Star Wars_ The New Rebellion - Kristine Kathryn Rusch [178]
The smoke cleared instantly. It hadn’t been smoke at all, but hundreds of astromech droids emitting some kind of foggy chemical.
“Artoo, I’ve been looking for you,” Threepio said. “Master Cole thought we were going to go together. You shouldn’t go off on your own like that. It isn’t—”
Artoo gave him a raspberry, swiveled, and started up the corridor behind all the other astromech droids.
“You can’t leave now,” Threepio said. “They’re going to kill Master Cole.”
Artoo stopped and beeped an inquiry.
“Why, he had to cover that little escape of yours. There were signs, you know, warning that droids couldn’t leave a ship. And then you go off on your own. He thought you actually had a plan. He sent me after you, hoping that some good would come of it. I can see now that our concern was misguided.”
Artoo blatted at him, and continued forward.
Threepio followed. “Ungrateful? Ungrateful? How can you call me ungrateful?”
Artoo bleebled and continued forward. The other astromech droids swarmed ahead like a sea of mechanicals.
“I don’t think Master Cole can wait, Artoo. I daresay he’s in a difficult patch. If you’re not going to help him, I will.” Threepio turned on one foot and started down a side corridor.
Artoo whistled at him, not the friendly whistle from before, but a summons. Threepio ignored him.
Then Artoo blatted, and Threepio stopped.
“Good point,” he said more to himself than Artoo. “I really don’t want to face the Red Terror alone.”
Threepio scurried back to the original corridor. Artoo and his astromech friends had already moved far ahead. Threepio glanced over his shoulder. So far, no Red Terror. But there was no telling whether or not they’d make it through that door.
“Wait for me!” he shouted. “Wait! For! Me!”
Forty-nine
Luke backed away from Kueller’s lightsaber. So far, Kueller wasn’t really swinging it, but he was holding it steady before him, his black robes flowing backward in the wind. His body was slender, almost too slender, and in that—in that only—could Luke see the beginnings of the disintegration the dark side caused.
Twilight was falling. The light that had seemed so bright when he came out of the tunnel now seemed dim and shadowy. Only the blade of Kueller’s lightsaber gave off any light at all.
Luke didn’t have far to back. If he went too far, he would hit the wall of the tower he had escaped from. Then he got a flash, a mental picture, so clear that it looked like a holo:
Around the tower was a narrow alleyway that led to the tower’s main door. The door’s frame had collapsed, and in the mouth of the opening—
Kueller swung his blade at Luke, smashing the mental image. Luke leaped aside. He wasn’t certain if he should go for his blasters. That would only give Kueller a target. The blasters were no match for a lightsaber.
“Give up, Skywalker,” Kueller said. “You lack the strength to defeat me. I will kill you this time. And then I will slaughter your sister.”
Leia! She had her lightsaber. Luke extended his hand, and Kueller brought his blade down at it. Luke dodged as Leia’s lightsaber sailed in the air toward him, landing neatly in his fingers.
Immediately he ignited the blade and its reassuring hum echoed in the growing darkness.
“Ah,” Kueller said. “So you have chosen to fight me. Careful, Master Skywalker. If you do so with the wrong attitude, you might join my side.”
“I’ve fought better than you, Kueller,” Luke said. The lightsaber felt odd in his hand. “And won.”
“Years ago, Skywalker. You’ve become complacent.” Kueller slashed at Luke. Luke parried, the electric clash of blades ringing in the night air.
Then Kueller whirled and blocked several bursts of blasterfire. Leia peeked out of the bay doors.
“Leave him alone, Kueller. It’s me you want!” she yelled.
His death mask glowed from an internal light. It made his smile even more sinister than usual. “Actually, President, I want your entire family. Without them, there are no