Honor Among Thieves: Star Wars (Empire and Rebellion) (23 page)

“That shirtless little gentleman was a bit annoying,” Baasen said, poking his blaster at the corpse on the floor.

“So you
shot
him?” Han asked. “Now we'll never know where that data is. You've lost your mind, Baasen, and I—”

“We'll know where it is because
I
know where it is,” Baasen said, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

Scarlet nodded at him. “Okay.” Her blaster was in her hand and she drifted away from Han, the three of them turning into a triangle where every angle was a weapon.

Baasen smiled and slipped the stump of his shortened arm into the handle of the carrying case. He lifted it until it slid down to his elbow and hung there, swaying. “So, let's go on back to your ship now, eh? We have what we came for.”

“Or maybe I leave you here with Maas,” Han said. “And we just take what we need.”

Scarlet said nothing but kept drifting to Baasen's left. “You'll want to stop there,” the Mirialan bounty hunter said to her. “Makes me nervous you trying to get to my blind side. It's a sad world when there's no trust.”

“So what now?” Scarlet asked. Han wasn't sure if she was talking to him or to Baasen.

“I think we—” Han started, but his next words were drowned out by a rising high-pitched wail that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“Out of time, boyo,” Baasen yelled at him. “We should have the rest of this conversation elsewhere.”

The planetary defense alarms had sounded. The Star Destroyers were in orbit. The Empire didn't need the data Maas had stolen; they just needed to make sure no one else had it. They wouldn't bother landing troops, they'd just bomb the planet to dust and make sure nothing lived to interfere with their plans.

“To the
Falcon,
” Han said to Baasen. The bounty hunter nodded and smiled. He tapped his comlink, trying to reach Leia, but the connection didn't go through. The relays were already down.

Scarlet darted out the door and waved an impatient hand for them to follow. Baasen started toward her, then stopped and turned to look at the R3 and the rat-bird.

“You two can come along if you like,” he said.

The rat-bird hopped down off the droid's head and flapped over to sit next to its dead master. The droid burbled to itself for a second, then lowered its wheels and followed after the bounty hunter. When they left the room, Han looked back and saw that the rat-bird was gnawing on Hunter Maas's leg. No loyalty among thieves.

The defense alert still sounded, nearly deafening, but a new noise was starting to eclipse it. A distant, heavy booming, like thunder.

The orbital bombardment had begun.

People were streaming into the corridor from the occupied rooms, shouting into comlinks and carrying hastily packed luggage. Han saw a diminutive Ugnaught trip over its own bags and fall to the ground, where a passing human stepped on it.

Han gripped Scarlet and Baasen by the back of their shirts so he didn't lose them in the crush of bodies, and dragged them toward the main assembly hall. He could see that the street outside was quickly becoming packed with ground transport and fleeing people. By cutting through the gardens and then the conference halls, he could get to the spaceport without fighting the traffic.

Scarlet seemed to understand and agree. As soon as she realized where he was leading her, she took point, grabbing his hand in her own and pushing her way through the crowd. Baasen stumbled along behind, content to let them lead.

A burly alien with gray-green skin and tusks the size of daggers ran into them and howled in anger, but before Han could even apologize the air around them compressed in a massive blast wave and knocked down everyone in the corridor. The shock was followed by the loudest noise Han had ever heard. The stone walls all around cracked like overstressed glass, and he felt sure his teeth would vibrate apart in his jaw.

When it was over, he pulled Scarlet and Baasen back to their feet and yelled, “Keep moving!” He could barely hear himself. There was just a high-pitched whine that seemed to be bouncing around inside his skull.

“Keep up or you'll get left behind, Red,” Baasen shouted at the little R3. Its stable three-legged design had kept it on its feet during the blast, but it was having difficulty pushing its way through the crowd.

“Forget it,” Han yelled.

Baasen followed him, a grin on his face but his skin flushed a deeper green with fear. “That last one was close, eh?” he said, trying to make the words light.

As if in answer, another ripple of blasts echoed through the corridor, though they sounded farther off. Scarlet finally reached the side door to the hotel and burst through into the conference center's garden space.

All three of them looked up. Even something as massive as a Star Destroyer was too small to be seen clearly in orbit, but the ships could be spotted as the origin points of the massive laser and plasma blasts that were streaking out of the sky and pounding the planet. A barrage of fire hit the mountain next to the conference center a dozen times, blowing starship-sized chunks of rock off the mountainside and raining them down on the buildings below.

“They appear to be upset, poor lambs,” Baasen said. Even he seemed stunned by the level of violence the Empire was raining down on them. A few mountaintop batteries fired up into the air, golden plasma fire leaving trails of black smoke behind them as they rose.

“Through here,” Scarlet said, and tugged Han after her into a side entrance in the conference center. Baasen tagged along, still staring up at the sky with a dazed look.

Han recognized the massive meeting room where Leia had delivered her big speech. It was crowded with fleeing conference members who'd all had the same idea he'd had to stay off the street. He hoped Leia was already off the planet.

As they rushed through the room and down the long corridors that led to the docks, the ground shook, blast after blast falling from the sky. The air in the city stank of smoke and dust. Over the top of the defense alarm and the shriek and rumble of bombardment came new sounds: the throb of starship engines and the scream of supersonic flight.

“Everybody's leaving,” Han said.

“Good,” Scarlet replied, and pulled him down a side corridor he didn't recognize. “Underground shortcut to the docks.”

They'd gone a few hundred meters through the new hallway when they reached a massive metal shield door, closed and locked.

“Good shortcut,” Han said, and started looking for another path. “Were you planning for this?”

“Just watch my back,” Scarlet replied, and pulled out her compact cutting torch.

Baasen turned to face the corridor behind them and drew his blaster. He held Maas's case close to his chest with the stump of his wrist. “No reason to shoot anyone,” Han said, pushing the man's arm down. “Everyone left is just trying to get away like we are. Unless you can shoot down a Star Destroyer with that thing.”

“Almost there,” Scarlet said over her shoulder, her face framed by the bright blue glow of the torch.

“Might want to—” Han started, and then time seemed to skip. He found himself lying on his back in the corridor, grit and small bits of stone covering him. The hallway was filled with a cloud of dust that stung his eyes when he opened them. He coughed uncontrollably for a few seconds, though he could barely hear himself over the renewed ringing in his ears.

“They're getting closer,” Baasen yelled at him, sounding like a very small voice a long way off. The Mirialan was climbing to his feet, brushing off the rubble that covered him. Scarlet was on her knees by the door, patting the floor to find her cutting torch.

“Almost there,” she repeated, her voice shaky but loud. She picked up the torch and resumed her work.

Something shadowy moved toward them in the dusty corridor. Han reached for his blaster and came up empty. There was nothing in his holster. He frantically searched the floor for his weapon. By the time he found it, Baasen was saying, “Well, I'll be damned. Red made it.”

The little R3 rolled to a stop a few feet away and trilled out a series of notes at them.

“Great,” Han said. “Now everything's just fine.”

“These things are handy,” Baasen said reproachfully. Then to the droid he said, “Help get this door open.”

The droid rolled up next to Scarlet, and soon there were two bright blue points of light cutting through the locks.

“See?”

“I stand corrected,” Han said.

A few moments later the door pinged with a metallic snapping sound. Han and Baasen grabbed it and pulled it open. On the other side was a long access corridor for the conference center's infrastructure. Conduits of heavy cabling, ducting, environmental systems, and piping covered the walls.

Another barrage shook the hallway, raining down dust from above. A pipe buckled in the corridor ahead, and steam began pouring into the space.

“Time to go,” Scarlet said, and trotted off down the hallway.

Han followed, still wondering where Leia was. Surely she'd been in one of the first ships out. They'd given her enough warning. If something had gone wrong, if she was somewhere in bombardment . . . Han tried to imagine explaining to the Rebel Alliance that he'd left her behind, that she'd died on Kiamurr. Or worse, explaining it to Luke. Or facing himself in the morning, knowing he could have tried but hadn't. He suppressed a shudder and kept running.

“Scarlet!” he shouted. “Leia's already gone, right? She's left the planet.”

“I hope not,” Scarlet called back over her shoulder.

“What do you mean you hope not? Why do you hope not?”

Scarlet ran and he followed. The service corridor ended at a long flight of steps up, and a door out onto the flight tarmac. Outside they could see the steady stream of ships launching from the docks, desperately trying to get off the doomed planet. As they emerged from the stairwell, a heavy transport lifted slowly off the field, just starting to get some speed. A turbolaser blast nearly cut the ponderous ship in half. It twisted sideways, trailing black smoke from the mortal wound in its side, its engines rising in a dying scream as the ship crashed back down and exploded into a rain of shrapnel.

“Gods be with us,” Baasen said, face paling almost to yellow as he watched the ship die.

Han took off at a dead run toward the
Millennium Falcon
's dock. Scarlet kept close beside him, huffing and puffing. Baasen coughed and lumbered, staring up at the sky, gape-mouthed at the destruction falling from on high, the R3 droid trailing along and burbling to itself in distress.

Han reached the door to the dock and slammed through it. The
Falcon
sat in her berth, untouched by the incoming fire. Han thought again of mystical energy fields and said a quiet thank-you to whoever or whatever might be looking out for them.

At the bottom of the crew ramp, Leia was strapping a belt around her waist, a heavy blaster hanging on her hip. She'd changed out of her diplomatic gown into brown pants and a white shirt.

“Oh, good,” she said. “Now I don't have to go looking for you.”

“Looking for us?” Han said. “Listen here, Princess. I got the data, escaped the attack, and got Scarlet back to the ship just fine.”

“Awww,” Scarlet said, “you're my hero. We should leave now.”

Another blast rocked the building, and the metal girders of the dock creaked with the shock.

“Yeah,” Han said. “That's a really good idea.”

Scarlet ran up the ramp, with Baasen and his droid close behind. When they were gone, Leia put her hand on Han's arm and said, “Thank you.”

Han looked for the mockery in it, and didn't find any. “You're welcome. Now let's all get off this planet while there still is one.”

He ran inside the ship, straight into a Wookiee hug. Chewbacca growled at him reproachfully.

“Missed you, too, buddy. Let's get her off the ground.”

Chewbacca already had the ship warmed up and ready. It was a matter of seconds before they were strapped in and climbing through the burning air.

“Put all power to the forward deflectors until we get out of the atmosphere,” Han said. “Then angle the rear deflectors until we make the jump.”

Chewbacca howled at him.

“Why don't we have rear deflectors? I told you to fix that!”

The Wookiee growled back.

“Yes, I know there was time pressure. But you have to—”

Chewbacca barked at him once.

“Okay, okay, buddy. I hear you. Except now we have to fly through an Imperial blockade while somehow not getting shot in the backside.”

Leia, sitting in the chair behind him, leaned forward and said, “What? No rear deflectors? You really should have fixed that.”

“See?” Han said to Chewbacca. The Wookiee remained obstinately silent.

“What can we do to help?” Baasen asked. He and Sunnim were holding on to the hatchway into the cockpit.

“Well,” Han said, angling the
Falcon
's flight path up through a gap in the bombardment, “I can keep us away from the heavies, mostly. They're more interested in blowing Kiamurr into dust. But once we get out of the atmosphere, TIE fighters are going to be swarming all the ships that're leaving.”

“Sounds right,” Baasen said. “Nice to have lots of company for that. One ship of many, so to speak.”

“Right. So I just need you guys to keep the TIEs off us long enough to make the jump. Keep them from getting a clean shot on our hindquarters.”

“The
Falcon
's got those turrets,” Baasen said.

“Right again. You boys know how to use them?”

“Believe we can work it out,” Baasen said with a grin.

“Great, then get in there. The plan is—”

“Kill everything?” Sunnim said.

“Got it in one.”

Twenty-Two