Star Wars - X-Wing - Krytos Trap

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Star Wars - X-Wing - Krytos Trap Page 36

by Michael A. Stackpole


  peating Blasters just inside the doorway, killing the soldiers

  crewing the weapon.

  Asyr's X-wing came in right behind Wedge's and re-

  peated his strafing run. As she flew through the area, Wedge

  chopped his thrust back, hit his rudder, and turned his

  fighter around. He punched the throttle, killing his momen-

  tum, then cut his repulsorlift coils in. Asyr sailed on past him

  and pulled up to begin a loop, while Wedge goosed his

  X-wing forward and brought it up in line with the ware-

  house opening.

  "They're running!" Wedge hit the trigger and scythed

  fire back and forth across the gaping warehouse entryway.

  Two laser-bolts caught a small airspeeder in the middle and

  aft, slicing it into three equal parts. The pieces flew across the

  open area and rebounded off a neighboring building, then

  tumbled into the urban canyon depths.

  The rest of his shots missed the legion of targets because

  what he was trying to hit tended to be small and moving very

  fast. Speeder bikes with and without sidecars corkscrewed

  fheir way out and down or up to elude him. One airspeeder

  just sailed out and dropped like a freefalling Hutt, sinking

  out of sight before he could track it. Others banked hard and

  flew fast to escape, though from corem unit chatter, each of

  them had been tagged and had pursuit on its way.

  An ugly green light strobed through the warehouse.

  Wedge nudged the X-wing forward, and saw boxy silhou-

  ettes, each supported on twin pillars, bobbing up and down

  in the warehouse. A shiver ran down his spine, then he keyed

  his corem unit. "Scout walkers, three of them, with two com-

  ing our way. I've got them."

  Wedge flicked his weapon's-control over to proton tor-

  pedoes. His aiming reticle went from yellow to red as the

  targeting computer locked on. Mynock shrieked with a lock-

  tone and Wedge hit his trigger. A proton torpedo streaked

  out, crossing the fifty meters between the X-wing and the

  warehouse in the blink of an eye.

  The proton torpedo caught the rightmost AT-ST in the

  outside leg, just below the upper joint. The torpedo sheered

  the leg off, and the impact spun the scout walker around. It

  crashed into the walker next to it, then rebounded and

  bounced to the ground. Ten meters behind it the proton tor-

  pedo exploded, detonating the walker's concussion grenade

  magazine.

  The second walker, which had awkwardly skipped for-

  ward after being bumped, ended up being slightly off balance

  when the grenades went off. A burst of green light from

  deeper within the warehouse outlined the upright walker as

  the downed walker's good leg whipped around and caught it

  across the ankles. The standing walker staggered as the pilot

  tried to widen its stance and remain upright. His efforts al-

  most paid off and the walker had begun to straighten up,

  when its left foot ran out of warehouse floor. The machine

  wavered for a moment, then slowly keeled over in an un-

  gainly plunge toward the ground.

  The green light, from the last AT-ST's twin blaster can-

  non, again lit the interior of the warehouse. What is it shoot-

  ing at? In the time it took him to form that question in his

  mind, he also came up with th e answer. No, can't let that

  happen.

  He nudged the throttle forward and picked up some

  speed. Flying into the warehouse, Wedge got to see the

  AT-ST fire one last shot at the far wall, widening the breach.

  An airspeeder--heavily laden, judging from the way the aft

  end struck sparks as it slewed around the scout walker--shot

  in toward the hole. The remaining walker squared off to face

  him and protect the airspeeder.

  The other vehicles were decoyst This one is the bomb.

  Wedge hit enough left rudder to track the airspeeder, then

  fired a proton torpedo. The projectile hit the ferrocrete deck-

  ing and skipped off, rising quickly. Instead of passing be-

  tween the AT-ST's legs, it slammed full into the cockpit. The

  explosion filled the end of the warehouse with a firestorm. A

  black cloud billowed up with red-gold flame-claws slashing

  their way clear of it, while pieces of debris and shrapnel

  ricocheted and bounced throughout the warehouse.

  Swirling tendrils of smoke curled out through the hole,

  and Wedge knew instantly where the airspeeder had gone.

  He guided the X-wing straight for the center of the hole the

  scout walker had opened in the other side of the warehouse.

  He made it through with centimeters to spare on both sides,

  then cut the repulsorlift generators and dove.

  "This is RogL, e Leader. The warehouse is clear. I'm out

  the other side."

  Hunter One sounded faintly amused. "We would have

  let you come back out this way, Rogue Leader."

  "Thanks, Hunter One, but I'm in pursuit of the bomb."

  Deep below him he saw the airspeeder level off and head

  toward lnvisec. "Let the bacta storehouse know it's incom-

  ing, and so am I. With luck, only one of us will get there."

  40

  "He's not the fat guy," said one of the three men facing

  Corran.

  "Doesn't matter. Kill him anyway."

  Corran pulled his right arm back and whipped it for-

  ward, sidearming the lightsaber toward the trio. The blade

  spun through a flat arc. The men on either side of the group-

  ing dove for cover, but the center man's eyes grew wide and

  glowed in the blade's icy light. He shot twice at the light-

  saber, but missed with both bolts.

  The lightsaber's silver shaft scythed through his middle

  and dropped him in two parts to the ground. Two wet, meaty

  thumps swallowed the clatter of the blaster carbine against

  the floor. The glowrod attached to the barrel flared, then

  went out.

  Corran dove to the left, rolled, and came up in a crouch.

  He tracked a moving cone of light and fired at its base. He

  heard no scream to indicate he had hit his target, then a

  spray of blaster-bolts from the right forced him to duck

  again. As he slipped back into the shadow of a statue, his

  two foes extinguished their glowrods, leaving the footlights

  as the only illumination in the larger room.

  Two assumptions I can make first, they have comlinks

  I

  something solid thump against the wall be-

  en before he heard the click of a comlink, he

  ld and rose up on his left knee. Jamming the

  against the wall with his right hand, he

  raked it upward. It pulled free of the wall at

  arc, spitting and hissing as blood evaporated

  shaft of light.

  man on the other side of the wall fell across

  ust as the third man, who had been approach-

  from the opposite side, opened fire. The

  ,ht two bolts that would have killed Corran

  in shifted aim and started tracking the light-

  bolt singed the hair on the back of Corran's

  rest passed by without hurting him.

  left hand came up and he snapped off
two

  blaster carbine's muzzle flashes. Both hit.

  crashed backward into a display case, then

  angles. In the footlight Corran could see

  once or twice, as if still working the trigger

  that had fallen to the floor, then the man lay

  tinguished the lightsaber, then clipped it to his

  the belt around so the weapon hung at his

  mldn't bang against the bruised one. Pocketing

  he crawled over to the body of the first

  loosened the chinstrap on the hehnet and

  lside it he found a comlink in a clip. He pulled

  for a moment to see if other troopers were

  the comlink remained silent.

  the second man's blaster carbine and

  glowrod. He played it over the dead men and

  black uniforms weren't any sort of Imperial

  seen before, and the men themselves were

  that he knew they weren't storm-

  never seen a stormtrooper without a helmet

  see them looking quite this ordinary. Still, the

  T, so he assumed the three dead

  of a local constabulary force. Another

  thought you were allies, but in CorSec we

  and are going to be coordinating their attack. Second, they

  can or have called for backup, which means they win the

  waiting game. I have to get out of here, and the only way to

  do that is by going out the way they came in. He glanced

  over at the doorway which the lightsaber's glow backlit.

  They're moving out to surround me, so now's the best time

  to go.

  Corran bobbed up and down twice, using the light-

  saber's light to silhouette the obstacles in his way. The path

  looked fairly clear. He reached into his pocket and ran his

  thumb over the ruined face of the Jedi medallion. You're not

  the one I used ?br hack, but here's hoping there was some left

  in the dies when you were struck.

  He took off at a dead run, cutting around one statue and

  then a display case before heading toward the doorway. Lit-

  tle holograms flickered to life behind him, drawing attention

  first to themselves, then to him. The first few shots fired at

  him burned holes in his cloak, but then his assailants shifted

  their aim and raked the doorway with blasterfire--blasterfire

  that should have exploded his heart and reduced his lungs to

  cinders.

  And it would have except that the Jedi cloak caught the

  corner of the display case. It yanked Corran from his feet,

  then the throat clasp snapped. With his momentum thus

  slackened but far from depleted, he flew through the door-

  way feet first, centimeters below the line of blasterfire. He hit

  hard on his right hip and cracked his right knee on the gran-

  ite floor, then slid toward the middle of the room.

  His right hand closed on the hilt of the lightsaber. He

  switched it off and scrambled back toward the doorway

  through which he had just flown. He hoped to find the dead

  man's blaster carbine, but as he settled his back against the

  wall beside the doorway he saw its outline two meters away

  on the wrong side of the opening. Hopeless. Gotta get up.

  gotta run for the exit--wherever it is. Even though he knew

  running was the only viable plan, the stiffening sensation in

  his knee and hip told him a weak limp was going to be the

  best he could manage. And l'll get raped for the ef/rt. I'm

  dead.

  Then

  hind him.

  twisted ar

  lightsaber

  flicked it c

  the top ot

  from the s

  The b

  the doorw

  ing the dt

  dead man

  before the

  saber's arc

  hand, but

  Corra

  shots tow;

  The third

  hung then

  his hands 1

  of the wea

  still.

  Corra

  belt. He sl

  left hip am

  his holdou

  man he'd

  pulled it ot

  it out and i

  on the wa,

  He FC

  turned on

  frowned. 1

  uniform h

  mismatche

  troopers. I

  on, but I c

  uniforms x

  men were

  time l'd h

  didn't shoot someone just because he wasn't the suspect we

  were looking for.

  Corran played the glowrod over the bottom of the com-

  link and adjusted the frequency. Now to find out where we

  are. While he had long detested the Empire, it did manage to

  do some things with a remarkable amount of efficiency. One

  of them was the establishment and maintenance of standard

  measures. On each world broadcast stations had been set up

  to provide the exact time, both local and in relation to Co-

  ruscant. By tuning into that signal he could find out where he

  was and what time it was. It occurs to me I've not seen

  outside for a long time.

  He held the comlink near his ear and slowly limped over

  to the hole the trio had blown in the wall on the far side of

  the chamber. "Must be a real backwater planet if they only

  sent three guys to catch an escaped prisoner--even if they

  thought I was Derricote. I wonder if I can ever get off it?"

  Over the comlink he heard a mechanical voice an-

  nounce, "8 hours, 45 minutes, Coordinated Galactic Time."

  "Great, I'm on a world that's set its clocks to Coruscant

  time, no matter what the local situation is." He hefted the

  blaster carbine, glanced at the power level indicator, then

  played the light out through the hole into the next room.

  Unlike the one he had found himself in, the room beyond the

  hole was clean and orderly. Even better, there is an open

  doorway to the outside.

  He was about to step through the wall when two irrec-

  oncilable ideas collided in his brain. It was rather clear that

  he was inside some sort of storehouse filled with Jedi memo-

  rabilia. The mansion from which he had escaped had obvi-

  ously been an Imperial Moff's retreat, but what Imperial

  Moff would risk his position by hoarding so much Jedi mate-

  rial? The only Moff who could do that would be a powerful

  one, and powerful Moffs weren't found on backwater

  worlds.

  Actually, there were no Moffs so powerful that they

  would have dared defy the Emperor and Vader by boarding

  this stuff. Only the Emperor could have . . . Corran's jaw

  dropped open. And the chck here is set to Coruscant

  time ....

  Corran slumped against the wall. It can't be. I can't be

  on Coruscant. It makes no sense. I remember traveling on a

  ship. Then again, I was so doped up . . . Maybe l am on

  Coruscant and lsard just wanted me to think I wasn't on

  Coruscant. He chuckled. It would explain why no one ever

  found Lusankya--it was here all the time, which means she

  is, too.

  He glanced back at the dead men. And she has enough

  pull with local authorities to have them out bunting Der-

  rioore. I may be out of her dutches, but I'm not free, yet.
He

  glance d at the comlink and thought about tuning into the

  military frequencies Rogue Squadron used, but rejected that

  plan for two reasons. I'm not going to have the right scram-

  bier codes to let me hear and speak with them, and even if I

  did, there's the traitor to consider.

  He shook his head. 1 need someone I can trust. It's a

  long shot, but it's the only one I have. He set the comlink

  and opened a channel. "This is Corran Horn calling. I'm not

  dead--I only feel like it--and I could use some help returning

  to the land of the living."

  41

  Wedge pulled back on the X-wing's stick and leveled out

  approximately 300 meters behind and above the airspeeder.

  He had to trim his speed back because even though the

  X-wing could close fast, the airspeeder could turn faster

  within the close confines of the city. Part of Wedge knew

  racing speeder bikes through the forests of Endor was safer

  than doing what he was doing, but he had no choice. That

  bomb has to be stopped.

  "Mynock, make sure you're getting a solid tracking feed

  on that airspeeder."

  The astromech droid shrilled out a confirmation of that

  order. Wedge watched the tracking data get updated, then

  rolled up on the right stabilizer foil and dove. He cruised

  down below the speeder's line of flight, entering a large bou-

  levard that sped him forward toward Invisec. If I can head

  him off... "Mynock, plot all his routes from here to the

  target."

  The droid shrieked like wind howling off the S-foils.

  Wedge wove his way through the undercity, cutting

  around buildings, over walkways, and through tunnels, all

  the while marveling at the intricate labyrinth that was Corus-

  cant. Making his way in and out, up and over or around

  tested his skills as a pilot. While not much of the dawn's light

  penetrated that deeply in the city, he did have enough to

  navigate by, but only just barely.

  A shiver ran down his spine. Corran and the others were

  flying out here at night when we took Coruscant. I never

  really appreciated what they did until now.

  Mynock hooted at him. Wedge glanced down at his

  monitor and saw various schematics flash past. "Slower, My-

  hock, I'm flying here, too." Wedge marked the location of

 

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