Chapter 3: Quiet Desperation
"Thanks for getting us this nice booth, Reese," Nexus said, settling back into the dark faux leather seat and closing his eyes like it was the most luxurious nerf leather.
Reese's whole batch was there—all five of them, each tasked with one of the more public-facing posts on Coruscant. Nexus headed up security at the power plant that powered the GAR's military bases on-planet, Hound worked with the rescue and recovery unit, Halflife worked at the military prison, Watt was on Senate bodyguard duty whenever he wasn't helping Reese—back on Kamino none of them had imagined this was what their service would look like, but here they were.
"Anyone can get a booth. There are pretty much no strings to pull here," Reese said, deflecting the thanks. His eyes darted over to Commander Fox at the far end of the booth, and he doubted that Fox would see Nexus's words in a positive light. Word from the higher ups was that clones should avoid entanglements with civilians, and Reese didn't want the commander to think that he was getting too chummy with club employees.
If it weren't for Fox Reese wouldn't even be here. He never came to 79s on his off time if he could help it, but Fox being the one to organize this "bonding activity" rendered it essentially mandatory.
Fox seemed to sense Reese's unease, and he held a pardoning hand up in his direction. "I can imagine you'd rather not come back here on your downtime, Reese. But it was either here or the barracks."
A collective groan rose up around the table, and Reese had to give it to the commander. They didn't have a lot of options when it came to recreational activities.
"If you don't mind my asking, sir, what's the purpose of this little get-together?" Watt asked.
"What, a commander can't ask for some time out with his friends without raising questions?" Fox asked.
Nexus leveled a flat look at the commander, thoroughly unconvinced. "We know you've been meeting with squads one by one, sir. You're too busy a man for that kind of campaign to be purely social."
Fox let out a long-suffering sigh and leaned back. "It is social. It's important that we bond, as brothers-in-arms. In the capital we work among civilians, we don't feel the sting of battle on the front lines, we're less often called on to put our lives in our brothers' hands. It can sometimes be harder to feel like soldiers, harder to see our higher purpose."
Reese bit back a doubtful smirk at the Commander's words. He certainly agreed that the Coruscant Guard could use a greater sense of camaraderie and purpose, he just didn't think that atmosphere was likely to be encouraged by going out to a bar with their uptight commander.
"Great idea, Commander!" Watt said, and Hound rolled his eyes.
"Nobody likes a kiss-ass, Watt," Fox said coolly, and Watt flushed.
"What'll you boys be having?" the waitress asked, walking up to the table with her order pad.
Reese looked up and smiled when he recognized Kiraz's grey, braided hair and sharp, pale features. He caught her eye and she returned the smile with an efficient nod of her head.
"A round of Alderaan beers, please," Reese said.
"Perfect." Kiraz jotted down the order on her datapad, then looked back up at Reese. "Good to see you again, Reese."
Reese couldn't help the way his smile grew that she remembered his name. "You too. How's Emil?"
"He's good. And at home, I promise!" Kiraz said with a laugh.
"Well, tell him not to make any more trouble for his mom."
Kiraz's face clouded in confusion, then cleared as she understood his meaning. "Oh… Emil is my nephew. I'm single."
Reese's mind blanked at this unexpected information and her apparent eagerness to share it. "Oh, alright then," he said, smile still in place.
"I'll be right back with your drinks."
She turned and left the booth, and Reese's smile fell when he felt the weight of every eye around the table on him. He swallowed thickly and settled back into his seat, taking a sudden interest in his gloved hands.
"She's pretty," Nexus said with a knowing smirk.
"Way too pretty for Reese," Halflife said. "What did you do, let her off with a warning or something?"
"No, I didn't- She's not-" Reese sputtered, hyper-aware of Commander Fox's steely gaze on him. "She's just grateful I got Flex off her back."
"Ahh," Nexus said, as if that explained everything. Which annoyed Reese a little. There was nothing going on between him and Kiraz, but it wasn't because there was something wrong with him.
"Yeah, I can confirm. I was there when Flex was bothering her," Watt said.
"Well if you're in her good graces you should press the advantage, brother," Hound said, reaching around Halflife's back to clap Reese on the shoulder.
"The only women I see every day are behind a ray shield. Some brothers get all the luck," Halflife said.
"It's not luck-"
"If you're trying to suggest that skill is the reason she's interested-"
"Enough," Fox said, and all banter immediately ceased. His voice wasn't fiery or loud, but Fox had a practiced authority about him that was impossible to ignore.
Reese cleared his throat. "Sir…"
Fox raised a hand to forestall Reese's explanations. "Relationships with civilians are not technically forbidden. But I don't think I need to explain to you why a soldier serving on the front lines blowing off some steam on leave is different from one of us starting a whole relationship with a local girl."
"I understand, sir," Reese said. "And we're just friendly… in a professional sense."
"I'm sure. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Reese. I'm not worried about you."
"Thank you, sir."
"Enough with the sirs!" Commander Fox said. "Tonight is a night for celebration and brotherhood. Reese here has single-handedly improved the reputation of clones everywhere by leaps and bounds by managing clone recreational behavior. The prison under Halflife's direction is more secure than ever. Nexus shut down a major power siphoning operation last week, and Watt personally stopped the assasination of Senator Jakker-Sun."
Reese nodded his gratitude, though his accomplishments did sound rather petty when set alongside his batchmates' work. He wasn't about to ruin the mood.
"Oya!" Hound said, raising his fist in lieu of the drinks that had yet to arrive.
"What exactly happened with Senator Jakker-Sun, anyway?" Halflife asked. "Did you really stop the blaster bolt with your own bare hands?"
Watt laughed. "What? Who told you that?"
"Then tell us the story!" Hound said.
Watt launched into a detailed and humorous description of his heroics, and Reese listened on in amusement. Watt had told him the story before, but it was fun to hear it again, and even more satisfying to see their batchmates' reactions. Maybe Commander Fox was onto something. As individuals it wasn't always easy to see what they were accomplishing, but they always had an easier time seeing the value in each others' work.
Kiraz walked up to the table with an expertly-balanced tray full of beers just as Watt's story was winding down.
"I've got your drinks here!" she said, setting the tray down and passing out the drinks.
When it was Reese's turn she leaned over the long table to get the bottle to him. Her position gave him an excellent view right down her front, and he swallowed thickly before averting his eyes. In a knee-length fitted dress with a high collar and no sleeves, Kiraz's outfit was conservative compared to her fellow servers. The most daring part of her getup was definitely the slit down the front that went all the way from her high collar to midway down her chest, and even though he'd seen much skimpier clothing, they hadn't distracted him like this.
"Thanks," he muttered awkwardly, and he looked up just in time to see Kiraz give him a confused look.
"Well… I'll see you later then," she said, turning away from the table.
Reese returned to his drink and took a long pull, avoiding the knowing glances of his brothers and trying to put Kiraz's forbidden figure out of his mind. He'd thought she was pretty before, but in more of a clinical sense, like a foreign language. Now that he'd actually talked to her, now that she recognized him and would bother to greet him when they ran into each other, the foreign element had disappeared. In the GAR, familiarity with civilians was dangerous.
"That was painful," Hound said, never one to read the room.
Reese just cleared his throat and took another drink from his bottle. He didn't think saying any more would help him.
"Why don't we get back to what the commander was saying earlier?" Watt said, and Reese could have kissed him.
Commander Fox nodded in Reese's direction. "Thanks Watt. We in command want to make sure morale is high and do what we can to keep the boys going. I know serving on Coruscant is hard. There are more rules for us to follow here, and it doesn't always feel natural to be serving among so many civilians. It's not in our blood. But we have an important duty here, not just to the civilians, but to our brothers on the front line. Public opinion matters in the war, and we're the most visible face of the GAR. We need to preserve the reputation of the GAR for our brothers' sakes."
The men all slowly nodded. Commander Fox's speech wasn't exactly bringing up the mood, but it was still inspiring, in its own way. It was too easy for Reese to get lost in the minutiae of his beat and forget why it mattered to the whole. If the people on Coruscant could see the clones for the disciplined, dedicated soldiers they were, they'd be more supportive of the war and the clones of the front lines would have a better chance at making it through alive. It helped to keep that in mind when he was cleaning up throwup for the fourth time in a week.
"Commander, I heard a rumor that the Senate was going to stop funding for the phase III armor," Watt said. "Is that what you're talking about?"
Reese leaned forward eagerly. They'd all been hearing rumors about phase III armor for what seemed like forever. As much an improvement phase II armor was over phase I, there were still a lot of kinks and discomforts they were all eager to see done away with. Unfortunately, the upgrade seemed to be perpetually on the horizon.
Commander Fox sighed. "That's one thing, yes. Phase III is underfunded right now, and the Senate is currently voting on a bill that would likely give us enough budget to finish development."
"We've gotta get that armor, boss," Hound said. "I don't think I can handle the way the comlink shorts out at long range for much longer."
"Try to keep that in mind if a regulation seems unfair or not worth keeping," Commander Fox continued. He turned his gaze to Reese, and Reese blushed. Would this night out ever end?
The alarm on Kiraz's comm let out a subtle ding, and she sighed in relief. The shift from hell was finally over. She'd thought it might not be too bad, especially when she saw Reese come in. Reese didn't usually come to 79s except on official business, so she was intrigued to see what he might be like off-duty. Then she'd had to go and make it awkward by, completely unprovoked, telling him she was available. She'd hoped that, socially adept as he seemed to be, he'd take her embarrassing gaffe in stride and continue as normal, but that hadn't been the case.
As soon as he'd made it clear he wasn't comfortable talking to her any more, she'd switched tables with another server for the rest of the night, not wanting a repeat performance of whatever-that-was.
Swapping tables turned out to be a mistake, though, because her new table was a group of surly bounty hunters who wanted lots of alcohol and were very particular about how their drinks were mixed and served. She couldn't imagine why bounty hunters would come to a bar full of soldiers, but the clones didn't seem to mind the bounty hunters, and the bounty hunters seemed to enjoy feeling like such badasses that they could go wherever they wanted with impunity. Their masculine bravado only got worse as the night wore on and they got more drinks in them.
And so it was with great relief that Kiraz headed for the back room to end her shift, passing by Reese's forgotten table as she left. His back was to her, so he didn't notice her, but her mouth flattened in dissatisfaction as she passed. She'd been so happy to see his friendly face—so similar to his brothers and yet so open and warm—but then he'd completely closed up to her. She chastised herself as she continued on to the back room, telling herself she shouldn't have let herself look forward to seeing him again so much. She'd built him up in her head, but really they'd barely interacted. It was just so hard when she knew barely a soul on this planet, and he had such kind eyes and a strong jaw and broad shoulders… Well. best not to continue that line of thinking.
"Mrrta," Kiraz said as she found her fellow waitress in the back rooms, "you're up on tables twelve through eighteen, plus five."
"Why five?" Mrrta asked, rubbing the drowsiness from her eyes.
"Swapped a table with Quilana," Kiraz said with a shrug, trying not to notice the heavy bags under Mrrta's eyes and the unhealthy pallor of her skin. Mrrta's face had grown more and more gaunt over these past few weeks, and though Kiraz was used to angular features on Umbara, she knew the way the outline of Mrrta's bones was visible through her skin was not healthy for a human like her.
"Alright, I got it," Mrrta said, taking Kiraz's datapad and heading out to battle. Her look of determination was belied somewhat by the slight sway to her walk.
Kiraz watched her coworker go, her concern growing with each unsteady step. Mrrta hadn't shown up to work high yet, but Kiraz wouldn't be surprised at this point. A part of her wanted to say something, but her instincts for self-preservation told her to mind her own business. She didn't have any proof that Mrrta had a spice addiction, anyway.
Kiraz's shoulders relaxed and she closed her eyes for a moment, giving herself a beat to regroup before heading home. She opened her locker along the wall and pulled out her walking shoes, quickly swapping them with the shimmering, strappy ones Biss "encouraged" the wait staff to wear. She reached inside the locker for her coat, but it was missing. Huffing in frustration, Kiraz headed for the storage room, remembering she'd put it on to go to the cool storage room earlier in her shift.
Holding her bag in both hands, Kiraz backed into the storage room, only hearing movement inside after the door was already open.
"You're not supposed to be in here during restocking!" Biss's harsh voice sounded across the room, and Kiraz whirled around.
Biss was inside the storage room, stacking a large number of crates in the corner with several other men and an Ithorian. They all had a decidedly tough look about them.
"Oh, I was just looking for my jacket-" she said.
"Get it tomorrow. Out."
The men holding the boxes stared at her in a way that wasn't entirely nonthreatening, and she quickly walked back through the door, letting it fall shut behind her. She hadn't heard about a "no employees in the storage room during restocking" rule, but then again she rarely had reason to go to the storage room in the first place. She'd only gone earlier in her shift because the bartender had asked her to get a new jug of spotchka.
Kiraz leaned against the closed storage room door for a long moment, her heart racing though she didn't quite understand why. Biss was never really in a good mood, but his reaction seemed so out of proportion. She felt like she'd done something terribly wrong, but what could be so wrong with walking into the storage room?
Those boxes had been labeled Lothal spicebrew, and the amount in those crates had to be at least a two year supply given the drink's relative unpopularity. Kiraz would be willing put real hard credits on those crates not actually containing spicebrew.
Don't worry about what's not your business, her mother's voice admonished her in her head. Keep your head low and we'll all be fine.
Kiraz shook her head and made her way to the employee's exit out the back. Her mother was right—what would she even do if she figured this mystery out? It would only get her in trouble. She put Biss and his mysterious crates out of her mind.
It was a cold, foggy Coruscant night, and Kiraz shivered the whole way home. She inserted her key fob into the door lock and stumbled inside her humble apartment, catching herself and trying to soften her footfalls so as not to wake Emil.
Emil slept peacefully in a crib pushed up against the wall of the tiny living room. Kiraz's mother Elif slept on the couch next to the crib, curled up with a lumpy pillow and scratchy blanket. Elif's dark hair and rounded features had been so distinctive on Umbara, but here they were the norm. Kiraz made a special effort to shut the front door carefully behind her, but her mother stirred at the noise anyway.
"Kiraz? Sweetie?" Elif said.
"I'm home," Kiraz whispered, setting her bag carefully on the ground.
Elif screwed her eyes shut and yawned, stretching her achy back out as she did so. She got to her feet and tiptoed over to the kitchenette in the corner where they'd be less likely to wake the baby. The brief time between when Kiraz got home and went to sleep was essentially the only chance she had to see her mother, who worked during the day, so Elif always made a point to wake when she got home and talk for a few minutes.
"How's Emil been?" Kiraz asked her mother once she'd joined her in the far corner of the room.
Elif smiled dreamily. "He remains my perfect grandson, as always."
"No more hair pulling?"
"Oh, he definitely still pulls hair. It just doesn't make him any less perfect."
Kiraz laughed softly, then reached for her mother's hand. "Any news from Trung?"
Elif shook her head sadly. "Nothing direct. And all the news from Umbara is bad."
Kiraz squeezed her mother's hand and leaned her head on her shoulder. "He'll be alright. He's always been the smart one."
"Not smart enough, apparently," Elif said, then she sighed. "That brother of yours. Sometimes I'm so proud of him I could burst. And sometimes I'm so angry I don't even know what I'll say when I see him again."
"He's doing what he thinks is right," Kiraz said. "I'm proud."
"I know," Elif said, casting her dark eyes over towards the crib. "But I don't want Emil to grow up without a father."
"He won't," Kiraz said insistently, with a confidence she didn't entirely feel. "The war will end and we'll see Trung again and Emil will have his father back."
"I hope so. I can only afford this level of worry for one child. Please, please stay out of trouble here. We just have to hunker down and get by until the war is over, and we can figure things out after that."
"Don't worry, Mom. When would I even have time to do anything risky, anyway?"
"That's certainly true."
Elif yawned again, and her sleepiness reminded Kiraz of her own exhaustion.
"I need to get to bed," Kiraz said, rubbing at her eyes.
"Me too. I'll see you tomorrow, love."
Kiraz hugged her mother to her chest, then grabbed her toiletries and headed to the shared refresher in their tenement. She washed up as quickly as she could, then crept back into her apartment and over to the mattress in the corner opposite the kitchenette—a mattress the three adults shared, though never at the same time. She curled up on the dingy mattress, still warm from when her father had slept on it only a few hours earlier, and opened up the datapad she'd managed to bring with her from Umbara, enjoying the few moments of leisure she allowed herself a day. She scrolled through several news updates, most of them about various senate hearings and skirmishes in the Outer Rim, then navigated to a more obscure portion of the HoloNet, a channel dedicated to anti war stories and independent journalism.
The latest reporting covered the ongoing conflict on Onderon against the Separatist-backed government. Supposedly independent insurgents on the planet were mounting stiff resistance against the king of Onderon, but the anonymous author of the article Kiraz read wrote that his reporting had uncovered Republic backing for those rebels. Kiraz was no fan of the Separatists, but it seemed underhanded of the Republic to resort to such tactics, if the accusations were true. Wasn't the Republic founded on the principle of self-determination? If Onderon no longer wished to be a part of the Republic, that was their prerogative.
Kiraz sighed and shut off her datapad, hiding it under her pillow and closing her eyes. That was Trung talking. She couldn't afford to think like him. Their family could only afford one outspoken activist, and even then only barely.
She settled in and mentally prepared herself for the monotony of the day to come. Eat, sleep, and work—Kiraz was only living to survive. She tried to convince herself that it was all in service of some not-too-distant future, that if she endured now their family could be whole again like her mother said. Most days that was enough.
"He stole money from me, and got me pregnant, and spread lies about me to my friends!" the woman screamed into Reese's face, her enthusiasm leaving spittle on his chin.
"Maybe we should discuss this outside? Or at my office back at the RCMO?" he said, conscious of all the eyes on the woman and the poor sap she was berating just inside the front entrance to 79s.
"No way. We do this right here, right now. I'm not leaving until he pays me what he owes me," the woman said, pointing a finger accusingly at the clone whose black uniform and rank tiles marked him as a member of the engineering corps.
"What's your designation?" Reese asked the clone.
"CE-45664," looking miserable but making no move to either deny the woman's claims or flee the scene.
"And name?"
"...Tork."
"And ma'am, what's your name?"
"Lonnie."
"Ok Lonnie, I'm going to need you to be truthful about your claims, because I know at least one of your accusations is a lie," Reese said. It wasn't as diplomatic as he should probably say it, but Reese was feeling impatient. He had better things to do with his time, and there were women who'd truly been wronged who wouldn't be served by this kind of behavior.
"What?" she gasped, outraged.
"You're not pregnant with Tork's baby."
"How dare you say that?" she said, her hand dropping to rub her rounded belly. "I've seen doctors. I've taken a test."
"Oh, I don't doubt that you're pregnant. But clones are sterile, so he's definitely not the father. Now what evidence do you have for your other accusations?"
Lonnie looked taken aback, her hand still flat on her belly, but she rebounded quickly. "He took my credit chit and incurred several hundred credit's worth of charges. I have records of it."
"I told you, Lonnie, I don't know who took your chit but it wasn't me!" Tork finally protested.
"I'm gonna have to agree with Tork on this one," Reese said. "Clones aren't allowed to have any kind of bank account, much less a credit chit, so pretty much no vendor would agree to take a credit chit from a clone. Do we really have to go through the hassle of disproving your last accusation? Or will you leave now and spare yourself the embarrassment?"
"I-! How dare you-! I never-!"
"Is that a yes or a no?"
"I… I… Your commanding officer will be hearing from me officer… whoever you are!"
"CT-8659," Reese said, handing her a piece of flimsi with his info on it. "And feel free to contact Commander Fox."
"Ok then, well… I'll be sure to let him know how I've been treated today!" she huffed, gathering her coat about her and stalking to the exit.
Reese watched her leave, then waited for a beat before turning to the bedraggled engineer. "So… want to tell me what really happened?"
"Thank you so much, CT-8659."
"It's Reese, and you're welcome. It was pretty easy to see her accusations were baseless. How did you get involved with someone like her in the first place?"
Tork sighed and ran a hand through his thick hair, looking harried and exhausted. "She seemed nice. And I just… wanted to know what it was like. To be with someone. Then almost as soon as we got together it was like she was a whole different person. To be honest, I don't really understand how it happened."
"I'm afraid I can't provide much clarity on that front. If she's a grifter, a clone is a strange target."
It would be inappropriate to conjecture further, but Reese had his own private theory. Lonnie didn't strike him as a woman who had much power over her life, and sometimes the downtrodden found perverse satisfaction in hitting whoever had even less power than they. And there weren't many sentient beings in the galaxy lower on the totem pole than a clone.
"Regardless, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up. She's really the first person I've spent any time with outside of the GAR, and I didn't really know what to do," Tork said.
"Unfortunately this isn't quite over yet. I seriously doubt that she'll actually go to Commander Fox, but I still need to write a report and make sure to cover our bases. And if you have been involved in any wrongdoing, best tell me now so it doesn't come out later."
"I haven't. At least, not that I know of."
Reese held out his datapad to scan Tork's wrist, and glanced at his file after the id chip processed. "You're with the 57th, right? Come by my office at the RCMO tomorrow for an interview. And don't try to skip out on it or anything. I'll know where to find you."
"Of course, of course,' Tork said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I… should get back to my squad," he said, backing towards the door.
Reese nodded his agreement. "Yep. See you tomorrow."
Tork left the club, and Reese took a moment to write some notes about the encounter down. He didn't feel great, practically yelling at the civilian like that, but if there was anything he couldn't stand it was someone trying to take advantage of one of his brothers. Most of the time there wasn't much he could do to protect his fellow clones, so whenever he had an opportunity like this he liked to seize it with both hands.
"What was that all about?" a female voice asked, and Reese looked up from his datapad to find Kiraz looking curiously out the door at Tork's retreating form.
"Just a… domestic disturbance," he said, trying to look at her without looking at her. It had been a few weeks since their last runin, and he'd known that running into her again was inevitable, but he still hadn't quite worked out how he was going to behave.
Reese felt bad for how he'd come across last time. Sure, it had been a little strange of her to point out that she was single, but she hadn't necessarily meant anything by it, and regardless it was no excuse to be rude. He wanted to do better this time
"Oh… Yeah, I've seen Lonnie in here before. She seems to have a thing for clones, but it never goes well," Kiraz said.
"Hmm…" Reese said, satisfied to have his suspicions partially confirmed. "Yes, I was getting that impression."
The corner of Kiraz's mouth quirked up, then she seemed to remember their last encounter and she cleared her throat. "Well, I'd better get back to work."
"-Wait!"
Kiraz paused, turning back to him.
"Um… I just wanted to apologize… I was rude to you last time I was here."
Kiraz ran her hand down her braid, adjusting it to fall in front of her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I must have embarrassed you in front of your friends."
"It's not like that," Reese said, eyes widening at the thought that he would be embarrassed by her. He had been embarrassed, but not by her. "I don't know very many civilians. I don't always know how to act." It wasn't exactly the truth but it was close enough.
"Oh, well… That's a relief," she said, the corners of her mouth threatening a full-blown smile.
Alarm bells went off in Reese's head and all he could hear was Commander's Fox's voice ringing in his ears. Don't get too familiar.
"Yeah, well… it's important to have a good rapport with civilians who might give statements or serve as witnesses in my cases," he said.
The smile vacated Kiraz's face. "Of course. I'll let you know if I see anything suspicious, officer."
Reese almost corrected Kiraz on calling him an officer, then he remembered they'd had that discussion before and she'd either forgotten or chosen to call him that anyway.
"Well, um… Alright then. I"ll see you around," Reese said.
"Goodbye," Kiraz said, walking away without a second glance.
Reese left the club, walking to his speeder through a persistent, medium-weight rain. He thought of the elusive phase III armor, thought about Tork and how little he could have done if his accuser had gone to someone else with her accusations, thought about the squads he saw at 79s return a few weeks later with half as many men. Rain soaked through his blacks and weighed him down, but his insides felt empty.