have all the others.”
Soldier patted her hand and stood. His eyes fell on Scar’s body, her face covered in leaking sores. He imagined infected blood crawling across the floor, boring into the flesh of the others. But he knew it was fanciful. He thought Mother might be fanciful, too, but knew better than to say so. If Mother was real and was testing them, then Scar had already failed. Others would, too, he had no doubt.
He got blankets for the children and picked his way through his unconscious and semiconscious siblings, uttering soft words of encouragement. He finally made his way across the cargo bay to Seer. He still had not injected her. With the screams of the other clones ended by the meds, Seer’s prayers to Mother filled the silence.
Before he reached her, Maker sat up and rose on unsteady legs.
“Soldier,” Maker said. “Come here.”
“In a moment,” Soldier said.
“Now,” Maker said, and occupied the space between Seer and Soldier. Maker’s expression was twitchy, uncontrolled. The others looked on or not, their expressions vacant. Maker stepped close to Soldier and spoke through bared teeth.
“You aren’t sick,” he said, his voice the low volume of a threat.
From behind Soldier, Two-Blade murmured agreement, though he never opened his eyes. Blessing and Grace whimpered. They always disliked conflict among the members of the Community.
“And you aren’t because I gave you the meds,” Soldier answered.
Maker’s eyes moved from Soldier to Scar’s body. Maker and Scar had been mates, and Scar’s corpse was a whetstone that sharpened Maker’s rage. Through their empathic connection, Soldier could feel the anger growing in Maker, a dark cloud that promised a storm.
“Why aren’t you sick, Soldier?” Maker asked. His body twitched, a spasm that shook him from head to toe. “I can feel them crawling under my skin, the midis. Do you feel them?”
Soldier did not answer. He looked past Maker toward Seer.
“Seer—”
“She won’t help you,” Maker snapped.
The anger kindled in Soldier by Two-Blade erupted into a sudden flare of heat. Once started, he could not stop the conflagration. He did not want to stop the conflagration. He needed to vent the pressure building in him and Maker was as good a way as any. He stepped nearer to Maker, who stood a hand taller than him, until they were nose to nose.
“I don’t need her help, Maker.”
Maker sneered. Soldier readied himself, fell into the Force.
The anger and fear in the room swirled around them, coalesced into a powerful emotional brew. Maker fed off it, as did Soldier, both of them stuck in a feedback loop that could end only one way.
Maker snatched the hilt of his lightsaber, activated it, and stabbed at Soldier’s abdomen, but Soldier lurched sideways, spun, and used the momentum of the spin to put a Force-augmented kick into Maker’s chest. The impact blew the air from Maker’s lungs and sent him flying five meters across the cargo bay. He hit the wall, bounced off it, roared, and charged Soldier, leaping over the toppled stasis chamber.
The other clones, perhaps roused by the rising tide of anger and power, moaned and shouted.
The power coursing through Soldier intensified. He could not control it. He gave it voice in a shout of rage. Force lightning shot from his fingertips, swirled around him. He extended his left hand and discharged it at Maker. It slammed into him, halted his charge, and lifted him from his feet. Maker screamed.
Soldier relished his pain. Holding Maker aloft, Soldier gestured with his right hand and sent Maker flying into the bulkhead. He hit it hard enough to break bones, then slid toward the floor. Still Soldier did not release him. Using the Force, he slammed him into the bulkhead again, again, again.
Maker’s lightsaber fell from his hand, his arms and legs flailed about as if disconnected from his body, the bones broken, torn from their joints. He looked like a child’s doll. Soldier felt Maker’s pain, let it feed his rage, his power.
Soldier narrowed his focus, gestured with his forefinger and thumb, and seized Maker’s throat in a Force choke. Maker clutched at his neck, gagging. With his other hand, Soldier sent another blast of Force lightning spiraling at Maker. It caught him up in a shroud of crackling energy, but Soldier’s Force choke denied him any screams of pain.
Soldier stared into Maker’s face while Maker’s legs kicked feebly and his face purpled. Soldier continued to squeeze until Maker went still. Only then did he let the body fall to the floor. Maker’s