"That's Kal all right," Vau said. "All he wants is to put his boys right."
Vau tried to work out what was going through her mind, but even after years among Kaminoans, and getting to know this one better than he ever imagined he would, he reminded himself that using human motive as a basis for understanding them was probably a mistake. Apart from pride, he couldn't map human concerns onto Kaminoans. The mismatch was probably what made Mereel think they were devious.
"I'll be going then," he said. "See what Mird's dragged back from the woods."
"You will let me know when the Jedi has her child, won't you?"
"Oh, you'll probably hear it all over the bastion . .."
"She promised me a tissue sample." No, Vau didn't think that Ko Sai was offering to knit booties. When he got back to the central area, he could see Mird busy at some frantic activity in the field outside. Bralor and Jaing were watching it, transfixed. He had to go and look. Mird had built a nest. Strills did that. Not only had it built the nest for the mother-to-be, but it had also stocked the larder. A huge, dead, mangled shatual lay to one side of the beautifully arranged coils of dry grass. "It's the thought that counts," Jaing said. Bralor laughed. "That's the cutest thing I've ever seen," she said. "Cute and strill in the same sentence . . . well, you learn something new every day."
"How long do they live?" Jaing asked. "I'd heard three or four times as long as a normal human."
"It's true," said Vau. "It worries me, because I don't have a family to pass Mird's care to."
"You're a big softie, Sergeant."
"Would you consider taking Mird if anything happened to me? You never seemed quite as repelled by it as your brothers." Jaing pulled his I'm-considering-it expression and rocked his head a little. "Yes, I always had sinus trouble. Okay."
"Do I have your word?"
"Yes. You do."
Vau felt a great deal more positive than he had in years, which showed him how much he worried about the animal.
That evening he felt positively benign, joining the others in the main room to speculate on the birth.
Bralor's niece Parja-a mechanic, and making a good liv-ing for a youngster-showed up to scrutinize Fi for the first time. "Jaing says you're worth fixing up," she said, squatting down to look him in the eye. "I do believe he's right."
It would have sounded unthinkably callous to anyone but a Mandalorian, but she said it with a smile and she spent the whole evening being wonderfully attentive to him. It looked like a lot more than tact or pity. Etain, watching protectively, gave Vau a totally uncharacteristic wink from across the room. Jedi seemed to have a radar for these things. Contentment could be found in some of the least likely situations, Vau thought.
He slept well that night, with Mird draped across his feet on top of the blankets. It was only the sound of a woman in labor that woke him, and just six hours later, Venku Skirata was born, arguably the most wrinkled and angry looking of babies.
Bralor and Parja studied Venku unsentimentally.
"Kandosii," Bralor said, taking the baby in her arms. "That's a very healthy boy."
Vau reflected on the kind of future Venku might face-or make for himself-and handed Etain his comlink.
"Go on," he said. "You know what you have to do next."
Etain, tearful and exhausted, took the device and fumbled with the controls. He didn't even have to remind her. She keyed in Skirata's code right away, and when he answered, she managed just one word.
"Ba'buir," she said, and burst into tears.
Grandfather.
Kyrimorut bastion, northern Mandalore, 541 days after Geonosis All the way from Coruscant, Skirata remained convinced that he would take Venku from Etain's arms without a second thought, right until he walked into her room and saw that pitiful look on her face.
"It's okay," she said. "I'm tired and my hormones are all over the place, so if I start crying, just carry on as if nothing's happened. I haven't changed my mind or anything."
Skirata leaned over to look at Venku, then Etain held the kid up for him to take.
"There you go, Ba'buir."
"Venku's beautiful," Skirata said. "He really is." His biological kids must have had their own families by now, and maybe he had great-grandchildren out there somewhere, but this was the first grandson he could actually hold and call his own. "Venku. Yes, that's you, isn't it? Yes it is, Venku!" The baby was too young to respond to cooing and tickling. Skirata settled for just holding him like fragile crystal, one hand supporting his tiny head. At least he remembered the drill. "He's perfect, Etain. You did well. I'm so proud."
"It's nice to be able to roll over in bed again without get-ting stuck," she said tearfully.
"You really need some rest, ad'ika."
"This isn't what I thought I'd feel. Any of it."
She sounded just like Ippi. His late wife said it wasn't the way they described it in the family holozines, too. Given the massive upheavals that Etain had been through in the last year, the fact that both mother and child had survived was astonishing. There was a lot to be said for Jedi blood.
Mereel walked in and peered over Skirata's shoulder.
"He's very quiet, isn't he?"
"They sleep a lot at this stage."
"You reckon?" Etain said wearily.
Venku looked like an average baby with nothing remark-able about him except perhaps his head of fine, wispy dark hair, and that ordinariness was the most wonderful thing Skirata could imagine. It was a long time since he'd picked up a newborn and been stunned by it. And it broke his heart that Darman couldn't be doing this instead.
I was wrong. Shab, was I wrong. I can't keep the lad from his son.
"You don't have to go through with this," Skirata said. "I know what I said before, but you could raise him here if you leave the Jedi Order. Rav's around, we're all passing through regularly, you could even go to Keldabe and have plenty of neighbors around you .. ."
"But what about Dar?" she asked.
"I need to rethink this."
"I don't want to be sitting here worrying while he's fight-ing, Kal."
"Women with small kids do that, Etain. It's hard being the rear party to a man at the front, but they do it."
"It's different when I'm serving. I feel like I've got some control over the situation, even if I haven't."
"And who needs you most now?"
Skirata couldn't blame her for dithering and changing her mind. He'd had kids of his own and adopted a lot more, but even he found the world was a different place once the child was there in front of you. It changed everything.
And Etain didn't seem like the naive and well-meaning Jedi who'd enraged him so for thinking it was a good idea to give Darman a son by omitting to tell him she was taking risks. She was a small, thin kid who looked wrung out from the pregnancy, and whose only mistake was to be born with the wrong set of genes in a world that forced a destiny on her from birth. She was just like Darman. He could never blame her now.
"You haven't asked me something," she said.
"Birth weight?"
"Don't you want to know if he's strong in the Force?"
Skirata trod tactfully. He found he was determined not to think of Venku as a Jedi-in-waiting. That could never be allowed to happen. "Is he? It's not a given, is it?"
"No, it's not. But he will be a Force-user. It depends on how he's trained to handle it."
She might have been having second thoughts about his future. All she'd ever known before the war broke out was a Jedi clan for a family; stress could make folks default to what they knew best. "And who's going to train him?"
"I will. I might regret taking away his choice to be a Jedi, but I'd rather offer him the wider world."
There were times when she really looked like a Jedi, the same way Jusik did, simultaneously both child and ancient sage, swathed in those dull brown and beige robes. Skirata tried to imagine her like a normal young girl of her age, doing mindless fluffy things like worrying about fashion, and felt agonizing guilt for the harsh things he'd said to her when she told him she was pregnant.
He was glad she did it. Darman had a son. It was going to kill her to stay away from her baby, though, and to cover up the fact that she'd given birth. He'd been so sure it was right for Darman not to know about Venku until he was ready for the news. But now he wasn't so sure.
I took away his chance to name his own son. So where does that leave me?
And Venku was a blend of Force-using Jedi and the perfect soldier, a valuable commodity. Ko Sai's continued cooperation was being bought with a vial of blood and tissue. There was nothing the aiwha-bait could ever do with it, but she wanted it badly. Skirata was going to hand it to her.
"Et'ika, let's pick our moment and tell Darman," he said. "Let's see if he's up to it. I'll know."
"But I'm not sure how I'm going to face him after lying to him like that."
"I'll tell him the truth. I made you do it."
"But you were right, Kal. It's already a dangerous situation, whatever I do. There's no way around it." Etain held her hands out to take Venku again, and settled him in the crook of her arm. "Once even a few folks know what his parentage is, the trouble starts. Unless both Dar and I desert, that is, and he won't do that." She wiped the baby's mouth. "I don't think I can, either. I can't play happy families while this war's going on, not like that, anyway."
Skirata saw her point, and wondered how he'd react in the same position. "Fi knows now."
"Yes. But he's not exactly in a position to blurt it out to anyone."
"I'd better talk to him."
"I don't think he understands why I didn't tell Dar."
"Leave it to me. First things first, though-Ko Sai."
Skirata hadn't seen her in a while, and when he and Mereel walked into the mobile laboratory unit that she'd finally deigned to use, she reminded him of someone wasting away who'd managed to muster a little strength to greet a friend. But there was nothing friendly about her. She was just anxious to play with that sample.
But she must know she can 't ever make a super-soldier out of it. Imagine being so hungry for knowledge that all you want to do is find out, even if you'll never use it.
Skirata wasn't taking chances. If she escaped from Kamino, then she could try to make a run from here, even now. From the moment she took that sample out of his hands, she was locked in and under surveillance.
"I hear the baby is healthy and well," she said.
"Yeah." Skirata held up the vial. "Now you tell me how healthy."
"I don't even have to test for abnormal aging, Sergeant," she said. "Any engineered genes inherited from his father will be designed to be recessive, and those occurring naturally in the Fett genome have been chemically regulated. Apart from any exotica inherited from his Jedi mother, the baby will grow up normally unless he's been very unlucky in life's lottery."
"You make it sound so wonderful." Skirata looked at the vial. "And you've had a good rummage around Etain's genome, I take it."
"Yes. Fascinating."
"So this cocktail just tells you how they interact."
"Not just. This is the most fascinating part of all."
And Venku didn't need it. Skirata could walk away now, if he believed her. But he had to take her tests on trust, too. He was no geneticist.
Mereel nudged him, "Ko Sai kept her word before, and it's not as if it can do any harm now."
Skirata wasn't sure if Mereel was playing nice-policeman-nasty-policeman with the Kaminoan, but he handed over the sample.
"Have fun," he said, and they left. The bastion was taking shape. Bralor's droids had built a sheltered circular atrium off the main hub, with a roof that slid back on days when nobody cared what could be spotted from the air; it was ideal for open-air roasts.
"I say we get started on butchering that shatual if Rav hasn't already prepared it, Mer'ika. Perfect celebratory meal, if we had the whole clan here."
"You said clan."
"That's what it is, isn't it?"
"Indeed it is, Buir." Mereel smiled. "The war will be over one day."
"It'll be over for us," Skirata said. "And the rest of the galaxy can do what it wants. In the meantime, I need to make friends with someone reliable who's worked at Arkanian Micro."
"But not before we roast a little shatual, eh?" Mereel smiled. "I'm an uncle now. I have to do things right." Uncle. Ba'vodu.
It was a lovely family word. This was where the future all began; these days, Skirata was certain, marked the beginning of hope for his boys-for Mandalore, even.
Yes, Arkanian Micro could wait a few hours longer.
Kyrimorut bastion, northern Mandalore, 545 days after Geonosis "How do Mandalorian women transport their babies?" Etain asked. "I'm pretty sure they don't travel with this amount of kit just for a few hours' jaunt down the Hydian Way."
She couldn't actually manage the bag of diapers, milk, and changes of clothing. To think she'd once carried an LJ-50 conk rifle into battle: now she was drained to empty by simply lifting a travel bag and forced to resort to a repulsor assist.
Bralor had one last peek at Venku. "Backpack," she said. "But under the circumstances, I'd say cheating is fine. Re-member, Mando'ade don't enjoy pain and hardship-we're just better at putting up with it than the aruetiise. Be kind to yourself. This isn't an endurance contest."
"I'll be back as often as I can."
"Any time, vod'ika. You certain you want to go through with this? Back in barracks?"
"I can always change my mind."
"Well, trite as it sounds . . . we're here. I just hope Dar-man's ready for the whole thing." Bralor craned her neck to look through the narrow window slit. "They're wonderful lads, but they can't help being naive in some areas. Of course, the Nulls got the idea fast, except maybe Ordo ..."
"What are you looking for?"