“I’ll be back later, Fi,” she said. “One of the other Nulls is coming to see you soon. A’den.”
Jusik parted her on the hand, not looking up. She had the air taxi drop Darman at the barracks, and then got off a few blocks from her office to take a few minutes to think. Her focus was widening again now, taking in the city around her and the beings streaming past her on foot and in speeders, and she had a moment of frightening clarity.
I pulled a blaster on staff at the medcenter and abducted a patient. Or stole government property. Whatever. I did it. And that’s on top of slicing data. They’ll fire me, if whoever was watching me doesn’t shoot me first.
She was too deeply mired in the situation to lose her nerve now, and damned either way. If she was going to be disgraced, which she was, then it wouldn’t make matters any worse if she pulled out all the stops. I used to be sensible.
Besany sat at her desk and logged into the accounting override system, the rarefied atmosphere where auditors could observe transactions at will. She’d been honest all her life, scrupulously so. It was her job to root out dishonesty among others. But it was time the Republic paid its dues, and it could start with Fi, RC-8015, who didn’t exist now, and had never existed in law.
She had the access codes and the ability to cover the audit trail that led to her. It was a relatively straightforward matter to slice into the Grand Army’s database and record that RC-8015 had been terminated after receiving injuries from which he was unlikely to recover. Among a few thousand commandos, hidden among a few million men, nobody above his own commander-General Zey-would even bother to check. His place in Omega Squad was already filled, and clones died every day.
She hit the EXECUTE key, and Fi was a free man for the first time in his short and tragic life.
Office of the Director of Special Forces, SO Brigade HQ, Coruscant, 503 days after Geonosis
Skirata never liked to be summoned to anyone’s office, but he seemed keen to respond to General Zey today. Ordo accompanied him. He hadn’t been summoned, but if Zey wanted to kick him out, he could try.
The Jedi looked like a man under increasing pressure. “I’ve cut you a lot of slack, Sergeant,” Zey said. “A galaxy of slack. A budget of slack. Now where is he? And what’s Jusik playing at?”
Kal’buir was the last man to be intimidated by anyone, and Zey couldn’t even come close to it. Ordo caught Maze’s eye, and found they were both tensed to step in to back up their master, like a pair of strills. Yes, that’s exactly what we are. Animals trained to kill, and we can never be trusted not to turn wild again. Maze and Ordo had an understanding, though. Maybe Maze understood a whole lot better since he’d been educated about his ARC brother Sull. “Fi’s dead, sir,” Skirata said. “It says so on the database.”
“That is, to use your phrase, a load of osik.”
“Really?” Skirata’s arms were at his sides, which was never a good sign. “Well, he was in a coma, and medical care was withdrawn. Seeing as the Republic is too nice and civilized to leave a creature that can’t feed itself to starve to death, the med droids were ready to … what’s the euphemism? Euthanize him. So one way or the other he’s dead, in that the Republic washed its hands of him now that he’s no longer useful, and RC-eight-oh-one-five no longer exists. Sir.”
Zey looked mortified. He wasn’t a callous man. He didn’t even trot out all the usual Jedi platitudes. But Ordo still thought less of him for not being like Bardan Jusik.
“Sergeant, I’ve seen the record. I don’t know how you did it, but I know you did, and I want to account for his where-abouts.”
“Need-to-know, General. And you don’t.”
“This is not your private army, Skirata.”
“Except when it suits you.”
“Sergeant, you’re still a serving member of the Grand Army of the Republic, and we have a chain of command here.”
“Is that a threat?”
“I could remove you from your post.”
“You could try, but even if you kick me out, I’ll still be around, and my influence and networks and … abilities to perform will remain unchanged in all but name. You need me inside the tent, not outside throwing rocks.”
Zey probably understood that he’d created the out-of-control Skirata standing in front of him and that there was no putting the man back in his box. Ordo was, as always, proud of his father and inspired by his refusal to be cowed. Zey’s only option was to kill Skirata, just like an ARC trooper who no longer toed the line, and Ordo didn’t give much for Zey’s chances of that. So the fight was on.