"Kill him!" the mercenary commander roared, panic suddenly cracking his voice. "Open fire!"
Twelve suppressed assault rifles erupted at once.
Dozens of armor-piercing rounds tore through the rain, converging on the spot where Luke stood. The asphalt ripped open. The sedan's steel door turned into shredded Swiss cheese.
But there was no blood. No body.
A split second before the first trigger pull, Luke had vanished from their sights.
He didn't use magic. He used the lethal tactical awareness forged in the Empire's bloodiest border wars. He read the micro-movements of their shoulders, anticipated their firing arcs, and stepped into the closest mercenary's blind spot.
"Where is he?!" a mercenary yelled, frantically sweeping his laser through the rain.
Crack.
The mercenary didn't have
