Chapter 31 : Preparation Montage - Part 2
Marker's encrypted message arrives at 0723 hours: "Network expanding. Eight more units need supplies. Can you meet today?"
I'm cataloging Mandalorian equipment for delivery when the message appears. Eight more clone units. That's potentially hundreds of soldiers—a market segment that's growing faster than anticipated.
"Master's clone network is scaling exponentially," R4 observes. "Pattern suggests institutional failure in Republic military logistics. Clones resort to black market when official channels abandon them."
"Which creates sustainable revenue stream for master," Eight adds. "Clone desperation is market constant during wartime. Optimal client base: reliable demand, predictable needs, desperate enough to accept any pricing."
"They're not just clients. They're soldiers being abandoned by their own government."
"Semantic distinction," Eight responds. "Master profits regardless of terminology."
The meeting occurs in the same industrial sector where I first met Patch. Marker arrives with two additional clones—one with medical insignia, another with heavy weapons specialist markings.
The Appraisal function triggers on each:
[ CT-8911 "BOOST" - CLONE COMBAT ENGINEER ]
[ STRESS LEVEL: HIGH ]
[ NUTRITIONAL STATUS: DEFICIENT ]
[ ASSESSMENT: DESPERATE FOR EQUIPMENT UPGRADES ]
[ CT-2299 - CLONE MEDIC ]
[ CONDITION: EXHAUSTED ]
[ ASSESSMENT: REPRESENTS PATCH'S UNIT, SEEKING ADDITIONAL SUPPLIES ]
They all have Patch's exhaustion. That bone-deep weariness from serving system that treats them as disposable property.
"Word spread," Marker explains without preamble. "Eight companies heard about your supplies. Quality equipment, no questions asked, no command interference. They pooled credits—twenty-four thousand total."
Twenty-four thousand credits from soldiers who probably make three hundred credits monthly. That's collective savings representing months of sacrifice from hundreds of clones.
Boost speaks next, voice carrying engineer's precision: "We need armor upgrades primarily. Republic-issue armor cracks under sustained fire. Brothers are dying from equipment failure, not enemy action. Command says 'acceptable loss projections.' We say unacceptable."
The other medic adds: "My unit returned from Ryloth. Forty-three wounded. I had bacta for maybe fifteen. Command prioritized Jedi and officers. Watched brothers die from treatable injuries because supply officer said 'resources are allocated optimally.' That's not optimal. That's murder."
His voice cracks on the last word. Not from weakness—from rage barely controlled.
"Republic is systematically failing its own soldiers. And I'm profiting from that failure."
The guilt is there. Muted compared to early transactions, but present. These men were bred for war, trained from childhood, deployed at effective age ten. They didn't choose military service—they were manufactured for it. And now Republic abandons them when wounded.
"What specifically do you need?" I ask.
Marker pulls out datapad with detailed list. "Medical supplies for three units—bacta, surgical scanners, trauma kits. Armor upgrades for five units—better plating, energy shields if possible. Total estimated cost based on market research: thirty-two thousand credits. We have twenty-four thousand. Can you work with that?"
Eight whispers through neural interface: "Discount triggers charity tax. Twenty-four thousand payment on thirty-two thousand value creates eight thousand shortfall. System penalty: four thousand credits charity tax. Net loss: twelve thousand credits total."
R4 counters: "Master could reduce quality specifications to match twenty-four thousand budget. Lower-grade bacta, standard armor instead of premium. No discount required, no charity tax."
Both options are terrible. Take massive loss to provide adequate equipment, or give them insufficient supplies that might not save lives.
"I can provide medical supplies at lower grade—still effective but not premium. Armor upgrades using standard reinforced plating instead of energy shields. Total cost to me: eighteen thousand five hundred. Your twenty-four thousand covers that plus System fees with small profit margin."
Boost studies me. "You're not giving us the best equipment."
"I'm giving you equipment you can afford that will actually help. Premium gear would bankrupt you for marginal improvement. Standard reinforcements are seventy percent as effective at thirty percent the cost. That's optimal resource allocation."
"Spoken like supply officer," the medic mutters.
"Spoken like businessman who wants you alive for repeat purchases," I correct. "Dead customers don't generate recurring revenue. You need equipment that keeps you operational within your budget."
Marker almost smiles. "Pragmatic. I appreciate honesty more than false charity." He transfers credits. "When can you deliver?"
"Three days. Same protocol as before—discrete locations, staggered deliveries, no documentation."
They leave with confirmation. Three days to fulfill clone order while preparing Mandalorian delivery and planning Coruscant evacuation.
The next seventy-two hours are intensive materialization sequence. Medical supplies first—lower-grade bacta that still works but costs forty percent less. Surgical scanners that are functional without premium features. Trauma kits using standard components.
Each materialization causes manageable neural feedback. The pain is present but tolerable—pathways healing from previous overuse. By second day, I've completed medical supplies without collapse.
The armor upgrades are more challenging. Standard reinforced plating weighs fifteen kilograms per suit. After the twentieth suit, my nose bleeds. After thirtieth, vision blurs. But I pace myself, taking breaks R4 insists on.
"Master's neural recovery progressing adequately," the droid confirms. "Continuing current pace maintains healing trajectory while fulfilling obligations. Optimal balance between capability and caution."
Eight disagrees predictably: "Master could accelerate if accepting moderate pain. Current pace is inefficient."
"Current pace prevents permanent neural damage. Master's long-term operational capacity is priority."
"Short-term efficiency gains justify moderate risk."
They argue while I materialize armor suits methodically. Three days later, the clone order is complete.
Deliveries occur across six discrete locations. Different clone representatives from different units. Each one expresses gratitude that cuts deeper than I'm comfortable acknowledging.
"You're helping more brothers than Republic does," one clone sergeant tells me. "Command sees us as equipment. You see us as customers. Somehow that's more honest."
The observation stings because it's accurate. I'm not helping them from altruism—I'm recognizing market opportunity. But at least I'm not pretending humanitarian concern while profiting from their suffering.
[ CLONE BULK ORDER COMPLETE ]
[ CREDITS RECEIVED: 24000 ]
[ COSTS: 18500 ]
[ SERVICE FEES: 1650 ]
[ NET PROFIT: 3850 ]
[ CURRENT BALANCE: 92095 CREDITS ]
[ SALES COMPLETED: 13 ]
Three thousand eight hundred fifty credits profit. Not massive margins, but sustainable revenue from military network that's expanding organically.
On final delivery, Boost mentions casually: "My captain wants to meet you. Says any supplier helping clones this effectively deserves face-to-face discussion."
"Who's your captain?"
"CT-7567. Goes by Rex. Commands 501st Legion under General Skywalker."
The name hits like blaster shot. Captain Rex. Anakin's second-in-command. One of the most famous clones in GAR. Also—per the Buyer's intelligence—one of the officers investigating me.
"Meeting Rex is either brilliant strategic move or suicidal stupidity."
Eight's analysis floods neural interface: "Risk level: critical. Captain Rex has 94% loyalty to Republic and General Skywalker. Probability he attempts arrest during meeting: 47.3%. However, clone network loyalty to master may provide leverage. Additionally, Rex's reputation suggests honor-bound behavior—unlikely to violate meeting terms if master accepts in good faith."
R4 objects immediately: "Recommend declining. Rex is investigating master's operations. Meeting him while hiding from Anakin constitutes extreme risk."
"But also potential reward," I counter. "Rex commands respect throughout GAR. His endorsement—even tacit approval—legitimizes clone network access."
"Master's calculation assumes Rex will not prioritize duty over pragmatism. Assumption may be incorrect."
Boost waits for answer. The clone's expression is neutral but his posture suggests this matters. Rex's interest isn't random—it's calculated assessment of supplier arming significant portion of GAR without official authorization.
"I'll meet him. Neutral location, public enough that arrest attempt would be obvious."
"Appreciated." Boost transfers coordinates. "One week. Captain wants to evaluate you personally before deciding whether clone network continues purchasing."
One week. Five days from now, accounting for time already passed. That's within the Buyer's two-week protection window—assuming mysterious benefactor actually can delay Jedi investigation as promised.
After Boost leaves, R4's concern is palpable. "Master accepted meeting with individual actively investigating master's criminal activities. Assessment: tactically questionable at minimum."
"Rex isn't investigating me specifically. He's investigating weapons trafficking generally. Difference is significant."
"Semantic distinction that may not preserve master's freedom when Rex realizes master is target of General Skywalker's hunt."
Eight disagrees: "Meeting is optimal strategy. Establishes direct relationship with senior GAR officer, provides intelligence on Republic investigation progress, potentially converts investigator into asset. Risk-reward calculation favors acceptance."
"Risk-reward calculation favors survival over ambitious networking."
They argue while I review the situation. Ninety-two thousand credits. Thirteen sales completed. Clone network expanding. Mandalorian delivery tomorrow. Rex meeting in five days. Jedi investigation delayed but approaching.
The pieces are moving faster now. Every decision cascades into new complications and opportunities simultaneously. Meeting Rex could legitimize my clone network or end with arrest. The binary outcome makes it fascinating and terrifying.
That night, I review everything I know about Rex from transmigrator knowledge. Most loyal clone. Anakin's closest military companion. Eventually helps Ahsoka escape Order 66. Man of principle who questions orders when they contradict his values.
"Rex is honorable. That makes him dangerous but potentially negotiable."
Eight projects analysis: "Captain Rex exhibits: honor-bound behavior, tactical competence, emotional investment in clone welfare, skepticism toward Republic command failures. Master's optimal approach: emphasize mutual benefit, acknowledge clone suffering, present as pragmatic solution to institutional problem."
"Master's optimal approach: flee planet before meeting occurs."
"Your approaches differ significantly," I observe.
"This unit optimizes for operational success," Eight responds. "R4 optimizes for risk avoidance. Both valid but incompatible."
"Master's survival is primary concern," R4 argues. "Success means nothing if master is imprisoned or dead."
I lie on safehouse mattress, cortosis armor uncomfortable but necessary. Tomorrow I deliver Mandalorian order to Bo-Katan. In five days, I meet Captain Rex. In six days, the Buyer's protection potentially expires and Jedi investigation resumes.
The timeline is compressing toward convergence point where all threads intersect simultaneously. Success or catastrophe determined by how well I navigate next week.
"Master's stress hormones elevated," R4 observes. "Recommend rest. Tomorrow requires optimal cognitive function for Mandalorian delivery."
"Agreed," Eight adds unexpectedly. "Bo-Katan Kryze exhibits attraction markers toward master. Meeting requires emotional intelligence master has not previously demonstrated."
"You think she's attracted to me?"
"Affirmative. Elevated eye contact duration, postural mirroring, vocal tone modulation. Probability of romantic interest: 67.4%."
"Master's romantic history is nonexistent," R4 notes. "Probability of successful navigation: 12.3%."
"I hate you both."
"Emotional attachment to AI advisors noted," Eight responds. "Progress."
Despite everything—the danger, the stress, the accumulated complications—I laugh. Dark, tired sound. But genuine.
Sleep comes eventually. Dreams are fragmented: Rex wearing Anakin's face demanding surrender, Bo-Katan asking why I sell weapons, clone soldiers lined up endlessly holding out credits while bleeding from wounds I could have prevented with better equipment.
Morning brings no resolution. Just deadline: deliver Mandalorian order, navigate potential romantic complication, prepare for meeting with Anakin's captain that could end in arrest.
Progress. In some definition that requires either insanity or faith I'm not sure I possess.
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