by Paul S. Kemp
Runner seemed the least afflicted, so Soldier took an adrenaline hypo from the medical supplies and injected him with it. His eyes flew open, the pupils dilating, and fixed on Soldier. Dry, cracked lips formed a word.
“Soldier,” he said, his diction slurred.
“Are you able to stand? I need help to get meds.”
Runner seemed not to hear him. He closed his eyes, winced as if with pain. His mouth, nearly hidden in the brambles of his thick beard, twisted in agony.
“I can manage,” Runner said. “The power, Soldier …”
“I know.”
Since killing Maker, Soldier had bottled up the power within himself. But he still felt as if the cap might blow at any time. His body, all of their bodies, struggled to contain it.
He tried to help Runner sit up, but Runner shoved his hands away and sat up on his own.
“I don’t need you,” he snarled.
Soldier resisted the angry impulse to punch Runner in the face. “You’d already be dead if not for me. Now, listen. You and I are going to a medical facility nearby. We’re going to take the medicine we need to keep the Community alive.”
Runner’s glassy eyes shone. “Take it?”
“Yes, take it. Whatever we flew through when we left the moon accelerated the onset of the …” He almost said “madness,” but thought better of it and instead said, “… illness. We’ll need the meds or we’ll all die before we reach Mother.”
“Not you,” Runner said, as he stood. He stank of sweat, of fever, of sickness. “You won’t die.” He leered. “At least not from the illness.”
Soldier said nothing, merely stared into Runner’s fevered face.
Runner’s gaze took in the cargo bay, the clones. “Did you kill Scar and Maker?”
“I killed Maker because he gave me no choice. The illness killed Scar, and it will kill the rest of them, and you, if we don’t get what we need. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” Runner found a flask of water among their supplies, drank, and wiped his beard. “They won’t let us take medicine, Soldier. They’ll try to stop us. We’ll have to kill them. Lots of them.”
“Maybe,” Soldier said, trying to ignore the eagerness he heard in Runner’s words. He, too, felt the impulse to violence, but he could control it. Runner, with the madness taking hold, could not. But Soldier needed him. A medical facility would be guarded, even on a backwater planet. He could not assault it alone.
“We should leave now,” Soldier said.
When he turned to go, he found himself face-to-face with Seer. Beside him, Runner fell to his knees, head bowed, and took Seer’s hand in his own.
“Everything you said was true, Seer. You’ve saved us. Saved us.”
“What I say are Mother’s words,” Seer said, her eyes on Soldier rather than Runner. “And those words are truth. And now I say that we all leave.”
Soldier gestured at the comatose clones. “They’re too sick to move, Seer. And someone should remain behind with them. You should. We shouldn’t leave the ship unguarded.”
Runner clambered to his feet, his eyes boring holes into Soldier. “You dare question her?”
“Shut your mouth,” Soldier said. Runner snarled.
“The ship is irrelevant,” Seer said. “We’re not taking it when we leave this world.”
For a moment Soldier could not frame a reply. He feared Seer was succumbing to madness, too, and he was profoundly conscious of the anger pouring off Runner.
Seer smiled at him, as if reading his thoughts.
When he spoke, he kept his tone even. “What ship are we taking, then?”
“The medical supply ship that will be arriving at the hospital,” she said.
Runner rocked on the balls of his feet, as if the power within him disallowed stillness, as if he could barely control whatever impulse sought expression. He still glared at Soldier.
“How do you know about a supply ship?” Soldier asked.
“The Force. Mother.”
“Blessed Mother,” Runner muttered, still rocking.
Seer’s eyes searched Soldier’s face. He thought she looked almost sad. “Do you believe, Soldier? Do you believe me?”
Soldier felt Runner’s burning eyes on him, the heat of his fever, his faith. His thoughts turned to Wry, the way the others had torn him apart, and he shifted his weight to distribute it evenly. If he had to draw his weapon, he’d need to be fast.
“You know what I believe,” he said.
She leaned in, smiling, all danger and beauty. “Yes, I do.”
“You’ve been right so far,” he said.
She smiled, nodded. “We take everyone who can still be saved. The rest we must leave. Their faith, sadly, was inadequate to save them.”
“They can all still be saved,” Soldier said. “We’re not leaving the children.”
“I know you love them,” Seer said. “It speaks well of you. But Blessing and Gift are almost gone. They cannot be saved. Only Grace will live to see Mother.”
“You’re wrong,” Soldier said. His hand went to his lightsaber hilt. He would kill Runner if he had to. But would he kill Seer? Could he?
“I’m not wrong,” Seer said. “And you know it. These were Mother’s words, Soldier. Do you doubt them?”
Soldier did not look away, but neither did he dare dispute with her. “I’m giving each of them an adrenaline shot. If they rouse, they come.”
Seer smiled. “That is acceptable.”
“I don’t need your permission,” Soldier said.
Runner growled, and Soldier whirled on him, went nose to nose. “Something you want to say? Or do?”
Runner stared at him with bloodshot eyes, his breath foul, his breathing heavy.
“See to your shots, Soldier,” Seer said. “It will be as I said.”
Soldier left off Runner, found the adrenaline hypos from among their supplies.
“I’ll give it to the children.” He tossed some hypos to Runner. “You give it to the others.”
Runner looked to Seer for guidance, and she said, “Do as he says.”
Soldier went to Blessing. Her thin blond hair hung over a face that was too pale. He wasn’t sure she was breathing. He pulled her to him, listened for a heartbeat, and did not hear one. He took her tiny hands in his. They seemed so frail, so fragile. His eyes welled and he pulled her close. She was already cooling.
“Goodbye,” he said, thinking of her smile.
“She is already gone,” Seer said. “She has gone to Mother.”
“Shut up,” Soldier said, swallowing his sobs. “Shut your mouth.”
“I sense your pain,” Seer said gently. “I’m sorry, Soldier.”
Soldier checked Gift, found that he had succumbed also. Soldier stared into his face a long while. He had pinned his hopes—unfocused, inchoate hope, with no goal or particular aspiration, but hope nonetheless—on the children.
Vain. Useless.
He did not bother to wipe his tears. He left them on his face as a testament to his grief.
“What test of faith did he fail, Seer? What test? He was just a boy.”
Seer did not answer him.
Dull and unfeeling, he went to Grace. When he found her alive, it was as if he had been resurrected. His tears redoubled.
“She’s alive,” he said, excited. With a shaking hand, he injected the adrenaline, and she gasped, inhaled deeply.
Relief flooded him as he watched her lungs rise and fall. He grabbed her up, hugged her close.
“Two-Blade is nearly gone,” Runner said from behind him. “Hunter seems better.”
“Leave Two-Blade,” Seer said. “Blessing and Gift, too. Bring Hunter.”
“No,” Soldier said, and whirled on her. “We’re not abandoning the children.”
“They’re not your children,” Runner said.
“They’re our children,” Soldier spat over his shoulder. “Seer?”
“They have gone to Mother,” Seer said. “Their
bodies are irrelevant.”
“To you,” Soldier said.
“To them,” Seer answered. “We must move quickly, Soldier. We cannot bring the dead. Only the living.”
He stared at Blessing, at Gift, and knew she was right. He hated her for being right. He turned and vented his anger on Runner.
“A word to me about them and you die.” He stepped forward and put his face in Runner’s. “A word. Try me, Runner.”
Barely controlled emotion caused Runner’s eye to spasm. Anger curled his lips from his teeth.
It paled in comparison to what Soldier felt. Grief fed his rage, magnified it. He’d turn Runner inside out, bathe in his blood—
“That is enough,” Seer said. “Too many are dead already. That is enough, Soldier.”
Without taking his eyes from Runner, he said to her, “You may not always be right, Seer.”
She smiled. “But what if I am, Soldier?”
To that, he said nothing. He went to little Grace, who breathed deeply, regularly. At his touch, she moaned. He lifted her, cradled her.
“Get Hunter,” he said to Runner. “I have Grace.”
He eyed Two-Blade. His breathing was ragged and rapid. His skin pulsed and bulged. He did not have long. Soldier felt nothing for him. He was focused entirely on Grace.
Runner hefted Hunter and Soldier lifted Grace. Soldier gently placed her in the speeder strapped to the cargo hold bulkhead. Runner loaded Hunter next to her daughter.
“You take the stick, Soldier,” Seer said.
She sat beside him, with Runner in the rear along with Hunter and Grace.
Soldier opened the cargo bay door and activated the speeder. Its thrusters lifted it from the floor. Warm air from outside poured into the cargo bay. It smelled of vegetation, with a faint overlay of distant wood smoke. Insects whistled and chirped, all of it the sounds and smells of a living world. Soldier savored it. He wished Grace could see it.
As they maneuvered out of the cloakshape, a flock of small flying animals, perhaps startled by the appearance of the speeder, winged out of a nearby tree and into the sky.
“Perhaps they bear the souls of the dead to Mother,” Seer said.
Soldier said nothing, merely watched them go, envying them their freedom.
Jaden found Khedryn and Marr in Junker’s cockpit.
“We’ll be coming out of hyperspace soon,” Khedryn said.
“Good,” Jaden said.
“Caf?” Khedryn asked. He had an extra cup filled.
“Thanks,” Jaden said, and took it.
As Khedryn handed him the caf, his eyes fell on the lightsaber hanging from Jaden’s belt.
“You do something to that? It looks different.”
Jaden smiled. “It is different.” He took the hilt in hand and activated the lightsaber. The yellow blade hummed to life. Marr and Khedyrn eyed it.
“That was the clone’s weapon?” Khedryn asked, incredulous. “That red blade?”
Jaden nodded.
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Marr said. “You did something to the power crystal?”
Jaden deactivated the blade. “The attunement to the dark side can be cleared and replaced. It’s an advanced technique,” he said to Marr. “But I will teach you in time.”
Khedryn tapped a finger on his caf mug. “Jedi, if you could do that with the Sith, the galaxy would be a better joint. Just cleanse the place.”
Jaden smiled. “A person is not a crystal.”
“Too bad,” Khedyrn said.
“Redemption isn’t meant to be easy,” Jaden said.
“Too bad, too,” Khedryn said. “Though some of us don’t require redemption.”
Jaden chuckled, and raised his mug to Khedryn in a toast.
“May I ask a question?” Marr asked.
“Of course,” Jaden said.
“Why are we hunting the clones?”
The question was so direct that it stopped Jaden in his tracks.
“What do you mean?” he asked at last.
“Yeah, what?” Khedryn asked.
Marr visibly warmed to this thinking, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.
“What have they done? From what you’ve told me, they could have killed you and Khedryn back on the moon. Isn’t that so? You both stood in the open with the cloakshape right above you.”
“Maybe they could have,” Jaden said.
“But they didn’t. And yet … we hunt them.”
“You didn’t see the inside of that facility, Marr,” Khedryn said. “You didn’t see … the place where they put the doctors and the Imperial troops. Even stormies don’t deserve to go out that way.”
“They lived a long time on that moon. Alone. They were experimented on in horrible ways.”
“They were alone because they slaughtered everyone else,” Khedryn said. “These clones were made by Thrawn to be weapons. And weapons want to be used.”
Jaden listened, turned his thoughts over in his mind.
“These are people,” Marr said. “Not items. They have sentience, agency. That the Empire bred them to be weapons doesn’t make them weapons. They can choose otherwise.”
Khedryn shook his head as he sipped his caf. “You sure about that?”
Marr looked down and shook his head. “No. But maybe they just want a life for themselves. People aren’t equations, Khedryn.”
Khedryn smiled. “That’s odd to hear coming from you.”
“What do you think, Master?” Marr asked.
“You are awfully quiet, Jedi,” Khedryn said.
Jaden put down his mug. “I think you’re both right. Biology isn’t destiny or we’re all just droids of flesh. Choice is what makes us human. But biology does constrain choice. Can the clones choose a path other than the violence for which they were bred?” He shrugged, swirling the caf in his mug. “Maybe. But the clone I faced on the moon was insane, and powerful in the dark side of the Force. If the others are like him, they’re potentially dangerous. At the least we must take them into custody.”
“At the least,” Khedryn said.
Marr nodded, but Jaden felt his ambivalence. He had no words to dispel it.
“Maybe we’ll never find ’em,” Khedryn said. “Won’t be our problem, then.”
Ahead, Soldier saw the haphazard city of Farpoint rise out of the dust of the plain. To the west stood an expansive landing field littered with ships. A few swoops and speeder bikes dotted the sky.
Most of the buildings within the city were single-story, ramshackle structures built of corrugated metal, native wood, and whatever other materials builders could scavenge. The few multistory buildings of the city sat in the city center, the tallest about ten stories. It hit Soldier as they approached that their profile reminded him of something.
A ship’s bridge.
In fact, the entire outline of the city looked like an elongated version of a cruiser or dreadnought, as if a giant had smeared a ship across the surface of Fhost. The city had been built on its skeleton. Over time, it had accreted additional structures, lost others, but the outline was still vaguely visible.
He wondered about the ship’s origin as he steered the speeder along the cluttered, narrow streets of the city. What had the ship’s crew been looking for? Had they found it, before they died?
“What are you thinking?” Seer asked him.
“Nothing,” he said.
Dust coated everything. Speeders, swoops, wheeled and treaded vehicles, even primitive wagons pulled by a large reptile of some sort made the streets a crowded mash up of technology. Sentients of many species stood in shop doors and strode the walkways. The aroma of sizzling meat and exotic-smelling smokes leaked from some of the structures.
Soldier had never seen so many people in one place, so much activity. He wished to just get out and walk around, take it in.
“There,” Seer said, pointing.
A cylindrical ship, the center of it a large cargo bay that looked like a distended belly, descended
from the blue sky toward the city center.
Five uniformed sentients on swoop bikes—they looked like tiny bugs beside the supply ship—flew escort. The ship flew toward the tallest of the buildings, built from the remains of a crashed ship’s bridge tower.
“The medicine you want is on that ship,” Seer said.
“How do you know?” Soldier said.
“You know how she knows,” Runner snapped.
As they watched, a portion of the roof of the ten-story building—the medical facility, Soldier surmised—folded open to reveal a rooftop landing pad.
“We’ll have to get up there, then,” Soldier said. Their speeder would not go airborne. They’d have to enter the hospital at ground level and get up to the landing pad.
A signal horn beeped behind them. Soldier had stopped in the middle of the street to watch the descending supply ship. A Weequay, the skin of his face as wrinkled as old leather, shouted at them and brandished a fist from his open-top speeder.
“Move it!”
Soldier felt Runner’s anger spike.
“Don’t,” he said, and reached back to grab Runner’s arm, but it was too late.
Runner made a sweeping gesture with one hand, and the Weequay’s speeder looked as if it had been hit broadside with an enormous wave. It teetered on its side and slid across the street, onto the sidewalk, crushing several pedestrians, and into an adjacent building. Metal shrieked and bent. Glass shattered. The building half-collapsed with an angry rumble. One of the Weequay’s speeder’s engines sputtered and burst into flames. Black smoke poured into the air.
Passersby shouted, pointed at Runner. The wounded screamed. Vehicles stopped, the people within gawking. Pedestrians streamed toward the site. Soldier cursed, honked his signal horn to clear a path, and accelerated the speeder away.
“What are you thinking?” he shouted at Runner over his shoulder. “Idiot.”
“Shut your mouth, Soldier. They won’t connect the accident to us, and the damage and casualties will bring the authorities there. Med evac, too. That will work for us.”
