Republic Commando_ True Colors Part 47

There was absolutely nothing that General Zey could say or do to her that would shift the gauge with her now. Okay, she might get weepy, but that was her postnatal hormonal chaos. She wasn't ashamed.

She had a child, and that changed the way she saw the whole galaxy.

Jusik, also summoned for the refocusing conversation, sat with his arms folded across his chest like a little Skirata, exuding silent defiance. His beard was trimmed short, he'd braided his hair tightly into a tail, and suddenly he didn't look quite so much like a Jedi despite the robes and lightsaber. He looked like a man-age unknown-who'd had enough.

Etain gave him a gentle touch in the Force. It'll be okay. He turned his head slightly and smiled, and it was clear that it would not be.

"I'm delighted that you could both make it," Zey said. It was going to be the weapons-grade sarcasm today, then. "Given your very busy schedules." He gave Etain an especially long look. "The Gurlanins thanked me for your excel-lent work in evacuating Qiilura, General Tur-Mukan, and ... your help in the reconstruction process."

You can 't touch me. I have a son. All I fear is for his wel-fare, and his father's. Not mine. "I did what I could, sir."

"Intelligence reports that some of the displaced farmers have joined the Separatist resistance already."

"It was never going to be a popular decision, and yes, I in-curred more non-GAR casualties than I would have liked." Sew a label on that, Zey. "Commander Level deserves a more experienced general."

Zey was still scrutinizing her closely. She felt him reach out in the Force, seeking out what he couldn't detect with his ordinary senses. All he got was her fatigue and sense of accomplishment, but he misread it totally. "I can see it's taken a toll on you."

"It has, sir."

"And you, General Jusik ... I apologize for dragging you back from Dorumaa, but I've been concerned about you."

"I'm fine, sir."

"And I have no idea where you were for the last few weeks, but I doubt it was all spent on Dorumaa, no matter how loyal Delta are in covering for you."

Jusik didn't answer, but it wasn't a guilty silence. Zey looked from Jusik to Etain and back again, as if looking for a break in the wall of conspiracy, and obviously didn't find one. He defaulted to crashing through the wall in typical Zey style.

"I want you both to listen carefully. We are very thinly stretched, and if I had Jedi to spare, I would have pulled both of you out of active service by now. You're both competent, and I don't doubt your good intentions, but you're coming off the rails, both of you." He paused. It was the I'll-let-this-sink-in pause, and for some reason it made Etain bristle. "Now, I understand your comradeship with Skirata. He's an excellent soldier, but you are Jedi, and we're fast approach-ing the point where I can cut you no more slack. Get back on the chart. Start following a few procedures. Skirata is not your role model. He's a Mandalorian."

"Yes sir," Etain said.

Zey didn't get a word out of Jusik. "General? Does that make sense to you?"

"I think we disagree on definitions, sir," Jusik said care-fully. "Like Jedi."

"Which is?"

"I'm being a Jedi, sir. It's something you live in every interaction you have with each living thing, not a philosophy you discuss in abstract terms. And I'm not sure that the kind of Jedi the Council wants us to be is good enough."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first Jedi Knight or Padawan to be rebellious. It's normal. I did it at your age."

"Then why aren't you doing it now, sir?"

"And what would I rebel against? The war?"

"It's a good place to start."

"Jusik, I'm not blind to the concessions we have to make, but I have to answer to the Council and to the Senate, so I don't have the luxury of waging little crusades on the mar-gins."

"But that's we're supposed to do, sir-make a difference as individuals. I'm sorry, but a Jedi's primary duty isn't to keep a government in power. It's to help, to heal, to bring peace, to defend the vulnerable-and when those are just slogans we throw around, and not how we treat individuals, it's worse than meaningless." Jusik didn't seem to have bro-ken a sweat, and he left an impression of a sorrowful calm in the Force. Etain could feel a growing strength emanating from him like a lodestone. "So . . ." He paused and swal-lowed. "So I'm requesting a transfer, sir. I want to resign my commission and serve as a combat medic."

Zey's shock was palpable. His expression softened, and whatever dressing-down he was getting ready to unload on Jusik seemed to have evaporated. Etain hadn't been expect-ing this, either. This was a stranger sitting next to her: but the Jusik she had always known was in there somewhere.

"I'm not sure there's a mechanism for that, Jusik," Zey said at last.

"Okay." Jusik nodded a few times, looking down into his lap for a moment. "I've given a lot of thought to the consequences of not leading my men in the field, and whether I'm making their situation worse by doing this, but I can't live with it any longer. We sanction the use of a slave army. It's against every single principle of our belief, and it's a stain on us, and we will pay the price of our hypocrisy one day. This is wrong. Therefore I have to leave the Jedi Order."

And I've just left my baby in the care of others because I want to stay.

Etain was in turmoil. She felt as strongly as Jusik did, but she couldn't bring herself to leave now. Suddenly she couldn't see the roots of her own motives; all the certainty she'd built so carefully-precious certainty, the thing she'd craved from the earliest days when she felt so unsure of her ability to be a good Jedi-crumbled, and she felt both a coward for not standing up like Jusik did, and yet unable to walk away from her troops. "You're sure about that," Zey said. It wasn't a question.

"I am, sir."

"Then may the Force be with you, Bardan Jusik. And I regret losing you. What will you do now?"

Jusik looked as if a ma.s.sive burden had been lifted from him. He also looked scared for the first time.

"We always think the choices open to a Force-user are light side or dark side, Jedi or Sith, but I believe there are an infinite number of choices beyond those, and I'm going to make one." He stood up and bowed his head politely. "May I keep my lightsaber, sir?"

"You built it. You keep it."

"Thank you, sir."

The doors opened and then hissed shut behind him. Etain was left in a wasteland. Zey let out a long breath.

"I regret that," he said. "I really do. Very well, General. Dismissed."

Etain walked to the doors and turned around just as they were closing. She caught a glimpse of Zey with his elbows on the desk, head propped on his hands, and knew that it wasn't Jusik's resignation that had deflated him, but that he had asked and answered the question that almost every other Jedi had chosen to ignore.

It was a stain, indeed. And they could all see it.

Besany Wennen's apartment, Coruscant, 548 days after Geonosis "Aren't you a bit old to look after babies, Sarge?" Niner asked, crunching his way through a plate of crisp moss chips.

Skirata gave him that special Mando hand gesture of friendly disagreement, the one he taught his boys never to use in front of polite company. "I raised you lot, didn't I?"

"But we were a bit older, and you had a team of care droids, and you were ten years younger."

Besany topped up the bowl of chips while Darman peered at the baby. With his wispy dark hair, Venku didn't look much like Skirata, but then n.o.body had seen his kids and they would all have been in their thirties or forties now. He wondered what had happened to make them hand over a tiny child like that to a man fighting a war.

But that was Mandalorians for you. They were compulsive adopters, and if someone was in trouble, they all pitched in. Skirata certainly looked besotted. He wrapped the child in a blanket with the deft hands of a man who knew how to handle babies, and cradled the bundle against his chest with a big grin. Etain and Besany were making a show of keeping the food coming, and Etain looked upset. Well, Jusik had walked out of the Jedi Order. It was a shock for everyone.

Skirata swallowed hard as if he was going to start crying. He was so hard that he didn't care who saw his emotions, and Darman admired that. "His name's Venku."

"That's nice," Atin said. "What would you call a son, Corr?"

"Not Sev, for a start ..." They guffawed. "I'd go for Jori."

"That's not a Mando name."

"I'm still catching up on Mandalorian stuff, guys. Just a white job who's been promoted, okay?"

Darman chewed over the question. "Kad," he said. He was aware of Etain and Skirata looking at him. Maybe he wasn't showing enough interest. "Kad's a nice name."

He moved in a little closer; Etain looked uncomfortable and stared at her boots. Maybe she didn't find babies as fascinating as Skirata did, but then it was his grandchild. It was to be expected.

"Can I hold him?" Darman asked.

He wanted to show some enthusiasm, because Skirata was... fierfek, this was his own father in as many senses of the word that mattered, the man who raised him. It was rude not to admire his grandson. Darman held out his arms, and Skirata hesitated with an expression on his face that Darman couldn't fathom at all. It looked like sorrow.

"Here you go, son." Skirata laid the baby in Darman's arms, moving them into position. There was a technique to baby holding, apparently. "They don't react much at this age. They basically eat, sleep, and . . . need their diapers changed."

Darman, surprised at how heavy the bundle was, inhaled cautiously. Little Venku just smelled vaguely of powder and skin. But the baby did react: he opened his eyes and tried to turn his head, unfocused and totally uncoordinated. His eyes were pale blue-green and gla.s.sy.

"He's got your eyes, Sarge," Darman said, lost for any-thing else to say. What he actually felt like blurting out was so inane that he didn't dare: that babies were so tiny, so help-less, that he couldn't imagine ever having been'so small. He had a vague memory of babies in gla.s.s vats in Tipoca City, but that was different. This was a real live kid in his arms, and he had no idea what to do next.

"Their eyes change color," Skirata said. Yes, there was a definite huskiness about Kal'buir's voice, which usually meant he was emotionally charged about something. "They're all blue at first, pretty well. Might be totally different in a few weeks."

"Right," said Darman. "Do you want him back now?"

"You can hold him as long as you want, son."

"I don't think he's comfortable with me."

"Oh, I don't know. I think he's fine .. ." Darman felt inexplicably uneasy. The baby seemed to be doing his best to squirm toward him, and for a moment he felt as if Etain was reaching to him in the Force, but that was impossible. She was right there, right next to him, looking toward the doors as if she wanted to get out of the room as fast as she could.

"I'd make a rotten father, wouldn't I?" Darman said. Skirata looked him straight in the eye, still with that same expression that was somewhere between tears and contentment. "Dar'ika, you'll make a great dad, believe me. A terrific dad."

"Yeah, maybe, but not yet." It was the first thing that came into Darman's head. The baby scared him, and he wasn't used to fears he couldn't come to terms with or remove. "I need to do some growing up first. Here, take him before I drop him."

Great. What a stupid thing to blurt out. It always upsets him when I talk about getting older.

Skirata just smiled sadly and held out his arms to take Venku. Etain seemed uncomfortable and shot through the door. She was in a hurry to get somewhere, and Skirata jerked his head at Darman to follow her.

"Go and take some time together," he said, easing his hand into his pocket to take something out. "Just go and do normal couple stuff. Plenty of credits on this chip. Here. Go have some fun for a couple of days. We'll eat all the food and talk about you when your back's turned."

Skirata was a touchingly generous man. Darman took the credits and squeezed his shoulder. This was his family-his sergeant, his brothers-and however much he wanted to be with Etain, he needed them, too. So Niner had his answer.

"Thanks, Kal'buir."

Skirata smiled. "Ni kyr 'taylgai sa 'ad."

Darman understood what that meant. But it didn't really need saying, because Skirata had taken on the responsibility of being the commandos' father a long time ago.

"You know what that means, Dar?"

"You've adopted me. Formally, I mean."

"Yes." He patted Darman's cheek with his free hand. "Time I adopted you all."

"Are you rich, Sarge?" Corr asked. "I always wanted a rich dad."

"Richest man alive," Skirata said, half smiling. "You'll be amazed what I'm going to leave you in my will."

Skirata sometimes had his little jokes, and the commandos didn't always understand them. Darman didn't like to think of his sergeant writing a will. It was all too early for that, but then he was a soldier, and those things had to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

"We'd rather have you, Kal'buir," Niner said. "Though a country estate on Naboo is a reasonable second choice ..."

They found refuge in laughter again. Darman left Skirata with his grandson and went to look for Etain.

He found her waiting in the lobby, sitting on the fat upholstered arm of one of the sofas, arms folded tight against her chest. She looked upset. "What's wrong?"

Etain shrugged. "It's just sad, that's all."

"He's happy." Darman showed her the credit chip. "He loves kids. He'll be in his element. Look, he gave me this and said to go off and have some fun. Anywhere you want to go?"

Etain had that same expression that he'd just seen on Skirata's face. He knew he must have said something wrong, but he wasn't sure what. He unfolded her arms with a little gentle pressure and took her hand.

"The baby's upset you somehow, hasn't it?" he said. Of course; being a Jedi, Etain would never have known her parents. "Does it remind you of being taken from your family?"

"No, let's think about where we can go." She threw that switch and turned into the little general again, her wavy brown hair bouncing as she walked briskly ahead of him, hauling him by his hand. "Have you seen the botanical gar-dens at the Skydome? Amazing plants in there, a nice place where you can eat, all kinds of stuff."

Darman knew all about plants. He had his GAR fieldcraft database of everything he could safely eat if he had to live off the land on a mission, planet by planet. It was a novelty to think of plants as something fascinating to admire. But his mouth felt connected somehow to uncontrolled thoughts that just dug him deeper into this emotional mire. He had to say it. He knew what was bothering her now: she wanted him to have a normal life, and she probably thought he wanted a child now that he'd seen Venku, because Mandalorians loved their families and that was how she saw him.

"If it's the baby that's upset you," he said, "you don't even have to think about having one for ages. Not during a war. It's not a good time, is it? Not for cither of us."

There. He'd said it, and she would feel better now, let off the hook. There was no point dwelling on his shortened life span. Neither of them knew what was around the corner.

He'd take the pressure off her, because it was the responsible thing to do.

"You're right," she said. "It's not the right time." The Skydome gardens were just as beautiful and fascinating as Etain had promised. He could tell she was trying to be cheerful and enthusiastic about them, but there was some-thing sad and wounded about her that he didn't know how to make better.

Evacuating Qiilura must have been worse than she'd let on. But she'd tell him in her own good time.

Chapter 20.

Order 65: In the event of either (i) a majority in the Senate declaring the Supreme Commander (Chancellor) to be unfit to issue orders, or (ii) the Security Council declaring him to be unfit to issue orders, and an authenticated order being received by the GAR, commanders shall be authorized to detain the Supreme Commander, with lethal force if necessary, and command of the GAR shall fall to the acting Chancellor until a successor is appointed or alternative authority identified as outlined in Section 6 (iv).

Order 66: In the event of Jedi officers acting against the interests of the Republic, and after receiving specific orders verified as coming directly from the Supreme Commander (Chancellor), GAR commanders will remove those officers by lethal force, and command of the GAR will revert to the Supreme Commander (Chancellor) until a new command structure is established.

-From Contingency Orders for the Grand Army of the Republic: Order Initiation, Orders 1 Through 150, GAR doc.u.ment CO(CL) 56-95 * * *