Alpha Squad: Brothers All
Jiini-Toric border, Gelbarta, Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
The four commandos of Alpha Squad did their best to sit in the crew bay of the HELE gunship, but it was no small task. The High Elevation Landing Escort ship—"Heelee"—was the workhorse of the Gelbarta local security force, on loan to Alpha for their latest mission. It was a dull gray where there wasn't rust, and the thing shook horribly; the CSF VAAT/e's ugly cousin, they'd all agreed upon seeing it for the first time.
"I can't believe these guys use these things. Where's a larty when you need one?" grumbled RC-2319—Breeze, over the internal comm.
"Never where we are." replied RC-2501—Diver, not looking up from his newly painted helmet, now gray and brown-splotched camo.
"You better put that back on," said their sergeant, RC-4223—Top, "for all we know, this crate could fall out of the sky any shabla minute."
"Oh come on, Sarge. The company that makes these things on Driscol says 'they'll be with you 'till you die'." said Breeze, quoting the old holomercial he'd seen at the local security base.
Top scoffed, rolling his eyes behind his helmet's T-visor. "Yeah right. That's because it'll be the thing that kills you. It's a deathtrap." Top nudged the hulk of armor sitting next to him. "You all right?"
"Just trying not to lose my lunch. You know throwing up in a helmet's no fun." said RC-3629—Mack. "All this shaking around—it's like six-thousand parts just flying in close formation, this thing."
Top was about to comment when his comm crackled. "Alpha, this is Beviin Squad."
"Beviin, this is Alpha Two-Three. That you, Coots?"
"Yeah, Top." replied RC-1476—Coots. "Our transport's having some engine problems. We have to put 'er down."
Top shook his head. Surprise, surprise… "Give us your coordinates. We'll come by to pick you up, though we can't say our ride's any prettier."
A new signal came in over the comm now, this time from clone advisor CC-13/762—Kilo. "Alpha, be advised you are on a time-sensitive mission."
"Roger that, Kilo." said Coots. "Top, your squad can take the north target zone. I'd say keep going, but it's your call."
"I hear you, Coots. We'll keep flying. Two-Three, out." Top looked back to the rest of his squad. "Told you the shabla thing's a deathtrap. Ours will probably give out next."
Breeze laughed, and so did Diver. Mack seemed to be concentrating fully on not throwing up inside his nice new helmet. Top settled down against the bulkhead, bracing himself against the vibrations. There was no way he'd manage a few minutes' sleep in this flying piece of osik, but he closed his eyes anyway. He was tired; they all had spent the six hour trip preparing with Beviin Squad for the mission.
Just then the Heelee copilot poked his head into the crew bay. "Sergeant, Flight Two says they can't fix the Heelee. They went in hard and bent the bird up. They're a hundred kliks behind."
"How far to the target zone?" asked Top.
"About thirty standard."
"After we insert, go back and get 'em."
"Can do easy, Sergeant."
Good man, thought Top.
"Top, this is Coots!"
Just the tone of his voice made Top sit up at attention, not to mention the sound of a blaster on auto-fire blaring in the background.
"We're under attack! Jiini locals must have seen us land. I repeat, we're under attack!"
"Coots, this is Top. Any casualties?"
"Wirth is—wait! We're getting hit here! Heavy small arms fire!"
Top grimaced. "Coots, say again. What about Wirth?"
"His leg's trapped in the Heelee. We gotta cut him out."
"Beviin Squad, this is Kilo. Can you secure a perimeter?"
"We're trying." said Coots, "Hostiles are coming from all directions. They got us pinned." There was another repeater volley in the background of his comm and every member of Alpha tensed anxiously. "Heavy effective fire, now. We need an extraction!"
"Roger that, Beviin. We're headed your way." said Top.
The copilot stuck his head into the crew bay again. "If we turn back now, we won't have enough fuel to make it to the target zone."
"How long will it take you to refuel?" asked Top.
"Turnaround time: two hours."
Then word from the advisor came again. "Alpha Squad, this is Kilo. Advise you to complete your mission. We will extract Beviin Squad shortly."
"You got another transport available?"
"Negative. After you reach the target zone, your Heelee will return to extract."
"That'll take too long." said Top.
"Beviin Squad will have to sit tight." said Kilo.
Top exhaled forcefully. "Is that an order?"
"Negative, I'm not superseding your command, just offering analysis and advising. You're the man on the ground, but you've only got cover of darkness for half a standard hour more."
"Roger that, Kilo." Top looked to his team, and each gave him a nod without him even needing to ask. "Taking out the rebel leader will have to wait. We're moving to extract Beviin Squad. Two-Three, out."
***
Top sat at the edge of the crew deck with Diver; Mack an Breeze were on the other side. With the HELE's bay doors open and the early-morning rays of light pouring in, the commandos saw just how osik'la the interior of the Heelee was.
"Beviin, what's your status?" Top called over the comm.
There was a troubling silence for a moment, then Coots' voice came through. "We got Wirth out, but he's down with a busted knee."
Great, thought Top, cynically. "Are you near the Heelee?"
Coots shook his head to himself in frustration. "Negative. Heelee's destroyed, lost both pilots. We're in a ditch near some rocks, about thirty degrees south."
Top spotted the HELE's burnt-out skeletal wreck in the distance. "Copy that, we see your position."
"Things are calming down now." said Coots. He poked his head slowly over the edge of the ditch. "Looks like some of the rebels are leaving."
Clone advisor Kilo cut in again. "Alpha, get it and get out. Let's do this fast."
"On it." Top leaned back and shouted into the cockpit. "Fly low, but don't land yet!"
"Yes, Sergeant."
The Heelee dipped lower, circling the small, shallow valley. That's when the heavy repeater fire pelted the ship's hull. Two bolts skimmed the door just centimeters from Top, another struck Diver in the chest. He fell back flat, but was up a moment later with a groan, his chest plate holding strong.
"Pull out, pull out, pull out!" Top yelled to the pilot.
The Heelee lifted its nose and swooped almost gracefully out of repeater range.
"Baited ambush." said Mack.
"Yeah, and we walked right into it." Top said through gritted teeth.
There was an explosion behind them, just out of sight as they turned. It didn't sound like a grenade or rocket hit, but they couldn't be sure.
"They're dropping mortar rounds! Repeat, mortal rounds!" Coots called.
"Shab!" Top pounded the bulkhead in frustration. "Hold tight, ner vod, we'll come in another way!" Just as he said that, a streak of yellow energy narrowly missed the Heelee.
"Sarge, look!" Breeze yelled.
Top rolled backward into the crew bay and climbed over to the other side. With one look down, Alpha Squad's sergeant felt his gut sink: there on the ridge was a Separatist Heavily Artillery Gun—HAG mortar tanks, as they were known colloquially to the GAR—raining death down on the valley below.
"That's gonna make things a little more difficult." said Diver, opting for the obvious understatement.
"Don't I know it." said Top. "Pilot, pull back to that pocket on the other side of the far ridge."
"That far out?"
"It'll take a little longer, but unless you've got a turbolaser hidden in your flight jacket, we'll need the protection of distance." The pilot didn't answer, but moved to comply, swinging the ship around. "Kilo, this is Alpha. We could use an image of the terrain if you can get one."
"Roger that, Alpha. It's on the way."
The copilot leaned back into the crew bay yet again. "Once you're in, we don't have fuel to wait for you."
The ship was already in position behind the far ridge.
"Do what you have to." said Top, double-checking the team's drop lines. "We can take care of ourselves."
The copilot gave him a nod and told the pilot to hold the HELE steady.
"Alpha, go, go, go!"
With that, they jumped.
Senota Valley, Jiini-Toric border, Gelbarta,
Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
Alpha Squad scrambled down the ridge, their new camo-painted armor allowing them to blend near flawlessly into the terrain. Another mortar round exploded below, causing the ground to quiver beneath the commandos' feet.
"Coots, this is Top. How you holding?"
"Got mortars still coming from the east. Just about got us bracketed. That a HAG up there?" Coots replied.
"That it is, ner vod."
Mack stopped running, instead sighting up on the HAG with his DC-17's sniper attachment. "I think it's damaged or something, Top." he said, "There's a spotter relaying its targeting coordinates, human by the looks of him."
"You got a shot?" asked Top.
Mack eased himself to one knee and readjusted. "Target is green."
"Take him."
Mack curled his finger around the Deece's trigger, releasing a single bolt of hot blue fire. An instant later, the bolt struck its target, going straight through the spotter's macrobinoculars and out the back of his head. A clean shot, instant death.
"He won't be doing that again." Mack said dryly.
The ground next to Mack suddenly exploded with blasterfire. He rolled out of the way as the rest of Alpha spun to return fire. Within seconds, the handful of rebels who'd managed to sneak through the tall grass at their flank.
"You gotta hand it to these rebels," said Breeze, lowering his Deece, "they've really got the stealth part down."
"Oh yeah, because wheeling out a mortar tank to blast away at one RC squad is real subtle." muttered Diver. "I'd say they know we're out here now, Sarge."
"Yeah, that's a safe—"
"Top, it's getting ugly down hee!" Coots cut in. "We're gonna make a run for that line of trees about 500 meters up valley."
Top stood up and took a look down at the terrain, comparing it to the topographical map Kilo had managed to send. "Coots, I see your tree line. Afraid you're gonna be easy pickings for that heavy repeater." He switched to squad-only comms. "I want eyes on that gun."
"On it, Top." said Mack. He gave Diver the signal to head left as he took off down a small trail to the right.
"Sit tight, we'll deal with the repeater." said Top.
"What about the mortar?" asked Coots.
"We killed the spotter they were using; the thing's got a damaged targeting system or something. It's firing blind."
"Sure about that? Doesn't feel like it from down here."
"That's because you're on the shebs end of the situation. Don't worry, Coots."
Diver came jogging back. "Found them, Sarge."
"Good job." He commed Mack to head back. "Let's go say hi."
***
Breeze ran at a low crouch, taking up the rear behind the rest of Alpha Squad. At this point in the valley, the ground was all light-colored sand that in the morning sun looked almost white. With the HAG tank blasting away, Breeze really wished he could trade in his camo Katarn kit for a set of snowtrooper armor to better blend in.
The three other commandos dropped down behind a mound of rock; Breeze kept an eye on their six.
"Look at this di'kut." Breeze heard Diver say.
He checked Diver's POV icon, almost laughing when he saw on of the Jiini rebels just usenii out in the open grass.
"Hold." said Top. "We shoot now, the others have our position."
The man finished up and adjusted his pants, wandering casually back toward his friends and the heavy repeater, just around a small hill.
Top pointed to Diver, signaling him to follow. He then waved Mack and Breeze to head around the hill after the rebel. They all knew the sergeant could've simply relayed the orders verbally in the privacy of their helmets, but it was reflex to fall back on hand signals in the heat of a mission.
Top and Diver crept around the far side of the hill as Breeze and Mack trailed the careless rebel. The two commandos were almost silent as they walked. What they hadn't counted on was the equally silent-stepping pygmy bantha grazing at the top of the hill. When the creature got one look at the frightening forms of two Republic commandos, it let out a powerful cry and bolted down the hill.
The pair of rebels manning the repeater panicked at the sound, opening fire before they'd even seen the two clones. Bolts of energy shredded the pygmy bantha and carved out a chuck of the hillside as the weapon spun around, just about to tear into Breeze and Mack when Top and Diver put a pair of rounds through the rebels' backs.
"You guys okay?" Top asked.
"Yeah, we're okay, Sarge." said Breeze. "You?"
"Couldn't be better."
Breeze smiled. Top was the hardest man he knew, and that was no small thing among the ranks of clone commandos. It'd take a cruiser falling on his head to take out the sarge.
"Coots, this is Top. Heavy repeater has been neutralized."
A relieved sigh came over the comm. "Appreciate it." said Coots.
"When you guys make it to that tree line, we will rendezvous with—"
There was another mortar explosion, and screaming followed.
"Coots? Coots! Do you read me? Coots, come in!"
***
Top stared down at the pillar of dirt and smoke rising up from the ditch Beviin Squad had been taking cover in. "Coots!"
"Alpha Squad, this is Kilo. What's going on?"
Top exhaled harshly. "Mortar round hit Beviin's position. We killed the spotter; it got a lucky shot. I'm going down for an assessment."
"Advise against that, Two-Three. Flight One is refueled and heading back to your location."
"Then you need to send another to extract Beviin." said Top.
"I'll send one as soon as it becomes available."
Top shook his head. "They could be wounded."
"I'm not seeing any movement down there," said Kilo, "and we've lost all contact with Beviin."
Top felt his jaw tighten and his frustration swell. "Well, it could be their comms got knocked out."
"Roger that, but your priority is—"
"I know what my priorities are, and unless that's a direct order, I'm going to check on survivors." Top waited only a fraction of a second for Kilo to reply. "Two-Three, out."
Top turned around as he cut comms to Kilo. The rest of his squad was scanning the blown out trench for any activity.
"You know Kilo's not gonna be happy to see you when we make it back." said Diver.
"I'll take what I get." said Top, the angry edge still clinging to his voice. "Anything?"
"Nothing's moving." Breeze said grimly.
"Infrared?"
"Too hard to make out anything for sure, but there's definitely heat." said Mack. "Could be just residual from the—"
"I'm going down." said Top.
"What about the mortar?" asked Mack.
Top glanced over at him. Even with his helmet on, Mack knew that look.
"We'll take care of it for you, Top."
Top gave him a nod and started to run for the ditch. Another mortar round exploded almost on the completely opposite side of the valley.
Yeah, just firing blind, thought Top. Just hold on, Coots. I'm coming.
Senota Valley, Jiini-Toric border, Gelbarta,
Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
Top ran as fast as his weighty armor would let him, weaving through a cluster of large boulders and leaping across a wide gap.
The Kaminoans had gone on and on to Generals Zey and Camas, Top had heard, telling them of the commandos' prowess and ability to perform any mission tasked to them. Top had always been proud of such praise, but now he willed himself to go beyond. He didn't want to just "perform", he wanted to excel. Because this time it wasn't a mission, this time it was personal.
A mortar round struck less then twenty meters behind Top, peppering his back with rocks and pebbles as he dropped into Beviin Squad's trench. The sight he found awaiting him, though, almost made him wish he hadn't made it.
Top had passed the wreckage of the HELE on his way down, and he'd seen the body of the pilot dead inside. Now he found the copilot; Beviin Squad must have dragged him out with the hope of saving him. Those hopes were most certainly gone now: pieces of the copilot littered he ground, some bigger then others. Limbs were strewn around, and pieces of bloody meat dotted the ditch. The largest chunk Top found was the man's upper body, armless and charred, entrails spilling out the bottom.
Top almost vomited. He said a silent prayer that the man had already been dead before all that.
Then Top saw armor, armor painted with familiar blue markings. Coots.
It took Top only a moment to see that Beviin Squad's beloved sergeant was dead. He knelt beside him and layed a single hand on the commando's chest. "Goodbye, old friend." His voice was scarcely more then a harsh whisper.
Just then, a groan snapped Top out of his grief. He jerked his head up, spotting Wirth not far away. It was near super-sonic, the way Top had run to his side.
Wirth's helmet appeared to have been blown clean off his head in the blast, his face now covered in blood from several gashes to his face, not to mention from his busted nose and mouth. His armor looked caked in the stuff, that and dirt. But none of that mattered right then: he was alive.
Top knelt down, dropped his Deece, and popped off his helmet. "Wirth, can you hear me?" Top checked his pulse; it wasn't great but at least there was one. "Wirth, you okay, ner vod?" He obviously wasn't, it was just the kind of stuff you said at times like this. "Wirth?" Top eased the man's head up into his lap, forcing him to look him in the eye.
"Top?" Wirth muttered weakly. "That you, Top?"
"Yeah, vod'ika, it's me." Top touched a switch inside his helmet, diverting transmissions to his wrist-comlink. "Kilo, it's Alpha."
"I hear you, Alpha. Go ahead, Two-Three."
"Beviin-91 is alive. I repeat, RC-1891 is alive." said Top.
"Copy that. Any other survivors?"
Top looked around, suddenly remembering that he hadn't seen the other two members of Beviin. "Wirth, where's the rest of your squad?"
"The sarge split us up, sent 'em to the last resort position in case something should happen and we fail." Wirth forced out a brief laugh. "Y'know, something like this."
Top glanced down at Wirth's injured knee, but instead he saw the fresh blood oozing out of a deep wound in the man's thigh. Coots must've taken off his leg plates to get at the knee better, but something had cut into his thigh, almost down to bone.
"Two-Three, I repeat, are there any other survivors?" Kilo asked again.
"Top grimaced as he tried to get the bleeding under control. "Negative, Kilo. Require immediate medevac. Wirth's hurt bad."
"Flight One is on the way."
"Roger that. Tell 'em to hurry. Two-Three, out."
Wirth coughed, though no blood came up.
Good sign, thought Top, the blood's just from his busted up mouth.
"How bad is it?" Wirth asked.
Top breathed out heavily and bolted on an optimistic smile. "It's not so bad, ner vod. It'll be okay once I find the femoral artery." He let his fingers dip into the open wound, blood gushing out as he did. Wirth gasped and cried out. "Oh, shab, I'm sorry. I know that must hurt like all haran."
Wirth took a few pained breaths to deal with it, sucking air through gritted teeth. "You find it?"
"Yeah, there it is."
There was another blood splurt. Wirth grunted, his whole body wincing.
"All right, I got it." said Top. "The trouble is, the artery's retracted. I can't get a clamp on it."
Wirth groaned, this time more in frustrated defeat then pain.
"I have to apply pressure to keep the bleeding down. And you have to try to stay calm, get your breathing and heart-rate under control." said Top. "Can you do that?"
Wirth shook his head up and down, his mouth clamped tight in order to keep from crying out again.
"Good man."
***
Mack stood at the high ground, playing overwatch as Breeze planted the charges on the mortar tank.
The shabla thing's a piece of junk, Mack thought to himself, No targeting system and no proximity sensors.
It fit Intel reports, though. The Jiini rebels were notorious scavengers, the Jawas of the Tivi sector. They'd steal any weaponry they could find from anywhere they could find it, even abandoned battlefields. Still, it angered Mack that something so pathetic that so long as Breeze didn't walk up to its forward photoreceptor and wave, it'd never know they were there, but still had his brothers and fellow vode getting their shebs shot at.
"Charges set." said Breeze over the comm.
"Nice job, Br'ika." said Diver. "Now get out of there. That's gonna make one serious pop."
Top heard a loud explosion, different from a mortar round, then silence. "Mack, this is Top." No response. "Diver, come in." Still nothing. "Shab! You boys better be all right."
Mack's visor's light filter returned to normal and he looked down on the burning metal carcass of the mortar tank. "Nice job, you two. Let's get moving before Top starts—get down!"
Diver and Breeze dropped, their trust in him so absolute they hadn't even hesitated for an instant. Red energy bolts whizzed over their heads as they hit the dirt, blue ones striking back from above.
"Shift it!" Mack yelled.
"Don't gotta tell me twice." said Breeze, making a run for the canyon-like pygmy bantha path up to where Mack was.
More rebels had come out of nowhere, their natural ability for stealth on their home terrain once again managing to catch the commandos of Alpha Squad off guard. But the element of surprise seldom lasted long, and all three commandos were now returning fire as two were making their exit.
"Get up here! Move!" Mack picked off rebel after pursuing rebel but they were getting closer. The second Diver and Breeze were up, Mack fired an anti-armor round into the crevasse path, killing the closest five men and closing the hole. Breeze sprayed down energy bolts, finishing off the remaining rebels from their place on the high ground.
***
"Diver to Top."
Top smiled with relief. "Sitrep, Diver."
"The mortar has been disabled. Things got a bit hairy, but the mortar's been disabled." said Diver.
"Just the news I wanted to hear."
"Thought you might. We're heading your way now. Diver, out."
Top sighed, happy to hear they were safe and on the way. Wirth lay cradled against him, his leaned against Top's chest plate.
"I need a comm." Wirth said, his voice hoarse and strained.
"Come again?"
"I need a comm, to call my girl." Just saying those words seemed to bring a smile to his face.
"When'd you go and get a girl, Wirth'ika?" Top asked as he disconnected his wrist-comlink from his forearm plate.
"About a month back." rasped Wirth. "She's really somethin', Top. Most beautiful thing in the galaxy—puts the angels of Iego to shame."
Top couldn't help smiling at him as he handed him the comm. "I'll bet she is. Lucky woman, too, finding you, ner vod. You'll have to introduce us when we get back. Maybe she's a got a sister or something."
"Will do, Sarge." Wirth punched in the code and waited.
A woman's voice answered. "This is Shayla. Sorry, leave a message and I'll get right back to you."
"You get through?" Top asked, trying to pretend he wasn't listening, trying to pretend he was somewhere else other then here with his hand in his friend's leg.
"Message system." said Wirth. The comm beeped. "Hey, cyar'ika. It's me. Just wanted to hear your voice, say that I miss you. I can't wait to see you." He stifled a pained gasp. "Okay…I love you, cyar'ika. So much." The comm beeped again and Wirth let it fall from his hand.
Top grabbed it and pressed it back into Wirth's hand. "You're gonna wanna hold on to that, in case she calls back." Wirth just nodded faintly. Top reached out and slid his helmet back over his head with his free hand. "Mack, you read me?" He could hear blasterfire now, and it was getting closer.
"I'm here, Top. Hang tight, we're coming. Just fighting our way through, is all."
"T-tell 'em…" Wirth coughed again. "Tell 'em not to take their time."
Top grinned. "You mouthy di'kut, you ain't never gonna shut up, are you?"
"Never, Sarge."
"Good," said Top, patting him on the shoulder, "you just promise me that and we'll get you outta here."
As if on cue, the hum of a HELE's drives sounded over the valley and Top's comm crackled. "Alpha, this is Flight One."
Top looked up; he never thought he'd be happy to see the flying hunk of osik. "Flight One, good to see you."
The ship passed over the trench. "I'm gonna land on the far side of the ridge where there's a plateau."
"Negative, Flight One. You need to land in the valley. I have a man who's injured." said Top.
"It's too dangerous. You can't see what I can from up here." said the HELE pilot. "There are heavily armed hostiles crawling out from under every rock."
"No, you're not hearing me." said Top, aggravation surfacing again, and fast. "If I move this man, he'll die."
"We can't land in the valley. We'll be sitting ducks out there." he persisted.
Enough.
"You will land in this valley," Top roared over the comlink, "or by the Manda, I will shoot you out of the sky myself!"
"Yes sir!" the pilot said quickly. "Be ready. Coming in hard and fast."
Senota Valley, Jiini-Toric border, Gelbarta,
Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
The HELE transport's drives kicked up the valley's white sand as it set down atop the bombed out trench. Blasterfire continued to fly in the its direction as the rest of Alpha Squad converged on their sergeant's location.
"Oh shab!" Breeze grunted wen he saw the blood-soaked ditch.
Diver pushed past him toward Top. "Aw, osik. That you, Wirth?"
"What's left of me." Wirth muttered quietly.
"Give me a hand." said Top. "We gotta be careful moving him."
That was an understatement. With Top's right hand still keeping pressure on Wirth's femoral artery, it took all three commandos to haul him up the ditch's steep wall. Mack was holding the ground not far from the HELE, squeezing off round after round into the growing number of rebels.
The copilot of the Heelee helped get Wirth in, Diver and Breeze climbing into the crew bay after them.
Top turned back to Mack, still keeping the rebels at bay. "Let's go! Mack, forget them! We gotta go! Now!"
Mack fired again, then turned and sprinted for the HELE. Top yanked him onboard one-handed as the ship started to lift off. With his brother safe, Top turned his attention back on Wirth as the others hung out of the crew bay, firing down on the rebels.
"Kilo, this is Flight One," said the HELE pilot, "we have Alpha and—aah!"
A bolt of energy had pierced through the HELE's cockpit viewport, striking the pilot in the chest.
"Damn it!" someone shouted.
"Get him out of there!" Mack barked, pulling him through once the copilot had unfastened his crash restraints.
"Flight One, this is Kilo. What's going on?"
"He's shot, the pilot's shot." Mack reported. "Diver, hand me the medkit! Hurry!"
The copilot had picked up from the wounded pilot rather fluidly, with as little turbulence as the old HELE could manage, keeping them in the air and on course while Mack and Diver went to work. Breeze was still throwing down suppression fire out of the bay door behind them.
When Mack looked up from the pilot, he saw Top doing compressions on Wirth's chest. His eyes were shut and he wasn't breathing. When Mack glanced over again a few moments later, Top was laying the man's hands across his chest before sitting back against the bulkhead.
"He's stable, for now." Mack said, indicating the pilot. "Can't waste time getting' him to a medcenter, though." Top didn't answer. Mack yielded to the obvious question he feared he already knew the answer to. "Wirth?"
"He's gone." Top said after a moment's pause. "Lost too much blood."
There was a long uncomfortable silence in the crew bay before Mack spoke up again. "Every call you made today was the right one, Top."
The sergeant said nothing, just nodded slowly, staring at the opposite side of the ship. At least that's how it looked to the world outside, you never really could tell where a helmeted man's eyes were looking.
"It's just bad look, that's all."
"Yeah," Top sighed, "just bad luck."
For the rest of the trip back to the security station in Mamet, Top sat in silence, staring down at the blood dripping slowly off his black glove.
Mamet Security Station, Gelbarta, Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
The HELE landed in front of the security station and a team of medics ran out to take the pilot—who Alpha Squad now knew as Kirklan—off on a repuslorgurney. The four commandos disembarked and slowly walked into the station.
Station Director Breit Sykes was waiting for them. Sykes was a giant of a man with thick, curly black hair and a beard that went halfway down his chest. While slightly overweight, with his near seven-foot-tall stature, it only added to his overall impression of big.
"Gentlemen," he said quietly, "you advisor's already contacted me. I'm very sorry to hear about your comrades."
Top was grateful for his concealing helmet visor. "Thank you, Director. But I'm afraid we failed to assassinate the rebel leader."
The director looked the picture of sympathy, but when he opened his mouth to speak again, one of the security officers approached. "Yes, what is it?"
"We've had word from the village Parazina, it's under attack from a sniper. There was a unit of two clones up there, sir. One's down, possibly dead. The other is unaccounted for. That was several minutes ago. Since then, we've had no contact with our office there."
Director Sykes' expression of sympathy transformed into angry action. "Get together a team, we'll—"
"Sir," Top interrupted suddenly, "with all due respect, we are you team. Those two clones you mentioned are our comrades, too. We'll go and extract them and put that sniper out of commission. Just point us in the right direction, sir."
The director almost smiled. "Of course." He looked over to the security officer beside him. "Oxus, take these men to the swoop bikes out back."
"Yes, sir."
The man beckoned Alpha Squad to follow, and they did. At the rear of the station were eight swoop bikes, already primed to go. Oxus transmitted the village coordinates to their helmets' HUD systems from his datapad. Without a word, the four commandos mounted their bikes and were away in an instant.
This was their second chance, the opportunity to bring back half of Beviin Squad, the chance to save what vode they could.
Top vowed that he wouldn't waste it.
Parazina, Jiini-Toric border, Gelbarta,
Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
Four swoop bikes and their heavily armed and armored riders sped up to the village outskirts. As they dismounted, each of the commandos were already doing a visual sweep of the area. Parazina was by no means a sprawling metropolis, but even for a small village it was too quite for Alpha Squad's liking.
"Kilo, this is Alpha." said Top, "Any word from Beviin?" All Top got in response was static. "Kilo, this is Alpha. Do you copy?" Just more static followed. "Fierfek, that's just great. Guys, I've got no contact with Kilo." Even on the squad comlink, the only reply was static. "Meh'shab?" Top turned around to find Diver trying his wrist-comlink and Breeze tapping angrily at his helmet.
"Anybody else having comm trouble?" Breeze asked, his voice coming from his helmet's audio projector now.
"I've got nothing. Long range, short range—we can't even talk on the helmet comms." said Top.
Each of them got a scan readout of the region sent to their HUD displays from Mack. "We're not being jammed," he said, "this is something natural. Look at the area's energy field readings: through the roof. The villagers must use hard-line comms."
Top just grimaced to himself. There goes privacy. "The one good thing is that we're dealing with a sniper situation here. Normal operations, just external audio. We're not going to be close enough for him to listen in, anyway. Oh, and Kilo will just have to sit this one out in the dark."
The crack of a blaster being fired, split the unnatural silence that hung over the village.
"Not one of ours." said Diver. "Gotta be our enemy sniper."
Top nodded, then pointed to the left. "That's our direction of movement. Clockwise sweep. We're looking for two of our own—one alive, one unknown. Until we know for certain, hope for the best."
"And prepare for the worst." said Mack, already knowing what Top would say next.
"Exactly. Now, let's move."
Alpha Squad moved among the outer buildings, then into a narrow alleyway between two large ones. Top was at the front, with Diver just behind him, checking each of the doors and alcoves they passed in more detail. At the end of the alley, Top slowly craned his head around the corner of the building, searching the open plaza for any sign of the sniper or Beviin Squad's remaining two commandos.
At the far end of the plaza was a building marked HESTEORIA; a quick check to his HUD's database and Top found it was a hotel. A three-story building—one of the tallest in the small village—the top floor of the hotel had all the plaza-facing windows open.
Top leaned back into the alley and pointed out the hotel to Breeze.
Breeze glanced around the corner, then pulled back and nodded to the sergeant. "If I were a sniper, that's where I'd want to be."
"You are a sniper." Diver deadpanned.
"That's my point."
Top nodded. "Let's move further down the block, then try to cross where the street's more narrow."
"Roger that, Sarge."
The squad turned around and followed Mack back out of the alley and down the back street they'd come on. When they came out of a different alley to a considerably smaller expanse of open ground, Breeze checked the hotel out again.
"Any movement?" Top asked.
"Nothing I can see." said Breeze.
"Yeah, that's what worries me." Top looked back to Diver and Mack. "You two feeling brave?"
Mack let out a humorless snort. "First man out has the best chance with a sniper that's settled in. Take him by surprise, you know that. It should be you, Top."
"Why, because I'm the leader? No. You and Diver go. Breeze and I will risk it."
Mack didn't argue, though some part of him wanted to. Maybe if they had the luxury of private comms, but they didn't—and so he wouldn't. "All right. Diver, on three." They were side-by-side at the mouth of the alley. "Three!"
"Sha—aab!" Diver had never really gotten used to that; his old squad had actually counted to three—like a normal person would, thought Diver. But even then, he was only a fraction of a second behind Mack. As soon as they'd reached cover across the street, Top and Breeze bolted after them.
Two shots rang out, but neither commando was hit.
"That was close!" said Breeze, breathing hard.
"Let's get inside so we don't slip up and give him another chance." said Top.
Breeze kicked in the door to the closest building, his Deece held at the ready for any trouble. The room was empty; judging by the simple table and the cooking utensils on it, this was a residence. Mack and Diver pushed by him, moving to check out the rest of the rooms. After a few moments of tense waiting, they came back in with their rifles down at their sides.
"All clear, Top." said Mack, "The villagers must've fled."
"Yeah, who can blame them?" He walked over to the window facing the open plaza, his back pressed tightly against the wall. Top cautiously peeked out, careful not to disturb the lumi-shades.
There, in the center of the plaza, lay a familiar figure in silver-gray armor. A DC-17 lay nearby, but there was no sign of the missing helmet.
"Osik." Top hissed. It wasn't loud, and it wasn't angry. Just two simple syllables of hate.
"What is it?" Breeze regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. What else could it be?
"We've got one body." Top said, grimly. "Green-painted gauntlets and blonde hair—that's Gill."
There was a collective sigh of grief from the commandos of Alpha.
"Where's Dobber?" asked Mack.
"If Dobber's alive," Top said, shifting to a different window with a different perspective, "then he's in overwatch. Best guess…that building." He tilted his head toward a gray-white building almost opposite the hotel.
Another blaster bolt rang out, different from the last.
"That's the sound of a Deece—that's ours, that's Dobber!" said Top, feeling hopeful for the first time that day.
"He's alive." Mack said, the relieved smile given away in his voice.
There was another shot, this one from the sniper.
"No muzzle flash from our friend." said Breeze. "I didn't see any laser bolt, either. This guy's no amateur."
"No," said Top, "not remotely." He was looking back out the first window, back out at Gill. His brow furrowed darkly and his jaw clenched tighter. "It's not his first show, but it'll be his last."
Something creaked behind them, and Diver wheeled around.
"Thought you cleared that side." said Mack.
"You guys stay here." Diver said. "I'll check it out."
He walked slowly around the corner and into the next room, looking everything over again with intense scrutiny. For some reason, a large, wooden holobook shelf caught his attention this time. A seemingly ridiculous idea flashed through his mind—something he'd seen in a holovid once—but Diver had been trained to trust his instincts in times such as these. He crept forward, his grip tight on his Deece. Diver reached out, grabbed the shelf, and shoved it aside.
A veritable wall of screaming hit him like a speeder. Four women and an old man had been hiding in a small hole of a room behind the old holobook shelf.
"Whoa, whoa!" he shouted, lowering his Deece. "I'm not going to shoot you! But it's not safe here. You have to get out, now!"
"They'll kill us." said one of the women. She seemed to be the only one who spoke any Basic, and even then it was with a serious accent. But to his surprise, Diver found something alluring about it.
"Out the back." Diver hadn't even heard Top come in. "Go out the back and head east. You'll be safe that way."
"Truly?"
The commandos nodded, almost in sync.
The woman translated their message to what Diver and Top assumed to be her family. "Thank you, thank you." she said. She looked as if she were trying to see passed the commandos' T-visor, seeking to meet their eyes in gratitude.
"Just go." said Top, rather coldly.
Diver thought it seemed a little too cold for his sergeant, but he didn't say anything.
She nodded quietly, leading the others toward the building's rear exit as Top and Diver rejoined the others.
"We have a location on the sniper?" Diver asked.
"Couldn't get an exact on the shot." said Breeze. "Might not be the hotel, though, like we thought."
Another Deece sniper round fired, this one going through the window Top had just passed and hitting the wall behind Mack.
"We gotta let Dobber know we're here." said Top.
Breeze scoffed. "Yeah, before he shoots us."
"With comms dead, that's not gonna be easy, Top." said Mack. "Any ideas?"
Top thought for a moment. "Give him a visual."
Breeze knelt beside the door they'd come in, pulling a small, square mirror from his utility belt. He eased it outside, catching the sun and flashing a signal for Dobber to see.
Until a bolt of energy shattered it, that is.
Breeze jerked back, standing up quickly, letting fly a long stream of curses as he did.
Mack laughed. "With that aim, that's Dobber all right."
"Glad we established that." Breeze grimaced, looking his hand over for any cuts from the mirror.
Even among us, Dobber always was something special, thought Top. One of those boys that just really takes to the scope, like Lio…or that nutcase, Sev.
"He's been up there a long time, I'd bet." said Diver.
"Yep." said Top, eyeing the window where a DC-17 sniper barrel had so briefly poked out of. "He's been up there long enough to be hunting anything and everything that moves…including us."
Residence Building, Parazina, Jiini-Toric border, Gelbarta,
Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
Top and Breeze crept quietly up the stairs. The earpieces Diver had raided from the Parazina Security Office felt awkward inside their helmets. They were larger then the more common bead comlinks and ran on short-wave frequencies. Despite near constant buzzing interference, at least they allowed Alpha to have comms again within the village limits.
"How do we let him know we're friendlies?" Breeze whispered, despite once again having the quiet security of their helmets. "You know, without taking a sniper round in the chest?"
Dobber had "gone native" as Top's old training sergeant used to say; stuck to the scope, he'd shoot a shadow if he thought it might be the enemy.
"Any luck getting a hold of him with this old tech?" asked Top, tapping his helmet where the earpiece was inside.
"Nothing."
They reached the door to the room Dobber was holed up in, the doors cracked open just enough for Top to see in.
"Got a plan, Sarge?" asked Breeze.
"Yeah." Top reached out to push the door open, but Breeze jerked him back.
"What the shab are you doing?!" Breeze barked at his sergeant. "You bust in there, he'll put a hole through you so fast—"
"That's a chance I'm willing to take. I've already lost three good friends today—three good brothers. If I've gotta take a little thing like a laserbolt to save the one I still can, then you can bet your shebs I will." said Top, glaring at Breeze right through his visor.
"Top…"
Top laid a firm hand on Breeze's shoulder. "Just stay back. I'm only gonna get one try."
"Sarge, wait." said Breeze. "Mack, you hear me?"
"Barely. Go ahead."
"When I say go, I want you to put ten shots into the roof of the building across from here."
"Got it." said Mack.
Top looked at Breeze; even with helmets on, he knew what that look meant all too well.
"Sorry, Sarge. But I plan on leaving this dirtball with all my brothers." said Breeze. "Go!"
A stream of blasterfire erupted from below, carving into the roof of the building across the street next to the hotel. At the same time, Top pushed through the doors, arms spread wide at his sides.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Dobber spun around, lifting his Deece toward the presumed attack. The rifle leveled at Top's chest and Dobber's finger curled around the trigger.
"Top?"
"Dobber, stay down!" Top snapped. It was too late.
A shot fired and Dobber fell forward. Top dropped to his knees and grabbed his friend—he could hear him breathing hard—pulling him out into the hall. Dobber groaned.
"Easy, easy," Top said quietly, "try to stay still."
"We've gotta get him." Dobber grunted. Top thought he meant the sniper, but then Dobber said, "Gill's out there. We gotta get him!"
Top shook his head. "We're gonna take care of you first." He looked over at Breeze. "Take up Dobber's position on overwatch. See if you can get an angle. We gotta get this guy and get moving."
"On it, Sarge." said Breeze, moving back into the room and snapping his Deece's sniper attachment into place.
"Diver, Mack, get up here." said Top. He began to carefully remove Dobber's torso plates. A few centimeters left of his spine, and a few down from his shoulderblade was a rather nasty looking blaster wound. "Fierfek, what the shab is he shooting?"
"SoruSuub X-45." said Dobber. "Caught a glimpse of it just before you guys showed up."
Top smiled. "You always did know your sniper rifles."
Mack and Diver rounded the corner from the stairs. As soon as he saw Dobber laying there, Mack pulled off his pack and grabbed some bacta and bandages.
"How many snipers we dealing with?" Diver asked as Mack went to work.
"Only one. Shabuir moves like a lighting fox, though." Dobber winced as Mack cut away a section of his bodysuit and started applying bacta to the wound. "Hurts like haran. Is it bad?"
Mack shook his head. "Nah, your armor took the worst of it. Good thing, too. You say this was an X-45?"
Dobber nodded.
Mack let out an impressed sigh. "They've got a nasty reputation. You lucked out."
"Movement!" Breeze called from the other room. "I see movement!"
"Where and what kind?" asked Top, getting up and looking in on Breeze.
Suddenly, a woman went running from one of the buildings across the plaza.
"Shab!" Breeze hissed. "Unarmed villager! What's she—" Then the feared inevitable happened: a shot rang out and she fell to the dirt. "The damn sniper got her. I saw muzzle flash, though."
"Right." Top turned and waved Diver over. "Take second overwatch position with Breeze. Let's see if we can put this sniper down here and now."
Diver nodded. "My pleasure, Sarge." Top could tell he meant it. Diver ducked down and shuffled over next to Breeze, locking in his sniper attachment for his Deece. "Where are we looking at?"
"Top floor, hotel. Right where we thought before, this guy's just good at playing the hard angles." said Breeze. "You watch the right side, I'll take the left."
Diver knelt and raised his Deece in preparation for the shot, zooming in on the window furthest to the right. But as soon as he did, Diver exhaled sharply.
Instead of an armed sniper, he found a gray-haired old woman standing in front of the window with her hands tied and mouth gagged, tears streaming down her face.
"Shabii'gar, gar shabla hut'uun!" Diver sneered.
It only took Breeze a second to see what Diver saw, and his reaction wasn't too far off. "Top, we got bad news. This hut'uun'la chakaar's using human shields. He's got one in front of each window, and I think I can see him moving around behind another."
"Can you risk a shot without hitting any of the civilians?"
"Negative. I mean target is mega red, Sarge. What do we—"
"Wait, where'd he go?" Diver said suddenly.
"Get eyes on him." said Top.
The two commandos quickly checked from window to window, but when Diver got to the third window from the right, a sniper barrel was staring back through his scope.
The sniper fired and both commandos dropped flat to the floor.
"Diver! Breeze!" Top yelled over the earpiece. Even without it, he was certainly loud enough for them to hear. "You two all right?!"
There was a chilling moment of silence before Top heard Breeze take a deep breath. "Fine, Sarge. We're headed back your way."
***
Top and Mack had Dobber downstairs now, laying on the makeshift stretcher they'd put together, just like Sergeant Gilamar had taught them in his field medical courses back on Kamino.
"He's wrapped himself with hostages." said Diver as he and Breeze came down the stairs.
"Do we wait him out?" asked Breeze.
"No," said Top, "we're leaving."
"What about those villagers? Once we're gone, what do you think that sniper's gonna do when he gets bored?" said Breeze.
Top shut off his helmet's external audio. "Mack's got Dobber stabilized, but more then anything, he's running on painkillers and adrenaline. He needs better medical attention then we can give him here. The villagers will just have to wait."
"You guys talking about me behind my back?" Dobber asked teasingly.
"No more then usual." said Top, patting Dobber's leg. "Mack, take overwatch. Draw his fire but don't do anything stupid."
"You realize that's kind of an oxymoron." Diver said, playing deadpan snarker again when all he wanted to do more then anything was grab the sarge and shake him, get him to drop the guilt and be himself again.
"That it is, but it's what we need to get out of here." said Top.
Mack nodded and rushed up the stairs, already formulating a plan of how to get the sniper's attention without losing something he might miss later.
Dobber suddenly shook his head fiercely. "You seen the images of what the rebels do to their enemies? We can't leave Gill out there!"
"Don't intend to." said Top.
Mack went to the lumi-shade control, and with a deep breath, jerked them all up. With the sudden movement, the sniper fired. Oh good, thought Mack, I see this guy doesn't miss a beat.
He crawled over to the first window and got up on his knees. "I'm up," he said to himself, "he sees me…" Mack dropped, just as the sniper fired again. "…and I'm down." He rolled over to the next window and did it again. "I'm up…he sees me…I'm—" He didn't even get a chance to say "down" before the sniper fired again, but he'd already dropped. Mack scoffed to himself. Patience is a virtue, shabuir. He rolled over to the next window, and did it all again.
At the same time, Top and Diver carried Dobber out the back on the stretcher, as Breeze moved into position to switch the sniper's focus for when Mack needed his out. They rushed across a dangerously open street as Mack continued to hold the shooter's attention.
"You said you weren't gonna leave Gill out there!" Dobber shouted.
"We'll be back for him later." said Top. "Once we get you some help and that sniper's bug-eyed and tired."
Dobber reached up and shoved Top, almost making him drop the stretcher. "I ain't leaving!"
"Look, Dob'ika, Gill is dead. He ain't getting any deader." said Top, though he didn't like it. "We're not gonna stick around and let you follow in his footsteps."
"Well then you'd better knock me out, 'cause long as I'm kickin', I'm not gonna leave him lay out there for the rebels to—"
"Top…" Mack's voice crackled in Top's ear. "I think you need to get eyes on Gill."
Top's mind flooded with a thousand possible reasons as to why he needed to check on Gill, and none of them were good. He and Diver gently set down Dobber, and Top cautiously poked his head around the corner. He set his visor's HUD sensors to magnify visual fields and almost gasped when he did.
Out in the middle of the plaza—despite the sniper still raining death from above—there was movement.
Top ducked back behind the building, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He turned around to Diver and Dobber, and made sure the others could hear him as well.
"Mission change. Gill's alive."
South end of Lani Plaza, Parazina, Jinii-Toric border,
Gelbarta, Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
Top stared out into the plaza from the cover of a narrow alley. He watched in angry silence as RC-3172—Gill—lay out in the open, desperately reaching for his DC-17. They'd thought he was dead, and probably would have left him to die if Mack hadn't seen his hand grasping for the weapon.
"We gotta haul him out." said Top, firmly.
"We gotta deal with that sniper." said Mack, now standing just behind him.
Top nodded. "I know. Get ready: we're bounding enemy overwatch one more time." he looked back over his shoulder as each member of Alpha Squad nodded. "Sit tight, Dobber. We'll be right back with Gill. Go!"
Top bolted from the mouth of the alley with Mack right behind him. They kept close to the side of the building, trying to use the shop awnings for whatever cover they could. The two commandos dropped behind a large, stone flower planter. Before their dust had settled, Breeze and Diver sprinted after them.
Shots rained down on the plaza from the sniper, barely missing them. Mack fired off a few shots in his direction, hoping to keep him occupied with ducking while Breeze and Diver caught up.
"He's sure firing a lot of shots for an X-45." said Diver when he slid in next to them.
"Guess he likes to customize his kit. Probably has his name engraved on the handle in fancy letters." Breeze muttered.
"See that permacrete barrier up there?" Top said to the squad. He indicated a three-foot-tall, four-foot-wide slab of permacrete jutting out of the end of the next building up. "We make for that. Let's move!"
Alpha Squad took off again as sniper bolts struck the walkway, the side of the buildings, and balcony support beams. One struck a glancing blow off Diver's shoulderplate. A moment later, they were behind the barrier and pressed into the corner of the doorway.
Top was breathing hard. An energy bolt had only missed being a face shot by millimeters. "Mack, when I say go, you pop smoke. In two seconds, I'm in the room with our sniper. He'll be a little preoccupied to shoot you. When the time feels right, you and Diver grab Gill."
"Got it, Top." said Mack, going for his smoke grenades.
Top tapped Breeze on the arm, and the two of them disappeared into the building. Diver poked his Deece over the top of the barrier and fired off a few rounds, trying to keep the sniper's attention on them. A bolt whizzed just narrowly over his head.
Yep, Diver thought, I've got his attention, all right.
Meanwhile, Top and Breeze had already gone out the back and in and out of the next building. With the sniper fixed on all the fuss Diver was making, they easily slipped into the hotel. Through to the back and up the stairs, they made almost no sound at all.
"Mack, this is Top. Do it."
Mack and Diver tossed two smoke grenades over the permacrete barrier and out into the plaza. The canisters hissed as thick gray smoke billowed out.
Top kicked in the door, Breeze right at his side.
A split second became an hour. The two commandos picked out the armed sniper amid a room full of bound hostages, adhesive tape over their mouths. There was a muted panic and people ran, others fell to the floor. The X-45 turned with its owner, swinging around to fire on the intruders. As the sniper turned, Both Top and Breeze almost froze up when they saw the infant taped to the man's chest. Almost.
A pair of shots went off and it was like time sped back up as the rifle flew from the sniper's hand and he fell; a blaster hole now adorned his forehead.
The baby cried and the hostages continued to scream behind the tape across their mouths. Breeze ran to the baby while Top cut the hostages' bonds and tore away the tape.
Outside, Mack and Diver had run into the cloud of smoke, rolling Gill over gently onto his back. "Hold on, ner vod." said Mack. "We're gonna get you some help, just hold..."
In the hotel room, something by the window's edge caught Top's attention. He walked slowly over to the window, eyeing a strange arch of reflecting light. When he got closer, Top found it was a thin strand of fibercord that stretched down into the plaza. He lifted it slightly and felt his jaw drop when at the same time he tugged the line, Gill's hand moved.
Mack's voice came across the earpiece comm. "Top, they rigged him. Gill's not alive, the shabuir was just playing puppetmaster."
Top breathed out a long sigh. "Yeah, I see. Cut the line, Mack."
Breeze handed the baby back to his mother, then turned to look at his heart-broken sergeant. "You okay, Sarge?"
Top clenched his jaw and buried his anger under a layer of fresh resolve. "That's a lot of work and thought just to draw us out." Top said, reeling in the fibercord line.
Now Breeze sighed. "It worked."
"But he was doing just fine without it." He went quiet for a moment, running through every possible "why". Then it hit him. "They baited us in. Dobber, you good to move?"
Halfway across the village, Dobber sat up and grabbed the handheld comm Diver had acquired. "Yeah. What is it, Top?"
"Check our back door. I think we might have visitors coming."
With a grunt and a groan, Dobber struggled to his feet, using his Deece to help. Once standing, he willed himself to move and made his way around toward the end of the village where the main road came in.
Back at the hotel, Top looked around at the scared hostages. "Does anyone speak Basic here?"
"I do." said one of the men.
"Did that man leave anything here?" Top asked.
"Yes, he had a bag." The man pointed under a chair in the rear of the room.
Breeze was on it in a heartbeat but after a thorough search of the pack, he shook his head. "No threat here, Sarge. This is just a bunch of junk."
"He put sumtin back dare." said a younger kind in very broken Basic.
"He put what, where?" asked Top.
"Don't know. Sumtin. Behind door." the kid said, pointing toward the room's closet.
Breeze walked over, eyeing the door. He laid flat, trying to see if anything showed from beneath. When nothing did, he carefully turned the handle and slowly pulled the door open. "Oh shab!"
"What?" Top asked anxiously.
Another strand of fibercord was hooked to the edge of the door, connected to a device on the other side that couldn't have more obviously been a bomb if it had been labeled.
Breeze slowly closed the door again and eased his hand off the handle. "It's booby-trapped, Sarge."
"Top," Dobber said over the earpiece comm, "we've got company. Get eyes on the plaza."
Top and Breeze walked over to the windows and watched two open-backed repulsortrucks, loaded with rebel soldiers, pull into the plaza.
"Yeah, they set the trap all right."
The armed rebels started to hop out, and Top heard Breeze give a small chuckle. "Hey, Sarge, isn't that out original mission headed this way?"
Top looked again and sure enough, there he was: Doluk Casteen, Jinii rebel leader. Top smiled, though it belied the intentions forming in the sergeant's mind.
"Sure is. And it looks like he's coming to talk."
Parazina Hotel, Parazina, Jinii-Toric Border, Gelbarta,
Mid Rim, 410 days after Geonosis
Top watched from the hotel terrace as a third repulsortruck pulled into the plaza below. There were now more then fifty armed men out there. Some even had half-decent body armor by the looks of it. But the real problem was the repeater turret mounted over the cab of the newly arrived truck.
At least all the hostages are gone, thought Top, nothing worse then trying to fight around civvies.
Or at least that's what he had heard. Top and the rest of Alpha Squad had so far been fortunate enough not to have been in those kinds of situations.
He turned around and went back inside, motioning for Breeze to follow him downstairs where the rest of Alpha was waiting.
"What's the plan, Sarge?" asked Diver as soon as they were all together again. "That's an awful lot of rebels out there."
"It's that repeater that's bothering me." said Mack.
Top tapped the side of his helmet, activating the earpiece link to Dobber. "Dobber, you still have eyes on our friends out there?"
"Sure do." Dobber replied. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Yeah, find yourself a nice place to shoot from."
"Already got one."
"Good. When I give the word, I want you to take out that turret gunner. All right?"
"Can do easy, Top."
Top looked to his squad now. "As for us, we're walking right out the front door." He held up a thermal detonator. "Gonna cook 'em off on a two-count, understand?" The others quickly nodded and went for their own stock of grenades. "Ready? One…" Top primed the det and stepped out the door. "Dobber, now!" The repeater gunner added a new hole to his head and Top tossed the grenade. "Two!"
He moved aside as each of the commandos followed suit, priming the dets on "One" and tossing them on "Two".
The thermal detonators went off one after the other in a series of satisfying booms, taking out a sizable chunk out of the rebel number. Not enough, though.
Alpha Squad ducked back inside as the shock wore off and the remaining rebels opened fire. From his new second-floor position, Dobber picked off a handful with almost frightening accuracy. But as soon as they got a fix on where he was, a small team of rebels split off from the rest and headed into his building.
"Oh shab." Dobber grumbled as he changed out the clip for his Deece. His wound burned fiercely and he didn't even have his torso armor or helmet on now. He flipped a large table over and knelt behind it, his rifle pointed squarely at the room's only door. "Okay, come on you chakaare…"
One by one, they rushed into the room with their rifles drawn. Dobber squeezed off quick bursts of fire, dropping them as they came until a pile of bodies lay in front of the door and no more rebels came.
"Sounds like a good plan to me, Sarge." said Diver.
Top turned to Mack and Breeze. "They gotta think they can beat us for this to work. We move into contact, then peel off." He glanced over at Diver again. "We're gonna buy you a minute or two, then bring 'em back."
"Got it." Diver nodded and bolted for the stairs.
"That doesn't mean take your time, ner vod!" Breeze called after him.
They heard Diver chuckle as the other three members of Alpha Squad ran outside, blasters firing. The commandos got down behind a grounded speeder, repulsors damaged by a sniper round it seemed. Each took turns firing a volley of blaster bolts over the top and at the rebels a few meters away.
Up in the hotel, Diver headed for the booby-trapped closet. He slowly eased the door open and placed a strip of adhesive tape over the door's bolt catch so that there was no longer any need to turn the handle. Then he just as carefully closed the door as he'd opened it, and grabbed the reel of fibercord Top had wound up earlier.
Breeze pulled back and retreated into the hotel.
Diver made a loop at the end of the fibercord line and slid it securely over the door handle.
Mack pulled back and joined Breeze inside the hotel. The rebels saw their enemies retreating and began to grow bolder, pressing forward.
Diver uncoiled the fibercord reel slowly as he backed away into the other room and down the first few steps of the service stairwell.
Top fired two more shots, killing a pair of rebels, then turned and sprinted back into the hotel. The rebels now charged and busted into the hotel as Alpha Squad raced up the stairs. Unburdened by heavy armor, the first rebels were quickly catching up to the commandos. When they hit the top floor, Mack turned and fired of a few rounds, just enough to temporarily slow the rebels down while Alpha Squad rounded the corner and darted down the service stairs.
"Diver!" Top shouted. "Now!"
Diver took a handful of the fibercord and gave it a firm yank. The cord jerked and pulled the door open. An instant later, the Parazina Hotel ceased to have a third floor.
Suffering severe casualties after being caught by their own booby-trap, the surviving rebels turned tail and fled. They'd almost made it back to their repulsortrucks when Alpha Squad emerged from the service alley.
Top raised his Deece with one hand, sighted up on Doluk Casteen, and put a round right through the back of the man's left knee. He fell face-first into the dirt but the rest of his so-called comrades didn't even slow down to help their wounded leader. Instead, they just jumped back on their trucks and sped away out of the village.
Doluk rolled over onto his back, screaming loudly in pain.
"Yeah, I'll bet that hurt." said Top, his tone pure ice. Alpha Squad's sergeant walked slowly over to the wounded rebel and stood over him menacingly. "You can't understand a word I'm saying, can you?"
Doluk stopped carrying on whatever language the Gelbartans spoke and cried, "Yes! Yes, I speak Basic!" Maybe now he thought that meant he could ask for mercy.
Top kicked Doluk's weapon away and knelt down next to him. He set his Deece down behind him and reached up, taking off his helmet so he could look the coward in the eye. "Good, I'm glad you do. Because I want you to understand something: we came here for you. But this isn't about the Republic." Top ejected the vibroblade from his knuckleplate. "This is about justice for my vode."
And with that, Top sunk the blade into Doluk's chest. He pulled it out only after he'd stopped breathing.
Top stood up slowly, retracting the blade with the blood still on it. The village was utterly silent; not even the sound of the rebels' repulsortruck drives could be heard now. He turned around and all three of his brothers were quietly staring at him.
"Are you…uh…" Breeze wasn't quite sure what to say, or if he even should say something at all.
Top took a heavy breath. "Let's go get Dobber."
Just then, a large shadow crept across the village. The four commandos looked up as a Venator cruiser hung overhead in low atmosphere.
"Alpha, this is cruiser Victory." The area's natural energy disruption must not have meant much to the cruiser's high-powered comm systems. "We hear you're in need of a lift. Sit tight, we're sending gunships now."
Top pulled the earpiece out and tossed it aside, sliding his helmet back into place. "Victory, this is Alpha. Much appreciated. Prep a bacta tank in the med bay, we've got a wounded man from Beviin coming home with us. And send word to Special Ops that rebel leader Doluk Casteen has been dealt with."
"Roger that. Good work, Alpha Squad."
Arca Company Barracks, SO Brigade HQ, Coruscant, 411 days after Geonosis
Victory didn't get back to Coruscant until the early morning hours of the following day. The commandos of Alpha Squad had trudged wearily into the barracks. Mack and Breeze went straight for their bunks. Diver headed for the cafeteria. And Top had gone to the 'freshers for a shower.
Now out of the shower and in fresh fatigues, Top found himself staring at the lockers that used to belong to Beviin Squad. He toweled his hair absentmindedly while standing there, not even noticing when Kilo walked in wearing full armor, minus his helmet.
"I came to say good job, Sergeant."
Top turned around and gave an unofficial salute. "Thank you, sir."
"I hear most of Beviin Squad didn't make it, but that you managed to rescue RC-3366 from the—"
Sometimes certain things just made men under stress snap, things that normally would pass unnoticed. For some reason, Kilo's use of Dobber's serial number turned out to be that jarring thing for Top.
He slammed Kilo into the lockers and got right in his face. "Dobber! His name is Dobber! The mission's over now and we're not on an open frequency, so you can drop the numbers. You want everybody to call you Kilo, don't you? What the shab makes you so shabla special?! He just lost his squad, his brothers! The least you can do is call him by his name instead of a number like some Force-forsaken droid who doesn't care!"
Kilo stared back at Top with cold eyes. "Sergeant, you will take your hands off me right now, or so help me—"
"What? Huh?"
Kilo shot his hand out, striking Top in the chest and knocking him back. Top was just about to retaliate when a crimson-marked ARC trooper captain strode into the locker room.
"Stand down," he growled through his helmet's audio projector, "both of you!"
Kilo drew himself up to full height. "Captain, you'll notice that these yellow stripes are not decorative. I am a commander, and thus have no need to suffer the—"
The captain took off his helmet and glared daggers at Kilo for a heartbeat before interrupting mid-sentence. "And I am an ARC trooper who reports directly to General Zey so you'd better think twice about where you brandish those stripes, CC-13/762, or you'll really suffer."
The two clones were nose to nose; Kilo wasn't backing down. The fact that he had been called by his own number had set fire to his temper. But ARCs never backed down, especially not one as surly as Captain Maze. The death stare held for another moment before Kilo finally stepped back with an indignant huff.
"You ARCs really are all thick-headed Jango." Kilo muttered, heading for the door.
"Coming from a meatcan like you, that's a welcome compliment." Maze said. When Kilo was gone, Maze turned around to Top. "Get a hold of your temper, Sergeant, or you'll end up on a charge."
Top felt his face burn with embarrassment. "Sorry, sir. And…thank you."
Maze considered him for a moment before nodding and giving him a pat on the shoulder, then walked out.
After meeting Corvo and Stec, and now actually getting in a few words with Maze, Top was beginning to think he would never really understand the mystery that was the ARC trooper. Maybe what they said was true about their similarity to Jango; they definitely seemed every bit as complicated, confusing, and unpredictable as the stories about Jango claimed.
Top was about to head to his bunk when curiosity got the best of him. He walked over to the row of lockers and opened Wirth's. It wasn't really an invasion of privacy; none of the lockers were actually locked, and the custodial crew would be in later in the day to reallocate what could be reused and dispose of what couldn't. Such was army life for a clone.
Inside was all the usuals you would expect to find in a commando's locker, except for a small plastoid box that Top didn't recognize as GAR issue. He reached in and pulled it out, turning it over in his hand until he saw a strip of tape that was marked: IF I DIE, PLEASE DELIVER TO THIS ADDRESS; a delivery label was pasted beneath it. It was a Coruscant address, and Top could only guess that it was where Wirth's girl lived.
Top contemplated the small brown box in his hands. "Yeah, Wirth," he said to himself at last, "I'll do it."
Office of General Arligan Zey, Director of Special Forces,
SO Bridge HQ, Coruscant, 411 days after Geonosis
"Ah, Two-Three, please come in." Jedi General Arligan Zey sat behind his desk, looking over the stack of flimsi paperwork he'd been at for the past six standard hours. He felt as though he hadn't slept in days.
Top, dressed in fatigues and with a plastoid box in one hand, walked in and stood in front of the desk.
"General."
"Would you like to sit down?" Zey put down the sheets in his hand and indicated the chair across from him. He was relieved to have a distraction from the horribly dull load that'd been dropped in his lap.
Top sat and laid the box in his lap. "Thank you, sir."
Zey flashed the commando as smile. "Since I don't remember calling you for anything, was there something you needed to see me about?" By the Force, I even sound like I haven't slept in days, Zey thought.
"Yes, General. I was hoping to talk to you about Wirth. Beviin-91."
Zey's pleasant expression turned to grim sympathy. He had heard all about the mess on Gelbarta not long ago. "Yes, Commander Kilo was keeping me apprised of the mission's progress. I was very sorry to hear that Beviin Squad suffered such high casualties. How is Six-Six?"
"Recovering, sir. In a bacta tank aboard the cruiser Victory right now." Top replied.
Zey let out a small sigh. He had actually been more concerned with the commando's general emotional well-being then his physical injuries, but didn't press what was likely to be a sensitive issue. "He'll most likely be joining Par'jila Squad; they just lost one of their own on a mission to the Tecra Cluster."
"Very good, sir. I'm sure they'll do fine."
"As am I. Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about in regards to—Wirth, was it?" By now, Zey had eyed the plastoid box in Top's lap but decided to let that come up in its own time.
Top took a deep breath. "General, on this mission…" He seemed to be trying very carefully to find the right words. "…I came to learn that Beviin-91—"
"Wirth." Zey offered. Now that he knew what his squadmates had called Nine-One, Zey felt he owed him use of that name.
Top certainly looked grateful. "I came to learn that Wirth was having a relationship with a woman here when he wasn't deployed."
Zey didn't even try to hide his surprise at the news. "Really? Do you know who she is?"
"Just her first name. And her address was on this box in Wirth's locker. Shayla, sir." Top set the box on the desk for Zey to see clearly.
One look at what was written on it and Zey felt crushed. "If I die…" Zey whispered the words to himself. "I imagine there's something rather important in there, then."
Top swallowed harshly. "Didn't think it right to look inside, General."
Zey nodded faintly. "Quite right." He sat back in his chair and shook his head. "How sad. Do you think she even has a way of knowing what's happened to the poor boy?"
Top shook his head. "I don't know, sir. But—with your permission—I'd like to deliver this to her, for Wirth."
Zey sighed. "You two were in the same training company, weren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
He sighed again, and nodded. "Do you think you can find—" Of course he can find the address, you old fool, Zey thought angrily to himself, You send these men off on far worse every day. "Forgive me, Sergeant. You and your squad have a day's leave to do whatever you see fit."
Top stood and saluted quickly. "Thank you, sir. I speak for all my squad in saying it will be greatly appreciated."
Zey forced a smile. "You all deserve it. Dismissed." Zey watched as Top turned and walked briskly out of his office. There was something especially heartbreaking in hearing that one of his men not only died in action, but that he died leaving behind someone who cared about him beside the other clones he served with. It would be the second thing to keep him awake that night.
Shayla's apartment, Coruscant, 411 days after Geonosis
Top stood outside the door of the apartment for a little over twenty minutes. It felt like hours. He had no idea what to say to this woman. Would she even be there? Was this address really even her? He considered just handing her the box and leaving. That was really all that Wirth had asked for. But that was too cold, it was what a stranger would do. Wirth was a brother; if Top had any love for him at all, he had to do…he didn't know what, just more. When Top finally willed himself to press the door buzzer, it felt like hours again before he heard someone moving behind it.
The door slid open and Top was face to face with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She had curly black hair that went down to her shoulders, lightly tanned skin, and the most heart-stoppingly beautiful brown eyes. He didn't get a chance to look her over below the neck before a brilliant smile lit up her face and she jumped on him, pressing her lips to his in a kiss so passionate Top thought it belonged in a holovid.
Suddenly, he was ambushed by a wave of guilt. This was Wirth's girl, he shouldn't have let her do that. Then another wave of guilt, even stronger then the last, hit him when he realized that he actually liked it. A lot.
She pulled back, looking at him questioningly. Top realized he must not have been reciprocating. After a brief moment of scrutiny, she let out a mild gasp followed by nervous laughter.
"Oh, wow…I'm just really sorry about that." she said, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with Top in her moment of embarrassment. "I mean—wow! I thought you were Wirth."
"It's okay, ma'am." said Top, finding he defaulted back to the standard female form of address. "We're both clones, after all."
"Please, my name's Shayla. You're a friend of Wirth's, right?"
"Yes, ma'am—Shayla." said Top. "I knew Wirth since…well, forever."
She smiled happily at him. "Come in. Any friend of Wirth's is a friend of mine, and it's always nice to see a familiar face."
Top almost laughed. It was close to one of the old jokes the clones would use among each other. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. " Shayla, this isn't a social call, I'm afraid." Where'd I pick up that phrase? Top wondered.
Almost instantly, Shayla 's mood did a sudden turn around. Her bright smile transformed into a worrying frown. "Did something happen? Is Wirth okay? I got his message when I woke up. Everything's okay, right?"
Top took a deep breath and raised the plastoid box for her to take; he held it with the taped message facing down. Shayla bit her bottom lip at the sight of it, but didn't move to take it. She just looked at Top, pleading.
"Ma'am…I'm sorry. He's—" He never got the chance to finish. The second Top had said "sorry", Shayla had broke down. She fell to her knees right there in the doorway, sobbing against Top's leg. He didn't know what to do except help her up and walk her over to the couch.
Shayla just continued to cry, the occasional utterance of "It's not fair…" interspersed between the sobs.
Top didn't have the first clue of how to reassure or comfort grieving females so he just sat down next to her, and did what he always did with his brothers: he wrapped an arm around her and told her everything was going to be okay. She turned and buried her face in his chest, crying as he held her.
It was nearly an hour before Shayla had managed to finally stop crying. In truth, she wanted to cry more, to throw away her whole day in mourning for Wirth, but she made herself stop for Top. Shayla sat back, wiping her eyes and looking apologetically at Top's tear-soaked fatigues.
As perceptive as ever, Top forced a smile. "Don't worry about these. There are a million more where they came from."
Whether she got the joke or just did it to be polite, Shayla flashed Top a smile. "You know," she said, sniffling, "I never even asked you what your name was."
"My brothers call me Top."
"Brothers." Shayla repeated the word with more solemn respect then any word Top had ever heard spoken in his 11 years. "Brothers. Were you and Wirth brothers, Top?"
Now Top smiled again, though this time it came without any forcing. "We weren't in the same squad, but we sure were." That alone seemed to do wonders for her.
Shayla reached for the box Top had laid on the table and opened it. Inside were half a dozen pictures on flimsi: pictures of her, pictures of her and Wirth together, and—Top found these most intriguing of all—pictures of the two of them and a young girl who looked like a miniature version of Shayla.
Her daughter, Top thought. Wirth seemed to care about both Shayla and the daughter tremendously if the pictures were any indication. Top fought down a lump swelling in his throat.
There was a small holo-emitter in the box, too, the type you could record a message on and then send to someone. Shayla reached in and lifted it out of the box, pressing the activator key.
A tiny blue ghost of Wirth materialized in the palm of Shayla 's hand and they both went quiet.
"Hey, Shayl'ika. I guess that if you're watching this, then I'm probably gone. I want you to know that I fought my hardest to stay with you, though. I never thought of anything outside of the GAR before I met you, cyar'ika. I never wanted anything. The army and fighting was my entire world. But once I did, you became the only thing I cared about in this whole spinnin' galaxy. I fought every day to see you again. Every mission, I told myself, was a mission to keep you safe. When the war's over, I wanted to settle down with you and Kyerie. You two are just my everything."
Shayla started to cry again, but they were quiet tears. Tears of happiness, tears of reliving old memories, tears of love. Even as they rolled down her cheeks, Shayla smiled.
"You show this to her when you think she's old enough, let her know I loved—love her. And know that wherever I am now, I still love you, Shayl'ika. I always will. So, well, I guess that's all. I don't think this recording can hold any more love. Hehe…yeah, that was a pretty dumb one, huh?"
The tears came harder, but Shayla actually laughed. It was such a Wirth thing to say.
"I love you, cyar'ka. Goodbye." The recording stopped there, but Shayla replayed those last words again. "I love you, cyar'ika. Goodbye." She replayed it over and over until hot tears began to sting at Top's eyes and Shayla just had no more to cry.
"He was really something, huh?" she said, wiping her eyes for what felt like the millionth time.
Top blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat. "He sure was. One of a kind." Top was sure that if Wirth was there, he would've made some joke about how funny that was to say about a clone. That just made him smile, and it seemed to spread to Shayla. "Will you show this to her—your daughter, I mean?"
Shayla 's smiled vanished and a mask of sadness took its place again, but something about this was different, Top could tell. "She's gone."
Top felt his gut flip over. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?" He prayed she didn't mean gone, gone; he barely knew her but Top knew the poor woman didn't need that too.
"My ex-boyfriend…her father." She said "father" like a Corellian snake spat venom. "He took her right after Wirth left, said he won't have her living here with a 'filthy clone'."
Top felt his anger flare for at least the thousandth time since he'd woken up yesterday. "You should go to the police."
"I can't. He's CSF, he'll bury it. He'll bury me." Shayla said, on the verge of tears again. Then a thought came to her, Top could see it as though it were tangible. "I've been with Wirth for more then a month and in that time he's been more of a father to Kyerie then her real father ever was." Top was rather impressed by how different Shayla could make "father" sound. "I know what you do, you commandos. Can you help me out? Can you give me some rough justice?"
Top wanted to say yes immediately. He wanted to rally to the cause if only for Wirth's sake. It wouldn't be the first time he'd dealt justice with his own hands, not even the first time today. But CSF was government and that meant trouble like most people couldn't imagine, especially for a clone soldier. But Top also knew someone who wasn't most people.
Top took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry, I can't. But I know someone who can."
Apartment 11-38, Hansen district, Coruscant, 411 days after Geonosis
"All right, I'm coming." CSF officer Marc Botezin slammed the 'fresher door and stomped though his apartment. The door buzzer went off again. "Just a kriffin' second, I'm coming!" He walked up to the door and peeked out through the micro-viewport. "What the—?"
The door crashed in, coming off its track and down on top of Marc. He yelled in surprise as it knocked him off his feet, but he managed to toss it off of him without any strenuous effort. Then he yelled again, but not for the same reason.
Standing in the doorway with the sun to his back, was a bulky figure aiming a blaster down at his chest. The figure took a step forward and out of the bright afternoon sun and Marc got a good look at just what exactly had come crashing into his apartment.
Dressed in sand-gold armor from helmet to boot, was a fierce-looking Mandalorian.
"Marc Botezin?" came a voice from the terrifying helmet and its black, T-shaped visor.
Marc considered denying his name, but panic was in control of his mouth. "Y-y-yes, that's me." His eyes darted back and forth between the blaster in the Mandalorian's hand and that black T. "Who are you? What do you want?"
The Mandalorian reached down with his other hand and hauled Marc up by the front of his shirt. "Who I am, is a Mandalorian. What I want, is to have a little chat with you, son. We can make that happen, can't we?"
Marc nodded so quickly and with enough emphasis that it was almost comical, giving him the look of a novelty toy one often finds on the dashboard of speeders. The Mando man shoved him into the other room, blaster never wavering.
"You and I have a mutual acquaintance," said the Mandalorian. "Shayla Meini."
Marc's eyes went wide. "She hired you to kill me. I'm a CSF officer, you know. If you even think you'll be able to—"
Marc heard an annoyed sigh from the Mando's helmet. "I think I liked you better when you silent and scared." Marc took the hint. "Now, I'm here to have a talk about little Kyerie."
"This is ridiculous! She sent a kriffin' merc to my door over Kyerie? That girl is my daughter. She belongs to me. Do you have any kids?" He didn't wait for an answer. "If you do, then…" He trailed off as the Mandalorian holstered the blaster. "You understand, then?"
His answer came in the form of a powerful punch to the face that threw Marc backward onto his couch. He groaned as blood seeped from his busted lip.
The Mandalorian clenched and unclenched his gloved fist. "That's beskar impregnated fabric. The Force only knows how much that must hurt." Marc thought he almost sounded sympathetic, in a mocking sort of way. "Now I know I'm just an ignorant Mando thug and all, but the way I hear it, it's not polite to ask a question and not wait for a man to answer."
Marc mumbled something that sounded a lot like "You broke my jaw."
The Mandalorian didn't seem to care. "You asked if I had any kids; the answer's yes. One of my sons loves Kyerie and her mother very much. After speaking with Miss Meini, I find her pleasant enough myself. Real mandokarla, taking care of that girl alone, with her CSF father being an abusive deadbeat and all."
Marc opened his mouth to protest but a shooting pain in his jaw reduced his retort to a silent wince.
"You know, I'd say it's a good thing I might've broken your jaw, because I'm not looking for any argument." said the Mandalorian. "I'm taking Kyerie back to her mother."
"My kriffin' rear, you are!" Marc spat though the pain. "I told you, she belongs to me."
The Mandalorian grabbed him up again, then threw him onto the floor. Marc cried out as the Mando's boot pressed down on his stomach. "We Mando'ade take fatherhood very seriously, you know that? Don't let it surprise you too much. But we also have a saying: Aliit ori'shya tal'din. Family is more then blood. She may have some of your genes—the Manda help her—but that doesn't make you her father. She's leaving with me. Kyerie!"
A small girl with the same curly black hair and pretty brown eyes as her mother came wandering out of the bedroom at the call of her name. She looked as though she'd been sleeping. One look at the golden-armored Mandalorian, however, and she was wide-awake.
Seeing the fear worn plain on the little girl's face, the Mandalorian reached up and eased his helmet off. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you, little one?"
Marc took one look at the face of the Mandalorian now without his helmet and felt himself seethe with anger. "Stang it, I know you!" he hissed, "You're that kriffin' Mando who's always hanging around Captain Obrim: Skirata!"
Kal Skirata almost found it amusing that this di'kut sounded comforted upon learning who he was. He had never earned the type of infamous reputation that had attached itself to the likes of Jango Fett, but usually when someone found that it was Kal Skirata who had just kicked in their door, it wasn't comfort they were feeling.
Which reminded him… What a di'kutla thing to do, kicking the door in. His bad ankle was still screaming at him. But at least it had convinced Marc that he meant business rather quickly.
Skirata stepped off the man's stomach, hooked his helmet on the back of his belt, and knelt with his arms outstretched as though he were expecting Kyerie to come running into them. "Hey there, Kyerie. I'm your Uncle Kal."
"You leave her alone, you savage!"
Skirata swatted Marc, backhanding him in the mouth. It wasn't hard, but he grasped at his jaw as his eyes watered severely.
"Would you like to come with Uncle Kal and go see you're mom, Kyerie?" Kal asked in his most reassuringly paternal voice.
Kyerie's face lit up at the mention of her mother, and the little girl bolted into Skirata's arms, seemingly unaffected by the hard beskar plates on his chest. "Mommy, mommy!" she said excitedly. "I wanna see her, but he says I can't anymore." She pointed down at Marc, accusingly.
Kal smiled as he stood up, still holding her. "Who, your mean ol' dad?"
Little Kyerie fixed Skirata with a look. "My dad's not mean." Kal was about to say something when Kyerie said, "My dad wears armor and a helmet like yours…only his is grey. He should get yellow armor, like you. It's prettier."
Skirata felt his heart break. She thinks Wirth is her dad…
It wasn't until later that he found out Marc hadn't seen Kyerie since she was 6 months old, before he'd run of with a Twi'lek hooker. And it wasn't until later that he found out Marc used to physically—not just verbally, as Shayla said—but physically abuse Shayla. If he'd known then, Skirata was sure that he wouldn't have left the apartment while Marc still had a pulse.
Instead, he looked at Kyerie and said, "Let's go see your mom, ad'ika." He got to the door, then stopped and turned around. Marc was slowly getting up to his feet. "If you go anywhere near them again, I swear I'll cut your gett'se off." Skirata figured that Marc didn't know enough Mando'a to tell gettse from gihaal, but if the look on his face when Skirata brandished his prized three-sided knife was anything to go by, the di'kutla shabuir had a pretty good guess. "And if I hear anymore osik from you about clones, it'll be your tongue." With that, he turned and walked out the door, barely even limping today.
"Uncle Kal," Kyerie said, too sweetly for Skirata to explain he wasn't really her uncle, "what's a deeka?"
Epilogue
Arca Company Barracks parade ground, outside SO Brigade HQ, Coruscant,
411 days after Geonosis
Kal Skirata sat on one of the parade ground's benches with Alpha Squad's sergeant, Top, next to him. The bench was just where the two men had happened to end up after they walked back from Shayla's apartment. They watched the commandos of Kote Squad play limmie not far away.
"I talked to Jaller Obrim," Kal said casually, not looking away from the game, "when you ran off to the 'freshers on the way over."
"What'd he say?" asked Top. He didn't seem to be so interested in the game as Skirata, more like he had no where else to look while dealing with his thoughts.
"Botezin's fired. Said if he even saw him around again, he'd have more then a few words for him." Skirata leaned back. "Good man, Jaller."
"He sounds like it, Sarge." It had been years since Top had first called Skirata "Sarge". It had been quite some time since he'd even seen his old training sergeant, but he always called. Even when there was nothing much to say, Skirata called all his squads just to check on them, let them know he cared. Top relished the brief comm chats.
Skirata turned to Top and gave him a nudge on the shoulder. "Son, you seem to have a lot on your mind. Something you want to talk about?"
He didn't answer immediately, mostly because he didn't know exactly what it was that was bothering him. "I think it's Wirth, Sarge."
Skirata just said Ahh and nodded.
"When we were on Gelbarta and he was injured—dying, we both knew it—he just wanted to call Shayla." Top paused for a second, thinking. "I mean, he was bleeding out and I could tell he was in some real bad pain, Sarge. But just calling her…I guess, just knowing she was there…I don't know, it gave him some real comfort."
"A good woman can do that for you." said Skirata.
Top nodded quietly, then just sort of blurted out, "I think I want that, Sarge." When he looked over at Skirata, it wasn't surprise that Top saw as he expected, but sadness.
Skirata moved closer to Top and put an arm around him, giving him a paternal squeeze. "You deserve it, ad'ika." They all deserved it, and a lot more, but Kal wasn't about to go on about all the osik dealt to clones when Top was already feeling neck deep in it. "You'll get it some day."
"Not Coots." said Top, feeling the grief sneaking up on him. "Not Coots, not Gill, not Mal, not Jai—and what about Diver's old squad? Or Breeze's?" Sadness, anger—a whole mix of things Top didn't even have a name for, welled up inside. "What do they get? Nothing. All they had were their brothers, their brothers and you, Sarge."
Skirata slid back on the bench and turned so he could look straight at Top. "Sometimes that's enough. It was for me. You boys are all I have, my commandos and the Nulls."
Top was quiet for a minute, letting it all sink in. "The Null ARCs…they call you Kal'buir."
"They do." said Kal, "It means—"
"I know. I was wondering…" Oh, don't be stupid, thought Top. "Nevermind."
Skirata fixed him with that look Top knew from way back on Kamino, the one that made it seem the old Mandalorian could read his mind. "What is it, son?"
Top struggled with the words. "Do you…would you mind…"
Skirata smiled and hugged Top before getting up. "Not at all. Now, since I hear you're being deployed with General Shola tomorrow, why don't we grab the rest of your squad and go do something with the day."
Now Top smiled too, and stood up next to him.
"Thanks, Kal'buir."