Zey ran his huge hand through shaggy graying hair, eyes shut. "Right up to the moment the blaster bolt hit the wall a meter from me. I didn't even sense his emotions."

"Good man, Maze."

"Good friend. Yes."

"Come on, I'll show you to a room. We've got plenty. Kal will calm down, and then we can talk sensibly."

" Buir Buir means father, doesn't it?" means father, doesn't it?"

"Yes. He adopted me."

Zey didn't say another word. He just put his hand on Jusik's shoulder as they walked down the passage, diverting via another corridor to avoid the kitchen. Jusik could hear the voices there. He showed Zey into one of the spare bedrooms still waiting for deserters in need of a new identity, threw him a towel from the cupboard, and left him to clean up.

Then he went in search of Jaing.

Jaing was in the small workshop that he'd set up in another bedroom. Screens and scopes covered every shelf, and a thick wooden plank of a workbench stretched across the width of the wall. Kom'rk had claimed a corner to himself and was hunched over a 2-D holochart, tapping numbers into a datapad, completely absorbed in the calculation.

"Who'd have thought it, Bard'ika Bard'ika?" Jaing said, not looking up from the screen in front of him. "Saucy old di'kut di'kut, showing up like that. Moral of the story-always go back and check for a pulse."

"Ordo's never going to live that down," Kom'rk muttered. "Ha...ha..."

Jaing printed out some more data. "Is it hard for you? Zey, I mean. The Master-Padawan relationship must be pretty close."

"No different from families. Or marriages." Jusik didn't want to be dissected. "Some are great. Some aren't. Some don't get on at all. Me and Zey...I don't know. More managerial than paternal."

"But he's not an innocent bystander like Kina Ha or Scout. Command rank's got to mean something." Jaing paused, smiling to himself as if he'd found something juicy in the files. "Still, it's hard to cap someone who's just standing there looking pathetic, even when you know you'll regret it one day if you don't."

"I'll do it," Kom'rk said. "Nothing personal. Just necessary."

"Or we could use them to our advantage." Jaing tapped his finger on the pile of flimsi.

"Because one day, the Empire's going to really tick us off, and we'll need the skills of some saber-jockeys who owe us."

Kom'rk laughed. "They've owed a lot of people for a long time. Don't see much of them repaying their debts."

"Yes, but there are ways of enforcing moral obligation." Jaing grinned. He always did.

He enjoyed problems and had complete confidence of his own ability to solve them. "Like by keeping a firm grip of their gett'se gett'se."

Jusik could see the logic. And he found it telling that Jaing could think of him as both an ex-Jedi and a non-Jedi in the same breath. " Buir Buir wants the Jedi out of our lives, advantages or not." wants the Jedi out of our lives, advantages or not."

"Let's not be too hasty. We know where their bolt-holes are, and with a little ingenuity we can track their movements. They step out of line-the Empire gets a treasure map with here be Jedi here be Jedi on it." on it."

Kom'rk laughed again. "That boy's sick."

"You got that location yet?" Jaing asked. "Chop-chop. Get a move on."

"In a minute. It's looking like the Plawal Rift."

"What is?" Jusik asked.

"Their main safehouse for their kids. I think they call it Plett's Well. Some of the data on here is from the Jedi Temple archives."

Blackmail; it sounded ugly, but having dirt on others and others having dirt on you was a glue that bound folks together across the galaxy. It was as much a power for balance and harmony as the Force.

"Of course, if we know where they're holed up, we could just wipe out the rest of them now," Kom'rk said. "Or even do a deal with the Empire. But I don't trust any of them."

Jusik took to heart the Mandalorian saying that an enemy's enemy wasn't always your friend. If they were, then it wouldn't be for long.

"Ordo thinks I'm going soft on my old associates," Jusik said. "I can't blame him."

"Are you?"

"Do you you think I am?" think I am?"

"Nah. Do you want me to shoot you if you are?"

Kom'rk had that kind of deadpan humor. But humor had its serious purpose in life.

"Yes," Jusik said, half-meaning it. "Make it before I do any real damage."

Jaing just looked up at Kom'rk, the slightest pause as if it wasn't funny.

"You got it, ner vod ner vod," Kom'rk said, and went back to his holochart.

501st Special Unit barracks, Imperial City "The droid came in to fix your helmet," Rede said, strapping on his belt. "It's over there.

He said there was nothing wrong with it and you need to read the manual."

Darman draped his towel around his neck, rubbing his wet hair with one end, and stared at the helmet sitting on the bunk. He couldn't recall reporting a fault. Then it dawned on him; the droid was Jaing's buddy, the one that had modded Niner's bucket to give him a secure route to the Nulls. Jaing didn't hang about. The audio link was installed.

I can talk to Kad. I can talk to Fi and Atin, too. And Corr. And Kal'buir Kal'buir . .

Darman's mood lifted instantly. It was almost as good as being there. He checked the chrono on the wall and tried to work out what time it was at Kyrimorut, then realized he had no idea because he didn't know where the place was. Without a reading for longitude, he couldn't work it out.

I'll call anyway. Whoever answers won't mind being woken up.

"We haven't got got a manual," Darman said. a manual," Darman said.

"Maybe he was joking."

Maybe Rede was, too. It was hard to tell. The kid soaked up experience and knowledge like a sponge, and Darman found it a bit unnerving. He found himself saying things that Skirata used to say back on Kamino, when he was surprised by how fast clones assimilated things, and how they changed before his eyes.

They grow up too fast.

Is that Sergeant Kal's voice, or mine? And who am I talking about-Rede, or my son?

A month was nearly a couple of years in terms of Rede's development. Darman watched him going through the checklist on his DC-17, with none of the unconscious ease that years of using the rifle had given the Kamino commandos. He wondered if that meant Rede would carry on aging at that same rate. It was a pretty depressing thought. The new clones might be even worse off than Darman's generation.

He knew that Kal'buir Kal'buir had Dr. Uthan working on a way around that. But he wasn't going to bank on it. had Dr. Uthan working on a way around that. But he wasn't going to bank on it.

Niner was still in the 'freshers, but Ennen was sitting on the edge of his bunk, half dressed in his undersuit and lower body plates. He was staring at the floor tiles. The squad was supposed to muster at 0600 hours, which didn't leave any time to slob around.

Darman rapped the chrono on the wall to get Ennen's attention.

"Hey, look sharp, ner vod ner vod. Doors to kick down, stuff to blow up."

Ennen took a few moments to react. "What's the point? Where's the peace and freedom and all that garbage we were supposed to see when we got the job done? What is is all that, anyhow?" all that, anyhow?"

Darman knew it was about missing Bry. He'd seen it before with other men. They would go on coping with losses for a long time, and then one death-not always their closest brother, but usually-would hit them hard enough to knock the stuffing out of them. Ennen had fought for three tough, bloody years alongside Bry, and now Bry was gone.

Dar and Niner had something to look forward to. It might have been out of reach at the moment, but it was there; it was full of promise and potential that he could still see, even through the daily pain of thinking of all the ways Etain wouldn't be there to share it with him.

I've got a son. I've got a home to go to one day. So has Niner.

"You want to talk, ner vod? ner vod? " "

Ennen glanced at the chrono on his wrist. "We got to go now." He stood up and attached his chest and back plates. "The war's over. It's over, and Bry made it, and then he gets killed when it's over when it's over. If I thought there was a purpose to it, something more than this, I think I could take it. But it's just going to be this day after day, isn't it? Until we're all dead with nothing to show for it."

The sound of running water stopped. Darman could hear Niner whistling as he dried himself. In the sergeant's absence, he had to deal with this.

"Ennen, you just have to get through this bad patch." How could Darman tell him he knew knew how pointless life could feel, because he'd lost his wife? "We've all been there. Even Delta, remember? Look, Holy Roly doesn't mind us going to cantinas. When we get back, how about we go and get an ale, and work all this out?" how pointless life could feel, because he'd lost his wife? "We've all been there. Even Delta, remember? Look, Holy Roly doesn't mind us going to cantinas. When we get back, how about we go and get an ale, and work all this out?"

Ennen stared at him for a moment as if he was looking for the catch, then nodded.

"Yeah. Let's do that. If I had something to make sense of this, some end in sight, it'd make a difference. I just can't see anything."

Is he asking? I don't know how guys get to find out about Kyrimorut. Shall I tell him?

It was a tough call. Just mentioning the place was a big risk, because it revealed what Darman knew and suggested he knew a lot more, which he didn't. Ennen hadn't been raised by Mando Cuy'val Dar Cuy'val Dar anyway. But neither had Levet, and Niner said he'd deserted to Mandalore, too. anyway. But neither had Levet, and Niner said he'd deserted to Mandalore, too.

I'll find a way to tell him, but not now. I need to ask Ordo how to do this.

Niner reached for his undersuit. "We all okay here?"

"Ready to roll," Ennen said, putting on his helmet. He switched completely. All a guy could do was get a grip and carry on for the moment. "Still the lower levels sweep?"

Niner nodded. "The cops did a routine stop on a human male with a stolen speeder and he pulled a lightsaber on them. Wisely, because they're not total di'kute di'kute, they pursued him at a safe distance and now they've got a wall of squad speeders surrounding the place he holed up in. Why they always bolt to the lower levels I'll never know. Too obvious."

Mandalore was an obvious bolt-hole, too. But, unlike Mandalore, the lower levels of Imperial City were still a place where people could vanish.

"What's di'kute? di'kute? " Rede asked. " Rede asked.

"Don't encourage them, kid," Ennen said. "They'll turn you into a Mandalorian. You wouldn't want that."

Rede paused. Darman could always tell when he was consulting the heads-up display in his visor because he wobbled a bit as if he'd lost his balance for a split second. He wasn't used to the mass of images and telemetry filling his field of vision while he was trying to look past it at what was in front of him. He just hadn't had enough time alive to get used to it. It was still disorienting. Darman and Niner had worn HUDs almost everyday since they were old enough to hold a spoon to feed themselves.

"I know now," Rede said. He'd obviously digested the data under M for Mandalore.

"Yeah, I know what a Mandalorian is now."

Niner leaned close to him as they filed out. "That database," he said, "will tell you nothing nothing worth knowing about Mandalore." worth knowing about Mandalore."

Rede didn't answer. Maybe he couldn't yet read his HUD, watch his environment, and talk at the same time.

There was a LAAT/i gunship waiting for them on the landing pad. Darman hadn't expected to see so many still in service, given the speed with which the Empire had rolled out new hardware, but they were brand-new vessels by military standards and the Empire wasn't stupid enough to junk everything from the old regime. Like the metamorphosis from Chancellor to Emperor, the change from Grand Army of the Republic to Imperial Army was often a lick of paint and a new name. The gunship had the new Imperial livery and symbols.

It's still a larty.

Darman was secretly pleased to see it. He jumped in knowing where everything was.

In pitch blackness and upside down, he could find every switch, handle, and safety device.

It was a little bit of what he used to think of as home, and the engine's noise was-as it always had been-a soothing voice speaking of rescue, resupply, and safe haven. Rede stood beside him in the crew bay and grabbed a deckhead strap.

"You ever done this in the city before?" Niner asked him. "It's like nothing else. Just seeing as much of a building below you as above you is weird."

"Yeah, and the neighbors love us flying by and gawking through their windows,"

Ennen said. "You'll be amazed what you can see. Use your infrared filter for a real laugh."

Poor Rede; Darman doubted his flash training-flash training ten times more rushed and compressed than any Kamino clone's-helped fill in the gaps there. The pilot had the cockpit door closed, so there was no opportunity for banter. The gunship lifted off high over the barracks, making Darman's teeth vibrate with that familiar frequency, and wove its way between the towering city blocks.

Fi loved this. He really got a kick out of the city. I can talk to him now. It's been- what, best part of two years? He's married. He'll have kids by the time I get to see him.

Niner's voice cut in. The lack of an audio icon in Darman's HUD told him this wasn't an official comm channel.

"So you're wired, Dar..."

"Can they hear us?"

"No. But Ordo or one of the others probably can."

That was fine. Darman had no secrets from them. "When we get back, I'm going to ask to talk to Kad. I want to tell him why I'm not there for him."

"Yeah, we can do that from time to time."

"Have you spoken to the others?"

"Not yet. You know what I'm like, Dar. Still got to be careful."

"I think we should let Ennen know about Kyrimorut."

"He's pretty down, isn't he?"

"He needs some light at the end of the tunnel."

"Okay, but clear it with Ordo or Kal'buir Kal'buir."