Star Wars_ Tales From the Mos Eisley Cantina - Kevin J. Anderson [118]
Davin turned to 1047, his backup. “You’re right—there’s nothing here.”
“Let’s join the others.”
Davin merely grunted. He was in no hurry to witness another senseless killing. But what else could he do?
They stepped into the brilliant Tatooine sunlight, leaving the shady cantina behind. Davin started to suggest they continue the search for the missing droids on their own instead of joining the rest of the detachment, when the rest of Zeta squad marched around the corner in lockstep, completing their circuit of the perimeter.
Before Davin could say anything into his helmet microphone, he heard a shrill yell. It sounded like an outraged Jawa! How could he forget the high-pitched chatter from the little creatures that they had brutally executed?
Davin instantly crouched into a combat position, pulling up his rifle. A long-robed Jawa leaped from a hiding place in the middle of some space wreckage crashed in the middle of the square. The Jawa struggled with an oversized blaster, the weapon dwarfing the ridiculous-looking creature.
Finally aiming the blaster rifle at Zeta squad, the Jawa cut loose with one last shrill yell and squeezed the firing button—
Nothing happened. The Jawa howled with anger and surprise. He kept pushing the button. Everything happened so fast that Davin didn’t react.
Or maybe his instincts kept him from reacting, with all of the senseless killings he had witnessed …
“Crazy Jawa,” muttered 1047. The stormtrooper pulled out his blaster and flipped off a shot at the Jawa, still struggling with the weapon. The shot’s momentum sent the Jawa flying back against the wreckage. It slid to the dirt. “One less Jawa slime to bother us,” said 1047 as he holstered his blaster.
Davin stepped back in shock. What have we become? He had almost excused the Imperial stormtroopers for the way they indiscriminately killed the Jawas in their sandcrawler because of this so-called threat to the Emperor. But the moisture farmer, and now this latest act of violence … Davin couldn’t reconcile it. The only answer to these actions kept coming up the same, time after time: The Empire was basically evil. And he didn’t fit in.
But I can’t resign, he thought. So what can I do?
• • •
He seemed to walk forever in a daze with Zeta squad, when he heard a voice in his helmet speaker. “Trouble at Docking Bay Ninety-four—we’ve located the droids! All personnel, converge and assist!”
“Come on, Ten twenty-three!” said 1047. “Follow me!”
Davin clutched his blaster rifle and trotted after the white-armored man. His time on Tatooine had seemed like a dream—he didn’t know how long he had been onplanet, but he had been surviving off his suit rations and supplements for longer than he imagined it would be possible.
Captain Terrik’s voice came inside his helmet. “Capture the droids! The Rebels have them—don’t let them get away!”
Sounds of laser blasts ricocheted down the narrow streets. A crowd had gathered outside the docking bay; several peered over the crowd and tried to get a glimpse of what was going on.
1047 switched to his outside speaker: “Move aside—now!”
Davin blindly followed his backup, more confused than ever. Rebels? Why would the Rebel force be so blatant and try to escape now?
Running down the alley, they rounded a corner and came upon the firefight. A modified light freighter cruiser sat in the middle of the docking bay, its back hatch open. Davin caught a glimpse of a boy running up the ramp into the ship. A volley of laser blasts peppered the area.
A score of stormtroopers were scattered around, firing upon the light freighter. The air was filled with the searing sounds of laser blasts.
Davin was stunned to see that an athletic-looking man held the stormtroopers at bay—he fought at twenty-to-one odds! Was this man one of the