“Better get it and put it somewhere else. Lightsabers aren’t supposed to be highly detectable, but there’s no point in taking chances. Put it in with the resonator cavities in three shed; they ought to provide adequate shielding from stray sensor probes.”
“Right.” She regarded him thoughtfully. “What was all that business about capital starships?”
“You heard everything that was said.”
“I know. I was talking about your reaction to it.”
He grimaced to himself. “I’d hoped it wasn’t that obvious.”
“It wasn’t.” She waited expectantly.
He pursed his lips. “Ask me again later. Right now, we have work to do.”
For another second she studied him. Then, without a word, she nodded and left.
Taking a deep breath, Karrde got to his feet. First thing to do would be to get back to the dining room and inform his guests of the sudden change in plans. And after that, to prepare himself for a face-to-face confrontation with the most dangerous man in the Empire. With Skywalker and spare warships as two of the topics of conversation.
It was going to be a most interesting afternoon.
“Okay, Artoo,” Luke called as he made the last of the connections. “I think we’re ready to try it. Cross your fingers.”
From the next room came a complicated series of electronic jabbers. Probably, Luke decided, the droid reminding him that he didn’t have any fingers to cross.
Fingers. For a moment Luke looked down at his right hand, flexing his fingers and feeling the unpleasant pins-and-needles tingling/numbness there. It had been five years since he’d really thought of the hand as being a machine attached to his arm. Now, suddenly, it was impossible to think of it as anything but that.
Artoo beeped impatiently. “Right,” Luke agreed, forcing his attention away from his hand as best he could and moving the end of the wire toward what he hoped was the proper contact point. It could have been worse, he realized: the hand could have been designed with only a single power supply, in which case he wouldn’t have even this much use of it. “Here goes,” he said, and touched the wire.
And with no fuss or dramatics whatsoever, the door slid quietly open.
“Got it,” Luke hissed. Carefully, trying not to lose the contact point, he leaned over and peered outside.
The sun was starting to sink behind the trees, throwing long shadows across the compound. From his position Luke could see only a little of the grounds, but what he could see seemed to be deserted. Setting his feet, he let go of the wire and dived for the doorway.
With the contact broken, the door slid shut again, nearly catching his left ankle as he hit the ground and rolled awkwardly into a crouch. He froze, waiting to see if the noise would spark any reaction. But the silence continued; and after a few seconds, he got to his feet and ran to the shed’s other door.
Artoo had been right: there was indeed no lock on this half of the shed. Luke hit the release, threw one last glance around, and slipped inside.
The droid beeped an enthusiastic greeting, bobbing back and forth awkwardly in the restraint collar, a torus-shaped device that fit snugly around his legs and wheels. “Quiet, Artoo,” Luke warned the other, kneeling down to examine the collar. “And hold still.”
He’d been worried that the collar would be locked or intertwined into Artoo’s wheel system in some way, requiring special tools to disengage. But the device was much simpler than that-it merely held enough of the droid’s weight off the floor so that he couldn’t get any real traction. Luke released a pair of clasps and pushed the hinged halves apart, and Artoo was free. “Come on,” he told the droid, and headed back to the door.
As far as he could see, the compound was still deserted. “The ship’s around that way,” he whispered, pointing toward the central building. “Looks like the best approach would be to circle to the left, keeping inside the trees as much as we can. Can you handle the terrain?”
Artoo raised his scanner, beeped a cautious affirmative. “Okay. Keep an eye out for anyone coming out of the buildings.”
They’d made it into the woods, and were perhaps a quarter of the way around the circle, when Artoo gave a warning chirp. “Freeze,” Luke whispered, stopping dead beside a large tree trunk and hoping they were enough in the shadows. His own black outfit should blend adequately into the darkening forest background, but Artoo’s white and blue were another matter entirely.
Fortunately, the three men who came out of the central building never looked in their direction, but headed straight toward the edge of the forest.
Headed there at a fast, determined trot … and just before they disappeared into the trees, all three drew their blasters.