Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [6]
“Subjugated recently enough to remember independence well.” Mon Mothma rested her slender hand on the edge of the light table. “Now show Endor. Relative position.”
Another speck gleamed blue. Forgotten at Luke’s shoulder, Artoo whistled softly. If Endor was a good bit out from the Core worlds, Bakura was still farther. “That’s virtually the edge of the Rim worlds,” Luke observed. “Even traveling in hyperspace, it would take days to get there. The Empire can’t help them.” It was strange to think of anyone turning to the Empire for help. Evidently the Rebels’ decisive victory at Endor doomed the Bakurans to an unknown fate, because the nearest Imperial battle group couldn’t help. Alliance forces had scattered it.
From a speaker at his left, Leia’s voice projected clearly. “How large is the Imperial force at the system?”
Leia was down on Endor’s surface, in the Ewok village. Luke hadn’t known she was listening in, but he should’ve assumed it. He reached out through the Force and brushed his sister’s warm presence, sensing justifiable tension. Leia was allegedly resting with Han Solo, recovering from that blaster burn on her upper arm, and helping the furry little Ewoks bury their dead—not watching for new trouble. Luke pursed his lips. He’d loved Leia all along, wishing …
Well, that was behind him. The intelligence droid answered her over a subspace radio comlink relay, “Bakura is defended by an Imperial garrison. The sender of this message has added subtext reminding Emperor Palpatine that what forces they have are antiquated, due to the system’s remoteness.”
“Evidently the Empire didn’t anticipate any competition for Bakura.” Leia’s voice sounded disdainful. “But now there’s no Imperial Fleet to help there. It will take the Imperials weeks to reassemble, and by then this Bakura could fall to the invasion force—or it could be part of the Alliance,” she added in a brighter tone. “If the Imperials can’t help the Bakurans, we must.”
Admiral Ackbar’s image planted finny hands in the vicinity of its lower torso. “What do you mean, Your Highness?”
Leia leaned against the wattle-and-daub wall of an Ewok tree house and rolled her eyes toward the dome of its high, thatched roof. Han sprawled casually beside her seat, leaning on an elbow and twirling a twig between his fingers.
She raised a handheld comlink. “If we sent aid to Bakura,” she answered Admiral Ackbar, “it’s possible that Bakura would leave the Empire out of gratitude. We could help free its people.”
“And get that repulsorlift technology,” Han mumbled to the twig.
Leia had only paused. “That chance is worth investing a small task force. And you’ll need a high-ranking negotiator.”
Han lay back, crossed his arms behind his head, and murmured, “You step off onto an Imperial world, and you’re an entry in somebody’s credit register. You’ve got a price on your head.”
She frowned.
“Can we afford to send troops, given the shape we’re in?” Ackbar’s voice wheezed out of the comlink. “We’ve lost twenty percent of our forces, battling only part of the Emperor’s fleet. Any Imperial battle group could do a better job at Bakura.”
“But then the Empire would remain in control there. We need Bakura just like we need Endor. Every world we can draw into the Alliance.”
Surprising her, Han closed his hand on the comlink and pulled it toward him. “Admiral,” he said, “I doubt we can afford not to go. An invasion force that big is trouble for this whole end of the galaxy. And she’s right—it’s us that ought to go. You’d just better send a ship that can make a fast getaway, in case the Imperials get ideas.”
“What about the price on your head, laser brains?