Star Wars - Rebel Force 03 - Firefight

by Alex Wheeler

  "Not yet."

  "But—" Before Luke could persist with his annoying questions, the water rippled and churned. The creature surfaced, dragging itself onto the rocks with giant tentacles. Luke raised the lightsaber and rushed at the beast.

  "Luke, no!" Div shouted.

  But Luke ignored him and slashed at the creature with rough, clumsy strokes. The beast moaned in pain once, twice, proof that Luke had made glancing contact with his thick hide. But then a thick tentacle slashed the air, slamming hard into Luke's stomach. The aspiring Jedi flew backward across the cave, his lightsaber sailing in the opposite direction. Div darted forward, snatching the weapon in midair.

  As if sensing the danger, the creature turned toward him. Div was ready. It should have felt strange to hold a lightsaber again. And in a way, it was. The hilt seemed too small in his hand, too light. He overcompensated at first, swinging hard against the creature and nearly stumbling when the blade met little resistance. But the confusion, the clumsiness, it lasted no more than a second or two. Then…it was like coming home. The blade danced wildly, lighting up the dim cave. He ducked beneath a swinging tentacle, leapt over another one. The blade sliced through the tentacles like they were made of air. The creature shrieked in rage and pain, its keens echoing through the cave as Div lashed out with the blade once, twice—again and again.

  He didn't stop until the cries faded to silence and the creature was dead on the ground, sliced into pieces. When he looked up, Luke was staring at him in astonishment.

  "Where did you learn how to do that?" Luke asked in a hushed voice.

  Div shrugged. "What's to learn? It's just a blade, like any other."

  "But I thought only a Jedi could—"

  "I don't care what you think," Div said stiffly. "I've been around. I've seen this kind of weapon before. That's all, nothing more." He looked down at the lightsaber. It was so much more graceful than a blaster, so much more deadly. And for just a moment, he was tempted to claim it as his own.

  But that would mean claiming far more than the weapon, and the time for that had passed long ago.

  "Here," he said, and tossed the lightsaber to Luke. "This is yours. Take better care of it this time."

  "Were you trained by Jedi?" Luke asked eagerly. "Who were they? What were they like? Are any of them still…?"

  Alive, Div thought. That's what he wants to ask, but he can't bring himself to say the word. Because he knows the answer. "The past is past," he said. "I don't talk about it."

  "But why do you—" Luke caught the steely expression on Div's face and cut himself off. He cleared his throat. "You could at least tell me your name," he said after a moment. "Or is that part of the secret past, too?"

  "Div," he said, because that was the name he'd gone by for nearly two decades. But then he hesitated. If Luke knew about the Jedi, what else did he know? "Lune Divinian," he said carefully, watching Luke's face for a flicker of recognition. Something. But there was nothing. And Div found he was disappointed.

  He shook it off. "So, we're not going to be eaten anytime soon," he said, approaching the dead beast. "All that means is a long, boring death, unless we can figure a way out of here. Of course, there could be more than one."

  "What if we went out the same way we came in," Luke mused.

  "We're trying to avoid being breakfast," Div reminded him. "And even if the thing weren't dead, I don't speak monster well enough to request that it not digest us this time around. Do you?"

  Luke ignored the taunt. "We know its stomach is airtight," he said, "and can hold enough air for us to breathe until we reach the surface. So if we could find a way to use it, turn it into some kind of waterproof casing—"

  "Like a submarine," Div said, suddenly hopeful. The so-called Jedi was smarter than he looked.

  "You think it could work?"

  Div couldn't help sneaking a look at Grish's dead body and at the moss-covered bones littering the floor of the cave. "I think it has to."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "You sure this gadget's going to work?" Han asked as R2-D2 put the finishing touches on the modified tracking device.

  The droid beeped irritably and continued his work.

  "Well, hurry it along," Han said impatiently.

  Chewbacca issued a warning growl.

  "How do you know he's doing the best he can?" Han asked. "That bucket of bolts acts like we have all the time in the world."

  R2-D2 beeped again, and Chewbacca barked at Han.

  "No, I won't admit that we wouldn't have found the scientist if it weren't for him. I had a feeling there was someone else on the station. Besides, even a laserbrain could have guessed that Luke might still be alive somewhere."

  Chewbacca didn't even dignify that with an answer. Han ignored the Wookiee and concentrated on the astromech droid. He knew that yelling at R2-D2 wasn't going to speed things up, but he couldn't help himself. He was impatient. The longer they hung around, the greater chance that the beast would return.

  Of course, that was what they were hoping for—but not yet. Not until they were ready.

  R2-D2 whistled triumphantly and held the modified tracker out to Han. He examined the device. Even he had to admit that it was nice work. Especially considering that all the droid had to work with were the homing beacons from the left-over Kaminoan craft. "You sure this will work?"

  The droid beeped and wheeled across the room, indicating that it was time for the next phase of their plan. Han took a deep breath and followed. This was it: If the plan worked, the beast would eat the tracker. If not, it would eat Han.

  Han grinned. Either way, kid, looks like I'll be seeing you soon.

  Han shifted his weight, trying not to seem nervous. What was there to be nervous about? So he was sitting in the middle of the abandoned laboratory, carefully positioned near the pool of still, dark water, waiting for a disgusting sea creature to attack. So what?

  "Any day now, you slimesucker," Han muttered, wondering what was taking so long. Maybe it only feeds once a day, he thought. Or once a month.

  But he pushed those doubts out of his mind. This had to work. Luke was counting on him.

  The water rippled.

  Han tensed, blaster in one hand, homing beacon in the other.

  A massive scaled snout emerged, jaws wide, jagged teeth gleaming in the dim light. Han took an involuntary step back, then steadied himself. This plan depended on split-second timing. He couldn't run away, not until the time was right.

  The creature slithered out of the water, its tentacles slapping hard against the durasteel floor. It reared up, scenting prey. Han froze as the beast loomed over him. He'd never been this close before. But now he could see the black pupils pooling in wide eyes, the drops of water trickling down its thick, pitted hide, the sharp stingers embedded along its tentacles, the deep, dark gully of its throat as it opened its jaws improbably wide and swooped down…

  Chewbacca's panicked howl snapped Han out of his horrified trance.

  "Now!" Han shouted.

  Chewbacca fired a burst of laserfire straight at the creature's mouth. As it let loose an agonized howl, Han drew back his arm and pitched the tracking device straight into the creature's gaping maw. Before it could recover, he scampered out of the way, racing for the other side of the room. Chewbacca kept firing, careful to aim for the beast's tentacles and armored torso. The last thing they wanted now was to kill the creature before it led them back to Luke.

  As the beast screeched and writhed in the hail of laserfire, searching in vain for its attacker, Han crept out of the laboratory and locked the door shut behind him. He joined Chewbacca, who was aiming his blaster through a narrow hole they'd drilled in the wall.

  "Enough," Han said quietly.

  The Wookiee stopped firing, and Han peered through the hole, eager to see what the creature would do next. It slithered around the laboratory, searching for something—someone—to eat. Maybe it smelled Han, or maybe it spotted his eye flickering behind the hole in the wall,
because it edged closer and closer to his hiding spot, flattening its head against the hole. Han flinched and drew back. The beast slammed a tentacle against the wall, and another. Han held his breath, his hands tight around the blaster. He didn't want to kill the beast.

  But he wasn't about to die in its place.

  The creature was strong, but the durasteel was stronger. The wall held.

  The laboratory had other exits. If the creature was determined to find its prey, it could slither off in another direction and search the station. Han prepared himself for a long spukamas and mouse game. But instead, the beast snuffled and grunted, then slipped back into the water. It submerged with a splash, and was gone.

  Chewbacca growled a question.

  "How should I know, pal?" Han said. "Long day of stalking people—maybe it's just tired."

  Maybe it's just full. But that fell into the category of things he wouldn't allow himself to think about. Nothing could be done if Luke was dead. But as long as there was even a chance that the kid was still alive, Han had to push forward.

  Once they were sure the creature wasn't coming back, Chewbacca and Han joined R2-D2 before a large monitor. The screen lit with a map of the city. If the droid had programmed the tracker correctly, if it hadn't malfunctioned in the creature's gullet, if the beast returned to his feeding ground, if Luke was still alive…

  There were a lot of ifs. But Han was a gambler; ifs were what made life fun.

  "Come on, you blasted beast," he muttered. "Take us home."

  They waited for the tracker's blinking light to appear on the screen.

  They waited a long, painful moment. And another.

  "I see it!" Han shouted as a small green light appeared and inched slowly across the map. "The overgrown slug's showing us exactly where to go!"

  He gave R2-D2 a dome-rattling slap on the back.

  Chewbacca released a worried growl, tracing a furry paw across the screen. Han winced. "You're right; it's headed for the sea." He'd seen some Roamer-6 breath masks in the supply room when they were rummaging for spare parts for the tracking device. It was the same model they carried on the Falcon, because unlike most rebreathers, it could fit a Wookiee. Breathing underwater would be the easy part. Sure, they could swim down in search of the creature's lair—but it was hard to fight underwater, and their blasters would be useless. So how were they supposed to rescue Luke without becoming meals themselves?

  If only there was some way to be on equal footing with the creature. Some way to turn the water to their advantage…

  "That's it!" Han shouted suddenly as a rough plan began to coalesce. Chewbacca barked excitedly. Han shook his head. "No time to explain. I'll tell you on the way." He turned to the astromech droid. "Stay here and ready the ships. Chewie and I will be back soon—and so will Luke. We're finally blasting off this rock. All of us."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Luke guided the lightsaber along the seam of flesh, cauterizing the edge. "I think that does it," he said, surveying their work. He and Div had sliced the beast open and crafted a large, lumpy, misshapen bubble out of its massive stomach cavern. The result was a semi-translucent container with just enough space for two humans. If they were lucky, it would keep the air in and the water out. Luke had done most of the work, as he wasn't about to let Div take the lightsaber again. But Div hadn't asked. He'd seemed content to stand by as Luke sliced and diced the creature, helping Luke stretch and press the flesh into a shape they could use.

  Luke still didn't trust the man. But he was grateful for the help.

  "You ready?" he asked.

  "Always," Div said.

  They climbed into the bubble and, using the heat of the lightsaber to melt the edges together, sealed themselves inside. Now there was no time to spare. The bubble held a finite amount of air. Once it was gone, they were dead.

  They had managed to shape the slimy flesh around their legs, giving them the flexibility to propel themselves forward. It might even allow them to steer. But they had no idea whether they'd have enough buoyancy to keep the bubble from sinking once it was out in the open sea. This was their last option. That didn't make it a good one.

  Nodding at Div, Luke began to scrabble his feet against the cave rock, pushing them forward into the pool of water. They tipped over the edge with a splash. Luke braced himself, waiting for water to blow through the seams of the bubble, flooding them before they could even begin. But the membrane held. A mild current carried them slowly through the tunnel of water, drawing them into the sea. Luke breathed shallowly, trying not to worry about how much air they had left. He had survived the journey down from the surface. They had no reason to believe there wouldn't be enough air to make it in the opposite direction.

  The bubble slowly rose toward the surface. Schools of orange-and-gray-striped fish skittered out of the way. They floated past rocky outcroppings of rainbow-colored corals, spindly branches alive with tiny creatures. Long tendrils of seaweed swayed with the current; bright eyes gleamed from behind the undulating green curtain.

  Gradually, the water took on a dim glow. They were nearing the surface.

  This is actually going to work, Luke thought.

  That was before a shadow passed over them like a storm cloud. A well of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach, Luke looked up. He gasped.

  It was another of the beasts. It glided through the water, its thick tentacles trailing behind it. Luke gripped his lightsaber.

  "Are you insane?" Div hissed. "You slice this thing open, we drown."

  "That thing comes for us, we're dead anyway," Luke shot back, though he knew that Div was right. He holstered the weapon. "What should we do?"

  But Div, who'd been acting like he had all the answers, was silent.

  "Maybe it won't see us," Luke said.

  "Maybe we should paddle back to the cave," Div suggested.

  "Back?" Luke exclaimed. "But we're so close!"

  "We can't fight. We can't hide. What do you want to do?" Div sighed. "Sometimes you have to play it safe."

  Sometimes these days, it felt like playing it safe was all Luke ever did. But maybe Div was right. What other option did they have?

  "Now," Div urged him, "before that thing realizes we're here. We can always try again."

  They began paddling back toward the mouth of the cave. But the bubble was too buoyant, and the current too strong. No matter what they did, they kept floating up—toward the surface, toward the creature. "This isn't working," Luke said nervously, looking up at the underbelly of the beast. "And if it senses that we're here—"

  "I think we may have bigger problems," Div said quietly.

  Luke looked away from the creature. His mouth dropped open.

  The thick membrane of the bubble gave everything a fogged, shadowy look, turning the world into a collage of blurs melting into one another. But the shapes approaching them were clear enough. Another of the creatures, and another. On the ground, they had been fast but awkward. Underwater, they moved with a deadly grace, tentacles cutting through the sea as they glided toward their prey. Luke glanced behind them; more of the creatures were swarming: There had to be at least ten of them, and in the distance, he spotted more on the way.

  They were surrounded.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "What'd I tell you?" Han said. "The answer to our prayers!"

  Chewbacca looked dubiously at the nest of aiwhas, then back at Han. He barked a question.

  "Easy," Han said confidently. "We just…ride them."

  Chewbacca barked again.

  "Well, I don't know how we're going to do it," Han said irritably. "But standing around whining about it isn't going to help." And it wasn't going to get Luke back. The aiwhas were their best shot, maybe their only shot. Han knew that the creatures had been tamed by the Kaminoans. Maybe since the city had been abandoned, they'd reverted to their wild origins, but any animal that had once allowed itself to be ridden would allow it again—assuming Han and Chewbacca could find a way to climb
up on their backs.

  Han looked up at the aiwha nest—way up.

  The huge birdlike lizards swooped in wide circles around the spired building. Their wingspread was more than twice Han's height. And the muscles rippling in their massive tails looked powerful enough to knock the top off a building.

  "Just like riding a bantha," Han said. "Not a problem."

  Chewbacca didn't look convinced.

  "We just need to find a way up there," Han mused.

  Chewbacca growled a sharp retort.

  "What do you mean you don't think that's our biggest problem?" Han asked. "What else do you—whoaaaaaa!" An aiwha, flying low, knocked him off his feet. "Not again," Han muttered, rubbing the new lump on his forehead. He looked up, watching the aiwha's tough underbelly as it circled through the air.

  Maybe another little sky ride was exactly what he needed. It would sure beat climbing up to the nest. Han shouted and waved, trying to lure the aiwha closer. It wheeled low, crying out, and soon others joined it, all circling toward Han.

  Now that they were closer, Han could see that only a couple of the creatures still had their harnesses. Han waited for his opening. Then with one last glance back at Chewbacca, Han reached up and clamped a hand around an aiwha's harness. It squawked in consternation, but Han held tightly as the ground dropped out beneath him. Now he was dangling in midair on the strength of the grip in his left hand.

  The aiwha's hide was too leathery to offer any kind of handhold, but if he could wedge his hand into the niche between the wing and the torso, it was just possible he could pull himself onto the creature's back. He strained to pull himself up the creature's body, but there was no way. The torso was too wide, and he had no leverage. He needed some momentum to give him an extra push.

  Han began swinging his legs through the air, sweeping them rhythmically back and forth until his body swayed like a pendulum beneath the aiwha. He still didn't have the arm span to reach the wing—not as long as he was holding on to the harness. But there was something else he could try.