“Poor Mird.” Vau sighed. “Here, baby, come here.” He scooped the strill up in both arms and carried it to the turbo-lift. One of its legs had been seared raw by the blaster.

Etain opened her comlink. “Kal, everyone is accounted for.”

“Good work,” Kars voice said. He sounded tired. “See you at the RV point.”

Mird let Etain place her hands on its leg to heal it as the lift made its way down to the ground floor. Vau carried it all the way back to the speeder. It was a big, heavy animal, but he refused to let it walk. Etain took it on her lap and eased its pain as Vau started the speeder and they headed for the RV point.

There seemed to be nothing Vau wouldn't do for Mird. He loved that animal.

RV point, two kilometers from CoruFresh depot, 2320 hours, 385 days after Geonosis

The strike team rendezvoused at a droid-operated construction site to the north of the depot. The droids needed no light to work by and the presence of a few strangely dressed humanoids in the near darkness would draw no attention.

Skirata counted the six speeders back in, gut churning until the last of the speeders arrived with Mereel and Corr astride. Corr was clutching the rotary blaster like a long-lost friend.

Good lad. I'll shift Coruscant and all its rotten moons to hang on to him, Zey. We can always train more troopers as commandos. Just watch me.

“All thermal plastoid accounted for?”

“Yes, Sarge.” Boss leaned against the bodywork of a speeder. “Want to check?”

“I trust you to count. Ordo can slip that back into stores tomorrow after it's been neutralized.”

“What's the final score?” Fi said.

Niner eased off his helmet. Even with the environment control inside his sealed suit, he looked as if he'd sweated out an ocean. He rubbed his face slowly with the palm of his glove. “Er … I think we took out twenty-six bad guys.”

“Twenty-four at the site,” Mereel said. “We swept the site and did a tally. It was a bit hard to tell in some places but we logged the blasters that had been fired by their EM traces. So I say twenty-four.”

“Plus Perrive and our friend in the apartment block,” Etain said.

“Definitely twenty-six.” Jusik was subdued. “I felt them.”

“Okay, Shiny Boys twenty-six, Hut'uune nil,” Corr said. He was picking up Mando' a fast. “I call that a home win.”

Jusik stood staring into the inside of his helmet as he held it in his hands. “No witnesses left standing. Just a nasty argument between crime gangs.”

“You'll never get any public praise for this,” Skirata said. “But let me tell you now that every last one of you made me a proud man.” He looked down at the strill, limping on one of its six legs as it circled Vau, grumbling deep in its throat. “Even you, Mird, you stinking heap of drool.”

The strill looked up at Etain and made a musical warbling sound. She'd wrapped one arm around Darman's waist, head resting on his chest plate with her eyes closed, but she opened them and watched Mird.

“Mird likes you,” Vau said. “You took care of it and let it have its kill.”

Fi gave Darman a weary slap on the back. “She has a way with dumb animals, ner vod.”

An exhausted silence settled on the team. The droids labored around them, carrying girders, stacking duraplast sheets, oblivious. If anyone thought wild celebrations followed operations like this, they were wrong. The instant elation of seeing a vessel go up in flames or an enemy drop from a well-placed shot was very short-lived. The hyperalertness of adrenaline lingered for a while, and then was swallowed up quickly by fatigue and a sense of … of void, of odd purposelessness, of looking for the next task.

The adrenaline had to drain away. They'd be back to normal after some rest. Skirata was determined they'd get some.

“Let's get back to base,” he said. “We can clear out of Qibbu's in the morning.”

He got no response.

“Anyone hungry? Maybe an ale or two?”

“ 'Freshers,” Niner said. “Shower.”

“Who's on watch roster tonight?”

“Me,” Vau said before Skirata could open his mouth. “Go on, Bardan. You head back with Etain and Mird. I'll take Kal.”

Skirata hauled himself onto Vau's speeder. The painkiller was wearing off and the ache had started gnawing his ankle again. He opened his comlink and called Jailer Obrim.

“Kal here. How's it going?”

Obrim sounded as if he was in the middle of a riot. There was a lot of shouting in the background and then a loud muffled whump. Commandos weren't the only ones who laid charges for a spot of rapid entry, then.

“Busy,” said the CSF captain. “We've pulled in around sixty suspects so far. Pretty low on the food chain, but they lead to all kinds of other people CSF has an interest in, and they're off the streets for a while.” He paused as another loud whuntp interrupted. “I don't know where we're going to put them all, though. The lockup is filling fast.”

“Never had that problem. Our targets don't get out on parole, either.”

“I'll bet. You all okay?”

“No serious injury. Everyone's walking. Quite a mess for you to clear up, though.”

“My pleasure. CSF Staff and Social Club, all of you. End of the week. I will not take no for an answer and neither will CSF. Be there.”

“Count on it.”

Skirata closed the link and let his head drop so that his chin rested on his chest plate.

Vau squeezed into the seat in front of him and powered up the speeder. He reached behind him and passed Skirata a datapad. “Perrive's pad. Enjoy its contents at your leisure, ner vod. So, a drink or a fight? What's it to be?”

“Walon, you're very lucky I'm too tired.” Skirata pocketed the datapad, another little treasure trove for his Null boys to play with. “I'd just slap you.”

“I need to make my peace with Atin.”

“He'll still kill you after he's had a good night's sleep.”

“The brief unity of triumph, and then back to the fray. Crushing, isn't it? The victories seem so insignificant compared with the size of the war.”

“Doesn't mean we shouldn't try,” Skirata said. “It's only what individuals do that adds up to history.”

“We've written ours, then.”

It was one of the few times that Skirata found himself staring at Vau's back without feeling the urge to reach for his knife. “Tell you what,” he said. He took out the disabled remote det from his pocket. “Why don't we swing by the diplomatic quarter and pick up that nice green speeder? Perrive's not going to need it now. Can you still hotwire a speeder?”

“You bet,” said Vau.

When you can no longer know what your nation or your government stands for, or even where it is, you need a set of beliefs you can carry with you and cling to. You need a core in your heart that will never change. I think that's why I feel more at home in the barracks than I do in the Jedi Temple.

–General Bardan Jusik, Jedi Knight

Operational house, Qibbu's Hutt, 0015 hours, 386 days after Geonosis

The suite of rooms on the top floor of Qibbu's hotel looked like inventory day in the GAR equipment stores.

Fi stepped over stacked piles of armor and packs of five hundred-grade plastoid explosive and flopped into the first chair he found.

“You going to sleep in that bucket?” Mereel said.

Fi took the hint and popped his helmet seal, inhaling warm air scented with sweat, stale carpet, caf, and strill. There were times when the buy'ce was a comfort and a quiet haven, insulating him from the world, and he felt in need of that now for reasons he didn't understand or want to think about.