Enacca's still on Togoria organizing a resistance. But she's made finding Sev her personal mission, and I feel a little..." Vau trailed off. "Shall we move on?"

"Hard to do that when we're going to be working out how to get Dar and Niner back, Walon. Can't ignore Sev."

"But we know where they are." Vau's tone was very final. "First things first."

"Okay." There was a long silent pause. Gilamar didn't sound convinced. "Uthan's started analyzing the kaminii kaminii's samples. I think we should get her to create an antigen for the FG thirty-six virus, if she hasn't already worked that out, which she probably has. It's too dangerous-Palpatine's got it, even if he doesn't know what it'll do when dispersed."

"And you trust her?" Vau said.

"As much as I trust anyone who's not one of us and makes weapons of mass destruction for a living."

"Do you trust her to create what she says she's going to create, and not just poison us all?"

"I don't know," Gilamar said. "But I don't think she knows, either. I'd like to give her a reason for working for us beyond being scared we'll shoot her if she doesn't."

"I don't think she's going to be won over by our rough Mando charm," Skirata said.

"Or the justice of our cause. Or even credits. This is a psy ops job."

"Well, I'll start working on her for an antidote. She can recreate that original virus anytime. She's got all her research with her. We ought to have control of that, just in case."

Skirata nodded, still subdued. He'd been that way for a couple of days, ever since he set eyes on Scout. "Jaing, finance report?"

At least Jaing looked happy. He radiated satisfaction.

"Even at the lowest interest rate in the galaxy, we're making fifteen billion creds a year," he said. "That's about two hundred million a week, even without compound interest. A week week. Not a bad return for a paltry credit skimmed off every bank account in the system."

They were unthinkable numbers, so far beyond the personal needs or imagination of anyone in the room that they were almost meaningless. Ordo could only think of the things that credits could never buy.

Jusik was a natural optimist, though. He applauded. " Oya Oya! We can do a lot with that."

"I bet even Walon can't imagine that much waadas waadas, and he was born stinking rich."

Skirata drained his mug. "But isn't that going to get noticed sooner or later?"

Jaing winked. "Not split across thousands of separate accounts and invested in companies across the galaxy, no..."

"Ah, my clever boy. My very very clever boy." clever boy."

Nobody seemed particularly excited about so much wealth. Ordo, like all the clones, had never needed credits until he left Kamino, and even then all his needs had been met by the Grand Army's budget. And men like Skirata came from a frugal culture. Nobody was about to rush out and buy a stable of racing odupiendos or a luxury yacht. It was all ret'lini ret'lini-just in case, a Plan B, the classic Mando mindset of always being ready for the worst. The fortune was insurance against a rainy day, intended to be spent on whatever it took to resettle as many clones as possible.

So far...it's just us, Yayax Squad, and Commander Levet. But it's early days yet. More will come. will come.

"So we can afford to buy a lot of loyalty," Skirata said. "Mereel, you think this Gaib is reliable?"

"He hasn't let me down yet," Mereel said. "He works with a tech droid called Teekay-O, They're the ones who led us to Ko Sai, remember. They know who's selling, who's buying, and who's shipping what and where, and how much. So they did a bit of digging for us, and what better way to spy on the Empire than through its procurement contracts?"

"What do they want?"

"Credits, like any mercenary."

Skirata didn't even have to ask how much. It didn't matter, as long as it wasn't anything that drew attention to Kyrimorut. "So Dar and Niner are Five-oh-first Legion.

Vader's Fist, my shebs shebs. Who is this Vader, anyhow? Never heard of him."

"Palpatine's right-hand man. Red lightsaber, Teekay-O says."

" Shab Shab, another Sith: Same old feud. Why don't all the Sith and Jedi move to some planet nobody's ever heard of and slug it out in private, and leave the rest of the galaxy in peace?"

Skirata didn't even glance at Jusik, not even to say that present company was excepted. He seemed to have erased the idea that Jusik had ever been a Jedi. Ordo wondered how Jusik saw himself, though. He never did things by half. Ordo wondered if Jusik put so much effort into being Mando to atone for some sense of guilt at having been a Jedi. He really seemed to reinvent himself.

"Anyway, saber-jockey infighting apart," Mereel said, "Vader's set up a special assassination unit of former Republic commandos and ARCs within the Five-oh-first solely to hunt Jedi, deserters, and sympathizers."

"That's us, I think," Jusik said, "Now we know where Dar and Niner are, though, it's just a matter of collecting them, isn't it?"

Skirata shrugged. "It shouldn't be too hard, but we don't have the freedom to come and go that we used to have. We're the enemy."

"And how does that stop us, exactly?" Vau asked. "It's not as if Zey ever gave us his blessing to do what we did. He didn't know about most of it, for a start."

Skirata studied his datapad. "If we work out what missions they're tasked for, we might not even have to land on Coruscant. Just show up and tell them their taxi's arrived."

"I don't think the Empire's seen me before," Prudii said, deadpan. "Or Kom'rk. Eh, ner ner vod? vod? The great thing about being a clone is that we've got literally millions of places to hide. Grab the right armor, and no mongrel's any the wiser." The great thing about being a clone is that we've got literally millions of places to hide. Grab the right armor, and no mongrel's any the wiser."

"Son, you know how many times we've pulled that stunt?" Skirata asked.

"Yes. You know how many times it's worked?"

Kom'rk inspected his fingernails. "Well, that's another problem they've brought upon themselves-it's not like they can take our DNA to prove who we are. Or stick us in a lineup."

"Well, they could could," Mereel said. "Because we develop differences but-"

"Okay, point taken." Skirata didn't start the paternal lecture about not taking risks.

This was possibly the most straightforward operation they'd ever faced. All they had to do was locate their missing brothers and show up on the day with transport; no guards to slot, no doors to blow open, no hostiles to battle through. By the time the Empire realized Dar and Niner were gone, they'd be home and dry at Kyrimorut.

And Darman would be reunited with his son.

"Any other business?" Skirata asked.

"Yes, what are we going to do about Dred Priest?" Jusik said. "Not that I know the man, but you you do." do."

Gilamar looked as if he was going to spit. "He's a hutuun hutuun. I don't care how good a soldier he is. He talks that supremacy osik osik, and we don't need his kind on Mandalore."

"Shysa would never listen to him, anyway," Skirata said. "He's too smart. Everyone knows Mandalore's never going to be a galactic empire again. Shab Shab, we haven't been a major power for millennia."

"And we don't want want to be." Gilamar was on his favorite topic now, unstoppable. to be." Gilamar was on his favorite topic now, unstoppable.

"Empires are doomed from day one. Whatever happens, however well they start out-they get too big and go rotten. They all all fall. They're fall. They're all all overthrown. It's the cycle of nature. Let's stay on the margins, moving in the gaps the big boys leave." overthrown. It's the cycle of nature. Let's stay on the margins, moving in the gaps the big boys leave."

"Too right," said a voice from the doorway. It was Ruu. "Can I come in?"

"Of course you can, ad'ika ad'ika." Skirata made room for her on the bench. "We must be bored. We're arguing about politics."

"I'm not arguing," Gilamar said. "Just making it clear that if I run into Dred and he starts on that bring-back-the-good-old-days garbage, I'll gut him. And his crazy girlfriend."

"No reason to run into him," Ordo said. "Unless you're in Keldabe."

"Don't you think it's time we started fighting for our own interests?" Ruu took the mug out of her father's hand and peered into it as if checking up on him. "I'm not saying this guy's right, but being at every aruetii aruetii's beck and call and doing the dying for them doesn't sound smart to me. Look at this world. It's dirt-poor. That's not much to show for the lives we've spent on shoring up other governments."

"Good point," Vau said. "You're definitely a Skirata."

That was an odd thing for Vau to say, seeing as no Mando cared much about biological parentage. It was a culture of adoption and blurred lines between offspring and in-laws.

He just means she says the same things as Kal'buir Kal'buir . That's all. . That's all.

Ordo scrutinized Ruu, still not sure how he felt about her. She'd fallen instantly into the role of dutiful Mando daughter, even though she hadn't seen her father since she was five. As far as Ordo was concerned she was Corellian like her aruetyc aruetyc mother. Yes, he knew that wasn't fair, and it wasn't the way Mandos did things. She had as much right to leave her past behind as Jusik, to walk on mother. Yes, he knew that wasn't fair, and it wasn't the way Mandos did things. She had as much right to leave her past behind as Jusik, to walk on cin vhetin cin vhetin, the virgin snow of a new life, judged only on what she did from the moment she threw her lot in as a Mando'ad Mando'ad. She hadn't even asked to be rescued.

But Ordo had fought alongside Jusik. Bard'ika Bard'ika had put his life on the line for the clones time after time. He was as much a brother as Mereel. had put his life on the line for the clones time after time. He was as much a brother as Mereel.

Am I jealous? Is that it? I'm an adult. I'm a married man. I'm too old to be jealous of new siblings. new siblings.

Ordo was thirteen in calendar years, going on twenty-seven biologically. He knew he'd grown up too fast to get some things out of his system or even experience them to begin with. Sometimes the small stuff hurt a lot more than he knew it ought to.

Skirata could sense Ordo's mood as well as any Force-user. He got up and walked across the room to sit next to Ordo and ruffle his hair.

"You okay, son?"

"Fine, Buir Buir."

"I know things are a mess at the moment, but it's going to work out. I promise."

It was a lie, because Ordo knew they'd probably spend the rest of their lives on the run with bounties on their heads, never able to drop their guard. Kal'buir Kal'buir had lost count of the number of death warrants out on him. Now they all had one. But a lot of Mandalorians-and others-lived their lives that way, and seemed happy enough. Ordo decided he would be happy with it, too. had lost count of the number of death warrants out on him. Now they all had one. But a lot of Mandalorians-and others-lived their lives that way, and seemed happy enough. Ordo decided he would be happy with it, too.

"What are we going to do about the Jedi when Uthan's finished with Kina Ha?" Ordo asked. "We're going to have to deal with that sooner or later."

Skirata put on his don't-worry face that said anything but.

"I'll think of something, son," he said. "I always do."

Whatever he thought of, it wasn't going to be easy-or without a price. Ordo was going to make sure that nobody here would be the one to pay it.

Chelpori, Celen, Mid Rim Chelpori was a nothing town on a nondescript planet, the worst place to hide as far as Niner was concerned.

The easiest place to vanish without a trace was a big city. That was where Niner would have gone to ground, anyway. A fugitive could merge into the mass of anonymous faces, and the more urban it was, the more shifting the population, so nobody really knew their neighbors. It was perfect.

And what am I planning to do? Hide in the middle of nowhere, or wherever Kyrimorut is. Nowhere, Mandalore. Kyrimorut is. Nowhere, Mandalore.

The CR-20 set down in an empty landing pad on the outskirts of Chelpori, just a sprinkling of streetlights and a couple of illuminated cantina signs in the darkness. It wasn't going to take long to cover it, even if they had to search every building. Niner handed out the PEP attachments, a deuterium fluoride laser bolt-on for the Deece that came in handy if you didn't want a lethal outcome. It still hurt something fierce to be brought down by one.

"So do we have to ask him to come nicely?" Ennen said.

Niner checked that his PEP attachment was charged. The indicator light glowed bright red. "Cleaner and faster than clubbing him senseless."

"This intel better be reliable," Darman said. "It's all come from their civvie police force, by the look of it."

Niner almost reminded Dar that Jaller Obrim was a civvie cop, and he hadn't done so badly. But mentioning Obrim would open a door onto that terrible night at Shinarcan Bridge. He let it go. Bry began walking to the rendezvous point with Ennen. The squad was definitely split into two pairs, not a four-man team like Omega at all. Niner wondered if he was going to hang around long enough to need to worry about that.

"The Antarian's just a civvie cop, too," Bry said. "It's not like he's going to outclass them."

Niner trailed after the others, listening in on the local police comm net. Eventually, the patrol speeder came into view, parked on the dirt road into town. Nobody got out to talk to them, so Bry went up and knocked on the side screen. He jerked back a step, then laughed to himself.

"You didn't see us coming, then..." he said as the screen opened.

An enforcement officer got out of the speeder, mopping his tunic and pants. The light from inside the speeder showed a big dark patch on his uniform as if he'd dropped something wet in his lap.

"No, we didn't," he said sourly. "Which is how come I spilled my caf. You scared the living daylights out of us."

The officer's buddy opened the other door and slid out. "Very stealthy. You going to sneak up on Kester like that?"

"If you've found him," Niner said.

"We've been keeping tabs on a guy who fits the broad description. Well, up to a few days ago."

"How broad?"

"Hair's different, and he's got a beard now. Hard to tell from his ID chip, 'cos it was a little out of date. Solid guy with scruffy white hair."

"Look," Niner said, "a few weeks ago, this man was still a serving Ranger. Are you telling me that's the best personnel ID that law enforcement agencies keep on record?"

"I'm not in charge of workforce resources, buddy." The cop shook one leg carefully, looking increasingly uncomfortable in his wet pants. "Anyway, he's rented a house, and we've picked up bursts of transmissions from comm equipment, but the frequency changes every few seconds."

"And?"

"What?"

"Transmissions." Country yokels. We're on our own here. Country yokels. We're on our own here. "Want to share?" "Want to share?"

"It didn't make much sense."

"Share anyway. We're good at making sense of big words."

The cop gave him a look of thin-lipped disapproval. The name tab on his jacket said NELIS P, and he had lieutenant's insignia on his helmet. "Something about kids. Moving youngsters to the well, whatever that means."

The cop was right; it didn't make sense. It sounded like some crude code. The target could have been a smuggler or some stim dealer, of course. But there were no rich pickings in illegal trade to be had here. There was nothing much to do on this kind of planet except hide.

Niner had his orders, and he was going ahead with them. "Okay, let's pull him in."

"We've got the place surrounded." Lieutenant Nelis took out his datapad and flashed up a street plan. Niner had seen bigger floor layouts for Galactic City shopping malls. "I've got six teams on surveillance outside. Kester hasn't left the place since yesterday morning."