Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [40]
The leader of the small band sat down. For a moment Han saw the strength and determination leave Rekkon’s features. Then it was back, that special vitality. “I suspected that was the case,” he admitted. “Engret would not forgo contact for days, no matter what. I trust your instincts in this completely, Atuarre. We must presume him to have been eliminated.”
He had said this with absolute finality. This wasn’t the first time he had come up against an unexplained disappearance. Han shook his head; on one side was the near-absolute power of the Authority, and on the other, nothing more substantial than friendship, than family ties. Han Solo, loner and realist, considered it a gross mismatch.
“How do we know he’s what he says he is?” Atuarre was demanding, pointing to Han.
Rekkon looked up. “Captain Solo and his first mate, Chewbacca, come to us by way of Jessa. I presume we all trust her aid and counsel? Good. We leave as soon as possible; I’m afraid there’ll be no time for luggage or arrangements. Or com-calls, for any of us.”
Atuarre took her cub’s paw-hand as Pakka studied Han and Chewbacca silently. “When do we go?”
Rekkon went back to Max, to find out just that. Just then the computer module’s photoreceptor came back on. “Got it!” he chirped. A translucent data plaque emerged from the slot at the terminal’s side.
Rekkon seized it eagerly. “Fine. Now we must match it against the Authority’s installations charts—”
“But that’s not all,” Max blurted.
Rekkon’s dense brows knit. “What more, Blue Max?”
“While I was in the system, I monitored it, you know, to get the feel. This intrusion is fun! Anyway, there’s a Security alert on in the building. I think it’s directed at this level. The Espos are moving into position.”
Atuarre hissed and pulled her cub closer. Torm’s face seemed impassive at first, but Han noticed a tic of anxiety along his jaw. Rekkon tucked the data plaque into his robes, and from them drew a big disrupter pistol. Han was already buckling on his gunbelt, as Chewbacca settled his ammo bandolier over his shoulder and threw the empty tool bag aside.
“Next time I fall for one of these tempting offers,” Han instructed his partner, “sit on me till the urge passes.”
Chewbacca growled that he definitely would.
Torm had taken a handgun from his tight pocket, and Atuarre had produced another from one of her belt pouches. Even the cub, Pakka, was armed; he pulled a toylike pistol from his belt.
“Max,” Rekkon said, “are you still in the network?” Max indicated he was. “Good. Now, look at deployment plans for alerts in this Center. At what corridors, junctions, and levels will the Espos be stationed?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Max answered, “but I could clear a way through them, if that’s what you want.”
That grabbed Han’s attention. “What’d that little fusebox say?”
The computer-probe elaborated. “The Security Policemen are all supposed to respond to alarms, it says here, and redeploy to cover any new trouble spots. I could just make enough alarms in other places and draw them away in different directions.”
“That may not get them all out of the way,” Han pointed out, “but it could sure thin out the opposition. Do it, Maxie.” Another thought struck him. “Wait a second. Can you fake alarms anywhere else?”
Max’s voice burst with pride. “Anywhere on Orron III, Captain. This network’s got so much capacity that they’ve hooked just about everything into it. Good cost reduction, but bad security, right, Captain?”
“No foolin’. Yeah, give it everything you’ve got: fires in the power plants, riots in the barracks, indecent exposure in the cafeteria, whatever appeals to you, all over the planet.” He was thinking that if there were a picket ship in orbit, she might also be kept busy by a rash of false alarms.
Bollux, who had remained silent during all this commotion, now came to the