501st: An Imperial Commando Novel by Karen Traviss

that kills most humans it infects?”
    “What would
you
leave him with?”
    “One that wouldn’t even kill bugs. It’s a dangerous toy for a man like that.”
    “The strain I was working on when you removed me from the Valorum Center wasn’t actually … finished. I had to have my own insurance, remember. He wouldn’t have needed me alive once I delivered it.”
    “So Palpatine’s got a less choosy version of your doomsday bug? The one that might affect
everyone
?”
    “I believe so.”
    She hadn’t planned it that way, not at all. She just hadn’t known that she’d be plucked from Republic custody without warning. But if the fool used it, he’d wipe out most of Coruscant, his own power base.
    That’ll teach him … 
    “Wayii …”
Gilamar blew out a long breath, eyebrows raised. Uthan rather liked him. It was a pleasant change to have intelligent and challenging conversation, especially with someone who didn’t think she was clinically insane. Three years in solitary with only a substandard psychiatrist for occasional company had nearly made her genuinely crazy. “Does the
shabuir
know what he’s got?”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “His scientists are mediocre at best. But if he does, then he’d better be too smart to use it carelessly.”
    “What’s an Empire if you lose most of your subjects? No fun lording it over a few Hutts, two banthas, and a Weequay, after all.”
    “Well … a Weequay might not be resistant to the virus, either.”
    Gilamar laughed. He could afford to, perhaps; Mandalorewas a long way from Coruscant. “So you know all about the rapid aging sequence. Well, well.”
    “I identified it. Not the same thing.”
    “The next thing I really want to hear you say is that you can switch it off.”
    Uthan was still waiting for the real game to emerge. Nobody would go to all this trouble and amass so much commercial data for sentimental reasons. It was worth billions. Cloning companies would pay that simply to stop their customers being able to bypass built-in senescence in the clones they’d bought.
    “What’s Skirata really going to do with it?” she asked. “This whole operation, the planning, the risks—that’s not just for the welfare of a few clones.”
    Gilamar’s expression changed. His facial muscles slackened, and for a moment he actually looked as if he pitied her. For some reason, this cynical man—he was too intelligent to be otherwise—seemed not to be expecting that question.
    “Have you never loved anyone so much that you’d do anything to save them?” Gilamar looked down at his armor for a moment. Uthan still wondered why it was that same dull sandy gold as Skirata’s. It might have been regimental, but Mandos didn’t seem the uniform kind. “Do you understand how much Kal loves those boys? Because if you don’t, then you won’t understand just how far he’ll go to get what he wants for them.”
    “But this is worth
billions … 
Mij.”
    “Is that why
you
do it? Material gain?”
    “No.” Credits had one purpose for her; to enable her to enjoy her life, and what gave her pleasure and purpose was her science. “I’m sorry. I assumed mercenaries would want to maximize income.”
    “Well, even mercs have other motives. Besides … Kal’s already worth a lot more than a few billion creds. Think again, Doctor. This is about obsession, and consider me obsessed, too.”
    “Call me Qail,” she said. She didn’t believe Skirata was a billionaire, but Kyrimorut had to be costinga lot of creds, and he seemed able to afford any number of weapons and vessels. Nothing flash, nothing conspicuous—but enough to equip a strike force. “We can’t keep calling each other Doctor, because that’ll get tedious.”
    “Okay,
Qail
. And now I know the genes have been identified, I’m really looking forward to working with you.”
    Uthan loved a challenge. She was certain she could switch off the accelerated aging. She wasn’t sure that