Jedi Trial (Clone Wars Series, 6) by David Sherman

Author:David Sherman [Sherman, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, Star Wars
ISBN: 9780345461148
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2004-10-26T07:00:00+00:00

Daylight was fading fast now. With the exception of just a few weapons—no more than a battery—Slayke’s heavy artillery pieces had all been knocked out. His aircraft had all long ago been destroyed; he didn’t even have a shuttle craft to get back up to what was left of his fleet in orbit, not that anybody was thinking of going anywhere. The enemy’s troops had paused after taking over the forward positions in Slayke’s defensive line, ostensibly to consolidate their position and shorten their lines for the final attack and to bring up reinforcements for the final, overwhelming push. It could be only minutes away now. That was the only break Slayke had been given since the assault began. It would give him the time he needed to prepare for a last stand.

Slayke sat with his eyes glued to the optics that gave him a 360-degree surveillance of the terrain in front of Judlie.

“Sir, here are our dispositions.”

A staff officer handed him a display, and he glanced at it quickly. “Tell all commanders to hold their positions at all costs. But tell them I give the ranking soldier in each unit permission to disperse before being overrun. If there’s any chance for our troops to scatter and escape into the desert, they can try it. Make that clear.” The officer saluted and turned to the communications console.

Slayke thought they’d only die out in the desert, but even so, he consoled himself, they might live a while longer.

A long, rolling artillery barrage began to envelop their positions, shaking the ground around them.

“When that stops, they’ll be coming,” Slayke said to his command staff. “When they overrun us, anyone who wants to try can attempt a breakout. No way am I going to stay here and fry.”

The optics were no use now; the ground between the two armies was being churned and battered into dust, making it impossible to see anything. He turned to his staff. Their cheeks and eyes were hollow and their faces drained of blood, but each still attended to duty, some talking to the infantry and artillery units, others checking weapons, equipment, water, and rations. Dust from near hits hung suspended in the close, humid air around them; an enormous blast shook the bunker and some officer shouted, “Missed again!” and several of them laughed. Someone coughed. The officers muttered among themselves, going through the motions of leading an army that virtually no longer existed.

An enormous ripping, tearing roar engulfed them, distant and muted at first, but rising quickly to a deafening crescendo so profound it made their guts vibrate. It was clearly coming from somewhere behind them. Slayke pounded a fist into his forehead. Nobody had any doubt what it meant: it was their death knell.

“He’s been reinforced!” Slayke said. “Grab your weapons and equipment.”

“Lay on!” an officer shouted as the staff scrambled for the bunker exit. “At least we’ll die fighting!”

Slayke raised a blaster rifle over his head. “Follow me!” he ordered.

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