Clone Wars: Underground - Chapter 18

  The Ryndellia system was a long jump to the outer rim. Loud subtronic dance music boomed though the cargo hold. Brenni knew it could only be Kisha. She was most likely working on her bike. Brenni made her way to where Kisha wrestled with her prize possession. She was re-attaching a plate to the exterior of the engine. She was about to say something about the music when someone else shifted underneath the bike. Brenni held her tongue.

“I know she didn’t think I’d remember.” Kisha was saying. 

“Did you?” It was Burnout asking. He was bolting something to the undercarriage.

“Yeah. It’s weird. I remember my father standing there looking at me. I remember feeling that he didn’t want to take me. I think my mother told him not to.”

“How old were you again?”

“I don’t know, but I remember asking my mother about him years later. She told me she didn’t know him and that she’d never seen him since she was pregnant.”

“Weird.” Burnout shimmied out from under the bike. Brenni left quietly the way she came. Kisha never spoke about her mother or her previous life on Kiros. She felt relief that the girl was finally opening up, but a small pang in her heart that it wasn’t to her.

 

“What’s wrong?” Brenni jumped at the sudden voice behind her. With the thumping bass of the music, she hadn’t heard anyone approach. She spun around to see the resident clone captain studying her face. 

“Oh Rex.” Brenni sighed deeply. “I was just checking up on Kish. She likes to play her music a little too loud sometimes.”

“and?” Rex had noticed the worried look on her face. Brenni knew when she couldn’t hide something from a seasoned clone captain. There were the kind of people who were completely oblivious to the feelings and body language of others, then there were those who studied them intently. Brenni placed Rex closer to the latter. He was a leader that made a dedicated effort to learn the facial expressions and specific movements of his men. It was a sign of a good leader. Brenni wondered how he had picked up on her so quickly or if she was just plainly readable by others. 

“It’s just that she opens up easier to others than she does me.” Brenni shook her head. Rex pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow. “I may be wrong, but she always seems to be showing off around you or defying you. Take it from someone used to working with hotheads, she may be trying to prove herself to you. The last thing she would want to do is show anything that might be a weakness.”

“Why would she need to do that?” Brenni hugged herself subconsciously and bit her lower lip, a reaction she had when thinking though something particularly frustrating. 

Rex shrugged.

“I can talk to her.” He wondered if Brenni remembered him or the 501^st from the previous times they met. She was always arriving with supplies for the locals just as the army was shipping out, but he didn’t know how many other units she worked with. He had seen her several times but had spoken only on rare occasions. He knew everyone had their part in the war, but the supply runners from Alderaan were volunteers. He had always found that admirable. When he saw her before, she always charged down her loading ramp ready to help off-loading and distributing supplies all on her own time and expense. If he could help fix this problem with her and her adopted daughter, then he would. 

“Thanks.” Brenni couldn’t help a small smile. Most officers would consider themselves above such things. Her father certainly would have. Rex wasn’t like that. He seemed to be connected to his men and that circle now seemed to include her and Kisha. It felt like a family, or at the very least, a clan of sorts. Clan Zhora. Brenni chuckled to herself, then remembered Rex was still there. She looked up to see a confused look on his face. She felt her cheeks get hot with embarrassment. “Sorry. I got lost in my own thoughts.”

Surprisingly, he smiled. It was a small upturn on one side of his mouth, as if he wasn’t used to smiling. Brenni thanked him again before walking off. 

 

 

 

The Ryndellia medical station itself was not located on any planet but a space station. That made liberating it of goods all the easier. The Imperials now controlled everything, they didn’t bother wasting their time hauling off bacta and other supplies when they could just get more from the core. 

They had utterly abandoned the facility. Rex was still cautious. There could be a small patrol left behind in case the Empire ever wanted to come back. They encountered nothing of the sort.  

            The clones busied themselves loading the Ladalum’s cargo hold with bacta tanks, surgical equipment, and first aid supplies. Kisha took the opportunity to do some exploring. If they were heisting supplies, maybe she could find something for her speeder.  

            “I noticed she likes driving.” Rex commented to Brenni.  

            “Kish, yeah. She’s actually pretty good.” 

            “Ever teach her to fly?” 

            “She’s only fourteen.” 

            “I was younger.” He replied honestly. 

            “You were trained for that.” 

            “I was.” He adopted a thoughtful look. “l’m no parent, but I do know that it helps to build bonds over shared interests. At least it works with my men.” Brenni was dumbfounded. She knew he was talking about her love of flying, but she had never thought of it as a way to connect with Kisha.  

           “Thank you, Captain.” 

            Rex chuckled. “It’s hard being in command when you’re barely older than the ones you’re in charge of.” 

            “You got that right.” Brenni smiled back. 

            “Work the hardest for the best things.”

            “True words.” 

            Brenni remembered her words to her father. The last time she saw him, she told him that the clones were more of a family to her than he was. At the time, she said it to make him mad. Now, looking at Rex, she felt in her heart the truth of what she had said. These clones were as much her family as her biological family, in many ways, more so. 

            They finished with the loading and made ready to jump.  

 “Hey, Kish. You wanna take us out?” Brenni asked. Kisha’s head popped up from the Co-pilot’s seat.  

            “Really?”

            “Well, I’m pretty sure you already know what to do anyway.” Brenni added.            “Yeah, I do. I know everything about your ship!” 

            “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Brenni stood and offered her seat to Kisha. Kisha plopped into the chair. Her brash teenage attitude disappeared at the onset of responsibility, and she took the controls. Her face was serious and confident and Brenni wondered if she looked that when during her races on Coruscant. She had never gone to watch her race. A sudden pang of regret poked her heart. She didn’t give Kisha enough credit. That was something she could change. She wasn’t going to be like her father.   

 

            Mardin returned to Coruscant. He might have lost the prisoners, but he had one more lead. He needed the scientist that Brenni had been trying to pick up from Moff Tarkin’s destroyer. His comm buzzed. 

  “Sir. Moff Tarkin.” An officer announced.

            “I’ll take it on the bridge.” 

            Tarkin already knew of his failure at Obroa-Skai. He didn’t seem too critical of it at the moment. There was no way of knowing that the clone commander would go bandit and help the traitors. 

            The holo-image of Moff Tarkin blipped to life and looked every bit as formal and intimidating in its miniature form.  

            “How are things going on Kashyyyk?”  

            “Predictably. The Wookies insurgents are being rounded up and sent to labor 

camps. More importantly, I have another mission for you.”         Mardin listened intently. The moff wasted no time. 

            “There is a certain individual that has become a problem. In addition to faulty work, it’s confirmed that he was caught slicing into sensitive Imperial information.” Tarkin paused for a moment, measuring his next words. “He is also reportedly harboring assets from the military.” 

            “You want me to run a full investigation?” 

            “Investigations are for intelligence agencies. No, Commander. I want you to eliminate the problem.” 

            “Yes, sir.” 

 “Commander.” Tarkin added. “The order for elimination comes directly from the Emperor’s office. The order to retain assets comes from me.” 

            “Understood.” Mardin knew what Tarkin meant. Anything he found in recon would be handed over to Tarkin himself and left out of the official report. 

             

Gresh sighed with displeasure as the wine was served. He didn’t like social occasions and he didn’t want to be away from his lab for any amount of time. While it seemed slightly out of character for the commanders to have dinner guests, Gresh could not refuse the invitation. Commander Mardin insisted on the meal and Gresh knew that the Commander reported directly to Moff Tarkin. There was no avoiding the request.

Gresh was relieved when the evening finally ended, and he took a sky cab back to his office. He didn’t have time to sit around socializing with mere military personnel. His own time was too valuable. His work was far too important and the military should have been sending units to aid him, not inviting him to eat. 

Soon it would be different. He would have his own troopers that he could rely on.  

The sky cab was a tad on the warm side for Gresh. He tugged at the button fastening his collar.  

Gresh knew he was an integral asset to the Emperor himself. He was so important that it was natural for the Moff to try and win his favor. Although if he wanted to, he shouldn’t have gone through his Commander lackey. People would have to learn that wasting his precious time was no way to win any kind of credit from him.  

The wine that had warmed him was now making him feel drowsy. He had only taken one glass. His head nodded once. 

Maybe the Moff didn’t want to win his favor. What if he saw Gresh as a threat? 

Moff Tarkin has been known to go to certain lengths to remove threats. 

Gresh almost fell over in the seat but jerked himself up at the last moment. He began breathing erratically and looked from side to side trying desperately to stay awake.  

“Hurry it up!” He shouted at the driver. His left eye began shuttering again. He couldn’t control it. He felt the cab about him spinning. 

Poison!

The Moff was trying to take him out! 

The cab driver screeched to a stop at one of the Imperial Lab’s speeder balconies. Gresh jumped from the cab and ran directly for his office. He stumbled into a medic droid and almost went down. The walls around him were reeling now as he staggered to his office. He shoved an arm in the medical scanner and ordered a blood test. The machine pricked his wrist. While the test ran its course, Gresh fumbled with the controls at his desk. So many colors. He didn’t label the buttons on the control panel for safety purposes. No one knew of the secret cabinets hidden in the room. Which color was it? Blue? Green? He was having a hard time focusing. Blue is true. Green unseen. The rhymes helped, but suddenly their meanings were jumbled in his mind. Green. Green was the color of life. He punched the green button and a panel on the wall slid away. The shelves behind the wall contained row upon row of bottled liquids, pills, and powders.  

The scanner beeped. Greshed tugged himself over to the readout. 

[Corellian Sleeper] 

Good. I have an antidote for that. His hands sluggishly knocked bottles aside. Some of them fell to the floor, spilling their contents. Gresh was beyond caring. He only had seconds to live. He grabbed a bottle labeled “Corellian Sleeper” and attached it to the injector and shot it into his arm. With a sigh of relief, he detached the bottle. Examining it more closely he recognized the toxic symbol stamped under the name. Realization sunk in. He hadn’t taken the antidote. He had just given himself a second dose of the poison. He took one brief look at the blue button on his control panel. Then the ceiling spun around him and he lost his balance.  

With his last breaths he activated the comm he carried.  

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