"They're assigning you to what?" Hunter snapped, his voice slicing through the quiet hum of the barracks. He stood by the door, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his dark gaze locked on Sayuri as she methodically packed her bags. His posture was tense, the slight twitch in his jaw betraying his frustration.

Sayuri didn't glance up from her task, folding a spare tunic with calm precision. The gleaming hilt of her lightsaber sat beside her pack, a silent reminder of her duty. Her long, white braid shimmered under the dim lighting as it swayed with her movements.

"You heard me," she replied evenly. "Serenno."

Hunter scoffed, his voice rising. "Serenno? That place is a death trap! What's Tarkin thinking, sending you there alone?" His fists clenched at his sides. "After everything we've been through, they still don't trust us."

"They don't need to trust us," Sayuri said softly, tucking a small medkit into her pack. "They need results."

"That doesn't mean you have to walk into their trap!" Crosshair growled from his corner, his voice low and biting. He leaned against the wall, toothpick clenched between his teeth, eyes narrowed in thought. "Tarkin isn't sending you there to succeed. He's sending you there to fail."

Tech glanced up from his datapad, adjusting his goggles with a quick flick of his fingers. "Statistically speaking, the odds of survival on Serenno are significantly reduced without proper backup. Particularly for a Jedi." His tone was clinical, but concern flickered behind his sharp eyes.

Sayuri paused, closing her pack and resting her hands on it for a moment. "I know what it looks like," she admitted. "But if I refuse this mission, it won't be me they punish. It'll be you. The Batch." Her voice softened. "I'm not going to let that happen."

Silence hung in the air like a heavy cloud.

"Why'd you hide that scar, Sayuri?" Wrecker's voice cut through the tension, rough but unusually quiet. His brow furrowed as he stepped closer. "You've had it since Kamino, right? But you never said anything."

Sayuri straightened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Slowly, she pulled off her glove, revealing the jagged scar that ran from her palm up to her wrist. It glowed faintly, as if the Force itself lingered in the wound.

"It wasn't important," she murmured, tracing the mark with her fingers. "I didn't want to worry you."

Echo frowned, stepping forward. "That's not true." His voice was quiet, but firm. "You didn't hide it to protect us. You hid it because it's a reminder. Isn't it?"

Sayuri's sapphire eyes lifted, meeting Echo's gaze. There was no judgment there—only understanding.

"Yes," she admitted. "It's a reminder of what they've taken from us. Of what we've lost." Her voice wavered for a moment, but she steadied it. "But it's also a reminder that we're still here. That we survived."

Hunter took a step forward, his expression softening. "And we'll keep surviving. Together."

Sayuri smiled faintly. "Together," she echoed. Her gaze swept across the room, landing on each of them in turn. Crosshair, brooding but protective. Tech, analytical but loyal. Echo, haunted but resilient. Wrecker, fierce but gentle. Hunter, their leader, unwavering in his support.

"I'll be back," she promised. "This mission won't be the end of me."

Crosshair snorted, finally spitting out his toothpick. "It better not be. Otherwise, we're coming after you."

Sayuri chuckled, her usual calm demeanor returning. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

As she slung her pack over her shoulder, Hunter stepped closer. "We'll be watching your back. One way or another."

Sayuri nodded, her braid swinging behind her as she turned toward the door. "I know."

The Batch watched her go, the echoes of her footsteps fading down the hall.

"She'll be fine," Wrecker said, his voice quiet but hopeful.

Crosshair glanced at him, then back at the door. "She better be."

And somewhere, deep in the shadows of the galaxy, trouble brewed.

SCENEBREAK'

Rex sighed deeply, his weathered hands massaging his temples as the weight of command bore down on him once more. "No, Wolffe. I haven't seen her," he said, exhaustion threading through each word like a well-worn battle scar. The absence of Commander Wolffe from the Wolfpack cast long shadows across what remained of their brotherhood, each passing day marking another hollow space where camaraderie once stood.

Commander Vam'tor's inquiry about Wolffe's location puzzled Rex - another mystery in a galaxy already drowning in secrets. The grizzled veteran commander loomed before him, his cybernetic eye casting an eerie red glow that seemed to pierce through Rex's very thoughts. "You better be telling the truth here, friend," Wolffe growled, each word carrying the weight of their shared history and the threat of shattered trust. His boots struck the holo-projector's floor with military precision as he departed, each echoing step a reminder of their training on Kamino.

The silence barely had time to settle before another clone materialized from the shadows, clutching a datapad with trembling hands. The mission report for Serenno glowed with an ominous blue light. "Sayuri's going there," he whispered, his voice carrying the same disbelief that Rex felt coursing through his veins.

Rex's mind raced with strategic calculations, each scenario more dire than the last. The question burned in his thoughts like a plasma torch: Why in the underworld would the Empire send her there? They're practically throwing her to her death. The realization sat heavy in his gut like durasteel, knowing that somewhere in the vast expanse of space, another soldier was being led into what could only be described as a death trap.

"He said we have to send a portal for her," Rex muttered, each word heavy with the exhaustion of a thousand battles. His fingers traced absently over the holotable's edge, mind lost in memories of campaigns long past. The blue glow cast harsh shadows across his face, highlighting the premature age lines etched by war.

Just then, Flamethrower strode in, his armor bearing the scars of recent combat. His expression carried the weight of a man who'd seen too much darkness. "We can't, sir. It's too horrific, and it's crawling with Separatist remnants," he reported, his voice tight with barely contained frustration. "If we send a portal in there, they'll die." The last words hung in the air like smoke after an orbital bombardment.

Rex sighed, a sound that echoed with longing and regret. He missed Sayuri - missed the fierce determination in her eyes, the way she could rally troops with just a word. The desire to fight alongside her again, to see her beautiful face light up with that familiar warrior's spirit, pulled at him like a gravitational field. But such wishes were luxuries he couldn't afford, not anymore. The harsh reality of their situation pressed down on him like the weight of his own armor. His duty lay here, with the remaining clones who fought against the Empire's ruthless grip on the galaxy. Their brotherhood, forged in the fires of the Clone Wars, now tested in the crucible of rebellion.