Star Wars_ Jedi Trial Part 11

Odie could see the energy bolts of Slayke's artillery being deflected off the behemoths. "Cease fire," she yelled, beating her fists on his helmet as hard as she could-but he remained impervious to her warnings. He fired on the nearest tank droid. Immediately its blaster module swiveled in the direction of the bunker, but before it could unleash a devastating bolt, the ground behind it erupted upward and flipped it forward to land on its back on top of the bunker.

The countermine Slayke had ordered dug beneath the Separatist mine had intersected its target and gone off just in time to break the tank droid charge.

The last thing Odie heard before everything went dark was someone screaming.

Slayke looked at his staff officers. "Time is very short," he began. "I shouldn't waste it on speeches. You all know what to do; we planned for a last stand from the beginning." He paused. "Well, this is it," he told them, but it was obvious to them all that their situation was desperate.

Izable, Eliey, and Kaudine had fallen, and the forward artillery had been withdrawn, along with the survivors of the overrun outposts, to a line centered on Judlie, behind the main command post. This was the plan that had been prepared even before Slayke had landed on Praesitlyn. The enemy had temporarily halted their a.s.sault to straighten their line and bring up reinforcements.

"That's the only break we're going to get," Slayke said. "We'll have time to form a last line of defense at Judlie. Withdraw your remaining forces there immediately." He grabbed his blaster and turned away from the chart table.

He stopped and turned back to his officers. "We all knew this might happen when we intervened. I'm sorry it did. I thought Coruscant would come to our aid. Maybe they're on the way. No matter. We're here, they aren't. When help does arrive we'll have worn these nerfs down to the point where a single Jedi Padawan will be able to kick them to pieces."

He paused. "Surrender is no option for us, not against this army, we all know that." There was one more thing he had to say to his comrades.

"If we've got to die, this is as good a place as any. I am proud to have had the privilege of leading you, of sharing your hardships and your friendship, and I am blessed to have people like you accompany me into the next world. Let's not go easy."

The dozen officers gathered around the chart table snapped to attention, raised their right fists, and shouted, "Oooorahhh!"

Erk slowly became aware of an enormous pressure squeezing down on him. He opened his eyes, but couldn't see anything. Was it was pitch dark, or had he been blinded? Fighting panic, he managed with difficulty to free his arm from the debris pinning it to the bunker floor and brought his wrist in front of his eyes. His chrono glowed comfortingly in the dark and he sighed in relief - he hadn't lost his sight. It was difficult to breathe with that weight pressing down on him. He moved, and the load shifted and groaned. It was Odie - she slipped off to one side, and the two or three large rock fragments that had been pinning her onto him rolled to the floor.

"Oof." He could breathe again.

Odie groaned. "Th-thanks for getting us killed," she gasped at last.

At first Erk didn't know what she meant. Then: "Oh, yeah. I got a lot of them, didn't I?" He flexed his arms and legs and sat up. Despite multiple bruises and contusions he was still m fighting order. He felt around in the dark, found Odie, and lifted her by her armpits. "Where are you hurt?"

Uhn. I have a big, er, feels like a big bruise on my hip. Otherwise--"

She ran a hand through her hair and over her head. " - I think I'm all right." What felt like blood crusted one side of her face. With her fingers she could feel a big gash on that side of her head. "We must ve lain here for a while," she said, experimentally feeling the gash. "The blood's clotted." She felt around her equipment belt and unhooked the glow rod fastened to it. She pressed the activation stud, and the bunker filled with blessed bright light. That was the good news. The bad news was that the blast had caved in the front of the bunker and loosened a huge slab of rock in the ceiling that had broken into two fragments when it fell, imprisoning the pair inside a s.p.a.ce that tapered, like a rocky tent, to about two meters high and three meters wide at the floor. Odie pressed a hand against the rock. "It's as solid as-rock," she said.

"We're lucky it didn't fall right on top of us, or we would have been squashed." She pressed her hands against one slab and pushed. "It seems solid enough now, though. Must be gravity and resistance are keeping them upright."

"Well, we're not squashed. We have air, and we're secure and comfortable in this rocky bower," Erk commented wryly.

"Seems we're spending a lot of time underground together recently."

"Yeah. That's the only way I can manage to find some time alone with you.

How long will that glow rod last?"

Odie shrugged. "It runs on power cells. I recharged it maybe ten days ago, and I don't think I've used it much since. I should be good for seventy-five or a hundred hours."

"We'll be out of here long before then." He picked up his helmet and tried to put it on. No good: when it had been knocked off his head, debris had smashed it. He shook it experimentally, then turned to Odie.

"Try yours."

"I would, if I could find it." She looked around the confined s.p.a.ce.

"It's probably under that rock somewhere. Fine. We're without communications with the command post. If it still exists."

"It does. Count on it. All right, you've kept me in suspense long enough.

What's your plan for getting us out of here?"

She sniffed. "Well, we both start whistling as loud as we can, and when we reach the right pitch of sympathetic vibration the rock will just crack open and we'll emerge into the sunlight, like insects coming out of a chrysalis."

Erk stared at her for a moment and then broke into laughter. She joined him. They laughed until the dust floating in the air made them cough.

"I'm scared," Odie confessed after a while. "We're trapped in here for good, aren't we?"

Erk didn't answer immediately. She had expressed his own fears. "Well, I guess we are sealed in here," he said after a slight pause, as he pressed a hand against the rock slab.

"The Republic never did send anyone, did they?" Odie asked, not really expecting an answer.

"They sure weren't here when we needed them."

"We're going to die in here, aren't we?"

"Sure looks like it." With a sigh, he reached down and took her hand.

'We'll die of thirst before we starve, won't we? To think of all we came through to end it like this." She couldn't keep the bitter taste of despair out of her voice. She turned the glow rod off to preserve its power.

Hours pa.s.sed in the darkness. They whiled away the time reminiscing about better times, friends and relatives, music they liked, their homes, fine meals they'd eaten. Erk was the more experienced in the world through his travels, and he was a good raconteur: he made Odie laugh with his wild tales. They ate the remainder of the small allotment of rations the sergeant had given them when he'd dropped them at the bunker. At least they each still had a full canteen of water.

They were quiet for a time after they ate and quenched their thirst. Then Erk drew Odie closer to him and kissed her. They held each other tightly, until fear and exhaustion overcame them and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

When Erk awoke at last his chrono told him it was late at night. He swallowed a mouthful of water from his canteen, then nudged Odie awake.

"We missed supper," he told her. She sat up and ran her hands through her hair. "Odie, I am not going to die in here! You hear me? We are not going to die in here!"

"How are we going to avoid it?" Odie pressed her hand against the rock.

As before, it was still solid to the touch.

"I don't know, but we will!"

Daylight was fading fast now. With the exception of just a few weapons-no more than a battery-Slayke's heavy artillery pieces had all been knocked out. His aircraft had all long ago been destroyed; he didn't even have a shuttle craft to get back up to what was left of his fleet in orbit, not that anybody was thinking of going anywhere. The enemy's troops had paused after taking over the forward positions in Slayke's defensive line, ostensibly to consolidate their position and shorten their lines for the final attack and to bring up reinforcements for the final, overwhelming push. It could be only minutes away now.

That was the only break Slayke had been given since the a.s.sault began. It would give him the time he needed to prepare for a last stand.

Slayke sat with his eyes glued to the optics that gave him a 360- degree surveillance of the terrain in front of Judlie.

"Sir, here are our dispositions."

A staff officer handed him a display, and he glanced at it quickly. "Tell all commanders to hold their positions at all costs. But tell them I give the ranking soldier in each unit permission to disperse before being overrun. If there's any chance for our troops to scatter and escape into the desert, they can try it. Make that clear." The officer saluted and turned to the communications console.

Slayke thought they'd only die out in the desert, but even so, he consoled himself, they might live a while longer.

A long, rolling artillery barrage began to envelop their positions, shaking the ground around them.

"When that stops, they'll be coming," Slayke said to his command staff.

"When they overrun us, anyone who wants to try can attempt a breakout. No way am I going to stay here and fry."

The optics were no use now; the ground between the two armies was being churned and battered into dust, making it impossible to see anything. He turned to his staff. Their cheeks and eyes were hollow and their faces drained of blood, but each still attended to duty, some talking to the infantry and artillery units, others checking weapons, equipment, water, and rations. Dust from near hits hung suspended in the close, humid air around them; an enormous blast shook the bunker and some officer shouted, "Missed again!" and several of them laughed.

Someone coughed. The officers muttered among themselves, going through the motions of leading an army that virtually no longer existed.

An enormous ripping, tearing roar engulfed them, distant and muted at first, but rising quickly to a deafening crescendo so profound it made their guts vibrate. It was clearly coming from somewhere behind them.

Slayke pounded a fist into his forehead. n.o.body had any doubt what it meant: it was their death knell.

"He's been reinforced!" Slayke said. "Grab your weapons and equipment. "

"Lay on!" an officer shouted as the staff scrambled for the bunker exit.

"At least we'll die fighting!"

Slayke raised a blaster rifle over his head. "Follow me!" he ordered.

16.

Anakin paced the bridge of the Nee/tan, clenching and unclenching his fists as he observed the battle cruisers deploy into attack formation. "I should be out there with them," he muttered.

"No, you belong here," Grudo answered. "That's the plan; everyone agreed to it-you agreed. Commanders, too, must follow orders. Once the battle plan is approved, everyone must follow his or her orders. That way, everything works according to the plan. Please, sit. You're making the crew nervous."

At that moment Captain Luhar, the Nee/tans captain, glanced up at Anakin.

He patted the gravity couch beside him. "Commander, have a seat."

Reluctantly, Anakin lowered himself onto the couch. "I hate just sitting here," he grumbled.

You'll have action soon enough," Luhar replied. He was sure about Anakin, whom he felt might be too young and inexperienced--Jedi or not-to be second in command of a fleet. He hoped that nothing would happen to General Halcyon. "Increase magnification," he ordered his navigator.

Immediately the Ranger came into sharp focus on the viewscreens. "She's a beautiful little ship," Luhar said.

Luhar was a distinguished-looking officer, middle-aged, Ana-kin estimated, with a full head of silver-gray hair. Anakin had admired the man's calm professionalism from the moment he had first stepped onto the Nee/ians bridge. But the Nee/ian's role was to guide the troop transports to safe orbit and oversee the landing operations, not engage the enemy fleet, and despite the great responsibility Anakin had accepted when he'd been given command of this operation, the young Jedi was controlling with difficulty his natural urge for action.

The enemy commander had ordered his ships into a vast boxlike formation in orbit above the hemisphere where the Intergalactic Communications Center was located. "We'll have to break that square to get through to planetfall," Anakin observed.

Luhar nodded. "It's a strong defensive formation, sir. But we'll break it by lining up in a column three ships abreast and attacking at speed. Our ships will concentrate on one side of the square at the same time, in echelon, like a set of moving stairs, to bring the concentrated firepower of our entire battle fleet to bear against that one sector. That's when we go in. Once we're through, we'll disperse the remaining enemy vessels and destroy them individually. Have you ever been in a battle fleet engaged against an enemy, sir?" They'd been over this plan innumerable times, but he knew Anakin would be comforted discussing it again, only minutes before it was to be put into action.

Anakin nodded. "Yes," he said, "but not from the bridge, not watching everything unfold. I got this-" He tapped his prosthesis. "-in individual combat. Have you ever gone one-on-one against someone who was out to kill you, Captain? Have you ever killed anyone up close?"

"Can't say as I have. It's the commander's job to get others to do the killing, not to go in and do it himself."

Anakin shot him a look, suddenly annoyed with the captain - from his tone, it seemed to the young Jedi that he didn't consider individual combat much above the level of starship pilots brawling in a tavern.

"Ah! There're Slayke's remaining vessels." Captain Luhar sat forward in the couch. "They see what we're doing, and they're forming up to attack the port side of that square. You watch, we'll crack that square in no time. Blast it, I wish we had communications with those ships."

"If that jamming platform is anywhere in orbit, sir, we'll get it, the fire-control officer said, looking back over his shoulder from the console where he sat.

Anakin concentrated on controlling himself. Drawing on his Jedi training, he slowed his heartbeat and made himself relax. He knew he shouldn't have taken Captain Luhar's remark so personally. It was only natural for these older military professionals to question his ability to command them: they had minds of their own and a long list of campaigns to prove their coolness in combat. He would just have to prove he could do it. He deepened his breathing, forced the tension out of his muscles, and put all troubling thoughts out of his mind. Now he could more clearly observe the activity on the bridge. The crew were going about their duties quietly, with the confidence born of long experience. He switched his viewing console to cover the deployment formation of his transports. They stretched out in columns far behind the Neelian. Escort ships, alert for any approaching danger, cruised about the periphery of the transport columns in apparently aimless courses, but Anakin knew that the commanders of those ships were actually very carefully patrolling their a.s.signed sectors, alert for any approaching danger. Even if they totally destroyed the enemy fleet-and that seemed inevitable now-if anything happened to the troop transports, the expedition would be a total failure.

A brilliant flash lit up the viewing consoles.

"All right, there they go: the Ranger just got off the first salvo,"

Captain Luhar said calmly, as if the commencement of a major engagement were an everyday occurrence. "Torpedoes, I do believe. Now we'll see how well they work. Mark the time! All stations report." He listened carefully as each of the ships stations reported they were ready for battle. "Commander, it's up to you now. As soon as you're sure the enemy's fully engaged, you may send in the transports."

Anakin knew what he had to do. The nervous tension that had bothered him only a few minutes earlier was gone. In his mind he could see the attack plan unfolding. He thought of the thousands of troops in the transport ships, b.u.t.toned up in their landing craft, weapons and equipment at the ready, patiently waiting for launching to the planet's surface. The signal for the transports to advance into orbit would be the Neelian moving to a predetermined position. It was Anakin's responsibility to give the Nee/ians captain that order.

"Prepare my landing craft," he ordered. As soon as the transports were on the way, he would follow.

"Landing craft prepared," the boatswain replied immediately.

"All stand by," Captain Luhar ordered. "Commander, we wait on your command."

"Not yet. Not yet. Give me more magnification on the Ranger, please."

Nejaa Halcyon stood on the bridge of the Ranger, the slightest shadow of a smile on his lips. He stood easily, balanced on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, relaxed, in perfect control of himself. He was minutes-seconds-away from embarking on the most important mission of his life, but calm and confident in himself and the people around him. He was not troubled by thoughts of failure or death; if anything happened to him or the Ranger, Anakin was fully capable of leading the expedition. If he was to fall now he'd do it in the discharge of his duty and die an honorable man. The Ranger's energy screens were up, her crew were at their battle stations.

They were ready to engage the enemy at last.

"Commander, we are two minutes from initial point," the Ranger's commander, Captain Quegh, announced.

"Sir, General Halcyon?" It was the fleet intelligence officer. 'Please look on your screen. That bright blip at the center of the enemy's defensive formation is the jamming platform they've been using to cut us off from Coruscant."

"We got the blasted thing at last!" Quegh pounded the arm of his gravity couch.

Halcyon broke into a big grin. "Are you sure, Intel?"

"Positive, sir. That's her. She looks like a droid control ship, sir. The Separatists can afford technology we can't. Wish we had their resources."

Captain Quegh laughed outright "In less than a minute we're going to have their tails."

"Okay, Intel, good work, very good work. Captain, you have the target for your first salvo."

"Copy, sir. Gunnery officer, mark that target for proton torpedo salvo.