Chapter Sixteen

Cato Neimoidia

Though Kyra's medical aid helped Quinlan tremendously, he still wasn't in the best shape, resulting in a long laborious trek up to the city proper. Keeping to the less populated roads and utilizing the shadows as much as they could, they stayed out of sight.

"So, how are we getting out of here, Blondie?"

"I have a ship just outside the city on one of the mountain spires."

Master Vos limped along and grunted in response.

"Okay, and what next?"

Kyra stayed silent for a while as they made their way down another street. "Find Aedan."

"And then what? Settle down somewhere, perhaps on a farm, herding nerf. No, wait, krill farmers, and you'll start brewing spotchka."

Kyra stayed quiet.

"What are you going to do, Kyra? What's next for a Jedi Knight like yourself in this wicked, wretched world?"

She knew he was pressing her, knew he was trying to get a rise out of her, but also fully aware he was asking those questions of himself. Kyra didn't know what came next. All she cared about was finding Aedan. Once she did that, then she could start figuring out what to do with the rest of their lives.

As they reached the next intersection, two large construction droids carrying crates the size of speeders rolled in front of them, and stationed themselves in the middle of the road, blocking their path. Two security droids approached them. "This intersection is restricted. Redirect to main concourse," the droid said, extending an arm to the left.

Kyra kept her head down, but nodded, and proceeded in the direction he instructed. They turned onto a heavily populated avenue, which Kyra wasn't too worried about as the density of pedestrians helped them blend in.

A block away she noticed someone observing them for half a second too long then turn back to their datapad. Up on the fifth floor of the building ahead to their right, a shadow passed behind the window. She heard a spherical droid hovering close behind her. Too close.

She ducked to the left, but the laser blast still burned through the upper right side of her chest, barely missing her lungs. She grabbed Quinlan by his shoulder and pushed him to the side as the second laser blast zipped through the space they were occupying a second before. They both sprinted across the street, sprinting down a narrow corridor, Quinlan grimacing in pain as his wounds were fully healed.

Kyra opened herself up to the Force and she was accosted with flashes and warnings. She had unconsciously been blocking out the Force because of the discomfort it brought her and now they were paying the price. The Force screamed at Kyra and she saw the black backpack resting against wall. Kyra grabbed Quinlan and pulled backwards, causing him to nearly stumble.

"What?"

She didn't wait to respond and sprinted in the opposite direction pulling him with her. The alleyway behind them exploded, the fire lapping at their backs as they narrowly avoided the blast radius of the explosive.

"We're going to have to cross the main strip again," Kyra yelled as they neared the intersection.

"Lead the way," Master Vos growled back.

Meters away from the street, four clone troopers stepped into view and raised their rifles. Kyra waved her hand in front of her and the fireteam flew backwards before they got a shot off. They ran across the street and then down the side street on the other side. Luckily, there weren't any surprises waiting for them as they ran down the narrower corridor and made it to the next intersection where there weren't nearly as many people. Kyra glanced to the left and saw the same huge construction droids from earlier carrying the crates. They turned right, away from the harmless droids. The Force sent another warning. Kyra turned around and saw that the two big crates were now flying towards them. Both Jedi dove towards the construction droids, narrowly sliding under the thrown objects. The crates crashed, and rolled down the streets.

"This just keeps getting better and better," Quinlan said as they once again changed directions, and ran towards the now settled crates, leaping over them giving them some cover from the now incoming fire from clones and security droids that were closing in on them.

"We need to get off this skybridge," Kyra yelled as she sprinted up the street. She was cursing herself for closing herself off from the Force. How stupid can you be? And now they were running for their lives. She was deep into the celestial field now, disregarding whatever discomfort it caused her. They were in trouble, and dozens of adversaries were closing in.

"Excellent idea. How though? We have another kilometer that way," he said pointing straight ahead of them where the city ended, and the massive cables began. "Or there's jumping over the side. We could always take the easy way out, and plummet to our dooms, though the toxic cloud we'll fall through probably won't be the most enjoyable way to go out."

Kyra skidded to a stop and looked to their left, to the edge of the skybridge which was only three blocks away. Then she began sprinting toward it.

"Um, I was totally kidding, you know?" Quinlan said as he chased after her.

Kyra was moving now. She could feel the Force starting to build within her and around her, the unlimited reservoir of energy begging to be tapped into. She cleared a hundred and fifty meters in a flash and was standing at the edge of the skybridge. Far down below her hung a blanket of toxic mist.

Quinlan arrived ten seconds later, "Geez, Triple B," he said, clearly winded. "You really can move."

"Triple B?"

"Yea, Blazing Blue Bombshell."

Kyra had to stifle a smile, and look away.

"It's what a lot of the troopers called you."

The smile vanished. "The troopers that are now actively trying to kill us."

Quinlan winced, "Right. My bad. Too soon. So, what are we doing here?"

"Looking for a ride to hitch," she said, eyes scanning the airspeeders that were circulating the city. She shook her head. Ordinary people out for a Benduday flight around a city on a bridge, perhaps stopping by the store to pick up some Corellian Brandy and perhaps some Colo Claw Fish to go with it, while her entire galaxy shattered overnight. Ignorance is bliss.

"Great, so let's just hail a cab then. You want to wave, and I'll try and build some kind of sign."

"No need," Kyra said as she saw a blue XJ2 Airspeeder with an open cockpit flying along at a leisurely place. That'll do. Then she flared up in shimmering blue light, becoming alight.

"Whoa," Quinlan said, taking a step back.

She thrust both hands forward, grasping at the aircraft with the Force. The amount of Force energy coming from her hands causing the air around them to quake and tremble. The speeder slowed to a stop and then began to drift towards them. Kyra felt Quinlan's incredulous stare as she pulled the vehicle across the distance, and finally next to the edge of the city.

The Neimoidian piloting the craft was largely overweight and dressed in fine silks, he was also absolutely terrified. "Take it all, you can have it. Just let me go."

Kyra hopped into the front seat next to the still astonished native while Quinlan jumped into the backseat. Kyra, still sparkling with azure energy, smiled sweetly and then using the Force, levitated the Neimoidian out of the speeder and onto the skybridge. Without a word she pushed the sleek speeder full throttle, and they were on their way back to the ship.

She could sense forces converging on them, but they still had a sizeable head start, and should have enough time to take off without incident. Kyra landed the speeder on the tall spire, and both Jedi were out and running toward the Mon Calamarian ship.

The Force flashed, and Kyra whipped around to see two missiles streaking right for them. She deflected them instantly, but quickly had to take out her lightsaber and block the incoming turbolaser fire from two ARC 170's. The starfighters swooped down toward them, scorching the plateau with a barrage of laser cannon fire. Kyra adjusted easily but had to cover Quinlan as he still wasn't fully healed and able to perform at optimum efficiency. Kyra could handle the attack aimed for them, she was deep in the force, but for how long was the question. Then she felt the attack vectors shift, and knew they were changing tactics, but didn't react in time. A pair of missiles streaked by and slammed into Kyra's ship, obliterating it, the blast knocking the two Jedi off their feet.

She recovered in time to block more turbolaser fire aimed at them, but once more, the coordinated attack from the ARC-170's laid waste to their XJ2 Speeder. Now they were in trouble. No ship to get home. No speeder to get to safety.

What the frak are we going to do now?

Murkhana

"As far as recues go, this won't be winning any awards," Wil said.

"Would you like it back in your cell?" Hoppie asked.

Wil Shrugged, "I'm just saying. We are really stuck between a rock and a rocky place."

"That is not how the quote goes," Hoppie said through gritted teeth.

Laser fire pinged off the granite walls, chipping away at the sturdy barrier. Hoppie nodded back to Dassa, a hint of a smile graced her lips, and Hoppie hoped like hell he'd survive long enough to see the full one. He watched as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. He caught a glimpse of something metallic on the back of her neck near the base of her skull. She tapped something on her right wrist, the mechanical wrist. She took a deep breath and waited.

The blasterfire lessened and they both made their move, both turning away from the middle of the room, and moving to the outside of the pillars. Hoppie instantly found his first target and opened fire, dropping him instantly, and then sighted the next. He heard Dassa doing the same on the other side of the room, taking his same approach along the wall, while Wil was firing down the middle. Hoppie dropped three troopers in quick succession and advanced forward to the next pillar and began firing across the room, thinning out the shooters trying to creep up on Dassa. Interestingly enough, she was using the exact same tactic, and occasionally firing at an angle towards those on his side of the room.

He caught glimpses of her fighting and was stunned to see her in action. Hoppie knew he had above average battle prowess—faster reflexes and movements, steadier aim, and seemingly faster cognitive processes—but Dassa was on an entirely different level. Every shot was a headshot, and her time between shots seemed impossible.

A blaster bolt burned through his left quad, causing him to sneer and refocus on what he did best. They had made it to the next pillar, halfway through the room, bodies piled up at the far end of the room, making it harder for the troops to move around.

Both Hoppie and Dassa fired diagonally again, taking troops out on the opposite sides, and then both spun around and sprinted along the wall once more, bringing the fight to close quarters. Hoppie drew the standard Clone M8 Combat knife from his belt with his left hand, and swept a trooper's thrusting blaster aside, then brought his own blaster forward, firing two shots into the troopers chest. He snaked his left arm around the trooper's neck before he fell to the ground, and used him as a shield. He hefted the slowly dying trooper, pushing him forward into the final two enemies, both hesitating to fire for a split second. The body collapsed onto them, pinning them. Hoppie finished them off with a blaster round each to the head.

He turned towards Dassa in time to see her throw a right cross into the final remaining trooper, the punch obliterating his duraplast helmet and causing serious trauma to his head.

Note to self: Do not make her angry.

Hoppie took one last survey of the room; eighteen bodies lay on the ground. Eighteen of his former brothers. But something was wrong with them. No way should only three people have been able to take out so many, regardless of how skilled Dassa and Hoppie were. His earlier assessment of them had proved true. Something was off with the troopers.

Wil came up alongside them as they all surveyed the destruction. He looked to Hoppie and nodded slowly. Can't get a clearer confirmation of loyalty after he took out half a platoon of people that looked exactly like him.

"Come on, Hop Man," Dassa said. "While that was fun, I'd rather not get into another scuffle."

"Roger that. Let's get on those speeder's," he said pointing to where some troopers had left their rides right outside the main entrance. "And high tail it out of here."

She nodded, "Let's go."

Hoppie was relieved to see no reinforcements seemed to be in route. He stepped out of the garrison and was about to sprint towards the bikes when he froze, hearing an all too familiar whirring sound. "Stop," he said, and cocked his head, eyes focusing on the city. He saw the faint outlines of two gunships approaching.

"What is it?"

"Gunships," he said, "Two of them."

Dassa shook her head, "We can't outrun them on those."

Hoppie stared at the ships coming and took in their surroundings. No cover from here to the city, nothing but open grasslands. And there will be more ships arriving shortly. He moved back into the lobby and searched the room. He found the weapons locker in the corner, raised his blaster and fired at the lock. An RPS-6 would be perfect right about now.

But no such luck. Inside there were a dozen DC-15 Rifles, a half dozen grenades, a dozen less lethal grenades—from tear gas to flash bangs, as well as a few smoke grenades. An idea came to him. He attached a few of the grenades to his belt, but held the smoke grenade in his hand.

Hoppie ran over to a downed trooper and took off his helmet, averting his eyes from the face of his fallen brother. He set the helmet on the floor and fired two laser blasts into the side of it, grazing blasts that wouldn't have harmed the wearer. "On the starboard side of the gunship, a half meter directly below the front pilot is a computer interface port. A single direct hit on that will temporarily short out the gunships dispersive shielding."

"Seriously?"

"The LAAT is an incredible machine, but it does have its quirks."

Dassa raised an eyebrow, "How temporary are we talking about?"

"Three seconds."

"Well, that's not going to help us at all."

"Also on the starboard side, behind the chin mounted guns, and a meter below the rear pilot is a laser cannon power feed access panel. With the armor compromised, a laser blast through the panel will take out the ship."

"How?"

Hoppie ran up to the door and saw the ships were still approaching. "A shot through the panel will cause a power overload in the laser system and detonate internally. I'll take out the shields, you set yourself up for a shot on the power feed. Remember, it's a rectangular panel, about a half meter tall."

"And how will you get close enough to hit the computer interface port."

He held up the helmet, "They don't know me from any other clone, and this helmet's comms are obviously down. I'll draw them in, take the shot, and then you take your shot, which need to be within three seconds of my shot. Think you can do that?"

Dassa raised an eyebrow in response.

Hoppie looked at his helmet and then surveyed his armor. "Let's make it more believable," he said, and pointed to his shoulder. "Can you give me some blaster scoring on my armor, right he-"

Before he could finish, she had fired two shots that left black scorch marks on his left shoulder plate, and left arm. He whipped his head back to hers and was about to yell but thought better of it. "That'll do."

Dassa shrugged, "And what about the second gunship?"

"I haven't got that far yet, but I do have a few grenades that might work."

Dassa held out her hand, "Give me one."

Hoppie gestured with his chin, "There's some left in locker. And a rifle if you're any good with one."

"I am, but I'm better with a pistol. Better hand to mind coordination," she said, tapping the back of her neck.

"Yea, you'll have to tell me more about that later, maybe over an Alderaanian ale."

She pursed her lips at that. But Hoppie had a practiced eye, and noticed she tried to hide the end of one lip turning up ever so slightly. "Get us out of here, and maybe I will."

"Deal."

He attached the smoke grenade to the back of his belt, and then walked out of the garrison and into the open field outside of it. He waved his left arm up and down, while holding his helmet in the other as they two gunships slowed down and came to a stop before them, their complete array of weapons trained on him. He locked eyes with the pilot and then held up his helmet, showing him the damage and implying his comms were out. The pilot nodded and seemed to relax. That relaxation would be his undoing. Six ropes dropped from the hold of the gunships, and six clones prepared to descend. The pilot checked his screens, and Hoppie made his move. He leapt to the side as far as he could, rolling as he hit the grass, and coming up quickly into a shooting stance and firing one shot into the computer interface port. A fraction of a second later a laser bolt zipped through the air, lancing right through the now unarmored hull and straight through the laser power feed access panel.

The explosion from inside the ship sent Hoppie flying back five meters. The wind was knocked out of him from the impact, and a piece of shrapnel grazed the side of his head, but he climbed to his feet, ripped the smoke grenade off his belt which pulled the pin, and tossed the grenade ten meters in front of him. A stream of smoke poured out, which coupled with the gunship that just exploded in midair, Hoppie had enough cover to relocate and attack the second gunship. He now pulled the explosive grenade from his belt and threw it with everything he had at the second gunship that was starting to rise above the wreckage and the smoke.

His hopes were dashed to pieces as the miniature bomb fell short of the target and landed on the grass, exploding harmlessly ten meters beneath the LAAT.

"Well, frack," he said, and then sprinted for cover, diving behind the downed gunship. The heat was intense as much of the wreckage was still on fire. He really wished he hadn't dropped his helmet. Through the flames, he saw the gunship hover to the side, they'd have a clear shot in seconds.

That's when heard a spoon detach from a grenade behind him. He turned around as Dassa threw the grenade with the expertise of a professional Gravball player towards the gunship. He watched the trajectory of the grenade as it sailed through the air and landed in between the two engines where the missile belts are exposed. A perfect throw.

Hoppie curled up into a ball, and covered his head, and the explosion blasted the ship into pieces, sending debris raining down. Once it was clear, Hoppie stood and whipped around toward Dassa who leaned against the doorframe, armed crossed, looking like a very satisfied Loth cat. "Were you trying to bring a gunney down on top of me, because that's what it feels like."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you have a better idea?"

Hoppie brushed himself off, and then walked towards the speeders. "Just get on the bikes, we need to get out of here."

"A simple thanks would be nice."

Hoppie climbed onto a speeder, and sighed. He turned towards the striking woman. "Thank you. I mean that."

She nodded. "You're welcome."

Wil hopped on one of the speeders as well. "Okay you two, can we just get back to the ship, and go find Aedan."

"Fine, fine. Let's go they'll be scrambling more fighters, but we can easily lose them in the city once we get there."

"Yep. Move out," Dassa said, and gunned her speeder. Hoppie and Will followed her heading towards the city. Towards the ship. Towards Coruscant to help Aedan. And after that, towards freedom and the unknown. He wasn't exactly sure he felt about that. But another thing Kal Skirata used to say was, "Sometimes when you don't know the way, just follow your feet. One step at a time."

Right. One step at a time.