“Agent Wennen still hasn’t found anything at all on how the Kaminoans were paid or whether there’s anything in the budget in the next two years for another contract,” Mereel said, standing up. “But she’s going to carry on. As am I, because we now have upgrades to fit to this fine vessel inside forty-eight hours.” He fixed Mird with an unsympathetic eye. “Including a heavy-duty air freshener.”
“I told her not to take any risks.” Ordo sounded wistful.
“What did she say to that?” Skirata asked.
“She told me she’d stop taking risks when I did.”
“She’s a good’un, son. Mandokarla.” Yes, Besany Wennen definitely had the right stuff, a Mando heart. “She’ll earn those sapphires.”
“And who told her I liked roba sausage?”
Mereel paused in the hatchway. “That’d be me, Ord’ika …”
Vau nudged Mird onto the deck and followed Mereel to start fitting the new weapons to the ship. Skirata was left with Ordo in the crew lounge, suddenly unsure what to say to him. They stood there so long in contemplation that the sound of banging and scraping began echoing through the hull as Mereel brought the hardware inboard.
“She’ll be fine, Ord’ika” It was obvious he was worried about Besany getting caught. “She’s used to investigating fraud without anyone noticing.”
“She’s close to investigating the Chancellor, Kal’buir. That’s as dangerous as it gets in her line of work.”
“We’ll pull her out at the first sign of trouble, I promise.”
“And do what?”
Events were overtaking Skirata at breakneck speed. Part of his mind was on whether Delta had what it took to beat them to Ko Sai-possibly, because Vau trained them-and part was worrying about Etain, whom he hadn’t checked on for a day. He felt guilty for the way he’d bullied her.
And part of his attention was now on the fact that three people had put themselves at risk for his scheme, and might need to be moved to safety or given refuge very fast indeed. His plans for a safe haven, an escape route, had to be firmed up right away. He’d have to get hold of the Cuy’val Dar comrades he could most rely on.
“Do we exploit people like Jusik and Etain and Besany, or do we give them something they need?” Ordo asked. “These people who gravitate to us-they so want a community, a family, and that’s the one thing we have in abundance. But I don’t know where to draw the line. I just feel bad for them.”
“Family’s about being willing to do that, Ord’ika,” Skirata said, and steered him toward the gunwell access. “No holding back. We give all we’ve got, too.”
“What if she doesn’t want to come with us?”
“Besany?”
“Yes. We’re planning to desert, aren’t we? It’s going to be a life on the run. What if she says, Sorry, Ordo, I like my life on Coruscant too much? What if she tells me to get lost?”
The two of them seemed a long way from that kind of commitment, but the Nulls had come out of the Kaminoans’ genetic tinkering with a capacity for instant, unshakable devotion. If they took to you, they’d die for you. If they didn’t, you were dead meat. That was what happened when the genes that influenced loyalty and bonding were overcooked. But it was an existing Mandalorian tendency that the Kaminoans had exploited, and Ordo was only making the same snap decision on which partner he wanted that Skirata and most other Mando males made.
Besany had to stand by Ordo. Kal couldn’t bear to see the lad’s heart broken. He wanted so much for the boy, for all of them.
“She won’t let you down, son,” Skirata said.
She couldn’t even if she wanted to. She was now in this up to her neck. Coruscant would never be the same safe home again for Besany Wennen.
Chapter 6
We have laws on how we treat sentient species. We have laws on how we treat animals and semi-sentients. We even have laws protecting plants. But we have absolutely no laws whatsoever governing the welfare of done troops-human beings. They have no legal status, no rights, no freedoms, and no representation. Every one of you here who accepted this army without murmur should hang your head in shame. If that s the depths we as a Republic can sink to in the name of democracy, it hardly surprises me that the CIS wants to break away. The end can never justify means like this.
-Senator Den Skeenah of Chandrila, addressing the Senate eighteen months after the Battle of Geonosis, after setting up a charitable appeal to fund the only veterans’ welfare facility in the Republic
Rebel camp, Gaftikar, 473 days after Geonosis