Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(76)

And with the flash and soprano scream of the blaster shots, the whole crowd had been alerted.

“Back!” Kimmund snapped, firing into the shadowy mass now surging toward the hatchway. He’d taken only a couple of steps backward when the shadows disappeared as the Grysks dived for cover on both sides. The stormtroopers had gotten maybe three steps more when a barrage of blasterfire erupted from both sides of the hatchway.

“Back!” Kimmund shouted again, backing up as fast as he could while still firing, forcing himself not to flinch as Aksind’s and Tephan’s own return fire burned past a shade too close. So far the Grysks’ shots weren’t all that accurate, but he had little doubt they would pick up the necessary technique with the stolen Imperial weaponry quickly enough.

Fortunately, the three stormtroopers made it back into the storage compartment by the time the Grysks’ aim started to solidify. Kimmund continued to retreat, throwing open some of the cabinet doors as he passed, using them as a partial blockage against the enemy’s attack and giving him and the others a few extra seconds of breathing space.

But it was a temporary ploy at best. The storage compartment was a ten-meter-long choke point, and he and the others needed to get back to the common room where they’d at least have the partial protection of the hatchway sides.

For the last few seconds it was touch and go as the Grysks found the range. But the three stormtroopers reached the common room without picking up more than a few minor burns. A second after that they were crouched by the open hatch, Kimmund and Aksind standing on opposite sides, Tephan crouching beneath Aksind. “Tephan?” Kimmund prompted as the Grysks crossed the staging area and gathered at the sides of the storage compartment’s forward hatchway.

“Already tried,” Tephan bit out. “They’ve jammed our comms.”

Kimmund hissed out a curse. And now that they’d gotten through whatever security Thrawn had set up outside their makeshift cells, the only one watching over the hangar bay itself would be the duty officer. If he hadn’t called in an alert by now, it meant he hadn’t noticed the aliens slipping across the deck through his territory.

Which meant Kimmund and his troopers were on their own. “Okay,” he said. “There should be a couple of suits in the maintenance bay. Go armor up—Aksind and I will hold them here.”

“Right.” Scrambling back to her feet, Tephan sprinted aft across the common room and disappeared through the hatchway.

“Whole bunch more E-11s up there,” Aksind warned. “If they find them we’re in trouble, armor or no armor.”

“Yeah, thanks, got it,” Kimmund said, trying to think. As Aksind had pointed out, the bulk of their weapons and armor were in the storage compartment and staging area, sectors either disputed or already under enemy control. All Tephan would find in the maintenance bay was a couple of suits of armor in for refurbishing, some extra power packs that were being recharged, and—if they were extremely lucky—maybe an E-Web heavy blaster that Elebe or Dorstren had sent back to be sighted in.

But in the Darkhawk’s close confines, numbers were likely to be more of a deciding factor than heavy weaponry. Even if the Grysks were willing to let things sit at a stalemate—

With a teeth-jarring sound of metal on metal two of the under-seat equipment boxes from the staging area were shoved into view across the hatchway.

Kimmund’s first thought was that the Grysks were trying to block the stormtroopers in, to keep them neutralized at the back of the ship. But a second later the boxes began to move as the two Grysks behind them started pushing them down the corridor.

Kimmund grimaced. Not a barrier. A moving shield.

So much for the Grysks settling for a stalemate.

Still, the boxes didn’t quite fill the corridor, and there were other Grysks behind the vanguard. Kimmund shifted from barrage to sniper fire, shooting carefully and deliberately between and above the boxes, trying to hit anything back there that was unwary enough to present a target. The Grysks countered with return fire of their own around the boxes’ edges. Aksind continued his own volley fire, focusing his attack on the rightmost box in an attempt to shatter it or otherwise end its usefulness as a shield.

Which would, Kimmund knew, only delay the final confrontation. Opening up one side of the corridor might allow them to nail an additional Grysk or two before the others could retreat, but there were another six under-seat boxes the enemy could move in as replacement shields.

And then, midway between the stormtroopers and the Grysks, one of the storage cabinet doors opened a crack, then closed.

Kimmund’s first thought was that he’d imagined it. His second thought was that the blasterfire had somehow popped the catch.

But that wouldn’t explain how the door had closed again.

Then, even as he tried to get his mind back on focus, it happened again: The door swung open just enough for him to see the crack, then closed again.

He caught his breath. That cabinet, if he was visualizing the Darkhawk correctly, was back-to-back with one of the ship’s outside weapons lockers. One of the large weapons lockers…

The Grysks were still on the move, pushing their way slowly down the corridor behind their shields. A little too slowly, Kimmund decided.

Well, he could fix that. “Fall back,” he ordered Aksind. “Regroup at the galley hatch.”

“What?” Aksind asked, sounding confused.