501st: An Imperial Commando Novel (41 page)

“Coordinates?”

“If Jaing can find them, that’ll come in handy.”

Ny didn’t dare say a word. This wasn’t the time to provoke Skirata. She knew him well enough by now to
realize that he switched into a savagely protective mode when he thought his family was under threat, and in that state of mind he’d think nothing of destroying whole planets, let alone individual beings. She wasn’t even sure he’d regret it afterward.

He’s not like the men you knew back home. He grew up without rules. He’s always been on the edge of survival. He’s not Papa Kal all the time
.

“Hasn’t
Bard’ika
called in yet?” Skirata asked.

“Not yet. Give him a couple of hours.”

Skirata seemed placated. He walked over to Ny’s chair, eyes still fixed on the flimsi sheets, and patted her on the head just like he did the clones.

“They used you up, Ny,” he said, still not looking at her. “Now it’s
our
turn.”

He settled down in the chair again and went on reading. Occasionally, he snorted to himself, or said
“Shab …”
and shook his head. Eventually Jaing came into the kitchen with a thick sheaf of printed flimsi and dumped it on the table.

“There you go, and that’s just a third of it,” he said. “Poor old Camas. It would really tick him off to know we were pawing through all his data. Can I have a caf break now?”

“Son, you’re a genius.”

“And modest with it. No
Bard’ika
yet? Maybe Ruu got him back for that Force punch at the POW camp. She’s a chip off the old block,
Kal’buir
—never forgets a grudge.”

“Munit tome’tayl, skotah iisa.”
Skirata winked. “That’s
long memory, short fuse
, Ny. The Mandalorian character.”

She didn’t know what to make of that. “I’ll leave you lads to it,” she said, getting up and passing his chair. “Time for my rounds.”

“Ny, it’s no big deal.” Skirata caught her arm, as if he did that all the time. “We’re pretty sure you were just a name on a list. Nothing else.”

“I know,” she said. But she also knew he’d corner
Scout and ask her why she’d approached
Cornucopia
, just to double-check, and that in his position she’d have done exactly the same.

Ny wandered around the house, checking who was where, as if the place was her ship and she was securing hatches for launch. Habit was comforting. Scout was with Uthan in the lab, deep in a conversation that looked as if it was doing both of them good, two lost souls whose societies had been wiped out in an instant. Kina Ha was dozing in her room—or maybe she was meditating. Besany was trying to get Kad to stand still to measure him for clothing. He was growing fast.

Parja stood outside Arla’s room. The door was slightly open, and Ny could hear Laseema talking. Parja tapped her blaster in its holster.

“Not taking any chances,” she whispered. “The sooner
Mij’ika
gets back with something stronger for her, the better.”

Outside, Ny could see Jilka and Corr ambling arm in arm along the edge of the stream. That was definitely a romance in progress. In the distance, she could hear the sound of vibrosaws and occasional shouts as Levet and the Yayax boys built a fence. Or maybe it was a barn. She really didn’t know what they got up to most of the time, but they seemed happy enough doing it.

Whatever was happening in the rest of the galaxy, life here was making a ferocious effort to get back to normal.

Her rounds took her the full distance of the perimeter, enough of a walk to clear her head and put things in perspective. As she completed the circle and walked back through the yard, dodging the nuna as they squabbled over mudworms, she spotted Fi sitting on the wall, staring across to the woods.

He didn’t notice her for a moment. He looked utterly dejected, shoulders sagging, and he hung his head for a moment as if he was crying. When her boots crunched on some gravel, he looked up and instantly transformed into cheerful, wisecracking Fi again.

“So, are you going to call the cops and report your freighter stolen?” he said.
“Bard’ika’
s probably wrapped it around a tree by now. He’s as mad as a box of Hapan chags when he gets into a pilot’s seat.”

Ny sat down next to him, wincing at the sharp edge of the brick under her backside, and put her arm around his shoulders.

“Cut the act,
ad’ika,”
she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Okay, I’m upset about Dar and Niner. I really miss them. I really need to see them again. Am I going to live long enough to see them come home?”

He looked at her for a while as if he was expecting her to tell him to get a grip. She hadn’t realized how rapid aging would start to trouble the clones. Maybe they all felt a sense of life racing past them now, faced with the changing seasons on a rural planet. Time was visible here.

Yes, Kal. I
do
understand. I understand why you’d do anything for these boys
.

“Of course you will, Fi,” she said. “It’s not going to be forever. And everyone beats the odds here, right? Look at you. Good as new.”

“Not quite. But good enough.”

Ny kept him company, pulling up her collar against the chilly spring wind. She hoped he was joking about Jusik’s piloting skills. Liability or not, that freighter was her last link to her old life. There were memories of Terin in it. She wasn’t sure when she’d be ready to let go of them completely.

Cornucopia
settled on its dampers, and Ruu leaned back in her seat. The silence in the cockpit almost throbbed.

“Okay, I’ll head Dad off,” she said at last. “You know he’s going to go nuts, don’t you?”

“I’ll deal with him.” Jusik unbuckled his seat restraint and turned to fix Maze and Zey with a warning stare. “Not a word until I’ve placated him, okay?”

Maze, arms folded, looked more intimidating now than he ever had in his smart white armor. Jusik wasn’t sure if it was just the stubble or the look in his eyes.

“I’m not afraid of the old barve,” Maze said. “I did this. I’ll be just fine telling him why.”

Zey looked crushed. He was a big man, a big personality, but all Jusik could feel from him was a sense of guilt that dwarfed him.

“I could just turn around and disappear again,” Zey said. “It’d be better for everyone.”

Ruu leaned across the console and pressed the hatch controls. “Not now you know where we are. You’re not going anywhere until Dad says you can.”

Maze gave Jusik a mock bow of the head. “After you,
Bard’ika.
”

It had to be done. Like all awkward things, it was best done quickly and without prevarication, Jusik decided. He wondered if he should have warned Ordo before the ship landed. But that just meant someone else had the task of breaking the news to
Kal’buir
. Jusik couldn’t dodge his responsibilities like that. The hatch ramp beckoned like a condemned man’s last walk to a scaffold.

What made it worse was Skirata’s warm welcome when Jusik stepped off the ramp onto Kyrimorut’s soil. Ordo stood right behind him.

“Good to have you back, son,” Skirata said.

“You might change your mind when you see what I’ve brought back with me.”

“Ah, never.” Skirata, all smiles, looked past Jusik into the open hatch. “Maze is okay. Isn’t he,
Ord’ika
?”

“I don’t mean him.”
Say it. Just spit it out. “Buir
, Maze had someone with him when we picked him up. And it was me who decided not to dump him out the air lock.”

Skirata half smiled. “As long as it’s not some Death Watch
shabuir.
”

“No. I brought back Arligan Zey.”

Somehow, Jusik had managed to forget what would be the biggest shock for Skirata; the fact that Zey was still alive at all. Skirata just stared into his face, blinking, as if he knew he hadn’t heard right and was trying to guess which words his failing hearing had mangled. But the news didn’t stop Ordo in his tracks.

“Maze
shot him,”
Ordo said. “I heard the blaster discharge. I left them both in Zey’s office.”

“Well, whatever—Zey’s alive, and Maze saved him.” Jusik stepped forward and caught Skirata’s shoulders. “
Buir
, I’m sorry. I had to make a snap decision. It was probably the wrong one.”

Skirata looked ashen. That was worse than seeing him erupt into a rage. He looked slightly to one side of Jusik, probably not believing that Zey really would come out that hatch.

“Why, son?” His voice was a whisper. “Why didn’t you comm me first?”

Jusik wanted to die of shame. His first substantial act after Skirata adopted him was a moment of madness, dangerous madness that made everything worse. He didn’t deserve a father like this.

“Stupidity,” Jusik said.

And maybe I’m not as Mandalorian as I think I am
.

Ordo stepped in and took over, as he always did when he sensed things were about to get out of hand. He stormed up the ramp and vanished into the ship. For all Jusik’s extra senses, he wasn’t taking in the feeling in the Force because he was so fixed on the shocked pain on Skirata’s face. He heard raised voices—Ruu, Maze, Ordo—and he was aware of movement in the background as Fi, Besany, and Ny came out of the house to see what was going on.

Jusik knew that the quieter Skirata was, the worse things would get.
Kal’buir
found it easier to let off steam about smaller matters. His silence had begun as shock
and was now turning into a logjam of fury, resentment, and hurt. Jusik sensed it all in the Force. At point-blank range it was like standing in front of an open furnace.

A real Mandalorian wouldn’t even blink about ditching Zey. Am I still a Jedi deep down? Is
Kal’buir
having doubts about me? Is his hurt coming from me
?

Skirata seemed distracted by what was happening behind Jusik. When Jusik turned, Zey was stepping down from the ramp, flanked by Maze and Ruu. Ordo was right behind them as if he was shoving them out of the ship.

“I didn’t think you’d be pleased to see me,” said Zey. He held out his hand uncertainly, but Skirata didn’t take it. “Thank you, anyway.”

“Nothing personal.” Skirata’s voice was hoarse, as if the conversation was choking him “But if any Jedi’s going to come back from the dead, it ought to be Etain.”

“I heard,” Zey said. “I’m so sorry.”

“I just can’t believe you’re
jare’la
enough to stroll in here. That’s nerve. That’s
arrogance.
”

Ordo gave Jusik a look of pure ice and turned Skirata around bodily, facing him back toward the house. “Get inside,
Kal’buir,”
he said firmly. “We can’t sort it out here. Ny? Ny, get the ship under cover. Come on, inside.
Now.
”

Jusik felt Skirata’s anger swallow him whole, a great red tunnel where sound and light were instantly an infinity away. There were times when Jusik became so attuned to another being in the Force that he almost felt what they felt, and this time it scared him. He fell into that red vortex for a second. Skirata’s pounding pulse shook his whole body and Jusik’s with it. It took all Jusik’s will to jerk himself back out of it and stand apart again.
Kal’buir
’s frustration, three years of a hated war underpinned by decades of resentment, was looking for a valve to vent from. It would spurt out in the direction of Zey. Skirata stormed back inside.

Scout and Kina Ha appeared at the doors but stood back as if a speeder had nearly run them down. Jusik
held out his arm to stop them following Skirata and Zey into the
karyai
, but Kina Ha drew herself up to her full height and withered him with a glance born of centuries.

“I would never abuse your hospitality,” she said. “But this man is a Jedi, and so he is
my
business as much as yours.”

“I was his Padawan,” Jusik said, as if it was an answer.

“Are you sure you still aren’t?”

It was hard to hide doubt from another Force-user. Jusik was so wounded by the comment that he didn’t bar the door. An angry little group gathered in the
karyai
. Maze stared at Kina Ha and Scout, almost ignoring Skirata. The captain had never seemed the shockable sort, but it was clear he hadn’t expected to see Jedi here.

“So you didn’t have the stomach for it, then, Maze,” Skirata said. “Or did he spin you some
osik
about his respect for all life and what a great little clone you were? How dare you bring him
here.
”

Jusik tried to get the situation back under control. “It’s
me
, Buir. It’s my fault. Don’t blame Maze.”

“No, I want to know why he thinks it’s okay to bring a Jedi here, especially now that there’s an Imperial garrison on our doorstep. Whether he shot him or not is his business, but when he wants to bring him here, it’s
mine.
”

Maze seemed distracted by Kina Ha and Scout. “Well, looks like it’s Jedi Night at Kal’s, if you don’t mind my saying so. And a
Kaminoan
? Going soft, Sergeant? So you’re going to lecture me on consorting with the enemy, are you?”

“Kal, let’s discuss this calmly,” Zey said. “I don’t blame you for being angry.”

“This place is for
clones,”
Skirata said. “Get it? They’re the ones who need help. Not
shabla
Jedi whining how tough things are and how they need protection. Is this some experiment to see how much insult you can add to injury without the whole galaxy imploding?”

Zey didn’t even try to defend himself. Jusik tried to gauge who was going to snap first. He bet on Ordo.

“I’m not proud of what we were party to, Kal,” Zey said. “I’m not claiming innocence or that I was only following orders. But don’t you think we got our punishment for that?”

“So what do you want from us? We’re collecting so many Jedi here that we’re going to show up like the
shabla
Jedi Academy on Palpatine’s Force radar.”

“You know he’s a Sith, then.”

“Of course we know he’s a Sith. We did business with them for generations. We know stuff about Sith that the Jedi Order erased from the records. You just can’t hide history from everyone, Zey—there’s always some other source. Our only problem is spotting the difference between you two gangs of crazies.”