[Legacy Of The Force] - 02(113)

“I think that’s a safe bet any day of the week,” said Shevu.

The assault ship swooped low over a skylane that was clogged with speeders of all sizes at each intersection. CSF vessels had formed up behind them at a careful distance; the focus of the activity was an apartment block, where a noisy protest was taking place. Someone had sprayed PEACE NOW and STOP KILLING CORELLIA on the awnings that covered sections of the walkways so that the message was visible from the air.

The crowd along the walkways looked like a complete cross section of species, and when the GAG ship dived lower to observe, it was met with jeers and obscene gestures. For a peace protest, it was getting pretty aggressive; Ben kept an eye out for blasters. The crowd seemed on that edge between simmering down and exploding that he was getting used to seeing. The ship lifted higher and hovered above the CSF line until a speeder bike rose to meet it. The sergeant astride it flipped up his visor as he drew level with the bay.

“Tip-off that they might be hoarding weapons somewhere. We’re deciding whether to go in and search the area and risk a full-scale armed riot, or wait until they get bored and go home.”

Jacen, Ben, and Shevu surveyed the scene from a safe height. “Want us to go in?” Jacen asked. “We don’t have to worry about community relations like you do.”

“Yeah, I heard that,” the sergeant said warily. A chant rose up beneath them: The-Empire’s-back! The-Empire’s-back! “Not planning to deploy in white armor, are you? That’d really start them off.”

“Very funny,” said Shevu. He lowered his helmet into place, suddenly becoming anonymous behind the shiny black visor. “Okay, you want us to root out a few?”

Once Ben was physically close to the area, he could feel much more specific disturbances in the Force, little whirlpools of threatening darkness. He felt something else now. “It’s big weapons.”

“We were kind of hoping for small ones, but . .

Ben could feel a growing anxiety that was almost like itching deep in his ears, so deep that it nearly touched the back of his throat. He was close. He craned his neck and looked out as far as he could from the open bay, hanging on to the safety line.

“I know where they are,” he said. He looked to Jacen to confirm his feeling. Jacen just looked at him, waiting. “What do you think?”

“What do you think?” asked Jacen. “Your call.”

“It feels … really dangerous.”

“So decide. Do we go in or not?”

Ben wavered. “If I’m wrong, we might start a full riot and people might get killed.”

Shevu powered up his blaster. The faint whine cut through the rumbling voices and the throb of repulsors. “Ready when you are, sir.”

“You have to make the decision, Ben,” Jacen said. “You have to decide what you think is right based on the intelligence you have now, and then stand by your actions.”

Ben hesitated. He wasn’t sure now if Jacen would stop him if he thought he was mistaken. He had to make his move.

“That block there,” said Ben, pointing down at a stack of apartments over a scruffy restaurant. “Take us in.”

Although Ben was sure-almost sure-that he could deal with blasterfire or missiles hurled at him, he was scared. The crowd below loomed larger, some turning and running away as the assault ships closed in, some rushing toward the vessels. At ten meters, Ben jumped, using the Force to stop him smashing into the walkway. People scattered. He heard Jacen thud down behind him and he didn’t look back as he ran for the door of the restaurant. Black-suited GAG troopers passed him and secured the doorway, and Ben drew his lightsaber simply because he was operating on blind instinct now.

There was nobody in the restaurant. The tables were empty and he ran between them, heading for a door at the back. Behind him he heard shouting, screams, and blasterfire: he had to be right about this now. He stopped at the doors at the back, not sure whether to force them open, and saw that it was Shevu behind him, not Jacen, covering his back, blaster aimed.

I can’t stop now.

Ben opened the doors with a Force push and stepped through, lightsaber held in both hands, and found himself in the kitchens, a jumble of durasteel racks, ovens, and sinks flanked by cupboards and storerooms. He concentrated, trying to feel for where people or arms might be hidden, and went instinctively toward a hinged door with a hand wheel on one side. He didn’t sense a person, but he sensed something indefinably dangerous.

“You have to remember to wear an earpiece,” Shevu whispered through his voice projector, and pointed to the hand wheel, indicating get over on that side by stabbing his finger. Then he made a circling motion.