Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [98]
One more weapon down. Artoo reached Gaeri, seized her by the leather waistband of her belt, and dragged her toward the front door. Luke hopped crookedly onto the nearest orange tabletop. His numb right leg twisted as his full weight landed on it. That’ll probably hurt, later. He had to use the Force to stay upright.
Artoo’s shrill whistle spun Luke around. Dev aimed an Imperial blaster upward at his body, a classic stun shot.
Luke loosened one hand from his saber and Force-yanked the blaster from Dev’s hand. It sailed to him with slow grace. Easily he spun and sliced. Two halves of the weapon clattered onto the table. Now, urged his inner sense. He reached deep into the Force and felt for the hypnotic control that twisted Dev Sibwarra to the aliens’ will. The shadow of something enormous darkened most of Dev’s memories.
The boy had tremendous strength in the Force, though. Luke wrapped his will around the dark, roiling blockage and blasted it with Light.
Dev tottered backward against another table. In an instant, his mind had flooded with horrific recollections. His anger coalesced, small and stunted but as fierce as a P’w’eck invasion army. Disoriented, he blinked. The monstrous Skywalker had suddenly become fellow human. He didn’t feel depressed, just furious. He couldn’t need renewal … unless …
He stared up at Skywalker, who still stood on the tabletop, and caught a glint of keen eyes and the grim set of his chin.
Dev stroked his throbbing, clumsy left hand, remembering how he’d injured it. Firwirrung! His master had bound him with tender loyalty over years of abusive manipulation. Dev opened his eyes wide to the world, forsaking his squint. He’d never felt such agony or regret, yet so glad to be human. Despite everything they had done … had done … he was battered but whole.
“Are you all right?” whistled Bluescale.
A shiver shook him. He remembered everything now, including the speech habits he’d picked up during his imprisonment. “I’m all right. Are you, Elder?”
“Tell the Jedi to hurry along with us. Promise anything.”
Realization flashed through him: The Ssi-ruuk meant to reduce humankind to breeding animals and energy sources. They would lie, kill, torture, and maim to achieve domination. They deserved nothing but hatred.
Luke Skywalker called down from the tabletop, “Hate is the dark side. Don’t give in to it.”
Had the Jedi plunged him through depression into total release?
“What?” asked Master Firwirrung. “What is he saying to you?”
Confused, Dev answered automatically. “He apologized for killing one of our kind, Master.”
“Tell him to precede us outside. He must hurry.”
Dev looked back up. In human speech, he said, “They want you to—”
A piercing siren echoed through the cantina. Abruptly Dev remembered the most terrible moment of his childhood, a civil defense scramble alarm. Invasion under way.
He snapped back to the present and stared at his masters, stricken. Had Admiral Ivpikkis attacked the orbiting ships after all? He’d promised that the Ssi-ruuk would withdraw if Skywalker came with them. One more link in their twisted chain of lies!
• • •
Luke glanced out the far window, thoughts roiling. The Ssi-ruuk had probably hit that big saucer-shaped orbital station. That would’ve been his first strike, if he were invading. Beyond the fence surrounding Pad 12, the gantries hadn’t rolled away, so he still couldn’t see the Millennium Falcon. Chewie probably waited on board. Han would be trying to spring Leia from custody (or by now, Leia might be trying to free Han).
Artoo rolled back in without Gaeriel. He hoped Artoo had left her somewhere safe. And how badly had he wrenched his numbed leg?
Dev’s confusion also worried him. This young potential apprentice carried deep scars on his psyche. Yet he’d proved his strength. His sufferings under the darkness might make him more loyal to the light. Luke glanced down at Dev again.
Abruptly the room tilted. He flailed and fell.
Caught up in his own thoughts, Dev almost