Part 6 (2/2)
Grievous's eyes tracked the course of the now imperiled shuttle. Count Dooku and his Sith Master would never forgive him if he allowed anything untoward to happen to Gunray. Neimoidians were clever. Their knowledge of secret hyperlanes was unparalleled, and their immense army of infantry and super battle droids were rigged with devices that compelled them to respond princ.i.p.ally to Gunray and his elite. Should the Neimoidian chiefs die, the Confederacy would lose a powerful ally. It was time to spring Gunray from the trap he had fas.h.i.+oned for him.
”Launch tri-fighters to a.s.sist the shuttle,” Grievous instructed the gunners. ”Target and destroy the Republic starfighters outright.”
Deployed from the cruiser, a wing of the new red-eyed droid fighters was soon visible from the bridge viewports. Alerted to the approaching tri-droids, the Republic pilots had sense enough to realize that they were severely outnumbered. Disengaging from the last of the Vulture fighters, they began to make for free s.p.a.ce, the nearest habitable planets, wherever their sublight ion drives could deliver them, since their means of jumping to lightspeed had already been destroyed. Two of the starfighters were slower than the rest to disengage.
Calling for magnification of the shuttle pursuit, Grievous saw that the stragglers were newly minted ARC-170s, copiloted crafts equipped with powerful laser cannons at the tips of their outstretched wings and multiple torpedo launchers. He was eager to see what they were capable of. ”Instruct three squadrons of the tri-fighter wing to s.h.i.+eld the shuttle and escort it to our docking bay. Set the rest against the fleeing starfighters, except for the ARC-one-seventies. The ARC-one-seventies should be lured into engagement, without disintegration - - even if some of the tri-droids are forced to succ.u.mb to enemy fire.”
Grievous sharpened his gaze. The tri-fighters had split into two groups, the larger forming up around Gunray's impaired shuttle and pouncing on the retreating V-wings, while the diverted squadron began to tease the pair of ARC-170s into duels and sallies. What impressed Grievous was how quickly the pilots came to each other's a.s.sistance. Combat camaraderie hadn't been bred into them by the Kaminoan cloners, or been something they had learned from the Jedi. It had come from the Mandalorian bounty hunter. Fett would have denied it, of course, would have insisted that he was out only for himself. But that was not the way of his warrior brethren, and that was not the way of the clone pilots now.
Exaggerating the value of each life, as if the clones were uncontrived humans. Was the Republic so shorthanded it couldn't afford losses?
Something to bear in mind. Something that could be exploited at some point. Without glancing at the bridge gunners, Grievous said: ”Finish them off.” Then, turning to a droid at the communications suite, he added: ”See to it that the Neimoidians are ushered directly to the briefing room. Inform the others that I am on my way.”
Still shaken from the ordeal of transiting from the core s.h.i.+p to the Invisible Hand, Nute Gunray sat restively in the cabin s.p.a.ce to which he and Haako been shown immediately on disembarking. He had expected that a few Republic starfighters might pursue the core s.h.i.+p from Cato Neimoidia - - as they no doubt had other Trade Federation vessels launched to equally distant star systems in the Outer Rim. And he had hoped that the appearance of those starfighters would convey the impression that he had been chased from the Neimoidian purse world. But the scenario hadn't unfolded as planned. What should have been a quick, effortless crossing had ended up a flight for life, with the shuttle left seriously damaged and more than a squadron of Vulture fighters destroyed. It was almost beyond explanation until the shuttle pilot confirmed that most of the Vultures had been atomized by fire from the cruiser's turbolaser batteries.
Grievous! Castigating him for arriving late. Gunray would have liked nothing more than to inform Dooku of the general's actions, but he feared that the Sith would stand with Grievous. Every bit as shaken, Rune Haako sat alongside Gunray at the cabin's gleaming table. Other members of the Separatist Council occupied the choice seats: the almost two-dimensionally thin San Hill, Muun chairman of the InterGalactic Banking Clan; the Skakoan foreman of the Techno Union, Wat Tambor, encased in the c.u.mbersome pressure suit that supplied him with methane; the vestigial-winged Geonosian Poggle the Lesser, Archduke of the Stalgasin Hive; the stalk-necked Gossam president of the Commerce Guild, Shu Mai; the cranial-horned Corporate Alliance Magistrate, Pa.s.sel Argente; and former Republic Senators Po Nudo and Tikkes - - Aqualish and Quarren, respectively.
Separate conversations were in progress when the sound of clanging footfalls echoed from the long corridor that led to the briefing room.
Abruptly everyone fell silent, and a moment later General Grievous appeared in the hatchway, the rounded crown of his elongated death mask of a helmet grazing the top of the opening, his high-backed collar of ceramic armorplast reminiscent of a neck brace. Sheathed in metal more suited to a starfighter, his skeletal upper limbs were spread wide, clawlike duranium hands just touching the hatchway frame. His two feet, which also resembled claws, were capable of increasing his height by several centimeters. Legs of sleek alloy bones looked as if they could propel him into orbit. His campaign cloak, slit down one side from left shoulder to floor, was thrown back so that twin pectorals of armor plating were exposed, along with the reverse ribs that began at Grievous's hip girdle and extended upward to his s.h.i.+elded sternum.
Beneath it all, encased in a kind of fluid-filled, forest-green gutsac, were the organs that nurtured the living part of him. Behind helmet holes that rendered his visage at once mournful and fearsome, sallow reptilian eyes fixed Gunray with a gimlet stare. In a synthesized voice, deep and grating, he said: ”Welcome aboard, Viceroy. For a moment we feared that you weren't going to arrive.”
Gunray felt the gazes of everyone in the cabin fall on him. His distrust of the cyborg was no secret; nor was Grievous's enmity for him. ”And I can only a.s.sume that you were very troubled by the prospect, General.”
”You must know how important you are to our cause.”
”I know it, General. Though I confess to wondering if you do.”
”I am your keeper, Viceroy. Your protector.” Striding into the cabin, he began to circle the table, stopping directly behind Gunray, towering over him. Peripherally, Gunray saw Haako slouch deeper into his chair, refusing to look either at him or at Grievous, circling his hands in a nervous gesture.
”I have no favorite among you,” the general said at last. ”I champion all of you. That is why I summoned you here: to ensure your continued protection.” No one said a word. ”The Republic fools itself believing that they have you on the run, but, in fact, Lord Sidious and Darth Tyra.n.u.s have engineered this, for reasons that will be made clear soon enough. All is proceeding according to plan. However, with your homeworlds fallen to the Republic, your purse and colony worlds throughout the galaxy threatened, you are ordered to remain a group for the foreseeable future. I have been instructed to find a safe harbor for you here, in the Outer Rim.”
”What world will accept us now?” equine-faced San Hill asked in a disconsolate voice.
”If none offers, Chairman, then I will take one.” Grievous walked to the hatchway, his talons screeching along the deck. ”For now, return to your separate vessels. When a world has been selected, I will contact each of you in the usual manner, and provide you with new rendezvous coordinates.”
Careful not to betray his sudden misgiving, Gunray traded covert glances with Haako. The ”usual manner” meant the mechno-chair inadvertently left behind on Cato Neimoidia.
16.
A patchwork of dull red and pale brown, Charros IV filled the forward viewports of the Republic cruiser. The twin-piloted s.h.i.+p had been an antique twenty years earlier, but its sublight and hyperdrive engines were reliable, and with vessels deployed on so many fronts Obi-Wan and Anakin couldn't be choosy. The cruiser's once emblematic crimson color was obscured under fresh coats of white paint; as a result of the war, laser cannons were carefully tucked astern under the radiator panel wings, and forward, beneath the c.o.c.kpit, in the s.p.a.ce that had once functioned as a salon for pa.s.sengers. Obi-Wan had plotted the three jumps it had taken them to reach the Xi Char world from the Inner Rim, but Anakin had done all the piloting.
”Landing coordinates coming in,” Anakin said, eyes fixed on a display screen set into the instrument panel.
Obi-Wan was pleasantly surprised. ”That will teach me not to be skeptical. In the past when we've been informed that Intelligence has done the advance work, I've found that to be anything but the case.”
Anakin looked at him and laughed.
”Something funny?”
”I was just thinking, Here you are again...”
Obi-Wan sat back in his chair, waiting for the rest of it. ”I only mean that, for someone with a reputation for hating s.p.a.ce travel, you've certainly taken part in more than your share of exotic missions. Kamino, Geonosis, Ord Cestus...” Obi-Wan plucked at his beard. ”Let's just say that the war has prompted me to take a long view of things.”
”Master Qui-Gon would have been proud of you.”
”Don't be too sure.” Obi-Wan had argued against going to Charros IV.
Dexter Jettster, his Besalisk friend on Coruscant, could probably have furnished the Intelligence a.n.a.lysts with everything they needed to know about Viceroy Gunray's mechno-chair. But Yoda had insisted that Obi-Wan and Anakin attempt to speak personally with the Xi Charrian whose sigil had been discovered on the walking chair. Now Obi-Wan wondered why he had been so averse to making the trip. Compared to the past few months, the mission already felt like a furlough. Anakin was correct about Obi-Wan's having had more than his share of such a.s.signments. But several other Jedi had also doubled as Intelligence operatives during the course of the war.
Aayla Secura and the Caamasi Jedi Ylenic It'kla had taken a Techno Union defector into custody on Corellia; Quinlan Vos had gone undercover to infiltrate Dooku's circle of dark side apprentices... And Supreme Chancellor Palpatine hadn't been told - - or learned since - - about any of the covert operations.
It wasn't that the Jedi Council didn't trust him; it was more a matter of no longer trusting anyone.
”Do you think the Xi Char will talk to us?” Anakin said.
Obi-Wan swiveled to face him. ”They've every reason to be accommodating.
After the Battle of Naboo, the Republic refused to do any business with them, for their having supplied the Neimoidians with proscribed weapons.
They've been eager to atone ever since, especially now that their signature designs are being ma.s.s-produced more cheaply by Baktoid Armor and other Confederacy suppliers.”
The Xi Char's princ.i.p.al contribution to the Neimoidian a.r.s.enal had been the so-called Variable Geometry Self-Propelled Battle Droid starfighter, a meticulously engineered solid-fuel craft that was capable of configuring itself into three separate modes.
Anakin adopted a thin-lipped expression of wariness. ”I hope they won't hold it against us that I destroyed so many of their fighters.”
Obi-Wan laughed shortly. ”Yes, let's hope your fame hasn't spread this far into the Outer Rim. But in fact, our success hinges almost entirely on whether TeeCee-Sixteen can speak Xi Char as fluently as he claims.”
”Master Ken.o.bi, I a.s.sure you that I can speak the tongue almost as well as an indigenous Xi Charrian,” the protocol droid chimed in from one of the c.o.c.kpit's rear seats. ”My term of service to Viceroy Gunray demanded that I familiarize myself with the trader's tongues used by all the hive species, including the Xi Char, the Geonosians, the Colicoids, and many others. My fluency will ensure complete cooperation on the part of the Xi Char. Although I expect that they will be rather disgusted by my physical appearance.”
”Why's that?” Anakin asked.
”Devotion to precision technology forms the basis of Xi Char religious beliefs. They accept as a matter of faith that meticulous work is no different from prayer; indeed, their workshops have more in common with temples than factories. When a Xi Charrian is injured, he goes into self-exile, so that others won't have to look upon his imperfections or deformities. A Xi Char adage has it that 'The deity is in the details.'”
”Wear your flaws proudly, TeeCee,” Anakin said, raising and clenching his right hand. ”I do, mine.”
The cruiser was descending into Charros IV's ice-clouded atmosphere.
Leaning toward the viewport, Obi-Wan gazed down on an arid, almost treeless world. The Xi Char lived on high plateaus, hemmed in by ranges of snowcapped mountains. Expansive black-water lakes dotted the landscape.
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