Star Wars_ X-Wing 01_ Rogue Squadron - Michael A. Stackpole [73]
Ooryl handed the Shistavanen wolfman a carbine. “You know how to use this?”
Shiel’s whispered laugh sounded like a growl. “Death marks don’t come with the rain.”
Corran stripped off one of his gunbelts and shoved it at Gavin. “You can fire a blaster?”
The youth nodded, his face pale in the light from beneath the door. “Don’t know if I’ll hit anything, though.”
“Point and shoot. And shoot. And shoot.” Corran looked over at the two aliens. “Since you both can navigate in the dark, and since your coloration makes you hard to spot, I think you should head out and around to the hangar.” He passed Shiel two of the spare clips from his belt. “We’ll work our way in through the center here and try to attract their attention. If you get a clue to where their ship is …”
The hall light went out.
“Uh-oh.” Gavin shucked the pistol from its holster and the power selection lever clicked.
“Leave it on kill, kid.” Corran pointed to the window. “Go, you two. Flank them.”
Wordlessly Corran turned and scuttled over to the door. Reaching up he turned the knob and opened it a crack. He couldn’t see anything in the dark, but he did hear the squeak of hinges farther along the hallway. He touched the medallion he wore once for luck, then pulled open the door, stepped into the hallway, and fired a burst.
Two bolts caught one stormtrooper in the chest and tossed him backward into another trooper. The dead man’s finger jerked his carbine’s trigger, sending a line of bolts down the hallway. Corran dove to the right, slamming his shoulder into the wall avoiding them. Red light flashed back out of the doorway near the head of the hall, reminding Corran of the flare in the eyeplate of the first trooper he had killed. In an instant the Corellian knew the room contained a third stormtrooper and that at least one of the squadron’s pilots lay dead in bed.
Corran’s second burst knocked down the stormtrooper emerging from beneath the Imp corpse. Corran thought he went down hard enough to be dead, but the little votive fires lit in the floors and walls by the stray blaster bolts didn’t supply enough light for him to be certain. Then the trooper in the room at the head of the hallway emerged and, as if the trooper’s mirror image, Gavin came through the doorway of his room.
“Gavin, no!”
The farm boy triggered one shot while the trooper filled the hallway with a steady stream of fire. Corran hit his trigger and scythed the muzzle back and forth across the hallway. He heard Gavin grunt and fall behind him. His own shots cut the legs out from under the stormtrooper. The last bolt blasted through the square eyeplate and bubbled the armor at the back of the man’s head.
The doors all along the hallway swung open. Nearest to him Corran saw the Twi’lek. “Gavin’s down. Help him. Stormtroopers are here in the base.”
Nawara Ven stared at him. “How did they find …”
“I don’t know. The place is rigged to blow. Get everyone clear.” Corran sprinted down the hallway, leaping over the trio of dead stormtroopers. He stripped the power pack from the carbine and slapped a new one into it. As he neared the hangar he heard plenty of blaster fire. The semitransparent plastic strips hung over the doorway showed a lot of shots heading out to converge on two points in the darkness, which told Corran that Shiel and Ooryl had attracted plenty of attention with their flanking maneuver. Shooting coming from either side of the door, too.
Corran fished one of the explosive cylinders from a belt pouch and set the timer for five seconds. He punched his thumb down on the arming button. Glancing up he located what he saw as the largest concentration of shots heading out at his comrades. Six. Looks good to me.
Corran stepped through the plastic curtain and let the arming button come up, starting the timer. He slid the explosive cylinder across the smooth ferrocrete surface toward the knot of commandos. Three, two, one!