501st: An Imperial Commando Novel Read Online Free Page B

weren’t the entire strength of the former Special Operations Brigade. Niner estimated it was less than a quarter, maybe a thousand men, so he wondered how they’d been selected. He had no way of recognizing any of them until they spoke or moved, though, because the individual paint schemes they’d been encouraged to apply to their armor, Mandalorian-style, had now been erased by a sea of uniform black. It said more clearly than anything that the galaxy had changed. Niner didn’t even spot Scorch until the man slipped into a space beside him. His vivid yellow armor flashes were gone.
    Funny. We’re used to recognizing individuals with identical faces, but then I’m thrown for a loop when everyone’s got the same armor
.
    “How are things,
ner vod?”
Scorch asked. “You’ve been keeping to yourselves lately.”
    Niner decided it was probably a bad idea to speak
Mando’a
in front of strangers, although he wasn’t sure why. By
strangers
, he meant any of the 501st stormtroopers who hadn’t started life as Republic commandos on Kamino, trained by Mando sergeants. He wasn’t sure if he could think of them as brothers.
    “I’ve not been well,” Niner said, deadpan.
    “Heard about the injury. Nasty.” Scorch didn’t say if he knew the detail of the fight at Shinarcan Bridge. Butit was no secret that a woman had been killed when she stepped between a clone trooper and a Jedi’s lightsaber. Just how many people knew it was Etain was another matter. “I think we’ve got some ARCs here, too. Imagine that, the ARC boys having to slum it with us lesser mortals … so how are you, Dar?”
    Darman shrugged. “I hate this new armor.”
    “Yeah, it’s a waste of creds. Nothing wrong with the old kit. Fixer hates it, too. Boss couldn’t care less.”
    Niner had to ask. “Any news on Sev?”
    He said it as neutrally as he could. Darman wasn’t the only man here with painful memories. Every commando knew that Delta Squad had lost contact with Sev and left him behind when they banged out of Kashyyyk. Quite a few men thought the squad should have told General Yoda to shove his order to pull out, and gone back for their buddy. But Yoda was now gone, too, along with the rest of the Jedi. Sev was one more tragedy in a grinding, oddly pointless war, the extra agony piled on by losing comrades in the last days of the fighting.
    Like Etain. She was minutes—no
, seconds
away from getting off Coruscant for good. It’s just cruel. It shouldn’t have been like that
.
    “No,” Scorch said, his voice a little hoarse. “Sev’s still MIA.”
    He didn’t ask about Etain. But Delta Squad knew about her and Dar. Niner just hoped that the gossip hadn’t reached Vader.
    Vader … Vader was as far from General Arligan Zey as any being could be, a huge figure encased completely in black armor, helmet, and cape. His voice and rasping breath didn’t even sound human, although rumor said he was. He swept into the hall and didn’t even introduce himself. He didn’t need to. In two or three weeks, he’d become the name whispered in messes and canteens. This was the Emperor’s right hand, and he could do things that only Jedi could do, like moving things—and smashing them—without touching them.
    Someone said he’d been a Jedi once. But so hadDooku. It would be no big surprise if that was true. Niner didn’t know or care about that, but he’d treat Vader with caution anyway. He stood to attention. The last thing he wanted right then was to be singled out as an individual. He wanted to vanish.
    Vader stood with his thumb hooked in his belt, his rhythmic, wheezing breaths sounding like a machine. “We have tracked down many of the traitors who escaped the Purge, but our work is not finished,” he boomed. “There are still Jedi evading justice, and we have deserters from our own ranks to deal with. You will live up to your name as Vader’s Fist. You will hunt down the remaining fugitives.”
    Niner expected some