by Troy Denning
“Obviously,” Han growled. “And—”
“Can we get on with the rescue?” Zekk interrupted. He retrieved the repeating blaster from the deck and passed it to Han, then glanced up the detention center wall. “After those detonators, they know we’re here.”
Han nodded, glared at C-3PO, then slipped the blaster’s strap over his shoulder and looked up in time to see Jaina and Leia disappearing through a still-smoking breach in the detention center wall. The fivemeter hole was perfectly round and clean, with sharp edges and a total lack of rubble—which was why thermal detonators were the favorite tool of demolition crews and urban assault squads alike. Han glanced down to check on Squad Saav’etu and saw an identical breach on the 1910 level, with Seff Hellin and Kunor Bann already inside the building and Natua Wan and Yaqeel Saav’etu just leaping off their hoverscaf into the hole. Like Jaina and Leia, their lightsabers remained unactivated—a sign that the detention center guards had not yet arrived to mount a defense.
By the time Han looked away, Zekk was already moving their own hoverscaf up toward the breach. As they rose, Han saw that the bowlshaped hole had actually exposed part of the level below their target level. Through the narrow gap, he could see down into a long corridor lined by sealed transparisteel doors. Standing behind most of the doors were beings dressed in fluorescent orange detainee uniforms. They appeared to be of many different species—there were a lot of Arcona, Askajians, and humans. Some looked shocked, others menacing. None appeared friendly.
The hoverscaf stopped in front of level 1913. Zekk quickly leapt across the two-and-a-half-meter gap into the building, landing in a corridor similar to the one below. Beyond him, Leia and Jaina were already racing toward a sealed security door, lightsabers in hand but not yet activated. Zekk spun around and used the Force to lift the droids into the passage, then turned to Han.
“You want a lift?”
Han eyed the distance to the edge of the corridor floor and silently thanked Zekk for making it sound like the offer was optional. He nodded. “You’d have made a great son-in-law, kid.”
“Too late,” Taryn called up. She was inside the Cygnus-7 now, preparing to take her new position as the escape-vehicle gunner. “Finders keepers.”
Zekk rolled his eyes, but smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Taryn,” he said. “After Relephon, I’m not changing anything.”
“What happened on Relephon?” Han asked.
Zekk’s swarthy complexion brightened to brilliant crimson. “Sorry.” He let the sentence trail off and looked away for a moment, then extended a hand toward Han. “State secret.”
Han’s stomach grew heavy as he suddenly floated into the air and started across the gap. He glanced back at Taryn, who was standing in the doorway of the Cygnus-7 strapping on a pair of big DL-51 blaster pistols, and thought better of pressing for details.
Zekk set him down, then pointed toward the end of the corridor, where Leia and Jaina were already using their lightsabers to cut through the durasteel security door. “The data socket is up there, Artoo. Let’s go.”
Zekk took the lead, ignoring the muted clamor of hammering fists and yelling prisoners that followed them down the corridor. Han brought up the rear, keeping watch as C-3PO and R2-D2 advanced ahead of him. As they moved, he set his blaster to FULL and started blasting cam bubbles. Each time he destroyed one, a muffled cheer rose from the inmates in nearby cells.
The prisoners seemed to be males of many different species. Their cells were more or less uniform, though there was often a roost or a nest instead of a bed. Occasionally, the air was tinged brown or green, suggesting a nonstandard atmosphere.
Han and the droids had almost reached the security door when a faint hissing sounded from the ventilation ducts. He pulled the breath mask off his equipment harness and slipped the elastic keeper straps over his head.
“Gas!” He pulled the mask down and opened the air feed, then activated his throat mike. “Squad Saav’etu, watch yourselves. We’ve got gas up here.”
“Down here, too,” Yaqeel replied. “They’re reacting quicker than we expected.”
“Affirmative,” Turi confirmed from Cygnus-7. “We’ve got three pursuit speeders coming our way.”
“Stang, that was fast,” Han said. “Can you outrun—”
“No need,” Taryn replied. The screech of a discharging ion cannon sounded from outside. “There are only three. I can hold them off!”
“For how long?” Han asked.
“Don’t worry,” Taryn said. “We’ll be here when you need a ride.”
The rumble of a distant explosion sounded outside.
“That’s fine, Taryn,” Leia broke in. “Just remember, we’re trying to keep deaths to a minimum.”
“It wasn’t me,” Taryn retorted, speaking over the squeal of her ion cannon. “One of those speeders fired a concussion missile.”
Leia cringed behind her breath mask, and Han knew what she was thinking. They were trying to avoid unnecessary casualties—and not only because they wanted to minimize bad press. The conflict between Daala and the Jedi was already out of hand; if it started to cause civilian casualties, it would be a stain on the honor of both sides.
“And?” Leia asked. She was stooped over, dragging her lightsaber blade through the last section of security door to meet Jaina’s. “Did they kill anyone?”
“Hard to say,” Taryn replied. “They took out a pedbridge.” The next screech was followed almost instantly by the roar of a nearby explosion. “And … that time they got a news sled.”
“A news sled?” Han’s chest tightened. “Not Doran and Bandy?”
“No, a real news sled.” It was Turi Altamik’s voice that said this. “Sort of real, anyway. It was ROKS.”
Han caught Leia’s eye and shrugged. “At least we’re not the ones killing people.”
Leia merely glanced up. “So?”
“Yeah.”
After all their years fighting side by side, Han knew by that one word what Leia meant—it didn’t matter who was doing the killing. The Jedi had started this fight, so they bore the ultimate responsibility if civilian lives were lost.
“Turi, you and Taryn better make a run for it,” Han said. “Maybe you can draw them off to someplace a little less populated.”
“And leave you guys behind?” Taryn objected. “Think again—”
“Taryn!” Zekk interrupted. “This is what backup plans are for.”
Even as Zekk spoke, the Cygnus-7 was roaring away, its nose dropping as it dived for the sheltering confines of the undercity. With any luck, Turi would be able to lose her pursuers in the murky labyrinth, then swing back around to pick them up when they had Valin and Jysella in hand. If not, there was always the HoloNews van that Doran Tainer and Bandy Geffer were operating.
A trio of armored wedges streaked past the breach in hot pursuit of the Cygnus-7, sirens shrieking and emergency strobes flashing, then vanished from sight. With the screeching of the ion cannon gone, the din in the corridor faded to the muted roar of prisoners thumping on their cell doors and bellowing for freedom. Given all of the threats and foul language Han heard, he wasn’t even half tempted to help them out.
The droning of the lightsabers finally snapped to an end, and Han turned to see Jaina using the Force to hold the security door upright. R2-D2 was already plugged into the data socket below the control panel on the wall, blinking and chirping merrily as he sliced into the facility’s main computer.
Han turned to C-3PO. “How long before Artoo finds a schematic for us?”
“Any moment, Captain. I believe—”
R2-D2 cut him off with a sharp whistle.
“That’s impossible, Artoo,” C-3PO retorted. “Your processor is no match for a supercooled Xyn Tachyon Twelve. Stop that at once!”
“Threepio!” Han interrupted. “How long until we have that schematic?”
“It should be on your datapads now,” C-3PO replied, turning to Han. “And Artoo is attempting to outwit X
yn and override the storage bunker’s security program. He’s going to give himself a circuit melt.”
R2-D2 tweedled sharply.
C-3PO looked back toward R2-D2. “Well, why didn’t you tell us?” he demanded. “Don’t you think they would want to know you already have the bunker open?”
“Open?”
Han snatched the datapad off Leia’s equipment belt. The display contained a three-dimensional schematic labeled DETENTION CENTER 81 LEVELS 1910–1915. The rescue team’s locations were not depicted, but with two red dots indicating the breaches in the outer wall, their position was pretty easy to estimate. It appeared that Squad Solo, at least, had reached a bulkhead about a quarter of the way across the building. On the other side of the wall was a huge, multi-level atrium ringed with access balconies serving the detention corridors on each level. In the center of the atrium stood the storage bunker to which C-3PO had referred, a large freestanding vault with hatches high on its walls. From the schematic, at least, there appeared to be no easy way of accessing the hatches.
Han showed the display to his companions, then activated his throat mike. “Squad Saav’etu, do you guys have the schematic on your datapad yet?”
“Affirmative,” came Yaqeel’s raspy-voiced reply. “We’re just inside the security door, waiting for the signal.”
“Artoo has the hatches on that vault open,” Han reported. “He thinks that’s where Valin and Jysella are being held.”
R2-D2 gave an affirmative chirp, then added a tweedle.
“Artoo notes that both Horns are indeed listed on the bunker inventory,” C-3PO reported. As he spoke, R2-D2 continued to tweedle. “He’s trying to deactivate the neutralizer field so he can use the tracking bugs to confirm their exact location. Unfortunately, Xyn is arguing about the proper protocols.”
“Keep trying,” Han said to R2-D2. “And while you’re at it, maybe Xyn can tell us if there are any guards on—”
“There are,” Jaina said. “About fifty, coming in from all sides.”
“Fifty … is that all? They must be trying to make this easy.” Han had been living with Jedi too long to bother asking how Jaina knew the number of guards or whether she was sure. He simply raised three fingers, then asked Yaqeel, “Ready, Squad Saav’etu?”
When Yaqeel responded with a comm click, Han lowered all three fingers.
“Go!”
Jaina waved her hand to the side, and the human-sized rectangle she and Leia had cut from the security door popped free and went tumbling down the length of the balcony. A chorus of startled voices cried out in alarm, then the dull thung of durasteel on plastoid rang out from around the corner. In the next instant, the open doorway erupted into a storm of flashing bolts, and the lightsabers of both Solo women snapped to life.
“Going right, Mom!” Jaina called.
“Going left!” Leia confirmed.
They stepped through the door together, their blades weaving baskets of color as they batted blaster bolts back toward their sources. Zekk went next, moving forward to deflect fire from two squads of guards positioned high above in the corners on the opposite side of the atrium.
“Han, grenades!” Zekk called back through the door. “Three-second fuses.”
Han let his repeating blaster dangle by its sling and pulled a stun grenade off his equipment vest. He quickly set the timer, then tried not to shake as he moved into throwing position on the other side of the door. Surrounded as he was by three very experienced Jedi Knights, he knew there wasn’t much chance of a bolt getting through—but there were dozens of bolts coming their way every second, and not even Leia was perfect. Seeing that Zekk was taking fire from two different directions, Han positioned himself a little to the side and tossed the first grenade over the rail.
“Zekk, yours!”
Zekk switched to a single-handed grip and pivoted sideways, allowing half a dozen bolts to slip past his twirling blade as he pointed at the grenade. He flicked his finger toward the opposite side of the atrium, and the grenade flew into the corner on the right and exploded with a detonation as blinding as it was deafening. The guards went down at once, most of them completely unconscious, but a few covering their ears or eyes and rolling around in agony.
Han already had the next grenade ready. Since he was facing Jaina’s side of the balcony, he called her name and tossed it over her shoulder. She did not even need to switch to a single-handed grip. She simply fixed her gaze on the wall of guards lined up across the balcony in front of her, and the stun grenade flew toward them as though launched by a rocket. The sergeant saw it coming and managed to raise a hand to point before it detonated in the midst of his squad, leaving them motionless and piled atop one another.
Han turned and tossed the third grenade past Leia’s flank. She allowed it to hit the deck grating, then sent it bouncing down the balcony toward a squad of guards who—having the benefit of seeing what had become of their fellows—wisely gave up the fight and simply turned to flee. The detonation caught half of them anyway. Some continued to flee, stumbling down the balcony with their hands pressed to their ears, and some dropped in their tracks and began to writhe about on the deck grating. Those who had been lucky enough to escape unscathed simply continued to run.
Han started to reach for another stun grenade, but Zekk said, “Save it. We’ve convinced them.”
Han looked up to see the last group of guards withdrawing from view. He was about to check the status of Squad Saav’etu when he heard a sporadic clatter in the atrium. Being careful not to invite sniper fire by leaning over the rail, he peered out and saw a steady shower of blaster rifles dropping to the atrium floor. Jaina and Leia quickly began to add to the rain of weaponry, using the Force to hurl every GAS weapon in sight over the safety rail.
“Looks like we’re good to go,” Han observed. He glanced at the hatches hanging open on the side of the storage bunker. They were a good twenty meters away, and between ten and twenty meters above the atrium floor. “Question is, how do we get there? That’s a big jump—even for a Jedi.”
No sooner had Han asked the question than a happy tweedle sounded in the corridor behind them. A moment later, a panel beneath one of the hatches slid open. It was followed by another one on Squad Saav’etu’s level, and a pair of long catwalk bridges began to extend toward each access balcony.
“Artoo wonders if the bridges might help?” C-3PO translated.
“Yeah, good thinking,” Han said. He poked his head back into the cell corridor and looked down at R2-D2. “Think you can lock down access to the atrium around the bunker?”
R2-D2 replied with a long series of tweets and chirps.
“Artoo has convinced Xyn that you are rioting inmates attempting to take control of the detention center,” C-3PO translated. “The entire cellblock has been isolated. And the signal neutralizer has been deactivated to prevent you from using the storage bunker to evade surveillance. But I must say, I don’t think isolating the cellblock is a very good idea, Captain Solo. Now we’re locked inside with dozens of angry guards—and I’m quite certain that a few of them remain conscious.”
As C-3PO spoke, a flurry of blasterfire erupted from below, down in the atrium. Han spun around in time to see Yaqeel Saav’etu’s furryheaded form somersaulting through the air toward the still-extending catwalk, her amber lightsaber tracing a yellow cocoon around her as she deflected incoming blaster bolts. The sniper fire was answered by a volley of stun bolts from her companions, and by the time she landed the GAS guards had fallen silent. Jaina went next, her feet barely touching the safety rail as she bounded off it and Force-jumped onto the upper catwalk.
“You might have that backward, Threepio,” Han said, turning back to the droid. “It’s those poor noobs who are stuck in here …”
Han let the sentence trail off as the squeal of scraping metal rang out from the far end of corridor, sixty meters distant. He looked up and, through the hole by which the team had entered the building, saw one end of the hoverscaf t
ipping upward. A second later the blunt round nose of a GAS troopsled slid into view.
Han activated his throat mike. “Trouble!” He pulled a thermal detonator off his vest. “We’ve got armor out—”
The muted shriek-crack of cannon bolts began to reverberate up from below, and the air grew acrid with the fumes of molten metal. Han set the detonator fuse to three seconds and, with his free hand, reached into the corridor.
“Out of the way!” He grabbed C-3PO by the wrist and pulled him out of the corridor. “Run for it!”
“Run? I’m afraid my servomotors aren’t made for—”
C-3PO’s foot caught on the bottom edge of the doorway, and his objection came to a crashing end. At the other end of the corridor, the troopsled had shoved the hoverscaf completely out of the way, bringing the forward canopy and the driver’s hatch into view. A couple of meters above the hatch hung the tip of a blaster cannon, already turning toward the corridor. Han planted a foot in the middle of C-3PO’s back and squared off in front of the doorway.
“You, too, Artoo!” Han used a full-windup underhand pitch to sling the detonator down the corridor and, with his free hand, waved the little astromech toward him. “Let’s go!”
R2-D2 retracted his interface arm and whirred toward Han. In the corridor behind the droid, the detonator dropped twenty meters short—and continued to bounce toward the troopsled.
The front edge of the cannon turret came into view, and the barrel continued to swing toward Han. Unsure whether he was actually strong enough to lift an astromech droid over the lip in the doorway, Han stooped down to grab R2-D2.
“Hey!” he called over his shoulder. “How about a little—”
The corridor erupted into a screaming flash of heat.
An instant later Han found himself rolling off C-3PO onto the balcony’s deck grating. His ears were ringing and his eyes were filled with dancing spots, and his arms were empty.
A white glow flared inside the corridor, and Han heard a distant crackle that had to be the thermal detonator going off. He rolled to his knees and spun around to see Zekk pressed to the wall on the opposite side of the doorway. C-3PO was between them, pushing himself to his hands and knees, and R2-D2 was nowhere to be seen.