“Well, well, Barron,” a synthesized voice broadcast from the speakers scattered around the compound.”I finally have you. I will entertain your request to surrender now.”

It was a matter of time before those black-clad thugs rushed her. If she was going to make it out with her skin intact, she needed to act quickly. Bo adjusted the power setting on her blaster, then the beam dispersal. Her eyes passed over the high walls, orienting herself to the map she’d memorized before she’d embarked on this suicide mission.

Choosing her spot, she leveled her sidearm at the outer wall and fired repeatedly until the thick wall exploded in a mass of molten rock. The concussion drove her back a few steps, but she’d been ready for it. Without waiting for the smoke to clear, she holstered her sidearm and raced for the hole, diving through headfirst. Once clear of the wall, she twisted mid-air, pointed her left arm at one of the buttresses supporting the structure, and clenched her fist, launching the grappling hook attached to her wrist. Silently praying she wouldn’t run out of shimmersilk line before the hook found purchase, Bo held her breath.

Without bothering to aim, Bo pulled the trigger, blasting an enormous hole in the wall. She dove through it before the smoke cleared. On the other side, she came up quickly to a crouch and looked around.

Finding herself alone, she rose and moved along the corridor, heading in the general direction of the exit. As she reached a junction, a handful of large, black-clad commandos stepped out from the shadows and opened fire on her. Bo ducked and reversed course, heading back the way she’d come. She passed the hole she’d made just as more armed commandos swarmed through it. She fired at them and turned, racing full speed down the corridor.

The maze of intersecting hallways would have confused even the best sense of direction. Bo alternated left turns and right turns until she finally emerged into a high-walled courtyard.

She bit back a curse. She’d ended up on the wrong side of the compound.

It was a trap – baited to perfection. The only question remaining was how the trap was sprung. She slowly circled the pedestal studying the problem from every angle. The blaster rested on a stand atop the pedestal. She glanced up at the light source. Was the trigger in the light beam or another pressure sensor in the pedestal itself? It went without saying that the weapon’s power cell had been removed. She had extras.

She glanced at her chrono once more. No more time for speculating. If she was going to make a move, she had to do it now. Never one to play it safe, Bo pulled a power cell from one of the pouches on her gunbelt and held it in her left hand. Flexing her right hand and fingers she reached for her sidearm. Taking one more deep breath, she released it in a rush. With lightning reflexes, she snatched the pistol from the pedestal and slammed the power cell into the base of the grip.

Immediately alarms went off and warning lights strobed and flared around her. The door swung shut with a loud clang.

Bo Barron stepped lightly across the floortiles. Pressure sensors dotted the floor at random intervals. The key was not to set them off. Moving quickly and with the lithe grace honed by years of zero gee exercises, she slipped through the tangle of sensors unnoticed. Once she reached the fortified door at the far end of the room, she pulled a sequence changer from her pocket and held it close to the door lock.

The changer softly hummed and whined as it manipulated the data inside the locking mechanism. After an interminable moment, the display shifted from red to green and a dull click echoed loudly in the silent chamber.

She palmed the door open and stepped inside. Her amber eyes darted around. In the center of the chamber, on a pedestal and under a brilliant blue light sat the Capre X2S Mergent Arms blaster pistol that had been handed down from Barron to Barron for centuries.

It was too obvious.

She held her position. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the pedestal.

It was a trap.