Star Wars_ Darth Maul 02_ Shadow Hunter - Michael Reaves [23]
Oolth stared at the blade, then at her. “I don’t believe this. Some Jedi you are! You managed to disable your own ship!”
Darsha bit back on several scathing replies that came to mind, saying instead, “It’s just a setback. I’ve got my comlink; I’ll just call the Temple for—”
She left the sentence unfinished, for as she was speaking she was reaching into her tunic for her comlink. The moment her fingers touched it she realized it was unusable, as well. The plaeklite casing was shattered, no doubt by that kick she had received from one of the Raptors. It had probably protected her from a broken rib; although, all things considered, at this point she would rather have had the injury.
Before she could explain this latest reversal to Oolth, the windshield in front of her suddenly cracked in a starburst. Simultaneously she heard the muffled report of a projectile weapon. Someone, most likely one of the Raptors, was shooting at them.
Darsha made a quick decision. They would have to abandon the skyhopper. They had to get uplevels as quickly as possible. She glanced about them and realized that such an action was easier said than done. Most of the buildings were blocked off above levels ten or twelve; the inhabitants of the upper stories didn’t even acknowledge the existence of those lower floors. But they couldn’t stay here. As if to underscore that fact, another bolt from the hidden sniper whistled past her ear. They couldn’t even take the risk of trying to get back to the safe house.
The last light of day was fading fast; soon it would be full night. Darsha stood up. “Out of the ship—fast!” She jumped to the pavement, pulling her ascension gun from her utility belt. She fired the grappling hook straight up at maximum length, hoping to strike a ledge or projection above the fog layer.
Another blast struck the windshield. Oolth screeched in fear and leapt out of the skyhopper. “What are you doing? We have to get out of here!”
“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” Darsha said as she felt the vibration down the length of the cable, which meant the hook had found purchase. “Hang on to me!” She grabbed the Fondorian around his waist and thumbed the winding mechanism.
The liquid cable reservoir was good for a maximum of two hundred meters, and the tensile strength of the monofilament line would easily support them both. Darsha knew that if they could make it up to the first traffic skylane—around level twenty—they could find an air taxi and get back to the Temple, or at least find a working comm station from which to call for help.
Another bolt caromed off the wall directly beneath them as they rose quickly up past the first level, then the second, then the third. Darsha’s arm felt like it was being pulled from its socket. She looked up and estimated that the fog was hovering at around level ten. Once they were enveloped, they would be safe enough from the sniper.
A massive shadow flitted past her, followed by several more. In the dimming light she wasn’t sure what they were at first. Then she saw one clearly, and recognition sent a chill of fear through her.
Hawk-bats.
She had never seen one this close before. Their eggs were considered a delicacy; she’d eaten them more than once for the morning meal in the Temple. Ordinarily hawk-bats weren’t considered dangerous, but she had heard stories of people occasionally being attacked by flocks of the creatures. Evidently they were very territorial, and danger fell to anyone who ventured too close to one of their rookeries.
Which, apparently, was just what she had done.
Suddenly they were enveloped in a shrieking, flapping nightmare of wings, beaks, and talons. Distracted, Darsha buried her head in her shoulder as best she could to protect her eyes. She tried to summon the Force, to use it as a shield against the creatures, but the fierce buffeting of their wings made holding on to the ascension