Barton IV

"How long is this journey going to take?" Mayday asked, they had set off before dawn and he still didn't know exactly where they were going; everyone had been tight lipped about where.

Finor smiled, "That's a question younglings always ask!"

Mayday frowned; he nearly replied with I'm still only fourteen.

"Are we there yet?" Finor mimicked a younglings voice.

Mayday still frowned; fourteen going on forty four, he felt older.

"Have you had any dealings with younglings?" Finor tried again, "They're impatient, get bored easily."

"Only the Cadets in training and Lilli." The name suddenly came to him, together with the image of the little girl with red hair so like her mother. He wondered what Plug's son looked like. If he had red or dark brown hair like his Buir and numerous Bavodu'e.

"Cadets?"

"We were decanted in batches so there were always younger ones coming up, training. You never got bored when you were training. Every second, almost, was accounted for."

"Lilli?" Asked Finor.

"The daughter of my brother's girl."

He didn't know how else to explain it but Finor seemed to understand what he meant.

"Where are they now?" Finor kept his eyes on the track, it was rough going.

"Plug's dead. Cara and Lilli are on Naboo. She will have had his son now." Mayday wasn't sure why he said all this but someone had to know, to understand.

The transport veered slightly, then Finor pulled it back.

"I didn't think….."

"That we could father children?"

"No."

"Neither did we."

"Have you?"

"Hela can't have children. Something to do with the Battle of Naboo."

"She was on Naboo?"

"Yes, as a child, in one of the camps. There was toxic waste from the battles. It found its way into their water supply."

"Sorry."

"Yeah." He remembered how helpless he felt when she told him

There was silence in the cab until Finor broke it again.

"Several rotations, depending on the weather." He returned to the previous conversation.

"It always depends on the weather." Observed Mayday, the previous conversation ignored.

"It does on this planet."

There was silence for a few minutes until Mayday finally asked, "Where exactly—" he stopped talking; he could hear engines in the distance, nit transports. Finor looked at him frowning.

The swoop bikes appeared from nowhere effectively blocking their way.

The transports slowed and pulled over.

"Problem?" Asked Mayday, his eyes followed where Finor looked, into the middle of the bikes.

"Not sure."

They stared at the masked beings now standing in their way, with more appearing behind them, on swoop bikes.

Finor's face was as impassive as the masks the newcomers wore. They were well armed, noted Mayday. His hand automatically dropped to his blaster and rested there, ready.

"Pirates?" Mayday looked over the armed beings effectively blocking their way and noted the glint from the weak sun on blasters from hidden snipers in the hills. Although Mayday easily picked them out so they were not very well hidden; perhaps they didn't intend to be, perhaps it was more a show of strength.

One walked forward.

"Get out of the vehicles!" It was a male voice.

Mayday couldn't work out if they were all males or if it was a mixture; some were definitely smaller than the others. Could be younglings or females. He did a mental headcount.

He and Finor exited the transport, as he glanced back, he saw all the others had obeyed as well.

"Where's Donca Kale?" This was a different voice it came from the the middle of the group.

"I'm here!" Donca's voice rang out, "Who wants to know."

One of the masked beings walked forward through the others to meet her; Mayday could now see the masks were part of an elaborate set of armour, which they all wore but each was slightly different. Very much like he and his brothers.

"Nest! Good to see you." Donca embraced the masked individual, as she pulled away, she added, "To what do we owe this honour?"

"We heard Crimson Dawn was in the neighbourhood and we just could not resist."

A youngling walked up beside her. She too was armed and had a slightly different mask and a shock of red curly hair flowing from behind.

Donca looked down at her, "This can't be Enfys, can it?"

It was the first name he had heard for the masked ones.

The other woman nodded, "It is!"

"Who are they?" Whispered Mayday to Finor.

"They're pirates, Cloud-Riders and they don't like Crimson Dawn."

"Why not? If they're pirates?"

"It goes way back."

The leader looked directly at him and Finor, as they spoke.

"He's new!" She said to Donca then walked over to look at him. She stood the same height as him and was able to look him in the eye.

She appraised him; he knew the look. It was the same as the Kaminoans used on potentially defective brothers. He didn't react; she was an unknown quantity.

"You look familiar."

He didn't answer.

She grabbed his chin. Her touch was firm and strong. She moved his head to the left and then the right, looking at the scars on his face. There were a few.

She moved down to his biceps and squeezed..

He looked over at Finor, who shrugged, almost smiling but keeping it in.

She punched him in the stomach, it wasn't quite as hard as when he was fighting but nearly there. She didn't manage to wind him, just took him by surprise.

She stepped back.

"Finished?" He asked.

"You were well nourished as a youngling. All the best food and exercise but since then you've had some difficult times but you'd make someone a good mate. Produce strong younglings. Female and male."

"I'm taken."

The woman looked around, "Are they here?"

"No! I need to find her."

"Lost you did she? That's careless of her."

"It's a long story."

"Well if you all want to join us tonight, you can tell me about it."

.

"Crimson Dawn! We have history."

The leader of the Cloud - Riders took a drink of the strong home made alcohol they had brought with them. She persuaded Donca that the two groups should camp tonight and share Intel. Mayday just wanted to get to the warmer regions. The two women looked comfortable together. She continued.

"Centuries ago a band of mercenaries came to a peaceful planet for a resource they wanted, it doesn't matter exactly what that was, that's been lost in time but they kept coming back until one time, the people who lived there resisted and in retaliation the mercenaries cut off the tongue of every man, woman and child there."

She took another drink, "Eventually those mercenaries became Crimson Dawn."

Now she looked straight at him, "They're now one of many criminal syndicates who commit unspeakable crimes across the galaxy and we have not forgotten what they did."

She took another drink, long and slow this time, never taking her eyes off him.

"We hunt them down wherever they are."

Mayday watched the fire, the heat it gave off was fierce.

"So what's yours?"

"More recent."

He could see Donca watching him and was unsure how much she had told this new woman.

"I'm a soldier. I was engin—born and bred to fight." He corrected himself, "Trained for ten years until my first battle."

Hela had hated it when he used the term engineered to explain something about himself.

"And where was that?"

"Geonosis."

The Leader tilted her head to one side.

"You're no Jedi. There aren't many of them left and much good they did my people when we needed them"

"No."

"Born and bred to fight, you say? You're a clone?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No! it's just we have never seen you without your helmets. So how did you end up here, without the Empire?"

"I realised how much I had been used. How much my brothers had been used."

She smiled at him, "Everyone has their breaking point. The point where they fight back." She glanced over at Donca, then returned to Mayday.

"Any plans?"

She sipped the drink now and held out her arm for a female youngling to join her, sitting by her side.

"I'm with Donca helping them and I need to find my girl."

"What's her name?"

"Hela Nim."

"When and where did you last see her?"

Mayday looked at Donca; she nodded. She trusted this woman. It couldn't hurt.

"Coruscant just before the Empire took control. Then I had a message. She was leaving there. It was dangerous for her. She could be on Naboo but I'm not sure."

"You're a long way from there, soldier."

"She has credits and someone to help her."

The Leader raised her eyebrows in a question.

"He's Falleen."

She laughed, "She's probably enslaved to the Black Sun by now. But we'll keep an ear and eye out for you, soldier." She pulled her daughter closer and tucked a stray strand of red hair away from her daughter's face. The child was falling asleep. "Rumour has it that the true leader of Crimson Dawn is not Dryden Vos but some sort of Force user and he foresaw the end of the Clone Wars and told the syndicate leaders to go into hiding, so our pickings have been lean recently but they are still operating."

She adjusted herself, as the child had fallen asleep leaning against her; one of the other members took the child away, holding her gently to ensure they didnot wake her.

"They have been seen openly dealing again, so we will be pursuing them."

Mayday had never had any dealings with the criminal gangs, unless there was that time with Skoll. They could have been any one of the Crime gangs, apart from the Pikes. They liked to have one of their own in charge.

She accepted another drink and offered the bottle to Mayday; he also accepted a further one.

"The Empire appears to be making use of these criminals either directly or indirectly to take over worlds. So now the Empire is also our enemy."

She lifted her beaker in a toast, "To Retribution and Rebellion!"

The members of her gangs all raised their beakers, as did the Rebels he was with and he did the same.

"Retribution and Rebellion!" He said, and drank to it.

He meant it.

.

By next morning the Cloud Raiders were gone; they left no evidence they had ever been there, apart from a couple of charred circles where they had their own fires.

One or two of the Rebels fires still had a few embers left, enough to brew a Caf or two and then they had dry rations before they set off.

There were a few sore heads and it showed on their faces as the transports jostled and bumped along the road.

"So what did you think of her?" asked Finor.

"Formidable! Wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of them."

"We don't. We help them when we can and they help us. But she's right. We've heard of planets being targeted by criminals, pirates, whatever you like to call them and that chaos paves the way for the Empire, who promise law and order. Not everyone, mind you. Some hate the Empire as much as we do."

Mayday was learning more and more about civilian life in the Empire.

"We could use those."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend?" Asked Finor.

"Sometimes." Agreed Mayday, he leaned back watching the changing country flash past the small windows of the transport.

.

It took them nearly eight days to reach their destination; the transports were old and heavily laden, moving slowly and steadily through the icy terrain, over mountain passes and through valleys. They traversed rocky outcrops pounded by incessant rain, so much that Mayday felt damp all the time. They had a few delays with transport breakdowns, where the whole convoy stopped and repairs were undertaken but the progress was steady and after the Cloud raiders left them, they saw no one else.

Each day Mayday could feel the increase in temperature by several degrees so that by the end of the journey he was reasonably comfortable.

Each night he sat and checked his com, trying to get more from the message Hela sent but sometimes just listening to it, remembering, helped him.

.

Daiyu

"You ready?" Zur was waiting patiently, as Hela dressed, "It's not an Opera recital you know."

He kicked himself, immediately he said it.

The fresher door opened. No she hadn't dressed for the Opera. Everything she wore was muted, drab—not her.

They both needed to work; their credits were going down fast especially after they purchased the higher spec datapads, to search for Mayday. For Hela. To keep an eye on the Empire for himself.

"Do I pass?"

"Yes." she looked tired, she had spent hours last night trying to track down where clone regiments had been posted, then he had found her slumped over it, fast asleep, when he returned after his shift. He already had employment as a 'Bouncer' for want of a better word or security. It was better if she worked, everyone worked in some form in this place or they had to beg. They'd seen a few of those. If they didn't work questions would be asked.

.

He stood back as the human boss looked her up and down, walking around her. He was making a big thing out of it; it was a simple serving job. His customers didn't like droids, he said.

"You'd get more tips if you made yourself look more presentable. A bit of makeup, show more cleavage."

The Boss prodded her in the chest. Zur had to stop himself from lunging at him. She didn't move.

"I'll try if you give me the job."

"Smile!"

Hela gave him a forced smile.

"Better. Hands!"

She held her hands out; he turned them over and looked at them. Zur stopped breathing.

"Not done much manual work have you? Hands are too soft. But that'll soon change."

She pulled her hands from his and surreptitiously wiped them on her leggings.

"Okay. Two different shift patterns and on the night shift you have to clean up. Wages— Daiyu minimum rate."

Zur ground his teeth; it wasn't much but any would help.

The Boss looked over at the small unused stage, "know any singers or bands? Thinking it might liven the place up."

Hela shook her head.

"Don't say much do you?"

"No." She forced the word out, trying to get the local accent.

"Just as well. Lippy servers get nowhere fast. Start tomorrow. Noon. Bring your own apron."

He turned away, "And be on time. Can't afford latecomers."

Zur winked at her.

"Ask for Dag tomorrow." The boss shouted before he entered his office.

Who's Dag? She mouthed at Zur.

.

Dag was a softly spoken Pantoran, unless you messed with his food, which he was passionate about. He wore a small hat and his long hair was secured by a net at the back. His face was the same colour as Riyo's but his tattoos were different.

Hela stood frowning, as she watched him prepare the meat, which didn't look the best, not a patch on what Dex used to prepare. She sniffed, it didn't smell off, just different. She wasn't even sure it was what it was supposed to be. He wielded the cooking knives with expert precision and blood was smeared on his previously clean white apron.

He picked up a meat cleaver, from the matching set that sat on the workstation in size order; they had dark almost black wooden handles. He brought it down with such Force and precision that it split the piece of meat in half at what Hela thought was the knuckle and made her jump at the sound. He put each part in a different pile.

"So you're Zur's friend."

She nodded, still surprised he had kept his first name.

"Do you have a name, or a voice?" he asked, not unkindly and still chopping his food. He had moved on to some local pungent smelling vegetable. It brought tears to her eyes.

"Fé." She replied, blinking and still feeling odd using another name.

"Nice name. Naboo?"

She blinked, "I..I.."

"Don't want to say. Fine. Most people don't."

He scraped the prepared vegetables into a box, "Here! Put these in the Conservator. Wash your hands first and put these on."

He gave her a pair of synth skin gloves.

"Hygiene regulations. The Boss might not care but I do. Don't you have an apron?"

She closed her eyes, "I didn't know….."

"Behind the door." He pointed. "They're old but serviceable."

She pulled one off and looked at it blankly; it was a huge chef's apron and would dwarf her.

Dag shook his head, "Come here. I know the Boss said you were a bit green but…." He stared at her, then shook his head before draping the apron over her head, adjusting it and wrapping the ties around her waist several times.

"It's a chef's apron and they can be large beings."

An image of Dex came into her head, pulling on his apron and tying it; she should have remembered how to do this.

"But you're not." There was no way you could say Dag was anything other than in great shape and he saw her looking at him.

"I look after myself. There's a difference between tasting your own food and eating a whole batch. After I've cooked it and tasted it, I don't always want to eat it."

He watched her expression, "It tasted good still. Just not hungry."

He tied the apron tight and saw, her eyes wander to his knives still on the work station.

"You can borrow aprons but never, never touch my knives."

She swallowed and nodded.

He continued to let her help him up to opening time, then she was passed onto one of the servers who showed her the ropes.

.

Zur waited for her at the end of her shift; she had been on twelve hours which the Boss hadn't told her would happen until the last moment.

He nodded to Dag as he left, the Pantoran giving them an odd look as he went on his way.

"So?" He asked, as he locked up and set the alarm.

"I can't do it."

"It's only serving. You can do it."

"Not like this. Twelve hours?"

"From tomorrow you're on the same shift as me. Eight hours. You can do it."

He didn't add— you have to. She knew that. They had to keep a low profile out of the way of the Law and the criminals. Anyone could turn them in if they realised who they were.

She shuffled along next to him, barely able to feel her feet after spending twelve hours on them without hardly a break.

"I could carry you." Zur offered.

"And that's not going to look odd?"

"Hmm."

They walked slowly.

Nighttime Daiyu, seemed much the same as daytime, just as bright from the Miriam of lights adorning every building, although possibly even more busy with people thronging the streets, as they walked to the Apartment. It wasn't in the best district but not the worst either. They avoided some areas, on their way back, the ones known to be patrolled by Criminal gangs guarding their Spice factories and dens.

This was the long way home but safer.

She was relieved when they finally reached there and she could kick off her shoes and shower.