There is a scene from AOTC that always sends chills down my spine (no, not like the ones that shirtless Anakin gives me . . . ). Obi-Wan looks out onto the gleaming sea of synchronized clones, and as the music reaches a frenzied crescendo, his face takes on a look that, to me, seems to be a combination of awe, surprise, and fear. For if the Jedi had always been a symbol of diplomacy and justice, of calmer, just heads prevailing in a galaxy fraught with constant civil and interplanetary strife, then surely these clones, having been bred for the sole purpose of tipping the scales in a carefully orchestrated galactic conflict, must have tripped a mental alarm that said, 'I've got a bad feeling about this'.

For as Yoda said after the Battle of Geonosis, this was no true 'victory' in the eyes of anyone who was perceptive enough to see the writing on the wall, and wise enough to be able to translate the Sith message: the days of diplomacy were over, and 'begun, the Clone Wars (had)'.

The Clone Wars novels reinforce Yoda's sense of impending doom during this period where 'the dark side clouds everything'. And yet, the galaxy still pinned their hopes on our protagonists. One can almost imagine the wanna-be padawans across the galaxy wielding sticks and pretending to be either Anakin, 'the hero with no fear', or General Kenobi, or some other star of the holonets.

But what of the clones? If all glory is due to the Jedi, who were 'identified' as Force-sensitive beings and given over to a life where service expected, why is it that the clones seemed to be shunned at worst, and grudgungly tolerated at best? Certainly, it is understandable that the very nature of their existence would make many uncomfortable; these military #######s were, after all, the love child of a callous bounty hunter's DNA and an aspiring dictator's clandestine plans for world domination. And of course, some of us OG's who know how the whole thing turns out in the OT were kind of bugged out watching these guys in the prequels. I mean, come on, during our childhood, the white armor was synonymous with the empire we loved to hate!

But even this, we can't pin on the clones themselves. They didn't ask to be . . . well . . . cloned. They didn't ask for Order 66. They didn't ask to become the frontlines of the Empire's twisted campaign for galactic dominance. Left with only the support and companionship of each other, they followed orders and fulfilled their own, seemingly less glorious destiny: to become, not warriors, but spokes in the Emperor's wheel of destruction.

Veteran's Day notwithstanding, I wouldn't have given any of this a second thought if I hadn't read The Cestus Deception. Human nature being what it is (and despite their laboratory origins, these guys are, after, all human), one of the clones has defied his clone heritage and begun thinking thoughts that a well-behaved clone shouldn't even be capable of. He tires of his number and choses a new name for himself - Jangotat, a head-nod to his genetic forefather. He does something a well-behave clone should never dream of doing - he defies orders and thinks creatively and independently. He even exhibits the most human of behaviors - he falls in love. He becomes, in essence, something most of us never percieve him or his commrades to be - a 'real' human being.

And yet, these are not the guys we glorify - we love the Jedi, but we, like many in the GFFA 'tolerate' the need for the clones' existence. We cringe from the rows of white helmets like Obi-Wan did, as he stood in awe of what his struggle had become.

I remember standing in awe the first time I saw the sea of white markers at Arlington National Cemetery. I cringe when I think of what the world has become that so many had to die (or what human nature always has been, maybe, because wars are nothing new, but the exponentional growth of the number of casualties is). I am saddened that, like the Jedi, the names of the generals are the ones are children will read about in the history books, but the Jangotats won't be mentioned.

Much respect to the veterans, past and present.