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“Let’s move away from the door,” Luke said. “That pounding will only wear us down.”

Weakly, they shuffled into the dim briefing room where Burrk had told his terrifying story. The former stormtrooper took a quick inventory. “My blaster pistols are out of charge. Nodon’s rifle is drained. Drom Guldi, what have you got left?”

The big-game hunter inspected his weapon. “Ten shots,” he said, as if that was all they could possibly need.

“And we’ve got your two lightsabers,” Burrk said to Luke and Callista.

Luke pursed his lips. “Given time, we could work out some way to recharge the blasters. There must be a way to jury-rig a thermal unit or a light source to dump power into the blaster charge packs.”

Burrk shrugged. “If you’ve got the time and the resources and the inspiration …”

Luke rummaged around in the scrap equipment. Burrk squatted and took a more primitive approach; pulling out pipes and rods, he used instant-set epoxy to fasten on knife blades fashioned from metal shards. He made four crude spears. They were hopeless weapons against an onslaught from the ice creatures, but the former stormtrooper had no intention of giving up.

Drom Guldi cleaned and polished his blaster rifle. Sinidic sat listless beside him, fidgeting with his hands. The Baron-Administrator elbowed his aide. “We need a morale booster. Sinidic, see if you can’t find us some rations. Maybe something hot to eat and drink. There isn’t much, but we need to keep our strength up.”

“Me?” Sinidic said, blinking stupidly.

“You’re sitting there paralyzed—you need something to do. Keep yourself busy. First order of business.”

Sinidic got up, swallowed, and nodded. His grayish skin grew more flushed. He looked at Drom Guldi for confirmation of the orders, then trotted off to one of the storerooms to do his master’s bidding.

Luke and Callista sat together, holding each other for comfort. “This isn’t quite the vacation I planned,” Luke said.

Callista leaned her head against his. “Remind me never to listen to your fancy talk again.”

Burrk stood up, grasped one of his new spears, and tossed it across the room. The sharp tip plunged into the packed snow walls, and the spear hung there, quivering. “I think that’ll do,” he said.

A loud shriek erupted from the darkened storeroom, followed by a wet ripping sound and then a gurgling gasp. The five survivors in the room lunged to their feet, Drom Guldi the first among them. They had taken no more than a few steps down the ice-walled corridor before a bloodied wampa lumbered out of the storeroom, his claws dripping, his white fur drenched with fresh gore.

Drom Guldi faltered for just an instant, then he brought up his blaster rifle, firing three times in rapid succession. He hit precisely each time—the wampa’s stomach, the center of its chest, and its hideous head. With no more than a hollow cough, the monster fell to the packed floor with the sound of a crashing cargo hauler.

“Must have slipped in the open door while we were fighting outside!” Burrk said.

Drom Guldi looked toward the supply room where he had sent his aide. He didn’t bother to go inside. Instead, the Baron-Administrator reached toward Burrk and grabbed one of the stormtrooper’s newly fashioned spears. With the metal blade, Drom Guldi hacked down, chopping off one of the wampa’s curved tusks. The big-game hunter held the dripping prize in his hand and inspected it critically. “This one,” he said coldly. “This is the one I’ll take for my trophy. And for Sinidic.” He threw a second glance at the darkened storeroom, and his face grew stony. “These monsters are persistent.”

From outside, the dull echoing thuds continued as the ice creatures attempted to pummel their way inside.

Then, to make things worse, all the lights went out.

“They trashed the generator,” Burrk said, his voice coming from the emptiness of darkness.

Luke pulled out his lightsaber and pressed the power stud. The green beam crackled out with an eerie glow that illuminated the walls of ice and snow. Callista drew her blade, and the two stood side by side.