[Republic Commando] - 03(168)

“I’ll be going then,” he said. “See what Mird’s dragged back from the woods.”

“You will let me know when the Jedi has her child, won’t you?”

“Oh, you’ll probably hear it all over the bastion…”

“She promised me a tissue sample.” No, Vau didn’t think that Ko Sai was offering to knit booties. When he got back to the central area, he could see Mird busy at some frantic activity in the field outside. Bralor and Jaing were watching it, transfixed. He had to go and look. Mird had built a nest. Strills did that. Not only had it built the nest for the mother-to-be, but it had also stocked the larder. A huge, dead, mangled shatual lay to one side of the beautifully arranged coils of dry grass. “It’s the thought that counts,” Jaing said. Bralor laughed. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said. “Cute and strill in the same sentence … well, you learn something new every day.”

“How long do they live?” Jaing asked. “I’d heard three or four times as long as a normal human.”

“It’s true,” said Vau. “It worries me, because I don’t have a family to pass Mird’s care to.”

“You’re a big softie, Sergeant.”

“Would you consider taking Mird if anything happened to me? You never seemed quite as repelled by it as your brothers.” Jaing pulled his I’m-considering-it expression and rocked his head a little. “Yes, I always had sinus trouble. Okay.”

“Do I have your word?”

“Yes. You do.”

Vau felt a great deal more positive than he had in years, which showed him how much he worried about the animal.

That evening he felt positively benign, joining the others in the main room to speculate on the birth.

Bralor’s niece Parja-a mechanic, and making a good liv-ing for a youngster-showed up to scrutinize Fi for the first time. “Jaing says you’re worth fixing up,” she said, squatting down to look him in the eye. “I do believe he’s right.”

It would have sounded unthinkably callous to anyone but a Mandalorian, but she said it with a smile and she spent the whole evening being wonderfully attentive to him. It looked like a lot more than tact or pity. Etain, watching protectively, gave Vau a totally uncharacteristic wink from across the room. Jedi seemed to have a radar for these things. Contentment could be found in some of the least likely situations, Vau thought.

He slept well that night, with Mird draped across his feet on top of the blankets. It was only the sound of a woman in labor that woke him, and just six hours later, Venku Skirata was born, arguably the most wrinkled and angry looking of babies.

Bralor and Parja studied Venku unsentimentally.

“Kandosii,” Bralor said, taking the baby in her arms. “That’s a very healthy boy.”

Vau reflected on the kind of future Venku might face-or make for himself-and handed Etain his comlink.

“Go on,” he said. “You know what you have to do next.”

Etain, tearful and exhausted, took the device and fumbled with the controls. He didn’t even have to remind her. She keyed in Skirata’s code right away, and when he answered, she managed just one word.

“Ba’buir,” she said, and burst into tears.

Grandfather.



Kyrimorut bastion, northern Mandalore, 541 days after Geonosis

All the way from Coruscant, Skirata remained convinced that he would take Venku from Etain’s arms without a second thought, right until he walked into her room and saw that pitiful look on her face.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m tired and my hormones are all over the place, so if I start crying, just carry on as if nothing’s happened. I haven’t changed my mind or anything.”

Skirata leaned over to look at Venku, then Etain held the kid up for him to take.

“There you go, Ba’buir.”

“Venku’s beautiful,” Skirata said. “He really is.” His biological kids must have had their own families by now, and maybe he had great-grandchildren out there somewhere, but this was the first grandson he could actually hold and call his own. “Venku. Yes, that’s you, isn’t it? Yes it is, Venku!” The baby was too young to respond to cooing and tickling. Skirata settled for just holding him like fragile crystal, one hand supporting his tiny head. At least he remembered the drill. “He’s perfect, Etain. You did well. I’m so proud.”

“It’s nice to be able to roll over in bed again without getting stuck,” she said tearfully.

“You really need some rest, ad’ika.”

“This isn’t what I thought I’d feel. Any of it.”