The Old Republic Series

by Sean Williams

  The attack ceased, and she staggered back a step, breathing heavily. Her lungs were full of hot smoke and ozone. Her head rang with sound. One of the things attacking her had been blown back by some kind of weapon. The details eluded her. The important thing was that the droids were distracted. This was her chance to find out how tough they really were.

  “Whose authority do you recognize?” she shouted, launching herself at the nearest. Its hand weapons were concentrated on the shield of a laser cannon and didn’t turn in time. “Whose authority do you recognize?”

  The droid-thing didn’t answer.

  Her rage spun instants out into hours.

  First, she tried spearing the hexagonal body with her lightsaber.

  Some kind of shield appeared between them, bending her blade back at her own arm, forcing her to retreat.

  Next she tried blasting it with Sith lightning.

  The thing’s body caught the energy and discharged it from the tips of its limbs. Four sparkling arms lunged at her, forcing her to duck again.

  She reached out a hand and tried to crush its insides telekinetically.

  Its honeycomb skeleton resisted more powerfully than durasteel. The hex’s deadly limbs flailed to impale or shoot her, no matter how hard she strained.

  They screamed together, locked in a vicious stalemate. She couldn’t kill it, and it couldn’t kill her. It moved on lean, powerful servos that matched her own strength and agility. Its black sense organs tracked her every movement. But every blue pulse it fired at her was reflected by the Force barrier, and every wild slash of its razor-sharp limbs was deflected harmlessly.

  Then suddenly it retreated. Its limbs worried at its metallic skin as though scratching itself for fleas. She followed it, puzzled and wary. Was this a trap, some strange new tactic to throw her off her guard? She lunged at it, and it backed rapidly away, firing a stream of blue to keep her at bay.

  Then it stopped, stood its ground, and vanished.

  For a second Ax doubted the evidence of her own eyes. How could a droid just disappear? It wasn’t possible!

  A blast of blue energy struck her from the side, out of thin air, and she realized: the droid had activated a camouflage system, reducing its appearance to little more than a blur. It was blending into the background, circling her, trying to shoot her in the back.

  Ax narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know what these things could or couldn’t do, exactly, but of one thing she was completely sure. One way or another, they were going to die. She was going to destroy them all.

  SHIGAR BLINKED SWEAT out of his eyes and took the chance to catch his breath. Backup couldn’t have come too soon, even if it was in the form of a Sith and a green-skinned Twi’lek at the controls of a laser cannon. He didn’t have the energy to complain. With one of the droid-things down, speared by the Twi’lek right through the middle, and another occupied by the girl, that left just one for him and Stryver to finish off.

  The Mandalorian hovered over it, peppering it with blasterfire and concussion missiles. Shigar waited for an opening.

  His comlink buzzed.

  “You should fall back,” Larin told him. “We’ve got it covered now.”

  “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

  “But you’re hurt. At least have someone look at that for you.”

  He looked down and noticed for the first time that his left arm was covered with blood. He had been completely oblivious to the pain.

  The laser cannon fired again. This time the droid-things were ready. The one Shigar was watching dropped to a crouch and threw up its electromirror shield. The bolt from the cannon knocked it backward, but the bolt itself was reflected into the wall. There it exploded harmlessly, showering two crouching noncombatants with gravel.

  Stryver swooped in on his jetpack and landed next to Shigar. Shigar raised his lightsaber, but the Mandalorian wasn’t on the offensive.

  “Tell them to aim for the vault,” he said, indicating the comlink.

  “Why, what’s in there?”

  “Just tell them.”

  Then he lifted off and went back to harrying the target. Again the laser cannon fired, and again the bolt exploded into the wall.

  Shigar relayed the instruction. “The door’s open,” he said, “and it’s a confined space. Anything left in there will be fried.”

  Larin passed the message on to the Twi’lek. From his position, Shigar could see his lekku swinging in an instant negative. A brief argument ensued before Larin came back to him.

  “The navicomp might still be in there,” she said over the comlink. “If you can get it out, then they’ll fire into the vault.”

  Shigar didn’t dismiss the plan out of hand. Far be it from him to aid the Hutts in their venal pursuits, but the Republic needed all the help it could get in the war against the Empire. It wasn’t his primary mission, but it was still important.

  “All right,” he started to say.

  Then two things happened that put all thought of the navicomp from his mind. First, the droid-thing attacking the Sith girl disappeared. Second, the laser cannon fired again, and the bolt was deflected a third time into the wall.

  Into the same section of the wall, Shigar realized. The shots weren’t ricocheting at random. They were being aimed.

  “Stop firing!” he shouted into the comlink. “Tell him to stop firing!”

  Larin tapped her helmet, obviously thinking she had misheard his order.

  The Sith girl was moving, following a dimple in the air. It fired back at her, blue pulses appearing out of nowhere and bouncing off her Force barrier. The nearly invisible droid-thing was heading for the two noncombatants Shigar had seen earlier.

  “I said stop firing!” He waved his arms to convey his urgency. “Now!”

  The Twi’lek ignored him. Another bolt went into the wall, widening the crater that had already been bored into it. One more shot, Shigar thought in alarm. That was all it would take to ruin everything.

  The hand weapons weren’t strong enough that the droids could shoot their own way out, so they were using the Hutts’ weaponry instead. Instead of killing them, the laser cannon was going to set them free.

  Shigar ground his teeth together and sprinted forward. If Larin couldn’t stop the Twi’lek from firing, he would have to throw himself at the camouflaged droid and hope to succeed where the Sith had failed.

  Distantly he heard the roar of Stryver’s jetpack pass overhead, but the significance of it eluded him. The shot he had feared came from the laser cannon and bounced off the electromirror shield, into the deepening pit in the wall. Long cracks spread out from it, and suddenly masonry was tumbling down from the wall. The two noncombatants lay directly in the path of the rubble.

  Shigar had a choice. He could intercept the droid or save the two men. He couldn’t do both. There was just a split second in which to decide.

  Ignoring his pain and exhaustion, he let the Force flow through him and did the only thing he could.

  YEAMA’S TEETH WERE bared in determination as he fired at the cowering hex. Larin yelled at him to stop—she had guessed the droid-thing’s intentions, just like Shigar—but the Twi’lek was blindly resolute. He thought he was doing the right thing. He honestly believed that he was on the verge of overpowering his target. He wouldn’t listen.

  She braced herself to physically wrench Yeama from the laser cannon’s controls, but the rising whine of a jetpack made her look up. Stryver was on his way. He must also have seen what the laser cannon was doing. But he wasn’t flying to defend the breach, as Shigar was. He was coming right for her.

  Barely in time, Larin realized his intentions. She hurled herself away from the cannon and dived for cover. Behind her, the cannon erupted into a ball of flame. Bits of metal whizzed past her, pinging off her armor. A wave of heat engulfed her. She felt like a rancor had gripped her in its jaws and was shaking her back and forth.

  When it was over, she looked back at the laser cannon. It was a smoking ruin,
destroyed by Stryver’s missiles. Of Yeama, there was no sign at all.

  Stryver dropped heavily next to her. His armor was as blackened and dented as hers. “Get into the vault. Destroy everything you find there.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Finish things. I’ve seen enough.”

  As he spoke, more of the damaged wall fell away, revealing empty space on the other side. The hexes were already heading for the opening, followed by the Sith. Stryver grunted and took to the air, activating weapons systems he had not yet used against the droids. Larin watched him go, thinking hard.

  There would be time for thinking later, she reminded herself again. The priority was to put an end to the current crisis. Stryver wasn’t above taking drastic steps to do exactly that—killing Yeama to put the cannon out of action was just one example—and he seemed to know what he was talking about. Looking around her, she found two of poor Potannin’s guards and called them to her. Moving gingerly through the rubble, they headed for the battle-scarred antechamber, and the gaping mouth of the vault.

  ULA STARED UP in horror at the descending mass of masonry. There was nothing he or Jet could do to avoid being crushed, and Jet’s droid was too far away to intervene. There wasn’t time for last regrets or second thoughts. The law of gravity was unbreakable, even on lawless Hutta.

  He raised his arms in a futile attempt at self-preservation and closed his eyes.

  He didn’t die. His thoughts ground on with increasingly amazed vitality, until eventually it occurred to him that someone had intervened to help him live a little longer.

  He opened his eyes. The avalanche had been deflected around them by an invisible force. By the Force, he realized as he looked around for the source of his salvation. It was the Jedi, standing with his left hand outstretched in a warding motion and his expression fierce. Ula himself could feel nothing at all arising from that gesture, but he was profoundly grateful that the stones seemed to do so perfectly well.

  Another rumble came from above. The wall wasn’t stable. The Jedi deflected another falling slab, which crashed next to them with a thunderous sound.

  “Come on,” said Jet, tugging at his arm. “I think it’s time we found somewhere else to stand.”

  Ula wholeheartedly agreed. Conflicted but grateful, he nodded his thanks at the Jedi and scurried with Jet out of the danger zone. Jet was leading them toward what had once been the external exit to the security air lock but was now a path cleared through mountains of rubble. Jet’s droid was waiting for him there, waving his arms. The stubby barrel of the laser cannon protruded from between two large slabs. Behind it, Ula could see Larin and Yeama fighting over the controls.

  Then Stryver swooped in, firing at the cannon. Larin jumped or was thrown clear, and Ula’s heart hammered in his chest. Was she hurt? Could he help? Jet pulled him down as the cannon exploded and shrapnel pinged around them. He belatedly covered his head with his hands, feeling as though he had spent the last hour in that position.

  This wasn’t becoming of an Imperial operative, he told himself, weary of his own cowardice. He had once had aspirations of being a Cipher Agent, whose job was to negotiate exactly such situations. Here he was, right in the thick of things, and what was he doing? When he wasn’t being saved by Jedi, he was cowering and whimpering at the slightest noise. It simply wouldn’t do.

  The droids were busy with Stryver, Shigar, and the Sith. The way into the antechamber was wide open.

  “I’m going to see what’s in there,” he said. “Coming?”

  Jet looked at him as though he had gone stark, staring mad. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? This is my chance to get in before anyone else does.”

  “Isn’t that cheating?”

  “If it is, I’m not the only one. Look.” He gripped Jet by the shoulder. “Larin’s moving. I have to stop the Republic from getting there first.”

  Jet smiled tightly at that. “I think you mean ‘the Imperials,’ my friend.”

  Ula flushed. “Yes. Yes, of course. That’s exactly what I meant.”

  “Envoy Nirvin is over there. I don’t think he cares much, either way.”

  Jet pointed at a body so badly crushed that Ula couldn’t identify it. Ula winced and averted his eyes.

  “Regardless, I’m going. You can come if you want. I don’t care.”

  “All right, all right—but keep your head down!”

  Jet wiped his palms on his dusty trousers and took the lead, as if by doing so he might increase the chances of either of them returning alive.

  THE WALL COLLAPSED despite the Jedi’s best efforts to prop it up. Fresh air rolled in on a wave of dust and ash. Ax’s nearly invisible droid hopped agilely from outcrop to outcrop toward the opening. In two leaps, it reached the hole and jumped into the light of the outside world.

  The droid following in its wake fired at her. Its pulses had turned purple, somehow, and now packed a more powerful punch. She rolled, keeping her shield intact, and reflected the pulses back at it. More dust went up, and the droid vanished into the cloud. She didn’t need to use the Force to know that it had followed in its sibling’s footsteps.

  Stryver was hot on their heels, jetpack blazing. Ax risked being burned in his afterwash, she was following so close behind him. The Jedi followed her, looking worn out and battered. She considered turning on him and striking him down, taking the chance to finish what they had started earlier, but more important concerns drove her now. She could hear the droids screeching as they burst into the unsuspecting populace of Tassaa Bareesh’s palace. The sound of their voices fueled her desire to destroy them, to see them all very, very dead.

  Evocii and other aliens were running everywhere, fleeing both the droids and the Mandalorian firing at them. His concussion missiles brought down ceilings and walls in the droids’ path, stopping them from getting too far ahead. They fired back at him, causing still more collateral damage. If this kept up, Ax thought, it wouldn’t be long before Tassaa Bareesh’s entire place was destroyed. She couldn’t find it in her heart to care.

  When Stryver was within range, he used his net launcher to bring the semi-visible droid down. He hadn’t tried this tactic before, she noted. Furthermore, the net was different from the one he had used on her. Why he had changed his tactics was, however, less important at the moment than the fact that they were working. The net’s mesh was electrified, and delivered a powerful pulse of energy to the droidthing’s silver skin. The six-legged creature spasmed and twitched, shedding sparks into everything it touched. Its keening took on a new, desperate note as its camouflage failed.

  Ax prepared to rush in and finish it off.

  Then she stopped.

  What am I doing?

  The answer took surprisingly long to come. This wasn’t her fight. Unless one of the droids was carrying the navicomp, she had nothing to gain by killing them. Revenge might seem sweet at that moment, but she would be full of regret later if attaining it meant failing in her mission. Darth Chratis would make sure of that.

  The Cinzia, Lema Xandret. They were what mattered.

  The Jedi rushed past her, lightsaber upraised. Let him finish off the fallen droid, Ax decided. To him could go that minor spoil. Then he and Stryver could surely finish off the one droid left to deal with on their own.

  Unnoticed by either of them, she turned and headed back to the security air lock.

  SHIGAR STABBED DOWN into the guts of the fallen droid, pressing hard to penetrate the surprisingly tough metal of its exoskeleton. Its legs strained against the net, failing either to fire at him or to form its electromirror defense. Sparks still discharged all around it, and Shigar was careful not to be either burned or shocked. As it was, the hairs of his arms were standing on end, electrified even along the shaft of his lightsaber.

  The droid’s gleaming sense organs turned matte black when it died. It slumped back with a metallic rattle, and its legs hung limp. Still Shigar worked through its body,
making sure nothing survived. The case split open, spilling several white, shell-like hemispheres. Fearing they might create some kind of last-minute attack, Shigar speared them, too. They hissed and collapsed, oozing a dark red liquid.

  When he was absolutely positive the droid had no life left, he stepped away and hurried after Stryver. The final droid was peppering the Mandalorian with its newly potent pulses, keeping well out of range of his net launcher. Stryver in turn had managed to maneuver it into a cul-de-sac and pinned it between him and a trio of Nikto security guards. Their blasters were ineffectual against the thing’s armor, but they had a distracting effect.

  Shigar came up behind the Mandalorian and considered how best he could help. The roof was low and much less sturdy than that of the security air lock. Reaching out through the Force, he loosened a key beam and brought a shower of bricks and ceiling tiles down onto the droid. The distraction was sufficient for Stryver to get close enough to cast the net.

  The droid went down with a shriek of pain and anger. Stryver pumped three concussion grenades into its chest, not caring about the Nikto standing nearby. Shigar pushed past him to finish off the droid himself, before anyone else could get hurt.

  Prior to delivering the killing blow, he tried talking to it.

  “Why are you fighting?”

  “We do not recognize—”

  “You’re a combat droid. You must have core protocols.”

  “—not recognize your—”

  “Who is your commander? Your maker?”

  “—your authority! We—”

  Stryver leaned past him and plunged his collapsible shockstave into the thing’s chest. Its legs flailed, and it squealed so piteously that Shigar almost felt sorry for it. Then its vocabulator function degraded and its voice became little more than piercing electronic tones. He was glad when it finally fell silent.

  His comlink buzzed.

  “Shigar, I’m in the vault,” said Larin. “You need to see this.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. It—”

  With a blast of static, the comlink went dead.