Star Wars - Truce at Bakura Page 19

  toggled a large switch, then said aloud--but softly, "Disruption bubble

  generator. I can't leave it on for more than a few seconds at once. You're in

  danger."

  "What's wrong?"

  "The Ssi-ruuk have approached Governor Nereus." She slid her hand back

  into the satchel. "Is your party comfortable here, Commander?" she asked full-

  voice.

  He had to think quickly. "The situation's a little awkward," he answered.

  "I have an allergic reaction to stormtrooper armor."

  Good, she mouthed. She raised her right eyebrow, over the green eye, then

  twisted her wrist again and softly said, "They've asked Governor Nereus to

  surrender you and offered to leave Bakura if he does."

  The dream-warning rushed back into his mind. So, they meant to move

  through Nereus. "Naturally, he's tempted."

  "I don't think so. He's not stupid. If they want you alive, he's going to

  make sure they don't get you that way." She glanced down and moved her hand

  again. "We all have to deal with our automatic reactions, I suppose," she

  announced.

  So much for Leia's assurance that Nereus wouldn't harm them. Now the fun

  begins. "The accommodations are excellent, though." He motioned toward a

  corner lounge. "I've been on my feet all day. Please. Sit down, so I can."

  "I don't think I should."

  He overlaid his voice with a calming veneer of Force overtones. "I wish

  you would trust me."

  She slid her hand back into the string bag. "I suppose my reaction to

  Jedi is like yours to stormtroopers."

  "I'm learning to suppress mine."

  "So am i. Eppie was still sleeping when I went back." She glanced away,

  then mumbled, "Thank you. Now... my aide and I intercepted a transmission from

  the Ssi-ruuk. Governor Nereus asked for one day to arrange things."

  "One day." Luke nodded. "Thank you."

  Shift. "Is there anything your alien requires? What did you say he was, a

  Wook?"

  "Wookiee. Nothing special, just twice as much food as the rest of us."

  "I understand." She worked the generator again. "They wouldn't come after

  you the way they'd grab one of us plain folks, you know. Neither will Governor

  Nereus. Watch your back. Watch your guards. Watch what you eat and drink and

  breathe."

  "What do the Ssi-ruuk want me for?"

  She shrugged.

  "I'll be careful," he said quietly. Nereus would probably try to play all

  angles, convincing the Ssi-ruuk he meant to cooperate.

  Maybe he did.

  "Have you eaten this evening?" Gaeriel asked. "I can have a light dinner

  sent to my suite and then diverted here."

  Touched, Luke brushed at a grease stain on his coverall, then hid it

  under one hand. "Would you?"

  Once she'd called over the comm center for something he couldn't

  remember, let alone pronounce, awkward silence fell. Luke held his peace,

  wondering what she would say if he waited. At last she stopped pacing around

  the room, looking out the long window into the greenwell, and up at the

  ceiling. She glanced over at him. "Are you listening to me think?" she asked

  boldly.

  Her string bag lay on the repulsor lounge. "I can't do that," he said

  carefully. "Some of your feelings come through the Force, but that's all." Not

  really all.

  "That's still not fair. I can't tell what you're feeling."

  Luke slid out the gray box and found the control. "Would you like to know

  what I'm feeling?"

  "Yes."

  He drew a deep breath. Honesty was one thing, stupidity another. He

  wished he had Leia's gift for turning a phrase. "I already know you on a

  deeper level than anyone else does. Of course, that makes it worse, because

  all you know about me is what you think you believe." Had he said that right?

  He plowed on. "Your feelings are strong for me. Strongly ambivalent."

  She walked toward the lounger. "It's not that I'm afraid of you,

  Commander--"

  "Luke," he insisted.

  "I have a religious objection to what you are. What you've become. You

  weren't born a Jedi. And you'd better turn that back off for a few seconds, or

  we'll both be in trouble." Then he caught it through the Force, a swirl of

  intense attraction that had not come from him. Five years ago, he might have

  seized her hand and sworn away everything--the Fleet, the Alliance, and the

  Force.

  But those five years had molded his destiny. Perhaps he could change her

  mind.

  He caught himself. What right did he have to chip at her beliefs? She

  drew on the Force like anyone else, though she couldn't accept it.

  Quickly, he switched the field off. "How long have you been a senator?"

  he asked. Surely that could be considered casual conversation.

  "The senate elected me five years ago. I've been in school ever since,

  either here or at Imperial Center. And don't be too impressed with the

  position." She tapped her thumbs together. "It mostly involves finding

  creative ways to drain tax credit out of Bakurans. Now we've got an influx of

  Imperial data flow and culture to support, too. Some of it's very good," she

  added, "but some of it only appeals to a few people who think like Governor

  Nereus."

  In every subjugated culture, there'd be a few people who welcomed the

  Empire because they were already Imperials at heart. "I don't think you're one

  of them."

  She glanced at the generator. Perhaps the conversation was getting too

  personal for comfort. "Does it always rain this much?" he asked. "I was raised

  on a desert world."

  After a few more noncommittal comments on the weather, he turned the

  generator back on. "I will respect your fears," he said. "And your beliefs."

  The door chimed.

  Gaeri sprang up and opened it, grateful for the distraction. She had no

  business flirting with destiny this way, and no hope of bringing Luke

  Skywalker to understand the universe as she saw it.

  One of her personal staff pushed a hover cart through the door. Gaeri

  motioned for the staffer to park it between their chairs. Once he had gone,

  she uncovered the single plate. "I hope you like seafood." Raised on a desert

  world--and this is twice in two days.

  "Would you stay?"

  "Forgive my cowardice, Luke, but..."

  ^wlessly he unhooked a cylindrical silvery object from his belt and laid

  it on the repulsor cart. Long enough to grip two-handed, it looked like half

  of a weapon.

  "Is that what I think it is?" she asked softly.

  "You may be safer here than at home." His face colored. "Sorry," he

  added. "I sound like a swaggering stormtrooper."

  At least he could laugh at himself. She hesitated. For a few minutes,

  she'd probably be safe. "There are two of them out in that corridor," she

  reminded him, "and if I were you, I wouldn't trust them any more. St--th

  smells very fresh. I'll join you."

  Evidently he did like seafood, because he ate like a starving man. She

  blunted her hunger with a few delicately seasoned bites. In a few minutes, he

  reached for the projector, which now lay on the cart beside his lightsaber.

  "Do most Bakurans share your beliefs?" h
e asked.

  Relieved that he'd brought up the subject, she answered, "Many are

  stricter. My sister is an ascetic. She lives with almost nothing in order to

  free up more for everyone else. I'm less... devoted. We're a minority, but the

  weight of the universe could balance on one rightly placed atom."

  "I can feel through the Force that you're a woman of depth. Of deep

  feelings."

  "I thought I'd convinced everyone that I'm a career politician."

  "Everyone else seems convinced."

  "Good," she said lightly. Mustn't look at his eyes--but they're such a

  delicate blue.

  "The Ssi-ruuk are out there." He gestured with his fork. "I have a day,

  at most, to get ready for them."

  "Less."

  "Once I settle with them, I'll come back - - fftalk with you, Gaeriel--if

  there's any hope that you'd reconsider about me. About Jedi. You were only

  partially right when you said I wasn't born a Jedi. The Force is strong in my

  family."

  Startled, she sipped from the water glass. Part of her head had guessed

  he might say something like this, and part of her heart had longed to hear it.

  Why not admit it? she asked herself. See how he reacts. "Thank you for being..

  . honest. We have no time to be socially correct. And I'm drawn to you, which

  is dangerous."

  He shook his head. "I wouldn't--"

  "Yes, you would. If I encouraged you." She stared down at her clasped

  fingers. "You could manipulate people easily if you chose to."

  "I wouldn't," he repeated, blushing. "That would be dishonest. There's no

  future in it."

  She fingered her pendant. "What are you, Luke Skywalker? What gives you

  the right to these powers?"

  "I'm a..." He faltered. "A farm boy, I guess."

  "A family of Force-strong farm boys?" she asked sarcastically.

  The high color drained from his face. She must've struck a nerve. "Think

  of it this way," he murmured, scraping the last morsel off his plate. "There

  will always be people who are strong for evil. If the only way to protect

  others is for a few of us to become strong in the Force for good, isn't that

  important? Even if your beliefs are correct, and that means bringing someone

  else low? People constantly sacrifice themselves for good causes. I didn't ask

  anyone to die for me."

  Almost persuaded, she resisted his seeming genuineness. "The Cosmos must

  balance."

  "I agree. The dark side calls constantly for aggression, revenge,

  betrayal. The stronger you become, the more you're tempted."

  That made her hand tremble. "Then if you, you loved someone, you could

  easily hate them."

  He glanced down at the generator and raised an eyebrow.

  She forced herself to ignore the hurt in his eyes. "No need for the

  generator," she said. "We could easily be eating in silence."

  "Here's another balance." He pressed a hand to his dirt-streaked

  forehead. "The mountaintops in my life are balanced by canyons. I've lost

  friends, family, teachers. The Empire killed most of them. If I'd never even

  begun my Jedi training, they'd still be dead." He frowned. "Actually, I'd be

  dead too. The day I met my first teacher, the Empire struck our farm. They

  butchered my Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru while I was away. Everyone who was home

  died. Haven't they done that here too? Do you approve of the Empire?"

  "That's a loaded question."

  "Do you?" he pressed.

  Of course she did. Didn't she? "The Empire has seized more power than any

  government needs," she admitted. "Yet it balances submission with privilege.

  One advantage to living under the Empire is a wonderful range of educational

  opportunities. Bright children may study right at Imperial Center."

  He made a wry face. "I've heard that the brightest don't get to go home."

  How did he know that? Some stayed on, offered lucrative employment. Some

  vanished. She'd preferred to go home. "Let's say we learned to hold back a

  little. Imperial leadership has been good for Bakura, anyway. It restored

  order when we were close to civil war. It has drawbacks, but I'm sure your

  people would tell you that the Alliance has problems."

  "They're the problems of freedom."

  That stung. "You frightened us when your battle group arrived. The Rebel

  Alliance's reputation is destructive, not constructive."

  "I guess from an Imperial point of view, it could be. But we're not.

  Honest."

  He's no diplomat. "Thank you for talking this through," she said. "I feel

  better--"

  "I wish I did."

  his--And more certain of myself," she lied firmly. She reached into the

  satchel, twisted her wrist, then slipped the bag over one shoulder. "We will

  work together against the Ssi-ruuk."

  He made a hand-twisting motion. She switched on the generator one last

  time. "Is there a chance we--I--cd buy a few of those?" He pointed inside the

  string bag.

  She shook her head. "This is Eppie's. There are only a few of them left

  on Bakura, property of the original families. We've kept them secret from

  Governor Nereus."

  "That's too bad."

  "Yes, it is," Gaeri agreed. "I'll take the hover cart out."

  He clipped his lightsaber back onto his belt.

  Luke walked her to the door. He wanted to stroke her hand, reason with

  her, erode her defenses with the Force. Even begging seemed reasonable.

  Instead, he palmed the door open and then thrust his thumbs through his belt.

  "Thank you," she said. The stormtrooper guards watched as she pushed the

  hover cart out and strode down the hall without looking back. Once she

  vanished around a corner, Luke dropped his hands. He clenched them, loosened

  them, and clenched them again. His abilities had always opened doors. Doors

  into danger, both in space and in the brighter, darker, wider spaces of his

  own soul, but he'd always had the freedom to walk through.

  Gaeriel had tried to slam this door in his face, but she hadn't

  succeeded. He'd felt the conflict within her. She might not fight him forever.

  Then again, she might. Exhausted, he shut the apartment door behind him

  and strode up the hall in the opposite direction. A roof access door opened on

  his left. He pushed through and rode the lift up.

  By night, the roof garden could have been primitive, isolated forest.

  Still air cooled his face. Clusters of white tree trunks branched out of

  protruding root wads, then swept up and ended in bright yellow-orange twigs,

  damp but no longer dripping. Two small round moons and several dozen bright

  stars shone overhead, and night glims edged a stone path between dark, mossy

  banks.

  As he paced away from the lift shaft, the path branched. Several meters

  down the narrow spur toward the complex's edge, he knelt on a bench, rested

  his elbows on the restraining wall, and looked down. The circles of the city

  stretched out around him, lit by hovering blue-white street lamps at the

  center, then pale yellow, fading to reddish--

  Like a diagram of star types. The comparison leaped into his mind. Salis

  D'aar's founders must have laid out the city for navigation by star colors,

  with the finest homes--like the C
aptisons' mansion--in the zone that

  represented warm, hospitable yellow suns.

  The moment of insight cheered him. It wasn't wrong for a human to learn

  to use natural talents. If Gaeriel's religion were carried to its logical end,

  everyone would have to be equal--even identical--in all respects, for fear of

  diminishing anyone else.

  And his life was no longer his own.

  He thought he could make out slow-moving pinpricks of light overhead that

  would be ships in the orbiting defense web. Locked in position with other

  ships, joined by common orders and a common enemy.

  Many of those pilots had life mates to return to--or, at the last need,

  to grieve them. The stronger he became in the Force, the harder it might

  become to find a woman who'd have him.

  He opened his empty hands. "Ben?" he whispered. "Ben, please come. I need

  to talk with someone."

  Not even a breeze answered. Along the wall's surface, a black creature

  the size of his smallest finger humped on twenty legs. He concentrated on the

  rhythms of those legs, focusing his spirit. After it vanished into a crack, he

  called again. "Master Yoda? Are you near?"

  Foolish question. Yoda was with the Force and therefore everywhere. But

  he did not answer.

  "Father?" he called hesitantly, then repeated, "Father," wondering if

  Anakin understood. He tried to imagine himself in Gaeri's place. With her home

  world threatened and her life in peril, into the crisis came a man who

  frightened her. A Jedi.

  He felt someone approach. Ben? he thought, but the intensity wasn't that

  of a master, and it carried the restless striving of a living person. Light

  footfalls hurried down the path. Leia hesitated at the branching, her white

  gown glimmering between vine-shadowed white trees.

  "I'm over here," he called softly.

  She hurried up beside him. "Are you all right?" She pulled a blue Bakuran

  knit shawl around her shoulders. "I heard--well, I thought I heard you call

  out through the Force."

  She'd tracked him this way at Cloud City, too. He sank down onto the

  bench. "It's been a long, rough day. How was yours?"

  "Uh," she answered, "good. I left Artoo and Threepio with Prime Minister

  Captison." A self-conscious excitement begged him not to notice. She tingled

  with eagerness.

  Envious, he said, "Let it flow, Leia. He loves you."