“Ahsoka mentioned that none of you were conscripted. I would assume that could have been said for most of the fallen at Trunion?” Rex asked in a soothing voice, making certain that his eyes were fully engaged with the two troopers before him, his hands resting on his kneecaps as he remained seated upon a grouping of rocks.
Conda was the first to utter a sound, a sort of deranged giggle escaped his lips before he could suppress the instinct. “The same could be said for the majority of the Imperial Army Sir.” Bren’s cordial nod agreed with the assessment. Astride Rex, Kallus remained unmoving, his hands folded into the arms of the brown robes he adorned, his face unchanged since the troopers had arrived. “Look, you’ll get the same answer from everyone I know. How about you B?” Conda said giving the female trooper a gentle nudge with his elbow.
“Same for me Sir’s, I’ve never met a scrip myself.” She paused with her head tilted to the side. “You’re a clone aren’t you?” She asked in a light tone.
Inwardly, Rex wanted to roll his eyes, knowing full well where this conversation would go if they didn’t come to the point quickly.
“It is irrelevant, there are many here from all walks of life trooper.” Kallus spoke up while shaking his head free of the hood, his accent rife with outer rim infusion. Long blond hair spilled forth, framing his sharp features and neatly groomed beard. “The three of you have a choice.” He continued, eyeing them all in turn. He waited briefly to see if there was any recognition within their gazes. Neither Conda nor Bren recognized him and the third, ‘Tovic,’ he reminded himself, was seated on the rocks a few meters from them, facing the canyon wall opposite them, rocking back and forth with increasing recklessness. Rex noted the man’s odd behavior and stood up. Placing a hand on Kallus’ shoulder, he nodded toward Tovic, the two understanding each other without a word spoken. Rex walked slowly toward the increasingly frantic man, stooping to his knees as he reached him and placing an arm around his shoulders, an effort to settle his actions down before he hurt himself, “It’ll be alright trooper.”
Tovic slowed but couldn’t bring his body to a complete rest. Rex looked him over, noting the shredded black body suit at the man’s abdomen, the few bits of tarnished armor that clung to his left ankle and knee. It was the man’s face that troubled him most. Finger length hair had been torn out to the scalp in broad patches, long lesions left in its place and the little hair that remained fell disheveled in chaotic patterns with no discernible trace of its original color with the streaks of dried blood taking prominence. The man’s eyes looking hauntingly straight through Rex when he tried to get Tovic to concentrate his focus, a milky white residue congealing across the retina’s created a purplish hue to what would have normally been bright blue. The look in them seemed lost to Rex, as if they were decades older than their owner, or had just seen too much.
Tovic stopped rocking abruptly, “I killed my brother. I murdered him.” He said in a hoarse whisper.
Rex adopted a sympathetic expression, “Brother, we’ve all lost family here. I understand your grief, but you can’t blame yourself.” He said with calming influence.
Tovic’s face contorted with both regret and anger. “You don’t understand. I was just following orders.” The coarse whisper bled through the cool air again. “He was my brother. I looked him in the eyes right before I pulled the trigger.”
Rex was certain the familial connotation was a reference to a brother in arms but the unforgettable glare in his eyes betrayed something deeper. “Not even the Empire would assign kin to the same outfit trooper.”
“Captain.” The voice was Bren’s, “The Empire didn’t even know.” She concluded with a sigh.
“There is always contingency built into chain coding for exactly that purpose.” Kallus spoke up.
“We were stolen from our homes, huddled together in massive drop ships, and dumped at the doorstep of training facilities. Coding wasn’t even processed until we were through our first day.” Conda interluded with a deceptively calm voice, taking a seat beside Bren.
Kallus began shaking his head, “Deplorable.” He said a little louder than he would have liked, “They would have no way to segregate genetics.”
Bren laughed, “And why would they care to.” She said in an almost frantic cackle.
Rex looked deep into Tovic’s gaze, “Desperation.” He murmured, answering her rhetoric.
“Not desperate, strategic.” Kallus countered after a few long seconds, “A show of force or superiority. However, a doomed tactic, nonetheless. Or one to suppose a certain influence upon those taken.”
Rex understood that Kallus was trying to verbalize his active thoughts, conjoining his knowledge of Imperial protocols in the past with his Bureau training. “Whatever the case, it’s effects are sinister.” He said watching Tovic before him. For a moment, the foggy glaze over the man’s eyes faded and he shot a glance down toward the blaster at Rex’s hip.
“Don’t even think about it son.” Rex said only loud enough for Tovic’s ears. “None of us here want to hurt you, so don’t give anyone reason.”
In defiance of the warning, Tovic’s hand shot out for the blaster. Rex easily dodged the attempt, deflecting the incoming arm with his own and slipping in behind the trooper, placing a knee at the small of his back. Tovic took exception and began flailing his hands about him, trying to find purchase on Rex’s forearms, his breathing and temperament taking an alarming turn. Rex countered by slipping his right arm around the man’s neck and pulling back on his forehead. Kallus placed himself between the foray and the other troopers, but neither were willing to get involved, a relief seeming to wash over both of their expressions.
Rex held the position for fifteen seconds, waiting for the man’s arms to fall limply at his sides before releasing his arterial hold on his neck. “Just a blood choke, he’ll be fine.”
“He is anything but fine.” Conda spoke up. “He’s lost his damn mind.”
Rex couldn’t agree more given the immediate circumstance as he gently laid Tovic’s head on the ground and placed his arms across his chest. “He has at that trooper.”
“I understand why we are here, and I’ll make things easy for you by saying that I’ve been wanting to find a way to run since day one.” Bren spoke up with a sudden shift in direction. “Although I am hesitant to take up your cause, you’ve been nothing but gracious and kind to all three of us.” She continued with a slight reversion to her native accent.
Conda dropped himself to the ground at her side. “I couldn’t have said that any better myself.” Joining her in removing the remainder of their armor, tossing the various pieces as far as they could physically throw them.
Rex and Kallus both watched with a slight hint of pride in their gazes, both understanding exactly what the two troopers were going through. The sound began as a whisper in the air as it reverberated from rock to rock, the sound of united voices crying out as one. Dust and scree from the rocks above trickled down as the sounds became louder, echoing off the canyon walls. Small rocks pinged off the pieces of armor as they lay motionless a few meters distant, all the while the united song becoming louder and louder. Distinct voices overlapping one another in a single rallying call, “OYA, OYA” repeating with deeper resonance than voices should naturally carry. Rex moved toward Tovic, reaching down to grab the arms of the unconscious trooper, and slinging him over his shoulder, the other three following as he made his way toward the center of the canyon. The echoes grew in their unnatural resonance bringing larger stones down from the walls above, one rolling with tragic consequence as it thundered down and slammed the pile of armor in crunching devastation. All four of them feeling the same instinctive urge to add their own voices to the fray.
Bren tapped Kallus’s shoulder, “You have an army here?” She almost shouted to be heard.
He laughed. A genuine laugh from the deepest recesses of his chest. “That. That is but thirty trooper.” He smiled and began leading them out of the canyon, away from the source of the chanting.
Exiting the canyon, an endless view of lush prairie cascading over rolling hills assailed them. Rex panting from the added weight, slowly dropped Tovic from his shoulders and laid him on the ground amid small but lush blades of deep green grasses. “I thought she said this place was barren.” He commented.
“She said it used to be.” Kallus responded. “I am sure even she was surprised at the changes.”
The fading echoes of the chanting extinguished as they spread into the vast grasslands leaving in their wake a more natural cadence of humming insects and aggressive bird calls. A warm breeze began exsanguinating the chill from their bones, a stark contrast to the frigid canyon walls behind them.
“Where are we?” Bren asked, scanning in all directions, her dark eyes ever vigilant.
Conda elicited a melancholy harumph, “Somewhere the Empire has already been.”
Both Rex and Kallus turned to face him, questioning looks adorning each of their faces.
“Ecologic Botany was of interest on Toprawa. This is Tallic grass.” He said, answering the questioning looks, “it is a side effect of the genetically modified grains the Empire uses for troop rations. Note the deep green pigmentation and the fact that it’s growing in rock hard soil.” He continued, stomping his bare foot down for emphasis. “It’s nature’s way of reclaiming its own.”
A high-pitched whine began making its presence known, an audio assault disturbing the natural silence from behind them. The sound aggravated by the echoing effect the rocky canyon walls imparted, the unmistakable acceleration of the speeder bike seemed only seconds away. A thundering bass accented the whine as Miara’s shuttle crested the craggy plateau above them, massive repulsors bending the grasses to their breaking point as it circled slowly before descending into the chaotic vegetation fifty meters distant. Moments later the same shuttle that had delivered them to the canyon appeared, shockingly silent in comparison to the massive shuttle that was coming to rest on its pads with violent quakes of hissing exhaust extoling from its heat vents Bren observed. The smaller shuttle landed astride the larger as the high-pitched whine finally shot out of the canyon, two helmeted Mandalorians astride the 74-Z came to an abrupt stop at the foot of an opening cargo spillway on the larger shuttle. And finally, a Mandalorian Fang sped over the congregation but continued its trajectory before inclining and shooting itself out of eyesight.
“This way.” Kallus instructed, leading them toward the large shuttle, Tovic coming back around to consciousness in time for Rex to adorn him with assistive support. As they came closer, both Conda and Bren noticed two anti grav litres being offloaded through the spillway slowly, rank and file troops marching behind in solemn silence. Kallus brought them short of the activity, falling in line with the petite Mandalorians and joined by the same Togruta that had talked to them earlier. Bren in particular noted the sincerity with which the assemblage where paying their respects to the dead, she knew the deceased wouldn’t get the same treatment had they remained in Imperial hands, knowing they’d be evac’d through an air lock en masse, tossed unceremoniously into a pyre or left to mingle with detritus and garbage only to be incinerated later. She could only respond by shaking her head, a welling tear daring to race its way down her cheek. She looked to Conda, who returned the gaze, his own eyes full of moisture. They both turned back to see the litres come to a full stop and each trooper following swing around to retrieve a collapsible shovel from their packs. A uniformed officer was the first to put spade to ground, Bren watching as the woman kicked the tool into the hard ground with enormous effort. Instinct took hold of her as she moved toward the uniformed woman, dropping to her knees a half meter from her. Staring at the ground Bren reached toward the woman with her hand open, her eyes focused on the hard packed soil and clay. She felt the cool steel of the handle in her palm, grasped it with her other hand and began to drive the spade into the ground. She felt each stab of protest in her muscles and bones as the point of the tool either glanced off stones or only chipped away small sections of the dense clay. Neither caring nor concerned over the futility of her actions, it provided her a chance to, at the very least, do something worth doing. Bren glanced up to see that the uniformed woman had gone to retrieve another spade, then spun her gaze around in a wide arch to see that everyone else, including Conda, had taken tool to ground, even Tovic. The toil was arduous and painful, but each fallen Imperial would be granted the respect of individual resting places, something she knew they would never get had these Rebels not taken the initiative. ‘Rebels,’ she thought as she scraped away at the final corner of the grave she was digging. The term felt derogatory since Trunion as she rolled it in and out of thought. She turned her gaze momentarily toward the uniformed woman, a Captain no less, and could only watch as the woman’s muscles shook from the exhaustive efforts yet how there was no hesitation within her to work side by side with a captive Imperial. Bren glanced around again as everyone was working toward the same end. Mirialan, Human, Togruta, Sullustan, Nikto….the list would have no end she knew. Even a clone from a republic fallen worked the ground next to her mind rattled associate, watching as the balding man held Tovic steady or preferred a canteen to the captive trooper’s lips.
“You’re not a prisoner you know.” The Captain snapped Bren out of her thoughts. She wanted to belt out the first thought that crossed her mind after her survey had levied its own serious considerations, ‘I know,’ but instead nothing was forthcoming. She hadn’t even realized the impact of what was taking place all around her was having on her emotions, and was firmly relishing the freedom she felt to actively express them. Bren was afraid to open her mouth at all lest she resort to a helpless mess at the feet of a Rebel Captain, or anyone for that matter. She focused on the Captain again, noting the woman’s dark complexion and how freely she wore her hair about her head. She pulled back her left sleeve and looked at her own skin. Although moderately darker than the Captains, they were the same. “Where are you from?” Bren found herself asking.
“Miara. And I’m from here.” The Captain responded. “Not originally mind you, but it’s the first home I remember.” Her voice was passionate and kind, Bren thought, another stark difference she didn’t need to remind herself of. They worked for a few moments in silence, removing stubborn rocks or kicking at small piles of loose dirt, both wordlessly expressing their own interest in allowing the activity to consume them. “Bren Taldeth. Halrun Kal. Lived with my father and little sister on the outskirts of Pelec Baw.” Bren said, her accent returning while mentioning her home. “I can braid it for you.” She said after a few seconds.
“What?”
“Your hair...Miara, err Captain. I can braid it for you. It has clearly been done before and would stay out of your face.” Bren continued awkwardly, her accent returning in full force. “I had to do it for my sister all the time, she could never figure it out...not well enough anyway.”
Miara was speechless for a long moment, thoughts of shame swimming through Bren’s mind wondering if she had stepped too far. Miara noted the abashed expression crossing the woman’s dark face, “Sorry, Bren, it’s just been a while. My sister still braids it whenever we see each other.” Miara apologized for losing herself within her own thoughts, “It’s just that I haven’t seen her in a while.” She paused to keep herself ahead of her own emotions.
“How long?” Bren asked.
Miara hesitated as she wasn’t sure, “about four months now.” She guessed, “How about you? When’s the last time you saw your sister?”
Bren cast her gaze toward the ground at her feet trying in vain to focus on a small stone that had yet to yield to her spade, “She was killed three years ago.”
Miara drew in a breath through her teeth, feeling her own shame over a question that should have felt natural to ask.
“My Pa too. Tribal skirmish with the High Vale clans I was told.” Bren paused in reflection for a moment, “I tell myself that’s what happened only because the truth is too obvious.”
“Empire?” Miara asked, already knowing the answer.
“What else.” Bren said with a deep exhale.
“Then why serve?”
Bren looked Miara dead in the eye, feeling her emotions on the precipice of betraying her again, “Because there was nothing left Miara.” She pulled herself out of the grave they had finished digging some time ago and stretched a hand down to assist the Captain, “Before I knew there was another option.” Her emotions began to run untamed down her cheeks as she cracked a slight smile across her face, Miara accepting the assistance and came to stand next to the trooper as they both surveyed their handiwork.
“DON’T…” They both turned hurriedly as they heard the scream some distance away, trying in vain to identify its source. The scene before them was a scramble of bodies, all converging on the location that had been occupied by Rex and Tovic. A sickening crunch was closely followed by a gurgling surge of liquified air snapping both Miara and Bren out of their stasis. Rushing over they saw everyone swiveling to the next with hands over mouths or hands clasped over their heads. Miara pushed a path through the congregation, Bren right behind her, to stop short of tripping over Rex who was kneeling over the crumpled form of Tovic. Bren dropped to her knees at Tovic’s feet and looked up toward his face, greeted only with a garish wound between his chin and neck that had already ceased gushing its lifeblood.
“I only turned my head for a second.” Rex said, still tightly grasping Tovic’s hand with his own. Her heart laden, Bren watched as the aged clone gripped the hand one last time and closed Tovic’s eyes with his free hand. Rex closed his own eyes and blew out a ragged breath. She felt for the clone. He had been the only one to express sincere concern over the troubled man. Without thinking she pulled herself over to Rex and placed a hand on his shoulder, “There isn’t anything anyone could have done. This was inevitable. If not now, it would have been soon.” She tried to console him.
“Not like this trooper. I’ve seen it too many times and I should have known better than to give him that spade.” Rex responded.
“No, you cannot blame yourself. He was lost to his own mind the day he took a dagger to his own flesh and carved out his name. The Empire caused this, not you.” Bren spoke freely, her native accent blossoming fully with every syllable.
Kowani stood at Ahsoka’s side as they looked on, both helpless to affect the situation in any way. “Can we keep her?” Kowani asked in a light whisper, leaning closer to Ahsoka.
“That is entirely up to her...and Miara.” Ahsoka said in a returning whisper, Miara turning to face her as if on cue, giving her head a slight nod in the affirmative. “Entirely up to her then.” Ahsoka amended the statement.
“It seems that despite the atrocities we strive to overcome, some good always results from bad situations.” Kowani spoke a little too loudly as several of Naykie’s infiltrators turned to skewer the comment with their icy stares. She offered wordless apologies to all as she felt the heat of embarrassment flood her face.
“Very wise words.” Ahsoka whispered back to the Mirialan, “next time work on your delivery though.” She finished, clapping Kowani’s back with an open palm.
Kowani continued to watch as both Bren and Rex lowered Tovic’s body into the grave both the men had dug together, paying particular attention to Rex’s body language and how fluid his motions were. She understood then that this was far from the first time he had buried a fellow soldier. The stocky man kept his emotions in tow, but she saw as the Force fed the man with a constant steady stream. She wondered if he felt any connection to those peaceful flows, by way of his ever-present calm demeanor and resolve she reasoned, but her inquiry had more to do with his spirit. Could he tell those flows were there? If so, was his response on an emotional level only? She would have to ask him.
Naykie had directed the internment as each deceased Imperial was given proper rest in their own respective graves. The effort was tremendous and took hours, but each was now properly covered. There was no ornamentation, kind words or heartfelt speeches, only the cold silence of duty and sacrifice. Naykie hadn’t known which of the dead had instigated the carnage aboard the ‘Tangible’ and didn’t proceed with trying to find out. What mattered was now taken care of and the souls of the dead could find whatever peace or rest their respective hosts had believed in. He had instructed his men to return the litres, the tools and themselves to the shuttle and was standing at his Captain’s side overlooking the dead.
“The casualties mount Evan. In the end it won’t matter what side anyone is on. Only the silence of what was.” She said quietly as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Mam, it is truly an honor to serve at your side.” Naykie responded. Catching her momentarily off guard she turned to face him, although not sure she had any words to convey to him.
“What you’ve done today Captain…”
“Miara.” She stated, cutting him off.
“What you’ve done today, Miara, means a lot to everyone. You show compassion to your enemy, carry yourself with the same respect and honor you show all of us. It is an honor, Capt...Miara. Truly.” He said with all sincerity.
“The honor is mine as well Sebastian, you display those same qualities in everything you do...and you’ve saved my ass on more than one occasion.” She returned with a smile creasing her full lips.
He turned to look at her fully, gave her a return smile and stood motionless for a moment, his mouth bobbing for words he wanted desperately to say, yet never would.
“It is my duty mam.” He said with his usual business first approach. “Orders mam?” He asked as his frame turned rigid, standing at attention.
She wasn’t particularly sure what he had warred with himself over saying but she was certain his comment was not it. “Return to the shuttle and prepare for departure. We will rendezvous with the ‘Pervader’ presently. I will be with you shortly.”
“Very good mam.” He responded with a dutiful salute and turned his muscular frame about. She watched him until he was well within the confines of the shuttle. Footsteps approaching behind her caused her to flush with her own embarrassment. Turning she saw Ahsoka attempting to hide a smile.
“What?” Miara said.
Ahsoka elicited a soft giggle, “Oh nothing…” She let her words trail off as she clasped Miara’s shoulder and spun her toward the visage of the settlement where they had met so many years ago, a mere spec on the horizon. “I wonder if that lock still works.” She said, clasping Miara’s shoulder tight a few times before patting her on the back and walking away.
Miara stood alone, staring out in the distance toward the village she had grown up in. A village with no name because it didn’t need one. She was certain her old home was still there, occupied by someone very desperately wanting not to be found. She had yet to understand why Alderaan had felt more like her home as she glanced down toward the graves at her feet, knowing full well the graves of her own parents weren’t more than a few kilometers distant. She didn’t want to think about this moon any more though and could only watch as tiny lights sprang to life amidst the approaching dark of Raada’s night.