Star Wars_ Rebel Force 04_ Firefight - Alex Wheeler [10]
He was able to angle his descent enough to aim for one of the platforms, but at the last minute, a gust of wind blew him off course. The parachute wrapped itself around a long, thin antenna shooting up from the surface. Luke stopped with a jolt as the parachute lines were stretched taut. He found himself dangling upside down, about twenty meters off the ground. Rain pelted his face. Bolts of lightning flashed overhead, dangerously close. It suddenly occurred to him: What if this wasn't an antenna?
What if it was a lightning rod?
Trying not to panic, Luke yanked on the cords holding him to the parachute. He hauled himself upright. If I can cut myself free, I can climb down the antenna, he told himself.
As long as he didn't lose his grip.
As long as the wet durasteel surface wasn't so slick he slid to his death.
And as long as he wasn't struck by lightning on the way down.
He had to swing close enough to the antenna to grab hold. He dangled from the ropes, shifting his weight in one direction, then the other. At first he just swayed gently, but soon he was swinging like a pendulum. He slammed into the antenna and wrapped his arms around the wet durasteel. It was so cold that he could already feel his fingers going numb.
He'd have to do this fast. Wrapping his legs tightly around the narrow pole, he activated his lightsaber. The glowing blue blade sliced through the parachute cords. Luke was free.
Now he just needed to find a way down.
He peered at the ground, which seemed extremely far away. There were no handholds on the antenna, and the material was too slippery to risk climbing hand over hand. Instead, he shinnied down, finding purchase with his feet, then lowering his weight, inch by slippery inch. His hair was plastered to his face and rain streamed into his eyes, turning the world into a watery blur. His hands slipped down the pole with a blistering squeal, and he dropped the last three meters, landing on the ground with a heavy, jolting thud.
But at least he'd made it onto the planet. Now, the next problem: How was he ever going to leave it—especially with his ship at the bottom of the Kamino sea?
The city, a collection of dark domed buildings rising on stilts from the choppy waters, was absolutely still. According to Luke's mission briefing, the place was little more than barracks for the families of those working in the research station, so it made sense that much of the population would have left when the station had closed down. He'd been expecting a sparse population, a certain emptiness, but he hadn't expected… this.
The platforms were empty. Motionless. And yet signs of life were everywhere.
Speeders sat in the middle of the street, apparently abandoned, rusting in the rain. Peering through water-streaked windows, Luke glimpsed homes with tables set for dining, offices with work-cluttered desks, children's playrooms strewn with toys. It was as if one day all the residents had simultaneously dropped what they were doing and walked away.
Or disappeared.
There was a rustling noise behind him. Luke froze. He rested his hand on his blaster and slowly turned around.
R2-D2 beeped in delight. Luke relaxed and smiled in relief. "Glad you made it, little guy. Now we just have to find the others." He pulled out his survival pack. It was equipped with a homing beacon and a signal detector that would allow him to track the beacons of the other X-wing pilots. Two blinking lights popped up on the screen—one for Han, one for Chewbacca. They were close—less than a kilometer away. The signal tracker would show him exactly where to find his friends. But it couldn't tell him whether they were still alive.
Div turned his back on his ship before it sank completely beneath the water. No point in dwelling on the past—and his beloved Firespray was now officially past. When the