Admitting of Modification

Anakin started down the dune east of Mos Espa, the newly risen sun casting sharp shadows before him. "What were you doing out here?" he asked Kit.

"Oh, watching the Three Sisters and wondering if we would succeed without you." The sand betrayed Kit and he slid a short distance before regaining his balance. "Somehow I had the feeling that you have to be with us."

"Have you heard from Cody and the others?"

Kit peered at him inquisitively. "They're clones, aren't they?"

"Yes. Some of the last."

"I was starting to suspect. They don't look as much alike as I would have expected." They had reached the foot of the dune. Ahead of them, Mos Espa's domed slave quarters were harshly outlined against the morning sky. "Chatter commed a while ago. The barge was destroyed with all hands and they're headed back. They might even be at the shop already. He requested that we—well, you—do something to free the slaves at the palace. They're ready to help if needed."

"Did they now?" Anakin's tone was wry. "What about the team at Jabba's?"

"Theec sent a message that they completed the deactivations shortly before first sunrise. I'm just waiting for confirmation from Lalla that everyone has been evacuated and the credits have been secured." Kit paused. "I admit I'm curious. Your clones are impressive, but how did they get that vault code?"

"An illegal piece of technology. I didn't ask how they acquired it. And everything else? Are the preparations complete for today?"

"Yes. The network has been deactivating chips all week. I'll meet you outside Jabba's box after you've secured the governor's cooperation."

"Good. Very good. Then it sounds like everything is going as planned."

"The Great Mother has blessed us." Kit's voice was solemn, but the corners of his eyes crinkled with a suppressed grin.

Anakin shot him a sideways glance. "I felt like an idiot when I realized why you were so keen to conclude our plot today."

Kit didn't even have the grace to look sheepish. "The Grand Assembly fell on Boonta Eve. When has that ever happened before? I knew if we were ever going to try, this was the time to do it."

"You and the old legends. What was it Lalla said?—sometimes you're her biggest child?" Anakin shook his head in mock reproof.

Kit bumped his arm. "Says the man who rode a krayt!"

"I didn't plan on that. In any case, with the provisional council's ratification of the Articles last week, the legalities are all in place. The final task is to make everything official with the announcement." Anakin smiled, scars pulling a little uncomfortably. "I knew you could do it."

Kit snorted. "Sure we could. We were never going to manage all those details ourselves."

"Not in the beginning. But the end here?—you did it all without me."

"Because everything was already in the works."

"If I learned anything from the Jedi and the Emperor, it was the value of thorough and flexible plans."

"Strange to think that Darth Vader is freeing slaves now," said Kit, a little disconcerted.

Anakin winced. "Former. But yes." On the words, the plan that had eluded him for the past three days presented itself, fully formed. "Speaking of that—I do need to make a slight change to today's plans. I will arrest the governor this morning before I join you at the arena."

"But—" Kit swiveled his head toward Anakin "—you said we wanted to persuade the Imps this revolution was no threat to their control of the planet. Won't arresting the governor do the opposite?"

"I expect it to."

"You want to provoke the Empire?" Kit stopped in his tracks.

Anakin halted as well. "Yes. It's the opening gambit in my campaign against my master. I intend to lure him here so I can kill him."

Kit shook his head. "You're certifiable."

"Probably. People have been saying that for decades. But I know my master." Anakin narrowed his eyes. "If I seek him out, he'll control the ground when we fight. I'll be at a great disadvantage. So I must draw him here to unfamiliar terrain. If he takes the bait—and he will—he will die." Anakin set out briskly through the still-shadowed streets, Kit scurrying to keep pace. "Today is the first step. We don't have much time. Are you coming to the shop?"

"Absolutely. I can't wait to see how your men react to you changing the plans at the last minute."

Anakin laughed. "I doubt they'll be surprised by that. Only by my name."

"Isn't that how you persuaded them to come?" They had reached the doorway of the shop.

"No. I paid them well. As far as they're concerned, I'm a shopkeeper named Kraytrider."

At the reminder of the events of the morning, Kitster stopped dead again, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a pole-axed dewback. Anakin grabbed his elbow to haul him inside. Scratch and Cody had already disassembled their weapons for cleaning. Dash and Chatter were inspecting the comms equipment by the dim light of the overhead lamp. The only surprise was the Pantoran girl wrapped in a blanket and sitting at the counter between Dash and Hex.

Cody glanced up as Anakin and Kitster entered. "Oh, you're back, sir. Mr. Banai told us you had left town. We were wondering if you truly meant to miss the rest of the operation."

Anakin's grin was predatory. "Wouldn't miss it to be Emperor himself. Did everything run smoothly?"

"You know what they say about plans," Cody replied, inspecting the barrel of his rifle. "But the mission was a success, which is probably what you care about."

"I see you brought someone back with you."

"We couldn't leave her behind, sir." Hex was all earnestness. "Even though the droids were supposed to replace all the slaves on the barge, Jabba brought her out shortly before we were planning to escape. He was—" He exchanged a grim glance with Dash. Hardened veterans though they were, both men appeared shaken by their experience. "We would have brought her anyway, but Yenzon risked her life for us."

Kit caught Anakin's eye with a nod. He pulled out his comm and stepped to the workbench in the far corner while Anakin circled the counter, grabbing a scanner as he dropped his pack to the floor. "I see. I take it the plan really went awry if you were on the barge." He approached the girl slowly. "I assume your tracker is still active?"

She jerked a small nod and shivered.

He held out the scanner. "This will find it and turn it off. Will you let me help you? Oh, my name's Kraytrider."

"The Krayt Rider? Freedom bringer?" she said in a breathy voice.

"Er, well—"

"Yes," said Kit firmly from the corner.

Her breath caught and she rose at his gesture. The scanner beeped as it passed over her left leg. A dancer. Of course it would be in the leg…

He stood up and stepped back. She relaxed infinitesimally. "It's all right now. The tracker is off and the bomb is deactivated."

"Bomb!" Hex jerked to his feet, knocking his stool to the floor.

"At ease, Trooper. Her slave chip has a bomb attached. All of them do. It's the main way slave masters control the slaves."

Kit had barely finished his call when his comm chimed. A staticky voice spoke briefly—something Anakin didn't catch. "That was Lalla," Kit told him, attaching his comm to his belt. "Everybody's out and the credits are secured."

"Congratulations, President. It appears your government will have enough funds to meet its obligations."

Kit rolled his eyes. "If you're arresting the governor, what's the point of paying taxes?"

"A fair point." Anakin set the scanner down and sat on a stool at the end of the counter. "In that case, you'll have more available for economic development and rehabilitation."

"You're a pain in the neck sometimes, Ani."

Anakin snorted. "If that's the worst you can think of to say about me…" He turned to Cody. "Kit tells me you called in a request to free the slaves."

Hex drew a shuddering breath. "I don't know if you realize what it's like there, sir. Yenzon told us Jabba would have her killed if she didn't please us. He expected us to—" he broke off and paced quickly away from the counter— "He just—uses them. Like they're…"

"Property?" Anakin suggested. "Products?"

"Yes," said Dash.

"I think you'll be glad to hear that Lalla's group succeeded in evacuating all the slaves from Jabba's palace. They're hiding in safe locations throughout the desert. Their transmitters have been deactivated and they'll be resettled and reeducated."

"That's good to hear, sir." Hex fumbled for his stool and set it upright again.

"It's been in the works for months."

"I wondered," Dash said with a faint smile. "Your contact code," he elaborated in response to Anakin's puzzled expression.

"I did tell you we had other plans in play." He considered the group. "In fact, I'd like to ask if you'd be willing to assist with the rest of the project."

Before he could explain further, a Togruta man and a Devaronian woman arrived at the shop door. Kit stepped forward. "Thanks for coming promptly. It sounds like she's been through a lot, and a female host will be more comfortable for her." He said to Yenzon, "These are members of our freedom trail. They're going to take you somewhere safe to rest."

"And protect you from any Boonta Eve violence." Anakin rose to fetch a spare cloak. The men averted their eyes while she replaced the blanket.

"It's true?...Freedom on Boonta Eve? My—my people? The others—? They're all safe?"

Anakin nodded again.

"Will I be able to see them again?"

"Of course," said Kit. "In a few days—after things settle down. For now—rest in safety. You can trust them." He gestured toward the Devaronian and the Togruta.

Yenzon laid the blanket on a stool. Dash and Hex rose to their feet. "Thank you for saving my life."

"You saved mine too." Dash examined her gravely. "We wouldn't have left you behind."

"Never," said Hex.

She gave a small smile and followed her guides out of the shop into the sunshine. Anakin switched off the now-redundant overhead light.

He motioned for Dash and Hex to sit down again. "As I was saying, do you men think you'd be interested in more work?" He strode behind the counter. Kit sank onto a seat beside the workbench.

"Might depend on what it is, sir," Cody said, "but this was a pretty good gig. With the bonus of taking out some first-class crooks."

"I suppose, then, that your response depends on what you think of the Empire." Anakin pulled a ration bar out of his pack before he settled onto his stool. He hadn't realized how hungry he was.

The clones looked sidewise at each other.

"I never thought about it much." Scratch rubbed a soft cloth along the barrel and stock of his rifle. "It was my job to fight—first in the GAR, then for the Empire. I'm a soldier. I just did my job, never mind what government gave the orders….Anyway, turns out there wasn't much difference between them."

The others murmured agreement. Dash shrugged. "Though the Empire did one thing the Republic never did—they let us retire. And removed the etyc chips."

"That was Lord Vader," Cody said, setting his own reassembled rifle on the counter. "The order for their removal came directly from him. I don't think the Emperor ever cared enough to think about it."

Kitster glanced at Anakin, who gave a small shake of his head. No one seemed to notice.

"Lord Vader was tough," said Hex, "but say what you will about his command style, he always treated clones like any other trooper. He never acted like we were less human than the vols. I guess I'm not surprised to hear he was the one who made sure we got the chips out."

Anakin stirred uncomfortably. It was one thing to inquire into their general opinions on the Empire when they were unaware of his identity. It was something else entirely to hear their opinion of him personally while he sat beside them. But they wouldn't speak openly if he confessed now. Instead, he said, "Vader is out of the picture. I'm interested in your opinions of the Emperor."

At their hesitation, he added, "I promise—your opinions won't leave this room. I certainly won't report you."

Cody studied him with a familiar penetrating gaze. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he said, "All right. In complete confidence—and I will deny I ever said this if anyone repeats it—I hold no brief for the Emperor. He was the one who triggered the order that—well, an order I didn't want to execute. And he never cared about my brothers. When we were forced to retire, it wasn't because he was grateful for our service—thanking us for saving the Republic's collective shebs from the clankers. He just wanted to have an all-vol force—to boast that the Empire was superior to the Republic because it didn't have to depend on an army bred to protect it. Its own sons would volunteer to serve." Cody's mimicry of the propaganda screeds was scathing. "I also heard through the grapevine that our severance packages were Lord Vader's doing too. If it hadn't been for him, we probably wouldn't have pensions or benefits. So, yeah—I support the Empire because it's politic. But I'm not a big fan of the Emperor."

"Really? The pensions were Lord Vader's doing, too?" Scratch rubbed his scar. "The official letter said it was gratitude from the Empire for our service."

"How long you been in the army, vod?" scoffed Chatter, flicking a switch on his comms console back and forth. "You know the official crap ain't never the real story. Yeah, makes a lot of sense to me that the letter was nothing more than bureaucratic bantha fodder to cover the truth. And if anyone would stand up for the vod'e, it'd be Vader."

"And the Emperor?" asked Anakin.

"Oh, what does it matter to a grunt like me who rules the galaxy?" Hex rubbed his palms against his thighs. "Okay—I'll confess that I've sometimes read a little Rebel propaganda. And they have a point; the Emperor is a corrupt chakaar. But I don't see there's much I can do about it, so I keep my head down and my nose clean and do what I can for my brothers."

"Is that the way the rest of you feel?" Anakin asked.

They grunted and nodded.

Cody said, "I guess that about sums it up. I don't suppose any of us would mourn his loss. But it's just cantina talk, anyway."

"Maybe not," said Anakin. "I'm putting together an operation, and you five would be great assets. But you have to be willing to damage Imperial property and assault Imperial personnel."

Scratch gawked. "The Emperor?"

"Eventually. Immediately—I plan to arrest the Imperial governor here in Mos Espa before the podrace and send him back to Coruscant on a slow shuttle to tell the Emperor that I'm behind it all. I could use a squad as my escort."

Tensely, the clones eyed each other. After a pause, Dash said, "You're dini'la, jag."

Anakin chuckled and winked at Kitster. "You're not the first person to tell me that even this morning, Trooper. In fact, Cody here has said it to me more than once over the years."

"I have?" Cody blinked. "Excuse me, sir, but I'm certain I never met you before this operation."

Anakin sobered. "As it happens, you have. I have deceived you all. When I stumbled into this revolution, I thought I would provide assistance behind the scenes and then retreat into the shadows, but three days ago I learned something that has changed my mind. Now I will destroy the Emperor." He found confession was no easier this time than it had been the last. He clenched his fists until his joints creaked. "I am Anakin Skywalker."

Cody snapped, "General Skywalker died in the purges."

"No, I didn't." Before Anakin could continue, the door to his apartment opened.

"Oh, you're back." The distinctive accent silenced the shop. "Your friend has been trying to find you."

Cody whipped around so fast, he upset his stool. Kenobi stepped forward to steady him.

"G-G-General? But—you're dead. I shot you," he said blankly.

Mando'a vocabulary:

etyc [ETT-eesh] – dirty, filthy
shebs [shebs] – backside, rear (somewhat vulgar)
chakaar [chah-KAR] – corpse thief, petty criminal, general term of abuse
dini'la [dee-NEE-lah] – crazy
jag [jag] – man