[Republic Commando] - 03(28)

Ordo joined in calling the stall’s name. He almost expected to see a patrol closing in on them, but his helmet sensors showed nothing.

“Strills can stand cold,” Skirata said, pausing to get his breath. “And they’ve got better hearing than humans. It was worth a try.” He tapped his forearm controls, adjusting his helmet’s voice projector to maximum. “Mird!”

How would they even hear the animal if it responded to their calls? Ordo was about to go back and start using the ship’s sensor systems to probe deeper into the ice, but he heard Skirata say “Osi’kyr!” in surprise and when he turned, the snow was shaking. The thin crust broke. A gold-furred head pushed through like a hideously ugly seedling, a thick layer of white frost on its muzzle.

“Mird, I’ll never curse you again,” Skirata said, and knelt down to scoop away the chunks of ice. The animal whined pitifully. “Is he down there, Mird? Is Vau down there?” He hesitated and then rubbed the folds of loose skin on its muzzle. “Map the tunnel for me, Ord’ika.”

The holochart hung in the air, a 3-D model of the ice beneath them. The tunnel that Mird had struggled out of ran down at a thirty-degree angle and curved close to the margin of the lake before snaking away again and disappearing off the chart in the direction of Jygat.

“It’s about sixty meters down to the bend, and the diameter there is only a meter,” Ordo said. “If he fell, chances are he came to rest at the bend.”

“Long way down.” Skirata had his arms around Mird, and Ordo wasn’t sure if he was hugging the animal or trying to shelter it. It was a marked change of attitude, given that he’d thrown his knife at it more than once in the past. “Mird, find Vau. Good Mird. Here.” He took out a length of fibercord from his belt and knotted it around Mird’s neck. “Go find him. You couldn’t drag him out, could you? Is he stuck? Find him.”

Mird struggled back down the tunnel, making rasping noises with its claws like a skater, and then there was silence again.

“Mird’s clever, but a strill can’t tie knots,” said Ordo. “So if Vau’s dead or unconscious, what are you doing?”

“Measuring,” said Skirata. He had a tight grip on the line, watching it intently. Eventually it went taut. “Fierfek, there’s never a Jedi around when you need one, is there? Bard’ika could have done his Force stuff and located Vau right away.” He tugged on the line. “Back, Mird. Come back.” The line went slack again. “Given how much line I’m holding, minus the loop, Vau’s at fifty-eight meters.”

“If Mird reached him.”

“It’d stay with Vau. Trust me, it stopped where Vau is when the line went taut. Now all we have to do is get to him.”

The solution was obvious to Ordo. “We breach the tunnel at the thinnest point of the ice, which is where it runs next to the lake, and that’s less than eight meters thick.”

“And flood the tunnel…”

“No.”

“Or flush him into the lake and lose him. Either way, he’s dead.”

“Either way,” Ordo said, utterly relieved that he recalled every line of the Deep Water manual, “I line the ship up, starboard-side-to, and work through the ice with the boarding tube from the air lock. Dry entry.”

Skirata looked up at him for a moment. Ordo didn’t need to see his face to know what he was thinking.

“You still manage to amaze me, son. You really do.”

“Just hope we don’t hit rock.”

Mird crawled out of the runnel and flopped at Skirata’s feet, panting. It was a struggle to get the strill into Aay’han, probably because it thought they were leaving Vau behind, but it was weak and frozen, and that meant Skirata and Ordo could subdue it between them.

Ordo set the ship down on the frozen surface of the lake. If the ice cracked and they fell through, that was fine, because it would save him the trouble of smashing through. But it didn’t.

Shields. What did it say about shields when diving? Re-configure. He tapped in the commands and waited. Amber indicators changed one by one to green. Okay, now avoid any serious impacts …

Ordo lifted Aay’han clear of the surface, climbed steeply, and fired a laser round at the lake at what he hoped was a safe distance from the ice wall. Steam plumed up beneath him like a geyser. A chunk of ice lifted vertically and bobbed for a second before sliding back again.

The lake would freeze over fast. “Brace for dive,” he said, and took her in a slow nosedive.

“Osik.”

“Oh yes…”

Do other people live their lives like this? Do they take these kinds of risks?