Part 42 (1/2)

”Home,” said Obrim.

He wasn't joking. At the speeder bay, an unmarked CSF transport was waiting with its rear hatch open. The para-medics loaded Fi on board and got in beside him. Obrim fol-lowed in his own speeder with Besany.

”It's amazing what you can rent,” he said, as if none of the drama had taken place only minutes earlier. ”You can rent med droids to look after Granny at home. So I've rented one for Fi. I mean, I'd look after him myself, but I don't know how to get feeding tubes and saline in him.”

”What's your wife going to say?”

”I don't know. I just said I was bringing someone home she had to keep quiet about. She's pretty used to some of the irregularities in this job.”

”Thanks, Captain. Thank you so much.”

”It's Jailer. I think we know each other well enough now, don't we?”

”Yes. I think so.”

The first hurdle was cleared. She'd managed to get Fi to safety, thanks largely to the conscience of a bunch of cops who were taking a risk themselves, whatever Obrim said. But the real struggle lay ahead, and it might have no ending for a long, long time.

Fi was still in a deep coma, and as far as medicine was concerned, he was dead.

But he was still breathing. Besany was getting used to see-ing the impossible happen. It could happen again.

Arca Barracks, SO Brigade HQ, Coruscant, 483 days after Geonosis Corr had the air of a guilty man, and Darman remembered that feeling from when he'd first walked into Omega Squad, after the commando brigades took ma.s.sive losses in the first weeks of the war and squads were re-formed as men died.

But Corr was RC-5108/8843 now, a member of Omega Squad proper, and not just attached to them. He walked into the barracks recreation room in his new armor-Fi's rig, helmet under one arm-but didn't seem comfortable in it.

The whole neat designation system had gone down the tubes with Corr, too. He wasn't just one of the many troopers now cross-trained in commando skills; he was a s.h.i.+ny boy, a real Republic commando, and Skirata insisted that he have the code to match even if his numbers didn't fit.

Darman was determined to make him welcome. ” 'Cuy, vod'ika” He slapped the seat next to him. ”Park your shebs there. We'd pour you some of the GAR-issue caf but we like you too much for that. We're waiting for Sergeant Kal.”

Corr sat down as ordered, and Niner and Atin leaned across to clasp his arm.

”You can slip into something more comfortable,” Niner said, indicating their bodysuits. ”That plastoid can crimp the important places after a while.”

Corr started removing plates as if they were burning him. ”Any news on Fi?” he asked.

”Waiting to hear what happened at the medcenter.” Niner pa.s.sed him a carton of warra nut cookies, which was unconditional acceptance as far as Omega were concerned. Dar-man noted that Corr wasn't wearing the synthflesh coating on his prosthetic hands, so he had some point he needed to make. ”Last we heard, Sergeant Kal had sent in the heavy mob.”

”Ordo?”

”Agent Wennen and Captain Obrim.”

”Ah.” Darman winced. Corr had been the object of Besany's interest until Ordo took his place-literally. If the former trooper felt that the Null captain had muscled in on his girl, he showed no sign of it. She'd been very kind to him while he was recovering on desk duties, he'd said. That was all.

It'd take a lot more than Besany's kindness to put Fi back on his feet.

Corr was uneasy. It was inevitable. ”I just wanted to say something before we go any further.”

”Get it off your chest, ner vod” said Atin. ”I won't be trying to replace Fi.” Corr blurted it out as if he'd been thinking about it for a long time and now wanted to get it over with. ”I might wear the armor but I'm not the man, and I'm not going to compete with him. When he's fit, I'm out again, okay?”

Maybe he was being diplomatic, or he might not have realized how bad things were. Darman didn't explain.

”It's okay,” said Atin. ”I was one of Vau's trainees. Joining this bunch was a bit rough.”

”Was not,” Niner muttered. He'd never been one for a good laugh, but he tried hard-painfully hard-because morale was the squad sergeant's job as far as he was concerned. ”It was Daruvvian champagne all the way.”

Darman tried to join in the determined jollity, but Corr still had the dent on his chest plate where Fi had had a dis-agreement with a grenade, and there was no shared joke to be had about it. It was going to be very hard without Fi.

”So you've enjoyed a rich social education with Mereel and Kom'rk, have you?” Darman never felt he could talk about that in front of Fi, because Fi so desperately wanted a nice girl, as he put it, and any talk of relations.h.i.+ps got to him. Now he'd never get the chance. ”I saw Kom'rk once, but he doesn't seem as...”

And that was as far as Darman got. Grief ambushed him. He found that all he could do was sit forward with his elbows braced on his knees, both hands to his mouth to stop the searing ache in his throat and eyes from turning into uncontrollable sobbing. He froze, scared to move in case that started him off. Eventually Corr ruffled his hair hard, just like Skirata did, and Darman got his breath under control enough to speak.

”That's what really gets to me,” he said. ”He didn't get what he really wanted, someone to love him, and now he never will, and I'm angry.”

”Okay, Dar.” Atin joined in the hair ruffling. ”Udesii. You can't do anything about it now.”

”He's not dead,” said Miner quietly. Darman could feel it hanging over them, the conversation that had seemed fine when they didn't realize how much damage he'd suffered, but now couldn't be spoken aloud be-cause it was too awful. What was not-dead? How did the medics know Fi couldn't sense what was going on around him? Brain-dead people sometimes regained consciousness and then reported what they'd heard during the coma, and Darman could think of nothing more awful at that moment than Fi being trapped in some terrible paralysis but feeling everything. Dead was better. He wanted a cleaner end than Fi.

”Call Etain,” Niner suggested. ”She always cheers you up.”

But Darman didn't want to call her just to rage about how unfair things were. He settled down with a holozine so no-body would talk to him for a while, and the others played blades, throwing knives into a target board divided into rings and quadrants. When he'd come to terms with this, he'd have something more positive to say to her. They could talk about where they'd go when they got some leave together. I can't imagine a mission without Fi now. The doors opened. Skirata wandered in dressed in his civvies-brown bantha leather jacket-with Ordo, Vau, and Mird behind, and simply walked up to each of the squad in turn and hugged them in silence. Then Jusik came in, and everyone turned to stare.

”I thought you were still with Delta when I spoke to you.” Skirata said, and it was obvious he hadn't planned to meet him here. ”What happened?”

”Delta can handle Dorumaa without me.” Jusik didn't look his old self, either: he was usually the essence of calm good humor however bad things got, but he didn't seem remotely serene or accepting now. His face looked hard rather than thin; he was all rigid determination. ”I was only there to slow them down last time. Fi needs me more.”

”What d'you mean, Fi needs you more?”

”I'm going to try healing him.”

n.o.body said a word. Jedi could heal, but they didn't do miracles. Skirata lowered his voice in that way he had when things were going badly wrong and he needed to break the news gently.

”Okay, son,” he said. ”But Zey's going to skin you alive. He sent you back to do the Dorumaa job again. He won't take kindly to you going off like this.”

”With respect, Zey can shove it.”

”You sure about that, Bard'ika? When the war's over, you'll still be a Jedi, and he'll still be your boss.”

”Ah, no, that's where we differ, Kal. We've forgotten what it is to be Jedi. So I'm going to do some real Jedi work now, and help someone in trouble rather than talk big concepts and run errands for politicians. Where's Fi?”

”Jailer's found a safe place for him.” Skirata turned to the squad. ”You never heard this conversation. Things got a bit hairy at the medcenter, and Besany had to ... well, blasters were involved. And Jailer. And half the ATU lads.”

It was the point at which Fi would have made some witty observation had he been there. The silence was painful.

”Sooner I start, the better chance I have,” Jusik said. ”Take me there, Kal. Please.”

”They'll kick you out of the Order, son. As long as you can face that, fine.”

”Look, if you won't take me, I'll find him on my own, be-cause I'm really good at that, aren't I? One of my uses. Scanning by Jedi.”