Part 9 (2/2)

”They'd buy a lot of land and a secure base. Will Vau be offended?”

”Not as long as Ma Vau doesn't get to wear them again.”

”How terrible to hate your parents so much. But then parents do appalling things to their children, don't they? Like poor Etain. Given away to total strangers.” Ordo pitied Jedi. It was becoming a recurring theme in his conversation. ”I'm lucky to find a father who wanted me. We all are.”

Does he think I was a bad father to my own kids? He never says.

”I'd kill for you, son,” Skirata said. ”It's that simple.”

Ordo was a good lad. A wonderful lad. He could pilot a totally unfamiliar s.h.i.+p-even stage a staggering rescue- just on intuition and one skim of the manual, then sit down and balance the accounts. Skirata, choked silent by pride and overwhelming paternal love, leaned over the pilot's seat and gave him a hug. Ordo winked, clearly pleased with him-self, and gripped Skirata's arm.

Fatherhood was a blessing. It would be a blessing for Dar-man, when the time came for him to find out, and now Skirata had both wealth and the prospect of Ko Sai's technology to guarantee a decent future for all of them.

But the future was a fragile concept for Mandalorians. To-morrow was never taken for granted by soldiers, and the Mando 'a word for it-vencuyot-conveyed optimism rather than a timescale. Venku was a good, positive Mandalorian name for any son. It would fit Darman and Etain's baby very well indeed.

Yes, Venku. That s it: Venku.

”I never adopted you formally,” Skirata said. It had been bothering him in recent days, ever since he began to think of the war as having a definite timescale. ”Any of you.”

”Does that matter?”

Skirata now felt that it did. No Mando'ad would nitpick over the bond between him and his boys, and as far as the Re-Public was concerned clones didn't even qualify as people, but his plans to give them a decent future had now become very, very specific. That discovery of Lama Su's terse mes-sage to Palpatine just over a week ago had fast-forwarded everything.

”Yes,” he said. He reached to grasp Ordo's hand and recited the short, no-frills gai bal manda-”name and soul,” all it took to unpick history and give a child a new parentage. Mandalorians were habitual adopters. Bloodlines were just medical detail. ”Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Ordo.”

Ordo stared at their clasped hands for a moment. He had a crus.h.i.+ng grip. ”I've been your son since the day you first saved my life, Buir.”

”I think you boys did the saving,” Skirata said. ”I don't want to imagine where I'd be without you.”

Skirata was now busy hating himself for not doing this be-fore, not making the ultimate commitment, and he fretted about his five other Nulls scattered around the galaxy. Some-times he saw them again as two-year-olds waiting to be culled-killed-because they didn't meet the spec the Kaminoans wanted. Uncommandable. Disturbed. Defective.

And aruetiise thought Mandalorians were savages, did they?

The galaxy was full of hypocrites.

Chapter 4.

Decree E49D139.41: All nonmilitary cloning of sentients is prohibited, and military cloning is to be confined to Republic-licensed facilities, such as those of the government of Kamino and any others designated by the Republic now or at any time during the duration of the hostilities. This prohibition encompa.s.ses the supply of cloning equipment; the hiring or contracting of cloning technologists and genetic engineers for the purpose of carrying out cloning techniques; and the procurement of sentient cloned organisms. Exemptions: Khomm, Lur, Columns, and Arkania may continue therapeutic medical cloning with appropriate license on a case-by-case basis.

-Proceedings of the Senate, Republic Legal Review * * *

Caftikar, the road to Eyat, 473 days after Geonosis ”So what's your strategy?” Darman asked the lizard, trying to build relations.h.i.+ps. ”How are you going to take over?”

Sergeant Kal said that you had to work with the locals and use their social structures to get the job done, not try to get them to work the Republic's way. Atin ambled along beside Darman and the Marit, hands in his pockets, no telltale signs of his lightweight body armor under the workman's clothes A'den had given him. It was raining and the path through the trees was muddy and puddled, but at least they had an excuse to cover their heads with hoods. Atin had a visor and two days' growth of dark beard. On a cursory glance, few would spot that they were identical.

”We crush Eyat,” the lizard said. Her name was Cebz and she had a frill of scarlet skin under her chin, apparently a sign that she was dominant and wouldn't take any backtalk from lesser lizards. She smelled of crushed leaves and carried a formidable SoroSuub blaster slung across her chest. ”We concentrate our efforts on the capital, and when that falls, the regional governments can't hold out, and we take the next tier of cities, and then the next smaller ones, and so on. We have numbers on our side.”

”I think our Chancellor could do with listening to you,” Atin said, more to himself than to her. ”He likes to start everywhere at once, so n.o.body feels left out of the war.”

”That's how we build, by cascade process,” said Cebz. ”We can also unbuild the same way.”

Her tail swished from side to side to keep her balance as she walked. The whush-whush-whush and the current of air were noticeable. ”Can you sneak up on people?” Darman asked.

Cebz stopped swinging her tail and her gait became slightly more lateral, but she was now moving silently. ”Yes.”

”So you built the cities here.”

”Yes. The hired help.”

”But you don't get a say in government.”

”We didn't get paid as much as humans. We can't live in the nice homes we built. If having a say means changing that, then yes, we want a say in government. Your other comrade in the skirt was very vexed about that, before he disappeared.”

”The first ARC? Yes, I can see how that would get Alpha-Thirty annoyed...”

”You understand. You don't have any rights, either. If you ask me, it's crazy to train an army and not keep it happy. It'll turn on you in the end.”

Atin coughed discreetly. ”You speak very good Basic.”

”Always pays to speak the customer's language.”

She came to a sudden halt, motionless. Darman's instinct was to crouch and draw his sidearm. Atin did the same. Cebz stared down at them, baffled.

”What's up?”

”You stopped dead,” Darman whispered, missing his helmet's sensors. ”Enemy contact?”

”No, but this is as far as I go. Too close to the city. Marits stand out. Heads we can cover, but the tails are a problem.” She swung around and began walking back toward the camp. ”Good luck.”

Reptilian species had that tendency to freeze and then burst into movement again, the GAR manual said. Knowing that didn't stop Darman from reacting every time. Atin watched Cebz go and turned to Darman again with a shrug. ”Just an initial recce and maybe vehicle acquisition, all right?” he said. ”Just a.s.sess the place. Just look around.”

”I swear,” Darman said. He had fake ID, credits, and the Marits' excellent plans of the city on his datapad. ”Make sure nothing's changed since the last time the data was up-dated. See how far into the government complex we can get legitimately.”

The first thing that struck him about the city was that it was clearly defined-no gradual thickening of suburbs, no ribbon development-and if he hadn't been able to see the shapes of the perimeter buildings, he'd have thought it was a walled bastion. There was little traffic entering and leaving, and it was almost entirely made up of big vessels-repulsor trucks and shuttles. The citizens of Eyat didn't venture far afield.

”Siege in all but name,” Atin said. ”They're scared of the Marits.”

”So how do we explain that we walked in?”

Atin tapped his blaster. ”We're young, tough, and crazy.”

”I'll buy that.”

”And from out of town.”

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