[Republic Commando] - 02(11)

She felt the silence change, not in quality but in the realization that shivered almost imperceptibly through the Force. This wasn’t how they were used to seeing themselves.

“We weren’t exactly queuing up for it ourselves, ma’am,” said a pilot, one boot on the step to his cockpit. There was a ripple of laughter, and Etain laughed, too.

“I’ll try to keep my arc of fire under control, then,” said Etain, and patted the Stouker. She glanced at Gett’s forearm; he tilted it so that she could see his chrono readout. “Ramps down in twenty-four minutes. Dismissed.”

The men broke up, replacing their helmets and falling into platoons and squads to make an orderly path to their assigned craft. The squadron of LAAT/c gunships had been stripped out to create troop space on their cargo decks. Gett inspected the interior of his helmet, holding it in both gloved hands.

“Aren’t you supposed to wish that the Force be with them, General?”

Etain liked Gett. He didn’t treat her as an omniscient military genius but as just another being stuck in a hard place without a lot of choices. She could hear a faint sound coming from his helmet’s audio feed; when she concentrated, she could hear singing, and so held out her hand for the helmet. She’d tried on Atin’s once and been stunned by the welter of data it flung at the wearer. Helmet held close to her head, she could make out strong male voices, a choir of them, singing an anthem she had heard snatches of but rarely had the chance to listen to: “Vode An.”

They were singing, in the privacy of their own helmet comlinks, retreating into their world, like Omega Squad did from time to time. She could hear nothing outside the helmets, of course, and she felt oddly excluded. But they were not her brothers all, however much she wished to be part of something greater than herself, even more than the Jedi Order. They were gearing up for battle.

Bal kote, darasuum kote, Jorso ‘ran kando a tome …

It sounded less martial and more of a lament to her ears right then.

She’d have to ask General Jusik for a translation. He was very much the Mando ‘a speaker these days.

She handed Gett his helmet back and gave him a nod of thanks. “It’s not just the Force we need with us today, Commander,” she said. “It’s reliable kit and accurate intel.”

“Always is, General,” he said. “Always is.”

He slipped his helmet back on and sealed the collar.

She knew without asking that he had started singing, completely silent to her, but one voice with his brothers.

Special Operations Brigade HQ, Coruscant, twenty minutes after the explosion at Depot Bravo Five, 367 days after Geonosis

Captain Ordo needed General Bardan Jusik, and he needed him fast.

He wasn’t answering his comlink. That irked Ordo because an officer was supposed to be contactable at all times. And this was precisely the kind of emergency that proved the point.

Ordo settled the two-seater Aratech speeder bike outside the main doors-far enough to one side not to obstruct them, as safety precautions dictated-and strode down the main passage that led to the briefing and ops rooms.

“Location for General Jusik, please,” he said to the admin droid that was operating the comlink relays in the lobby area.

“Meeting with General Arligan Zey and ARC Trooper Captain Maze in the CO’s office, sir, discussing the incontinent ordnance situation-“

“Thank you,” said Ordo. Just say bomb, will you? “That’s why I’m here, too.”

“You can’t-“

But he could; and he did. “Noted.”

The red light above the office doors told Ordo that the general didn’t want to be interrupted. He expected the Jedi’s Force sensitivity to detect him coming and open those doors, but they remained closed, so Ordo simply made use of the list of five thousand security codes that he had memorized for an eventuality like this. He would never trust them to a datapad alone. Skirata had taught him that sometimes you could only take your own brain and body into battle.

Ordo took off his helmet first, a courtesy Skirata had also taught him, and tapped in the code on the side panel.

The doors parted and he walked up to the meeting table, a pool of dark blue polished stone where Zey, Jusik, and Zey’s frankly surprised ARC captain sat staring at him.

“Morning, sir,” said Ordo. “My apologies for interrupting, but I need General Jusik now.”

Jusik’s thin pale face with its straggly blond beard was the picture of horrified embarrassment. Ordo thought all Jedi could sense him coming, but that never seemed to buffer their surprise when he arrived on urgent business.

Jusik didn’t move fast enough. Ordo made a gesture toward the door.