Clone Wars Underground - Chapter 13

Silfon Gresh’s office was larger than the previous director’s office. Sionver Boll had been recently relieved of her position when the new Imperial order was established. Gresh filled her position with the understanding that he would fulfill a very specific role for the Empire’s new leader. He had his new office expanded by tearing down the walls to a connecting office and having the two renovated as one. He paced back and forth in that office now, deep in thought. 

“Palpatine wants a clone. A clone of himself. Enhanced. I can do that. I can.” There were others. Gresh had a sinking feeling that there might be other cloners besides the Kaminoans working for the Emperor. He already knew that deals with Kamino were not as strong as before. He knew the Emperor wanted his own cloning specialists. “He’s hiding them.” Gresh knew there had to be at least one other facility, but probably more. Centrax II was definitely a possibility. The Coruscanti moon had labs and medical facilities. If he didn’t work quickly, he would be irrelevant. He might even be in danger. The Emperor had a way of getting rid of those who didn’t provide results. Gresh knew that he had to be the first to offer the Emperor with a viable clone product. 

Gresh also knew that he needed help. He was a top scientist, but he still could not understand Doctor Tian’s notes. There was something he was missing. He stopped to admire the complex designs of the everchanging display of woven patterns moving lazily along one wall of his office. It was a holo-projection meant to calm the mind and provide inspiration. The moving patterns reminded him of DNA strands. He might not have gotten as far in his research as Dr. Tian, but she was working for him now. Anything she created belonged to him. He gazed at the moving patterns until his eyes unfocused. “I have to be number one. There can be no other experts. I have to hurry if I want to secure my position. I have to be the first to create- ” He stopped when the door beeped.  

“Enter.” His voice turned hard and controlled. The musings forgotten. 

 

 

            The hovercart was easy enough to push, Maaka wondered why the old Ho’din would give him a job that Cet could do by himself. He looked around the open-air market. They were still on the mid-lower levels of the city. His instinct drew his eyes and ears to every recess and activity in the crowded market. He quickly ran though the checks in his mind the way he would for any new situation. He knew this wasn’t the battlefield, but he was trained to assess every area, friendly, hostile, and everything in between. He could tell those citizens who carried blasters carefully concealed in the folds of their clothes. They teneded to move differently. He could hear the clicks of military boots the police wore and saw an officer off to one side. It was more difficult with so many signals, but he quickly eliminated one group of sentients after another until his mind finally accepted that there were no immediate threats.  He kept his own blaster in his boot, the standard deece pistol he had been issued and subsequently died with. He left his armor at the little apartment he now shared with the Awens. Despite his initial shock at being brought back, and his anger at the doctor who had done the deed, he was glad she gave him his armor back. She brought all his gear down there for him and the others. 

            “So, Maaka.” Cet began after selecting some blueish root vegetables. He waited for the boy to continue. When he didn’t, he looked over at him. The Twi’lek youth’s lekku twitched once and he was biting his lower lip. 

            “Yes?” Maaka asked finally.  

            “Uhhh. You think you can teach me how to fight?” The words rushed out in a jumble and the boy’s nervousness was replaced by a weak, hopeful smile. Maaka let out a short laugh. 

            “Sure. I could give ya some pointers.” Maaka hoped that Cet would never need to use true combat skills. The battlefield wasn’t a place for such a soft child. One thing Maaka had come to realize in the short time he’d spent at the café is just how much Cet idolized him. He wasn’t sure if that was any better than the civvies that felt uncomfortable about him. Cet let out a whoop and moved on to the next stall. The café bought most of its produce from open markets like the one Maaka and Cet were at, but it also served plates of exotic fruits and vegetables unique to the Ho’din home world of Moltok that Hiso Awen grew in an artificial environment behind the café. 

            “Well, before you get into a fight, the best thing is to assess the situation.” Cet listened intently, soaking in every word. Maaka couldn’t quite remember why, but he knew how to look at a situation and decipher what was going on. His commander thought it might have been some special training, but Maaka assured him that his training had been just like everyone else’s. Still, he was put on point as a scout more occasions than he remembered. He took the duty with solemn responsibility. “You could save your squad by correctly assessing the situation. The best confrontational situation is avoiding the need for one.”  

            Maaka looked down at Cet again. The boy was energetic and cheerful to a fault. His presence alone seemed to boost the perpetual bad mood Maaka had been in for weeks.  

            “Hey!” Cet called. “You’re looking at me again. I bet you’re wondering.”        “Wondering what?” Maaka asked, playing along. 

            “Wondering how I’m related to my dad.” 

            Maaka chuckled at how nonsensical it sounded out loud, but it was true. Cet was obviously full-blood Twi’lek and Hiso was definitely one hundred percent Ho’din. “You gonna tell me?” He asked. 

            “Well, my first dad left. I never met him. Then my mom met my new dad and they fell in love.” He brought both hands together symbolizing the union of his parents. “I call him my real dad and I go by his name, Awen. That’s because my mom really loved him a lot.” Cet finished with a proud smile.  

            “And your mom?”  

            Cet’s smile fell. “She got sick. Dad tried everything, so did the med fac, but-” He faded, not finishing the sentence.  

            “Sorry, kid.” Maaka patted his shoulder. 

            “It’s okay, now you’re here.” 

            “I’m not in your family.” 

            “Sure you are. You live with us. You help dad.” 

            Maaka shifted uncomfortably. What did he know of family? A glimpse of his childhood flashed across his face. His brothers, what were their names? The war. Shots rang in his brain and he clutched his head as a sudden jumble of scenes forced themselves across his mind in flashes. He felt the duracrete floor rise up and slam him in the face. For a moment everything went black.  

            “Maaka?”  

            He saw someone with his own face standing over him. It was a brother, shaking him.

            “Maaka! Get up!”  

            The clone boy faded into his mind and Cet replaced him. 

            “Maaka. Are you okay?” Cet asked frantically shaking him. Maaka groaned. Other shoppers had stopped, some were looking down at him. He was laying on the ground. Slowly he pushed himself up. He had seen them again, the nameless clone younglings. Although he remembered the past three and a half years with his unit, he didn’t remember much about growing up on Kamino or anything else. Then there were the flashes. Sometimes they were the same, sometimes he saw different things. His face hardened. He knew clones were genetically coded against stuff like PTSD. So why was he having flashbacks? This time, the last thing he saw was the face of that doctor. The woman who brought him back. Why did she show up in the sterile white surgery rooms of Kamino? He got to his feet and felt something brushing against him. He realized Cet was busily dusting him off. His anger faded. 

 “Thanks kid.” He managed. He ducked his head, hoping the onlookers would be on their way. 

 

            Ellia shut down her terminal.  She missed Ardie but was glad some part of her was out helping Brenni and the others. Since coming to work at the Imperial Facility she’d lost interest in staying late. When she worked for the Jedi, she’d felt a certain pride in her research. She had been excited and driven. Now, she thought only of how to sabotage her own work and avoid the Director’s suspicion. Her daily reports were altered. The easiest way to change things was a slip in the amount of a chemical composition. Any clone created with such a composition would be off balance. She felt a little guilty for any clone made with such a defect, but she couldn’t help it. She also reported a different chemical composition for the bacta makeup she used when re-constructing cell tissue. There would be multiple issues in case one problem was discovered. She couldn’t stop Gresh from making clones for the Emperor. The clones themselves would suffer, but the Emperor could not be allowed her research for evil purposes. She made for the turbolift and exited the building.  

It was evening in Republic City, no, Imperial City, and people began shuffling out of offices and labs across the district. Evening entertainment venues lit up and the tone of the city changed from business to nighttime leisure. The modulated weather was programmed for warm and clear as it always seemed to be. The weather department rarely let it rain. It was something Ellia missed. She could use a good rainstorm to distract her.  

As she took a step forward, something yanked her back into a dark alleyway. She tried to scream but there was a firm hand over her mouth. She pushed towards her attacker then with all her strength ducked and slid from his grasp, almost. Another hand shot out and pinned her evenly against the ally wall. She tried to kick the way she’d been taught, but the attacker shifted his weight, and she couldn’t move her leg. 

“Hey.” She recognized the voice right away and it could have been a thousand different men. She struggled. 

“Calm down.”          

“Who are you?” Ellia pleaded. 

            “You brought me back, remember?” 

            “Maaka?”

He released her.  “You did something else to me. I saw you. On Kamino in the lab. I need to know.” He growled.

            She didn’t need to be a Jedi to tell he was angry, she could hear the iciness in his voice. 

“You remember me, don’t you?” He asked again. Ellia took a deep breath as Maaka backed up. 

“Yeah. I remember.” Her words were shaky. She remembered his anger and the biting accusations he rightly leveled at her. She looked around nervously. Maaka sighed. He hadn’t meant to scare her. He probably could have handled things better than dragging her into a dark alley. 

“Can I get you a meal?” He asked. His voice was sober and not unkind. She was wary but clone troopers didn’t really excel at deception. If he was planning on hurting her, he would have already done so. Slowly she nodded. 

“Alright.” Maybe it would be a chance to set things straight with him. She followed Maaka in silence. It wasn’t like they were friends going out to eat. He walked in front and she followed. She noticed how he always seemed to be alert. Nothing escaped his attention and he easily predicted the movements of beings around him, guiding them both effortlessly through the crowd.  They descended a couple of levels to where the neon lights became the only source of light. The walkways here were narrower and there were fewer openings to the danker levels below. Finally, they stopped at an unassuming sign that read: The Leafdew Café. Maaka opened the door and ushered her in. Ellia was utterly confused at his behavior. The last time she’d seen him, he looked like he wanted to kill her. Now, he was almost being thoughtful. 

They sat down and ordered. She wondered how he was paying for the meal. Clone troopers never received any compensation.  

“I need your help.” Maaka started after a moment. “I keep having these dreams. I think they’re related to me, but I really don’t know. I can’t remember most parts of my life.” 

“Why me?” Ellia asked. She was a geneticist, not a psychiatrist.  

“I saw you. I saw you during one of those dreams.” 

“Me?”

He was staring intently across the table at her. Ellia shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid his eyes.  

“I saw you on Kamino.”  

Ellia studied him now and something flickered in the back of her mind.  

“You can’t remember your missions or your training?” 

“I can remember how to do things, but I don’t remember being trained. It’s like I was-” His frown deepened. “programmed.” Maaka bit the word out with disgust. 

The words of Ko Sai came back to Ellia during the experimental memory-wipe surgery. All memories of people and events would be erased. Only general knowledge would remain. She felt the air catch in her lungs. The clone trooper who had looked frantically at her before the mind-wipe procedure. Had it been Maaka? He said he remembered seeing her. He had seen more terror in six months of the war that most in their entire lives. She wondered what had happened to him. It must have something to do with all the files that were locked on his record. They had not only taken away the bad memories, but his whole childhood, everything. 

“I only watched one procedure.” She said quietly. 

“You saw me then.” 

“I didn’t know it was you.”  

“Sure, we all look the same.” Maaka snorted.  

Ellia clamped her mouth into a tight line. That wasn’t fair. She had just been invited to watch from a distance. 

“I was there. I was undercover for the Jedi, learning about the cloning processes of the Kaminoans.” 

“What did they do to me?” 

“They didn’t tell you?” 

“I don’t remember!” His voice got louder. 

“Sorry.” She felt terrible for what he had gone through; for what he was still going through. She took a breath to calm herself before continuing. “You were brought in because the scientists on Kamino were testing a new procedure that could take away memories of the battlefield.”  

“Except it erased everything, didn’t it?” Maaka finished. “When I woke up, the medic told me I was injured and in recovery. She told me I had amnesia.” 

“That was a lie. I’m sorry, Maaka.” Her expression was pained. She knew it might not make a difference. She was there when his mind was wiped without his understanding, and she’d been the one to bring him back from death when he’d just wanted a release from life. No wonder he didn’t like her. She watched him for a long moment. “I don’t know much about that procedure. It wasn’t something they shared with me other than one observation, but I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” 

His expression softened finally. “I want to remember.” 

A Twi’lek boy brought their food. He had a big grin plastered on his face and he winked at Maaka before hurrying off. Ellia stifled a small laugh.  

“That’s Cet. I’ve been living and working for the owner of the Café here.” Maaka explained.  

“Oh, he seems to like you.”  

“Yeah.” For an instant, Ellia saw a small smile on Maaka’s face. It was much more handsome than the semi-permanent angry scowl she remembered him by. 

After the meal, Ellia and Maaka decided on when they could work on his memory loss. Ellia knew the memories were still there, it was the pathways in his brain to the memories that had been destroyed. In theory Ellia knew the pathways could be remade, but it would take a while. 

“I better walk you home.” Maaka stated. 

“It’s okay, I know the way.”

“Well, with the way you tried to fend me off earlier, I don’t think you’ll make it.” Ellia blinked in disbelief. Was he actually joking? He had an uncharacteristic half-grin on his face. It made her laugh. Maybe she was completely wrong about him. 

“Alright then.” She agreed. “I guess the training didn’t do me much good.” 

Maaka shrugged. “It takes more than just a few weeks.” He ushered her out into the dark night.   

<< Chapter 12                               Chapter 14 >>