Star Wars_ X-Wing 05_ Wraith Squadron - Aaron Allston [89]
He’d just slammed that one home on the other side of the droid and locked it down, blocking Phanan from firing further, when Wedge and Kell emerged from the fab chamber.
Kell shouted, “We’re omega!” He waved the commandos toward the turbolift shaft. Grinder and Jesmin followed Phanan out of the op center and all scrambled into the turbolift shaft.
“What happens when that probe droid gets free?” Tyria asked.
“What?” said Kell.
“What?” said Wedge. He cupped a hand behind his ear.
She shouted, “Probe droid! Will get free!”
Kell shook his head and pulled a timer charge from his bag. “No. Get clear.”
“What if there are more?”
Grinder said, “They’re mine. Trust me.”
Kell shouted, “Six, open up the doors to the fourth and second levels as you go!”
Runt, pressing his sleeve against his nose to stop the flow of blood, nodded.
“Why have him open those doors?” Tyria asked. Realizing that Kell and Wedge were having trouble hearing, she repeated the question, shouting this time.
“Still have to plant charges on the support beams,” Kell answered, unnecessarily shouting. “Hold the top floor. If I’m not out in seven minutes, finish the evacuation.”
“If we’re not back,” Wedge corrected, also shouting. “You still need someone to guard your back.”
“Obviously so.” Kell grinned. He skidded the charge under the blockade of hauling carts. Its timer was already counting down from ten.
They ran.
Kell wasted no time. On the fourth basement level and then the second, he ran from support pillar to support pillar, slapping his explosives in place, keying in the countdown, and activating the charges, all at a record pace.
Wedge kept alert for more probe droids, but none appeared. He thought he might have glimpsed something rising through the turbolift shaft, but it was gone before he could sight in on it.
Probe Droid Al rose into place, hovering in the shaft at ground level, then floated forward through the door.
Grinder, his back to the wall just beside the turbolift, hit the button on the wall.
The turbolift door, its safety governors disabled, slammed down atop the probe droid, crushing its spherical body nearly flat. Lights dimmed in its sensor eyes. Sparks shot out of new tears and rents in its surface.
Grinder raised the turbolift door and smashed it down twice more, then raised and locked it. He stared in satisfaction at the damage he had done. “Do I get to paint a probe droid silhouette?”
Phanan snorted. “Sure, on your datapad.”
“Quiet,” Jesmin said. “Nine and Eleven report we have new arrivals. A flatbed skimmer full of troops and two TIE fighters just landed on the pad outside.”
· · ·
Outside, just beside the hangar door, Janson lay perfectly still and whispered into his comlink. “I count thirty or thirty-five troops. Some of them are deploying around toward the front; I assume they’ll be hitting us from two sides. The TIE fighters are oriented so they can fire in through the hangar door, but the troops back here aren’t approaching yet. I think they’re waiting for the others to get in position. When I give you the go, I want you to open the hangar door just wide enough for me to get in.”
“Acknowledged,” said Jesmin.
Donos did not call in with unnecessary queries about what he should be doing. Janson was sure he would not announce his presence unless ordered to or circumstances meant he had to fire to save a fellow Wraith. In the meantime, he’d provide additional intelligence information when needed.
A minute later, one of the infantry commanders waved forward. He and a half-dozen men, armed with rifles and wearing helmets and breastplates that looked like cast-off stormtrooper scout armor, advanced in a half crouch.
Janson shot the commander in the faceplate. The man dropped, dead before he knew he was hit. The half-dozen men looked at him for a moment. Janson shot a second man in the chest. Then, as the survivors began to drop