Jedi Trial (11 page)

By noon on the second day they were in serious trouble. They found a rock outcropping and flopped down in its shade.

“Let’s rest here awhile,” Erk croaked. Odie didn’t bother to reply, but dropped down, raising a cloud of dust. They lay there in the intense heat and panted. Odie’s canteen was long since empty, but neither could remember when or who had sucked the last drops out of it. It was getting hard for them to focus their thoughts on anything.

Dimly, Erk became aware that Odie was saying something. “What?” he rasped, but she didn’t answer immediately. She said something else, several words, but he couldn’t make them out. With effort he rolled over and faced her. “What did you say?”

“Let’s head back home, Tami,” she answered. “It’s time for chow.”

Tami?
Oh, yes, wasn’t he one of Odie’s buddies? Erk had difficulty remembering exactly—anyway, he thought it was someone she had mentioned. “Odie …,” Erk gasped, but, too exhausted to point out that she was hallucinating, he just rolled over on his back. Odie continued talking to her imaginary comrade.

The heat enveloped them like a scorching blanket despite the shade provided by the rock overhang—and as the minutes dragged by and the sun moved gradually, even that slight protection began to disappear. Once it did, they would fry. But there was nothing they could do about it now. Soon the sun blazed down on them like a raging furnace. The air was so hot it hurt to breathe.

Gradually—everything was happening in slow motion now—Erk became aware that something was blocking the sunlight. He squinted up at it. It was huge. It spread its enormous wings and made a terrible squawking
noise. A giant beak filled with razor-sharp teeth fastened onto one of Odie’s legs and bit it off. Dimly, Erk was aware that there was no such creature native to Praesitlyn, but here it was anyway. As it threw back its head to swallow the limb, Erk drew his sidearm with his last remaining strength and fired.

Watching an army preparing to embark on a campaign is one of the most exciting experiences in life, second only to being shot at and missed. Grudo the Rodian had been shot at and missed many times, but even he caught the tempo of the moment as the fleet based on Centax 1 prepared for war.

While the Republic’s available ground forces were limited to the twenty thousand clones now embarking on the waiting ships, fortunately its naval forces were of considerable potency, consisting of many capital ships—enough, Halcyon reasoned, to break through the Separatist fleet he would encounter blockading Praesitlyn. The situation on the planet’s surface would be a different matter, but getting there, he hoped, should at least prove easy.

Halcyon had chosen as his flagship the
Centax
-class heavy frigate
Ranger
. Built by the expert shipwrights of Sluis Van and outfitted in the shipyard on Centax 1, the
Ranger
was a fast and powerful vessel equipped with the latest weaponry and auxiliary systems. It was on this ship that Halcyon held his first council of war as the fleet readied to depart.

“We have deployable ground forces of twenty thousand clones. I will form them into two divisions. I’ll command one, and Anakin the other. As I see it, each
division should consist of four brigades of four battalions, each with four infantry companies. This will give us great maneuverability in the attack and—”

Grudo snorted. “I thought you knew better than that, Halcyon. No wonder I beat you so handily that—” He caught Anakin looking at him with intense interest and dropped that line of thought. “Divide your divisions by threes: three brigades, each with three battalions of three companies.”

“What?” Halcyon asked.

“I think what he means,” Anakin interjected, “is that two up, one back, is not only the standard military formation, but also a more powerful structure. With larger formations you have more combat power. You attack with two brigades or battalions or companies and keep one in reserve. At least, that’s what it looks like in everything I’ve studied.”

Grudo’s laughing hoot warbled with the swinging of his snout as he shook his head side to side. “Age must be getting to you, Halcyon—you’re forgetting things even the youngster knows!”

Halcyon nodded ruefully. “I stand corrected, then. We’ll organize our troops into a triangular formation.

“On to logistics,” he went on quickly. Anakin listened intently.

The next days passed in a whirlwind of activity. The two Jedi and their Rodian comrade soon began to work as a well-oiled team. Grudo followed Anakin everywhere, interjecting advice whenever appropriate, but otherwise not saying much. The clone infantry had been divided among several transports, in order to minimize
their losses if a ship was hit, so the trio were kept busy moving among the ships. At night they met in Halcyon’s stateroom to go over the details of the day.

One evening, Halcyon asked Anakin, “Are you familiar with the capabilities of the specialized troopers?” He was referring to the fifty clone commandos aboard the battle cruiser
Teyr
.

Anakin nodded. Clone commandos were trained to be used for only the most dangerous missions, and as such were bred to possess a larger degree of independent thought and action than ordinary troopers. Equipped with highly advanced armor and weapons, they were capable of fighting successfully on their own, but with a Jedi commander their potential as an attack force was virtually unlimited.

“They’re yours, then,” Halcyon told him. “Take Grudo, go over to the
Teyr
, and get to know them.”

Surprised and pleased, Anakin wasted no time getting a shuttle to the cruiser.

Earlier, he had taken charge of his division, met with his brigade, battalion, and company commanders, introduced himself to the troopers, inspected them in ranks, and asked probing questions about their armor, equipment, and weapons. Grudo had had him bone up on these things and read the readiness reports the division’s commanders had submitted.

“You’re their leader,” he had said. “Soldiers don’t respect a commander who doesn’t know their weapons, equipment, and tactics better than they do. But remember this: all the clones are like brothers—twin brothers—and all clones think they’re the best. They work best under their own officers; they wouldn’t fight
under me. Under you, yes, of course—you’re a Jedi. But although they respect you as a Jedi, now you must show them they can respect you as a soldier like them. You have to show them
before
we go into battle that you know what you’re doing.”

Anakin had done his best, and Grudo had been impressed with his handling of the troops. Now, as he headed for the
Teyr
, he was feeling more confident, eager to meet the clone commandos who were to be his to command.

The captain in charge of the commandos called them to attention when Anakin entered their bay.

Anakin traded salutes with the captain. “At ease!” he commanded. He spread his legs slightly and clasped his hands behind his back as he scanned the soldiers before him. There were two sergeants in the group, judging by the green markings on their armor.

“I am Commander Anakin Skywalker,” he began. “You have been assigned to the Second Division, which I command. You will serve as part of my headquarters battalion, under my personal direction. Captain, you will not report to or receive orders from any other officer during this campaign. I will assign you missions as required by the tactical situation on Praesitlyn. I will not ask you to do anything that I wouldn’t do myself. Is that clear?”

“Arrrrruuuhh!”
the troopers shouted in unison, coming to attention with a loud slamming of boots on the deck. The compartment echoed with their shouts.

The captain permitted himself a slight smile. “My troopers are ready, sir!” he reported.

Anakin glanced at Grudo, whose face was pulled
down in the Rodian smile. “Captain, have the troopers fall out and fall in by their assigned bunks. I wish to inspect their armor, weapons, and equipment.”

Anakin spent the rest of the night inspecting the troopers. He found no dust, grease, or dirty weapons. Throughout the inspection, the captain followed Anakin with a datapad at the ready, but he was never told to enter anything.

On the way back to the
Ranger
, Grudo leaned over and told Anakin, “You did a good job with that inspection. You looked at everything you should, and weren’t petty, like some might have been. The troopers appreciate that. They’ll fight well for you, I can tell.”

Feeling his chest swell with pride and excitement, Anakin swiftly ran through the Jedi Code in his mind:
There is no emotion; there is peace
 … 
A Jedi does not act for personal power
 … He was here to do a job—and what was more, a job that would cost soldiers their lives. He would do well to remember his training, he told himself. He was a Jedi, and he would do the Order proud. Taking a deep breath, he reached out to the Force, seeking serenity …

S
omeone was pouring water over Odie’s face. The water was warmer than normal human body temperature, but to her it was as sweet and cool as any mountain freshet, heavenly balm to her blistered face and cracked lips, and she gulped it down for what it was: life. She luxuriated in the cooling wetness and tried to laugh, but her voice wouldn’t work. She opened her eyes and saw a shadowy figure bending over her.

She tried to speak, and managed to croak, “Erk.”

“Yes,” the shadowy figure standing over her said.

“Erk?” she said again, mustering what she could of her returning strength to get the name out. But the voice that responded was strange. “Who are …” was all she could get out.

“Sergeant Omin L’Loxx at your service,” the shadow replied. “Who did you expect?”

“Pilot,” she gasped.

“The flyboy? We’re pumping him up, too. We put him under another shelter, give you room to breathe under here. My partner is Corporal Jamur Nath. Come on, can you get up? We’re taking a big chance hanging around out here like this. There are droid patrols all
over the place.” He poured more liquid into Odie’s mouth.

She felt less groggy and managed, with a little bit of help, to sit up. She looked around, but didn’t see anybody other than Erk and the two recon troopers. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Scouting. The Separatists have patrols out all over the place, looking for weak spots to hit. It’s our job to find them and disrupt their plans—and report any maneuver units we find trying to circle our positions.” He changed the subject. “I see by what’s left of your gear that you’re a recon trooper. Where’s your speeder?” He lifted her head gently and gave her more to drink, then shook the canteen. It was almost empty. “You sucked up a full two liters. It’ll bring you around in no time. Good thing you two aren’t one of the other species. This stuff is brewed up special for humans—restores fluids, electrolytes, minerals, all sorts of stuff you lose through dehydration. What happened to you two? If you hadn’t fired that shot, we’d never have known you were here, and you’d both be dead by now.”

Brokenly, Odie explained what had happened. “I—I don’t remember firing a shot,” she stammered.

“Well, must’ve been your boyfriend over there. Or you just don’t remember doing it. When you get into the last stages of death by dehydration you hallucinate all over the place. But I suppose you know that. We saw the flash and came to investigate. Whoever it was fired straight up into the air. We figured it was a signal.”

Odie wanted to deny that Erk was her “boyfriend” but didn’t have enough energy, so she let the man’s observation pass. Instead, she asked, “Wh-who are you?”

“I’m a recon trooper, just like you. Were you part of the garrison here? Poor devils. Come on, let’s get you on your feet and moving. You can ride on the back of my speeder. That sidearm of yours. Can you use it?”

“Y-yes. But where’d you come from? You weren’t part of General Khamar’s army.”

“No, we weren’t. We’ll explain everything later. Right now my first priority is to get out of this desert and back into our positions before one of their patrols spots us. While you were coming to, I reported in and got orders to bring you in immediately. Come on, take my hand, let’s get going.”

Odie staggered slightly as she stepped out from under the shelter half, involuntarily raising a hand to shield her eyes from the brilliant sunlight.

“Here,” L’Loxx said, handing her a helmet, “put it on. It’s a spare.” Gratefully, Odie donned the helmet, a standard recon trooper’s multipurpose field operating unit. She was feeling much better now. Expertly, she adjusted the helmet’s features. There stood Erk with the other trooper beside his speeder. It was like seeing two old friends again, Erk and the speeder. The latter was almost the image of her own machine.

“You ride with me, trooper,” L’Loxx said. “Come on!” he called to Corporal Nath. “Let’s get out of here!” Rapidly, L’Loxx repacked some of the gear on his speeder to make room for Odie. “Hold tight,” he cautioned, “we’re not going to waste any time getting
back to base.” Odie knew from the instant the sergeant put his machine into motion that he was an expert.

Cautiously, L’Loxx guided them over some extremely rough terrain. He stopped below the crest of a long ridge. “Just below us is a dried-up riverbed. We’ll follow that almost all the way back. Do you know it?”

“Yes. Your base is near the Intergalactic Communications Center?”

“Right. We occupy the center and the foreground below the plateau. We’re dug in in front of them—our rear is in this direction. Their fleet can’t intervene because ours is holding them too close. The first day we fought off waves of battle droids, but we held our lines. Now we’ve settled down into positional warfare, sniping at each other and sending out patrols to find weak places in the lines. It’s a standoff. Whoever gets reinforcements first wins.”

“Are reinforcements coming?”

“Ours? I don’t know. Our commander sent a message to Coruscant before we attacked, before we entered the zone where the enemy managed to block all other transmissions. Theirs? Yeah, they probably planned big reinforcements before they attacked. All right. Draw your weapon. I’ll drive, you shoot.”