Dear Reader, There are some violent scenes in this chapter, though nothing gruesome. Also of note . . . in a real battalion, there would be many captains and many lieutenants, but since TCW doesn't quite follow any military structure, I'm taking some license here. There's only one captain in the 501st - Rex. But he has several lieutenant platoon leaders: Jesse is one. Another is Sixer. So, when you see Sixer referred to as lieutenant, don't be surprised. This is a very busy chapter, so I hope it's not too confusing. Happy reading! CS
Chapter 31 Patience and Power
"Patience is power. Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is 'timing'. It waits on the right time to act,
for the right principles and in the right way."
Bishop Fulton Sheen
The announcement that battle droids were on the way forced Rex's departure from the Seiba Tops. With Hardcase in tow, he followed Au-Mikiel, the ni-Doma, and Maree as they led the way towards the Obelisk.
Five minutes into the wood, Maree pointed up ahead. "There – that's the Obelisk. Go on, Captain. We'll catch up with you in a moment."
Rex turned to regard her warily. "What are you doing?"
"I just need a moment with Au-Mikiel and Kista," Maree replied.
Rex did not accept this as an answer. "What are you doing?" he asked again with more insistence.
"There's no time for this, Captain," Maree snapped. "I have an entire people for which I am responsible. What commands I give to them are not subject to your scrutiny. Go on to the Obelisk. I will only be a moment—"
"I need you to go ahead and stall Admiral Vrehnke—"
"And I will." She put a hand on his arm. "Rex, please . . . give me these few seconds. Trust me. What I have to say has only to do with . . . the religious side of this situation."
It had to be one of the most bizarre and incomprehensible statements Rex had ever heard, but time was being wasted arguing. And the fact was that he did trust her.
"We'll be waiting. Be fast."
As Rex and Hardcase moved on ahead, the Doma turned to her companions.
"Mikiel, I have a task and you must not fail," she said directly. "Go find Merika. She was headed back along the Dayla Run. Get others to help you find her, if you must."
"What am I to do when I find her?"
Maree leaned closer in a conspiratorial manner. "Listen to me, and make no mistake with my instructions. This may be the only chance we have."
"I asked you a question, clone. Are you prepared to live with the suffering you are forcing me to inflict as a result of your refusal to cooperate?"
Sempe's gaze went from the admiral to the translator droid. One was distinctly more tolerable to look at than the other. And as much as Sempe would have liked to toss out a masterful rejoinder, he knew better. Jesse had been clear: do nothing provocative. And so he stood silently.
"Stoic," Admiral Vrehnke harrumphed. "I admire stoicism. Truly, I do."
Beside Sempe, Sixer felt a tingling sensation crawling up his spine. Such inklings, bordering on premonitions, constituted the other half of the story behind his nickname. His predilection for old-fashioned six-shooters aside, he also had an uncanny ability to predict when certain things were coming. A "Sixth Sense", so to speak. Hence, the name "Sixer."
He felt one of those moments approaching, could see it in the subtle shifts in the admiral's stance, even detect it in the collection of grunts and growls that served as Copian language.
And the instant Vrehnke pulled out his sidearm, Sixer was in motion. He sprang towards Sempe, knocking him down just as the weapon leveled with what would have been the corporal's head. The discharge that followed made contact – but not the lethal contact that had been intended.
Sempe landed hard on the ground, Sixer on top of him.
The smell of seared flesh was already filling the air with its rank, metallic odor.
"Sixer! Sixer! Lieutenant!" Sempe struggled—his hands still bound behind him—to get to his knees.
Sixer rolled to his side and onto the ground, coming to rest on his back . A smoking ring of black showed where the shot had gone through his armor in the upper right chest. He was clearly in pain, but to his credit, he maintained his composure and directed his focus towards controlling his breathing.
" . . .'m 'kay," he said in an even, thin voice. "S-Stay calm."
Sempe knew the command was directed at him, and he imagined how he must have looked for Sixer to feel it necessary to say such a thing. Sempe was always calm, always faithful, always in control of his emotions. Even in the face of the deaths of fellow batchers, he'd always managed to hold it together.
And he was determined to do so now. He would not let his lieutenant down.
Admiral Vrehnke shook his head. "Bumpf! That was not a smart thing to do. While killing clones is, admittedly, a fine way to pass the time, I would be happier to cash in on you with the slave traders. Maybe one dead clone would not have been enough to convince any of you to tell me what I want to know; but now, I find that I must kill two of you – just for the feeling it gives me."
"You can kill us all, and you still won't get what you want," Jesse said.
The Copian laughed – or something approximate to it. "That may be true. It is very likely true. Clones hold their lives so cheaply. And so do I." He aimed his weapon at Sixer, helpless on the ground.
"Stop!"
All eyes, including Admiral Vrehnke's, turned towards the sound of the voice.
The Doma emerged from between two scrubby Julpe bushes in a line of foliage that surrounded the clearing where the Perfidio had landed.
Immediately, the droids trained their weapons on her.
"Ah, the holy woman arrives at last. I was wondering how long it would take you to get here," the admiral sneered. "Let her pass."
Maree came forward, but instead of going to Vrehnke, she walked past him and crouched down beside Sixer. She put a hand on his forehead, then after a few seconds, she smiled at him and gave an almost imperceptible nod – a manner of comfort that went beyond the injury and spoke to the situation itself.
Vrehnke looked on with an air of superior indulgence. Why not allow the woman to check on the injured clone? It would only make his death more pitiable when it came, and she would be witness to it.
"Is it your practice to execute prisoners?" Maree asked, standing up and facing Vrehnke.
"If you knew anything about me, you'd already know the answer to that question is yes," the admiral replied. "Although, I do have other plans for these clones. I will turn them over to the slavers and make a tidy profit, while I'm at it. That is, if any of them are still alive by the time this is over."
Maree kept her expression neutral, her voice placid. "Why have you come back here?"
"Absurd question. You know very well why I have come back," Vrehnke replied. "What I would like to ask is . . . how can a holy woman reconcile herself with lying? You lied to me the last time I was here." A snigger. "Fortunately, one of your own people puts honesty ahead of dishonesty. He told me the clones were here."
"Who told you? Who was it?"
"Aggg, tsa-tsa. I can't tell you that. I may yet have need of his services." He strolled a few paces, then turned with well-rehearsed effect. "That is, unless you decide you want to be helpful."
"I want you to leave," Maree replied. "This is a religious community. We are healers. We offer sanctuary to those in need. You could not reasonably expect us to turn the clones over to you." She narrowed her eyes. "You are, after all, the enemy."
"The enemy? Why, that's hardly fair. Had you not harbored the clones, I never would have had cause to come here. You never would have become my enemy. I wished no harm on you or this community. All you had to do was turn them over to me the first time. But you chose not to," the admiral pontificated. "You chose to hide them from me. And now, you aid them in hiding the information that rightly belongs to the Separatists, and . . . they have yet to produce their captain. I know he's here. And probably planning some pathetic attempt to make a stand against vastly superior forces. Ugnh! This is all such a waste of time! I have so many other things that are more important. I grow bored."
"If you have better things to do, then might I encourage you to leave this place and go do them?" Maree said, making sure not to allow derision to come into her tone.
The admiral appeared about to respond, but one of the other Copian officers came up and grunted something into his ear. Then followed a moment of consideration before Vrehnke turned back to Maree.
"The droids have reported that the data pads are not where they should be," he announced. "It appears someone has moved them."
"That is the case," Maree replied evenly.
"Are you expecting me to just pick up now and leave? Bumph! It's too much trouble to search for the data? Why don't I just leave this sand pit without getting what I came for?" He rested his hands on his hips. "Is that what you are expecting?"
"No," Maree replied. "I think we should try to come to an agreement."
"An agreement? Do you see yourself in a position to negotiate?" Vrehnke scoffed.
"In fact, I do," Maree replied. "I have something you want. You have something I want."
"Please, do go on."
"I will agree to hand over the data pads if you will agree to leave here in peace," she proposed. "And the clones stay here."
There was a brief silence before Admiral Vrenhke burst out chortling in scorn. "You think you can dictate terms to me? You think you can drive a bargain with me? Let me show you who is in charge here." He raised his wrist and spoke into the commlink. "Fire."
A cannon blast erupted from one of the Perfidio's forward turrets, obliterating one side of the assembly hall, raising a cloud of dust, burning debris, and rubble.
The force of the explosion sent a jolt through Maree's body, and she turned away to shield herself from the shockwave. When she looked back, the horror, the reality welled up inside her. Yet, she clamped down on any display that might give away what she was thinking, that might give the enemy more of an upper hand than he already had.
She heard a voice raised in anger and fear.
"By the Creator! What are you doing! There were children in there!"
Turning, however, she saw the accusation was not directed at the Separatist general, but rather, at her.
It was Fels Au-Gehen.
Where he had come from, the Doma had no idea. But what she did know—now—was the identity of the traitor. It was there, discernible in his face, in the manner with which he strode out in front of the enemy without a care for his own safety, in the glare of hatred directed at her.
Maree said nothing as Au-Gehen continued on his rampage. "You cannot play games with him! You cannot get the upper hand! These men—" he waved towards the clones, "—are not important to us! They are not worth the lives of our people! Our children! Give the admiral what he wants, and be done with it! This is your fault, Doma! You brought all of this upon us!"
She did not speak right away. So much was going on for her to consider. Had Rex and the others gotten into place yet? Had Mikiel found Merika and done as she'd asked? Was he on his way here now? And yet, looking into Au-Gehen's eyes, she saw the only thing that mattered in that one instant.
He believed his words. He believed she had brought ruin upon them. But he also believed that he had failed – not only to stop the perceived influence of the clones, but in his turning to the Separatists to solve the problem of their presence. He was angry, hurt, and confused. And that made him dangerous. Very dangerous. With all the knowledge Au-Gehen possessed, Maree knew it was crucial to defuse the volatility building inside him.
"Be at peace, brother," she said gently. "This is the work of evil forces. We can prevail over them together."
"What's evil is—is the vice and—and decadence that you allowed these clones to bring within our hallowed walls! I did what I had to do to get rid of the scourge!" He pointed wildly at the smoking assembly hall. "That is your fault!"
"And I will put everything right, brother," she assured him. She looked back to Admiral Vrehnke, who waved his hand limply in front of his chest, as if the whole thing were insignificant to him.
"You see, I have no intention of negotiating," he said. "Give me the data pads and CT-7567, and I will leave here and take all the clones with me, thus eliminating your problem."
"How do I know you won't blow something else up?" Maree asked.
"Why, you have my word, and it's at least as good as yours." His meaning was clear.
"Fek and all! That was an explosion!" Hardcase exclaimed, getting to his feet, ready on the instant in the event an attack was drawing near. "Look! There's a cloud billowing up over there!"
"That's where the assembly hall is," Au-Ogusta stated. He had arrived at the Obelisk less than five minutes earlier with the two dozen requested men and an impressive array of weapons, much to the clones' surprise. Since then, he had been receiving, along with the rest of them, a flash lesson on how to take down a droid.
Rex spared only a glance at the growing plume. He wondered what could have possibly happened that had resulted in an explosion. He'd trusted Doma Maree to keep the admiral occupied for some little amount of time. He didn't know if the explosion was part of her plan or not. Either way, they could not afford to wait any longer. By now, Double Barrel was in place and waiting for them to do likewise. "We're out of time. Let's get moving. Once we get a little closer, Hardcase and I will move out front to recon the situation. The rest of you will wait for us to come back with orders—instructions."
As they began moving forward, it was not lost on Rex that he was leading a platoon of religious brothers into battle.
It was something he could never have imagined in even his wildest dreams. But then again, his dreams had never been very wild to begin with.
"This is the best spot. You can see straight down to the assembly hall from here."
These words were spoken by the brother who had led Double Barrel to the top of the northern parapet of the Taber. It had been a long climb up hundreds, if not thousands, of steps; and yet the man was not even winded.
Double Barrel imagined it must be a trip the man made often, for he seemed to know every step, every door, every angle, and every view within, on top of, and around the temple.
"This is perfect," Double Barrel nodded, testing out various postures for the steadiest and clearest shot. The sights on his modified rifle allowed him to draw a bead on a man's head at two thousand meters. He slid down on his belly to the edge of the cornice between two of the wall rises and tucked his left arm under the weapon, flush with the length of the barrel for more stability.
"Hello, ugly bastard," he murmured a moment later, as he lowered on the optically enhanced image of the general. "Got you right where I want you."
A bright flash of light blinded his scope for an instant, and a second later, the sound of the blast followed.
"What the—"
He lowered the rifle and his mouth dropped open.
Half the assembly hall was destroyed.
"What—what happened?" the brother beside him asked, stunned and staring.
"They blew the fekking thing up . . . " Double Barrel breathed. "They blew it up." He swallowed down the bile in his throat and returned to looking through his scope as the dust settled. Then, although he was speaking out loud, he was addressing no one. "Come on, Captain. Get moving. I'm getting an itchy finger."
Rex crept to the last line of Julpe bushes and cautiously peered through the densely packed leaves.
"The assembly hall's been blown up," he whispered needlessly as Hardcase drew up beside him. "Our men are all outside."
"There's Admiral Vrehnke," Hardcase noted. "Doma Maree's talking to him. Who's that standing there with her?"
"Au-Gehen," Rex replied. "He looks like he's flipped his lid."
"I count forty battle droids. Ten supers. And . . . roughly twenty Copians," Hardcase reported. "No commandoes, so that's a good thing. No rollers."
"Go bring up the others and space them around the perimeter on this side of the ship," Rex ordered. "Tell them to be ready for anything. We don't know exactly when DB is going to take his shot, but once Vrehnke goes down, we need to take out the Copians first. Then go for the droids."
"How many more do you think are on that ship, Sir?" Hardcase asked.
"Not more than a hundred total," Rex replied grimly. "But remember, without Vrehnke, they'll be going in a hundred different directions."
"One more question, Sir? This is a landing craft. That probably means the ship it came from is nearby. What happens when they come looking?"
Rex was not willing to entertain even the possibility at the moment. "One disaster at a time, Hardcase. Now go bring the others up."
"The data pads are already on their way," Maree stated. "When we saw your ship arrive, the clone captain ordered the data pads be removed from the rooms and hidden elsewhere. But I went behind his back and ordered the data pads be brought to me. They should be here any moment."
"Am I to believe that, after all you've done to protect the clones, that now you will just turn them over to me without a second thought?" Vrehnke did not believe her, and with good reason.
"I'm not talking about turning over the clones," Maree pointed out. "I'm talking about the information. I have no qualms about giving you the data – if you agree to leave the clones here."
"If the data is already on its way here, how will you stop me from getting it? Truly, holy woman, you are a fool," the admiral scoffed.
"I trust my god to intervene, if necessary," came the reply. "In whatever way he deems fit."
"Not only are you a fool, but you are delusional, as well."
"Doma Maree!" It was Au-Mikiel calling out. He was running down the path, and his arms were piled high with data pads.
He was stopped by two droids who did a quick scan for explosives, and finding none, they took the data pads and approached the admiral.
Maree watched as Vrehnke took one and turned it over in his bejeweled hands. The Doma had no reason to think the Copian flag officer would accept the data pads and leave without further incident. Yet, there was nothing to be lost in the attempt and possibly everything to gain.
He handed the device to one of the droids and spoke something that the translator droid did not translate.
"You appear to have at least some small amount of sense," the admiral snorted. "But after your deception the first time, I am sure you understand that I must exercise greater . . . skepticism. The droids are checking to make sure the data has not been tampered with." He held out a hand as a gesture, ostensibly, of accommodation. "While they do that, perhaps you will be so kind as to address my second demand."
"What demand is that?"
"CT-7567. Where is he?"
"I don't know who that is."
"The clone captain of the 501st Battalion. According to my sources, he was the only captain on the ship. You mentioned he told you to hide the data pads. I am quite certain you know of whom I speak," Vrehnka said, taking a step closer.
"If you mean Captain Rex, he fled into the desert."
"That is a lie," the admiral snorted. "And leave his men behind to suffer alone whatever fate I have planned for them? That is not something CT-7567 would do. I am sure he is cooking up a scheme even now. In fact, you are probably part of it."
Maree felt a drop of sweat trickle down her back. She was running out of delaying tactics. And it appeared Vrehnka still had no intention of leaving without the clones. And Rex, in particular. Speaking of whom, where was he and what was taking so long to put the sniper plan into action?
Before her, the smoldering rubble of the assembly hall was almost more than she could bear. How many people were inside, injured, needing help, and she could do nothing? How many had died in this attempt to protect the men who were sworn to be the protectors? There still might be a chance Vrehnka would leave with the data pads and all would work out.
"Give the plan a chance to work. Just . . . keep your head."
"Admiral." One of the battle droids approached. "These data pads have been accessed for download."
"Really? How unexpected." The Admiral's tone made it clear that this news was anything but unexpected.
"The information is still present, but it's been downloaded onto some other device," the droid continued. "All of them indicate downloading."
Vrenhke turned to Maree and brushed a hand over his tusks. "Bumph! Bumph! How do you explain that? Peculiar, is it not?"
"I don't know what any of that means," Maree replied, the sweat now starting to collect between her shoulder blades.
"I think you know exactly what it means," the admiral replied. "And I will destroy every inch of this place in order to ensure that wherever you've stored that data is obliterated along with every person within these walls. I hope these creatures—" he swept his hand towards the clones, "—were worth it to you!"
"Stop! This was never part of our agreement!" Au-Gehen shouted, rushing forward only to be stopped in place by two Copians. "You were to take the clones and leave!"
"And we shall," Admiral Vrehnke replied. "I am a man of my word. Once we have ensured the destruction of the data—through the destruction of this entire place—I will take the clones and be on my way. However, I think it will be entertaining for me to watch the two of you witness the end of your way of life. Bumph! Had you both been a bit more understanding of the other's position, you might have avoided this situation altogether. No matter! This is far more enjoyable." Again, he raised his comm-link.
"Primary target. Fire at will."
Double Barrel could see the Austeniens moving into position, directed by Hardcase. He could see Captain Rex crouched behind the line of Julpe bushes. He could see the Doma. He could see Vrehnka. For a moment, he thought his task would be disrupted as Au-Gehen surged forward, but the Copians held the brother back, and Double Barrel's shot was clear.
"Kiss it, you ass-faced pincushion."
The moment he pulled the trigger, something happened around him. It was so fast and so violent, he never even had the chance to recognize what it was. The stone floor below him crumbled, everything was caving in. He was going down, down with stone and mortar and dust and sand. Down into a darkness that seemed to engulf everything. A fleeting thought flashed through his mind.
"Down to my death."
From somewhere beyond sight, from the reaches of the Dreadnaught in orbit, a bolt of yellow light flashed like a thousand suns, striking the Taber. The stepped dome collapsed, its weight bringing down the northern and eastern parapet walks; but the walls – more than three meters thick in some places—held.
Maree stood staring in horror. She raised her hands and behind her closed fingers, she gasped, "The souls . . . the souls." This attack on the sacred awakened in her that which the attack on the assembly hall had not. The panic and anger caused by the latter had been missing the one element that Maree most feared, for it was the one element she had not yet mastered. The sense of justice done in the name of righteousness.
It was not for Maree to render judgment of any kind. It was not for her to render anything other than a temporal punishment for temporal infractions, the sort of thing she did daily with those in her charge. But this would be an eternal punishment for an eternal evil.
Attacking the residing place of the souls . . .
There were a few seconds during which Rex thought he might lose command of his wits. Everything seemed to be rapidly falling apart. It took him but the blink of an eye to recognize that with the strike on the Taber, it was highly likely that DB had been killed. He'd seen a blaster bolt hit the ground behind Vrehnke, and there could be no questioning where it had come from. Almost simultaneously, he'd heard the explosion behind him.
Taking in sight of the Taber and knowing that his sniper was probably not going to be of any further help, he shoved the loss of his brother down where he stored all losses—someplace where they could not touch him—and drew a line with his pistol . . .
. . . but the sites would not stay aligned.
He was shaking.
The air was shaking.
Fek and all, something was shaking, and he didn't know what in hell was going on!
"Doma, no! Doma! No!" It was Au-Mikiel screaming at the top of his lungs.
Rex looked at Maree, and to his eyes, she appeared no different. She stood staring over and past him, towards the Taber. There was nothing in her eyes or her stance to mark that something was going on.
But something was.
Rex looked back towards the Taber and saw, crawling up the damaged outer walls, a sort of pulsating, undulating sea of red-orange light. And even though he was at a good distance, he could see streaks of other more defined figures flashing and disappearing in the cloud of light. It was very similar to what he'd seen on the night of the Finirest, except that this light was not white.
"Doma! Please! Come to yourself! This is not the time! This is not for you to do!" Mikiel was still crying out. "Better we all perish than abuse the power of the souls! Maree! Maree!"
But if she were hearing him, the Doma gave no indication, and the red light continued to climb.
Admiral Vrehnke watched in curiosity. With the weaponry at his disposal, he had little to fear; but all the same, he gauged the distance between him and gangway to his ship.
Mikiel moved towards the Doma, but the Copians held him back. "Maree, listen to me, please! You will lose all those he has given you! This is not the time! I am ready to die! We are all ready to die, but the souls must not be sacrificed for us! We are to protect them! You are to protect them! Maree, listen to me!"
And suddenly, Rex realized what the Doma was doing – or contemplating doing. And even though he did not understand it – didn't even know if he truly believed in the existence of a soul, and if he had, he certainly would not have put animal souls on the same level as human souls—he knew he was in the presence of something more enduring than the trials of the moment, more enduring than the Republic which he served or the enemy he fought. He was in the presence of something eternal, and he was witness to one woman's determination to use it and one man's desperation to safeguard it.
He broke free from his hiding place, every thought of the previous plan now gone from his mind.
"Doma! Stop—"
"Ah! Stop him! Subdue him!" Admiral Vrehnke shouted, recognizing the final piece of the puzzle had just delivered himself into his hands.
Rex made no attempt to stop them as the Copians dragged him down and took his weapons. Still, he continued imploring the Doma.
"Nothing is worth what you're about to do!" he insisted, not even sure himself what it was that was in the making. "Nothing! Not me! Not my brothers! Not the Republic!"
"Listen to him, Doma," Mikiel pleaded, his voice grown calmer. "He is not one of us, yet he speaks the truth. You have been a faithful guardian for over twelve hundred years. Do not let this be the end of that. We will all die, but the souls will be safe. Even if the temple is destroyed, the souls will be safe . . . as long as they are finirested. Send them back, Doma."
Maree's gaze fell to where Rex was pinned on his stomach, his hands being drawn behind his back. Yet, he craned his head to keep his eyes on her.
He made a subtle nod, and it was this that made the fire start to simmer and flitter away in Maree's chest. The fever was abating, and yet the Doma knew the calming was not of her own doing. She owed the saving moment to Mikiel and Rex, the former for reminding her forcefully of her duty, the latter for touching her heart even in the midst of his own confusion.
The fact that both of them had been more prepared than she was to sacrifice everything had been a humbling and a sober indication that she had let her convictions grow soft, that the possibility of accessing the power at her fingertips had only been kept in check for lack of a truly trying condition under which to exercise it.
Now, she watched as Rex's arms were bound like his brothers', he was hauled to his feet and led before Admiral Vrehnke.
"Well, now, that's a shame," the admiral lamented. "I was curious to see what would happen. But at least it brought my final prize out of hiding. I do believe we may now depart this litter box and watch from the glorious reaches of space as my weapons officers turn everything to glass."
The sound of a single bolt of blaster fire rang out.
Admiral Vrehnke fell like a stone.
What the—what? What?!
Rex looked around wide-eyed. Who fired the shot?
Damn!
He hit the dirt in the next instant as the whole place was suddenly filled with the blue, red, and orange streaks of multiple weapons types.
It looked like his plan had not gone fully up in smoke.
One more small note: the name Sempe is a direct bow to "Semper Fidelis" - the motto of the Marine Corps, "Always Faithful." So, Sempe's name means "Always". Just thought I'd throw that out there!