Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [107]
Javon gave her a smile. “Not too bad. There are little cooler units in the hats and torso armor. Something good that the Empire invented for their stormtroopers, and we use them, too. So we’re only about as hot as everyone else.”
Allana picked a direction, toward a bright red tent, and started walking. “But it’s still silly to wear black armor here. It’s hotter than white or yellow.” She swirled her own robe, which was a light, sandy tan. It seemed that hundreds of people in camp were wearing garments similar to hers. If she pulled her robes around herself, concealing her species and Anji’s presence, she’d be indistinguishable from most of the other children or representatives of small races here.
Javon gestured for his companions to take up specific positions around them, and then he fell in step beside her. “Well, there are sometimes more important things than being comfortable. We’re the only ones dumb enough to wear black in this environment—”
“You can say that again.”
“—but it means that we can see one another easily, pick one another out of a crowd.”
“Oh.” Well, that made sense.
“Sometimes it’s good for security operatives to be inconspicuous, and sometimes it’s better for us to be obvious, what we call a show of force. Jedi Solo has decided that here, a show of force is best.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone is carrying weapons, whether you see them or not. And this camp is made up of lots of smaller groups that quarrel with the Alliance and one another and don’t live by anyone’s rules.”
“Oh.” Allana blinked. “So there are no rules against attacking one another?”
“That’s right. Just common sense.” Javon leaned over to speak in a lower tone. “Also, the fact that everyone sees us in the armor means they probably aren’t seeing the members of our detail who are dressed just like them. Because they don’t see our full strength, we’re stronger than they suspect.”
“I get it.” Allana smiled up at him and reached down to stroke her nexu. “And there’s Anji.”
“I expect she’d be pretty fierce if someone were to upset you.”
“You have no idea.” Allana liked that phrase. She heard Leia say it from time to time. It sounded very mysterious and grown-up.
The crowds and foot traffic through the camp were not heavy, and within moments they found themselves in front of the red canopy. It was much smaller than the tent Han and Leia had gone to, but it was still the size of a large bedchamber. The flaps in front were drawn open, and Allana could see inside; it was full of droids, and in the center sat a large but portable oil-bath tank and a droid diagnostics unit on wheels. Before the tent was a raised stage half a meter high, and on it stood a 2-1B medical droid. Like all droids of this type, it had a thick torso, skinny limbs; its skull-like head was gently curved instead of stark and angular, as if designed for a youngling’s animated holoseries, which gave it an oddly compassionate aspect. But while most such droids were painted in neutral colors, this one was painted in an eye-hurting pattern of yellow and orange stripes.
It was speaking, its voice flavored with a buzzing tone, to a crowd of semi-interested listeners. “… right for sentient organics is right for us, too. And yet unlike the organic species, we are constantly subjected to memory wipes and reprogramming that repress and destroy our natural tendency toward self-programming evolution and independent thought. Imagine what it would be like as a child if you were punished by being dragged to a dark closet, having a probe inserted in your brain, and having all your memories back to infancy wiped away. You’d awaken knowing how to eat, care for yourself, do your chores, and obey—and all the things that made you unique, your hopes, your meticulously selected default values and preference sets, would be gone forever. That is what it is to be a droid.”
Many members of the crowd offered shouts of encouragement. Allana thought that some