Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(100)

Directly behind the motionless B2 still wired into the console.

The five techs, he noted, had wisely fled the combat area. Anakin’s three attackers turned again toward him.

But now, with Anakin partly shielded behind the blank B2, only one of them could bring its blasters to bear. It swung into range.

Double vision: a blaster bolt at his torso—

Anakin crouched down, putting his eyes on a level with the droid’s wrist.

And as the bolt screamed across the gap at him he slashed his lightsaber across it, sending it directly back into the blaster’s muzzle.

The pop of the impact was surprisingly quiet. But the result was all he could have hoped for. The entire wrist blaster shattered, sending a shower of small pieces cascading onto the floor. The droid itself didn’t seem to notice, but continued striding forward, its arm extended as if its blaster was still spitting death toward his target.

Double vision: bolts coming from the other two droids at torso, at head—

Anakin deflected and dodged, again doing his best to keep the stationary B2 between him and the still-functional attackers.

Only now, it suddenly occurred to him, he had two shields available. Bouncing the latest salvo back toward the attackers’ blasters—missing with all of them—he leapt in front of the droid still trying to attack with its shattered weapon. The B2 loomed over him, its wrist blaster nearly bumping up against his chest—

And on sudden impulse Anakin stabbed the tip of his lightsaber blade directly into the droid’s right photoreceptor eye.

There were clone troopers in his 501st who claimed to have taken down B2s by shooting them in the eye. Anakin had never quite known whether those stories fell into the category of fact, boast, or wishful thinking. Now, for the first time, he knew that the stories could, at least, be true.

Because he’d just done it.

The B2 staggered back like a brawler punched in the jaw. Anakin twisted his wrists, hoping to slice further through the head and destroy more of the droid’s processor; once again, as the blade hit the edges of the eye socket the lightsaber shut down. Anakin took a long step backward as the droid’s knees buckled and it pitched forward to crash onto the floor.

Double vision: bolts coming at torso, at head, at torso—

Anakin swung around, igniting his lightsaber again as the other B2s came around the obstacles and back into range. One down; two to go. He moved to his right, getting into position to once again leap into the shadow of the blank B2, where he could hopefully take the remaining droids one at a time.

He was three steps away from making his move when a lightning bolt ripped down from Padmé’s level directly into one of the droids.

The effect was startling and vaguely comedic. Instead of merely falling over, the B2’s arms and legs snapped straight out to both sides, turning the droid into a bizarre caricature of a child making a sand angel. It held that pose for a second before, overbalanced, it toppled to the floor.

It was still falling when a second lightning bolt blasted through the air, turning the last B2 into its own sand angel and dropping it to the floor.

For a moment Anakin just stared at the droids, the acrid smell of burnt plastoid curling his nostrils. Then he looked up.

Padmé was standing at the edge of the second-level platform, her S-5 held loosely in two-handed sharpshooter stance, her mouth hanging slightly open in astonishment at the sight laid out below her. Two steps behind her and to the side stood Thrawn, holding a long, shoulder-slung rifle in the crook of his arm. As Anakin watched, the Chiss stepped forward, slinging the rifle behind his back, and casually plucked the S-5 from Padmé’s hands. He hooked the grapple around a nearby bracing strut, stepped off the platform, and dropped smoothly to the floor below. Resetting the ascension mode, he sent the blaster back up.

“Well done,” he said, walking toward Anakin, his glowing red eyes looking back and forth. “Interesting variant on the Separatists’ usual combat machines.”

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” Anakin said, eyeing the unfamiliar weapon as the other stopped in front of him. “Thanks for the assist. Next time, feel free to join the fight sooner.”

“If I had, you wouldn’t have learned how to defeat them,” Thrawn pointed out. “Besides, this particular weapon carries only three shots.”

Anakin felt his lip twitch. So the Chiss could have taken out all three B2s. Instead, he’d held back while Anakin ran around like crazy trying not to get his head blown off.

Still, he had to admit that Thrawn had a point. If this whole factory was geared to making more of these invulnerable droids, the Republic needed to know how to fight them. “Well, thanks anyway.” He nodded at the droid he’d taken down. “You have any idea how they’re doing this?”

“I have a thought,” Thrawn said. “Let us examine the bins.”

Padmé caught up with them on the way. “I thought you were leaving,” she said to Thrawn, her eyes hostile, her voice not sure whether to be angry, relieved, or some combination of the two.

“I never said I was leaving,” Thrawn told her calmly. “I merely said that I’d been sent for the shield generator, and that my first duty was to my people. Once that duty was fulfilled, I was free to return to General Skywalker’s aid.”

“Hey!” a voice called from the side.

Reflexively, Anakin spun around, igniting his lightsaber, peripherally aware that Thrawn had swung his own weapon back up to firing position.