Star Wars: The Truce at Bakura

by Kathy Tyers

  “And we’ve got Commander Thanas,” said Luke. “He could surrender the garrison.”

  The Falcon settled to ground with a muffled thud.

  “Particularly if you told him to,” Leia returned. “How are you feeling? Could you …?”

  “I can’t push it. You’d better take charge.”

  “Right,” she said grimly. “I’ve set up enough Resistance cells to know what happens if we botch this.”

  Leia clenched her seat while Han sprang up and loosened his blaster in its leg holster. “Okay, Goldenrod,” Han called into the comlink. “Bring Thanas to the main ramp.”

  Luke stood up more slowly. Leia almost saw two Lukes: one strong, cocky, and victorious, the image he meant to project—and one withdrawn, worried, exhausted, and in pain. Tired enough to make mistakes.

  She squared her shoulders. “Do you want to stay on board until it’s obvious which way this is going?” she asked.

  “Uh … sure.” Luke scratched the back of his neck. “Nereus probably thinks that he killed me, anyway.” He stepped to one side of the main hatch and unhooked his lightsaber. From there, he could hear without being seen. “Be careful.”

  Threepio appeared around the bend in the corridor. Commander Thanas matched his pace step for step. “Your droid tells interesting stories,” Thanas commented drily. “Despite the fact that he insists—repeatedly—that he’s not much of a storyteller.”

  Educating the prisoner, Threepio? Commander Thanas had probably gotten an earful of Alliance propaganda.

  The main hatch hissed and then opened. Leia led down the ramp. The rooftop group filed around the blast barricade toward them, Captison in the lead, closely followed by Governor Nereus and his female escorts … and Artoo. Han kept one hand on his blaster. Once Leia and Han reached the rooftop, she glanced back. Threepio followed, shackled to Thanas. Chewie came last, bowcaster already fitted with a quarrel. The air smelled unpleasantly smoky.

  “Artoo!” exclaimed Threepio. “You can’t imagine what I’ve been through—”

  “Save it,” snapped Han.

  Commander Thanas ignored his metallic escort and walked eyes-ahead, expressionless like a man who expected a brutal dressing down. He passed Leia at the foot of the ramp and came to attention as well as anyone could when handcuffed to a protocol droid.

  “I assume you’re not expecting compliments.” Governor Nereus closed the distance between them, clasping both of his hands behind his back in a swaggering pose. “A few years ago, when I commanded a cruiser, a commander who surrendered his ship was stood against the nearest wall and shot.”

  Leia stood forward. “We brought him with us only to prove that he’s in our hands, Governor. He is not your prisoner. He’s ours. As I hear you are.”

  “I’d like to see you hold either of us.”

  “You have no space forces left. Surrender your garrison, and you and all your people may leave Bakura freely … immediately.” An X-wing flying patrol tore shreds from the low smoky clouds.

  Governor Nereus smiled placidly at Leia. “Perhaps you forget that I still command three thousand land-based troops. Furthermore, Imperial survivors are landing all over Bakura in lifeboats as we speak. You have had a single ship surrender to you. That is all.”

  “We’ve moved the Dominant into a stationary orbit, Governor,” Leia countered with a grateful glance at Han. “Its armaments are locked onto the Salis D’aar garrison. I know it’s not designed for planetary assault, but it’ll do considerable damage if we give the order. Even if we released you, you couldn’t hold Bakura forever against the will of its people.”

  “No? That is standard Imperial policy. It’s working all over the galaxy.” Governor Nereus kept his hands open and in full view. Evidently Han’s blaster made him more nervous than he was showing otherwise.

  Someone shoved Leia from the left. Gaeriel strode between Han and Governor Nereus, keeping just out of the line of fire. Leia had never seen her look so defiant. She’d knotted her shawl over her skirt, out of the way, and wedged a blaster rifle under one arm. It dangled, ready to use. Finally Leia guessed what Luke saw in her. “Governor,” Gaeriel announced, “if nothing else is going to come of your treachery, then I shall make my own small gesture. I resign from Imperial service.”

  Nereus centered his hands over the side stripes of his trousers. “You cannot. You belong to the Empire.”

  “I think not, Excellency.” She spoke calmly, but Leia saw that her unmatched eyes were puffy, as if she’d been crying. If she’d been grieving for Luke, she had a surprise in store. “Princess Leia, please accept my congratulations on your victory—” Gaeriel stiffened, turning as pale as if she’d seen a ghost. Leia pivoted back on one foot.

  Luke stood at the center of the Falcon’s main hatch, saber in hand but not ignited, looking like a lithe gray-suited shadow against the Falcon’s dark interior. She would’ve bet his smile had something to do with Gaeriel’s open mouth and wide eyes. The thin little woman standing next to her brightened and whispered, “Hello, Jedi.”

  Whatever Wilek Nereus had stepped forward to say, he forgot it. “No!” he exclaimed, horror twisting his heavy features. “You can’t be here! Get back on board! You’ll infest us all! You don’t realize—”

  Luke took one step down. “Gaeriel Captison belongs to Bakura, not the Empire.”

  Governor Nereus whirled toward Gaeri. With speed that belied his age and bulk, he yanked the blast rifle out of her hands.

  Luke dropped into a crouch. Han had already drawn his blaster. Nereus fired twice. One bolt deflected off the Falcon’s hull. The other flashed toward Luke, intersecting a green-white blade that whipped into its path and deflected energy back along its own course.

  Wilek Nereus fell blank-eyed. Luke stumbled, too. Gaeriel gasped. Leia froze in place. Get up, Luke!

  Artoo rolled forward at top speed, beeping and whistling. Slowly Luke pressed back to his feet. He held the saber upright in front of him, its hum the only sound Leia heard over her thumping heart. He waved the little droid back. Han leaned over the governor, blaster steady, but Nereus didn’t move again.

  Leia stepped around Governor Nereus’s body toward the Bakuran prime minister. Captison snapped to attention, regaining poise. “Prime Minister Captison,” she said, “for this moment Bakura stands alone. If your people choose to rejoin the Empire …” she nodded aside at Commander Thanas, “we will withdraw and leave you to conduct your own affairs. Commander Thanas may supervise your defense against the Ssi-ruuk, if they return before the Empire sends you another governor. You may continue alone, knowing the Ssi-ruuk might return. But if you choose to align yourself with the Alliance, we should negotiate a permanent truce immediately.”

  Captison saluted Leia, then Luke. “Your Highness—Commander —we thank you. It is not likely, however, that the Imperial garrison will surrender.”

  Luke walked slowly down the ramp. Leia hoped none of the others guessed that weakness, not dignity, set his pace. “We have accepted Commander Thanas’s surrender,” he said, “including the Dominant, the land-based forces, and the Imperial garrison.”

  Leia held her breath and waited for Commander Thanas to contradict Luke’s statement. The thin Imperial frowned, but he said nothing. Was he holding his tongue, or was Luke keeping him from speaking?

  “Commander Thanas,” said Luke, “you are free from custody. If Bakura’s citizens ask the Empire to leave, you will oversee the troops’ withdrawal.”

  Thanas nodded and raised his wrist. Threepio’s arm came with it.

  “Let him go, Threepio,” said Luke.

  The droid produced a master chip and waved it over Thanas’s binders.

  Luke moved closer and looked up at Thanas. “Take charge of your men, sir. Remember, the Dominant’s new crew is watching.”

  Thanas opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, then seemed to change his mind. A double-podded local patrol craft streaked out of the hazy sky and landed close to the Falcon. Two Baku
ran enforcement officers sprang out, steering a repulsor litter between them. They hurried toward Nereus’s body.

  Commander Thanas turned on one heel, keeping his military posture painfully straight. “Detail,” he called, “fall in.” Nereus’s stormtroopers followed Commander Thanas’s long stride toward the nearest drop shaft.

  “You’re just going to trust him?” Leia whispered to Luke. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing.” Luke’s eyes also tracked the commander. “He’s not forgetting the Dominant. Even if it’s not up to full capacity, we hold the high ground. And besides, I have a feeling.”

  “Will you excuse me?” Prime Minister Captison raised his bushy white eyebrows. “I must make an emergency broadcast. I can almost guarantee that Bakura’s people will choose to join the Alliance after all that has transpired today, but I must consult them.”

  Leia could almost guarantee it, too. “By all means.” She inclined her head respectfully. To her delight, Luke saluted and even Han came to attention. Captison strode toward a different drop shaft.

  Still watching, Father? Leia glanced over one shoulder, but all she saw … or sensed … was hazy gray sky. Every world she took from the Empire was another defeat for the ghost of Darth Vader.

  On the other hand, if Anakin Skywalker cared to look on, that wouldn’t bother her in the future. She’d found her peace in the midst of battle.

  Gaeriel pulled her elderly companion toward Luke. This, Leia guessed, had to be Eppie Belden. “Well done, young man!” The tiny woman gripped Luke’s elbow, then seized his hand and pumped hard. “And thanks. If Bakura can ever do something for you, just name it.”

  Gaeriel glanced aside, then said to Luke with heartfelt relief, “You’re alive. Did you—”

  “Can we talk later? I’ve got a very sick … friend on board, being treated for burns.”

  Forget Dev Sibwarra, Leia wanted to shout. He’s dead. This girl has finally come around. Don’t let her go, if you want her!

  “Oh,” Gaeriel exclaimed, stepping back. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

  Leia frowned at her brother’s back. He was already halfway up the ramp, walking stiffly with his head bowed.

  Gaeriel touched Leia’s arm. “I’ve never met anyone like him, Your Highness.”

  “You never will again, if he leaves you here,” Leia muttered. “Excuse me.” She trotted after Luke.

  CHAPTER

  21

  Luke rejoined Leia at the hatchway. “He’s strong enough to apprentice,” he explained hastily. “And young enough. We’ve got to save him.”

  “I’ll help if I can. But, Luke …”

  Commander Thanas’s medical corpsman held a mask and clear tubing to Dev’s mouth, and he’d bandaged Dev’s ruined eyes. “Bacta purge,” he said briskly. “It might accomplish something. It might not. At any rate, I gave him something for pain.”

  Abruptly Dev lifted one arm. Luke leaned over and tried to smile encouragingly. “Dev? It’s me, Luke.”

  Dev pulled the tube out of his mouth. “Wait!” cried the medic. Sticky fluid splashed the deck. Luke grabbed and bent the tube, stopping its flow. The sickly sweet smell evoked wretched, claustrophobic memories of a tank on icy Hoth. The corpsman seized the tubing and locked on a clamp. “Don’t let him talk long, if you really want to save him.”

  Luke knelt. “Dev, you can start your real training even before your body heals. It’ll keep you occupied.”

  “Oh, Luke.” Dev smiled back faintly. “I could never become a Jedi. My mind is scarred. I’ve been …” He pulled a deep breath and struggled on. “… controlled. By others—for too long, Luke. Thank you for letting me finish cleanly.”

  Luke lifted Dev’s scarred hand between his own. “Alliance surgeons can do wonderful things with prosthetics. They’ll treat you at Endor.”

  “Prosthetics?” Dev’s eyebrows raised above the bandage. “Sounds like entechment.” He shuddered.

  “Don’t let him talk any more!” The medical corpsman shoved Luke out of the way and pushed his mask back onto Dev’s face. Luke tottered against the bulkhead and stretched toward Dev’s presence to reassure him. Dev gleamed in the Force, fully as clean as he had claimed. Dev must have concentrated on healing his spirit, not his body, while he lay in the Jedi trance.

  But he seemed to be shrinking. Luke knelt again and enveloped Dev with his own strength, trying to anchor Dev’s presence more strongly to his ravaged body. Dev returned a wash of gratitude.

  Abruptly, light flooded out of the Dev-spot in the Force. Luke flinched at its brilliance. “Dev?” he called, alarmed.

  The flash faded. Dev Sibwarra’s presence vanished with it into a vast, surging sea of light.

  “Lost ’im,” the corpsman growled, glaring at his medisensor. “He really didn’t have a chance, Commander.”

  Luke stared. Where’s the justice? he wanted to cry. He’d made a start. He could have learned control.

  Couldn’t he? Luke seemed to see Yoda standing on the Falcon’s gaming table, leaning on his stick and shaking his head.

  “Sorry.” The medic drained his tubing, coiled it, and swept his other gear back into the carry pack. “I gave it my best try with portable equipment.”

  “I’m sure you did,” Leia murmured.

  Luke covered his eyes with both hands and coughed.

  “You’d better rest, sir,” said the medic. Leia’s voice, and the medic’s, grew fainter and farther away. Luke stayed on his knees, remembering the young man who had suffered, and escaped, and died on the celebration side of victory.

  Some time later, a small hand rested on his shoulder. “Leia?” he asked softly. “Did you—”

  “No, Luke. Leia’s down in the complex negotiating. It’s me.”

  That was Gaeriel’s voice. Had Han invited her on board? Luke struggled to stand, but his right leg wouldn’t push. “Help,” he muttered. Gaeriel pulled him up by one arm. To his surprise, she swept off the shawl she had tied around her waist. Delicately she shrouded Dev’s face.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “No one else cared.”

  “I did that for your sake, not his.” Gaeri raised one eyebrow. “Was he really all right, in the end?”

  “In his mind? Yes,” he answered quietly.

  “Why?” Gaeriel whispered. “Why did you want to save him of all people?”

  Not wanting to meet her eyes, Luke spoke toward the Falcon’s deck. “He’d known suffering. I wanted him to know strength.”

  “I’m not sure it was just strength you showed him. You also gave him human compassion.”

  Control. He must control. He wanted to collapse in her arms. He tried to smile.

  “Don’t.” She slid her hands around his waist, then up toward his shoulders. Pulling him close, she whispered, “Let it out, Luke. It hurts. I know. You’ll have joy later. The Cosmos balances.”

  Flinging pretense aside, Luke held her and cried. She stood and took it. Maybe seeing him like this would balance her memories of his powers. Finally quieted, he led her to seats at the hologram table.

  “How did you—” She faltered. “I assume—you killed the Trichoid larvae?”

  “Is that what they were?” he asked. “How do you know?”

  “I got one, too. Governor Nereus called in a medic for me. But you had no medic.”

  “I had the Force.”

  “You were wonderful at the cantina. I’ll never forget that.”

  “What else could I have done?”

  She stared up at him. Strands of honey-colored hair, stirred by the Falcon’s ventilators, drifted into her face.

  “Your world is beautiful,” he murmured. “I’m glad to have seen it.”

  “I have no desire to leave again. Ever.”

  “Bakura will be sending an envoy to the Alliance,” he said gently, trying to mask his last hope. “You’re perfectly trained for it.”

  “When that day comes I will nominate someone else, Luke. I have work to do here. Eppie will need me, and Un
cle Yeorg. I’m a Captison. I’ve been trained for this.”

  “I … understand.” Disappointed in the end, he rested his elbows on the hologram table and shifted his legs. The right one still ached where he’d wrenched it, and breathing deeply hurt. He’d spend the entire hyperspace run back to Endor in another healing trance. Either that, or Too-Onebee would dump him into a tank again. Probably both.

  “Are you taking prisoners of war?” she asked quietly.

  “We don’t do that. It would make liars of us, and lies of our goals. Every trooper we send home will tell three or four others that the Alliance … well, that we had them in our power but we let them go.”

  “Luke?” she whispered. She laid her fingertips on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  He felt the softening he’d hoped for, too late. He turned to her slowly and fully opened himself to the Force, hoping to make the sensation last. This time, she wouldn’t raise her defenses. “What for?” he asked. “This has been a victory for humankind.”

  Her cheeks colored. “I want to be your ally, Luke. But from a distance.”

  He pushed back a quiet desolation that threatened to send him over another emotional brink. He mustn’t think of spending forever alone. “From a distance,” he agreed, hesitantly touching her face. “But just once, from here.”

  She leaned into his arms. He kissed her, letting the moment flood his perception, petal-warm lips and the deep sweet warmth of her life presence.

  Before she could pull away and ruin the memory, he released her. “I’ll see you off the ship,” he murmured. They stood. He walked her along the corridor, careful not to limp.

  The medic intercepted him at the top of the ramp. “I believe you need attention, sir. I assure you my sympathies are neutral.”

  “Good-bye,” Gaeri murmured.

  Luke squeezed her hand. The Force will be with you, Gaeri. Always. He stared after her until she vanished into a drop shaft with a last flicker of skirts. A breeze dropped swirls of fine ash from the rioters’ fires on permacrete outside. The last stormtrooper had long vanished down the drop shaft, following Commander Thanas.