It's just like you to fret like you do

So take the afternoon and maybe someday soon

You won't have to worry yourself sick till you're blue in the face

But you'll make ends meet I know you will, so please pull up a chair

And take your time the world's not going anywhere

Honey, you worry yourself sick till you're blue in the face

Blue in the face

'Cause you're always in a hurry

Blue in the face

'Cause you always tend to worry

You're just like a honey bee

You panic, you sting, then you die


Her Pantoran guards didn't ask how she knew that this would be the best place to come to speak to the clones, how she knew the exact address to give the speeder driver to this remote neighborhood of Galactic city. She hadn't needed them the last time she came. She had felt perfectly safe on the arm of her personal guard.

The last time she had worn her hair down. Yes, she had covered her own yellow clan markings on her cheeks with blue foundation and repainted on something more ambiguous. But it wasn't because she was ashamed of being seen with her companion. On the contrary she couldn't have been more proud of the way he served the Republic.

It was just that, well, she never would have been able to take on this moral crusade if anyone from the senate had known. None of them would have taken her seriously. How could she campaign for clone rights if she had been known to have been romantically involved with one of them. Baron Papanoida might have even recalled her back home to Pantora because of the scandal.

It was better if she didn't see him again and maybe he knew it too. Still she hadn't been able to help herself, only a few days after her return to the capital, she requisitioned him to escort her to a formal event. Not that she had really been interested in the opera, but it was a chance to see him again. She had been informed, however, that he was unavailable and had spent the evening alone in her apartment trying to figure out what that meant.

She wondered if he was still the same man she had known. Of course she had heard all about the clones turning on their Jedi generals but she hadn't been there that night to witness it for herself.

The Baron had summoned her home to Pantora for an emergency that turned out to be nothing more than a state dinner designed as a matchmaking scheme involving herself and Papanoida's son.

Ion had followed her out to the balcony of the ballroom to apologize for his father's behavior when the news arrived that Obi-wan Kenobi had defeated Grevious and the war was over but the Jedi had turned traitor against the Republic and then the clones were ordered to destroy them!

It had been impossible to believe then and even now several standard months later with more of the details, she couldn't quite wrap her head around the series of events.

Then Papanoida, who had thankfully given up on marrying her into the family for the present, insisted that she delay her return to Coruscant in the direct aftermath for her own safety. And when she had finally been able to get back to her job of 'senating' everything had changed.

Was it too much to hope that one thing had remained the same? The one person who she had most desperately wished to find waiting for her was… Nova.

"Senator, we've arrived at the address," one of her guards informed her.

"Thank you." She glanced at her reflection, dabbed at the moisture that had pooled in her golden eyes, and pasted on her senatorial sabacc expression.

Senator Riyo Chuchi exited the vehicle and stood before the flashing neon facade of Seventy-nine's. She could do this. It was the least she could do for Nova and his brothers.

She tried to make eye contact with as many of them as possible as she made her entreaty. She would have done anyway even if she hadn't been searching for that spark that she felt every time she had looked into Nova's eyes. She wanted them to know that she truly cared what they had to say and she would make every effort to see to their concerns.

Originally she had planned to ask one of them when she had finished the interview if any of them had heard anything about a brother called Nova but when one of them drew her back into the doorway of the establishment and revealed his secret, her own situation was temporarily placed on the back burner.

"Kamino wasn't destroyed by a storm," he whispered to her urgently. "It was an attack ordered by Rampart himself."

"Why would you make such an accusation?"

"I was there, aboard his Venator. He had us open fire on the cities."

It simply couldn't be possible. She shook her head. "If that were true, the Senate would know. Someone would have come forward."

"Rampart made sure no one could." He was completely in earnest. "Clones who tried to speak up were either reassigned, went missing or ended up dead."

Riyo reached out and touched his arm. "You don't look well, trooper."

"The name's Slip. Check my service record if you don't believe me. CT-0409. You seem like one of the good ones, Senator. Be careful."

Be careful? He had certainly acted as if he was in fear for his own life. And should he be if clones had indeed gone missing or were even killed for possessing this information, for trying to tell the truth?

Could this be why Nova was unavailable?

No! She shook her head. She couldn't think like that. This, if it were true, was a galactic level cover up!

"… The problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans …" the old holo quote flitted through her mind and again she shook it away.

Slip had told her to look up his service record. Why hadn't she thought of looking up Nova's service record? Not now! The truth must be brought to light!

"Is everything alright?" Her guard asked her.

"Yes," she answered automatically. "Everything is fine."

It was not fine at all and she would do everything that she could, starting with bringing the wishes of the other clone troopers to her scheduled meeting with Admiral Rampart but now she couldn't help but wonder if she could believe anything he said.

And under the radar, she hoped, she instructed her own guards to find CT-0904. She felt responsible for getting him to a place where he could be safe and then to stay safe until he could tell his story.

Riyo could hardly stomach her interview with the Admiral later that evening. Oh yes, of course, he said all the right things but there was something about his words that didn't sit right.

She remembered times during the war when she had had similar conversations but had had General Kenobi or Ahsoka Tano at her side. She wished now that she might have their insight into the situation. Or perhaps just one of their lightsabers to stab the lying…

She managed to keep her own sabacc face while trying to come up with the word in Huttese or Pantoran or Mando'a that would precisely describe her feelings for the man at this moment.

She had hardly collected her thoughts after leaving the Admiral's office before she was summoned to another even more interesting meeting. She had long suspected that the Senator from Alderaan would be an ally if she wished for one, but had never guessed he might be so knowledgeable about the issues to which she had devoted herself.

She had no trouble in determining him to be trustworthy. She knew that mutual friends had found him to be such and she was thankful that he had sought her out. Thankful also for his advice.

It only made her more certain that she was on the right track and that she needed to find Slip as soon as possible.

And then she found him. And then he was dead, and there was more blasterfire. And she was running and her guards were shot and then… Captain Rex was standing over her.

"You alright, Senator?"

"Captain Rex? Wha- what's going on?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

So she did and he shared with her what little he knew. They approached the stunned assassin and couldn't hide their shock when they realized he was a clone.

Or, as he called himself before he bit down on a suicide implant, a believer.

"Dank ferrik!" Rex swore and closed the man's eyes. "I should have gotten here sooner."

"You couldn't have known this was happening." She couldn't help but think it was her own fault for leading the sniper right to his target.

"That's not what I meant. I was trying to help a bomber pilot, which took longer than it should have, and then I got delayed with some brothers on an outpost," he sighed. "We can't go on like this. I'm spread too thin."

This was definitely bigger than her own hill of beans, and from the strain in Rex's voice she could tell they needed help, and fast. But it wasn't like she could offer much in their current position.

So she changed the subject. "What about the information Slip gave me, about the proof of Kamino's destruction being on the Venator?"

For the first time Rex smiled. "I do believe I know someone who can help us with that."

"We got the arsenal," Sloan said over the comm as they made their final approach to Iziz. "No complications, thanks to Genna. I don't know what she said to those Mandos but it stopped them from searching the ship. We'll be at the dock to unload in twenty minutes."

"I'm glad to hear it," Dalla's hologram flickered. "Good job, Sloan. And Genna…" The fence paused, processing what Sloan had just told her. "I know you've just come back, but I wanted to ask if you had any available appointments. My hair is in need of some help."

She wanted her hair done? Genna slipped into her professional persona to mask her surprise. A few extra credits certainly wouldn't hurt as she began her new life. "I don't have a salon space but I could do a house call. Would later this afternoon work for you?"

Dalla assured her it would and a few hours after they settled the details of what Genna needed set up and what Dalla would like, Genna finished blow-drying Dalla's freshly redyed pink tips.

"Thank you," Dalla said once the dryer shut off and they could hear each other. "It looks great."

"You can't be without your signature look," Genna said, admiring her work. Honestly it was one of her best dye jobs, incorporating different shades of pink and fuschia to give the hair some depth.

"Aye. I'd much rather be the girl with the pink hair than the girl with the broken nose."

Genna's eyes went to Dalla's nose. It had obviously been broken some years ago and left to heal crookedly, but as someone who'd also been stared at she had never brought it up.

"When I was thirteen my family was on a fishing voyage when a storm blew in. Our ship went down and took half the crew and my mother along with it." Dalla touched her nose. "I was hit with debris during the crash and we don't exactly have a plastic surgeon at the Hold, not that I really minded. I'm not sure I would want it fixed even if it was possible." She rallied and met Genna's gaze in the mirror. "But no one will be looking at it now when they can look at my hair."

"It's definitely eye-catching." Genna had already moved on to sanitizing and packing up her tools. "I changed my hair after my brothers and I moved to Onderon because I didn't want to look Mandalorian anymore. But today I met someone who knew my mother, and I was proud to look like her. It was like she was standing there with me."

"Right." Dalla finger-combed her hair over her shoulders and stood up from her chair. "Before I forget, I want to thank you for your flexibility in helping Sloan with the run. It sounds like you were really invaluable."

"I was happy to help, but I'm not sure I'd make a career out of it. I'd rather keep doing what I'm best at."

"All the same, your assistance is appreciated." Dalla reached into her pocket and handed over a neatly folded piece of flimsi. "You'll probably like this better than the one bedroom place you put a deposit on."

She couldn't...Genna unfolded the flimsi and caught the key card that fell out before reading it. It was an address in Blackhold Isle's port town, commercial property with attached living quarters.

Under regular circumstances she'd have protested it was too much. How could she accept someone just handing her an apartment and the space for her fledgling salon? But nothing was free with Dalla. This was a payoff. The fence may as well have written take your salon and stay out of my network's way as a footnote.

"Thank you," she said through gritted teeth, and only because she knew Dalla wasn't trying to insult her. "Oh, and I guess I have this to thank you for as well. Tech said it was a gift from you and Cid."

She pulled the cord from under her shirt and held out the ring strung onto it for Dalla's inspection. Ellie had told her not to but she wanted to make sure she was on the same page with the Mollymauk. "I wasn't expecting purple, but I love it."

"I, um..." Dalla stammered, unable to take her eyes off the glittering amethyst set in the tiny golden prongs. "You said this was from Cid?"

"It is. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Dalla shook her head to clear it and grabbed up her purse. "It's beautiful. I'm glad you like it."