Timothy Zahn - Hero of Cartao 2. Hero's Rise

Even the invasion of his home and the destruction of his office door had apparently not put Binalie off the idea of offering the Neimoidians a deal to get them out of his plant. But threats were something else entirely. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

"It means this." Before Binalie could do more than inhale sharply, Ashel wrapped his long fingers around Corf's arm and hauled him out of his chair.

"The grub will go with us," the Neimoidian continued, pulling Corf close in front of him. "When you decide to cooperate, you may join us in the plant."

"Let him go," Binalie ground out. He was on his feet now, ignoring the droid blasters suddenly pointed at him. "I've told you already..."

"And do not consider too long," Ashel warned, backing to the door with Corf firmly in tow. The boy's eyes, Tories saw, had gone wide with fear. "We are patient beings, but we will not be patient forever."

Corf threw Tories a half frantic, half pleading look. But the Jedi had already measured the distances with his eyes, and even with the advantage of surprise he knew he couldn't take two combat droids before at least one of them got off a shot. And that didn't even take into account what other forces the Neimoidians might have waiting outside.

Which simply meant he would have to try something else. "Just a moment," he said primly, standing up. "The boy has two exams to complete today. I will not permit my schedule to be disrupted." The Neimoidians paused in the doorway, gazing at him with those expressionless alien faces. Tories stretched out toward their minds, wondering just how susceptible this species was to Jedi suggestion. He'd seldom used this trick, and never before with a Neimoidian. If they didn't buy into his manipulation, he might have to tackle those combat droids after all.

"The boy will come with us," Ashel declared at last. "If you choose, you may come with him."

"Thank you," Tories said, bowing in proper tutor fashion. Throwing a warning glance at Binalie, he stepped over to join the Neimoidians.

"But bring many lessons," Ashel added as they stepped back into the corridor.

There were, Tories noted, two more of the big droids waiting for them out there. Just as well he hadn't gone on the attack. "Lord Binalie is stubborn, even for a human. You may be with us for some time."

"Don't worry," Tories said, squeezing Corf's shoulder reassuringly. "I have everything I'll need."

The two Neimoidians and their assault droid escort were still in the mansion when Doriana finally reached Roshton. The commander was bending over the sculpted bush in front of him, his face carefully turned away from the visitor, puttering away industriously with a set of pruning scissors.

"What are you doing here?" Doriana hissed at him.

"Tendin' the plants, my lord," Roshton said in a quavering old voice, snipping off a couple more leaves.

"Stop it, Roshton," Doriana ground out. "It's me."

Roshton angled an eye cautiously up at him. "Ah-Master Doriana," he said, abandoning both the accent and the phony garden work. "You're just in time for the show."

"What show?" Doriana asked. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see," Roshton said, shifting his eyes to the mansion and the ring of droids. "Ever seen a droideka go bounce?"

"Uh... no."

"Then you've got a treat in store." Roshton pulled the front of his tunic slightly back to reveal a comlink hidden behind the flap. "Number seven, stand by... now."

And from the direction of the house came the thundercrack of an explosion. Doriana twisted around in time to see one of the droidekas, still in wheel form, soaring over the heads of its startled companions. Behind it, a blackened hole in the ground trailed a strand of smoke. "Number ten: now,"

Roshton said.

There was a second explosion, this one squarely at the feet of one of the assault droids. The big machine lost its balance and toppled backward to land with a sickening thud. "Where are they firing from?" Doriana demanded, looking around in bewilderment. There were no clone troopers in sight, and precious little cover anywhere nearby for them to be hiding in. "Roshton?"

"Later," Roshton said. "Five and eight: go."

Two more explosions ripped into the defensive line, each sending a pair of battle droids flying across the neatly trimmed lawn. "And here come the soft ones," Roshton added as the brightly colored Neimoidian robes appeared in the doorway. "This should be fun."

"Hold it," Doriana said, squinting across the distance. Nearly hidden in the folds of the robes... "Hold your fire, Roshton," he repeated urgently.

"They've got Binalie's son with them."

Roshton muttered something under his breath. "Rotten cowards," he said contemptuously. "They can't just..."

He broke off, a tight smile suddenly twisting his lips. "Well, well.

Cowards and fools both."

"What?" Doriana asked, frowning.

"They've got Corf Binalie, all right." Roshton gestured. "They've also got Jafer Tories."

He lifted his eyebrows at Doriana. "Like I said. This should be fun."

Two more explosions, the third and fourth by Tories' count, shook the house as Ashel and Gehad hurried them down the entry hallway to the mansion's main door.

"I do not understand," Gehad said nervously as they peered outside.

"Where are they shooting from?" "What does it matter?" Ashel bit out, gesturing to the droids. "Droids! Form a cordon to the transport!" Obediently, the droids abandoned their encirclement positions, scurrying or rolling or lumbering, as their capabilities allowed, toward the vehicle squatting a dozen meters away. They were lining up into two rows, their weapons pointing outward, when another explosion caught the transport's right front corner, bouncing the vehicle a meter into the air and leaving a section of armor plating black and twisted.

"This is impossible!" Gehad shouted. "How do they do this?"

"Ask questions later!" Ashel growled, pointing toward the Spaarti plant.

"Look! Here is our air support."

And impressive air support it was, too, Tories had to admit. A hundred STAPs had appeared in the sky, sweeping in from both east and west as they converged on the Binalie estate.

But the STAPs were still out of range, the droids in their cordon had their weapons and sensors aimed outward as they searched for their unseen attackers, and the Neimoidians were far too preoccupied with their own safety to be watching their prisoners. Time to go to work.

"Now," Ashel said, ungluing himself from the partial protection of the doorway and sprinting between the rows of droids toward the transport.

Grabbing Corf s arm, Gehad started to follow, tugging the boy along behind him. They didn't get far. Reaching forward, Tories caught the boy's other arm and planted his feet solidly into the ground just outside the mansion's doorway. For a moment, Corf was stretched between them like a pull-war cable, and then Gehad stopped and spun around. "What do you-?" he snarled. He never finished his question. In that same brief second, the two combat droids that had been marching along a meter behind them, caught offguard by Tories' sudden halt, arrived at either side of the Jedi. And in a single smooth motion, Tories reached beneath his robe, pulled out his lightsaber, and ignited it.

Gehad gave a little deep-throated scream, letting go of Corf's arm as if he'd been burned and scuttling away from him. Tories gave the boy a quick shove back through the doorway as he slashed the lightsaber across the upper chest of the droid to his left. The brilliant green blade sliced through the thick acertron armor like it was wrapping plastoid, and the top third of the droid slid off and fell with a crash onto the ground. The rest of the machine, caught in a trick of balance, remained standing stolidly upright like a beheaded corpse patiently awaiting further orders. Tories didn't wait to see whether or not it would fall. The assault droid to his right was already reacting to this unexpected threat, twisting at its hips to try to bring its blasters to bear. Tories swiveled to his right to meet it, swinging his lightsaber around and down across the raised forearms above the mounted blasters and dropping them onto the ground. His second cut took off the droid's legs; even before the pieces clattered to the ground, he leaped backward through the doorway into the mansion. "Go!" he ordered the Neimoidians, lifting his lightsaber into guard position. As if in emphasis, another nearby explosion blew clouds of dirt into the air. The two aliens didn't need further encouragement. Turning, they sprinted down the line of droids and scampered into the transport. The surviving droids followed, closing up the cordon neatly behind them. A minute later the transport, joined now by three more of the vehicles, was heading east at high speed. "Wow," Corf breathed.