Baron IV

Rebel Base

Donca watched as the clone struggled in his sleep; he was still restrained and had not yet been fully coherent. He was slipping in and out of consciousness. His temperature was good, a little high but when she had discussed him with fulcrum, they had said that was normal. A result of their faster metabolism from the accelerated ageing. So there was no delirium. It was still the injury affecting him.

She sat next to him and checked the line she put in. It was secure but he looked as if he was losing weight and muscle mass. He'll need rehab soon and she wasn't sure she could give that to him.

"Followed orders." He muttered.

She struggled to hear him and leaned closer, "What orders?"

"For what?" He whispered, ignoring her question.

"Expendable." He sighed. "It's no good. Can't be together."

"Who can't be together?" She finally succumbed to asking.

"Expendable property."

"Sorry Hela. Promised."

"Promised who? Hela?"

He didn't reply. After the initial apparent lucidity when he first recovered from the operation there was no improvement. The scans she did, showed the trauma and shadow had reduced and was practically non-existent now. He should be conscious and lucid unless there was underlying brain damage.

She didn't know what else to do.

She had such high hopes for him, for them.

"Who's Hela?"

Then she heard him, humming a tune but he still wasn't conscious.

.

It was a long shot but she used valuable energy, time and data to trawl the Holonet for the name Hela and she thought she had found her. She studied the image in the screen.

"Coruscanti Opera?" She asked herself incredulously. She played the introductions to some of the songs the woman sang. They didn't sound like anything he was humming and the image showed a woman in the heavy old fashioned costumes of the Ancient Opera. It was just a hunch but it was the only thing she had. She did a deeper search for other recordings.

Then she found something that had been uploaded anonymously and watched part of the performance.

"Well! That's definitely not Opera."

"I didn't know you were into music." Finor had entered her office without her realising, "But if it relaxes you."

"I never was and this is from another life."

"Whose?"

"The clone was humming a tune and kept saying the word Hela. This is Hela." She turned the screen around for him.

"Are you sure?"

"No. But it's the only entry I can find that has musical connotations."

"So?"

"I'm going to play some to him. See if …."

"If what?"

"If anything happens. I don't really know what else to do."

He shrugged, "You're the Doc. I'll get Zak to set it up.

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Dex's Diner

Coco District

Coruscant

Hela! Good to see you again." Boomed Dex from behind the counter. He always looked and sounded the same, "And you've brought friends. Wanda will sort you out. I'll be over in a few minutes."

Wanda trundled over, "Hello Hela, hello boys. This one is fine." She showed them to a table, wiping it down before they sat.

Hela slipped in followed by Veetch, who watched the Besalisk curiously. Mayday sat opposite.

"There was no need to thank me for the cloak, I'm just happy you liked it. What do you want to eat? I know you boys are always hungry."

"A Dex Special?" Asked Wanda, her order pad dropping down in front of her.

Veetch watched her cautiously.

"Ooh yes! You'll like that." Hela agreed, Wanda made a note— two Dex Specials.

"The usual for you Hela?"

"Yes please." She replied rather sadly.

Wanda trundled away.

"So what have you boys been up to? I know Cody's been dirtside for a while and he's not happy. Ben's gone for a walkabout, which is worse." Hela said despondently.

Mayday leaned over, "Should you be telling everyone about the General?" He whispered.

Hela looked shocked, then stricken.

"Oh kark! I never thought! Will they know it's him? Dex won't say anything. Do you think anyone heard?"

She looked around at the customers worried they had heard her, it was common knowledge that the separatists had covert agents in Coruscant but they were all more concerned with eating their food.

Mayday took her hand, immediately concerned he had upset her. "I don't think anyone did." He said gently.

"Oh thank the kark for that." She sighed, " Ah, here's your food."

Wanda appeared with two very large oval plates, filled with every type of fried food Dex cooked. She put them on the table.

"There you are boys. Enjoy!" She trundled away again, wiping tables as she went.

Veetch dove into his. Whilst Mayday watched as Wanda put a plate of very green leaves in front of Hela, who stared at it frowning, then he saw Mayday watching her.

"Is that all you're having?" Veetch asked.

"Costume's getting a bit tight and they can't be altered." She said by way of explanation, before spearing something green with thin tendrils.

The clones exchanged glances.

"You can have some of mine," offered Mayday, pushing his plate of deepfried Nuna ribs in front of her. The smell of brown sauce wafted up into her nostrils and she closed her eyes.

"No I mustn't, you carry on."

He didn't need telling twice.

The clones ate, as she chattered away, picking at her green leaves.

.

The three stood outside Dex's. The clones having eaten their fill.

"I have to go boys. It's been really lovely meeting you. We must do it again."

She leaned up to Mayday, beckoning him closer.

"I still need to see your chest hair." She whispered in his ear.

He backed away, a little.

She leaned on tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. Then turned to Veetch, pushing her hand out to shake his. His eyes crinkled, understanding the difference.

"A pleasure to meet you Veetch. I'll see you both again soon." She shook his hand vigorously and walked off.

Veetch watched as she walked away, admiring her swaying hips.

"How on earth does she walk like that in those boots?" He asked no one. "But I think she likes you ner vod." He nudged his CO, "I didn't get a kiss." He complained.

Mayday huffed, crossed his arms and watched her hips sway as she walked along the walkway.

He wasn't sure he wanted to get involved with a natborn again.

"79s?" He suggested to Veetch, he didn't want to go back to the barracks yet.

.

Republic Ship Nexu

Outer Rim

Two white-armored clone troopers met Has Obitt at the exit of the cofferdam that linked the small freighter to the Republic Cruiser.

"Reduced to kriffing babysitting." Muttered Veetch on their private channel, "So much for ARC training. And we had to scrub our colours off."

They had to be unidentifiable.

"When do I get to learn where I'm going?" Has asked, butting into their conversation although you could not see that from they way they moved

"When you get there," Mayday replied. This was still a top secret mission.

Has smirked.

"You guys are never less than predictable."

This man had met clones before, his biography was scrolling down in Maydays HUD, he had checked on him as soon as they saw him.

He was what could be termed a 'rogue', a smuggler, albeit a successful one. Pre war he had worked with several notable Jedi.

"Yeah, we're made that way," Veetch replied.

All the natborns were irritating to him on this mission.

Has was from Dressel, a tall, hairless humanoid with a furrowed face and a deep cranial groove running from the bridge of his nose to the nape of his thick neck. The rest of him was very similar to humans.

They led him down several corridors and through a number of right-angle turns until they arrived at an open hatchway, which they flanked after Mayday motioned him into the cabin beyond.

They followed and stood either side of the cabin door. It swished closed.

Their commanding officer was standing inside; it was the first time they had physically met him. He wore a white tunic over black pants tucked into lustrous black knee high boots.

Mayday snorted his derision at the sight of Lieutenant Commander Krennic.

"Sir?" Asked Veetch, over their private channel.

"Dikut'la uniform! What use is that?"

"Not sure what you mean sir."

"Where has he come from? Which area of the military is his expertise?"

Mayday heard something approaching reciprocating snort from his brother.

"Dressing well?"

Mayday suppressed a snigger.

"Welcome aboard, Captain Obitt," the officer said.

"Thank you." Obitt replied, "Commander …"

"Krennic. Lieutenant commander actually, but thanks for noticing."

Mayday watched the interaction carefully. He scrolled through his HUD sharing it with Veetch; Obitt had a reputation as a pilot to trust with all types of cargo and who had escaped from a number of tight spots.

Obitt had sussed out that their commanding officer was out of place aboard the cruiser. He watched as Obitt relaxed around the Lieutenant Commander but that was a bad move as he would soon find out. Obitt glanced around him; it looked forced.

"My first time aboard one of these," he said, casually, continuing to appraise the ship.

"And?" Krennic asked.

"Uh, impressive to be sure, but cold."

"Do you mean cold as in chilly or cold as in austere?" Krennic was all about the details.

"Austere?"

"Severe. Lacking in comfort," Krennic explained.

"Well, I haven't really seen enough of the ship to comment—"

"Perhaps we can arrange for a personal tour after we're done here," Krennic cut him off. "It's for sale, in any case."

Mayday watched as Obitt looked confused. Krennic may not have led many missions but he knew what he was doing with Obitt. He was obtaining Intel. Mayday listened hard, he and Veetch may need this.

"Business has been all right, fine."

Krennic frowned.

"Just all right, just fine? Are you saying that supply run to Ryloth didn't earn out? Certainly that clever workaround at Christophsis turned a profit, didn't it?"

Mayday and Veetch listened closely; they were worlds their brothers had fought on.

"I'm not too proud to admit when I've been outsmarted."

The corners of Krennic's mouth went up.

"Good for you. Pride is an overvalued quality."

"You obviously know more about me than I do about you."

"I do, Captain. But let's even things up, shall we? What is it you wish to know about me?"

"I'd like to know which Republic agency I'm dealing with, since your uniform tells me this isn't your ship."

So did Mayday. They had been given very little information about this mission, or their Commander and he could find nothing on any of his personnel databases. Not without doing an in depth splice. And he didn't have the time to do that.

"Very observant of you. I'm with the Corps of Engineers. Have you by chance ever put in at Regalia Station?" Krennic asked.

"Corps of Engineers? What the…." Queried Veetch on their shared com.

"Quiet!" Mayday hissed, he didn't want to miss anything despite being able to multitask different conversations.

"Look, Commander, I'm just a smuggler trying to earn a living, like a thousand others in this sector alone."

"Aren't we all! You're aware of course that Merj is a Separatist world?"

"We don't deliver weapons or proscribed merchandise. Strictly equipment and supplies."

"I want to know how these allegedly innocent supplies are delivered." Demanded Krennic.

"I don't follow." Obitt looked confused.

"Walk me through it," Krennic said. "You arrive at Merj …"

Obitt realised what he was after and continued, "Merj spaceport control clears us to land. We land. We off-load the supplies—"

"Do you carry them off or use droids?"

"We do it ourselves."

"With lifters?"

"We use antigrav containers. Two crew members to a container, and normally no more than four containers each delivery."

"How large are the containers?"

"They're standard repulsorlift containers. Two meters by one meter, one-point-five deep."

This was Intel gathering and Mayday took careful note of what was said; it would be useful in their mission if it was down there and it gave him an insight into Krennic, who was more than he appeared.

"The members of your team will have to wear transpirators while on Merj. They're methane breathers. The Morseerians can't distinguish among human faces, so they wouldn't be able to recognize your undercover clone troopers."

"Very good, Captain." Krennic's smile returned. "I, along with a couple of my comrades, would like to become members of your crew for this trip."

"Commander, Merj has been a good deal for me. I don't want to jeopardise a relationship that took me a long time to build."

Krennic glared at him. "You don't want to jeopardise your popularity with the Separatists. Is that what you're telling me?"

"I try not to take sides. I'm just a—" Obitt tried to explain.

"Yes, yes, a simple smuggler," Krennic said dismissively, "But suppose I could promise you in exchange for your service, the Republic would overlook some of your more questionable activities."

Obitt now understood this was an offer he couldn't refuse.

"Get out of jail free, is that it?"

"We'll simply shrug and look the other way."

Has asked the question he didn't want to. "What if I decide the job's not for me?"

Krennic swung around to the observation bay and stretched out his arm. "Pick a planet."

Obitt stared at him, confused. "What, any planet?"

"The one you want your remains shipped to, Captain." Krennic's laugh ended as quickly as it began, and he took a few steps towards Obitt. "You're wondering just what you've gotten yourself into now, is that it?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

Krennic whacked him playfully on the upper arm, like an old friend, "The big time, Has. The big time."

Mayday and Veetch were already checking the Intel on Merj, now they were just waiting for the orders, although Mayday had even more questions over the suitability of Krennic.

"Dismiss!"

Mayday and Veetch hesitated.

"Sir?"

"I said dismiss." Krennic replied exasperatedly.

Veetch's head turned a few degrees to his superior, who stepped forward a step. Krennic faced him, his eyes narrowed. He knew his way of dealing with people would not wash it with the clones. And he had heard they were not averse to contradicting their superiors in the middle of a battle.

Obitt watched with interest the interaction between the clones and their commanding officer.

"Sir. We need to be briefed on the mission. Sooner rather than later."

"What mission is that?" Krennic replied condescendingly.

"This one Sir."

"You misunderstand. You are surplus to requirements."

Veetch heard Mayday grind his teeth before replying, "Is this your first mission…Sir?" Mayday asked with deceptive politeness.

Krennic attempted to straighten up and stand higher, he failed, "Yes."

"Thought so…..Sir!" Mayday' voice was edged with enough derision to be heard but not treated as insolent. He saluted sharply, turned 180 degrees on one foot and marched out followed by Veetch.

Obitt stood in the observation bay and looked out smiling. The clone had made his point. He was not surprised to find Krennic's team consisted of non-clone special ops soldiers assigned to Republic Intelligence. Possibly as a member of the Corps of Engineers he had only limited combat training; the operatives chosen by the lieutenant commander were former Republic Judicials who had participated in peacekeeping operations before the war and numerous missions since.

Obitt sensed Krennic needed someone who didn't question his orders and was capable of getting the job done. He had found that in Matese, a young Coruscanti, tall, muscular and humourless; he was a skilled sniper and demolitions expert. Rumour was he may have been responsible for the assassination of several high-value targets throughout the Core.

Obitt would have preferred working with the clones. From what he had seen these two were what was called ARC troopers. Someone had said they were the equivalent of a one man army. He hadn't believed that until he had seen one in action on Christophsis and he was very impressed. It took a lot to impress Obitt.

He trusted them more than he did Krennic and all his non clones.

.

Mayday and Veetch stood at ease on the Nexu's bridge, observing the mission that they had ostensibly been sent to help with. Commander Prakas had said nothing when they returned to the bridge. They had little else to do. Mayday was still seething at their treatment by Krennic, who they had discerned was not even a combat officer but some sort of pen pusher or engineer. The Nexu had moved into position above the planet, waiting; the smugglers ship had not yet returned to them.

"Lieutenant Commander, we're in position." They heard Commander Prakas say; they had tapped into the coms to hear both sides of the conversations. There were perks to being an ARC and a Commander.

"Right on schedule, Prakas! There were droids and a Settie-class dropship on the surface, although it might be in the air now. When you're done with them, target the Keep."

"Orson, no!" an anguished female voice pleaded,"It's done. It's over with!"

"Not quite," Krennic replied.

"A strike will give the pro-Republic legions an opportunity to reclaim power. What's more, we promised Zerpen that they'd get their ignition facility back."

The Nexu opened fire.

.

Veetch and Mayday walked back to the clone quarters they shared with the detachment linked to the Nexu; the cruiser was in hyperspace, speeding back to the core but without the Lieutenant Commander Krennic and his guests.

"What a waste of kriffing time!" Muttered Veetch.

"There's something off with Krennic." Observed Mayday.

"Sir?"

"Yes Veetch?"

"With respect, perhaps you should drop it. If there is something more, it'll be on a need to know basis."

"We were brought here as ARC's…."

"By an inexperienced officer who obviously felt threatened by us."

Mayday huffed. "So where is he now? What is he doing with those people he rescued?"

"Good question but do we really need to know? We're on our way back to the Core. You may get your own battalion…..See Hela again….properly."

"You're right."

"About seeing Hela?" Veetch pushed his luck.

"About getting a battalion!" corrected Mayday, putting Krennic out of his head.

.