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Again he waited. He knew he had gotten lucky, but he was able to convince himself that it wasn’t just luck that had saved him. In his time with the Corellian Security Force he had participated in countless searches for suspects. There came a point where he knew, in his gut, that the suspect had fled and his attention flagged. From what one of the storm-troopers had said, he concluded the library was the last room to be searched on that level; if so, the stormtrooper checking the cabinets was probably bored out of his mind.

Because he was bored, he got sloppy. Corran smiled and started breathing more normally. Good thing he had his helmet on, otherwise he would have been able to smell me.

He waited a little longer, even beyond the point where he wanted to crawl out of his skin. He fought against the panic rising in his heart. If I panic, I die. Cool. Calm. You’ve been in tighter situations before. Take it easy. He concentrated on breathing and waited for his pulse rate to go down, then slipped from the cabinet.

He found himself alone in the library. The lights in the xenoscape provided him ample illumination to find his way around, but he still wasn’t certain what he was looking for. He assumed it was too much to ask for any of the boxed datacard sets to contain plans that would allow him to escape the room. Still, he’d conducted enough searches of criminal strongholds to find it easy to imagine that one box of datacards might be a dummy that, when pulled out or tipped up on edge, would open the door to a secret hiding place or, better yet, the Moff’s bolt-hole.

It would have to be something obscure—something no one would ever choose to look at on purpose. With that as his search parameter, he found a lot of choices. The sheer variety of datacard collections impressed him. But each box he tried contained the appropriate datacards. At least I can improve my mind while trapped here. Given enough time, I could become the galaxy’s expert in all sorts of things, including worlds I’ve never heard of, like this Corvis Minor.

He pulled the slim box labeled The Complete History of Corvis Minor off the shelf and was disappointed when no secret door opened up. He was about to put it back when he noticed the weight didn’t seem quite right. He opened the box and dumped a compact holdout blaster into his hand. If a blaster is considered the complete history of Corvis Minor, I’m thinking it’s not a vacation spot.

He put the box away and checked the blaster’s power pack. A half-dozen shots. It probably won’t get through stormtrooper armor, but it can make them dive for cover.

Keeping the blaster in his hand, he continued his survey of the library. He found no more surprises and gave up hoping there was a history of Corvis Major that would contain something more substantial in terms of weaponry. Like an X-wing.

Frustrated by the lack of success of his search, he turned his attention to the datapads. He wasn’t sure the computers would be much more help than the library’s inventory had been, but he assumed he could get some basic information to help him out. Most dedicated datapads included basic information about their surroundings. Something as simple as a map showing the evacuation route in case of fire or rebel invasion would point him toward exits.

Provided I can get into the system. Had Whistler been with him, the droid could have sliced into the system with ease. While he did know a few things about codeslicing himself, he’d relied on Whistler’s skills so much that he could only perform rudimentary assaults on a system. If there’s a password for gaining access to the system, I’m blocked right there.

At the smaller of the desks he flicked the holopad on. He opened some of the drawers, looking for the sort of datacard that might contain password information, when a word appeared suspended above the holopad:

[INQUIRY]:

Corran’s smile blossomed. Whoever had last used the datapad had finished by turning off the holopad instead of logging off the computer.