Star Wars_ X-Wing 02_ Wedge's Gamble - Michael A. Stackpole [114]
Mirax looked out through the windscreen. “Where are we going?”
“Zekka picked out a location for us to meet if things didn’t go as planned. We’ll link up there and then see who else has survived this debacle.”
As Inyri whisked them along a twisty, mind-boggling course through the city, ascending and descending through levels and around buildings, Corran continued considering suspects. In the back of his mind he knew the exercise was futile because there was no way he could prove his suspicions. He also knew that the first person on his suspect list, Zekka Thyne, would also be the last person on it. Corran knew Thyne had betrayed them, he knew it in his heart, and he didn’t really need proof for that conviction.
His being placed in the position of lookout was perfect from the Imp point of view. He protested that he wanted something more important but Vorru forced him to keep that job. Even though I thought letting him organize lookouts was a bad idea, I was relieved since I wouldn’t have him with a gun in a place where my back might be turned. Heck, I was even glad he was disappointed with his assignment. Unfortunately, without proof I’ll have a hard time convincing others he’s the Sithspawn who gave us up to the Imps.
Inyri swooped the airspeeder down and brought it in through a small round portal on the shadowed midlevel of a building. A round plug of a door rolled in place after they entered. Lights came on in a hangar, revealing it to be empty except for a racked speeder bike off to the right. Inyri brought the airspeeder to a stop, letting it settle on the hangar floor.
“I guess we got here before the others.” With her hands on the top of the windscreen, Inyri pulled herself up out of the airspeeder. “I hope they make it.”
“I can vote for that.” Corran clambered out of the back of the airspeeder and walked over to the speeder bike. He pressed a hand against the cold metal of its engine housing, then turned as the doorway into the interior of the building opened.
“You’ll want to get away from the speeder bike.” Zekka Thyne emerged from the building with a blaster carbine leveled in Corran’s direction. “Get your hands up. Hmmm. I can see why you security types like saying that, such a feeling of power. You, too, Terrik. Inyri, take their blasters.”
Mirax frowned. “What’s going on here?”
Corran raised his hands to shoulder height as Inyri collected his gun. “Patches sold us out.”
Inyri shook her head. “Impossible. He hates the Imps as much as you do—as much as any of us do.”
Corran jerked a thumb toward the speeder bike. “The engine’s cold. We got no warning because he wasn’t there. Didn’t want to take a chance the Imps would shoot him up.”
“I knew you’d figure it out, just the same way I knew they wouldn’t get you.” Thyne sneered at him. “You and your father always were lucky. That’s the only way you got me, your old man was luckier than I was.”
“It wasn’t luck. My father was smarter than you were. He still is.”
“He’s dead.”
“My point stands.” Corran shrugged. “What did you figure you’d tell Vorru after everyone else got wiped out in the raid? Or did you figure it wouldn’t matter?”
Mirax slowly nodded. “He’s got a plan to get away, Corran. He’s going to sell you to his Imperial contact for safe passage and a new identity on a new world.”
Thyne’s smile broadened to hideous proportions. “Close, very close, except in one detail.” The carbine rose to shoulder height. “Kirtan Loor just wants a corpse.”
The whine of a single blaster shot filled the hangar and the bolt tinted everything with the color of blood. Thyne staggered, then slumped back against the wall. His legs collapsed and his carbine clattered to the ground. With both hands he tried to stem the steaming blood dribbling from his belly.
Corran looked over at Inyri, his gaze drawn to her because of the blaster pistol