Star Wars_ Rebel Force 05_ Trapped - Alex Wheeler [28]
A few more seconds, a little less luck, and it could have been him.
Leia helped him climb back aboard the bike. The engine thrummed beneath him. Leia was shaking. Luke took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Let's go," he suggested, trying his best not to look at the toxic soup swirling beneath him. "Meet up with the others and start planning phase two."
"Let's just hope it goes better than phase one," Leia said, turning toward the rendezvous point.
"Couldn't go worse," Luke pointed out.
Leia twisted around to give him a wry smile. "You know what Han would say to that."
Luke was pretty sure he did. And he had to admit, for once, the pilot was probably right. "Things can always get worse."
CHAPTER TEN
X-7 closed his fingers around the enemy's neck and squeezed. He would throttle the life out of this imposter. Punish him for daring to believe he could fool X-7. That level of idiocy deserved death. Div gasped for air as red bloomed across his cheeks—blood vessels bursting in the struggle for oxygen.
The enemy jerked his hands up in a reverse Moravian maneuver. X-7 toppled backward, and the enemy was on him in a heartbeat. They rolled across the carpet, knocking over a synthstone table. Dishes and glasses clattered to the ground, shattering on impact. X-7 raised an arm to protect himself against the spray of jagged fragments. But his enemy grabbed a wrist and flipped X-7 onto his back.
As he fell, X-7 hooked his leg behind his foe's and brought him down, too. But the enemy had seen the move coming, and grabbed a fire poker from the fireplace on his way down. He slammed the durasteel rod down at X-7's face.
X-7 rolled out of the way just in time. He drew his blaster. With lightning speed, the enemy knocked it out of his hand. It skidded across the room, disappearing under a couch.
The enemy was a blur with the poker, lashing and lunging like a master swordsman.
Driven by instinct, X-7 reached blindly, his hands closing around a curtain rod and ripping it off the wall. Some part of him must have noticed it earlier and filed it away for later use.
That was why X-7 was invincible. He fought like a machine. No emotion, no passion.
Only speed and observation and power. He moved with grace and without hesitation. He was like a force of nature. He had been bred for battle. He was a deadly weapon.
And yet the enemy matched him. Move for move.
Their makeshift weapons clashed and clanged. X-7 launched an attack, but the enemy countered with a Phr'shan maneuver. A Griggs-Barnay was the next logical move, but instead, X-7 opted for the unexpected, slashing at the enemy with a modified Ptann attack that he had picked up on Tarivo III. The enemy danced backward almost before X-7 had begun to strike, as if he knew what X-7 was going to do even before X-7 himself did.
They were too evenly matched. X-7 needed to regain the advantage. He began consciously to speed up his breathing, as if he were struggling for air. Sweat streamed down his face. "Hold," he gasped, panting. He let the enemy take the offensive and back him further and further across the room. "We need to talk."
The enemy lashed out with the poker. X-7 parried the blow but let his arm sag just a bit. He didn't want to look too weak. Just weak enough that it would be believable for him to stop the fight.
"You break into my home, attack me without cause or warning, and you expect me to take pity on you?" the enemy growled. He pounced on X-7, who shifted his weight and leaned into the attack, using the enemy's momentum to throw him across the room.
"Not pity," X-7 said, dropping into a crouch behind the sofa. His blaster was under there somewhere. If he could just reach it…"But if you're at all curious why I'm here…"
There! His hand closed around the blaster. He lodged it into his belt, tucking it beneath his shirt. Then he stood again, arms out to his sides. "A temporary ceasefire, that's all I'm suggesting. Time for