Star Wars_ Rebel Force 05_ Trapped - Alex Wheeler [45]
And he never arrived on a planet without making sure that he had an alternate way to depart. In this case, it was an old CloakShape fighter stashed in a secure location.
Like all the bullies Soresh had faced over the years, Vader was stronger than him.
Bolder. More powerful in every way. Guaranteed to triumph in any face-to-face confrontation. But, like all the other bullies, Vader had overlooked one very important fact.
Soresh was smarter.
It was all the advantage he would need.
"Mug of lum for your thoughts, kid?" Han asked, joining Luke at the galley's small table. He slid a foaming glass toward Luke, but Luke waved it away. Han shook his head, then gulped it down himself, draining the glass in two swallows. "You look like you could use some distraction."
"I could use some privacy," Luke muttered, but he wasn't about to get that any time soon. The Millennium Falcon was full to capacity, and more. Five humans, two droids, and a Wookiee were proving to be more than even the Falcon could handle. At least as far as Luke was concerned. But maybe that was just because he was stuck sharing his bunk with Div and Ferus. Div's permanent glower made it clear that he would rather be somewhere—anywhere—else. And Ferus…well, Luke trusted him, even liked him, but there was something uncomfortably intense about the man's stare. It was like he could see right through to the center of Luke—and was judging whether Luke was worthy.
Worthy of what, Luke didn't know.
"Smile, kid," Han recommended. "The good guys won, the bad guys are two meters under. Not bad for a day's work, eh?"
"Not bad," Luke agreed, but his heart wasn't in it.
X-7 was dead. The man who'd betrayed him, who'd tried to kill him again and again was gone. And a major Imperial base was gone with him. Han was right, it was time to celebrate. Not to stare moodily into space, as he'd been doing for the last several hours.
"So what is it?" Han asked. He leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the table. Luke wondered how it would feel to be Han, to float through life without a care in the world. No ties, no responsibilities, no burdens—no fear.
Luke couldn't imagine.
He shrugged. "I'm just wondering what's next."
"Next?" Han grinned. "Next we get ourselves back to Yavin 4 and breathe some nice, clean, Imperial-free air. We stop looking over our shoulders wondering when some crazy assassin's going to shoot you from behind a tree. And I wouldn't mind a nice big juicy nerf steak while we're at it."
"I mean after that," Luke explained. "X-7's not the end of it. There's never an end of it." There never would be, not until the Empire had fallen. Life had become one battle after another, one death after another. He had told himself that something would change once X-7 was dead.
He was tired.
"You can't think about that kind of thing," Han said. "Forget about what might happen, and—"
"Easy for you to say!" Luke exploded. " Everything's easy for you. But some of us actually care about the Rebellion, and about…other people," he finished lamely, reluctant to name names. "We can't just dash off to some other part of the galaxy when things don't go our way."
Han stood up, his face red. "Listen, kid, I don't know who you've been talking to, but nothing about my life is easy. And if you weren't such a—" He stopped himself and drew in a deep breath. "You know the difference between you and me, kid?"
Luke sighed. "I'm sure you're going to tell me."
Han slapped Luke on the back. Hard. "Right you are." He sat down again. "You think I've got nothing on my mind? I'll tell you what I've got: a bounty on my head worth more credits than you'll see in your