Jedi Trial (27 page)

The droid’s voice had been programmed to sound like that of a young human female, and to hear the melodic tones spouting off artillery jargon was so unexpected that Odie began to laugh.

“I believe you are amused and I am pleased if I have in any way caused you to transition to that mode,” the droid said. “But I have not yet finished my list of capabilities, for I was created and programmed to be a military protocol droid, which means I can function perfectly from the level of company clerk to battalion adjutant. I am an expert at running duty rosters for staff duty officer/duty noncommissioned officer; sergeant of the guard; corporal of the guard; guard mount; company charge of quarters and company runner, kitchen police, escort detail for fallen comrades, and refresher orderly; I am an expert at preparing morning reports and all types of personnel actions; I can maintain company punishment books or prepare charge sheets for summary, special, and general courts-martial and I can also act as recorder for those proceedings; I know the uniform regulations of every army in the galaxy as well as their awards and decorations manuals, and can prepare awards recommendations from letters of appreciation to the highest awards for heroism a world can bestow; I can prepare supply requisitions for every piece of clothing and equipment, ordnance, and weaponry authorized by tables of organization and equipment or tables of allowances; I can
manage company funds; I can do everything, in short, required of a company clerk, company first sergeant, battalion sergeant major, or battalion adjutant. I can do all that in addition to arranging to demolish everything within fifty kilometers of where we are now sitting.”

“Well, if you’re so good, why aren’t you over there arranging something?” Erk asked with a nod toward the bustling FDC staff.

The droid didn’t reply immediately. “My commander, the incomparable Colonel Gris Manks,” it confessed at last, “has declared me … 
negatively uncooperative
, is how he put it.”

They waited patiently for the droid to explain, but it just sat there staring at them. “Well, what does he mean by that?” Odie asked.

Again the droid didn’t answer immediately. Then it bent close to the two and lowered its voice. It actually swiveled its clamshell head to see if anyone was close enough to hear. “It’s not working,” it whispered.

“What’s not working?” Erk asked in a normal voice.

The droid made hushing motions with its hands. “Shhh. I don’t want to go back to doing duty rosters,” it whispered. “We do not have the proper mix of artillery pieces to conduct this campaign effectively. We do not have a sufficient quantity of indirect-fire weapons. We are attacking uphill, as it were. That requires the ability to conduct parabolic fires, not line-of-sight fires. Laser and ion cannons are wonderful weapons, but they fire line-of-sight. We can’t use the batteries on board the ships in orbit because there would be too great a risk of destroying the Intergalactic Communications
Center and all the noncombatants; we can’t send in fighters to attack from the air because the enemy’s air defense array is too powerful. Did you hear the barrage we mounted last night? All the really potent fires had to be directed against the forward edge of the mesa occupied by the enemy. It was the mortars that did whatever real damage was done.”

“You mean like grenade mortars?” Odie asked.

“Yes!” the droid answered enthusiastically.

“But those are light-infantry, direct-support weapons with short ranges, aren’t they?”

“Yes, the standard versions, but Captain Slayke had two full batteries of self-propelled heavy mortars constructed that have a maximum range of fifty kilometers. They can drop shells with warheads weighing up to one thousand kilos on targets on the reverse slopes of hills. You see,” the droid said, leaning forward and tapping Odie on her knee, “proper employment of artillery requires the proper integration of all available fires. That’s what an FDC does. To obtain maximum effectiveness from artillery, the fires must be coordinated to bring the most accurate and potent destruction on any given target in the Tactical Area of Responsibility, and that means the proper kind of artillery must be used. Of course, the mounted mobile mortars that accompany front-line infantry are not necessarily included in the FDC’s menus because they are designed to operate independently, to give close support to targets of opportunity opposing the ground troops. But everything else an army relies on to bombard troop concentrations and fixed installations must
be coordinated, and that is what I do.” It leaned back and tapped its chest proudly.

“So why are you, ah, in trouble?” Erk asked.

“Because I told Colonel Manks he should have told Captain Slayke to invest in more large mortars.”

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to tell your commander,” Odie said.

“Yes,” the droid answered, “but I thought it my duty to tell him that more than once. I told him fifty-two times, to be exact.”

“Ah. I understand that could be trying. Why didn’t he follow your advice?”

“Because, he said, one mixes weapons to cover all expected contingencies, and going too far with one weapons system at the expense of another would ‘unbalance’ our arms inventory.”

The three sat silently for a while. All around them the FDC hummed with activity. “Things are not going well for us,” the droid said at last. “We are calling off the attack.”

“Calling it off?” Erk asked in disbelief.

“Yes, the attack on the enemy’s flank has failed and he is holding fast.”

“Now what?”

“We should put more artillery on him, enough so that he will go away,” the droid answered. “I know. I am a modified military protocol droid. I have been modified to operate effectively at battalion-, regimental-, and division-level artillery …”

Erk turned to Odie as the droid droned on. “There’s got to be a better way. All those casualties …” He shook his head sadly.

Odie rested her head on a hand and leaned close to Erk. Her voice quavered as she spoke. “It’s one disaster after another. Will this never end? Does anybody know what they’re doing? We’re the only survivors of General Khamar’s army, do you realize that, Erk? All those lives lost! Why did we, of all of them, survive? Why that Rodian I killed, the friend of that Jedi commander, Starwalker? Why did that have to happen?”

“Commander Skywalker,” he corrected her. “I don’t know—that’s just the way it’s turned out. But we made it; we made it this far and we’re going to make it all the way.” He put his good arm around her shoulders. “Commander Skywalker led the attack on those hills, Odie. I wonder what’s happened to him?”

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

T
he smoke and fires and the dust were so thick that the transport’s infras couldn’t penetrate it; the onboard radar was no longer effective at picking out targets, because the debris and fragments from exploding vehicles filled the air in a raging cauldron of destruction. It had become almost impossible to know if one was firing on friend or foe.

“Get us out of here,” Anakin ordered his driver. “I’ve got to see what’s going on and get those transports moving. My troopers are up there without infantry support. Move. Move!”

Suddenly Anakin’s vehicle was rammed in the rear by another vehicle; everyone pitched forward in their harnesses, and the transport came to a stop. In that instant a bolt from a laser cannon struck the machine on the flank and drilled through into the crew compartment, which immediately burst into flames.

Without even thinking about it, Anakin reached down with one arm and grabbed the driver by the bottom of his back plate. With the other he sent a Force push that flung the cupola hatch open. The driver released his harness and kicked with his feet as Anakin
hauled him out of his seat, up into the cupola, and over the side. They landed in a heap beside the transport, which began to billow greasy black smoke followed by a brilliant and intensely hot white flame that shot at least ten meters into the air. No one else made it out.

Dragging the driver, Anakin stumbled toward cover. He hadn’t made it more than a few meters when another vehicle roared by, missing them by millimeters, almost knocking them down in its passing and nearly suffocating them in the thick cloud of dust that billowed behind it. Anakin flung himself and the driver into a shallow depression. All around them vehicles roared and churned, their guns flashing. The noise was deafening. Something came pounding at them out of the dust—a transport, headed straight for them. They burrowed as deeply into the depression as they could get and the machine roared right over them, half burying the pair in the caved-in dirt of the depression, which was now nothing more than a rut in the ground.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Anakin said, digging himself out of the dirt.

“Which way is out?” the driver replied.

He was right: Anakin realized he didn’t know which direction was the front. He looked around and in only a moment located the transports.

“This way,” he ordered. The driver followed him. They came to a transport that had stopped and was firing repeatedly at targets they couldn’t see. Anakin recognized the faint markings stenciled on the front armor plate—it was one of his! He switched to his command net. “Aurek Trill Six Niner Slant Cresh, this
is Unit Six. Open up, I’m taking you as my command vehicle.” There was no response.

He reached for the small hatch that held a receiver-transmitter hooked into the vehicle’s onboard communications system when suddenly it lurched forward, entangling the hem of his cloak in the track mechanism, jerking him off his feet and dragging him along. He was just millimeters from being pulled under the vehicle’s treads when his driver leapt forward and severed his cloak with a vibroblade.

“Thanks, that was close,” Anakin gasped as the driver helped him to his feet. He unfastened the cloak and let the fragment fall to the ground. Then he tapped the communications mechanism in his helmet and tried to raise the transport commander. He heard nothing but static.

“Come on, we’ll have to get back to the transports on foot. They aren’t far. Follow me.”

They ran. Anakin had to hold himself back: the driver was well trained and in good shape, but even so, he couldn’t match a Jedi at top speed. Anakin’s blood pounded in his veins as he willed himself to keep his speed down a fraction when everything in him roared a single message:
Run!
But in a few seconds that felt like an eternity, he found himself in the rut the transport had made. The transports were there. He ran to the first one in line. Its hatch was open, and its commander stood in it with his armored head and torso half out of the vehicle. With an easy Force leap, Anakin bounded onto the vehicle’s dorsal surface, surprising the clone commander, who drew his weapon, thinking he must be an enemy soldier.

Anakin seized the clone’s arm. “I’m Commander Skywalker!” he said urgently. “Get down inside—I’m taking this as my command vehicle.” The clone commander obeyed. Reaching down to pull his driver up behind him, Anakin climbed in.

Pors Tonith watched as the battle unfolded. He sipped from his teacup. Excellent! The enemy attack was proceeding just as he had anticipated. The attacks on his right and center were faltering, and the thrust toward the hills was being slowed by the crawler attack. They would have a big surprise when they reached the foot of those hills. “Are you ready?” he asked a technician.

“Yessir. We’ve penetrated their communications net. We have their commander’s call sign, his voiceprint, and his authentication code. We are capable of issuing orders to all his troops.”

“Good. Stand by.” Tonith could now issue bogus orders to all of Halcyon’s units to retreat or attack or stand still, but he wanted something more spectacular, and he was going to get it. He smiled.

“Give me your comlink,” Anakin demanded of the battalion commander, ripping his own off and throwing it out through the hatch. “This is Unit Six. I am in the lead transport. On my command, follow me.” He climbed back up into the vehicle’s hatch. “Move this thing as quickly as you can. Listen carefully: I’ll be giving you directions.” He toggled to the command net. “All eyes on me, follow my light.”

With that he drew his lightsaber, activated it, and
held it straight up in the air. He swept his arm forward; the vehicle lurched into the ramp and surged up onto the plain above, followed by a long line of transports.

“Hard left,” he ordered, and the transport swerved to the left just in time to miss one roaring across in front. “Faster. Straight ahead. Right. Left. Open this thing up.”

Laser and blaster bolts sizzled through the air. Anakin effortlessly batted them out of the way. Behind him some of the transports were hit and slowed to a stop, but the following vehicles sped around them, keeping Anakin’s lightsaber in view. It was the only thing anyone could see at any distance in the dense dust and smoke hanging over the battlefield. Fortunately, Halcyon’s transports had done a good job, and the enemy machines had all either been disabled or were retreating.

In a matter of seconds they reached the rocks at the bottom of their objective. “Dismount. Form up in battalions and follow me!” Anakin climbed out of the hatch and leapt to the ground. This was a maneuver the clones had practiced to perfection in countless training exercises. Squads, platoons, companies, and battalions rapidly took their prearranged positions, closing their ranks to cover the gaps left in their formations by the transports that had been hit on the way in. The surviving vehicles rolled up and began to lay down suppressing fire on the hilltop.

“Give us supporting fires,” Anakin demanded of the Fire Direction Center.

“Copy that,” a voice echoed in Anakin’s headset. “Time on target five seconds.”

Anakin counted
one-thousand-one, one-thousand-two, one-thousand-three, one-thousand-four, one-thousand-five
, and mortar rounds began exploding on the hilltop. It was a very satisfying display of firepower. He let the barrage continue as he took his place at the head of the lead battalion. He turned to the battalion commander. “That’ll keep them down—nobody can survive under that pounding.”