Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [61]
Luke wanted to go back to Endor. “One of you come with me.”
“Sir?” The Calamarian backstepped, clenching his blaster.
“That’s an order,” Luke said quietly. “Follow close, so I can cover you.”
Slowly the tall alien wormed out of his hiding spot in the gantry. A blaster bolt zinged in from across the way. Luke whirled and deflected it, then shouted, “Hold your fire! Chewie, beat their heads together if you have to!”
A Wookiee roar echoed across the empty area between ship and gantry.
“All right,” said Luke. “Come on.”
Walking a little more slowly, this time—the Calamarian wouldn’t move any faster—Luke retraced his steps toward the gunship. He avoided the spot where the bodies lay. “Chewie, where are you?”
Another burst of blaster fire flashed in, then another. Luke leaped and spun, parrying without thought.
Just as suddenly, the firing stopped. A weird creaking groan came from the gantry ahead … and the unmistakable roar of a furious Wookiee. Luke held up his saber to get a better look. The metal tower rocked violently. High overhead, several dark forms clung to struts in the black night. Blasters clattered to the ground.
“Good work, Chewie,” Luke called. He adjusted his grip on the saber. “Okay,” he shouted, “everybody down. Get a good look. This is a Mon Calamari. Not a Ssi-ruu. Look at him!” He heard scuffling noises, but no faces appeared in the green-lit circle. “Come on,” he called, losing patience.
After three seconds of silence, he heard Chewbacca whuffle.
Then out they came, ten humans—eight males and two females—dressed in an assortment of loose, bulky coats and warm hats. None appeared to be armed, now. One male, shorter and thinner than the others, pointed at the Calamarian. “He’s right—it’s not a Flutie,” he said. Luke recognized the voice. This was the man who’d tried to warn him away.
A larger man pushed forward, squinting. Green light flattered nobody, but Luke guessed this character wore dark circles under his bulging eyes in any light. “Quiet, Vane.”
The thin man shut his mouth but shuffled closer to Luke and the Calamarian. Tessa Manchisco stepped into the circle of light. Her eyes reflected green anger.
“This pad is blocked off for the use of Alliance crews,” Luke said sternly. “Why are you here?”
Dark-circles crossed his beefy arms. “This is our planet, sword boy. We’ll thank you to keep critters like that fish—and that hairy one—off of it.”
Chewbacca edged toward that side of the gang.
Luke needed information, and he needed it quickly. Had these ruffians been sent in by the Empire, or were they acting alone? The thin Bakuran stood close enough for Luke to attempt probing his mind, briefly. Luke felt certain his motives were good enough that he didn’t risk drifting toward the dark side.
Still, he hesitated before focusing his attention tightly toward the thin man, opening himself to listen for the man’s feelings (confusion, fear, embarrassment, suspicion …). He thrust past them into memory.
He didn’t have to search very deeply. “A little something, direct from the governor’s office,” had been promised if they hung out close to Pad 12 and made certain the Ssi-ruuk didn’t infiltrate Bakura by way of that closed-off Alliance landing area.
Luke broke off the contact and lowered his lightsaber. “Go home.” He hoped his voice sounded as disgusted as he felt. “Tell Governor Nereus that we’ll police Pad Twelve ourselves.”
No one moved.
A deep, throaty rumble started from Chewbacca’s direction. Picking up the cue, Luke added, “Go on. You still haven’t seen a Wookiee get really mad.”
The thin man slunk out of the green-lit circle toward the bodies. One by one, the others followed. Soon a bedraggled little group shambled toward Pad 12’s main gate, carrying their comrades.
No sooner had they passed through the gate than the main bank of lights lit up again.
Someone must be watching from the Imperial garrison, only a few kilometers south. And Spaceport Security was unquestionably busy at Pad 2, or 6, or 9. On Imperial business.
He exhaled hard. “Let’s go make sure