[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(110)

“We’re not going to run into company ahead, are we?”

“Not unless we’re really unlucky.” Fett pounded along behind Mirta. “They only staff these places in civil emergencies.”

“Like a war?”

“Yeah, that’d qualify

Mirta had her hand blaster held at shoulder level as she sprinted, a testimony to the benefits of unfashionably flat boots and sensible clothing. “They’ll have a real emergency on their hands if they get in the way.”

Doors ahead of them opened automatically and bright lights flared into life on the ceiling. If this was all set to trigger when staff entered, then they had to he alone down here, or the lights would already be on.

Alone except for the guards chasing them, of course. Had to be guards. Han was tuned to the sound of guards’ boots. Fett came to a halt as they entered a lobby with six doors leading from it. Three were marked TRAFFIC CONTROL, WATER & POWER, and CENTRAL E.M. CELL. The other three weren’t marked at all.

“Which one?” said Han.

Mirta stepped behind them, blaster sweeping an arc, while Fett froze. Han realized he was focusing on some display in his helmet’s HUD.

“Two exits via the main E.M. room here, but if we get stuck there are hatches to accessible vents from the other rooms.” He indicated his jet pack. “I don’t do vents.”

“E.M. room here we come-“

The running footsteps behind were much, much louder now. A bolt of blasterfire spattered plaster ten meters from them. Fett broke off and extended his left arm, sending a long jet of flame down the passage behind them that made a loud ha-whompp sound and blew billows of gray smoke back at them. Curses and shouts rang down the passage. The flamethrower had slowed their pursuers but not stopped them.

“Move it,” said Fett.

The E.M. door didn’t open automatically. Mirta hit the heel of her hand on the square red key at the side a couple of times and the doors parted. They were already halfway into the room before Han realized that it was full of desks in rows with comlinks on each of them. The walls were covered completely in holomaps and display boards; the place was ready to handle whatever disaster hit Coronet when the warning sirens sounded.

A bewildered man in a white shirt looked up from a datapad and stared at them.

“You’re early,” he said. “We weren’t due to staff the-oh, boy-“

A blue streak of blasterfire spat from the doorway and Han, Fett, and Mirta fired at the same time, driving back two security guards. The man ducked, arms covering his head, while they traded blaster bolts and Fett shot out the doors’ lock panel, sending the two halves slamming shut.

“Health and safety inspection,” said Han as the terrified man flattened himself against the wall. “Keep up the good work.”

They burst through one of two doors marked EMERGENCY EXIT and were back in a yellow-lit corridor again, running for their lives. It sloped uphill. Han really noticed that now. His thigh muscles screamed for a rest. Behind them, there was the sound of blaster bolts smashing through doors and the pounding of those boots again. The guards didn’t give up easily.

“Your jet pack isn’t going to be much use to you down here, pal,” said Han.

Fett didn’t break his pace. He got to the end of the passage and spun around, nearly knocking Han against the wall. Then he bent forward at ninety degrees to the ground, hunched his shoulders, and tapped at the panel on his left forearm.

“You reckon?” he said, breathless. “Mind the backwash, Solo.”

A shwoosh of hot air and a blinding flash of yellow light nearly flattened Han as the small missile on Fett’s jet pack skimmed the back of his helmet and shot down the corridor, trailing vapor. The explosion deafened him for a few seconds. Fett grabbed his shoulder and shoved him ahead.

“You know how much these MM-nines cost?” Fett grumbled.

Han’s ears were ringing. “There’s got to be safety regulations on that thing.” But he could hear the thuds and cracks of falling rubble. They ran.

Ahead, a patch of light that was brighter than the yellow gloom of the tunnel kept Han running at an automatic, animal level. Escape. Just escape. Worry about everything else later. He’d expected Mirta to be halfway across the park by now, but she was standing by the exit doors, pumping blasterfire into them until they parted.

Cool evening air washed into the musty passage. The tunnel emerged in the slope of another artificial hill on the far side of the park.

“All clear,” she said. “Go on, run.”

Mirta didn’t strike him as the type to care whether he lived or died. But, like Fett, she had her reasons for wanting him in one piece. Fett could have left them both stranded and escaped with his jet pack, but he didn’t let Han out of his sight.