Part 14 (2/2)
”Do we exploit people like Jusik and Etain and Besany, or do we give them something they need?” Ordo asked. ”These people who gravitate to us-they so want a community, a family, and that's the one thing we have in abundance. But I don't know where to draw the line. I just feel bad for them.”
”Family's about being willing to do that, Ord'ika,” Skirata said, and steered him toward the gunwell access. ”No holding back. We give all we've got, too.”
”What if she doesn't want to come with us?”
”Besany?”
”Yes. We're planning to desert, aren't we? It's going to be a life on the run. What if she says, Sorry, Ordo, I like my life on Coruscant too much? What if she tells me to get lost?”
The two of them seemed a long way from that kind of commitment, but the Nulls had come out of the Kaminoans' genetic tinkering with a capacity for instant, unshakable devotion. If they took to you, they'd die for you. If they didn't, you were dead meat. That was what happened when the genes that influenced loyalty and bonding were overcooked. But it was an existing Mandalorian tendency that the Kaminoans had exploited, and Ordo was only making the same snap decision on which partner he wanted that Skirata and most other Mando males made.
Besany had to stand by Ordo. Kal couldn't bear to see the lad's heart broken. He wanted so much for the boy, for all of them.
”She won't let you down, son,” Skirata said.
She couldn't even if she wanted to. She was now in this up to her neck. Coruscant would never be the same safe home again for Besany Wennen.
Chapter 6.
We have laws on how we treat sentient species. We have laws on how we treat animals and semi-sentients. We even have laws protecting plants. But we have absolutely no laws whatsoever governing the welfare of done troops- human beings. They have no legal status, no rights, no freedoms, and no representation. Every one of you here who accepted this army without murmur should hang your head in shame. If that s the depths we as a Republic can sink to in the name of democracy, it hardly surprises me that the CIS wants to break away. The end can never justify means like this.
-Senator Den Skeenah of Chandrila, addressing the Senate eighteen months after the Battle of Geonosis, after setting up a charitable appeal to fund the only veterans' welfare facility in the Republic * * *
Rebel camp, Gaftikar, 473 days after Geonosis Fi stared at Darman and Atin as they hauled Sull out of the speeder and half carried him to the center of the camp. The ARC trooper was hobbled, but it hadn't stopped him from taking a good kick at Atin when they had bundled him into the vehicle. He looked ready to kill now.
Darman felt guilty. I'd be doing the same. I wouldn't let Anyone take me alive.
Fi stood with hands on hips. ”So he followed you home, and now you want to keep him?” He looked Sull up and down and tutted loudly. ”I suppose you couldn't resist his big appealing eyes.”
Atin peeled off Sul's gag.
”Shove it,” snarled the ARC.
Darman held up his bandaged hand. It was swollen and throbbing despite bacta and a one-shot of antibiotic. ”He bites, too.”
”Just keep him off the furniture.” Fi turned toward the camp buildings, two fingers in his mouth, and delivered a piercing whistle. ”Now watch A'den lose his temper. It's very entertaining.”
A'den came at a run from one of the buildings, now wearing his ARC armor with its dark green sergeant's trim, helmet clipped at the small of his back and rattling against the belt of his kama. Sull stared. A small circle of curious Mar-its started to form.
The Null skidded to a halt and wheeled around on them, face like thunder. ”And you lot can clear off. This is trooper business. Get lost! Usenye!”
Even the dominant lizards with their red frills scattered as if he'd lobbed a grenade among them. A'den had that edge, just like Ordo and the others, the look and the tone that said he was a man who would erupt into unpredictable violence: even nonhumans picked it up and heeded the warning.
”So . . . you took a prisoner,” A'den said, all the scarier for suddenly being softly spoken. ”Did you think it through at all? You make a habit of this. I heard it was Fi who brought home strays last time.”
”Dynamic risk a.s.sessment,” Fi said.
”Making it up as you go along.”
”Same thing.”
”Di'kut.”
But Darman had done what he had to. He didn't plan on apologizing for that. ”He was supposed to be MIA, not AWOL.”
”Well, he was missing, and he is in action. Just not for the Republic.” A'den looked Sull over, and Darman wondered it he was looking for injuries or just finding a fresh spot to make a bruise. ”And you can't be absent without leave if you don't get leave. So n.o.body lied to you, did they?”
Atin seemed to get it a few moments later than Darman. ”You knew he'd gone over to the Seps?”
”Some things are best left alone,” said A'den. ”I worked it out.”
”Sure you did.” Sull seemed to latch on to A'den as a brother ARC and decided he ran the show. He turned his back on Darman. ”I haven't gone over, as you put it. I'm just not fighting for the Republic anymore.”
”Subtle legal point. You'll have to explain it.”
”So now that you've got me, what are you going to do? You don't have a long list of options for a deserter.”
Deserter. Darman wished A'den had shot him. Somehow Sull would have seemed more honorable if he'd taken up arms for the Seps rather than sitting out the war while brother clones like Sicko-he never forgot Sicko, none of them did-died at the front. But Sull didn't strike him as a coward. Niner jogged across the clearing in his black under-suit, towel draped around his neck, and Darman braced for a lecture on doing things by the book. Fi moved in to intercept him.
”What I do next depends on how much grief you'll create for me and my brothers,” A'den said. He took a look at the ARC's bound wrists as if he was thinking of untying them and then seemed to change his mind. ”So we can stand here like the cabaret at the Outlander, amusing the Marits, or dis-cuss this in private.”
Sull was unbowed. ”Why not just shoot me now while I'm still trussed, spook? Because I'm not going back to the GAR. If you want to make me, one of us is going to have to kill the other.”
”Fierfek, what are you two?” Niner said. ”Hibel spiders? Cut the osik. Regulations are clear. He's a traitor. We take him in.”
”Niner, shut it.” A'den took out a vibroblade, ducked down, and sliced through the plastoid tape around Sull's ankles. ”And any kicking or biting, ner vod, and I'll remove something you're very attached to. Civilized chat, like comrades. Got it?”
Sull paused, seemed to consider dismemberment, and then nodded.
They had an audience again. The Marit rebels had edged nearer, one lizard at a time, and were now standing in earshot with their heads c.o.c.king back and forth in curiosity. A'den turned with slow menace, and they scattered again. He hadn't said Omega couldn't follow, though, so the four of them trooped after him and sat down on the long bench in the spa.r.s.ely furnished ops room to .watch the conversation. It was a grand name for the place. The Marits had built their camp like they built the homes for the humans in Eyat, and the HQ building was a comfortable little house with sliding interior walls and shutters made from translucent luet bark, utterly unmilitary in every respect. It would vanish in a ball of flame if anything bigger than a stun round hit it.
Rebel camp? It was a village. The weapons and artillery pieces were real, though, and the citizens of Eyat didn't appear to venture out of their city strongholds.
A'den dragged a chair across the planked floor and sat Sull down, hands still tied behind his back, while he stalked around the room. He gave Omega a glance that told them they would be watching in silence and taking notes.
”So,” he said. ”Tell me when you first lost your enthusiasm for a long-term military career in the glorious Grand Army of the Republic.”
”Let me see.” Sull looked up theatrically at a point above and to the right. ”I think it was when they blew my buddy's brains out. Yes, I do believe it was.”
”Who's they?” Darman asked. ”You keep saying they.” A'den raised an eyebrow. ”I'm doing the interrogation.”
”He asked if they had sent me, Sergeant.”
”Okay.” A'den patted Sull's head, more like a couple of slow slaps by way of warning. ”Answer the man.”
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