Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [122]
He lay limp on the deck tiles, too tired to feel triumphant, and shut out the external world to perform a focusing exercise. Slowly his despair lifted, then he remembered Dev. They had to find a way off the Shriwirr. Without power, and possibly still under attack, it could break up around them.
He couldn’t. Sleep beckoned, and so did the Jedi healing trance. His eyes ached. He could shut them for a few moments.…
A glimmer on one bulkhead caught his eye. Was he hallucinating lights in the corridor?
“Luke?” called Leia’s voice. “Luke!”
Disbelieving, he pushed up off the deck. “Here!” His throat burned. He must’ve scratched it bloody.
A pocket luma swept into the Shriwirr’s bridge, followed by a slim arm. The rest of Leia wore a breath mask, shipsuit, and magnetic boots. Han and Chewie followed. Her luma shone like life itself. “How did you get on board?” Luke asked her.
Leia hurried closer. “They left the landing bays open. They’re gone. The ship’s dead, except for you.”
“Where’s—” Luke began. Then he spotted Dev.
The boy lay stretched out beside him, tangled in his long robes. His chest rose and fell slowly. Massive red energy burns traversed his exposed arms and face. His eyelids covered sunken gaps.
Beside him on the deck tiles wriggled a creature as long and thick as a finger. Short legs waved wildly at the light. Its fat, striped wet body tapered in green and black stripes toward a pointed end. Audibly disgusted, Leia squashed it flat.
“Thanks,” Luke whispered.
“Relax, kid.” Han knelt and raised him over one shoulder.
Luke swallowed. “Bring Dev.”
“You’ve got to be kidding … Leia!” She was already trying to hoist the unconscious youth. Chewie pushed in and cradled Dev like a doll. “Let’s move,” ordered Han.
Safely on board the Falcon, Leia knelt beside Luke’s bunk and rested her head on his shoulder. Delicately he accepted the link to her strength. He bathed himself in healing energy that felt clean, warm, and familiar. When he swallowed, his throat no longer burned. Soon, he could breathe without wanting to cough.
Where had he picked up those nauseating parasites?
He sat up. “I’ll rest later,” he insisted, “really rest.”
“You’d better,” Leia murmured, “but we haven’t got time now. We’ve still got the Dominant to deal with. Its repair crews have probably been busy.”
“What happened to it?” Luke gulped at the thought of Pter Thanas. Had he doomed the Imperial commander to slavery?
“It blew out its lateral thrusters again, so it can’t steer. And signals coming off Bakura are crazy. There’s a revolution going on.”
Luke slid to his feet. The right leg still ached, but not as badly. “I’m ready,” he said, but he let Leia support him. They shuffled to the cockpit together. Leia helped him fall into a seat.
“Hey, youngster,” Han greeted him. “You look pretty good for a dead man.” Chewbacca whuffled agreement.
Luke cleared his throat experimentally. “Thanks.” He pointed at the subspace radio. “Anything on there about Gaeriel Captison?”
“Maybe,” said Han. “Some groundside group claims it’s got Wilek Nereus in custody. They’re barricading themselves inside the Imperial offices sector of the Bakur complex.” The Dominant appeared to sweep underneath the Falcon’s hull; an illusion, of course—the Falcon, not the Dominant, was maneuvering. “Threepio worked on maximizing energy bank recharge while we were on the Flutie ship. I think we can deal with Thanas the way he deserves. Then we’ll worry about Nereus.”
“Easy—” Leia interjected.
“Wait,” Luke said a little louder. In Commander Thanas’s place, he’d order the huge, valuable cruiser destroyed, rather than let it fall into Alliance hands. He couldn’t spot a single TIE fighter. They’d probably scattered, afraid to be caught in the shock waves of a Carrack-class cruiser’s final explosion. Confirming Luke’s guess, a babble of Rebel voices announced that the Dominant had lost shield generators. Not lost. He shut them down, Luke guessed.
“Here goes!” Han