Star Wars: Dark Nest III: The Swarm War

by Denning, Troy

  An instant later the heat-blackened nose of a drop ship crashed down into the chamber, its shield generators overloading and exploding as they struggled to push back the cramped shaft the Mollom had dug beneath it. Rain began to pour down the hole, and the craft’s forward beam cannons continued to fire, filling the room with heat and steam and color, and blasting bantha-sized craters into the walls and floor.

  Jaina made a scooping motion with her hand, using the Force to hurl a huge mass of soil at the cannons, driving the mud down the emitter nozzle and packing it tight around the galven coils. The weapons exploded an instant later, blowing off the turret and leaving a five-meter breach in the top hull.

  The Killiks rattled forward in a boiling wave, the tiny Jooj swarming along the walls and ceiling, the mighty Rekkers springing directly onto the drop ship. The Rekkers boomed their thoraxes in glee and dived through the breach left by the destroyed turret. A few seconds after the first insects had entered, the drop ship’s hull began to reverberate with muffled sizzles and dull pings.

  Jaina clicked her throat in approval, then reached out in the Force to see if she could sense Jagged Fel’s presence aboard the vessel. They were enemies now, but she did not want him to die. As a skilled tactician and a high-ranking Chiss officer, he would be a great asset to the Colony—assuming he could be captured and brought into a nest.

  And if Jag became a Joiner, she mused, the Dawn Rumble would be so much more—

  “R u u buruub!” Wuluw burst out. The little Killik started to turn and flee back down the tunnel. “Bur!”

  “No!” Jaina caught the insect by an arm. “This way.”

  If the Chiss were arming the drop ship’s self-destruct mechanism, the last place they wanted to be when the shock waves hit was underground. Dragging Wuluw along, Jaina Force-leapt onto the drop ship’s hull, then sprang again, leaping half a dozen meters to the surface.

  She found herself standing in the heart of the Chiss landing zone, a clearing of mud and ash surrounded by a circle of blast-toppled mogo trees. A hundred meters away, the landing zone abruptly gave way to a skeleton jungle, a leafless tangle of trunks and limbs stripped bare by Chiss defoliating sprays. In the distance, barely visible through the pouring rain and the naked timber, she could see the upended tail of another drop ship, rising out of a hole similar to the one from which she had emerged.

  A flurry of shrill sizzles erupted as a Chiss squad opened up with their charric rifles. Wuluw tried to dive back underground, but Jaina jerked her in the opposite direction.

  “I told you, this way!” Jaina started across the clearing, dodging and weaving and dragging Wuluw along. “It’s safer!”

  “Bur ub bbu!”

  “Of course they’re shooting at us.” Jaina reached the edge of the clearing and dived for cover. “They’re the enemy!”

  They landed between a pair of fallen mogo trees, and the sizzles became crackles as the charrics began to chew through the speeder-sized trunk.

  “R-ruu u-u b-b-burr,” Wuluw stammered.

  “Don’t worry.” Jaina unslung her repeating blaster. “We’re Jedi, aren’t we?”

  Wuluw thrummed her thorax doubtfully.

  Jaina popped up and began to pour bolts back across the clearing. The nearest drop ship—the one she had bounded up—had not yet self-destructed, and the Jooj were swarming up the hull and pouring out across the landing zone. The Rekkers were coming, too, springing out of the pit by the dozens, booming their thoraxes in glee and spraying shatter gun pellets in every direction.

  But the Chiss were recovering from their shock and making their presence known. Nearly half the leaping Rekkers tumbled back into the hole, their thoraxes trailing arcs of gore or their heads vanishing in the flash of a maser beam. And many of those who did reach the jungle floor landed in pieces or limp, oozing heaps.

  Jaina did her best to cover them, but the Chiss troops were camouflaged in color-shifting, fractal-pattern armor that made them nearly impossible to see. She reached out in the Force and felt perhaps a hundred enemy soldiers scattered throughout the area, all confused, frightened, and—typically for Chiss—still resolute. She began to rely on the Force rather than her eyes to find targets and saw a bolt strike what appeared to be a mogo limb—until it dropped its charric rifle and whirled away clutching a wounded shoulder.

  Then a powerful jolt shook the ground. The nearest drop ship’s tail erupted into a ball of shrapnel and orange flame, and the Force shuddered with the anguish of a mass death. Jaina dropped back behind the tree and turned to pull Wuluw down beside her. She found only a shard of white-hot durasteel, lodged in a blood-sprayed mogo trunk behind where the Killik had been standing.

  Jaina had seen—had caused—so much carnage in combat that she had believed herself numb to the storm of emotions it spawned. But the loss of the frightened little Wuluw brought it all back—all the fear and the anger and the guilt, the despair and the loneliness and the soul-scorching rage that had been lurking just beneath the surface since the deaths of Anakin and Chewbacca and so many others.

  Jaina leapt up again, eager to blast a hundred Chiss, to make the invaders pay for the deaths of Wuluw and so many others, but apart from her own fading battle cry, the area had fallen suddenly quiet. All that remained of the drop ship was the black smoke streaming out of the pit and a few shards of white-hot metal embedded in fallen mogos. Chiss and Rekkers alike remained tucked down among the tree trunks around her, momentarily too stunned to continue killing, and even the surviving Jooj seemed disoriented, swirling across the ground in rambling swarms of brownish green.

  In the distance, Jaina could make out more columns of smoke rising toward the emerald sky. Every few moments, a fresh thud sounded somewhere in the rain, marking the destruction of another drop ship. Each detonation brought the death of thousands of insects, but an entire drop fleet of detonations would not change the battle’s outcome. What the Chiss failed to understand—what they would refuse to understand until it was too late—was that they could not win a war of attrition against the Colony.

  A Killik could lay a thousand eggs a month, and within a year, those eggs would be battle-ready nymphs. In two years, the survivors would lay eggs of their own. Kill one Killik, and ten thousand would take its place. Kill ten thousand, and a million would take theirs. If the Chiss wanted to survive this war, they had only one choice: withdraw to their own borders and sue for peace. It was that simple.

  After a moment, the Jooj started to find their way into the fallen trees the enemy was using for cover. Chiss soldiers began to leap out of hiding, screaming and ripping their armor off, slapping and even shooting at the thumbnail-sized insects that had slipped past their defenses. Jaina understood their panic. The Jooj were not attacking so much as feeding, injecting their prey with a flesh-dissolving enzyme and sucking the liquefied flesh back into their mouths. Supposedly, victims felt as if they were being burned alive.

  The surviving Rekkers began to take advantage of the enemy’s panic, pounding them with shatter gun pellets the moment they showed themselves. Other Chiss returned fire, and soon the battle was in full swing again. Jaina stretched into the Force and poured blasterfire at soldiers she could sense but did not see. The sharp phoots of insecticide grenades began to detonate all around her, and she felt Killiks dying slow, anguished deaths as their respiratory spiracles swelled shut.

  Finally, Killik reinforcements began to pour out of the smoking pit again, the Rekkers springing into view with their weapons blazing, the Jooj scuttling over edges and spreading outward in all directions. The Chiss, disciplined even when it was clear they had no chance of survival, responded with a desperate assault, hurling vape charges and insecticide grenades into the hole in a futile effort to turn back the Killik tide.

  Jaina felt an enemy presence behind her and turned to find a trio of Chiss soldiers leaping over a mogo trunk. Their charric rifles were already swinging in her direction. She swept her hand across her body, using the Force to redirect th
eir aim. Maser beams sprayed harmlessly past, filling the air with smoke, splinters, and heat.

  The leader was on Jaina instantly, his red eyes shining with hatred behind his helmet as he clubbed at her head with his rifle butt. She ducked, using the Force to pull him over her back and send him crashing into the trunk behind her.

  The other two Chiss arrived a step later, one bringing an armored knee up at her face. Jaina blocked with her blaster, at the same time squeezing the trigger and pumping fire into the stomach armor of her other attacker. The bolts ricocheted away and sent the soldier stumbling back, but not before he slammed the barrel of his own weapon down on the back of her head.

  Jaina found herself kneeling on the ground, her vision narrowing, her hands empty, and the deafening crack of the blow still echoing inside her skull. She tried to stand and felt the strength drain from her body.

  No!

  Zekk touched her through their battle-meld, pouring strength into her through the Force, urging her to stay conscious.

  Jaina fell flat to the ground—then unhooked her lightsaber and activated the blade as she rolled away, slicing both soldiers at the knees. They screamed and crashed down behind her. She felt her blade move and recoil as a maser beam crackled into it. Her vision cleared, and she found herself facing the first Chiss who had attacked her.

  She deflected the next shot back into his helmet visor, sending him tumbling backward over a mogo trunk. His body lay still and silent, the small plume of smoke that rose from it stinking of charred flesh.

  Jaina spun on a knee and found the other two Chiss lying on their bellies in front of her, groaning in pain as they struggled to prop themselves on their elbows and open fire. She used the Force to rip their weapons from their hands, then stood and raised her lightsaber to finish them off.

  Only the revulsion that Zekk poured into the meld stayed Jaina’s blade. She was still so filled with battle lust that she had not even realized she was about to kill the two Chiss in cold blood. It was happening again. She was surrendering to the rage that had consumed her after Anakin died—giving herself to war, with no thought to anything but vengeance and victory.

  Shuddering in disgust, Jaina deactivated her lightsaber and knelt next to the two soldiers. Her blade had cauterized their wounds, so they were not losing much blood. But they were both shivering and much too quiet. She rolled them onto their backs, then removed the first soldier’s helmet. His blue skin was covered with perspiration, and his red eyes were distant and unfocused.

  Jaina shook him by the chin, trying to bring him back to alertness. “Where’s your medkit?”

  The Chiss clamped a hand weakly over her arm. “Why?”

  “You’re going into shock,” she explained. “You need a stim-shot, or you’ll die.”

  “You?” the second soldier gasped inside his helmet. “Trying…to save us?”

  “Isn’t that what we just said?” Jaina demanded.

  “No!”

  The first soldier pushed her away, surprising her with his strength.

  “Don’t be afraid.” Jaina poured soothing emotions into the Force, trying to calm and comfort the pair. “The Colony will take care of you. We’ll even give—”

  The second soldier snapped a vape charge off his utility belt and pulled the activation pin. “We know what you’ll…do.”

  “Hey!” Jaina did not dare use the Force to yank the canister from his hand—the charge would detonate the instant he released the trigger. “You’re not getting this. The Colony is good to prisoners. You’ll hardly know—”

  “That your bugs are eating our insides?” The Chiss nodded to his companion, then said, “We’ll be waiting on the other side, Jedi—”

  Jaina sprang into a backward Force flip and tumbled away in a high arc, thumbing her lightsaber active again and batting aside a flurry of maser beams as she came down in the murky ribbon of a jungle stream.

  The vape charge detonated as she splashed into the water, a dazzling flash of white that tore the air itself, stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving her half blind, shaking, and confused. She was not all that surprised the two soldiers had refused to surrender—but the reasons they had given distressed her. Could they really believe the Colony fed its prisoners to its larvae?

  Jaina had no time to debate the question, for another cold shiver of danger sense was racing up her back. She brought her lightsaber up and spun around to block…and found the two Squib volunteers peering down the streambank at her, their dark heads and power blasters poking out from beneath the trunk of a fallen mogo.

  “Take it easy, lady,” the one on the left said. His muzzle was a little longer and sharper than that of his companion, who had a crooked streak of white fur tracing an old scar down one cheek. “We just came to see if you were still alive.”

  “Apparently so,” Jaina said. She lowered her lightsaber, but did not deactivate the blade. “Be careful. I sensed something dangerous up there.”

  “You don’t say?” Longnose exchanged glances with Scarcheek, then said, “Then I guess it’s a good thing we came along.”

  “Yeah,” Scarcheek agreed. “You’re real lucky to have us looking out for you.”

  THIRTEEN

  Deep beneath the new Defense Force command compound on Coruscant—already known among military personnel as “the Dark Star”—there lay a dozen planning facilities so secret that Luke had never officially been informed of their existence. At the moment, he was in PaAR Five—PaAR being the acronym for “Planning and Analysis Room.” That Cal Omas had actually summoned him—and Mara and Jacen—into one of the secret rooms, he took as a good sign. Perhaps the Chief of State was ready to put the trouble between the Jedi and the government behind them.

  Their escort led them along a dimly lit walkway past a projection pit displaying a three-meter hologram of the planet Thyferra. Around the edges of the pit were arrayed several banks of work stations where dozens of communications officers, intelligence analysts, and system operators labored to keep the information displayed on the hologram up to the minute. From what Luke could see, the situation wasn’t good. The green swaths of continental rain forest were speckled with colored lettering that showed the dispositions of various villages, forces, and facilities. The planet’s largest city, Zalxuc, and most of its villages had already turned red, indicating they were known to be under enemy control.

  At the end of the walkway, the Skywalkers and Jacen were admitted onto a secure command platform where Chief Omas stood poring over holofeeds with Admiral Pellaeon. Han and Leia were already there as well, studying a second bank of holodisplays along with a Vratix—one of the mantiform insects who inhabited Thyferra. When the guards announced their arrival, Omas pretended to be engrossed in a holofeed of the Thyferran rain forest, leaving a surprised Pellaeon to wave them toward the holobank.

  “Masters Skywalker, Jedi Solo, please join us.” Despite his aged face and bushy white mustache, Pellaeon—an ex-Imperial admiral—continued to look the part of the shrewd command officer he was. He gestured toward the insect at his side. “Do you know Senator Zalk’t from Thyferra?”

  “Only by reputation.” Luke inclined his head to the Vratix. “I’m sorry the Jedi weren’t able to prevent the coup on Thyferra, Senator Zalk’t.”

  Zalk’t scuttled over and greeted Luke by rubbing a massive forearm across his shoulder. “The fault was not yours, Master Skywalker.” His speech was filled with whistles and clicks. “Thyferra thanks the Jedi for their efforts on our behalf.”

  “As does the entire Galactic Alliance,” Pellaeon added. “Had the Jedi not responded so quickly, we would have lost far more than the Thyferra system.” He cast a meaningful glance in Omas’s direction. “Isn’t that correct, Chief Omas?”

  Omas finally tore his attention away from the holo and met Luke’s gaze. He looked even more careworn than usual, with ashen skin and bags beneath his eyes as deep as those of a Yuuzhan Vong.

  “Yes, it was a relief to find the Jedi servi
ng the Galactic Alliance for a change,” Omas said.

  “The Jedi have always served the Galactic Alliance, Chief Omas.” As Luke spoke, he was pouring goodwill into the Force. He could sense the anger that Omas’s comment had raised in Han and Leia and even in Jacen, and he could not allow this meeting to degenerate into a shouting match. “But the issues have not always been clear, and sometimes we have taken the long view without talking to you. I apologize for our mistakes.”

  Omas’s jaw dropped, as did those of Han, Leia, and Jacen. Only Pellaeon and Mara did not seem surprised—Pellaeon because the Galactic Alliance and the Jedi order clearly needed each other to deal with the Killiks, and Mara because she was the one who had suggested to Luke that it was the duty of the Jedi order to support the Galactic Alliance. Imperfect as it was, the Galactic Alliance remained the galaxy’s best hope for achieving a lasting peace.

  Omas finally recovered from his shock. “Thank you, Master Skywalker.” There was more suspicion in his words than relief, and he quickly turned back to the bank of holofeeds. “I trust the Jedi won’t find the issues too confusing today.”

  Almost all of the holofeeds showed a small squad of Killik commandos leading a few Vratix “tarheads”—insects addicted to black membrosia—into a village of graceful, multibalconied towers. The tarheads would enter one or two of the towers, then return with a few Vratix and present them to the Killiks, who did not even bother lining the prisoners up before spraying them with shatter gun pellets. Sometime during the process, the holo would usually show a Killik approaching the holocam, and the signal would go to static.

  “The traitorsss are bringing out the village anirs,” Zalk’t explained in his whistling Basic. “But the coup actually began in Zalxuc. Before we realized what was happening, tarhead traitors had slain our high canirs and their assistants, and the Killiksss were hunting down every noninsect in the city.”