“They’ve released the ramship!” he exclaimed, just as the other swoop suddenly shot toward the massive vessel. Boba waited for a volley of fire from the ramship to destroy the swoop.
But the ramship didn’t alter its swift course one meter. Instead it sped upward, oblivious to Ulu Ulix pursuing it.
And why should that surprise Boba? The ramship had a drone-mind. Nothing could cause it to alter its course. Attempting to lure or attack it had obviously been a really, really bad idea.
That could have been me, Boba thought.
He watched grimly as Ulu’s swoop dipped and swerved clumsily. The alien was trying to avoid the barrage of fire from below. But his swoop didn’t seem to have any more thrust than Boba’s.
“Still, he could fly it better,” Boba said.
He clung tightly to his swoop, flying it closer still to the citadel’s black peak, and glanced back into the forest.
The convoy of AT-TEs had stopped at the very edge of the clearing. The speeders were gone, and the starfighter. Boba’s jaw clenched.
Glynn-Beti doesn’t even care that her Padawan is under fire. She’s too concerned that her own attempt to attack Wat Tambor’s citadel will be affected!
Typical Jedi arrogance, thought Boba angrily. He looked out to where Ulu Ulix’s swoop swung dizzily around the top of Mazariyan. With a sudden BOOM, the three-eyed alien’s vehicle was engulfed in black smoke. Sparks flew from it. There was a terrified cry.
And Boba watched in horror as a small figure tumbled into the air—and plummeted straight toward the waiting spines of Mazariyan!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Boba had no time to think. He yanked back on the throttle. At the same time he opened the stop to feed it as much fuel as possible. With a garbled roar, the swoop shot forward. Laser fire and explosions rocked the air around Boba. Below him, the spines waited.
“Master…help…!”
A cry echoed above the sound of laser fire. Boba leaned forward as far as he could, arms outstretched. His swoop raced toward the shining black pinnacle of Mazariyan. One huge, curved spine thrust upward. It positioned itself to impale the small form falling like a stone.
Boba’s swoop dipped as he reached out. With a groan, something heavy crashed onto the front of the swoop. Boba swerved away from Mazariyan.
“Th-thanks!” Ulu Ulix blinked. He kept a tight hold on the swoop’s fuel tank. His three large eyes stared gratefully at Boba. “I thought I was dead back there!”
“Well, there’s still a chance you might be!” Boba shouted over the thunder of crossfire. “Keep your head low—”
BLAM!
Laser fire ripped past them. Boba wrestled his blaster from his belt. He turned and fired in the general direction of the sentry droids. Then he glanced down. Battle droids were everywhere now. Some were still firing up at Boba. But most had bigger targets in their sights.
With a deafening rumble, the first of the AT-TEs had drawn up at the edge of the clearing. Its hold opened, and a wide gangway swung down. More than a dozen clone troopers came running out, blasters firing. There was the whoosh and roar of battle droids rushing from hidden entrances in the citadel. They marched in formation toward the Republic’s troops. Bolts of pure energy zoomed toward the clones. Wat Tambor’s fortress glowed like the sun as laser fire rippled up and down its sides.
Ulu Ulix’s three eyes widened as he stared at the carnage below.
“Wow,” he breathed.
The attack on Mazariyan had begun.
“Keep your head down!” Boba commanded. He abruptly swung the swoop to the left.
A blinding burst of energy exploded behind them. Boba cut back on the throttle. The swoop dropped sickeningly before he pulled it out of the dive.
He yelled, “We’ve got to get out of here, fast!”
“There!” gasped Ulu. He pointed to where another AT-TE waited. It was surrounded by a squad of heavily armed clone sentries. “General Glynn-Beti!”
Boba squinted through the thick smoke. “Where?”
“She’s standing by the transport—see? She should be in her speeder, keeping track of the battle. I guess she was worried about me. Boy, she looks really, really mad.”
Ulu Ulix gulped. Boba looked at him. He couldn’t help grinning inside his helmet. “Mad?”
“Yeah…the siege was ready to begin, anyway, but…”
The three-eyed alien looked back to where his swoop lay. It was now a heap of smoldering wreckage. It was surrounded by battle droids who were busy firing on the Republic’s troops.
“But maybe the siege started a little earlier than scheduled?” Boba finished Ulu’s sentence for him.
The alien nodded miserably. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Boba steered the swoop to where Glynn-Beti stood. He glanced at Ulu Ulix. It was weird to think that the horned alien didn’t recognize him in his helmet and body armor. Weird, but good.
I was more of a kid back then, Boba thought proudly. But now I’m a real bounty hunter.
The swoop approached the edge of the forest. The sentries guarding the AT-TE snapped to attention. They stared up at Boba. They raised their weapons. They were ready to fire—
“Get Glynn-Beti’s attention!” Boba shouted at Ulu Ulix over the roar of battle. “Other wise we’re dead!”
“Master!” yelled Ulu. “Master, here—!”
On the ground, Master Glynn-Beti looked up. She was small and slender, with a vaguely feline face crowned by flowing reddish hair. Even from this distance, Boba could sense the power she held.
A Jedi’s power.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Ulu Ulix!” The Jedi’s voice rang out sharply over the din. She sounded angry, but also relieved. She turned to the clone sentries. “Hold your fire!”
Boba angled the swoop down to within a few meters of the AT-TE. It landed with a bump. Ulu clambered off. He smoothed the folds of his Padawan’s robe. Then he looked at Boba.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” said the three-horned alien. “I don’t even know your name. Although there is something familiar about you….”
Ulu frowned slightly, thinking. Boba said nothing. He felt light-years older than Ulu. Light-years older than he had been when they first met.
Fortunately he didn’t need to say anything. Because General Glynn-Beti was bustling toward them now. And she looked like she had plenty to say.
“Ulu! What were you thinking?” She glared at the young alien. Ulu Ulix stared at his feet, abashed. “You put this entire mission in jeopardy!”
“I am sincerely sorry, Master,” Ulu said. “I am ashamed of my actions. But I only wanted to help.”
“Help?” Glynn-Beti scowled at him. Then she looked at Boba, still on his swoop. “This stranger is the one who helped!” The Jedi bowed slightly. “I am in your debt, stranger. My profound thanks for saving the life of this most foolish of Padawans.”
Boba nodded. “You’re welcome.” He was uncomfortably aware of Glynn-Beti’s keen gaze boring into him. But an instant later her attention was elsewhere.
“Trooper!” she commanded. “You may all resume your watch! As for you—” She turned to Ulu Ulix. “You will remain by my side for the rest of this maneuver. Unless you prefer to wait on board the troopship?”
Ulu Ulix shook his head swiftly. “No, Master! I will obey this time.”
“Good.” Glynn-Beti began to walk away. But she had only taken a few steps when she stopped. She turned and stared at Boba.
Uh-oh, he thought.
“What is your place in this battle, stranger?” she asked. Her voice was calm, but there was a threat hidden in it. “You are not part of my battalion. And you are obviously not working for our enemy. You have not come from there—” She tilted her head at the citadel of Mazariyan. When she turned back to Boba her gaze was piercing. “We have sent some of our most valued soldiers inside—ARC troopers. They seldom fail us. Not one has returned from that place. Have you?”
Boba hes
itated. The Jedi might be able to detect a lie. If she did, she could take him prisoner, whether or not he had saved her Padawan. At worst, he might languish in a Republic cell. At best, she could send him off-planet, back to Tatooine—where he would face the rage of Jabba the Hutt.
A prison cell might be preferable to that.
Boba stared back at Glynn-Beti. He was very glad she could not see his face behind his helmet.
“No. My sympathy lies with the Xamsters,” he said.
The Jedi seemed to mull this over. Finally she nodded. “very well. I will not detain you. The natives of Xagobah are in dire need of whatever help they are given.” She beckoned Ulu Ulix to her side. “Come. We have much to do.”
“But Master—” Ulu stopped. He gazed up at a dark blur in the violet haze of Xagobah’s atmosphere. “What about the ramship?”
“We are well aware of the ramship, Ulu. Someone more experienced—and wiser—than you will deal with it.”
Ouch! thought Boba. Wonder who that might be?
He watched as the Jedi and her Padawan headed back toward the AT-TE.
Just before they boarded the AT-TE, Glynn-Beti turned and shouted back to Boba, “Yes. Someone else will take care of the ramship. You, stranger, might want to launch your solitary attack at that moment. Mind my words!” The Jedi Master then disappeared from view.
Boba quickly powered up his borrowed swoop. It gave a hoarse cough and sputtered into the air.
Boba circled back to where the siege was in full swing. The air blazed blue and black and silver with laser fire. Everywhere around the fortress, clone troopers were attacking Wat Tambor’s droid forces. What did the Jedi mean? he wondered.
It looked like the Republic was in trouble.
The Separatists had launched a counterattack! “This isn’t good,” Boba muttered. “Not for me, at least!”
Boba had thought that Wat Tambor’s citadel was well-guarded before. Now he realized the canny Separatist had deliberately hidden the full power of his forces. Because suddenly the gaping maw of Mazariyan yawned open. There was a horrible, thunderous clattering sound, and hundreds—maybe thousands—of droids came streaming from the fortress. Spider droids, super battle droids, even dreaded and lethal droidekas, like gigantic insects rolling out of a rotten stump.
Boba gaze down at them, transfixed. “How am I going to get through that and into the fortress? There’s no way I can land without being seen and pulverized!”
He steered the swoop down for a closer look.
Too close.
With a grinding noise, one of the droideikas came to an abrupt halt. It swiveled and uncurled into firing position, its black, eyeless head pointed straight up—directly at Boba.
It fired.
“Aghhh!”
Too late, Boba yanked at the swoop’s controls. A blast of heat struck the swoop. At the same instant, Boba dove from it. He could feel the surge of fire through his protective boots. He could hear the concussive blast roaring through the air like a seismic charge.
But all he could see was the explosion of laser fire all around him as he plummeted helplessly—right into the battle.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Ummmpph!” With a grunt Boba smashed onto the ground. His body armor absorbed the blow, but it took him a moment to catch his breath. There was such a thick haze of smoke and spores he could barely see. He blinked, trying to clear his vision.
What he was able to make out was not good: a clone trooper, just millimeters from his face!
“No way!” yelled Boba. He rolled onto his back and kicked out, just as the clone took aim. Boba’s feet connected with the clone’s knees. He wasn’t strong enough to knock down the trooper. But Boba did throw him off balance.
And that was all it took. Boba was on his feet again, blaster raised. The clone towered above him, its face invisible behind its helmet. But something in the way it stood, something in the way it held its blaster, made Boba hesitate.
Because, just for a flickering moment, it wasn’t a clone trooper there.
It was Jango Fett—Boba’s father.
Boba recognized Jango’s stance. He recognized Jango’s strength. He even recognized the way Jango’s head drew back slightly as he aimed his weapon. Only this wasn’t Jango Fett. This was a clone trooper who had decided that Boba was an enemy.
“You’re not my father!” Boba’s voice was drowned in the blast from his Westar. “You’re a clone!”
The trooper’s aim was excellent—but Boba’s was better. In a blaze of flame and vapor, the clone trooper fell.
One down! thought Boba. Only a couple thousand to go.
He whirled, and found himself smack in the middle of the battle about 200 meters from the citadel walls. Above him, droid fighters shot from the citadel’s peak. Battle droids swarmed around its base, blasting away. Clone troopers ran in formation. As they neared the fortress, the formation broke up. Individual troopers raced toward the battle droids. One clone got caught by a hailfire missile and vanished into a thousand pieces.
Yuck! thought Boba. He looked away quickly.
BARRAAAMMM!
Brilliant multicolored pulses of laser fire erupted from the clones’ blaster rifles. All were now aimed at the rolling, firing hailfire.
KRRRAARRROW!
A direct hit! One of the hailfire’s wheels disengaged and the clone’s body was dragged into the ground by the still churning second wheel. A few moments later it exploded in a fiery blast.
But the Republic’s troops were still in danger. They were vastly outnumbered, for starters. And somewhere above them, the ramship was headed for their assault ship.
That was bad enough. But what was worse—the droidekas were laying waste to the clones. They rolled across the battlefield, safe within their shimmering forcefields. Laser fire bounced from them harmlessly. Harmless for the droidekas, anyway. Some of the pulses ricocheted back and mowed down the very troopers who had fired them.
With a cry Boba dodged a sudden flare of blue. A super battle droid stalked toward him, took aim and—
BLAAM!
Boba fired. The upper half of the droid disintegrated into shards of flaming plasteel. Boba whirled and blasted another droid. It fell. Boba staggered backward, struggling for breath.
I can’t keep up with them, he thought desperately. There’s too many! The droids are fighting the clone troopers. The troopers are fighting the droids—
And they’re all firing at me!
Around him was chaos. Black smoke mingled with clouds of purple spores from malvil-trees and giant mushrooms caught in the crossfire. Boba adjusted his helmet, striving to see through the haze. Xeran’s powder is wearing off, he thought with dismay. The Republic’s getting wasted. Not that he cared about the Republic. But if Wat Tambor was powerful enough to destroy them, what chance did Boba have?
Plenty, Boba thought grimly. I’m not giving up.
A sudden roar made him look up. For a split second, every battle droid paused. As though they shared one mind, they all looked up, too.
“Starfighters!” cried Boba.
A phalanx of starfighters arrowed through the haze. Wat Tambor’s air defenses fired at them in a blaze of blinding energy. The starfighters’ leader banked sharply to the right. Boba stared up at it, admiringly.
“He sure knows what he’s doing.” He thought of Ulu Ulix, and smiled. Then he adjusted his helmet’s focus as he took cover behind a wrecked vehicle. “Let’s get a better look at this guy…”
But now the battle droids had also seen the fighter. A barrage of ground fire shot up toward it. The starfighter dove. Pulses exploded in the empty air as the ship raced downward through the flak generated by the citadel’s air defenses. It made a lightning pass at the heads of the droids, decapitating dozens as it flew incredibly low. It was so close to the ground that Boba could see who was piloting it.
“Skywalker!” Boba felt a spike of excitement. He had seen Anakin Skywalker from a distance in the arena of Geonosis.
The young Padawan was older now, but Boba recognized Anakin’s defiant gaze—and his skill. “He can really fly that thing!”
Anakin’s starfighter pulled up once more. A blaze of Separatist fire sparked around it. Then, without hesitating, the ship went into another dive. It came in low, pulling up at the last moment as it lobbed an energy charge at the citadel.
KARRROOOM!
The charge exploded. Flaming spikes of durasteel flew everywhere. A raw smoldering hole appeared in the citadel’s side.
“Yes!” said Boba.
Wish I could do that! Boba thought as another spasm of flame arced by him. Boba jumped, then ran through a throng of clones. He was now using all the skills he’d acquired as a bounty hunter. His blaster fired without pause. Droids exploded in orange sparks—and clones fell left and right, as he fought his way toward the fortress.
This time, Boba didn’t feel bad at all.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Near the foot of Wat Tambor’s citadel, a homing spider droid had fallen. Its large form slumped over on two of its legs, forming a small, protected area.
Boba headed for this makeshift refuge. He had to leap over several dead clones, and the smoking wreckage of a swoop. But once in the shadow of the droid he was safe. For a few moments, anyway.
Now what?
Boba crouched, panting, and stared out at the battlefield. The clone trooper reinforcements were holding their own against the Separatists, but were unable to advance. Boba doubted they’d be able to defeat Wat Tambor’s forces. The clones were organic and could be killed. And they were being killed in great numbers. The droids couldn’t regenerate, but there seemed to be an endless supply of them streaming from the citadel’s mouth.
But could it really be endless? Surely even Wat Tambor’s army had a limit?
Boba peered out from the crook of the fallen droid’s elbow. Far above him, Anakin Skywalker’s starfighter led the Jedi forces in the air attack. They were targeting the spider droids.
As Boba watched, he saw another hailfire come spinning out of the shadows of the malvil-trees. It rolled toward the center of the battlefield, scattering clones like leaves. It stopped. It raised its missile launcher, taking aim at one of the starfighters. With a deafening burst of energy, a barrage of plasma pulses went soaring upward—directly toward Anakin Skywalker’s yellow starfighter.
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