Fett tapped a pouch on his belt. “Good opportunity to hand over this data. Especially now that we’ve got our next two mission briefings on it. Something the New Republic can act on.”
“There must be something I’m missing. The folk here won’t exactly be in a teachable moment.”
“You got a better idea for making contact with the New Republic with the Vong crawling all over us?”
“No, Mand’alor.”
“So let’s go and look like a credible commando raid.” Fett gestured to take up positions. “Try not to kill everyone until we know if there’s an officer we can make contact with, and leave a tighter or two intact. Got that, everyone? Somebody has to escape this to pass on the data.”
Beviin kept one channel on his comlink on intercepted New Republic voice traffic. O for obvious, all right: they were expecting a Yuuzhan Vong landing of the kind that had breached the Outer Rim, massive aerial bombardments of magma and burning rock followed by troops spewed from what could only be described as gigantic worms. The psychological factor-vessels and weapons that looked like freakishly deformed organs-was hitting almost as hard as the sheer destructive power of the Vongese’s fleet.
He could hear the ops staff tasking early warning craft and fighters over five cities in the northern hemisphere, collating reports of enemy warships spotted-and bases on worlds toward the edge of the galaxy that had simply stopped responding to signals. The Yuuzhan Vong advance could be plotted by the wake of silent comm stations it left behind.
The personnel here certainly wouldn’t be expecting to find Mandalorians infiltrating their port and taking out the control hub, though.
Fett synchronized his chrono readout with the six of them and knelt back on his heels, occasionally tapping a control on his forearm plate. Dinua kept observation on the control tower. As she moved her head slowly, scanning, Beviin caught the green-lit tracking shot in the line of icons just to one side of his field of vision.
Briika had done a fine job of training the kid. The girl was in that awkward gap between becoming an adult at thirteen and a wife at sixteen, but she was certainly a completely competent soldier. Mando society had always been that way; but Beviin sometimes looked at aruetii kids of the same age and felt that thirteen was far too young to take on that kind of responsibility.
And if he’d told her so, he was sure she’d have slugged him without a second thought. She was as tough as her mother. He wondered what fate had befallen her father and decided to wait for her to tell him in her own time.
At least he’d been able to leave a message for Medrit. Don’t worry. It’s not the way it looks. Sit tight.
“Now remember,” said Fett. “I want to see good acting. Hit hard enough to look convincing, but don’t wipe everyone out because we need at least one survivor.” He paused and Beviin heard him swallow. “Thirty seconds.”
They counted down on the synchronized timer projected on their HUDs. At fifteen seconds Cham knelt on one knee and balanced the missile launcher on his right shoulder, pressing his cheek plate against the tube, left hand steadying the brace.
He had a habit of bobbing his head slightly as he counted but it never affected his aim. His head finally stopped bobbing for three seconds and a flare of yellow fire shot backward with a fweeesh of gas. Moments later the top of the spaceport tower exploded in a ball of white flame that climbed into the night sky, bringing instant and temporary daylight to the landing strip.
Fett didn’t need to say a word. As debris ruined down and vehicles and personnel scattered, the Mandalorians began the hundred-meter sprint to the main building, each making their move a few seconds apart and taking different paths, while Cham kept the anti-aircraft battery distracted for a few moments with a wildly launched missile that punched through a water tower, sending a torrent smashing onto the canopies of parked speeders.
It was harder than it looked to feign an attack when your whole life had been about ruthlessly efficient killing. It was especially hard when the target really believed you wanted them dead and fought back with the strength of desperation. Beviin blew open a pair of security doors into the brightly lit main complex and followed Fett through with Briika and Dinua at his heels. Suvar and Tiroc covered the exit and a corridor leading off it to protect their escape route. They ran down the main passage to a pair of doors marked with POWER HAZARD signs.
Normally, it would have been the obvious place to enter and do as much damage as possible-the generator room. This time it wasn’t. Fett ran on and they reached an intersection in the corridor where they were met by blaster fire.