"Are you sure you're up to this?"
He cut his eyes over at her. It was a shame the bucket kept her from appreciating the expression.
"We could wait for Jaing," his partner in crime and justice admonished.
"We could. Or… since we're here and he's not… we could just-"
He lifted both hands, shifted them to the side as if indicating she should accept the boost and take the high ground.
"He's got an LZ. The Wooks are already in place. I'm not weak, cyar'ika."
She just stared at him with baleful eyes as big as the twin moons circling this planet.
"Hey. If you were concerned about my recuperation and PT you should have come with. The offer's been made."
"You know why I-"
Now he cut her off with a quick gesture. He'd heard it. Heard it all.
Appreciated that she felt the need to earn her own way in the world. Not as if she'd be a burden out at Skirata's place.
And, honestly, there was a huge chance that if she ever decided to make that move he'd find a place of his own. Two's company, three's a crowd… how many are out there now? A lot. More than he was comfortable with. He missed the barracks life. Wondered if he might go back to that, to being al'verde when this was done and he found his boy. Got the other four and as many from his company as wanted to join them and made for the hills.
Rude gestures thrown by all as they left the Empire for good.
.
They'd be good at it, at training. He could open a school. Command school, tactics, boarding or advanced training. God knew there were enough adolescents out there in the world who weren't deemed adoptable by the nice folk in the world. Not all orphans were cute and cuddly, babies and toddlers.
Teens, pre-ads, those gangly youths and the ones who'd been on the streets so long they didn't know anything else when 'civilized' folks swept them up and decided to civilize them.
And if the Empire was going to be mining orphanages for recruits, it would balance the scales somehow for him to make sure an equal number were raised with brains and guts and the firepower to balance things out.
.
"Whatcha thinking about so hard?"
Eddies of interest and motivation were swirling off of him so thick it couldn't be ignored.
"That you're going to turn an ankle or fek your knee skipping over these rocks like that."
"I'm pretty sure-footed."
"I'm not backpacking you to Enacca so she can kiss your boo-boos."
"You're just embarrassed."
Well yeahhh. Because every time they'd commed face-to-face the She-Wook demanded he drop trou and show off the well-healed place where he'd gotten stabbed. Shouldn't have scarred but he had the smallest pucker there. Just a dark raised spot. But since he didn't appreciate the beast-mistress expecting him to stand there and strip for her, it was- - in a word- - embarrassing. Especially since his steadfast refusal to do so failed to arrest the requests.
Plus whenever she'd been around a group she'd felt it necessary to explain the nature of the injury- - he'd gotten stabbed during a summertime prison break and exfil. By a bad-wook. In the slim space between his codpiece and thigh plate. Nearly bled out, truth be told, as the sticker had nicked the very iliac artery the bastard had aimed to sever. With a dirty fekking servo so he spiked a fever while his leg filled with blood.
It wasn't going to be a pretty reunion.
"It's cool we just happened to be here, isn't it?"
"Jaing knew we were here. It's why he suggested we roll with it when he and Mereel found the production plant."
"I don't remember working with him before."
Eff no. "Just remember that Mereel is all talk. And don't fall for it."
She snorted out a laugh. Hauled herself up using the vines attached to the rock wall as handholds.
"God's gift?"
"He seems to think so. To hear him and Jaing talk about some of what they got up to you'd doubt there'd been a war going on."
When he drew even with her he reached over to give her rump a solid boost.
"You can use the force, you know. You don't have to prove you're tougher than me."
She flipped around at the edge of the cliff and reached down for him. Used a force boost to haul him up, over, and around. Laid him out flat.
Then the infernal woman just hopped up and dusted her hands like she'd sullied them.
"Point taken," he complained as he curled himself up.
At her gesture he rolled and bellied under some kind of spiny-frond fern. Rubbed Mird's neck when it joined them.
"Lots of air patrol here."
"Lots to protect. Lots of product going in, coming out."
"And now we know they have Wookies working for them."
"Had."
"Might be more. You never know."
"I would doubt it sincerely." Here it was that trifecta of suffering: Trans, Nitko, and Zygerrians. "The terrain is perfect for their sick R&R, though."
Slaves released and told they'd be free if they could reach a beach boasting water craft.
Where were they going, though? The boats were submersible and surface fleet. No hyperdrive capability. And most were piloted by employees of the Trando-Mark Company. False motivation while wealthy Zygerrians and bored Trandoshans stalked them through the temperate rainforest.
For now, anyway.
"Ready?"
She nodded. Took his hand when the overhead patrol passed. Let him fling her off the other side of the cliff to land on the outcropping. Tunnels sank through this landscape like a sickness. Mostly manufactured, harnessing the power of the five-prong water source to generate the silica needed for export of tech components. Win-Win. Beautiful backdrop of recreation hiding the industry. Slave output driven by hydra-power.
"It's dark," she whispered. Dropped the shield on her visor that would make the NV application more effective. Similarly, he blinked through controls in his HUD to activate his own.
"Still undisturbed," he murmured as he reached for the control panel to enter the code they'd bartered to steal.
As they mined the ground in one area they rotated around the sphere like circling pieces of a complex pie. Smart, though, to allow some regrowth and ensure a virtually never-ending supply of raw for the manufacturing process.
He checked his chrono. Clicked at the 'pad in his gauntlet and lifted his helmet to regard her carefully.
She was afraid. He could almost smell it.
"No matter what, I'm going to keep them off of you. Do you trust me?"
"You know I do, Vau. Just like you know you can't make that promise."
"Whatever appears, you concentrate on the ZyGs. I'll take Trannie and Nitko."
"All by yourself?"
When she plopped that fist on her waist and shot that hip out he wanted to bite her. Just to remind her who was alpha.
"I might let the Skirata lads help. One for each of them should be sufficient."
There was a healthy black market here and he'd done some shopping before leaving the mainland. Brought out the flimsy he'd palmed while she distracted the shopkeeper. No sense leaving a trail by having anybody take note of what they bought or looked at negotiating. So here they had a land survey. Original, it looked like. Shafts marked and vents labelled helpfully in Basic. Useful, that, when he laid the holo diagram of known industry over top.
"We're still missing pieces."
"Jaing will get us something. Patience is one of the tenants of Resol Nare."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Munit tome'tayl, skotah iisa," he quipped.
"I hate you."
"And here I thought you worried for me, cyar'ika."
"It was a mistake. I might stab you myself."
"I might let you if it means waking up beside you in a comfortable bed instead of this miserable planet."
She laughed. Long and loud and bright in that cave.
Which was what Skirata's boys saw when they each swung down in turn.
.
Introductions made quickly, Enacca's bevy of compatriots were impressed by the near-identicalness of the clones. Of course, Mereel and Jaing were tripping over themselves to flirt with her and the little female with them.
Not that N'Dara was helping.
"Darrie. Unhand Myyyrakk and make way."
"Her fur is the same color as Mirdalon's." It wasn't. Close. But no. "And her eyes look just like yours. I think she's your love-child."
Walon could have done without the uproar that caused.
Between bashing what he could and couldn't father after the near-fatal stabbing, the verbal assault of wondering whether he'd sired the She-Wook on Mirdalon or if the strill might be another of his by-blows, and then the raunchy suggestion from the other female- - Myyyrakk's aunt or some other female relative- - he was damn close to sealing them all in the next chamber they breached and completing his mission solo.
Alllllll his missions. For all of eternity.
Then N'Dara turned and beamed up at him. "It would be unfair if you had a child that didn't get your pretty hair, though," she murmured softly to just him. Reached up like she'd pet him but for the helm covering his grimaces and grieved groaning. Bent to coo at the strill instead.
Hard to condemn an ass like that to a dark hole in the ground for all of eternity. Hard not to be jealous of the creature preening under her ruined hands.
"Fine, fine, fine," he bitched. "In the meantime…"
"Fire in the hole?" Mereel begged.
"I think that's one hell of a suggestion."
"Eat first. We'll be getting out of here in a hurry," N'Dara insisted.
The Wookies gladly brought forth a bounty of produce and their odd fermented restorative juice concentrate. So they spread something of a skraan'ikase over a workstation's desk.
"Change of plan!" Jaing gulped as his 'pad dinged. "We need to take a minor detour."
His gesture indicated a side-door.
"Why so?"
He held his 'link's screen toward the former cuy'val dar.
"You up to fly out heavier than planned?" Vau asked.
Mereel's eyes were serious as he drained his canteen. "Always."
Enacca's yodeled in agreement.
It made N'Dara's hair stand on end.
"There's a load of Republic gear being stripped as we speak," Vau told her gently.
Her brows quirked in question.
"They've got a fresh lot of soldiers. No details on their condition or unit designation or where they lit from. Nine of them and they're supposed to be sanitized and then presented for purchase orders. They just got sat in quarantine cells. 60 hours. Part of the decontamination process."
"And we're going to get them before we blow out?"
"Yes, ma'am. You good with it?"
"Damn straight."
"Straight this way, then," Jaing ushered.
"You know what would be smarter?" Mereel asked. "And more effective?"
They looked at him.
"Time the charges. We know where they're going to be. They won't check on them. They never do. Don't want to risk catching anything or cross-contaminating the 'units' until they're clean. Get 'em out and load-in the explosives. There's a marking seared into their arms here. Makes them trackable. For the hunts, for the buyers. They're already writing copy for advertising: they don't want to ruin these guys. Primo Prey. Trained to outmaneuver and outlast."
"Sounds like clones to me."
"Yeah, that some sick shabuir is going to try to outwit so he can sight-up on the back of his head."
"So let's take as many of them out as we can. We brought the dust to mark the transports. We can reconfigure the release mech to mark potential players instead."
The larger black male yowled his disagreement.
He came to see some pyro.
"We can still blow the terminal and rig it to take out the quay when it goes."
Vau ran his hand over his jaw. "That works for me. Give us a head start so we're underground before you piss 'em off?"
Enacca agreed heartily. Her transport was one with a black-market transponder. The get-away driver.
"How long have they been here?"
"Tucked into their cells to wait just yesterday."
"Then I say we make sure tomorrow looks a lot brighter for our lads," Vau suggested. Pulled the helmet back on. "Let's move."
When Fyyyshkrr made to clean up their erstwhile breakroom N'Dara stopped him.
"If we leave it, if they haven't eaten well… we'll be coming back out through here, if I'm understanding correctly?"
The male looked to Vau, then Enn.
Their nods of assent sent waves of relief coursing through N'Dara. They hadn't come loaded with the gear they usually brought for liberating prisoners, although one of Vau's first lessons had been to be prepared for any eventuality. She couldn't say why she wanted to pull the troopers into a relatively safe rec room for just a moment's sanity before shucking them over the side of the mountain toward Casa Skirata.
.
"Move it, junior," Mereel called as he hit lights in the first cell. They glimmered to life as the liqui-stun bars shimmered out of existence.
He was moving to the next along that side when he heard Vau curse.
"Cetare to the gett'se?" the petty officer asked sweetly.
"Keep slapping buttons and lets move."
Forget nine fekking clones. There were something more like a hundred guys in here.
"Where'd your intel come from?" he demanded suddenly.
Jaing broke form to whip around.
"Move!" Vau shouted. "This isn't the scenic tour anymore. If you want out get your shebs in gear!"
The crossbow-bearing Wookie gestured wildly. No alarms, no lights, no indication that things had gone osik'la, but his instincts were spot-on.
"New plan: You lot go on to the transports. You're going to have to move slower… break up into smaller groups. First ones out come right back for the next group."
"We'll hit the depot and then the armor dump," N'Dara decided for him.
He eyed her from the vantage of his 360° before nodding at her over Enacca's objections.
"You have your mission, we have ours."
He stooped to slap a bacta patch on a wounded officer. "Stub your toe?"
"Something like that."
"Can you run?"
"Like hell."
"Good lad. We're going to be doing just that in a bit. Get the circulation going and then follow the flight attendant's directions to the VIP lounge."
That made N'Dara laugh as she closed her now much-lightened pack and accepted his hand to rise.
"There's more food and drink this way…"
"We're worn thinner but they actually planned to build us back up," the one closest to her explained. "Some of us are already earmarked for the next level. The clones they want for breeding purposes."
Vau could have done without Myyyrakk's brand of humor as the young native made a deep rolling purr of her tongue and licked her lips in his direction.
His cheeks burned in his face.
They made the large control room when it became apparent their infiltration hadn't gone unnoticed. The bulk of the contingent was already through and away, just these stragglers and the ranking Republic Airman who refused to leave with the more able-bodied. He didn't care how much sense it made to break into groups based on welfare so the quickest among them could get out, get gone, and send the transports back for the less fit. He wasn't leaving subordinates to their fate.
Which Vau had to respect. Dara, too, so he was glad as fek she'd already decided to come his way when they broke into the sun. No sense leaving her as easy pickings to the guy who was so solicitous of her that he'd held open the door and taken her elbow twice.
"So, uh. What's the plan for exit?" the gentlemanly officer asked when they shuffled into the space previously utilized for picnicking prior to unplanned jailbreak.
"What plan?"
The newly liberated mongrel commander jerked visibly at Jaing's response.
"Oh. Shab. We're all gonna die." A regular clone trooper shoved at the complaining RC.
"Could be worse." N'Dara smirked. The thick tail of blue hair swung as she regarded the men around them. "He could have said 'what exit?' instead," she asserted.
Vau sucked in an audibly frustrated breath. Gestured with his hand. "N'Dara Jouselle, everybody," he introduced. "Morale and motivation for today's mission."
"So you actually have a plan for getting out of this?"
"Not to worry," Jaing assured them. "I am an excellent hacker."
The young man looked around the small vestibule where liquid lines of deterrent bars now shrouded both egresses.
"Join me in my office," he ordered boastfully. Gestured them toward the big security desk.
The racket of him tipping the son of a bitch could only be missed if you'd been dead and buried for a couple centuries or so. Then he chose a strip charge, activated it, and looked to be counting on his fingers.
"Oh, gods. We're all gonna die."
It was like the only part of the song whoever knew.
Jaing clicked his cheek reassuringly and flung the charge. The desk? The components hitting the floor as the desk crashed over? Suddenly that was whisper-quiet compared to the noise of that little pop going off. Vau's helmet activated automatically to shutter the external audio and it still made his ears pop in the enclosed space. Dara was shaking her head.
One of the Wookies actually reached out and thumped the younger clone fist-to-helm.
"Check it," he bragged. You could hear him grin as he spoke from the safety of the bucket. Not that you'd have been able to see him even if he were maskless. Not in the thick swirls of dust and dredge. "I got the door open."
Vau's grin broke at the sound of Dara's delighted giggle.
"Off we go, lads," he encouraged their entourage.
Not just Republic Commando POWs being traded here. These wore the scraps of regular—volunteer—service uniforms. So apparently the new Galactic Empire wasn't interested in ransoming back any of their fallen or taken patriots.
Which was a bitch. Yeah, cetare to the gettse. And make it a double-tap when you considered that the clones they liberated were in pristine condition compared to some of these guys.