Dear Reader, first a word of thanks for my steady reviewer, LongLivetheClones. I truly appreciate you taking the time to post such thoughtful feedback. It keeps me motivated to continue posting! Now, this is sort of a quiet chapter to set the scene for what is to come. It also gives another little hint at the history of Saber Squad. Lastly, my musings on clones and their experience with women . . . I like to write such short interludes. Honestly, the introduction of 79s in the Lost Missions opened up so much fertile ground for great clone moments that it totally changed my outlook on clone social life, which you will see more in future chapters. I hope you enjoy! Peace, CS

Chapter 13 Scattered Seed

"This life prepares the strangest things,
the dreams we dream of what life brings.
The highest highs can turn around
to sow love's seeds on stony ground."

Breathe
Midge Ure

"Do you think you can get either one of them running again?" Cody asked.

Zinger tilted his head. "I don't know, Commander. It's a long shot. They don't have anything here to repair these things."

Tip looked up from the speeder he was tinkering with. "I think this one is a lost cause, Sir. Do we have time to go back out and see if there's a better one?"

"That storm was getting close," Cody replied. "I think it's better if we keep working on these. I don't want to risk being outside the walls when it hits."

"Commander, do you think we can take a break for their evening meal?" Zinger asked. "I don't know about you, but I'm famished."

Cody nodded. "Even if we do get one of these running, we won't be able to go anywhere until the storm passes. Yeah, let's head back to the quarters. Au-Ogusta said he'd come get us when it was time to eat."

They walked to the end of the facility; Au-Ogusta had found them space in the Losla stables to work on the speeders. The stables were near the southern gate, so it was going to be quite a walk back to the quarters; and being that it took them past the main house of healing, it was unspoken that they would stop in.

The three of them—all 212th—decided to go visit their own first. They found Little Ride asleep, his deep and even breathing a good sign of peaceful slumber. Not wanting to disturb him, they gained assurance from a nurse who had come into the room, that he was doing very well; and from there, they went next door to see Puzzle, who, not surprisingly, was also asleep after the surgery to set his leg.

And then they went to visit Gernot, one of Rex's troops, who was wide awake and leafing through an old hard-copy book.

"I'm surprised you're not asleep, too," Tip said, as they entered the room. "LR and Puzzle are out cold."

"I'm on my way," Gernot replied. "I'm just waiting to get something to eat first."

Now that he had a chance to look closely, Cody could see what he had missed before. Gernot was drawn and pale; and although he maintained an upbeat attitude, he could not hide the fact that he was struggling to put a good face on it.

"You should have told us you were feeling bad," the commander chastised him.

"I didn't think it was anything to worry about," he replied. "We had guys who were in much worse shape than me."

"That's no excuse," Cody told him. "We look out for each other. Next time, make sure you tell one of us."

"Yes, Commander."

"Good. Now, get some rest and we'll be back to see you again tomorrow."

"Yes, Commander. Oh, Commander? How is the captain?"

"He was doing well a few hours ago, but we're headed to see him after we leave here."

But they did not go next to Rex's room. Instead, they went to visit Echo.

And here, they found an interesting scene. It seemed there was a little party of sorts going on in the room.

Not surprisingly, Fives was there, leaning his shoulder against the wall at the head of the bed. But also present were three sisters and two brothers, none of whom appeared to be performing any duties at the moment; all of whom stood gathered like a well-amused audience.

"Well, this is a popular spot. What's going on in here?" Cody asked.

Fives gave a helpless shrug. "Echo's entertaining."

One of the sisters, a tall attractive woman, middle aged, with angular features and bright eyes, spoke in a voice brimming with mirth. "He certainly is. I can't remember the last time I laughed this much."

Cody raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"He's been telling us stories," the sister went on. "He's very good at it."

The commander looked at Fives. "Stories about what?" he asked, fearing that Echo might be regaling them with accounts of their battles, perhaps revealing classified or protected information.

But Fives' answer put him at ease. "About Domino Squad."

Cody chuckled. "Yes, I guess that would be entertaining." A pause. "I'm no doctor, but I take it this means you're feeling pretty good."

"Yes, Commander," Echo replied, beaming, clearly enjoying himself and all the attention. He'd probably never had so many people so eager to hear him speak. "There's hardly any pain in the leg. Au-Frate said he thinks I'll be up and on the move in a couple days."

"That's fast healing."

"Well, it was already healing pretty well before we crashed," Echo pointed out.

"Hm. Well, don't let me keep you from entertaining your guests," the commander quipped. "We've got a few more visits to make."

He, Tip and Zinger left the room. Fives followed.

Out in the hallway, Cody shook his head in wonder. "I think Echo's found his niche."

Fives was nonplussed. "What can I say, Commander? I never would have guessed it, but . . . Echo is a charmer. Both the brothers and the sisters just can't get enough of him." He looked and sounded as if he could not believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"Well, that's good," Zinger grinned. "That will keep him occupied, and I'll bet it speeds up his recovery."

Fives lowered his voice. "Have you been to see Kix yet?"

"That's our next stop."

"Jesse and Hardcase are in there with him. Pitch told me the doc said he thinks Kix will make it, but I'm not sure the guys believe him." A pause. "Pitch went off to find someone to, uh, to teach him how to pray."

Cody groaned. "Oh, that can't be good."

Tip deferred. "I don't know. Pitch is a pretty likeable guy."

"Yes, but one wrong word could wreck our welcome very quickly," Cody frowned. "Do you know where he went?"

Fives shook his head. "It's Pitch. He could have gone anywhere."

"Yeah, I guess it makes no sense to try and find him," Cody conceded. "Hopefully, he can't do too much harm. Come on, let's go see how Kix is doing."

"A couple well-placed Thermal Annihilator Bombs would work good on that. Hm, it would take at least four tons of CT to even make a crack in the foundation of that one."

It was a terrible habit, and he knew it. A gruesome habit.

He just couldn't help himself.

As a demolitions expert, Pitch saw every structure, every natural feature in terms of the best way to destroy it. His squad mates ribbed him endlessly about his one-track mind, teasing him that there were better tracks upon which to concentrate, tracks with soft curves and many nice things to look at and touch.

Of course, it was all talk, for not one of them had what could be considered experience with the opposite sex. The demands of war left little time for dalliances, and for front-line combat troops, there were not many occasions for socializing with female populations, no matter what planet they were on. Clone bars like 79s on Coruscant had only sprung into being months after the start of the war when it became apparent that there was a good deal of profit to be made from servicing the needs of millions of men in the prime of life, looking for diversions from their highly regimented existence.

But even such watering holes as 79s were patronized mainly by clones, with only a smattering of females—females, the likes of which any self-respecting clone would avoid. Alas, there were many clones with no self-respect and, hence, the smattering had their pick of the offerings.

Except when it came to the 501st.

A sort of elitism had grown up around the troopers of the blue insignia.

The 501st wasn't a unit you just got assigned to. You were chosen, selected. Handpicked by no one less than the most outstanding officer the GAR had ever known, under the command of the greatest general in the Ministry of Defense. 501st troopers didn't consider it boasting or braggadocio when they said their captain and general were the best. Nor did they view their assertions as merely what every clone would say of his own commanding officers.

The legionnaires of the 501st truly and unabashedly believed that theirs was the best unit with the best personnel the GAR had to offer.

And as such, they deserved the best of everything.

Including women.

Just what constituted the "best" of women was something most of them still hadn't figured out.

Pitch, among them. Which explained why, now, as he walked through the botanical garden, he found more to draw his attention among the various buildings (and their destruction potential) than he did among the plentiful and very often attractive women passing by him.

Whether by intent or subconsciously, he found himself standing outside the capella they had passed earlier, the capella wherein the sisters were praying for Kix, as Au-Ogusta had told him and his brothers.

"This is as good a place as any," he said under his breath, and without hesitation, he went inside.

At first, one or two heads turned in his direction, but the prayer was not interrupted. Then, slowly, more and more stole sisters glances in his direction. And still, the prayer continued.

He stood observantly in the back of the room for nearly a minute before edging onto the end of a bench of four sisters, all of whom courteously scooted down to make room for him.

He listened to them chant, two sisters leading the prayers, the others giving responses. Then, they all went from sitting to kneeling, and he followed suit, finding it funny.

At length, he could feel the sister beside him staring at him, so he turned his head to regard her with an open expression, hoping she would take him under her wing. She was an elderly woman, by human standards, probably somewhere in her 80s; but her eyes were clear and lucid as she regarded him unflinchingly.

For a long moment, she scrutinized him; and it occurred to Pitch that she was studying his face. He had not given any consideration to what she—and the others—might think of a man whose shaved head sported a crown's ring of tattoos of various explosive devices. Then again, a religious sister probably would not even recognize what the images were.

A few seconds later, she stood up and gently ushered him out the door.

Pitch thought he was being thrown out, but when the sister drew him down to her level—she was very tiny, he could see that was not the case. She looked pleased and joyful.

"Why have you come to us?" she asked.

Pitch, direct and tactless, replied, "I want to learn how to do that."

"To do . . . what?"

"What you ladies are doing in there," he said. "I want to learn how to pray."

"That is a good desire, a just desire," the sister replied. "Tell me why you want to learn how to pray."

"Because I want to help my friend. I'm willing to try anything."

The sister smiled and the wrinkles around her eyes deepened. For a moment, she reminded Pitch of Ninety-Nine, a maintenance clone back on Kamino, an experiment gone wrong whose developmental matrix had produced a malformed man of rapid aging. Such mistakes happened when the production of millions of mass-produced beings was involved; it was expected and dealt with. A clone brought forth nowadays with such shortcomings as Ninety-Nine displayed would not be given the chance of making a contribution of any kind. Such a clone would be immediately eliminated.

Pitch grit his teeth. How well he knew the dispassionate manner with which the Kaminoans dealt with those in whom they deemed a flaw. Their idea of what disqualified the right to exist fell far wide of any decent moral code . . .

"Stop. Stop, you didn't come here to think about that." He commanded himself silently, then to the sister, "I figure, it can't hurt."

She gave a close-mouthed laugh. "Not the best answer I have heard, but not the worst. Very well, come and I will show you."

Pitch made to open the door to go back inside, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"No, not back inside. Not yet. You are only a beginner."

Cody stood at the foot of Rex's bed. "You're looking a bit better. More alert, at least. Did you get some rest?"

Uh-oh. The surliness was already on display. "Who can rest with all that noise next door? What the hell's going on over there?"

Cody tried not to laugh at his friend's grouchy mood. "Echo's bringing the house down."

"Echo? Echo?"

"He's got a full house," Zinger stated. "And they're enchanted with him."

"With Echo?"

"Believe me, we were just as surprised as you are," Cody confirmed. "He's got sisters and brothers in there, and he's telling them stories about Domino Squad. They're eating it up."

"Incredible."

Cody turned to Zinger and Tip. "Why don't you two head back to the quarters. I'll be right behind you. Be careful, don't get caught out in that storm."

The two departed, and Rex looked at Cody with questioning eyes. "Storm?"

"Another sandstorm."

"Hm." A pause. "So, where do they have you staying?"

"You should see the rooms they have us in," Cody replied. "They're a bit of a walk from here, but they're incredible. This whole place is amazing."

"What about contacting the fleet?" Rex asked.

"We found some speeders we may be able to get into working order," Cody replied. "If we can't get something working in the next day or two, we're going to have to go out by foot or on their animals."

"It'll be better than lying here—"

"I'm not talking about you when I say 'we', Rex. You're definitely not going to be in any kind of condition to go back out there," Cody stated authoritatively.

"I'll be fine," Rex protested. "In a couple days, I'll be ready to go."

Cody pursed his lips. "Huh, I thought you were back in your senses, but apparently, that's not so."

"I've been injured a lot worse than this and was back on my feet in a matter of hours. Don't forget Saleucami—" Rex began, but Cody cut him off.

"In fact, I would rather forget it," Cody replied. "You got lucky, and that's the long and short of it." He returned to the topic at hand. "At any rate, we need to get where they have communications that can put us in touch with the fleet. Otherwise, it's going to take a long time for them to find us. Au-Ogusta said the nearest place with that capability is a city called Heembab. He said it's 7-10 days without a speeder. With one, it's probably less than a day. My plan is to take Moog and Three Point with me. Au-Ogusta will give us a guide."

"I guess that sounds alright," Rex conceded.

"I'm glad it meets with your approval," Cody replied sardonically.

There was a brief silence between the two men, then Rex spoke seriously. "Have you been to see Kix?"

Cody nodded. "Yeah."

"How's it looking? Do you think he's going to make it?"

"He's tough, so . . . yeah, I do. I think he's going to be okay. And probably faster than we would imagine," Cody answered.

"Why do you say that? Why faster?" Rex inquired with a skeptical look, an expression Cody had seen many times before.

Cody inclined his head to one side. "Because there's something about this place," he said with a degree of uncertainty in his voice. "Maybe it's all the attention and care, but it doesn't feel like a hospital. It feels like a . . . like a . . . "

"A monastery?" Rex filled in the blank.

"It's warm and welcoming," Cody replied. "It feels comfortable."

"It's supposed to be that way, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but you know as well as I do that a group of soldiers rarely finds welcome," Cody pointed out. "Here, they seem happy to see us."

"That's good. Right?"

"It's good," Cody concurred. "I'm just afraid our lads might get too comfortable."

"What do you mean?"

"When you get out of here and see what this place is like, you'll understand," Cody explained. "You know how it is for us – we go from one battle to the next. Our idea of fun is beating the crap out of each other at z-grav when we have a few days of downtime. The recreation decks are where we spend our R&R. This place is like something straight out of a dream."

"So, you think the men will get distracted?"

"I don't know if distracted is the word, but I think they can get real comfortable real fast in these kinds of surroundings," Cody answered.

"Then I guess I'd better get on my feet even faster, so I can keep an eye on them, especially if you're going to be leaving in a few days."

"Don't rush it, Rex," Cody warned. "Jesse will be here. He can ride herd until you're recovered."

"Am I interrupting?"

Both men turned their attention to the door.

Doma Maree stood on the threshold.

"No, ma'am, not at all," Cody replied, giving a respectful nod.

She entered the room with much less formality than her previous visit in the examining room – for which Cody was relieved, as it made her presence less intimidating.

"I am coming to see how you are all doing," she announced, approaching the bed with the ease and confidence of someone who knows that she is charge, yet with a mildness that seemed the natural outflow of a caring spirit. "You look well." She did not place her hand on him as she had last time, appearing already assured of the improvement in his condition.

"I'm feeling much better," Rex replied earnestly. "Thank you. Thank your doctors."

"I shall."

Cody looked at her with a glimmer of humor in his eye. "Have you already been to the party next door?"

"I have, indeed." She smiled gently. "Laughter is a good sound in a house of healing. For the patients and their care-givers." A pause. "Au-Ogusta tells me you have found two speeders that may be useful. We have little skill in repairing them, but I can send some of our technicians to see if they can perhaps help. Their area of expertise is working on medical equipment, but they may be of some use."

"We'd appreciate any help you have to offer," Cody replied. "I'd like to be on my way to Heembab in the next day or two."

"I understand. We will help in whatever way we can." She looked from Cody to Rex then back again. "Do your superiors know that you have crashed?"

"They may by now," Cody replied. "I'm sure they noticed once we failed to report in at the appointed time."

"Of course, it wouldn't be the first time we've failed to check in," Rex noted, tongue-in-cheek.

Cody tried not to smile. "Yes, and each time, it was because there was trouble."

The Doma regarded them both for several seconds of what was clearly an assessment. At length, she said, "You said you crashed in the desert. Did you crash or were you shot down?"

The question caught them both off-guard.

It was Cody who answered at last. "We were shot down. By a Separatist warship."

Doma Maree's expression remained serene, impassive. "Do the Separatists know you landed on this planet?"

The commander drew in a deep breath. "We're not sure. We were traveling in hyperspace, and they somehow knocked us right out of it. That should make it hard for them to find us, but we can't be sure."

The Doma was silent for a long time.

Both clone officers were thinking that what had been too good to be true had just come to an end. This community of healers would certainly not want a targeted group of clones in their sanctuary. That was only inviting the enemy to seek them out; and if they were found among these peaceful people, that could end disastrously.

"We disabled the distress beacon on our ship, so the Separatists wouldn't detect it," Cody went on. "But if they see our ship in the desert—"

"The winds of the Sandheim have surely already obscured it," the Doma interjected. "And there are the skeletons of many unfortunate vessels and transports all throughout the sands. Does the enemy have a way to discern your ship from the other wrecks?"

"They do having imaging guides and some other methods," Rex answered.

Another moment of silence. "Were they after you specifically, or did you just happen to cross their path?"

Again, Cody and Rex exchanged heavy gazes.

"It appeared they were after us specifically," Cody replied.

"Do you think they are looking for you?"

Reluctantly, Cody admitted, "Yes, I do."

"Then, you have something or someone they want," the Doma surmised. "Surely, they would not pursue you if you were just . . . rank-and-file soldiers."

"We can't discuss that, ma'am," Cody deferred.

"You do not need to," she replied. After a thoughtful pause, she stated, "You are still in danger, then." Surprisingly, she did something neither clone had expected. She reached out and took Cody's hand in both of hers. "And it is our duty to keep you safe until help arrives." There was resolve in her eyes and firmness in her grip. When she released him, a peculiar grin lifted the corner of her mouth. "Au-Mikiel will be very excited. He has long searched for a way to support the war effort."

Cody was flabbergasted. Looking at Rex, he saw the same confounded expression in his eyes.

It seemed they had stumbled upon the bizarre combination of peace-loving militarists.

"The evening meal is about to be served," Maree announced. "Commander, will you accompany me? Au-Ogusta will fetch the others. I think it would be less overwhelming for you and your men if you ate with me and Au-Mikiel and the elders. The main dining hall can be quite trying if you've never been around that many people before."

Here, Cody and Rex exchanged knowing glances.

"Huh, try eating with 10,000 brothers," Rex said jokingly, although it was the absolute truth.

"10,000 men just like you two?" the Doma squinted. "I think that would be a pleasant, well-mannered meal."

Rex colored and Cody scratched his temple.

"No?" Doma Maree inquired.

"I, uh, I wouldn't want to, uh . . . vouch for the table manners of any of my brothers," Cody scraped.

"Or their appetites," Rex added.

She smiled then leaned over to squeeze Rex's forearm. "We like to see healthy appetites. Healthy minds. Healthy bodies."

"Well, I don't know about the last two, but I can assure you of the first," Cody stated, then to Rex, "I'll be back in the morning to check on you."

"I was going to offer you and your men a tour of the Monastica after the morning meal," Maree informed him. "I want you all to feel completely at home."

"No problem," Cody replied. "I'll make my visit an early one."

"Not too early," Rex grunted.

Cody looked at the Doma with a rueful expression. "Believe me, your people will be begging me to take him off their hands by the end of tomorrow."

The Doma let her gaze drift once more to the patient lying in the bed. He had every appearance of being a good sort of man, reasonable and quiet, polite and respectful. Yet, she could well imagine that, simmering beneath the placid exterior of the moment, was a firebrand whose entire existence revolved around victory. And a man did not win victory or lead others to it by languishing in bed recovering from an injury.

Still looking at Rex, yet she addressed her words to Cody. "I do believe you are right, Commander."

Little shout-out there to Ninety Nine.