Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [126]
Threepio appeared around the bend in the corridor. Commander Thanas matched his pace step for step. “Your droid tells interesting stories,” Thanas commented drily. “Despite the fact that he insists—repeatedly—that he’s not much of a storyteller.”
Educating the prisoner, Threepio? Commander Thanas had probably gotten an earful of Alliance propaganda.
The main hatch hissed and then opened. Leia led down the ramp. The rooftop group filed around the blast barricade toward them, Captison in the lead, closely followed by Governor Nereus and his female escorts … and Artoo. Han kept one hand on his blaster. Once Leia and Han reached the rooftop, she glanced back. Threepio followed, shackled to Thanas. Chewie came last, bowcaster already fitted with a quarrel. The air smelled unpleasantly smoky.
“Artoo!” exclaimed Threepio. “You can’t imagine what I’ve been through—”
“Save it,” snapped Han.
Commander Thanas ignored his metallic escort and walked eyes-ahead, expressionless like a man who expected a brutal dressing down. He passed Leia at the foot of the ramp and came to attention as well as anyone could when handcuffed to a protocol droid.
“I assume you’re not expecting compliments.” Governor Nereus closed the distance between them, clasping both of his hands behind his back in a swaggering pose. “A few years ago, when I commanded a cruiser, a commander who surrendered his ship was stood against the nearest wall and shot.”
Leia stood forward. “We brought him with us only to prove that he’s in our hands, Governor. He is not your prisoner. He’s ours. As I hear you are.”
“I’d like to see you hold either of us.”
“You have no space forces left. Surrender your garrison, and you and all your people may leave Bakura freely … immediately.” An X-wing flying patrol tore shreds from the low smoky clouds.
Governor Nereus smiled placidly at Leia. “Perhaps you forget that I still command three thousand land-based troops. Furthermore, Imperial survivors are landing all over Bakura in lifeboats as we speak. You have had a single ship surrender to you. That is all.”
“We’ve moved the Dominant into a stationary orbit, Governor,” Leia countered with a grateful glance at Han. “Its armaments are locked onto the Salis D’aar garrison. I know it’s not designed for planetary assault, but it’ll do considerable damage if we give the order. Even if we released you, you couldn’t hold Bakura forever against the will of its people.”
“No? That is standard Imperial policy. It’s working all over the galaxy.” Governor Nereus kept his hands open and in full view. Evidently Han’s blaster made him more nervous than he was showing otherwise.
Someone shoved Leia from the left. Gaeriel strode between Han and Governor Nereus, keeping just out of the line of fire. Leia had never seen her look so defiant. She’d knotted her shawl over her skirt, out of the way, and wedged a blaster rifle under one arm. It dangled, ready to use. Finally Leia guessed what Luke saw in her. “Governor,” Gaeriel announced, “if nothing else is going to come of your treachery, then I shall make my own small gesture. I resign from Imperial service.”
Nereus centered his hands over the side stripes of his trousers. “You cannot. You belong to the Empire.”
“I think not, Excellency.” She spoke calmly, but Leia saw that her unmatched eyes were puffy, as if she’d been crying. If she’d been grieving for Luke, she had a surprise in store. “Princess Leia, please accept my congratulations on your victory—” Gaeriel stiffened, turning as pale as if she’d seen a ghost. Leia pivoted back on one foot.
Luke stood at the center of the Falcon’s main hatch, saber in hand but not ignited, looking like a lithe gray-suited shadow against the Falcon’s dark interior. She would’ve bet his smile had something to do with Gaeriel’s open mouth and wide eyes. The thin little woman standing next to her brightened and whispered, “Hello, Jedi.”
Whatever Wilek Nereus had stepped forward to say, he forgot it. “No!” he exclaimed, horror twisting his heavy features.