So who had the Republic sent to target Uthan’s project? They were clearly bold men; first they made sport of an aerial patrol, now a droid platoon and its captain. They seemed to be choosing their targets casually. The clone army must have been terribly important to the Republic’s strategy for these troops to land like this. Where were the conventional armies? Where were the Jedi generals? When would they come?
This was a new kind of war. He could feel it.
He hated not knowing who was out there, preparing to fight him. If he hadn’t known the man was dead, he would have sworn it was Jango Fett himself
8
You know what makes you especially effective? It’s not just that you’re genetically superior and intensively trained. And it’s not just because you obey orders without question. It’s because you’re all prepared to shoot to kill, only one percent of civilians are prepared to kill, and less than a quarter of ordinary human soldiers, even under fire.
–Sergeant Kal Skirata, from his opening lecture to commandos on military psychology
The droid fired a volley of bolts at the sealed alloy doors until they glowed red. And still nothing happened.
“Stop!”
The droid appeared not to hear.
Dr. Ovolot Qail Uthan ran down the flight of steps, red and black strands of hair streaming out behind her. She was wearing a voluminous dark blue nightgown; it looked as expensive as her day wear. Hokan saluted her politely and went on watching the droid’s progress.
“Have you gone mad?” Uthan whispered fiercely. She didn’t strike Hokan as the sort of woman who would need to raise her voice to make her point. “There’s a biohazard behind that door.”
“I know,” Hokan said. “Just testing. It’s all holding up well indeed. Excellent safety bulkheads.”
Uthan took a discreet but deep breath and glanced briefly at the backs of her hands. “This facility has been built and tested to the highest containment standards, Major. You needn’t worry.”
“But I do, Doctor.” He watched the droid patiently wasting bolt after bolt on the door for a while. It paused to swap power packs. “Stop.”
It stopped. Hokan took out the lightsaber he had taken from Kast Fulier and ran its pure blue light down the seam between the two doors. Smoke curled up from the surface, but no breach appeared. It would take even a Jedi a long time to cut through this plating.
“Forgive my insistence, but could this not wait until the morning?” Uthan asked. “I’m working around the chrono as it is to weaponize this agent. I even sleep here. I would prefer to be doing that right now.”
“My apologies, Doctor, but we might not have the luxury of time.”
“What’s time got to do with it?”
“I think I need to relocate you.”
Uthan had a way of lowering her head slightly, then straightening up as if she were a krayt dragon. It was most impressive. “This is a high-risk biohazard facility. It can’t be relocated like some tent.”
“I appreciate the inconvenience involved. I still believe it would be safer if you were to pack up your materials and staff and move elsewhere.”
“Why? You have the security situation under control.”
“I have it more under control than I did, that’s true, but enemy troops have landed. I don’t know their numbers, and I don’t know what materiel and armaments they have at their disposal. All I know—all I think I know—is that this is what they’ve come for.”
“This is a fortress. You have a hundred droids at your disposal. Let them come. You can repel them.”
“All fortresses can be breached in time. I could give you a list of circumstances under which someone who’s very resourceful could get past these doors, but I want you to trust my judgment and accept what I say. Let’s move you and your work to somewhere less obvious until I have a more accurate assessment of the threat.”
Uthan looked completely impassive, staring slightly past Hokan as if she was calculating something.
“I can remove the biomaterials and my staff,” she said at last. “The equipment can be replaced if needed. I won’t be able to continue working without a safe laboratory environment, of course, but if you believe the project is at risk, then idle time is a better option than wasting three months’ work.”
What a splendidly sensible woman she was, almost Mandalorian in her discipline and dedication. Hokan ushered the droid out. “How long?” he asked.
“Six hours, perhaps.”
“Is this material that dangerous?”
She tilted her head slightly. “Only if you’re a clone. If you’re not, it might simply make you unwell.”
“It must be strange to fight with weapons you can’t see.”
“War is about technology,” she said.
Hokan smiled politely and walked back out into the courtyard to stand in the dim light from the doorway. There was the first hint of chill on the night air; winter was coming, and the landscape would be much easier to patrol when the leaves had fallen. When the snows came, it would be even easier. But he suspected that this conflict was going to be a rapid one. Intelligence reports were starting to come in that the Republic was now fighting on hundreds of different fronts. Hundreds.
Their new army would have to be millions strong to achieve that dispersal. So they were all clones. Sad travesties of the great Jango Fett.
Well, he knew one thing. The Republic wouldn’t be sending clones to deal with this particular problem. They had to know the Separatists already had the one weapon that could stop them in their tracks. And this kind of operation was beyond the capacity of the docile infantry clones Uthan had described. This was not a game of numbers.
Hokan replaced his helmet and started visualizing the research facility as a trap. So they wanted to come and take a look, did they? He’d make them welcome.
“Droids, form up. Two ranks across this entrance.”
The droids moved as one, even in the darkness, and Hokan again admired their precision. Now they were a road sign pointing the way to the target, confirming what the Republic thought it knew. But they’d be wrong. They’d be sending their best men to a decoy.
War is about technology.
“No,” Hokan said aloud. The droids snapped to attention. “War isn’t even about firepower.” He tapped his temple. “It’s about applying your brains.” Then he touched his chest. “And it’s about courage.”
He didn’t expect the droids to understand that. Clones probably didn’t understand it, either.
The straw stank of something awful, but Darman was too exhausted to care. It looked like it might be soft enough to sink into. That was good enough for him.
But first he walked around the walls of the barn and checked for an exit if he needed one in an emergency. There were several loose boards in one wall that would do fine. The rickety building looked as if he could actually punch an escape hole through any fragile plank he chose.
Reassured, he dropped everything he was carrying and tried to sit on the bales, but it turned into more of an uncontrolled slump. He didn’t even take his helmet off. He sat back and let out a breath.
The Padawan commander leaned over him. “Are you all right, Darman?” She held her hand out, palm down over him, as if she was going to touch him but didn’t.
“I’m fit to fight, Commander.” He started to sit up, and she held her hand in a slightly different gesture that clearly meant Stay where you are.
“I didn’t ask that,” she said. “I can feel you’re in some distress. Tell me.”