Special Operations Unit barracks,
501st Legion HQ,
Imperial City
Roly Melusar looked over the report from Mandalore; it appeared full if a little concise but he had noticed more recently the clones were not valued as much as the Stormtroopers. He had found they were excellent, if idiosyncratic soldiers.
He read the report in detail, he always found the details mattered. The whole squad were vaporised in a speeder bike 'accident'; DNA fragments had been found at the scene by the local forensic droids. The Garrison Commander was blaming faulty equipment. Not local insurgents, he noted. As far as Melusar was concerned neither explanation put that Commander in a good light; if the equipment was faulty it should have been checked and maintained better. There was nothing concrete about local insurgents and some Mandalorians were actually working with the Empire but there were whispers that even they, members of Death Watch, as they called themselves, led by Lorka Gedyc had "big plans" for the future, which did not necessarily include the Empire.
Melusar read it through again, for the details. He had checked many such reports in his years doing this kind of work and wrote some himself. There were ways of saying things that meant something else. These were highly trained men and part of him said this was not right. There was something wrong, something was missing.
These men may not have families to question what happened but he wanted a better explanation of their deaths. He knew it wasn't Imperial Policy and they were only clones in some people's eyes but he had his own way of doing things.
He checked the current missions; Vader and the remnants if the 501st were somewhere unspecified and had been for a few days. Not that he interfered much with Melusar but he wasn't to be trusted— he was a Force user very much like the ones on his home planet and it was best to keep under his radar from what he had observed. He had no respect for Imperial Officers.
He pressed his desk com, "Sergeant, get me a shuttle and pilot. I'm going to Mandalore."
"Yes sir." There was a pause, "Just a pilot?"
"Yes!"
He let the button go, "I want to see that crash site." He said more to himself than anybody. He checked the roster, looking for any Mandalorian trained Commando's left in his command.
He found two. The squad had been left as a two man squad despite his reservations and they had argued against incorporating another Spaarti clone, saying they were not like the other Mandalorian trained squads. He could have pushed it but he kept them operating as a two man squad, still getting exceptional results which validated their argument.
The number of his Clone Commandos had been decimated by various secret sections of the Empire; they received their orders and he often wasn't included.
He gathered his flimzi work together and pressed a button on his desk; a secret compartment opened and his most important items went in there. It closed leaving no trace of compartment. He had an antique flimzi shredder underneath his desk. The rest went in there, then the shredded item to the disintegrator to be reduced to atoms.
He trusted no one, especially Force users and there were still too many of those about.
He would not feel safe until they had all been purged from the Galaxy.
.
Keldabe
Mandalore.
The Imperials occupied the old Mandal Motors headquarters, and had settled in, looking even more Imperial and there were many more Stormtroopers patrolling the town.
Kom'rk made his observations as he walked into the marketplace; despite his buy'ce not moving he scanned the whole of the marketplace noting everything.
There were building droids working behind Mandal Motors expanding the Garrison and not with temporary structures, from the look of the building materials that were being craned in.
The Empire was here to stay.
Kom'rk leaned against an old wall, bracing himself with one foot, watching; he always felt there was more to surveillance than the information they picked up courtesy of Jaing's algorithms and the holocams. As far as he was concerned you could not beat eyeballing it— a person, a place, a situation; that was why he was chosen to find Grievous.
Experience wins over AI.
Data surveillance had its place, but it couldn't tell you the little things, the emotion of a place, how the inhabitants were reacting. It told you what was there but not what was missing. That was sometimes more useful.
Put the two together, now that's another story.
He watched the Garrison, there was no urgency—useful.
It had been a while since any of them were here and he was waiting for Mereel; if his brother didn't materialise soon he would have to move on. He'd noted the slight movement of helmets from a couple of the Stormtroopers, as they passed him. He didn't move his head but used his three sixty degree vision in his HUD to monitor them.
It was better than the buckets they wore.
They turned right down an alley, one that led to the Kellita river.
There was no urgency about the Stormtroopers movements, they were easy, regular, relaxed.
He checked the buildings around the marketplace, still mostly shops. Still mostly occupied.
The Empire hadn't affected trade.
His eyes fixed on one of the old shops across the Marketplace; Beviin, it said across the door. He recognised the name; an old established Clan. He didn't remember the shop selling the items which were now displayed in the window, not the last time he came into town. He pushed away from the wall and walked over, activating his personal channel to his brother.
"I don't know exactly what you're doing Ner vod and don't care so long as it doesn't bring us to the notice of the Imperials." He had an idea, knowing his brother, "But I'm going shopping."
A slightly breathless Mereel finally answered, "Shopping?" Kom'rk picked up sounds of movement, his brother was not alone. He was with someone, just as he thought.
"For Ryssa and the baby. They need some things; they haven't picked anything up yet have they?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"Good question. I thought A'den may have said something."
He heard shuffling before his brother replied again.
"No he hasn't. But baby shopping. How very Aruetii of you."
Kom'rk snorted, then heard a female mutter in the background and couldn't help but roll his eyes, despite no one being able to see him.
"Just being thoughtful, ner vod. Aliit."
"Get me something for them."
"Get off your shebs and get it yourself."
"Not on my shebs, I'm—"
Kom'rk cut the com channel, he didn't have the patience to listen to any more Osik from his brother and meandered across to the shop, avoiding the people wandering around the marketplace; he noted the stormtroopers equidistant apart at each corner of the marketplace. They moved around circling it but covering the marketplace all the time. They obviously had routes.
Bad idea because the time of the route could be measured.
He finally entered the shop, it was new inside, catering for families by the looks of it. He wandered around.
He hadn't spent much time on Coruscant but he had managed to see some of the shopping malls they had there. The Aruetii seemed to view shopping as a pastime, a leisure activity; they spent hours doing it in specialist buildings. He preferred something more constructive, like training or modifying his blasters.
But then that is what he had been engineered for.
Although he wasn't averse to other leisure activities like blowing off steam with a female or two. His brother wasn't the only one who knew how to have fun.
He wandered around; there were a couple of other patrons also looking. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. Etain must have had some of this stuff when she had Kad but he wasn't sure where that had gone, or who had kept it.
He wandered through the baby clothes, all hanging up on tiny hangers; he spread his hand in front of one. Would his nephew be that tiny? Possibly, he remembered the growth jars on Kamino.
Then there was a section on other items, most of which he didn't understand what they were used for.
One thing he did see was a small cot; it was different to what he and his brothers had slept in as babies. He was cursed with remembering that far back and he remembered the feeling of the sleeping pod, that he slept in as soon as he was aware of his surroundings. It was smooth plastoid, hard, functional, impersonal, clinical, clear.
He remembered the large black eyes with white pupils staring at him through the clear sides; as he grew, he saw yellow eyes or blue but he soon learned the ones to be most afraid of were the black ones.
He blinked, he was staring at a cot that was padded inside with material with a pattern of baby Bantha's on it.
He wanted his nephew to sleep in something like that, like other babies in the galaxy did. He wondered what else they needed.
A birikad, he thought, there was one hanging up with material matching the cot.
Then he spied the hover pod, in the corner, in green. A'den's colour; he wandered over to it.
Examining it, his HUD showed it was durasteel, and again padded, protecting the ikaad; he walked all the way around it. Self contained. Safety features.
His HUD showed someone walking behind him then moving to the side; you never approached a Mandalorian directly from behind. He was older, had a few pieces of old Beskar armour on, protecting his main body. Just in case.
"Su cuy'gar." The proprietor greeted him, "Can I help you? Are you expecting an ik'aad?"
"Su cuy. Ne, Ner vod."
"Ba'vodu."
Kom'rk nodded.
"This is the best model. Durasteel, padded, internal monitor and it can be programmed to play soothing sounds to get the ik'aad to sleep if required, remote control and emergency measures."
He picked up a tiny remote control, "This can be fixed to you vambrace." He pressed a button. The hood closed.
"It won't close if the ik'aad is leaning out."
He pressed another button and some small Banthas and blasters hung from the top. Toys. Just like Kad had.
Kom'rk liked it, especially the emergency measures; they had to be prepared. He had never thought about what they would do with a baby or child if they had to bug out quickly and under fire. He had just assumed someone would carry them but they could still be injured in the middle of a firefight, until they were trained.
He walked around it; Beviin offered him the remote. He studied it, it had a basic programme. He pressed a button and the pod rose. He walked away and could see the pod hovering about six feet away from him. He changed direction. It followed him.
He returned.
"I'll take it. And the cot and the birikad."
"Matching?"
"Of course." He had already decided that Ryssa would like everything to match; it was something about the way she dressed. He hoped she liked baby Banthas.
He pulled out a credit chip; Beviin raised an eyebrow. It was a high amount, much more than the cost of the items.
"I'll need them delivered."
He didn't want to wander through Keldabe carrying those, not with the number of stormtroopers around. It would prompt questions. It could be difficult.
"Of course."
"Later today."
"Yes."
"Come alone!"
"No other way."
"These coordinates."
They were where they had left their speeder.
"Dusk."
Beviin nodded.
Kom'rk handed over the credit chip, "Ash'ad! Keep the change to make sure the items can't be traced back to me."
Beviin nodded, "Don't need the extra credits for that to happen. Things get damaged in stock taking. It happens all the time."
"I'd feel better if you took them. My contribution to the local economy."
Beviin's hand closed around the credit chip. He had still not seen his customers face but if he didn't want to take off his buy'ce, he wasn't going to push it, despite the new Imperial regulations.
"K'oyacyi!" Kom'rk decided he had done enough shopping now. He could not see it as a leisure pastime for himself. Now he had to find his brother.
He walked out of the shop, there was an increased presence of stormtroopers; then he saw the Imperial shuttle coming into land. It was out of sequence; they monitored the Imperial transport activity.
"Ordo!" He said into his com.
"Kom'rk!" his brother answered within a few seconds.
"An out of sequence Imperial shuttle just landed. It's not caused a fuss yet."
"We're on it. Monitored it from Corrie. We are trying to get the passenger list now."
"Trying? Do you want me to walk in and ask?"
Ordo ignored him, "Where's Mer'ika?"
"Not entirely sure."
He heard his brother's audible sigh.
"Just get back asap."
"Copy that, ori'vod."
He cut him off before Ordo could protest at being called that.
.
They waited in the clearing.
"You check him out?"
Kom'rk side eyed his brother, of course he had.
"Beviin! Old clan. Traditional. Not Death Watch."
"Good."
Although they were brothers, loved each other and would die for each other, they had spent the last few years apart; they were still getting used to each other again. Kom'rk had thought everything would be as it was before, when they were on Kamino but too much had happened. They had each had different experiences that shaped them.
They had changed; they'd had to, to survive but they were still brothers.
.
Kyrimorut Lab
Ryssa stared at the results, shaking her head in disbelief. She thought the Biochips were bad but this— this was—she had no words to describe it.
She hadn't opened the other file yet; now she had the results she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She uploaded them and left it unopened.
She concentrated on the results from the clone's brain scan.
Studying the results again, she was sure there had been continued and sustained damage to the brain and not by any accidental blunt force trauma but it had been precise, controlled, deliberate and for a specific reason.
She wondered how many clones had been experimented on and died before they refined this barbaric action. It had to have been hit and miss as she had not been able to find any reliable evidence of brain mapping which was so specific, so intricate to enable whoever it was going to use this.
She tried not to think too hard about it, as she was being kicked again and she needed a Caf.
Then she had to explain it to Kal and—Walon. She walked slowly to the kitchen, her hand resting on her belly.
.
The Nulls convened the meeting ready for her to make her report. A'den sat next to her. Close. His presence always felt reassuring.
"You understand that for free will there is brain activity leading up to the choice —that is, a period of deliberation, which occurs in the frontal cortex, in areas involved in reasoning and movement, and in the basal ganglia, deep within the brain that's responsible for a variety of motor control functions including the ability to start an action. All this takes place almost instantaneously ."
She paused. It felt like taking a class, lecturing. She had no doubt the Nulls would fully understand.
"Together, the two brain regions make up the core components underlying the will to act, or Free Will."
"How has the Empire managed this without a chip?" Asked Ordo.
"If the frontal cortex is damaged this can lead to changes in behaviour, more aggressive, impaired moral judgement, memory loss, reduced motor skills and spatial reasoning, declining intelligence, an inability to understand and interpret social cues, dementia, impaired language skills, loss of empathic reasoning—ability to relate to the emotions of others."
She saw the understanding on the Nulls faces.
"The presence and severity of these symptoms of frontal lobe brain damage can vary depending on the nature and timing of the injury and any treatment received."
She looked at them to see if they kept up with her; they had.
"I can only suggest this but from the examination of the brain, it looks like the Empire has identified and targeted specific areas of the frontal cortex and destroyed those tiny areas. I do not know how yet. They have increased aggression, impaired moral judgement, damaged the ability to understand and interpret social cues and instigated the loss of empathic reasoning. Anything more and the men wouldn't be able to function as soldiers. But they must have mapped out the specific areas to an atomic level to damage on test subjects and the clones would be ideal."
There was silence from the men. She sat down.
"Because they're identical." Said Walon.
She nodded.
"Bastards!" Muttered Kal.
"It's unlikely that it could be reversed. Not after any length of time and the subject is still functioning."
"No way to stop them?" Asked Kal.
She shook her head, "Not to keep them alive and functioning. Any more damage…"
She watched the men; it wasn't what they wanted to hear, especially Kal.
They were not going to be able to save these brothers.
.
Ryssa sat with her finger on the keypad, ready to open the file that she had been ignoring.
A'den stood at the door watching her; she was so engrossed in her work, she hadn't heard him. There weren't many people in his life he was proud of — his brothers, Kal'buir —and his wife, what she did and had endured.
"Haven't you finished yet?" Her husband's voice made her start, she hadn't heard him enter, which wasn't unusual.
"Just a couple more things."
His hands rested gently on her shoulders; she turned and popped a kiss on one.
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" He asked, massaging her tensed up muscles. She'd been hunched over the datapad, for what seemed like days.
"Not really." She had psyched herself up to press the keypad.
"I'm here if you really want to open that file now. The question is do you really want to know?"
"Know what?" She asked. She had never told him what she had done with the glove.
"If Vau is your birth Father?"
"How—?"
"How did I know? I know you Cyar'ika. Your moods, you were preoccupied and it wasn't the pregnancy or the clone autopsy. Then Mird was sniffing around in the bedroom the other day and I found the glove. I let him take it although I think he has put it in the nest he's made in the corner of our bedroom. Then I wondered why you had it and what you spoke about the other night. It fell into place. You should have told me."
She didn't say anything; she couldn't, she was still looking at the file.
His arms wrapped around her ready for any fallout; he wasn't going to tell her. He'd promised Vau and really this was a decision she needed to make for herself.
The file opened.
Ryssa didn't move, her eyes scanned the results.
"Ninety-nine point nine percent match with the Patriarchal sample." He read it out for her.
He held her tight, feeling the gasp. She leaned back against him.
"What are you going to do now?"
He pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"I don't know."
.
Ba'vodu - uncle.
Aliit - clan name
Ash'ad - someone else
Ori'vod - big brother