Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [242]
Bit by bit the arm was levered away from Chewbacca’s throat. The Wookiee showed his fangs in savage triumph, and burst free of the hold. But Egome Fass wasn’t done with tests of strength. He lunged at his antagonist for a deadly hug. Chewbacca accepted it.
They staggered back and forth, first the Wookiee’s feet leaving the bridge, then the enforcer’s. Both applied their full brawn in fearsome constriction. Egome Fass’s feet were lifted clear of the bridge and stayed that way as the Wookiee held him aloft, muscles standing out like cables under Chewbacca’s pelt. The enforcer’s struggle became more frantic, less aggressive. Panic crept into his movements. Then there was a crack, and Egome Fass’s body slumped. Chewbacca let go, and the enforcer slid limply to the bridge’s surface. The Wookiee had to rest a paw on a support to steady himself.
Han teetered over with the rocket launcher over one shoulder. “You’re getting decrepit; two tries to put away a bum like that!” He laughed and affectionately punched the Wookiee’s shoulder.
“Enough, enough!” Skynx protested, tugging at Han’s red-seamed trouser leg. “The robots are ready to attack; Bollux said we must be across the bridge.”
Han didn’t know how much chance the labor ’droid stood of stopping the steel horde, but he and the others obeyed Skynx’s pleas. There was no one to stand with them at the end of the bridge. The miners who had reached it had gone either to put up barricades in the buildings or to find safe places among the rocks.
Han stopped as soon as his boots were off the bridge. He sat on the ground, looking back across the bridge. “We might as well face it here.”
No one made any objection. Badure gave Hasti one of his pistols, while Chewbacca fitted a new magazine into his bowcaster. Hasti put one arm around Han’s neck and kissed his cheek. “That’s for a good try,” she explained.
Bollux crouched in the jumble of boulders on the far side of the bridge. The mining-operations site was now completely razed. Machinery was burned and buildings were flattened, and no living thing could be seen.
The Corps Commander had mustered all his forces with high-pitched summonses. Other resistance had been crushed; all that remained was to annihilate the barracks area on the far side of the bridge, the successful completion of their first combat action in generations.
Bollux waited and didn’t try to interfere. That would have been useless, he knew; they weren’t so different from him. The machines gathered around their commander by the hundreds. The Corps Commander indicated the way with a long metal arm, gleaming like a statue of death in the blue-white light. He stumped toward the bridge, and his awesome troops crowded after him. And as the war-robots drew abreast of him, about to step onto the bridge, Bollux triggered the command signalry he had brought from the podium.
The Corps Commander fell into a marching step as the signals reached him. He didn’t question them; the commands were automatic, military, geared to a segment of him that didn’t doubt or ponder. Such was his construction.
Behind their commander the other war-robots responded to the signal as well, falling into ranks of ten, in step with their leader. Funneled onto the bridge, their ranks filled it from side to side. They stepped with meticulous precision. Metal feet tramped; arms swung in time.
“Will it work?” Bollux asked his friend.
Blue Max, tuned in with both their audio pickups, listened carefully, cautioning the ’droid not to bother him at this critical point. At Max’s instruction, Bollux adjusted the marching tempo, matching the forced vibration of the robots’ tread to the bridge’s own natural frequency, creating a powerful resonance. The war-robots marched in to do battle for an overlord generations dead. The bridge began to quake, dust rising and forming a haze with the unified footfalls. Timbers reverberated, joints and stress members strained; the