Star Wars - Shifting Gears - Unpublished Read Online Free

base…” Arvee began.
    “Has been on Vengler for quite some time,” the captain finished.
    “Why?”
    The captain laughed. “Why go to all this trouble to defeat only one handful of Rebel soldiers? Not just one. Dozens. You see, there are other traps being sprung as we speak.”
    Arvee sagged against the wall.
    “You, and the captured Rebels from our other operations, will be taken to a stronghold on Wayland, where you will be…” he paused, searching for a word. “Expertly questioned.”
    “You’ll gain no information from me or my men,” Arvee spat.
    “Oh, but we will. Eventually. And it will help lead to the downfall of your pitiable Alliance. You cannot win. The Empire is too strong, has tendrils everywhere. Now, if I were you, I’d get some rest. This will be the last good night’s sleep you’ll have.”

    “I need to get some sleep.” Amalk backed away from the black protocol droid and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Been working on you all night.” He glanced toward the shop window, where the pink light of dawn was peeking through. “Yes, get a couple of hours of rest, then give you an oil bath. Put you on display.”
    He’d made room for the new droid. Amalk’s line of protocol droids had an empty space, right in the center. The protocol units were all shut down, conserving their power for the coming day. The astromechs had long-since finished their hologames and had joined the rest of Amalk’s inventory in what passed for sleep.
    “You can stay up if you like,” Amalk said to his new acquisition. “Make yourself at home. Think of a name for yourself.” He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “See you after a nap.”
    The droid’s white eyes watched Amalk head to the back room. His black head swiveled silently this way and that, taking in the stock of droids, noting none were active, not even the scout. But to be certain… The droid glided behind the counter, retrieved the restraining bolts Amalk kept there for customers. There were just enough for the droids it considered a threat. Finished, it moved noiselessly forward, following Amalk’s path. It stepped through the doorway, raised its right arm, and a thin blaster beam shot from a palm-plate and struck the back of the tinker as he was pulling up the comforter and climbing into bed.

    “Wha…” Amalk fell to his knees and immediately fumbled in his pocket for his sole weapon, a small hold-out blaster he always kept with him in the event someone tried to rob his shop. He tugged it free and gritted his teeth as he turned to face the intruder. The pain from the wound renewed its intensity when he moved, and he bit down on his lower lip to keep from crying out. Then his mouth dropped open when he saw the black protocol droid take aim at him.
    “You?” Amalk fired. The beam from his weapon glanced off the glossy metal and ricocheted harmlessly away. He fired again and again as the droid walked closer.
    “No,” the droid said.
    It was the first word Amalk had heard the droid speak. It must have connected its vocabulator, he thought, when I was busy cleaning my tools. But why? I wiped its memory. It’s a protocol droid. Not a killer.
    “No,” it repeated. “I’ll not kill you with this blaster. There would be too many questions.” Its angular head swiveled on his neck, its white eyes locked on the vat in which Amalk’s droids received oil baths. “Yes.”
    Amalk crawled toward the back door, his movements slow from age and pain. The droid followed, stopped him with a strong hand on his shoulder. The tinker struggled, but the droid held him fast, then lowered a hand to his other shoulder, picked him up effortlessly.
    “Wh-wh-what are you?” Amalk stammered.
    “Not a protocol droid, not something to be put on display and sold as a spy.” The droid’s eyes brightened. “I already am a spy. And I serve a master far better than you.”
    “The Empire,” Amalk said.
    The droid nodded.
    “But I wiped your