Star Wars_ X-Wing 03_ The Krytos Trap - Michael A. Stackpole [94]
Wedge turned his vibroblade off and tucked it into the top of his right boot. “A warrior does not hold another warrior responsible for the actions of a merchant.” He turned and pointed to the Alliance ships with his left hand. “On those ships I have gifts from my warriors to yours, offered in spirit shared by warriors.”
Tal’dira clapped Wedge on both shoulders. “There is much honor in you, Wedgan’tilles, and in your Rogue Squadron. I will be most pleased if, while the merchants scurry about unloading and loading our ships, you will continue to join me in Twi’janii.” Looping a lekku over Wedge’s shoulders, Tal’dira pointed at the musicians. “Play for our guests, play the best you ever have. You are playing for the pleasure of warriors now, and nothing less than the best will do.”
25
Corran’s mouth felt like a desert, and it wasn’t just because of the dust created by working the grater. He’d been planning his little experiment so he could test his theory about the prison’s orientation for the last two days, and was fairly certain that what he had in mind would work perfectly. Despite his confidence, he’d hesitated, telling himself he’d wait for the rock that would work the best.
He’d found the rock on the grate. It had something of a clamshell shape—momentarily reminding him of Emtrey’s head. It fit easily in his palm and would fly well. It had enough mass to it to make his throw possible, and yet had a narrow enough cross-section and dark enough color that it wouldn’t easily be seen in the cavern.
His mouth was dry because the fear coiling in his belly was sucking all the moisture out of him. He couldn’t think of what he had to be afraid of. His life couldn’t get any worse. He was locked in the highest security prison the Empire had ever known. Most people had never even heard of Lusankya, and most of those who had thought it was a rumor. Even during his time on the Corellian Security Force he’d only heard passing references to it. Beyond believing that it existed and was not a good place, he’d known nothing about it.
Corran caught other prisoners in his work group looking at him, and in their expectant glances he found the source of his fear. I’m afraid of being wrong and disappointing them. Only Jan and Urlor knew what he intended to do, but a number of other prisoners had been recruited to stage the distraction that would allow him to act. They had figured out he was going to be doing something related to escape, but they had no clue what it was, nor did they expect to be told. Despite their ignorance, they were all enthused with the idea of helping him out. Hopes they had long since abandoned were being revived by his escape attempt.
Corran closed his fist around the stone. This had better work.
He looked over at Urlor who, in turn, nodded to two men working with the smaller sledgehammers. One of them brought his sledgehammer down on the ground hard, then loosened his grip so the tool cartwheeled away. The handle grazed another man, who screamed, clutched at his shin, and started hopping around madly, all the while swearing he was going to kill the clumsy oaf who let go of the hammer. The workers backed away from the careening hammer and the two men, then started shouting encouragement to them in hopes of goading them into a fight.
Corran retreated along with the others, then stopped when Urlor and a knot of three prisoners screened him from the guards. He looked at the rock, gave it a kiss, then hauled back and hurled it up toward the apex of the ceiling, thirty meters away. Come on, come on!
Corran’s theory had been simple. If the prison was oriented upside-down, then gravity generators would be operating beneath his feet to keep him in place. The generators were clearly strong enough at this surface to hold him to it, but the farther he got from them, the weaker their