Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [30]
“Look at that,” Leia whispered. Where the outcrop took a southeastward bend, an entire city sat perched on its width. South of the city, she made out a double ring of large craters surrounding a tall metal tower. Civilian spaceport, she guessed.
She glanced north again, to the city. Radials and concentric circles of its road system gave it a web pattern, and considerable aircar traffic cruised on and off several sharp towers near its midpoint. “What’s the local time?” she asked.
“Just after dawn.” Han rubbed his chin. “Going to be a long day.”
Irregular green blotches suggested that luxuriant parks had been created in pockets of soil on the rocky white outcrop.
“Look.” Luke pointed a kilometer south of the spaceport. Inside a circle of barren black artificial surface, enormous turbolaser turrets guarded a hexagonal complex.
Leia folded her arms. “Standard design for an Imperial garrison.”
“It’s going to be crawling with stormtroopers down there,” Han observed.
“What was that?” Threepio called from his usual station in the gaming area. “Did someone see stormtroopers?”
“Don’t overload a circuit,” said Han. “They’re going to be everywhere.”
Threepio’s answering mutter had the rhythm of, “Oh dear, oh dear.” Luke unharnessed and slipped out of the cockpit.
Chewbacca howled something. “Luke must be expecting a smooth touchdown,” Han translated. “Don’t know why not,” he added.
Leia elected to stay in her seat and brush a wrinkle out of her white skirt. She’d ordered a copy sewn from her threadbare white senatorial gown. She still hoped to dispel the Rebels’ ragtag reputation, if that was possible after landing in the Falcon.
Han flew the ship around the perimeter of Salis D’aar twice, swooping out over the river on each side of the stunning white outcrop that kept them from flowing together. “They’re not firing on us,” he said. “Guess we might as well go through with it.”
Controllers directed Han toward a vacant multiship crater at the western end of the spaceport. The early morning shadows of several moveable repair gantries stretched out long on the rough white ground. “What’s that surface?” Leia murmured as Han made his final descent.
Han glanced at a scanner. “Says here the outcrop’s almost pure quartz. The crater looks like rock glass, but somebody roughed it up.”
The Falcon touched down softly.
“There. See?” Han asked. “Nothing to worry about.”
Chewie barked. Leia turned to look where he was pointing one hairy hand. About twenty people clustered around a long repulsor shuttle, near a gantry at the edge of their landing crater. “Hurry it up, Luke,” Han shouted.
“Right.” Luke’s breathless voice echoed out in the corridor. Leia sprang off her seat and joined him.
Threepio stood nodding approval of Luke’s white shipsuit without rank insignia. As Leia looked him up and down, he hooked on a silvery utility belt from which dangled a blaster, three trifle pouches, and his lightsaber. “Good enough?” He fixed his eyes on Leia. They looked so blue and innocent.
“I guess that’s how a Jedi ought to dress,” she said dubiously. I wish you looked older.
Luke glanced anxiously at Han. Han shrugged. Leia laughed. “What does it matter what he thinks?” she asked Luke.
“You look splendid, Master Luke,” put in Threepio. “General Solo, you’re rather untidy. Don’t you think it would minimize our danger if—”
“Chewie,” said Han. “You want to stay on board?”
It was a valid question. Chewbacca would represent the Alliance well if he came along. Imperials despised aliens on principle, but humans and Imperial-repressed aliens had founded the Alliance together.
Chewie roared. “Okay,” Han said. “Guess we can use one more pair of eyes. Everybody look sharp.”
Leia thought Threepio snickered, if such a thing were possible. Artoo chirped aloud.
“All right,” Luke cut in. “Here we go.”
Leia positioned herself in the center of the group with Luke on her right, Han on her left, and Chewie behind with Threepio and Artoo. Chewie dropped the entry ramp. She walked down slowly, sniffing cool wet air that seemed