Star Wars_ The New Rebellion - Kristine Kathryn Rusch [189]
“I love you, Princess,” he said softly.
She launched herself into his arms, and pulled him close. “I know,” she whispered. “I know.”
Fifty-five
Artoo’s handiwork had shut off all the droids in the facility, except for those without the detonator chip. Only the astromech units and Threepio apparently were without. The astromech units chased Brakiss to his ship, and watched as he took off to parts unknown.
The computer held no clues as to Master Cole’s whereabouts, so Threepio and Artoo had to search the nearby compounds. They found him in a droid torture chamber that made the one in Jabba’s palace look like a luxurious oil-massage parlor. Master Cole was strapped to a bench, and was partially unconscious.
Artoo determined that Master Cole was in no condition to fly the freighter. So Threepio sent messages to everyone he could think of, requesting a transport.
He managed to raise Lando Calrissian, who chuckled and said that the Lady Luck was turning into a passenger liner. He promised to arrive shortly and pick them up.
Threepio waited beside Master Cole. Artoo had insisted on freeing the tortured droids, and he sent them to a repair area, hoping that they could help each other. Artoo was puttering around the room, deactivating all its horrible equipment. He had already removed the torture devices on the Eve-Ninedeninetwo.
Then Master Cole’s hand moved. Threepio leaned over him, and was rewarded when Master Cole’s eyelids fluttered. His eyes opened, he saw Threepio, and—he screamed.
Artoo beeped in response, hurrying toward Threepio’s side.
Threepio backed away from Master Cole. “I’m so sorry, sir. It’s just me. See-Threepio, at your service.”
Master Cole’s scream died, and he brought a hand to his face. Artoo beeped at him sympathetically.
“We’re still in this place.”
“Only for a moment, sir,” Threepio said. “Artoo has gotten us transport.”
“Brakiss?” Master Cole said.
“He left, sir. The astromech droids attacked him, and he ran away. After I—”
Artoo bleebled.
“—Ah, after we defeated the Red Terror.”
“The Red—?”
“Oh, it’s a long story, sir, but quite intriguing. You see, after I left you—”
“Later, Threepio.” Master Cole pulled himself up on his elbows, and peered at Artoo. “Did you solve what you needed to?”
Artoo whistled his affirmative.
“Oh, more than solved it, sir. He deactivated all the detonators. It seems that Brakiss designed them all to be handled from one remote, although why he would do that seems quite unusual to me. Artoo assures me that it is custom among droid manufacturers. It allows for defective models to be deactivated, even in difficult-to-reach areas where—”
“Can no one shut him up?” Master Cole said as he rolled off the table. He moaned slightly.
“I don’t think you should be getting up, sir.”
“I don’t think I want to stay here any longer. Where is the freighter?”
“Where we left it, sir. But you are in no condition to fly it. Master Calrissian shall be here shortly. He’ll take us back to Coruscant.”
Threepio moved to help Master Cole stand, but Master Cole flinched.
“Did they hurt you badly, sir?”
Master Cole gave him a withering glance. “It didn’t exactly tickle.”
Threepio nodded. “Well, sir, it might do you good to remember two things: Artoo and I did rescue you, and if you’ll forgive my impertinence, sir, no two droids are alike. I know many sentients forget that, but we are individuals and can remain so without a memory wipe.”
Master Cole smiled. “I know that, Threepio. You startled me when I came to. And as for the rest, well, it hurts to be touched at the moment. I’m sure that will fade.” He gazed down at Artoo, who hovered near him. “I’ve learned from both of you never to underestimate a droid. I’ve been as bad as the rest of the galaxy in taking you all for granted. I’ll never do that again.”
Artoo beeped happily.
“What did he say?” Master Cole asked.
“That it sounds as if you’ll be all right now.” Threepio’s hand clanged as it rested on Artoo’s head. “It seems, thanks to Artoo’s quick thinking and my negotiation skills,