“Ready.”

One, two–

“Three,” Darman grunted. The ram hit with a couple of metric tons of force and the perforated section fell inward as a waterfall of stinking dark slime shot out and splashed across Darman’s legs and boots.

“Oh, that’s just great,” he sighed. “Definitely matte black next time, okay?”

Atin took his helmet off and Darman realized he was struggling not to laugh. Now that the drain was open to the air, it was a perfect conduit for sound to the building above. Atin put his hand to his mouth, bent over slightly, and ap­peared to be biting down hard on the knuckle plate. He was actually shaking. When he straightened up, tears were streaming down his face. He wiped them away and gulped, then bent over again.

Darman had never even seen the man smile. Now he was in hysterics because Darman was spattered with the accumu­lated waste of total strangers. It wasn’t funny.

Yes, it was, actually. It was hilarious. Darman felt his stomach begin to shake in a completely involuntary reflex. Then he wasn’t certain that it was funny, but he still couldn’t stop. He shook in painfully silent laughter until his abdomi­nal muscles ached. Eventually, it subsided. He straightened up, inexplicably exhausted.

“Shall I let Niner know we’re through?” he said, and they both managed to stay completely calm for a count of three before the hysteria overtook them again.

Once you knew what laughter really was, and what primi­tive reflex triggered it, it wasn’t funny at all. It was the relief of danger passed. It was a primeval all-clear signal.

And that wasn’t the reality of their situation at all. The real danger was just starting.

Darman, suddenly his usual self again, replaced his hel­met and opened the comlink.

“Sarge, Darman here,” he said quietly. “We’re into the drain. Ready when you are.”

Niner and Fi set up the E-Web repeating blaster half a kilometer from the front of the facility. That was pretty close. If anyone had spotted them, they weren’t reacting.

“Copy that, Dar.” Niner checked the chrono on the fore­arm of his left gauntlet. “Can you see the drainage cover yet?”

The comlink crackled. Niner was yet again faintly pleased with himself that he’d decided to take that trip to Teklet. They’d never have stood a chance of pulling this off in comm silence. There were too many unknowns to do it by op order and chronosynch.

“I just followed the trail of crud and there it was,” Darman said. “Want a look?”

Niner’s HUD flashed up a grainy green image of huge dripping tubes that could have been a klick wide or just a centimeter. Come to that, it could have been an endoscopic view of someone’s guts. It didn’t look like fun, either way.

“What’s above you?”

“Dirty square plate and it’s not a drain. The water’s feeding down here from other pipes.” The image jerked as Dar­man’s head lowered to look at his datapad. It threw up eerie ghost images of the building. “If they stuck to the blueprints, then this is a hazmat filter and the maximum containment chambers are above it.” There was a scraping noise. “Yeah, the serial numbers match the schematic. If they had to hose down after a mishap in there, this is where the screened water or solvent would come out.”

“Are you going to need to blow it?”

“Well, it doesn’t look as if I can unscrew it with a hairpin. It’s permacreted in place. It’s not the sort of thing you want coming loose, I suppose.”

“Good timing for a spot of pyro at the villa, then. Let’s sync that up.”

“Okay. Give me a couple of minutes to set the charges.”

Two minutes was a long time. Niner counted it down in seconds. He was aware of Etain pacing up and down behind him—but you didn’t tell a commander to pack it in and stop fidgeting. He focused on Fi, who was kneeling behind the E-Web tripod, checking the sights, utterly relaxed. Niner en­vied him that ability. His own stomach was churning. It al­ways did on exercise: it was much worse now. His pulse was pounding in his ears and distracting him.

Darman responded eleven seconds late. “All done. I’ll count you down. We’re moving back out of the drain now. If we bring the outer chamber down, then we might take a little time to work our way back in.”

“What’s a little time in your book?”

“Maybe forever. It might kill us.”

“Let’s avoid, that, shall we?”

“Let’s.”

Etain was hovering at Niner’s shoulder. He glanced at her, hoping she’d take the hint.

“You’ve never worked as a complete team before, have you?” she said unhelpfully.

“No,” Niner hissed, and withheld the ma’am.

“You’re going to do fine,” she said. “You’re the best-trained, most competent troops in the galaxy and you’re con­fident of success.”

Niner was close to responding with a few words of pithy Huttese, but he suddenly saw her point. His stomach settled into a peaceful equilibrium again. He could hear Darman clearly. His drumming pulse had faded. He was perfectly content not to think how she had achieved that reassurance.

“In ten,” Darman said. He still had his forward helmet cam patched through to Niner’s HUD. He was scrambling through a tunnel. Niner had a sensation of rushing down a flume and half expected to splash into a deep pool at the other end.

“Five…” It went dark. Darman had his head tucked into his chest. “Three…” Niner felt for the remote detonator. “Two… go go go.”

Niner squeezed the remote.

For a fraction of a second the landscape was picked out in brilliant, gold, silent light. Niner’s antiblast visor kicked in. Then the ground shook, and even at two klicks the roar was deafening. It seemed to go on for several seconds. Then he realized he was hearing two blasts—one at the villa and one below the facility.

As the fire blazed and clouds of amber-lit smoke roiled into the air, the droids on watch outside the facility started reacting.

“Hold, Fi.” Niner swallowed to clear his ears. “Dar, Atin, respond.”

“Was that us or you?”

“Both. You okay, Dar?”

“Teeth are a bit loose, but we’re fine.”

“Nice job with the custom ordnance, you two. I think the villa’s got a new indoor swimming pool.”

“The chamber’s holding down here, just about. Going in.”

Silence had fallen on the countryside. It was as if every­one was waiting for the next move. Fi moved the five-pack of energy cell clips a little closer to him. Niner aimed his Deece to get a better view of the front of the villa, and saw droids milling around and an Umbaran officer with binocs scanning left to right across the fields.

“Ready, Sarge.”

“Wait one.”

A few more droids came out of the farmhouse door. If Niner hadn’t seen the plans, he would never have believed what was concealed inside and beneath the convincingly shabby wooden siding. Etain stood to one side of him.

“Ma’am, you might want to duck and cover.”

“I’m all right,” she said. She looked longingly at the Tran­doshan concussion rifle. “Let me know when I’m needed.”

Darman’s voice cut in on the comlink. “We’re about to enter the drain cover,” he said. “Time for distraction, Sarge.”

“Got it.” He knelt beside Fi and touched him on the shoul­der. “Put a couple down a little short of that barn. Just to say hello. Then fire at will.”

Fi hardly moved. The characteristic whoomp of the energy cell was followed by a ball of fire and a fountain of splintered wood. The barn rained back down, burning as it fell.

“Oops,” Fi said.

It got the droids’ attention, all right. Six formed a line and began marching down the field.

Fi opened up. Niner could feel the roar of noise in his chest as droid shrapnel rained down on them and incoming fire whisked over their heads. A large chunk of metal flew in an arc: Niner heard it fizzing in the air as it cooled while it fell. He didn’t see where it landed, but it was close. His night vision saw the sprays of shrapnel as brilliant white irregular raindrops. A few tinnies were getting through. Niner picked off two with the grenades.