Final chapter of the Quinlan Vos and Deltas arc . . . :D


Quinlan Vos had a very good singing voice. He also hadn't shut up for the past quarter of an hour.

Thirty-Eight supposed it could be worse, judging from General Kenobi's hasty retreat forty-five minutes previous. That, or Kenobi hated music. Or perhaps Vos always sang the same thing over and over, and Kenobi just hated that particular song.

Boss took a sip of caf, idly wondering what the words to the song meant. "Fixer, what language is that?" he asked.

His corporal glanced up from a datapad. "I don't know, sir. Probably Kiffar."

Vos stopped singing to look at him. "It's Basic."

"It's not Basic, General," Boss said immediately, since an argument would be preferable to having Vos go back to singing.

"Yes, it is," said Vos.

"Sir," said Fixer. "That wasn't Basic."

"It was."

"No –"

"Yes. It's just a basic song every Kiffar learns."

Boss and Fixer stared wordlessly at each other.

The Kiffar grinned, tilted his head back against the wall, and said, "You kids really need to lighten up."

There was a snort of laughter from the galley door. Boss shut his eyes. "Scorch, I thought I told you and Sev to stay on guard."

"We are on guard!" protested Scorch.

"Yeah," muttered Sev from just outside the door. "Best position is here. We can see the mansion and the airfield."

Quinlan Vos got up, cracked his fingers loudly, making Fixer wince, and slapped Boss companionably on the shoulder. "On guard? Are we in enemy territory, Sev?"

Well, at least he appeared to be recognizing them now.

"Unknown, sir," Sev answered. "The Neimoidians might be unfriendly."

Vos rubbed his jaw. "Weird. They were pretty friendly when I talked to them."

"We think they tried to poison you," Boss explained.

"Is that right." The Kiffar's eyes narrowed. "Maybe I should go pay 'em another visit."

"No, sir," said Boss. "General Kenobi's already –"

The Jedi clapped his hands together. "Kenobi? Kenobi as in Obi Kenobi? What's he doing here, anyway?"

". . . He's investigating the Neimoidians," said Boss.

"Then why are we sitting around here? Let's go join him!"

Boss cast him a look. "General, we were ordered to wait here with you."

"I mean." The Jedi grinned, not looking at all drugged, which was somehow more unsettling than if the reverse had been true. "You were ordered to wait here. I wasn't."

"Scorch, lock the doors," said Boss.

Quinlan Vos frowned. His gaze flickered back and forth, as though he were reading text inside his mind, and then a look of understanding crossed his face. "You're trying to keep me here – which means you captured me, right? Fine. What do you want? Whatever the price is, I promise I won't pay it."

"Sir, we don't want anything," said Fixer. "We're just waiting until General Kenobi gets back."

"Huh. So he ordered my capture?" A calculating gleam entered his eyes. "I told him that would never happen again . . ."

He moved purposefully toward the door.

Boss hurried to block his escape, conscious of Sev and Scorch hovering behind him as he said, "General, please stand down."

Vos tilted his head from one side to the other, as though thinking, then gave a decisive nod. "Sure, Boss, I can do that."

He flipped backwards and stood on his hands.

Scorch laughed outright, and Sev elbowed him insincerely. "Watch it."

Fixer was smirking openly.

Boss kept his face straight and wondered when General Kenobi would get back.

Vos flipped back to his feet and straightened with a bounce, brushing his hands off as he considered Boss. "You just going to stand there all day? I've got Kenobis to arrest and Neimoidians to poison."

Boss whirled on Scorch and Sev and signed for them to not answer. If they let Vos know that Fols was here . . . He eyed the chronometer. Kenobi might be back soon, or he might be gone a while longer. "General," he said. "Why don't you play another round of sabacc?"

"Because I've got a better idea," Vos grinned.

Boss waited.

The Jedi took a step closer and lowered his voice. "We lay a trap."

"Who for, sir?" Scorch asked curiously.

"Obi-Wan. He got me put in prison back on Coruscant, and now he's doing it again, which is totally unfair. I never got him back for last time."

"General . . ." said Fixer.

The Jedi clapped his hands together. "Okay. Boss, you're with me with me. Let's arrest Kenobi and tell Fox he tried to sabotage the mission."

Boss stared at him uncomprehendingly, since he was, in fact, actively trying not to comprehend his words.

"You don't know Fox?" Vos glanced from Boss to Scorch to Sev and finally to Fixer, who was wearing a rather blank expression. "He's a clone commander, like – Cody – right?"

This much was true. Boss said nothing because remaining silent was safer than sparking any new ideas. He was still worried about the 'poisoning Neimoidians' part of Quinlan's speech. . .

Vos sniffed. "You'd know him if you met him. Fox is kind of grouchy, runs the CG, gets really mad if you steal his caf or pretend to be drunk."

That – was not what Boss had heard about Fox. He'd heard that the head of the Coruscant Guard was incredibly competent. Then again, Boss was incredibly competent, and he'd done some – less-than-professional things. That wrestling match with Sev over the last frosted pastry came to mind . . .

"Well, feeling annoyed can happen to anyone," Scorch said wisely. "Like Sev. He's always a real grouch."

"Better than being a real idiot," Sev replied.

"Real is better than fake," said Quinlan vaguely. He spun on his heel, tossed his lightsaber hilt, and caught it behind his back. "And if you're going to be an idiot, you should be as idiotic as possible."

Boss turned, caught Scorch's gaze, and signed 'negative', just in case Scorch intended to take the Jedi's words to heart.

Scorch smiled brightly.

Vos swung his lightsaber again. "Hey, anyone care to spar?"

"NO – ah, no, sir," said Boss, a little louder than he'd intended. "There's – not room aboard the Predator."

"No?" The Jedi looked around. "Yeah there is. We just move the table."

"It's bolted –"

"Easy!" Vos ignited his green blade, drew it back over his shoulder, and aimed a discerning eye at the metal legs that connected the table to the floor.

Thirty-Eight lunged forward, grabbed Quinlan's hand, and wrested the lightsaber away from him.

"Give that back." Vos folded his arms when Boss failed to comply. "I'm telling."

. . . What? Boss ignored the Jedi in favor of casting a half-hearted frown at his squad mates. Not a single one of them was being useful. Scorch and Sev looked quite happy to just observe. Even Fixer – Boss hesitated, then cast a second glance at him. Fixer was leaning against the wall, watching the action with an openly amused smirk on his face.

Boss frowned and turned back, trying to reason with the Jedi. "Vos –"

Quinlan spoke at the same time. "Boss –"

They both paused, Thirty-Eight intending to let the general speak first.

The Jedi, though, was staring at him in realization. "Vos, Boss. It rhymes."

Scorch burst into laughter just as the comm rang.

Boss rushed to answer on the speaker system. "Delta Thirty-Eight here."

"Boss," said Cody's voice. "Is General Kenobi in your vicinity?"

The Jedi rushed up and leaned over the sergeant's shoulder. "CODES! Good to hear from you! Hey, I need your help – we've got to arrest Kenobi."

Deadly silence fell.

"Commander?" Boss tried. "Commander Cody, are you receiving?"

A fighter settled down on the landing pad just beside their shuttle. Everyone looked out the viewport. Cody was gazing implacably back at them through the transparisteel of his aircraft.

General Vos waved.

Cody vaulted out of his ship, and Boss obligingly opened the boarding ramp.

Cody sauntered up to join them, hands locked firmly behind his back. "General Vos. I assume General Kenobi is around."

"Who knows," Vos said dramatically. "These guys won't let me arrest him."

Cody raised both eyebrows and turned to Boss, his expression serious. "Why, Sergeant, I'm surprised at you."

" . . . Sir?" said Boss, shaking his head slightly.

Cody waved a hand, taking pity on him. "What's the situation?"

"We've got three hostiles imprisoned in the hold, and General Vos is drugged."

"Amn't," protested the Jedi.

"You're sure?" Cody asked.

"Yes, sir," Fixer replied.

Cody glanced sideways at Vos, straight-faced. "I can't even tell. What was it?"

"Bereglot, sir."

"Ah . . . I thought perhaps it was something naturally poisonous to Plutonians."

Boss frowned. What in the name of common sense do Plutonians have to do with all of this?

The Jedi swiped Thirty-Eight's caf from the table and offered it to Cody. "You know what, Codes, you're starting to sound like Fox."

"Hm." Cody sounded rather unimpressed. "All right, one of you tell me where the general disappeared to, and I'll go fetch him. We've got a score of dignitaries waiting onboard, and Kenobi was supposed to show up and appease them a good half hour ago."

"He went to investigate the Neimoidians," said Boss. "We were ordered to wait here with the general."

A thump sounded outside. "Hey, there he is!" Scorch said, pointing over Cody's shoulder.

It was indeed General Kenobi, running full tilt for the ship with his robes flapping about his ankles as five dozen battle droids pelted after him.

"He's being pursued!" Sev said, hitting the door controls to open them.

Cody did not seem to care in the least. He drew his pistol and checked the charge theatrically before turning around and sending a lazy shot past his general to strike down the lead battle droid. Only then did he move aside, letting the commandos rush down the boarding ramp and engage the enemy.

Vos rushed past them all, snatched his lightsaber from Boss, and plunged into the very center of the group of droids.

"Hold!" snapped Boss, lifting his finger from the trigger.

"Cody!" called General Kenobi in surprise. "I thought I left you on the ship!"

"You did, General," replied Cody, shooting down a couple more.

Obi-Wan jumped onto the boarding ramp and somehow managed to skid to a halt going up the ramp. "Well, then, what are you doing here?" he asked, utterly ignoring the fact that Vos was outnumbered fifty to one.

"You left your lightsaber onboard," said Cody, holding it up.

To Boss' utter shock, Cody turned to go back inside, tossing the priceless weapon carelessly over one shoulder as he did so.

Obi-Wan yelped and raced after the lightsaber. He was forced to perform a rather fancy leap and twirl to catch it, and ended up landing on Vos. The two of them went down in a tangle.

"We beat them!" yelled a droid.

Forty droids, still holding their blasters, raised metallic fists in the air and began cheering in nasally voices. "Yay! We beat the Jedi! Yay! Hooray!"

Fixer took an uncertain step forward, glanced from Cody to the struggling Jedi to the cheering droids, and burst out laughing.

Scorch crept up beside Thirty-Eight and tapped his shoulder with exaggerated caution. "Hey, Boss, am I seeing things, or . . . ?"

"No, he's definitely laughing," Boss deadpanned.

"Hey! Delta Forty." Sev sounded a bit concerned. "Fixer, get a grip!"

Instead, Fixer pointed helplessly at the still-cheering droids and went off into another fit of laughter.

Boss was striving to maintain his dignified silence as it was – he really needed his own corporal to stop laughing before he started . . .

"Quinlan!" yelled High General Kenobi. "Stop stepping on me!"

Boss choked on his own laughter and failed to turn it into a convincing cough.

Vos, who was quite casually standing on Kenobi's robe and preventing him from rising, observed the droids. A devilish smirk crossed his tattooed face as he ignited two lightsabers – a green and a blue.

Cody's smug expression faded slightly.

Boss stopped laughing. Wait, how did Vos get Kenobi's saber?

"Watch and learn, Obi!" Vos announced happily, and he burst into motion, spinning the sabers behind and in front of him while he twirled around, decapitating all of the droids within short notice.

He stopped short, staggered dizzily, and deactivated the sabers. "Uh, that was called the whirlwind. For – for obvious reasons."

Vos tripped a few steps sideways and nearly fell over his own feet.

Fixer was still grinning, but at least he had the appearance of sanity.

Obi-Wan marched over to Quinlan, snatched both lightsabers with a displeased sniff, and returned to the shuttle. His ginger hair was in complete disarray, flopping over one eye as he spoke with dignity. "Cody, I was perfectly prepared to deal with a few droids."

"Yes, sir," said Cody. "I know how much you enjoy running from droids without a lightsaber. But I was not prepared to deal with the dignitaries whom you are supposed to be speaking with at this moment. Oh, yes; I believe there was also something about the Jedi Council being on hold."

"Ah . . ." General Kenobi blinked a few times. "Yes, that."

Boss couldn't swear to it, but it looked like General Kenobi had completely forgotten about the Jedi Council.

Quinlan marched up, looked between the two of them, and said, "What about Fols?"

Boss tilted his head. "Fols?"

"Yeah, shouldn't we arrest him? He tried to poison me and made a deal with Loathsom, right? Hey . . . Loathsom. Seriously, that's a weird name."

"Are you sure of that, General?" Fixer asked, having apparently regained his normal level of control.

"Yeah. Doesn't it sound weird to you?"

"No, sir; I meant about Fols."

Vos squinted heavily. "Pretty sure. He sounded way too happy when he said I was looking unwell. Anyway, let's arrest him."

"Already done, sir," said Boss crisply.

"Yeah," chimed in Scorch. "Maybe General Kenobi could take him and his assistants to the Negotiator."

"Excellent idea," agreed Boss. It would be better than taking Vos and Fols on the same shuttle – he supposed Vos could always pilot his own fighter, but right now it was more likely the Jedi would start shooting at the clouds.

"I'm afraid not," said Kenobi, in tones of false regret. "That wouldn't work at all. I'm not even supposed to be investigating here. My own mission shouldn't take me anywhere near Fols."

"Fair enough, sir," said Cody. "You might as well take Vos back with you, though."

"Good idea!" Quinlan grabbed the hood of Obi-Wan's robe and flipped it over his head. "There, now no one'll recognize you!"

He took a step back and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "On second thought, I dunno, Obi. You really would make a terrible Investigator. . ."

Obi-Wan cast an imploring look at his commander, who smiled the single most uncaring, indifferent smile that Boss had ever seen on anyone, Republican or Separatist. It almost looked as though Cody was getting revenge for something . . . strange.

There was a moment of silence, during which Scorch watched Vos, Sev watched Cody, Fixer watched Obi-Wan, and Boss watched everyone.

General Kenobi brightened suddenly and patted Quinlan on the shoulder. "Some other time. I must return with haste. The Council is on hold, I believe."

Cody's smirk faded abruptly. "General –"

"Thank you, Cody, I will take your fighter back to the Negotiator." And the general hopped into the X-wing, powered it up, and took off.

Boss was slightly impressed by the supercilious look Kenobi managed to send down at Cody as he soared past.

Cody frowned, but recovered quickly. "General Vos will, of course, have to wait for a medical evaluation on the Negotiator," he said.

"Of course, sir," Boss said.

Everyone trailed onto the shuttle, and Fixer went to the cockpit.

Scorch made scalding hot caf and passed it around – Sev swallowed down a couple of gulps without waiting for it to cool at all, making Scorch wince. Boss sipped his own caf a bit more slowly.

Cody accepted a mug, but held it absently, staring off into space while Quinlan wandered about the room, humming and occasionally tapping or brushing at the walls with one hand.

Fixer entered the room and walked over to join the others. "Boss, we'll be –"

Vos rushed at him from behind and threw his arms joyfully around the stunned corporal. "HIYA, FIXER!"

Fixer froze, stiff as a board, eyes wide with shock.

Scorch laughed so hard he actually fell off the bench and hit the ground on one knee and one hand, somehow managing to hold his caf level while he did so. Sev slapped him on the back in solidarity, almost doubling over from his own laughter.

Boss turned silently away from the spectacle and entered the cockpit. It was not professional to laugh uncontrollably in front of one's superiors . . . Not that it seemed to be affecting Cody.


It was only a six-minute flight from the surface to the Negotiator, but those six minutes made up for their short lifespan by being filled with irregular events. Cody stood against the wall and watched, since it wasn't his shuttle and he had no cause to truly interfere. Besides . . . watching the commandos try to keep up with Vos . . .

Vos had released Fixer, leaving the corporal in stunned silence for another thirty seconds at least while Boss attempted to recover himself in the cockpit. He shouldn't have wasted all that effort, Cody thought; everyone could hear him laughing. He'd pause for breath every ten seconds or so, then apparently remember Fixer's expression, because off he'd go again.

Vos was now playing a very quiet game of sabacc with Sev and Scorch. Sev was cheating openly, and Vos was acting shocked every time he drew a card that he shouldn't have been able to get . . . Considering that Vos was one of the best-known cheats in the entire Jedi Order, Cody found that incredible.

"Hey!" Scorch said. "Sev, there are only four threes in the deck, and I have all of them! How can you possibly have another?"

Sev stared from the cards to Scorch and back. "Cheating, are you?"

Scorch spluttered in outrage and reached across to take Sev's caf.

Vos caught his wrist. "No. I'm saving that for Fox."

"Sir," said Sev. "All due respect, but you're not." He picked up the cup and drained it.

"But I need it to bribe him," complained Vos. "Also, I win."

Everyone paused to observe the cards. Vos had set down a three, getting the sum he needed.

"Six threes?" yelped Scorch. "There can't possibly be six threes!"

"Luck of the draw," Vos said blandly, then stopped. "Like drawing a gun."

"No guns," said Boss, having composed himself enough to return.

Cody noticed that he was very carefully avoiding Fixer's gaze, and Fixer was very studiously and unnecessarily working at the communications consol.

"Approaching the Negotiator now, General," said Boss. "I'll take us in. The cargo's all yours."

"Understood," said Cody. "Scorch, Sev, you get the prisoners. I'll take charge of Vos."

"Copy that, Commander," said Scorch.

The Neimoidians were escorted out into the hangar, where Boil and Waxer were waiting with a security detail.

Cody commed his chief medical officer.

"Yes, sir?" Stitch answered promptly.

Cody smiled blandly. "I have a patient for you."


Quinlan Vos woke up in medbay. As a matter of fact, he knew it was medbay before he had fully woken, because of the overall feel of the place. He was already bored, and he hadn't even opened his eyes yet.

He remedied that by opening his eyes. He was met with the sight of a clone medic who was sitting at his desk, tapping a stylus against his mouth as he frowned down at the datapad before him. It looked like he was having trouble deciding what to write.

Quinlan stretched carefully, but he felt perfectly fine. He wasn't wearing a cast or stuck with needles or bandaged, so he had probably been – oh. Bereglot. Drugs. Poison attempt which he'd fallen for way too easily.

Well, that's embarrassing, he thought. I definitely checked the ambrosia for threats, but . . . bereglot isn't really a threat to my life. I'll have to be more careful next time.

Live and learn, though. Quinlan got up, fetched his pauldron, lightsaber and cape from a nearby chair, put them on, and straightened his tunic before approaching the medic.

"Hey," he said.

The medic looked up in surprise. "Sir! I didn't hear you."

"That's because I'm a Shadow," said Quinlan with a shrug.

The medic frowned again, then smoothed his expression out. "My name is Stitch, General. I'd like to scan you, if you don't mind."

"Sure," said Quinlan, smirking a little at his confusion. "I don't think I'm drugged anymore, though. I meant I'm a Jedi Shadow, not an actual shadow."

Stitch looked vastly relieved, and that relief only grew when he looked up from his medical scanner. "You're all set, sir."

"Thanks." Quinlan grinned and headed out.

The first people he saw in the corridor were the four Deltas, who were walking away from him, towards the armory. They'd probably just come from the hangar. . .

Quinlan moved silently up behind them. "Hey, Deltas," he said.

All four whipped around.

Quinlan raised both hands. "Hey, the medic cleared me. Just saying hi. Anyone know where Obi-Wan is?"

"On the bridge, sir," said Boss.

"I take it the mission was successful."

"Yes, sir," said Fixer.

"Good." Quinlan thought for a moment. "I could go report in immediately, but I'm sure Obi-Wan's busy with . . . Council stuff."

"Actually," began Scorch.

Quinlan cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No, no, I don't mind waiting. Anyone up for a hand of sabacc? I mean a proper one this time."

"I knew it!" Scorch said.

"What?" Quinlan asked defensively. "Sev was cheating."

"So were you, sir," Sev told him unapologetically.

"Well – yeah, but I wasn't fully conscious of it at the time." He grinned at Boss and Fixer. "Believe me, if I had been, you'd never have noticed."

Boss and Fixer exchanged looks.

"Sir," said Fixer. "How much –?"

"Do I remember?" Quinlan shrugged. "Enough. But I've been drugged with bereglot before. Obi-Wan says that half the stuff I 'remember' from then didn't happen, but I never really believed him."

"Like what, sir?" Scorch asked curiously.

"Oh, like his crashing a fighter . . . us getting caught in a rainstorm and him falling because his robes got way too heavy . . . him shrieking when that weird pink spider crawled onto his face –"

"Quinlan," sighed a voice.

Quinlan turned around and grinned at Obi-Wan – and then at Cody, who was following along behind him. "Hey," he said. "I was just trying to figure out what was real and what wasn't. Last time I got drugged – you remember."

Obi-Wan looked pained.

Cody, on the other hand, looked academically interested. "This happened before, General Vos?" he asked, all proper professionalism.

Everyone present knew it was a lie, but only Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and huffed, folding his arms inside his wide sleeves.

Vos inclined his head. "Yeah. See, what happened was . . ."


Hey, guys! :) I apologize for not updating 'Not Our Style'. I'm kind of stuck on it at the moment, for whatever reason. I'm sure I'll be posting the next chapter within the next couple of days, but I just couldn't have it ready in time for tonight.

Once April hits, I may have to slow down, because April is Camp NaNoWriMo, and I'm working on an original project for that . . . aiming for 2500 words per day, plus continuing to update 'In the Shadows' every weekend.

Then again, sometimes I get a ton of words in one day, so I might feasibly be able to skip a day on the original story and work on Bad Batch. That counts as writing . . . ;D