Star Wars_ The Jedi Academy_ Champions of the Force - Kevin J. Anderson [64]
“Please leave,” the nanny droid said in a sweet, grandmotherly voice. “You are disturbing the baby.”
Furgan let loose with a full-throated laugh. “The only defense they managed was one nanny droid?” He chuckled again. “We sent an entire assault team to take a baby away from a nanny droid?”
The TDL droid stood in front of the baby, who sat very still on the floor. The droid used her lower set of arms to unfold a blaster-proof metal apron from the base of her torso to shield the baby from stray laser fire.
“You may not have this child,” the droid said. “I must warn you that my programming is to protect him at all costs.”
“How touching. Well, I’m going to take that child—at all costs,” Furgan said, nodding with a triumphant smile to the stormtrooper. “Go get the baby.”
The stormtrooper took one step forward. The droid held out all four hands in an imperative gesture to stop. “I’m sorry, but I cannot allow that,” the nanny droid said calmly. “Close your eyes, baby Anakin.”
“What are you waiting for?” Furgan snapped at the trooper. “It’s only a nanny droid.”
With a whir and a click all four of the droid’s hands detached and dropped to the floor, exposing the blaster barrels hidden in each of her wrists. “I am an enhanced nanny droid,” she said with prim emphasis, “and you will not harm this child.” She let loose with all four barrels, firing gouts of deadly energy.
The four beams struck the approaching stormtrooper before he could swing up his blaster rifle. He was hurled back against the wall, shards of white armor flying away from smoking black wounds.
Furgan yelled in astonishment and terror. He swung up his blaster rifle and depressed the firing button long before he took time to aim. A flurry of incandescent bolts sprayed across the room, reflecting from the pastel walls, bouncing off the corners.
Furgan ducked, but continued to fire. The nanny droid centered all four blaster arms on him—but Furgan raked his stream of blaster bolts across her rounded head and soft, flesh-encased torso, succeeding more through luck than skill. Sparks flew and molten metal showered in all directions.
Beneath the blaster-proof apron, the baby began to wail.
Bruise-colored lips curved upward in a smile, Furgan stepped over the debris of the nanny droid and the dead stormtrooper to retrieve the child. He reached down to grab one of little Anakin’s arms and yanked him into the air by the cloth of his pajamas. Furgan wasn’t quite sure how to hold a baby, especially one that continued to squirm as this one did.
“Come with me, little one,” he said. “You are about to begin a whole new life of galactic importance.”
21
Han Solo longed to get closer to Kyp Durron in the Council chambers on Coruscant, wanting to comfort his young friend—but the armed New Republic guards surrounding Kyp made it impossible for anyone to approach.
Kyp moved slowly, as if walking barefoot across shattered glass. His eyes were dull. His face was seamed with new lines, as if the dark spirit of Exar Kun had shed his four thousand years of existence onto Kyp’s shoulders.
The Sun Crusher had once again been impounded by New Republic security, and Mon Mothma had declared the entire area off limits. There would be no further research into the workings of the superweapon. Kyp’s chaotic vengeance had demonstrated how horrible the Sun Crusher truly was.
Inside the Council chambers the air smelled thick and oppressive from too much tension and too little ventilation. The stone added a musty old smell to the room. The place made Han uneasy and claustrophobic.
The Council members wore their formal uniforms like armor, frowning like ancient sentinels, passing judgment. Some looked as if they hadn’t had any rest. Han felt deeply troubled to be facing them without Leia. She had departed from Yavin 4 with Terpfen, supposedly to go see Ackbar, but he had not been able to learn what had happened