Clone Wars Gambit: Siege (31 page)

L
OK
D
URD LEANED FORWARD
, reached over the driver’s seat backrest, and slapped at KD-77’s metal arm. “What are you dawdling for, you stupid machine? Drive faster! I want to see where that woman’s up to with my weapon.”

The droid turned its head, revealing a flare of orange photoreceptors. “I am driving at the permitted speed limit, General.”

“Do I look like I care about speed limits? Do you think speed limits apply to
me?
” If he didn’t need the droid he’d rip its insolent head off. “
Drive faster!
”

“General,” said KD-77, and increased the groundcar’s speed.

Slumping in his seat, Durd folded his hands over his belly.
Stupid droid
. Feeling rankled and hard done-by, he brooded through the groundcar’s armored side window at Lantibba’s dark, empty streets. Stupid droid, stupid Barev, stupid everything.

I am too important to be suffering like this
.

“I cannot believe that barve of a colonel tried to argue with me about sending the rest of his super battle droids to Torbel,” he said. “I cannot
believe
he stood in that spaceport and told me
to my face
that his security needs supersede mine.
What
security needs? The spaceport’s in no danger—General Grievous is seeing to that. No,
I’m
the one in danger, with those two Jedi still on the loose. I tell you, Kay-Dee Seventy-seven, he wants them to escape Torbel. He wants them to
kill
me. Don’t you think so?”

“It is a plausible scenario, General,” said the droid.

This time he rapped his knuckles on the back of KD-77’s head. “It’s not plausible, you idiot. It’s a fact. Colonel Barev is plotting to destroy me. But he’ll fail. They always fail. Because
I
am Lok Durd.” He pressed his nose to the window beside him. “I can’t see a thing out there. How far to the compound?”

“Eight hundred and forty-two me—”

But the rest of the droid’s answer was lost in a brilliant red-and-white explosion that lit up Lantibba’s night sky in a false and burning dawn.

KD-77 slammed the groundcar to a halt.

“What was that?” Durd said. His voice was squeaking like a grub’s, but he didn’t care.
It wasn’t the compound. It can’t have been the compound
. “Get out! Get out and tell me what that was!”

KD-77 idled the groundcar to stationary hover and got out. It was so obedient. If only Barev would follow orders with the same mindless alacrity.

After a moment, Durd activated the window and stuck his head out. “Well, droid? Don’t just stand there!” Then he coughed, because the cold night air was full of smoke and stink. “What’s going on?”

The groundcar’s headlights bleached KD-77 from dark red almost to white. It turned, its photoreceptors eerie, its metal body backlit by plumes of smoke and leaping flames.

“General, the compound has been destroyed.”

Hive Mother protect me. The Jedi
.

“Kay-Dee Seventy-seven, get back here!” he shrieked as bile rose choking into his throat. “Drive me back to the spaceport! Hurry!
Hurry!
”

They passed two emergency response vehicles on their return journey. Durd stared at them, his stomachs churning. Only two? Was that how little Barev counted his safety?

I could be dead right now. A matter of minutes and I’d have been in the compound when it blew. I could be scattered across Lantibba in pieces. And would Barev care? I’ll lay short odds he wouldn’t
.

He felt sick enough to vomit. This was a disaster. His compound—his weapon—his captive scientist: all gone. When Count Dooku heard the news he’d be furious, he’d—but no.
No
. He had to stay calm. Panic wasn’t the answer. He had to
think
. There was a way out of this. There was always a way out.

The weapon’s not all destroyed. I can delay the attack on Bespin and retrieve a sample. I can kidnap another scientist to
rework the formula. I can recover from this. I will recover from this. Barev, on the other hand…

Ignoring the human Separatists in the spaceport security complex, Durd ordered KD-77 to kick in Barev’s office door.

“
Barev!
” he snarled, marching into the room. “Explain to me how you let this happen!”

Jaw dropped, the human stared. “Durd! You’re alive!”

Idiot
. “Obviously. Disappointed, Colonel?”

“What? You’re blaming me?” Barev leapt up from the chair behind his desk. “You think
I
had something to do with your compound’s destruction?”

He sneered. “Not directly. You don’t have the guts. No, the Jedi did this—but since you’ve failed to capture them then yes, I
do
hold you responsible!”

“The
Jedi?
” said Barev, incredulous. “The Jedi are still trapped in Torbel, you fool. This is
your
doing, Durd! Through ignorance or incompetence—probably both—you ignored safety protocols and jeopardized an entire city sector. Believe me, I’ll be making a full report to Count Dooku and telling him what a useless
joke
you are, and—”

Fingers fastened tight around Barev’s convulsing throat, laughing aloud at the terror in his ashen face, Durd dragged the human across the desk until their foreheads were almost touching.

“Barev,” he said softly, “I’m afraid you won’t be telling Count Dooku
anything.
”

Watching the life drain out of Barev’s pale, ugly eyes was a visceral pleasure.

Letting the body drop, Durd snatched up a comlink from the office’s console and tossed it to KD-77. “Make sure that’s secure, then raise General Grievous for me.”

The droid was a communications genius. Moments later it gave the comlink back to Durd.

“Grievous, this is General Lok Durd,” he said, staring at the stinking pile of flesh and bone that had been Colonel Barev. “My safety cannot be guaranteed on Lanteeb. I am coming to you, with urgent information for Count Dooku. I believe he’s ordered you to cooperate with me fully? Good. Then stand by to receive my ship.”

Without giving the disgusting creature a chance to reply, he disconnected the comlink and looked at his droid.

“And I think that’s that.”

KD-77’s photoreceptors flared. “What about the Jedi, General?”

He smiled. “What about them? They’re not going anywhere. I’ll send Grievous to collect them once those Republic ships are taken care of.”

“An excellent idea, General,” said KD-77. “But I would be remiss not to point out that Grievous has been known to fail.”

True. Durd felt his face twist with revulsion. “Then I’ll give the order to kill them. Either way, droid—the Jedi are dead.”

O
BI-WAN WAS TRYING TO SNATCH
a few minutes of sleep when he was jolted upright by a familiar but totally unexpected presence.

Taria
.

“Obi-Wan,” said Greti, and stopped rolling the bandage she held. “Are you greensick?”

He’d given up trying to send the child home. “No. I’m fine. Greti, put the bandages away and get some sleep.”

“You look funny,” she said. “Are you sure it’s not greensick, you are?”

He clambered to his feet, every muscle and bone protesting. “I said I’m fine. Now do as you’re told.”

“But—” Pouting, she slumped on her cot. “Where are you going?”

“Not far. Just into the street. I need some fresh air. Come and get me if a patient wakes.”

Nights were long on Lanteeb. Plasma blasts splattering against Anakin’s shield lit up the persistent darkness in fits and bursts. The bombardment’s
boom
and
blat
shuddered through his bones, but he hardly noticed it. After all this time he’d grown numb to the angry sound.

Taria? Are you there?

He felt the Force stir, sluggish.

Taria
. So it hadn’t been a dream.
Taria
. But something was wrong. At least, more wrong. She felt drained, and full of pain. Worried for him.

I’m still breathing. Taria—

He felt what she wanted to do: Force-sprint her way through the massed droids and into the village. It was precisely the kind of mad plan Taria would dream up. And it just might work, but he’d need Anakin’s help.

Seeking him in the Force, flinching at the physical cost of even so small a use of it, he found his former apprentice on the other side of the village, replacing a length of wiring in Shield Generator Three.

One look at him and Anakin was scowling, furious. “Obi-Wan? What are you
doing?
You
swore
you’d—”

“Be quiet,” he snapped. “Taria’s here and she needs to get in. If you power down Generator Seven, just for a moment, I’ll hold off the droids.”

Anakin stared at him, his face thin enough now to be the face of a stranger. “You’re not kidding. Right. Guess I’ll come back to this.”

They pushed themselves into a jog and followed the shield perimeter to Generator Seven. For the first time in days, Obi-Wan looked at the droids on its other side. Thirty of them in this section, steadily blasting away. He felt a hot rage rise.

Anakin glanced at him. “I know.” Then he peered through the shield and past the droids. “I can’t see her, Obi-Wan. Or feel her. Are you sure Master Damsin’s—”

“Quite sure. Stand by the generator.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin murmured, and did as he was told.

Centering himself, Obi-Wan pulled his lightsaber from the inside pocket of his filthy, tattered shirt and ignited the blade. Clean blue light sliced through the bombardment’s red glow.

Taria? Here
.

He felt her energy burst through the Force, heard Anakin’s swiftly indrawn breath as he felt it, too. And then there was a chatter of mechanical alarm and battle droids were flying pell-mell into the air, Force-pushed like so many unwanted dolls.

Now, Obi-Wan! Now!

“Now, Anakin,” he said, and braced himself, lightsaber lifted.

Anakin cut the generator. First came a whining growl; then a section of plasma barrier collapsed. The scattered droids regrouped and opened fire.

“Obi-Wan!” said Anakin. “Let me—”

“
No,
” he said, knocking blaster bolts aside to left and right. “Stand by that shield!”

He felt Taria Force-sprinting toward him, but he still couldn’t see her. She must’ve been way behind the lines. Another eruption of droids. She was pushing and sprinting, the crazy woman.

Hurry, Taria, hurry. I can’t hold them much longer
.

His lightsaber felt so heavy. He’d used up nearly all his strength in the sick house, poured it into the bodies of the men and women and children he didn’t want to die. Vision smearing, he heard Anakin curse, felt a sting of pain in him.

“It’s nothing, it only singed me! Obi-Wan—”

“I know, I know,” he gasped, struggling to stay on his feet, fighting to deflect the barrage of laser bolts. “She’s nearly here—nearly—”

Then he saw her, stumbling out of her Force sprint into ordinary running, all her strength used up, just like him. Full of desperate intensity, just like him. Taria, who shouldn’t be here… and somehow was.

As she crossed the shield perimeter a blaster bolt caught her high in the back. She cried out and went down hard, skidding face-first across the dirt and grass.

“
Taria!
” He dropped his lightsaber and lunged for her. “Anakin, get the shield up!”

But Anakin didn’t need telling. Generator Seven was already humming back to life, a fresh flow of plasma particles resealing them inside the village. Then at the last moment a cloud of mosquito droids slipped through the swiftly closing gap and descended on them in a swarm.

“I’ve got them!” shouted Anakin. “You look after Taria!”

On his knees beside her, Obi-Wan watched as Anakin snatched up his dropped lightsaber with one hand and ignited his own weapon with the other. The twelve mosquitoes attacked—and within heartbeats he’d slashed them all to scrap metal.

Obi-Wan turned back to Taria, so still on the cold, hard ground—and his relief surrendered to a raw and shocking grief.

No, no, not like this. It’s too soon. Taria—

“Hold on,” he begged her. “I’m with you. Don’t go.”

He felt Anakin close behind him. “Obi-Wan, is she—”

His fingers were pressed to the pulse in her throat. He felt her blood, moving. Felt his eyes sting. “No. She’s alive.”

Groaning, Taria half rolled over. “Don’t worry,” she wheezed. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. The bodysuit’s a present from Senator Organa. Experimental. New energy-dispersal fabric. I’m a little singed, but not perforated.” Another groan. “Help me sit up.”

Obi-Wan slid his arm beneath her and lifted. When she was upright she let out a long sigh, then smiled at him. “Why, hello there, handsome. What’s a nice boy like you doing on a backworld like this?”

Pent-up rage and terror exploded through him. “
Taria—
”

“Don’t shout at me, I’m slightly wounded,” she said, then smiled past him at Anakin. “Greetings, Master Skywalker. Or can I call you Skyguy?”

Anakin dropped to one knee, still holding both deactivated lightsabers. “Call me anything you like, Master Damsin, provided you tell us what’s going on.”

The air boomed and echoed as the thwarted droids emptied their blasters against the plasma barrier. Eyebrows raised, Taria stared at them.

“Tell me that shield’s going to hold, first.”

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. “It’ll hold.” He took back his lightsaber and tucked it into his shirt. “Taria, please. What are you
doing
here?”

“The very short version?” She winced, easing her right shoulder. “Durd’s compound’s destroyed. His stockpiles of bioweapon are gone with it, blown to smithereens.”

“What about Durd?” said Anakin.

“The barve’s still in one piece,” she said. “He wasn’t there.”

Anakin’s disappointment was palpable. “Then where is he? And where’s his pet scientist Doctor Fhernan?”

Obi-Wan tried to check the blaster-hit in Taria’s back, but she pushed his hand away, impatient. “Durd’s somewhere on Lanteeb. As for Bant’ena Fhernan—I’m sorry. She’s dead.”

“
Dead?
” Anakin stared at her. “You blew her up with the compound?”

Taria’s face was full of sorrow. “No, she blew herself up. Anakin, all she cared about was making sure you and Obi-Wan were safe. And—she wanted to make amends.”

Obi-Wan exchanged glances with Anakin, then sighed. “So, you left the explosives with her and came after us? Taria—”

“It was her choice, Obi-Wan. I honored it.”

Of course you did
. Taking her hand, he checked the thready pulse in her wrist. “We’ll talk about it later. What else is—”

“There are more droids on the way,” Taria said grimly. “With a lot of ammunition. My guess is they’re right behind me.”

“Stang,” said Anakin, and pressed fingertips to his eyes. “Master Damsin, you picked the wrong time to make a house call.”

Still holding Taria’s hand, Obi-Wan could feel the bright hot pain of the blaster hit. And there was something beneath it, something darker and deeper… ruthlessly devouring her.

Oh, no
.

“Obi-Wan,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s all right.”

No, it wasn’t. But his grief and anger would have to wait. “Tell us the rest.”

He and Anakin listened in growing alarm as she filled them in: Chandrila and the widespread panic following the attack, how Mace Windu’s battle group was hopelessly outnumbered, and how one of the greatest scientists in the Republic couldn’t create an antidote to Durd’s bioweapon.

“There’s some kind of missing biosequence,” she said. “That’s what Yoda said, anyway. Something to do with neutralizing the raw damotite. I don’t really understand it. All I know for certain is that Doctor Netzl is stuck. We’re all stuck and—” The look on Anakin’s face stopped her. “What?”

Anakin’s eyes were fierce. “Obi-Wan—are you thinking what I’m thinking?”