Star Wars_ Rebel Force 05_ Trapped - Alex Wheeler [39]
It was a certainty that something was very wrong.
And the ghost of a voice, whispering in his ears.
Go.
It could have been Obi-Wan's voice, speaking from beyond the grave. But Ferus believed it was his own. And he followed it.
The Divinian house was empty. Ferus prowled the rooms one by one, lightsaber at the ready. There was something off here. He could sense it. He flung open door after door.
Kitchen. Refresher. Bedroom. A second bedroom—
Ferus gasped and rushed across the room. "Div!" he shouted, kneeling by the body.
The boy's eyes were closed. A blast of laserfire had scorched his shoulder. Ferus pressed two fingers to Div's pale neck. He closed his eyes. "Please," he whispered, feeling for a pulse.
It was there. Faint, but there. He was alive.
"Come on," Ferus urged him, hurriedly dressing the wound. "Stay with me. Stay with me, Lune."
"How many times do I have to tell you that's not my name?" Div opened his eyes and gave Ferus a weak smile.
"What happened?"
Div struggled to sit up.
"Easy," Ferus said. "Go slow."
Div shook his head. "No time. Head for the garrison. It's an ambush."
"X-7?"
"I don't know what happened. He just…turned."
"He shot you in the shoulder," Ferus mused, tucking Div's left arm into a makeshift sling.
"I noticed."
"Interesting."
Div dragged himself to his feet, wincing at the pain. "You find this interesting? "
"He is a trained Imperial assassin, and he shot you point-blank—in the shoulder,"
Ferus said, helping Div stand. "If he'd wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Makes you wonder."
"Makes you wonder, maybe," Div said. "Makes me want to go save our friends from walking into a bloodbath."
Div was pale and trembling with the effort of standing. The sling kept his shoulder immobile, but moving was clearly agony. "I'm not sure how much help you can be to anyone in this condition," Ferus said, worried.
Div just stared at him with the same determined, unsettling gaze he'd had as a child. "I have to try."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"Go!" Luke urged Han. "I'll plant the detonators. You help Leia."
Han was already in motion. The Rebel strike forces had camouflaged themselves in the wooded hills surrounding the garrison. Now their hiding place was lit up by exploding grenades and bolts of laserfire crackling through the trees. It had been an ambush, and the Rebel forces were surely overpowered. There was no chance that Han's presence would turn the tide, even with the fragmentation grenades tucked into his belt beside his backup blaster. If he was smart, he'd just walk away, save his own skin while he had the chance.
But he didn't hesitate to plunge into the smoky battle.
Chewbacca was in there somewhere.
Leia was in there.
It was total chaos. Laserfire shot through the thick haze of smoke. The nahtival trees were on fire. The branches crackled as they burned, and flaming leaves fluttered through the air, igniting small patches of zura grass. The Rebels and the stormtroopers seemed to be firing blindly, desperate to hit someone—anyone.
There were at least twice as many stormtroopers as there were Rebels. Han bashed the nearest one in the back of the head and pushed forward into the center of the mess.
Laserfire peppered the trees. "Chewie!" Han shouted, catching sight of the Wookiee surrounded by four stormtroopers. Chewbacca grabbed one in each hand and swung them like a stun baton into the others. The Imperials went down in a grunting heap.
"Get down, buddy!" Han shouted as a stormtrooper perched in a tree began shooting at the Wookiee. Han whipped his blaster into action and took him out with a single shot to the head. The Imperial toppled to the ground, landing with a clatter on two of his allies.
Chewbacca roared in gratitude, already turning toward a couple of Rebels pinned down by a circle of troopers. Han was charging in to help when a blast of laserfire shot past, singeing his shoulder. He flinched, whipping around