The road narrowed and they were in another neighborhood all side streets and winding alleyways. They passed local Hadde patrols that waved them through intersections. Feeling it had become a shorthand throughout the Grand Army for the increasing agitation and hair-trigger anger that troopers experienced as the war progressed. Darman had his moments. Some nights-not many, but enough-he had nightmares; being engulfed in flames in the warehouse raid on Coruscant had come back to haunt him for reasons he couldn't fathom. It wasn't the shattered bodies on the battlefield or the faces of his first squad that disturbed him. It was the fire.

Poor old Scorch. Darman understood.

"I'll talk to him later," Etain said adjusting her comlink earpiece. Her tone indicated that talk was going to be something a little more intensive. "Here we go. Cordon ahead."

Niner brought the speeder to a halt beside Delta's. Dozens of local militia milled around heavily armed and watching every angle, but Darman still kept the repeating blaster on full charge. One of their officers jogged from the inner cordon toward Delta's vehicle. Boss redirected him to Etain with a jerk of his thumb.

"We sealed off the area within ten minutes, General," said the officer. "We might have lost them by now, but we've pinpointed one house as a launch site." He turned to indicate the road at his back and gestured left. "The street is shut off at both ends, as you requested. The houses are still occupied as far as we know."

"Haven't you checked?"

"No, ma'am. We left it for you. We didn't encounter any fire."

Etain didn't say anything, but her tight-lipped expression said she was underwhelmed by their commitment. Darman wondered why they didn't just arrest their own problem citizens and be done with it, but they were clear that they wanted the GAR to go in and kick down doors. And it couldn't have been because they felt Scorch needed the therapy. Darman bet that the show of GAR strength was a bracing reminder for any citizens thinking of going over to the rebels.

"Maybe the locals don't want to be seen dragging other locals away for questioning," Atin said, almost a whisper on the helmet comm circuit. The two squads could hear each other. "But it's okay for us to play the bad guys."

"He might just want to reassure people that we're here and we're cracking down," said Niner.

Corr had fallen into a new and totally un-Fi-like role: squad cynic. "Of course, it might also be that they're militia one day and rebels the next..."

"Can't trust 'em." It was Scorch. "Any of 'em. They'd all put a round in us given the chance."

Scorch wasn't joking. Darman could hear it in his voice. He could never predict what was going to be the final straw for anyone, and he wasn't sure why the attack on the base was any more traumatic for Scorch than previous missions. But it obviously was. Perhaps it was because Scorch associated the mess with sanctuary, and now even that haven was a battleground.

He'd ask him later.

"Okay, prepare to dismount," Etain said.

The eight commandos walked into the deserted streets under the cover of the two Nek Pups, split into two rifle teams. Darman checked the remote aerial view; there was nothing on the roofs, and nothing in the walled courtyards. Outside a door, a small dark brown animal of a species that Darman didn't recognize sat cleaning itself. He checked again and magnified the image.

In the rear courtyard of the largest house, a big patch of charred vegetation was clearly visible. It was easily big enough to be the downdraft burn from an Arakyd Huntmaster missile. You could haul those things anywhere and move them in minutes, and that was what had hit Hadde Base.

"Of course, the guy could have just had a barbecue," Darman said.

Sev cut in. "Well, let's go and check out his sausages, then ..."

"I don't like this." Etain was still carrying the cone rifle, but this time she drew both lightsabers from her belt. One was hers, and the other was her dead Master's. Shab, had she changed a lot since Darman had first met her. But even then, back on Qiilura when she had been under cover for so long that she didn't even know there was a clone army, she knew that she didn't know it all, and she trusted her troops to put her straight. She activated one lightsaber and stared at the target building as if she was willing the doors to open.

"I can sense a lot of beings in these buildings ... plenty of armaments . . . hostility. Let's hope they've got the sense to "stay inside." She simply walked up to the doors-a bold move even for a Jedi-and hammered on them, lightsaber still clenched in her fist. "Grand Army-open up!"

"Wow," said Sev. "Bold. And dumb."

"Open up, or stand away from the door," Etain yelled. She had no concept of cover, but she was a Jedi, and she had her own early-warning system. Darman was watching her back anyway. He'd smack Sev later for the wisecracks. "Your call. Lay down your weapons and come out."

There was still no answer. Rapid entry with a Jedi wasn't quite the same as with a regular team, because she could sense things nobody else could and when Etain cocked her head and then backed away from the door, Darman knew she'd detected something specific.

"Six or seven individuals in there, cannoned up," she said. "I'd hoped for a surrender. Never mind. Open the box, Dar. Let's see what we shake out."

"Ma'am," said Scorch, "permission to join the assault team?"

Scorch needed to do it, and Etain seemed to understand that. "Granted."

Darman was struck by how much more soldier she was than Jedi now. He liked that. She understood. It made him feel safe, certain that they were all going home in one piece. One Nek Pup moved up, its forward repeating blaster elevating to line up for a possible wall breach.

"Omega, go," Etain said. "Dar, stand by."

Darman had never used the Merr-Sonn breaching grenade before. The stand-off rod made his Deece feel oddly unwieldy, but at twenty meters he didn't think he'd miss the entrance. Atin, Corr, Scorch, and Niner stacked either side of the front doors, but much farther back than usual. Delta stood by as security, ready to deal with fire from other locations.

As Darman sighted up he held his breath for a moment, it was suddenly so quiet even with the steady burble of the Nek Pups' drives that he could hear a baby crying somewhere. Etain jerked her head around.

"The kid's streets away," Darman whispered. He could sec it had distracted her. "We're fine. On your mark."

Etain gave him a grim, close-lipped smile as if she was going to burst into tears. It was just a second no more. Then she was her old self again.

"Take it out," she said. "Fire."

Darman squeezed the trigger.

It definitely beat shooting out the doors from point-blank range. The rod struck the metal plating, and the sheets blew apart with such neat precision that there was just a loud explosion and a flare of dust before the doors simply fell in through the opening like an entry ramp. Scorch threw a grenade hard through the opening, the squad rushed the doorway, and the firing started.

Blue-white blasterfire lit the doorway and windows like a chain of pyrocrackers. Darman switched to blaster mode again and got ready to pick off any troublemakers, but over-watch wasn't a role he felt comfortable with when his squad were clearing a house.

I got separated from my squad at Geonosis.

Why he was thinking about that now, he had no idea. The flashing and cracking of blasters stopped suddenly. Then there was a massive whoomp and the roof of the two-story building erupted sending tiles raining onto the street in a ball of dust and splinters. Etain ducked; debris diverted from her in midair, a neat trick if you could do it. Darman felt it rattle on his armor.

"Shab, Scorch ..." It sounded like Corr. "Happy now?"

"Omega, we're clear." Niner's voice filled Darman's helmet. "Four live prisoners, three dead."

One Nek Pup moved in close to the house to provide cover while the other stayed focused on the silent homes around them. The neighbors weren't exactly craning their heads out the windows to watch. Three men and a woman came out with their hands on their heads, stumbling and unsteady, with Corr, Atin, and Niner at their backs, DC-17s aimed.

"Missile launcher in the rear lean-to," Niner said "and plenty of rifles, mortars, and anti-armor rounds. Hey, someone get the militia to take these jokers, okay?"

And then Scorch came out.

He was dragging a body-a burly male, from the looks of what was left-by one leg. That was no mean feat even for a fit commando. He dumped it in the center of the street between the Nek Pups, making no attempt to maintain cover, and went back into the shattered building.

They could have left the bodies for the militia to sort out, like the damage to the houses on either side. Darman went to help him, but Etain stopped him with a touch on his arm.

"Just cover him," she said. "I wouldn't step in now if I were you."

She felt something nobody else could. But you didn't have to be a Jedi to know that Scorch was in trouble. Darman heard Sev mutter something, and Boss responded "Negative, Sev. Don't."

It took him several minutes, but Scorch hauled out all three bodies and arranged them neatly in a row. Darman thought that was the end of it, an act of closure that the locals would note, and remember that helping out the rebels-if it meant attacking GAR personnel-was a dumb idea that would end in tears. As hearts and minds went, it was definitely negative. But Darman could see why Scorch wasn't in the mood to hand out candy to local kids.

Was it only two years ago that I wanted to save the locals from the wicked Seps on Qiilura? Wow, talk about being naive. . .

Scorch, Deece held one-handed cocked his head as if he was studying the haul of dead belligerents. Darman thought he was going to walk away, at least satisfied if not purged but instead he took aim and sprayed the bodies with blasterfire. Darman heard the same intake of breath from at least three other helmet links. Then, as soon as he'd started, Scorch stopped, pulled off his bucket one-handed, and spat eloquently on each smoking pile of remains; Darman didn't realize Scorch had that much spit in him. When he was finished, he put his helmet back on and walked over to the nearest Nek Pup to sit down on the running board.

"Just as well we got the right house . . . ," Corr muttered.

Folks around here would probably see Scorch's display as contempt, a message-as if it needed underlining-that you didn't mess with the Republic. But Darman saw a brother who had been tipped over the edge and couldn't articulate his anger any other way, maybe just temporarily, maybe for good. Darman had seen it once or twice with clone troopers, and how their brothers had swept up the pieces and kept them together, but he didn't know what happened to the ones who couldn't snap back to rights after a break. He thought of what nearly happened to Fi, and realized he could guess.

Etain gestured to the militia waiting on the barricade to move in. "Okay, the local force can clean up and search the rest of the houses, just in case. Probably better if we stand down now." She seemed to take Scorch's reaction calmly. "I'll go see Scorch."

She sat down on the running board next to Scorch and took his gloved hand in hers, which made Darman feel a little odd. He caught some of what she was saying. She was telling Scorch that she understood, and she could make him feel better for a while, as long as he didn't object to her influencing his mind to get him through the rest of the day. A faint click in Darman's ear interrupted his eavesdropping, indicating someone had switched to the squad-only comm frequency.

"Everyone okay?" said Niner. Darman knew what he meant. He wanted to know if anyone else was going to lose it like Scorch. " 'Cos let's talk about it if you're not."

No, you never knew what was going to get to you, and sometimes it was the least expected things.

There was a sudden pee-yong-pee-yong sound and Atin snarled.

"Shab, some chakaar taking potshots."

They all wheeled around to locate the position. There was someone on a roof on the other side of the street. The guy from the 14th opened up the Nek Pup's repeater, and his first burst took the rain recycler off a nearby roof before he managed to concentrate his fire on the same place as everyone else. They'd already sighted up, returned fire, and withdrawn behind the barricade by the time Atin worked out that the round-a projectile-had been stopped by his armor.

"I'm okay," he said, sounding embarrassed and trying to twist his neck far enough to get a look at the gouge in the paint on his shoulder plate. "Mark Three armor, my best buddy ... shab, that would have ruined my day."

"Nice shooting, mir'osik," Darman called to the gunner from the 14th. Even a Weequay could have hit the target at that range. "Who the shab trained you?"

"Flash-trained" the trooper said deadpan.

"Well, tell Flash he's osik at training . . . look, you want some marksmanship remedial class? Just ask."

"Leave the poor white job alone, Dar." Corr, relatively fresh from the meat-can ranks himself, sprang to the defense. "First deployment."

We were great on our first mission. What's his excuse?

Actually, it hadn't been great at all. The Jedi generals, utterly untrained, hadn't a clue. Half the commando strength at Geonosis had been killed, deployed as basic infantry, in the wrong place with no air support. Darman shut up. Corr had a point.

"Sorry, ner vod," Darman said. "When did you leave Kamino?"

The trooper hesitated for a moment, as if he'd forgotten. He took off his helmet to wipe his forehead and the expression on his face was one of very brief disorientation, not an attempt to be evasive.

"We arrived at HQ a few weeks ago," he said.

"I bet it's still slashing down with rain in Tipoca. It never stopped. Never a clear day. Ever"

The trooper's frown deepened. He flipped his helmet over between his palms as if he was about to put it on again. "Bone-dry when I embarked" he said. "Don't recall it raining at all."

"Let me check your calibration," Atin said helpfully, and climbed up on the Nek's turret.

Darman was so thrown by the answer that he didn't even snap back with a smart one-liner about the trooper needing more time on the practice range. No rain on Kamino? Maybe the man's powers of observation were as bad as his aim.

Etain appeared from behind him. "Problem?"

"Yeah, that guy from the Fourteenth said it never rained on Kamino."

Etain scratched her cheek, looking preoccupied. "Is he being ironic?"

"Didn't strike me as the witty type." Darman's senses were still finely tuned to anything out of the ordinary among his brother clones, and if the 14th Infantry didn't know even the most basic Mando'a-if they came from a Kamino where it never rained-then there was something wrong.

And he was a poor shot. Darman had never seen any clone that inaccurate, not even the young kids.

"Do you think he's a spy?" Darman said thinking of the two covert ops troopers he'd killed. They were just like him, and yet they'd been sent after their own brothers. "I'm just paranoid after Gaftikar, that's all."

"If he is," Etain said "then he didn't graduate top of his class."

"It's still odd." Darman put his helmet back on and switched to a secure comm channel. Skirata needed to know about this. Small detail was the fabric of the bigger picture. "Better report it."

"Dar, there's something I need to discuss with you."

Skirata's channel was busy. Darman found his patience wasn't quite what it had been two years ago. "What, Et'ika?"

"Not here."

"Arc you really telling Zey that we should pull out of this cesspit?"

"I am, yes, but-"

"Good. This is a waste of time when we could be taking on high-value targets."

"Okay." She looked suddenly weary. "I agree." "What was it you wanted to talk about, then?"

Etain, hands on hips, stared down at her boots. "It'll keep," she said.

As soon as the militia confirmed they had the house searches under control, the small convoy headed back to Hadde Base. Darman waited for Etain to pick up where she'd left off, but he had the feeling he'd interrupted her train of thought yet again, and she'd forgotten what she had to tell him.

It couldn't have been important.

Chapter 7.

We've invented a Separatist threat that's bigger than the reality. The claim of quadrillions, quintillions, and even septillions of Separatist battle droids is so ludicrous that we'd rush to debunk it if someone didn't have a vested interest in making us believe it. Nothing adds up-literally.

Do you know how big a quadrillion is? Let's use the Galactic Standard notation-a thousand million million. A quintillion? A million quadrillions. A septillion? A billion quadrillions. Any coalition capable of producing even quadrillions of any machine could roll over the Republic in a few days. And the amount of materials and energy needed to produce and move even a quadrillion droids is immense-it would drain star systems. Either our government is composed of innumerate idiots, or it's inflating the threat way beyond the average citizen's math skills so that it can justify the war and where it's heading.

-Hirib Bassot, current affairs pundit, speaking on HNE shortly before being found dead at home from alleged abuse of contaminated glitterstim Kyrimorut, Mandalore, 995 days ABG Jusik pointed to the wall at the far end of the compound, along the length of a strip of tape stretched in a straight line across the dirt.

Fi, wearing just a pair of shorts and looking deeply uncomfortable, stood with his arms folded across his chest in his I'm-not-playing mode.