“He’s dead.”
“I should think so. The hydrostatic shock generated by a Verpine projectile is substantial. A clean head shot is instantaneous kyr’am.”
“But the datapad is still in his tunic.”
“Good!” He turned to the strill and put his finger to his lips. “Udesii, Mird … silence! K’uur!”
The strill stared up into his face, gold eyes fixed on his, head drawn back a little into its cowl-like folds of loose skin. Its whimpering stopped abruptly. Vau crouched down and held out his arm as if pointing, and closed his fingers into a fist. “Oya … ,” he whispered. “Find the aruetii! Find the traitor!”
Mird spun around and stabbed its claws into the stonework. Etain watched, stunned, as it climbed the wall and made its way to the next ledge above. The strill appeared to understand what was said to it, even hand signals. But she had no idea what it was doing.
“Oya, Mird!”
The strill balanced on its four rear legs and then sprang into the abyss.
“Oh my-“
And then Etain suddenly realized why the strill looked so bizarre. It spread all six legs, and the loose, ugly skin that made it appear such a shambling mess was stretched taut by the air pressure beneath it. It glided effortlessly down in a perfect stoop onto the balcony opposite.
Vau took off his helmet and wiped his brow. His face was a study in complete admiration and … yes, love.
“Clever Mird,” he murmured. “Clever baby!”
“It’s a glider!”
“Extraordinary animals, strills,”
“It’s going to fetch the .datapad?”
Vau paused. Etain could see a smile forming on his lips. “Yes.”
“Is it male or female?”
‘Both,” Vau said. “Mird has been with me since I joined the Mandalorians. Strills live far longer than humans. Who’ll care for it when I’m dead?”
“I’m sure someone will value it greatly.”
“I want it to be cared for, not valued.”
Vau replaced his helmet. They waited. Etain strained to see when the animal emerged from the apartment with, she imagined, the datapad clamped in its teeth. Or maybe it had more surprises in store, like a pouch, as Jinart the Gurlanin had.
She stared, aghast.
Mird had dragged Perrive’s body out onto the balcony and was worrying at it. She believed the animal was trying to tear out the datapad right up to the moment that it got a good grip with its massive jaws on the corpse’s shoulder and hauled it up onto the safety rail.
“What’s it doing?”
Vau laughed. Mird balanced the body on the rail like a sack of stones, wobbled a little, and then launched itself into the air. Etain was stunned by its ability to move a man weighing at least eighty kilos, but not half as stunned as when she saw its free fall turn into a vertical climb as it struck out and its parachute of skin became wing membranes.
Mird soared like a raptor, carrying its prey.
Mird flew
“Fierfek … ,” Etain said. There was no other word for it.
“Language!” Vau said, clearly amused. Mird thudded onto the ledge and hauled Perrive up behind it. Vau crouched as best he could on the narrow strip of stone and felt inside the tunic for the datapad. “Got it. Let’s go. Good Mird! Clever Mird! Mirdala Mird ‘ika!” He opened his comlink. “Kal, Perrive’s no longer a problem, and we have a useful datapad. See you shortly.”
Mird was ecstatic, whimpering and slobbering in delight as Vau rubbed its head. As retrievers went, it could have no equal.
“What about the body?” Etain said, still stunned. “Are we just leaving it here? On an office window ledge?”
“It’ll give CSF’s forensics team a fascinating project to keep them occupied,” Vau said. “And we didn’t even have to enter a diplomatic compound, did we?”
Etain, now used to death and assassination, couldn’t help herself. She reached over and rubbed the still’s head, too, although it stank and could probably kill her in a single vast bite. It was still miraculous.
“Clever Mird!” she said. “Clever!”
Somewhere near CoruFresh Farm Produce distribution division, Quadrant F-76, 2150 hours, 385 days after Geonosis
“That armor suits you, Bard ‘ika.”
Skirata sat astride the speeder’s pillion seat, datapad and chrono at the ready. The operation was under way. Perrive was dead. Now it was time for Skirata to check that the credit transfer had been made.
He watched the screen that showed the status of the temporary bank account that would vanish without trace or audit trail in just over a day.
“I suspect the Jedi Council wouldn’t agree.” Jusik adjusted the bags on the bike’s cargo straps. “Not even if General Kenobi himself wears armor.”