[Republic Commando] - 02(62)

Skirata ambled across to Etain and sat down next to her on the bench. “He’s a gutsy little di’kut, isn’t he?”

So it wasn’t only a term of abuse, then. “If there wasn’t a war on, I suspect that Master Zey would have had a serious word with him by now. Bardan’s become very attached.”

“Being a loner might make a warrior, but it won’t make a soldier.”

“Where were you educated?”

Skirata was looking straight ahead rather than at her, and his eyes creased at the corners for a brief moment. “On the street, on the battlefield, and by a bunch of very smart little boys.”

Etain smiled. “I wasn’t being rude. Just curious.”

“Fair enough. I had to analyze and explain everything I taught my Nulls for eight years. It wasn’t enough for me to show them the right way to fight. They wanted me to rationalize it. They shredded me with questions. Then they’d feed it all back to me in a way I’d never seen it before. Amazing.”

“Do we get to meet them all? Are they all like Ordo?”

“Maybe,” Skirata said. “They’re deployed in various locations.” It was his noncommittal answer: Don’t ask. “And they’re all of the same caliber, yes.”

“So out of a strike team of twelve, you have eleven tough men-atin, yes?-and me. I can’t help feeling I’m not going to be much use.”

Skirata took out a chunk of something brown and woody and popped it into his mouth. He chewed like a gdan, as if he were gnawing off someone’s arm. ‘Atin’ade,” he corrected. “Oh, you’ll be plenty of use. I suspect you’ll have the hardest job of all.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“I know.”

“Sergeant, is this going to become clear at the briefing?”

“It’s not a secret. I just want everyone to have the full picture at the same time. Then we ship out and disappear.”

“I hear you’ve done that before.”

“Cuy ‘val Dar. Yes, I’ve been ‘those who no longer exist’ before. You get used to it. It has its plus points.”

He got up and walked toward the barracks, Etain following. His limp was far less obvious today.

“How did you hurt your leg?” she asked.

“I didn’t follow orders. I ended up with a Verpine shatter gun round through my ankle. Sometimes you need to learn the hard way.”

“Never got it fixed?”

“I’ll get around to it one day. Come on, breakfast before briefing. Some things sound better on a full stomach.”

When the briefing started at 0800, Jusik looked freshly scrubbed, but he was developing a fine black eye. He also seemed delighted. Etain envied him his capacity for finding joy in the most unlikely places, just like Darman did. Omega and Delta appeared to have broken up as squads completely. They took their seats, lounging around in their black bodysuits, but they no longer sat in their own tight groups. Atin and Sev still exuded a sense of distance, but Skirata’s crash course in being buddies appeared to be working.

There was also the small matter of the Wookiee who had walked in. Skirata directed the creature to a bigger chair and locked the doors. It was the one who’d piloted the taxi. “Ordo, have you swept the room for bugs?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, this is strictly for those in this room. If anyone wants out, now’s the time to say.”

“Observe the complete lack of movement, Sarge,” Scorch said. “Nobody’s passing on this one.”

“I didn’t think so. From now on, there’s no General or sir or Sergeant or designation codes, and no Jedi robes. There is no rank. There is no chain of command beyond me. If I’m otherwise engaged or dead then you answer to Ordo. Got it?” The Wookiee threw him two bundles of clothing and he lobbed one each to Etain and Jusik. She caught hers and stared at it, “Plainclothes, kids. You clone lads are just soldiers on leave, and us mongrels are … well, Etain can pass for my daughter and Bard ‘ika is a useful deadbeat I picked up on my travels. A go fer”

The Wookiee emitted a long and contented trill. “This is Enacca, by the way.” Skirata indicated the Wookiee with a polite flourish. “She’s our quartermaster and mobility troop-she’ll secure supplies and transport for us. You ever worked with Wookiees?”

The commandos shook their heads, wide-eyed.

“Well, everything you’ve heard is true.” He gestured to Ordo, and a holoprojection streamed from the ARC’S glove onto the wall. It was a chart with arrows and labels on it. “So here’s what we have so far. One, we have a point of origin for the explosives. Two, we think we have someone in GAR logistics or support, or in the CSF, who is either passing information or being careless with it. Now, what we don’t have is a link in the chain between the following terror cells: materials to bomb manufacture; bomb manufacture to placement cell; and placement cell to recce and surveillance cell-in other words, the ones who tell them where to place the device and when to detonate it.”