Aves shook his head. “It’s crazy,” he repeated. “I’m not going to risk my people that way.”
“Luke knows what he’s doing,” Lando insisted. “He’s a Jedi.”
“He’s not a Jedi now,” Aves snorted. “Didn’t Karrde explain about the ysalamiri?”
“Whether he has Jedi powers or not, he’s still a Jedi,” Lando insisted. His blaster, he realized suddenly, was pointed at Aves. But that was okay, because Aves’s blaster was pointed at him, too. “Anyway, his life is more on the line here than any of yours-you can always abort and pull back.”
“Oh, sure,” Aves snorted, throwing a glance out the window. The Imperials were nearing the middle of the square now, Lando saw, the stormtroopers looking wary and alert as anything. “Except that if we leave any of them alive, they’ll seal off the city. And what about that Chariot up there?”
“What about it?” Lando countered. “I still haven’t heard how you’re planning to take it out.”
“Well, we sure as blazes don’t want it on the ground,” Aves retorted. “And that’s what’ll happen if we let the stormtroopers get to the arch. The Chariot’ll put down right across the front of it, right between us and them. That, plus the arch itself, will give them all the cover they need to sit back and take us out at their leisure.” He shook his head and shifted his grip on the transmitter. “Anyway, it’s too late to clue in the others to any plan changes.”
“You don’t have to clue them in,” Lando said, feeling sweat collecting under his collar. Luke was counting on him. “No one’s supposed to do anything until you trigger the booby-trapped weapons.”
Aves shook his head again. “It’s too risky.” He turned back to the window, raised the transmitter.
And here, Lando realized-right here-was where it all came down to the wire. Where you decided who or what it was you trusted. Tactics and abstract logic … or people. Lowering his blaster, he gently rested the tip of the muzzle against Aves’s neck. “We wait,” he said quietly.
Aves didn’t move; but suddenly there was something in the way he crouched there that reminded Lando of a hunting predator. “I won’t forget this, Calrissian,” he said, his voice icy soft.
“I wouldn’t want you to,” Lando said. He looked out at the stormtroopers … and hoped that Luke did indeed know what he was doing.
The vanguard had already passed the archway, and the major was only a few steps away from it, when four of the stormtroopers abruptly blew up.
Quite spectacularly, too. The simultaneous flashes of yellow-white fire lit up the landscape to almost painful intensity; the thunderclap of the multiple detonations nearly knocked Luke over.
The sound was still ringing in his ears when the blasters opened up behind them.
The stormtroopers were good, all right. There was no panic that Luke could detect; no sudden freezing in astonishment or indecision. They were moving into combat position almost before the blaster fire had begun: those already at the archway hugging close to the stone pillars to return covering fire, the rest moving quickly to join them. Above the sound of the blasters, he could hear the increased whine of the speeder bikes kicking into high speed; overhead, he caught just a glimpse of the Chariot assault vehicle swiveling around to face the unseen attackers.
And then an armored hand caught him under each armpit, and suddenly he was being hauled toward the archway. A few seconds later he was dumped unceremoniously in the narrow gap between the two pillars supporting the north side of the arch. Mara was already crouched there; a second later, two more stormtroopers tossed Han in to join them. Four of the Imperials moved into position over them, using the pillars for cover as they began returning fire. Struggling to his knees, Luke leaned out for a look.
Out in the fire zone, looking small and helpless amid the deadly horizontal hail of blaster fire, Artoo was rolling toward them as fast as his little wheels would carry him.
“I think we’re in trouble,” Han muttered in his ear. “Not to mention Lando and the others.”
“It’s not over yet,” Luke told him tightly. “Just stick close. How are you at causing distractions?”
“Terrific,” Han said; and to Luke’s surprise, he brought his hands out from behind his back, the chain and manacles he’d been wearing hanging loosely from his left wrist. “Trick cuffs,” he grunted, pulling a concealed strip of metal from the inside of the open cuff and probing at Luke’s restraints. “I hope this thing-ah.” The pressure on Luke’s wrists was suddenly gone; the cuffs opened and dropped to the ground. “You ready for your distraction?” Han asked, taking the loose end of his chain in his free hand.