There is no word for 'hero' I: Blind in the force

by HeavenONFire

In the war that shaped the galaxy Lieutenant Mereel travels to a planet in the Mid Rim. Never would he have guessed that his mission on this planet would shape him for the future. For the first time Mereel would be confronted with the difference of doing his job and doing what is right. Would love overpower his loyalty? Would he survive? MereelXOC; Slash; EU; Plot; Violence and Sex

11. The Taste of Failure

There is no word for 'Hero' I: Blind in the Force

11.

The taste of failure

Count Memento Acrimonia of Seegeto has been successfully captured. The prisoner refused to cooperate and is being held in solitary confinement. Acrimonia suffered heavy injuries during his escape from Coruscant and is now under republic medical attentions.

The locations and identities of his contacts on Coruscant remain unknown.

Progress report from Captain Maze, adjutant of Jedi-Master Arligan Zey.

Lower Corridors, Breakwater. Four Hours after the assault on Khunalis Prime.

"Damn, this is by far the most powerful Jedi I've ever seen!" The explosive-expert of the Delta Squad named Scorch sighed as he watched their sniper apply first aid to the fallen warrior.

"Yeah, he was a hard one." Ordo agreed and removed his helmet to massage his neck. On the skin just above his under-suit Ordo felt a big bruise in the making. If he hadn't stabbed the Mando, risking that man's death though Mereel begged him not to, he might have been choked to death himself. Or worse, compromised Mereel's secret identity.

"Why is Sev saving him again?" Scorch asked no one in particular.

"Because Mereel wants him alive." Ordo said and made clear that he wasn't up to a discussion.

"So who is he, Captain?" Scorch asked again and Ordo saw Boss rolling his eyes. "What is a Mando or Jedi or whatever he is doing here anyway?"

"Mereel has his reasons." Ordo replied. He himself considered his man fascinating and terrifying. He knew how hard a Mando could be, but this man was beyond all imaginations. This unique mixture of Mandalorian and Jedi was extraordinary. He cut down half of Ordo's company singlehandedly.

"Fill him up with narcotics!" Ordo commanded. "I don't want him to wake up and make any trouble."

He then dispatched the Deltas to look after their most valuable prisoner, as those four could use some bacta themselves. Making sure his prized prisoner was taken care of, Ordo led the rest of his troops deeper into the castle after leaving a few men to look after the wounded. The battle wasn't won yet. It would only be over when they arrested the King.

As he was halfway to the throne room, Ordo thought that it was time to catch up with A'den. With a flinch of his eye, Ordo opened the comm-channel to his brother. The HUD-icon of A'den was filled with chaos. A'den was running, apparently towards the castle gate. Occasionally, the Sergeant would turn and fire a few shots and soon the gate came into view. Or at least where the gate once was.

"A'den, what's your progress?" Ordo asked with his military voice. Emotionless and reduced to the most important information.

"Gett's taking the City! I'm heading for the palest. Coming through the front gate." His brother said guns blazing. "Through the big hole in the wall to be precise."

"And the Jedi? The Rodian?"

"Dead." A'den reported. "Headed for the gate alone. Couldn't wait for reinforcement. Di'kut!"

Not good! How this bunch of untrained civilian managed to bring down a Jedi was a myth to Ordo. He wasn't an admirer of their lot, but he respected them for their skills. He would think about it later.

"Padawan dead either," Ordo said while he pressed through the corridors. "Heavy casualties. Lost half of my men. We are heading for the command centre, now. We rendezvous there."

"And Mer'ika?"

"He's safe. Unconscious and pretty devastated. But safe."

"And Delta? Any loss there?"

"Negative. They are securing a highly dangerous prisoner."

"Since when do you make prisoners?" A'den wondered, half yelling over the sound of battle outside. "Anyway, see you inside. Ko'yacyi, ner'vod."

In A'den's icon, Ordo followed his brother towards the blown gate of the Breakwater. Everywhere, black scorch marks dominated the scene. As A'den looked around, Ordo saw the dead bodies of the Khunali guards. Somehow it was a lot harder seeing into their lifeless eyes than Ordo had thought. Then, familiar bodies appeared in A'den and Ordo's view. Clone bodies. Motionless on the floor with the long, black scars of a lightsaber on their armour.

Ordo heard his brother curse and followed his view. In the hall right behind the gate-frame, Ordo's eyes met the disembodies head of the leading Jedi-Knight.

"Shab!" A'den sighed. "Look out, we have a saber-jockey here."

"We had one down in the tunnels either. He's dealt with." Ordo reported back. "But keep your eyes open for the other one."

"Who do you think they are?" A'den asked on the comm.

For a moment, Ordo though about the Mando-Jedi down in the tunnels. But that must have been an exception. Ordo had never encountered someone like that. It was highly doubtful that he would meet two of them today.

"Don't know," he said truthfully. "But whoever he is, he's dangerous. And it's possible that the King hired mercs as bodyguards."

"All right." A'den nodded and ended the transmission.

Now was for Ordo to focus on his own task. The corridors were nearly abandoned. Thanks to Mereel's plans, the ARC-Captain was able to find the shortest route to the throne room. As he finally reached the side-gate, only ten guards stood there with their blasters aiming at him.

Ten were not even a challenge.

"Fire!" Ordo commanded and blue energy filled the corridor. When the fire ceased and the smoke cleared, only corpses remained in front of the door.

"They are just not soldiers." Ordo sighed to himself and headed for the console, careful not to step on any bodies. With the code Mereel gave him, Ordo didn't even need to slice the door. Again, he admired his brother's skill as an undercover agent.

Behind the golden door was the most luxurious room Ordo had ever laid eyes on. It looked like the senate building from the inside, only more luxurious. Everywhere, gold and red dominated the hall. Huge curtains hung from the ceiling and showed what Ordo assumed was the crest of the royal family.

Within one fast glance, Ordo registered that the security level here was at a minimum. Only a few guards were here. The others who stayed to command the battle outside were gathered in the middle of the room around a projection-table. Though all looked quite respectable in their fancy uniforms, their tensions were obvious.

As they realized what had just happened, every single being in this room was looking into the barrel of a clone-trooper. Ordo granted the huge room another careful glance while his soldiers put binders on the prisoners. His eyes stopped at the gigantic, golden throne Mereel had described to him. When Mereel did that, Ordo didn't believe it. He was so certain that his brother was exaggerating. But he was wrong. The view of such a sight let him speechless. Now, that he stood in front of the symbol of power, he could indeed feel a sense of might that radiated from it. With caution, Ordo approached it as if the total of all this glowing gold could burn him. He wondered how anybody could waste so much precious metal only to forge a giant chair.

A minute later, Ordo felt A'den coming up behind him. According to his brother's slightly tilted head, A'den was thinking exactly the same.

"Any sign of the king?" the Sergeant asked.

"No. I just received word that the king is not in his chambers." Ordo replied. He was listening to the reports of his troopers on the other ear. Due to his highly advanced intelligence and his ability to multi-tasking, operation like this became nearly easy. Ordo turned to face the prisoners.

"Where is the King?" He asked and rose himself to his full height to a man who had passed his best years.

The prisoner appeared proud and refused to be touched by the clones. He also raised himself and looked into Ordo's visor as if he knew where the clone's eyes were.

"You will not get anything out of me, Sir." The noble answered.

"We'll see about that." Ordo replied calmly. He knew a resistant prisoner when he saw one. With another blink of his eye, Ordo switched to internal comm. "Take him away. If he doesn't start any trouble, leave him alone. For now."

The old man didn't struggle when the troopers came to escort him away. The aristocrat walked out of the room up straight and with his head high. Ordo had to admit that this man was at least respectable. After his lead, many other nobles seemed to regain their composure. They surrendered with honour.

When the nobles were removed, only a few guard and officers were still around, looking very frightened. One man, still wearing his helmet of a comm-officer huddled in the corner, trembling so hard as if he expected to be executed any minute.

"Where is the King?" Ordo repeated the question and stepped up to the shaking comm-officer. A'den placed himself right next to Ordo and the Captain knew how intimidating they were.

"He... he..." the comm-officer stammered. "He... went to... to the tunnels! He... did... didn't come back... yet."

"How many troops were with him?" Ordo asked again, still without any emotion and through his voice-changer, he sounded more than ever like a droid.

If the king really went down to the tunnels, he must have met him on his way up. Ordo had left a squadron at the tunnel's end to prevent anyone from fleeing. So the King must still be here somewhere.

"No... no troops!" The officer stammered again and turned even paler. "On... only a slave, Sir. Please! Please, don't kill me! I.. I have family!" The man begged with broken voice.

"Take him away!" Ordo commanded.

"Pathetic." A'den chuckled next to him.

"The King slipped through my fingers!" Ordo shouted angrily. He couldn't bear the taste of failure. After all these months where Mereel had risked his life and at the cost of half his company, the King still managed to escape. "Search for the King! Tell Commander Gett that the King might have escaped the castle. He must not leave the planet! I can't believe it, I missed the King!"

"Calm down, Or'ika." A'den said next to him, padding him on the shoulder. Ordo knew his brother well enough to understand, that A'den knew exactly how he felt right now. "Let's go check on Mereel. Maybe he knows more."

Ordo snorted but didn't object.

Mereel was conscious again as the two Null-ARCs arrived at the med-bay. His brother sat on the bed quietly and watched the medical droid put new bandages on his arm. Instantly, Ordo felt guilty. It was his bolt that injured Mereel. But he was also angry at Mereel for running into his barrel so rashly and also with himself that he didn't recognize his brother fast enough. With the instinct of a soldier, Mereel looked up and smiled, apparently aware of Ordo's thought. Or he just knew Ordo too well.

"Wow, he put on some weight," A'den said faintly next to Ordo and watched Mereel's muscles closely.

Mereel indeed got even broader and buffer than before. His skin was darker than before and his hair way too long. His posture had shifted from stiff standing soldier to a rather relaxed nobleman. But something else changed, too. Something that wasn't quite as obvious as Mereel'S physical changes. Something on the inside. Ordo couldn't tell exactly what, but somehow Mereel looked older. Not because he had nearly aged for a whole year during his months here. It was as if Mereel had grown up.

"My brothers!" Mereel breathed, stretching his arms aside to embrace them.

For one moment, Ordo didn't let go. He missed his beloved brother so much, he nearly gone mad. Ordo didn't see his brothers very often, because usually they were scattered across the galaxy. But not a single message in months while they had to fear the worst was even too much for the stone-hearted Captain.

"Never again!" Ordo whispered, face buried in Mereel's shoulder. "Never again! I nearly died of worry!"

"Yeah, me too." Mereel nodded and snivelled slightly. "A'den, come here!"

"You look like the backside of a bantha!" A'den chuckled and closed Mereel in a firm embrace. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." Mereel grinned, running his fingers through his long hair. "Ah, I need a haircut. How's the situation outside?"

"The City has fallen." A'den reported. "Small fightings are still going on, though. Might take a few days to secure the whole perimeter. But good work here. Their will is scattered when the shield went down. You should have seen how fast their fleet got vaporized!"

Mereel watched their reflections in the mirror on the wall while he started brushing his shoulder-long hair. He winked and gave them a crooked grin. "Oops, I wonder how that happened."

"Because of your intels." Ordo said, giving Mereel the answer he sought. "I'll never understand how you slice just about everything."

"Oh, I just don't like closed doors." Mereel replied with a wink at A'den.

Ordo thought that there was something he might be missing. But then he remembered the person Mereel mentioned in their last conversation.

"You mentioned an acquaintance, ner'vod." He said carefully. A'den smirked at Mereel and lifted his eye-browns up and down, hinting Mereel that they wouldn't let go until he told them every little detail about it. Until now, none of the Null-ARCs had ever had a relationship, as the civilian call it. That was a piece of civil life even Ordo was interested in. He nudged Mereel in the side and grinned. "So, where is she? Are we going to meet her now, or what?"

For a second, Mereel's eyes went dusty and a nearly invisible smile appeared at his mouth-corner. But then he turned around with his all-fine mask Ordo knew too well.

"A gentleman does not kiss and tell." His brother proclaimed.

"Oh, Look." A'den sighed and nudged Ordo in the side. "He's gone native. Now, shut up and tell us everything."

"Nope." Mereel grinned.

"Come on, that's not fair!" A'den complained. "I would have told you everything if that happened to me!"

Mereel only continued shaking his head and grinned falsely. Ordo disliked the idea of his brothers keeping secrets from each other. They had never done that and they shouldn't start now. On the inside, Ordo hoped that this mission didn't change Mereel and that all these months didn't distant them from each other.

"Mereel, we don't keep secrets from each other," Ordo said seriously, reminding Mereel what made them so special. "I'm not interested in what you do behind closed door, but at least tell us about her."

"Hey, speak for yourself!" A'den stepped in. "I want to know everything! Is she military? Is she tough? Or is she just pretty? A noble woman maybe?"

"There is no she!" Mereel finally gave in. He frowned a little and returned to his hairdo. "Don't mind what I said, it's all gone."

"What happened?" A'den asked immediately. He looked disappointed and shook Mereel for more information. "Hey, don't give me the silent treatment! Something went wrong! Tell me what happened!"

Mereel only sighed and shrugged. "Everything. The court, the King, the war." He brushed through his long hair with his fingers and looked himself in the mirror. "Just everything."

"Is she still alive? Did you get her out?" Ordo asked carefully. He had the feeling that Mereel was devastated about the failure of his first relationship.

"There is no she." Mereel repeated and started to remove the rest of his cloth.

"But you mentioned a woman." Ordo persisted.

"Or is there a he?" A'den asked. "There is, isn't it? You did it! You really did it?"

Ordo felt a sudden surge of excitement as he heard A'den's words. Although he had never felt the urge to be close to someone in a romantic way, he knew that all his brothers had hoped for it. For himself, he mostly stuck on Coruscant. He could do it anytime he wanted to. But as for his brothers who were running across the galaxy, the world looked entirely different.

So this was the difference he had spotted in Mereel earlier. Using Kal'buir's words, Mereel had become a man.

"Is it true?" Ordo asked, still not convinced. He couldn't deny that he felt just a little betrayed. But why? "You got involved with someone?"

"Why does it sound like an accusation when you say it?" Mereel wondered out loud, but he still avoided Ordo's gaze.

In Ordo's eyes, Mereel seemed to be ashamed of this aspect of his change. For a moment, Ordo couldn't understand why. It was an occasion for a celebration. Mereel finally found someone.

But then Ordo remembered what Mereel told him a day ago: that his brother was involved with the King and several nobles here. If Mereel wanted it that way Ordo didn't know. But if he analysed Mereel's reaction right now, the answer wasn't far away.

It was disgusting. Ordo felt anger return to his guts, but this time he wasn't angry with Mereel. He hated the nobles here for using his brother. He suddenly hated the king, although he had never seen that man before. Ordo felt terrible for accusing his brother for not telling. It was a heavy burden and obviously Mereel didn't want to share.

Caught by a sudden urge, Ordo abruptly closed Mereel in his arms as tightly as he could. In the inside, Ordo was screaming for justice. Mereel always had been the worst treated one. Even on Kamino, the scientists had extra interest in Mereel. They did experiments on Mereel they never tried on another Null. Until now, Mereel still didn't like talking about it.

Ordo always thought that the cheerful Mereel was a mask he wore to hide what was hurting underneath.

"I'm so sorry," Ordo whispered. "I shouldn't have said that. I know it wasn't easy for you."

"What are you talking about?" Mereel was visibly surprised by Ordo's sudden tenderness. He still padded Ordo' back, though.

"You told me about the King. That he used you for..." Ordo couldn't continue. The thought was too ugly and too painful. He really didn't want to reopen Mereel's wound. His beloved brother already looked hunted.

"It's okay." Mereel whispered and escaped Ordo's embrace. "I can deal with it."

"Did I miss something?" A'den interrupted. "Don't want to stop your hugging, but someone tell me what's going on, please?"

"Details," Mereel said. "Unpleasant details."

"He's been sharing bed with the King." Ordo told A'den. "I swear, this shabuir will wish he'd never been born when I'm finished with him!"

A'den was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry." he whispered then. "I didn't know. But I will make him pay."

"So you've got him?" Mereel sighed, turning away from them.

Ordo had an uneasy feeling, now. Ever since Mereel rejoined them, he was acting odd. Either Mereel was still in shock or someone replaced his brother with an imposter. Or maybe, Mereel just needed more time to regain his certainty. And maybe he would be able to talk about it one day. Until then, Ordo would wait patiently and make sure he was there for his brother.

"No," The Captain finally admitted. "The King escaped."

Mereel froze. He was half dressed in his jumpsuit now and looked from Ordo to A'den, and then back again. He blinked as if he didn't understand what Ordo had just said.

"Escaped?" he gasped eventually. "How was that possible? We had him cornered and the whole perimeter was secure!"

Ordo again felt terrible for letting his brother down. Mereel was right, it was almost impossible. But still the vicious king succeeded and Ordo failed. But not for long. He would correct this mistake and when he found the King, he would make the ruler pay for every crime he had done to Mereel.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault." Mereel said reassuringly as he noticed Ordo's guilt. "The King is a very skilled man and he knows this castle by heart. Just tell me how he managed that."

"He was with a slave. The officer in the command centre told me, he fled down to the tunnels. I didn't see him on my way up, nor did one of my men. Shab! I was so certain we had him!" Ordo thought sharply. With the King on the run, the local rebellion would have a symbol to follow. If the Republic wanted to demoralise their enemy, they must find the King fast. "Maybe that bastard is still in the castle somewhere."

Mereel closed his eyes and frowned deeply. He turned his face away from them, but Ordo believed that he saw tears in the corner of Mereel's eyes. His brother went to put on his armour in silence. Ordo didn't know what he said wrong, but it certainly hurt Mereel.

When he looked at A'den, his brother only shrugged. When Ordo opened his mouth to say something, A'den nudged him in the side to shut him up.

"I can see you in the mirror, you know?" Mereel said with his normal voice again.

A'den sighed.

"Who's that Mando-Jedi anyway?" Ordo asked instead, hoping to change the subject.

"Who?" A'den wondered.

"My prisoner." Ordo turned to look at Mereel. "The one in black beskar'gam."

"Hey, you never mentioned a Mando!" A'den shouted, obviously offended that Ordo didn't tell him about such an interesting detail.

"Yeah, he jumped in front of Mer'ika when Scorch's det exploded. Took the damage for Mer'ika." Ordo explained to A'den. "Interesting guy. If he's not on the wrong side, I would like him. Unfortunately, he cut down half of my company singlehandedly, which means I have to kill him."

"And what's so Jedi about him?" A'den didn't miss anything.

"He was using two lightsabers and the Force." Ordo added. "Oh, and he killed the Padawan, too."

"Oh, that's interesting."

Ordo really was eager to chat with this one. If he really was only a paid merc, Ordo might convince him to join their side, though only a few Mandos were willing to aid the Republic. But considering his fighting skills, that man wasn't a mere Mandalorian. In possession of two lightsabers and capable of using the Force, this man was his first choice of spec op and the worst enemy at the same time.

"So, who was he?" Ordo asked his freshly armoured brother again. With his long hair hanging to his shoulders, Mereel looked very bizarre. "He seemed to care about you a lot."

Mereel bit his lower lip and slowly raised his gaze. In his eyes, Ordo saw an expression filled with sadness Mereel would not express with words. Then, his brother whispered with trembling voice.

"Ordo, he is the King."

Dungeons. Breakwater. 12 hours after the attack of the clones. 259 Days ABG.

When Constanz regained his consciousness, he was immediately grateful for the pain in his body. It was an obvious sign that he was still alive. The not so good thing was that he was chained up in the middle of a prison cell.

Blasted Chains! Why did I have them installed? He cursed.

His current situation reminded him too much of the unhappy memory of his first imprisonment almost ten years ago. Although he had never told anyone, Constanz sometimes still dream about those horrible three months.

Focusing on his force, Constanz banished his past and breathed in deeply. In the absolute silence, the sound of his breathes echoed from the walls. His cell was freezing cold and dressed only in a pair of pants, Constanz shivered.

Now, he felt every minute of the battle he fought before. He felt fatigue in his body and the pain in his flesh. He felt the itching of his re-growing tissues where bacta covered his skin. As he looked down on himself, he found himself asking how in the name of hell could he have survived this. He was covered by so many bruises barely any bronzed skin was visible.

Constanz again called upon the force to gain strength. He let his mind wonder and the force directed his path. He felt the suffering and agony, the anger and the fear filling the atmosphere of Khunalis. He saw his children die and cried for them tearlessly. He wanted his mind to leave the planet. He wanted to search for his lost brother. But in this forsaken cell, even the force seemed so much weaker.

Long, nothing happened. Constanz already lost the feeling of time when a bright light went on, hitting him like a fist. Years ago, when he claimed the throne, Constanz had inspected every facility inside the Castle. He had discovered these inhuman cells deep under the basement of the Breakwater and redesigned its function. In a flash of emotion Constanz had decided that these cells should be made up for his most hated enemies. Chains from the walls would immobilize the prisoner, who ever would be unfortunate enough to be banished here. Also, the tiled floor and walls in the colour of snow should increase the discomfort of the resident, so Constanz could break their will fast.

Now, he realized how effective his reconstruction actually was.

"King Pietas Acrimonia," an anonymous voice echoed from the loudspeaker. "You have been accused of conspiracy against the Galactic Republic and the abstraction of Republic property. What is your statement?"

For one moment, Constanz couldn't believe what he heard. Until now, he assumed that the Republic invaded because of the rumour of him supporting the CIS. But that the invaders knew about his true intention which he kept secret even among his own people was just impossible.

Driven by his paranoia, Constanz trusted only few. Long ago, he had learned only to relay on himself and those he called his own. That included Memento, Mereel and a handful of people he deemed worthy, all chosen among the Khunali nobles and scholars.

Someone must have betrayed him.

Considering his own speculation, Constanz said the only thing he would say in such a situation.

"Kiss my ass!"

"I certainly won't." The voice answered calmly. "Any resistance is futile. We know about your plans."

Constanz would say no more. He had never been trained in resisting interrogation. This particular part of his training went lost when his father found a untimely death. So Constanz kept quiet. Sooner or later, he would figure a way out to escape from this cell. When his wounds were healed by the force, he would fight his path free. Then he only needed to find Mereel and get off planet.

After a long pause, Constanz didn't know how long, the door to the cell slipped open, exposing a clone with dark green markings on his neatly white armour. The armour, so alike the beskar'gam clinched his heart every time Constanz saw it. How ironic, that he was being held by a being so alike himself.

The clone crouched down before Constanz and his gloved fingers caught Constanz' chin, rising it. Again, Constanz sensed the man behind all those armourplast. Although this wasn't the clone with red marking, Constanz could still sense the similarities within the force. Which meant, this man too felt like Mereel. But only within the force.

Constanz refused to believe it. He must have made a mistake. No one so different could be so similar within the force. His husband was nothing like this clone. Mereel was kind, passionate and had a warm heart. This being, this clone on the other hand was filled with anger. This one had a heart cold as ice.

"Who are you?" Constanz asked, hearing his own hoarse voice.

"To you: 'Sergeant'." The soldier answered.

"And your name, Sergeant?"

"You don't have to know it." The Sergeant replied with a droid like voice.

Constanz suddenly remembered a report he read once. Clones weren't like normal men. They weren't born by a mother but originated from bread-tanks. They rolled off the line like droids and knew nothing but training and war. And above all, they didn't have a sense of individuality, but considered themselves a part of a whole. Constanz remembered that clones didn't have a name. They had numbers. They were only products.

"What is your number, then?" Constanz asked and felt a spike in the clone's mood. "I have the right to know the identity of my accuser."

"Clone-Sergeant, N-12." the Sergeant answered.

"Okay, N-12, what do you want from me?" Constanz hissed.

"I know you are in possession of plans of the Galactic City and the Republic Fleet you aren't due to. I want those plans and the codes you stole. As well as the names and locations of the local rebellion and your contacts." The Sergeant recited without emotion.

"Fuck yourself!" Constanz spat.

He wished he knew better how to behave in questioning. But that was luxury he didn't possess. He had never been in such an interrogation before, at least not while he was beaten and chained up. Losing control was hard and Constanz searched his own mind for wisdom he had gained. He wished he had more experience. He wished his will was stronger. And he hoped that the few things he knew about interrogation would be enough to keep him alive until his wounds were closed.

"The sooner you cooperate, the sooner you can get out of here. Do you really want Altis to burn at your cost?"

This Sergeant knew just too well how to make Constanz feel guilty. Constanz' world had been attacked because he had the ambition to overthrown the chancellor. This clone really hit a nerve.

But what should he do? Should he hold on to his believe and let the citizens of Altis and the tens of thousands of soldiers suffer? Should be yield so those he loved could gain freedom again?

He had failed. He failed at defending his home, his people, his children and his love. The realm of Khunalis had fallen, all because of him. But, he needed to remind himself that the force had chosen him for a reason. She had shown him powerful glimpses of the future so he would use her wisdom to prevent it. Why else would she have chosen him?

And was it not true that his faith and ideas would be the salvation of billions? Was this a test? Should he sacrifice those he loved for the greater good? Would Memento carry on his legacy should he perish here? Would it be over? Would he be the one to go down the history of Khunalis as the first touched King who had failed?

"What will happen to all the other prisoners?" Constanz asked eventually. "Will they be tortured?"

"That depends on you, Your Majesty." The Sergeant wasn't crouching before him anymore. The clone paced the room and Constanz followed his every move. Every time the Sergeant came closer, Constanz could sense the darkness boiling up in the clone. Not just a simple anger and hate within every good soldier, but a deeper pain caused by something evil too dark to be named. Constanz realized that this Sergeant hated him. Not because he was the enemy. It was a personal hatred. A personal pain.

"I am a king!" Constanz said with confidence, as convincing as he could. "Even as war-prisoner, I have rights. Interrogation without supervision is a clear violence against the constitution of the republic. Beside, torture has been illegal within the Republic for centuries. The senate will not approve."

The Sergeant chuckled. It surprised Constanz because he could feel the moon shift within the clone. Suddenly this man before him became very human.

He knelt down on his heels before Constanz and sighed annoyed. "Listen, Your Majesty. I'm not some politician and I'm not a Jedi. I don't care about the senate's approval nor do I play by their rules. I'm only interested in the plans you have." The clone made a pause for Constanz to understand the seriousness of his worlds. "You are a clever man, King Acrimonia. You know what I am talking about. And believe me when I assure you that I can be a very naughty boy when I don't get what I want."

The Sergeant didn't wait for Constanz' reply but left the room. This time, the light stayed on, so Constanz had to bear with the uncomfortable brightness.

Regardless of his situation, Constanz was torn between excitement and fear. He was excited because he finally discovered the humanity within those clones. They weren't like the reports said; they weren't just droids made of flesh. They had a heart and they could feel. Constanz had sensed it. He had sensed the sorrow and the warmth. He was sure that this man was a sentient being, capable of love and hate. This clone was no less than any other man Constanz had encountered and he knew that this Sergeant wasn't just an exception.

The secret he wanted to solve for so long finally became clear. With this realization, Constanz even pitied them more. It was hard enough to know that those men were cloned from his Mandalore, but discovering their human side, the King wanted to save them even more.

But on the other hand, they were still the enemy. He feared them, and admired them. He didn't miss the hidden message in their exchange. Just as Constanz had thought, this man was a master of black-ops. Those, who didn't mind getting their hands dirty, doing jobs which were on the edge of legality. And the worst part was that they were given permission to do it.

Now, Constanz had no doubt that the lives of his biological family would depend on his actions. As well as Mereel's.

In this moment, Constanz understood why Jedi formed no attachments. His thinking was selfish and not logical any more. He was more concerned about the man he loved than the welfare of his entire realm. He felt the surge of anger and fear mixed with this urge so cry. He felt his head spinning and his mind became confused.

Images of what might be filled his mind. He saw Mereel suffering pain and crying out his name. He imagined how his cousins and nephews would feel right now. Had Calista escaped the City or was she locked up in her room, asking in solitude if her dear Constanz would come to rescue her. And what was about Memento? He had felt the certain disturbance in the force. Memento was in danger. Was he okay? Was he injured? Captured maybe, or even... no! Stop! Constanz told himself.

If anything had happened to his dearest, he would have known. Even locked up in this force forsaken cell, Constanz would have known.

The Sergeant N-12 was bluffing. Constanz wouldn't be tortured like a prisoner in the salve camps of the Outer Rim. This was no mere pirate attack; this was a civilized world in the Mid Rim. The Republic had laws and they followed them.

But how could he be sure of it? The Republic had already bought an army of slaves. How much worst would it be to torture one single prisoner? Such things were not uncommon. Even the Jedi had their own ways of mental-torture.

No! Constanz told himself again. Stop thinking like this! This is exactly what your enemy wants you to do! Being confused and frightened. You shouldn't do their work for them! There is no emotion. There is serenity.

Constanz bit his lower lip, preventing himself from screaming out of frustration. He could feel the fatigue again, as if he had been running for days. He was freezing and he was hungry. He wanted to sleep but didn't dare. It all drained him so much.

More than ever was he reminded on his past. The chains hurt his wrist and ankles. He felt the tension in his shoulders and wanted to move them. With his hand tied up over his head, Constanz couldn't even scratch himself. The itching of the bacta had become a torture of its own.

Then, Constanz remembered a wisdom a Jedi-Master had told him once. He couldn't remember which Master it was, but he heard the voice clearly in his mind.

Until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction.

Imprisonment was really not comfortable. The more so Constanz needed to figure out a way of escape.