Trapped (7 page)

Divinian!
he suddenly remembered. As in
Astri
Divinian. It wasn't like him to forget those kinds of details. That was the sort of mistake that could get you killed. The sort of mistake that would lead you straight into a trap.

Because the odds against that man being his brother? Astronomical. There was a much more likely possibility.

X-7 gritted his teeth, furious that he'd allowed himself to be misled. This Divinian obviously had some kind of ax to grind. Perhaps he was still angry to have lost out on his payment when the Kamino mission went sour. Whatever the reason, he'd decided to come after X-7. To play with his mind, his emotions.

Bad mistake.

Recon was over, X-7 decided. Time for action.

He hurled himself through the window. Lune Divinian flung his hands over his face, shielding himself from the hail of transparisteel. And all traces of mercy wiped away, X-7 lunged for his throat.

T
he thunder of stormtrooper boots was growing louder, closer. Han dragged Leia around the corner, but the corridor dead-ended a few meters away. No cover, no escape. They pressed themselves against the wall, held their breath, and hoped.

A phalanx of stormtroopers stomped down the hall-way, feet rising and falling in unison. As they swept past,
Han whispered into the comlink, cupping his hands around
it to block the noise. “A little more warning next time?”

“It's all clear now,” Luke's voice assured him. “You have a straight shot to the records room. Two guards at the door, and you're in. Easy.”

“Sure, easy for
you,
” Han muttered. “You're not the one in here making friends with the boys in white.”

“What's that?”

“Nothing, kid. In and out. We'll get those blueprints to you faster than a neek.” Han glowered at the comlink. Bad enough he was infiltrating an Imperial administrative center with only the kid's help to guide him through. Even worse that Leia had insisted on coming, too. Which meant that if there was trouble—make that
when
there was trouble—he couldn't just save his own neck. He'd have to save hers, too. It was his responsibility.

Except none of this is my responsibility,
he thought irritably.
So what am I doing here?

Div had agreed to go along with Ferus's plan, but he'd demanded something in return: a Rebel attack on Belazura's Imperial garrison. The garrison was the center of Imperial power on the planet, but it was also a valuable strategic asset for the Empire. At the heart of the Inner Rim, it gave them a perfect base to control the surrounding planetary systems. Dark rumors swirled about the weaponry housed there. Belazura was packed with Imperial factories and arms manufactures, and several of the latest prototypes were said to be stored in the garrison. It was one of the reasons the citizens of Belazura were thoroughly cowed by their Imperial rulers. And one of the reasons it had long sat toward the top of the Rebels' target list.

The garrison was built on the spot where Div's entire family had died.

So Han understood why Div wanted it gone. He knew why the Rebels had decided to go along with Div and plan a strike. He was less clear about why he'd agreed to go along, much less volunteered for this recon mission. The garrison's blueprints were considered so valuable that they weren't stored in the computer system. Instead, only one hard copy existed, and it was housed in the basement of the Imperial administration center. Leia had appointed herself the one to retrieve it.

So here he was, by her side.

Han wasn't a big fan of whys. It didn't matter
why
he was here. All that mattered was getting in, getting the blueprints, and getting out. Both of them.

“Luke says go now,” he told Leia. R2-D2 had managed to tap into the security systems. He'd disabled the security alerts and holocams. Now Luke could see what was happening inside the building, but he was the only one. Luke was monitoring from beyond the perimeter, guiding them through safely. Supposedly.

Han and Leia ran soundlessly down the corridor, turning right at the third corner. And as promised, only two stormtroopers stood guarding the door. They fumbled with their blasters as Han and Leia appeared in the hallway.

But Han was faster. Laserfire burst from his blaster, and the stormtrooper on the right went down. The other dropped at nearly the same instant. Leia pocketed her smoking blaster pistol. Han shook his head in appreciation. The princess might have an attitude—but she also had perfect aim.

“Ready?” Leia asked, preparing the detonite charge that would blow open the locked door.

Han nodded and raised his blaster. There were no security holocams in the basement records room, which meant they were going in blind. He was ready, all right. Ready for anything.

Except for the door exploding
out
toward them before Leia even had a chance to plant the charge. Han and Leia flew backward, slamming hard into the wall. Their blasters clattered out of their hands.

Han lifted himself up. He shook his head and blinked hard, hoping he was seeing double. Maybe triple.

But the vision was real. A line of stormtroopers emerged from the dark basement and opened fire.

“Han!” Luke shouted into the comlink, starting to panic. “Leia! Han! What's going on?” But the comlink broadcast nothing but shouting and explosions. Luke was certain that amid the chaos, he heard Leia scream.

“Chewie! Come on—we're going in!” Luke cried, already springing into motion. He'd been monitoring the mission from a hidden spot by the freight entrance while Chewbacca waited nearby with the landspeeder, ready to take off at a moment's notice. The Wookiee didn't hesitate.

He threw himself against the door, which gave way like it was made of flimsiplast. Luke and Chewbacca barreled down the hallway. Luke led the way, the building's twisting corridors engraved in his mind. Not that it was difficult to find their way to the basement; all they had to do was follow the noise. Laserfire pings, shouts, grunts, explosions, and, again, something that sounded terrifyingly like Leia's scream.

They rounded the corner. Stormtrooper bodies littered the corridor. Han and Leia were battling their way through a storm of plastoid armor and laserfire. Smoke billowed through the hallway, giving their faces a gray, sickly pallor. Han aimed his weapon at one of the stormtroopers, but nothing happened. Luke realized he was out of ammo.

“Han, heads up!” he shouted, and without thinking, tossed his blaster over to his friend. Han jumped up and snatched it out of the air, then began firing again before his feet touched the ground.

Chewbacca's bowcaster was of little use in such a cramped space, but the Wookiee didn't hesitate to charge into the fight. He grabbed the stormtrooper closest to Leia and twisted his blaster into a knot with one hand as he slammed the trooper against the wall with the other.

Luke took it all in, even as he tried desperately to disarm the stormtroopers with his lightsaber.
Loose grip, firm shoulders, don't lean too hard to the right,
he thought, trying to remember all the advice Div had given him. He bent his knees slightly and tried to remember the first form—but was he supposed to parry before thrust, or thrust before parry? A blast of laserfire whizzing past his ear knocked him out of his confusion.
Stop trying to be a Jedi warrior,
he told himself.
Just stay alive.
Forgetting about form and technique and strategy, he hacked blindly with the lightsaber, letting the glowing blade guide his hands. The stormtrooper dropped to the ground.

Yes!
Luke thought. Then he saw Han standing behind the fallen trooper, a smoking blaster in his hands. “Thanks for the loaner,” he said, hoisting it at Luke like he was toasting a glass of lum. “Consider us even.”

It was the last of the stormtroopers. But surely more would be on the way. While Leia and Chewbacca covered the corridor, Luke and Han raced down into the records room. They tore through the files, searching for the garrison blueprints. Finally, Han shouted in triumph. “Got it!” he said, brandishing a data chip. “Let's go.”

They ran up the steps. Once at the top, Luke tossed a fragmentation grenade into the records room and slammed the door behind it. A moment later, they heard a muffled explosion. The Imperials would know they'd been here—but they would never know what the Rebels were trying to steal.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway. Their time was up. Luke led the way out of the building, but when they broke through to open air, they stopped cold.

Their landspeeder was gone.

“This way!” Luke shouted, catching sight of a few Imperial scout speeder bikes parked nearby. They raced toward them.

“Stop right there, you Rebel scum!” a stormtrooper shouted.

Laserfire shot past them. Running flat out toward the bikes, Luke twisted around and fired over his shoulder. The stormtrooper dived for cover. A second one had joined him, a blaster rifle in each hand.

Chewbacca reached the speeder bikes first and looked at them dubiously. They were narrow repulsorlift vehicles designed for a single rider. Handlebars for steering, foot pedals for speed and altitude, and no margin for error. The Wookiee growled something at Han, waving his furry arms in the air. Han shoved him toward the closest bike. “It'll hold you,” Han said quickly. “Trust me.” He hopped onto one of his own and lifted off. The Wookiee let out a mournful sigh, but he trusted Han. He jumped onto the bike and started the engine. It wobbled slightly, its repulsorlifts struggling to support the Wookiee's weight, but then the engine roared and the bike shot forward.

There was only one bike left.

“I said
stop
!” the stormtrooper shouted.

“I'll drive,” Leia said, yanking Luke toward the bike. “You shoot.”

They climbed on together and lifted off, thrusters on full. Luke straddled the bike and wrapped one arm around Leia's waist, using the other to fire back at the storm-troopers, who were fumbling with the door of a small storage shed off the side of the main administrative building.

Luke quickly understood why. The shed contained more speeder bikes. The stormtroopers were giving chase.

“Faster!” Luke urged Leia. “We have to get out of here!”

“Gee, thanks for the great idea,” Leia drawled. But the bike accelerated. The city turned into a grayish smear as they sped away from the dense center and out toward the corridor of factories along the coastline. Luke turned back and fired another barrage of laserfire. The stormtroopers swooped out of the way. One of them veered straight into the path of an oncoming troop carrier. It exploded on impact.

Luke grabbed Leia tighter as the shock wave slammed into them. The bike lurched forward and dropped several feet. Luke's stomach rocketed into his throat. But he kept firing. And Leia never flinched at the controls. She made a sharp turn into a narrow passageway, trying to lose the remaining stormtrooper in a zigzag of alleys. But the bike behind them drew closer and closer, and Leia had pushed the thrusters as far as they would go. They shot toward a narrow spit of land bounded by sea on one side and by a murky bay of toxic runoff from the nearby factories on the other.

The stormtrooper fired his bike's blaster cannon. The beam of laserfire pinged off the main battery of Luke's speeder. The speeder shuddered and lurched precariously to the side. Luke, who was holding on with only one hand, lost his balance. The bike tilted further, dumping him off the seat. He scrabbled for purchase but felt himself slipping. They weren't very high off the ground, but if he hit at this speed...He was dangling half off the bike, and as it tipped further, he lost his grip completely.

“Hold on!” Leia shouted, grasping his hand.

Luke dangled in midair. She couldn't hoist him up, not with one hand. It was hard enough to steer while holding on to him. And impossible to fire at the approaching stormtrooper.

Desperate, Luke had an idea. “Fly over the bay!” Luke shouted up to her, hoping she'd hear him over the roar of the engines. He held tight as she steered toward the toxic water. He winced as his body slammed into the bike, buffeted by the wind. They were flying so low that his toes skimmed the water. There was a sizzling noise and a trail of smoke as the toxic liquid ate away at his shoe. Luke yanked his legs out of the way and gripped Leia's hand tighter. He tried not to look down.

He still had his blaster, which meant he had a chance. Wind tore at his body, trying to rip it from Leia's grip. The stormtrooper was firing relentlessly, his shots coming closer and closer to the mark. He didn't have much time. And it was nearly impossible to aim, dangling by one hand as he shot forward at two hundred kilometers an hour.

But Luke was sure of one thing: He could hit any target at any speed. He blocked out the wind, the bubbling toxic sludge, the hail of laserfire.

He squeezed the trigger.

Direct hit. The Imperial's primary drive motor exploded in a shower of sparks, and the bike began spinning out of control. The stormtrooper went flying into the soupy lake of toxic waste. He landed with a loud splash, thrashing and flailing in the bubbling iridescent water. But soon he slipped below, the white armor disappearing into the deep. Luke shuddered.

A few more seconds, a little less luck, and it could have been him.

Leia helped him climb back aboard the bike. The engine thrummed beneath him. Leia was shaking. Luke took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Let's go,” he suggested, trying his best not to look at the toxic soup swirling beneath him. “Meet up with the others and start planning phase two.”

“Let's just hope it goes better than phase one,” Leia said, turning toward the rendezvous point.

“Couldn't go worse,” Luke pointed out.

Leia twisted around to give him a wry smile. “You know what Han would say to that.”