Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [47]
But he couldn’t control it well enough, and he had no one to teach him.
Dev had felt the presence of one of his own kind. What if it were a real Jedi out there? The Ssi-ruuk would be vitally interested, but Dev didn’t want Bluescale to know yet.
On the other hand, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. They would seek out the other, and Dev would have a human friend—
No, the Outsider was stronger in the Force—a concept his mother had taught him long before that fateful invasion day. Dev would fall from his masters’ attention. Still, they’d entech him at last. Walking lightly, he headed up the broad corridor. Ssi-ruuk passed him going both directions, stepping quickly with their massive heads bobbing. A few wore paddle beamers, for occasional P’w’ecks turned on their masters under the stress of battle.
On the other hand—he slowed again—they might try to entech the Outsider. Humans screamed on the entechment chair. Someone that strong in the Force might kill Dev with his agony.
No, no. Only the body felt pain.
Yet what if this were a fully trained Jedi?
Dev dove into a turbolift and hurried to Bluescale’s work station on the battle-droid deck. He wasn’t there. Several small, brown P’w’eck workers bent over antenna-cornered pyramids recovered by tractor beam. This crew was made up of youngsters, short-tailed with jerky movements. As soon as they finished repairing these droids, the droids would stand ready for the next group of prisoners to be enteched.
Dev watched for a minute. Each P’w’eck did its own job without any sign of satisfaction. This dull-witted servant race only superficially resembled the glossy, muscular masters. Heavy eyes and sagging skin showed that even the young P’w’ecks didn’t bother to eat well. Battle droids shone by comparison.
He hiked up to the bridge and sent one of the cylindrical ultimate security droids looking for Bluescale. He waited outside. A conductive net surrounded the bridge, strong enough to stabilize gravities and repel energy surges during battle. Like a reactor, it could be overloaded, and a direct hit from a large enough ship would overcharge the net and make the bridge a deathtrap. Admiral Ivpikkis made certain no large hostile ship got the Shriwirr in firing range.
The droid couldn’t find Bluescale either. Feeling increasingly urgent, Dev tried Master Firwirrung’s entechment hall.
Bluescale stood in the corridor, giving orders to a group of P’w’ecks. Dev stood back a respectful distance. Once the P’w’ecks scurried away, he stepped close. “You wished me to report, Elder.”
Bluescale opened a hatchway. “Come in.”
Once inside, Dev looked around cautiously. This wasn’t one of Bluescale’s usual work stations. In one corner, waist- and knee-high railings surrounded a meter-square sunken area. A gate hung open. Once Bluescale raised it, it would complete an enclosure. It almost looked like a cage built to hold a P’w’eck. They were led away for discipline sometimes. He’d never seen it done. He started to panic. “There?”
“Yes.” Bluescale slid aside to a small table. Unable to do anything else, Dev stepped down into the enclosure.
Bluescale pressed something hard against his shoulder. “Lean on the railings, if you’d like.”
Normally, Bluescale began renewals by having him lie down comfortably on the deck. At least, this didn’t feel like discipline … so far. “What is it you wish?” Dev whistled uneasily. “What may I do to please you?”
“Talk with me.” Bluescale settled his glistening mass alongside Dev. “How goes your project?”
Suddenly delighted by the elder’s attention, Dev let his weight sag on the upper railing. “It goes very well. My latest effort is a translation of the announcement we delivered to Bakura, a few weeks—”
“Stop,” said Bluescale. He bent his massive head closer to Dev and peered down with one eye.
Dev smiled back fondly.
“You are human,” Bluescale said. “Think for a moment what that means.”
Dev pushed up one sleeve and stared at his soft, fuzzy arm. “It means … inferior.”
“Are you certain?”