Niner fumbled with the cabling. He steered the droid in a gentle arc so that it was square-on to the fence. It wasn’t the best course he’d ever steered, but with a five-hundred-meter blast zone, it was going to be good enough. He ducked. The wire mesh loomed in his face at the edge of the scoop, then strained and vibrated, tearing up posts with it as the droid pushed through, oblivious.

It was nearly at the wall. The building was five meters high; flat roof, no windows. They didn’t seem to like win­dows here. He heard a single shout, something like chuba, and he had to agree. This was going to fierfek someone’s watch with a lot of reports.

Niner yanked the cables apart and cut the droid’s power. Its momentum carried it on a few more meters, and metal twanged and squealed as the chain-link fence was stretched to the breaking point. The wires finally snapped back like a bowstring under the excavator’s wheels.

One, two, three …

The droid was at a dead stop hard against the wall. The blocks were beginning to crack, and gaps were opening between them. He had a sudden vision of finding himself buried in collapsing masonry and unable to move, and a combination of animal panic and a lifetime of training pro­pelled him out of the rubble and over the edge of the scoop. He fell flat from two meters and struggled to right himself. Then there was shouting and, fifty-kilo pack or not, he exe­cuted the fastest bugout of his career, Deece in one hand and the remote det control in the other.

There was one way out and that was through the gap he’d smashed in the fence.

It wasn’t covert. A human in an overall was standing open-mouthed in his path, and Niner knocked him flat on his back as he ran full-tilt for the hole in the mesh.

He had about a minute to put distance between himself and the ground station before he blew the charges. At twenty klicks an hour, that meant he’d be about—

Fierfek, just do it.

Niner was past the first line of trees and into long grass when he dropped and pressed the remote det in both hands.

Teklet was a sudden ball of light. Then the roar of air and the shock wave shook him. He crouched as debris rained down on him, hoping—really hoping–that Katarn armor was all that it was cracked up to be.

Ghez Hokan was the first to admit that it was taking a lot less to get him irritated lately. He’d waited long enough. He tapped the comlink console impatiently.

“I asked to be out through to CO CISCom ten minutes ago, di’kut.”

“I realize that, Major. He’ll be with you as soon as he’s free.”

“Enemy forces have infiltrated and I need to speak to your commanding officer. Do you understand what we have on Qiilura? Could you possibly shift your di’kutla shebs long enough to find out why this is so vital to the war?”

“Sir, we have Republic troops infiltrating more places than I care to name right now, so—”

The screen flickered and broke up in noise. Hokan switched to another channel and got the same crackling, shimmering display. It was the same for every channel he tried. His first thought was that someone had disabled his re­ceiver. They were closer than he’d thought, and a lot more daring. He put on his helmet and edged cautiously down the passage to the exterior door, his Verpine shatter gun in one hand and a hunting vibroblade in the other.

The droid sentry stepped aside to let him pass. On the roof, the comm relay was intact. Hokan took out his personal comlink and called Hurati.

All Hokan could hear was the chatter of static. It struck him that the Republic troops might well have done what he would have, faced with the same target.

“Droid, can you make contact with your fellows?”

“Affirmative sir.”

The droids had their own comlink system. They could communicate instantly on any battlefield. What they didn’t need was the main relay at Teklet in order to do it.

“Can you contact Lieutenant Hurati?”

The droid paused for a few moments. “I have him, sir.”

“Ask him if he has any news of Teklet.”

Pause. A much longer pause.

“Large explosion seen in the direction of Teklet, sir.”

It’s what I’d do if I was preparing an assault, Hokan thought. I’d render my enemies blind and deaf.

There was nothing he could do on the ground to deal with an invasion, if one was coming. There was a Republic assault ship in Qiilura space, and that didn’t bode well.

He had two options for his immediate task. He could de­fend Uthan’s project—the technical knowledge invested in her and her staff, and the nanovirus itself—or, if he was over­run, he could prevent it falling into enemy hands to be stud­ied and neutralized.

It was a big planet. If he had to run, they’d have to find him. In the meantime, he’d sit tight and wait for them to come.

“Tell Hurati I want every functioning droid back here now,” Hokan said. “We’re digging in.”

Coruscant Command to Republic Assault Ship Majestic,

Qiilura Sector

Cruiser Vengeance will RV with you at 0400. You have clearance to intercept any vessel leaving Qiilura space, prevent landing by non-Republic vessels, and engage any vessel failing to comply. Have biohazard containment standing by.

Niner struggled to his feet and stared back at the ground sta­tion.

It wasn’t there anymore. Neither were the few small huts scattered along the approach road. There was billowing smoke and fires burning, including one that looked as if it were a blowtorch. Another explosion made him shield his head, and more debris peppered his armor.

Apart from that, the area was silent. He set off through the trees again, feeling as if he’d been picked up and shaken hard by someone really angry. A small pack of gdans began chasing him, snapping on his leg armor, but they caught on fast that he was going to be impossible to eat and fell back. He opened his long-range comlink for the first time in days.

“Niner here, anyone receiving?”

He could hear his own breath rasping as he ran. He was down to a stumbling jog now and feeling the reality of his ex­haustion. He’d take a stim or two later. He had to.

“Sarge? Fi here. Target acquired, then.”

“Wow. P for plenty.”

“You sound busy.”

“On my way to the RV.”

“You’re running.”

“You bet. Sitrep?”

“Had to dump the droid and cache a lot of stuff. But the Weequay can carry a surprising amount if you ask him nicely. ETA an hour or so.”

“Call Darman, in case Jinart hasn’t caught up with him yet.”

“Copy that. ETA?”

“Depends. Looking for transport right now.”

“You sure about that?”

“You can do fast or you can do covert. Right now fast looks good to me. Out.”

Niner kept close enough to the road to hear vehicles. He needed a speeder. The mangled chassis of a personal trans­port of some kind was upended at the side of the road, testi­mony to the force of the blast.

Eventually, someone would show up to take a look at the damage. Then he’d have his chance.

After a few minutes Niner was starting to see intact buildings through the trees. He was nearing the farthest edge of the blast zone. Farther ahead he could see lights coming toward him, and his visor told him they were approaching fast. He dropped down into the cover of the grass. As they got nearer, he could pick out one landspeeder and a speeder bike.

Niner couldn’t face walking back into the blast zone to take one. He’d have to stop them here. And he’d have to stop them with minimum damage, or else he’d still be hiking back to the RV point.

He aimed his rifle on sniper setting and waited until the landspeeder was within three hundred meters. It didn’t sur­prise him that it wasn’t an emergency vehicle. He could see the driver clearly: a Trandoshan. They didn’t have a record in humanitarian public service. He was probably rushing to see if his slave traffic had been affected by the blast. The speeder was carrying a Trandoshan as well.