He was worried; his wife had gone quiet. She was rarely quiet on missions unless something was worrying her or she sensed something, or they were messing about and he was kissing her to shut her up. She hadn't said one word as they weaved their way through the milling crowds, no sign of the evening ending. This place was not just like Coruscant but like many industrialised worlds, anything and everything seemed to go here with no police jurisdiction.

The smell of freshly cooked Spice permeated onto the street; he directed his 360 degree vision on to a door, wearing Mandalorian armour was useful even if it did cause a stir, which it wasn't here. He couldn't scan it; even that was suspicious. He noted this particular place seemed very popular. People still queuing to get in the club next to it

He wondered what the rest of the planet was like.

"Are you sensing anything?" He asked his wife; he realised she hadn't spoken since they left the beggar.

Her head had dropped, she was watching the ground. It shot back up as he asked.

"No. Nothing!"

"Are you having trouble with your shielding?"

She shook her head.

"Was it the beggar? Did he say or do something?"

"No! I'm fine, really. It's just that he…."

"Shh!" He put his hand up. "Change of plan. A different rendezvous point."

She watched, as he listened to his com, then turned and looked around, struggling to find the distinctive blue painted plastoid armour. But he had disappeared. The more she thought about it she couldn't understand why he was begging. Other than the ones who had deserted, most clones had either died in service or been decommissioned but they wouldn't keep their old armour, would they?

If he was a deserter surely he would have had somewhere to go. And why didn't the Stormtroopers pick him up. Most of the deserters were on a wanted list somewhere, like her husband, even after ten years. The Empire didn't forget, or forgive. They could still be picked up even though they had chain codes.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Her husband asked, she was beginning to worry him.

"Yes. Fine. I'm a little tired and I miss home…. Del and Kai."

"We won't be long now. Let's get to the new rendezvous point."

They picked up the pace, avoiding the spice sellars, who stopped you at every corner. Insisting you try some; they even got given a freebie. She tucked the bottle in her pocket.

Fifteen minutes later, they were away from the main hub of the city and in what looked like an industrial area. She watched as her husband pressed the entrance key and backed away slightly, still cautious after all these years. It was what kept him, no, what kept them all alive. She flattened herself to the side, all thoughts of the clone veteran pushed aside for now.

Hallena opened the door, checked behind them, again years of being a Republic spook ingrained in her before she let them in and closed the doors. She clasped the Mandalorian on the forearm.

"Good to see you two. Sorry about the divert but it's worse than we thought."

"Hey, good to meet you two too. I'm Haji Estree." A voice came from behind her.

She nodded, her husband grunted, not impressed.

Hallena smiled, he'd tried the charm offensive on her, when she first came planet side. He should know now, that it didn't work on her or her friends.

"So what are we up against now?" She asked Hallena.

Hallena answered by nodding to Estree who put the lights up, and she swept her arm around the room.

It was filled with children.

She looked at her husband.

"There's no way we can get all those in the ship." He waved his hand around as he answered her question, "There has to be another way."

.

The veteran was pushed out into the weak morning light, the door locked behind him, the sound echoing in the morning silence. He pulled his grubby cloak around his shoulders.

"Ya' can't come back till eight tonight." The doorman shouted through the tiny peephole. "And don't be drunk!" The veteran grunted his reply.

He knew the rules.

The credits he got yesterday had paid for a night in one of the better doss houses, which was marginally better than the floor behind the dumpster; at least there weren't rats nibbling at your extremities and it was a little warmer and dry.

He always carried his pack on his back. Not that you got much sleep inside either and not because the beds were just planks with a skinny, filthy, infested mattress plonked on top but because you had to keep your wits about you, otherwise you would lose what credits you had. You didn't broadcast how much you did have and he had hidden his well.

Then the craving came back. He tried to ignore it.

The rules were you had to be out by a certain time after breakfast and breakfast was early. He'd cleaned his bowl and utensils, put them in the bag and hung them on the hook on the wall, by his name. Well the one he went by now. He'd memorised which one because he'd cleaned them well and names could be moved; some didn't clean up and he'd booked in for tonight as well paying in advance.

It was amazing how small your world could become.

This was luxury, two nights on the trot and that was only because the Weequay had been chucked out just after supper. He'd caused a fight with the Aqualish who had seen him deposit a large glob of spit in his food. The clone knew why the Weequay did that. He knew all the tricks now; the Weequay hoped the Aqualish wouldn't want his stew then and he would get seconds.

Weequay weren't the brightest, the Aqualish didn't really care what was in his stew, they would eat anything but he took exception to it and called him out. They'd had a bit of a scuffle. The veteran wouldn't have called it a fight but it was enough to get Weequay booted out. It meant now there was a spare bed for tonight.

The veteran had a choice—something new for him. He could do some more begging today or just take it easy. If he had been cleaner, he could look for work but no one wanted a grubby, smelly clone, with the shakes, not even the spice labs; especially not the Spice labs. Perhaps he should buy some soap. But then where to get the water.

Or he could have a drink.

It wouldn't take much and he could forget everything for a few hours. He pushed that thought away.

Perhaps his luck would be in, perhaps there would be more people like the old General and the woman from Coruscant. He hobbled away to his patch, unable to cope with choices.

.

"There's another way!" Estree offered, but the Empire has tightened up on it, since the Inquisitors left but it won't take you the whole way.

"Even part of the way is better than nothing. Unless the Inquisitors pick up on us."

"They're way too busy running after Kenobi."

"Kenobi, the Jedi?" Maze asked.

"Yep, that's the one."

"Was that why they were here?"

"Huh— Huh."

"And Kenobi escaped?"

"I've just said that."

"How long ago?" Asked Maze. He hated Inquisitors.

"A few rotations now." Estree was evading the question, he had a little trouble with his memory of that part, "Just a few more troopers left behind."

"Estree's a bit of a con man but if the Empire thinks he's conning people, they have difficulty believing what he's really up to." Hallena explained.

Maze wasn't happy with that, his brows drew down as he growled, "Con man?" And stepped towards the man.

Estree took a step back.

"So what's the plan?" Essie asked, to relieve the tension, it was giving her a headache, and moved closer to her husband.

"Get them onboard the freighter and intercept it on the trade run. Unload our part of the Cargo then let it go on to make its delivery. The Empire's none the wiser." Hallena replied quickly.

"So we still need a bigger ship for the transfer." Maze confirmed.

"Cornucopia?" Essie suggested.

"Assuming it's still running. It's old. They were just working on it."

"All the better then." Hallena confirmed. "Can you get in touch with them?"

Maze turned to look at Essie, "I'll call Bes'ika." and turned with her com. She walked to the corner, tapping in the code.

She waited patiently for the reply, then the face of Ordo's wife popped up; she looked a little dishevelled.

"Essie! Good to see you so soon."

"Su'cuy! Sorry if it's late." She said, hearing a male voice grumbling in the background. "Can we borrow the Cornucopia for a trip? One of Djinn's little projects."

"Yes. I'm sure you can, let me just check." She went out of the holo view for a while. "Yes. It's fine, just had a refurb. But it won't be Ny piloting. We'll find someone."

"Thanks. We'll let you know the coordinates."

"Anytime. Mij says Su'cuy. And those tests he did. It's positive. Congratulations but you already knew didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I'd heard Mez'ika talking with Ordo."

"Yes. We'd agreed…."

"I know. Have you told him?

"Not yet."

"He'll be fine with it. You know that, don't you?"

"Sort of."

"You, Del and Kai are his life. He won't mind another one."

"Yes."

"The coordinates?"

"I'll send them when I know."

.

The doss house always smelt of over cooked vegetables but it didn't bother the veteran; he smelt worse, much worse and seen worse. This was nothing compared to war. He hunched over his thin soup, carefully spooning it in his mouth. His hands were still shaking. If he'd had that drink that wouldn't happen but then he would have been kicked out because he wouldn't have been able to ignore the jibes from the Weequay, who was already getting on his nerves.

If he kept this up it would be two Standard weeks that he hadn't drunk anything, or taken anything. But the memories were getting bad. The nightmares would be back.

He already had a headache.

A/N: this was written quickly so any typos. please let me know. Reviews are welcome.