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Star Wars - Truce at Bakura

Page 15

by Kathy Tyers


  toward Senior Senator Belden. Luke stood still, rubbing his hand and trying to

  visualize Gaeri as a part of his future.

  By the Force, he'd make time to finish that conversation tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 10

  Dev tottered to his feet. He'd awakened on the deck of a round,

  uncomfortably warm cabin full of lights and mechanical sounds. Above

  instrument panels, bulkheads curved inward to join the ceiling.

  This had to be the bridge. He was rarely allowed up here. Bridge security

  was supreme priority. But the Shriwirr's captain and Admiral Ivpikkis hunched

  beside Bluescale. All three slowly blinked at him.

  Apparently the presence of another Force user mattered a great deal.

  He'd known that and forgotten it. What games were they playing with his

  mind? Was he in his right mind now, or deluded by manipulation? Had his

  contact with the stranger, brief as it was, unsettled his mental patterns

  completely?

  "Tell them what you told Elder Sh'tk'ith," Master Firwirrung urged from

  Dev's left side. "It felt like your mother's presence, but male?"

  Barely able to recall the feathery touch of his mother, Dev studied metal

  deck tiles. He hadn't felt homesick like this since finding Firwirrung. He had

  thought they.were home. "Like," he said softly, "but different."

  "How?" asked Firwirrung.

  "This one has the... the shape, the sense of training that Mother had,

  but Mother... was not so strong."

  Admiral Ivpikkis's left eye swiveled from Dev to the captain. The captain

  clicked his foreclaws and repeated, "Strong."

  "Look at me." Bluescale thrust his head forward. The beautiful eye seemed

  to swirl. Up from a corner of Dev's mind bubbled a spring of excitement. This

  was his right mind. He loved them. "Why, if this one's trained," Dev

  exclaimed, "he could contact other humans. Even from a distance!"

  Firwirrung's massive V-marked head turned toward him. "That is an

  interesting idea. How far, do you think?"

  Dev felt freshly energized. "I don't know," he admitted, "but we were

  many light-years away when I felt the emperor's death for you."

  "True," whistled Bluescale. He touched Firwirrung's shoulder scales.

  "With a strong enough direct contact, could you not conduct entechment from a

  distance?"

  "Possibly." Firwirrung twitched his tail. "We might have to modify an

  apparatus... yes. Modify it to keep this strong one alive in a fully

  magnetized state, calling energies from outside."

  Admiral Ivpikkis's tail quivered too. "A pipeline to humans. We could own

  all known space, not merely this empire."

  Catching their excitement, Dev interlaced his fingers and squeezed hard.

  "I observe," said Admiral Ivpikkis, "the need for another shift in

  strategy. First we secure the strong one. Then we test this theory. If in

  practice it works, we can call back to the main force of our fleet...."

  They spoke hurriedly among themselves. Ignored by Bluescale, Dev wilted.

  He could barely follow their speech. He had always been their special pet,

  their beloved human. Would they tail-sweep him aside?

  He touched his throat. He might get his battle droid at last, but at what

  cost? His anticipation curdled like the slop he'd cleaned off the bulkheads.

  Entechment was to have been his reward, not...

  They might entech him simply because they no longer needed him. He wanted

  his battle droid, but he craved their love.

  They turned around simultaneously. Firwirrung stroked Dev's arm, lovingly

  raising red welts. "Help us now. Stretch out to the unseen universe. Give us a

  name, a place. Help us find him."

  "Master," Dev whispered. "Will you always put me first?"

  Firwirrung stroked harder, bringing tears to Dev's eyes. "We have never

  doubted your devotion. Surely you don't mean to make us question it."

  "No, no." Dev felt his face go pale. He had made Firwirrung his family,

  Firwirrung's cabin his home. He had given up his humanity. If Firwirrung

  replaced him, what was left?

  Bluescale lurched forward. "Dev Sibwarra, we need your service as never

  before."

  Dev couldn't tear his eyes off Firwirrung. The entechment chief had

  always implied that he loved Dev, but had he ever actually sang the ^w, love?

  Shaken, Dev took a step backward.

  A P'w'eck wrapped brown foreclaws around Dev's shoulders and held him

  toward Bluescale. The elder lifted a hypospray.

  They couldn't be doing this. The hypospray wouldn't hurt much, but he

  remembered now what would follow. How could they be so unkind, after all he

  had done? Didn't they love him? Didn't Firwirrung? Recognition filtered up out

  of Dev's memory. They'd been unkind before, and before that too.

  This was his right mind. This was Dev Sibwarra, human, restored by

  touching the Outsider... but he couldn't beat his masters' drugs or

  Bluescale's direct domination. He was slipping.

  The hypospray relaxed him as before, though he fought it for the sake of

  his secret. Firwirrung bent close. "Look outward, Dev. Serve us now. Where is

  this one? What is his name? How can we find him?"

  Firwirrung's head blurred. Dev squeezed a salty river out of each eye.

  Then he closed out his grief and his awareness of the Shriwirr's deck, and

  escaped into the Force. He let the swirling universe carry him past his

  masters' dim auras.

  The Outsider felt as strong and as close as before, undeniably masculine

  and kindred, though a second, diffuse feminine presence hung close by. The

  first one's sharply focused light almost washed out the second an echo,

  perhaps? He didn't understand. All that he knew was that love and security

  came from Firwirrung. He avoided touching the Outsider's Force presence. "In

  the capital city," he murmured, half-conscious. "Salis D'aar. The man's name

  is Skywalker. Luke Skywalker." Distracted by the effort of speaking, he opened

  his eyes again. Firwirrung's shallow happy breathing tore at his heart. The

  master didn't care--maybe didn't even know! - - how jealous their attention to

  the Outsider made him. Perhaps Ssi-ruuk never were jealous.

  "Skywalker," repeated Bluescale. "An auspicious name. Well done, Dev."

  Dev relaxed into the Force. Their glee and greed vibrated around him.

  With an unlimited supply of enteched humans, Admiral Ivpikkis could rapidly

  conquer known space. Dev would be part of it.

  Yet he felt humiliated. As much as he resented the Outsider, he opened

  himself to a bare touch, almost a Force caress, of farewell.

  Firwirrung bent close and sang, "Are you unhappy, Dev?"

  His sentiments had seesawed so many times in the last few minutes that he

  was sure of only one thing if they manipulated him once more, he might lose

  his sanity. He shut his eyes and nodded. "I am content, Master." I hate you I

  hate you I hate you. They would not twist his humanity. No more games with his

  mind.

  Yet he could not hate Firwirrung, the only family he had known for five

  years. The emotion softened. He dared to reopen his eyes. "Master," he

  whispered, "my highest pleasure is to help those who love me." He forced

  himself to gaze fondly at Firwirrung.

 
; Firwirrung honked thoughtfully. Plainly the entechment chief's pleasure

  was not compassion this time, but control. He touched Bluescale with one

  foreclaw. "Elder, Dev has grown close to having true love for our kind. Let

  him stretch a little. Let the decision to serve me be of his own free will.

  That is higher affection."

  Dev shuddered. Firwirrung had already enslaved him, spirit and soul. Now

  he wanted Dev willingly to tighten the cords of his own bondage. That might be

  Firwirrung's mistake.

  Dev laid a hand on Firwirrung's upper forelimb, making the gesture as

  Ssi-ruuvi as he could. "This is my master," he crooned. At any moment,

  Bluescale might look into his eyes or smell the deception.

  "You see?" said Firwirrung. "Our relationship broadens."

  "Take your pet and go," said Admiral Ivpikkis. "Abuse it as you will. We

  have work to do, as do you. Busy your mind with the modifications... for

  Skywalker."

  Firwirrung rocked his head gravely and swept a foreclaw toward the hatch.

  Every step away from Bluescale took him that much farther from

  enslavement. Dev reached the hatchway, then the corridor. The hatch slid shut

  behind Firwirrung.

  An hour later, forgotten as Firwirrung busied himself with schematic

  drawings, Dev curled up in the sleeping pit's warm center. How had his mother

  taught him to open contact? It had been five years. His ordeal had exhausted

  him. He wanted to lie still and fondle sweet memories.

  But he must try before Bluescale renewed him again, and there wasn't much

  time. The Ssi-ruuk would catch him eventually. They "renewed" him every ten or

  fifteen days, even if he didn't feel needy. He'd pay for this with the deepest

  renewal of his life, but he owed humankind one effort.

  He closed his eyes and emptied himself of hope, repentance, and

  bitterness. Fear wouldn't leave. It tinged his control, but he touched the

  Force through it.

  Almost instantly, he felt that brilliance again. He flicked at its edge

  for attention, then formed an urgent warning in his mind.

  Luke flung thermal covers away into darkness. One slithered off the edge

  of his bed's repulsor field. For a cold, sleepy instant, he couldn't remember

  what had awakened him. Then he recalled a dark, urgent sense of fear and

  warning. Humanity was in peril because of him. The aliens meant to take him

  prisoner, and...

  Whoa.

  Exhaling, he lay back down. Artoo burbled at him from the foot of the

  bed. "I'm all right," he insisted. What a dream. He had to guard against

  inflating his ego. He might be the last--and first--Jedi, but he was no focal

  point for humanity's enslavement.

  Yet the memory didn't fade as a dream would. Perhaps someone had honestly

  warned him of something.

  Ben? he called. Obi-wan? Why is this happening?

  Forget questions, he commanded himself. There is no why. Search your

  feelings.

  He cast aside fear and false humility and reconsidered the warning in

  light of the Ssi-ruuk's known intentions and methods. In that context, the

  concept felt chillingly real.

  What kind of terrible mistake had Ben Kenobi made, sending him here? Jedi

  masters weren't perfect. Yoda had believed Luke would die at Cloud City. Ben

  had thought he could train Anakin Skywalker.

  He curled his arms around his knees. If Yoda and Ben could make mistakes,

  Luke Skywalker could too. Fatal ones.

  If the warning were real, some trace would show in the future. Like ship

  sightings from a distance, visions of the future sometimes conflicted, but any

  hint that he could help the Ssi-ruuvi war effort would confirm the eerie

  warning.

  He calmed himself, steadied his breathing and heartbeat, and reached

  forward to scan the future in his mind. Some things were hidden from him, and

  some possibilities he glimpsed looked ludicrously unlikely. Seconds, minutes,

  months later, he spotted the possibility a map of the future showing the Ssi-

  ruuvi Imperium stretching into the Core worlds. As Han feared, they had

  blundered into a trap--but it was worse than they'd anticipated.

  And the Ssi-ruuk were about to invade Bakura.

  Dev rolled over, clutching cushions. It.was a Jedi out there. This time

  he'd felt the unmistakable, trained control--even when barely awakened.

  Firwirrung's cabin gleamed under brilliant lights, but he didn't feel

  rested. "Master?" he murmured. "Is it time to get up?"

  Firwirrung climbed out of the pit. "Hatch alarm," he whistled. "It's for

  me. Go back to sleep."

  Dev curled up tighter but kept one eye open. When the hatch slid aside, a

  massive blue shape appeared. "Come in." Firwirrung's greeting warbled with

  surprise. "Welcome."

  Bluescale marched toward the bed pit. Dev tried to uncurl, but his

  muscles stayed taut. He guessed what was coming The elder had changed his

  mind and doomed him. The rounded rim guard of a paddle beamer protruded from

  his shoulder bag.

  "Admiral Ivpikkis has conceived a new mission for our young human ally,"

  Bluescale sang. "He must be freshly renewed before it begins."

  Panicking, Dev wanted to spring up and run away. But where would he run?

  Firwirrung blinked slowly. "Then it is my honor to submit Dev to you."

  Bluescale closed a massive foreclaw around Dev's right arm and yanked him

  upright. Dev kicked and tried to settle his feet on the firm deck.

  Bluescale released him. "Precede me," he whistled. "Firwirrung shall

  follow."

  Dev plodded out the hatch and up the dim, nightshift-lit corridor. He

  could fight this. He could survive a little longer, free to think if not to

  act... but for only a few minutes. And if Bluescale bullied, cajoled, or

  hypnotized him into confessing what he'd just done, the Ssi-ruuk might kill

  him outright. Waste his life energy in their justifiable anger. He'd seen them

  beat a P'w'eck to death, just using their broad muscular tails.

  Worse, if the Ssi-ruuk knew Skywalker expected them, they'd find a way to

  take him anyway more force, greater numbers, inventive technology. Even a

  Jedi didn't stand a chance. The galaxy would fall.

  Dev could think of only one escape. Using what little he knew of the

  Force, he could plunge willingly into the renewal trance, bypassing

  Bluescale's hypnotic awareness.

  He recoiled from the idea. Renewal would mean the death of Dev Sibwarra,

  human. He would forget all that had made him free.

  Free for how long? Hanging his head, he grimaced. He had thrown down his

  life countless times already, for no purpose. This time, he could save dozens

  of millions of humans... including one Jedi. His was a small, poor unsung

  sacrifice to buy so many lives. But he'd help them if he could. He'd honor his

  mother's memory.

  Standing straighter than he had stood in five years, Dev led Bluescale

  through a too-familiar hatchway.

  "Are you awake, small thing?"

  Dev blinked. He lay on a warm, nubbly deck near a pair of massive, clawed

  hind feet. He knew that whistling song and the scent of that breath. A narrow-

  faced blue head bent close to him. He felt pristine and fresh, like a
>
  hatchling emerged from its egg.

  "I have healed you," said...? Dev struggled to remember the name.

  "Welcome back to full joy."

  Dev reached up and wrapped his arms around... around... Bluescale!... and

  squeezed embarrassing moisture out of his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

  "You have only the thoughts, emotions, and memories that will strengthen

  you. None of the overburdening clutter that complicates life for your masters.

  " Bluescale crossed slender forearms over his chest.

  Dev inhaled deeply and gladly. "I feel so clean." He couldn't remember

  how Bluescale did this. He never could remember. Obviously, then, that memory

  wouldn't have helped him continue his life of selfless service. Anything that

  gave someone this much peace had to be right. Anyone who gave it must be

  wholly good. It must be long, hard work.

  Master Firwirrung waited outside Bluescale's chamber, muscular tail

  flicking anxiously. Dev cringed at the concern narrowing his warm black eyes.

  Evidently Firwirrung had worried for him. That made him guess something evil

  had been cleansed away. "I'm much better, Master," Dev volunteered. "I've

  thanked our dear Elder. Thank you, too."

  Firwirrung touched his left shoulder with his right foreclaw and bobbed

  his great head, scent tongues extended. "You are welcome," he answered.

  "Now we will go to Admiral Ivpikkis," sang Bluescale.

  Yes, the mission! He remembered that, now, too a supreme privilege for

  the sake of the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium. Dev walked between the elder and his

  master with his head bowed and clawless hands clasped. He had white eyes,

  furred skin, and a small stinking tailless body. Who was he to deserve such

  effort on their part, such happiness in service, such important life work?

  Jangling noises jostled Luke out of a fitful doze. A light blinked at his

  bedside, but other than that the room remained dark. "What?" he asked

  drowsily. There'd been a macabre nightmare... no, a warning. "What is it?"

  "Commander Skywalker?" spoke a male voice out of his bedside console.

  "Are you awake?"

  "Getting there," he answered. "What's wrong?"

  "This is Salis D'aar Spaceport Authority. There's been a disturbance with

  some of your, uh, troops. We have several speeders at the Bakur complex for

 

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