Star Wars - Rebel Force 05 - Hostage

by Alex Wheeler

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  There were no Imperial guards posted outside the deserted medcenter, but the place had a sinister feel. Maybe it was the boarded up windows, or the sentry droids hovering at the perimeter, but Han was certain this was the place.

  You only needed to look at Var Lyonn to know he'd told the truth. He stood at the lone entrance of the medcenter, legs trembling, sweat bleeding through his shirt. He banged on the door again. "Let me in!" he shouted in a high, quivering voice.

  "Stop shaking!" Han hissed from his hiding place in the bushes. "If they suspect you've betrayed them, they'll kill you."

  "Is that supposed to make him feel better?" Luke asked.

  Fess shushed them both.

  With the addition of Elad, there were five of them. Although Luke was still hit-or-miss with a blaster, and the old man was…well, an old man. Then there were the droids, who Han refused to count at all. If Lyonn could get them inside, it just might be enough—or not. They had no idea how many Imperials they were facing, or where Leia was being held. More time might have allowed them to make a better plan.

  But who knew how much time Leia had left?

  The door slid open. Two stormtroopers stood in the entrance.

  "Just a few more steps, fellas," Han muttered, waiting impatiently for a clear shot. Lyonn was supposed to get the guards to step out of the building. Han and Luke would take them down, then don their armor. Dressed as stormtroopers, they'd infiltrate the facility, find the princess, and get her out. It was a crazy plan—but it had worked before.

  Mostly.

  "I need to see your lieutenant," Lyonn said loudly. Then he leaned toward the stormtroopers, saying something Han was too far away to hear.

  "Blast it!" Han swore. "I knew this would happen."

  "What?" Luke asked, just as one of the stormtroopers raised his comlink. The other raised a blaster, taking aim for the bushes.

  "Go!" Han shouted. They scattered. A barrage of laserbolts slammed into the foliage, sending billowing plumes of dirt into the air. Han darted through the cloud, firing at one of the stormtroopers. He went down.

  "Watch out!" Luke shouted, knocking Han out of the way just in time to avoid another laserbolt which whizzed past.

  Chewbacca roared, charging the door with his Ryk blade held high. The stormtrooper fired wildly, sending a blast straight into Var Lyonn, who shrieked and dropped to the ground. Before the stormtrooper could reload, Chewbacca had grabbed his blaster and twisted it out of his hands—then he set to work twisting the stormtrooper.

  "Oh dear, Artoo, where do you think you're going?" C-3PO cried from his hiding spot. But the little astromech droid ignored him, rolling steadily toward the door. He positioned himself in its path, just as it was sliding shut.

  C-3PO dodged the laserbolts flying all around him to join his stubborn counterpart. "You simply must get out of there," he insisted. "You're a droid, not a doorstop."

  R2-D2 beeped indignantly.

  "Why I'm most certainly doing something to help," C-3PO protested. "I'm offering my opinion on how things should proceed." He turned toward the battle, shaking his golden arms in the air. "Uh, I suggest you shoot at that stormtrooper, Captain Solo. Oh, dear, Master Luke, you might want to get out of the way!"

  "Stop wasting my time and let's go find the princess!" Han shouted, knocking out the last stormtrooper. The melted, carbon-scored plasteel armor would be no use as a disguise now. But that likely didn't matter, since the stormtroopers had called for reinforcements. They'd lost the element of surprise.

  He vaulted over R2-D2 and sailed through the open door. "Good job, little guy," he called back to the droid, as the others hurtled through the opening.

  "Why, thank you, sir," C-3PO answered for both of them. "We live to serve."

  "Find the nearest computer terminal," Han ordered the droids. "See if you can get some information for us." But he didn't have much hope. If the Imperials were just using this as a temporary base, there was little chance they'd upload the location of their prisoner into the computer system. Still, he'd try anything. He could already hear the drumbeat of armored boots thudding down the hail, straight for them. Things were about to get very dangerous, very fast.

  They strapped her to a flat slab of durasteel. Leia didn't struggle—she didn't want to waste her strength. She suspected she would need everything she had for what was to come.

  She had been tortured before, and survived.

  Even if there were moments when, torn apart by the pain, she'd wished that she hadn't.

  Stun cuffs pinned her wrists and ankles to the durasteel. The stormtroopers snapped another set of binders across her chest, her waist, and her neck. She was completely immobilized.

  No fear, she reminded herself.

  Whatever they did to her, she would never betray the Rebel Alliance. Never.

  Once she was immobilized, the stormtroopers marched out, their feet pounding the floor in unison. She was left in a silence broken only by her ragged breathing.

  Then, footsteps. A Pau'an, with a gaunt, gray face, clawed hands, and a long black robe. He smiled. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess Leia."

  She spit in his face.

  The Pau'an jerked away, swiping the gob of saliva away with the back of his hand. She allowed herself a small moment of satisfaction.

  "You'll tell me what I want to know, Princess," the Pau'an said in a pinched voice.

  "I'm surprised to see a Pau'an working for the Emperor," Leia replied calmly, as if they were having a polite chat. "Given that he's turned your world into a planet of Imperial slaves."

  "Not slaves, Your Highness," the alien hissed. "Willing servants of our Imperial masters. True, the Emperor prefers to fill out his ranks with human officers…but some of you humans tend to get rather squeamish about torture. Whereas I'll do anything to get the information I desire. And, just between you and me—I'll enjoy it."

  The binder restraining her neck was tight enough that she couldn't turn her head. So she closed her eyes. Rough thumbs pressed against her lids, dragging them open. "Look at me," he ordered.

  As if she had a choice.

  "First: The name of the pilot who destroyed the Death Star. Next: Everything you know about the Rebel Alliance. Everything."

  "I'm not telling you anything, scum," Leia spit out. "Do whatever you want. You can't make me talk."

  "Incorrect." The Pau'an pulled a thick black handle out of his cloak. A thin strand of wire dangled from one end; he brushed it across her face. "Have you ever seen a neuronic whip, Princess? With the press of a switch, a high voltage charge of electricity will shoot through this wire—and into anything it touches."

  He glided the whip across her cheekbone…down her jawline…his finger straying toward the activation switch. Leia tried not to flinch. "One lash is enough to cause debilitating pain, neurological overload. Repeated lashings usually result in permanent brain damage. Very useful on my planet for keeping the slaves in line."

  "I thought you said they were willing servants," Leia said through gritted teeth.

  "At a certain point, one is willing to do anything to make the pain stop," he said coldly. "Do you know much about pain, Princess?"

  More than you can imagine, you Imperial slime.

  He bared his teeth, and moved the whip beyond her field of vision. A moment later, she felt the cold wire brush her neck. "So many kinds of pain." He traced invisible designs in her skin. "Infinite variations." She forced herself not to shiver as the wire ran across her forehead, her temple, over her lips, along her chin. If he activated the charge…

  "How much pain can you handle?" he asked. "How much before you break?"

  "I'll never break," she snapped. No fear, she told herself again. It should have helped, the knowledge that she'd been tortured before and knew what was coming. She'd carved out a dark, quiet space for herself in the corner of her mind, and curled up until the pain disappeared. But even when the pain had gone, it hadn't been easy to
find her way out again. If she had to retreat into the shadows once again, would she ever find her way back?

  Still: "Do what you want," she said coldly. "You'll get nothing from me."

  "I know," he said abruptly, dropping the whip. It clattered to the floor. "You'll break," he said. "Everyone breaks. Even the strongest have their limits. It's only a matter of how much. Pain will destroy you—either your body, or your mind. I could hurt you, Princess." He leaned over her face, his breath misting her forehead. "I could hurt you quite efficiently."

  He let out a hissing sigh of irritation. "But I've seen your file. You'd die before you talked—or the pain would drive you to madness, trapping you inside your head forever. You'd be of no use to us then. Fortunately, I've been provided with a third option."

  Once again, he held something over her face for her to see. An injector. "One dose of this, and you'll tell me anything I want to know," he boasted. "It bores holes in your brain, burrowing straight through all those troublesome little walls you've erected around the truth. No more secrets, Princess. Not from me, and not from the Empire."

  Now Leia knew that she hadn't been afraid before, really.

  Because this was fear. Ice pulsing through her veins. Not for herself, not for her own life—but for the Alliance. If the Empire could get inside her brain, they could learn anything.

  Names. Bases. Access codes.

  All her friends would be in danger, their hopes destroyed.

  All because of her. Again.

  "Look on the bright side," he said, smirking down at her. "The serum is in the experimental stage—we're still refining the formula."

  So maybe it won't work, Leia thought desperately.

  "Oh, it gets the job done," the Pau'an said pleasantly. "But only one of our test subjects has survived. She's doing a lot better these days—at least according to the poor sap we pay to mop up her drool. I'm told soon she might even be allowed to feed herself again, if they can teach her to stop stabbing herself in the face with the fork." He shrugged. "Either way, once we're done here, I doubt you'll be in any position to feel guilty about the secrets you've revealed."

  Leia felt herself beginning to crumble. She'd always believed she could fight anything.

  But what if she couldn't fight this?

  I'm sorry, she said silently, to all the men and women she'd promised to protect. To the survivors on Delaya. To the Rebel Alliance. To Luke, to Han. To her father.

  To Alderaan.

  "Ready?" The Pau'an drew the injector and pressed it to the back of her neck.

  But before he could inject her, an alarm ripped through the silence.

  His comlink blared. "Intruders!" the tinny voice announced. "Institute emergency protocol!"

  The man scowled, laying the injector next to Leia's body. "I'll be back, Your Highness."

  "Back from the dead?" Leia snarled, drawing strength from the blaring alarm. Someone had come for her. She wasn't the kind of woman who liked to be rescued.

  But it was far better than the alternative.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Ferus dodged a laserblast and threw himself across the hall, slamming into the stormtrooper. He jerked his blaster over his head, smashing it into the trooper's plastoid face plate. With the help of the Force, the blow sent the stormtrooper reeling. Ferus waited for a clear shot, then fired.

  His Jedi training gave him an advantage over the enemy. His senses were honed, his motions carefully chosen and lightning quick. As he battled through the crush of stormtroopers, time slowed for him. The Force alerted him when the enemy was set to strike. He darted out of the way an instant before the laserfire could hit its mark, and fought with an acrobatic grace.

  Still, he was clumsy with a blaster. With his lightsaber, he could likely have taken out the stormtroopers all on his own. What was the point of keeping his identity a secret if it got them all killed?

  Luke wasn't using his lightsaber either, Ferus noted. The boy was good with a blaster, but his hand kept straying to the lightsaber's hilt, as if he were resisting the temptation to activate it.

  He's afraid of failure, Ferus thought. He's afraid to try.

  They battled their way down a long hallway, leaving a trail of armored bodies behind them. Ahead of them, the hall branched off in two directions. More stormtroopers approached from behind.

  "Chewie, you search that hall, Luke and I'll take this one," Han shouted, signaling for Elad and Ferus to cover them as they rounded the corner.

  Two was almost more effective than five in the narrow hallway. Elad seemed to anticipate Ferus's motions, ducking and weaving out of the way, his shots perfectly timed with Ferus's. He fights like a Jedi, Ferus thought.

  The stormtroopers surged forward, their boots pounding the ground in lockstep. The air blazed with laserfire. "This isn't working," Elad shouted over the noise. "We need to push back."

  Ferus got his meaning. The stormtroopers were advancing toward the end of the hallway—any further, and they'd be able to turn the corner and take off after Han and Luke. He and Elad would have to force them back down to the other end of the hall, and hold them there as long as possible.

  Ferus knew he could pull out his lightsaber and dispatch the guards within minutes. But if there was any other way…

  "In there!" Ferus said suddenly, jerked his head toward one of the open doors along the corridor.

  "Run and hide?" Elad asked in disgust, dodging another blast. The hallways was filling up with a smoke so thick they could barely see the enemy.

  "Neither," Ferus shot back. He pointed at the large cart just inside the storage closet, piled with medical equipment. Elad glanced over, eyebrows raised. Then he nodded, and darted inside. The stormtroopers fell back as Ferus peppered the hallway with laserfire. He drew on the Force to guide his aim, and the stormtroopers dropped, one by one. But there were still too many of them.

  "Ready?" Elad said, pulling the cart out of the closet.

  Ferus climbed on top, shifting his balance as Elad began to push. The cart gained momentum, plowing toward the stormtroopers.

  They couldn't hit a moving target. Especially one towering several feet over their heads, speeding down the hallway right for them. Ferus bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to maintain his balance as the cart hurtled down the hallway, straight into the ranks of the enemy. The high vantage point gave him a perfect shot. Blast after blast hit its mark, until the corridor was littered with armored bodies. Shielded by the cart, Elad took down his fair share of stormtroopers, blasting with one hand as he pushed Ferus down the hall. He seemed to be shooting blindly, and yet nearly every blast made contact.

  Soon only three stormtroopers were still standing. "Retreat!" one of them ordered. In unison, they darted to the edges of the corridor, sheltering themselves behind a series of open doors. Every few seconds, one would peek out just long enough to spray the hall with laserfire then duck back to safety.

  Ferus hopped off the cart, feeling a surge of relief. Two against twenty had been daunting odds. Two against three? Even a Padawan could handle that.

  But the thought of Padawans made him think of Luke and Leia, and he remembered they were still no closer to rescuing the princess than they'd been before. The relief vanished.

  "Cover me," Elad suddenly shouted, dropping to the floor over the body of a fallen stormtrooper. Ferus stood over him, blasting away at the stormtroopers who were left.

  Elad ripped off the stormtrooper's armor and dug his fingers into the man's shoulder. He shrieked with pain.

  It was a hand-to-hand combat tactic Ferus had never tried: a precise compression of the parascapular nerve that caused unbearable pain. The rare maneuver had been perfected centuries before, but Ferus had seen it performed only once, by an Imperial officer trying to torture information out of a spice smuggler. The officer's expression had been no more single-mindedly brutal than Tobin Elad's.

  This is different, Ferus told himself, trying to block out the stormtrooper's agonized cries
. Our cause is just. We have no choice.

  But another, fainter voice drifted through his troubled mind, resonating with Jedi-like assurance. There is always a choice.

  "Where is the prisoner?" Elad asked. The stormtrooper just screamed. Ferus winced as the man's pain rippled through the Force. Elad just pressed harder. "Where is she?"

  "Hallway on the right," the stormtrooper moaned. "Third door down."

  "That better be the truth," Elad warned him. "Because if she's not there, I'm coming back for you. My friend here is going to leave you alive for me."

  "It's true!" the stormtrooper screamed, writhing in pain. "I swear!"

  "Enough!" Ferus shouted. "I'll hold them off—you go find Leia. Go!"

  Elad didn't hesitate. He took off down the hallway. Ferus activated his lightsaber, and advanced toward the remaining stormtroopers. When they saw he'd dropped the blaster, they abandoned their hiding places and rushed him. Time slowed to a crawl. He struck out with the lightsaber, once, twice, thrusting its glowing blade into the nearest stormtrooper. He somersaulted through the air, dodging the man's fallen body, and deflected a blast of laserfire. The blue beam swooped and swirled, carving elaborate arcs through the air.

  A Jedi never craves violence, never enjoys it.

  But Ferus's lightsaber had sat hidden and unused for a long time. Wielding it again, finally taking action instead of just sitting around and endlessly watching, waiting…it felt like coming home.

  X-7 raced down the hall, pausing to look back just before he turned the corner. Out of curiosity, not concern. Was the fool already dead?

  Two bodies lay on the floor, both of them stormtroopers. And between the two still on their feet, was Fess. But a different Fess than X-7 had seen before. He was leaping nimbly away from the blaster shots, with a dancer's liquid grace. He moved so fast that he almost seemed to be in two or three places at once.

  But that wasn't the strangest thing.

  The strangest thing was the glowing blue blade slashing through the air, deflecting laserbolts, spiraling toward the stormtroopers and effortlessly slicing through their armor.