Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [71]
Then, without a chance to clean up, he’d had to help his quartermaster provision the battle group, spending the nonexistent collateral of a maybe-someday government. He’d’ve given a lot for Leia’s help on that one. All this while watching over his shoulder for the Ssi-ruuk and pondering what the dream-warning really meant. No wonder his barely healed body ached.
A pair of Imperial stormtroopers stood guard in the broad lobby outside the suite, blast rifles slung across their chests. Weary as he was, his adrenaline surged. Quicker than thought, he went for his lightsaber.
Then thought caught up. He dropped his hands to his sides, fingers spread. “Sorry,” he murmured to the near guard. “Not used to this.”
“Understood, sir.” The Imperial stood back. Luke slipped inside, then spun through the common room to his bedroom and fell onto the repulsor bed, laughing off his tension. He’d never heard of such a preposterous situation. His apartment, guarded by “friendly” stormtroopers?
He stared across the room and through a huge window, wondering what his Uncle Owen would’ve given for a rain shower like the one that’d just started. Early summer on Bakura would’ve been heaven on Tatooine.
A message light blinked on his personal console. Sighing, he called it up. Senior Senator Belden requested his presence at an early dinner.
Luke groaned. Gaeriel must’ve relayed his message, but he was too late. He’d barely have time to rush over if he didn’t clean up. He needed to speak with the elderly senator—if nothing else, to discuss his wife’s medical history.
Luke keyed in a polite request to see him tomorrow, sent it, then bent over to pull off his boots. The door chime rang. “No!” he whispered irritably. Their guide had shown him how to use the bedroom console to scrutinize callers. He poked several buttons but couldn’t make it work. Wishing he didn’t feel so greasy, he hustled through the common room and answered it himself.
Gaeriel stood half turned away from the door as if she’d rather keep walking than speak with him. She carried a tightly woven string satchel against her blue skirt, and as before, her very presence made his Force sense tingle. “Commander?” she asked tentatively. “May I speak with you for a few moments?”
Luke back stepped away from the Imperial guards’ inquisitive eyes. “Please.”
Once the door shut, she cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, “You’re monitored. We’re about to disappear.” She lifted the satchel and held it open. Inside was a gray box like the one at the Beldens’ apartment. She toggled a large switch, then said aloud—but softly, “Disruption bubble generator. I can’t leave it on for more than a few seconds at once. You’re in danger.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The Ssi-ruuk have approached Governor Nereus.” She slid her hand back into the satchel. “Is your party comfortable here, Commander?” she asked full-voice.
He had to think quickly. “The situation’s a little awkward,” he answered. “I have an allergic reaction to stormtrooper armor.”
Good, she mouthed. She raised her right eyebrow, over the green eye, then twisted her wrist again and softly said, “They’ve asked Governor Nereus to surrender you and offered to leave Bakura if he does.”
The dream-warning rushed back into his mind. So, they meant to move through Nereus. “Naturally, he’s tempted.”
“I don’t think so. He’s not stupid. If they want you alive, he’s going to make sure they don’t get you that way.” She glanced down and moved her hand again. “We all have to deal with our automatic reactions, I suppose,” she announced.
So much for Leia’s assurance that Nereus wouldn’t harm them. Now the fun begins. “The accommodations are excellent, though.” He motioned toward a corner lounge. “I’ve been on my feet all day. Please. Sit down, so I can.”