Here is the next installment of Across the Universe. Hope you enjoy! Reviews are always welcomed! =)
Four months into the Battle of Genosis…
"Ordo! Psst Ordo," Merrel and his brother Ordo had ducked into a cave away from enemy fire to catch their breath briefly and to evaluate their situation. Ordo peered around the cave wall and almost had his head blown off from cross fire. Quickly retreating further into the cave, both Nulls examined what they had left for firepower.
The battle had been brutal; many lives lost both on the Separatist and Republic sides. Even the Jedi with their Force powers took on heavy causalities. Not too long into the fighting Ordo stopped counting the dead and he tried to tune out the sounds of his fallen comrades. The Null boys may have been renowned for being crazy and tough but that didn't mean the cry of war and agony didn't get to their psyche any less.
"Ordo!" Mereel persisted.
"What!" Ordo snapped.
"Today is Han's birthday," Mereel said. "Think that the little vod will forgive us for not wishing him a happy birthday?"
In the last two years, the Nulls had surprised their adoptive brother and even surprised Skirata by their sentimentality. Being on Kamino and having a very short if not non-existent supply of treats, they got creative and gave Han presents that consisted of clone armor "generously donated" by the GAR so that Han could start to customize his own set of protective covering. He was more than thrilled when his older brothers handed him the gifts.
"He's going to have to," Ordo, ever practical sighed. He would never admit it openly, but he missed his little brother and sergeant. Though built and bred for battle, even the Nulls grew weary of the blood bath. When he had times like this to stop and catch his breath, Ordo thought about Han and Skirata. Skirata's words of wisdom would come into his mind which helped him get through the next round of fighting. Head up, eyes forward and ears open. Get the job done right the first time and you don't have to go back and fix it. There would be no fixing this time. Genosis was just the start, they all knew it.
Looking at their rifles and ammunition, Mereel and Ordo were going to have to rendezvous with their brothers soon.
"I know exactly what I would have given him," Mereel continued with the birthday subject. Ordo wished his brother would drop it. Talking about home always was hard since future was always uncertain for clones.
"What?" Ordo finally humored Mereel and answered as they gathered up their weapons and readied to leave the cave.
Mereel pulled out from behind him a droid head. Ordo cocked his head questionably. "What the…?"
Mereel bobbed the droid's headed up and down making the mouth piece flap open and close. "A puppet!"
"Di'kut," Ordo mumbled and shook his head.
Kal Skirata's contract with the Cuy'val Dar had ended with the start of the Battle of Genosis. With the ties he had made Skirata was able to get updates sporadically of how the troops were fairing. No word on his Null boys but with the latest update it sounded as if the battle had been all but won and soon the troops would either return back to Kamino or sent out for further deployment, with any hope.
The young Corellian boy Skirata had found a little more than two years ago named Han Solo was starting to grow like a hiakk tree. Now at nine years old, his limbs long and still gangly Han still had many years to grow into them. He was fit, healthy and more muscled than most boys his age. He's much better than when we found him, Skirata thought as the boy quickly approached him. Finding his way and place among his new family, Han had insisted that he wanted his own set of individual armor much like his adoptive father's. While Mando armor did not exist on Coruscant or Kamino, Han with the help of the Nulls, had been creative and collected different colors and plates that represented the many ranks of his brethren. He had also traced a Wookiee silhouette on the chest piece in memory of his beloved friend who had cared for him when he was an orphan on the streets of Corellia.
"Han," Skirata called to the young boy. Without pressing matters, soldiers to train or bounties to be brought in the older Mandalorian took the opportunity to take Han to Mandalore specifically Keldabe, to let the child learn from real Mandalorian roots. To become a real Mando one needed to embrace the culture. While the boy understood the importance of watching his brothers' backs, Skirata took the time in explaining to Han the importance of a Mando clan or aliit. It wasn't just on the battle field where family and protecting mattered.
Both in awe and a little bit nervous of meeting such dangerous and robust people, Han hoped that he measured up to his buir's expectations. Taking an instant liking to the forest-fort like city, Han easily found himself fitting in with the people. When one of the Mandos would shout a crude comment at him or Skirata, Han would come back with a quick and witty retort, sometimes Skirata having to usher Han along before a scene would break out.
"Solo here," Skirata smirked under his own helmet. Growing up around adults and kids who aged twice as fast as him, Han desperately tried to sound like an adult himself.
"Where are you lad?"
"Cantina Buir, Parja is showing me some really cool knife handling techniques." Parja Bralor was the niece of Rav Bralor, another member of the Cuy'val Dar. Like Rav, Parja was strong, lethal, and cunning and had taken a shining to Han. Skirata made his way over to the cantina where Han clad in his very colorful armor was sitting on a bar stool attempting a very dangerous looking knife trick.
Skirata stood back and watched as Parja positioned the knife on the tip of Han's finger and then cued him to flip it. It twirled in the air and instead of catching the butt, the knife sliced right through Han's glove and right through the flesh.
"Shavit! Keth! Haar'chak!" An impressive array of curse words sprayed out of Han's mouth.
"That's quite a vocabulary you have there, Solo," Parja laughed. "Guess you aren't ready for that trick just yet," she wiped the blood off the blade and pocketed it. Skirata by this time had made it to Han's side and taken a hold of his hand.
"Nothing that bacta and a few stitches won't fix. Maybe that'll teach you to play stupid games," he eyed Parja with a frown.
"We were just having fun," Han mumbled.
"I'll forgive you both since it's your birthday and you get to do one stupid thing today. Just remember you already used it up." Skirata had wrapped Han's hand up with a cloth and released his hand.
"That's right!" Parja grinned. "To think I almost forgot, here you go my little mando'a," Parja unbuckled the small knife pouch that Han had just been handling and gave it to him.
"Really? Thanks Parja!" Han exclaimed as he examined the pouch and took the knife back out.
Parja slapped Han's back and laughed. "Come by my place later, I'll show you and your old man how to handle it properly."
"Papa Kal," Han started slowly as they made their way down the busy Keldabe streets. Twice a week the city held "Market Day" which attracted merchants, heavy drinkers and shoppers. Food stalls along with other goods and services lined the streets.
Han rarely called Skirata "Papa" especially since the departure of the Nulls. Being that it was the boy's birthday and his brother's not being around it probably had something to do with that.
"Yes Han," he answered.
Han toyed with the wrap on his hand. Some of the blood had soaked through and would need to be changed out later.
"You haven't heard from them today have you?" Skirata wasn't wrong in his assumption.
"No Han," the older Mando wasn't going to lie for the child. He was going to have to learn the realities of life and war sooner than later. The realization that his brothers may not come back were more true than false.
"Do you think they'll come back soon?" Han shifted his helmet to his other hand and swiped a frustrated hand through his unruly hair. "It's just been so long since we've seen them, anything could have happened?" Suddenly the young boy looked up to Skirata with terrified eyes.
"What if they had been killed and no one told us? Or they're lying out on the battlefield injured and no one is going to help them?" Han started to work himself up into a fit, his breath started to come in short pants and his voice becoming shrill. Skirata had concluded that coming Han was afraid of being abandoned as he had on Coreilla which was understandable. He now had a family and it wasn't something he wanted to loose.
Since the start of Genosis Han would have nightmares, waking up at night screaming at his brothers' death. Skirata would try and get Han to talk about them, but Han would just sink more into himself. He learned to let the boy come to him in his times of need which he did.
"Udesii Han," Skirata pulled Han off to the side away from the masses in the streets. Getting down on one knee so that he could be eye level which was no easy feat since his knees where just about shot from past injuries, he made Han look at him.
"I know it's not easy for you to accept that your brothers along with all the other soldiers may not return not just from this mission, but from any mission. Han, we learn to embrace death with honor and pride. Be honored that you know them and have pride that they fight for your freedom."
"I am Papa Kal, but I still miss them," Han sniffled and wiped his nose with his plated arm.
"I do too son, but they are strong. Besides only the stupidest of or'dinii would mess with those crazy Nulls," Skirata grinned at Han who also smiled. "Come on boy, let's get out of this rut and celebrate your day fittingly."
Filling up on an assortment of foods, Han didn't think he could get one more thing past his mouth. Making their way just past the outskirts of the city, Skirata and Han made their way to Parja's home so that she could show Han about the knife given to him earlier.
Before completely leaving, Skirata stopped when a fellow denizen called out to him and started to discuss something that Han was half paying attention to until a flash behind some brush and trees caught his eye. Looking at Kal to see if he had noticed which he hadn't, Han slipped away and decided to check out the distraction.
Making his way through the bushes as carefully as he could, Han caught better site of what he was following. It looked to be a red armored plate. Hiding behind a large tree, he came to an abrupt stop. In front of Han was a group of crude looking Mandos. Han had never seen these kinds of warriors before. Their armor was a dull grey and blue, obviously worn and seen many scuffs by the dents and scrapes, these Mandos were tall, and opposing. There were only four of them and each had some sort of trophy garment that Han noticed.
One seemed to have a pelt from some kind of beast across his breast plate and the horns attached to his helmet, another with an array of daggers across his belt line. Two others who were talking to each other using a varied of expressions with their hands, one very crude Han had picked up instantly, had necklaces of fingers bones laced around their necks.
Han wanted to know what they were talking about and the spot he was in wasn't giving him that option. As he was about to take a step forward and hard hand slapped him on the shoulder bringing him to a halt. Jerking around, Han came face to face with a familiar mask. Ah fierfek! Han cursed to himself. It was none other than Dred Priest, the last person Han ever wanted to run into.
His blood-red armor fit well with his murderous personality. Priest's T-shape visor glared menacing down at Han but Han held his fear in check.
"Ah what do we have here?" The ex-sergeant bent closer to the boy. Han tried to wrestle out of Priest's grip but his gloved fingers only curled tighter around his own plated shoulder. "You know, spying isn't very nice."
"Neither is beating up on little kids," Han retorted. "Don't you remember the last time you messed with me Priest! You got your shebs handed to you!"
Priest only snorted and shoved Han, causing him to fall to the ground. "I see that your buir," Priest practically spat out the word, "hasn't taught you to watch your back and keep your hands out of the cookie jar. Haven't you heard that curiosity kills the cat?"
"If you do anything to me, Kal'buir will hunt you down!" Han got back onto his feet and took up a defensive pose.
Priest walked up to the boy and loomed over him, making Han crank his neck upward at the taller man. "I'm looking forward to it boy." He took ahold of a struggling Han and propelled him toward the four Mandos Han had been watching earlier.
Where did that boy run off to? Skirata growled to himself. Normally he wouldn't have minded Han venturing by himself as he had done it plenty of times on other planets, but something on the back of Skirata's neck started to tingle and he always trusted his instincts. Not to mention that Han was very good at letting Skirata know where he wandered off to.
A small movement towards his left caught his attention and Skirata assed the surroundings. Thick bushes and trees, Skirata pulled out his verpine shatter gun readying as he stepped into the thicket.
No more than sixty feet into the brush, Skirata found his targets. He could feel his blood boil as he recognized the man he beat up months ago for going after Han and making the clone cadets fight against each other. The other four he recognized as Death Watch members. They were in a small circle surrounding something.
Death Watch was infamously known by all Mandalorians as a bunch of crude, ruthless bandits who wanted to return all back to their ancient savage roots. They accounted for many of the terrorist bombings and plots against Duchess Satine. While skilled warriors, they were ill disciplined and in constant fighting.
Skirata inched closer weapon charged and ready for any slightest of movement. He then noticed what they were encircling. Han was in the middle being pushed around. The boy finally having enough of being pushed kicked out successfully hitting one of them in the knee joint. All but the one who was kicked laughed. Han was grabbed roughly by the collar of his armor and shoved to the ground, his helmet rolling away a few yards from him.
"You don't scare me!" Skirata heard Han yell and whip out his small knife that Parja had given him just hours before. More laughs from the group.
"No, how 'bout now?" Priest aimed his blaster right at Han. Han this time did not have a retort, raised his hands and his knife fell to the ground.
Skirata maneuvered himself so he was directly behind Priest. He may not be able to take out all four of them, but he would finally be able to rid the galaxy of this vermin and Han wouldn't have to be tormented by him any longer.
"If you want your brains being picked up by a pack of strills, pull the trigger. Otherwise drop the gun," Skirata voice was dark and threatening. Priest tensed but did not drop the gun. The four Death Watch members instantly trained their guns on Skirata and Priest.
Priest let out a cynical chuckle. "Kal Skirata, so nice meeting you here. We were just having a pleasant conversation with young Solo."
"I can see," glancing around the man, Skirata gestured at Han, "causing trouble again son?"
"Always Buir. Nothing I can't handle though," Han picked up his helmet and set it back in place.
"I told you Priest the next time I saw you, you were a dead man," Skirata shoved his rifle into Priest's back.
"Now Kal, you don't think for one minute that you can kill all of us do you?"
"No. Just you Priest." The rifle clicked and warmed up. Priest shouted to the commando that was closest to Han and he made a grab for the boy but Han was quicker. All of his training he had learned so far from Skirata kicked in. Han may have been smaller than and not as strong as these commandos, but he was quicker and his height helped him by diving in between the legs of his opponent. He then kicked him in the butt causing the commando to lose his balance and crash into his comrade.
Priest ducked away but Skirata took the opportunity to shoot at the commando that had the daggers around his waist, hitting him square in the chest. The verpine shatter gun was strong enough to create a large sizzling hole though the breast plates dead center.
Han grabbed a few of the daggers and threw them at the next commando who charged at Skirata, hitting him in the legs. The man went down immediately with a scream of pain.
Skirata got off a few more shots but Priest along with the two other commandos had taken off.
"Cowards," Skirata mumbled. He lowered his gun and walked toward Han who stood stunned at what had just transpired. The man who Han had thrown the daggers at withered on the ground, blood leaking from his pants. Han hit an artery unknowingly. It wouldn't be long until this man bled to death.
"Han," Skirata called to him. Han didn't answer and continued to stare at the bleeding commando. Han had not faced death yet it was always a shock coming face to face with it no matter how many times death knocked at your door.
"Han," Skirata said again. Finally the boy slowly turned to the voice that was calling him. Unlatching his helmet he let it fall once again to the ground. His face was a bit pale but his hazel eyes were now almost as dark as his fellow clone brothers, dilated and half crazed.
"I did that," Han whispered.
"You did well son," Skirata picked up Han's helmet and started to guide Han out of the brush.
Han stopped and looked up to Skirata, turned around and ran back to the commando who was now panting for a breath. He took a good look at the commando and then reached for the daggers that were logged into his leg.
Before pulling it out Han leaned down and whispered so that the dying commando could hear him, "Ne shab'rud'ni." With that he yanked out the dagger, flesh tearing with it. The commando howled in agony as Han trotted back to Skirata.
As Han tucked the dagger into his knife pouch, curiosity got the better of Skirata. "What did you tell him?"
"I told him not to ever mess with me." Skirata proudly grinned from under his helmet.
