Star Wars - The Clone Wars - Secret Missions #3 - Duel at Shattered Rock

by Ryder Windham

  He’s sounding like Sharp, Nuru thought with some alarm. He whispered in return, “You’re suggesting someone activated it deliberately?”

  “I don’t know, sir. But Sharp was helping me with the systems check, and … Commander, have you noticed anything odd about Sharp?”

  Nuru considered telling Breaker about Sharp’s suspicions of a saboteur on the Harpy, but decided against it. He replied, “Why do you ask?”

  “Lately, he seems … well, guarded. And every few days, he reminds us all about his ‘sharp eyesight.’ Chatterbox and I were with him when Captain Lock nicknamed him Sharp, It’s not as if we would forget.”

  “I did notice Sharp has mentioned his eyesight more than once, but I didn’t think much of it.”

  “Just the same,” Breaker added. “I’m concerned. When we get back to Coruscant, I’ll recommend he consults a clone counselor, just to make sure everything is all right with—”

  Rumbling noises came from beyond the wooded area next to the spaceport. Turning to face the tall trees, Breaker said, “Sounds like repulsorlift engines.”

  “Gunn told me they’re swoop bikes.”

  And then five swoops tore into view, launching away from a cluster of trees at the edge of the woods. Even across the distance, Nuru could see that the biker on the rearmost swoop was an unusually large humanoid.

  The five swoops angled toward the spaceport, and then the leader gunned his engine and veered off toward the Harpy’s landing pad. The other bikers followed.

  On top of the Harpy, Gunn saw the swoops and said, “Heads up, fellas.” The other members of Breakout Squad paused in their search for the transmitter and directed their attention to the incoming bikers.

  Stepping in front of Nuru, Breaker reached under his poncho to unholster his blaster pistol. Nuru said, “Stay calm, Breaker. They may be harmless.”

  The five bikers came to a stop and killed their engines at the edge of the landing pad. All the bikers had bolstered blasters at their belts. The lead biker wore a helmet with a large, sharp-tipped horn that extended above his visor. He pulled off the helmet to reveal it had a hole above the visor, and that the horn was actually part of his own hairless head. The biker had muddy-yellow skin and big black eyes. Nuru recognized the alien biker’s species as an Advozse.

  Three other bikers removed their helmets to reveal themselves as human males with unshaven faces. The monstrous biker on the rearmost swoop was the only one not wearing a helmet, but Nuru imagined few manufacturers made helmets for heads so large. The giant had orange skin and long, pointed ears that jutted out beside his head, and he wore a vest over his shirtless torso, exposing a mountainous mass of muscle. Dirty black hair sprouted from his cranium, and a large gold ring dangled below his nostrils. Nuru did not recognize the giant’s species and suspected he was a hybrid, possibly a mix of human and Moggonite.

  The giant swung his bulk off his swoop, which adjusted to the loss of weight by ascending several centimeters before it leveled off. Nuru guessed he was at least two meters tall. The giant faced Nuru and grinned, revealing a lot of sharp teeth.

  The other bikers remained on their swoops. The Advozse blinked his black eyes at Breaker and said, “Welcome to Vaced, stranger. I’m Frutchoo. I represent the law around here, and these are my deputies.”

  The giant muttered, “You know I don’t like being called your deputy, Frutchoo. Nobody bosses me around.”

  “Pardon me,” Frutchoo said. “I meant to say my associates.”

  Breaker said, “Nice of you to greet us.”

  The giant yawned. “Can we get this over with? I wanna go get a drink.”

  “You always want to get a drink,” said one of the human bikers. “You’re a regular fozbeer fiend.”

  The giant reached out with one hand, grabbed the other biker by the collar, lifted him off the swoop, and snarled, “You got somethin’ against fozbeer?”

  The biker gasped, “No!”

  “Good,” said the giant. He released his grip. The biker landed hard upon his swoop’s saddle.

  Ignoring his allies, Frutchoo continued, “It’s my duty to collect the spaceport tax from all new arrivals. The tax is kind of like insurance. It prevents anything bad from happening to your ship.” He pointed to the nearby Arcona mechanic. “That guy probably wouldn’t be fixing a thruster plate right now if he’d paid the tax.”

  Overhearing this, the Arcona sputtered with outrage, “I did pay the tax!”

  “Not fast enough,” Frutchoo said with a shrug.

  Nuru smiled. “You don’t want anyone to pay the spaceport tax.”

  Frutchoo shook his head and said, “I don’t want anyone to pay the spaceport tax.”

  Nuru glanced at the giant and remembered what he had said about wanting a drink. Nuru said, “You’re all very thirsty.”

  The other bikers cleared their throats while the giant dragged a massive, hairy arm across his suddenly parched lips. Frutchoo made a rasping sound, then said, “We’re all very thirsty.”

  “You should find a nice, quiet place for a drink.”

  Frutchoo turned to the other bikers and said, “Let’s go to the tavern for some drinks.”

  Nuru added, “You’re buying.”

  “I’m buying.” Frutchoo put his helmet back on, and then he and the giant climbed back onto their swoops. All the bikers gunned their engines, then Frutchoo led them back toward the trading post.

  Breaker grinned. He had witnessed Nuru’s skill with Jedi mind tricks before. As the swoop gang parked their swoops outside the trading post, which evidently had a tavern on the premises, Breaker said, “Well done, Commander.”

  A gust of wind blew in from over the grassy plain. As the breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees in the woods beside the spaceport, Breaker said, “I just had a nasty thought.”

  “What is it?”

  “Those trees over there are the highest things in the area, the only things that overlook our position. A good vantage point for anyone who wanted to keep an eye on us. Maybe I should go take a look?”

  “Good thinking,” Nuru said. “But take your helmet and rifle.” Patting the comlink that was clipped beside the two lightsabers on his belt, he added, “Contact me if you see anything unusual or need help.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Breaker went back into the Harpy and exited a moment later, carrying his helmet and blaster rifle. Seeing him, Nuru said, “On second thought, contact me when you reach the trees.”

  “You’re worried about me?”

  “I’m concerned about us all.”

  Breaker put on his helmet. “Talk with you soon, sir.” He walked off, heading for the field of tall grass that lay between the spaceport and the forest.

  Nuru looked at Knuckles and Sharp, who were both so busy searching for the transmitter on the Harpy’s belly that they had not noticed Breaker’s departure. Nuru considered telling Sharp to go along with Breaker, but when he looked back to the grassy field, Breaker had already vanished.

  Hudu Shiv landed his enforcement ship in the shadow of a craggy cliff, six kilometers west of Vaced Spaceport. Looking through the cockpit window, he saw the surrounding rocks were weirdly cylindrical and colorful. He realized he had touched down in the remains of an ancient petrified forest. Except for a small cloud of insects several meters away from the ship, there was no sign of life.

  Shiv had already attached the leather utility belt that Dooku had given him to his own belt. Leaving the cockpit, he secured his rifle across his shoulder as he moved past the hatch for the ship’s emergency lifeboat. He went to the cargo hold, where a sleek speeder bike was racked against a bulkhead. The bike appeared to be a standard Mobquet Ripper with a powerful repulsorlift engine and front-mounted steering vanes, but the engine was armor-plated and the steering vanes had been filed to razor sharpness. The bike also carried a small arsenal of concealed weapons as well as a supply pack that held a set of tree-climbing spurs.

  Moving methodically, Shiv unlock
ed the bike, pulled it away from the bulkhead, and used his elbow to press a button to open the cargo hatch as he climbed onto the bike. The hatch opened with a hissing sound. He kicked off with his legs, allowing the bike to glide silently out of the ship. Once outside, he tapped a remote to secure the ship and then launched his bike away from his landing site.

  The surrounding rocks suddenly blurred past Shiv’s bike. Less than a minute later, he was skimming over the grassy plain, heading for the forest near the spaceport. Behind his helmet, his steely eyes glanced at a time display. If Count Dooku’s intelligence sources were correct, Commissioner Sommilor’s ship would arrive on Vaced in less than an hour.

  Shiv accelerated. He ignored the rush of air against his armored shoulders and blocked out the whine of the speeder bike’s engine. Calming his mind, he visualized what would happen next.

  He would reach the forest. He would park the speeder bike near the base of a tall tree. He would climb the tree, taking his rifle with him. He would watch the skies for Sommilor’s starship and wait for it to land at the spaceport.

  And then the killing would begin.

  Boom.

  Ring-Sol Ambase opened his eyes. Was that thunder?

  Still lying on the bed chat was surrounded by medical computers, Ambase looked to the single window in his chamber, trying to determine whether the gray sky had grown darker.

  How long was I unconscious? He remembered the droids had escorted the clone trooper out of his chamber. He did not recall drifting off into a dreamless sleep, or—

  Boom. KaBOOM.

  Ambase’s body went rigid. That’s not thunder.

  More explosions followed, each growing louder than the last. Ambase thought they sounded like cluster bombs. As another series of explosions shook the walls and knocked the medical equipment to the floor, he took a deep breath and tried to elevate his head and shoulders. One of the diagnostic computers began beeping loudly.

  As more blasts wracked the building, three B1 battle droids, each carrying an E-5 blaster rifle, stumbled through the doorway into Ambase’s chamber. The droids began hastily gathering the medical equipment. The third droid grabbed metal bar at the foot of Ambase’s bed and yanked it hauling the bed toward the doorway. As the bed moved across the room without any indication of friction against the floor, Ambase realized his bed rested upon a hovering gravsled.

  “What’s happening?” Ambase said. “Who’s attacking the—“

  From the bed, Ambase watched in amazement as the clone who claimed to be Sharp—still clad in the gray clothes Dooku had given him—dived head first through the doorway and into the chamber. One droid opened fire, missing the clone but blasting a hole near the base of one wall. The clone somersaulted and came to a stop in a low crouch. He was holding a blaster rifle. He fired, cutting down two droids instantly.

  The remaining droid returned fire. The clone jumped sideways to dodge the blaster bolts, then kicked off one wall and launched himself at the droid.

  The clone slammed against the droid’s body, causing the droid to stumble backward. Unprepared for the assault, the droid fired reflexively and accidentally blasted the transparisteel window behind him. The window exploded outward, and a cold wind whipped into the chamber. The droid tripped over his feet and fell back against the ruined window’s frame.

  Moving fast, the clone braced one of his own legs behind the droid’s left ankle as he shoved the droid hard. The shove carried the droid through the window, and then the droid was gone.

  Ambase gasped. “How did you—?”

  “No time to talk, sir.” The clone stepped over the ruined droids, seized the metal bar at the foot of the bed, and pulled the gravsled after him through the doorway.

  More explosions sounded outside the building as the clone hauled the gravsled through a corridor. Ambase saw dust falling from the ceiling and squeezed his eyes shut. He said, “Where’s Dooku?”

  “I think he went to his sailer.” More blasts wracked the building, Ambase opened his eyes to see the clone was heading for a closed door. The clone used his elbow to strike a metal panel on the wall, and the door slid open.

  The clone hauled him through the doorway. Ambase smelled cold, wet air mixed with fire and smoke. Ambase’s eyes began to tear. He held his breath and closed his eyes again. He felt rain pelt his face and heard the roar of starfighters overhead. Recognizing the noise of the engines, he gasped out, “Republic starfighters?”

  “Sounds like it, sir.”

  When they emerged from the smoke, Ambase opened his eyes and saw that the clone had delivered them to a staggered series of landing pads. Ambase realized the pads were the ones that the clone had mentioned earlier while looking out the window from the medical chamber. The clone had claimed he had seen three ships, but Ambase saw only two. One was a needle-nosed, ridged-back Kuat Corona-class transport, which showed no obvious sign of damage. The other was a blazing wreck, but Ambase could make out that it was a seed-shaped vessel with two long, forward prongs jutting above and below a bubble cockpit, which was now shattered and expelling gas and smoke. Ambase immediately recognized the wreckage.

  Dooku’s solar sailer! Is Dooku … dead?!

  The Kuat transport’s hatch was already open. The clone shoved the gravsled that carried Ambase through the Kuat transport’s open hatch, and then secured the gravsled to a bulkhead behind the cockpit. Blaster fire began hammering at the transport’s exterior. The clone jumped into the cockpit and began throwing switches.

  Ambase said, “You can fly this?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ambase heard the engines fire, and then the transport lifted off. Rain pounded at the hull, and the entire ship shuddered as it rose up through gray clouds. Twisting his head, Ambase could see the clone in the cockpit, wrestling with the flight controls.

  Laser fire tore at the transport’s shields. Ambase said, “Who’s shooting at us?”

  “The scopes read twelve Delta-7Bs. I can’t see them through these clouds.”

  Startled, Ambase said, “Twelve … Jedi starfighters?!”

  “They think we’re the enemy! I’m trying to hail them.” Another explosion caused the transport to lurch hard to port. “The comm’s not working. I can’t—”

  “Just get us out of here!”

  The clone took evasive action, sending the transport hard to the side, then arcing straight up. They broke through the clouds, and a field of stars came into view. As they hurtled into space, Ambase said, “Are we being followed?”

  “No, sir. Scopes indicate the starfighters stayed behind to hammer Dooku’s castle.” The clone adjusted one of the scopes.

  “Tell me … how did you get out of your cell?”

  “I overheard Dooku telling the droids that Republic ships were incoming. He told the droids to bring you and me to his solar sailer. Two droids were escorting me from my cell when I decided to make a break for it. I got lucky.”

  Ambase’s mind raced. “Do you know if Dooku survived?”

  “No, sir. But if he made it into his sailer before it got hit, I doubt he could have lived.”

  Even though Ambase was still weak, he suspected he would have sensed Dooku’s death. He took a deep breath. “Can you confirm we’re in the Bogden system?”

  The clone checked a navigational console. “Readings indicate we just left Kohlma, one of Bogden’s moons. Our hyperdrive appears to be operational. Should I set the navi-computer to plot a course for Coruscant?”

  Ambase suddenly recalled what Dooku had said about the possibility of the Sith turning Jedi apprentices against their own Masters. “No. I need time to recover … and think.” He remembered Dooku’s claim that Nuru had seized Bilbringi Depot. Although he had no reason to believe Dooku, he felt compelled to investigate. He said, “Can you get us to the Bilbringi system?”

  The clone consulted the nav console again. “Yes, sir, but… it will take a while.”

  “Do it.”

  Count Dooku stood outside his castle and wat
ched the astromech droids extinguish the flames from the apparently ruined solar sailer. In fact, the wreckage had been originally nothing more than a full-scale, nonworking replica. His actual ship had been moved to a hangar on the other side of the castle.

  Thanks to the falling rain, the fire-fighting astromechs accomplished their job quickly. When they were done, Dooku directed their attention to the castle’s entrance and said, “There are wrecked droids inside the castle. Gather all of their parts and bring them to the recycler.” One astromech beeped in response, then the others followed him away from the smoldering replica.

  The sound of Jedi starfighters circling overhead did not alarm Dooku, for the noise, like the replica solar sailer was a ruse of his invention. He looked up to see Asajj Ventress’s Fanblade starfighter descend to the landing pad that had been previously occupied by the Kuat transport. Hovering alongside Ventress’s fighter were eleven small, silver orbs.

  Ventress exited her fighter and spotted Dooku standing below his personal floating energy shield. “The transport fled into space,” she said. “If the smoke bombs and flash detonators weren’t enough to convince those two fools that Republic forces were attacking your castle, seeing twelve ‘Jedi starfighters’ on their scopes certainly did the job.”

  Dooku glanced at the floating orbs. Like Ventress’s Fanblade, each orb had been rigged to transmit a signal that would make them appear as Delta-7Bs on enemy scopes. Dooku said, “Remove the fake transponder codes from your fighter and the remotes, then meet me inside the communications chamber.”

  Dooku started to walk away, but Ventress said, “Wait. I don’t like being kept in the dark. Tell me, Master … why did you have me bring Ambase and that clone all the way from Kynachi, only to let them escape?”

  Dooku smiled. “If you ever had any reservations about working in darkness, Ventress, you never should have offered your services to me.” And then Dooku turned and walked back to his castle, leaving Ventress quietly fuming in the rain.