Star Wars_ The Jedi Academy Trilogy 03_ Champions of the Force - Kevin J. Anderson [44]
Furgan ran his stubby fingers across the polished knee joint of one of the MT-AT walkers. Designed for ground assaults on remote mountain citadels, the MT-ATs’ articulated joints and sophisticated claw footpads could scale even vertical surfaces of rock. On each joint were mounted supercharged lasers that could penetrate a half-meter-thick blast door. Two small blaster cannons hung on either side of the low-slung pilot’s compartment to shoot down harrying fighter ships out of the sky.
Furgan stared at the beautiful construction, smooth lines, and glossy armor, marveling at the MT-ATs incredible capabilities. “Splendid machine,” he said.
The stormtroopers paid no attention to him as they finished their preparations.
Colonel Ardax’s voice came over the intercom. “Your attention, please! After some difficulty with electrical discharges and ionization interference in this system, we have pinpointed the secret base. Prepare to deploy the strike force immediately. Let’s make this a clean and quick kill. That is all.” Ardax signed off.
“You heard the colonel,” Furgan said as the stormtrooper teams began to clamber aboard their MT-AT vehicles. They would be dropped from orbit on a thunderous plunge through the atmosphere, encased in a thermal-resistant cocoon that would detach upon striking the surface.
One trooper scrambled alone into his cockpit, hauling extra weapons, interrogation devices, and intelligence-gathering equipment.
“You!” Furgan said. “Stow all that in the cargo compartment. I am riding with you.”
The stormtrooper looked at him in silence for a moment, his polished eye visor staring blankly.
“Do you have a problem with that order, sergeant?” Furgan asked.
“No, sir,” the voice crackled through the helmet speaker. The stormtrooper methodically removed the equipment and stowed it in the undercompartment.
Furgan heaved himself into the second seat and strapped in. He pulled two sets of the crash webbing around his body to make sure he landed without injury. He didn’t want to limp in triumph into the defeated Rebel stronghold. He waited impatiently as the rest of the stormtroopers completed preparations, slipped aboard their assault transports, and locked themselves down.
When the launching bay dropped out from beneath his feet like a trapdoor, Furgan grabbed the arms of his chair and cried out. The transports plunged like heavy projectiles into the waiting atmosphere. Even in its thick cocoon the MT-AT jounced and rocked as if it were being struck by cannon blasts. He tried unsuccessfully to stop his yell of panic.
Beside him the stormtrooper pilot said nothing.
Inside the stronghold on Anoth, Leia’s personal servant Winter glanced at the chronometer and at the giggling dark-haired baby. It was time to put young Anakin to bed.
Though the triple planet Anoth had its own unusual cycle of days, nights, and twilights, Winter insisted on keeping their chronometers set to Coruscant standard time. Outside, the thin skies rarely brightened to more than a dark purple with flashes of searing yellow as electrical discharges blasted across space.
The planetoid was a stormy world, its surface covered with stone pinnacles like mammoth cathedrals reaching up to the limits of Anoth’s low gravity. Riddled with caves from thousands of geological inclusions that had weathered and volatilized away during centuries of planetary stresses, the rock spires provided a sheltered hiding place.
Winter picked up the baby in her arms and bounced him against her hip as she went deeper into the facility. Anakin’s shielded bedroom was brightly lit and decorated with soothing pastel colors. Tinkling music filled the air, a cheerful melody mixed with quiet wind and rushing water.
A boxy rectangular GNK power droid waddled from station to station in the room, charging the batteries of Anakin’s self-aware toys. “Thank you,” Winter said out of habit, though the droid had only minimal interactive programming.