Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [87]
Threepio stood inside, waiting with infinite mechanical patience. “General Solo,” he exclaimed. “Thank goodness you’ve come. Senator Captison returned me here, but she took Artoo to her office. His restraining bolt—”
“Not now. Find Leia.”
“But, General, the Ssi-ruuk are coming for Master Luke—and then attacking—immediately!”
“We know that. He’ll be all right—” Han skidded to a halt halfway across the common room. “Wait, did you say, ‘attacking’?”
“Within an hour. We must—”
“How do you—no. It’ll keep. Where’s Leia?”
The tall droid straightened. “She left us in Prime Minister Captison’s office, translating—”
“I know where she left you.” Han paced across the lounge pit, bouncing off repulsor fields all the way. “She and Captison have been arrested. Have you warned Luke about the attack?”
“I’ve been trying, sir—”
“I left him at the cantina next to Pad Twelve. Tap into the central computer. Find out where they’ve got Leia—now!”
“General Solo, Artoo is equipped for direct interfacing. I am not.”
Han’s cheeks heated. “Then stand there and punch the panels like a human. That’s why they built you like one.”
Threepio waddled to the main terminal. Han watched over his shoulder for a few moments, but Threepio worked too quickly to follow. Han checked the charge on each of his blasters and examined his vibroknife. He glanced out the window, then peered into Leia’s bedroom. No sign of disarray. She hadn’t been abducted from there.
“General Solo.” Threepio’s call rang out across the common room.
“What?” Han rushed the droid. “Did you find her? Did you find Luke?”
“I left Master Luke a message with cantina staff, but they were quite rude, and I have doubts as to whether it will be delivered. But Mistress Leia—”
“Which detention area? Where?”
“It appears that she was flown to a small installation in nearby mountains. Some kind of private retreat, I believe.”
“Where is it from here? Show me.”
Threepio brought up a map. Han noted the location—about twenty minutes northwest of town, in a hot speeder. “Okay. Focus close now.” Threepio changed the display. A security fence surrounded one large T-shaped building with a long central hallway and a broad recreation area. Ten woodburning chimneys: Real nostalgia stuff, except for speeder parking near the northeast corner of the fenced grounds. “Yeah,” Han said. “Hunting lodge and party house, I’ll bet. Can you get me inside its security system?”
Threepio tapped more keys. “I believe I have it.”
“Shut it down.”
Threepio posed with one hand touching his chin. “If I may say so, General Solo, shutting it down will put the entire establishment on alert.”
“All right. Shut down anything that’ll let ’em see me coming from the air. And find out how many guards he’s got out there.”
“Ten.” Threepio worked more keys. “It looks like rather minimal security. If I may be allowed to speculate, I would guess Governor Nereus is keeping most of his guards around himself for the duration of the crisis.”
“Smells like another trap.” On the other hand, maybe Nereus simply didn’t want to bring the Alliance down his throat. Maybe he only wanted to space Captison, and he’d just as soon wash Leia off his hands. Off the planet, in fact.
Or maybe Threepio was correct, and he was just scared. Sometimes it took a coward to spot a coward.
He drew his blaster and stalked toward the door. “Let’s go, Goldenrod. We’ve got to get past two stormtroopers.”
“Sir! Take a minute to plan, this once! Minimize your risks!”
Han hesitated. “Minimize? How?”
“Instead of blasting your way out, you might attempt a deception of some sort.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Threepio’s metal fingertips pinged against his waist. “I do not have the imaginative bent. Your creative faculties might be brought to bear on—”
“All right, shut up. Let me think about this.”
He counted his resources.