Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [106]
No, he didn’t. Not while there was one chance of saving him. He’d found a friend, after all these years living with enemies. For reawakening his humanity, he owed the Jedi a chance to fight.
Up a lift, around several corners, toward the entechment lab. It ought to be nightshift-dim by now, but the yellow overhead light tubes burned at full brilliance. Dev stumbled and almost dropped his burden. “Carefully!” snapped a voice behind him.
“Yes, Master.” It wasn’t difficult to sound exhausted and repentant. “I didn’t mean to. He’s all right.” Dev’s back might not be, though. He took penitential satisfaction in that pain.
He followed the medic inside the spacious lab. The new entechment platform bed stood against a bulkhead near the old, standard chair. Now he dared to turn around. Two others followed in. The rest would stand guard.
Firwirrung already waited beside the control panel, assisted by another medic and by two P’w’ecks. That made five Ssi-ruuk and two servants against Dev and one unconscious Jedi. “Ah. Dev,” whistled Firwirrung. “You are strong. Well done.”
Manipulative praise: Now he recognized it. Clinging to the hope Skywalker was conscious, Dev let him slide to the ground. “No,” exclaimed Firwirrung. “The new apparatus will hold him upright. Here, I shall help you.”
Dev crouched and raised Skywalker over his shoulder again. Now’s the time! he exclaimed. They’ll have you trapped, if you don’t move now! Skywalker did not respond. Sorrowing, Dev steadied the Jedi. A medic released his wristbinders and Firwirrung pressed him against the table. Restraints snapped around his ankles and waist, but his arms dangled away from the trip panels. Firwirrung pushed them into place. The bed tipped backward with its captive.
The hatch slid open. Dev turned, then froze in place. Bluescale swept in, shut the hatchway behind him, and then marched to Dev’s side. “The Jedi human will be unconscious for some time, you guess?”
Dev spread his hands. Ssi-ruuk used the empty-claw gesture for confusion, too. “It will be difficult to wait, Elder.”
Bluescale turned his massive head to fix Dev with one hypnotic black eye, then whistled what Dev had dreaded to hear. “You are in desperate need.” Two other aliens slithered toward him, beamers drawn.
“Wait,” exclaimed Firwirrung. “Dev has served us well. Let us reward him.” He stroked the old entechment chair. “Sit down, Dev. There is time. I will place the IVs and lower the catchment arc myself, exactly as I promised.”
Dev’s tongue swelled like pillow stuffing. His fawning hadn’t convinced any of them. How hideously had he acted all these years?
“Don’t you smell yourself?” Bluescale sang softly.
So that was how they’d caught him. Seizing his last free moment, he jumped for Skywalker. His good hand and his aching one closed on the helpless Jedi’s throat. “I need nothing,” he cried. “You’ll never—”
Lights went out in the chamber. Words died on his tongue.
CHAPTER
18
The weak-minded little P’w’eck Luke had been controlling honked confusion with the rest of them, not realizing its tail had crushed the control board and extinguished cabin lights. Luke only hoped that he’d also disabled the abominable alien machines. He could tell the aliens from Dev by their presences, even in the dark. One potent individual tramped toward a power-locked hatchway.
Luke had already unlatched his bonds with the Force. Easily throwing off Dev, he leaped down. His head no longer hurt, but his right leg had no feeling. He leaned left. “Dev,” he cried, “get under something. They’ll trample you.”
“Right!” Dev’s voice sounded giddy with elation.
Feeling Dev shift between determination and fear had been the hardest part of staying still for the last several minutes. He wished he hadn’t given up his blaster—or else that he had another, to