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"What do we do?" Binalie asked nervously, looking around as if he expected to see a droid army clawing its way up out of the drainage grilles.
"We prepare to meet the enemy," Roshton said, his voice icy calm. Drawing his blaster, he aimed it at the ceiling and squeezed the trigger.
Even amid the loud auditory mosaic of factory noises, the distinctive sizzle of a stun blast easily cut through the noise.
Roshton fired three more times, paused, then fired twice.
Doriana strained his ears. From the next chamber over, he heard the faintsound of an answering signal. 'The alert's being pa.s.sed," Roshton said,putting away his comlink but keeping his blaster in his hand. "Come on-mycommand center's in the next a.s.sembly area."
A clone trooper lieutenant and the senior master tech were waiting whenthe three of them arrived at the command center, the former standing stifflyto attention, and the latter looking almost comical as he nervously shuffledhis weight back and forth between his feet. "Report," Roshton ordered,glancing at the status schematic that showed troop disposition.
"One Trade Federation C-9979 currently hovering over the plant," thelieutenant replied. "Approximately twenty STAPs running air support; threehave crashed to the south. One Trade Federation Lucrehulk-ca.s.s control cores.h.i.+p has appeared over the horizon.
No other vehicles currently in detection range."
"How bad?" Binalie murmured.
"Bad enough," Roshton told him. "A single C-9979 can carry eleven MTTlarge-transport vehicles, with a hundred twelve battle droids each, and ahundred fourteen AAT battle tanks.
Plus, the core s.h.i.+p up there probably has another couple more C-9979s in reserve if they get impatient."
Binalie had actually gone pale. "You're saying there could be over three thousand battle droids out there? Plus all those tanks?"
"Actually, if you add in the AAT crews, we're talking more like five thousand droids," Doriana murmured.
"So five thousand droids," Binalie bit out. "And you have, what, nine hundred men?"
Roshton smiled tightly. "I have nine hundred clone troopers," he corrected. 'There's a big diffe renc e. Lieutena nt, do we have spotters in position?"
"All doors are being watched," the clone trooper confirmed.
"Whenever they put down, we'll know it."
"Fortunately, there aren't many possibilities," Roshton murmured, looking at his status board again. 'The east and west doors are the only ones with the kind of clearance outside that a C-9979 needs."
"Agreed," the lieutenant said. 'The troops are currently layering at both of them."
"What does that mean, layering?" Binalie asked.
"They're forming successive defensive lines from those doors inward,"Roshton told him. "What about the north and northwest entrances? We're notleaving them unprotected, are we?"
"Wait a minute," Binalie interrupted again. "Defensive lines inside the plant? You can't fight in here."
"Well, we sure can't fight outside," Roshton pointed out. "Not without air support."
"Then you're not fighting at all," Binalie said flatly. 'The equipment in here is delicate and irreplaceable." Roshton snorted. "You'd rather just turn your plant over to the Separatists?"
"If those are my only two options, yes," Binalie said, his voice icy."Maybe you don't understand what this plant means to Cartao and the rest ofthe sector..."
"Just a minute," the lieutenant cut him off, his helmet c.o.c.king slightly to the side. 'They've lifted the comlink blocking.
Broadcasting a message on all public channels."
Roshton already had his comlink out."...ublic forces," a typically oilyNeimoidian voice came from the speaker. "You are surrounded and outnumbered.Surrender, or we will be forced to destroy you."
"I've heard that before," Roshton countered, giving a set of hand signalsto the lieutenant. The other nodded and turned away, and Doriana could hearthe faint sound of his voice through his helmet as he gave rapid orders. "ButI'll humor you.
What do you want?"
"We want Spaarti Creations," the Neimoidian said. "You will all step outside the west door and lay down your weapons..."
Roshton switched off the comlink. "West door," he told the lieutenant.
"Confirmed," the other replied. 'The C-9979 is setting down in the cleared area between the forest and the plant. We're s.h.i.+fting troops to respond."
Roshton nodded. "Let's go."
Binalie caught his arm as he started to leave. "Commander, I won't letyou fight in my plant," he warned. "If necessary, I'll open the doors to themmyself."
"You do and you'll be executed for treason," Roshton growled, shaking off his hand.
Binalie turned to Doriana, his face twisted with frustration.
"Doriana?"
"Lord Binalie is right, Commander," Doriana said. "Spaarti Creations is too valuable to risk damaging it."
Roshton turned furious eyes on him - "But at the same time, Lord Binalie, Commander Roshton cannot simply let his civilians fall into enemy hands,"
Doriana went on. "I'm afraid I don't see a clear answer here."
Binalie's lips compressed into a thin, bloodless line. "What if I take the techs through the tunnel to my house?" he suggested.
"Can you hold the droids off-outside-long enough for me to get them all clear?"
"We can try," Roshton said, studying his face a moment and then turningto the senior tech. "Get your people to a.s.sembly Area Four for evacuation.Lieutenant, let's go."
The two of them headed across the floor toward the west door at a fastrun. Doriana waited long enough to make sure Binalie and the senior tech wereindeed making for Area Four, then set off after the soldiers.
It was, after all, only proper that he should at least stay long enough to watch such brave soldiers begin their last battle.
The "west door" was in fact more like a major vehicle hangar than asimple doorway, consisting of a large transfer room behind a pair of slidingdoors big enough to handle anything a modern manufacturing plant could everneed. Doriana reached the transfer room to find that the huge doors had beenopened a crack, with Roshton and the lieutenant peering through the gap.
Throughout the transfer room hundreds of white-armored clone trooperswere moving purposefully around, settling into positions near the doors andbehind some of the heavy crate-moving vehicles parked along the walls, orsetting up a semicircle of tripod-mounted laser cannon on the floor a dozenmeters back from the doors. "What's happening?" he asked as he crossed to Roshton.
"They've landed," Roshton said, sounding distracted as he peered out thecrack. He had donned a clone trooper comlink headset, Doriana noted; probablylistening to a running status commentary from the rest of his officers. "Doingtheir little sensor scans to make sure the ground is clear of mines."
"What's the plan?" Doriana asked, taking a cautious peek between thedoors. Even set firmly on the ground, the landing s.h.i.+p loomed over them likean angry metal storm cloud.
"We stop them, of course," Roshton said shortly. "At the very least, we make them pay dearly for every square centimeter."
"What are you talking about?" Doriana asked, frowning. "Weren't youlistening back there? You can't fight in here." Roshton swiveled his head tolook at him. "I thought you just said that to get Binalie off our backs."
"Absolutely not," Doriana said. "My position was exactly as stated. Wecan't allow the techs to fall into Separatist hands-they know too much aboutour technology. But neither can we allow the plant to be damaged."
"So what you're saying is that I should move out into the open?" Roshtondemanded bluntly. 'That I should stand there and watch my troops getslaughtered just to buy Binalie time to evac the techs?"
"I'm sorry," Doriana said in a low, sincere voice. "I know that puts you in an impossible position. But I'm afraid we have no choice."
"We blasted well do have a choice," Roshton snapped. "And if you think...
" He paused. "What? All right, put him on."
"What is it?" Doriana asked.
"Your Jedi's arrived, along with Binalie's son," Roshton said briefly.
"Master Tories? Yes, this is Roshton."