"My brains and your skill-"

"Now you're really talking like a fighter pilot!" They shook on it.

It took them two agonizing days to find the caves. The small amount of water they had was exhausted by the time they reached the shelter, and they were on the verge of dehydration. But at least crawling into the shadowy coolness of the caverns spared them the devastating effects of the broiling sun.

"We've got to find water," Odie gasped.

"You're telling me?" Erk croaked. "Let's rest here awhile in the cool, then we can look for a way down into the caverns. There should be water here somewhere. Do you know how extensive these caves are?"

She shook her head. "No. We stopped here once on a routine recon mission, but n.o.body was interested in doing any exploring."

They lay resting for a time before regaining enough strength to start the search. Odie produced a brilliant white signal flare from a pouch on her equipment belt to light their way. "This'll burn for twenty minutes," she told Erk over her shoulder as they walked carefully over the rock-strewn floor. "Then we'll have to switch to some other color."

"Make sure you save some so we can find our way back."

The piercing flarelight cast their shadows huge on the walls around them, like grotesque cave creatures picking their way along.

"Hold it!" Erk shouted suddenly. "Move your light over here." He indicated a patch of rock that appeared darker than its surroundings. He ran a hand over it. "Moisture! Water's seeping through this rock. We're in business." A little farther on, the narrow pa.s.sage widened abruptly into a huge cavern.

"Hey!" Odie shouted. Her voice echoed off the chamber walls. She held the flare high over her head. "I can't even see the ceiling. This place is huge."

"Listen!" Erk held up a hand. "Listen. I hear running water! Can you hear it, Odie? There's an underground stream down there."

The cavern floor sloped gradually downward, and as they worked their way toward the bottom, the wonderful sound of running water came distinctly to them from somewhere ahead, where a cool stream of fresh water fed into a deep pond before rushing off to disappear deeper into the cavern. Odie jammed the flare between two rocks and flung herself bodily into the pool; Erk followed her immediately. They drank themselves dizzy on the glorious, life-giving liquid.

They lingered in the caves for two days, recuperating, "We have to move on," Odie said on the evening of the second day, "if for no other reason than we're out of food."

"What say we start out at first light tomorrow?" Erk suggested. "We'll ride until it gets too hot and then rest until late evening. We can cover some ground during the night if there's enough starlight to see by. How long do you think it'll take us to get to the communications center?"

"Two, rnaybe three days? The terrain's mighty rough out there, and we had to detour a bit to get here. Can we survive on two liters of water for three days? All we have to carry it in is this canteen."

"We'll have to. We've got your speeder-that'll save us expending all our energy on walking. We'll take it easy, conserve body fluid as much as possible. Odie, there's nothing you and I together can't do!"

He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

Her face turned even redder than usual, then she turned and kissed him full on the lips. They held the embrace for a long moment.

"Ah," Erk said at last, "what'd I tell you? You're the best wing-mate a fighter jock ever had!"

After a moment, Odie said, "I wonder if any of our people survived..."

"I'm sure some did. Come on, let's get some sleep." They lay close together for a long while, not speaking, thinking instead about what might lie ahead of them. Just before he dropped off to sleep Erk turned to Odie. "Maybe we're the only two left alive on this blasted rock, but we're going to stay that way, right?"

"Absolutely," Odie answered. She snuggled closer to Erk's warmth.

7.

But they weren't alone-not quite.

"Just like those parsimonious fools," Zozridor Slayke remarked to one of his officers. "The Republic Senate has always been foolish about defense spending. They leave a strategic place like this to be defended by only a small garrison. What do you expect the Separatists to do, eh? Sit on their hands?"

"The Republic forces are spread thin, sir," the officer replied, shrugging. "Do we go in now?" He grinned at his commander and leaned forward expectantly. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

Zozridor Slayke grinned back. "And give them the surprise of their short lives? You bet. a.s.semble my commanders."

The atmosphere was tense in the wardroom oi Phoriod Bodkin, as it always was before going into battle-but there was no nervousness. The officers gathered around the battle charts were charged with the antic.i.p.ation of action, like a group of Cyborrean battle dogs waiting to be released by their handlers.

Zozridor Slayke himself, however, was relaxed, as he always was. Standing a full head above his officers, a mixed group of humans and nonhuman sentients, he would never be mistaken for anything but the leader. It wasn't just his unadorned, long-sleeved, military-style tunic with the high collar, the standard officer's uniform in his army, it was also the body language of his officers-each leaning expectantly toward him, eagerly antic.i.p.ating his words. Slayke projected the confidence of a man who knew he was in charge and knew what he was doing, and his officers-and every soldier in his fleet down to the lowest ratings-knew it, too.

"Mighty crowded out there-" Slayke gestured at the holographic chart of the s.p.a.ce lanes around Praesitlyn and Sluis Van. This comment generated some laughs among his officers. "They outnumber us at least four to one."

He made the comment as if he were merely remarking on the brightness of the stars flickering on the chart. "Well, now that we're here, does anyone have a plan?" He looked around expectantly.

"B-but, sir! We thought you did!" a man standing next to him blurted out, feigning horror. At this everyone burst into loud laughter. They all knew that Zozridor Slayke definitely had a plan. And they all knew him well enough that they did not need to be told the essence of that plan: attack, attack, attack.

Slayke let them enjoy the moment, then held up a hand for quiet. "Let's see, at last report they had one hundred and twenty-six ships in a cordon around Sluis Van, am I right?" He nodded toward his intelligence chief, who confirmed the figure. "That's bad," he continued, "because the Sluissi will be occupied defending their own world. But the Separatist fleet will also be busy with its cordon. That's good, because those ships won't be able to interfere with us. The enemy commander has divided his forces. That's good, too. And the Separatists don't know we're here...

yet-that's even better." The way Slayke emphasized the word yet, resulted in more good-natured laughter among his officers.

He pointed a finger at the display of the Sluis sector. "He has about two hundred ships in orbit around Praesitlyn, many of them capital ships.

Now, that's bad." He stroked his short black beard thoughtfully, then rubbed a forefinger beneath his nose and pulled on his earlobe, as if not sure what to say next. He nodded again at his intelligence chief. "Your reconnaissance drone reports a big droid army down there."

"Yessir. They seem to have defeated the defense force and have taken the Intergalactic Communications Center, as well. I estimate, from the number of transports on the ground and the quant.i.ty of equipment deployed, that the army tops a million battle droids. They mean to stay there awhile, sir."

"Well, then. They outnumber us. That's very bad," Slayke said. "But they're only droids! That's good." More laughter.

"Sir, they have managed to block all communications to and from Praesitlyn," Slayke's chief communications officer said. Slayke only nodded. "We have to a.s.sume," the communications officer continued, "the Republic doesn't know what's happened. I don't know how they managed that-it must be new technology. The blasted Trade Federation's got billions of credits sunk into research, so it's not unlikely. At least our communications are unaffected, until we get down on Praesitlyn, anyway."

"Those idiots in the Senate," Slayke murmured as though to himself, "will lose this war yet." He leaned with both hands on the edge of the display and focused on the enemy ships around Praesitlyn, bright little blips so numerous that they resembled an asteroid belt around the planet. "We are the only force within striking distance," he said. "You all know the importance of Praesitlyn to the Republic, to our homeworlds, our friends, our families." He paused, then said quietly, "Here's how we're going to do it."

Slayke's fleet was small in comparison to the one he was about to attack, consisting of CloakShape fighters, gun tugs, and Phoenix Hawk-cla.s.s light pinnaces. His capital ships consisted of several Carrack-cla.s.s light cruisers, Corellian corvettes, gunships, and Dreadnaughts. While his ground forces were only fifty thousand strong, they were highly trained, highly motivated, and equipped with armored vehicles, Bespin Motors Storm IV twin-pod military cloud cars, and a full array of supporting arms. The great advantage of this small force was that it was an integrated combined-arms force of infantry, air, armor, and artillery, operating under a carefully thought-out but flexible battle plan. Moreover, Slayke's commanders were officers whom he trusted completely to take tactical initiatives in fluid battlefield conditions.

A reasonable person might think it utter insanity to use a force as small as Slayke's to attack Tonith's army. But Zozridor Slayke was not always a reasonable man.

He turned to his officers and held up his fist. "We go in like this-" He rammed his fist toward the chart. "A huge armored fist. We'll concentrate all our forces on one sector in their cordon, hit them with everything we've got, and blast open a hole to land the army. It's going to be real hot for our ships in orbit," he added, nodding at his captains, "but we'll be counting on you to keep their orbital fleet off balance. Once we're on the ground we'll close with the enemy and grab him by the belt, hold him tight. That way his fleet won't be able to attack us without fear of hitting his own forces. Our initial attack will be a total surprise to him, and it'll take some time for him to recover. We'll exploit that surprise and cut right through." He paused. "We're about to cross a bridge, and once over, we're burning it behind us. It's do or die."

They all knew that. Once on the ground, Slayke's army could not be reinforced if things went badly. Failure was just not an option. But Slayke was no overconfident fool.

"I have dispatched a message to Coruscant," he continued, "requesting reinforcements." He shrugged. "Perhaps they can spare a Jedi or two."

This also caused laughter: everyone knew how much Slayke despised the Jedi.

"Well, look at it this way, sir," an officer in the back of the compartment said. "We won't have to share the glory with them!"

"Well said! Before they can get here to mess things up, we'll have some fun with those metal soldiers down there. Now, what do you think?"

"Ooooorah!" the officers shouted, stamping their boots in unison on the deckplates.

"You will have your operations orders before you get back to your ships,"

Slayke announced. But they were not yet dismissed.

This was Zozridor Slayke's great moment. He had risked everything, even became an outlaw with a price on his head, to get to this place with this army at this crucial instant in time. He saw himself now as the fulcrum of history.

Slayke drew himself up to his full height. He addressed his officers-many, he knew, for the last time. These soldiers had been recruited from all over the galaxy, and they had risen to positions of trust and authority in this small army through courage, devotion, and demonstrated ability. "Remember who you are!" he shouted. The last word echoed through the compartment. "What you are about to undertake is not done for fame or reward or ambition; you are not compelled into this fight by necessity like slaves! We go into battle now out of simple duty to our people."

Slayke paused. The wardroom had fallen completely silent. There were tears in some eyes-all of which were focused on their commander. Slayke took a deep breath. When he spoke again he raised his voice to its full timbre, and it rang from the bulkheads: "Freedom's Sons and Daughters expect every person to do his duty!"

Odie and Erk didn't get far from the caves before once again the ground beneath and the air about them heaved and reverberated to the sounds of battle, this time somewhat farther away.

"General Khamar must be counterattacking," Odie said, removing her helmet.

Erk pulled aside the ground sheet that he was using to protect his face from windblown sand particles and searched the sky. "I don't think so.

Look!" He pointed to the north where, just above the horizon, bright fingers of flame lanced down from the heavens. The sky there suddenly exploded in brilliant flashes followed seconds later by a deep rumbling; one of the flame pillars descending toward the ground blossomed into a brilliant chrysanthemum of fire. "Ships are landing!" he shouted. "One was just hit. It's a relief force-Coruscant's sent a relief force!" He threw his arms around Odie and impulsively kissed her on the cheek.

Odie was so surprised-and pleased-she didn't know how to react, so she blurted out quickly, "Sergeant Maganinny said recon troopers always ride to the sound of the guns. Shall we?"

"Turn this thing around and let's go!"

But when Odie depressed the foot pedal, the speeder's motor only whined feebly.

"Out of power?" Erk hoped he didn't sound as worried as he felt. He hopped off the speeder so that Odie could access the power-cell compartment housed in the rear.

"No," she answered, a concerned expression on her face. "And these things are usually maintenance-free."

"Here, look at this." Erk pointed to a small hole in the housing cover.

He felt the hole with a finger. "You've been shot. Feel the edges around this hole: it was burned through."

"I-I did have a run-in with some enemy troopers," she said, popping the cover. She grimaced and looked away. The compartment was full of grit, and the power cell was coated with sand heat-fused into gla.s.s. As they stood looking down into the compartment, the cell gave a little pop! and a thin tendril of smoke rose upward. "That's it," she said. "We're foot-mobile now." She stepped back and looked down at her speeder for a moment, then began to cry.

"Hey!" Erk laid a hand on her shoulder. "Were okay. We'll make it."

"It's not that." Odie shook her head. "It's-it's my speeder!"

"Oh," Erk said, mentally kicking himself. "I should ve known," he muttered. "A recon trooper and her speeder, a pilot and his fighter." He shrugged. "Come on, trooper, we're both widows now.

Odie smiled through her tears. "It's stupid but, well, you know, that speeder and me..." She threw up her hands.

"How far do you think we are from the center?"

"Maybe seventy-five or one hundred kilometers?"

"Can we make it on foot?"

Odie shook her canteen. "If we can conserve our water." They had both drunk as much water as they could hold before starting out from the caves in an attempt to tank up for the long journey ahead of them, but they had been figuring on riding Odie's speeder, not walking.

"Do you know where there's any water along the way?"

Odie shook her head. "We'll look as we go." She popped open the storage compartment beneath her seat and began to withdraw items they'd need on the trek.

"We just have everything going for us, don't we?" Erk said wryly.

"Well, I hope those bug stompers you're wearing will hold up." Odie gestured at her own heavy boots, standard issue for reconnaissance troopers, who needed such footwear to protect their feet and legs from brush, stones, and debris. Erk's boots were much lighter and didn't look very st.u.r.dy.

"With me as your copilot, we've got it made," Erk replied as, bowing, he bade her lead the way.

"We are what" Tonith shrieked, jumping to his feet and spilling some tea down the front of his white robe when his chief of staff told him they were being attacked. "By whom? Full details," he demanded, recovering some of his composure.

"Apparently, sir, we were being shadowed by another force. They couldn't have come from Coruscant or Sluis Van, and they had to be small to avoid our detection-'

Tonith impatiently waved a hand at Karaksk. "Get on with it." Already his mind was working. He didn't like surprises, but one had to deal with them. By the time the Bothan finished with his report, his fur was continually rippling, but the worse the news became, the calmer Tonith grew.

"Sir," Karaksk ventured, "I believe you should have stayed with the fleet. The ships are being thrown into confusion." As soon as he uttered those words he regretted them and almost cringed at the angry outburst that he was sure would follow.

Tonith held up a hand. "No, the issue shall be decided here, not in orbit." He paused, and Karaksk sighed with relief that the admiral had let his remark pa.s.s. "Very well," Tonith went on, as though talking to himself. "They are much smaller than our force; they are behind us. Here is what they'll do: they will attempt to close with us as soon as possible, get close enough so our ships in orbit won't be able to fire on them for fear of hitting us. We should expect a flexible battle plan and plenty of individual initiative-they'd have to have that, and boldness, to attack us like this." He raised a bony forefinger and waggled it at the Bothan. "There is a fine line between boldness and fool-hardiness.

Let's see how we can turn that against them. Begin fortifying our positions immediately. We'll let them attack us all they want. When their strength is depleted, that's when we'll counterattack."

Carefully, Tonith recovered his teacup. He shook out the few remaining drops and methodically, in a well-practiced gesture, poured more of the steaming liquid. From close by came the rumble of fighting. He grinned, revealing his purple-stained teeth. "Ah, a challenge," he said, sipping the tea. "Very interesting, very interesting indeed."

The one factor Zozridor Slayke hadn't counted on was Pors Tonith.

8.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine made a series of calls, one of them to Senator Paige-Tarkin.

Senator Paige-Tarkin had never seen the Chancellor looking this worried, HoloNet transceiver image or not. His hair appeared even grayer than it did in person, and his face was more lined by worry. She felt a genuine surge of pity for the great man. She had watched him carefully since his a.s.sumption of emergency powers to deal with the Separatist threat, and she believed the cares of public service in this crisis were wearing the poor man down.

"This is a matter of the utmost urgency," he said. "I need to see you at once."

"We can't discuss it now?" she asked. "I'm expecting dinner guests."

"No, I am afraid this venue is not secure for what we have to talk over."