Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [33]
The complex appeared to fill several hectares between two radial highways, and bordered the round city-center park along its southwestern arc. “The complex includes guest and resident housing, Imperial offices, a major medical center, and the grand old parkside building that was our seat of government under the Bakur Corporation.”
Leia looked down, as if she were watching huge, vine-covered trees flit across the complex’s rooftop. Actually, Luke guessed, she was mentally reviewing Imperial protocol. Bakura’s freedom rested on her ability to negotiate this truce. Han, beside her in the shuttle’s front seat, fiddled with his blaster.
At a rooftop landing pad, they transferred to a repulsor tram for a rapid ride across the large complex. Their guide kept up the tour, concluding, “The corporation wing of the Bakur Memorial Building was built over a hundred years ago, overlooking Statuary Park at city center. Please remain seated until the car comes to a complete stop.” The tram slid under a vine-draped arch and decelerated.
“Wait, Leia.” Han sprang up.
Luke slipped out his own side of the tram. Leia kept her seat for a few seconds. “I believe this archway is suitably secure,” Threepio’s observation drifted through an open hatch. “Still, we must be certain of safety.”
Leia poked her head out Luke’s side. “Listen,” she said, “if they mean to hurt us, the entire mission has already failed.”
Han glanced over the tram. “Right. Okay on this side, Luke.”
Luke swung around to the rear of the car and uncarted Artoo. The droid whistled jauntily and extended his tricycle wheels. Han and Chewie stepped out ahead of Leia and Threepio. Luke followed, trailed by Artoo. Door wardens in gold-trimmed violet doublets and hose admitted them to a spacious hallway carpeted in black. Gold traceries ran like veins of precious metal up a row of columns built in double-wedge style, then crisscrossed overhead on a vaulted ceiling. “Red marble,” Leia murmured.
“Worth a fortune, if you could smuggle it out,” Han answered over his shoulder. He followed one door warden. After a few mincing steps in imitation, he shifted back into his watchful stride with glances to left and right, behind every pillar, and toward each open door. Luke listened intently through the Force for flickers of aggression. He sensed nothing. Leia walked serenely ahead of him, at the center of the group beside her protocol droid.
The violet-legged warden stopped at an arch carved of glistening white stone. A rough wooden wall blocked most of it, with scanners hovering on silent repulsorhfts over each side and four Imperial stormtroopers standing guard. The sight of them gave Luke a fight-or-flight surge of adrenaline. “They’re here illegally,” Leia murmured. “We are the galaxy’s rightful envoy to Bakura.”
“Tell that to them.” Han glowered at the stormtroopers. Luke stared up into one sensor’s glossy round eye. Artoo’s dome swiveled around and around as his own sensors scanned the hallway.
“Weapons check.” A trooper bent over Leia and spoke in a metallic voice. “Leave all ordnance in a security locker.” He gestured toward a bank of palm-keyed receptacles across the archway.
Leia spread her empty hands and then folded them mock-submissively. Luke crossed the arch, selected a cubicle, and then palmed its lock while pressing a button to key the locker to his hand print. He drew his blaster from its belt holster and laid it inside. “Come on, Han,” he said softly.
Han had followed him, tailed slowly by Chewie and Leia. Han didn’t seem happy about it, but he keyed a cubicle of his own and set his blaster inside.
Leia cleared her throat.
Han shot her a look that might’ve fried lead, then pulled out his boot knife, the pocket blaster from his wrist sheath, and his favorite vibroknife. Chewbacca was easing off the bandolier for his bowcaster when Luke’s subconscious tossed up a suggestion. “Chewie,” he said softly,