Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 04_ Backlash - Aaron Allston [67]
She reached the doors. “I was right.” Then she and Anji were through, into the darkness beyond.
“Yes, you were right.” C-3PO waddled after her.
“You were wrong.”
“If I had teeth, I would be gritting them at this moment. Yes, I was wrong.”
R2-D2 issued a final command to the dome, then rolled in the wake of his friends. The doors closed behind him; as they locked, R2-D2 heard the distinctive sound of a blaster pistol being discharged, its bolt hammering into the thick durasteel of the shut door.
The astromech knew that the lockup command he had issued would not delay Monarg for long, but any delay would help—especially the way Anji was staggering about. In addition, the comm center commands he’d issued would keep the man from calling for support for some time, and that could be even more important.
“Do you really have an ultimate fighter program?”
“Oh, no, miss. I’m certain that a child of four could outwrestle me on my best day.”
“Then we’d better hurry up and get Anji aboard the Falcon,” Allana said. “She doesn’t look very good, and I don’t think Monarg would be very nice to her if he caught us again.”
“I should think not,” C-3PO agreed. “While pursuing you, I did access local files on our friend Monarg and his arrest record. He has a habit of becoming inebriated and engaging in unscheduled combat events involving his neighbors. I ran his behavior against a psychological analysis and prediction package, and came up with a profile of, as they say, “buttons to push” in a variety of situations. When I entered the dome and saw that Artoo was inert but freed of his restraining bolt, I took steps to awaken him and then keep our host’s attention on myself while Artoo awoke.”
“That was a good plan.”
“Thank you, miss.”
“I wish all your plans were that good.”
C-3PO merely sighed.
As they ran, waddled, and staggered up the Millennium Falcon’s boarding ramp, they heard the doors of Monarg’s dome slam open.
Allana looked, anxious, at R2-D2. “Can we keep him out?”
At the top of the ramp, the astromech waited until Anji had stumbled past, then sent a localized comm signal to the Falcon’s computers. The ramp rose into place and locked. He tweetled at C-3PO.
“Artoo says, um, no. Or, rather, only for a few minutes. We face an angry, determined mechanic with a shop full of tools. In addition, his is the most successful local mechanic’s shop, and his arrest record, which reveals that he is never more than locked up overnight for his drunken rampages, suggests that he is in very good favor with the local authorities.”
“So what do we do?”
“We get on the comm and threaten him with legal action if he continues his aggressive behavior, of course.”
Allana glared at C-3PO, then ran up to the Falcon’s cockpit. “Grandpa and Grandma will know what to do.” She jumped up into the pilot’s seat and looked over the alarmingly complex comm board. Since Han and Leia had adopted her two years ago, Han had, with the mixed pride of an owner and a grandfather, shown Allana every detail of the ship’s controls. He had done so again and again, had even let her take the yoke for brief periods of time and complete simple flying tasks.
Now she knew what to do. She activated the comm board, waited for a confirmation that it was live and receiving all local and satellite broadcasts normally. She switched the board to the preset for her grandparents’ normal frequency and activated the mike. “Hello? Uh, this is Millennium Falcon. We need to talk to Han and Leia right away.”
There was no answer.
“Please? Anji’s hurt.”
“Don’t forget to say ‘over,’ miss.”
“Please, over? Hello? Please call. He’s going to be coming for us soon.”
There was no answer.
BESIDE REDGILL LAKE, DATHOMIR
Ben was wrapped up in his cloak again, but this time it was for warmth rather than disguise.