Three seconds later, it was all over.
Shadow and Watchman were out in the cross corridor straddling the smoking Lakran bodies as they checked both ends of the hall. "Clear," Watchman announced. "But it won't be for long."
"Acknowledged," Twister said, looking behind him at the Eickaries.
They were just standing there, some of them twitching a little, others fingering their weapons uncertainly, all of them staring at the dead enemies.
Enemies they themselves hadn't lifted a finger to help kill.
Twister let his gaze linger another second, then turned to Su-mil. "You called them soldiers?" he asked pointedly.
Su-mil's orange highlights had gone a dusky brown. "They froze with surprise," he said, his voice unreadable. Explanation or excuse, Twister couldn't tell which. "I apologize for their failure. It will not happen again."
"I'd really like to believe that," Twister told him. "Unfortunately, I don't think I can take that chance."
"Do you mean to go back on your promise?" Su-mil asked bluntly.
Twister hesitated. The Eickaries placed great store in promises made between those who had exchanged full names. But at the same time, he had a mission and orders of his own to deal with. "We'll still free your prisoners," he said. "But only after we've captured the Warlord."
Su-mil didn't answer. Twister eyed him another second, giving him every opportunity to argue his case. "Then you had best depart," the Eickarie said at last.
"Footsteps," Watchman snapped, he and Shadow stepping back into the partial cover of the corner.
"Direction?" Twister demanded, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he moved forward to join them.
"Could be either," Watchman told him, swiveling his head back and forth. "All these echoes—"
"Never mind." Twister cut him off, coming to a sudden decision. The bulk of the Lakra would still be congregating off to their left to oppose Aurek Company's attack. Therefore, he and his unit would go right. "Head right. Maybe we can skulk our way past them."
He stepped around the corner and hurried down the corridor, the other two stormtroopers forming up behind him. Ten meters ahead, another corridor cut across theirs at an angle. They could hear more thudding footsteps, some of them definitely coming closer—
"Halt!" Su-mil's voice barked suddenly from behind him. "Lower your weapons!"
Twister turned, sheer surprise bringing him to a stop. Su-mil and his soldiers had poured into the corridor behind the Imperials and assembled themselves into a classic two-tier firing wall. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
And then, ten meters behind the Eickaries, a dozen Lakra suddenly appeared around a corner, surging down the passageway toward them like a bad-tempered river. There was another burst of noise from behind him, and Twister turned back to see another mercenary squad appear from the angled corridor ahead.
Unit Aurek-Seven of the 501st had been trapped.
"Lower your weapons to the ground," Su-mil repeated, lifting his rifle to point squarely at Twister's face. "Do it now, or you will die."
There didn't seem to be many options. "Do it," Twister growled to Shadow and Watchman, crouching down and setting his BlasTech onto the floor.
Shifting his rifle to a one-handed grip, Su-mil lifted the other hand above the heads of his soldiers and gestured toward the approaching Lakra. "Fellow servants of our Glorious Majesty!" he shouted. "We have captured them!"
The first wave of Lakra picked their way past the bodies of their comrades at the intersection and came to a halt behind the Eickaries, their weapons trained warily on the natives' backs. Leaving the rest of his squad on guard, the mercenary leader strode through the group to Su-mil's side, shoving aside anyone not quick enough to get out of his way. "What have we here?" he growled in a voice that sounded like rocks being run through a fruit blender, the heavy blaster in his massive hand holding steady on Twister's chest. "Imperial stormtroopers. An interesting catch."
He looked sideways at Su-mil. "If they were indeed caught," he added pointedly. "Who are you, and what are you doing uninvited in His Glorious Majesty's home?"
"I am Su-mil." Su-mil's aim shifted slightly, as if he no longer needed to keep as close a watch on the Imperials now that the Lakra had arrived. "I am a loyal subject of His Glorious Majesty, who finds heartache in the invasion of my home by Imperial intruders."
"That may be as it may be," the squad leader said. "Why are you here?"
"Ah, that is a tale of extreme Eickarie courage," Su-mil said proudly. "We found them on the street, clearly intent on attacking our Glorious Majesty's home. They pointed their weapons at us and demanded we lead them inside."
Twister frowned. That wasn't at all the way it had been. What was Su-mil trying to do, make himself and his friends look more heroic?
"And you did so?" the Lakra prompted.
Again, Su-mil's aim twitched fractionally to the side. "We showed them where the tunnel was hidden and brought them through it," he said.
"How?" the Lakra asked. "Both towers were guarded."
"There is an unguarded entrance."
"You will take us to this entrance as soon as these enemies have been secured," the squad leader said ominously. "Did more of them come in?"
"No," Su-mil said. "These three were all we brought in."
"Yet others may follow," the Lakra said, turning halfway around and giving a brief order in his own language. One of the mercenaries grunted a response, and a third of them turned and hurried back the way they'd come. Again stepping carefully over the bodies of their fallen comrades, they returned to the corner where they'd first appeared and set up a defensive position. "And these?" the leader continued, gesturing back toward the dead Lakra. "What happened to them?"
"The Imperials shot them down," Su-mil said, his voice contemptuous. Again, his weapon shifted. "I and my people played no part in the slaughter."
"Despite these weapons you carry?" the squad leader snapped, his voice suddenly heavy with suspicion. "And how do you come by them, if the invaders merely stopped you on the street?"
Su-mil's weapon shifted aim again. "The weapons are ours," he conceded. "We told the Imperials we would agree to assist them." Once more, his aim shifted. "But we would never use such weapons against our Glorious Majesty and our fellow servants."
Twister grimaced. He was a traitor, all right, a traitor to his own people as well as to the Imperials who were bleeding and dying to try to help them. And a shameless smooth-talker on top of it, standing there looking calmly at his victims as he pointed his weapon at Twister's left eye.
His left eye?
Twister stiffened as it suddenly clicked. The weapon's apparently arbitrary movement wasn't arbitrary at all. It was, instead, Su-mil carefully alternating his aim between Twister's left and right eyes.
Left-handed: a lie. Right-handed: the truth.
Quickly, he ran back through the conversation, this time paying attention to where the weapon had been pointed at each exchange. We have captured them—a lie. I am Su-mil—the truth. I am a loyal subject of His Glorious Majesty—a lie. We found them on the street, clearly intent on attacking our Glorious Majesty's home—the truth. They pointed their weapons at us and demanded we lead them inside—a lie. We showed them where the tunnel was hidden—the truth. I and my people played no part in the slaughter—a lie. We told the Imperials we would agree to assist them—the truth.