A New Dawn: Star Wars

by John Jackson Miller

  Things went quietly for a minute, until the stormtroopers below tripped to where the intruders were. Then it was open season on the rafters, with blaster shots deflecting off the girders, the ceiling—even a few off the tramcar itself. Passing control of the vehicle to Zaluna, Hera and Kanan fired back, but the targets were too small and numerous. And they hadn’t even traveled halfway across the factory floor.

  “We’ve got to do something before they bring out the heavy artillery,” Hera said.

  Kanan nudged her. “Check that out!” He pointed down and ahead to enormous cylinders on the factory floor, made of some kind of special clear composite. Inside was liquid, a shocking green in color. “Xenoboric acid—like in Lal’s factory!” It made sense: This was a thorilide refinery, after all. Kanan and Hera looked at each other, shrugged simultaneously, and then turned their weapons on the nearest vat.

  Multiple blaster shots struck the container at the same place. A sick groan later, the protective material gave way, releasing a fountain of acid. A stricken stormtrooper dropped his weapon and howled so loudly they heard it near the ceiling. The vat’s structure failed completely then, unloosing a gusher onto the floor. Now all the stormtroopers were on the move, rushing to alcoves to escape the effluent and throw off their boots and affected armor.

  Kanan and Hera targeted another vat, and then another, as the tramcar advanced. The trick was clearing their way better than any army. He grinned at Hera, hoping to see her smile in return.

  Instead, he saw her grimace as the tramcar ground to a halt. Hera moved to Zaluna’s side and punched futilely at the control buttons. “That’s it for the free ride,” she said. “Someone knows we’re here.”

  “I would think those guys,” Kanan said, pointing down. Laser shots were striking the ceiling again, but with less accuracy than before: The shooters were all huddled on top of control consoles and other equipment, avoiding the acid flow. He looked at the tramcar’s control panel. “I guess I can rewire this thing.”

  “I know I can,” Hera said, scrambling over the side. “You keep shooting! We’re running out of time!”

  Kanan turned to do exactly that—when Zaluna poked him. She pointed above, to where the frame of the tramcar track connected with the ceiling. A row of girders ran the length of the line, offering a small, protected crawl space above. But Kanan realized it would be a long hands-and-knees scramble—and it would take someone small and athletic to get up there.

  “I don’t think I could make it up there,” Zaluna said. “But one of you could go.”

  “We don’t know how to access the global communications systems you talked about,” Hera said.

  “Wait a minute,” Kanan said, getting an idea. “Hera, get back in!”

  As she did so, he put down his blaster and reached for the rappelling gun. Anchoring his legs behind the dashboard, he leaned out and fired at one of the horizontal supports, far ahead. The hook snapped taut, and the motorized winder groaned into action. The current might have been cut from the track, but the tramcar still moved along it—if slowly.

  “We’re too heavy,” Hera said. She looked up to a debarkation area, far ahead. “All three of us will take forever. I’ll take the upstairs route.”

  Zaluna looked at her, face fraught. “Hera, I don’t think you should go alone.”

  “And you shouldn’t, either,” Hera said. “Kanan, make sure she gets there. Get that warning message out!” She climbed onto the side of the car and leapt. Nimbly grabbing the side of one of the supports, she twisted her body around and disappeared into the small horizontal space, safe from the stormtroopers’ shots.

  The cable rewound, Kanan released the hook and prepared to fire again. Zaluna, looking up in vain to catch any sight of the scrambling Hera, shook her head. “We’re going to have to send the message while Vidian’s in the room, aren’t we?”

  “You’ve come this far, Zal. The hard part’s over.” Kanan grinned and fired the grapple. His Jedi teachers had warned him about lying to his elders, but he figured this time it was for a good cause.

  “Forager reports being boarded,” an ensign called from a terminal. “Incursion force small. Three, maybe four.”

  “Stand by.” Captain Sloane walked to the junior officer’s station and looked over her shoulder. Ultimatum was receiving some security feeds from the collection ship, but it was difficult to see much. For a moment, she thought she caught a glimpse of a running Twi’lek—and then she definitely spotted the arrogant space jockey.

  She shook her head. “Is Forager asking for help?”

  “No, Captain. Count Vidian is continuing the countdown, waiting for the final injection site to finish its work.”

  Sloane nodded. Vidian had his own stormtroopers and personal guards over there. It would be unlikely he would need assistance. Still, it was difficult just sitting here, not knowing what to do. It was times like this when she missed being a junior officer herself, having someone around with the answers—

  “Captain!”

  Sloane turned to see Commander Chamas rushing onto the bridge toward her. “What is it?”

  Chamas looked pale. “We have a priority-one message for you.”

  Sloane stopped. “From the Admiralty?”

  “No,” the commander said, breathless. “From the Emperor.”

  The captain’s eyes bulged. “I’ll take it in my ready room.” She was already to the door by the time she finished the sentence.

  Commander Chamas appeared in hologram, speaking to the Forager command crew. “Your linkup to Detonation Control is live, Count Vidian. We read ten minutes until the last charges are implanted.”

  “I see it.” Vidian was already watching the progress at the last injection site. “The delays that fool freighter caused weren’t fatal.”

  He was still aggravated by the failure of Ultimatum’s fighters to stop the renegade, but the ship crash-landing on Forager hadn’t cost him much. The infiltrators had found a way around his stormtroopers, but he had shut down the tramcar line. They’d damaged the refinery area, true—but he had many other harvester vessels on the way.

  He looked up at the hologram. “Where is Sloane?”

  “The captain is … indisposed.” Chamas seemed agitated.

  “She’ll miss the show.”

  “Do you require assistance against—”

  “No. Forager out.” Vidian cut the transmission, and Chamas disappeared. The cyborg had never had any use for the man, and didn’t want to talk to him any more than necessary. Not now, in his moment of success.

  The sounds of blasterfire came from the southern hallway, one of three portals on the ground floor leading into the command center. Vidian switched to the security cam feed from the hallway and saw nothing unusual at all—just his stormtroopers standing guard. But something was wrong with the image. It was frozen, the soldiers halted mid-movement like statues—even as the sentries in the room with Vidian were firing through the southern door. They saw something he couldn’t.

  “Lower the security doors on the command floor level!”

  Heavy barriers slowly descended from the door frames in the three large entryways. Still shooting at whoever was in the hallway, one of the stormtroopers charged the exit, moving to get through it before the door sealed. But a blaster shot caught him in mid-stride, and he fell on his side. The massive door came down on the soldier’s collarbone. It stopped there, leaving a half-meter-high space between the bottom of the door and the floor beneath.

  Vidian heard the blasterfire cease. The opening was too small for the attacker to easily exploit, whoever he was. He checked the cam feed again. It was still on the guards standing around motionless, and the door was still open in the image. “Someone’s been interfering with what I can see.”

  A pinging noise came from his command console. A critical moment had passed: The very last set of baradium charges were being loaded onto the derrick for descent into Cynda’s deep interior. He couldn’t afford any more distractions. There
weren’t blast doors at the entrances on the upper level of his chamber, but he could place his remaining sentries up there. On his command, the stormtroopers dashed up the steps to the catwalks. That left one route into the room, by which he might root out his real enemy once and for all.

  He turned to the command console, his back to the main door. This would be a simple matter.

  Kanan stood on guard amid the fallen stormtrooper bodies. They’d beaten Hera here, as he expected, but there was no good way to sneak up on stormtroopers on alert. Now there was at least a way into Vidian’s chamber—for one of them. “Ready?”

  Looking at the fallen troopers, Zaluna shuddered. “I don’t know.”

  “You knew you’d have to do this alone, didn’t you? We can’t both sneak in.”

  “I didn’t think we’d get this far.” Zaluna put the widget back in her pouch. They’d needed to defeat the surveillance cams on their approach, as on Calcoraan Depot, but the trick didn’t work as well when anyone was in the frame. There was no way around that now. “Are you sure you don’t want a tutorial on slicing Imperial communication systems?”

  “I would if I could,” Kanan said. He could hear more troops running in the hall, searching for them. “We’re out of time.”

  “It happens.”

  The stormtroopers were closing in. Kanan knelt, protecting the doorway in front of her. “I’m sorry you have to do this, Zaluna. You never asked for any of this.”

  “Neither did you,” she said, securing her pouch. “You’re a decent person, Kanan, no matter what show you put on for the world. You keep being that way.”

  With a dutiful salute, Zaluna got down on all fours and peeked beneath the blast door propped up by the body of the unfortunate stormtrooper. She looked back and whispered, “All cyborgs, all the time. It’ll be just like evading cams.” Then she shimmied under the door.

  The room was frighteningly large, with lots of computer consoles about. More places to hide. Zaluna crawled behind one. Vidian’s cybernetic assistants were here and there, but their minds appeared to be on their work.

  Zaluna quietly moved from one workstation to another, hoping the artificial ears in the room couldn’t hear her joints cracking or her heart pounding. It’s just like working my way across the floor of that cantina the other day, she told herself. It wasn’t, but thinking it helped.

  Finally, she found a console near the eastern wall that looked to have a connection to the comm system—and a nice little nook behind, where she could tap in and send her warning.

  Text would have to do. She’d prewritten it on the tramcar ride: “People of Gorse, beware …” She would send it and hope for the best.

  She was about to connect to the port when a voice came from overhead. “And here’s our rodent.”

  Grabbed by the back of her shirt, Zaluna was yanked upward and outward. Spun about, she saw the moon outside the windows. She saw stormtroopers running down the metal steps to the main floor. And now she looked directly into the terrifying eyes of Count Vidian.

  He shook the woman violently. Her bag fell open, spilling forth her blaster and all her devices. Vidian surveyed the instruments. “So they brought a slicer. I knew there was someone else.” His other hand on Zaluna’s collar, he brought her back face-to-face with him. “If you know about surveillance cams, you should have remembered something else: You don’t always know where they are.”

  He turned and hurled her across the room.

  In the middle of firing at oncoming stormtroopers outside the doorway, Kanan heard Zaluna’s cry.

  The gambit had failed. Kanan shot and shot again, putting his last attackers on the deck. Holstering his blaster, he turned to the door. It had descended farther since Zaluna had gone underneath it: The servos were grinding away, trying vainly to push through the armored obstacle.

  Kanan placed his hands along the underside of the blast door and heaved upward. His muscles screamed, fighting against both the heavy door and the mechanism holding it in place. Metal groaned, and then something snapped. He forced the door up half a meter from where it had been—where it would go no farther. It was enough. He slid his legs beneath it and rolled, even as the door began to move again.

  Righting himself, he saw the count stalking toward Zaluna’s motionless body. Kanan stood. “Vidian!”

  A stormtrooper charged at Kanan from the left side of the door, his blaster raised. Kanan moved like lightning, grabbing the rifle by its barrel and shoving. The soldier stumbled backward, allowing him to wrest the weapon free. Another trooper came toward him, from behind. Kanan spun, smacking his attacker in the side of the helmet with the weapon.

  Vidian charged. Kanan turned the stormtrooper’s rifle around. Three blaster shots slammed point-blank into Vidian’s body, searing his tunic. Kanan knew that wouldn’t stop him—but he had to get the man away from Zaluna. Vidian charged, grabbing for the barrel of the blaster rifle. He ripped it away and shattered it in his bare metal hands.

  “Hurry up,” the count said, unruffled. “I have a schedule to keep.”

  Kanan moved his hand to his holster before changing his mind. He’d learned something from their first fight. Instead, he dived to the side as Vidian lunged, hitting the ground long enough to leap again—onto Vidian’s back.

  Enraged, Vidian clawed at him, raking at Kanan’s clothing. His heels digging into the cyborg’s metal hips, Kanan wrapped his arms around the back of Vidian’s neck and hung on for dear life.

  Hera darted from hall to hall, careful to avoid stormtrooper details. They were numerous in this end of Forager—and apparently much exercised by her friends’ earlier infiltration.

  Kanan’s been here, all right, she thought, peering around the corner at the bodies of stunned troopers. Other stormtroopers were tending to their companions and helping to defend their station. She wouldn’t be able to follow the path Kanan had taken.

  Opening a portal leading off the main hall, she stepped into a storage area full of equipment—and loading vehicles, all unattended. There were even several hovercarts like the one Kanan used on Cynda.

  A power forklift caught her eye. A heavy-duty repulsorcraft, narrow enough to navigate hallways—with a cab that offered some degree of protection from attackers ahead.

  Hera grinned. Driving loading equipment was Kanan’s trade, but she’d show him what she could do.

  Zaluna awoke to a nightmare. The sound had reached her first—Vidian stumbling about, driving his back into consoles and walls as he tried to dislodge Kanan. Horrific squawks came from Vidian’s speakers as electronic circuits tried to express his animal rage.

  And yet Kanan kept moving, shifting his hold every time Vidian came close to dislodging him. From headlock to arms around the cyborg’s shoulders to a headlock again, the younger man squirmed in response to the count’s every move.

  Zaluna forced herself to sit up. Her leg hurt horribly where she’d landed—but the only stormtroopers here were on the floor. Vidian’s cybernetic assistants milled about near the walls, looking on as the pair wreaked havoc on their work space. Vidian staggered past again with Kanan, nearly stepping on her. She rolled—

  —and saw her pistol, on the floor where she’d dropped it. Vidian had a handhold on Kanan’s left ankle now, she saw. She had to help her friend. Zaluna dived for the blaster and rose to face the count.

  “Zal, no!” Kanan yelled.

  Vidian swept forward, releasing his hold on Kanan and reaching for her blaster. She tried to fire—but he had hold of the barrel now. He squeezed. Zaluna saw a flash brighter than lightning as the blaster’s energy pack discharged in their faces. She fell backward—and saw no more.

  The flash subsided. Kanan, who had remembered what happened when blaster shots struck Vidian, had leapt clear an instant before the flash occurred. His eyes adjusting to the light, Kanan saw Zaluna collapse. “No!”

  Vidian staggered, holding his face in his hands. Kanan quickly surmised the man had overestimated his ability to shake off e
nergy attacks. Blaster bolts were one thing; power packs exploding point-blank were something else. Kanan scrambled past him to Zaluna’s side. The woman was still breathing, he saw, but her face was burned.

  So, he now saw, was Vidian’s. Recovered, the cyborg had pulled his hands away from his face. His synthskin facial coating was charred and melted, revealing the metal man beneath. He straightened and stared down the pair.

  “This ends now, gunslinger. Draw your weapon.”

  Kanan was about to—when he heard something else: blasterfire echoing through the huge chamber. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Looking around, Vidian acted as if he couldn’t figure that out, either—nor could he identify the gruesome, grinding sound that accompanied it.

  Then everyone saw it: a massive hover-forklift powering its way through one of the upper doorways onto the catwalk above. Two hapless stormtroopers had already been collected by its massive arms—and a third, caught by surprise, tumbled backward over the railing to the command center floor.

  The vehicle kept on going, smashing through the catwalk barrier. Vidian, astonished at the new arrival from above, dived to the side—even as Kanan moved to protect Zaluna. With a deafening crash, the forklift and its pinned troopers slammed onto the floor between the infiltrators and Vidian. The lifting arms snapped violently off, one nearly taking out the count’s shins.

  Hera clambered out of the cab. Vidian looked at her in amazement. “You!”

  “That’s the trick with surveillance cams, Count. You can’t watch all of them at once.” She drew her blasters.

  Vidian started to claw his way up the pile of wreckage toward her. “You should have tried to run me down. You know your blasters won’t hurt me.”

  “No, but this might.” Hera turned and aimed each one at a different tall viewport. “These viewports aren’t magnetically shielded—and these blasters are set on full power. I can decompress this whole compartment. If you make a move on my friends—or try to give the detonation command—you’ll have a whole new address!”