Conquest: Edge of Victory I

by Greg Keyes

  The counterforce hurled the corvette down, not far, but far enough to slam it nose-first into the Great Temple. An orchid of flame uncurled from its engines.

  A gasp later, the turbolaser in the turret began talking as Sannah took control of the gun. Anakin put the ship into a climb, fighting for distance though every meter he put behind him tore another stitch from his heart.

  “I’ll be back, Tahiri,” he said. “That I swear. I’ll be back.”

  Kam Solusar gasped and sagged against the damp stone wall of the cave. Tionne, nearby, stifled a cry of anguish. Some of the children, the more sensitive ones, began to cry, probably not even sure what they were crying about.

  He groped through the darkness until he found Tionne and took her in his arms. He could smell the salt on her cheeks, feel the torn place in her.

  Tionne felt things so deep, so strong. She had no fear of the pain that such openness could cause. It was one of the things he loved about her. While he put on armor against the universe, she took it all in and gave it back as something better. Her wound would heal, and from it a song would come. Others thought she was weak, because her powers in the Force weren’t so great.

  Kam knew better. Ultimately, she was stronger than he.

  “Master Ikrit,” she whispered.

  “I know,” Kam replied, stroking her silver hair. “He knew all along.”

  They stood that way for a few precious seconds, drawing strength and comfort from each other. It was Tionne who moved away first.

  “The children need us,” she said. “We’re all they have, now.”

  “No,” Kam whispered back. “Anakin is still out there.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Talon Karrde was a hostage, but he wasn’t supposed to know that. Imsatad probably thought himself clever and subtle for maneuvering Karrde into joining the search party on the moon’s surface and equally clever to make certain that there were twenty of his own people to Karrde’s four.

  Karrde was quite content to allow him that illusion of shrewdness.

  “We’ve already searched here,” Maber Yeff, the leader of the Peace Brigade segment of the team, said in his shrill little voice, waving his hand at a long row of vine-smothered ruins.

  “I’m sure you did,” Karrde replied. “But not with vornskrs.”

  Yeff’s pale, ax-nosed face turned dubiously toward the long-limbed beasts loping ahead of the group. “How do you know they don’t just smell womp rats or something?” he asked.

  “If they could do that, they would be valuable indeed,” Karrde replied. “As there are no womp rats on Yavin Four, it would require hyperwave noses to sniff them out all the way over on Tatooine.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Vornskrs sense the Force, and especially those creatures that use the Force. They are particularly suited for hunting Jedi.”

  “Yeah? Where can we get some? That would be useful in our line of work.”

  “Alas, mine are the only tame ones in existence. You don’t want to meet a wild one, I promise you.”

  “Still. We’ve got plenty more of these Jedi to hunt down, and with all of the advantages their sorcery gives them—and if these things do what you say—”

  “Observe,” Karrde said. The beasts had pricked up their ears and were panting eagerly. They darted through a crumbling entranceway.

  “But we looked in there,” Yeff repeated.

  “How many Jedi do you estimate are hiding in there? Based on my information, at least two adults and perhaps thirty children. Do you think you could see them if they didn’t want to be seen? Or that you would remember them if you did see them?”

  “Can they really do that?”

  “They can really do that.”

  “That’s what Captain Imsatad said. He also said you have a way around that.”

  Karrde smile thinly. “Indeed. A certain creature from the same planet as the vornskrs. It projects a bubble that repels the Force.”

  “That’s what your pretty lady has in the covered cage.”

  From the corner of his eye, Karrde saw Shada’s brows lower dangerously, but she continued to play her part. “Exactly. My sweet Sleena is as delicate as they are. She understands their needs.”

  “Yeah.” Yeff spared “Sleena” another leer. “Can I see it?”

  “Sunlight harms them, and they are easily agitated. If you wish, after the hunt, I’ll show them to you. For the time being, I suggest you have your people ready their weapons. The children shouldn’t put up much of a fight, but the adults will be formidable, even without their Jedi powers.”

  They followed the vornskrs into the ruins, through crumbling galleries incensed with the crushed-spice scent of blueleaf and the grainy, wormy smell of rotting wood. At first the light was dim but sufficient, falling in shards through gaps in the wall and roof, diffused by mist, leaves, and stringy mosslike stuff. But as they followed the vornskrs, it grew darker, and eventually they reached the opening to a stairwell that dropped steeply down into the bedrock foundations of the place.

  Karrde drew his blaster and nodded to Shada, on his right. Most everyone else already had theirs out.

  “After you,” Karrde suggested.

  “Your beasts,” Yeff told him. “You go ahead.”

  “As you wish.”

  The tunnel took them down through ages of stone scribed now and then in alien figures and script. Eventually it debouched into a large cavern. The vornskrs stood snarling and spitting at the darkness.

  “Sit,” Karrde commanded, the hair on his neck pricking up. Had he just seen a motion, part of a face, or was he just fooling himself? His own life depended on the answer.

  He looked again at the vornskrs, at the way their eyes moved. As if watching something walking, very near.

  “Where are they? I don’t see anything.” Yeff swung his lamp around.

  “No,” Karrde said. “Neither do I.” He raised his blaster and stunned the Peace Brigader.

  He managed to nail another one before the return fire came, and by then he was already diving for the rocks. Team members Halm and Ferson, alert for his signal, were already doing the same. Shada, on the other hand, was a gyroscoping blur in the midst of their enemies. Too bad Yeff was already stunned; otherwise he would be learning a whole new appreciation for the “pretty lady” right now.

  When they had allowed him only three of his crew, they hadn’t known exactly how good Shada was. How could they? Now it was too late.

  The air went thick with energy, and the cave strobed.

  By his count it was now four to fifteen.

  He heard Halm cry out, and regretfully amended his own forces to three. He pulled his other blaster and leapt up, both weapons blazing, searching for better cover.

  “Come on, come on,” he shouted. “I know you’re here! Regards from Luke and Mara’s wedding!”

  A bolt singed across his arm, and he stumbled on the uneven floor. I’m getting too old for this, he thought, rolling on his back. Without cover he would last a few seconds, maybe long enough to shoot two more. Shada might still manage to kill them all, but that would leave the galaxy short one Talon Karrde, which would be a terrible tragedy.

  Grimly, he raised his weapons and pointed over his feet. Muzzles flashed.

  And suddenly a glowing wand of energy appeared above him, cutting complex hieroglyphs in the air. The blaster bolts that had meant to end the glorious career of Talon Karrde whined off into the cavern.

  Karrde blinked up at the man standing over him. “Nice to see you, Solusar. What took you so long?”

  Then he opened up on the Peace Brigaders, climbing to his feet as he did so. Solusar was his cover now, deflecting the fire directed at them with that eerie Jedi certainty.

  Another lightsaber flashed into existence across the room. That would be Tionne.

  Karrde now counted five for his side, an estimated ten on the other.

  When the Peace Brigaders were down to three, they fled back up the passageway
.

  “We can’t let them get away,” Karrde said.

  “They won’t,” the shadowy figure beside him promised. Then he was gone.

  And somewhere behind him in the cavern, Karrde heard the voices of children.

  Kam Solusar returned a few moments later. Karrde made out his stern face and receding hairline in the dim light of a glow lamp. Solusar walked up to Karrde and regarded him for a moment.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t cut you down,” he said. “Bringing those men down here where the children are. Using your vornskrs against us. What if they had attacked the students?”

  Karrde cocked his head. “My pets are very well trained. They attack only on my order. Look, Solusar. I had to find you. I couldn’t do it without the interference of those fools, and when I did find you I had to get rid of them. They thought I had an ysalamiri with me, that your Jedi powers would be blocked.”

  “But you didn’t bring one.”

  “It’s an empty cage.”

  “So you turned on them, not knowing if we were really here or not.”

  “I know my pets. I was certain you were down here, and I didn’t want to cripple you by actually bringing an ysalamiri.”

  “That was quite a risk.”

  “I told Luke Skywalker I would take his students off of Yavin Four. If keeping my word requires risk, that’s acceptable.”

  Solusar nodded impatiently. “Understood. But how am I to know you’re telling the truth? I know you, yes, and you’ve been on the right side. But a lot of people are joining the Peace Brigade, and you’ve changed coats before, Karrde.”

  “So have you. Have you ever wanted to put the old one back on?”

  Solusar’s eyes narrowed, then he chopped his head in a single affirmation. “I’ll trust you. What now?”

  “Now I suggest we get out of here, before they send reinforcements.”

  Unfortunately, Captain Imsatad had not underestimated Karrde as badly as he might have. When they reached the surface, the forest was teeming with Peace Brigaders.

  “Perfect,” Kam Solusar muttered, ducking a blaster bolt that vaped a fist-sized hole in the stone near him. “At least before, we were hidden.”

  Karrde straightened the front of his outfit and glanced casually at his chrono. “Solusar, I’m injured. Don’t you have any faith in me?”

  “Faith is blind, unquestioned belief. What do you think?”

  “I think I would cover my ears if I were you.” He raised his voice. “Tionne, children. Cover your ears.”

  “Wha—” Solusar began, but was drowned out by what might have been two hands the size of Death Stars clapping.

  Karrde grinned with fierce satisfaction as turbolaser fire set the surrounding jungle ablaze. It was good to have a crew he could trust. He stepped from behind cover and, carefully aiming and picking off the few Peace Brigaders who were still paying attention, trotted toward where the Wild Karrde was landing. When the landing ramp came down, Kam Solusar and Tionne shepherded the children on board as Karrde and his crew provided cover fire. In moments, they were all inside.

  Karrde was the last aboard, and even as his feet hit the deck, the modified Corellian transport pirouetted and tossed itself at the sky. Through the closing hatch, Karrde saw several enemy ships already on their trail.

  He had known it would be a near thing. He almost couldn’t believe they had pulled it off.

  Of course, he would never say that aloud.

  Humming, he went at a brisk but dignified pace to his bridge.

  By the time he got there, the sky was already a deep blue bruise getting blacker by the second.

  “Well, gentlebeings,” Karrde said as he took his seat. “What’s the situation?”

  H’sishi shot him a harried look from the sensor station. “We did some damage to our watchdogs in orbit, but they’re all still flying. Now we have the ships from the surface to deal with as well.”

  “Well. Deal with them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The ship shuddered, and the inertial dampeners whined.

  “Opur,” Karrde shouted at one of his security men. “Make certain the children are secured somewhere. I don’t want one hair on their little Jedi heads harmed.”

  “Yes, sir,” Opur said, hurrying off.

  “Now.” Karrde studied the layout. “They’ve got us penned in, don’t they?”

  “Unless we can make the jump to lightspeed.”

  “With big Yavin right there?” Karrde mused. “No, not today. I think we’ll punch through the cage instead.” He tapped the console. “Here.”

  “That’s their most heavily armed ship,” Shada observed.

  “When a pack of vornskrs comes for you, always kick the biggest and meanest one right in the teeth. It will certainly get their attention.”

  “I believe we already have their attention.”

  “One can never have too much good wine, beautiful women, or attention,” Karrde said. “Go, and keep the throttle open.”

  “We won’t get their shields down before we reach them,” Shada said.

  “No, we won’t. Buy we’ll certainly see who blinks first.” He reflected for an instant. “Give me the controls.”

  “I thought you said gambling was a foolish occupation,” Shada remarked, as the frigate grew larger on their screens.

  “Indeed I did,” Karrde replied. “But I’m not gambling. On my mark, release proton torpedoes. Don’t fire them—just release them.”

  “As you wish, sir,” the gunner replied, sounding puzzled.

  “They’re trying for tractor lock,” Shada said.

  “Yes. Let them have it.”

  “What?”

  “Drop the shields.”

  This time the dampeners couldn’t absorb all of the shock; the deck felt as if it was buckling beneath their feet as the tractor beam caught them, killing their forward motion.

  “Torpedoes. Now,” Karrde said.

  “Torpedoes released.” Shada looked up. “The tractor beam has them.”

  “Good. Arm them and put our shields back up.”

  “Sir, they’ve commenced fire on the torpedoes.”

  “Have they released the tractor beam?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Detonate the torpedoes, then.”

  He reengaged the drive as the screen went white.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Treetops snapped as Anakin wrestled with gravity. Vehn’s complaints had deteriorated to a steady moan. Valin, strapped in the copilot’s seat, looked very ill. Sannah was still firing the turbolaser; from her, Anakin could sense both frustration and anger. Tahiri had been her friend, too.

  Was still her friend. Tahiri was alive. Anakin could feel that as certainly as he could feel his own skin.

  The transport cut a smoking swath across the tree line for a kilometer before Anakin saw what passed for a clearing. He dropped in, straining the inertial dampeners well beyond their parameters, fetching up against a wall of vines and secondary growth—dense, but without much mass. If he hit a big tree …

  He tried not to think about it. Instead he dumped a torpedo and reversed direction, traveling into the more open forest beyond on repulsors, drifting back toward the treetops, hiding in the canopy.

  The torpedo went, taking a hundred square meters of the forest with it in a carbon-rich plume.

  “Come on, you vultures,” Anakin muttered.

  “Got them,” Sannah called softly.

  “No,” Anakin replied. “Wait.”

  He could make it out through the smoke, a Sentinel-class shuttle.

  “They think we’ve crashed,” Valin said.

  “Yes,” Anakin replied, punching the engines back on. The modified shuttle tried to swing around as he rose out of the trees, but it was too late. He fired his last proton torpedo, and the Peace Brigade ship became a ball of fire, sinking into the already burning jungle.

  “Anakin!” Sannah shrieked.

  Instinctively, Anakin threw the ship skyward,
but not before multiple impacts ripped through the failing transport.

  “There you are,” he muttered. “After you, I’m done.”

  Of the three ships that had chased him halfway around the moon, only this one—an E-wing—remained. Unfortunately, while Anakin’s commandeered transport was limping so badly it would soon go down on its own, the speedy little fighter was undamaged.

  “You only have to hit it once, Sannah,” Anakin said. “Maybe twice.”

  “I can’t get a bead,” she shouted back.

  The little ship made a pass, and the air suddenly smelled sharply of ozone and vaporized metal as the transport tremored.

  “Let me have a shot!” Vehn demanded.

  “What?”

  “Look, I don’t wanna die. This is my ship, those are my guns. I know ’em better than that kid back there. She’s never even handled a gun before, that much is clear—yii!” Vehn blanched as Anakin put the ungainly craft in a barrel roll.

  “You think I trust you?”

  “Use your poodoo-stinking Jedi powers. Can’t you tell I’m serious?”

  To Anakin’s surprise, he really didn’t sense deception from the fellow.

  “You’d shoot down your own friends?”

  “They’re not my friends.”

  Again, no deception.

  Anakin made his decision. “Valin, uncuff him. Take him to the gun. Vehn, I promise you, if this is a trick, no matter what else happens, you’ll be sorry.”

  “Sorrier than I am now? I doubt it.”

  Anakin dropped low again, trying to buy a few more seconds. He had only one engine left on-line, and one more hit would finish that quickly enough.

  “I’m on it,” Vehn reported from the turret. “Give me a little altitude, that’s all I ask.”

  “You’ve got it,” Anakin said. Once more he put the ship in a climb. The E-wing saw its opportunity then, darting in and chewing what was left of the engine to shreds. It coughed off-line, and for an instant the transport seemed to hang suspended a hundred meters above the treetops. In that in-between moment, Vehn needled red lines across the sky, stitching through the E-wing. It spun wildly out of control. Then the transport was falling, and Anakin hit the repulsors, and the sound of tearing metal deafened him.