Most Wanted Page 16

The Wookiee groaned again.

  “‘Ship’?” Han asked him. “Did you just say ‘ship’?”

  The Wookiee nodded vigorously.

  “You’re joking,” Qi’ra said. “He made the exact same groaning sound as the last time.”

  Han blinked. “No, the sounds were totally different.”

  “Whatever,” Qi’ra said. “Will you come with us?” she said to the Wookiee.

  He shook his head violently.

  “Blast. Why not?”

  He growled something, but Han understood very little. “I think he doesn’t trust us. Something about invisibility? No, disappearances! But I’m not sure.”

  Tsuulo said, “We don’t have time to argue with him.”

  “We prepared for this contingency,” Qi’ra said, reaching for her breather. Tsuulo and Han followed suit, and Tsuulo pulled the first “ball thingy” from his pocket.

  The Wookiee roared.

  “Now, Tsuulo!” Qi’ra shoved the breather against her nose and mouth.

  The Rodian flicked the button on the stun charge.

  The Wookiee leaped for Qi’ra, hands reaching for her throat.

  The stun charge lifted into the air and spun, shooting yellow-green gas from tiny jets at its circumference.

  The Wookiee faltered, then fell to one knee. His head lolled for a moment before he crashed to the ground.

  “Dat dakes care of one probumm,” Qi’ra said, her lips tight to the breather so no gas could enter her lungs. “Now we waid.”

  “How long will it dake?” Han asked. He knew they had to wait for the gas to dissipate for their plan to work, but if they took too long, those Imperials might get suspicious.

  Tsuulo held up a hand as if telling him to have patience. After a moment, he lowered it and removed his breather. “Should be fine now. The gas disappears fast. I’m sure she engineered it specifically for stealth maneuvers.”

  Made sense. “Ready for the next step?” Han said to Qi’ra.

  She nodded, taking a deep breath. Then she ran into the hallway, shouting, “Get in here at once! We have a huge problem, and I will not stand for it!”

  Qi’ra could use some lessons in lying; she was overdoing it a bit. Nevertheless a flurry of boot steps indicated that people were coming their way fast.

  The officer and two of the stormtroopers skidded to a stop just outside the cell.

  “Look at this!” Qi’ra said, seemingly so angry she could breathe fire. “This prisoner is in terrible shape. What have you been feeding him? When I tell my superiors what you’ve done to our asset—”

  “We did nothing!” the officer protested. “This isn’t our fault! He was fine at the last feeding.”

  Qi’ra peered into his face. “You know a lot about Wookiees, then?”

  “I…no, I guess not.”

  “Then how do you know he was fine?”

  “I guess I didn’t…I mean, his appetite was fine. He didn’t give us any trouble.”

  Tsuulo pointed to his datapad and began jabbering at the Imperials, ostensibly instructing them on some basics of Wookiee physiology. In actuality he was insulting their mothers and wishing them bad bowels. Han kept a perfectly straight face. And hoped quietly that none of them understood a single word of Huttese.

  Qi’ra tapped her bottom lip. “I concede that he may have already been ill when he was brought here. I suppose you can’t be held responsible if he worsened in your care.”

  “Yes, that must be it! He was already ill when he was brought here.”

  “I may still be able to salvage him.”

  “Oh? How?”

  “Can you have a med lift brought here? We’ll push him out and get him to our ship. We have a well-provisioned infirmary.”

  “Absolutely. At once.” The officer fled, the stormtroopers at his back.

  “Wow, that actually worked,” Han whispered.

  Tsuulo started laughing quietly.

  “What?” Han asked.

  “The part about calling the Wookiee an ‘asset’ to be ‘salvaged.’ Qi’ra sounds just like a stuck-up Imperial.”

  Han translated for Qi’ra and was awarded with one of her magnificent smiles.

  “You think this fellow is okay?” Han said, prodding the unconscious Wookiee with his foot.

  “Should be,” Qi’ra said. “I hope so. If he’s not, this is all for nothing.”

  The officer returned, pushing a hovering gurney ahead of him. “Your med lift,” he said.

  “Perfect,” Qi’ra said. “Your cooperation in this might mean the difference between life and death for my asset.”

  Again, Han felt she might be pushing it too hard, but the officer beamed. “Anything else?” he asked.

  “Help us get him onto the lift?”

  Together, Han, the officer, and the two stormtroopers lifted and heaved until the Wookiee lay across the gurney. His feet hung over the end, but Han figured it would hold.

  “Thank you,” Qi’ra said. “Now we must hurry.”

  She pushed the lift out the door and down the hallway. It glided through the air easily, as if the creature on it did not weigh more than Han, Qi’ra, and Tsuulo all put together.

  “Han, get ready with the second ball thingy,” Qi’ra said under her breath.

  That meant she expected trouble. Han reached into his pocket for the gas bomb and palmed it, careful not to engage the button.

  They reached the vestibule, where the other stormtroopers turned to gawk at the Wookiee on the gurney. They were almost to the lift. Just a few more steps…

  “Hey, can I ask you a question?” the officer said at their backs.

  Qi’ra ignored him, pressing the call button.

  “How did a young, pretty girl like you get such an important job?”

  Han felt his hackles go up. As if being pretty were somehow not compatible with being important. The Engineer’s gas grenade was cool and hard in his hand, ready to be activated at a moment’s notice.

  “C’mon, tell me. How did you do it?”

  Without turning around, Qi’ra said, “I did well in my aptitude testing.”

  “You’re saying I didn’t?”

  Finally, Qi’ra turned, facing him down. “You’re just an ensign, stuck in an office job on this dive of a planet. What do you think?”

  A muscle in the officer’s jaw moved. He reached for the comm. “You know, before you go, I need to check with my superiors. Make sure this is a sanctioned removal. I’m just an ensign, after all.”

  Softly, Qi’ra said, “Breathers. Now.”

  Han shoved his breather against his nose and mouth. Qi’ra and Tsuulo did the same.

  “Hey, what are you—”

  Han yanked the gas grenade from his pocket, flicked the switch, and tossed it into the air in one swift, smooth movement. The little metal ball spun in the air, spewing gas.

  The lift opened.

  “Go now!” Qi’ra said around her breather, pushing the gurney and its resident Wookiee into the lift. The sounds of choking and coughing peppered their backs.

  The door slid closed behind them, and they began to descend. After a moment, Tsuulo removed his breather and shoved it into his pocket. The others followed suit.

  “They’ll be out a long time,” Qi’ra said.

  “I just hope he didn’t open that comm before he lost consciousness,” Han said.

  “You sure the Wookiee is okay?” Tsuulo asked. “He got two doses of that stuff.”

  “I only understood the word for ‘two.’…Blast!” Qi’ra said.

  “Uh-oh, what?” Han prompted.

  “Two doses! I didn’t think of that. I should have.” Her shoulders slumped. “Two doses of that gas might be fatal. I…I messed up.”

  Gently, Han put a hand on her shoulder. “I doubt it. He’s a Wookiee. It would take a freighter full of that stuff to hurt him. And your plan was great. Simple and perfect.” It was true. The best plans were simple. So elegant, so sneaky, that no one knew you were trouble until long
after you were gone. He’d have to remember that. “Now we’re just going to walk right out the front door.”

  And that’s what they did. Prisoners being escorted in and out was a common sight at CorSec headquarters, and few paid them any mind, even when it was a giant Wookiee on a med lift.

  Moments later, they stepped into the cold Corellian day. No one had even sounded an alarm.

  Getting the Wookiee out of CorSec headquarters without drawing too much attention was one thing. Getting him through downtown Coronet to the parking structure was quite another.

  As they traveled the pedestrian walkway with a giant furry creature on the med lift between them, Qi’ra was certain all eyes were on them. Was that Besalisk staring? That homeless beggar was probably a spy. And those lampposts—probably filled with hidden cams. If anyone decided to look for them right now, they’d be easy to find.

  “Just walk casual,” Qi’ra told them, mostly for her own benefit. “Eyes straight ahead as if we’ve nothing to hide.”

  They were almost to the parking structure when an alarm sounded, piercing the cold air, startling everyone around them. Instinctively, they all froze.

  “No, no, we have to keep going,” Qi’ra urged. “Pretend like nothing is wrong.”

  They kept going.

  The siren wailed and wailed, loud and close. Too close. It certainly came from Peace and Security Headquarters. No doubt the officer’s comm had gone through, just as Han feared, and when someone went up to investigate, they found a vestibule full of unconscious Imperials.

  It would take CorSec and its resident Imperial officers a little time to gather their resources, interview witnesses, figure out who they were looking for. But not much time. The Empire had more resources than Qi’ra could imagine.

  Resources. They were walking out of CorSec alive—with an Imperial prisoner, no less—thanks to the Engineer’s resources. Everything was so much easier when you had money. Connections. Influence.

  Someday, somehow, Qi’ra was going to have all of that.

  She would have to do better, though. She was tired, sure. As hungry as she’d ever been. But she shouldn’t have overlooked the possibility of the Wookiee inhaling a second dose of gas. And she shouldn’t have let that ensign get under her skin. If she’d just left without saying anything, the alarm might not have been going off.

  Most of all, she should have had a contingency plan for walking in and not finding a map posted. From now on she’d keep in mind that people didn’t always follow regulations. It was a good thing Han was able to think on his feet. Come to think of it, they made a pretty good team. Qi’ra thought everything through, and when they met unexpected obstacles, Han improvised.

  They entered the dark parking structure and found their speeder. The med lift was not quite level with the speeder, so the three of them had to heave the Wookiee up over the rear spoiler, rolling him into the back seat.

  They crowded into the front seat, Qi’ra squashed between the two boys. Han guided the speeder out of the structure and onto the thoroughfare. She was glad for the excuse to put the riding goggles back on. They made her feel safer. Invisible.

  It was a deceptive feeling, though, and she knew to be wary of complacency right now. The Wookiee was too big for the back seat; his hairy feet were sticking up over the side of the speeder. Of course they were going to be noticed.

  All they had to do was get to the rendezvous point the Engineer had indicated. According to Tsuulo, they were headed toward some wealthy citizen’s fancy estate at the edge of town, far enough away from the spaceport to not interfere with air traffic. Besides, no one would think twice about a small shuttle landing on one of the major estates. That kind of thing happened every day.

  “Don’t look now,” Han said, “but I think that’s a police speeder a few vehicles behind us.”

  Blast. Qi’ra forced herself not to look, but she and Tsuulo exchanged alarmed glances.

  “Okay, I’m banking into a turn,” Han said. “Look casually over your shoulder, as if taking in the sights, and tell me if that’s a police speeder.”

  She did exactly as he asked, craning her head to stare at the buildings around them, sparing only a quick look for the speeders behind them.

  Her heart thudded.

  Sure enough, not far behind was a one-man vehicle with long stabilizers for easy maneuverability and a wicked-looking gun mount.

  “Definitely a police speeder,” Qi’ra said. “It has a gun turret.”

  Tsuulo said something about stormtroopers.

  “Yeah, at least it’s not one of them,” Han said. “They’re way better trained than CorSec officers.”

  Qi’ra risked another look behind them. The police speeder was gaining on them. “I think it’s tailing us.”

  Han reacted instantly, taking a sharp turn onto another thoroughfare.

  “So what do we do?” Qi’ra asked.

  “I dunno…improvise, I guess. I’ve outrun CorSec before. I mean, I was on foot, in the sewers, but still.”

  “Uh, Han, that speeder turned where we did. It’s definitely following us.”

  Tsuulo pointed to a nearby intersection, saying something about “home” or maybe it was “house.”

  “We can’t, Tsuulo, not yet,” Han said. “We have to get out of the center of town, then circle around and head for the outer estates.”

  “That speeder is not gaining on us,” Qi’ra pointed out. “Why isn’t it catching up?”

  “That CorSec officer doesn’t want to catch us,” Han explained. “Their job is to keep us in sight and communicate our location to everyone else. Once enough speeders have been dispatched, they’ll surround us. They might even dispatch a few waterspeeders, come at us from the canals.”

  “Holy moons.” Qi’ra had no idea how they were going to get out of this one.

  “That’s why we have to get away from the downtown area. Okay, hold on tight. I’m about to do something stupid.”

  “Holy moons.” She and Tsuulo grabbed the roll bar and held on for dear life.

  They were approaching the seedy entertainment district. Cheap holoboards promised unspeakable delights while casting blue and red and purple motes onto their skin—even in the light of day. A portable projector sign was propped up outside a cantina, advertising the concert of some low-rent musician Qi’ra had never heard of.

  “This is going to work,” Han muttered. “It’s going to work, it’s going to work.”

  “You’re about to hit that sign!” Qi’ra yelled.

  “I know!” he yelled back.

  Han hit the left reverse thruster, and their back end swept right, all the way around to the sign. Metal screamed as their rear fender sent the sign flying end over end into the street. Han reversed right and hit the accelerator, powering them back into the straightaway.

  Everyone behind them swerved to avoid the sign, including the police speeder, which was forced to slow down to keep from crashing.

  “You did that on purpose,” Qi’ra said.

  “I knew it would work!” His grin was so wide it took up the whole world. Han loved piloting, she realized. This was where he belonged.

  Han took a quick turn. Then another.

  They skimmed through town until the entertainment district and the fish markets were mere blips in their wake. Only then did Han steer them toward the neighborhood housing Coronet City’s richest, most powerful residents.

  “You think we lost them?” Qi’ra asked.

  “Only temporarily. Once the stormtroopers figure out which prisoner we sprung and put it together that we’re working with the Engineer, we’re screwed.”

  Tsuulo asked Han a question.

  “Don’t even think that right now. If that happens, we’re especially screwed.”

  “If what happens?”

  “He’s worried the Engineer won’t be true to her word. That there won’t be a shuttle waiting for us after all.”

  “There has to be!” Qi’ra protested. “We have her Woo
kiee!” She peered over her shoulder to check on him. He was still out cold, but he had shifted a bit. His right arm and most of his head were smashed into the footwell of the seat. She desperately hoped he was all right.

  They sped through a neighborhood of tenements, tall buildings made of boxy apartments that were stacked haphazardly like children’s blocks. Several barefoot kids played a game with a rope outside of one. Laundry hung from another. This area wasn’t too different from the freighter boneyard, Qi’ra mused. People built whatever they could with whatever tools they had and called it home.

  Soon the tenements ceded to a district dense with small, dingy factories, and finally to a wide, muddy river.

  “Toll booth ahead,” Qi’ra said.

  “All toll booths are equipped with cams and recognition tech,” Han pointed out. “Between that and the toll, they do a pretty good job keeping lowlifes like us away from all the fancy rich people who live across the river.”

  “So once we cross, they’ll know we’re here.”

  “Yep.”

  “Any other ideas?”

  “Nope.”

  Tsuulo jabbered at them, waving his arms.

  “You have an idea, Tsuulo?” Qi’ra asked.

  “He has a terrific idea. He says that once we cross, we should go really, really fast.”

  Qi’ra slumped in her seat. They were definitely going to die.

  They paused at the toll booth to insert their last credit chip. The barrier slid away, and they zoomed across the bridge into Coronet City’s finest residential district.

  The densely packed buildings and steaming pipe vents and endless paver that made up the rest of the city were not in evidence here. Instead, they cruised through quiet tree-lined streets bordering expansive lawns. Qi’ra had never seen so many trees in one place. Maybe they were specially imported. Estate homes were set back from the street, boasting picturesque fountains, walls of glass, and rooftop landing pads.

  Tsuulo indicated that they should turn left, and Han complied. “Not far now!” Han shouted.

  A whining sound made Qi’ra’s neck tingle. She felt heat on her skin, turned, and looked up. A small starship was coming out of the sky, descending on them.

  “Han, we’ve got company!”

  He dared to glance back, then punched the console in frustration. “That’s an Imperial patrol craft! There’s no way I can outrun it.”