Star Wars_ Rebel Force 03_ Renegade - Alex Wheeler [42]
This place was the armpit of the galaxy, and the sooner he got out, the better.
But he couldn't go anywhere until Skywalker was taken care of.
He waited impatiently for the Trandoshan to deal Luke a death blow. But it never came. And X-f0 7 found himself relieved. Which made no sense. It shouldn't have mattered whether Luke died by X-f0 7's hand or the bounty hunter's claw. All that should have mattered was that the target ended up dead, and the Commander was satisfied. Fulfilling the mission, that was to be his only job, his only care.
But this time, X-f0 7 wanted more than that. He wanted the kill. Luke had defied him one too many times, clinging to life; Luke had made the Commander doubt X-f0 7's competence. Luke Skywalker needed to die, and X-f0 7 needed to be the one to make that happen.
X-f0 7 knew something was wrong. He wasn't supposed to feel want. Just as he wasn't supposed to feel frustration, or impatience as he watched the battle play out, his finger itching on the trigger of his blaster. These were emotions—
and emotions were dangerous. More than that, they were forbidden.
X-f0 7 also knew that he should report his problem to the Commander, who would be further convinced it was time for more training. More time in the box, pinned to the wall, pincers prying through his thoughts and memories, cleaning him out. Or perhaps the Commander would decide he wasn't worth the trouble and terminate him. This shouldn't have mattered, either. Life was nothing to X-f0
7, nothing but a way to serve the Commander. If he could better serve the Commander through death, so be it.
But nothing was the way it was supposed to be, not since Luke. The longer he spent on this mission, the more he wanted to complete it. And the more he wanted other things, whether or not he was supposed to. Things like Luke's death.
Things like his own life.
Everything will get back to normal, he told himself. Once Skywalker is dead.
The wounded Trandoshan limped out of the bar. X-f0 7 had no idea why the bounty hunter would have given up before he or his target was dead. But it wasn't important. It was X-f0 7's turn now. Luke was standing behind the shattered window, jagged transparisteel framing his trusting face.
Kneeling, X-f0 7 rested the barrel of the blaster on the edge of the roof, and framed Luke's head in the targeting scope. He lined up the perfect shot. His finger tightened on the trigger, but he hesitated. Just to savor what was to come.
Just a moment—but a moment too long.
The blast nozzle jabbed hard into the back of his head. X-f0 7 likely would have been able to identify it by feel—a DL-44 heavy blaster—but he didn't have to. Be knew exactly what kind of blaster it was, because it was accompanied by a familiar voice.
"Drop it." Han didn't wait for X-f0 7 to comply. He kicked the weapon out of X-f0 7's hands. It toppled off the roof, crashing into a Jawa trading post below and clanging against an unsuspecting R2 unit. The unit beeped and sparked, skidding wildly toward a tethered eopie. The spooked beast reared up on its hind legs, slamming back to the ground squarely atop a stall of fresh pallie and pika fruits. A clutch of angry Jawas and fruit vendors gaped up at the roof, shouting in squeaky voices and shaking their fists.
"Get up," Han ordered. "Slowly."
As he climbed to his feet, X-f0 7 did some quick calculating. He could kill Solo now—the smuggler's blaster was nothing against X-f0 7's speed and K'tara fighting skills. But he couldn't do it now, not with half of Mos Eisley watching from below. His orders had been to remain undercover for as long as possible, to kill Luke without losing the Rebellion's trust. Which meant he would have to let this play out as long as he could, and try to turn