Chapter Text
~*~
Something isn't right, hasn't been since the mission to Teth.
For as long as he can remember there's been this pressure, this voice, in the back of his mind, murmuring things, pushing against his training. Strange, because he can't remember anything before the training; just waking up in the facility, being told he'd been selected for a special program, and going into it.
The training itself hadn't seemed particularly remarkable, save for its intensity. Even that wasn't too hard for him to weather, seemed familiar in some way. The other trainees didn't fair as well as he did, and he had to wonder why. He was different than them—physically and otherwise—but still a clone, and so should have had a similar reaction within the appropriate margin of error. He didn't, though. Odd, though outliers were to be expected, even in cloning.
The push against the training is no doubt part of the same variance. He's learned to ignore it, the same way he can (if he concentrates) ignore numerous other things which bother him: the close fit of the helmet's padding, the sniper rifle that gives him fewer options at close range, the datapad built into his suit rather than something he can hold and easily swap out in instances of damage. Minor annoyances he pushes past with concerted effort.
All this time, it's never been more than a suggestion, an idea. Something he sees in the corner of his mind's eye, can never bring into focus.
Then he's stunned and falls, drags himself out of a river, half-drowned. He remembers another fall, another river, clearing his lungs and collapsing. The images stand stark in his mind, as undeniable as they are impossible. He's never done those things before.
~*~
Since then the pressure, the murmur, is present all the time. It makes him second guess, fills him with uncertainty. His instincts have stopped lining up with his expectations. He doesn't act the moment he's decided. He hesitates, he prevaricates.
It starts with the Trandoshan. He can't say why, but once she gives up the name of the pirate, desperate and in excruciating pain, he stops. He should kill her. She might warn them, after all. It's the correct tactical choice.
He doesn't. He departs, only realizes after he's made the jump to hyperspace that he did in fact leave her alive in that dingy little parlor on Ord Mantell. Should he turn around and fix this mistake?
(No. No time.)
Yes, there's no time. He has to track the pirate, who despite being a pirate and thus (in theory) not trained to the standards he is proves rather difficult to locate. But find her he does, because that's what he’s been trained to do.
~*~
She's familiar. He doesn't know how, but she is. A dossier he read during training? Someone he ran into during the war? He can't remember the war, just knows that, as a clone, he was part of it, presumably interacted with a variety of civilians in the process. Maybe this pirate was one of them.
(It's more than that. He knows it is, can't or won't accept it even as the truth of it buries itself in his mind. It’s a splinter he lacks the tools to pry out, reminding him of its presence at random intervals. Her name isn't merely the identity of a pirate who has been in the presence of the target. There is a relevance to him; if he thinks on it long enough, worries at this sliver of an idea, he might—)
Like with the Trandoshan he knows he can and should kill her, take the information, and leave. This time, concrete reasons arise: the target could be alerted to her death and go further into hiding; an altercation might get him noticed by station security; if she's more resourceful than it seems it could take more time than he has.
(And he can't do it. Or won't. Assuming the distinction is meaningful, which it might not be. At the mere idea this unquiet part of him turns his mind away from the possibility like light bent by gravity.)
He stealths onto the ship, finds himself tripping over a security measure which shouldn't be there. Why is there an alert on this model of ship's computer? Annoyed yet undeterred, he bypasses the alarm, finds himself faced with encryption the likes of which no pirate should have. Encryption that he...knows...
Well, of course he does. He's conversant in several security methodologies, from the oldest to the most recent. This appears to be custom work, though, quite elaborate too, impressive for a pirate with no (that he saw in her dossier) infosec background. Anyways, if it's custom, how would he know it?
The refueling is done before he can come to a satisfactory answer. She almost catches him leaving, and for reasons he can't be sure of this unnerves him. He can't let her see him. He can't. Why isn't clear—she won't be a match for him, no matter how skilled she is with that cutlass. Yet...
He slips away, watches her go, datarod gripped tightly in his hand. The encryption will take time to break, but he can get it done. No one has written an algorithm he can't pick apart, not yet.
~*~
The target is on the small, bright blue planet, with the clones. No sign of the pirate, so the Trandoshan must not have warned any of them.
He's given leave to kill the clones. Deal with them. On Teth he hadn't checked, simply assumed anything between him and the target was an obstacle to remove and nothing more. This time, he asks. Maybe his superiors will want them for the program? For something else? He's hesitant to assume, that nagging disquiet within him not wanting the confirmation. He gets it, after a fashion: if they get in the way.
The larger one is thrown a good distance into the cove's waters when he destroys the shuttle. That one can withstand a great deal, but a blast at that range will take care of him for a little while.
(He'd been in bacta for a tenday after—)
The squad leader is on a LAAT he sends into the ocean. He could shoot at him directly, though the shot into the cockpit is easier as the final target is moderately more stationary within the bounds of the erratically swerving ship. The clone might survive, might not. It's enough that he doesn't return promptly.
The sniper remains out of sight, though that's hardly a surprise. If he appears he can be dealt with. Alone he won't stand a chance.
This should all be sufficient. He wasn't told to kill them, sees no reason to go outside the bounds of his orders unless it becomes necessary.
The same is true of the community leader who makes various demands, indignant over the treatment of his people. He's a tall, proud man; taller than the large clone, in fact. Still, no need to kill him. He's not dangerous, unarmed and without armor, probably no military experience either. He might not even be a match for one of the commandos. Though perhaps he could be useful as a bargaining chip...
It winds up not being necessary. The girl gives herself up before he has any need to escalate. The pirate makes no appearance before they jump to hyperspace.
And that strange, traitorous part of him is relieved.