Imperial Garrison

Mandalore

The three commandos left the interview with the Commander.

"He's no Melusar." Dar commented, as they walked along the corridor. Nobody seemed to be living up to Melusar so far, not in his eyes, not even Kal, who he called Father and he felt bad about that. But he was a father himself and had a son to protect, and that dominated his waking, and sleeping thoughts.

"He seemed better than some we've had." Commented Rede, who really couldn't comment as he'd only known two.

"We'll see. So long as he doesn't stop our 'off the books' activities, I have no problem with him. Let's get to our quarters, get some chow and bed down. Then tomorrow we get the lie of the land. Make the best of it."

.

Darman was shovelling down the spicy noodles like a man possessed.

"You alright Dar?"

Darman looked up in mid shovel.

"I wish you'd stop asking me that. I'm here aren't I?"

"I wish you'd just say, if you're not."

"I will ner vod, I will."

"Rede's settling in well, isn't he?"

"Better than I thought." muttered Darman.

"Have you got a problem with him?"

"No. He just learns scarily fast but never really gives his opinions."

"Hmm. Know what you mean. I'll give him a few more weeks."

"What for?" Darman looked up.

"Not here."

Niner attended to his own noodles.

.

The Talyc Beskad.

Keldabe

Mandalore

It wasn't the oldest cantina in Keldabe that honour went to The Oyu'baat, that was an ancient and looked it. The Talyc Beskad was probably not far behind, it was still ancient.

The commandos were in civvies and Dar swore if Rede fidgeted once more with his collar, he would deck him there and then. Their Commando armour was distinctive more so that the Stormtroopers. Darman had got a few days beard growth and they all had helmets of various types, partially hiding their faces. Although Rede looked like a fresh faced version of Niner.

The place was nearly empty, when they entered, there were only a few raised heads and blasters put on tables. Keldabe was getting used to non Mandalorians being there. The other customers having checked them over decided they were not an immediate threat and returned to watch the large Holoreciever on the wall that was showing a past game of Limmie or, "Meshgeroya" and nothing short of a good fight or some decent "Mando" business would disturb this. They had decided the three men represented neither ...yet.

They left their half helmets on; looking at the shelf behind the bar Niner asked the bartender for three ales.

He eyed him suspiciously, "Netra'gal?"

"What's that?"

"You three new here?"

"Yeah. Construction."

"Try it," The barkeeper pushed a bottle of dark beer, in front of him.

Niner nodded. "I will."

The bartender looked him up and down, as he lifted the bottle and took a swig, letting the mild ale with a hint of sweetness hit his taste buds before swallowing. He knew it was liquid but there was a body to it that the beers they drank on Coruscant didn't have. It didn't leave that tinny aftertaste in your mouth. He had never been able to see the fun in drinking that.

"Brew it myself."

"It's good."

The bar keeper nodded.

Niner placed an Imperial credit chip on the bar, "l assume Imperial credits are OK?"

The bartender picked it up, rolled it between his fingers and looked at it carefully, as if to check its authenticity.

"It's fine, we take anything here. A creds a cred."

He placed two bottles and three small glasses on the bar in front of him. "You want chasers?"

Niner thought he knew what a chaser was but wasn't exactly sure, so declined. The beer was stronger than the bugs piss they had been served on Coruscant.

"Nah we're good." a few more people had walked in and sat at the tables, some removed their helmets, others didn't but many were watching the three men at the bar.

"Any food?" Niner had passed the other bottles out and took another swig from his. He was getting used to the taste, not as bitter as the paler ales they served on Triple Zero.

The barkeeper gestured towards a table with various large steaming pots on it. "Only if you pay."

"Of course."

Niner was speaking as little as possible he wasn't sure if his accent would give him away. There seemed to be a lot he wasn't sure of now. Not like the Republic.

In the corner of his eye, he caught a Mandalorian dressed in green beskar'gam enter the Tap Caf, and the others acknowledged him.

Shab!

"Problem?" Dar leaned in close.

"There, in green Beskar'gam. Corner table, 4 o'clock."

Rede heard but luckily he had enough nouse not to turn around and gawp.

The three sat and drank their ales, as customers watched the game in a seemingly disinterested way, until a goal was scored on the recorded match, which diverted their attention again. A couple of minutes later three bowls of steaming stew and some hard crusted bread was put in front of them.

They all tucked in; it wouldn't look right if they didn't and Darman was not one to refuse food.

The green Mandalorian removed his helmet to reveal a crown of wavy dark blond hair and took a seat at a table; he had been followed by another, in similar colours, who sat beside him and kept his helmet on. The bar keeper brought over two rich looking dark brown beers with foaming heads dribbling over the edges of the glasses. The second man still didn't remove his helmet; he was watching the whole of the bar. It was difficult to determine exactly who he was watching but Niner would bet his life it was them.

"Fenn Shysa." Rede whispered in their earbuds.

"He's bad enough but I'm more interested the one with him."

It took a few minutes but eventually they had all looked.

"A brother" Darman whispered. "An Alpha. He's made us."

"Fek!" Muttered Rede. He was coming out of himself; he understood now what 'brother' meant and was embracing it, in part.

"Maze?" Darman suggested

"No, he's too comfortable. That wouldn't be Maze." Niner dismissed him. "Not a Null either, not big enough."

"Spar or Sull."

"Could be."

The match had reached half time and the players were having a break which meant more people coming to the bar. It had filled up and more were taking notice of who was in there. Several had started a book on the match and bets rang out across the bar.

"We need to get out. If he's an Alpha, on the run, we don't want to tangle with him." Darman rubbed his hand where Sull had bitten him, bringing back unpleasant memories.

They rose, not quite as one and left the bar, as unobtrusively as they could.

"He watched us all the way out. He's definitely made us." Darman groused.

"Let's have a walk round then back to base." ordered Niner.

.

Imperial Garrison

Daro.

A'den, Kom'rk, Jaing and Corr alighted on the landing platform, extinguishing their jet packs. Jaing knelt against the door and started to slice the lock, as Kom'rk scanned for heat signatures on the other side. Corr and A'den covered them.

All well honed, synchronised moves, learned from when they could walk.

"Elek!" Jaing muttered as the lock opened. "Easy."

Walk around as if you own the place.

Kal'buir's instructions still echoed around A'den's head.

Stealth in Urban Infiltrations — it applied here. May not be strictly urban but what the hell, whatever works. They had always improvised, planning on the fly. It's what made them the best, thinking outside of the proverbial box.

"All clear." Kom'rk, on their shared channel.

"Ready?" Jaing asked, he received the assent and opened the door; the corridor was clear ahead.

"Third floor up. There's the lift." A'den wanted to spend as little time as possible here.

He didn't like using the lift but it was the quickest way to the Med bay, unless they blew through two floors and several walls and that wasn't stealth, in anyone's books. Too long in the corridors was not an option.

He called it. Corr to his right, Kom'rk and Jaing to the wall on either side— all ready. It was empty, easy and available. He scanned as he stepped inside, not seeing any security cams, unusual. He was expecting something. It rose silently and stopped on the next floor— the four brothers tensed ready. A'den already knew their fingers were poised, held gently on the blaster triggers, as was his. The doors slid slowly open —two Stormtroopers.

"Sir." They said in unison, saluting and waited. A'den returned the salute. They stepped in, turning to face the doors. The lift started rising again, back to the silence. A'den half expected that mindless Muzak to start up, the nondescript tunes he remembered from the shops and lifts in Corrie. Then one of the Stormies turned to face him.

A'den's finger twitched in preparation, sensing Kom'rk do the same.

"Permission to speak sir?"

"Granted."

"So is that the new jet pack we're getting?" He pointed at Kom'rk's back.

"Di'kut." Corr heard on their channel—Kom'rk.

They all recognised the accent and manner of a Nat born, from wild space, based on the accent.

"Yes. Latest model."

"Neat."

A'den's eyebrow raised automatically, inside his helmet.

"Ever done any jet packing?" He asked, voice gravelly.

"Don't." muttered Jaing.

"Fuck no. Not yet. Can't wait though."

"Best feeling ever." A'den answered, dropping into his role effortlessly. "The feeling of air rushing past you, as you hurtle at terminal velocity towards the ground and then you kick in the jet pack. Because if you don't, the next thing you know is your balls ripped off and flying by your face."

"Sir!" He didn't sound so cocky now.

"Mir'osik!" Muttered Kom'rk, he had zero tolerence.

"Right attitude, you'll do well. Keep it up."

The doors opened, the two troopers saluted and left the lift.

Kom'rk snorted and relaxed, a little. "Keep it up?"

"Not if they're flying by his face." Corr had to say it.

"Sir, Yessir." Jaing mimicked the accent perfectly.

A'den snorted, "Di'kut."

The doors opened again and they stepped out ready, "All clear." Corr confirmed.

"Med bay's this way." Pointed Jaing. They found the room easily enough, it was even identified by a sign on the door.

A'den felt his breathing rate increase as they walked in but it was empty.

Corr manned the door as the Nulls searched around for clues as to where she was. Jaing heading straight to the datapads and machines.

"Nothing." A'den hissed. "No sign of her."

"No but look at this." Jaing scrolled down a datapad left on the counter.

A'den leaned over. "Kamino?"

"Looks like it."

"How did we miss this?"

"How was Kamino and this place kept out of the public domain?"

"No, I mean how did we…miss this. Are we getting sloppy?"

"Bag it there may be something useful on it." Jaing jammed it in his pack. Then turned his attention to the unnamed machine at the side. "This looks like some some kind of scanner—Kaminoan origin." The usual unwelcome memories came up. He captured several images of it then moved away. This wasn't their objective. He was here for his sister.

"Could she be off duty?" Added Corr, from the door, "Just a thought."

"Hmm. This place hasn't been used for at least a couple of days." Kom'rk muttered, passing his forefinger along the counter.

"Where's…."

"I'm looking for her quarters now." Jaing tapped his datapad. "This would be much easier, if we had her tracker details. Got it. Next level up, C wing."

Everything returned to it's place, Jaing and Kom'rk stepped a few paces back, while Corr leaned against the door to one side, blaster poised, A'den the other. He glanced at them, then signalled, three, two, one.

In total synchronisation they moved around the door ready for anything in the corridor—empty— they set off again.

As if they belonged there.

At her room, Jaing sliced the lock and they were inside in seconds. The lights came on low.

Corr on guard duty.

A'den pulled off his helmet and sniffed. "Definitely her room."

"How?" asked Corr, he'd heard the sniff and comment on their private channel.

"They've been fucking for years, he knows how she smells every hour of the day and every day of the month." Kom'rk replied in a low voice. Corr wanted to sniff, wanted to check himself; he knew Jilka had a different smell to him, to his brothers. "Does it change daily then."

Kom'rk didn't reply but turned to his brother, "Say, vod, is she always this untidy?"

A'den's head turned slowly before he replied, "Searched." he didn't like the indications. He checked the fresher; all her normal toiletries were there, albeit on the floor.

Corr glanced inside the room, it had been systematically searched. Drawers emptied, turned upside down, clothes strewn across the floor.

"Medical bag's missing." Stated A'den, "She never goes anywhere without it."

"Two Nat borns, in fatigues." Corr broke in. He stood in front of the door, his DC17-m held gently but ready. They nodded and walked by getting to the end of the corridor before turning to each other then walking back.

"Shab!" Muttered Corr.

"Problem?" Asked Kom'rk.

"They're coming back."

"What are you doing here?" The dark haired one asked, standing directly in front him.

"Clean up." Stated Corr flatly.

"I thought the Commander had said it was off limits until ISB had checked it over." The sandy haired one with freckles commented, "they've not been yet." his eyes fixed on Corr.

"Don't know. Just following orders." He tensed and adjusted his feet.

"You're a clone." The sandy haired one picked up on his accent.

"And?" Corr winced, it came out more belligerent than he intended.

"And clones always follow orders don't they?" The dark haired one asked.

Corr lunged. "Might need some help here." he had hold of one, there were times when his prosthetics were useful.

"What you can't manage two Nat borns," Kom'rk's deadpan voice came through his HUD

"Someone's been training them," Corr muttered through gritted teeth, his breath coming fadter now, as he kicked away the second one, winding him for a few seconds whilst he turned his attention to the one that had finally gone limp under the power of his prosthetics. He dropped him and vibrobladed the other one, who came at him, through the trachea. The trooper didn't make a sound and he lowered him to the floor. Checking the troopers Com, he couldn't see any message but this was new tech he wasn't sure of. He bagged it. Might be useful.

"Good job." Kom'rk confirmed, Neither had a chance to make a sound. Jaing opened the door, leaving A'den and Kom'rk to tidy up. They pulled the bodies inside.

"Where now?" asked Corr.

"Commander's office, if he's any good he'll know exactly what's happened to her."

They took it slowly coming out, just closing when a stormtrooper, came ambling down the corridor, straightening to attention, on seeing A'den.

"Sir." He came to attention, saluted and looked at the door.

"Fek! It's busier than Senate Plaza on pay day." Whispered Kom'rk.

"None of your business soldier. Move on." A'den ordered.

Jaing marvelled at how much like Jango his brother sounded at that moment. The coldness in his voice. Just like when Jango had collared Kal about them teaching Boba a lesson in the fresher.

Do I sound like that?

The trooper had practically scuttled away.

A few minutes later they opened the Commander's office door and walked in, filling the room. He looked up from his datapad.

"It is customary to knock before one enters."

They spread around the office.

"Mhi eparavur takisit, al'verde." you couldn't miss the sarcasm in A'den's voice.

"Kaysh mirsh solus." added Kom'rk.

The Commanders face went white, as the realisation hit him that these was not any of the 'normal' Commandos. His hand moved to a small button but was stopped by Jaing's vibroblade hitting between his fingers, just.

"We're after Dr Baey, where is she?" A'dens voice had that edge now.

Corr smiled to himself, he was going see the infamous 'A'den Anger'; he was glad he had never upset any of them. He'd seen both Mereel and Kom'rk on the edge and this was another Null, who seemed fine on the surface, pleasant but underneath. Hey he could say that of himself.

"Why should I tell you, clone?" the Commander rose to give himself stature, it didn't work.

Corr heard the malice in the voice.

"You're nothing but machines, wet droids at best."

A'den's hand shot out quickly, lifting the Commander off the floor by the throat and pushing him to the wall. An acrid smell hit Corr's nostril's. These Stormtrooper filters were crap. He looked down to the slowly expanding wet patch on the floor and moved his foot out of the way.

"Where?" A'den's voice was icy.

"The traitor's gone. Escaped with another clone."

"When?"

"Two days ago."

The Commander tried squirming, but just gurgled instead.

"Don't struggle."

He stopped.

"Which clone?"

"Does it matter?"

Corr saw A'den restrain himself.

"Did you track them?"

"As far as hyperspace and then their tags stopped working."

Corr saw him being released slowly to the ground. The Commander's last action was to pull at his uniform to straighten it.

A'den's forearm smashed, without warning, into the bone and soft tissue of the Commander's head. Corr watched fascinated as the body and misshapen head slowly slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood and brains that no one could miss.

"One less to exploit any more vode." A'den explained, as he carefully wiped a splash of blood, and brains, off his armour.

.

Hunting Lodge

Mandalore

The fire poured out heat like it was Mustafar but it was needed; the snow and frost were biting hard tonight. Heaven knows what they had eaten; it was something out of the conservator and looked edible, although they didn't know how old it was. But food lasted years in the conservator, argued Coric with himself. They found the old fashioned generator that provided energy for most of the appliances in the lodge; Coric was just worried that they would wake up to the owners and they wouldn't be friendly.

He looked over to Ryssa, she was sitting up and eating more, and looked better than she had done for several days.

"How are you feeling?" He needed to know, so they could start planning on how to get out of here

"Better. Much better."

"Pain?"

"A little."

"Pain?" he persisted.

"It's okay until I move but I need to keep moving."

"Do you need anything?"

"No. I'm fine."

They sat in silence finishing the hot shig he had found, again not sure how old it was but it warmed you up.

"Do you want to talk about what happened in the brig?"

She looked over the top of the mug, "Nothing happened in the brig."

"Not me, the Stormtroopers." he pushed again.

"Like I said, nothing happened."

Okay. So you're playing it that way.

"So sitrep." Coric went on.

"Sitrep?" Ryssa asked, confused.

"We need to plan."

"Yes. Sorry."

"So far — we have shelter, some fuel, some food and clothes. With careful rationing and getting some additional food we could stay a while."

"But?" Ryssa asked, sensing the 'but' in his reply.

"We have no idea exactly where we are, other than the northern hemisphere of Mandalore, the Mountain region and that's based on the weather and observations of the sun and stars."

"So that's what you were doing?"

"We had to learn how to do that in ARC training."

"What about your helmet?"

"Damaged. Its okay short range. I can try and repair it."

"EmDee?"

"Not responsive and not powering up."

"Oh."

"What is that droid to you? You never liked them before."

Ryssa sighed, some of her childhood she didn't like to remember and pushed a lot of to recesses of her memory.

"If it's too …."

"No. It …he looked after me when I was young, a nursemaid, teacher, protector until my mother decided I needed to get out in the real world. And that was a shock."

She took a drink of the shig, quickly.

"You never mention a father." Like a lot of clones he was fascinated with the Nat borns different types of family.

"He was around at first, I think. I have vague memories of him. Can't really picture him. Then he disappeared for years. Never saw him much that I can remember."

"His name?"

"My Mother never said, I never asked and it's not on my registration document."

Coric saw her shiver, he wrapped the blanket around her.

"Thanks but I don't really feel cold. Don't know what happened there. The nearest my mother came to telling me was that he was supposed to be coming to get us, when we were trying to escape Grievous but he never came."

"Fek! That feels like a lifetime ago."

"Yes."

"More shig?"

She nodded.

"Tomorrow we make more plans." Coric tried to be upbeat, as he took the mug from her.

"Where are you sleeping to night?"

"Here." He patted next to him. "Keep the fire going."

She nodded.

.

Mhi eparavur takisit, al'verde. — I apologise, Commander.

Kaysh mirsh solus.— He's an idiot.