Star Wars - Truce at Bakura Read online

  Bluescale blinked and stomped close enough that Dev smelled him. "Legs,

  too?"

  He pulled his ankles deeper into their bonds. "They move again. But they

  hurt. They're too heavy."

  "Ah." Firwirrung examined a readout and hissed contentment.

  "Neuromuscular control returned in two and seven-twelfths hours, precisely on

  schedule. This is excellent."

  Dev swallowed hard. "It hurts," he repeated in a cracking voice.

  "That should not affect the catchment function. Entech this woman for us,

  Dev."

  "You're not listening." Dev compressed his lips. "It hurts."

  "Hurts?" mocked Bluescale. The alien turned slightly. Abruptly

  recognizing the posture, Dev winced and braced himself. A muscular tail

  slapped his legs so hard Dev saw stars. "Good," Bluescale sang. "We need you

  unwilling, human."

  Firwirrung moved toward him, carrying an oddly shaped hypospray. "You're

  right," he sang back to Bluescale. "Surely the Jedi will not cooperate. Now

  that our war effort depends on fail-safes for controlling Skywalker, we'll try

  this... instead of your talents. Then the victory of our people will not

  depend on the survival of any one of us."

  "It could kill him." The tip of Bluescale's tail twitched threateningly.

  "It will either kill him or force him to obey. How much better to

  maintain professional objectivity on this less valuable subject."

  Less valuable? Master, what are you saying? Panic-stricken, Dev tried to

  writhe away from the hypospray. It burned his thigh for a moment. He waited.

  Then--

  "Entech that woman," ordered Firwirrung.

  Dev blinked. What else were humans good for? He stretched out for her. As

  her essence plunged through him, there was more pain. He heard a scream. A

  male scream that hurt his throat. Then he opened his eyes again, awaiting

  orders.

  Bluescale pulled the Fft knife from his shoulder pouch. Firwirrung

  honked. "Not necessary," he said. "I'd like to leave him there for several

  days, to test the other life-support functions--"

  "But you heard the admiral," Bluescale sang wryly through his nose. "They

  want to begin on Skywalker immediately."

  Several days? Dev trembled and clenched his hands. The left one felt

  seared. He'd probably chipped bones and sliced tendons.

  Firwirrung's scent tongues flicked. "How they stink when they're afraid."

  "They almost behave intelligently at times. Wouldn't it be odd if they

  had souls, when our P'w'ecks do not?"

  "Not a chance." Firwirrung's callousness appalled Dev. "Finish it."

  "Look at me," ordered Bluescale. The eye was black and lovely and

  rounded, and it swirled....

  His hand ached unbelievably. As his foggy brain recognized the sensations

  of a fresh but partial renewal, Master Firwirrung released the last wrist

  restraint on the shining new bed. Blinking, Dev tried to stand upright. He

  tottered between two P'w'ecks, fighting a strange inexplicable weakness.

  Something smelled bad. Human. He sniffed himself. Phew.

  "Did it go well?" he asked Firwirrung. Talking hurt his throat. "Why...

  renewal, why now?"

  "Ah, Dev." Firwirrung stroked his arm with an open foreclaw. "It would

  make you too sad, to remember coming so close to entechment and being denied

  the joy."

  Their kindness and forethought overwhelmed him. "But it worked? Did I

  give him his battle droid?"

  Firwirrung wrapped a foreclaw around Dev's head and pulled it against his

  scaly chest. "It worked. Now we lack only one thing."

  "Skywalker," Dev whispered.

  Firwirrung shoved him away affectionately. "Please go bathe, human."

  CHAPTER 13

  Governor Wilek Nereus marched into the operations room of his suite,

  firmly controlling a sense of anticipation. Ceiling, bare walls, flooring and

  furniture were black in the Ops Room for the easier viewing of projections. At

  the short black conference table, standing across from Commander Thanas and

  beside the fraudulent "General" Solo, he found Commander Luke Skywalker, Jedi

  Knight, self-assured in his invulnerability.

  "Is everything going well, gentlemen?" Nereus took the repulsor chair at

  the table's head and waved his bodyguards back. The others sat down.

  Commander Thanas looked appropriately serious for a man whose career

  rested on Nereus's next biannual report. He was probably eager to redeem

  himself from the Alzoc blot on his record. "All fighters are repaired," said

  Thanas. "The crews stand ready for our signal."

  That attack would not come, if the Ssi-ruuk kept their ^w--not that

  Nereus expected them to. If they took Skywalker and attacked anyway, he and

  Commander Thanas had brought onto line a new weapon that should take a heavy

  toll on battle droids. "What about that new ship-mounted, ah..."

  "DEMP gun," Thanas prompted him. Obviously caught unaware, Skywalker

  glanced over at Thanas and then down to his smuggler friend. "It disables

  droids at some distance using electromagnetic pulse," Thanas explained. "We've

  installed two prototype super-DEMP'S on system patrol craft, but they're

  untested."

  Solo immediately requested DEMP guns for Rebel gunboats. Nereus stroked

  his chin and let Commander Thanas explain that no others existed. While they

  sparred, he slid a miniature medisensor out of his belt pocket, laid it on the

  glossy tabletop, and aimed it at Skywalker.

  Concern, not remorse, made him frown. All readings indicated near-perfect

  health. The man had allegedly ingested a five-year-old egg pod without knowing

  it. Nereus needed to make certain the eggs had been viable, and quickly--but a

  complete medical scan would rouse Skywalker's suspicion, and the Jedi's

  ignorance was a critical factor to success.

  A holographic projector whirred up to table level, creating an image

  midtable between Skywalker and Thanas. Surrounding a pale blue sphere, silver

  and gold ship dots mapped out Bakura's defensive web. Farther out, the red

  Ssi-ruuk glimmered.

  "You people use red for threat, too," Solo observed.

  "Probably standard wherever people bleed red," Skywalker said softly.

  Oh yes, they bleed red. Nereus smiled beneficence and leaned back,

  quietly touching keys on his recessed board and contacting his medical

  department.

  Fifteen minutes later, the others were still talking strategy when his

  medtechs patched the complex medstation's powerful main sensors to his

  handheld model, which still lay on the table. He used directional keys on his

  touchboard to focus a smaller zone between Skywalker's belt and collarbone....

  Two minuscule fourteen-hour larvae squirmed in the left bronchial

  passage. Primitive circulatory systems pumped for dear life.

  There'd been three eggs in the pod, but one Olabrian Trichoid larva was

  deadly. Any good alien parasitologist knew that.

  Solo, who'd pitched insults at both sides for two hours, finally objected

  with a straight face. "Commander Thanas, there's one thing about this I don't

  like. Look." He waved at the projected complete maneuver. "Go back three

  steps," he ordered the programming circuit. Ship dots swirled backw
ard.

  "There," he said. "Stop. Do you see? Y've--"

  Nereus cleared his private screen. Solo paused. Skywalker nudged him to

  continue.

  "You've got Alliance fighting pairs at every point of maximum risk," Solo

  insisted. "Your projection isn't showing losses by subgroup. If you fed those

  in, there'd be a lot less silver dots in the "-pletion"' frame. I don't like

  that."

  Perhaps the smuggler had some grasp of tactics after all, Nereus

  observed. Commander Thanas, who'd been fidgeting with his souvenir pocket

  knife, dropped it into a breast pocket and said, "Commander Skywalker

  suggested I consider your forces my own. If those were my fighters, that's how

  I'd deploy them to minimize overall losses." He keyed his console. "Show phase

  four, with projected losses." The pattern changed. "Now I'll program a switch

  of squadrons to replace half of those key positions with regulars. Fair

  enough, General?"

  Solo spread his hands.

  "There." Commander Thanas touched a key. "Phase four, projected losses,

  with squadrons switched."

  A significant number of specks extinguished, both Imperial and Alliance.

  Skywalker exhaled easily. The cough would probably come in four to six

  hours, depending on his general physical condition--ab two hours before

  massive thoracic hemorrhaging. "Convinced, General Solo?"

  "I suppose."

  Skywalker folded his hands on the table. "I think we can confirm it.

  Alliance forces will spearhead each thrust. We'll break the blockade and cut

  off that cruiser for you to englobe. Destroy one cruiser and we might change

  their minds. Destroy two..." He trailed off. "Well, we'll see what they

  actually throw at us.

  "One more question." Skywalker addressed Commander Thanas. "If the Ssi-

  ruuk go on waiting for us, how long do we keep them waiting?"

  Nereus cleared his throat for attention. "Tomorrow evening," he said. By

  then, young Jedi, you'll be dead.

  "I'd like to move sooner," Thanas said carefully. "The element of

  surprise will work in favor of the attacking--"

  "Tomorrow evening," Nereus repeated. Commander Thanas would have to

  redeem himself according to Nereus's plan, not his own wishes. The whole plan.

  .. or become a slave miner himself. Nereus would make that clear when they met

  privately tonight.

  "Very well," said Thanas. "Commander Skywalker. General Solo. Until

  tomorrow."

  Nereus shook hands all around, keeping his gloves on. Larvae weren't

  transmissible at this stage, but the very idea nauseated him. Olabrian

  Trichoids used almost all higher animals as breeding hosts. He'd tried

  infecting the Ssi-ruuk already, but apparently they destroyed enteched

  prisoners' bodies immediately. Skywalker, he guessed, might be kept around

  long enough to nurse a brood of the large, voracious adults--which emerged

  from a brief pupation already fertile. If the Ssi-ruuk didn't take Skywalker

  offplanet, of course, he'd have to be destroyed tonight. He might even

  volunteer, to head off a planetwide infestation. Young idealism sacrificed

  itself so nobly.

  But Skywalker would almost certainly pass through Pad 12 at least once in

  the next eight hours.

  Luke felt Governor Nereus's stare follow as he and Han strode out of the

  Ops Room. Nereus expected never to see him again.

  Once they passed the first corner, Han muttered, "You have got to be

  kidding, trusting those people."

  Luke answered out one side of his mouth. "Reconsider Commander Thanas."

  "Oh?" Han raised one eyebrow, then turned his head aside to stare down a

  corridor.

  Good. They'd both better stay jumpy. "Straightforward," said Luke. "Wants

  to do a good job and is glad for help. He's not Nereus's man."

  "Empire's man."

  "Mm."

  "Do you like Thanas because he complimented you in there?" Han suggested.

  Luke smiled. "No. But that was refreshing."

  "Compliments from an Imperial. Right."

  They slowed at the edge of a wide lobby. Luke reached out through the

  Force. No one waited there. Han kept one hand near his blaster as they hurried

  across.

  Once they left the Imperial Offices corridor, Han frowned. "Is it my

  imagination," he asked, "or are you being just a little more careful than

  yesterday?"

  "I had ^w from an inside source that Governor Nereus plans to hand me to

  the Ssi-ruuk. Did you notice that he got a message or something during that

  session?"

  "Yeah," said Han. "Finally going to be careful, uh?"

  "I've been careful." Luke's exasperation didn't distract him from

  watching shadows. "And is it my imagination," he came back, "or are you just a

  little more pleased with yourself?"

  Han paused in midstep. "What is this? I suppose you're going to ask my

  intentions toward your sister."

  Luke took a careful look around, then dropped his guard and smiled at

  Han. "I know what your intentions are, friend. She needs you. Just don't let

  her down."

  Han's crooked smile shone like an asteroid beacon. "Not on your life."

  Luke clapped his shoulder. All they'd been through had already bonded

  them like brothers. Now, this--

  Following footsteps snapped him back to attention. He slipped behind a

  pillar and unhooked his saber. Han slid in beside him.

  Three sets of footfalls approached. Luke stayed in his cover. Han raised

  an eyebrow. Luke shook his head. He moved around the pillar, staying behind it

  as the trio passed Nereus, followed by a pair of stormtrooper bodyguards.

  He'd felt so controlled, back in his office. But something in his walk,

  and the faintest hint in his Force-sense, nudged Luke to an unexpected

  conclusion. "He's starting to panic," Luke observed in a whisper.

  "Panic?" Han wrinkled his forehead. "Him?"

  "It's just setting in." The trio's backs receded up the corridor. "We'd

  better watch him."

  "That's nothing new." Han's hands relaxed at his sides.

  Once they reached the apartment, Han disappeared into his room. Luke

  hastily encoded a message to Wedge Antilles, out in the orbital net. Attack

  coordinated for tomorrow night. Work with Governor Nereus's forces, follow

  Thanas's orders, but keep your deflector shields up. Smiling grimly, he sent

  it. Han and Leia were headed for the Falcon as soon as he located her. She'd

  gone off alone after breakfast, but with the attack this imminent, it was time

  to stand ready. Luke would catch the next shuttle to orbit and reboard the

  Flurry. He would enjoy proving Manchisco's premonition wrong.

  His stomach grumbled a more immediate message. He ought to catch lunch,

  but not here. The food at Pad 12's cantina should be nontoxic. "You ready,

  Han?" Luke called.

  Han stepped back out. "Leia's not answering."

  "Maybe she and Captison went someplace where the Imperials couldn 't

  listen to them."

  "Possible," said Han. "Let's get you to the troops. Then I'm going

  looking for her."

  Prime Minister Captison had suggested a drive, and to Leia's surprise,

  Senior Senator Orn Belden climbed aboard with a bulging breast pocket. S
he

  assumed it contained his voice amplifier. This time, the Bakurans wouldn't be

  distracted by droids or Chewbacca.

  Captison's liveried chauffeur steered a closed-cockpit government speeder

  off the roof port. Belden laid a finger across his lips.

  Leia nodded understanding Not yet. "It's a lovely city," she observed

  lightly. "In many ways, Bakura reminds me of Alderaan." She glanced up at a

  layer of broken clouds. "Some of its wetter regions, anyway. Have you explored

  this quartz outcrop for metals?"

  Sitting beside her in the center seat, Captison folded his hands with a

  knowing smile. "Thoroughly. Why do you think they planted the city here?"

  "Ah," said Leia.

  Captison leaned back, looking relaxed. "After a few boom years, the veins

  began to narrow and the Bakur Corporation factioned. My father's element

  wanted to prospect other sites. Another faction lobbied to develop Bakura's

  other resources. Still another--mostly second-generation--wanted to bring in

  settlers at exorbitant fares, or establish a set of luxury resorts."

  "Once the galaxy learns about a newly opened habitable world, it often

  becomes... stylish."

  "Which brings in a certain undesirable element."

  Perhaps he meant rebels and smugglers, or gamblers and trinket sellers.

  "It can."

  Captison laughed. "In many ways, Leia, you remind me of my niece."

  "I wish my life had been as simple as Gaeriel's."

  "She has been a good child," Belden wheezed from the back seat beside

  Captison's bodyguard. "It remains to be seen if she'll be a good senator."

  Prime Minister Captison tapped a window absently. "She has abruptly

  reached the disillusionment phase of new adulthood."

  "I understand," said Leia. "I reached it rather young." Captison's

  chauffeur kept the speeder between two others in a crosstown lane. Salis

  D'aar, like many sizable cities, funneled air traffic along established

  routes.

  "Oh," interjected Senator Belden, "please thank Commander Skywalker for

  trying to help Eppie. He'll know what I mean." Then he started talking about

  mountain soil, namana fruit harvest, and juice extraction.

  Leia waited, wondering when the men would feel safe enough to really

  talk. This could be her only chance to gain headway for the Alliance.

  Five minutes later, Captison's chauffeur landed the speeder at a small

  dome surrounded by gaudy repulsor signs that hovered several meters overhead.