“So what’s not to trust?” asked Fi. “Apart from the fact they bred us to die and treat us like dirt? Aww, anyone can make a mistake …”
”All that osik about the droid threat, for a start. I went on that sabotage mission with Prudii. I saw the factory. I saw the production count. They’re missing quite a few decimal places. It’s bogus, but I still don’t know where Intelligence got it.”
“At’ika. everyone lies like a hairy egg about troop strengths and kit and stuff,” Darman said. He knew Skirata never told them the whole story-he said so-but the more the war ground on, the more Darman realized that it was ail lie upon lie. on both sides. Nothing ever added up. There were too few droids around to support the kind of numbers coming out of Republic Intel. The CIS’s claims were unsuhwuntiated. “Propaganda. All part of the armory.”
And handy for getting the Senate to blindly approve spending. Yes, Darman could understand the politics now.
The day you know what’s actually going on in a war, son, you’ll know you ‘re watching a holovid. That’s what Skirata said. Wars ran as much on lies and propaganda as they did on munitions. All you could ever really know was what was right in front of your own eyes, and even then it was open to interpretation.
Even so, the Nulls seemed… different in the last week or so. It was right after Atin came back grumbling that Kal and Ordo had sent him home after the sabotage mission. Atin didn’t need to know what they were doing, they said. They denied it was connected to the hunt for General Grievous.
Darman thought Skirata sailed too close to the wind these days. It was part of what made him a beloved buir but it also kept Darman awake some nights.
I don ‘t mind being shot at. It s having a government that lies to me that I hate.
The clump-clump-clump of boots vibrated through the frame of the building, and Darman felt it in his back. A’den and Sull were coming out. He checked that his sidearm was fully charged.
“Master Sull will be leaving Gaftikar in a few days,” A’den announced, not looking at any of the squad. Sull trailed out after him, looking grim. “Keep him fully entertained until his transport arrives.”
Niner just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Standing up for what you believed was terrific, but sometimes it was just missing the point. “But…”
“ARC trooper Lieutenant Alpha-Thirty died of his injuries following an unknown incident, okay?” A’den announced pointedly. “He was too decomposed to ascertain a cause of death. But I recovered his armor and I’m returning his tally to SO Brigade for records purposes. Got it? Because if you didn’t, I can repeat it even more slowly.”
Fi raised an eyebrow. “He looks pretty decomposed to me. We’ll give him a decent burial. Can I have his boots and kama?”
But Niner wasn’t giving in to A’den without a speech. That was Niner all over. Darman suspected he would have given Ordo an equally hard time. His ultrastraight decency anchored the squad.
Sometimes, though, he just needed to look the other way and shut up.
“At what point does improvisation turn into complete collapse of discipline, ner vod?”
A’den stared down at him as if he’d just noticed him. “You think I should stick him on a desertion charge and return him to Zey for due process.”
“That’s what the regs say …”
A’den looked away for a moment as if he’d taken sudden interest in the Marits, who’d now managed to demolish the training house even without ordnance. They emitted excited triumphant little squeals, totally at odds with their ferocity. Then the Null took his comlink from his belt and held it out to Niner.
“Okay, mir’sheb, why don’t you flash Zey and tell him we have a renegade ARC on our hands?” He got fed up waiting for Niner to take the link, reached down to grab his hand, and slapped the thing into his palm. “Go on.”
Niner inhaled deeply, knuckles white as he gripped the device. Darman caught Fi’s eye and wondered if either of them would stop their sergeant. Atin looked studiously blank.
“Go on, Mouth Almighty,” said A’den. “Turn him in, if you’ve got the gett’se to do it.”
“You didn’t answer me.” Niner stood his ground. “Where’s the line between bending the rules out of common sense and failing in our duty?
“Duty my shebs.”
“I don’t mean duty to the Republic. I mean to our own. So some ARC can choose to do a runner because he’s so kriffing independent, but the poor grunts in the Galactic Marines have to stay and suck it up? When do they get to choose?”