Republic Commando_ Hard Contact Part 18

There was one way out and that was through the gap he'd smashed in the fence.

It wasn't covert. A human in an overall was standing open-mouthed in his path, and Niner knocked him flat on his back as he ran full-tilt for the hole in the mesh.

He had about a minute to put distance between himself and the ground station before he blew the charges. At twenty klicks an hour, that meant he'd be about - Fierfek, just do it.

Niner was past the first line of trees and into long gra.s.s when he dropped and pressed the remote det in both hands.

Teklet was a sudden ball of light. Then the roar of air and the shock wave shook him. He crouched as debris rained down on him, hoping-really hoping-that Katarn armor was all that it was cracked up to be.

Ghez Hokan was the first to admit that it was taking a lot less to get him irritated lately. He'd waited long enough. He tapped the comlink console impatiently.

"I asked to be out through to CO CISCom ten minutes ago, di'kut."

"I realize that, Major. He'll be with you as soon as he's free."

"Enemy forces have infiltrated and I need to speak to your commanding officer. Do you understand what we have on Qiilura? Could you possibly s.h.i.+ft your di'kutla shebs long enough to find out why this is so vital to the war?"

"Sir, we have Republic troops infiltrating more places than I care to name right now, so-"

The screen flickered and broke up in noise. Hokan switched to another channel and got the same crackling, s.h.i.+mmering display. It was the same for every channel he tried. His first thought was that someone had disabled his receiver. They were closer than he'd thought, and a lot more daring. He put on his helmet and edged cautiously down the pa.s.sage to the exterior door, his Verpine shatter gun in one hand and a hunting vibroblade in the other.

The droid sentry stepped aside to let him pa.s.s. On the roof, the comm relay was intact. Hokan took out his personal comlink and called Hurati.

All Hokan could hear was the chatter of static. It struck him that the Republic troops might well have done what he would have, faced with the same target.

"Droid, can you make contact with your fellows?"

"Affirmative sir."

The droids had their own comlink system. They could communicate instantly on any battlefield. What they didn't need was the main relay at Teklet in order to do it.

"Can you contact Lieutenant Hurati?"

The droid paused for a few moments. "I have him, sir."

"Ask him if he has any news of Teklet."

Pause. A much longer pause.

"Large explosion seen in the direction of Teklet, sir."

It's what I'd do if I was preparing an a.s.sault, Hokan thought. I'd render my enemies blind and deaf.

There was nothing he could do on the ground to deal with an invasion, if one was coming. There was a Republic a.s.sault s.h.i.+p in Qiilura s.p.a.ce, and that didn't bode well.

He had two options for his immediate task. He could defend Uthan's project-the technical knowledge invested in her and her staff, and the nanovirus itself-or, if he was overrun, he could prevent it falling into enemy hands to be studied and neutralized.

It was a big planet. If he had to run, they'd have to find him. In the meantime, he'd sit tight and wait for them to come.

"Tell Hurati I want every functioning droid back here now," Hokan said. "We're digging in."

12.

Coruscant Command to Republic a.s.sault s.h.i.+p Majestic, Qiilura Sector Cruiser Vengeance will RV with you at 0400. You have clearance to intercept any vessel leaving Qiilura s.p.a.ce, prevent landing by non-Republic vessels, and engage any vessel failing to comply. Have biohazard containment standing by.

Niner struggled to his feet and stared back at the ground station.

It wasn't there anymore. Neither were the few small huts scattered along the approach road. There was billowing smoke and fires burning, including one that looked as if it were a blowtorch. Another explosion made him s.h.i.+eld his head, and more debris peppered his armor.

Apart from that, the area was silent. He set off through the trees again, feeling as if he'd been picked up and shaken hard by someone really angry. A small pack of gdans began chasing him, snapping on his leg armor, but they caught on fast that he was going to be impossible to eat and fell back. He opened his long-range comlink for the first time in days.

"Niner here, anyone receiving?"

He could hear his own breath rasping as he ran. He was down to a stumbling jog now and feeling the reality of his exhaustion. He'd take a stim or two later. He had to.

"Sarge? Fi here. Target acquired, then."

"Wow. P for plenty."

"You sound busy."

"On my way to the RV."

"You're running."

"You bet. Sitrep?"

"Had to dump the droid and cache a lot of stuff. But the Weequay can carry a surprising amount if you ask him nicely. ETA an hour or so."

"Call Darman, in case Jinart hasn't caught up with him yet."

"Copy that. ETA?"

"Depends. Looking for transport right now."

"You sure about that?"

"You can do fast or you can do covert. Right now fast looks good to me. Out."

Niner kept close enough to the road to hear vehicles. He needed a speeder. The mangled cha.s.sis of a personal transport of some kind was upended at the side of the road, testimony to the force of the blast.

Eventually, someone would show up to take a look at the damage. Then he'd have his chance.

After a few minutes Niner was starting to see intact buildings through the trees. He was nearing the farthest edge of the blast zone. Farther ahead he could see lights coming toward him, and his visor told him they were approaching fast. He dropped down into the cover of the gra.s.s. As they got nearer, he could pick out one landspeeder and a speeder bike.

Niner couldn't face walking back into the blast zone to take one. He'd have to stop them here. And he'd have to stop them with minimum damage, or else he'd still be hiking back to the RV point.

He aimed his rifle on sniper setting and waited until the landspeeder was within three hundred meters. It didn't surprise him that it wasn't an emergency vehicle. He could see the driver clearly: a Trandoshan. They didn't have a record in humanitarian public service. He was probably rus.h.i.+ng to see if his slave traffic had been affected by the blast. The speeder was carrying a Trandoshan as well.

Niner squeezed gently, and the bolt shattered the land-speeder's screen. The vehicle veered right off the road, spraying mud and gravel in the air, and the speeder bike swung left and pulled up dead. For a moment the rider hesitated, instinctively looking around in the dark as if unsure what had happened, but then he appeared to work it out just as Niner's second bolt caught him full in the chest. The speeder bike hung motionless a meter above the ground.

There was a lot to be said for night-vision visors.

Niner ran from cover and swung onto the speeder, catching his pack on the back of the seat. He savored the moment. Taking the weight off his feet ranked near the top of the list of primeval human needs, along with a long drink of ice-cold water. The relief was wonderful.

A good night's sleep and a decent hot meal would have rounded it off perfectly. The sooner he got back to his squad and finished the job in hand, the sooner he'd be able to indulge. He steered the speeder into the woods and headed south with newly uplifted spirits.

Pinp.r.i.c.ks of light formed a small constellation ahead of Etain. They might have been a kilometer away, or they might have been within arm's reach: she couldn't tell by sight alone.

But she could certainly smell their breath. It was a cloying, sickly scent of raw meat. She swiped her lightsaber across the entrance to the shelter, and the gdans scattered. She had tried using the Force to persuade them to bother someone else, but it only succeeded in making them more curious, although they had stopped trying to take bites out of her.

How do you do it, Jinart? How do you keep them at bay? She sat huddled under the covering Darman had constructed and listened to the water working its way down through the leaves. The rain had stopped, but the runoff was still trickling through and plopping on the sheet of plastoid above her head. She could hear again, at least in one ear.

She could also see very clearly. What she saw was the face of the Umbaran she'd almost decapitated with her lightsaber. Panic and fear had pushed the event from her mind, but now that she was quiet and tired, it flooded back and wouldn't go away.

Etain tried to meditate for the first time in days, shutting out the irritating drip of water on her head. Darman prowled around outside, silent and unnerving. She could feel him ebbing and flowing; anxious, even a little scared, but focused and devoid of violence or inner conflict.

She wanted to ask him how he achieved that balance. They had both been raised in complete isolation from the everyday world, with their own set of values and disciplines, not because they had been chosen to be different but because they had been born that way. Their calling was random, genetic-unfair. He'd obviously succeeded brilliantly; she had failed in equal measure. She let the sensation of his clarity wash over her.

It was almost soothing. Then it was suddenly gone and a wave of pure exhilaration hit her like a body blow. Darman thrust his head through the entrance to the shelter.

"They're coming," he said. "My squad's on its way." He paused as if he was listening to something, his glove held against the side of his helmet. It was odd to watch someone so obviously delighted without having the slightest idea of his facial expression. "An hour or so. Niner's taken out the comm station at Teklet. Fi and Atin have acquired a bit more gear that'll come in handy. Plus a prisoner." He paused again. His head was moving as if he was talking. He appeared to be able to switch back and forth between being audible and inaudible to her, as if his helmet was a separate environment into which he could retreat at will. "A Weequay, of all things. Oh well, they've got their reasons."

He was utterly still for a few moments before nodding vigorously. He eased off his helmet and his face was one broad grin, aimed at nothing in particular.

"They're all right, I take it," Etain said.

"They're fine."

"I'm glad. You're brothers, right?"

"No, not really."

"All right, you're clones."

"They're not my original squad," Darman said. His expression was still all delight and good humor. "My brothers were all killed at the battle of Geonosis, and so were theirs. We didn't even know each other before this mission. But three of us had the same training sergeant, so I suppose we feel like family. Except Atin, of course."

It was an extraordinary statement. Darman showed not the slightest sign of being wounded by his recent loss. Etain knew little of biological families, but she knew that losing Master Fulier would still hurt badly in three months' time, and even in three years. Perhaps they'd bred grief out of clones, too.

"You don't miss your brothers, then."

Darman's grin slowly relaxed. "Of course I do," he said quietly. "Every day."

"You seem to be taking it... calmly."

"We know we're likely to get killed. If we dwell on that, we won't be any use to anyone. You just get on with it, that's what our old training sergeant used to say. We're all going to die sometime, so you might as well die pus.h.i.+ng the odds for something that matters."

Etain wanted to ask him what mattered to him about the Republic's cause. She was almost afraid to, but she needed to know.

"What do you think you're fighting for, Darman?"

He looked blank for a moment. "Peace, ma'am."

"Okay, what do you think you're fighting against?"

"Anarchy and injustice." It was a rote response, but he paused as if considering it for the first time. "Even if people aren't grateful."

"That sounds like your training sergeant, too."

"He wasn't wrong, though, was he?"

Etain thought of the locals who had betrayed them to Hokan's men. Yes, she'd learned a lot about the reality of conflict in the last few weeks. But it still wasn't enough.

"It's getting light," Darman said. He sat down cross-legged in the hide, armor plates clacking against something. "You look cold. Need any more painkillers?"

Etain had achieved a consistent level of dampness and pain that she could live with. She was too tired to think of doing anything else. She'd even stopped noticing the persistent odor of wet merlie wool. "I'm okay."

"If we light a fire we'll be a magnet for half the Separatist army." He rummaged in his belt and held out a ration cube to her, still that incongruous amalgam of fresh naivete and utterly clinical killer. She shook her head. He pulled out a bag. "Dried kuvara?"

She realized from the way he had put the fruit carefully in his belt and not in his pack that he prized it. He lived on rations with all the taste appeal of rancid mott hide. The sacrifice was rather touching; she'd have plenty of time to gorge herself on the galaxy's varied foods, provided she got off Qiilura alive, but Darman wouldn't. She managed a smile and waved it away. "No. Eat up. That's an order."

He didn't need encouraging. He chewed with his eyes closed and she felt desperately sorry for him; yet a little envious of his delight in ordinary things.

"I know a good way to warm up," he said, and opened his eyes.

Etain bristled. Maybe he wasn't as naive as he seemed. "You do?"

"If you're feeling up to it."

"Up to what?"

Darman made a wait-and-see gesture with one raised finger and got up to go outside. No, Etain thought, he wouldn't have meant that at all. She was suddenly embarra.s.sed that she'd even imagined he might. She stared at the backs of her hands, suddenly appalled at their abrasions and broken nails and general ugliness. A roughly trimmed pole was thrust into the shelter. She jumped. She didn't need any more surprises.

"If that's supposed to be funny, Darman, I'm not laughing."

"Come on, commander." He peered down the length of the pole. "Lightsaber drill. Let's do it now before you have to for real."

"I just want to rest."

"I know." He squatted down and stared at her. "I don't know much about swords, either, but I'm trained in hand-to-hand combat."

He didn't move. His persistence annoyed her. Actually, it suddenly angered her; she'd had enough. She was exhausted, and she wanted to sit numbly and do absolutely nothing. She jumped to her feet, s.n.a.t.c.hed the pole, and ran at him.