“We’re not going to make it,” Zak moaned.
“Yes, we are,” Tash encouraged. “Jump!”
Together they leaped for the rising ramp. Zak managed to catch hold of the edge by his fingertips. Tash grabbed hold, too, but her fingers quickly started to slip.
“Help!” she shouted.
Zak let go with one hand and grabbed hold of her tunic. “Gotcha. Climb up!”
The ramp was halfway closed.
Tash scrambled over the edge and onto the ramp itself, then hauled her brother up. They collapsed, grateful to be inside as the ramp sealed itself shut.
Outside, they heard thud! thud! thud! as hundreds of beetles battered themselves against the hull of the shuttle.
Tash and Zak struggled to their feet and stumbled toward the cockpit, where Thrawn had just dropped into the pilot’s seat.
“You tried to leave us out there!” Tash shouted at him.
“Tactical decision,” Thrawn explained coldly. “Waiting for you might have allowed the swarm to get into the ship. I would have done the same thing if you were my men.”
“Well, we’re not your men!” Zak snapped.
Thrawn spared him a brief, disdainful glare. “Be grateful. If you were, I would have ordered you to stand outside and delay the swarm until I had secured the ship.”
Thrawn began to flip switches on the shuttle’s control panel.
“What are you doing?” Sh’shak asked.
“Evacuating,” Thrawn explained.
Zak and Tash yelled together: “You can’t!”
“The Shi’ido is still out there somewhere,” Sh’shak observed. “He saved our lives.”
Thrawn hardly paused. “And I’m grateful. I assume he can take care of himself. If not, those are the fortunes of war. But we must retreat before-” He flipped a switch. “Blast!”
There was no power. Thrawn tried several backup units, and still he could get no power to the controls. “The comlink’s dead, too,” he said, checking the communications station. “I have no way of calling for help.”
Thrawn pushed past them and headed back for the engine room. The others followed. Their footsteps on the shuttle’s metal floor banged almost as loudly as the sound of drog beetles thumping against the ship.
Thrawn pried open the maintenance hatch, exposing the main generators, and jumped back in surprise. A dozen beetles lifted off the cables, fluttering in the air. They could see dozens more crawling in and out of the wire systems. Several of the bugs had been fried by crossed circuits, and sparks flew from their crisped bodies.
“They’ve shorted out everything,” Zak said. “Your whole power supply is shot.”
“Which makes this ship as dead as ours,” Tash said.
Thrawn replaced the maintenance panel. Although Thrawn was far colder and crueler, he reminded Zak of Hoole. Even in the midst of chaos, with a swarm of hungry beetles trying to reach them and a ship that had gone dead, Thrawn remained calm and collected.
The Imperial ordered them to retreat to the shuttle’s small lounge area. “We can’t move, but at least we’re protected,” he observed. “Eventually, when the Vengeance realizes we have lost contact, they’ll send reinforcements down to look for me. Then we’ll be able to leave. In the meantime, we should be safe.”
“What about the air vents?” Zak asked.
“The vents?” Thrawn repeated.
Zak’s heart slammed against his ribs. “Standard procedure. Open the air vents on landing in a breathable atmosphere.”
“The vents!” Thrawn cursed.
They looked up at a tiny grill set in the wall of the lounge, just as beetles began to pour through the opening.
CHAPTER 15
The crawling drog beetles spread out like a dark stain along the wall of the room. The only tall person in the room, Thrawn tore a cushion from a seat and shoved it against the vent. But it did no good - - beetles continued to wiggle their way under and around the soft cushion.
Behind Thrawn, Zak, Tash, and Sh’shak tried to fight off the insects. Sh’shak moved with a combination of lightning speed and perfect grace, swatting beetles right out of the air.
Tash found a clipboard on a table top and used it as a shield and weapon, slapping the insects out of her way.
Zak tried to say something, but as he opened his mouth to speak, a beetle flew right into his mouth and clung to his tongue. Gagging, he spit the bug out of his mouth. He pulled his tunic up over his head to keep the insects out of his hair and eyes, but when he did, more landed on his exposed stomach and started to crawl up his body.
“Agghhh!” he cried, slapping them away. The beetles swarmed so thickly in the small room that he could simply swing his arms and strike a half dozen, stunning them to the ground. He swung his arms and stomped his feet, hoping to kill as many as possible.