Barton IV

"What are you planning?" Asked Lin, as she pulled a boot on, she was getting dressed In Mayday's quarters, after she had spent the night with him.

Mayday hadn't planned this, in fact after he found Hela he told himself this, whatever he had with Lin, had to stop but a bottle of the moonshine and then being with her had led them back to his quarters. Now his head pounded and his mouth felt like it had been blasted with Tatooine sand.

"Nothing. Plans go to hell as soon as the first blaster is fired."

Ignoring his flippant remark, she continued, "I heard you arguing with Donca yesterday and something's still bothering you."

"Nothing."

"Mayday enough! I know you well enough now to know that something is eating at you and it's troubling you a lot!"

She waited, hands on hips, watching his reaction.

He breathed deeply, several times. Last night was good. It was just what he needed to let off steam but he didn't want to hurt her. What he wanted to do may never happen. So many things could go wrong. They may not even find him. Hela may not still be with Vos. He could have sold her.

He could have killed her.

"She's alive isn't she. The woman you thought was dead." Lin made the connection, she was a clever woman, "And you want to go get her from wherever she is."

She watched as he decided on his reply.

"Yes. If I can." The thought of getting her back reverberated around his brain.

"If you can?"

"She's with Crimson Dawn."

Lin blew out a breath, "with or owned by?"

"Owned. She has a slave tracker embedded."

"Nasty!"

"One that explodes."

"Even more nasty! But you still want to go get her. So what's the problem with Donca?"

"She thinks it's too dangerous."

"For you?"

He nodded.

"And the cell."

"Huh-huh!"

"But you're going."

"I have to."

"So was that the part about choice?"

"Yep."

As they finished dressing, Lin thought it over; she wasn't a jealous woman, it wasn't in her nature. If one of her partners found someone else they wished to be with, so be it; she wished them well and moved on. She liked Mayday a lot and she always knew he had someone in his past, someone who had meant a great deal to him, and still did. This was unusual for a clone. She had met a few before; she thought they had a rotten deal, with the accelerated ageing. There should be an army of angry soldiers out there but the ones she had met, like Mayday, accepted it and got on with their lives.

Or so she thought.

"During the war, if I thought too much about my life, I felt cheated." Mayday admitted, "I knew there were other soldiers, not clones, who had families. Someone to go home to. Some of the trainers told us that. I couldn't think about it too much or I couldn't function, couldn't lead, couldn't do my job and not look after the only family I had, my brothers. But then I met Hela. She gave me a family, more than my brothers, but she welcomed them meant a lot. I didn't have to make a choice."

Lin waited, sensing he had more to say. This was the most he had ever said about his previous life and how much this Hela meant to him. A first love always meant a lot but she felt this was more.

"She gave me hope, for a future, more than just the desire to be a good soldier and do my duty."

"Have you told Donca this?"

"She knows."

"Perhaps she needs reminding. People forget. We don't have your memory."

Mayday was quiet.

"My offer still stands. If you need a ride anywhere."

Mayday looked as if he was going to ask a question, then decided against it.

"Thanks."

.

'First Light'.

Hela watched Vos training; some kind of martial arts he practised. He was quick, surefooted and strong, knowing exactly where to strike and he didn't take prisoners. He beat the droids he was fighting, using them to give him feedback as to where he hit them and how much damage he would have caused to an organic being. She wondered if he had them deliberately set so he could beat them but she didn't think that was in his nature. He needed to be the best.

Sweat dripped off his face and his shirt clung to his torso, when he stopped moving and with one strike decapitated the droid; another clean up droid entered immediately to pull it away.

Enforcer Cremm stood waiting for him; he held out a cloak for him and said a few words. Hela wasn't quite close enough to hear. Cremm glared at her as he walked past her, while Dryden smiled at her, "You were watching me?"

He already knew the answer.

"Yes. I wondered what you were doing."

"Training."

"It looked more like a choreographed dance."

"There are set moves you can practise, so they become automatic responses to an attack."

"Ah." She stared at the training room trying to put some sort of longing into her face.

"I could show you some moves." He offered.

"Would you?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

She held his gaze.

"Perhaps I'm only asking, so I can kill you."

He smiled indulgently.

"It's called Teräs Käsi. It was designed to counter the Jedi and I was taught it by a master. So that's highly unlikely."

"Jedi?"

"I find it works just as well on anyone with limbs to break."

He was still smiling, "But I can show you some moves, if you're still interested."

"After that man got into my room, I need something to protect myself. The guards were slow. He got past them."

"There are new guards and they have been doubled but if you still want to, we can start tomorrow."

Hela smiled at Enforcer Cremm, as he came back into the room.

"Tomorrow then but now I need to practise my scales." Hela said, nodding to Cremm, as she left, there was no response from him, as always.

He watched her leave and satisfied turned to Vos, "Sir!"

Vos wiped his face down again, "The new slave. She looks promising."

"Which one?"

"Q'ira."

"She's trouble."

"But I feel she has potential, after all she did kill one of your guards, and reached the escape pods."

Cremm grunted his displeasure.

"I'm thinking of offering her a position within our ranks of but —"

"You're not sure of her loyalty, especially after her history with Lady Proxima and her recent attempts to escape."

"I'm sure I have persuaded her that escape is not an option."

"And the singer?"

"I'm making progress."

"This training for her."

"You overheard?"

"Yes sir."

Vos wasn't surprised; Cremm took his role very seriously.

"It's not a good idea."

"I appreciate your concern but is that just your professional opinion?"

"It is."

"On what grounds?"

"She may be a singer but she is also an actress, and —"

"And you think she's playing a part for me because I'm susceptible to her charms?"

"Yes sir." Cremm stared straight ahead. He had said it now and would live or die with the consequences, knowing the nature of his employer.

"Yes. I suppose I am but I know that is my weakness and I can guard against it."

Cremm nodded, "Yes sir." He was still not happy but he had given his professional and personal opinion; he didn't like the woman.

.

Cremm watched the woman, Hela, as she lay on the floor, chest heaving, sweat pouring off her and her left arm lying next to her at an unnatural angle.

He smiled, as much as he could, and walked away; his employer was dealing with her just as he said he would.

Hela grimaced at the pain and checked her arm, the way it lay was all wrong for an arm. It should just not do that.

She had tried too hard, set up an attack and failed. He had seen her intentions in her face and reacted suitably — with no mercy.

The vivid red striations on his face were settling down now, as she lay disabled on the floor. Her left arm was useless from the elbow down.

"Medical droid to the training room immediately." He said unemotionally into his com link.

"How long have you been training now?"

She took a deep breath, "Several months."

"And what did I say when we started?"

"The training is serious and not to be taken lightly."

"Correct."

"I didn't." She protested.

This was what he liked about her; she didn't give in.

"Next time. Don't try a move like that until you've mastered it. Q'ira is doing better than you."

Hela watched him as he left the room; his new slave Q'ira was waiting for him; she had been his shadow over the last couple of weeks and they left together. He was obviously training her also, although she realised she had never seen them together.

He disappeared as the med droid loomed into view above her. She closed her eyes, still not liking droids, at least it hovered and didn't clank. She took a deep breath and panted, as it attached the bone knitter, injected Bacta and an analgesic for good measure. She sighed as the pain finally ebbed away. Then it offered a metallic hand and pulled her upright. Holding her arm, it weighed heavy with the bone knitter and still ached, despite the meds, she walked unsteadily to her room.

.

Barton IV

Mayday picked up his com and read the message from Enfys, "We have a tracker on him. We know where he's going."

He almost ran to his quarters, forwarding the message to Lin before he grabbed his gear. He carefully packed his pack, just as he had been taught in his training on Kamino. Why change something that worked. He had cleaned his blaster that morning and his vibroblade was always ready to go. He slipped his hold out blaster into his ankle holster and his small vibroblade on the other leg.

About to set off he had a thought and went to the 'fresher. It had been a while since he had done this. He reached for his shaving kit, thought better of it and found his cold blade.

.

Mayday rinsed his face and turned as his door opened and Donca stood there.

"So it's true – you're going after her?"

Someone had snitched; he didn't blame them. It wasn't their problem.

"That's always been my plan. You know it has."

"I thought with—"

"I need to get her away from that place, from him."

"Perhaps she wants to be there."

"He owns her; she's a slave. She doesn't have a choice. She has a slave chip embedded."

"So you said but we can't save every slave."

"I can save her. I have to. I owe her. And I know what it's like to be a slave."

Donca stared at him, knowing now, nothing she could say would change his mind. They'd argued about it and she regretted that.

"The data chip was good. Lists of all known coaxium producers for the Empire and the ones not exactly happy with that arrangement. Some we knew about some we didn't. Where did she get it from?"

"I don't know. I assume Vos."

"If she did, Fulcrum thinks she'd be very useful staying there, if we could con— "

"No!" He cut her off. Mayday knew he couldn't leave her there, despite what they said.

"She would be playing a dangerous game." Donca continued.

"Exactly. That's why I need to get her away from him. If he ever found out…."

Donca held out her hand with a small instrument in it.

"You'll need this then."

He stared at it.

"It's a slave chip remover. Zak's checked it over. It should work. You disable the chip but then you have to extract it."

"Extract it?"

"Yes! Some chips can be re-enabled and reactivated later."

"You know alot about this sort of thing."

"You're not the only one who hates slavers. And how do you think we got rid of your clone ID tracker embedded in your wrist? We've had to modify it though."

He rubbed his wrist. He had thought it disabled by the Empire marking him as dead.

She pressed it into his hand and held hers over his.

"Be careful out there. We'd miss you."

"I thought you knew I'm pretty hard to kill." He kept holding her hand.

She smiled, "I like the new look." He rubbed his newly shaved chin, and the sides of his head; it was almost GAR regulation. "Makes you look younger."

"Thought I'd make an effort." He quipped as he left.

Donca watched him almost run down the corridor. She hoped beyond anything else that he returned alive.

.

Unnamed Planetoid.

Enfys stood, in full battle dress, arms crossed, staring at the clean shaven man in front of her.

"Is she still with him?" He asked.

"Yes. I've had eyes on her."

"Good."

"What did Donca say?"

"About what?"

Enfys huffed her impatience, "About all this."

"Nothing."

"So—You didn't tell her or she disagreed with you and told you not to go." She knew Donca as well as anyone, all her life. Her Mother had had numerous arguments with her but they remained friends.

"Yeah, she actually had a lot to say and gave me this." He showed her the small implement.

She turned it over in her hands. He knew from the tilt of the headdress she was studying it.

"Chip remover. Good woman. Let's hope we get a chance to use it." She turned to her bike, "You'll need this as well." She dumped a crate next to him, "By the time we get there, he'll have landed but then we need to get in the ship, disable the drives and keep him on the ground."

He opened the crate. Enforcers armour. He pulled it out, it would fit well enough. Underneath was a jet pack. He lifted it gently, almost reverently out of the crate.

"Clone jet pack. Where did you get this?"

"There are a lot of abandoned Republic bases, some haven't been totally ransacked yet."

He checked it over; it looked almost new. Fuel gauge showed full.

"Don't worry. Zak checked it for us. He insisted. Donca doesn't know about this one though. I might have to give her the coordinates of the base if she did."

"I.." he was lost for words.

"You're a clone trooper aren't you? You've used these haven't you?"

He grinned, "Is Jabba a Hutt?"

He heard the huff in response as she turned away.

"So where are we going?"

"Horox III."

"Never heard of it."

"You wouldn't. The Republic wasn't interested. Nothing to be gained from it. Settled but nothing there to speak of, a few farmers, small towns with small space ports and bars nothing to really interest the Republic or the Empire."

She turned to look at the woman leaning against the ship he had come in, "You trust her?"

"She wouldn't be here if I didn't and she's a karking good pilot. One of the best."

"Okay. These are the coordinates. He'll be there in a couple of rotations. We need to disable both drives. That's your job. Here's the specs and then we distract him whilst you find her and retrieve her."

He looked at the details on his com.

"Got it. Let's go!"

.

Horox III

Hela stared out of the viewport. There was very little to see, except a few shuttles coming into land but they were nowhere near them. That usually meant Vos was leaving the ship. She wandered into the Reception room, as she did when she knew he was away. It was unnaturally empty and quiet; Zur's knife was still on display. She reached out and ran her finger along the hilt. All this time and she still missed him. It was like one if her arms had been cut off.

The deafening alarm rang through the ship—intruders.

Without thinking, she grabbed the knife and hilt from the shelf and strapped it to her leg then ran down the corridor to her room.

Enforcers passed her in the corridor, ignoring her; Aola was with N'ina and J'ila standing at her door as she reached them.

"Look after them!" Aola's voice was urgent.

"What are you going to do?"

"Help whoever's attacking."

She hugged both of her children, in turn, whispering something in their ears, in Ryl; Hela turned away she didn't catch what was said,nit felt intrusive.

"Stay safe!" She stood next to Hela putting a hand on her shoulder, "and remember your promise."

Hela nodded, "Be careful too." Then ushered the children into her room.

"Stay away from the viewport. Get on the floor against the bed, away from the hull."

She wished she had a blaster but there was little she could do to defend or protect them.

An explosion rocked the ship; she couldn't work out if was in the ship or just outside. The lights flickered but her viewports remained intact.

They sat and waited.

.

Mayday ignited the jet pack and with his arms straight along his side dove towards the ship; the swoop bikes were attacking from numerous directions. As the ship filled his view, he reversed the thrust, cursing as the sudden change in direction dragged on his body, increasing gravity's pull on him; he had forgotten how that felt. He used the jets to manoeuvre around the hull to where the drive units were located. Once you trained on jet packs, you never forgot how to use them.

Hovering, he visualised the blueprints Weazal had supplied and planted the dets accordingly; they didn't want to blow up the whole ship, just cripple it. He jetted off around the ship. He turned around and fired, jetting backwards away from his attackers. Blaster fire came from a couple of swoop bikes and he changed direction again coming to a halt at the entry to the ship. He dropped to the ground in front of it.

He strode over the bodies of the guards, one moved; Mayday automatically fired at his head. The rest were dead, but they would soon be replaced; stepping over the rest he entered the elevator which ran the height of the ship, hoping it still worked.

It did.

Now all he had to do was find Hela.