Page 17 of Razor's Edge


  Leia checked her chrono again, though she was well aware she had just looked at it while saying good-bye to Anakaret. There’s no time for nerves, Organa, she reminded herself. They had a couple of hours until Anakaret had said her ship would be ready to depart. It was enough time to finish getting the seismic charge ready to move safely and also to get some food and a little sleep. She looked at Metara, to give the woman her due as captain of the Aegis. “Are you in agreement?”

  Studying the map, Metara didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I think it’s our best chance.” She gave Leia a thoughtful look. “And our only real option.”

  “Good,” Leia said. I just hope you mean that.

  Han was too jumpy to grab any sleep, but he managed time to clean up and eat. Then, after checking that Terae and Sian had the handlights, grapplers, and weapons sorted out for the Aegis crew who would be coming with them, he went to pick out the other equipment they would need.

  Sian was going with Leia’s group, which Han was glad of because it gave the Princess at least one person to watch her back who wasn’t under Metara’s thumb. The downside was that, in addition to two other Aegis crew members, Terae was going with Han, and he was also saddled with Itran. It made sense to have Terae along, since she knew the way and had explored the maintenance tunnel a little, but Han would have preferred to do this without Itran, whom he didn’t trust and who obviously didn’t trust him. He would actually have preferred to do this alone but had to admit, as they had already discussed, that just wasn’t practical.

  Then Itran cornered Han in the Aegis’s engineering tool storage area as Han was collecting the fusioncutters and other equipment they would need. “You sure we should take Terae and the others? If they wanted to turn us over to the pirates, this would be a perfect opportunity.”

  Han wanted to punch him just from exasperation. Of course it would be a perfect opportunity, if Metara had decided she would rather be a pirate after all. They had no guarantee she wouldn’t, and no guarantee that even if the plan went perfectly and they all got out of here, Metara would let them and the merchants go as promised. But there wasn’t any other way off this rock except to cooperate. So Han just said, “Why, are you trying to get me alone? Sorry, I don’t like you that way.”

  Itran’s expression flickered from blankly startled to confused. Han relented, mostly because the confusion cast some doubt over just how quick on the uptake Itran was. “There’s a chance they could turn on us, but if we have to split up, we need the others to help lead the prisoners out.”

  Itran’s expression cleared, and he just said darkly, “I hope we don’t regret it.”

  Han shook his head incredulously at Itran’s retreating back. No kidding. He wished again that Chewie were here. Having a partner to do this with whom he trusted completely would be a relief, but it would be a bonus just to have someone along who got his sense of humor.

  They got out through the ore-cart hatch carefully, one at a time, moving quietly down the droid track away from the bay doors and the bored guards. It went as well as possible, but Han’s nerves were still on edge. The seismic charge was bulky and a little tricky to handle, but one of the Aegis’s techs had attached a couple of small repulsors to it so its weight was negligible.

  Leia was going to place the charge with Metara, Sian, and two Aegis crew members. Metara had been wearing the conflicted expression of someone who wanted to argue but had somehow missed the opportunity, and Han suspected she had thought that Leia would stay at the ship with Kelvan and the rest of the crew, had probably expected it up until the last minute when Leia had followed her down the ramp. But Leia was so expert by now at circumventing the-Princess-shouldn’t-risk-herself arguments that Han knew there was no point in him or anyone else objecting.

  Also, Metara had no emotional attachment to Sian and no compelling reason to listen to her. If Metara tried to change her mind at the last moment, Leia could stop her; Sian on her own couldn’t.

  Once they were safely out of eye- and earshot of the bay doors, they parted ways while still on the droid track. Han and his happy band would go farther down the dock ring and then into the interior toward the maintenance tunnel. Leia and Metara’s group were to head straight across the docking ring corridor into the first traverse, to make their way to the lower portion of the central cavern.

  As the others were climbing down the fibercord from the ore track to the corridor floor, Han turned to Leia. She said briskly, “We’ll get into position and wait for your signal.”

  “Yeah.” Han never knew what to say in these moments. They were friends, nothing more—sometimes not even that—and they always had an audience. This time it seemed like a particularly attentive audience, at least on Itran and Terae’s part. He settled for, “Good luck, Princess. Watch your back.”

  Leia’s expression was slightly ironic. “Thanks, Han, I’ll do that.”

  As usual, Han felt that she was expecting something from him that he didn’t know how to give her. The only thing that made these moments less aggravating was that there were plenty of times when he was expecting something from her that she wasn’t giving him—and he actually had no idea what it was. So he just led his group away, fairly certain she was rolling her eyes at his back.

  They had decided to try to go for the access closer to the slave pen, the one Han had stuck his head up through on the way down the maintenance tunnel. He led the others along the original route he, Sian, and Terae had taken. The farther they went down the traverse, the darker it got, and their lights caught only the scattered parts of an old droid carcass and the gleam of dying power cells in the occasional looted wall console.

  “You sure there’s a cross corridor down here, Solo?” Itran asked.

  It was Terae who answered impatiently, “The map showed both traverses connect to the same haulage tunnel. We’re not idiots—we didn’t just pick this route randomly.”

  Itran didn’t argue, and Han decided he might have to stop disliking Terae quite so much if she could shut Itran down like that more often.

  The traverse finally turned into an open bridge above the haulage tunnel they had been looking for. The haulage tunnel was darker than a black hole, without even the few dying lumas that still floated through the traverse. But the gravity was lighter in it, and they were able to drop down to the uneven floor without risking any broken legs or ankles.

  Han’s handlight showed that this passage was in far worse shape than the others. They had to climb past piles of crumbled rock debris and the occasional smashed ore cart. Han kept an eye out but didn’t see any signs of castaways camping down here. A thick layer of muck, that oily combination of rock dust and recycled moisture from the ventilation system, lay over everything, and there were no footmarks or any other evidence that anybody had been through here in a long time.

  They passed a shaft entrance, a big round opening in the floor, dark and dank and emitting an odor of rot; shortly thereafter they came to an overhead traverse access bridge entirely blocked by an ore cart that had apparently gone rogue and tried to wedge itself up through the opening. A couple of abandoned flatbed lifters lay crumpled in the debris below it. Ahead the haulage tunnel curved, and Han spotted a dim glow of light.

  “That’s it?” Terae whispered.

  “Should be,” Han said. So far the map had been right.

  As they got closer, the faint light from above showed Han where the roof of the haulage tunnel opened up and the traverse they wanted bridged it. His handlight found a set of rough steps carved up the rock wall. They managed the climb easily, though Fera, the smaller Aegis crew member, slipped off once. Fortunately, the lighter gravity gave Itran plenty of time to reach down and catch her hand to pull her back up.

  The traverse was only a little better lit than the haulage tunnel, with dying lumas scattered at wide intervals. Han’s nerves began to jump from the quiet. There was still no sign of castaways, which was odd, but maybe they were careful about getting too near the slave pen. Probably for fear
of ending up in it.

  Ahead he saw two lumas hovering in a widened junction in a way that looked familiar, and figured they were close. He played his light over the floor until he found the square access to the maintenance tunnel.

  “This is it,” Han said. “Terae, you—”

  There was a click about two meters to Han’s right. He stepped sideways, spun, and drew his blaster just as a dark spheroid shape rose out of a pile of debris against the far wall. Han registered that it was a droid and felt a flush of relief. Then in the next heartbeat he realized that though the black metal carapace was just as dirty as everything else, it moved smoothly and its near-silent hum meant it was new, not a remnant from the old mine. This could be trouble …

  Then the top segment rotated toward him, and a nozzle extended. Han snapped to the others, “Get down!” and dived sideways. The droid fired as he hit the ground, and he felt the heat of a near miss. He fired back in multiple bursts, trying to keep it focused on him so the others could return fire with better aim.

  Blasts from behind him struck the droid and he heard Terae yell, “Security droid, fall back, fall back!”

  The droid’s shield flared as it deflected the bolts and moved inexorably forward. Han scrambled behind a too-small pile of metal debris as it fired again, but it aimed past him at the others. The pirates obviously had skipped the security droid’s challenge and detain options and gone straight to terminate intruders. He threw a glance around to see who was in a better position. Itran was flattened back against the wall; catching his eye, Han mouthed the words, You hit low, I’ll hit high. Itran nodded.

  Han shoved to his feet and fired at the droid’s rotating control module. Itran’s bolts struck lower down in the power module. The droid’s deflector shield flared, and Han had time to hope the pirates had been too cheap to get one of the higher-power models. Then the deflector overloaded with an eye-searing flash, and Han’s next bolt hit the control module. The droid shuddered, slid sideways on its repulsors, and slammed into the wall with a metallic shriek. It collapsed in a heap.

  Behind Han, Terae said, “Can we still go on? You think—”

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Han told her. “There’s gonna be more than one. It’s signaled whoever put it here by now.”

  On cue, a searchlight flashed down the corridor as another dark shape moved into sight. Somewhere ahead, an alarm started to wail.

  Nobody needed to discuss it anymore. They ran back down the traverse, dodging the piles of debris. This traverse had to lead to a secure storage area, one that had been added later by the pirates, that wasn’t on the old map. There must be security droids at all the entrances to it, protecting the cargoes stored there. Earlier, Han sticking his head out of the access hadn’t been enough to trip the droids, but he was lucky he hadn’t tried to climb out and scout around.

  Luck was relative, of course.

  Han covered the others as they half climbed, half jumped down into the haulage tunnel. More lights and shapes moved at the end of the dim traverse, and from the way the new lights jerked around he was pretty certain most were carried by living beings, not droids. It had to be the crew whose cargo storage they had gotten too close to, alerted by a signal from the droid. Below, Itran called, “Solo, come on!” and Han scrambled down the rough steps.

  Terae had already dimmed her handlight to the lowest setting, and the others had turned theirs off. Han did the same, and they moved as fast as they could down the haulage tunnel. Terae swept her light across the floor as they ran. It would have been better to cut all the lights, but there was too much debris in this tunnel, plus the open shaft somewhere ahead. Even with the lighter gravity in the shafts and tunnels, they didn’t have time to stop and haul someone out.

  Terae was the first to reach the traverse they had come down. She climbed the rough wall to reach it and popped her head over the edge. When she swore and let go to drop back down, Han figured it wasn’t good news.

  “They’re coming down that way, too!” she whispered.

  Han didn’t need to look for himself. He heard shouts and boots pounding somewhere above, echoing off the rock.

  They could keep going down the haulage tunnel, in the dark, and it might be blocked at any point. Han couldn’t let them catch Terae, Fera, or Allian. If they were identified as Aegis crew, somebody might demand to see Leia and Metara, find them gone, and start a search.

  “Take them and keep going,” he told Terae. “I’ll cover you.”

  She stared up at him. “But—”

  “That’s an order,” Han snapped, and Metara had trained her so well it was almost that simple.

  She jerked away, then remembered who he was and glared at him. “You’re not my commanding officer!”

  Looking up at the traverse, he said, “If you’ve got a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”

  Terae hesitated, but they were obviously running out of time. She turned away, gestured sharply at Fera and Allian, and they ran up the tunnel into darkness.

  Han switched his handlight on and started back the way they had come, very conscious of the pirates and security droids coming at him from both ends of the tunnel.

  Catching up to him, Itran asked, “You planning to get caught?”

  “I’m planning to get their attention and then head for that shaft we passed.” The only droid that had gotten close enough to count the intruders was a blasted mess, and Han bet nobody would take the time to check its memory storage, if there was anything still left of it. If they saw him running away, they wouldn’t stop and search for anybody else. “Now get out of here!”

  In the glow of his handlight, Han saw Itran shake his head, as stubborn as a rock. “I’m with you. It’ll be more convincing with two of us.”

  Han set his jaw and didn’t bother to argue. If the idiot wanted to play hero, fine.

  Behind them, the pirates arrived at the bridge with wild flashes of handlights and shouts, pebbles clattering down the wall of the haulage tunnel as they reached the edge. Han switched his own light off and spun to fire up at them, a short burst of bolts that made certain the pursuit would focus on this end of the tunnel. The returned fire slagged the tunnel wall just half a meter short of his head, and Han ducked and ran.

  The flash of the pirates’ lights had temporarily ruined Han’s night vision. He couldn’t see Itran at all, but he could hear heavy footsteps crunch over the crushed rock on the tunnel floor. Han figured it was going to be a long scramble down the shaft, even with the lighter gravity.

  He thought he heard an engine whine somewhere ahead, but it was hard to tell with the echoes in the tunnel. It might be another heavy-duty security droid; that would be about all they needed. He glanced back and saw jumping lights as the pirates pounded toward them. There were only five of them, which was a relief. It would be hard for five to spread out and search multiple passages. Now we just have to get down to the multiple passages, Han thought.

  “It’s here,” Itran gasped, and Han almost fell headlong into the shaft.

  Fortunately the gravity was even lighter in the shaft than it was in the haulage tunnel. Han slid down a near-vertical slope but caught a rocky projection on the wall and stopped his fall. Making enough noise for a reek in heat, Itran scrambled down after him.

  They climbed down as fast as they could, trying to be quiet, but Han knew that as soon as the two groups of pursuers met in the haulage tunnel, they would realize this shaft was the only escape route. Then he heard pebbles and debris rattle somewhere above, and the echo of voices. Angry voices.

  “Faster,” he whispered to Itran. He looked down and saw that the darkness at the bottom of the shaft was more gray than black; the next haulage tunnel was maybe fifty meters below them. It was tempting to let go and drop, relying on the lighter gravity, but he couldn’t see what was down there, and a broken ankle would mean a messy death at the hands of the pirates.

  “Going as fast as I can,” Itran muttered back.

  Still climbin
g, still looking down, Han saw a shape in that darkness, something partially blocking the end of the shaft. Another rogue ore cart, maybe.

  Then something creaked and groaned in the shaft above them. Han looked up into blinding light as someone aimed an arc light down at them.

  “Drop!” he told Itran.

  Itran looked down and grimaced, then pushed off from the wall. As Han launched himself, blasterfire filled the shaft, impacting the rock above and showering him with burning-hot rock fragments as the bolts shattered and heated the stone.

  The problem with the light gravity was that the fall was too slow. The light flicked away, searched for them as they dropped out of its reach. Han heard a metallic thump and a scrabble as Itran hit the ore cart wedged across the shaft. Han resisted the urge to brace for the impact and made himself go limp instead. He hit feetfirst and his body folded up; the impact was bone jarring, but he didn’t break anything. The metal surface was tilted, and Han half slid down toward where he could hear Itran ahead of him. Then the light hit him again, eye searing and disorienting. He looked up as something blocked the light just in time to see a big, flat shape plunge down toward them. What in the … he had time to think, and then he flung himself backward.

  Whatever it was slammed into the ore cart and knocked Han into the air. He felt his shoulder bang into solid rock, and that was the last thing he knew.

  In the near darkness, Leia carefully picked her way after Metara. A distant yell, sounding weirdly animal-like, sounded from one of the connecting tunnels. The crew member behind Leia stepped on the back of her boot and apologized in an embarrassed whisper. “It’s all right,” she whispered back.

  The route from the docking ring to the center of the mine went through an unused maze of haulage tunnels; it was some very ugly terrain.

  Judging by the refuse Leia had seen and the stench, it was clear many of the castaways were badly addicted to spice; where they were getting it from was another question. She wondered if Viest or other pirates used a supply of spice to control them, or traded it to them in exchange for work or favors or other services Leia preferred not to contemplate too closely.