A cool wind blew across my skin.
Out of the dark of a half-collapsed building came uneasy sounds — a window creaking mournfully somewhere, or maybe it wasn’t a window at all.
The cold brick felt good against my bare feet.
We’d holed up on the tenth floor of a concrete giant that had somehow survived the war intact.
Well, mostly intact — part of the building had caved in, maybe from a stray shot, maybe just bad construction.
Either way, it worked in our favor now.
From up here we had a perfect view of the fortress spread out below.
Bright searchlight beams cut through the darkness, sweeping back and forth, and the distant metallic drone of marching feet carried strangely clear through the quiet.
Through binoculars, I could make out Separatist droids on the towers, their heads swiveling side to side.
The high walls made the place look unassailable at first glance — one wall alone ran a little over half a kilometer.
Machine-gun nests jutted out from the wall like black splotches against the lit-up fortress.
Inside, I could just make out tiny, toy-like columns of mechanical killers pacing back and forth.
“Shaman, I don’t like this plan.
What if a searchlight catches us, or something else goes wrong?
Couldn’t we do it the old way — climb the wall on foot?”
Before I could answer, a voice flew out of the dark from the back of the room.
“Quit whining, Kryust.
Everyone knows you’re scared of heights.
That’s why you never move up in rank — scared of climbing too.”
A few laughs came from different corners, but nobody laughed outright.
Everyone was on edge.
This was the first job of this scale any of us had pulled.
“Shut it, Vas.”
Kryust snapped back — a scrawny guy of about twenty-four, the best safecracker we had.
He barely carried any weapons, just a couple of pistols, mostly for show.
His only job was cracking the gate open if things went sideways.
“Or I’ll cut off those cat ears of yours and sell them on the black market.”
“Who’d even want those?
You think somebody’s actually buying?”
That came from the far corner, where Roft sat — a huge man with a beard down to his chest and an electronic eye.
A cigar glowed bright between his teeth.
His right hand stroked his six-barreled Z-6 rotary blaster cannon like a lover, the one he’d honestly stolen off a supply depot belonging to our clone friends.
He said he fell for that gun the second he laid eyes on it.
Some people claimed he even slept curled around it and called it Berta.
“I don’t know, Roft, but the fur fetish crowd would probably love a gift like that.
Or Vas could just buy them back himself.”
“I’ll cut off Kryust’s too, and then we can swap.”
“Get lost.”
“Gladly — straight to your beloved Shilla’s place, so she can pour me a drink to celebrate another successful raid.
Am I right, gentlemen?”
This time, everyone met Vas’s little speech with cheers, even Kryust himself.
Truth was, the insults were mostly for show.
Vas turned out to be a surprisingly good-hearted guy underneath it all, with his own solid sense of right and wrong.
But that’s not what we kept him around for.
Average height, twenty or so, black eyes to match his black hair, a blaster rifle slung over his back, a light armor plate covering his chest.
“That’s enough out of you two.”
The Old Man cut in, the one who oversaw this whole circus.
“Ten-minute readiness.
Let’s run the plan one more time.
You good, Shaman?”
“I’m good.”
I was in an unexpectedly good mood right then.
The usual chatter that annoyed me just drifted right past.
The sense of a fight coming had me buzzing, the Force pulsing through me in dark waves, straining to break loose.
Not long now, and I’d finally get to enjoy the fight.
Just a little longer.
Why did time have to move so slowly?
“The signal will be the destruction of the nearest tower.
The moment that goes off, the shield activates, and our soldiers advance — practically marching — toward the enemy, staying just outside the range of the fortress guns.”
“And what if they just get mowed down out there, or the attention ends up on the tower instead?”
Someone from the group asked.
“Doesn’t matter what happens after that.
We’ve got it all figured out, and their attention’s going to lock onto the opposite side.
Not our problem.” He tapped the table.
“We need to disable the shield generators and open the gate.
And if anybody interrupts me one more time, I’m docking your cut of the raid.
So shut up and listen.
On my signal, we grapple onto the tower wreckage and make our way to the fortress wall without much trouble.
The shield only blocks blaster bolts — everything else passes right through, we’ve confirmed that more than once, and the Republic’s people say the same.
We’ll be done in twenty minutes.
The Boss promised each of you a cut of the take, depending on how much you contribute.”
Satisfied murmurs went around the room.
They kept talking about something else after that, but I’d stopped listening.
I could feel a vague unease building.
Something wasn’t right.
Scanning the horizon and the fortress below one more time, I spotted a black dot flying in from the Upper City toward the stronghold.
A couple of seconds later, four more dots came into view behind it.
A convoy?
I should say something.
“Hey, Boss — we’ve got uninvited guests out here.”
“We see them.
Four vulture-class fighters and one small transport.
What sarlacc dragged them out here — we weren’t counting on an air assault.”
“Do we pull back?”
The fighters sitting in the room went quiet, watching us closely.
We’ve got solid intel that the Chemists have their eye on this fortress too — tonight, or I guess technically already today.
They want us to clear the path so they can walk in on a silver platter.
Bastards.
But they could take the place on their own too.
We’ve only got the one shot at this — we don’t have the luxury of picking a fight with them right now.”
“Understood.
But hold our people back a minute.”
“Damn right I’m not sending my people in blind.
Let’s wait — maybe those things fly right past, or clear out somewhere.”
“No.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I can feel it.”
“Doesn’t matter either way, we’ve got no other choice.
We need this position — move the second we take out that tower.
Out.”
I passed along the gist of the conversation to the guys and went back to watching our targets.
They landed.
But half an hour later, the fighters cleared off.
“Today’s our lucky day, boys.”
Koven’s satisfied voice came through my earpiece.
“Sticking to the plan.
Whatever they were guarding must be a lot more interesting if they were escorting it with that much muscle.
Sticking to the plan.”
Almost the second he finished talking, a blue flash cut through the night’s darkness, and the tower nearest us lit up in a burst of flame.
Bright bolts of blaster fire flashed in the distance.
An alarm blared over the fortress.
The shimmering shield began rising, sealing the base off from our attack completely.
Through the binoculars, I could clearly see the columns of droids pulling toward the far wall.
Time to move.
We fired our grapples, secured the lines, and started descending toward the fortress in groups of three.
Kryust was shaking, but a solid kick from the Old Man didn’t leave him much choice — hold on, or fall from a very great height.
The first part of the plan went smoothly.
By the time I landed on the wall, the guys had already taken up positions and disarmed a dozen sentries left posted there.
The harder part was still ahead.
The command center wasn’t far, but we needed to get inside without making noise.
If the group got spotted going in, it was over for everyone.
But what did I care about that?
Bloodlust surged through me, swallowing everything else whole.
My job was to sow chaos and pull the tin cans’ attention.
And I was happy to get started.
I waved to the guys and waited until they’d vanished into the building.
My hour had come!