Soldier for the Empire (15 page)

Kyle set the structure on the roof and peered into the pitch-black duct. He patted his belt, found the glow rod, and pulled it free. The ladder was obvious. The agent turned, stuck the light between his teeth, and lowered himself into the shaft. He found a rung with his feet, tested the metal with his weight, and started his descent.

The light wavered back and forth across bare metal as Kyle sank into the darkness. He was committed now - and it was literally do or die.

Jan had retrieved her satchel from the apartment and used most of the contents to build a tidy little bomb. She buried the device near the north side of the security fence. The explosion would take place at precisely 2145 and should be sufficient to draw at least some of the surface forces away from the main complex. Then, at 2200 hours she would pass over that exact spot in the Moldy Crow, hose the area down, and head for the pickup point. It was not an especially fancy plan. But it should be sufficient to the purpose.

Jan was about to enter the Crow's belly when movement caught her eye. Pole-mounted lights bathed the area directly in front of the terminal. The local customs agent was there, as were half a dozen stormtroopers. The official waved a piece of paper and yelled something unintelligible. The Imperials turned, looked in Jan's direction, and started her way.

Jan ran up the ramp, hit "retract," and made for the cockpit. The battle was about to begin.

Kyle saw a large white numeral 1 and knew he had gone far enough. The ladder continued downward through a man- sized hole. Kyle stepped onto the grating provided for that purpose. The access hatch, also marked with a big white 1, stood in front of him. There would be guards on this level, lots of them. Odom had emphasized that.

Kyle drew his blaster, took a deep breath, and touched the entry plate. The door slid open, a commando appeared, and Kyle fired. The Imperial staggered, fired a shot into the ceiling, and fell. It happened so quickly there was no time to be afraid.

Kyle holstered his hand weapon, grabbed the Imperial's assault rifle, and started down the hall. The lights were relatively dim and the walls were bare. The agent knew that he had two main allies: surprise and speed. The trick was to make maximum use of both. The left-hand wall led to a door, a rather important door, one he would return to. There were other things to do first, however. An operations room appeared to the right, an Imperial moved toward the hall, and Kyle fired.

Jan bit her lip as the drives came online, quickly followed by the ship's navigation, weapons, and life-support systems. The emergency start-up sequence was fast, but not as fast as she wanted it to be.

The stormtroopers' commander saw the ramp retract, heard the drives start to wind, and ordered his men to fire. They obeyed and the Crow's shields flashed as the energy bolts struck.

Repulsors flared as the fighter lifted off, and the commander gulped as the bow swung his way. To the soldier's credit he was still there, still firing his nearly useless pistol, when the belly gun cut him in half.

The commando looked surprised, tried to say something, and fell. A pair of officers turned in Kyle's direction, fumbled for their side arms, and crumpled as Kyle shot them. He mounted the platform, checked for ammo, and took what he could.

A quick glance confirmed the first door to his left, another door to his right, and a hall straight ahead. Which strategy should he pursue? Check the hall to eliminate whatever opposition might be hiding there? Or try the first door - followed by the second?

The decision was made for him when a commando appeared at the far end of the hallway and opened fire. Kyle fired in return, saw the Imperial fall, and felt blaster fire fan the side of his face. A second commando, this one backed by an officer, triggered a three-shot burst.

Kyle ducked, went to automatic, and saw the Imperials fall. Concerned that there could be more where those came from, the agent moved up the corridor, grabbed some loose power paks, and followed the hall to the left. The communications center was clear. Kyle checked, assured himself the hall was empty, and returned the way he had come.

A quick turn to the right brought him to the durasteel door with illuminated panels. Odom claimed the red key was required in order to open it, but what if his friend was wrong? Kyle approached the door, touched the access panel, and waited for something to happen. Nothing did.

Kyle was disappointed, but there was nothing to do but retrace his steps, position himself in front of the second door, and prepare for the worst. Once through, he would dash to the other side of a courtyard, open a portal, jump on a turbolift, enter the security station, and grab the key. All under fire. Not a pleasant prospect. The agent touched the control panel and the door slid open.

Jan saw the last stormtrooper fall, turned to port, and headed for the TIE fighters. If she could incapacitate some or all of the pursuit ships, the odds against a successful extraction would fall from totally impossible to very unlikely, which she saw as one heck of an improvement.

The agent fed power to the Crow's repulsors which put another three meters between the hull and the tarmac. All the Imperial pilots were running for their ships by now. Easy pickings if not for the fact that one of the fighters had wobbled off the ground. The ship was pointed in the right direction. Jan could imagine the officer's frustration as he attempted to coax full power from still-cold engines and bring weapons systems online.

Jan forced herself to wait while the Crow stabilized, her targeting systems beeped readiness, and her cannon indicators glowed green. Both pilots fired at the same moment. The Imperial pilot's shot was too high. Jan's hit the TIE fighter head on, detonated a full load of fuel, and blew the enemy vessel apart. The entire spaceport was lit by the resulting flames.

The remaining pursuit ships were rocked by flying shrapnel, bathed in fiery fuel, and torn by Jan's cannon fire. The extraction had begun.

Two stormtroopers stood with their backs to the door. Kyle spent a fraction of a second considering whether it was ethical to shoot them from behind, then fired as one of them started to turn. He nailed the second guard as well, moved through the hatch, and felt the door close behind him.

It was dark in the courtyard. Sheer walls rose ahead of and behind him. Two sets of ghostly white armor appeared to his right. They fired and Kyle fired in return. His weapon was on automatic now, consuming energy at a prodigious rate, but equalizing the odds. The imperials fell and blaster fire slashed from above.

Kyle turned, spotted four troopers on the walkway above, and flinched as a bolt singed his shoulder. Logic dictated that this was it, the end of his life, since no one could shoot that straight or fast . . . Unless - the thought acted like a trigger. Time slowed and his senses grew more acute. The Force was like a river that carried all before it. Those who lived in harmony with its currents were strengthened - while those who stood in opposition were tossed like chips in a flood.

Kyle stood within an eddy, chose his target, and fired. Not a long burst, but a single, perfectly aimed shot. The bolt found its mark, as did the rest.

Kyle felt pressure from the right, turned, and fired again. The stormtrooper threw his arms out as if crucified and landed on his back.

The agent exchanged his nearly empty assault weapon for one snatched from the ground and ran for one of two steel reinforced doors. It opened to his touch and his heart lurched as the Imperials swiveled in his direction. Was there no end to them?

Surprised, and apparently unaware of the battle that had been fought in the courtyard, the troopers fell while still trying to bring their weapons to bear. Kyle grabbed their reserve power paks and scanned the room. There was only one way to go - the lift.

The agent checked his weapon, touched the control panel, and aimed at the lift door. When it opened he expected to see a full squad of stormtroopers armed with everything up to and including rocket launchers. The lift opened and the platform was empty.

Relieved, but still apprehensive about what he would encounter one level up, Kyle entered and turned his back to the wall. It was a short ride but Kyle was ready when it was over. The officer, a thin man with a badly scarred face, died first, and was quickly followed by a trooper who asked for his name, and a commando armed with a doughnut.

The key lay within inches of the officer's fingertips. It pulsed with internal light and felt warm in Kyle's pocket. The trip down was mercifully uneventful as was the quick dash across the dimly lit courtyard. Lights marked the door as did the bodies sprawled in front of it. It opened smoothly and closed behind him.

A quick check of the control area on his left, and the hallway on his right, was sufficient to assure Kyle that his earlier adversaries remained undiscovered. Or were they? The impulse that caused him to look upward came at the same exact moment as the blaster bolt that blistered the paint beside him:

Kyle classified himself as an idiot for not noticing the upper-level window the first time he had passed that way, nailed the sniper with a sustained blast, and heard an alarm start to bleat. So much for surprise - speed was the single remaining ally.

The agent dashed forward, approached the door that refused to open the first time he tried it, and inserted the key. The door opened, a commando raised his weapon, and Kyle struggled to respond.

The low-level processor counted off the final seconds, released current down a wire, and unwittingly destroyed itself. The resulting explosion didn't cause much damage, but did throw rocks into the air, and made an imposing boom. The motion, combined with the sound, set off no less than five perimeter alarms. Searchlights swept the night, flares popped high in the air, and security droids quartered the ground.

The officer-of-the-day, or night as the case might be, a major named Horst, had just received word of an intruder and had been assured that the matter could and would be taken care of. What he didn't know was that the officer who had offered those assurances was now dead.

Thinking that the intruder was being handled, Horst decided to deal with the perimeter alarms himself. The duty AT-ST and two armored vehicles were ordered to respond, along with two squads of commandos. A Rebel raid perhaps? Horst hoped so. He grinned like the wolf he thought he was.

Kyle knew he had been a hair too slow, a tiny bit overconfident, and waited to die. The commando, certain of his kill, squeezed the trigger, and squeezed it again. Nothing happened. Stumped, and curious as to the nature of the problem, the Imperial checked his safety. It was the last mistake he ever made.

Kyle stepped over the body and entered the lift. Blue- white light poured down from above, and a square illuminated the floor. As before, the turbolift carried Kyle upward more quickly that he really wanted to go, and opened onto a spacious lobby. An open window ran along the opposite wall. Knowing he'd have to turn his back to it in order to explore the rest of the area, Kyle approached it.

A single glance was enough to establish that the area beyond was the walkway from which four troopers had fired into the courtyard.

Two stormtroopers, just arrived, stood over their bodies. Kyle shot them, turned, and went to full auto as more Imperials appeared from the right.

Luck, inertia, and adrenaline were all with him as the troopers staggered and fell. The stink of ozone and burned flesh filled his nostrils as he sensed motion and fired again. The droid, caught in the middle of an errand, beeped pitifully and scurried for safety.

Kyle, frightened by his own reflexes, resolved to be more careful. Troopers were one thing - civilian workers another. He hadn't seen any thus far, but he knew they existed. Nothing would atone for an innocent life lost.

Kyle took a moment to reload and pick up some power paks before activating the red wall switch. A glassless window overlooked the downstairs hall. Kyle looked down, saw a section of wall slide upward, and realized how vulnerable he'd been earlier. A single commando could have potted him from above.

Kyle considered the jump versus the lift, and settled on the jump. It wasn't too far, and it would save precious time. He slipped his arm through the assault weapon's sling, swung through the opening, and hung from his fingertips. It required a conscious act of will to let go.

Jan waited until what she judged to be the perfect moment, brought the Crow out of the ravine, and locked the ATST in her sights.

The Crow's heat signature bloomed against the cool night air, and the AT-ST pilot was quick and looking for trouble. He made a half step to the left, fired his side- mounted blaster cannons, and smiled as the bolts went home.

Jan grimaced as coherent energy punched through the lighter's shields and triggered a cacophony of alarms. She fired in return, urged the ship forward, and redoubled her efforts. Twin lines of blaster fire converged on the walker's command module and something exploded. Light frosted the area as debris soared and tumbled away. The walker's legs, left standing alone, fell on a scout car.

Major Horst, horrified by what he'd seen, and more than a little frightened, ordered a retreat. He was a little too late. Jan, her eyes narrowed with determination, renewed her fire. The command car made an excellent target.

Kyle ducked into the heretofore protected area, "felt" the trooper before he actually saw him, and aimed for the spot where the imperial would appear. The soldier obliged, staggered as if drunk, and fell facedown on the floor.

Cautious now, and hyper-aware, Kyle approached a waist- high wall. He looked over and down, spotted two troopers on a gently curved staircase, and fired one shot at each. They fell and tumbled down.

Satisfied that the stairs were momentarily safe, Kyle placed his back to the core around which the stairs had been wound, and moved to the right. Speed was of the essence, he knew that. He took the stairs two at a time. He heard a shout, followed by a wild spray of blaster fire, as a trooper discovered his comrades and sought revenge.

Kyle crouched low so as to present the smallest possible target, eased his way forward, shot the Imperial in the legs, and raced on past.