Nerra

“Leia!”

The young Twi’lek woman grinned widely as she entered Leia’s office. The senator instantly rose from her desk and strode up to the door, where the two women immediately met in a hug.

“Numa,” said Leia, “how are you? How’s Ryloth?”

Numa shrugged as she pulled out of the embrace. “Ryloth’s doing all right,” she said in her thickly accented voice, “and as for me, I can’t complain. Of course, now that the war’s over I’ve had to adjust to there not being a Rebellion to fight for.”

“We all have,” said Leia, heading back to her desk. “Anyway, what brings you here? I haven’t seen you since the war ended.”

Numa’s teeth ran over her lower lip. “Well, I wanted to ask a favor, actually. I heard you have access to the old Republic’s war databases.”

“Yes?”

“And . . . well, I was wondering if you could look in the database for two clone troopers.”

“Clone troopers?” Leia couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

Numa nodded as she sat in front of the desk. “See, when I was little, my home planet of Ryloth was attacked by the Separatists. They killed my parents and I got separated from my uncle.” She brushed her hand over Leia’s desk as if testing the hardness. “I was all alone . . . but then two clone troopers found me. They saved my life and helped me find my uncle.” Her voice grew soft. “In all these years I’ve never forgotten them – in fact, they probably helped inspire me to fight in the Rebellion.”

Leia’s lips curled. “Well, I can look in the database, but I have to warn you that most of the clones are dead.”

“I know that,” said Numa. “I’d just like to know what happened to them.”

“All right,” said Leia, turning to her computer and logging into the old Republic databases, “I’ll see what I can find. What were their numbers?”

Numa gulped. “Er . . . I don’t know, but I remember their names.”

“All right, what were their names?”

“Waxer and Boil.”

Leia wasn’t sure if searching the clones by name instead of number would bring anything up, but she ran a search for “Waxer” and it actually brought up his information. She scanned through the text to the end, where it said “killed in the Battle of Umbara.”

The senator gulped, slowly looking back up at Numa, whose eyes were pleading at her. “I’m . . . I’m sorry,” Leia said in careful voice, “but it says Waxer was killed in the Clone Wars.”

The Twi’lek drew a quick, sharp breath through her nose as her eyes fluttered, though she quickly calmed herself. “All right . . . I knew that might happen . . . but what about Boil?”

With slight hesitance, Leia ran a search for the name “Boil.” She scanned through that text as cautiously as if a blaster would fire if she missed something, hoping it wouldn’t end the same way as Waxer’s. She scanned it a second time just to make sure she hadn’t missed something, but it turned out she was right.

“It doesn’t say Boil’s dead.”

There was very visible relaxation in the Twi’lek’s face and a hint of a smile in her mouth. “It doesn’t? Then where is he?”

Leia’s mouth twisted. “Well . . . that’s where things get complicated. See, he’s believed to be at the Clone Care Center.”

“What’s that?”

Numa’s eyes were wide and round and Leia wished she didn’t have to say this. “With the clones’ growth acceleration, the few that are left are old now – and many of them are also . . . well, senile. If Boil is there, he might not remember you . . . he might not even remember himself.”

“I want to see him,” Numa said without any hesitation. “Where is this center?”

The Twi’lek’s eyes were still so wide and pleading and Leia found herself wanting to help her war comrade in any way possible. “I’ll tell you what. On my lunch break, I’ll take you there.”

. . .

He spent his days staring at the ceiling.

Staring and remembering.

Memories would jump in his mind only to disappear seconds later, followed by more memories that would also vanish in a moment. Sometimes people would talk to him and take care of his bodily needs, but those always-jumping memories kept him from acknowledging their presence most of the time.

They kept jumping in and out.

Glowing light swords . . . what were they called?

The people raising the swords . . . who were they?

There were battles . . . many battles . . .

And death . . .

Death was the one thing he always remembered: the one thing that never went away.

Death . . . killing.

He remembered killing.

. . .

Upon arriving at the Clone Care Center, Leia and Numa were instructed to wait in the rec room, where five elderly clones were participating in leisurely activities – watching the holovid, playing holochess, or reading from datapads. Numa awkwardly sat on one of the couches in front of the holovid, wondering if she was allowed to talk to them or not. These particular clones didn’t appear to be senile – in fact, this room felt like it could be a recreation center in a retirement village.

“Hey, you’re Numa, aren’t you?”

Numa jumped a little in her seat as she turned towards the clone on the other end of the couch, who was smiling at her through his white beard. “Yes,” she answered, “do I know you?”

“No, not personally,” said the clone, “but I saw you around during the war. The name’s Rex, I was a part-time crew member of the Ghost.”

“You’re Captain Rex?” Numa grinned back at him. “Yes, I remember seeing you and those other clones in passing . . . but how did you end up here?”

Rex shrugged. “Ah, body’s not what it used to be, but the Republic’s taking good care of us in our old age. I don’t know how many years I’ve got left, so I’m glad to spend them in comfort.”

Numa found herself shivering. “Forcing you to age prematurely, it’s so cruel what the Kaminoans did to all of you.”

Rex shrugged again. “You play the hand you’re dealt, kid. I may not live as long as I would’ve if I were born regularly, but I’ve sure as hell had a full life.”

“Do you know if Boil’s here?”

Rex’s face fell, his mouth seeming to dig down into his beard. “Yes . . . he’s here, but he hasn’t been doing well.”

Numa concentrated on keeping her face still – she had been prepared for news such as this, after all. Still, there was a sudden tingle in her hands and a tightness in her stomach.

“Boil used to talk about you,” Rex continued, leaning back in the couch. “Said you were adorable. If . . . well, if things had gone differently, he might have wanted to settle down and have his own kids.”

Numa’s cheeks heated up a little at being called adorable, but fortunately a nurse stepped in before the conversation could continue. “Senator Organa, Miss Numa, you may see Boil now.”

“Good luck, kid,” Rex said as Numa rose from the couch.

“Thank you, Rex.” Numa swallowed as she followed the nurse, her hands trembling.

. . .

The nurse led them into a room that resembled a hospital room, smelling of antiseptic, and echoing the beep of a heart monitor. The lights were dimmed, meaning it took a moment for Numa to make out the elderly man lying in the bed. Unlike Rex, he had a full head of white hair and no beard, but otherwise he looked exactly like the other clones.

“Boil?” Numa asked as she approached the bed.

The man just stared upwards as if he hadn’t heard her.

“Boil?” she asked again after a large swallow. “It’s me, Numa. The little girl from Ryloth. Remember me?”

This time his head made a slight movement towards her, but he still said nothing. He blinked at her as if trying to piece together who she was.

Numa swallowed again, feeling her eyes welling up. She took her thoughts back to that long-ago day, remembering the word she’d used to label him and Waxer. In another moment, her hand gently rested on his chest.

“Nerra,” she whispered.

Finally there was a flash of recognition in his eyes. His cracked lips gave the tiniest hint of a smile, though it appeared to be a strain to do so. “Nerra . . .” he said in a raspy voice, “. . . brother . . .”

“Yes, yes!” A tear was streaming down Numa’s face, but she didn’t care. “Brother.”

“Numa . . .” Boil continued. “You . . . got . . . big . . .” A string of coughs interrupted his words.

“Yes,” said Numa, “I did. I even became a soldier just like you.”

“Soldier . . .” The word seemed to trigger something deep within him. “I . . . killed . . .” He coughed again. “Killed . . . betrayed . . .”

“Shh, shh.” Numa gave his hand a gentle pat. “I know, but it wasn’t your fault. The Emperor forced you to do it – you had no choice.”

Boil only coughed again in a more strenuous manner, causing the nurse to come up to the bed. “It’s all right, Boil, don’t strain yourself.” She looked up at Numa. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but he needs his rest.”

After the coughs died down, Boil smiled up at the Twi’lek again. “Good . . . seeing you again . . .”

“I’ll come visit again soon,” said Numa. “I promise.” After squeezing his hand one more time, she made her way to Leia, who was standing in the doorway, and threw her arms around her. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“I was happy to help,” said Leia.

Before leaving, Numa took one last look at the clone in the bed, who was still smiling as the nurse checked his blood pressure.

“Nerra,” she said again. “Brother.”

THE END