shoot harmlessly past. The clean miss threw Birtraub completely off balance, and as he half lunged, half fell toward her Mara swiveled on her right foot, moving out of his way.
Some people would have figured it out at that point. Birtraub wasn’t one of them. Even as he lurched past, cursing, he snapped a kick backward toward her. Mara sidestepped it and, almost as an afterthought, swept his other leg out from under him.
He hit the floor flat; and with that, the last bit of fight was finally out of him. “Whenever you’re ready,” Mara said calmly, nudging him in the ribs with her foot.
Grimacing with pain, Birtraub pushed himself up on one hand, half turning to look up at her. “WarehouseFourteen,” he managed, wincing as if the words hurt to say. Considering how he’d landed, they probably did. “East side of the complex.” His gaze drifted to his unconscious men. “If they get you, tell them it was Pirtonna who told you.”
Mara smiled cynically. Typical. “Thank you,” she said, lifting her borrowed blaster. “If he’s not there, I’ll be back for another chat.”
She fired, and he collapsed beneath the blue stun blast. Retrieving her satchel, she headed back along the deserted corridors to the exit.
The driver was still waiting in the long landspeeder. Mara stunned him, dragged his unconscious form out of sight, and drove away.
Warehouse 14 was located conveniently next to Docking Bay 14, currently occupied by a nicely polished Hyrotii Crescent-class freighter, a model that mostly saw service as a rich-kid toy. But once again, appearances were deceiving. Mara studied the ship as she drove a leisurely circle along the complex’s outer drive, noting the hidden laser and torpedo ports, the forged markings, and the neatly dressed but rough-looking men walking guard duty around both the vessel and the wide cargo doors leading into the warehouse. Beside the doors, tucked out of the way, were three landspeeders with the Birtraub Brothers logo on their sides. Through the warehouse doors she could see a group of men loading crates onto repulsor carts and maneuvering them out to the ship’s ramp. The warehouse itself seemed well stocked, with multiple stacks of crates scattered throughout. She took special notice of the placement of the stacks along the back wall and continued her drive.
The back of Warehouse 14 butted up against another warehouse-sized building, this one subdivided into smaller storage units, with a narrow service corridorrunning between the two. Mara found the entrance to the corridor and headed to a spot where her memory told her a stack of crates would shield her from view from inside. Stretching out to the Force, confirming there was no one nearby who might walk in on her, she opened her satchel and got to work.
Her first task was to retrieve her lightsaber, hidden inside a long data analysis unit. The unit had three hidden catches, positioned far enough apart that a single person couldn’t hit all three. Mara squeezed two with her hands and used the Force to pop the third. Pulling out the lightsaber, she tucked it into her belt, then freed the sleeve gun and holster from one of her two datapads and strapped the weapon to her left forearm. Checking a final time for possible observers, she stepped back from the warehouse wall and ignited her lightsaber.
With a
snap-hiss
the magenta blade flashed into existence. It was a unique color, the Emperor had told her when he’d given her the bit of starter she’d used to grow the crystal for the weapon, one that had been seen only once in the last hundred years. He hadn’t said where he’d gotten the crystal; probably it was from one of the collections of weapons and artwork and historical artifacts he had scattered around the Empire.
For a moment she held the lightsaber motionless, gazing at the blade and letting the feel of the weapon flow into her mind and back again into her hands. Then, setting her feet, she lowered the blade and
Some people would have figured it out at that point. Birtraub wasn’t one of them. Even as he lurched past, cursing, he snapped a kick backward toward her. Mara sidestepped it and, almost as an afterthought, swept his other leg out from under him.
He hit the floor flat; and with that, the last bit of fight was finally out of him. “Whenever you’re ready,” Mara said calmly, nudging him in the ribs with her foot.
Grimacing with pain, Birtraub pushed himself up on one hand, half turning to look up at her. “WarehouseFourteen,” he managed, wincing as if the words hurt to say. Considering how he’d landed, they probably did. “East side of the complex.” His gaze drifted to his unconscious men. “If they get you, tell them it was Pirtonna who told you.”
Mara smiled cynically. Typical. “Thank you,” she said, lifting her borrowed blaster. “If he’s not there, I’ll be back for another chat.”
She fired, and he collapsed beneath the blue stun blast. Retrieving her satchel, she headed back along the deserted corridors to the exit.
The driver was still waiting in the long landspeeder. Mara stunned him, dragged his unconscious form out of sight, and drove away.
Warehouse 14 was located conveniently next to Docking Bay 14, currently occupied by a nicely polished Hyrotii Crescent-class freighter, a model that mostly saw service as a rich-kid toy. But once again, appearances were deceiving. Mara studied the ship as she drove a leisurely circle along the complex’s outer drive, noting the hidden laser and torpedo ports, the forged markings, and the neatly dressed but rough-looking men walking guard duty around both the vessel and the wide cargo doors leading into the warehouse. Beside the doors, tucked out of the way, were three landspeeders with the Birtraub Brothers logo on their sides. Through the warehouse doors she could see a group of men loading crates onto repulsor carts and maneuvering them out to the ship’s ramp. The warehouse itself seemed well stocked, with multiple stacks of crates scattered throughout. She took special notice of the placement of the stacks along the back wall and continued her drive.
The back of Warehouse 14 butted up against another warehouse-sized building, this one subdivided into smaller storage units, with a narrow service corridorrunning between the two. Mara found the entrance to the corridor and headed to a spot where her memory told her a stack of crates would shield her from view from inside. Stretching out to the Force, confirming there was no one nearby who might walk in on her, she opened her satchel and got to work.
Her first task was to retrieve her lightsaber, hidden inside a long data analysis unit. The unit had three hidden catches, positioned far enough apart that a single person couldn’t hit all three. Mara squeezed two with her hands and used the Force to pop the third. Pulling out the lightsaber, she tucked it into her belt, then freed the sleeve gun and holster from one of her two datapads and strapped the weapon to her left forearm. Checking a final time for possible observers, she stepped back from the warehouse wall and ignited her lightsaber.
With a
snap-hiss
the magenta blade flashed into existence. It was a unique color, the Emperor had told her when he’d given her the bit of starter she’d used to grow the crystal for the weapon, one that had been seen only once in the last hundred years. He hadn’t said where he’d gotten the crystal; probably it was from one of the collections of weapons and artwork and historical artifacts he had scattered around the Empire.
For a moment she held the lightsaber motionless, gazing at the blade and letting the feel of the weapon flow into her mind and back again into her hands. Then, setting her feet, she lowered the blade and
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