Star Wars_ The Dark Lord Trilogy - James Luceno [12]
Withdrawing the blade, he stepped back from the door and moved his hands through a Force pass, willing the iris portal to open. The door shuddered but remained sealed. Screaming through gnashed teeth, he tried again.
When the commandos finally caught up with him, he spun to them.
“Blow the door!”
A commando hurried forward to place magnetic charges against the alloy. Anakin paced behind him, waiting. Another commando had to tug him to a safe distance.
The charges blew, and the portal yielded. Anakin charged through the irising seal even before it had opened fully.
The launching bay was littered with containers, articles of clothing, objects the Neimoidians hadn’t had time or space to take with them.
The shuttle was gone.
Wisps of vapor swirled about, and the air smelled faintly of fuel. Anakin ran to the platform’s forward-curving edge, eyes scanning Cato Neimoidia’s light-riddled night sky for some sign of the fleeing ship. The palace’s defensive shield had been deactivated. Thick packets of crimson light lanced from laser cannon batteries on the slopes below.
Anakin’s teammates joined him at the brink, one with a hand vised on TC-16’s upper left arm.
“What type of ship is it?” Anakin demanded of the droid.
TC-16 tipped his head to one side. “Ship, sir?”
“The shuttle—Gunray’s shuttle. What model?”
“Why, I believe it was a Sheathipede-class, sir.”
“Haor Chall Engineering Sheathipede-class transport shuttle,” one of the commandos explained. “Design is based on the soldier beetles. Upraised stern, bow ramp, clawfoot landing gear. Gunray’s named it the Lapiz Cutter.”
A second commando spoke up, signaling that he was receiving commo.
“General. From Commander Dodonna’s flagship: more than sixty shuttles and landing craft launched from the redoubt. Thirteen destroyed, eighteen seized. An unknown quantity have managed to dock aboard Trade Federation core ships and open-ring Lucrehulk carriers. Additional shuttles are still in the envelope.”
Anakin turned through a circle, gloved hand gripped on the lightsaber pommel, the other balled into a fist. A conduit nearby took the brunt of his anger. Cleaved by the blade, it fell in pieces to the landing platform’s seamless floor. Anakin began to pace again, then stopped, yanking a commando around by his shoulder.
“Comm forward command. I want my ship and astromech droid flown here immediately. One of the ARC-one-seventy pilots can fly it.”
The commando nodded, relayed the message, then said: “FCC will comply, sir. You’ll have your starfighter soonest.”
Anakin returned to the lip of the platform, blowing his breath into the night. The battle appeared to be winding down, except within him. Not until he had Gunray in his grip—
“General Skywalker,” a commando said from behind him. “Urgent from Commander Cody. He and General Kenobi are pinned down on level one.”
Anakin shot him a questioning look. “By droids?”
“A lot of them, apparently.”
Anakin glanced into the glowing sky, then back at the commando who had delivered Cody’s message.
“General, forward command reports that your starfighter is on the way,” another commando updated.
Again, Anakin glanced at the sky, only to turn back to the commando. “Where did you say Obi-Wan and Cody are?”
“Level one, sir. In the shipping area.”
Anakin compressed his lips. “All right. Let’s go rescue them.”
In the shipping room, the sliding doors were still cycling—striking the punctured shipping container, retracting, attempting to close once more. Battle droids were still entering with each parting of the doors, and spores were still wafting through the air.
Not much had changed, except within Obi-Wan, who felt as if he had downed three bottles of Whyren’s Reserve. Bleary-eyed but lucid, tipsy but sure-footed,