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Wolffe could hear the snap of the airlock as it secured into place, followed by the hiss of air pressuring the chamber and allowing movement into the space station. It was safe to go in, but Wolffe didn't move.
Eight months. It had been eight months since he'd last seen his General. He'd scoured eleven different systems where Plo Koon could possibly be hiding, but so far there was nothing. Wolffe was running out of places to look. He couldn't face the idea that he wouldn't find his General, but if Plo wasn't here, Wolffe wasn't sure what he would do next.
A quiet beep broke through to him. He turned his head to see R7-D4 had rolled up beside him. Plo Koon's droid trilled questioningly. He'd been with Wolffe for every step of their long hunt, and he was clearly ready to start looking for his master.
Forcing himself to get up, Wolffe muttered, "Yeah, let's go." He rolled his neck, feeling stiff from the long flight.
Wrapping a worn traveler's cloak around his shoulders, he pulled the hood down low. His face was too recognizable. A million men wore it, and most of them were working for the Empire now.
Wolffe tried not to think about that. He had to find his General. That was all that mattered.
Following R7 through the airlock and down the short tube that connected his small shuttle with the space station, Wolffe tried to shake away the exhaustion dogging him. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep since he'd lost his General, but he would need his wits about him to spot the Jedi.
The space station was every bit as crowded as he'd been led to believe. As soon as they opened the door to the tube, Clone and droid were bombarded with sounds and smells and colors. The docking arm of the ship opened directly into a busy market with stalls, shops, and carts filled with practically anything a traveler could want.
Wandering further into the space station, Wolffe and R7 kept a slow pace, not wanting to draw notice to themselves as they scanned the area around them, paying close attention to any Kel Dors that passed by.
There was no immediate sign of the General, but then there wouldn't be. Wherever he was, he would have to keep a low profile. It made the job of finding him that much harder.
A flash of white out of the corner of his eye made Wolffe jump. He turned to see a merchant unfurling a large white canvas over his cart. Wolffe took in a shaky breath, forcing his heart back to normal speed.
There were no Stormtroopers here, he reminded himself. Not yet anyway. That was one of the reasons Wolffe thought Plo was here.
The thought of Stormtroopers brought back the memory of the last time he'd seen his General. Stormtroopers had begun sniffing around their last hideout, and the General had decided their best bet of escaping undetected was splitting up. Wolffe had hated the idea but he couldn't argue the logic. They could win a straight fight with a small garrison, but that would attract the Empire's attention, something a lone Jedi like Plo could not afford.
Reluctantly, Wolffe had agreed, a decision he regretted immensely now.
At least he had R7. Plo had given the droid to him since Wolffe wasn't a navigator. At the time, Wolffe had thought it a sign that Plo definitely intended they should meet up again. Now, he wasn't quite so sure. Plo was more mobile on his own, able to react quicker to danger if he didn't have a droid and Clone to worry about. He might think he would do better without them.
Wolffe couldn't ignore there was another reason Plo might not want him around anymore. Another very good reason.
Glancing in the shiny surface of a shop window, he saw the grim set of his face. This was the face the Jedi had trusted. This was the face they had looked at when one by one they had been cut down. Wolffe wouldn't blame his General if he didn't want to see this face again.
But Wolffe was pretty sure that Plo would tell him straight if that was how he felt. Plo wasn't one for deception. Even if his General had a change of heart, Wolffe still had to know that was what it was. Because, otherwise, Plo might be hurt or trapped. Wolffe couldn't rest until he knew for sure that his General was okay.
R7 beeped, warning Wolffe just in time so he didn't get run over by a rushing deliveryman. Wolffe scowled, mostly at himself. If he wasn't so tired, there wouldn't have been a chance for collision. Wolffe needed to pay better attention.
Mindful now, he swept his gaze around and continued forward.
For two hours, he and R7 wandered the space station. They had moved outside the market and down to the lower levels. The atmosphere became rougher and grungier here. Bounty hunters, thugs, and criminals were everywhere. With his cybernetic eye and dour expression, Wolffe fit right in.
Quickly learning where the nearest bar was located—the nearest potential source of information—Wolffe was just looking for somewhere for R7 to stay when he heard the unmistakable sound of a wolf howl.
Startled, he looked around. No one else seemed to find the noise unusual, and for a moment Wolffe thought he had imagined it. "What . . .?"
"It's the new announcement siren," a man leaning against a shop said. "They've been using it for the last eight months."
Eight months?
Just as the man said, the wolf howl was followed by a public address announcing an upcoming race that was starting in ten minutes.
Heart hammering in his chest, Wolffe forgot about the cantina and hurried to a nearby alleyway. He turned to R7. "Can you find the source of that howl?"
R7 beeped in the affirmative and rolled to a nearby port. He quickly gained access, and Wolffe waited anxiously for some word from the droid. R7 trilled, happy with himself when he found what he was looking for.
Expecting a holographic map, Wolffe was surprised when R7 showed a series of numbers and letters instead. Wolffe frowned at the readout. "I don't understand."
Beeping, R7 explained the wolf-howl program was integrated into the whole system. There wasn't one specific place to look.
Wolffe could see the logic of that. If there was one input, it would have been stopped before now. This way, it was too difficult for the authorities to get rid of without rebooting their entire system, something they wouldn't want to do as it would disrupt life on the station.
But the program was definitely foreign to the operating system, which meant someone had put it there. Was Wolffe delusional to think it might be Plo Koon?
Frowning, Wolffe analyzed the program more closely. He wasn't a computer-wiz but he knew enough basic coding that he could recognize how clumsy the program was; it was filled with superfluous code. If this was Plo, what was the point? Surely, he would be better at coding than that.
A recurring string of numbers grabbed Wolffe's attention, and he suddenly understood. It was a secret message. Wolffe liked puzzles, and Plo knew that. He knew Wolffe had spent time researching communication and cryptography.
Looking at it more closely, Wolffe went through a dozen possible ciphers before it hit him.
"It's Level B32," he said as he worked through the code. R7 gave an understanding chirp and disconnected from the port.
Together, they made their way further into the lower levels of the space station. Wolffe forced himself to slow down. While he was dying to see his General, the idea that he could actually be close to finding the Jedi reminded him of the risks at play here. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself.
He had to steel himself for the likelihood it wasn't Plo too.
Level B32 was as dense as all the other levels, and Wolffe wasn't sure where to look first. There was nothing obvious to draw his attention, but he trusted that somewhere there would be some sign of his General.
Wandering away from the public areas and towards the tightly packed single-occupancy dwellings, Wolffe looked for any sign that would mean something to a lone Clone in search of a Jedi deep under cover.
When he found it, the sign couldn't have been clearer. Above a door was painted a small symbol—a perfect recreation of Wolffe's helmet design.
Swallowing, Wolffe approached the door. He tried the door-chime but found that it didn't work. Wolffe's hand hovered over the keypad. Taking a guess, he pressed 3-6-3-6 into it. His heart skipped a beat when the door opened automatically. It was his birth number—another sign that this was a path for him alone.
Wolffe and R7 entered into the room, letting the door close behind them. At first, there was nothing readily apparent. It was a small space, Spartan the way Jedi preferred. A door at the back of the little room drew Wolffe's attention. He was sure that whoever lived here must be aware of his presence now, assuming anyone was home.
Indeed, it was only a handful of seconds before he heard movement and the door opened. Wolffe had been hoping to find Plo, but he was still unprepared to finally see his General again.
"Ah, Commander Wolffe, you've finally arrived." Plo sounded genuine in his quiet delight. "I knew you would find me eventually."
Wolffe could only stand there, frozen.
R7 had no such issue, zooming forward as he beeped happily. There was an audible smile in Plo's voice as he put a hand on the droid's domed head and said, "I'm glad to see you too, my friend. I see you've brought my Commander back to me in one piece just as I requested."
R7 responded with a series of excited and self-important whistles as he rushed to detail the last eight months. Plo appeared content to let him speak at length.
It was too much for Wolffe. He was so tired and he'd come so close to giving in to despair, but here Plo was just as he'd been when they last saw each other.
Wolffe must have made a noise because Plo turned his attention back to him, and something just snapped in Wolffe. Without meaning to, he was rushing towards Plo, leaping at him, arms wrapping around the man and holding on as tight as he could.
The force of it was enough to stagger Plo back, but only a step. He bent with Wolffe's momentum, taking it into himself. He wrapped his arms around Wolffe, possibly for stability, but he kept holding on even after the initial surge had passed.
R7 was kind enough to roll back a few feet to give them room.
Wolffe was at war with himself. The proper Clone Officer was appalled at this behavior. The desperate fugitive afraid he would never see his Jedi again couldn't hold on tight enough.
Plo said nothing, not for a long while, perhaps sensing that Wolffe needed this moment. He pressed his head against Wolffe's and remained a sturdy, steady presence. Wolffe could hear every inhale of his breath, could feel the warmth he exuded. He was solid and real, and Wolffe buried his head against Plo's shoulder.
"I thought I'd never see you again," Wolffe finally muttered.
"Why?"
Wolffe didn't want to reveal his thoughts, ashamed that he had doubted his General.
Plo was too perceptive though. He pulled back, and Wolffe reluctantly lifted his head. Freeing one hand, Plo gently cupped Wolffe's cheek, careful of his sharp claws. "The will of the Force is the only power that I would accept to part us, and given all we have been through, I do not believe it is the will of the Force that we should be separated. We will always find each other."
"Is that what you want?" Wolffe asked, unable to keep his doubts to himself any longer.
"Of course. Isn't it what you want?" Plo's tone was sure; he knew Wolffe's heart.
Wolffe rubbed his cheek against Plo's hand. "You should hate me." He didn't have to say why.
"It's not my nature to hate," Plo said quietly, letting the flat of his thumb caress Wolffe's cheek. "Nor do I blame you or any of your brothers for what the Sith forced you to do. I could not do that even if I wished it."
Wolffe closed his eyes, feeling foolish for ever thinking it would be any other way. He should leave it but he couldn't help saying, "Still, it would be easier for you without me."
Plo moved his hand so he was cupping the back of Wolffe's head, which forced Wolffe to open his eyes again and see Plo. With his mask and goggles, it was almost impossible to see his expression, but Wolffe knew his General. He could feel how serious Plo was.
"You would see me alone then?" His tone was carefully neutral, and Wolffe did not know if he was hurt by his Commander's words.
Still, Wolffe was quick to reassure, "No! Of course not. I don't want to be anywhere but with you."
"But you fear I do not feel the same." Plo's unerring insight burned Wolffe.
He should put some distance between them. This wasn't a conversation he could handle right now.
But he couldn't let go.
Floundering, he didn't know what to say. Plo studied him quietly, and then his tense posture relaxed.
"There is nothing to fear, my Commander. Perhaps it would be wiser to part ways, but I do not desire that. I have waited here all this time—staying far longer than I could justify for my safety—but I waited all the same. I could not go when there was still hope you would come, and we would be reunited. I waited for you. I waited because I love you." Wolffe's breath caught. "I'm sorry I haven't said it before now."
Plo's words were very quiet but as heartfelt as everything he said. Wolffe could only stare, unable to get his tired mind to utter the words screaming in his heart.
Fortunately, R7 came to the rescue. In binary, he said, "Commander Wolffe loves you too. He's been very anxious to find you."
Wolffe could only nod, a lump forming in his throat keeping him from saying the words.
He was grateful for the droid saying what he could not. He was less grateful when R7 continued, "He hasn't attended to his sleep-cycles nor consumed the appropriate fuel for humans."
Wolffe shot R7 a dirty look, but of course the droid didn't understand it. The skin around Plo's eyes bunched up—a sign he was smiling. He clearly hadn't missed it.
"Thank you for telling me, R7. We must see that our Commander gets the rest he's been lacking." The amusement in his voice was unmistakable.
But it was a warm amusement, and when R7 beeped in apparent satisfaction with himself, Wolffe couldn't be angry.
"I love you too," he said, forcing the words out because it mattered he said them. He realized Plo had always known. Wolffe needed to say it for his own sake; he needed it out there in the air between them.
Plo's expression softened behind his mask. He moved his hand so he was again cupping Wolffe's cheek.
"It's good to have the two of you back," Plo said quietly.
"I won't be parted again," Wolffe said firmly.
Plo nodded. "I know."
There was more to say, but R7 hadn't lied. Wolffe was so tired, and Plo seemed to understand. Gently, he pulled Wolffe back into his embrace, and Wolffe went gladly.
Tomorrow, they would discuss contingency plans and make a getaway to somewhere new.
Today, Wolffe just treasured having his Jedi back.