Barton IV

Mayday hit the floor, the wind knocked out of him as he was taken down by Zak; seconds later Zak was on top of him, pushing his head sideways to the floor. He had taken Mayday's advice literally— make them eat dirt.

Mayday was thinking of Hela, had lost concentration and was eating dirt.

He squirmed trying to get a grip on the floor to push himself up but Zak held on, keeping him in that position. Mayday's arms and legs were trapped and he couldn't bring them round, he tapped out and then he heard the round of applause from the others as Zak stood up and held his hand out to him. Mayday took the proffered hand and let Zak pull on him slightly, as he rose from the floor.

He'd won that bout and he was smiling. He walked back to the others, to claps on his back, congratulating him on the win. It didn't happen often.

Zak pulled the towel around his neck and turned to look at the man walking away. Something was off with the Commander. He shouldn't have been able to take him down.

"Perimeter run!" Ordered Mayday, without turning around.

The group gave out a collective groan but dropped whatever they were holding anyway.

Zak still stood looking at him, confusion written on his face. He'd taken the win but it still didn't feel right.

"Last one home, cleans the freshers." Shouted one.

That energised them and Zak sprinted to join the others; giving one last look over his shoulder. He was quick; he'd catch up and overtake them. He'd always had to run in his previous life, never being a fighter not until now.

Mayday watched as they ran off; they were a good bunch, young, idealistic; he'd been like that once. One or two still didn't trust him but after the last couple of missions they were coming around. They didn't need to like him. He wasn't here to be liked. These men and women were going to be fit and they were going to survive, unlike some of his brothers. He stretched his jaw out and rotated his shoulder, it was bruised but nothing that wouldn't heal.

He picked up his datapad and towel; down time always got to him, made him restless. But he could try something, a new programme that Zak had set up for him. It was a long shot.

He stood up and came face to face with Finor; he'd been watching. They used his observations to decide on who went on what missions—their best. Sometimes. They were organised just like any military force; they had to be, to win and survive. It was initially Donca's idea.

Finor didn't look happy.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You let him beat you and he knows it. You were winning then you sort of just lost it."

"Perhaps I'm getting old."

"I'm old. You're nothing like that."

Finor thought he knew what it was.

"I'll catch you up quick enough."

Finor frowned, Mayday didn't very often refer to his accelerated ageing; something must be troubling him.

"How old do I look?" He asked, "And really look."

Finor looked, there were wrinkles appearing here and there. Especially at the corners of his eyes.

"Mid thirties."

"I was decanted ten years before the Clone Wars started. I've been alive nearly sixteen years and for every one of your years I age approximately two. Give or take. Some clones look older. It varies. I may only be useful for another ten years if that. Then what. All my life will have been spent fighting, what I was trained for. It's all I've known."

Finor hadn't ever known him like this.

"What's happened? Was it the Pilot?"

Mayday stared at him.

"I saw her go into your quarters."

"I shouldn't ha—"

"But you did. Now what is it? Do you feel guilty?"

"Yes."

"She won't, so get over it. It'll eat you alive. Are you still looking for Hela? Have you found any trace of her?"

"No! Just the old news report of the crash but no bodies. No trace."

"You didn't believe that?"

"No. Zur was cleverer than that. They were both good pilots."

"Perhaps it was what it was. Perhaps it's true."

"No!"

"Perhaps they upset someone."

Mayday narrowed his eyes; it was something he was considering more and more.

"Sabotage!"

"Yes. We know what the Empire is capable of?"

"Zur was very careful. He would check everything. There was nothing on Naboo, according to the reports."

"Reports can be altered. Believe nothing until you've checked it." Finor finished.

"You're not making me feel any better."

"That's not my intention. I just need to get you back on board."

"I am on board."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"Good!"

Mayday wanted to dismiss the sabotage theory for the moment, as he was sure they would have checked the ship over numerous times before they left but it niggled at him and he couldn't quite put it out of his mind.

It was the only logical explanation but what he felt wasn't logical. It never had been.

Mayday looked at his datapad; Zac's new programme.

Finor watched him; he needed to put this behind him. He'd been looking for her since they found him. They needed him fully on board with this.

"If that is what they did…." Finor left that thought with him.

If that's what they did, thought Mayday, then I'll have a new mission. Justice for Hela and Zur.

Finor watched the man. Sometimes he couldn't work out what he was thinking and yet at other times, he was transparent.

He was transparent now; he was coming to the conclusion that Hela was dead.

Finor admitted to himself, it wasn't the outcome he wanted for him. He liked a happy ending as much as the next man but the Galaxy wasn't like that.

"Donca's not well and we have a transmission coming in. Not Fulcrum. This is a favour for Nest."

"Cloud riders' Nest?"

"Yes. Don't know what it was about but it sounded urgent."

"How's Donca?"

"Resting."

"How ill is she?"

"We'll talk about her after this."

"That bad?" Asked Mayday softly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't say that to her. She doesn't want your sympathy, she wants you fighting."

.

The transmission came in on time but it wasn't the Nest they were expecting to see it was the daughter.

"Enfys?"

She looked upset.

"We have been monitoring Crimson Dawn and the other syndicates, and they're expanding." She said.

"Where's your Mother?"

Mayday watched the girl take a deep breath before she answered.

"She's dead. Dryden Vos killed her."

Finor and Mayday glanced at each other.

"I'm sorry for your loss. She was a good woman." Finor was the first to answer.

Enfys swallowed hard, "The best." She replied softly.

"So who's leading now?" Asked Mayday.

"I am." She straightened up.

Other members of the gang moved behind her in a show of support, especially the one called Weazel.

"I want to take him down."

"I can understand the need for revenge," said Mayday, "but Crimson Dawn? How do you intend to do that?"

"By interrupting his supply of whatever is making him a profit."

"Spice?" Asked Finor.

"No, that's mainly the Pykes. At this moment his preferred trade, among other things, is dealing in Coaxium for the Empire. It's price is at a premium and it's supply is controlled but it could be used better by others. For a different cause."

"Rebels?"

"Exactly."

"What do you need from us?" asked Mayday leaning forward. He had no problem with child soldiers he'd been one of thousands.

.

Daiyu

Zur pushed the datapad in front of her. It had taken him weeks of double checking just to make sure. He hadn't wanted to give her this news but Dag had said she needed to know sooner rather than later.

She stared at it, reading the results over and over again.

Zur couldn't read the expression on her face. He had never seen her look like that.

He waited for the fallout.

"It's wrong." She handed him the datapad back and walked to their small kitchen area, "Caf?" She asked.

He followed her.

"It's all there. I can't do any more checks. It was his CT number. The one you gave me. He's been marked as KIA."

"They could have got it wrong." She busied herself making the caf.

"How?" Zur couldn't understand why she didn't see the information in front of her eyes. He had done everything apart from finding the body. He had even found out where it happened. Some Force forsaken Imperial Goods Storage Depot.

She jabbed her finger at the datapad.

"They would never have sent him to a place like that. He was a Commander, a trained ARC Trooper on a top secret mission. Not logistics. Not a grunt."

"Someone had to do it."

"No!"

He didn't push anymore; he needed her to calm down. They had a shift to complete and had to be on their toes. He didn't trust the new boss. There was something different happening tonight; half of the staff had been told not to come in but they were going in.

He wondered if they had been identified.

.

"You're worried." Hela observed, as they walked to the Flying Nuna. It had fast become a popular night spot. Totally different from when they first started there.

"I'm always worried."

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For being a worry to you."

"Doesn't matter. I'd be worried for myself as well." He looked around, "With the Empire."

"But I make it worse."

"I didn't say that."

"No I did. And I'm sorry."

He watched her as they turned into the alley, prospective customers were already being turned away from the main door, grumbling. The Flying Nuna was the place to be now. Durand had turned it around.

"Sorry. Private party tonight. You're welcome tomorrow."

Security were smartly dressed and effective, giving the standard polite response. Big burly beings, all near human or devaronian; no one argued with them. Zur was the only Falleen and appeared to fit in well. But he had made himself fit in everywhere he went.

The two humans on guard nodded to them before they turned left to the staff entrance.

.

Dag was in the kitchen prepping with the aid of the droid; it was not allowed in the main bar, but there were two behind the bar preparing the drinks. But the idea of an organic server was upmarket, so Caesar had kept some on and for some reason which she couldn't fathom, Hela or Fay had been one kept on.

"This for the private party?" She asked.

"Yes. So an easy night tonight." he turned to look at her, "You okay. You look tired."

"I'm fine."

"Apparently these are important people. So be careful. Best smile. Speak when spoken to. They're discussing business, so don't hover too near. I don't think we want to be caught over hearing their business."

"That bad eh?"

"Deadly!"

Dag's meat cleaver hit the flesh on his butcher board, slicing straight through the bone.

"Zur okay?"

"You know he is."

Dag smiled, "Just checking. Didn't know if you two had argued."

"No, we're fine."

"Good. Now check the tables. The droid set them up. It's a full service. They're pulling out everything for this. A matter of honour."

She huffed, that had to be spot on. She had seen Caesar's temper, when a droid had messed up a drink. It ended up a mangled mess. She pinned her name badge on, checking it was straight and smoothed out her clean apron. She could do this; she had been to enough Senatorial dinners on Coruscant even though that felt like a lifetime ago. She wondered if Zur was thinking that they should move on but where? The Empire appeared to be everywhere. It was only a matter of time before it reached here in some form.

.

The back private parlour was sumptuous in its decoration, Durand only held certain meetings here. Important ones. Ones that didn't normally end with blood letting.

He carefully poured the Toydarian whisky into two small glasses; it was from his own supply. He handed one to his near human, expensively dressed male guest but then all his guests tonight were expensively dressed. They could afford to be, the Empire didn't take any cuts from their profits, in fact they profited more from the Empire than they had ever done from the Republic. The Jedi had often got involved in their business before the War. He noted the jewelled pin he wore; it was obviously a holocam. Durand wasn't worried; there was nothing he could see that he didn't want him to. Most of the others would probably have something similar.

His guest raised his glass in a salute and sipped.

"Very good. Pre - Clone War. Nicely aged."

"The others will be here soon."

"Yes. Thank you for making this available for the Summit. It should be profitable for all concerned. It has been decided that the time is now right to expand again. For all concerned. We all need to make a profit."

"Our pleasure. To profit." He raised his glass and took another sip.

Durand watched his guest's face. He was of human extraction but there was something else in there. It looked like slight red scars but under his skin. He had never seen this before on a human, he wondered if he had been augmented in some way but to what end. He had met humans before who had been augmented, usually with some kind of prosthetic. It never usually ended well for them.

"Is there still a problem with the Pyke Syndicate?" His guest asked, watching him closely.

Caesar kept a straight face, no discernible reaction. There was nothing to reveal that wasn't true.

"My aunt has dealt with that and Roland has been avenged. There was only one member. The Pykes understood that he took it too far without authorisation. He didn't see the bigger picture."

"Good." He swirled his whisky around his glass, "And our other business?" The guest asked.

"Organised. You'll see. You can check. Up close. Then you can let me know what you want to do."

"Good!"

His guest seemed satisfied with all the arrangements and they both finished their drinks before Durand stood, "Shall we join the others."

.

Hela checked the long table; it was laid out the old fashioned way. An actual cloth, brilliant white. Glasses. Plates. Silverware. Flowers. She blinked— blue plom flowers. They hadn't opened yet. She checked all the silverware and exchanged a couple of knives that were not clean. That wouldn't do.

Then they were ready.

She stood to the side as she had been told to do. There were three other servers and they were all ready. She gave them a quick smile. They didn't return the gesture. They were all nervous.

They waited for the guests to finish their meeting.

.

The door opened from the Conference room and the guests poured out; all expensively dressed. They could have been Senators in the Republic or Empire even but according to Dag, they were the Heads of various criminal gangs and this was a Summit to carve up their areas.

Hela served trying not to make eye contact with any of them. The other servers weren't so circumspect. Perhaps they had nothing to lose; she knew she couldn't risk it.

She tried not to listen but caught snippets of what they were saying; nothing made sense but there was one humanoid who was bragging how he destroyed a Nest, and laughed about it.

Hela served the brandy and the hand roasted Caf with the others. She stood next to the humanoid who had laughed, waiting to check if he wanted any more. He put his hand over his cup.

"Thank you my dear. Fay is it?"

She finally looked up and made eye contact with him.

"Yes sir."

He watched her closely and smiled. It was definitely her.

"Thankyou for the service. Here take this."

He held out a credit chip.

She hesitated then held her hand out; she accepted tips from other customers. She stared when she saw the amount. "I can't accept this, it's too much." She felt all the eyes in the room on her.

"But I insist."

She watched him; red veins appeared on his face; the inbuilt human response to red is —danger. She felt it, her adrenaline spiked. The table went quiet; he was not a man to say no to.

"Thank you. It's so generous."

She closed her fingers around the chip and backed away, watching the veins on his face recede as she did so.

.

The Cantina was empty apart from Caesar Durand and the man who had tipped Hela. They sat with brandies in front of them.

"So?"

"You're right it's her. Has she sung yet?"

"No, she barely speaks. Does the job well. Keeps herself to herself and lives with the Falleen."

"Hmm. He will be a problem. Zur Dathrar."

"That's his real name?"

"Yes. And she's Hela Nim."

"The singer? Palpatine's prodigy? She died."

"No. She's alive and well, and hiding from the Emperor."

Caesar rubbed his hands, the thought of getting some kind of recognition from the Empire credits for turning her in.

"The Emperor would not be pleased that you have been hiding her. Whether you knew who it was or not."

Caesar opened his mouth to say something in reply.

"But we can take her off your hands. Soon. Just keep her here. Lord Maul will be most appreciative."

.

Zur pushed himself away from the wall, as Hela emerged from the Cantina. He watched her face. Something had happened. He had been on the door all night and heard no problems from inside. It had all appeared to be civilised, despite the large number of psychotic, homicidal beings enclosed in a relatively small space.

But he supposed this was business. He knew how that went.

Business first. Personal second. Never mix the two.

"You okay?"

"Yes. Just a little confused."

"You look more concerned. What happened?"

"I was given a tip."

"What did they want you to do?"

"Nothing. It was just a tip but the amount." She showed him the credit chip.

"Who gave it to you?"

"I don't know his name. We weren't told and none offered them."

"Describe him."

"Human, sort of. Tall. Slim. He looked like he had scars on his face but then they turned red, when I refused the tip."

"You refused it?"

"At first. But he insisted. I thought I had better accept it."

"Yes. Good call."

She put her hand on his arm to stop him walking.

"Do you know who he is?"

"No! I don't." He lied.

She gave him good long stare, opened her mouth to say something then changed her mind

He had a good idea who it was but needed to check something. He didn't like what he was thinking.

.