The second AAT had abandoned its attack on the clone troopers and had swung to this new threat. For a moment Tories stayed where he was, balancing on the now badly sloped top of the grounded battle tank as he deflected a couple of shots from the second tank's defensive blasters. One of the bolts went straight back down the blaster's muzzle, eliciting a burping sort of explosion from the weapon. Taking advantage of the momentary chaos inside the tank, Tories stretched out to the Force and made a giant leap across to the second tank, dealing with its primary and secondary lasers as he had with the first. Leaning over the hatch, he swung his lightsaber one more time, cutting off the vehicle's command receiver antennas.
A droideka appeared from around the landing ramp, bouncing a lit tle as it rolled across the uneven ground. Stretching out to the Force, Tories lifted one of the two secondary laser guns he'd cutoff the first AAT and sent it flying into the center of the wheel shape. There was a screech of stressed metal, and the droideka came to an abrupt halt. For another second it held position, its micro-repulsors fighting to keep it balanced.
Then, something inside it failed, and it toppled ignomin-iously over onto its side.
A stutter of multiple blaster fire sliced through the air over Tories'
head. He ducked reflexively, turning to see a group of super battle droids disintegrating behind him. The friendly fire was coming from above, he saw, and he looked up to see a group of clone troopers firing from the edge of the Spaarti roof. He waved his thanks; in response, one of them jabbed a hand toward the landing ship base.
Tories shifted his eyes that direction. Another battle tank was lumbering down the ramp, clearly intent on joining the battle. He gave a quick acknowledging wave to the rooftop snipers, then jumped off the crippled vehicle he was still standing on and began to weave his way through the chaos toward the landing ship. If he could slip up onto the ramp beneath the tank, he might be able to take out its repulsorlift coils and disable it on the spot.
"Jedi!"
Tories paused, turning as the faint shout came to him over the noise of the battle. The advancing droids were closing on the Republic forces, considerably fewer now than had started, but still coming. The clone troopers didn't seem to need his help; but there'd been a definite note of urgency in that call.
"Jedi!"
This time he was able to get the direction of the shout, and he looked over to where Roshton was standing beside his tree. The commander was looking back at him, beckoning frantically toward himself. Frowning, Tories changed direction, lightsaber blazing as he again skirted the droid attack line to the relative safety of the trees. "What is it?" he called as he came within shouting distance of Roshton.
"Didn't you hear me?" Roshton shouted back. 'The Jedi!"
"What about me?" Tories demanded, thoroughly confused now.
"Not you." Roshton jabbed a finger skyward. "The Jedi.
"The Jedi have come."
"The Jedi?" Doriana demanded.
"You got it," Lieutenant Laytron said, a mixture of surprise, hope, and relief in his voice as he peered into the eastern sky.
"A whole assault transport full of them, the message said, heading in to help. We've got orders to pull back and give them room."
"But that's impossible," Doriana objected, watching the other's face carefully. "Where could they have come from?"
But if there was any doubt at all in Laytron's mind, none of it reached his face or voice. "I don't know, and I don't care," the younger man declared.
"All units: pull back. Where?" He tilted his head upward. "Got it," he confirmed, pointing to the sky. Doriana followed the direction of his finger.
There, in the distance, he could see a dark speck moving swiftly toward them.
"Hustle on that pull-back," Laytron ordered. 'They're on their way."
He grinned tightly at Doriana. "Now we're going to see some seri ous work."
Doriana didn't answer. On the near edge of the rooftop the clone troopers had made it back to their ascent lines and were sliding back down them toward the waiting landspeeders. The approaching air vehicle was growing steadily larger, and he could see now that it was indeed a Republic assault transport.
And as it grew closer, it opened fire.
Laytron inhaled sharply. "What are they doing?" he breathed.
"They're..."
"Aren't they firing on the landing ship?" Doriana asked.
"They're firing on the plant," Laytron snapped, pulling his headset voice pickup closer to his mouth. "Republic transport, cease firing on the plant.
Repeat, cease firing on the plant!"
The only response was an intensification of the transport's fire, alternating now between the plant and the enemy STAPs swarming to engage it.
For a long moment, the Republic and Separatist forces traded fire as the assault transport continued racing forward.
Then, without warning, the vehicle suddenly dipped off its approach.
Doriana held his breath as the STAR attack was joined by blaster and laser bolts from the Separatist ground forces encircling the plant. The transport dipped even further...
And as Laytron reeled off a string of helpless curses, Doriana watched as it plunged straight through the plant's roof.
For what seemed like a small eternity, nothing happened. Then, with a horrible series of muffled explosions, whole sections of the roof blew skyward, scattering fragments all around like small erupting volcanoes. The building's walls followed, bulging and cracking and finally shattering into mudslides of rubble. Another, louder explosion echoed across the landscape, and through the roiling smoke and debris Doriana caught a glimpse of a fireball burning into the sky from the western side of the plant.
"They've stopped," Laytron said dully.
"What?" Doriana asked.
The lieutenant pointed wearily across the lawn. "The droids," he said.
"They've frozen up. That last blast must have taken out the landing ship and control matrix."
"I see," Doriana said slowly. "Do we count this as a victory?"
Laytron snorted. "The Jedi might," he said bitterly. "Who knows how they think? But the rest of us certainly won't."
"To save the world," Doriana murmured the old cynic's saying, "we had to destroy it.'"
"That's about it." Laytron shook his head tiredly. "Come on. Let's go find Commander Roshton."
Lord Binalie said very little as the three of them walked across the littered floor, their boots crunching through the remains of what had once been Spaarti Creations. Corf, walking at his father's side, was even quieter.
"I don't know what to say," Tories said softly as they came to a halt beside a mixed group of Cranscoc and human bodies. "Except that I'm very sorry."
"Of course you are," Binalie said, his voice under rigid control. "You're sorry, Commander Roshton is sorry, Master Doriana is sorry. I'm sure the entire Jedi Council would be sorry, too, if they would pause long enough in their search for someone to blame for their part in this."