501st: An Imperial Commando Novel (38 page)

Melusar just looked at him, not with that I’m-waiting-for-the-truth expression Zey would have worn, but with concern.
Real
concern, not an act he’d learned on leadership courses.

He might just have been a great actor, of course. Niner wasn’t about to abandon caution.

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t,” Melusar said at last. “And I don’t think there’s a quick cure, because it’s a part of what makes you a fine soldier. You’ve been in life-and-death situations. You react instantly to stay alive. It doesn’t come with an off switch.”

Niner felt terrible. He was getting sympathy he hadn’t earned. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing at all. He wasn’t like Darman, erupting and lashing out when things got too much. Was he?

I’d know. I’d know if I was losing it. I’m sure I would
.

But an insistent little voice reminded him that he always felt pursued, spied upon,
threatened
these days. The Empire kept an even tighter watch on its citizens than the Republic had. Conspicuous new public holocams were springing up everywhere, so he knew he wasn’t imagining all of it. But it was not knowing where to draw the line between the real and the imagined that was eating away at him.

“I know Darman wasn’t with you at the time,” Melusar said. “I want to talk to both of you, though.” He got up and opened the doors to summon a droid. Niner heard him. “Five-em, get Trooper Darman, please.”

The doors stayed open for a change and Melusar sat down. Niner hadn’t seen Darman since he’d walked back through the main gates and reported the incident. It wasn’t concealable from his end, whatever Obrim might have done with security holovids, and he decided against discussing it with Darman and dragging him farther into it.

Does Dar even know I came back
?

There wasn’t a lot that escaped notice in a small
closed world like this unit. Niner kept his gaze fixed on the wall, wary of making eye contact with Melusar and falling into conversation, because the guy was just too easy to talk to. Anything might spill out in that state, Niner thought. Eventually he heard brisk footsteps in the corridor. Darman marched in, helmet under one arm, and came to attention as if he hadn’t even noticed Niner was there.

“At ease, Darman.” Melusar gestured to the chair next to Niner. “Take a seat.”

Darman sat with his fingers meshed on his stomach, elbows braced on the arms of the chair. For a second, his eyes met Niner’s. All Niner could see was quiet disappointment, not surprise or anger.

Melusar closed the doors from the desk control, sinking the office back into that soundproofed, padded silence.

“I’ve not been entirely honest with you,” he said. “But I think you know that.”

Niner tried to stop himself from guessing where this was leading, but he couldn’t help it. He evaluated threats fast. He’d been drilled to do that since infancy. Only he and Dar were here; that meant it wasn’t about Squad 40, and it wasn’t about former Republic commandos, because Ennen was absent, and Ennen had a Corellian training sergeant. Common factor: two men from a Mandalorian-trained commando company. Narrow it down: Darman hadn’t been involved with blowing the truck up, so it wasn’t about the incident.

Niner could have just waited to see what was coming, but he couldn’t switch it off.

“You probably noticed that my first move on taking over this unit was to single you out,” Melusar said. “It wasn’t all about being dazzled by your dispatch of Camas. Darman, you
really
bothered Agent Cuis. I like that in a trooper.”

“I haven’t had much contact with Agent Cuis, sir.” Darman seemed to be playing it dead straight. “I’m sorry if I gave him cause for concern.”

“I’m not. You knew he was a Force-user, didn’t you? And he
knew
you knew.”

Darman’s larynx bobbed as he swallowed. “Can’t help but notice the past tense, sir.”

“Agent Cuis was killed on duty. I don’t get to hear every detail, but I hear enough. Intel is riddled with these mystics and their little cliques. At the risk of being exposed by telling you this—I want you two to report direct to me,
only
to me, and not deal with our otherworldly chums. Are you up for it?”

How did anyone say no to that?

“Define
deal with
, sir,” Niner said.

“I don’t mean neutralizing them. I’m eccentric, but not nuts. I mean to gather intel on them, maybe even derail their schemes when need be.”

“Isn’t that … treason, sir? For us, I mean.”

“Depends on your lawyer. Me, I think of it as keeping tabs on the enemy within. They’re not on the Empire’s side. The Empire belongs to its ordinary citizens. I won’t see it bled dry by these mumbling hand-wavers. Otherwise we’ve just swapped the Jedi for another secret cult.”

Melusar was definitely
not
putting on an act. He was as enthusiastic and affable as ever, but Niner watched his hands on the desk. He held his stylus in a white-knuckled fist, thumb scraping rhythmically up and down the metal clip and twanging the end with the nail. His other hand was flat on the polished wood as if he was going to stand and slap it down hard.

“We’re not the only commandos who could do this, sir,” Darman said. Good point; and Niner wasn’t sure why he was included in this conversation, other than being part of the double act. “I can spot Force-users. So can you, obviously. No magic to it.”

“I know what they used to say about Omega Squad.
Overrated Mando-loving weirdos
. Sergeant Barlex was a little more neutral
—born-again Mandalorians
. Mandos aren’t awed by Force-users. Some Mandos really hate them.”

“Plenty of men left from the Mandalorian-trained
squads,” Niner said. “Quite a few from Kal Skirata’s and Walon Vau’s, in fact.”

“But nobody left who’s been so close to the Null ARC troopers and so steeped in Mandalorian nationalism—except you two. Skirata’s own.”

Niner didn’t take the bait. “We’re good, sir, but even two of us aren’t the army you seem to need.”

“The smaller the circle, the lower the risk,” Melusar said. “But just as the Intel Force-users can’t keep everything secret from us, because they can’t avoid contact with common beings, your comrades got to know a fair bit about you. And I think you’re as motivated as I am in your own way to
reduce
the dominance of Force-users in galactic politics.”

He didn’t elaborate. Maybe he knew something, and maybe he was fishing, so Niner didn’t rush to fill the silence that followed. Neither did Darman. Melusar waited a little longer, then seemed to accept he was dealing with expert stonewallers.

There might well have been speculation in the ranks about Darman and Etain. But the chances of Melusar knowing about Kad were remote.

Darman stared at him a little longer, then put on his harmless voice. “Your family’s from Dromund Kaas, aren’t they, sir?”

Melusar seemed caught short for a moment, lips slightly parted. “The Dromund system is just a myth.”

“If you say so, sir.”

Neither Niner nor Darman knew anything more than where Holy Roly came from, but it was a big card to play. He hadn’t a clue how they’d know anything about an obscure Sith world that wasn’t even on the Republic charts. The look on his face told Niner that he felt he’d bitten off more than he could chew with Darman. Niner decided it was a good place to park the sabacc game for the time being. Melusar seemed to take the hint, too.

“Beskar,”
he said, not so much changing tack as skipping some preamble. “It all hinges on Mandalorian iron. You know all about
beskar
, don’t you? Well, Imperial
Procurement’s done a deal with the Mandalorians to mine it.
Beskar
is overkill given the existing size and punch of the Imperial Army, so this is for dealing with Jedi and other Force-users. Ever seen it in action?”

“You mean have I seen
beskar’gam
deflect a lightsaber blow?” Niner couldn’t recall. Skirata swore by it, though, and the Nulls all had genuine
beskar
armor. “Most of the Mando training sergeants wore it. It beats durasteel and other alloys hands-down.”

“Beskar’gam,”
Melusar said.

“Armor. Means
iron skin
. Mandos live in their armor.”

“Anyone who wanted to put Force-users in their place would do well to have a supply of this stuff, wouldn’t they?”

Niner could follow the logic. Melusar wanted to find some edge over Palpatine’s dark side Intel operatives. But did he know Palpatine was a Sith too? If he did, he was biting off a lot more than anyone could chew. If he didn’t, then—it was all the same in the end. Niner gave Holy Roly a life expectancy of a couple of months.

But isn’t that why we’re still here, and not on Mandalore right now? Because Dar wants to protect Kad from all this? And our whole clan? Common cause
.

“And a supply of Mando ironsmiths who know how to work
beskar,”
Niner said. “You’d be needing that, too.”

Melusar looked as if he hadn’t considered that—a quick flash of the brows, a glance to one side for a fraction of a second—and seemed to chew something over. “You can walk away from this and we can forget anything was ever said.”

Darman unmeshed his hands. “You can rely on me, sir.”

He didn’t say for how long. Niner hated these discussions made up of double meanings and inferences. Ordo called it ambiguity. Niner just saw it as being given enough rope to hang himself, but he nodded anyway.

“I don’t have any memories of Dromund Kaas, for what it’s worth,” Melusar said. “I grew up without my
father. And one day, you can tell me how you even know the world exists.”

“That’ll be interesting for both of us, sir.”

Melusar paused for a beat. “Dismissed, men.”

Niner just took the revelation with a nod, and left with Darman. They walked in silence until the doors to the central lobby closed behind them and they reached the parade ground, as private a place as any. Dar didn’t even look at him. They had about two minutes’ walk time to deal with the unsaid stuff before they were back within walls that might well have had ears.

“Sergeant Barlex,” Niner said, trying to make his peace with Dar. “Second Airborne, Two-hundred-and-twelfth Battalion. Remember him? Miserable
di’kut
. He called us born-again Mandos, and his loadmaster said they’d been up against Mandos fighting for the Seps, and he called us—”

“You should have
gone,”
Darman said. “Why the
shab
did you come back? What did you actually do? I told you to
go.
”

“It all went belly-up. Stupid bad luck, and I had to finish off a
chakaar
who saw a bit too much.”

“That’s not why you came back, though, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“I don’t want this guilt. You can’t dump it on me.”

“Hey, I’m not being a martyr, okay? My choice. I wouldn’t have had a second’s peace on Mandalore worrying what was happening to you here, and now that I know what Melusar’s got in mind, I’m glad I stayed.”

“Well, dropping the det about his homeworld got his attention, so
he
’s got to live with some uncertainty, too.” Darman slowed down. It had been raining. Small puddles had formed on the parade ground, and the night air smelled of damp permacrete. “But I like the guy. Him and
Kal’buir
—shame they’re on opposite sides. They’re both at war with the Force for the same reasons.”

“I think they both just want the Force to leave them alone, actually.”

“You know the killer question I forgot to ask?”

“What?”

“Whether Holy Roly thinks Mandalore should be part of the Empire. He does believe in the Empire, you know. Just not its management team.”

“Does the garrison at Keldabe scare you? For Kad, I mean.”

Dar shook his head. They had ten slow strides to wrap this up. “Not with the whole clan there. No.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to try to send holovid messages to Kad, so he doesn’t forget who I am.”

“That’s the spirit.
Oya
.”

Darman reached out to tap the security key code to the barracks block door. “And thanks,
ner vod
. It would have been hard here without you.”

The doors parted, and the evening’s dramas were over. Darman was on an even keel again.

Sooner or later, though, the question of when to make a run for it would come up again. All Niner knew now was
not yet
.

“It’ll be good to see Maze again,” Jusik said. “He’s not a bad sort when you get to know him.”

Ruu gazed around the cockpit of the freighter. A quick change of transponder codes had given Ny’s ship a new identity for the time being, at Atin’s insistence, and
Monarch
-class vessels were some of the most common sights around Fradian. Nobody would be looking for a specific one here, not yet, if they were looking for it at all.

“I’m impressed that Ny trusts you with her transport,” Ruu said.

“I’m a safe pilot. Goes with the extra midi-chlorians.”

Everything living had them in its cells. The more you had, the more able you were to exploit the Force.
Nothing special. Just the way I am
. Jusik had always treated
it as a knack he happened to have, in much the same way that Jaing had a flair for data technology. The knack used to be labeled
Jedi
, both explanation and identity. Now Jusik found he had expunged his sense of Jedi-ness simply by changing a word in his head to
midi-chlorians
. He was a Mandalorian who simply happened to have more midi-chlorians than other
Mando’ade
, and had been trained to use them.

I’m still finding out who Bardan Jusik is. Now I’ve peeled off the label, I can see what’s actually in the bottle
.

“Have I got midi-chlorians?” Ruu asked.

“Every living cell has them. The more you have, the more potential you have to use the Force.”

“Even animals and trees.”

“Yes.” A thought struck him. “So what happens if you’re a nerf with a high midi-chlorian count?”