Elite. Best of the best. Top of the line, the cream of the crop. These phrases were all used when associated with a certain type soldier in the Grand Army of the Republic. The ARC?s Advanced Recon Commando?s. Clones that were genetically different from their common brothers. They trained separately, worked separately. Even the Clone Commando Squads looked up to the ARC troopers. The ARC?s were just a different breed. A platoon of normal Clones, approximately 24 men, could be roughly associated with the amount of high performance work that a Commando squad of four would pull off. A single Commando Squad of four could typically pull off what a single ARC could do in the same amount of time. If there were more than one ARC in an operation? The Commando?s couldn?t hold a flame to the results that were produced. ARC troopers were simply?. The best there was. Front line combat, shadow ops, scout missions, battlefield planning and unit placement, hacking, demolitions, marksmanship. ARC?s did it all. They were smart. They were fast. And they were effective. Rarely was a full unit of ARC?s assembled for missions. Because of their value to the Republic, the ARC troopers were ordinarily separated from one another to achieve maximum effect on the galactic battlegrounds. However, certain times call for certain measures. The CIS forces were getting stronger, and much larger. The GAR simply couldn?t hatch enough clones to compensate for their losses. Something had to be done quickly to quell the situation. A new unit was being pulled together. Consisting of generally lower ranking ARC Troopers of Captain rank or lower. An entire unit of ARC?s, to fight the war behind the scenes. To stop the CIS by destroying their foundations. Finding and destryong supply routes, stopping secret bank accounts. Anything it took to obliterate the CIS from their core. Sometimes it would be frontline combat, sometimes it would be a shakedown on Coruscant to arrest arms dealers. Whatever it took. Officially, these ARC?s were recorded as Killed In Action. They no longer existed. They took Orders from encoded messages, sent from a single General. Their methods were unrecorded. They would never get recognition from their handlers. Only a good job and another message with the next mission. Other clone soldiers would not recognize them from their armor markings. Their call sign was Mirage?.. This is their story? --------------------------------------------------------------- BOOM!!! ARC Trooper B-215 stood with his two companions on the top of a 1500 story building. Flames and smoke billowing out of a crater that used to be a Surface to Space rail gun. The gun had made a landing force for the Republic Army impossible without taking heavy losses. The three ARCs stood with their arms crossed as the wind blew their Mandalorian Kamas around wildly behind them. B-215 moved his gaze skyward as a mass of Republic cruisers decended from the atmosphere. In the distance, he could hear skirmishes already underway. He nodded as he placed two fingers to the side of his helmet. ?Master Windu, this is Bravo two-one five?.. Mission accomplished. Requesting Evac or new mission priority.? The comm. crackled with a moment of static before General Mace Windu?s voice responded. ?Well done Captain Wraith. Stand fast at your present location, transport in-bound for pickup.? ?Copy that Sir.? Bravo 217 looked over at Wraith and lifted his chin in question. 217 was Wraith?s Lieutenant, clad in the blue markings of his ranking. Wraith acknowledged his trusted second in command with a nod. ?Pickup en-route, check weapons and ammo and prepare for evac.? Five standard minutes later, the thrumming of a Republic drop ship could be heard. It swooped down next to the edge of the building. Before Wraith and his companions could step forward, Mace Windu hopped out, his robes flapping in the wild wind at the high altitude. All three troopers immediately snapped to attention and gave crisp, precise salutes. General Windu waved a hand at them. ?At ease?