Republic Commando_ Hard Contact Part 20

"We there yet?" Guta-Nay asked.

"Soon." Niner hadn't found the Weequay much use so far except as a pack animal. All he seemed to know about Hokan's tactics was that they hurt bad. "Now, are you going to be cooperative, or am I going to return you to your boss?"

"You not do that! It cruel it is!"

"He'll probably just give you a big kiss and tell you how much he's missed you."

"He gonna cut my-"

"I'm sure he will. Want to tell us more about the droids?"

"A hundred."

"Any SBDs?"

"What?"

"Super-battle-droids." Niner indicated the bulky shape with his arms held away from his sides, letting his rifle hang on its webbing. "Big ones."

"No. I seen none, anyway."

"I told you we should have slotted him," Fi said. "Still, he carried a bit of gear. I suppose we ought to cut him some slack for that."

The metallic sphere of the remote rose just above the level of the trees and shot off. Niner's field of vision was interrupted in one quadrant by an aerial view of the countryside. As the remote tracked along paths and swooped among branches, it was clear that n.o.body was about, a worrying thing in itself. Then it dived in to show a familiar figure, stripped to the waist, bending over a makeshift basin of soapy water fashioned from a section of plastoid sheet.

The remote hovered above Darman as he reached for his rifle, not even raising his eyes.

"Sarge, is that you?"

Niner was staring into the business end of Darman's Deece. It was a sobering close-up. "We're about ten minutes from the RV Going anywhere nice?"

The rifle disappeared from the frame and Darman, half shaved, stared back. "Knock first, will you?"

"I'm glad to see you, too. Where'd you get that wound?"

"This one? Or this one?"

"The burn."

"A Trandoshan. Ex-Trandoshan, actually. We've had a little more attention than we'd have liked."

"The commander's still in one piece?"

"Well, this bruise is hers. I'm teaching her to fight dirty. She's catching on."

"Get the kettle boiling, then. We're bringing a guest."

Darman's faintly impatient expression dwindled below the remote and was replaced by an open view over Imbraani. It wasn't so much a town as a scattering of farms, with a few knots of industrial-looking buildings dotted among them. Atin sent it higher and a few more remote buildings were visible.

"Take it in over the villa," Niner said.

"Open country, Sarge. Bit risky."

"I think we've lost the element of surprise."

"Okay. Long lens, though."

"What you doing?" Guta-Nay asked. To him, they were traveling in silence. He couldn't hear the conversations going on between helmet comlinks. Niner switched channels with a couple of deliberate blinks.

"Taking a look at that villa."

"I know about villa."

"We all know about the villa."

Niner would have welcomed a visit from Jinart. They hadn't seen the shapeshifter since yesterday. She could have been anywhere, of course, but she hadn't made herself visible. He hoped she hadn't run into problems.

Five minutes now. No time at all. They'd be a squad again, and they'd have a commander. They'd be at the RV, and then they could rest up, eat, have a wash, and generally clear their heads. It began to feel like good news.

There was just the matter of taking Uthan and the nanovirus, then getting out in one piece.

Etain had almost grown used to thinking of Darman's armored anonymity as a friendly face. Then three more exactly like him emerged from the trees and disturbed that fragile equilibrium.

And then they took their helmets off.

It was rude, she knew, but all she could do was stare, and she found herself slowly putting her hand to her mouth in an attempt to disguise her shock.

"Yes, sorry about the Weequay, Commander," one of them said. He had Darman's voice and Darman's face. "He's a bit ripe, I know. We'll have him clean himself up."

They were utterly identical, except for one with a terrible scar across his face. The other two seemed like different moods of the same man, one serious, one pleasantly calm and unconcerned. They were all staring at her.

"I can't tell you apart," she said.

"I'm CC-"

"No, you have proper names. I know you have names."

"It's-it's not policy, Commander."

Darman lowered his eyes. "It's a private thing."

"Everyone calls me Fi," said the calm one, clearly not bothered by policy. "And this is Atin."

"Niner," the serious one said, and saluted. Etain couldn't sense a great deal from either of them, but the scarred Atin exuded a sense of loss that was almost solid. She could feel its weight. She tried to concentrate on the Weequay. She didn't need to tap into the Force to tell that he was terrified. He was bent over as if about to drop to his knees, staring up at her.

Weequay didn't all look the same. She knew this one. He had chased her across a barq field. He was a rapist and a murderer, not that the descriptions set him apart from any other of Hokan's thugs. She reached for her lightsaber.

"Whoa," Darman said.

"Girlie?" Guta-Nay said.

"I'll give you girlie," she said, but Darman caught her arm and she was instantly ashamed of her reaction. Again, it was anger. It was what stood between her and making sense of her calling. She had to get the better of it. If Darman could exercise force without venom, then so could she.

"What's he here for?" she asked, thumbing off the blade.

"We thought he might have useful information," Niner said.

Etain was desperate to be useful. She felt as if she were only capable of performing conjuring tricks: enough skills to distract, but not enough to be a functioning soldier. She also wanted Darman to stop treating her as if she were merely in need of a little more instruction. She wanted him to tell her how much he despised all that potential power wasted on a girl with no discipline or focus. He wasn't stupid. He had to be thinking that.

"What do we need to know, Niner?"

"How Hokan thinks, Commander."

"Give me some time with him."

Guta-Nay straightened up and took one step back, shaking his head. He was expecting Hokan-style treatment.

Fi chuckled. "Guta-Nay thinks you're going to cut off his ... er, braids, ma'am."

Braids. She'd forgotten. She pulled a section of hair free of her collar, plaited it as fast as she could, and fumbled in her pocket for a piece of cord to fasten it. This is what you are. Live up to it, if only to justify Darman's faith in you.

"We're going to have a little chat," she said. She let her braid fall back inside her collar. "Sit down ... Guta-Nay."

It wasn't easy for him to settle down on the ground with his hands still tied, but Etain wasn't taking any chances. He knelt and then fell sideways in an undignified sprawl. She hauled him into a sitting position and they sat outside the shelter in silence. She wanted him to calm down before she attempted to influence him.

A sudden clack of armor made her glance over her shoulder, and she was astonished to see Atin giving Darman an awkward hug, slapping him on the back. She caught Darman's eye: he looked bewildered.

Whatever had given Atin his huge emotional burden had been slightly relieved by rinding Darman well. Then the two men parted as if nothing in particular had happened. Etain turned back to Guta-Nay, suddenly very aware that for all their calm manner and unnatural appearance, these soldiers were every bit as painfully human as she was.

Bred to fight.

A new doubt was growing in her. She shook it off and turned to Guta-Nay, who wouldn't meet her eyes.

"You're not afraid," she said quietly, and visualized the gentle trickle of water from the fountain of her clan home on Coruscant. "You're relaxed and you want to talk about Ghez Hokan."

He certainly did.

"Haven't seen Jinart?" Darman said.

"Not since yesterday." Niner cleaned his armor. It didn't matter how visible they were now, and he hated scruffy rig. Darman had stripped down his Deece and was wiping the ignition chamber more than it needed it. Fi wandered around the temporary camp, cradling his rifle, keeping watch.

"Well, whether she's here or not, I think we go in sooner rather than later."

"The villa or the facility?"

"Latest intel we have from Jinart indicates the villa."

"But..."

"Yeah, but. I'd find it hard to walk away from a place I could defend, too. That villa's nothing but firewood." He put down the shoulder plate he was cleaning. "Show me that plan again."

Darman clipped the DC-17 back together and reached into his belt for the holochart sphere. "She did okay to get this."

"Our commander? Jinart seemed dismissive of her."

"C'mon, Niner. She's a Jedi. She's an officer."

"Well? What do you think?"

Darman rubbed the bridge of his nose. "She's got a lot of fight in her."

"And?"

"She's ... well, she's not exactly Skirata. But she's learning fast. And you should see the Jedi stuff she can do. There's more to it than just the fighting skills."

Niner occasionally had his doubts about nonclone officers. They all did. They never admitted it publicly, but Skirata had warned them, quietly, privately, that outside officers sometimes needed help, and while you always obeyed orders, you needed to be able to make helpful interpretations if the officer was less than specific. Officers could unintentionally get you killed.

"n.o.body's Skirata," Niner said. He was watching the commander discreetly. Whatever she had done to Guta-Nay had transformed him into a true conversationalist. She was actually looking bored, as if she'd been cornered by someone who really, really wanted to explain every engineering detail of a repeating blaster.

"You have to admit that's quite a skill," Darman said.

Niner tried not to think about it. It made him uneasy, not knowing how many of his actions were his own choice. He didn't like the other conflicts she created in him, either. He had never been this close to a human female before, and he was relieved that she was emaciated, unkempt, and generally less than appealing. The proximity still made him feel edgy, though, and from the way Darman was looking at him, it seemed they shared the realization.

They both watched Guta-Nay unburdening himself to the commander until she seemed to tire of it and got up from her cross-legged position. She walked over and looked at both of them uncertainly.

"I'm sorry, Darman," she said to Niner. Then she gave an embarra.s.sed shrug. "Sorry. Of course-you're Niner. I got a little detail out of him, but he isn't the a.n.a.lytical type, I'm afraid. I can tell you that Hokan carries a Verpine shatter gun and a custom KYD-twenty-one blaster. He's got a lot of Trandoshan equipment, and as far as any of the militia knew, there were no more than a hundred battle droids at the garrison. Hokan is also apparently something of a game player-he likes to bluff and double-bluff."

Niner considered the information. "That's useful, Commander. Thank you."

"I was going to see if I could summon Jinart. She could i probably see what's happening down there at the villa."

"Can you do that?" Darman asked.

"I can sense her, when she wants me to. I'll see if she can sense me." She stared down at her boots. "And please don't call me Commander. I haven't earned the rank. Until I do-if I ever do-I'm Etain. Darman knows that, don't you, Darman?"

He nodded. Niner didn't feel comfortable with that. He liked to know who stood where in the hierarchy of things. "Whatever you say. Can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly."

"Why did you say of course you 're Niner?"

She paused. "You feel different. All of you. You might look the same, but you're not. I don't normally identify individuals by their effect on the Force, but I can if I concentrate."

"We seem different to you?"

"You know you are, surely. You know you're Niner and he knows he's Darman. You're as self-aware as I am, as any other human."

"Yes, but..."