Star Wars - Rebel Force 03 - Firefight

by Alex Wheeler

  "Choose, human," Grish said. "Or we choose for you."

  Div knew he could disarm Clea and probably Grish before either of them got off a shot. But it would leave them all vulnerable to an attack by the Rebels. He couldn't take on all five by himself.

  He'd meant what he'd said: He was a pilot, not a bounty hunter. He'd been hired to best Skywalker from the cockpit. But he wasn't about to sacrifice his life for a bunch of strangers. No difference between shooting them here and shooting them up there, he told himself.

  "Han, it's coming," Luke said suddenly, sounding alarmed.

  "Kid, not now, we're—"

  "No. Now!" Luke cried, pointing at something behind Div. "Run!"

  Grish issued a harsh chuckle. "You think I'm going to fall for that one? Maybe you die first, for treating me like a koochu." A flash of green laserfire streamed from his blaster, but Luke was already in motion, diving for cover. Solo and the Wookiee raced after Luke.

  "Behind you, Grish," Div said quietly, slowly inching backward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clea run. Probably the smarter move. But Div stood his ground.

  "If I'm not going to buy it from him, why would I buy it from you? You think—blaaaaghraugh!" The noise he made was a combination of a gurgle, a scream, and a snort as a long tentacle wrapped around his chest. His blaster clattered to the floor.

  The…thing hoisted Grish off the ground. It was at least six meters tall, with black skin that shimmered like an oil slick. Its mouth, a gaping maw rimmed with jagged teeth, was nearly as wide as its torso. It moved with surprising speed, dragging itself on six thick, powerful tentacles. And at the tip of each tentacle, a razor-sharp retractable claw sprouted. Div's blaster shots bounced off the beast's scaly hide. The creature issued a keening moan but never loosened its grip on Grish. Then the beast opened its massive jaws and swallowed the Chistori whole.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The pilots scattered. Han dived for cover beneath a storage bin. Chewbacca pried loose a strip of wall paneling and wedged himself into a crevice, shielding himself with the strip of thick transparisteel. Luke ducked behind one of the lab stations. He peered through a crack in the durasteel, watching the creature slime across the laboratory. For a beast of its size, it moved remarkably fast.

  Instead of hiding, the enemy pilots ran, even though the beast stood between them and the exit. The creature was too fast for them. It cut them off and lunged toward the woman, its jaw gaping wide. She fired her blaster, but the laserfire just glanced off its scaly chest.

  "No!" the other pilot shouted, raking blasterfire up and down the beast's body, searching for a weak spot. Nothing penetrated the hide or even slowed the creature down. It pounced again. The woman darted out of the way just in time, but the creature swung at her with one of its thick tentacles and knocked her off her feet.

  Luke couldn't just stand by and watch. Even if she'd been trying to kill him a few moments before, she didn't deserve to die like this. No one did. He jumped up from behind the lab station and shot his blaster at the ceiling. "Over here!"

  "What do you think you're doing?" Han whispered fiercely from his hiding space.

  Luke ignored Han—and the creature ignored Luke, who rushed to help the pilots. But before he could reach them, the woman let loose a bloodcurdling scream. And she was gone.

  There was no time to panic or mourn. The creature was still hungry. Luke joined the other pilot. The beast looked even larger close up. It loomed over them, at least three times their size. Luke sprayed it with blasterfire, searching for a stretch of skin that wasn't covered by leathery armored hide. But the monster's flesh seemed impenetrable. Their combined blasterfire was holding the creature at bay, but just barely. The distance between them narrowed.

  Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and a chunk of duracrete exploded from the ceiling, crashing down on the creature's head. It spasmed in pain and jerked out of the way, revealing Han and Chewbacca standing behind it, their weapons aimed at the ceiling. "What are you staring at, kid?" Han shouted. "Let's blast this thing back where it came from!"

  Luke began firing again, this time aiming for the monster's gaping mouth, in hopes that it would be more sensitive than the rest of the creature's body. Luke's laserfire strafed the creature's thick black tongue, and it began to shriek with pain. Driven backward by the combined firepower of four blasters, wounded and in pain, the creature lashed a long tentacle at Han and Chewbacca, knocking them off their feet. "Han!" Luke cried in alarm.

  But the creature didn't move in for the kill. Instead, having cleared a path for itself, it slithered swiftly across the room and plunged into the large pool of water with a noisy splash. It disappeared beneath the surface, leaving nothing behind but rippling water and a trail of blood.

  Div stared at the spot where Clea had lain waiting for the creature to strike. At the last moment, she'd stopped fighting back; she'd given up. He had seen it in her eyes: the dull, hopeless look of a cornered animal just waiting to die.

  That will never be me, he told himself. He'd seen too much death to give himself up to it willingly. Fight to the last breath—that was the only way to stay alive.

  Someone tapped his shoulder, and he flinched, instinctively swiveling his blaster toward the nearest target. Luke Skywalker.

  "I said, are you all right?" Luke asked.

  The other one, Han Solo, said nothing. But he kept his blaster aimed steadily at Div's head. The Wookiee stood by his side, growling warily.

  "Fine," Div said shortly. He didn't like standing out in the open like this. The creature could be back at any moment. And it didn't give him much comfort that the combined strength of three blasters had done little more than irritate its hide.

  "I guess now we know why this place was abandoned," Han said, shaking his head. "What was that thing?"

  "The latest Imperial wonder," Div said darkly. "Aren't we lucky to live in a time of such advanced civilization?"

  Luke's eyes widened. "You think the Empire created that thing?" he asked.

  It had been less than a minute, and Div was already exhausted by the Rebel's breathless naïveté. "Kaminoan scientists employed by the Empire," he said, annoyed by having to explain something so basic. "They're expert genetic manipulators, and obviously that…creature didn't have natural origins."

  Luke and Han exchanged a glance, and Han gave Luke a nearly imperceptible nod. "Surprised you're not more impressed," Han said.

  "Impressed? By the Emperor's latest killing machine?" Div raised an eyebrow. "The slaughter of innocent people doesn't impress me, nor the tools used to do it."

  "That's surprising coming from someone who turned himself into an Imperial killing machine," Luke said angrily.

  Div stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means if you hate the Empire so much, why would you work for them?"

  "Easy. I wouldn't."

  Luke laughed. "Who do you think sent you out here to kill us?"

  "None of your business," Div said angrily. "But I assure you it wasn't the Empire."

  "Why, because they told you so?" Luke's sarcasm was heavy and awkward, and Div could tell it wasn't a tone the Rebel adopted very often.

  But the taunt was harder to shrug off than it should have been. Div liked to tell himself that he didn't do business with the Empire. But these days, when you followed money, you often found yourself at the Emperor's doorstep. If it wasn't the Empire, it was Jabba's gang, and if it wasn't Jabba, it was Xizor and the Black Sun syndicate—and when you dug deep enough, there was no real difference between them. They were all bloodthirsty thugs who'd acquired a taste for power. It was true that Div had never knowingly worked for any of them.

  But ignorance was easy when you didn't want to know.

  What would Trever think? The thought popped into his head without his permission, and he blotted it out just as quickly. He knew exactly what Trever would have thought—that he'd sold out, abandoned his principles, abandoned his people. That he'd given up, ju
st like Clea, and was now just waiting to die.

  But Trever was the one who'd died.

  The Empire had taken his mother, his stepfather, everyone he'd ever known or cared about. Not to mention Ry-Gaul, Solace, Garen Muln…all the names and faces he'd forced himself to forget. And Div had learned his lesson. You did what you needed to do to survive. Even if it meant keeping your head down and your mouth shut.

  "How about you lower that blaster?" he suggested to Han.

  "How about I put a hole in you before you put one in me?" Han shot back.

  "You want to shoot me, shoot me," Div said, thinking, Good luck with that. Han's reflexes were fast; that was clear enough. But he was no match for Div. "All I care about is escaping this planet in one piece."

  "So you can kill us in space?" Luke said snidely.

  Div shrugged. "May the best pilot win, right? But we'll never know who that is until we're back up there. So how about no one blasts anyone until that happens? Deal?" He lowered his blaster. Someone had to go first.

  "I don't make deals with men who try to kill me," Han growled. "It's a quick way to end up dead." But he lowered his blaster, too. He jerked his head at Luke. "Come on, kid. Let's go find ourselves a ship."

  Div watched them file out of the laboratory, the tiny astromech droid wheeling dutifully behind. Han paused in the doorway, glaring at Div. "Well?" he drawled. "What are you waiting for?"

  Han waited impatiently as R2-D2 probed the research station's computer system. "Take your time," he said sarcastically after several minutes had elapsed. "It's not like we're in any danger."

  But the little astromech droid kept working with his manipulator arm plugged into the socket, softly whirring as he sifted through the reams of data. They had concluded that the computer was the best place to start. Rather than wandering randomly through the station, hoping luck would show them the way, they had decided to leave their fate up to R2-D2's data-crunching skills.

  At least, Luke had decided. When it came to a choice between trusting his gut and trusting a droid, Han chose his gut, each and every time. Even though their mission had gone astray, Luke was still in charge. And Han had to admit that a map would come in handy. If the scrap-head could find one.

  With a triumphant trill of beeps and whistles, R2-D2 drew them over to the computer screen. A detailed schematic of the research station spread across it, two docking bays clearly marked on opposite ends of the building.

  "Good job, Artoo!" Luke said, patting the astromech's silver-plated head.

  "That's some droid," the enemy pilot said.

  Han glared at him. He'd agreed to let the man come along on their search for ships—no doubt an extra blaster could come in handy—but that didn't make them allies. The temporary truce didn't extend to polite small talk.

  "Let's go," Han said gruffly. "We'll find ourselves a ship while the droid deals with the security system." A ship would do them no good if they couldn't disable the tractor beam that had dragged them to the surface to begin with.

  "You want to leave Artoo behind?" Luke asked.

  Chewbacca growled his own hesitation at the idea.

  Luke shook his head. "I don't—"

  "What are you worried about?" Han cut in. They couldn't waste any more time; the longer they stuck around, the shorter their lives were likely to be. "You think that…whatever you want to call it would eat a rusty bucket of bolts when there's so much fresh meat wandering around? He'll be fine."

  "He's probably right," the enemy pilot said. "From what I could tell of the creature, organic-based nutrients seem to be—"

  "Let's go," Han said shortly, shooting the pilot a nasty look. As if he needed the man's help to convince Luke of the obvious. "Sooner we go, sooner we can come back for him."

  "He's right, you'll be fine," Luke told R2-D2, sounding unconvinced. "You sure you can disable that security system?"

  The droid beeped confidently.

  Luke still looked worried. "We'll come back for you, Artoo. I promise."

  Han cleared his throat. "Enough with the tearful good-byes, kid."

  "Let's go," Luke agreed.

  They crept down the dark hallways single file. Chewbacca took the lead, his bowcaster in his hands, ready to fire. Han followed him, darting his eyes from side to side, seeking out any dark corner in which a monster might lurk. Luke brought up the rear, keeping his eyes peeled for a threat from behind—or from the mystery pilot, who could turn on them at any moment.

  Their footsteps echoed through the empty station. Dim, flickering emergency lights lined the corridor, casting off an eerie glow. Several of the rooms they passed contained large pools of water—some man-made like the one in the atrium, others little more than large jagged gashes in the floor, as if something large and angry had chewed its way through. Han suppressed a shudder and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

  Nothing interrupted the quiet but their footfalls and a rhythmic drip, water droplets spattering to the durasteel floor.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Han looked up suddenly, a drop of water splashing onto his forehead. The water was flowing in small rivulets from large overhead gratings. They likely led to air or heating ducts—but that wouldn't explain where the water was coming from.

  Unless…

  Han froze. "Chewie," he whispered, swiveling his blaster toward the nearest grate, "Luke, do either of you—"

  There was a strangled scream behind him. Div. Han whirled around just in time to see the monstrous beast looming over Luke. A busted ceiling grate lay on the floor next to him.

  "Look out, kid!" Han shouted, firing at the beast. But he was too late. The jaws were already descending toward Luke. A moment later, they'd swallowed him whole. "No!" Han screamed. He and Chewbacca unleashed all their firepower on the monstrous creature. It roared and fled from the blasts, slithering up the wall and disappearing into the air ducts.

  Han couldn't breathe. It had all happened so fast. One scream, one blur of motion, and then nothing left but the acrid stench of smoke and charred flesh. He squeezed his hands around his blaster, silently urging the beast to return so he could slaughter it.

  But the beast was gone.

  The enemy pilot was gone.

  And Luke—

  Han staggered against the wall. Chewbacca moaned.

  Luke was gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Luke woke up screaming.

  He opened his eyes, but the world remained totally dark.

  He was trapped somewhere, sealed up tightly against the light. Either that or I'm blind, Luke thought, trying to keep the panic at bay. After all, it was a miracle he wasn't dead. Yet. He tried to focus on that.

  He couldn't move.

  Blind and paralyzed, he thought, struck by a sudden horror. Maybe I am dead. Maybe this is what death means.

  An eternity, silent and motionless. An eternity frozen in this dark nothing.

  No. As the panic wore off and his surroundings came into sharper detail, Luke realized that he could still feel his arms and legs. He could even contract the muscles. He just couldn't move, not an inch. Some kind of warm, sticky slime was holding him in place. It was pulsing, squeezing him with a slow, steady rhythm. Like a heartbeat.

  Suddenly, he knew exactly where he was. And the panic returned.

  The last thing he'd seen was the beast's mouth closing over him. I'm inside the creature, Luke realized. It ate me and now…

  And now what? Would he lie here encased in glop while the creature slowly digested him? For a moment, he wished he'd never woken up.

  But he dismissed the thought. As long as he was alive, he could fight. He struggled to break free of the slime. If he could just reach his lightsaber, he could slice his way out. But his arm wouldn't budge. He was pinned tightly.

  We're moving, Luke thought, his stomach lurching. It feels like we're falling.

  He had no way to find out if that was true and no way to save himself. He
was helpless.

  It's not supposed to end this way, Luke thought angrily. The Rebellion needs me. Leia needs me.

  Like I needed Ben, he thought. And Aunt Beru. And Uncle Owen.

  All of them dead now, needed or not.

  Luke struggled with renewed energy against the gunk. Maybe he was doomed. But he wasn't about to give up. Until the very last moment, he would struggle, He would fight.

  He would hope.

  The chamber contracted. The walls crushed Luke in on himself. An iron grip seized his lungs, squeezing out his last breath. This is it, he thought.

  And then he felt himself rolling through the slimy darkness and was flung into the light. The creature had vomited him up. Luke drew in a deep, heaving breath. He was lying on a flat bed of rock, coated with a sticky fluid. He was in a cave of some kind, with a deep pool at its center. The creature loomed over him, lips drawn back to reveal its jagged teeth. Luke whipped out his blaster and pulled the trigger. There was a soft pop, a fizzle of smoke—then nothing. He dropped the blaster and grabbed his lightsaber just as the creature shook its mighty head and slithered away. Before Luke could activate it, the beast had disappeared into the water.

  Luke clipped the lightsaber back to his belt and climbed to his feet. He wasn't alone. The remaining enemy pilot lay on his side, gasping and heaving. It sounded like he was coughing up his organs. Luke knelt by his side. "Are you all right?"

  The man shook him off and pushed himself into a sitting position. "I've been swallowed by a giant…whatever-that-was and expelled into its blasted lair," he said in a rasping voice. He drew in a few more deep breaths, then stood up. "Does that seem all right to you?"

  The cave was small and dark, with stalactites overhead that reminded Luke of the creature's jagged teeth. A foul stench clogged the air, but he couldn't be sure whether that was coming from the cave or from the slime that coated him from head to toe.

  "The creature escaped through there," Luke said, pointing at the pool of water. "There must be some kind of opening to the outside." They didn't have much choice but to follow its example.