Yet There Be Method In It
The shuttle engines rumbled and the stars stretched into infinity. They had made up a little time. Anakin hoped the delay in their departure was not going to cause problems, but if it did, he had no one to blame but himself.
"A surprisingly uneventful takeoff," Kenobi said from the copilot's seat.
Anakin gave him an unimpressed look as he released his own harness and stood. "It's time to brief everyone on this mission. You too," he said to Artoo, who tootled and led the way into the VIP cabin.
Anakin stopped dead in the hatchway; Kenobi nearly trod on his heels. "What is the meaning of this?"
Adorning the far bulkhead was a quick sketch of a clone trooper's helmet peeking over a wall. The legend read in Mando'a Fett was here.
Hex and Scratch glanced up.
"We thought the décor was a little grim, sir." Hex's smile was sunny.
Scratch blinked disingenuously. "It needed something to liven things up."
"This shuttle has to be returned to the garrison, Troopers. Semchan will not be amused."
"But, sir," drawled Dash from the dignitary's bench where he was lounging beside Rex, "think how much the governor will appreciate this fine art spicing up his drab VIP cabin."
Kenobi shoved Anakin out of the way and groaned. "I thought that ended with the war. What does it mean, anyway?"
"Sorry, General," said Cody, pausing as he donned the stormtrooper armor Anakin had requisitioned from Semchan. His impassive face was at complete odds with the glee he radiated in the Force. "I thought it would be good for morale—you know, let the troops blow off a little steam. You did say we could damage Imperial property."
Rex, already in his armor, snorted a laugh, hastily muffled behind his hand.
Anakin shook his head at Cody's spurious air of earnestness. Then again, in the grand scheme of things, the defacement of one out-of-date shuttle was unlikely to affect the success of his plans. "I'm glad to see you're having fun with this deadly serious mission. All I can say is: get it out of your systems now. We can't afford shenanigans where we're going."
"And where exactly is that?" Cody asked, eyes sharp once more.
"Right. Listen up."
Hex and Scratch sat down on the jump seats under their graffiti while the rest of the clones disposed themselves elsewhere. Kenobi leaned on the hatch frame.
"This mission is perhaps the most hazardous one we will face before the Emperor. Our objective is to infiltrate the most secure Imperial facility in the galaxy—a top secret library—and obtain the schematics for a doomsday weapon called the Death Star. When completed, it will have the capability to destroy an entire planet."
Kenobi straightened, consternation darkening his features.
Rex said, "With all due respect, the Empire can already bombard a planet to slag."
"True. But the Death Star will be able to vaporize it with one shot." Aghast profanity rippled through the cabin. Anakin lifted his voice. "It must be destroyed before it becomes operational. When I deserted, the first superlaser tests were still two years away. I have heard of no 'accidents' that could have been a test firing, so I assume it is not yet complete. However, the Emperor and Tarkin are both pushing production, and I have no way of knowing whether the timetable has accelerated. It is imperative that we obtain those plans."
"But—how?" asked Cody. "No disrespect, sir, but bullying the governor into supporting a local revolution is one thing. Making your way into 'the most secure installation in the galaxy' is something else. Unless you still have codes that will get you through."
"I'm sure all my codes have been deactivated or are being monitored. Quite possibly both. No, Vader cannot get us into, let alone out of, Scarif. Let me be clear: it is quite as imperative to get off the planet as it is to get in. If we steal the plans but cannot get them offworld, then our efforts will be for nothing."
"So what's the plan?" Kenobi asked. "You said you have one."
"I do. Our first step is…"
"Shuttle Tydirium, you have missed your shield gate arrival window. Your landing clearance has been revoked."
"We did? I'm sure our slot was at 1330."
"That was almost an hour ago, Tydirium." The officer manning Scarif shield gate ops sounded bored. Good. That's what Anakin had been hoping for.
"What? No—it's…" Kenobi made a show of checking his chronometer against the flight plan. "Oh." He gave an excellent impression of sheepishness. "I see."
"You must return to your point of origin and file a revised flight plan."
"But it took over a day to get the first slot. Our reservations at the lodging house are only for four days. How long is this likely to take?"
"I couldn't say, Tydirium."
"Look, could I speak with your commander? See if there's something we could work out? The delay was beyond our control. Some sort of reorganization of the government on Tatooine that required Colonel Semchan's attention. I have a party of officers from the garrison in desperate need of some R&R and it's taken months to arrange this leave…."
A nerve-wracking pause ensued before the comm crackled to life again. "R&R, huh?" The controller's amusement was audible. "All right, Tydirium. It's irregular, but I'll see what I can do. Hold position."
The comm fell silent.
Kenobi grimaced. "I don't see why I have to do all the talking."
"Because you have that impressively snooty Core accent. Even without trying, you sound like an Imperial officer." Anakin flashed him an impudent grin.
Kenobi lifted his eyes. It wasn't quite a roll. "We didn't even make it off Tatooine before you had to modify this plan."
"It hasn't failed yet—don't write it off too soon."
The comm spat static for a moment before the sentry said, "Tydirium, you are cleared to land. Transmitting the course to you now. Do not deviate from it. And enjoy your stay. Do be careful, though. It's monsoon season down there."
The mockery in the controller's voice was blatant in spite of the tinny comm.
"Understood," replied Kenobi. "And we'll gladly take rain after twelve months in the suns-blasted desert. Tydirium out."
Anakin sighed in relief and nudged the accelerator, following the course at the specified velocity. After going through the customary exchange of codes at the gate, they were given clearance to pass through. As instructed, he dropped straight down over the Citadel Tower complex to clear the shield gate. The ship had barely reached their assigned cruising altitude when it bucked and an explosion sounded.
Anakin grinned again. Hex was right on time. Kenobi grunted.
"Are you worried?" Anakin asked, still grinning.
Kenobi gripped the arm of the copilot's seat. "I think the explosion was gratuitous; you just wanted to be able to shift the blame for the crash."
"We need a reason to land near the tower," Anakin said with great dignity, pulling the stick so the shuttle listed to starboard. "A recreation pass isn't going to get us into the Tower complex." He wiggled the stick, causing the shuttle to buck again, then pushed it forward to drop five hundred meters.
"Tydirium, you are deviating from your assigned path and flying erratically. Return to the designated route."
"Control, we have suffered a mechanical failure of some sort. We believe there was an explosive malfunction in the guidance system. Onboard diagnostics indicate it may have originated in the stabilizer or the rudder. We are attempting to maintain control, but we must set down ASAP."
Anakin twitched the stick again. The shuttle danced sideways and lost a few hundred more meters of altitude.
"Roger, Tydirium, a patrol pilot reports a trail of smoke from your aft belly. Transferring you to Ground Control now for landing guidance. Be careful. Visibility is near zero at lower altitudes." All mockery was gone from the controller's voice.
"Understood, Control. And thank you."
A new voice crackled over the comm. "Tydirium, this is Tower Ground Control. We have you on our scopes. You will land at LP8 directly below your current position. Transmitting coordinates."
"Acknowledged. Coordinates received."
"What is your status? Will you need a medical crew?"
"Negative, Control. We have no injuries. No fire, either. Onboard diagnostics indicate no hull breaches. The landing struts and repulsors have sustained damage. Touchdown will be rough but should have no complications."
"Acknowledged, Tydirium. Are your instruments functioning? Do you need guidance?"
"Negative. Instruments appear to be functioning within normal parameters."
"Acknowledged. Maintain an open comm in the event of an emergency."
"Roger that," Kenobi replied.
The comm fell silent. Anakin continued making the shuttle imitate a bantha with sunstroke. When they reached a thousand meters, well within the cloud cover, he nodded at Kenobi, who depressed the cabin emergency alert twice in rapid succession. Another jolt and explosion. Hex was doing his job perfectly.
Anakin pushed the stick all the way forward. As the shuttle began to plunge, Kenobi shouted into the comm, "That was another explosion! We've lost forward propulsion."
"Tydirium, report!"
"Another explosion in the—" He shut down the comm and touched a button on a small device duct-taped to the console to his right. A small pop echoed from the console. "We're clear of the radar," he said.
"All right. Fifteen seconds to landing," Anakin replied. "I hadn't counted on the weather; the flipping maneuver is too dangerous. No one will see it anyway." He activated the intercom to the main cabin. "Fire torpedoes."
The projectiles Hex had modified exploded, scattering a debris cloud all around them. Anakin dropped through the debris, folded the wings, and set the shuttle under a canopy of palm trees. Rain streamed across the forward view screen.
In the main cabin the clones were looking a little green but didn't complain. They had donned the rest of their armor, although they had not put on the helmets yet.
"Excellent work, Hex," Anakin said. "Control may never realize we survived. More immediately, they don't know exactly where the shuttle is. It might give us enough time, if we hurry. Rex, are you all set?" Anakin asked as the rest of the team grabbed their weapons.
"Yes," Rex said. "Chatter tested the comms a minute ago. Only—do you think the relay will work in this weather?"
"It should," said Chatter. "I'll boost the signal with the Tower's system once we're in."
"I hope we'll make it back here. But stay alert and keep the engines warm, just in case," Anakin reminded him.
"Yes, si—Yes."
"One benefit of the rain: they'll probably be slow to investigate. But people will be suspicious when we arrive soaking wet."
"We found these, sir." Dash extended a waterproof poncho. "It'll help some."
"Thanks." Anakin swung it over his shoulders and pulled up the hood.
"One moment, if you please," said Kenobi, a determined expression on his face.
"The chrono is ticking. Can't it wait?" Anakin asked.
"I don't think it should. It's been too long as it is—over twenty years too long, I think." He aborted an awkward attempt to stroke his nonexistent beard, then abandoned his impulse to fold his arms when he found no robe sleeves to stuff them in. At last, he stood stiffly with his hands at his sides, pulling on the unfamiliar tunic hem. "You were right, Anakin. When you said the Republic and—and the Jedi used the clones. I—I'm ashamed to admit I never thought of it in that light."
He faced Cody, who tightened his arm around the helmet he was holding. "You were an excellent commander. I respected your skills and the results you got from your men. I was uncomfortable with what I found at Kamino, but once the war began, I never had time to consider all the implications. The Council was wrong." He paused and lowered his head. "I was wrong."
Cody's stare was measured. The muscle in Kenobi's cheek that always twitched when he was nervous began its dance. After a pause that stretched to uncomfortable lengths, Cody said, "Yes, you were." Kenobi's head bowed lower. "But the Jedi didn't deserve to be betrayed by your troops, either. I've regretted it ever since."
Kenobi met Cody's eyes again. "We both have regrets, it seems. I'm willing to let bygones be bygones if you are."
"Yes, sir."
Another uncomfortable pause stretched between them. At last, Cody stretched out his hand. Diffidently, Kenobi reached back. They exchanged a firm grip for a moment and something eased in both their faces.
Anakin glanced around the group. Rex was avoiding his eyes, fidgeting restlessly with his helmet. He glanced up and their eyes caught awkwardly. Anakin swallowed and looked away.
The other men were watching that handclasp with understanding looks—mixed with not a little envy. Tension he hadn't even been aware of settled in the Force.
"I'm truly sorry to cut this short," Anakin said, "but time is flying and we need every moment."
The spell broke.
"Of course." Kenobi swirled the poncho to settle around his shoulders. "As long as it's time flying and not you, we should be fine."
Cody snickered and knocked his fingers against his helmet. "Buckets up, vod'e."
"K'oyacyi, vod," Rex said. Like an echo down the years, gauntlets slapped against armor as Rex clasped Cody's forearms.
"K'oyacyi." Cody slipped on his helmet.
"I hate these things," grumbled Hex through the vocoder. "The HUD is a piece of junk and I can't see anything. Why the Empire traded in Phase II for this garbage is a mystery."
"My money's on government appropriations," said Dash.
Anakin ignored the bickering and led the little crew out of the shuttle. They quick-marched through the undergrowth, sweating in the damp air.
"I hadn't considered how humid it would be." Kenobi was puffing a bit and shouting to be heard over the wind.
Anakin nodded. Artoo's whistle sounded mournful as his wheels struggled over the terrain.
"I'd think it's a welcome change after living on Tatooine all those years," jibed Cody.
Kenobi laughed. Everyone fell silent after that, focused on trudging through the blinding rain and the sucking sand. They reached the edge of the undergrowth and surveyed the almost-deserted hardstand. They could just make out two men bent over a pile of equipment on the far side. Anakin led his group through the underbrush around the perimeter toward the monorail station. He and Kenobi scanned the building with the Force, and they each lifted one finger. One life form in the station.
Signaling to the clones to wait and checking that the ground crew still had their backs to them, he slipped into the entrance bay. He peered around the edge of the doorway to confirm that the duty officer was inside. It appeared he was conferring with Flight Control, doubtless coordinating the S&R for their crash. He poked his head around the wall and nodded to Kenobi.
Artoo followed him under the overhang. They faded into the shadows on opposite sides of the blast doors that guarded the monorail. They waited perhaps three minutes before the doors opened with a whoosh of air as an emergency crew stepped out. The LP duty officer emerged from his office to confer with them, directing them toward the opposite side of the landing pad from the shuttle. As they marched away, Cody led the clones out of the undergrowth.
The officer blocked their way. "What are you doing here?"
Cody saluted. "Sir, we were running drills."
"Drills? In the rain? Why wasn't I wasn't informed?" Even from the rear, his disdainful skepticism was obvious.
"You weren't, sir? I don't know about that. Major Dixa ordered us to run drills on the beach. I assumed he had notified all necessary personnel."
"He did not inform me. What is the purpose of these drills?" The officer was sensibly standing under the protection of the station's overhang. The clones were not so lucky.
"I'm not certain, sir. He says he wants us to stay sharp. Maintain combat readiness."
"Combat? Here? During the monsoon? Who does he expect to fight? The fish?"
Cody did not laugh. "I don't know that either, sir. Maybe he thinks the Rebels will attack."
"The Rebels." The officer snorted. "Even if they did, they'd never make it past the shield gate. We're safe down here."
"I expect so, sir. But—orders are orders…"
"Of course, Trooper. So why are you here instead of—wherever you're supposed to be?"
"We've completed our drills. My men are wet, tired, and thirsty, so I was hoping we could take the monorail to the hub. Faster to get to our barracks. Our duty shifts are up as soon as we get back."
The officer tugged at his cap. "I see. Well, this car is commandeered at the moment for emergency crews, but I expect there's no harm if you ride the return trip as long as you don't delay the car. Flight Control is rushing them out here as fast as possible."
"Emergency crews, sir?"
"A shuttle crashed a few minutes ago. Some officers here from Tatooine for leave. If they survived, I guess they're getting a nice break from the desert." The officer laughed at his own witticism.
Cody dutifully chuckled this time and saluted, then led the clones to stand under the shelter of the overhang. It was perhaps a two minute wait for the next car. Anakin and Kenobi boarded unnoticed with Artoo amidst all the commotion. The doors slid shut and the car pulled away.
"This was an elaborate charade. Why didn't we land closer to the base?" asked Kenobi
"Because the Citadel is built on a group of small islands. There's a landing pad, but we couldn't have gotten permission to land there. And the crash would have been a lot harder to pull off. This train is the only surface approach to the tower." He leaned down to inspect his boots and groaned.
"What?"
"Wet sand. If there's anything worse than sand, it's wet sand." He wiped the worst of it away with the edge of his poncho. "Clean up as best you can. Wet we can explain. Sand is another story."
"What's the problem with wet sand, sir?" asked Scratch, brushing rather ineffectually at his legs and feet.
Cody grunted. "Don't get Skywalker started on sand, vod."
"It's an abomination. To waste something as precious as water by throwing it on the ground, and as if that weren't bad enough, to mix it with something as worthless as sand…"
The car slid to a stop and the doors rushed open, cutting off Anakin's diatribe before he could get warmed up. Another tech crew, this one with medical equipment, was waiting. Anakin's group cleared the way, and the crew hurried into the car.
Anakin glanced around. In spite of the weather outside, rain gear was rare. The few officers wearing ponchos were all heading in one direction. "Find a secure location to set up your equipment," he said to Chatter. The clones saluted and marched away.
"That way," he told Kenobi, nodding toward the slicker-clad officers. Kenobi raised his brows. "We'll be conspicuous if we don't." A few moments later they had deposited their outerwear in a locker room and returned to the main concourse.
"We need that list of high-level officers," Anakin told Artoo, who rolled toward a dataport. A moment later he twittered. Anakin studied the list. "Hmmm." A name jumped off the list at him. Perfect. "You're Yularen's aide," he said to Kenobi. "Let me see the installation map, Artoo."
At that moment a distinguished-looking officer with a commander's rank plaque passed. He turned back to Artoo. "You're not an Imperial droid! You're not authorized to be here."
Mando'a vocabulary:
K'oyacyi [Koy-AH-shee] – a term with multiple meanings: lit. a command, "stay alive"; used in farewell it means, "come back safely;" can also mean "cheers" or "hang in there"