Sev and Boss began working their way to the snowspeeder on their bellies, pausing to fire grenades high over the ice boulders and then scrambling a few more meters while the droids paused and the Muuns took brief cover. Shots hissed around the commandos as blaster bolts shaved paint off their plates and hit the snow, vaporizing it. One round deflected off Vau’s helmet with an audible sizzle. He felt the impact like being slapped around the head.
All he felt at that moment was … foolish: not afraid, not in fear for his life, just stupid, stupid for getting it wrong. It was worse than physical terror. He’d overplayed his hand. He’d put Delta in this spot. He had to get them out.
“You’re conspicuous in that black armor, Sarge,” Scorch said kindly. “It’s worse than having Omega alongside. What say you back out of here and leave me to hold them?”
If anyone was going to do any holding, it was Vau. “Humor an old man.” He fumbled in his belt for an EMP grenade. “I stop the droids, you pick off the wets.” Wets. Organics. He was talking like Omega now. “Then we all run for it. Deal?”
Scorch twisted the grenade launcher to one side and switched his Deece to automatic, forcing the Muun guards to scatter. Two dropped behind a frozen outcrop. He fired again, shattering the ice, which turned out to be a brittle crystalline rock that sent shards flying like arrows. There was a shriek of agony that turned into a panting scream. It echoed off the walls of the canyon.
He grunted, apparently satisfied. “Sounds like nine wets left in play.”
“Eight, if one’s taking care of him,” Vau said.
“Muuns aren’t that nice.”
“Fixer, you okay?” Vau waited for a reply. The world had suddenly gone silent except for that screaming Muun. The droids seemed to be regrouping behind a ten-meter chunk of dark gray ice. “Fixer?”
“Fine, Sarge.”
“Okay, here goes.”
Vau fired. This EMP grenade had enough explosive power to make a mess of a small room, but its pulse was what really did the damage over a much larger area. It fried droid circuits. The small explosion echoed and scattered chunks of ice, and then there was a long silence punctuated only by the distant pounding of cannon as the Galactic Marines smashed their way into Jygat.
Vau refocused on the EM image in his HUD. He crawled to the bundle, dragging it into cover and strapping it back on his chest. It was way too much to carry, and he couldn’t move properly. He knelt on all fours like a heavily pregnant woman trying to get up. “I don’t see movement.”
“It’s okay, Sarge, they’re zapped.”
“Okay, just the wets to finish off, then.” He switched back to infrared. The Muun guards would show up like beacons. “I’ll warm them up while you make a move.”
Vau pulled out the flamethrower, eased himself into a kneeling position, and opened the valve. Mird cocked its head, eyes fixed on the weapon.
“Where’d you get that, Sarge?” Scorch asked.
“Borrowed it from a flame trooper.”
“Does he know?”
“He won’t mind.”
“That thing could melt droids.”
“I was saving the fuel for a tight spot.” There was still no movement; Vau estimated that the patrol was still in the canyon, maybe looking for a way around behind them. The Muun who’d been injured was now silent-unconscious, or dead. “Like this. I should have a full minute’s fuel, so once I start-run. You too, Mird.” He gestured Mird toward the snowspeeder and pointed to the flamethrower. “Go, Mird. Follow Boss.”
It was just a case of taking a blind run at it. I’m not as fast as I used to be. And I’m carrying too much. But a wall of flame was a blunt and terrifying instrument against almost any life-form. Vau struggled to his feet and ignited the flame.
The roaring jet spat ahead of him as he drew level with the small pass where the Muun patrol was holed up; then the sheet of flame blinded him to what lay beyond it. He only heard the screams and saw the flash on icons across his HUD as Delta Squad sprinted for the idling snowspeeder. Vau backed away, counting down the seconds left of his fuel sup-ply, ready to switch to his blaster when it ran out.
Nobody was expecting a flamethrower on an ice patrol. Surprise was half the battle.
Vau turned and ran, gasping for breath. Not a bad turn of speed for his age, not bad at all on ice and so heavily laden, and there was Mird ahead of him, having listened for once, and the speeder was coming about…
And the ice opened up beneath him.
It took him a moment to realize he was falling down a sloping tunnel and not just sinking into unexpected soft snow. Fixer called out, but even though the sound filled Vau’s helmet he didn’t catch what was said. The two bags of booty took him down.