Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 02_ Shield of Lies - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [23]
“Threepio’s arm is beyond repair, given that we have no spare parts,” Lobot said. “Artoo is trying to free the lateral actuator and restore freedom of motion to Threepio’s head.” He nodded past Lando at the equipment grid, which Lando had towed away from the scene of the accident. “I need the tool kit.”
“In a moment,” Lando said. “What happened back there—have you thought about it?”
“I need the tool kit, Lando,” Lobot repeated, and moved to pass between Lando and the passage wall.
Lando reached out and caught Lobot’s forearm. “You were right about these passages. They’re getting ready to—” Something moved at the periphery of his vision, and Lando’s gaze flicked past Lobot to the droids, then past the droids to the growing glow where the passage bent out of sight. “Blast!” he exclaimed. “Get away from the wall. Artoo, look out!”
“What?” Lobot craned his head.
Using his grip on Lobot’s suit, Lando dragged him toward the center of the passage, just as the energy halo appeared at the horizon of their vision and sped toward them. It surrounded them for only a moment as it raced through on its course, but its passage made the hair rise on the back of Lando’s neck.
“It’s gone all the way around?”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t seem to have lost any strength at all,” Lobot said in wonder.
“No,” Lando said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. You were right. These are conduits—superconducting accumulators. Perhaps even some sort of gas-tube cascade generator.”
“For the weapons,” Lobot said slowly. “It has to be for the weapons.”
“That panel is the ballast, the source of the spark. Threepio created an arc path while it was building up to fire—probably prematurely. He may have caused the system to report a failure, buying us a little time as it resets.”
“The weapons are useless in hyperspace. That explains our reprieve.”
“It also answers your question about the panel—about why it showed up now,” Lando said. “Smart. She’s a smart lady. The last thing I do before I enter an unfriendly room is check my weapon.”
“Testing the integrity of the system. She must be getting ready—”
“Wait,” Lando said. “Listen.”
All at once, all around them, the ship began to groan and growl in a slow, deep voice.
Lando released Lobot and dove toward the equipment grid, wresting the sensor limpet from its restraints. The limpet was secured in a harness of silk line, with a single trailing cord ending in a loop.
“I have to do this now,” Lando said. “Artoo! Map! What’s the shortest way to the outer hull?”
Artoo’s reply was a squawk.
“Point out the direction—I can’t understand you!”
“He’s not answering you,” said Lobot. “He’s asking me why I’m not back with the tools yet.” He closed his eyes. The lights on his interface blinked at a furious rate. “Through there,” he said. “Eighteen meters. But I don’t know what’s between here and the hull.”
“I’ll tell you when I get back,” Lando said. He drew his blaster, burned a hole in the direction Lobot had pointed, and was gone.
With his thrusters holding his widely set feet against the outer bulkhead of the vagabond, Lando pointed the cutting blaster down between his legs and squeezed the actuator. A perfect circle of hull vanished in a puff of gray smoke, which was instantly sucked out through the opening.
The limpet had been floating freely, tethered to Lando’s left wrist. Now it strained at the end of a taut line, rocking as the compartment’s air rushed past it. Pocketing the blaster, Lando let the line play out through his gloved fingers until the limpet slipped through the opening. Only the cord on Lando’s wrist kept it from escaping completely into space.
Then he simply waited, watching the hull breach knit closed. When the opening had shrunk enough to prevent the limpet from being pulled back inside, Lando took up the slack and pulled the limpet back against the hull. Reaching through, he pressed