Star Wars_ Rebel Force 03_ Renegade - Alex Wheeler [10]
X-f0 7 stood in the middle of Luke's quarters, an odd sensation churning in his gut: uncertainty.
He had volunteered his help with the investigation of the explosion. And, as an official part of that investigation, he'd ransacked Luke's room. He'd scavenged through piles of Luke's clothing; he'd torn apart Luke's mattress.
Searched everywhere for some record, some clue to where Luke and Leia might have gone.
And he'd come up empty.
He'd begun slicing Luke's encrypted computer files, but it would take some time. Meanwhile, he'd find a way to search Leia's room next. This would be harder to do without raising suspicion, but he'd get it done. That wasn't his concern.
His concern was that he wouldn't find anything there, either.
His concern was that Luke had slipped through his fingers, and X-f0 7
wouldn't be able to hunt him down.
X-f0 7 wouldn't be able to complete the mission he'd been given by his master.
And that meant X-f0 7 would be punished.
As he had been punished before.
" You've failed me, " the Commander says.
X-f0 7 squints into the blinding light. His master is a dark shadow, looming over him. X-f0 7 is immobilized, pinned to the wall by durasteel binders. There is no escape from the Commander's wrath. But the binders are unnecessary. X-f0 7
will bear his punishment. He belongs to the Commander. If the Commander wishes to destroy him, that is his right.
" The bounty hunter had been stalking the target for weeks, " he reports. " He killed the target before I even arrived. There was nothing I could have done. "
A sharp crack, as the Commander backhands him across the jaw. " No excuses! " he shouts. " You let someone else find the target first. You let someone kill him before he could be interrogated. There is no excuse for failure! "
But X-f0 7 is explaining, not excusing. Only frightened men make excuses, and X-f0 7 has no fear. The Commander took that from him, along with every other emotion, long ago. For X-f0 7, there are only facts. Events. And results.
Except that the only acceptable result is success.
And he has failed.
He waits for death.
" I've put too much time and money into training you, " the Commander mutters. " But obviously it wasn't enough. Your training will continue. "
X-f0 7 knows what this means. Back in the dark cell that has been home for as long as he can remember. Back to the battles with carnivorous danchafs and ravenous reeks. Back to the neural shock treatments, frying his system again and again, until there was nothing left but the urge to follow orders. Back to the possibility of death lurking around every corner, behind every door.
" But first, you will be punished for your failure, " the Commander says.
The Commander draws out his tools. The Neuronic whip. The Fire blade. The force pike. The nerve disrupter. And the Treppus-2 vibroblade.
A droid could have accomplished this task with ease, but the Commander prefers to administer punishments himself.
X-f0 7 is unafraid. The Commander's displeasure worms inside of him, acid that eats him from within. His failure is a physical fact, a physical pain. There is nothing to life but pleasing the Commander; failing him is worse than death.
Worse than anything imaginable. The Commander lifts the vibroblade. His favorite. X-f0 7 closes his eyes, believing he has nothing more to fear.
He is wrong.
" This is your better idea?" Leia asked, stepping over a pile of womp rat dung as they wound their way through a desolate assemblage of decrepit pourstone dwellings. Luke had called Anchorhead a small settlement, but as far as Leia could tell, it was barely more than a power station and a couple of cantinas. All looked deserted.
"Come on!" Luke said happily, hurrying to the power station. "I bet the guys are already inside."
Leia looked dubiously at the low-slung building. The rickety walls and decaying roof seemed to be on the verge of collapse; anyone inside might well be risking