Star Wars - Truce at Bakura

by Kathy Tyers

  been cast in iron.

  Luke stayed at attention. Just as Nereus's face wore two expressions, he

  was of palpably different minds. It would be difficult for such a man to

  accept Rebels as allies.

  The gloved governor's savor in the Force licked and pushed at him. Nereus

  had an uncontrollable compulsion to dominate people, and that kept his

  delegation at attention. Luke knew the type his ways were the only sensible

  ways. Anyone who countered him would capture his attention only long enough to

  be squashed the quintessential Imperial governor.

  Luke kept himself open to perceive intent all around. So many nervous

  flickers tremored through the Force that simply looking calm strained his

  control. He didn't intend to get fried by a trigger-happy trooper before Leia

  talked out a treaty.

  As Leia and Governor Nereus continued a guarded conversation, he

  stretched deeper and opened himself toward them again. Leia calm and poised,

  not intimidated by Nereus. The governor a facade of trained manners, the

  compulsion to dominate, and--underlying both--a gut-wrenching sense of terror.

  Surely not of us. Again Luke thought of the despondent, n-q-human presences on

  that Ssi-ruuvi fightership. Had he contacted captive Bakurans?

  Obviously the governor meant to leap in any direction that offered

  protection. As hostile as he acted in front of his troopers, he could easily

  jump into the Alliance camp.

  Temporarily.

  In a civilian shuttlecraft offered for their ride to the city, Luke

  relayed that impression to Han.

  "Yeah," Han muttered quietly. "He could jump into our camp, all right. Or

  he could torpedo it. Want to place bets?"

  Luke's formal trousers clung to his legs, clammy with the pervasiv e

  Bakuran dampness. Leia sat in front of him, lovely in her hooded white

  senatorial gown. She stared out the window of the plushly upholstered

  shuttlecraft. Sure enough, the Bakuran senate had requested that they attend

  an immediate emergency session.

  Abruptly Leia straightened. "Threepio, what do I need to know about

  protocol?"

  "I'm afraid that is not in my program." Threepio already wore his

  magneto-fixed restraining bolt, and his tone sounded whinier than ever. Artoo

  interrupted with an electronic whistle. "What? Master Luke downloaded the data

  files from that probe into your memory banks? Why didn't you say so, you

  overstuffed recycle cylinder?"

  Artoo chattered back at length. Then Threepio answered Leia, "All I am

  able to ascertain is that Bakura was once governed by a prime minister and

  senate, but all real authority now rests in the Imperial governorship."

  "Tell us something new," Han remarked aside.

  A Bakuran pilotstguide brought them in low over a huge wedge-shaped

  building punctured by two wide greenwell arcs. "This is the Bakur complex,"

  announced the pilot's assistant, linking one arm around a silver stabilizer

  bar. She stared at Chewbacca. Luke guessed she'd never seen a Wookiee.

  The complex appeared to fill several hectares between two radial

  highways, and bordered the round city-center park along its southwestern arc.

  "The complex includes guest and resident housing, Imperial offices, a major

  medical center, and the grand old parkside building that was our seat of

  government under the Bakur Corporation."

  Leia looked down, as if she were watching huge, vine-covered trees flit

  across the complex's rooftop. Actually, Luke guessed, she was mentally

  reviewing Imperial protocol. Bakura's freedom rested on her ability to

  negotiate this truce. Han, beside her in the shuttle's front seat, fiddled

  with his blaster.

  At a rooftop landing pad, they transferred to a repulsor tram for a rapid

  ride across the large complex. Their guide kept up the tour, concluding, "The

  corporation wing of the Bakur Memorial Building was built over a hundred years

  ago, overlooking Statuary Park at city center. Please remain seated until the

  car comes to a complete stop." The tram slid under a vine-draped arch and

  decelerated.

  "Wait, Leia." Han sprang up.

  Luke slipped out his own side of the tram. Leia kept her seat for a few

  seconds. "I believe this archway is suitably secure," Threepio's observation

  drifted through an open hatch. "Still, we must be certain of safety."

  Leia poked her head out Luke's side. "Listen," she said, "if they mean to

  hurt us, the entire mission has already failed."

  Han glanced over the tram. "Right. Okay on this side, Luke."

  Luke swung around to the rear of the car and uncarted Artoo. The droid

  whistled jauntily and extended his tricycle wheels. Han and Chewie stepped out

  ahead of Leia and Threepio. Luke followed, trailed by Artoo. Door wardens in

  gold-trimmed violet doublets and hose admitted them to a spacious hallway

  carpeted in black. Gold traceries ran like veins of precious metal up a row of

  columns built in double-wedge style, then crisscrossed overhead on a vaulted

  ceiling. "Red marble," Leia murmured.

  "Worth a fortune, if you could smuggle it out," Han answered over his

  shoulder. He followed one door warden. After a few mincing steps in imitation,

  he shifted back into his watchful stride with glances to left and right,

  behind every pillar, and toward each open door. Luke listened intently through

  the Force for flickers of aggression. He sensed nothing. Leia walked serenely

  ahead of him, at the center of the group beside her protocol droid.

  The violet-legged warden stopped at an arch carved of glistening white

  stone. A rough wooden wall blocked most of it, with scanners hovering on

  silent repulsorlifts over each side and four Imperial stormtroopers standing

  guard. The sight of them gave Luke a fight-or-flight surge of adrenaline.

  "They're here illegally," Leia murmured. "We are the galaxy's rightful envoy

  to Bakura."

  "Tell that to them." Han glowered at the stormtroopers. Luke stared up

  into one sensor's glossy round eye. Artoo's dome swiveled around and around as

  his own sensors scanned the hallway.

  "Weapons check." A trooper bent over Leia and spoke in a metallic voice.

  "Leave all ordnance in a security locker." He gestured toward a bank of palm-

  keyed receptacles across the archway.

  Leia spread her empty hands and then folded them mock-submissively. Luke

  crossed the arch, selected a cubicle, and then palmed its lock while pressing

  a button to key the locker to his hand print. He drew his blaster from its

  belt holster and laid it inside. "Come on, Han," he said softly.

  Han had followed him, tailed slowly by Chewie and Leia. Han didn't seem

  happy about it, but he keyed a cubicle of his own and set his blaster inside.

  Leia cleared her throat.

  Han shot her a look that might've fried lead, then pulled out his boot

  knife, the pocket blaster from his wrist sheath, and his favorite vibroknife.

  Chewbacca was easing off the bandolier for his bowcaster when Luke's

  subconscious tossed up a suggestion. "Chewie," he said softly, "stay with the

  locker. Artoo, you too."

  Chewie's lips drew back in pleasure, and he wrinkled his black nose. The

 
; big Wookiee had little use for politics and no trust for Imperials. He would

  love to stand guard.

  Leia led the group back toward the arch.

  "Stop right there," said the stormtrooper who'd spoken before. He pointed

  at Luke's lightsaber. "That's a weapon, too."

  Luke extended a tendril of Force energy and answered soberly, "This is a

  symbol of honor. Not an offensive weapon. Let it pass."

  "Let it pass," echoed the stormtrooper in the same sober tone.

  Recovering, he added, "I'd leave the droid at the door. Droid malfunctions

  nearly killed the first crew of Bakuran colonists."

  "Sir," protested Threepio, "my function is--"

  "Thank you," Leia said firmly. None of them were forgetting that

  restraining bolt. "Threepio will wait just inside."

  A door warden announced, "Senator Princess Leia Organa, of Alderaan.

  And"--he waved a hand vaguely--?and escorts."

  CHAPTER 7

  Leia led them through the arch and mounted four broad steps into a vast

  square chamber. Luke followed, matching Han step for step, hoping he'd done

  the right thing by keeping his lightsaber. He didn't want to offend the entire

  Bakuran senate by carrying in a weapon, but they might not recognize it as

  dangerous. He also hoped Leia would've challenged him if she'd thought it

  important.

  The chamber was square under a tiled ceiling, and in each corner stood a

  tall, glassy pillar. Most of the senators were human, with only two

  exceptions tall, white-skinned individuals with corrugated scalp instead of

  hair. Luke opened himself to listen through the Force. A babble surrounded

  him, the textures of forty or fifty nervous minds. Narrowing his focus, he

  reached straight across the chamber toward a massive repulsor chair, all gold

  and purple except for two banks of controls on the armrests. Wilek Nereus must

  have caught a faster shuttle. He sat there already, with his double-mindedness

  coming through as strongly as ever.

  Luke let his attention drift leftward, observing the senators' reactions

  to Leia. He sensed curiosity tinged with hostility, but a dark undercurrent of

  fear also pervaded the chamber. This world was under attack.

  "Stay here, Threepio." Leia halted atop the stairs and faced Governor

  Nereus. "Good morning again, Governor."

  His heavy eyebrows lowered. "Come in," he said. "Come down."

  They stepped forward and down to the central rectangle. Floor seams

  showed where it could be slid aside. Luke had a disconcerting flash of memory

  that included a trapdoor and a huge, slavering Rancor that'd almost devoured

  him. Thrusting the image aside, he glanced around the chamber. The Bakuran

  senators displayed all common shades of human skin, a subtle blending of blood

  lines.

  One trim, athletic-looking man with thick white hair, who sat below

  Governor Nereus at an inner table, extended a hand. "Welcome to Bakura," he

  said. "I am Prime Minister Yeorg Captison. Under normal circumstances, you

  would have had a protocol briefing, and I apologize for the haste with which

  this meeting was convened, but certainly you understand."

  Leia--who'd barely acknowledged Governor Nereus--made a deep, deliberate

  curtsey to the older man. Luke scanned him. The prime minister's charisma made

  a glimmer in the Force only a shade dimmer than Mon Mothma's. Luke glanced

  back up at Nereus, wondering why the governor hadn't eradicated him. Captison

  must've been very careful. Or did he have Imperial connections?

  "Please don't apologize," said Leia. "This is a desperate hour."

  Another inner-table man stood up. "Blaine Harris, defense minister. You

  have no idea how desperate. All of our outposts on the other planets in the

  system have been destroyed. Our salvage crews that survived to report back

  found no bodies and no survivors." Harris's fear shot an answering shiver down

  Luke's back. Hastily he swept his focus leftward along that table, feeling

  echoes of fear, hope, and hostility. When he reached its end, he worked toward

  the right along the outer, upper table.

  A sharp-chinned young woman sat third from the left. He paused, startled

  by the way she resonated the Force back to him. Like a deep, slow thrum, her

  prese nce echoed his probe with a rich overlay. It wasn't Force strength of her

  own--at least, he didn't think so--but a unique energizing effect on his

  awareness. He'd never experienced it before. Hurriedly, he slammed off all

  perception but his five senses. He mustn't let her distract him.

  Nereus's strident voice carried distinctly across the chamber; he'd

  placed his throne at an acoustic focus point. "Princess Leia, do you

  understand what you are up against?"

  Leia laid a hand on an inner tabletop. "No," she admitted. "We came to

  answer a distress call, to show that the Alliance has no grudges against

  Imperial-ruled peoples, only the Empire itself."

  Nereus curled his lips. "I thought not. Ellsworth," he ordered into the

  air, "run the Sibwarra recording. Your Highness, come up here and stand with

  me. Bring your escorts."

  Mounting the carpeted stairs behind Leia, Luke glanced left again. The

  young woman stared back, resting her chin on one open hand. Light brown hair

  swept around her face, framing pale flower-petal skin and an intent

  expression. Although she leaned forward, her slender shoulders set proudly

  straight. He didn't dare touch her with the Force again--not yet--but her very

  presence electrified him. Visually striking. Not blindingly beautiful, but

  striking. Control! he reminded himself sharply. You're here to help Leia!

  Servomotors whirred behind him. Ahead, Leia drew even with Governor

  Nereus's chair, then she pivoted to look back. Luke stopped on the step below

  her and took the same position. Threepio gleamed on the other side of the

  room. Hovering over the place where they'd stood, a holographic projection

  appeared. It was a young human male with muddy-cream colored skin, short black

  hair, and a sweet face with prominent cheekbones. He wore a white robe with

  blue and green side stripes.

  "Humans of Bakura, rejoice!" said the... boy? man? "I am Dev Sibwarra of

  G'rho. I bring you warm greetings of the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium, a culture of many

  worlds that stretches its hand out to you. Our flagship is the mighty

  Shriwirr, a Ssi-ruuvi ^w that means "ripe with eggs."' We are approaching your

  galaxy at the behest of your own Emperor."

  Luke glanced across at the young senator. When the invader's image had

  appeared, she'd withdrawn, clenching her hands on the tabletop and pushing

  straight-armed back into her chair. Cautiously he brushed her with the Force

  again. Fear and revulsion streamed out of her, but beneath those dark emotions

  hid a sensation as deep as a shifting pool full of jewel-toned colors.

  Bemused, he shook his head. That didn't make any sense. But that was how it

  felt.

  He'd percvd all this in an instant. The holo image spoke on, "Bakurans,

  be glad! The joy that we bring goes beyond mere sensory happiness. Yours is

  the privilege of assisting the Ssi-ruuk to liberate"--the boy's grasping

  gesture looked more like taking than liberating--?the oth
er worlds of the

  galaxy. You are the first, the spearhead! What an honor!

  "As humans, you have inestimable value to my masters. From them, you will

  receive lives without pain, without need, without fear."

  "Watch this," Nereus muttered.

  The recording shifted. Several dull brown, saurian aliens clustered

  around a metallic pyramid that Luke recognized instantly. Antennae and laser

  cannon bristled at its four corners, swiveling thrusters filled its four

  faces, and scannerstsensor clusters surrounded each thruster. It lay on some

  kind of control console.

  Full recognition blasted through Luke's mind. He recognized the

  creatures, too... from his disturbing dream back at Endor.

  The boy's voice kept speaking. "Here you see the most beautiful fighting

  spacecraft in the galaxy. Even if you never dared to dream of flying the

  stars, we have one of these fighters for each of you. Your life energies will

  leap into one of these battle droids. You will soar between planets--"

  Life energies. Luke recalled the human presences he'd touched, despairing

  and anguished. He leaned forward.

  The robed boy reappeared. "To allay your fears, let me show you a bit of

  the entechment procedure. Then when the time comes, you may greet your destiny

  with joy." A smaller image appeared beside him. A man sat on a chair, anchored

  to it with clear binders, head lolling. Luke squinted. [those tubes stuck into

  his throat? A smaller holographic image-within-an-image of the robed boy

  lowered a glowing white metal arc around the man. The small image froze.

  "It is joy," said the larger image. "It is peace. It is freedom. It is

  our gift to you." He stretched out a pale palm.

  Those had been humans they'd been fighting. Luke clenched his hands. The

  Ssi-ruuk weren't simple slavers, but robbers of souls....

  Senator Gaeriel Captison shuddered and pulled her warm blue shawl up on

  her shoulders. "Who does he think he's fooling?" she whispered.

  "They got him young," answered the senator on her right. "Look at him. He

  acts just like a Flutie. He must even think like one."

  Gaeri stopped watching. She'd seen this recording ten times, starting the

  afternoon it abruptly overrode all tri-D screens, vid monitors, and

  entertainment channels on the planet. The senate had studied and dissected it