Star Wars_ Children of the Jedi - Barbara Hambly [158]
The Klaggs and the Gakfedds had remained Gamorreans, albeit convinced most of the time that they were stormtroopers. They had been aware of the slow destruction of the Eye of Palpatine, though they had attributed it, under the instructions of the Will, to the Rebel saboteurs familiar to them from their programming. Ugbuz had remained Ugbuz, and though his aim continued to be truly dreadful he understood the difference between a charged blaster and an empty one.
To the Affytechans, their programming seemed to be so thorough that what they were programmed to believe took precedence over the actual structure of the ship itself. If they had possessed any individual personalities before induction in the lander, those had been completely subsumed … And, Luke noticed, those Affytechans who had sprouted on board—and he’d come across at least five nurseries, mostly in lesser mess rooms rigged with emergency lighting—seemed to believe themselves to be Imperial troopers with the same utter absorption as their seniors.
Triv Pothman, resplendent in his white armor, stepped across to the dead control screen in front of the yellow-and-black captain. “With your permission, sir.” He touched a switch.
• Fleet Communications •
Urgent and Priority One
It is the intent of the Will that all ship’s personnel evacuate to the shuttlecraft on Deck 16 immediately. All personnel currently in sick bays and other locations to be moved with necessary life support. The bearer of these orders will serve as director of the evacuation and pilot the shuttlecraft during and after launch.
“Not bad,” approved Luke softly.
“Are you kidding?” returned Callista’s voice in his ear. “For thirty years the Will is the only thing I’ve gotten when I tried to break into the computer. You bet I know how to do an imitation. You should see me do Pekkie Blu and the Starboys.”
Luke had never heard of Pekkie Blu and the Starboys, but he would have crossed the Dune Sea on foot to hear her do an imitation of anybody.
“Is this … it, trooper?” The captain’s voice was grave.
Neither Pothman nor Luke knew precisely what it was, but the former trooper nodded. “We have our orders,” he said.
The captain returned the nod, grave and manly despite the huge coronal fluff of white tassels. “All right, men,” he said. “This is it. Pack it up. Move it out.”
In the Deck 12 Portside Section Lounge, and the corridor adjacent, the Kitonaks were still talking.
“They’re still exchanging recipes, most of them,” explained Threepio, when Luke appeared. “Although that group in the corridor has begun telling one another about last summer’s run of Chooba slugs … an experience that all of them, apparently, shared.”
“They’re all here,” said Callista. “Forty-eight of them.”
A group of Affytechans passed them, marching in brisk military fashion, nearly seventy strong including a whole squad of seedlings less than a meter high. “Riiight square turn!” barked the sharp voice of the lieutenant in charge, and they vanished around a corner. Luke shook his head.
“Somebody’s gonna have a job deprogramming them.”
Her yelp of laughter rippled in the air. “Yikes, I hadn’t even thought of that! Okay. Corridors are clear between here and the shuttle bay. Gangways are open. That one elevator shaft they’ll have to climb is roped … Can they climb an elevator shaft?”
“Oh, yes.” Luke took a deep breath. He was achingly conscious of the fact that every fragment of his strength that he expended on other matters meant that much less for the final effort, the final exertion …
“Threepio, you ready?”
“I believe my grasp of the Kitonak language to be sufficient for the needs of the moment.”
“Yeah,” said Luke, “but you better get out of that doorway.”
The droid stepped hastily aside. He knew what was coming.
“Okay,” said Luke. “Here goes nothin’.”
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the heat sensors