Chapter 48
Cry "Havoc"

Artoo and Ahsoka circled behind the hut on the narrow path that clutched the edge of the bluff overlooking the Dune Sea. Imperial dropships crouched on the sands, mechanical sentinels behind the stormtroopers deployed in a perimeter around the plateau. There was nothing she could do about them, so she dismissed them from her mind for the moment.

There was barely room for them to squeeze through the gap between the speeder and the wall of the hut. Artoo burbled indignantly at the tight fit until she shushed him. The shadow of the shuttle, once they reached it, provided no relief from the heat, the body of the ship still radiating heat after its trip through the atmosphere. Ahsoka cautiously poked her head into the open, then ducked back under cover.

"There are six of them and they're looking the other way," she said to Artoo. "Give me one minute to get in place, then can you do something to startle them?"

Artoo rocked back and forth and spun his dome. She grinned at him and slapped his side affectionately.

"Okay. One minute." She crept around the ship, flinching away from the extra heat issuing from the engines at the stern. As she reached the front edge of the shuttle, an irate squeal rang out and Artoo charged at full speed toward the closest guard. Swinging their force pikes, the guards sprang for him. He zigzagged among them before he ignited his booster jets to hover provocatively just out of reach. In a move reminiscent of a biological sticking his tongue out, he opened a compartment on his body and a small nozzle appeared. Amid a shower of profane binary, he sprayed a foamy substance downward to envelop the guards.

Disoriented, they caromed into one another and groped to find a way through the fog. Ahsoka grinned. This was better than she had hoped for. She was already leaping into the mêlée when another guard rushed down the ramp. Oh, for two blades! She threw the thought away and slashed at him. The next moments passed in a blur of effort, cries of pain, and the unhappy union of the scents of scorched cloth and fire retardant.

Surveying the area, she called softly, "You can stop, Artoo. I think they're all dead." He settled back to earth. Ahsoka peered through the dissipating foam and mist toward the savage duel. "Think you can rescue the twins by yourself?" she whispered. "Obi-Wan and SkyGuy could use some help out there."

Artoo trundled up the ramp. She could have sworn his response was indignant. Chuckling, she crouched in the shadows, watching for her chance. Was it her imagination, or had the tempo of the duel slowed a little? Palpatine vaulted over Anakin's head to evade an attack by Obi-Wan. Perfect! His back was to her, with no one between them. Her mouth stretched into a feral snarl, and she held her lightsaber high as she ran into the sunlight.

Her blade just missed bisecting the Emperor's back when he nipped to one side. She had been so close, her lightsaber scorched his cloak. Her nostrils flared and the acrid scent inflamed her hunter's instincts. The three of them closed on Palpatine, who once again evaded the pincer motion. It was evident, however, that coping with a third opponent was beginning to tax his skills. She and Anakin drove him back to pin him against the wall of the hut while Obi-Wan guarded his escape to the side. The shuttle prevented easy escape on the other side.

As Anakin and Ahsoka closed in, Palpatine gestured with his left hand. Anakin countered with a similar movement, and an airborne boulder fell back to earth. Palpatine narrowed his eyes. He gestured again. The scree and small debris that littered the plateau flew toward them. Anakin somehow created a shield in the Force, although it was only partially effective. Ahsoka attempted to maintain the intensity of her attacks on the Emperor but repeatedly had to divert her attention to bat away small objects. Something broke through to strike her on the right shoulder. Her arm went numb She dropped her guard involuntarily, although she managed not to lose her grip on her lightsaber.

Palpatine used the fractional pause to launch himself into the air. He didn't come down.

Something shoved her off her feet to land with bruising force on her left hip. A humming, sizzling buzz—not a lightsaber—cut the air. Ozone burned her throat. Above her, someone grunted. She rolled awkwardly into a sitting position and swiped her left arm across her face to clear her vision.

Anakin must have been the one to shove her. He was catching bolts of electricity on his lightsaber, shielding her with his body. A quick glance to the side confirmed that Obi-Wan was also under attack, but Anakin was enduring much the worst of it. And then, like an abrupt plunge in icy water, the effect electricity would have on his prosthetics and life support stole her breath. What would that grouchy medic have to say about the risk he was taking?

She scuttled away from Anakin until she was beyond the range of his blade before she scrambled to her feet. She shook the numbness out of her right arm, released the remainder of the sting in her shoulder to the Force, and flung herself at the roof where Palpatine perched. Even before her footing was secure, he had broken off his attack on Anakin to throw lightning at her. Catching it with her blade, she tried to press forward, but he held her off as the moments stretched into an eternity of desperate effort.

She caught a glimpse of Anakin ascending the ladder behind the Emperor. To distract Palpatine, she ducked, diving for his legs. He jumped away, spun, and caught Anakin's blade on his own. Blast! Anakin's clothes were soaked with sweat, and he was panting. Otherwise, he seemed to be in reasonable condition, all things considered.

A brisk ten minutes' march away, at the mouth of the canyon, Cody and his mismatched squad were locked in battle with an elite battalion from the Emperor's personal legion, while all around the base of the plateau, clones sowed confusion among the sentry units deployed to contain Skywalker, with a few dozen Wookiees guarding the north cliff directly below Kenobi's house.

Several hundred vod'e had stepped forward in response to Cody's call for volunteers. Sorted into agile ad hoc units, they had arrived under cover of darkness and scattered themselves in a ragged perimeter around the base of the plateau. They had remained camouflaged until the Imperial troops had taken up their posts, whereupon the clones had begun a superb game of catch-me-if-you-can. Knowing he would be fully occupied with the defense of the canyon, Cody had encouraged each unit to set up its own chain of command and to operate in whatever manner would be most effective for their particular mix of men, materiel, and terrain.

The greatest challenge had been collecting enough arms and ammunition to give Operation Chaos a chance, but between the funds Kraytrider had paid for Jabba's assassination, a shady backroom arms dealer with whom Banai had an undisclosed relationship, and a quick call to the Rebellion, courtesy of Rex's Alliance credentials, a sufficient miscellany of weapons had been procured. They had also plundered Kraytrider's shop for tools, wires, and a pile of odds and ends that would have done Skywalker's ingenuity proud in his youth. Hex had gleefully reported that his masterclass in improvised explosive devices had been very well attended. If Skywalker had an issue with this thievery, he could take it up with Cody once the dust had settled.

Chatter and Dash had gathered with a group of electronics enthusiasts to jury rig devices modeled on the old GAR droid poppers. Deployed against stormtrooper armor, they assured Cody, the devices would knock out their opponents' electronics systems.

They had very few comms, but it was best not to rely on comms in any case. The clones were spread far enough out and over a large enough territory that they were in little danger of interfering with one another's strategies. Comms would be more a liability than an asset in this situation, more likely to provide an avenue for the Imps to track them than to significantly improve their coordination.

Even before the battle commenced, Theec and Banai had proven their worth, insisting on bringing far more water rations than Cody would have thought necessary and guiding the convoy by secret paths across the desert. They had shown the clone irregulars how to wrap their arms, legs, and faces against sand and sun and explained the best ways to endure the heat. It remained to be seen whether they would prove themselves under fire, but as logistical support officers, they were unmatched.

Around noon, Dash reported the approach of five landing craft to the south. As the little group prepared for battle, Cody gave his last instructions—in Standard for Theec and Banai's sake. "Remember, our task is not to advance on the enemy. Our task is to hold this position as long as possible. Don't waste any resource you have. Hold your fire until you can see yourself in their eyeplates. And don't let them get up to the snipers. We are Vod'e; may they make songs about us." The last line did not sound nearly as heroic in Standard as it did in Mando'a, but he said it anyway. If this was their last battle, let them fight as they had been created to fight.

He tapped his gauntleted fingers on the white helmet under his arm. "Buckets up."

The five clones donned the despised stormtrooper helmets for the last time. Dash and Scratch scrambled up to the snipers' nests they had selected, and the rest of the men concealed themselves behind boulders and in clefts in the ravine's walls.

The lumbering Imperial Dropship Transports settled heavily to earth and disgorged their cargo of stormtroopers, who formed up in units and advanced on the defile. Cody had ordered his team to use comms only when absolutely necessary to communicate with the snipers. He held up his closed fist in a signal to hold back, only dropping his hand when the first unit was within ten meters of their position. The barrage of fire took the stormtroopers by surprise and the commanders reacted slowly. Most of the first company had been mowed down before the Imperials recovered enough to fall back.

"Dash, Scratch, pick off the commanders if you can identify them," Cody said quietly into his comm in Mando'a. Two clicks answered him, an old Clone Wars code that indicated understanding and compliance.

Once the troopers had regrouped, they charged the squad's position. Cody again signaled his men to hold their fire until their opponents had closed in. This time, in addition to the boulders and other obstacles the canyon presented, the stormtroopers were hindered by the bodies already on the ground. The combination was deadly, and in addition to the casualties among the rank and file, the snipers picked off one of the commanders at the rear.

The battle continued under the unforgiving suns, wave after wave of stormtroopers throwing themselves into the gap. Fifteen minutes into the firefight, Cody counted his group lucky that they had had no casualties. He had positioned Theec to his right in the most sheltered spot, between a large outcropping of rock and the cliff. As Cody had expected, he was not much of a marksman, but the massed enemy meant even he had a fairly high kill ratio. Banai had turned out to be surprisingly accurate with a projectile rifle, and the weapon punched through armor more effectively than the clones' blasters.

Nevertheless, the stormtroopers kept coming, and the clones were running through blaster packs at a dismal pace. Cody rammed another cartridge home and returned to firing. How many more packs did everyone have? He risked a quick glance down. He had five left. At this rate, they could last ten minutes—perhaps fifteen at best. The pile of bodies was becoming a barrier to the Imperial troops' approach, but, of course, that would not hold them long once their opponents ran out of ammunition. Cody hoped that at least they had bought enough time for Skywalker and Kenobi to do their job. Shrugging off the concern as the distraction it was, Cody returned his attention to his task.

Leia poked restlessly at the cuffs on her wrist. Stymied, she reached for Luke's wrist.

"Leia. Stop," he said, jerking his hands away from her. "What are you doing?"

"Shh," she whispered, slanting an apprehensive look toward the door. The two Royal Guards had bound them to seats in the main cabin of the shuttle and closed the hatch, leaving the twins alone. Despite the heat, both had sat shivering for some time. Leia wondered what had happened to their father and Uncle Ben. She had known when Dad said good-bye in Mos Espa that he thought he might not come back. But it wasn't until she encountered the Emperor herself that she really understood how dangerous he was. What if Dad was already dead? Or Uncle Ben? She stretched out with the Force, but the only person she could sense clearly was a guard standing in the hallway outside the hatch. She was pretty sure that meant the other guard had left the shuttle. Uncle Ben had not skimped on her training; all the same, certain skills continued to be largely theoretical for her. Distinguishing beings at a distance was one of them. "Can you tell if Dad or Uncle Ben is still alive?"

"Or Ahsoka," he whispered back. "I think Ahsoka is. I don't know Dad or Obi-Wan well enough to sense them. I think so. I hope so. But I can't tell for sure. Palpatine's alive, though."

"I know that. I can feel the Darkness. Don't move. Let me try again." In response to his impatient expression, she said, "I want to open the lock." She could sense the mechanism, but her fine control of the Force proved unequal to grasping the tumblers solidly.

"Here. I'll do it," Luke said, but his efforts were no more successful than hers had been. Leia wasn't sure how long they had struggled with it when there was an odd noise outside the door. A moment later something thumped. The door swept open to admit a well-loved blue and silver astromech. A royal guard slid down the wall to slump across the threshold, preventing the door from sliding shut.

"Artoo!"

"Sh!" Luke hissed with an apprehensive look down the vacant hallway.

Leia leaned forward to whisper piercingly, "Are we glad to see you!"

The astromech rolled his projector in silent greeting and extended his circular saw invitingly. Leia leaned back in her chair, pulling the cuff chain taut against the saw's blade until the links separated. The cuff itself was still wrapped around her wrist, but she decided it was an improvement anyway. While the droid worked on Luke's bonds, Leia approached the door with trepidation, but the guard did not stir. From the scorch marks, it appeared Artoo had zapped him with his arc welder. He must have hit his head in his fall. Warily, she pulled aside his voluminous robe. Luck—or the Force—was with them. The lightsabers the Emperor had confiscated from them when they were captured hung at his belt. She felt safer once she had Ahsoka's hilt in her hand. Artoo had freed Luke by now and she handed Dad's old weapon to her brother.

Luke clipped the hilt to his belt and lifted the guard's helmet off. The guard sighed deeply. Luke's concerned blue eyes met hers. "Should we kill him? I mean—he serves the Emperor. It's probably smart to kill him…"

"But it's not the Jedi way," Leia finished.

"Well, I was going to say, it doesn't seem right to kill an unconscious man, but same difference, I guess."

Artoo burbled softly.

"What's he saying?" Luke asked.

"I'm not exactly sure. But I think he agrees that we shouldn't kill him outright."

"Well, we can't leave him here. Here. Help me." Luke grabbed his left shoulder. Leia grabbed the other and they dragged the guard into the main cabin until the door hissed shut.

Luke started pressing buttons and peering into storage compartments.

"Let's tie him to a seat," Leia suggested.

"No, I've got a better idea." Luke grinned and gestured toward a narrow door. Leia craned her neck around him. It was a tiny but fully-equipped medical bay. Together they managed to shove the guard onto the bunk. Luke secured the acceleration straps over his arms and torso. It took him another minute to locate the corresponding straps for his ankles. "Can you seal the door, Artoo?"

Their guard out of the way, they crept into the deserted corridor. The main hatch still stood open. The bodies of several Royal Guards lay tumbled on the ground outside. Luke nudged her and held up seven fingers, then gestured at her with a questioning expression. She counted the visible guards and nodded. They were all accounted for. That left the Emperor, but there was no sign of him—or of Dad, Uncle Ben, or Ahsoka—outside. Where could they have gone?

About to suggest they sneak around the hut to investigate, she paused and cocked her head. There were voices in the cockpit. Luke pressed his finger to his lips. She nodded her understanding. They sneaked silently along the hallway to the open door of the cockpit. Two men in black uniforms sat at the console, facing away from the twins. She looked questioningly at Luke. He bobbed his head once in agreement.

Hollering fit to wake the dead, as Uncle Ben would have said, they bounded inside, swinging their lightsabers. The two men snatched for their sidearms as they half rose from their seats. Luke deflected a shot, which cracked the viewscreen. The officer on the right straightened fully. Leia waved her lightsaber in front of her, less in a deliberate defensive pattern and more in an uncontrolled instinct to defend herself. Before she quite knew what had happened, her blade met slight resistance, and the officer fell forward over the back of his seat. His body slid down the left side of the chair onto the floor.

Leia stared, wide-eyed, at his blank eyes. Reluctantly, slowly, her gaze traveled beyond his face to the deep wound that marred his chest. The world felt distant. She swayed. Something shoved at her in the Force. Her head turned sluggishly toward the source.

Luke was shouting, but the sound was fuzzy. Vaguely, she registered that he had intercepted a blaster bolt before it struck her. She traced its path back to the other officer. Luke's lightsaber flashed in a defensive pattern, then swept out and down. The man cried out and fell on top of his fellow.

Luke and Leia gaped at each other.

Leia, nauseated, found her voice first. "I—I—"

Luke nodded. His face was pale and slick with a sheen of sweat. She wondered if her expression was as shocked as his.

Artoo screeched and shoved his way between them, inserting his data jack into a port behind the pilot's seat. He twittered and tweeted for several moments, before settling into a satisfied burble. Leia leaned gingerly over the copilot's seat, trying to avoid the sight of the slack faces on the floor. She studied the instruments, but she had no idea what Artoo had done. Luke bent down beside her with a grunt. There were sounds of something weighty being dragged across the floor. She kept her attention on the console and tried not to think about what her brother was doing. Then he was leaning over her shoulder to get a glimpse of the instruments.

"What did he do?" Leia asked.

"I don't know," Luke said uncertainly.

The twins looked at Artoo, who whistled cheerily. They returned their attention to the console. A screen in the center came to life. Words marched across it.

ALL COMBAT AIR PATROL CRAFT ORDERED TO PULL BACK TO A PERIMETER OF TWENTY-FIVE KILOMETERS DISTANT UNTIL SUMMONED.

"How—How did you do that?" Leia gasped.

CLASSIFIED PROTOCOLS. The accompanying chirp was smug.

"No, seriously, Artoo," Luke demanded, "tell us what you did."

NEGATIVE. SECURITY CLEARANCE REQUIRED FOR DEBRIEF ON CLASSIFIED OPERATIONS.

"A security clearance? You've got to be kidding."

ACCESS REQUIRES CLEARANCE LEVEL GAMMA TWO OR HIGHER.

"Come on, Artoo," Leia wheedled. "This isn't a military operation."

Artoo's dome whirled once in each direction. He removed his data arm from the jack with an audible snap and stowed it in its compartment.

Luke threw his head back with a frustrated groan. "Oh, all right. At least we don't have to worry about airstrikes now."

"Airstrikes? Would they really send one while the Emperor is here?"

"Um, probably not while he's here, but if he left. He might order an airstrike and kill Dad that way." Luke squeezed between the seats and into the pilot's chair. His hands darted over buttons and knobs.

"What are you doing?" Leia's glare should have knocked him into the viewscreen.

"Getting ready for takeoff," he said matter-of-factly. "Sit down and help."

"What? No! You can't fly this thing!"

Luke paused to glance at her, a mischievous smile flitting across his face. "Sure I can. I'm removing His Majesty's escape route. And…providing air support. The Emperor has air support. We should too." He nodded once. "The TIEs might come back. I'm sure it's better to be in the air than on the ground."

"But we should help Dad and Uncle Ben," Leia protested weakly.

"Dad said we're an ex—ex—oh, I forget the word. A weakness. He didn't want us to help him."

"So I'm sure he wouldn't want us flying to help him, either."

"He only meant he doesn't want us around the Emperor." Luke's expression grew serious. "Be honest, Leia. Do you want to face the Emperor again?"

She shivered. "No. He—he scares me. But—but I want to help Dad. And Uncle Ben."

Luke turned back to the console, hands busy again. "Yeah, so I'm going to help. He doesn't want me to fight beside him. Fine. But I can fly." The engines ignited with a roar. "Suit yourself. But I could use a copilot," he yelled over the noise.

Leia pressed her lips together, hesitated, and dropped into the copilot's seat. "Fine," she yelled back. "What do you want me to do?"

"Close the hatch."

Leia hunted among the controls until she located a button labelled hatch. The roar of the engines was reduced to a rumble. Tilting first to the right, then to the left, the shuttle lifted jerkily off the ground.

As they rose, the glow of lightsaber blades caught her eye. "Luke, look! They're on the roof."

Luke looked up from the instruments. There was a screech from the left side of the shuttle, and the ship shook a bit. Artoo squealed. Luke yelped and glued his eyes to the instruments again.

"What was that noise?" Leia demanded.

Luke grimaced. "I scraped the wing on the hut. Sorry."

"You don't know what you're doing. Set us down!"

"No, no, it's fine. I figured it out."

The shuttle had cleared the east end of the plateau by now. The wings reached their full extension. Luke touched the rudder cautiously, and the shuttle veered to the right. Flashes to the south caught her eye as the shuttle banked. She inhaled sharply. She'd never seen a battle, but the clones had planned to guard the path to the hut. She half-stood, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, but the ship was already circling away toward the west. On the console, a light flashed and a tone chimed insistently.

"What is that?"

Luke glanced at it. "Comm. We're being hailed."

"What—What do we do?" Leia rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants.

"Umm. Answer it, I guess."

Leia hesitantly pressed a button beside the flashing light. A tinny voice said, "Shuttle 001, you did not confirm your flight plan with ISD Majestic. What is your route and destination?" Leia gestured wildly to Luke, who stared back blankly. "Shuttle 001, is everything in order? Respond."

Luke jabbed a finger toward another button. Leia pressed it, and he said with false bravado, "Uh, ISD Majestic, this is Shuttle 001. We are fine here. The—um, the Emperor wanted us to move. We were—um—in the way."

"What? Who are you? What is your service number?"

Luke's eyes went wide. He hesitated. "It's—uh…seven three one."

"Unidentified pilot, maintain present course and heading. An escort will intercept you. Comply with all directives."

"Uh, no. Don't send an escort. We have…uh…an emergency. Dangerous situation. We'll return to our point of origin."

"Unidentified pi—"

Luke made a slashing motion across his throat. Leia tilted her head, totally confused. He jabbed his finger toward the comm again and shook his head. With a questioning air she mimed pushing the second button. He frowned heavily and mouthed, "Off." Okay. Not that one. She gestured to the first button. He nodded vigorously so she pushed it. The following silence was both comforting and ominous.

He heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm going to land. I don't know what they'll do if we stay in the air."

She rolled her eyes. "I told you not to fly this thing. But you just had to take it up."

"Well, yeah," he replied, scorn heavy in his tone. "It's the Emperor's shuttle. It's got to be one of the most tricked-out ships in the galaxy. Maybe later…"

Leia shook her head. Boys!

Luke banked until the nose of the shuttle faced east again and began a gradual descent over the pinnacles of the Jundland Wastes, trying to feather the engines, all the while making minute adjustments to the lateral controls. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. A sudden gust of wind buffeted the ship. He jerked the stick, and both twins were thrown to the side. Artoo screeched again, sliding across the floor and bumping into the copilot's body.

The hut lay ahead of them on their left as they cleared the last pinnacle. Palpatine's black figure stood with outstretched arms atop the dome of the hut, his robe whipping in the wind. Leia's stomach clenched with fear. She saw no sign of Dad or Uncle Ben or Aunt Ahsoka.

The shuttle was less than fifty meters from the ground, but the wind was increasing in speed and volume, roaring and drumming over the noise of the engines. Something hissed along the hull. Luke fought to remain on course. Between one breath and the next, the viewscreen went murky. Leia gripped the arms of her seat tightly.

Attention riveted to the sensors, Luke bit his lip. Leia checked the altimeter. Five meters to go. The shuttle continued rocking in the wind. Something scraped along the underside of the ship, and there was a loud crash outside. A jolt, a screech, and the shuttle's nose bumped and jumped. The engines cut out. Then the thrusters died. The lights on the console died. Several things crunched. At last the shuttle settled heavily to the ground, canted toward the right with the deck slanted toward the rear.

Artoo chittered and shrieked, and it was probably just as well they couldn't understand what he was saying.

Luke slumped over the flight controls and said in a shaky voice. "What was that?"

"Sandstorm," Leia said through stiff lips.