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Hero of Cartao 3. Hero's End

Page 2

by Timothy Zahn


  "What if we lower our expectations a little?" Tories suggested.

  "Instead of defeating the Separatists, how about if we just get Roshton and his people out?"

  "Leaving the place open for the Separatists to move in?" The lieutenant shook his head. "I'm sorry, but our mission parameters were very specific on that point."

  "Then you condemn those troops and civilians in there to death," Binalie shot back, starting to sound angry. "Roshton won't surrender - he's too stubborn for anything that sensible. Do your mission parameters have anything to say about that!"

  "We understand your orders, Lieutenant," Tories said, throwing Binalie a warning look. "But what if the Separatists didn't know Roshton's people had escaped?"

  The other's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

  "I'm sure you came here equipped with a map of the area," Tories said.

  "Do you remember how Spaarti Creations is laid out? A central manufacturing plant, plus three underground Outlinks two to five kilometers away for storage and product transfer?"

  "All of them connected to the main plant via underground tunnels,"

  Laytron said, nodding. "Unfortunately, the Separatists have the same maps we do. They've got the Outlinks and their tunnels covered."

  "Actually," Tories said, "they don't."

  He lifted his eyebrows at Binalie. The other still wasn't happy about this, Tories could tell, but he'd made up his mind to go through with it. 'The fact is, Lieutenant, that the maps are wrong," Binalie said. "We've actually built a fourth Outlink, west and a little south of the plant and about two kilometers away. It's not quite ready yet, which is why it's not on any of the official maps. But the Outlink structure itself is built."

  "More to the point, so is the connecting tunnel," Tories said "The only thing missing is the opening into the main complex itself."

  "Which a lightsaber-equipped Jedi could easily remedy," Laytron said, sounding thoughtful.

  "Exactly," Tories agreed. "If you can stage some kind of diversion to draw the roving patrols away from that part of the grounds, I should be able to slip in and get Roshton's people out without the Separatists being any the wiser."

  "Interesting idea," Laytron agreed. "You have any particular diversion in mind?"

  "We were hoping you could come up with something," Tories said.

  "I'm sure you have a better grasp of the military situation than either of us do."

  "Well, there's one obvious possibility," Laytron said. "With their control ship destroyed, they have to be running their droid army off the secondary control matrix they brought down here with them. If we threaten that, they'll have no choice but to respond."

  "Good idea," Binalie grunted. "Question is, where is it?"

  "It's not in one of the battle tanks or MTT transports," Laytron said.

  'There's only so much miniaturization you can do with something like that. It therefore has to be in one of the landing ships."

  "Unless it's not even in this area," Binalie pointed out. "There are about a million square kilometers of empty space out there where they could have hidden it."

  "No," Laytron said, shaking his head. 'There's no combat droid presence anywhere else on the planet, at least nothing serious. Neimoidians aren't nearly daring enough to leave something that important lying around without a full defense screen around it. No, it's definitely in one of the landing ships. Question is, which one?"

  An image flashed back to Tories' memory: hurrying through the darkness across the plant rooftop, noticing the STAPs circling the first landing ship that had put down by the plant's west door. "It's in the first one," he said.

  'The one sitting right beside the plant."

  "How do you know?" Laytron asked, frowning.

  "It was under heavy guard during the battle last night," Tories told him.

  "If the Neimoidians are as nervous as you say, they'd certainly want it where their ground forces can protect it at the same time they're protecting the plant."

  "Besides, the plant's the one place on Cartao both sides are intent on protecting," Binalie agreed. "I think Jedi Tories is right."

  "I suppose," Laytron said doubtfully. 'That's going to make for a much trickier diversion, though. The Outlink isn't all that far from the siege line around the plant, and from what you said it sounds like the tunnel passes almost directly beneath the landing ship."

  "Are you saying there's no way to do it?" Binalie asked. Laytron smiled tightly. "Not at all," he said. "When did you want to start this operation?"

  "As soon as possible," Tories said. "It would be nice to get to them while they still have the strength to walk out under their own power."

  "Fine," Laytron said, waving over one of the clone troopers."This afternoon, just before sundown, then. I suggest, Master Tories, that you be ready."

  "Master Tories?" Corf's voice called softly. "It's time."

  Tories blinked his eyes open, letting the Jedi meditation trance fade away into the corners of his mind. Corf was standing over his cot, a pinched look on his face. 'Thank you, Corf," Tories said, yawning and stretching his arms and hands. "Where's your father?"

  "He left with Master Doriana and that Republic lieutenant about an hour ago," Corf said. "Dad said you were supposed to meet him at Outlink Four."

  "I know," Tories said, glancing at his chrono. Still early. Plenty of time for a nice casual stroll through the woods west of Spaarti Creations.

  "How are you holding up?"

  The boy shrugged. "Okay, I guess," he said. "A little worried." "No need for that," Tories assured him. "I'll make sure your father stays clear of the fighting."

  "I know," Corf said. "Dad promised me that, too. I'm mostly worried about you."

  "I'll be fine," Tories said, smiling. "I'm a Jedi, remember?" "Oh, that's right," Corf said. He tried to smile in return, but his heart clearly wasn't in it. "I forget sometimes."

  "Well, don't," Tories admonished him lightly as he tucked his lightsaber inside his robes. "Stay out of sight and trouble, and I'll see you later."

  "Okay," Corf said; and to Tories' surprise, he stepped forward and gave the Jedi a quick hug. "Be careful."

  Tories had spent part of the day wondering about Laytron's seemingly casual choice of timing for the operation. It was only as he slipped off the Binalie estate and made his way westward through the edge of Foulahn City that he realized the timing hadn't been nearly as random as he'd first thought. At sunset, most of the enemy forces surrounding Spaarti would have to face directly into the setting sun to see Roshton's quiet exit from Outlink Four.

  Even droid optical sensors had trouble with direct sunlight, and Tories'

  estimation of the young lieutenant had gone up as he realized the young man had taken that weakness into account.

  Twice along the way, Tories had to take quick cover as a pair of droids on wide picket marched past. But he'd planned for possible delays when he'd scheduled his wake-up call, and he reached the flat, sod-covered roof of Outlink Four with time to spare.

  Binalie was waiting beneath a cluster of trees, along with a pair of armored clone troopers. "Master Tories," Binalie greeted the Jedi, his voice and sense tight with nervous anticipation.

  "Anyone see you?"

  "No one shot at me, anyway," Tories told him, eyeing the camouflaged roof. "We aren't going to have to raise the whole roof to get in, are we?"

  Binalie shook his head. 'There's a service stairway along the side."

  "Then let's get to it," Tories said, peering into the sky. A dozen STAPs were circling in the east, patrolling the sky over the plant and the landing ship beside it.

  "Shouldn't we wait for the diversion to start?" Binalie asked.

  "We can't afford to," Tories said. "We'll need every bit of diversion time just to move all those people out of the plant."

  "You're right." Binalie took a deep breath, and set off across the open ground. "Follow me."

  The section of roof over the service stairway swung open with gratifying spe
ed and silence. Binalie led the way down the steps, then waited at the bottom for the others to catch up before using the small control panel attached to the railing to seal the top again. "All the wiring is in place," he said as he flicked on a pair of glow rods and handed one to Tories. "But I thought running any power in here, even just enough to handle the lights, might be risky."

  "Good point," Tories agreed, turning to the clone troopers. "You two stay here and guard the exit," he ordered.

  "Acknowledged," one of them said.

  Tories nodded, and he and Binalie set off at a quick jog down the empty tunnel. Ten minutes later, they reached the other end.

  "There should be a set of pumps right here, and the intake for the tunnel's ventilator system about here," Binalie said, pointing out spots to the left and right of the wall. "It would make this operation a whole lot cheaper if you could manage to miss both of them."

  "I'll do my best," Tories said, igniting his lightsaber. Pushing the tip of the blade carefully through the center of Binalie's indicated safe zone, he began to cut.

  A minute later had carved a man-sized rectangle. Closing down the lightsaber, he stretched out with the Force and deftly pulled away the halfmeter- thick section of wall.

  To find himself gazing down the muzzles of a half dozen blaster rifles.

  "Commander Roshton?" he called.

  The muzzles instantly lifted. "About time," Roshton said, stepping into view in front of his troops, a grim look on his face. He was equipped for action, Tories noted, wearing his usual clone trooper comlink headset and a pair of bolstered blasters on his belt.. "I was starting to wonder if you'd been caught."

  "What are you talking about?" Binalie asked. "We're right on time."

  "You're two minutes late," Roshton corrected tartly. "If Lieutenant Laytron is on schedule, the diversion will be starting in fourteen minutes. We want to be already moving people out the other end of the tunnel by then."

  "Then we'd better get started," Tories said. "Your people ready to move?"

  In answer, Roshton lifted a hand. The clone troopers who'd been pointing their rifles at Tories lifted the weapons into carry position across their chests and passed single-file through the newly made opening. Reforming into ranks of three, they set off down the tunnel at a quick jog. They were followed by another squad of six, and another, and another. "What about the techs?" Tories asked as the fifth batch of troopers jogged past him.

  "When will they be coming through?"

  "When we've got enough firepower at the other end to protect them,"

  Roshton grunted, stepping through himself and giving Binalie a nudge. "Come on, both of you. Our turn to move." The clone troopers who'd gone on ahead of them were waiting at the far end of the tunnel when Tories, Binalie, and Roshton arrived. 'Two minutes to go," the commander said, consulting his chrono. "What's cover like up there?"

  Binalie opened his mouth to answer - "Open space for three meters to the north, twenty meters to the south," one of the clone troopers they'd left behind on guard duty spoke up. 'Tree cover begins five meters to the east and remains intermittent."

  "Not perfect, but it'll do," Roshton decided. "Line up on the stairway.

  Lord Binalie, is there any trick to operating the exit door?"

  "The controls are right there," Binalie said, pointing to the panel, his tone suddenly sounding strange. "But-"

  "But what?" Roshton demanded, glaring at him.

  Binalie threw a quick, ambiguous glance at Tories. "Nothing," he muttered. "It'll keep."

  "Fine." Roshton looked up the stairway as his troopers headed up. "Get in position," he called softly. "We break cover at the sound of the first shot."

  "Two minutes to go," Lieutenant Laytron said, consulting his chrono. "All squads, report by number."

  He fell silent, listening intently to the reports coming in over his headset. Doriana found himself gazing off to the north, across the open grassland and the picket line of combat droids standing guard there. The force was largely a token one, of course, since there were no doors or windows on the southern side of the plant. The main droid army, plus all their remaining AAT battle tanks, was concentrated around the more vulnerable eastern, western, and northern approaches.

  But even a single person or machine on that forbidden stretch of lawn was anathema to the Cranscoc twillers who were the actual heart of the Spaarti operation. They were probably still twitching their indignation, in fact, over all those droids standing around out there. But of course, the Separatist commanders didn't care about that.

  On the other hand, since the plant's tooling was still set for the cloning cylinders the Republic forces had been sent to Cartao to manufacture, Roshton probably didn't much care if the twillers were upset, either. Two huge political systems, locked in a massive battle of wills and weapons and death, completely oblivious as to how their actions affected those around them. But those actions frequently involved a lot of unexpected collateral damage. That was a lesson someone was going to learn today.

  "One minute," Laytron said. "Stand ready."

  Doriana took a deep breath, willing calmness into himself. He had carried out his part of the plan, he knew, maneuvering both sides to precisely the right place and the right time. The rest was now out of his hands, and he could feel the churning sense of frustration that always came upon him at times like this.

  "And... go."

  With the multi-level roar of a dozen different engine models, a dozen commandeered civilian landspeeders leaped into view from concealment among the hills dotting the landscape, each loaded with anywhere from four to eight clone troopers. Quickly, they maneuvered around their hills to form an attack line on the southern edge of the grassland. Then, as the enemy pickets and the high-flying STAPs seemed to take notice, the engine pitches changed, and the vehicles set off at full speed toward the plant.

  "Stand by, cover fire," Laytron ordered. The STAPs were swooping in to the attack, their twin blasters spitting fire at the landspeeders. Ahead of the advancing landspeeders, the picket forces were drawing inward to form a solid counterline between the clone troopers and the plant. Their blasters opened up, too, searching for the range...

  "Fire," Laytron said.

  The tops of a dozen nearby hills suddenly blurred as camouflage covers were thrown off and heavy weapons scavenged from damaged gunships and AATs were swung around to bear on the enemy. Laser cannon bolts sizzled across the incoming STAPs, destroying half a dozen in the first salvo and sending the rest twisting away into evasive maneuvers. A pair of missiles streaked from one of the hills to hit the droid counterline dead center. When the smoke, dust, and purple afterimage of the explosion cleared from Doriana's sight, there was nothing left of the picket line but a crater and a hundred smoking pieces of combat droid.

  "Here they come," Roshton murmured, pointing to the east. Doriana shifted his eyes that direction. Three AAT battle tanks had appeared around the side of the building, laying down fire of their own as they lumbered toward the incoming landspeeders.

  "They're too late," Doriana said, estimating distances and speeds.

  "Absolutely," Laytron agreed as the hilltop covering fire shifted aim and began pummeling the AATs. "The fatal flaw of droid armies, Master Doriana: the soldiers actually on the scene can't think or anticipate."

  Doriana smiled. "Which is why the Republic is going to win."

  The battle tanks were still firing uselessly as the landspeeders reached the plant. Even before the vehicles came to a complete stop the clone troopers were leaping out, slinging their heavy rifles over their shoulders as they formed up beside the wall. The first two dozen to reach position lifted liquid-cable guns and fired upward. The grapplers caught the top edge of the rooftop, and a moment later, the soldiers were being reeled swiftly upward as their comrades held guard position beneath them. The remaining STAPs swung to this new threat, managing to kill two of the rising clone troopers before fire from the troopers below eliminated that threat.

&nb
sp; The first wave reached the roof and scrambled up onto it, unslinging their rifles and setting up a defensive perimeter. The second wave was already halfway up the side of the building by the time they were in position, with the final wave just leaving the ground.

  "And that's that," Laytron said with grim satisfaction as the clone troopers regrouped and started across the rooftop, weapons at the ready. "The Separatists can't fire on them without risking damage to the plant, but they'll be able to fire on the landing ship as soon as they're in range. Is that the sort of diversion you were thinking about, Master Doriana?"

  Doriana smiled. "Yes, Lieutenant," he said softly. "That should do nicely."

  The sounds of distant blaster fire were clearly audible as Tories emerged from the tunnel into the late afternoon sunlight.

  "Sounds like it's started," he muttered to Binalie as the two of them raced for the trees where most of the clone troopers who had gone before them had already taken cover. "I just hope they can keep it up until everyone's out."

  "Doesn't matter," Binalie said as they reached the trees.

  "What do you mean, it doesn't matter?" Tories asked as they squatted beneath the cover of a wide-crested forlaline bush.

  "That's the whole point of this exercise."

  Binalie shook his head. "Maybe it was your point, and mine," he said, his voice tense. "But it wasn't Roshton's. He has no intention of getting those techs out."

  "What are you talking about?" Tories demanded, frowning.

  "Didn't you hear him?" Binalie countered. "Him and his soldiers? He asked about cover, and they gave him the stuff north, south, and east. They never said anything about cover to the west; and he never asked."

  Tories blinked as the memory of that conversation flashed back to him.

  Binalie was right: Roshton hadn't inquired about conditions to the west. Yet west was the obvious direction for anyone fleeing the plant to go.

  But if they weren't leaving...

  His eyes flicked around, looking for Roshton, understanding suddenly stabbing into his stomach. He spotted the commander standing beside the tunnel entrance, gazing down the stairway as clone troopers continued to file out.

 

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