“Because it looks like a very hard location to lay up in for any length of time, and we’re pros, and they’re not,” said Boss. “So they’ll probably go in closer to the rendezvous time.”
Skirata made a point of looking around the group so that he could see the reaction of the two Jedi. Both of them were very capable warriors but assassination-killing someone who was not about to kill you-was psychologically very different from using a lightsaber or blaster in combat.
The silent excitement that had gripped the room was palpable.
“Gentlemen-ma’am-this is a shoot-to-kill operation,” he said. “Not arrest. We want as many hut’uune identified, located, and dead by any means possible at the end of this deployment. Nothing else. We’re cutting out a big chunk of this network in one slice. Are we all clear that’s what we’re doing?”
“Yes Sarge!”
It was one voice. And Jusik and Etain were part of it. That was good. Anyone who hesitated would get the rest of the strike team killed, or worse.
“Okay, recce team, move out,” Skirata said. “And don’t you dare drop my Verps.”
15
Mandalorians are surprisingly unconcerned with biological lineage. Their definition of offspring or parent is more by relationship than birth: adoption is extremely common, and it’s not unusual for soldiers to take war orphans as their sons or daughters if they impress them with their aggression and tenacity They also seem tolerant of marital infidelity during long separations, as long as any child resulting from it is raised by them. Mandalorians define themselves by culture and behavior alone. It is an affinity with key expressions of this culture-loyalty strong self identity, emphasis on physical endurance and discipline— that causes some ethnic groups such as those of Concord Dawn in particular to gravitate toward Mandalorian communities, thereby reinforcing a common set of genes derived from a wide range of populations. The instinct to be a protective parent is especially dominant. They have accidentally bred a family-oriented warrior population, and continue to reinforce it by absorbing like-minded individuals and groups.
-Mandalorians: Identity and Its Influence on Genome, published by the Galactic Institute of Anthropology
Logistics center, Grand Army of the Republic, Coruscant Command HQ, 0815 hours, 384 days after Geonosis
This was no place for a fighting man to be when his brothers were out in the field, but Ordo reasoned that the faster he identified and neutralized the informant, the sooner he could leave this office job.
“Clone,” the Nimbanel voice said. The creature was riding him today. It was a bad idea-normally. “Clone! Have you input the overnight batch of data yet?”
I know at least ten ways to kill you without a weapon, lizard. I’d like to try them all.
“Yes, Gurus,” Ordo said, being nice, compliant Corr. “I have.”
“Then you should have told me immediately.”
Ordo heard Skirata’s constant admonishment in his head and kept his temper: Udesii, udesii, ad ‘ika-easy, easy, son. This clerk wasn’t fit to clean Corr’s boots. He certainly wasn’t fit to clean his.
“My apologies,” Ordo said, acting the calm man that he definitely wasn’t right then. “It won’t happen again.”
Besany Wennen raised her head from her screen very slowly. She was distressingly pretty. The symmetry of her features made him uncomfortable because he wanted to stare, and his male instinct said pursue, but his brain said suspect.
“Gurus, if you have a concern about data management, may I suggest you raise it with me first?” The warmth in her voice had disappeared completely. The frequency dropped as her lips compressed. Ordo could see her in his peripheral vision: she had a way of switching off that vivid smile and just freezing for a few moments. This was someone used to obedience in those around her. “Trooper Corr is doing what I asked of him.”
Ordo had no idea if that was true or if she was saving him embarrassment. He managed a placatory smile anyway. Watching Corr last night had honed his act a little more.
As he worked, inputting vessel pennant codes and supply routes into the program that fed the wall display, he pondered on the one solid piece of information he had. The advance schedule for movements of men and materiel was stripped out to provide confirmation messages. One internal stream went to GAR logistics battalions and Fleet Ops, and one external stream was relayed to the thousands of civilian contractors who provided supplies and transport. The two sets of data were different.
So this had to be the data that was left on a chip at the drop point within the complex-the one that Vinna Jiss had helpfully described to Vau whether she wanted to or not. The bomb attacks had been spread throughout the contractor and military supply networks; whoever executed the attacks had both sets of data.