[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(106)

He was out of breath. He hoped nobody noticed. It might have looked as if he were panicking.

“Sir…” Nevil seemed to be agitated by the battle link.

He looked as if he was trying to shake it off, like someone fighting to stay awake. If he’d only given in to it, he would have felt much better, like the others Caedus could hear-could feel-totally caught up in combat. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if you’d share your plans for breaching Fondor’s shield, because with the power we’ve got available, we’re going to be hammering away for hours to weaken it. Can I suggest we divert Dewback to help us out?”

“It won’t be necessary, “Caedus said. He had to get this energy out of him. It was a weight crushing his chest. “Alternative power source, you might say. I’m going to get them to drop the shield. Stand by concussion missiles.”

“I see.” Nevil’s tone said that he wanted to take this on faith, but he was struggling. “Is this like…”

“Captain, I know you’re troubled by what you saw happen with Tebut, and… I regret my behavior, but I’m learning to use combat powers way beyond those of the Jedi, and I wasn’t fully in control of them then. I am now. Keep monitoring the shield, and as soon as you see it drop, set ten concussion missiles to airburst over Oridin and two over the shield generator plant.” Caedus made an effort to sound detached and normal. It was hard to keep his voice steady. “Don’t fear me.”

“Very well, sir.”

Nevil said it in as matter-of-fact a tone as if his commander had asked for a cup of caf at an inconvenient moment. Caedus sat down in one of the command seats and watched the disk of Fondor gradually filling the viewscreen until it had no sharply contrasted frame of black space left.

His lungs demanded air. The cumulative effect of his commanders’ heart-pounding aggression needed out now. He could no longer pick out the individual crew and their stations around him in the Anakin Solo, just a complex tapestry of emotions, and that was the state of near blindness that he needed to push his way into the minds of strangers many kilometers away on the planet beneath.

The dam burst in him, but it found a river channel. Caedus saw what the Fondorians operating the shield facility might see; he had no idea what the actual location looked like, but he didn’t need to waste his strength projecting his consciousness to actually observe. Any imagined scene would do to focus him as the torrent of anger and raw nerves of a hundred or more commanders poured back through him. He pictured the shield generator plant, the control room, imagining it much as any other power plant in the industrialized galaxy: a wall covered in readouts and status lights, and rows of consoles around him where other workers kept an eye on the integrity of the shield and ensured that a constant power level fed it. There would be a message system, possibly an illuminated board updating staff on the security alert level, too. The exact details didn’t matter, he knew, as long as he could imagine enough about what was happening in their minds to be able to latch on to some breeze of a thought in the Force, and slip into their world.

It was like listening for a particular noise or vibration when tuning a speeder drive. He always knew which sounds were normal, and which-however faint, however close to the threshold of his hearing-shouldn’t have been there and indicated a problem. Once he heard that sound, it was the only one he could hear, blanking out all others.

Caedus dropped into that white noise of the feelings and thoughts of billions on Fondor, and heard the one repeating note out of kilter with the rest. He focused. In seconds, it filled his head to the exclusion of all else.

He was aware of solid, real beings moving around him on the ship, but he was now more aware of the shield generator facility five kilometers east of Oridin and the minds of the control room team.

There were more of them than usual, he could feel that. There was a sense of having strangers around, as if they’d called in extra staff and were running emergency operations, which fitted a facility that probably ran on standby vvith droids and a caretaker crew most of the time.

The fleet needs to shelter.

Caedus concentrated on projecting an impression that the GA Fleet and its allies had been driven off, and now ships needed to return to base under the protection of the shield. There was urgency in it, because many of the vessels were damaged and needed to land before atmosphere vented or hulls gave way.

Open up. Let us in.

He flooded the operators’ minds with an urge to get the ships to safety as soon as possible, all kinds of worries and concerns about family members who might be on board, a burning sense of saving people, of pulling out all the stops…