Dark Tide 1: Onslaught (18 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Anakin crouched in the lavender grasses and peered through them at a small group of Dantari. The native nomads did not appear all that unusual. Humanoid in form, they used a limited vocabulary of spoken words supplemented with hand signals and facial expressions to communicate. They made tools, but had not yet found the secret of working metal. A couple of them did have knives formed from shards of AT-AT armor, but Anakin had never seen the knives being used for anything. He gathered they were a sign of power, since both were owned by large males whose hair was streaked with gray.

For a half second the boy wished C-3PO was there so he could translate the Dantari speech, but the image of the gold droid hiding in the grass was ridiculous enough that he almost laughed aloud.

The Dantari had made camp in a small clearing near a stand of blba trees. One of the elder males had drawn a charcoal design—the Imperial crest—on the upper left side of a younger male's chest. Using a blba thorn and a stick with which to strike it, the elder began to drive the coal-black ash into the younger male's chest, tattooing the design there forever.

The young Dantari was not the only one to be sporting that crest. Others had crude AT-ATs tattooed on them, or images of blasters, or the outlines and seams of stormtrooper armor marking their legs and arms. Small children sat and watched in fascination as the tattooing took place. Elders looked on pridefully as the youth said nothing during the tattooing process.

Anakin looked away and tried to shut the
tick-tick-tick
of stick hitting needle out of his mind. He glanced over at where Mara sat and caught her in an unguarded moment looking very tired. He glanced down immediately, then looked up again. By that time she had composed her face into an expression less haggard and much warmer.

That I could see her looking tired indicates how tired she must truly be. She'd never have let me see her like that if there was any other way around it.
Anakin gave her a smile and crawled quietly over to her side. “I would never want to get a tattoo,” he whispered.

“Best to avoid identifying marks, I think.” She glanced slyly at him. “Never can tell when any of those Jedi will be after you and you want to slip away.”

“You don't have a tattoo, do you?”

“I don't know, Anakin.” Mara shrugged playfully. “A Jedi caught me, after all, so maybe I do.”

He started to ask a question, but thought better of it and closed his mouth for a moment. “More than that answer I don't want to know.”

Mara laughed, once, sharply, then covered her mouth with her hand. Anakin reached out through the Force, not sure what he could do, and immediately saw the damage had been done. Several of the Dantari were moving toward them, with three young boys in the lead, and an elder male charging up to get between them and whatever had made that sound.

Without thinking, Anakin shot to his feet and interposed himself between the Dantari and Mara. The male coming toward them towered above Anakin, easily half a meter taller than he was, almost broader across the shoulders than Anakin was tall, and outmassing him by nearly sixty kilos. Shock widened Anakin's blue eyes for a moment, then he lowered himself into a crouch and bared his teeth.

The charging Dantari male came up short. He raised massive fists above his head and bellowed, but Anakin stood his ground. He didn't ape the motion; he'd learned enough from watching the Dantari to know that would have been a challenge to a dominance fight. Most Dantari confrontations involved the largest male frightening his foe off, and never had Anakin seen a Dantari as small as he was stand his ground before an elder male.

Still keeping his eyes locked on those of the male, Anakin dropped down on his haunches and rested his elbows on his knees. He knew he could have gathered the Force to himself and compelled the Dantari male to do the same thing, but he left the Force alone. In the week they'd been on the planet, he'd been relying less and less on the Force, and while his body ached and blisters had formed and popped, he did feel good doing things for himself.
The Force is an
ally,
not a crutch. If I learn nothing else from this experience, that will be enough.

The Dantari male bellowed again, but Anakin did not react. He just sat and stared, keeping his body between Mara and the male. The male leaned forward on his fists for a bit, then sank to his haunches, too. Behind him the younger Dantari did the same thing.

Anakin kept his voice a low whisper. “Okay, I have him seated and quiet. Now what do I do?”

“Take this.”

Anakin reached his left hand up to his left shoulder and accepted a small metal disk from Mara. He noticed her fingers were cold as he did so. Then he got a look at the button she'd given him, and a smile blossomed on his face. “I hope this works.”

“Pity it only has the New Republic crest on it, not the Imperial one.”

“It's shiny, so worth a try.” Still watching the elder, Anakin leaned forward and got on his hands and knees. He crawled forward, stretching out to halve the distance between them. On a bare patch of ground he placed the button from Mara, then retreated and resumed his crouch.

The elder moved forward slowly, cautiously, and reached out a hand toward the silver button. He extended a finger and slowly poked it. He recoiled instantly after touching it once, with the little ones leaping back and screaming as he did so. He crept forward again and sniffed, then touched it a second time. After a half-dozen touches, each lasting longer than the first, he picked up the button and stared at it, utterly enraptured.

Anakin glanced back over his shoulder at Mara. “Might need more buttons if we have to bribe a bunch of them.”

Anakin's aunt smiled and tugged at the wrist of her right sleeve. “A couple more on the cuffs. If we have to go more than that, I'll get cold.”

“Let's hope we don't get there.”

Anakin looked back at the Dantari elder and found him trying to fix the button to a side-lock braid. The Jedi smiled at the Dantari, and the elder returned the smile. The Dantari then turned and galloped back to the encampment, scattering squealing children and earning some sharp-tongued rebukes from the females in the group. He grabbed something from a fabool-hide pouch, then scampered back to where Anakin sat. He opened his hand above the spot where the button had lain and dropped five white tubers, not much longer than Anakin's thumb.

The young Jedi knew they were vincha roots. He didn't know what the Dantari used them for, but he'd seen the Dantari get very excited when they found the plant and were able to dig up the roots. Anakin hadn't seen many of the plants around, so he took the offering to be very valuable as far as the Dantari were concerned.

Anakin smiled and held his hands up, with palms facing the Dantari. “Thank you, but I can't take these.”

The elder looked at him, puzzled for a moment, then ran off and returned with another handful. He dropped them one by one on the pile, doubling its size. He hung on to each one longer than the last, and Anakin could sense the pain of his giving them up.

“Help here, Mara?”

“You got yourself into this, you figure it out.”

“It was your laugh.”

“It was
your
joke.”

“Point taken.” Anakin scratched at the back of his head with his left hand. “Okay, the button is more valuable to him than ten of the vincha roots, and I bet he'd go five more.”

“That could be why some of the females are over there hiding the rest of the inventory.”

“Right. He wants a fair exchange. Matter of pride and honor, I'd guess.”

Mara patted him on the back. “Right course plotted, I think.”

“Then I need to barter vincha roots back for something else, right?”

“Could be, that will work.”

Anakin nodded. He waddled forward and gathered up the vincha, then brought them back to where he had been sitting. He got up and jogged off to the side to gather up some deadfall limbs from a blba tree. He returned and made a small pile of them. He pointed at the elder Dantari, the pile of sticks, and then back to the bluff where he and Mara had their camp. Finally he tossed one of the vincha roots back to the elder.

The elder grabbed the root, then pointed at the pile of sticks and up at their camp. Anakin nodded. The Dantari smiled, then turned on his heel and ran back to the small band he traveled with. He jabbered at them quickly and gesticulated wildly, brandishing the vincha root proudly. The Dantari band all started shouting and leaping about, getting carried away in a joyous frenzy.

Anakin scooped up the rest of the roots and put them in his pocket. He stood and helped Mara to her feet. “I don't think we want to be here if they decide we should join in on the fun, you know?”

“I concur.” Mara draped an arm over his shoulders and leaned on him for support. “You did well there.”

“And didn't use the Force once.”

“Right, though you
did
manage to get out of having to gather firewood.”

The two of them chuckled lightly as they walked along. Anakin made certain to keep his pace slow so Mara wouldn't tire. They lapsed into silence for a bit. Anakin stopped by some rocks that marked the beginning of the steep ascent to their camp and let Mara lean against one of them.

He swiped a hand across his brow. “I don't know about you, but I'm tired.”

Mara gave him a quick smile. “You're very kind to say that, but you know I'm—”

“Aunt Mara, it's okay.”

“I'm the tired one here . . .” The effort of saying those words seemed to take a lot out of her. “Tell me if I get to be a burden for you.”

Anakin adamantly shook his head and swallowed hard against the lump rising in his throat. “Never, Aunt Mara, you'll never be a burden.”

“If your mother was here, she'd be proud of how polite and mannerly you are.”

“If my mother was here, she'd have negotiated a treaty for this planet to join the New Republic, getting it all for a handful of vincha roots.” Anakin sighed, then looked up into Mara's green eyes. “I know you're not feeling well. I know it's a fight for you, but you keep fighting. I can't tell you how much that impresses me.”

He flashed for a moment on the fact that his father, in his grief, had scarcely drawn a sober breath.
Why can't you be more like Aunt Mara, Father?

Mara stared at him and through him. “There are times, Anakin, when things overwhelm us. There are times when you can't fight.”

“But you are still fighting. You're being brave.”

“It's because I know what I'm fighting. Others may not be able to identify their enemy, so they can't fight.”

My father's enemy is me.
That thought sent a shiver through Anakin, but another thought followed on its heels.
Or, perhaps, his enemy is the guilt that he's assumed. If only things had happened another way.

Mara eased herself off the rock and leaned into him again. “Ready to make it up the hill?”

“After you, Mara.”

“Together, Anakin, together.”

That evening the elder Dantari brought a big pile of blba branches. He returned with a second armload, and Anakin gave him a second vincha root. The Dantari retreated into the darkness, then a frenzied round of hooting and hollering began from the distant Dantari camp.

Snapping a branch in half, Anakin fed it into the fire. “Well, they're happy.”

“Indeed, it sounds as if they are.” Mara nodded, the shifting shadows cast by firelight hiding the weariness on her face. “You did well.”

“Thanks. I think so, too.”

And Anakin continued to think so until the next morning when he found the elder Dantari waiting for him in the camp as he awoke. The Dantari sat perched in the middle of a ten-meter-long blba log. The elder wore a grin like that of a Hutt that had a fix in on a Podrace, and extended an empty hand in Anakin's direction.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Gavin didn't pause in the doorway of the office that Admiral Traest Kre'fey had been given on Dubrillion. He rapped on the jamb with his knuckles and swept into the room. He was a couple of steps in when he glanced up from his datapad and actually saw two other people in the office with the admiral.

“I'm sorry, Admiral, I didn't realize you were busy.” Gavin pulled himself to attention and saluted.

The Bothan returned the salute. “It is not a problem, Colonel Darklighter. I believe you know Lando Calrissian and Leia Organa Solo.”

Gavin felt himself blushing. “We have met, yes, but I don't know them . . .” Lando and Leia had been heroes of the Rebellion along with his cousin Biggs. He had been a child when he'd first heard of them and had even developed a crush on Princess Leia. While he was well past that feeling, meeting them again reduced him to a little boy who felt like an impostor just being in the room with them. “I can come back, sir.”

Kre'fey shook his head. “No, no need for that.” The Bothan pointed to the holographic display of data and tables. “The Agamarian ships that arrived when we did have been moving people off planet with their shuttles. The Yuuzhan Vong are doing nothing to stop them, so we assume they will strike as the refugee convoys start to move out. Rogue Squadron is going to have to keep them off us.”

“I've been working on that, Admiral.” Gavin glanced at his datapad. “I've got a full squadron of X-wings ready to go, and Dubrillion's population has a large number of uglies that they've modified for running the asteroid belt and then armed. They should give us as much as a wing of fighters.”

Lando smiled confidently. “The pilots here are good. They'll keep the Yuuzhan Vong off the convoy.”

“I'm sure they will. What concerns me, though, is that only a handful of those uglies have hyperdrives. We'll need to have a ship capable of recovering the pilots and their ships heading out last. Rogue Squadron can keep the Vong off while the fighters are being recovered, then we can jump out ourselves.”

Kre'fey stroked the snowy fur of his chin. “I had assumed the
Ralroost
would be the last ship out. We will recover the fighters.”

Leia frowned. “We're loading refugees on the
Ralroost
. If it is the last ship out, the Yuuzhan Vong will concentrate on it. Do you want to take that risk?”

The Bothan snorted quickly. “
Want
to take the risk? No. Do I think we have no choice? Yes.” He leaned forward on the table upon which the holoprojector had been set. “We already know, even despite the generosity of the Agamarians in sending all the ships they have, that we can't save everyone here.”

Gavin looked past the admiral to the ravaged cityscape. After the squadron had been recovered, Kre'fey had acceded to an Agamarian request that the
Ralroost
escort a convoy of ships to Dubrillion. Gavin actually believed that Kre'fey had engineered that request, which brought his ship into a theater where contact with the Yuuzhan Vong could not possibly be denied by Coruscant. When the convoy arrived, the Yuuzhan Vong did send a half-dozen fighters to harry some of the ships, but the X-wings had beaten them back without getting blooded themselves.

In the four days since the convoy's arrival, the Yuuzhan Vong had done little beyond staging raids that seemed designed to test the response time of the X-wings and other fighters the
Ralroost
had brought along. Gavin felt certain his every move was being watched and cataloged. He'd not felt this vulnerable since before Grand Admiral Thrawn had died at Bilbringi.

The people of Dubrillion had faced the impending invasion with a stoicism that stunned Gavin. In light of the fact that everyone couldn't be saved, families were being asked to make hideous choices about who would be allowed to live and who would be left behind. The best and brightest of Dubrillion's children, along with historians, artists, and cultural leaders were being culled and processed for transport to Agamar. Children from the same family were split up to prevent the loss of a line in the event a particular ship did not make it. Mothers let children go, lovers were parted, grandchildren said tearful good-byes to relatives they knew they would never see again.

Kre'fey continued. “The people of Dubrillion have made their hard decisions. For me to avoid one that is just as difficult would mock their heroism. I won't do that.”

Leia nodded silently, imbuing that silent acknowledgment of Kre'fey's words with nobility and pain. “I'll be on the
Ralroost
, then.”

The admiral shook his head. “With all due respect, I think you should travel with Senator A'Kla in his ship.”

Leia smiled. “I would have, but I think you'll find the senator has demanded room on the
Ralroost
for himself and his traveling companions. He's given the
Fond Memory
to pilots who have already made a run to Agamar and are back for another group.”

“Then it will be my pleasure to have you on board.” The admiral straightened up and glanced at Gavin. “Is there anything else, Colonel?”

Gavin extended the datapad toward him. “I've found the pilots I need to fill out Rogue Squadron. I took the liberty of looking over the records of the fliers who've made asteroid runs here. I'm taking the best of them—of those who are still available.”

Leia held her hand out. “May I see the list?”

The admiral nodded, so Gavin handed her the datapad. Leia studied it for a moment, then glanced up. “My daughter isn't on the list.”

“No, Princess, she isn't.”

“Why not? She was the best pilot to run the asteroids.” Leia knew that Jaina was restless, annoyed with her recent assignments, and eager to contribute. Jaina would be outraged if she were not chosen as a Rogue Squadron pilot because she was Leia's daughter. And they were all in danger now, whatever their assignments.

“I know that, but she's too young.”

The princess's chin came up and her eyes narrowed. “Correct me if I am wrong,” she said in a tone that made it obvious that she knew she wasn't, “but my daughter is the same age you were when you joined Rogue Squadron, Colonel Darklighter.”

A wave of heat passed over Gavin as his face flushed red. “That's true, yes, but those were desperate times—”

“And these aren't?”

“They are, but—”

Leia let some of the edge drain from her voice. “Let me ask you, Gavin, if one of your sons was one of the best pilots, would you deny him a spot in the squadron?”

“Don't ask me that.” Gavin's stomach began to twist itself into knots. “I've flown against the Vong. I know how nasty they can be. I'm not sure if
I'll
survive getting out of here. I don't want to have to subject anyone's
child
to getting killed out there. And especially
your
child, Princess. You've already done more than your share of sacrificing for the New Republic.”

Leia took a step toward him and laid a hand on his shoulder. She looked up into his eyes and gave him a brave smile. “Gavin, you and I both know that the people who are capable of dealing with trouble never really get a chance to pass, to rest, to live a normal life. People like us assume responsibilities so other people don't have their lives ruined. We can wish it was otherwise, but it won't happen.”

She handed him the datapad. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am that you wanted to safeguard Jaina; but by letting her fly, we can safeguard someone else. She's a wonderful pilot, she can fly an X-wing like no one else,
and
she's a Jedi. The Force might be less effective against the Yuuzhan Vong, but if she picks up that one of your other people is in trouble, she can be there to help.”

Gavin swallowed past the lump choking him. “Two of the top pilots in the squadron's past were from Corellia and Alderaan, so having someone whose blood comes from both will probably be good. Do you want to tell her, or shall I?”

“You should tell her, Colonel.” Leia smiled proudly. “I think being told of this assignment by her mother would tarnish it somewhat.”

“You have my word, Princess, that she will be well taken care of.”

“I know, Gavin. May the Force be with you.”

“Rogue Eleven, check in, please.”

Jaina blinked and kind of jumped in her cockpit seat when she realized the comm call was for her.
I'm in Rogue Squadron!
The realization had a surreal aspect to it because, as she grew up, the part of her uncle's life that had gone before his becoming a Jedi Knight had receded into the dim past. While Luke was acknowledged as the founder of Rogue Squadron, Wedge Antilles and the other pilots in it had really defined the squadron and made it a legend.

Even though she knew she was a good pilot, she didn't think she was good enough to join the squadron, especially not at her age.
Still, desperate times require desperate measures.

“Rogue Eleven, check in. If your comm unit is giving you trouble, raise a hand.”

Jaina keyed her microphone. “Sorry, Nine, I'm all green here. Good to go.”

“Have to be alert out there, Sticks. No spacing.”

“As ordered, Nine.” Jaina grinned, enjoying the fact that she'd already been given a call sign. She knew it came from the fact that her X-wing had a control stick, and she carried a lightsaber, which the pilots derided as another stick.

Gavin's voice crackled through the comm channel. “All Rogues, head out. We rendezvous at point Angel-One. Orient 342 mark 55 and go to station keeping.”

Jaina double-clicked her comm unit to acknowledge the command, then fed power to the repulsorlift coils. The X-wing came up smoothly and hovered very still while she retracted the landing gear. She glanced over at the observation deck windows and thought she saw her mother flanked either side by Elegos and Lando. She gave them a big thumbs-up, then as Rogue Ten moved out of the hangar, she nudged the throttle forward and trailed after her squadron mate. Once out of the hangar, she pulled back on the stick and boosted her throttle full forward, rocketing the X-wing toward the asteroid belt waiting above.

Jaina still felt the way her flesh had puckered when Colonel Darklighter came to her and offered her a position in Rogue Squadron. Rogue Squadron had been the people who liberated Coruscant from the Empire. They'd helped break up the Bacta Cartel. They'd been part of Grand Admiral Thrawn's defeat and played a key role in ending the long struggle with the Empire. As much as her uncle, mother, and father might have been heroes of the Rebellion, the Rogues became a symbol, a collection of heroes that most people could identify with. While she loved her family and cherished being a Jedi Knight, being asked to join the squadron was something that she'd earned, not something granted to her by her ability with the Force or the reputations of her parents.

As she reached the rendezvous point, Jaina glanced at her primary sensor screen. The Rogues were set up midway between the asteroid belt and the Agamarian convoy. Other squadrons of fighters, made up of old TIE designs and a plethora of uglies, formed up behind Rogue Squadron. At the very end of the convoy sat the
Ralroost
. A couple of last shuttles were coming up from the planet to board the Bothan Assault Cruiser. By stretching out with the Force, Jaina could feel her mother and Danni on board one of them.

They left the planet safely. Now we have to get them out of the system safely.

“Rogue Lead, I have movement on my scanners.” Rogue Four's voice dominated the channel for a moment. “At 271 mark 30.”

Jaina ruddered her fighter around in that direction and felt a chill run down her spine. “By all that makes a Hutt ugly . . .”

A Yuuzhan Vong warship drifted slowly down from the asteroid belt, with little coralskippers buzzing around it like flies on carrion. The ship itself would have matched an Imperial Star Destroyer in length, but, being something of an ovoid shape, certainly massed a great deal more. The ship's flesh alternated in strips of smooth, glassy, black rock and rougher, craggier patches that housed pits, which she assumed were weapons emplacements and homes for the dovin basals that propelled the ship.

Near the nose, along the spine, and at the aft of the ship grew huge, long coral arms of deep red and dark blue. Coralskippers dotted these arms like buds on a plant. Jaina assumed that some of the larger, unoccupied holes in the arms housed plasma projectors, and judging from their size compared to the coralskippers, a blast from one of them could easily burn a snubfighter from the sky.

The lead ships in the convoy started to move out. They used Dubrillion's gravity well to let them build up some speed, then came about on a course that would let them make the first jump in the journey to Agamar. They weren't going directly, since they had no desire to lead the Yuuzhan Vong to that world. More importantly, by stopping at a way point and shifting to a new course, they'd cut days off the single-jump trip.

The coralskippers that had been orbiting around the big ship formed into squadrons and began their runs at the convoy. Combat traffic controllers on the
Ralroost
started designating squadrons as targets and fed attack orders to the various Dubrillion squadrons nearest them. Jaina studied her sensor monitors intently, watching as little lights representing fighters moved forward, split apart, and in the midst of fierce dogfights, suddenly winked out of existence.

After what seemed like an eternity, but really was all too soon, Gavin's voice broke through the low-level chatter on the comm channels. “Rogues, we have been given the target designated Rock-One. Keep moving fast, do as much damage as you can. Everyone look out for everyone else.”

Jaina's R5 droid, a maroon and white model, uttered a low moan.

“What's the matter, Sparky?”

The droid tootled and splashed the target on her primary monitor.