“She’s still just a kid.”
Something restrained crept into Hunter’s voice.
“Like I said.
We’re fugitives.
No home, no fixed address, always one step ahead of the Empire, or trying to be.”
His eyes drifted toward the house, something lonely settling behind them.
“Omega deserves an actual home.
A normal life.
That’s not something we can give her.”
Lance studied him, something like surprise flickering across his face.
He hadn’t expected that kind of tenderness underneath someone who carried himself this hard.
“One extra disk isn’t a problem.” He paused.
“Are you sure she’ll actually agree to go with them, though?”
Hunter let out a breath.
“It’s what’s best for her.”
Lance glanced toward the door.
“I can feel how deep that bond runs between her and your squad.
That’s not something that breaks easily.”
He looked back at Hunter.
“Are you really going to make this call for her?”
Hunter went quiet, something visibly working behind his expression.
After a moment, he answered.
“My request stands as is.
But when it comes time, I’ll let her choose for herself.”
Lance gave a small nod and let it drop.
Hunter exhaled slowly, like something had come loose in his chest.
“Thank you.”
He glanced at Lance and Grogu, curiosity surfacing.
“Don’t you need one too?
For yourself and the kid?”
Lance looked down at Grogu, whose features weren’t exactly easy to disguise.
A chain code might get him through the cracks alone, quietly, but abandoning Grogu was never on the table.
He shook his head.
“No use for one either way.”
Understanding passed across Hunter’s face.
“Guess we’ve got more in common than I thought.”
Cut and Suu drove the landspeeder toward the spaceport with R4 tucked in the back.
Shops lined the street on both sides, foot traffic moving steadily, mostly plain dressed civilians mixed with troopers carrying blaster rifles.
Transports cut across the sky overhead at regular intervals, touching down on the landing pads ahead.
Multiple checkpoints guarded the entrance, security thick around the perimeter.
Tucked into a dark alley nearby, Suu glanced down at R4, brow raised.
“How exactly are you planning to get in there?”
Beep beep!
R4 had already locked onto a squad of troopers marching toward the entrance. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
The instant the last soldier cleared the alley mouth, R4 slid out and tucked itself neatly onto the end of the formation, matching its pace to theirs, neither too fast nor too slow.
The checkpoint guards barely gave the group a second look.
Even spotting the astromech trailing behind, nobody questioned it, assuming it belonged to the squad’s mission.
R4 cleared security without a hitch and rolled into the spaceport proper.
The moment nobody was watching, it split off from the squad and found the nearest data port, an interface popping open from its chassis to jack straight into the terminal.
Within seconds it had pulled up every chain code processing station in the facility, though nothing yet on where the blank disks or encoder were actually stored.
Beep woop.
It retracted the interface and followed the map to a smaller, out of the way station.
A soldier was already working inside, so R4 tucked itself into a corner and waited.
About an hour passed before the soldier finally stepped out.
Beep beep.
A pleased little chirp, and R4 slipped inside.
Its photoreceptors swept the room fast, landing on a combination cabinet mounted above the data port.
Interface connected again.
Half a second later, the lock clicked open.
R4 fired a small thruster burst and rose level with the cabinet, extending both arms to pull out five disks and an encoder.
It sealed the cabinet shut, dropped back down, and slipped out well before the soldier returned.
Beep beep!
A triumphant little series of beeps followed as it made its way back out through the spaceport, disks and encoder tucked safely inside its chassis.
Exactly as Lance had said, nobody looked twice at an unremarkable droid.
Back at the courtyard, Omega, Jek, and Shaeeah were gathered around the stove.
Omega worked a wooden spoon through a simmering pot, Jek chopped vegetables nearby, and Shaeeah kept feeding in meat and seasoning as needed.
Before long, the smell of cooking meat filled the whole yard.
Grogu stared at the pot, drool sliding freely down his chin.
“Iya!”
Days of dry rations had worn thin, and the last of the blue biscuits had run out ages ago.
That smell hit him hard.
Lance held his own hunger in check well enough.
A year of war had taught him plenty about sleeping rough and eating worse.
A few minutes later, Omega brought over two steaming bowls.
“Jek says this is a local specialty.
Try it.”
“Thanks.”
She moved off with a smile, distributing bowls among the rest of the squad.
Lance blew across a spoonful and took a bite.
His expression lifted almost instantly.
The texture came out soft and dense, rich porridge cooked down thick, the minced meat tender and full of flavor without any greasiness dragging it down.
“This is good.”
He finished the bowl fast.
Nothing loosened a person’s guard quite like decent food.
Warmth settled into his stomach, and along with it, some of the wariness he’d been carrying eased off.
He looked up at the squad, tone casual, though the question underneath it was genuine.
“You’re already forging codes for Cut’s family.
Why not make some for yourselves while you’re at it?
Every spoon in the group stopped mid motion at once.
Silence settled over the table.
After a moment, Hunter’s gaze passed across his three teammates before he answered.
“We were built by the Kaminoans, trained as soldiers from birth.
Fighting, missions, dangerous work, that’s all we’ve ever known.”
He shook his head slowly.
“Nobody ever taught us how to just be a person.
Live an ordinary life.”
Wrecker slapped the table, voice booming.
“Working a field every day?
Might as well just shoot me now.”
Tech adjusted his glasses, calm as ever.
“Our skill set represents real value.
Reducing that to farm labor or menial work would be a waste of considerable capability.”
Nobody argued.
Privately, they all seemed to agree with him at least a little.
Attention shifted to Echo.
Hunter asked, “And you?
What’s the plan?”
Echo scratched the back of his head, a little awkward.
“Honestly, hadn’t given it much thought.”
He paused, something firmer settling into his expression.
“The Batch is the reason I’m still standing.
Wherever you go, I go.”
Wrecker clapped him on the shoulder, laughing warmly.
“We only take people with a few ‘defects’ built in anyway.
Half droid counts.
You’re one of us.”
Echo rolled his stiff shoulder a few times.
“Even out from under the Empire, Clone Force 99 still exists.”
Hunter nodded.
“Exactly.
Part of why chain codes don’t make sense for us.
Stick together, and we’ll get spotted fast regardless.”
Lance found himself agreeing without reservation.
Clone faces were all cut from the same template; blending in as a group was never going to be realistic.
He listened quietly, already forming his own read on the situation.
A squad of soldiers who lost their bearings.
Born for war.
Shaped by it.
Dependent on it in ways they probably hadn’t fully reckoned with.
Now that the war itself had ended, the structure they’d built their whole existence around had gone with it, and the Empire they’d escaped had never offered anything to replace it.
Left adrift, without much sense of what came next.
A thought took shape in Lance’s mind.
Maybe I can give them somewhere to point themselves.