Daiyu

"We need to get some food in." Zur said as he stared at the nearly empty Conservator, picking up a half eaten ration pack and finishing it off before he continued, "I'd like to have some blue milk with my caf occasionally."

"Not my fault." Muttered Hela, pulling on her boots, "I don't like blue milk."

"So you only buy stuff you like?"

She paused, "Guilty as charged and sorry."

"We're not on Coruscant anymore and I shopped last time."

"Okay. I get the hint. Can we last until tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'll scrounge some from Dag."

Hela smiled, "I think he likes you."

"We're not talking about me."

"Aren't we?"

He huffed and gave up arguing but smiled, out of her sightline; he enjoyed this. It felt normal and she needed normal.

"You can scrounge anything from him." She continued.

"He's okay." Zur didn't give her the satisfaction of looking back at her with his reaction, another smile, tinged with sadness.

"He's more than okay." She sounded more serious, not the usual banter, "And you can move on, you know."

"Like you have!" Retorted Zur, standing still, looking directly at her now, willing her to return his gaze. He'd heard her in the night walking around unable to sleep and then the blue light of her datapad peeping out from under her door.

She didn't answer, she looked tired with dark shadows under her eyes; she continued to stare at her boots which had suddenly become very interesting, "I'm different."

"Why?"

"Mayday's not dead." She still didn't look at him.

Both were silent.

They had both spent hours on the Holonet looking for any indication of where he was, checking if he had been recalled and decommissioned but nothing. They could find no trace of him in the Empire's systems anywhere. Zur had left an algorithm running to pick up his name or any of his squad but lots of clones had the same names and none matched what Hela remembered of them.

And nothing from Gregor either, even if he was still alive, as he had deserted. Zur was sure that wouldn't go down well with the Empire.

"No, He isn't." Zur said gently; she had to come to the conclusion she wasn't going to find him herself and he wasn't going to push it. Then perhaps she could move on. Although he wasn't sure where yet. So far they were just surviving.

"I'll get plenty of food tomorrow." Hela finally looked back at him and smiled, "I've got some tips due to me." Smiling and wearing a little make up had worked

.

They turned down the alley to the Cantina, surprised to see workmen putting a new sign up above the door. They stood watching until the workmen moved away from the door and the new sign was swinging freely above it.

"Wonder what's happening?" Asked Hela, "It's not like the Boss to spend unnecessary credits."

"No. Not heard anything either but I don't like it." Zur stared up at the sign. It wasn't lit up but looked like a crudely painted picture of a Nuna in mid air. The letters underneath explained the image.

"The Flying Nuna?" Asked Hela, a little incredulous.

Dag walked up behind them, "We're under new management!" He explained, "Shall we?"

He held out an arm leading the way, Hela walked forward and stopped as soon as she entered the Cantina. It had been transformed overnight. It was no longer dingy and well worn but now more upmarket, with new and cleaner tables, still in their wrapping and decor, and a stage was being built in the corner, utilising some storage they had. There was a new door leading somewhere.

"Ah! More members of my little team." A cultured and soft voice rang out from the rear of the Catina, and a well dressed Devaronian stepped out from the old boss's office, there were several other Devaronians surrounding him, in uniform and armed. There was no sign of the old boss.

"Come! Come! There has been a change of management."

They shuffled into what was the old office to join the other employees there; it had already been extended. Hela looked around and realised that all the old bosses' favourites were not there and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Dag stood there with his arms folded across his chest; he gave Zur a little smile but received nothing in return. He shrugged at Hela.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Caesar Durand."

The new boss was talking, speaking to each employee in turn; she wasn't really listening.

"So. Which one is Fay?"

No one answered.

"Is Fay here?"

Zur nudged her.

She tentatively raised her hand.

"Server?"

She nodded.

"Good. I like to put a face to the name."

His voice was soft, not at all what she expected from a Devaronian; she looked closer, he had green skin and brown eyes, and was quite handsome.

"As you can see there are some changes being done. All for the better don't you think?" He didn't wait for a reply, "We open the day after tomorrow." There were mutterings from a few, "But don't worry you'll get paid for the days off. A reward for your loyalty. You'll find I value loyalty." He paused to let that significant comment sink, "So enjoy your holiday."

They all stood there, not sure what to do now.

"I'll see you all then, be on time." He turned to sit behind his desk, effectively dismissing them.

Dag was the first one to move, walking around the room to leave; he stopped and whispered to Zur, who shook his head. Hela watched them as Dag looked disappointed. He smiled at her before leaving the Cantina. She wandered over to Zur.

"I can go and get the shopping now. What did Dag say?"

"Nothing. Not important. Let's go."

"You can go with him, you know. I don't mind."

"I'm not leaving you."

"I'll be fine. I'm a big girl now." They walked out of the Cantina into the dusk. Daiyu was turning into the city at night, the lights just starting to come on. More dealers would be coming onto the streets. Zur was quiet.

Hela's feeling of being settled for a short while had been turned upside down again.

"So the new boss—"

"He's with the Durand crime family."

"Never heard of them but do you think they know about us?"

"I don't think so."

"But why the takeover—credits?"

"Yeah. The boss, old boss, was probably doing something that annoyed them. It doesn't take much. You don't cross the Durand family and survive. They don't take prisoners and this new one is here to clean up. Make it profitable again."

"Is he a member of the family?" Asked Hela, dodging some people as they walked towards the market.

"No. That's Isa Durand. She's the boss, as hard as durasteel nails. I've heard there's only one son, Roland and this isn't him. This one is probably a cousin who's working his way up. Proving himself, hoping to get up to third or even second position in the hierarchy."

Hela was silent.

"You know a lot about them."

"My family did work for them back in the day."

"Should we leave?"

"It was amicable and profitable on both sides and might raise flags if we leave right now."

"Okay." She stopped walking, "Blue milk?"

"Yeah!"

He was wondering who had ratted the old boss out; it didn't look like any of his favourites. They had all gone except Dag. He may have to take him up on his offer.

Hela came out of the shop with a bag full of items.

"Can you get back okay?"

"Yeah. Course I can. Why?"

Always with the why, he thought.

"Just forgot something. Need to see someone."

He left her standing there, as he rushed to the bar Dag had mentioned, hoping he was still there.

.

Zur slipped into the empty seat next to Dag; there were already two glasses in front of him.

"I thought you'd come." He said smiling and pushed a glass over to Zur.

Zur picked it up and smelt it. "Toydarian Whisky. Not a blend either. Pre Clone War?"

He sipped it and savoured it smoky taste as his slid down his throat warming him from the inside.

"Smooth. You know your whisky."

Dag nodded.

"I'd like to know why you did it." Continued Zur.

"Did what?"

"Ratted out the Boss."

"Who said I did?"

"Me!" He pushed his empty glass back towards the Pantoran.

"Someone had to." He replied refilling the glass and pushing it back.

"But why."

"A couple of reasons." He took a sip.

Anyone looking at them would assume they were having a civilised chat about their working day, winding down.

"Enlighten me!" Pushed Zur.

"Where's Fay?"

"Stocking up with food, then going back to the Apartment. Why?"

"Just curious."

"You still haven't told me why."

"One— because if it continued we'd all be in trouble. The Durand family does not give you second chances. We'd all be collateral damage."

Zur nodded, "And?"

"He touched my knives one too many times, even though I told him they were off limits. Then he insulted my food."

Zur remembered Dag had told him not to touch his knives. They were a fine set of Chef's knives with their own case, which they fit in exactly. Hard wooden handles. Cold steel. Sharpened like razors. He cleaned them and sharpened them religiously. They were the tools of his trade, just like a Bounty Hunter and his modified blasters.

They were very personal.

Zur had watched him.

They were like his own ceremonial knife but they were for specific roles in his trade. The man was a trained Chef and had worked at the finest restaurants on Pantora and Coruscant, and now he was here.

There was another story there and Zur had yet to check it out; he wasn't sure why he hadn't done that yet.

Fear of what he would find?

"So that's why his favourites weren't there?"

"Yes. The ones who had been with him a long time, were in on it and taking their own cut from him for turning a blind eye. If they had any sense they'd run but they probably didn't."

Zur thought he knew they hadn't.

"Me and Fay?"

"Too new. I wasn't sure if either of you'd seen anything but I didn't think you had. It usually happens early in the morning. And no I wasn't in on it but I came in early one day to do a deep clean and saw what they were doing."

"How long had it been going on?"

"Don't know. So I thought I'd get in there first."

"Dangerous!"

"Isn't life, at the moment?"

"Very."

Zur felt Dag's hand on his thigh creeping slowly upwards; he covered it with his own.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Zur asked him, wanting to make sure it was what he thought it was.

"I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Good!" Zur leant across the table and pulled him into a hard kiss.

Dag kissed him back harder. When they finally pulled apart, Dag grabbed the bottle, "My place?"

Zur nodded.

.

Hela stared at the meal on the table in front of her; she was eating alone now. Zur had messaged her. He was with Dag; he had taken her advice for once and she was happy for him. You had to grab happiness with both hands where you could.

She moved the food around the plate with her fork, not really hungry. She put a forkful in her mouth and chewed. Zur said she had to keep her strength up. If they had to run again, she needed to be fit; she couldn't be weak and undernourished. It was like chewing plastoid, despite the spices she had used. She eventually swallowed it and pushed another piece around the plate.

It was at times like this she missed him most.

She hated being alone because her mind wandered to the memories. Mayday would have asked her by now if she was going to finish it, the look on his face hopeful, when she said yes he would go on to eat every last crumb.

He lived by the soldier's mantra —eat when you can, sleep when you can,

Her hand went to her neck and the resin encased, blue plom flower.

She pushed the plate away and left the food, maybe she would heat it up later and eat, maybe.

.

Dag lay in Zur's arms sleeping; they were both still sweaty, the temperature was warm and the air humid. There was no climate control in Dags place. Zur would take him home next time. He was sure Hela wouldn't mind. She liked him. She had suggested this and although he would never admit it to her, he did take notice of what she said. She had been right about Anoon.

He looked again at Dag.

The red light on his com flashed; he had incoming from his datapad. He moved away from Dag smoothly and quickly accessed it. He finally had a match from the CT number Hela gave him, which was linked to Mayday's old GAR com. He'd had it for several days now and had avoided using it at first, worried it had been converted to the Imperial system and may even lead the Empire back to them, so he'd routed his request through a number of search programmes, piggy backing onto some local holofeed. It was a last resort and it worked but he didn't want to give Hela the news when he read it.

Zur stared at the ceiling, watching the old fashioned fan push warm air around the room.

Dag shuffled, blinked and turned to him, "Problem?" He asked sleepily.

"Not sure."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay." He knew when not to push and turned back, closing his eyes again.

.

Barton IV

Mayday walked along the corridor studying his datapad, automatically avoiding the obstructions, as he knew the way back to his quarters with his eyes closed, metaphorically speaking; he was studying the accuracy figures from the latest blaster firing exercises. He had upped the training schedule, especially for Zak. He wanted to get him up into the 90 percentile, if he could, give him a better chance at survival. Zak was useful especially with data encryptions and the hardware they used. He'd feel happier if he could defend himself better. He programmed in some one on one training for Zak. First thing tomorrow. No mission yet, as far as they knew, so far.

His hand to hand training had come along well and he could hold his own with taller, heavier opponents. Not Mayday of course.

He saw the boots first, large pilots boots, legs crossed in front of the door to his quarters. He looked up. She was wearing a khaki flight suit. The pilot. She wasn't tall, 5' 2" at a pinch and she might have been 100 lbs wet through. It was a guess, difficult to estimate through the flight suit. Short red hair, green eyes and freckles. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. So no idea about the size of that.

He wasn't sure why he had taken all that in at one glance but he had.

He couldn't remember her name, wasn't sure if he had even been told it but she had done a good job piloting them on Serenno.

"So you're the Clone they're talking about. I didn't realise that until I picked you up. It was too late then. I should have spaced you but Donca says we need you. you're useful."

He'd had that reaction before, or something similar. Some of his comrades, he couldn't call them brothers yet, were still working through that.

"A bit difficult here. How can I help you?"

"Do you want sex? I'm horny. It's been a while."

He blinked. It had been a while for him too. He tried not to think too much about it but still needed to sort himself out occasionally.

She frowned at him; even her eyebrows were red.

"I know you like women by the way you just looked at me."

She was rarely wring on who she approached.

Mayday stared at her.

"Have you ever had sex?"

"Yes."

"Was it good?"

"Yes."

"So you know what you're missing."

He breathed out, "I have work to do but thank you for the offer."

She looked at him for a few seconds! "Okay." She started to turn, then changed her mind.

"There's someone else isn't there?' she said.

He nodded.

"Of course there is. But if it wasn't for her, you'd want to, right?"

"No." he lied.

She looked at him again, her eyes narrowed for a few seconds.

"Suit yourself."

She pushed herself away from the wall and walked off; his gaze followed her down the corridor before he turned into his quarters.

.

Thirty minutes later the knock at his door disturbed him; he had just managed to concentrate again.

He opened the door, datapad in his right hand.

The pilot.

"I need something." she said, "I can't sleep."

"I told you."

"A kiss then," she said, "I've never kissed a clone. Nothing more, I promise."

Mayday looked at her and decided; he reached around with his left arm and pulled her close. Kissed her on the lips. She put her hands behind his head and pushed her fingers into his hair, it was the longest it had ever been. She tilted her head and opened her mouth.

He felt her tongue on his teeth, in his mouth. He closed his eyes. Her tongue was urgent, deep in his mouth and it felt good.

He opened his eyes and saw hers, too close to focus on. They were shut tight. He let her go and pulled away, full of guilt.

The only thing in his mind now was the feel of her tongue in his mouth. It felt different from Hela's—tasted different. He supposed everyone's was different.

He pulled her back to him and closed the door.

.

Mayday had set his internal alarm clock last night before he fell asleep and woke at his normal time but the bunk was cold next to him. He remembered the pilot going to the fresher in the middle of the night and he had turned over. She obviously left soon after. Perhaps for the best. He stroked the tattoo of the blue plom flower and remembered.

He felt guilty again.

He pushed himself off his bunk and headed for a sonic shower, trying to erase the guilt but he knew he couldn't.