, A'Sharad finds a whole tribe of his people viciously slaughtered, with only one survivor. What begins as an investigation to find the culprit and a mission from the Council to support Tatooine's petition to enter the Republic rapidly turns into something else entirely, though, and A'Sharad, his padawan, and their tiny clone squad find themselves caught up in mysteries that can be traced all the way back to the start of the Republic.