[Republic Commando] - 03(36)

He wasn’t encouraging desertion. He was liberating slaves. Men who didn’t sign up had no oath or contract to honor as far as he was concerned.

Eventually he left Vau to his sleep, curled in a fetal ball with Mird still keeping vigil over him, and wandered off to the cockpit to sit with Ordo.

Ordo held out the jeweled pin. “Look. They turn green in this light.” He seemed more fascinated by the chemistry of them. “What am I going to do with them, Kal’buir?”

Skirata shrugged. “Like Vau says, give them to Besany.”

“They’re stolen. That compromises her.”

“Let me think of something.”

“They’d buy a lot of land and a secure base. Will Vau be offended?”

“Not as long as Ma Vau doesn’t get to wear them again.”

“How terrible to hate your parents so much. But then parents do appalling things to their children, don’t they? Like poor Etain. Given away to total strangers.” Ordo pitied Jedi. It was becoming a recurring theme in his conversation. “I’m lucky to find a father who wanted me. We all are.”

Does he think I was a bad father to my own kids? He never says.

“I’d kill for you, son,” Skirata said. “It’s that simple.”

Ordo was a good lad. A wonderful lad. He could pilot a totally unfamiliar ship-even stage a staggering rescue-just on intuition and one skim of the manual, then sit down and balance the accounts. Skirata, choked silent by pride and overwhelming paternal love, leaned over the pilot’s seat and gave him a hug. Ordo winked, clearly pleased with himself, and gripped Skirata’s arm.

Fatherhood was a blessing. It would be a blessing for Dar-man, when the time came for him to find out, and now Skirata had both wealth and the prospect of Ko Sai’s technology to guarantee a decent future for all of them.

But the future was a fragile concept for Mandalorians. Tomorrow was never taken for granted by soldiers, and the Mando ‘a word for it-vencuyot-conveyed optimism rather than a timescale. Venku was a good, positive Mandalorian name for any son. It would fit Darman and Etain’s baby very well indeed.

Yes, Venku. That s it: Venku.

“I never adopted you formally,” Skirata said. It had been bothering him in recent days, ever since he began to think of the war as having a definite timescale. “Any of you.”

“Does that matter?”

Skirata now felt that it did. No Mando’ad would nitpick over the bond between him and his boys, and as far as the Re-Public was concerned clones didn’t even qualify as people, but his plans to give them a decent future had now become very, very specific. That discovery of Lama Su’s terse message to Palpatine just over a week ago had fast-forwarded everything.

“Yes,” he said. He reached to grasp Ordo’s hand and recited the short, no-frills gai bal manda-“name and soul,” all it took to unpick history and give a child a new parentage. Mandalorians were habitual adopters. Bloodlines were just medical detail. “Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad, Ordo.”

Ordo stared at their clasped hands for a moment. He had a crushing grip. “I’ve been your son since the day you first saved my life, Buir.”

“I think you boys did the saving,” Skirata said. “I don’t want to imagine where I’d be without you.”

Skirata was now busy hating himself for not doing this be-fore, not making the ultimate commitment, and he fretted about his five other Nulls scattered around the galaxy. Sometimes he saw them again as two-year-olds waiting to be culled-killed-because they didn’t meet the spec the Kaminoans wanted. Uncommandable. Disturbed. Defective.

And aruetiise thought Mandalorians were savages, did they?

The galaxy was full of hypocrites.





Chapter 4


Decree E49D139.41: All nonmilitary cloning of sentients is prohibited, and military cloning is to be confined to

Republic-licensed facilities, such as those of the government of Kamino and any others designated by the Republic now or at any time during the duration of the hostilities. This prohibition encompasses the supply of cloning equipment; the hiring or contracting of cloning technologists and genetic engineers for the purpose of carrying out cloning techniques; and the procurement of sentient cloned organisms. Exemptions: Khomm, Lur, Columns, and Arkania may continue therapeutic medical cloning with appropriate license on a case-by-case basis.

-Proceedings of the Senate, Republic Legal Review



Caftikar, the road to Eyat, 473 days after Geonosis

“So what’s your strategy?” Darman asked the lizard, trying to build relationships. “How are you going to take over?”

Sergeant Kal said that you had to work with the locals and use their social structures to get the job done, not try to get them to work the Republic’s way. Atin ambled along beside Darman and the Marit, hands in his pockets, no telltale signs of his lightweight body armor under the workman’s clothes A’den had given him. It was raining and the path through the trees was muddy and puddled, but at least they had an excuse to cover their heads with hoods. Atin had a visor and two days’ growth of dark beard. On a cursory glance, few would spot that they were identical.