"Darksaber (Kevin Anderson)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Kevin J)

passed along disturbing rumors that other Hutts were poking around in the
abandoned palace, looking for something-something important enough for them to
risk coming back.

Luke slid down from his bantha and patted its woolly side. The bantha
snorted in confusion and stamped its feet. Han's bantha snuffled.

The corroded door loomed in front of them, a durasteel barrier pitted
with blaster scars, some bright and new, others decades old and worn away.
Luke and Han approached together. Over the years, the control circuits had
crossed or decayed, and the heavy barrier had raised-and stuck-half a meter
from the ground. Drifts of sand had collected in the gap. A cool, musty-
smelling breeze leaked out of the shadowy inner corridors.

"We could crawl under, I suppose," Han said without much enthusiasm,
running his fingers over the heavy durasteel door.

Luke went up to the lichen-covered external panel. "It might slip and
squash us both like it did Jabba's rancor. I think I'll try these controls
first."

As soon as Luke touched one of the buttons, a panel creaked open in the
center of the door, and a bobbing artificial eye extended, swaying on a rusted
metal stalk-Jabba's surveillance system. The machine's words were garbled and
slurred as if its programming had deteriorated.

The scolding tone in its vocal synthesizer was more than Han, weary as he
was, could tolerate. He reached into the folds of his desert robe, pulled out
his blaster pistol, and blew the thing into smoking shards and sparking wires.
"Oh, shut up!" he said, then turned to Luke with a roguish grin. "Didn't like
the way it was looking at us."

Luke set to work on the door controls, and finally, with a coughing
sound, the door lurched up another meter and jammed in its tracks. "Think
that's good enough?" he said.

Before Han could reply, the whine of a blaster bolt spanged against the
metal door, creating another bright silvery scar. "What?" he cried, whirling.

Their two banthas snorted in greeting. Another blaster bolt shot down the
canyon and burned a hole through Han's draped desert robe, barely missing his
chest. Han held up the drab cloth in shock, looking at the smoldering hole.

The entire group of Sand People thundered down the canyon, whipping their
banthas to a frenzy and waving gaffi sticks. They fired recklessly with their
blasters. Han and Luke's two banthas reared.

"Looks like you stopped distracting 'em too soon, kid," Han said, diving
toward the partially open door. "Must have seen our tracks."