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X-7 combed the room, centimeter by centimeter, making sure there wasn't any other option. There wasn't. So he stepped into the turbolift.

As soon as the doors slid shut, the bottom dropped out beneath him. The lift zoomed downward, then abruptly stopped and whooshed horizontally for several long seconds. X-7 calculated that he was at least twenty meters below the ground, traveling two, possibly three city blocks. He'd come across such contraptions on other planets, underground turbolifts, buildings connected by secret passageways. The Rebels were like borrats, hollowing out warrens in the heart of every city so they could operate beneath the Imperial radar. But X-7 was certain no Rebel cells were operating on Belazura—none, that is, except for the one he'd found himself a part of.

Without warning, the turbolift started to rise.

As it came to a stop, X-7 gauged the speed and the time and, with a simple calculation, judged himself to be about twenty stories off the ground. Too high to jump, if it came to that. But not too high to climb.

The doors soundlessly slid open, revealing an office nearly identical to one he'd recently visited on Coruscant. Its occupant stood behind the imposing desk, clearly waiting for X-7's arrival.

X-7's first reaction was relief. His body wanted to drop to its knees, beg forgiveness from his commander.

"Surprised?" Rezi Soresh raised his eyebrows. "But not disappointed, I hope?"

X-7 raised his blaster and pulled the trigger.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The shot tore into the wall behind Soresh's head.

Soresh sighed. "This is Sittana marble and it certainly looks better without holes in it,"

he said. "But I suppose I should thank you for not putting one in my head."

"What are you doing here?" X-7 asked harshly.

"Oh, your Rebel reconnaissance didn't reveal that I was in the neighborhood?" Soresh asked with false shock. X-7 kept his face blank. So Soresh knew about the Rebel plans—

which meant they were doomed. "I'm supervising the new munitions shipments—and more to the point, I'm supervising you. You think I can afford to have an agent running wild through the galaxy? In this condition? That should be obvious. No, the question you should be asking is why are you here?" He formed a temple with his fingers and propped his chin on his fingertips. "I didn't train you to be the kind of man who could be surprised."

He pressed something on his desk, and the door to the turbolift disappeared into the wall. A bookshelf took its place. X-7 cursed himself for letting his one guaranteed means of exit disappear.

"Old Rebel hideaway," Soresh said, gesturing at the hidden turbolift, obviously pleased with himself. "Of course, there aren't any of them left to hide. We took care of that."

X-7 did his best to ignore Soresh. Automatically, he surveyed his surroundings, eyes alighting on any possible means of escape. The office, clearly a temporary one, was mostly bare, although the Commander had stupidly left his files and datapad sitting out on the desk. Perhaps he'd forgotten that he'd equipped X-7 with a photographic memory. Once the information passed in front of his face, it was in his mind forever. The desk also contained the controls for the hidden turbolift. Once the Commander was out of commission—which would be easy enough to see to—the lift would be accessible.

And if all else failed, there was always the window.

Soresh waved a hand lazily at the transparisteel. "Go," he said. "If that's what you really want. I didn't think you were the kind of man who would enjoy living a lie, but be my guest."

"There are only two things I want," X-7 retorted. "My life—and your death." He watched his commander carefully, searching for some sign of anxiety or concern. But the man remained perfectly calm. Confident. What does he know that I don't? X-7 thought, suddenly wary. Maybe he should leave sooner rather than later.

But if he left, the Commander would always be waiting to reassert control, to turn X-7

back into a slave. It would be much more expedient to kill him now.

Think like a human, X-7 reminded