Star Wars_ Rebel Force 05_ Trapped - Alex Wheeler [24]
Even if I have to cut it out of him.
"Lucky boy," the old man said. "Don't know why he doesn't spend more time in that house. Not many lucky enough to have an ocean view, not these days."
"I was just at Flume's house," X-7 snapped. "No one's living there. It's falling apart."
"Falling apart?" The man shook his head. "It was fine yesterday, in perfect condition.
Perfect condition the day before. Walk past it every day on my way home, I do. Don't know why they kept it as a summerhouse. If it were my house, I'd live in it year-round, day in, day out, I would. But not them. Two months a year, in and out. Never made much sense to me."
"Where is it?" X-7 asked harshly. "Where's this summerhouse?"
The grave tender narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious. "Why do you want to know?"
X-7 sighed. Of course the senile Belazuran chose now to come out of his daze. X-7
didn't have the patience for deception or persuasion. He lashed out with lightning speed, grabbing the man by the neck. Then he squeezed. "Tell me where the house is. Or die."
The man gasped, trying desperately to draw in breath. His hands hammered at X-7's arm, but the blows were as negligible as tesfli piercer bites. "Time's running out," X-7 said,
"I'm sure I can obtain the information somewhere else—but I won't be very happy about it." He squeezed tighter.
The man's eyes bulged. He wheezed something inaudible.
"What's that?" X-7 relaxed his grip very slightly.
"The Fallows, beyond the city, along the water. The blue house, you can't miss it," he gasped. "Please. Please don't kill me."
It would take minimal effort to squeeze just a bit tighter, to cut off the man's air entirely. That way he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about the strange man who'd come around asking questions; he wouldn't be able to warn the brother. It made sense. That was the rule: When in doubt, kill.
But he didn't do it. Something strange stilled his hand. Mercy?
The thought repulsed him. Enraged, he slammed a fist into the grave tender's head, hard enough to guarantee he wouldn't be warning anyone anytime soon. The grave tender crumpled to the ground. And X-7 set off in search of his past.
He scaled the exterior of the house and perched on a ledge beside a large picture window. The ledge was only a few centimeters wide, but he was in no danger of losing his balance. The fogged transparisteel offered an imperfect view of the living room. But he could make out the figure puttering around inside. He could have just knocked on the door. But he was no fool. If this was a trap, he wasn't about to walk straight into it. Recon first, then action.
The man kept his face away from the window.
Turn around, X-7 ordered him silently. Show me who you are.
As if in reaction to the silent command, the man turned. X-7 stiffened in surprise. He'd seen that face before. Not in a half-remembered flash of childhood. Less than a month before, on an arid moon, accepting a mission to kill Luke Skywalker. The man was a mercenary pilot, one of the best, by the name of Lune—
Divinian! he suddenly remembered. As in Astri Divinian. It wasn't like him to forget those kinds of details. That was the sort of mistake that could get you killed. The sort of mistake that would lead you straight into a trap.
Because the odds against that man being his brother? Astronomical. There was a much more likely possibility.
X-7 gritted his teeth, furious that he'd allowed himself to be misled. This Divinian obviously had some kind of ax to grind. Perhaps he was still angry to have lost out on his payment when the Kamino mission went sour. Whatever the reason, he'd decided to come after X-7. To play with his mind, his emotions.
Bad mistake.
Recon was over, X-7 decided. Time for action.
He hurled himself through the window. Lune Divinian flung his hands over his face, shielding himself from the hail of transparisteel.