"What are you talking about?" Binalie asked. "We're right on time."
"You're two minutes late," Roshton corrected tartly. "If Lieutenant Laytron is on schedule, the diversion will be starting in fourteen minutes. We want to be already moving people out the other end of the tunnel by then."
"Then we'd better get started," Tories said. "Your people ready to move?"
In answer, Roshton lifted a hand. The clone troopers who'd been pointing their rifles at Tories lifted the weapons into carry position across their chests and passed single-file through the newly made opening. Reforming into ranks of three, they set off down the tunnel at a quick jog. They were followed by another squad of six, and another, and another. "What about the techs?" Tories asked as the fifth batch of troopers jogged past him.
"When will they be coming through?"
"When we've got enough firepower at the other end to protect them,"
Roshton grunted, stepping through himself and giving Binalie a nudge. "Come on, both of you. Our turn to move." The clone troopers who'd gone on ahead of them were waiting at the far end of the tunnel when Tories, Binalie, and Roshton arrived. 'Two minutes to go," the commander said, consulting his chrono. "What's cover like up there?"
Binalie opened his mouth to answer - "Open space for three meters to the north, twenty meters to the south," one of the clone troopers they'd left behind on guard duty spoke up. 'Tree cover begins five meters to the east and remains intermittent."
"Not perfect, but it'll do," Roshton decided. "Line up on the stairway.
Lord Binalie, is there any trick to operating the exit door?"
"The controls are right there," Binalie said, pointing to the panel, his tone suddenly sounding strange. "But-"
"But what?" Roshton demanded, glaring at him.
Binalie threw a quick, ambiguous glance at Tories. "Nothing," he muttered. "It'll keep."
"Fine." Roshton looked up the stairway as his troopers headed up. "Get in position," he called softly. "We break cover at the sound of the first shot."
"Two minutes to go," Lieutenant Laytron said, consulting his chrono. "All squads, report by number."
He fell silent, listening intently to the reports coming in over his headset. Doriana found himself gazing off to the north, across the open grassland and the picket line of combat droids standing guard there. The force was largely a token one, of course, since there were no doors or windows on the southern side of the plant. The main droid army, plus all their remaining AAT battle tanks, was concentrated around the more vulnerable eastern, western, and northern approaches.
But even a single person or machine on that forbidden stretch of lawn was anathema to the Cranscoc twillers who were the actual heart of the Spaarti operation. They were probably still twitching their indignation, in fact, over all those droids standing around out there. But of course, the Separatist commanders didn't care about that.
On the other hand, since the plant's tooling was still set for the cloning cylinders the Republic forces had been sent to Cartao to manufacture, Roshton probably didn't much care if the twillers were upset, either. Two huge political systems, locked in a massive battle of wills and weapons and death, completely oblivious as to how their actions affected those around them. But those actions frequently involved a lot of unexpected collateral damage. That was a lesson someone was going to learn today.
"One minute," Laytron said. "Stand ready."
Doriana took a deep breath, willing calmness into himself. He had carried out his part of the plan, he knew, maneuvering both sides to precisely the right place and the right time. The rest was now out of his hands, and he could feel the churning sense of frustration that always came upon him at times like this.
"And... go."
With the multi-level roar of a dozen different engine models, a dozen commandeered civilian landspeeders leaped into view from concealment among the hills dotting the landscape, each loaded with anywhere from four to eight clone troopers. Quickly, they maneuvered around their hills to form an attack line on the southern edge of the grassland. Then, as the enemy pickets and the high-flying STAPs seemed to take notice, the engine pitches changed, and the vehicles set off at full speed toward the plant.
"Stand by, cover fire," Laytron ordered. The STAPs were swooping in to the attack, their twin blasters spitting fire at the landspeeders. Ahead of the advancing landspeeders, the picket forces were drawing inward to form a solid counterline between the clone troopers and the plant. Their blasters opened up, too, searching for the range...
"Fire," Laytron said.
The tops of a dozen nearby hills suddenly blurred as camouflage covers were thrown off and heavy weapons scavenged from damaged gunships and AATs were swung around to bear on the enemy. Laser cannon bolts sizzled across the incoming STAPs, destroying half a dozen in the first salvo and sending the rest twisting away into evasive maneuvers. A pair of missiles streaked from one of the hills to hit the droid counterline dead center. When the smoke, dust, and purple afterimage of the explosion cleared from Doriana's sight, there was nothing left of the picket line but a crater and a hundred smoking pieces of combat droid.
"Here they come," Roshton murmured, pointing to the east. Doriana shifted his eyes that direction. Three AAT battle tanks had appeared around the side of the building, laying down fire of their own as they lumbered toward the incoming landspeeders.
"They're too late," Doriana said, estimating distances and speeds.
"Absolutely," Laytron agreed as the hilltop covering fire shifted aim and began pummeling the AATs. "The fatal flaw of droid armies, Master Doriana: the soldiers actually on the scene can't think or anticipate."
Doriana smiled. "Which is why the Republic is going to win."
The battle tanks were still firing uselessly as the landspeeders reached the plant. Even before the vehicles came to a complete stop the clone troopers were leaping out, slinging their heavy rifles over their shoulders as they formed up beside the wall. The first two dozen to reach position lifted liquid-cable guns and fired upward. The grapplers caught the top edge of the rooftop, and a moment later, the soldiers were being reeled swiftly upward as their comrades held guard position beneath them. The remaining STAPs swung to this new threat, managing to kill two of the rising clone troopers before fire from the troopers below eliminated that threat.
The first wave reached the roof and scrambled up onto it, unslinging their rifles and setting up a defensive perimeter. The second wave was already halfway up the side of the building by the time they were in position, with the final wave just leaving the ground.
"And that's that," Laytron said with grim satisfaction as the clone troopers regrouped and started across the rooftop, weapons at the ready. "The Separatists can't fire on them without risking damage to the plant, but they'll be able to fire on the landing ship as soon as they're in range. Is that the sort of diversion you were thinking about, Master Doriana?"