Republic Commando_ True Colors Part 42

"Home," said Obrim.

He wasn't joking. At the speeder bay, an unmarked CSF transport was waiting with its rear hatch open. The para-medics loaded Fi on board and got in beside him. Obrim fol-lowed in his own speeder with Besany.

"It's amazing what you can rent," he said, as if none of the drama had taken place only minutes earlier. "You can rent med droids to look after Granny at home. So I've rented one for Fi. I mean, I'd look after him myself, but I don't know how to get feeding tubes and saline in him."

"What's your wife going to say?"

"I don't know. I just said I was bringing someone home she had to keep quiet about. She's pretty used to some of the irregularities in this job."

"Thanks, Captain. Thank you so much."

"It's Jailer. I think we know each other well enough now, don't we?"

"Yes. I think so."

The first hurdle was cleared. She'd managed to get Fi to safety, thanks largely to the conscience of a bunch of cops who were taking a risk themselves, whatever Obrim said. But the real struggle lay ahead, and it might have no ending for a long, long time.

Fi was still in a deep coma, and as far as medicine was concerned, he was dead.

But he was still breathing. Besany was getting used to see-ing the impossible happen. It could happen again.

Arca Barracks, SO Brigade HQ, Coruscant, 483 days after Geonosis Corr had the air of a guilty man, and Darman remembered that feeling from when he'd first walked into Omega Squad, after the commando brigades took ma.s.sive losses in the first weeks of the war and squads were re-formed as men died.

But Corr was RC-5108/8843 now, a member of Omega Squad proper, and not just attached to them. He walked into the barracks recreation room in his new armor-Fi's rig, helmet under one arm-but didn't seem comfortable in it.

The whole neat designation system had gone down the tubes with Corr, too. He wasn't just one of the many troopers now cross-trained in commando skills; he was a s.h.i.+ny boy, a real Republic commando, and Skirata insisted that he have the code to match even if his numbers didn't fit.

Darman was determined to make him welcome. " 'Cuy, vod'ika" He slapped the seat next to him. "Park your shebs there. We'd pour you some of the GAR-issue caf but we like you too much for that. We're waiting for Sergeant Kal."

Corr sat down as ordered, and Niner and Atin leaned across to clasp his arm.

"You can slip into something more comfortable," Niner said, indicating their bodysuits. "That plastoid can crimp the important places after a while."

Corr started removing plates as if they were burning him. "Any news on Fi?" he asked.

"Waiting to hear what happened at the medcenter." Niner pa.s.sed him a carton of warra nut cookies, which was unconditional acceptance as far as Omega were concerned. Dar-man noted that Corr wasn't wearing the synthflesh coating on his prosthetic hands, so he had some point he needed to make. "Last we heard, Sergeant Kal had sent in the heavy mob."

"Ordo?"

"Agent Wennen and Captain Obrim."

"Ah." Darman winced. Corr had been the object of Besany's interest until Ordo took his place-literally. If the former trooper felt that the Null captain had muscled in on his girl, he showed no sign of it. She'd been very kind to him while he was recovering on desk duties, he'd said. That was all.

It'd take a lot more than Besany's kindness to put Fi back on his feet.

Corr was uneasy. It was inevitable. "I just wanted to say something before we go any further."

"Get it off your chest, ner vod" said Atin. "I won't be trying to replace Fi." Corr blurted it out as if he'd been thinking about it for a long time and now wanted to get it over with. "I might wear the armor but I'm not the man, and I'm not going to compete with him. When he's fit, I'm out again, okay?"

Maybe he was being diplomatic, or he might not have realized how bad things were. Darman didn't explain.

"It's okay," said Atin. "I was one of Vau's trainees. Joining this bunch was a bit rough."

"Was not," Niner muttered. He'd never been one for a good laugh, but he tried hard-painfully hard-because morale was the squad sergeant's job as far as he was concerned. "It was Daruvvian champagne all the way."

Darman tried to join in the determined jollity, but Corr still had the dent on his chest plate where Fi had had a dis-agreement with a grenade, and there was no shared joke to be had about it. It was going to be very hard without Fi.

"So you've enjoyed a rich social education with Mereel and Kom'rk, have you?" Darman never felt he could talk about that in front of Fi, because Fi so desperately wanted a nice girl, as he put it, and any talk of relations.h.i.+ps got to him. Now he'd never get the chance. "I saw Kom'rk once, but he doesn't seem as..."

And that was as far as Darman got. Grief ambushed him. He found that all he could do was sit forward with his elbows braced on his knees, both hands to his mouth to stop the searing ache in his throat and eyes from turning into uncontrollable sobbing. He froze, scared to move in case that started him off. Eventually Corr ruffled his hair hard, just like Skirata did, and Darman got his breath under control enough to speak.

"That's what really gets to me," he said. "He didn't get what he really wanted, someone to love him, and now he never will, and I'm angry."

"Okay, Dar." Atin joined in the hair ruffling. "Udesii. You can't do anything about it now."

"He's not dead," said Miner quietly. Darman could feel it hanging over them, the conversation that had seemed fine when they didn't realize how much damage he'd suffered, but now couldn't be spoken aloud be-cause it was too awful. What was not-dead? How did the medics know Fi couldn't sense what was going on around him? Brain-dead people sometimes regained consciousness and then reported what they'd heard during the coma, and Darman could think of nothing more awful at that moment than Fi being trapped in some terrible paralysis but feeling everything. Dead was better. He wanted a cleaner end than Fi.

"Call Etain," Niner suggested. "She always cheers you up."

But Darman didn't want to call her just to rage about how unfair things were. He settled down with a holozine so no-body would talk to him for a while, and the others played blades, throwing knives into a target board divided into rings and quadrants. When he'd come to terms with this, he'd have something more positive to say to her. They could talk about where they'd go when they got some leave together. I can't imagine a mission without Fi now. The doors opened. Skirata wandered in dressed in his civvies-brown bantha leather jacket-with Ordo, Vau, and Mird behind, and simply walked up to each of the squad in turn and hugged them in silence. Then Jusik came in, and everyone turned to stare.

"I thought you were still with Delta when I spoke to you." Skirata said, and it was obvious he hadn't planned to meet him here. "What happened?"

"Delta can handle Dorumaa without me." Jusik didn't look his old self, either: he was usually the essence of calm good humor however bad things got, but he didn't seem remotely serene or accepting now. His face looked hard rather than thin; he was all rigid determination. "I was only there to slow them down last time. Fi needs me more."

"What d'you mean, Fi needs you more?"

"I'm going to try healing him."

n.o.body said a word. Jedi could heal, but they didn't do miracles. Skirata lowered his voice in that way he had when things were going badly wrong and he needed to break the news gently.

"Okay, son," he said. "But Zey's going to skin you alive. He sent you back to do the Dorumaa job again. He won't take kindly to you going off like this."

"With respect, Zey can shove it."

"You sure about that, Bard'ika? When the war's over, you'll still be a Jedi, and he'll still be your boss."

"Ah, no, that's where we differ, Kal. We've forgotten what it is to be Jedi. So I'm going to do some real Jedi work now, and help someone in trouble rather than talk big concepts and run errands for politicians. Where's Fi?"

"Jailer's found a safe place for him." Skirata turned to the squad. "You never heard this conversation. Things got a bit hairy at the medcenter, and Besany had to ... well, blasters were involved. And Jailer. And half the ATU lads."

It was the point at which Fi would have made some witty observation had he been there. The silence was painful.

"Sooner I start, the better chance I have," Jusik said. "Take me there, Kal. Please."

"They'll kick you out of the Order, son. As long as you can face that, fine."

"Look, if you won't take me, I'll find him on my own, be-cause I'm really good at that, aren't I? One of my uses. Scanning by Jedi."

"Okay, okay." Skirata got a look from Vau that Darman could only describe as disappointment. He probably thought that Skirata was being soft on Jusik. "Let's go, then. Ordo, you too."

"I'll wait here," said Vau. "Anything you want me to do to stall Zey if he shows?"

"I don't know. Delta's not going to tell him Jusik's gone AWOL, are they? And they could be gone weeks."

"It'll be a brief conversation, then." Skirata, Ordo, and Jusik left as quickly as they'd come in. Barman fought not to get his hopes up; he couldn't help thinking that n.o.body really understood what Jedi could do- least of all Jedi, it seemed-and Skirata might simply have been placating Jusik. The general badly wanted to emulate Skirata, except with the Jedi bits added like some kind of first-aid kit and early-warning system. Avoidance of attach-ment and anger didn't get a look-in these days.

But that was the challenge, wasn't it? If you had powers like that, standing apart from the messy business of life was just avoiding the hard decisions. Jusik confronted his.

"Fierfek," said Corr, sharpening the throwing knives on the durasteel sections of his fingers, "is it always like that in this squad? And how much transit time do you guys clock up?"

Vau laughed. "Ah, the clarity of the newcomer."

"What did he mean, he was only there to slow Delta down?" Darman asked.

"You know how self-deprecating he is." Vau fed Mird a cookie. "A modest man."

It hadn't sounded like that, but then Darman accepted he wasn't at his most detached today. It was a pity Etain wasn't here: he missed her, as always, but she could also have given Jusik a hand with the healing, as she had when Jinart was shot.

It was no good worrying. Etain would be back when her mission was complete, Jusik would do all that a Jedi could do to help Fi, and his own task was to stay alive long enough to see both things happen. In the end, it was Fi who stayed on his mind today, not Etain, but she'd understand why.

She had such a long time ahead of her. Fi's time had been short to start with, and had ended up far shorter than he could ever have imagined.

Jailer Obrim s residence, Rampart Town, Coruscant, 483 days after Geonosis "There's something I have to tell you, Kal'buir."

Ordo needed to get this off his chest. Dealing with Fi's plight was hard enough, but knowing Skirata was dragged down further by the apparent loss of Ko Sai's research was something he had to deal with sooner rather than later, so he could concentrate on the task at hand.

"What, son?" They waited with Jusik in the impressive security lobby of Obrim's apartment, undergoing automated scans, which showed just how many criminals had scores to settle with the officer.

"I'll understand if you can't forgive me for it."

"Can't be that bad."

"Mereel sent a message-Ko Sai gave Etain some of the gene sequences."

That got his attention. "Etain? Seriously?"

"She's got a knack."

"That's the best news I've heard in a while. Thanks, son." Skirata shut his eyes for a moment. "Is that all the aiwha-bait remembered?"

"It's turned into a negotiating game, but there's more to come."

"That's good. Very good."

"And I did something terrible to you, Buir. We have her data, all of it. I just did it to shake her down. She's completely devastated by the thought that it's gone, and it's be-come a lever to get more out of her. You convinced her it was really destroyed."

There. He'd come clean now. Skirata managed a smile of sorts, but he took it quietly. His voice was hoa.r.s.e. "Yeah, I'm much more convincing when I'm on the verge of a heart at-tack."

"I'm so sorry. I never thought I'd do anything to hurt you, and yet when it's expedient, that's just what I do."

The security scan seemed satisfied that they weren't Black Sun hit men, and the doors opened. Jusik had a large holdall that clanked when he walked and set off a metal detector in-side the hall. Ordo had an idea what it was but wondered what Jusik was going to do with it.

"Big stakes, son," Skirata said at last. "Yes, it was a nasty shock. But it worked."

"Can you ever trust me again?"

"With my life," Skirata said. "And I should be happier about this, but it's hard at the moment, what with Fi and everything."

"I said I'd make it up to you, Buir. I will." Jailer Obrim had a pleasant wife called Telti and two teenage sons who were-in real terms-older than Ordo. The boys greeted them politely and then went to their rooms as if they were drilled to vanish when awkward business was being discussed. Obrim was on duty today, but his wife seemed completely calm about being left with a comatose stranger and a med droid.

"He's through here," Telti said. She led them into a guest suite, where Fi lay looking no more than a man asleep, except for the nasogastric tube and a saline drip feeding into his hand. Besany was sitting beside the bed, her head resting on one hand; the med droid was offline, settled in the corner. "Jailer talks about you a lot. Fi can stay here as long as he needs to."

There were good people everywhere, Ordo thought, just not enough of them. He walked up to Besany and put his hand on her shoulder, and she jerked back as if he'd woken her.

"I nodded off," she said. "Have you been here all night?"

"Yes. I called in to the office to say I was sick. Then I realized it was the weekend."

"You did a good job. Probably with less damage to property than if we'd extracted him, too."

Jusik placed his holdall in the corner of the room with a loud clunk. "You can stay and watch if you want, but it's boring."

"I saw you heal Jinart," she said.

"I might not achieve the same results," Jusik said, "but it won't be for want of trying."

Ordo wanted to know how he set about doing it: what went through his mind, how he focused, what the energies felt like while it was happening. Right now, though, it was just Jusik sitting on the bed, with one hand on Fi's forehead and his eyes closed, like an act of blessing frozen in time. Ordo watched for an hour, then accepted that he wasn't contributing anything.

"Why don't you take Besany home?" Skirata said. "Come back later. If there's any change I'll call you."

"I feel like I'm abandoning him."

"Okay, but get some rest. When did you last sleep, Ord'ika?"

Ordo didn't want to leave Skirata on his own, either, even if the Obrims were there to keep him fed and watered. It had been a grueling couple of weeks; Kal'buir wasn't a young man.

"Okay," Ordo said. "I'll shut my eyes for a few minutes." He thought he had. He took off his kama and pauldron and laid them over the back of a chair, then settled back on the sofa by the window. It was the most deeply upholstered thing he'd ever sat on, and he felt he was drowning in it. The next thing he was aware of was waking up to find Besany's head on his shoulder, wondering how she could sleep with a hard plastoid plate pressing against her face, and Kal 'buir gently tapping the back of his hand. Four hours had gone. "You need to see this," Skirata whispered. "You really do." Jusik stood and stretched, joints cracking with alarming pops. "Brain tissue is capable of a great deal of regeneration, even the human type." Besany stirred. "What is it?"

"Show them, Bard'ika," Skirata said. Jusik ruffled Fi's hair, and he moved. He did it a few more times; the reaction was consistent.

"Don't get too excited," Jusik said. "He's not in such a deep coma now. That's a long way from being conscious, but he's not brain-dead, either."

"You healed that much tissue?"