[Republic Commando] - 03(23)

“What for?”

“He cleaned out a bank vault. Credits, jewelry, bonds, the works. Two bags.”

Vau robbed a bank? Skirata was taken aback. The miserable old di’kut was game for breaking any law, but plain theft-never. This was Skirata’s style, not Vau’s. “Last known position?”

“Sending you the coordinates now, with our last good ground radar scan of the terrain.”

“The strill’s still with him, of course.”

“Yes. We didn’t see it fall.”

That was something. Skirata would never trust the animal, but it would lead them to Vau, if it hadn’t already located his body and hauled him out. If he found the strill, he found Vau.

“Tell General Jusik we’ll sort it out, Delta,” he said, and closed the link.

Ordo looked totally unmoved, hand hovering over the hyperspace drive controls. “No point asking Commander Bacara to steer clear of us, is there?”

No, there wasn’t. The fewer people who knew they were coming, the better. It would be hard to explain why two men in Mandalorian armor were blundering around a Separatist planet on the Republic’s tab without authorization, but the fewer the records of conversations, the easier it was to make events vanish. And Bacara wasn’t the kind to ask for ID first.

Skirata didn’t want his useless Jedi general Ki-Adi-Mundi in the loop, either. Jedi hypocrites. It’s okay for Conehead to have a family, but they’ll bust Etain down to the Agricorps for it. Skirata would take his chances.

“No, just save Walon’s shebs and get out of there,” Skirata said. If he’s still alive. “Jump.”

Aay’han lurched into star-streaked space. She was holding together just fine.



Caftikar, Outer Rim, rebel base, 471 days after Geonosis

Darman decided that Null sergeant A’den was a man after his own heart.

“Can’t think straight on an empty stomach.” A’den fired his blaster into a nest of twig shavings to get the campfire going. The sun was coming up-they’d lost a night’s sleep, then-and the lizard-like Gaftikari were still trotting back and forth in neat lines ferrying the weapons they’d collected from the drop. “Got some stew left over from last night. Don’t ask what’s in it, ‘cos I didn’t.”

Omega Squad sat cross-legged around the fire in their black undersuits, armor plates stacked to one side. Atin held Darman’s jet pack on his lap and bent the wing hinge assembly back into shape with a pair of blunt-nosed grips. He hated letting mechanical things get the better of him. “So what happened to the ARC?”

“MIA,” A’den said. His tone was totally neutral, and his expression blank: it wasn’t his usual demeanor, either, because Darman could see the white lines in the deeply tanned skin around his eyes and mouth. A’den usually smiled a lot, but he wasn’t smiling now. “So I’ve done a recce of Eyat and I’ve put together as complete a plan of the government buildings as I can.”

“Sep force strength?” Niner asked.

“Apart from the locals, minimal.”

“I thought this was a hotbed of Sep activity that had to be neutralized pronto.”

“Oh dear, ner vod, you’ve been taking intel at face value again, haven’t you?” A’den built the fire with meticulous care, stacking branches and dry grasses on the mound and watching the flames grow. “We better cure you of that.”

Fi peered into the pot of stew. “It’s okay, I’ve been teaching him sarcasm. He’ll be ready for comic exaggeration soon.”

“Looks quite a nice peaceful place,” Atin said. “Not exactly strategic.”

“Eyat?” A’den stirred the pot with a stick. It really did smell good. “Lovely city. Clean, pretty buildings, lots of harmless fun to enjoy. And of no military use to us whatsoever.”

Darman kept an eye on the Gaftikari. Now that the sun was coming up, he could see that their light beige scales were slightly iridescent. They had sharp muzzles and small black eyes with disturbing red slit-like pupils. And he’d never seen so many varied weapons strung on one belt: they were more tooled up than Sergeant Kal in a bad mood. Their blades, blasters, and metal bars jingled like wind chimes. One tall lizard provided his own musical accompaniment as he walked, swinging his tail to balance under a load of E-Web parts.

“I see you taught them all about stealth, then,” Atin said.

A’den stared at him. “Prudii warned me that you were an awkward customer.”

“Funny, Ordo warned Prudii I was argumentative.”

“Your reputation precedes you, then,” said A’den. “They’re good fighters. Trust me.”