Star Wars - Truce at Bakura

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Star Wars - Truce at Bakura Page 33

by Kathy Tyers


  "No? That is standard Imperial policy. It's working all over the galaxy."

  Governor Nereus kept his hands open and in full view. Evidently Han's blaster

  made him more nervous than he was showing otherwise.

  Someone shoved Leia from the left. Gaeriel strode between Han and

  Governor Nereus, keeping just out of the line of fire. Leia had never seen her

  look so defiant. She'd knotted her shawl over her skirt, out of the way, and

  wedged a blaster rifle under one arm. It dangled, ready to use. Finally Leia

  guessed what Luke saw in her. "Governor," Gaeriel announced, "if nothing else

  is going to come of your treachery, then I shall make my own small gesture. I

  resign from Imperial service."

  Nereus centered his hands over the side stripes of his trousers. "You

  cannot. You belong to the Empire."

  "I think not, Excellency." She spoke calmly, but Leia saw that her

  unmatched eyes were puffyou, as if she'd been crying. If she'd been grieving

  for Luke, she had a surprise in store. "Princess Leia, please accept my

  congratulations on your victory--" Gaeriel stiffened, turning as pale as if

  she'd seen a ghost. Leia pivoted back on one foot.

  Luke stood at the center of the Falcon's main hatch, saber in hand but

  not ignited, looking like a lithe gray-suited shadow against the Falcon's dark

  interior. She would've bet his smile had something to do with Gaeriel's open

  mouth and wide eyes. The thin little woman standing next to her brightened and

  whispered, "Hello, Jedi."

  Whatever Wilek Nereus had stepped forward to say, he forgot it. "No!" he

  exclaimed, horror twisting his heavy features. "You can't be here! Get back on

  board! You'll infest us all! You don't realize--"

  Luke took one step down. "Gaeriel Captison belongs to Bakura, not the

  Empire."

  Governor Nereus whirled toward Gaeri. With speed that belied his age and

  bulk, he yanked the blast rifle out of her hands.

  Luke dropped into a crouch. Han had already drawn his blaster. Nereus

  fired twice. One bolt deflected off the Falcon's hull. The other flashed

  toward Luke, intersecting a green-white blade that whipped into its path and

  deflected energy back along its own course.

  Wilek Nereus fell blank-eyed. Luke stumbled, too. Gaeriel gasped. Leia

  froze in place. Get up, Luke!

  Artoo rolled forward at top speed, beeping and whistling. Slowly Luke

  pressed back to his feet. He held the saber upright in front of him, its hum

  the only sound Leia heard over her thumping heart. He waved the little droid

  back. Han leaned over the governor, blaster steady, but Nereus didn't move

  again.

  Leia stepped around Governor Nereus's body toward the Bakuran prime

  minister. Captison snapped to attention, regaining poise. "Prime Minister

  Captison," she said, "for this moment Bakura stands alone. If your people

  choose to rejoin the Empire..." she nodded aside at Commander Thanas, "we will

  withdraw and leave you to conduct your own affairs. Commander Thanas may

  supervise your defense against the Ssi-ruuk, if they return before the Empire

  sends you another governor. You may continue alone, knowing the Ssi-ruuk might

  return. But if you choose to align yourself with the Alliance, we should

  negotiate a permanent truce immediately."

  Captison saluted Leia, then Luke. "Your Highness--Commander--we thank

  you. It is not likely, however, that the Imperial garrison will surrender."

  Luke walked slowly down the ramp. Leia hoped none of the others guessed

  that weakness, not dignity, set his pace. "We have accepted Commander Thanas's

  surrender," he said, "including the Dominant, the land-based forces, and the

  Imperial garrison."

  Leia held her breath and waited for Commander Thanas to contradict Luke's

  statement. The thin Imperial frowned, but he said nothing. Was he holding his

  tongue, or was Luke keeping him from speaking?

  "Commander Thanas," said Luke, "you are free from custody. If Bakura's

  citizens ask the Empire to leave, you will oversee the troops' withdrawal."

  Thanas nodded and raised his wrist. Threepio's arm came with it.

  "Let him go, Threepio," said Luke.

  The droid produced a master chip and waved it over Thanas's binders.

  Luke moved closer and looked up at Thanas. "Take charge of your men, sir.

  Remember, the Dominant's new crew is watching."

  Thanas opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, then seemed to change

  his mind. A double-podded local patrol craft streaked out of the hazy sky and

  landed close to the Falcon. Two Bakuran enforcement officers sprang out,

  steering a repulsor litter between them. They hurried toward Nereus's body.

  Commander Thanas turned on one heel, keeping his military posture

  painfully straight. "Detail," he called, "fall in." Nereus's stormtroopers

  followed Commander Thanas's long stride toward the nearest drop shaft.

  "You're just going to trust him?" Leia whispered to Luke. "What did you

  do?"

  "Nothing." Luke's eyes also tracked the commander. "He's not forgetting

  the Dominant. Even if it's not up to full capacity, we hold the high ground.

  And besides, I have a feeling."

  "Will you excuse me?" Prime Minister Captison raised his bushy white

  eyebrows. "I must make an emergency broadcast. I can almost guarantee that

  Bakura's people will choose to join the Alliance after all that has transpired

  today, but I must consult them."

  Leia could almost guarantee it, too. "By all means." She inclined her

  head respectfully. To her delight, Luke saluted and even Han came to

  attention. Captison strode toward a different drop shaft.

  Still watching, Father? Leia glanced over one shoulder, but all she saw..

  . or sensed... was hazy gray sky. Every world she took from the Empire was

  another defeat for the ghost of Darth Vader.

  On the other hand, if Anakin Skywalker cared to look on, that wouldn't

  bother her in the future. She'd found her peace in the midst of battle.

  Gaeriel pulled her elderly companion toward Luke. This, Leia guessed, had

  to be Eppie Belden. "Well done, young man!" The tiny woman gripped Luke's

  elbow, then seized his hand and pumped hard. "And thanks. If Bakura can ever

  do something for you, just name it."

  Gaeriel glanced aside, then said to Luke with heartfelt relief, "You're

  alive. Did you--"

  "Can we talk later? I've got a very sick... friend on board, being

  treated for burns."

  Forget Dev Sibwarra, Leia wanted to shout. He's dead. This girl has

  finally come around. Don't let her go, if you want her!

  "Oh," Gaeriel exclaimed, stepping back. "Go ahead. I'll wait."

  Leia frowned at her brother's back. He was already halfway up the ramp,

  walking stiffly with his head bowed.

  Gaeriel touched Leia's arm. "I've never met anyone like him, Your

  Highness."

  "You never will again, if he leaves you here," Leia muttered. "Excuse me.

  " She trotted after Luke.

  CHAPTER 21

  Luke rejoined Leia at the hatchway. "He's strong enough to apprentice,"

  he explained hastily. "And young enough. We've got to save him."

  "I'll help if I can. But, Luke..."

  Commander Thanas's
medical corpsman held a mask and clear tubing to Dev's

  mouth, and he'd bandaged Dev's ruined eyes. "Bacta purge," he said briskly.

  "It might accomplish something. It might not. At any rate, I gave him

  something for pain."

  Abruptly Dev lifted one arm. Luke leaned over and tried to smile

  encouragingly. "Dev? It's me, Luke."

  Dev pulled the tube out of his mouth. "Wait!" cried the medic. Sticky

  fluid splashed the deck. Luke grabbed and bent the tube, stopping its flow.

  The sickly sweet smell evoked wretched, claustrophobic memories of a tank on

  icy Hoth. The corpsman seized the tubing and locked on a clamp. "Don't let him

  talk long, if you really want to save him."

  Luke knelt. "Dev, you can start your real training even before your body

  heals. It'll keep you occupied."

  "Oh, Luke." Dev smiled back faintly. "I could never become a Jedi. My

  mind is scarred. I've been..." He pulled a deep breath and struggled on. his..

  . controlled. By others--for too long, Luke. Thank you for letting me finish

  cleanly."

  Luke lifted Dev's scarred hand between his own. "Alliance surgeons can do

  wonderful things with prosthetics. They'll treat you at Endor."

  "Prosthetics?" Dev's eyebrows raised above the bandage. "Sounds like

  entechment." He shuddered.

  "Don't let him talk any more!" The medical corpsman shoved Luke out of

  the way and pushed his mask back onto Dev's face. Luke tottered against the

  bulkhead and stretched toward Dev's presence to reassure him. Dev gleamed in

  the Force, fully as clean as he had claimed. Dev must have concentrated on

  healing his spirit, not his body, while he lay in the Jedi trance.

  But he seemed to be shrinking. Luke knelt again and enveloped Dev with

  his own strength, trying to anchor Dev's presence more strongly to his ravaged

  body. Dev returned a wash of gratitude.

  Abruptly, light flooded out of the Dev-spot in the Force. Luke flinched

  at its brilliance. "Dev?" he called, alarmed.

  The flash faded. Dev Sibwarra's presence vanished with it into a vast,

  surging sea of light.

  "Lost 'im," the corpsman growled, glaring at his medisensor. "He really

  didn't have a chance, Commander."

  Luke stared. Where's the justice? he wanted to cry. He'd made a start. He

  could have learned control.

  Couldn't he? Luke seemed to see Yoda standing on the Falcon's gaming

  table, leaning on his stick and shaking his head.

  "Sorry." The medic drained his tubing, coiled it, and swept his other

  gear back into the carry pack. "I gave it my best try with portable equipment.

  "

  "I'm sure you did," Leia murmured.

  Luke covered his eyes with both hands and coughed.

  "You'd better rest, sir," said the medic. Leia's voice, and the medic's,

  grew fainter and farther away. Luke stayed on his knees, remembering the young

  man who had suffered, and escaped, and died on the celebration side of

  victory.

  Some time later, a small hand rested on his shoulder. "Leia?" he asked

  softly. "Did you--"

  "No, Luke. Leia's down in the complex negotiating. It's me."

  That was Gaeriel's voice. Had Han invited her on board? Luke struggled to

  stand, but his right leg wouldn't push. "Help," he muttered. Gaeriel pulled

  him up by one arm. To his surprise, she swept off the shawl she had tied

  around her waist. Delicately she shrouded Dev's face.

  "Thank you," he murmured. "No one else cared."

  "I did that for your sake, not his." Gaeri raised one eyebrow. "Was he

  really all right, in the end?"

  "In his mind? Yes," he answered quietly.

  "Why?" Gaeriel whispered. "Why did you want to save him of all people?"

  Not wanting to meet her eyes, Luke spoke toward the Falcon's deck. "He'd

  known suffering. I wanted him to know strength."

  "I'm not sure it was just strength you showed him. You also gave him

  human compassion."

  Control. He must control. He wanted to collapse in her arms. He tried to

  smile.

  "Don't." She slid her hands around his waist, then up toward his

  shoulders. Pulling him close, she whispered, "Let it out, Luke. It hurts. I

  know. You'll have joy later. The Cosmos balances."

  Flinging pretense aside, Luke held her and cried. She stood and took it.

  Maybe seeing him like this would balance her memories of his powers. Finally

  quieted, he led her to seats at the hologram table.

  "How did you--" She faltered. "I assume - - y killed the Trichoid larvae?

  "

  "Is that what they were?" he asked. "How do you know?"

  "I got one, too. Governor Nereus called in a medic for me. But you had no

  medic."

  "I had the Force."

  "You were wonderful at the cantina. I'll never forget that."

  "What else could I have done?"

  She stared up at him. Strands of honey-colored hair, stirred by the

  Falcon's ventilators, drifted into her face.

  "Your world is beautiful," he murmured. "I'm glad to have seen it."

  "I have no desire to leave again. Ever."

  "Bakura will be sending an envoy to the Alliance," he said gently, trying

  to mask his last hope. "You're perfectly trained for it."

  "When that day comes I will nominate someone else, Luke. I have work to

  do here. Eppie will need me, and Uncle Yeorg. I'm a Captison. I've been

  trained for this."

  "I... understand." Disappointed in the end, he rested his elbows on the

  hologram table and shifted his legs. The right one still ached where he'd

  wrenched it, and breathing deeply hurt. He'd spend the entire hyperspace run

  back to Endor in another healing trance. Either that, or Too-Onebee would dump

  him into a tank again. Probably both.

  "Are you taking prisoners of war?" she asked quietly.

  "We don't do that. It would make liars of us, and lies of our goals.

  Every trooper we send home will tell three or four others that the Alliance...

  well, that we had them in our power but we let them go."

  "Luke?" she whispered. She laid her fingertips on his shoulder. "I'm

  sorry."

  He felt the softening he'd hoped for, too late. He turned to her slowly

  and fully opened himself to the Force, hoping to make the sensation last. This

  time, she wouldn't raise her defenses. "What for?" he asked. "This has been a

  victory for humankind."

  Her cheeks colored. "I want to be your ally, Luke. But from a distance."

  He pushed back a quiet desolation that threatened to send him over

  another emotional brink. He mustn't think of spending forever alone. "From a

  distance," he agreed, hesitantly touching her face. "But just once, from here.

  "

  She leaned into his arms. He kissed her, letting the moment flood his

  perception, petal-warm lips and the deep sweet warmth of her life presence.

  Before she could pull away and ruin the memory, he released her. "I'll

  see you off the ship," he murmured. They stood. He walked her along the

  corridor, careful not to limp.

  The medic intercepted him at the top of the ramp. "I believe you need

  attention, sir. I assure you my sympathies are neutral."

  "Good-bye," Gaeri murmured.

  Luke squeezed her hand. The Force will be with you
, Gaeri. Always. He

  stared after her until she vanished into a drop shaft with a last flicker of

  skirts. A breeze dropped swirls of fine ash from the rioters' fires on

  permacrete outside. The last stormtrooper had long vanished down the drop

  shaft, following Commander Thanas.

  Luke faced the young Imperial medic. "Right," he said, rubbing his

  forehead. Here we go again.

  "Come on, Junior." Han leaned against a bulkhead. "Let's use this doc

  while we've got him."

  Luke let them lead him to a bunk. He drew a careful breath and lay down

  to have his leg and lungs scanned.

  It was a good thing Thanas and his garrison didn't know that the Dominant

  was really no threat to Salis D'aar. Its new "crew" consisted of two excited

  Calamarian youngsters--two who hadn't come down for shore leave.

  Rank by rank, a thousand Imperial personnel boarded a large but ancient

  Bakuran space liner under Commander Pter Thanas's eyes. Bakura wanted the

  Empire gone. The announcement had come yesterday, two hours after Nereus's

  death. Over half his men weren't even there to ship out. Some had never

  straggled in, dead or deserted. Others had vanished last night Skywalker's

  people were keeping his promise, no doubt. Most of Thanas's ranking officers

  led the formation, but he noted the absence of two medical supervisors and the

  weather officer. All remaining Imperial war materiel--right down to the

  stormtroopers' armor--mst be left to the Bakurans, forming the nucleus of

  their new home defense force. Units of that force would soon join the Rebel

  fleet.

  There weren't many TIE fighters left for Bakura to use, though, after the

  Ssi-ruuk and then the Rebels decimated them. That concerned him.

  Two Bakuran guards, the only armed men in sight--no, one was a woman--

  stood behind him. At last the final unit boarded. "Ramp, up," Thanas called in

  crisp military singsong.

  He continued to stand on the ground, at attention. The Bakurans' stares

  burned his back. Inside the cockpit window, an experienced Imperial war pilot

  craned his head. Thanas saluted him, then signaled with one hand for liftoff.

  He backed away.

  Engines ignited. He kept backing, as did the Bakuran guards. The shuttle

  lifted and began a slow turn.

  Free... perhaps. Pter Thanas reached left-handed into his pocket. He held

 

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