Star Wars_ I, Jedi - Michael A. Stackpole [191]
“They won’t. Look, I’ll get a sense of the place before I go in. I’ll know if he’s got people waiting to jump me.”
“And what if he has robotically controlled blasters so you won’t have gunmen to pick out?”
“I’ll think of something.” My answer rang hollow in my ears, too, but it was the only one I had for him. “I can’t not face him, Elegos. If I do nothing, he wins, and a lot of people get hurt. I lose my chance to destroy the Invids.”
“If you die, the same thing happens.”
“I have no choice.” I shrugged. “I know this one will get ugly, and I’m fairly certain someone’s going to die. I’ll just have to make sure those who die are those who deserve to die.”
I left my hotel unseen and stalked through darkened streets I found remarkably free of life—at least the sapiens variety. Word had clearly leaked out that the Jedi had agreed to accept Shala’s challenge. Since the two of us were likely the most hated individuals on the planet no one wanted to get in the way of our confrontation.
The warehouse looked no different than it had before, save the side door was open and no light bled out into the night. I extended my senses toward it, letting the Force flood through me, and picked out only a half-dozen large lifeforms, including Shala on his dais. The others remained hidden deep in the warrens surrounding the central pit. Their nervousness shone like a beacon, but I found Shala frighteningly calm. He was just waiting for me, so I deigned to keep him waiting no longer.
I entered the warehouse through the open door and was not surprised when it closed behind me. I made my way quickly through the tangled trail of debris to the central amphitheatre, threading a path through chemical drums and twisted piles of metal. When I reached the warehouse’s center, I saw a single light on, shining down on Shala and the 3PO droid translator. I slowly stalked down into the amphitheatre bowl and stopped two meters away from the Hutt. I threw back the wings of my cloak and brought my lightsaber into a doublehanded grip, but I did not turn it on.
Shala muttered something and the droid translated. “The great glabrous Shala the Hutt bids you welcome. He instructs you to lay down your weapon and surrender to him, or you will pay a most fearful price.”
I thumbed my lightsaber on and pointed it up at him. “Tell Shala I have all the credits I need to pay his price right here. Where would he like them deposited?”
The Hutt laughed, which was not the sort of warm friendly sound one usually associated with laughter. His shoulders bounced, his fat bounced more, and a greenish foam crested the lower lip of his mouth and cascaded down his chin. The sound, however, that was even uglier. As it trailed to a wheeze, I heard a click and saw the Hutt raise his right hand. In it he had a remote with a big red button held down by his thumb.
The droid spoke again. “Shala asks me to inform you this is a deadHutt switch that will set off a variety of explosives here. He says that he has enough explosives here to destroy everything for a kilometer around us. If you do not surrender, many innocent people will die.”
All around us I saw little red lights come on and begin to blink, making me groan inwardly. In the light from above I caught enough detail—crosshatched panels curving inward with a red light blinking on top—to know I was looking at Merr-Sonn Munitions LX-1 laser-flechette mines all pointed in my direction. When detonated, the panels would absorb the energy from the explosives and the laser diodes would spray out clouds of laser bolts. To complicate matters, the mines usually had a three meter backblast of pure explosive fire, which would feed into the chemical drums I’d passed on my way in. That would trigger subsidiary explosions that would make quite a mess.
Based on the drums I saw, and what I knew of the mines, there wasn’t really as much explosive power here as Shala said there was. Either he is lying or … I glanced up and above the spotlight,