Daiyu

10 years after Order 66

"I didn't expect a planet that looked like a bad copy of the lower levels of Coruscant,"she huffed, "not when you said 'We could go somewhere a little more sophisticated'." She added, repeating his offer word for word.

She followed him down the ramp of the ship.

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"I did not." He retorted, as they reached the exit.

"Well…." He hated it when his wife started a sentence with 'well'; it usually meant extra work.

"You can make it up to me when we get back home." He smiled as he felt the slight touch of her knuckles against his; although that type of work he was in usually favour of.

He nodded as the official ticked them off on their datapad, before they entered the thoroughfare.

People streamed along the street, the two aliens fighting were taking up a great deal of space; he watched as she dodged around the first one and he took the other direction but she didn't see the other fight breaking out on the outskirts. Just pushing and shoving at the moment, too drunk to do much more; until the Aqualish was pushed over too far and his tusks headed towards her. She just dodged them but ended up on the floor.

He was there in seconds and with two jabs, in quick succession, to a couple of the eyes sorted him. He pulled his wife up to check her and they moved quickly to an alley, not wishing to draw any more attention to themselves.

"You alright?"

"Of course! It'd take more than that to keep me down."

She saw his look of dismay, and added, "Although I did appreciate the two jabs. Very classy!"

"I just like to know I'm still useful."

They turned, walking for a few more yards until she stopped without warning; his shoulder hit her, pushing her forward.

"Fuck!"

"Language!"

He wanted to say that the children weren't around but she interrupted.

"Stormtroopers. Lots of them."

They moved to the side of the alley, in the shadows; then he watched the soldiers in white plastoid, as they marched past the end.

"I thought the Garrison had left with the Inquisitors?

"It has, this is not a full Garrison." He replied, switching to his com channel. "Sloppy!" He muttered.

"Once a member of the GAR…."

"SOB!" He growled, correcting her.

He heard his wife snigger down the Com.

"Watch it! Or else!"

"Ooooh!" She said, mockingly afraid at his words. "Or else what?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. He pushed her harder against the wall, his arms above her, holding it for a few seconds longer then he released her from the protective cage he had around her.

"I thought you were going to start something?" She teased, remembering several occasions when they had taken the opportunity for some recreational activity against a wall, with a potential audience.

They were younger then.

"Later!"

"Promises, promises." She replied, teasing him, as she dusted her coat down, adjusting her under armour.

They emerged onto the main thoroughfare, lit with bright lights advertising everything you could possibly want, watching closely as the Stormtroopers checked on some unfortunate person further down the street. It appeared a random search, as right next to them, Spice was being dealt openly and another fight had broken out over some petty squabble.

Or perhaps it was simply those people didn't fit the Imperial profile, like her and her husband. She strengthened her mental block just like Arli had trained her. She had come late to this Force thing, happily for her.

"You okay, Cyar'e?"

"Ugh! This place is worse than Tatooine. At least some there people are trying to make an honest living. Here, nobody appears honest. The only good thing is there's no bloody sand."

"Tell me about it! Gets everywhere!" He adjusted his armour and watched the stormtroopers, they were dragging the person away now, "I think you're right." He looked around, "Spice dealers, con men, bounty hunters and mercenaries and that's just on the left hand side of the street."

She smiled, knowing her husband was trying to stop her worrying. She didn't often come on these missions but Hallena had contacted the base and requested backup, and a larger ship. And as they were already out there, on their way back from Mandalore, a fake responder already set up, they were the first choice.

"Everyone here is on the make!" She smiled at her husband's comment; he still didn't have the attachment to credits that natborns did. He understood the necessity of them but not the continued building up of them.

"Perhaps they have no other choice." She replied, The Empire, as well as the Republic ran on the acquisition of credits, legal or otherwise.

Her husband put his hand to his ear; she knew from past experience he was listening to a call. She looked around at the different scenes unfolding, thankful she didn't live here.

"We have coordinates from Hallena Are you…..? Bloody hell where's she gone now."

He turned frantically, looking for his wife; she could take care of herself but it still panicked him, the thought of losing her again.

.

She heard the beep of the com coming through. Then she thought she heard her husband talk but why was he asking her for credits. She turned towards the darkened corner where the other voice originated, and stepped forward slowly, strengthening her shield when she saw the figure leaning against the rubbish dumpster.

The voice.

She moved closer.

"Spare any credits?"

The voice, one of millions.

"Help a veteran get a warm meal."

She bent over to look closer, not believing her eyes; her hand automatically went to her bag, fingers scrabbling inside, as she couldn't take her eyes off the figure in front of her.

She didn't carry much but she had the urge to give him all she had.

If she hadn't seen the face or heard that voice she would have assumed it was some low life who had stolen the armour that was partially covered by a ragged cloak, with the addition of bandages around his wrists trying to keep out the cold.

His armour.

Not a stormtrooper's.

A clone's.

Only parts, dirty, blaster scorched and with markings, blue markings, 501st blue.

She looked at the helmet he held out in front of him.

Phase two? She wondered.

He pushed the helmet towards her again. She couldn't take her eyes off it, as she dropped the credits in.

Memories came back to her of a time in War, a time in Coruscant. Clones were her friends. Then she lost them. They were lost!

"Is that enough? Will it help?" She asked.

"Yes, ma'am." That voice again.

She finally looked at the man.

Not what she expected.

Not the clean shaven, short haired young men she had known years earlier; walking around Coruscant bright eyed and excited.

A long haired, bearded, bedraggled, shell of a man, old before his time. Eyes with no hope left.

She knew his face.

The face that looked back at her, she knew intimately; she saw it most nights before her eyes closed but those eyes she saw at night held love and hope.

"I've got the coordinates from our contact and we're to meet Hallena there." came over her com.

She didn't answer; she couldn't move.

"Cyar'ika, you okay? Where are you?"

She backed away and turned to her husband.

"I'm here, look!" She pointed to the dumpster.

When she turned back, the beggar was gone.

"Cyar'e?"

"A beggar. I gave him some credits."

"I always said you were a soft touch."

"Yes." She swallowed hard, barely able to get the words out.

Had she imagined it?

"Come on. I know where we're meeting Estree."

She followed her husband, snaking through the streets to their she tell him?

.

The old clone had moved when he had the chance, as soon as she moved away; his leg hurt him more and more but this was the second time in, he couldn't remember how many rotations, that he had seen someone from his past life. Someone who had given him credits, more in one day than he normally got in a week.

"Is it enough?" she had asked. It was more than he normally got. He could get several meals and if he was clever with it, it could last him all week.

He thought she was going to say something but she didn't.

The General didn't but he had a reason. The red blades were on the planet again and the soldier knew what they did.

He finally limped into the little cantina he used; they didn't bother him there and let him stay longer if they weren't busy. By the time he reached the counter, his stomach was grumbling.

"A bowl of your hot spicy noodles, please." he had found being polite even here helped sometimes.

"Hey Jac. Had a good day?"

He nodded, the smell of the noodles made his mouth water.

He looked at the credits. If he had noodles every day. it would last him all week.