Altis knew that kind of love when he sensed it because his community was awash with it.
But he got that inevitable feeling that he should help because there was something else looming, something unhappy, but it was too vague to pin down. The whole messy storm of emotion was something he never came across in his own relaxed community. Skywalker might have found some peace there. Driving this underground would simply make it toxic, dangerous, ripe for distortion.
Yoda will not take kindly to you poaching his Jedi, even by accident. Find another way to help this lad.
“I’m always pleased to meet his friends, Master,” Skywalker said. Suddenly the present returned to normal time, a second passed. “Preferably in a more social setting, though. Shall we find some better transport and get off this planet?” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the fighting, eyes on the signs of a battle raging a kilometer or two east that was marked by palls of smoke and the hammering chatter of blasterfire. “They’re still landing battle droids and organics. That means they’ve got troop carriers touching down. And I’ve seen at least three CR-twenties.”
That seemed to mean something to Rex and the others. Altis felt the general mood lift.
“We should order some of those from the Corellians,” Coric said. “But let’s try before we buy.”
“A test drive would seal the deal, yes.” Skywalker smiled as if he was trying to strike a balance between being upbeat and acknowledging they’d lost a comrade. “Let’s go find a paint job we like. And tell me who you are because we’ve not met before, have we? Got any spare remotes for a quick recce?”
“Last one, sir,” Ince said. He handed the little self-propelling holocam to his general. “Trooper Ince.”
“Okay, Ince, and you?”
“Boro, sir.”
“Boro, you and Ince locate a CR-twenty for us, and we’ll plot a two-pronged assault to seize it.” Skywalker turned to the others. “Agent Devis, I assume? And …?”
“Jedi Callista Masana,” Callista said, “and this is my fiancé, Geith Ens.”
Oh … dear.
Skywalker’s face didn’t betray the massive flare of shock that Altis felt rise up in him. Only the clones wouldn’t have known how much the revelation wounded him.
I wish I weren’t right this time.
But Rex seemed to understand that perfectly well even without Force senses. Altis watched the chin piece of his helmet dip for a fraction of a second as if he’d shut his eyes and winced.
Skywalker just bowed his head politely, moving along the group that had gathered in the cover of the archway. “Ahsoka,” he said. “And you, troopers?”
“Hil, sir. He’s Ross; that’s Joc. Vere didn’t make it.”
“Then let’s do this for Vere. Make his sacrifice mean something.”
The group fell silent as Ince tossed the remote into the air with a flick of his wrist, as if he had a natural gift for wick-ball. It soared into the sky, a tiny and near-invisible sphere against the backdrop of smoke and chaos, and within moments it was sending back images of the battlefront within jogging distance of their position. Altis watched on his datapad. An assortment of transports disgorged droids and organic troops, then pulled back.
“CR-twenty …,” Ince said, apparently staring straight ahead. Altis could now visualize the welter of superimposed images, text, and symbols that the young clone was watching on his HUD. “Let’s see where it goes.”
Altis felt something a long way from JanFathal, a distant but distinctive surge of something brightly wonderful in the Force, and was distracted for a moment. His comlink chirped. He rushed to silence it despite the noise of blasterfire that would have drowned out anything less than a Gungan municipal band.
It was Ash Jarvee.
“We found Leveler, Master,” she said. “We hope to have her back with you soon.”
“What happened?”
“Technical problem. Got to go, in case they get a fix on you.”
“We’re going to commandeer transport and make another attempt to escape the planet.”
“Let’s not rely on that, Master. Ash out.”
The comlink went dead again. Rex looked around.
“My people have located Leveler,” Altis said. They all needed that boost, especially Hallena Devis. He wouldn’t let you down, my dear. Can’t you see the kind of man he is? He wouldn’t let anyone down. “She’s coming back.”
“Okay, that limits the time we have to ruin the Seps’ day, but let’s do what we can.” Skywalker stood up, seeming relieved by something other than the prospect of rescue. “Troopers, work your way to a position on this road bridge.” He held out his datapad to indicate the elevated section of road above a sports field where a number of troop transports had set down. “We’ll work around from the other direction onto the field itself, distract or divert any Seps, and seize the ship. You provide covering fire until we lift off, then we hover level with the bridge, and you embark. Got it?”
Rex nodded. Altis cut in. “I think at least one of us should go with the troopers,” he said. “Callista, will you do that for me? Hallena, you come with us. Are you feeling well enough for this?”
“It’s just a headache.” She brandished a DC-15 rifle. “And I can use this just fine. It’s not like I can sit here and wait, is it?”
All plans sounded simple. Then they were tested against reality. Altis regarded this as his watch, and he wanted no more casualties on it if he could help it. Callista simply nodded and darted off with Rex and his men, keeping close to the line of trees and bushes along the river.
Ahsoka darted to Skywalker’s side as if seeking refuge. She hadn’t said a word. She glanced at Geith, less wary this time, but she must have felt at least some of her Master’s discomfort. He was still shaken, and Altis could feel it.
“Okay, Snips?” Skywalker asked. “Never known you this quiet.”
“I’m fine, Master.”
“Let’s talk about it later,” he said. It was pretty clear what it was. “First things first.”
“What’s a CR-twenty got that’s so special, anyway?” Altis asked, following them. Hallena kept pace with him. “Hyperdrive, I assume.”
“Correct,” Skywalker said. “And unlike a Sep multitroop transport, it’s designed for organics, so we’ll have oxygen and all those little life-support luxuries that they don’t have on droid transports.”
“How are we going to coordinate this with Leveler? She’s trying to jump back here. We could be dragging her back to JanFathal for nothing if we can jump in the CR-twenty.”
“I’ll see if I can comm Pellaeon when we lift off. But we need to get clear of the planet first. We’re going to draw some serious fire. So if she gets back—we’ll probably need her.”
It paid never to look farther than the next impossible step you had to take, Altis thought. Steal a Sep transport. Avoid cannon fire. Get clear of the planet. Jump. Hope that Republic forces ask questions before shooting. Oh, and hope that Leveler doesn’t make a wasted journey only to find we’ve gone and she’s surrounded by angry Sep ships. That was war; it was one grim insurmountable obstacle after the next, never-ending.
“They’re all in basements,” Hallena said, as if she was talking to herself.
“Who are?”
“The civilians. The ones who weren’t involved in the uprising. Keeping their heads down and hoping it’ll all be over soon.”
The streets were deserted. That made it harder to move around: the Jedi were conspicuous simply by being on the street, not because they looked like Jedi. Only Skywalker was wearing the traditional brown robe, although he managed to make it look raffish by hitching it up on his belt.
It was the lightsabers that were the giveaway.
They reached the end of a row of buildings and were faced with an open expanse of highway between them and their next cover, a row of shops and offices. A couple of wrecked and burned-out speeders—possibly the local police patrols, judging by the remains of the pain
t—were still smoking in the middle of the road.
“I don’t sense any imminent danger,” Geith said.
Skywalker looked around. “Sprint or leap?” he said.
Hallena gave a little snort. “I’m stuck with sprinting, General …”
“Okay. One at a time—go!”
Altis ran for one of the wrecked speeders and dropped down behind it. When he looked up and peered over the top of the door to check whether the road was clear, he found himself face-to-face with a charred body, limbs drawn up as if it was huddling for warmth. The shock made him catch his breath. He shook off the brief horror, counted to three, and ran for the buildings. Geith, Ahsoka, and Skywalker were way ahead, nearing the far end of the street, but Hallena stuck with him.
“So, Jedi powers don’t quite run to instant cardiovascular fitness,” she said. “Welcome to the world of us lesser mortals.”
“Yes, but let us not forget that the appearance of age can work to our advantage.” She was right, though: he needed to stay fitter than this now that he’d drifted into the war. “Watch me do something that takes a young, fit Jedi a whole basket of mind tricks to achieve …”
They caught up with Skywalker at a speeder bus terminal opposite the sports field. The terminal’s roof had collapsed and the vehicles smoldered in neat rows, burned out where they were parked. Even from here, Altis could see potholes and craters of fresh soil in the expanse of turf facing them.
The good news was that he could see troop carriers, too.
“CR-twenty,” Skywalker said. “The dull gray thing that looks like a giant carpet cleaner with drives.”
“So we need to board that persuasively.” Altis could both see and sense organics among the battle droids. They were Neimoidian, and a couple of them wore data goggles. Pilots. “This is where old age and treachery trump youth and experience, my young general. Ahsoka? Come here, child.”
“I’d be happier if you explained your plan,” Skywalker said.
Altis squatted down to look at Ahsoka. Her eyes were wide and wary. She flinched when he took the scarf from around his neck and tried to put it over her head.
“Let’s cover your head-tails so you’re less conspicuously Togruta, and then you and I, a harmless scrap of a child and a senile old fool, will make our way across to the Neimoidians and beg for help because you’ve been injured in the shelling.”
She tolerated the new headgear. “And?”
“Then we addle their brains a little in the good old-fashioned Jedi way, cut down the droid sentries, and take the ship.” Altis looked at the others. “By that time, I expect you to be providing full backup.”
“Works for me,” Skywalker said. “Let’s make sure Rex and the squad are in position first.” He tapped his ear. “Remember to listen to your comlink.”
“Shouldn’t I be doing this?” Hallena cut in. “I’ve had enough of kids risking their lives for me. And dying.”
So that’s how she sees the clone troopers. There goes my comfortable stereotype of intel agents being amoral and coldblooded, exploiting anyone who’s of use to their mission.
Altis managed an avuncular smile by way of defusing the potential standoff. Hallena, even with a lump on her head, a swollen eye, and sagging with fatigue, looked like serious trouble. Ahsoka, who was equally capable of killing, just looked like an appealingly grubby waif in her filthy fatigues and makeshift scarf.
She was also a featherweight.
“Rex is ready, Master,” Skywalker said.
Here we go.
“I’m sure you’d be a formidable force, Agent Devis,” Altis said. “But trim as you are, I’m not going to carry your deadweight and make the enemy wonder why this old man can carry a big, strong girl like you.” He scooped Ahsoka up in both arms without warning. “But my unconscious granddaughter here—that they’ll buy. Long enough for me to draw my lightsaber, anyway …”
“But—” Ahsoka squeaked.
“Silence, Padawan,” he said. “You’re unconscious.”
Altis gathered himself for a moment, thought desperate, thought distraught, and then ran for the Separatists as if he were stumbling through his very last breaths to save a life.
SEPARATIST STAGING AREA, ATHAR
ANAKIN WAS GLAD THAT HE WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT. It took his mind off what was in danger of driving out every other thought from his brain.
Jedi. Jedi who allow marriage. Jedi who haven’t been turned to the dark side by attachment.
He’d heard vague stories about dissident Jedi who clung to the old, chaotic ways. He’d never met one. Now he had, and the simple reality encountered face-to-face left him winded and drowning in questions.
Part of him, the sharply conscious calculating mind, watched Altis make his way across the ruined sports field, a pathetic figure stumbling with a child in his arms. The other part of him … that felt resentful and betrayed, lied to, a disillusioned child who could no longer trust the grown-ups.
Get a grip.
The droids paused and watched, their stupid tin-bird heads bobbing and jerking, blasters held across their bodies, not on alert at all. The Neimoidian pilots stood still and let Altis make his way to them. He limped before them, tottering as if he was about to collapse.
“My little one!” he sobbed. Anakin could hear him from here. “Help her! Help her!”
Quite an actor. But he can’t act untouched by the dark side. That’s for real. I’d know. Callista and Geith, too. Why tell us these things about attachment when they’re clearly not true?
Anakin didn’t hear what the Neimoidian pilots said, but they were going to be the ones who needed help.
“Stand by,” Anakin said. “Rex?”
“We’ll take the Neimies first if we get a clear shot.”
Altis was in full wailing desperation now. “You want to help her!” he begged. Now, that was a new take on mind influence. But then Altis seemed to have a new take on everything that Anakin had been taught. “You want to get a closer look at her injuries …”
He laid Ahsoka on the grass. The droids had gathered around to watch, and the two Neimoidians leaned forward slightly to get a better look. She had one hand buried in the folds of her fatigues. Anakin felt the two Jedi tensed on the brink of explosive violence.
“Geith, Hallena—move out now.”
Anakin ran at a crouch for the CR-20, skirting around behind the ship to come at the ramp from underneath. Hallena and Geith stood on either side of the door, weapons ready.
Altis leaned over the huddled body of Ahsoka, weeping.
“My little girl! She’s dead!”
Then the two of them uncoiled like wires breaking under strain, lightsabers flashing, and the Neimoidians fell. Blue blasterfire from the clones on the road above rained down like a sheet to cut off more droids running to aid their comrades. By then, Ahsoka was chopping down the droid sentries and Altis was finishing off the stragglers. Anakin looked away. If they didn’t get caught in the crossfire—
Concentrate.
“We’ve got company inside,” Geith said.
“Then let’s get in and remove them.”
Hallena looked at the hatch locks. “Just remember this crate has to stay vacuum-tight.”
“Easy,” Anakin said, and put his hand on the locking mechanism. A little Force push, the merest touch to vibrate the lock at a certain frequency, and a little energy surge, also courtesy of the Force … Anakin visualized the internal locking mechanism in his mind and triggered the sequence of impulses until he found the right one. Air sighed from the ramp seal as the bay doors unlocked. It took seconds. It had been long enough, though, for Altis and Ahsoka to run to the ship under Rex’s covering fire.
“Three or four organics, and possibly lots of droids,” Altis said, panting. He crouched to the left of the ramp as it lowered. “I can feel a lot of electrical activity on board.”
“You can’t sense droids in the Force …” But Anakin knew as soon as he said it that Altis could do a wh
ole load of things he wasn’t supposed to. “You feel a disturbance.”
“I feel an electrical field and variations in it. It’s a useful skill to practice.”
Blasterfire from the bridge above the field still rained down on ranks of droids advancing across the field. Rex’s men and Callista were exposed, and it would be only minutes before Sep forces started showing up in serious strength, probably counterattacking from the air. Anakin held up his hand.
“Three—two—go!”
It wasn’t the way to storm a large vessel. They didn’t have time to do it right, simultaneous breaches from two or more positions. They just burst up the ramp into a storm of blasterfire, batting away energy bolts and cutting down everything that stood in their way. Hallena—unarmored, dependent on speed and a rifle—had no choice but to use the Jedi as cover. Anakin shoved her back behind him as she tried to push forward. The only cover was the stanchions that braced the deck and ran the full height of the bay to the deckhead.
“Up there,” he said, pointing to the gantry around the top of the loading bay. “Can you get to the emergency controls? The override pad with the yellow and black chevrons? Can you shut the bay doors behind us?”
“Watch me,” she said. “Better still—don’t.”
Adrenaline was a magical thing. Hallena seemed to find renewed energy as she darted for the ladder up to the gantry—a semicircle of sheet durasteel with rungs across the diameter. As she climbed, Altis and Ahsoka pursued three droids into a passageway off the bay. Anakin heard a hatch clang shut, followed by the buzzing and droning of lightsabers being used with a heavy hand. They were cutting the hatch open.
Anakin couldn’t follow because he was too busy dealing with a Quarren in a flight suit who had emerged from the starboard side. He leapt clear of the stanchion across the full width of the ramp to draw the Quarren’s fire from Hallena.
Once the ramp was raised and locked, the ship could take off. If there were still a few Seps on board to mop up—fine. The priority was to lift, grab Rex and the others, and run for it.
As he rushed the Quarren and lunged with his lightsaber, the bay darkened. He heard the high-pitched grinding of gears. The ramp was lifting double-speed; Hallena had reached the emergency control. The Quarren’s eyes—like spheres of glass at this angle, this close—shone with reflected blue light. Anakin brought the lightsaber up into his chest.
No Prisoners Page 15
