Star Wars - The End of History by Alexander Freed

Author:Alexander Freed [Freed, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2015-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The closest bomb detonated less than a hundred meters away, deafening and blinding Antron. For those few, terrifying seconds, Miru kept moving, tugging Antron along with a strength she surely should have lost during the crash.

But the TIEs didn’’’’t seem to spot them. Antron’s dazed mind struggled to understand before it snapped to a conclusion: The Empire assumed Miru had killed the landing party, and was bombing her last known position.

They still didn’’’’t know about Antron or the vault.

By the time Antron and Miru descended through a hatch into the colony’’’’s industrial tunnels, Antron’s skin was caked in a paste formed from sweat and dust. Miru watched him as he leaned against a rock wall riddled with metal pipes and dim yellow lamps. She was sweating worse than he was, and at some point — during the fight or the bombing, if not hours earlier —— she’’’’d developed a cut in her left arm. Blood trickled into her palm.

““Thank you,” Antron said. ““For saving my life. Several times.””

Miru shrugged. ““Who’’ll take over this place if you’’re blown to bits?””

Antron smiled grimly. ““If they blow me up, this place is next.””

The tunnels quaked and metal wailed in the distance as something came untethered. Miru took Antron’’s arm and began walking again. ““My father was a historian,”” she said.

Antron shook his head, trying to follow her logic.

Miru kept talking. ““He believed in the Jedi. Believed in the Republic. Before the Empire got to him.”””

She didn’’t look at Antron. ““I don’’t remember life before the Empire,” ”she said. ““I don’’t know whether your cave full of stories counts for anything. I can’’t.””

They reached a branch in the tunnel, and Miru halted, waiting for Antron to take the lead. ““But you believe in this stuff. You almost died for it. If you say your mission takes priority… we can do it your way.””

Antron watched Miru in surprise, watched her stand as straight as she could despite her exhaustion and bruises and cuts, waiting for orders without a word of complaint.

He listened to a dim, distant rumble and thought of the Jedi Padawan Nes Ukul, who’’d given his life protecting a species whose language he didn’’t speak on a planet whose name he didn’’t know.

It was Ukul’’s Master who’’d said, ““There is no more selfless act than to perish for another’’’s cause.”” Antron swallowed, considered praising Miru, thanking her, and decided against it. She didn’’’t seem to need comfort, and he didn’’’t have the dignity to spare.

““You take the left, and I’’l’l take the right,”” he said. ““There’’’s a backup generator you need to shut down while I handle the primary.””

Miru frowned. ““Can you make it on your own?”” she asked.

Antron flapped a hand dismissively. ““I’’’’m old and fat, but I can walk down a hallway. Shoo!””

Miru limped into the darkness. Antron turned on his heel and headed down a narrow corridor, emerging into a chamber lined with consoles and cluttered with crates and toolboxes. The generator hummed comfortingly under the floor, and after surveying his surroundings he wiped his brow and set to work.

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