Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order_ Dark Tide 02_ Ruin - Michael A. Stackpole [113]
The warrior slid, lifeless, off the blade.
Anakin dropped to a knee beside Daeshara’cor. Her green flesh had begun to take on a milky hue, and he did not think that was good. He flicked on his comlink. “Team Twelve, one down.”
“Copied, Twelve, pull back to the opal grove and the med station.”
“As ordered.”
Anakin thumbed his lightsaber off, then extinguished hers. He clipped her lightsaber to his belt, then hefted her up over his shoulder. Casting a glance behind himself, and summoning the Force to strengthen him, Anakin carried Daeshara’cor deeper into the Ithorian city. I don’t know if we can save it, but I hope we can save her.
Traest Kre’fey turned from the holographic display of the battle when his shields officer called out to him. “What is it, Commander?”
The cream-colored Bothan snarled. “Port shield is down to 5 percent. The next shot will—”
Something slammed into the hull outside the bridge and shook the ship. Kre’fey, off balance from his turn, dropped to the decking. He gathered his hands beneath him and heaved himself up. Sharp ferroceramic shards fell from his body to litter the deck, and he noted that blood covered some of them. It took him a second to realize that whatever had hit his ship had managed to spall off the bulkhead’s internal sheathing. Had I remained upright . . .
He glanced toward the communications stations and saw what little was left of Lieutenant Arr’yka twitching on the deck. “Comms officer is down. Get someone on that station! Shields, what happened?”
Grai’tvo tore the right sleeve off his uniform and used it to staunch the wound on his forehead. “Shield were low. A skip got through, hit us. It was just too powerful for us.”
Too powerful for us . . . Kre’fey growled a quick laugh. “Yes, that’s it, that’s the solution.”
Grai’tvo shook his head. “Admiral?”
“To the Yuuzhan Vong defenses.” Kre’fey looked at his gunnery officer. “Give me a 50 percent boost on the power of splinter shots.”
“It’ll slow the rate of fire.”
“I know, but they’re putting up weak voids for our weak shots. Make the shift and we can sting them.” Kre’fey turned toward the communications station. “Give me Admiral Pellaeon.”
Borsk Fey’lya nodded and wiped blood off the console with his sleeve. “Call going in, waiting for an answer.”
“Thank you, cousin.” Kre’fey crossed to the station. “Are you certain you want to be here, given the danger you’re in?”
The New Republic’s leader nodded solemnly. “Better to die here than waiting below for the Yuuzhan Vong to find me.”
Kre’fey smiled and patted Fey’lya on the shoulder. “Do good work here, cousin, and there won’t be any Yuuzhan Vong left for you to fear.”
Shedao Shai moved through the jungle in the midst of his troops. Above him the troop carriers—save for the one serving as his ground-force command center—streaked skyward to carry reinforcements down to the planet. The grounded troops consisted of a dozen Chazrach for each Yuuzhan Vong warrior. He’d broken his force into four components. One squad remained with his ship. He deployed triads on his left and right flanks, knowing the trio of squads in each triad would be enough to delay any enemy they met. In the center he led an ennead, with a triad at point, one in reserve, and the core triad with which he moved.
He intended to conduct only a reconnaissance mission in force, because he knew he had too few troops to do much so soon. The villip on his left shoulder whispered in his ear. “Master, we have reached the facility now. You will want to see this.”
“On my way.” In his scout’s voice he had heard something that began to sap his resolve to only reconnoiter the enemy building. They had met no resistance in the planet, which allowed him to imagine the enemy would collapse when pressed. The battle for Dantooine showed that was not necessarily true, but Elegos had told him the