Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [125]
“I’ll try,” said the medic, “but frankly, I’ve encountered energy-blast trauma before.” He ran the pocket medisensor over Dev’s stomach and chest, then shook his head. “There’s little I can do. He might live a day, if he’s … I won’t say lucky. If he regains consciousness, he’ll suffer. Internal damage is … well, there’s nothing to keep him alive.”
“Please try. He changed his mind about the Ssi-ruuk.” And Dev had so much Force potential. He had to survive.
“Huh,” the medic answered without enthusiasm. He reached deeper into his equipment pack.
Luke could barely keep his own body moving. Half stumbling, he rejoined Han in the cockpit. “We’ve got an invitation,” Han announced, “from a lady named Eppie Belden. She claims to know you. She’s with your friend Gaeriel at the Bakur complex. I guess there’s a nasty prisoner they want the Alliance to deal with.”
“Governor Nereus?” asked Leia.
“Looks that way.”
He’d last seen Gaeri being dragged by Artoo from the cantina. Abruptly he remembered that meal they’d shared. This news suggested that Gaeri was safe, though. And had Eppie healed herself? Had they captured Governor Nereus? “Can you land the Falcon on a roof port?”
Leia laughed behind him. “Han can land the Falcon on an ice cube if he wants to.”
Luke glanced around the cockpit, counting heads. “I assume you’re calling in reinforcements?” he asked Han.
“I, uh, just ordered your new Dominant crew into position to fire on the Imperial garrison at Salis D’aar. It’ll take a while. Our B-wing squadron’s tugboating it into place. And we’ve got two X-wing pilots coming in to fly cover, just in case.”
“Good work, Han.” And Luke had his reputation as a Jedi. So long as he didn’t stumble in plain sight, the Imperials would consider him a threat. He pictured Governor Nereus’s face when he walked off the Falcon alive.
“Your Bakuran lady friends promised to meet us at the roof port. We’ll see if they manage it.”
“I’m going to lie down.” Luke gave one last cough. “Get me up when you’re about to land.”
The Millennium Falcon swooped through a textured blanket of clouds toward Salis D’aar. Over the city and west across one river, smoke drifted. Han brought up a remote sensor as they decelerated. Peering between Han’s head and Chewie’s, Luke spotted a knot of people behind a blast barricade at the complex roof port. A familiar shape waited with them. “Artoo!” he exclaimed. A swirl of long blue-green skirts, backing away from the blocked-off landing zone, was obviously Gaeriel. The Falcon dropped steadily on its repulsore. Gaeriel’s uncle the prime minister stood near an unbound, defiant Wilek Nereus, who still wore Imperial drab with red and blue rank buttons.
“He doesn’t look like a prisoner to me,” Leia muttered, pointing through the viewport. “I’ll make you a bet Governor Nereus doesn’t intend to surrender the Salis D’aar garrison. He could hold that against all of us for a long time.”
Han reached for belly gun controls.
“Don’t you dare.” Leia shook her head. “We’re back to diplomacy.”
“And we’ve got Commander Thanas,” said Luke. “He could surrender the garrison.”
The Falcon settled to ground with a muffled thud.
“Particularly if you told him to,” Leia returned. “How are you feeling? Could you …?”
“I can’t push it. You’d better take charge.”
“Right,” she said grimly. “I’ve set up enough Resistance cells to know what happens if we botch this.”
Leia clenched her seat while Han sprang up and loosened his blaster in its leg holster. “Okay, Goldenrod,” Han called into the comlink. “Bring Thanas to the main ramp.”
Luke stood up more slowly. Leia almost saw two Lukes: one strong, cocky, and victorious, the image he meant to project—and one withdrawn, worried, exhausted, and in pain. Tired enough to make mistakes.
She squared her shoulders. “Do you want to stay on board until it’s obvious which way this is going?” she asked.
“Uh … sure.” Luke scratched the back of his neck. “Nereus probably thinks that he killed me, anyway.” He stepped to one side of the main hatch and unhooked his lightsaber.