Rain. Always the rain. It was nothing but a light mist when the AT-TE reached the outskirts of the Anuri village, but its presence was felt nonetheless. However, it seemed to be the only presence, as the village looked deserted otherwise. The Anuri didn't keep animals, so there wasn't even a stray pet in sight, just empty streets and abandoned buildings.
Nattan spared two of his gunners to go and scout the settlement, look for signs of life. They returned shaking their heads, seeming just as baffled as they'd been when they left.
"Any sign that Seppies were here? Evidence of a fight, struggle, anything like that?" Nattan asked.
"No sir," one of the two scouts answered.
"It's like they just up and walked out on their own," the other one said, "no damage to structures, houses clear with doors shut and windows boarded up."
"Not for long though," the first supplied, "You know how fast the algae creeps up, and there isn't much on any of the buildings or equipment lying around. They can't have been gone even a week."
Nattan stood on the ground in front of where the AT-TE had parked, looking around and frowning. Like most of his kind, Nattan detested puzzles. He wasn't built to solve mysteries, it simply wasn't in his design. Frankly, he was less concerned with what had happened to the Anuri than what he was going to do with the wounded man. They'd come here for help, and somehow Logan had guided them through without getting them hopelessly stuck. But it all seemed to have been for nothing.
Nattan had risked his tank and the lives of his crew on nothing.
He accepted responsibility for that, but he wasn't exactly keen on giving up. They'd come so far that turning back now seemed ill-advised. Besides which, there probably wasn't anything to go back to. Surely Fortune, if they were alive, would be heading back even now. It was getting dark, and Nattan knew his crew was exhausted. They couldn't return to where they'd started until morning. And by then, Fortune would surely have been and gone already. They wouldn't wait around to see if the tank would come back, they had no good reason to.
However, they just might be able to follow the trail it had left. Nattan wasn't sure any member of Fortune was a tracker but, if they were, they'd likely follow the tank's trail all the way here. He had more than a little faith in the thought that they would come searching for their missing one. Certainly everything Nattan had witnessed of the squad suggested that kind of loyalty.
Nattan knew he'd do the same if one of his own went missing. The tank crew was not his to lose track of, they were his to protect as possible and use to the best advantage of the GAR. Losing track of one of them was counter to that duty. Corporal Volk, at the least, would not be satisfied until he found his missing man. Sergeant Rafe was new to the squad, but he had the qualities to go with the rank from what Nattan had seen. Fortune, if it survived, and if the tank's tracks weren't eliminated by all the rain, would come to find them for sure.
But was staying here wise? The scouts reported no sign of the enemy, or the Anuri. There was no evidence of danger. But, though Nattan was not very experienced with civilization, he knew an empty village signified something, usually bad. But the empty villages he was used to seeing had been burned, and there were bodies in the street, doors which had been kicked in, that kind of thing. This village was just... empty.
Nattan's thoughts were interrupted by Logan sticking his head out of the tank.
"Hey, Sarge, your friend's awake again."
"I've got other things to deal with, right now," Nattan said.
"I know," Logan said, but persisted, "Sir, he asked where we were, and as soon as I told him at the village, he said he knew what had happened to it."
"Is he lucid?" Nattan inquired, not eager to waste his time.
"Seems to be," Logan replied, then shrugged, "But I'm not sure I'd know the difference if he wasn't."
Nattan wasn't sure if this was Logan's way of reminding Nattan that he wasn't a medic, or if he was merely indirectly expression the level of his exhaustion. Knowing Logan, probably both.
Nattan sighed, "Alright. Can't do any harm to listen to him anyway."
Phisher felt totally numb, except for the tremendous weight against his chest. He'd finally let go of Onoff's body, but he hadn't found the strength to actually stand up.
It had been necessary. He knew that. And yet, he felt guilty. The plain fact was that he had committed murder. He had killed a defenseless man. Worse, that man had been his friend. That Onoff had not only given him permission, but actually asked for it, didn't make him feel a bit better. Nor did knowing why it had to be done.
A long time ago, before he had known Phisher wasn't a clone like himself, Onoff had explained the nature of his worst fear. Onoff knew he had a psychological inability to disregard commands, even if the one who'd given the command tried to cancel the order. It had been his worst fear that he would get someone killed because of it. After Onithera, he had been more aware of it than ever.
Bean had been given orders to shoot Fortune, but he'd made the decision not to. He had decided that the orders did not make sense, and he could not in good conscience carry them out. It was a choice that Onoff was incapable of making. The chain of command, for him, was unbreakable. One day, he knew that it would choke him, and that he might not be the one to pay the ultimate price for it.
If it had not been Rafe, it would have eventually been someone else. Probably someone who didn't have Fortune's best interests at heart. Onoff had known it. He couldn't have imagined it would be like this, but he knew that his weakness could get his brothers killed.
Onoff had, after Onithera, told about a recurring nightmare he had, in which he was given the order to destroy a group of targets. Only when he approached did he realize that the orders were a mistake, and he'd been sent to kill a bunch of GAR troopers. He couldn't stop, and killed them all. After telling Phisher about it, and explaining how it could too easily come true, Onoff had asked Phisher to do something for him. If he ever became a direct danger to Fortune or any other GAR soldiers, he asked Phisher to kill him. Phisher had agreed to do so, knowing that, sooner or later, he would have to make good on that promise.
Phisher wasn't a clone. Up to now, he had never had to kill anything but droids and the occasional savage beast trying to do him in. On Onithera, he had killed animals for food. And he had once had to shoot to kill a squad of clones who'd gone rogue. But that was different. They had been trying to kill him. And they had also been acting more like animals than people at the time. Besides, Phisher wasn't actually certain he'd killed any of them himself.
Dimly, he realized that Tavis had knelt down beside him. He wondered how long Tavis had been there. Tavis, whose life had been spared because of Phisher's actions. Tavis, who had the grace not to say anything, to just sit in silence and let Phisher work it out for himself.
"How am I supposed to live with what I've done?" Phisher asked, not really expecting an answer.
He got one anyway.
"In a galaxy of uncountable millions, we are each of us alone," Tavis replied, "We each must find the truth of ourselves, and live with all that we do, or fail to do."
"Where did you go? What happened to you?" Phisher asked, "Why didn't you come back?"
"By the time I learned how to bear my own burdens, and deal with what I'd become, you had already been deployed. It was far more logical to send me out with the first unit that needed an extra body than to try and get me back where I belonged," Tavis hesitated, "But, I should have been here. I knew I needed to be here... I should have found a way. I didn't. And now I have to live with that."
"Tavis," Phisher shook his head, "You're only a clone in the GAR, a pawn of the Jedi and Republic. You do not, and never will, have the power to go against them."
"Maybe. Maybe not. Now we'll never know. Onoff paid the price for my not trying," he paused, then added quietly, "And so have you. You should never have been in that position, Phisher. It shouldn't have happened. But it did. And there's nothing I can say that will make this better, for any of us."
"I knew this would happen. Someday it had to," Phisher said, his voice shaking, "I knew that, if I stayed, I would have to do this. That I would have to live with this. I didn't belong to the GAR, not like you. I could have left... I could have just gone home, forgot any of this ever happened."
"And left Onoff alone?" Tavis said, "Left him alone with that fear?"
Phisher looked at Tavis in surprise.
"No, he never mentioned it to me. But it wasn't hard to guess. What greater fear is there for any of us than losing control of ourselves and hurting the people we care about most?"
Phisher had no answer for that, and remained silent.
"If you had left, you'd have left Onoff alone with everyone's worst nightmare, and no way out. Yet you chose to stay. You gave him hope. Not that he would escape his fate, but that he might not hurt anyone he cared about when his time eventually came. You gave him that, at great cost to yourself. You were his friend, because a true friend doesn't leave when things get rough. They carry you through. Onoff depended on you, and you came through for him when he needed it the most, no matter how much it injured you. You knew that this was a pain you'd have to live with for the rest of your life. You did that for him. I can't tell you how to deal with this, but I hope you'll remember that you didn't do this to Onoff. You did it for him. That made all the difference in the world to him. And to me."
Tavis rested his hand on Phisher's shoulder briefly. Then he stood and walked away.
Phisher sat for a moment more. But then, almost to his surprise, he found he had the strength to stand.
Perhaps he always had.
Caden was sitting propped up by the inner wall of the tank. He was obviously much physically weaker than before; it was doubtful that he could move much for himself at all anymore. But, evidently, his mind was still quite sharp, if he'd been alert enough to ask where they were and what was happening, process the answers and then come up with a theory of what had happened.
"How do you feel?" Nattan asked, realizing it was a perfectly foolish question.
"Like I've been stepped on," Caden replied, his breath wheezing audibly, "But I didn't ask for you so I could complain about your driving."
"I suppose not," Nattan said, "Logan tells me you have a theory about what happened to the village."
"It's not a theory," Caden told him, "I don't think; I know."
"I stand corrected. So, report then."
"You remember the swarm?" at Nattan's nod, Caden went on, "Well, it's been bothering me where they went to. They were still with us during the flood, right?" Nattan nodded again, "So where did they go?"
"I have no idea," Nattan answered.
"Neither did I. Why would a hungry swarm leave a perfectly good meal behind?" Caden answered himself, "Unless they detected an easier one nearby."
"I don't follow," Nattan admitted.
"Based on our brief experience, these insects fed on energy, whether from living or mechanical beings. They also bite, suggesting they could consume flesh, if they chose."
It abruptly made sense. The closed doors, boarded up windows.
"They were trying to shut them out."
"We had armor to protect us. But can you imagine what would happen to an unprotected body if thousands of those things descended? There wouldn't be time to even move. You'd be dead before you knew it."
"Shouldn't the Anuri have developed a means of protecting themselves?"
"They did," Caden replied, "The Anuri are amphibious creatures. The swarm probably can't swim. The same flood that brought them out of the woodwork should have protected the Anuri."
"But it didn't. Why not?"
"Most races eventually come to a point where they start going against nature, and trying to control it. They usually do this before they have the power to do so."
"I don't follow."
"The Anuri didn't want to go in the water. Maybe there's some kind of predator in the water that they're afraid of, or maybe they just resent having to hide. So they decided to defy the nature of their existence. They probably developed some kind of repellent that works most of the time. But, every now and then, a special storm unleashes the swarm from wherever they normally thrive. I have a theory about that. In their millions, the imperative to move as one, and to feed, overrides the effect of whatever repellent the Anuri have," he paused, and coughed, "Or possibly it's been so long that they forgot what they were using the repellent for. If they haven't seen the swarms in generations, it would be easy for the reality to become a myth in their minds. A superstition. The repellent a custom they abandoned."
"And you figured all that out just sitting in here by yourself?" Nattan asked, in some disbelief.
"Not only from that. I've been to the Anuri villages, and I've talked to the people some. There were clues all over the place, but they didn't come together until I knew about the swarms."
"And yet, you retained information that was seemingly irrelevant at the time."
"That's my thing," Caden said, "I'd be a damn sorry tactician if I didn't remember everything that might be relevant some day, wouldn't I?"
"I suppose that's true," Nattan agreed, "But where does that leave us?"
"I expect the swarm is long gone, to hibernate in its hole until the next storm calls it out to feed. Could be a year from now, or twenty. I don't have enough information to make a guess."
"So there aren't any bodies because the swarm... ate them?"
"Precisely," Caden coughed again, and his breathing became shakier for a moment while he rode out some internal pain, "And then they went back to their hole."
"Their hole... as in... a Suicide Hole?"
'Suicide Hole' was what troopers had taken to calling the Morassin dead zones, since it was generally considered suicide to enter one, whether you were GAR trooper or Separatist or even an Anuri. Anybody who went in, didn't come out again.
"That's my guess."
Before Nattan could put together another sentence, Logan was at him again.
"Nat, there's an Anuri waiting outside the tank. He says he can help us."
Nattan looked at Caden, but the PFC said nothing.
"Looks like your theory just got shot down," Nattan remarked.
"Maybe," Caden whispered under his breath as Nattan left, "But I don't think so."