“Killed because they’re nek battle dogs.” A’den ran the tip of his vibroblade under his nails and inspected the manicure. “Once they’re too old to fight, they can’t be tamed as house pets. Dangerous, savage things. They have to be put down-Don’t they, Sull’ika?”
“You can shove your Mando camaraderie,” Sull said, “but you’ve got it about right. And they’ll come for you, too, when you can’t-or won’t-fight any longer, Null boy. No-body leaves the Grand Army. What do you think they had in mind for us when we weren’t any more use, putting us out to stud?”
“Well, I was sort of hoping…” Fi said wistfully.
“We’re not even any special use as a DNA bank. We’re second-generation Jango. They might as well get fresh material from troopers. They’re less trouble.”
Darman didn’t want to look at his squad comrades. He knew what was going through their minds. It had to be the same dread: that this limited life was all there would ever be for them.
It hadn’t seemed to matter back in Tipoca City. None of them had seen the world outside. Now they’d lived in cities, and met nice girls, and seen how other beings lived their lives. And they knew what they were missing.
Not me. I ‘m not going to end up like that.
Niner clicked his teeth in annoyance. “He ran. Most of the ARC troopers are still doing their duty. You’ll forgive me if I don’t get sentimental about his inner turmoil.”
“Yeah, whatever, Niner.” A’den spun the blade and gazed at the tip. “Welcome to the complex world of morality.” He paused, then bent over to face Sull almost nose-to-nose. Dar-man expected to hear a crack of bone as the ARC head-butted him, but the two men just stared. “So what were you doing in Eyat?”
“I got a job. An apartment.”
“Military sort of job? Advising the enemy?”
“Driving repulsor cabs. And Eyat’s not the enemy. They’re just more ordinary folks who are going to get creamed in another war.”
“But if you wanted to stay there, you’d have made sure they didn’t lose, wouldn’t you?”
“I’ve been there a few months. I’m not going to walk straight in, tell them I’m defecting, and show them the plans, am I?”
“Sooner or later, Sull, you’ll have to take sides, before the Marit coup happens. The attack you were training the lizards to carry out.”
“So?”
“You want out?”
“I’ll draw you a picture, shall I?”
“You can’t stay here. I can’t risk you on the outside, giving the Eyati the codes and overrides, and getting more clones killed. And you aren’t coming back inside. So …”
A’den straightened up with the vibroblade, and for a moment Darman thought he was going to kill Sull on the spot. But he cut the plastoid cuffs and then held the point of the blade just under Sull’s chin, pressing into the flesh.
The ARC rubbed his wrists. “You waiting for something?”
“Get off the planet,” A’den said. He took some cash credits out of his belt pouch. “This is plenty to set you up again. I’ll fix you transport to get a long way from Gaftikar, on condition that you don’t compromise another clone’s safety.”
Sull shrugged. A’den’s offer seemed to have caught him off guard. “This brotherly solidarity is touching, but we each have to look out for ourselves.”
A’den glanced at his chrono. “Put it another way,” he said. “You get off this rock and stay out of the war, or I put you out of circulation the permanent way.”
“I like it here.”
A’den looked up and jerked his thumb in the direction of the doors. “Omega, thin out. We’re going to have a little ARC-to-ARC chat. About kama fashions or some such osik.”
Niner got up without protest and made a follow-me gesture. The squad trooped out behind him and sat down, backs propped against the wall of the HQ building.
“He’s still a traitor,” Niner said at last.
Darman stared ahead in defocus. The Marits had built a mock-up of a house and seemed to be rehearsing rapid entry, minus ordnance. They paused to stare back, then returned to their drill, but Suit’s arrival had grabbed their attention. Did they know who he was? Darman wondered if they could tell one clone from another except by uniform.
“He just doesn’t trust the Republic,” Darman said.
“I don’t trust the Republic, either.” Atin picked a blade of grass and studied it intently. “But that doesn’t mean I’d join the Seps.”