Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [42]
He paralleled the railing, rounding its corner, down to the far wall. Peering over the rail, he saw the Wookiee’s big blue eyes edging up over the opposite railing. Halfway between them and several meters below, the gun crew was making final adjustments on the heavy blaster and its tripod mount. In a moment they would be ready to activate the weapon’s deflector shield; going after them would then become an almost hopeless venture, and the drop chutes would be inaccessible. Apprehension would be a matter of time. One of the Espos was bending even now to throw on the shield.
Han stood, drew, fired. The man who had been about to activate the shield slumped, clasping a burned leg. But one of the others, with no regard for niceties like fire-discipline, spun and sprayed a steady stream of destructive energy from a short riot gun. The riot gun’s fire blasted material from the walls and railing; the Espo slewed the weapon around carelessly, searching for his target.
Han was forced to duck back out of the way as the rain of energy lashed through the air, striking walls, ceiling, and most things in between. That innocent bystanders might’ve been hurt didn’t seem to have entered into the Espo’s calculations.
But the Espo gave a cry and fell, his finger easing off the trigger, accompanied by the metallic twang of Chewbacca’s bowcaster. Han looked over the rail again and saw the second man slumped over the first, brought down by one of the short quarrels from the Wookiee’s weapon. Now Chewbacca stood, jacking the foregrip of his bowcaster down to recock it and strip another round off its magazine.
The third gun crewman kicked the bodies of his fellows out of the way while firing wildly with his pistol and yelling for help. Han shot him just as the Espo’s hands were closing on the heavy blaster’s grips. Chewbacca was already over the balcony railing. Han, straddling the railing on his side, called, “Rekkon, get ’em moving!” He pushed himself off.
He missed his footing and fell to all fours, then raced to help his partner throw assorted Espos off the blaster cannon. Torm leaped down, landing lightly for all his weight, and Atuarre came after him, all grace and form. Her cub launched himself off the rail, gathered his limbs and tail in for a somersault, and landed next to her. Atuarre slapped him on his way, as if to say this was no place to show off, even for an acrobatic Trianii.
Last to come was Rekkon, moving skillfully, as if this were something he did all the time. Han wondered for a half-second about this versatile university don who never seemed to lose track of the problems at hand. In sending all the others ahead, Rekkon made sure no potential spy remained behind, to be tempted by an unguarded back.
Torm stopped short of the drop chutes, luckily for him. “The fields have been shut off!” he shouted. Rekkon and Atuarre were with him in a moment, fumbling at the emergency panel beside the chute opening. Rekkon’s sturdy fingers closed around the panel’s grille, and he yanked it away without apparent effort.
Calls and a general hubbub could be heard in the upper corridors. Han squirmed himself down behind the blaster cannon, setting his feet on the pegs of its tripod, and switched on the deflector shield. “Heads up!” he warned his companions. “The party’s starting!”
A squad of Espos, wearing combat armor and carrying rifles and riot guns, burst out onto the balcony above, fanning out along the rail, and started firing down. Their bolts splashed in polychrome waves from the cannon’s shield. Torm, Rekkon, and the others, directly behind Han as they worked on the drop-chute panel, were protected, too, for now. Chewbacca stood behind his partner, firing his bowcaster whenever he had an opening. Soon his weapon was