[Republic Commando] - 03(70)

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, they are. Hormones. And Etain’s cranky enough to start with.”

Vau looked up and put his comlink back in his belt pouch. “I got on very well with the young woman when we last worked together, actually.”

Skirata gave Vau the long stare, the one that said he didn’t think the comment added anything useful to the sum of the galaxy’s knowledge. Vau shrugged and got up to wander around calling for Mird, who’d gone exploring, leaving only his pungent aroma to keep the sofa warm.

“Come on, Mer’ika,” Skirata said. “Let’s contact your tinnie friend and find that pilot. Time is of the essence.”

Ordo couldn’t disobey. Kal ‘buir had his plans, and this was where Ordo fitted in. He didn’t have to be happy about it. though. He was being handed a soft job, a nursemaid job, the kind he always did when his brothers were racing around the galaxy carrying out anything from assassinations to elaborate financial frauds.

Do they resent me? Maybe they pity me.

“Yes, Kal’buir” Ordo said. “I’ll treat it as a medical emergency.”

Mereel tossed him an identichip, the kind that opened security locks. “Take the shuttle I used to get here. I left it next to the cantina.”

They lived that kind of life. Credits, transport, supplies, the cost was no object: if the Republic didn’t bankroll it, they stole it, directly or indirectly. Ordo didn’t have any more personal desire for wealth than his brothers. He was used to finding all his needs met, but his needs seemed nowhere near as rich and varied as those of the beings around him. All he wanted right then was a piece of the cheffa cake that Besany had sent him, so he took half from the galley, slicing it in two pieces with his vibroblade, and left the rest for the others-even Mird, if strills ate such things. Then he went in search of the shuttle, just another mercenary wandering around on a lawless planet, and sat in the cockpit chewing the cake for a few minutes.

It was dry and spicy against his tongue, like licking scented velvet. The comfort effect was immediate and from another time and place.

Sometimes Ordo felt just as he did when he was a small child and Skirata first towered above him: part of him was competent far beyond his years, and the rest was hollow terror because the kaminiise were going to kill him, but Skirata had snatched him and his brothers to safety and fed them all on uj’alayi, a sticky-sweet Mandalorian cake. It was a powerful act of salvation, one that had defined Ordo. He felt it as freshly now as he had then. It was the cake. That was it. The cake had brought it all back. He felt safe again.

And this was from Besany Wennen. She was saving him too, in her way.

Ordo folded the remains of the cake in a piece of cleaning rag, slipped it into the pocket on the thigh of his flight suit, and fired up the shuttle’s drives to head for Qiilura. He had no idea-yet-what to do with a pregnant Jedi who was showing signs of miscarriage on a backworld planet a long way from competent gynecological help, but he’d find out. He was Ordo. Nothing was beyond him.



Hutt space, 476 days after Geonosis

“He can’t shoot straight,” Boss said. “But he’s spoiled my paint job.”

The TIV jinked again to avoid cannon fire from the pursuing ship. Sev checked via the external holocams and there it was: a Crusher-class fighter. It harried the TIV, closing up and then falling back several times, loosing cannon rounds to one side then the other.

“You could have creamed it by now, Boss.” Sev wasn’t sure what his sergeant was playing at. “Or maybe just hyperjumped out of here. Forgotten what the Big Red Button’s for?”

“Curiosity is the sign of intelligence, Sev.”

Scorch had a tight grip on the restraining belt. “I’m not that curious.”

“Think about it.” Boss rolled the TIV as if he was enjoying it. “If this guy hasn’t killed us, either he can’t, or he wants us in one piece because we’ve got something he wants. I want to know who he is.”

“Sometimes it’s better to leave a little mystery in a relationship,” said Scorch.

Sev felt the steady beat of his heart, nothing else. He’d passed the point of fear, and his body was on autopilot; he’d strapped himself in for a rough reentry somewhere almost without thinking about it. “So land and see if he follows.”

“You get there eventually, don’t you?”

Nar Shaddaa was the next planetfall, unless they landed on Da Soocha, and nobody ever landed there, not even the Hutts who named it. That was going to be cozy. The planet was all ocean except for a couple of small islands that broke the surface. But Delta had done their job and transmitted the data already, so if anything went wrong another squad could pick up where they left off.