CMC
By Sapadu
A/N: Just a little housekeeping before beginning- I'm sorry if the last chapter kind of put people off a little. If it was stuff about the Countess, like her 'business' or the scene with Monsieur Caarousse, I'm sorry, but it's essential to the plot. If it was my poor attempts at humor... again, sorry- I have no excuse for that. If it was Kyp Durron-tachi and you didn't like how they were portrayed... don't worry- I shouldn't slaughter their character's too badly... they're like the Chateau-Renaud of this fanfic... And probably won't show up again.
If I'm mistaken and nobody was too put off by the last chapter, I apologize for mistaking it, but after four chapters in which virtually everyone leaves a review, and suddenly, nobody reviews for chapter five... it does tend to make me think that people have stopped reading- I can't be sure...
Chapter 5:
Madame'le'Crigan'du'Come'te usually treated those on her staff generally well, compared to what was considered acceptable behavior among the upper class gentry.
This has nothing to do with the current story- it's just something the reader ought note, or very little will make sense in several scenes, and the way the Countess will behave towards her employ will not be as warning or foreshadowing as it would be with this knowledge.
For the moment, which happened to be nighttime, the Countess's steward, by the name of Gornash, was sleeping. His sleep was not restless, but nowhere near peaceful, as nightmares usually tend to make one's REM cycle easily disturbed.
He dreamed very briefly, but vividly, not of an imagined figment, but of a portion of history- a piece of the past of someone in the house, whose nightmares he'd seen more than once as he'd tried to keep them away.
It was a boy, only thirteen years old, inside a cell. The walls were made of metal, welded together so tightly that it wouldn't even be possible for a lame man to find a grip to pull himself to his feet. No light entered the room, except from the emergency lamp outside the door for the security guard to see by.
The guard wore the uniform of a Rebel soldier. This was one of their prisons- floating out in space, so tightly secured that no one could escape.
The boy made no sound, and was barely discernible under his mane of dirty hair, which had grown out so long that it was almost as long as he was tall. Occasionally, eyes would peek out from between the tresses, staring into the blackness, as though he could see something in the lightless room. Hands stuck out from underneath the hair, attached to whatever body he possessed by a pair of arms that were thin, and bony, with skin that was wrinkled and a pale yellow, and flesh that hung off the bones like empty sacks.
All over the cell, the words were written 'Let me out'. The boy's fingers were stained red, as though he'd dipped them into some kind of berry juice, or bloody meat, or red ink. But, after a few moments, he started to claw at the floor, the skin and flesh quickly coming away from their bones, but, as he stared at them, irises tiny against the overly exposed whites, and pupils consuming almost all of the iris, the fingers healed almost immediately, only leaving the stain of blood on them, and the fingernails growing back to their claw-like state.
Contrary to what most stories or dramas say, people do not awaken from nightmares with a start. Even from violent ones, with explosions, blood, and death. People awaken from nightmares the way they awaken from dreams- their eyes open, and they realize they're no longer sleeping. The only difference is, with nightmares, a person's eyes will open and insomnia usually keeps them that way, while pleasant dreams will cause a person's eyelids to flutter open, blink a few times, and then the sleeper will burrow under their covers again, trying to keep dreaming.
Such was how Gornash found himself back in the world of the living. His green eyes opened, pupils dilating, then contracting again in the darkness that wasn't quite as dark as the insides of his eyelids. After a few moments of staring at the wall, he sat up, then left the mattress, pacing around the room to find something to do, but in the end, he left his sleeping quarters and made a brisk pace towards the room with a large window.
The Countess was there, reading a book without any kind of light, whatsoever- even the window, though it shone with the colors of the night sky, gave off no light, as the stars were so small and faint, and the moon was gone from the sky. Were it not for her pale, almost luminescent skin, which showed at her elbows, face, neck, and small portion of her collar, and the bleached white ruffles that spilled from the ends of her sleeves and the part in her hoopskirt, she would have been practically invisible in the room, which was just as black as her dress and hair.
As she could see perfectly well in the darkness, however, she noticed as Gornash entered the room. Gornash, endowed with a hard-earned, equally keen sense of night vision, crossed the room in three strides and knelt before the Countess, took one of her hands, which was covered in a silk glove, in his own, and pressed his forehead against the back, head bowed into her lap. She didn't react with any visible surprise, except to lift her other hand and stroke his hair, fingers catching on any tangles or knots, and rubbing the strands together to ease them free and back into their original state.
"What brought this on?" She finally asked, as Gornash turned his head and rested it against her knee, more like laying his head on a pillow. He was silent, but finally answered.
"...I saw it, again..."
"I see." The Countess replied, hands shifting to ease the tension in her steward's knuckles.
"...It just bothers me... That another person would go through that..." Gornash whispered, while the Countess listened, "...It was bad enough... being trapped was one thing... even being in the spice mines was another... but... to be in a cell... confined, with nothing to do but ponder over what had happened to you... not even any kind of light to see by... not even the company of another person to ease the loneliness..."
"Ah, but you're forgetting..." The Countess corrected him, and Gornash suddenly nodded.
"...Oh... yes... there was someone else... after a few years..."
Gornash closed his eyes and breathed in, deeply, letting the woman who, by day, was his employer, comb her fingers through his hair, making sure that none of it was tangled after her work.
"It's all in the past, Gornash. Whatever sadness or sorrow any person of this household has been through, it's over now. They're free."
Gornash's eyes opened.
"Are they?" He asked, shifting a little so that his green eyes met hers, which glinted silver in the darkness, "Are any of us truly free? You, who remembers every moment, even the tiniest details of your past? Me, who dreams of them every time I close my eyes? Haid, whose songs and poems are nothing but the story of her past? Jacci, who has to endure the memory every time she looks in the mirror? How can any of us be free, if our pasts continue to follow us, no matter where we run to?"
One of his hands clenched in the Countess's skirt, but she paid it no mind.
"It's over. The past is over- even if the memories remain. That's part of why we have memories- if we forgot our pain, we wouldn't be the people we are. Besides..." The Countess stood, though Gornash remained on his knees, both hands firmly in her grip, "...Doesn't that make life right now all the more sweet? To know that, whatever it was that we suffered, we survived, and look at where we are, now."
Gornash was pulled to his feet. Standing, he was well over two feet taller than the Countess.
"If freedom is what you seek, I will give that to you." The Countess warned, a predatory gleam in her eye, and not at all in the way that one normally thinks of statements like that, "I, for one, have no desire to be free, for to forget what I have endured would take away my resolve to complete my mission. And I highly suspect that the others here would prefer their current situation to the only alternative that true escape from the past."
Gornash shuddered at how the Countess could manage to be sweet, motherly, and comforting one moment, and the next, she would change into a dark, brooding character whose only thought was the nihilistic idea of death being the only true escape.
"But, for now, why don't you go back to bed and get some actual rest?" The Countess's demeanor changed, again, as she spoke with a smile.
Gornash nodded, and left, as the Countess returned to her seat, and picked up her book again.
Han and Leia were having a discussion of their own, except it was more in a manner of pillow talk. Particularly, about their son.
"I just have a bad feeling- that's all..." Leia whispered, while Han attempted to soothe her, running a hand up and down her back.
"How bad? Like, how is it different than just being paranoid?" He asked. Leia closed her eyes and contemplated a moment...
"It's... It's like there's a wall..." Leia finally said, pantomiming the idea of a wall with her hand, distractedly, "...Maybe I'm just bothered that Jacen and Jaina are pulling away... but, with Jaina, I can still feel that she's there... I can still feel that connection, I can still have this sense of where she is and if she's at least alive... But Jacen... He's disappeared from my senses completely... I couldn't even tell if he was dead or alive during the war..." The lower half of Leia's face was buried against the pillow.
"But they're alive, now..." Han reminded her, hand stilling for a moment, "A lot happened during the time with the Vong here... Remember- that's what's causing all the troubles for the Senate? You should be focusing on that more than Jacen and Jaina- they can take care of themselves, they're adults, now."
Leia closed her eyes, briefly, then opened them again.
"I feel like that would be bad parenting, though..." She mumbled, her voice muffled, as though she didn't want to be heard.
"No- bad parenting would be if Jacen and Jaina came to us and asked for help and you brushed them off saying that the Senate was more important." Her husband replied- it wasn't the first time that they'd had this discussion, but that doesn't mean they'd had it often. The last time they had spoken like this had been around the time of Anakin's birth, Leia worrying over if her children would be safe from the Dark Side during that time of their lives.
"But, still..." Leia mused, sleepily, "...People died... because of the Vong... and they're still getting over that..."
It had been, in fact, almost eight years since the death that Han's mind immediately reverted to. He shuddered, slightly, but didn't say anything.
"It's been a while... I mean... We've hardly seen them since the war ended... Even if they are growing up... Detachment like this just makes me worry... a lot..." Leia muttered.
Han squeezed her shoulder.
"They'll be fine. You know me- anyone gives MY kids shit is asking for it."
It was a thought that was both reassuring and worrying enough that Leia didn't want to linger on it.
"Let's talk about something else." She said, firmly, even if it was muffled against her arm. Han pulled a face, then amended.
"Alright... how's the search for a willing donation to the repairs going?" He finally asked. Leia shrugged a little.
"Badly. The weapons that the Yuuzuhan Vong left behind keep causing more and more damage and every time we find a rampaging remnant of a ship or weapon and bring it under control, three more seem to pop up on the other side of the galaxy."
"What about the alliance with the richer worlds, like Hapes?" Her husband asked, remembering the supposed untold wealth of the sector. Leia flinched, though she didn't show it.
"They can only do so much- a lot of planets with rich economies aren't willing to donate anywhere near the amount repairs would cost, and Hapes in particular is having political problems of it's own, especially since Teneniel Djo died during the war..."
Han let out a rare sigh, lowering to be level with Leia's face, and whispering a few, hopefully encouraging words.
"I'm here for you- and whatever you do, I'll support you in it. You know that, right?"
Leia's eyes had closed, but she smiled.
It would be odd that the next day was a day of business, in many senses of the word. We shall follow Madame'le'Crigan'du'Come'te, and perhaps, that will give the best understanding of the events that occurred.
At the start of the day, the Countess left her residence with her steward on three measures of business- one, to find an appropriate banker; two, to find a suitable ship that would suit her needs in the case of an emergency express flight; three, to pay a call to the house of the Solos, as they were the parents of the respected Selle Jaina and Sieur Jacen, as well as family friends of her mediators.
Her first business was quickly found in the form of a male Gotal owner of a financing company in his family name. The Countess tilted her head, intrigued, as the Gotal came in through the door of the elaborately decorated office- it seemed to be more like a ballroom, with it's brilliant vault of the ceiling and the delicate swirl of metals in a pattern on the wall and in the chandelier, as the intent had obviously been to dazzle her from before the start of the business. The Gotal walked with a strange swagger, almost an arrogant strut, as the ornate robes of a financial owner swished around his ankles.
He remained standing, while the Countess did not rise to greet him.
"You would be Madame'le'Crigan'du'Come'te, I presume?" He asked, with a disarming smile, which the Countess returned.
"Only if you would be the Sieur Raimindur Gastess, Baron of the Kaledio Station in the Parmic Sector, and Treasurer of the Society for Honorable Business?" She replied, only repeating the titles off of Gastess's business card. His lower eyelid twitched, but Gastess sat himself down, the file of papers prominently displayed on the table.
The Countess's eyes shifted slightly, and met a gaze with her steward, who understood what she meant to say, and closed his eyes.
"Now, then... I have the recommendations from the three other firms that you forwarded to me... Unfortunately, I must confess that their meanings are... somewhat obscure, and I was wondering if you could clarify a few minor details." Unlike other Gotals, he did not speak in a monotone, but rather in a mild tone- like a person who has the ability to feel emotions, but a little less than the ability to express them. For a Gotal, this would be unusual, but considering that Gastess had grown up on Coruscant, and thus, surrounded by other beings, it was only natural that he had picked up on some of the facial expressions and vocal inflections.
He either did not notice, or did not care, that the Countess's steward was, by all appearances, taking a dozing nap where he stood.
"Certainly." The Countess replied, but there was an edge of boredom to her voice, as though she knew what the question would be.
"It's this matter of the limits- your three accounts have this particular clause, which struck my interest, stating that there would be no upper limit to any of your credit accounts." Gastess explained, as though this should have been all the explanation the conversation needed.
"I know this, but am currently having difficulties in understanding what is so obscure..." The Countess replied, pressing her fingertips together. Gastess gave her a significant look, then frowned, as though cursing something.
"Well... to be frank, the use of the word 'unlimited'..." He repeated, and the Countess blinked in a manner which, had her steward been looking her way instead of having his eyes closed, would have sent him into a fit of snickers, as it resembled the expression that Ben Skywalker had worn on their first encounter so accurately, "...Whenever the word 'unlimited' appears in business contracts, it implies a great deal of uncertainty..."
"Uncertainty? It's for that precise reason that the word 'unlimited' is used there- I am uncertain of how great my need will be for a credit account with this firm. I wouldn't open an unlimited account if I knew how much I would need." The Countess interrupted. Gastess swallowed, a little, but continued to press.
"I don't mean to downplay your needs, Excellency, but the point is that with uncertainty there comes a great deal of risk..."
"Is there not also risk in the stocks and bonds? Isn't that precisely how profit is made in a game like this?"
"Well... conceding that a little risk is necessary in business... however, in terms of an account, allowing someone to establish an unlimited amount... suppose I was simply short of what you needed?" At the disapproving look the Countess gave him, Gastess continued with that same false smile, "I'm not saying this firm has insufficient funds- I could easily accommodate you with a million..."
"Beg pardon?" The Countess interrupted, again, holding her fingertips up to her ear.
"I said a million..." Gastess replied, but stopped at the look in the Countess's eyes, as though he'd just made a very grave statement, very similar to the look Jacen and Jaina Solo had learned to tread cautiously around when the Countess showed such an emotion.
"A mere million? If I needed a sum like that, I wouldn't have bothered to come and open an account- a vulgar trifle like that is pocket change, to the point that I have that precise amount on me at all times, for a moment's notice." The Countess demonstrated her point, pulling out from the inner pocket of her jacket a credit chip, with, indeed, a million credits on it, as though she spent it daily.
There are very few things in the galaxy which could put an expression of shock on a Gotal's face, even one who is accustomed to the emotions of mixed company, and the Countess had just succeeded in one of them.
Her point being made, the account was settled and a recommendation of credit was filled and signed, but Gastess had more questions.
"I have no intention of insulting you, or calling you a fraud, Excellency..." He began his short interrogation with, which made the Countess's steward's nostrils flare, slightly, as that sort of statement usually does mean an insult of some kind, "...But I must confess a curiosity to the kind of financing you must have, to be able to have four accounts across the galaxy, each with unlimited credit, there must be some sort of fortune that you have- since, after all, the idea behind recommendation accounts is that the sum will be paid back..."
"I understand you plainly enough." The Countess replied, and Gastess continued.
"My only real concern is what this fortune of yours is- I was under the impression that all fortunes of aristocrats and nobles were liquidated under the Galactic Empire, and, in any case, there would have been note of a fortune such as your family's escaping the Emperor's attention..."
"It is not my family's fortune, at least, not until recent generations- but it is old, that much is sure, and has accumulated interest over the years which has caused it to triple. And, need I remind you, I am a stranger in a strange land on this planet- it is entirely possible this Emperor of yours never was even aware of the planet where this fortune gathered." The Countess replied, with a scolding gesture.
Gastess looked uncomfortable at her reminder, then composed himself, before the Countess gave a question of her own.
"Sieur Gastess, I have a question for you... just in the ways of opinions... supposing that someone of my status would be in the market for a ship that can go beyond light speed- is there any dealer that you would suggest I go to?"
The Gotal looked up at her, incredulous, before remembering that his new client was not accustomed to the people of the Core Worlds, before informing her.
"No dealers, but if you want to know anything- anything at all- about ships, the expert would be at this address." He wrote it for her, and the Countess accepted, with a slight smirk as she read the name.
"Well, it would seem that no one is safe in this web that we weave..." The Countess mused to herself, as she left for her social call.
Leia, having just dealt with an irate faction of Senators who wanted to separate from the current Congress and join the Killiks, was not in much of a mood to be dealing with whimsical aristocrats, but let none of her displeasure show, diplomat that she was, even if there was no hiding her exhaustion- her normally dark hair was a lighter shade than usual, some hairs purely gray, and her eyes seemed sunken back into her head, her eyebrows furrowed over them, eyelids wrinkled as though she'd been out in bright sunlight all day and was just now retreating into cool shade which she need not squint through, while there were the faintest of lines under her eyes, almost like she would have had circles or shadows under her eyes, except her skin refused to be discolored like that.
It was obvious she hadn't slept well when she HAD slept last night, but, given the pride of the former Princess of Alderaan that she was, Leia was not about to let anyone see her look beaten- like a warrior who, even though they were bruised and bleeding, continued to march on towards the enemy.
"It's a pleasure to meet you- are you the Madame'le'Crigan'du'Come'te that my brother told me about?" Leia asked, extending a hand to shake. The Countess took it, rising from her seat, but frowned, slightly.
"I am- though, I must ask, who is your brother, so I may be certain I have made his acquaintance instead of someone else?" The Countess asked, with the slightest expression of concern. Leia smiled, attempting to not be harsh, as Luke had warned her that this woman was a foreigner, and that he'd not told her of their relation.
"The Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker- he is my twin." Leia replied, sitting and signaling for her guest to be seated as well.
Leia was not watching the Countess's steward, but if she had been she would have noticed the slight change of expression on his face- a microscopic widening of his eyes, and a brief parting of his lips, as though he wanted to say something to that extent- before it fell back into the usual expression of stoicism. Instead, Leia saw the smile that lit up the Countess's face.
"Oh, so then, you would be the mother of the Selle Jaina and her brother Jacen, whom I met on Ord Mantell?" The Countess asked, looking delighted. Leia raised her eyebrows and shrugged.
"It seems that way, even if I wasn't informed of it from those sources..." She replied and, while the Countess tilted her head in curiosity, she said nothing.
"I invited them and their cousin- apparently, your nephew- Ben Skywalker to several events and meals, as they were having difficulties due to the impromptu visit leaving them without necessary reservations, but they never told me I was sharing bread and salt with the children of Coruscant's guardian angel." The Countess mused, smiling. Leia chuckled, lightly, at the flattery.
"I wouldn't know about that- if the current crisis continues, I may have to play the role of destructive monster to the government, the way factions are voting for a dissolution of the current congress." Leia shook her head, discontented, which only seemed to appeal to the Countess.
"Oh- have I come calling at an unappealing time? I wouldn't mean to cause you interruption, if there are other tasks that you need attend to..." The Countess rose, as though to illustrate her point, but Leia waved her hand, to motion her back to her seat.
"No... it's alright. I don't have any appointments today, and things are becoming so tense that to be completely unoccupied wouldn't be right- part of my job is to be sure new citizens are settled." She reassured her guest, settling into a more businesslike posture, but the Countess sat, looking concerned.
"Could I offer any assistance?" She asked, and when Leia's face slipped, for even the briefest of seconds, to reveal her surprise, she explained, "Just as you would be uncomfortable to have nothing to do at a time like this, I feel the utmost of my duties would be to assist the government on any planet that I'm living on, currently. Please, tell me how I could be of service, Senator."
Leia sighed, and lifted a hand to massage her temple, the worries coming in and disrupting her collected thoughts. The Countess's face was that of pure innocent eagerness to help, like a child who knows when her mother is ill and wants to care for her, before Leia gave her a sad smile.
"I'm sad to say that it's mostly a financial matter... and, while I don't mean to undermine your offer- we need all the help we can get- I don't want to impose on you, especially if you wouldn't be able to keep up for some reason or another and it would cause you troubles. The size of the sum alone is something whole worlds wouldn't donate." Leia explained, feeling uncomfortable at discussing politics and uneasy by the look that the Countess was giving her.
"Really? If it's something that must be dealt with in pieces, I might have some contacts on other planets who would respond in if I rallied them, armed with knowledge of what the sum was..." She insisted, leaning in with an intense expression. Leia blinked, then settled back, contemplating the matter, before she finally leaned forward to give the response.
"It's not as simple as that- part of the problem is that half the Senate doesn't even want to pitch in to the repairs, because there are several factions in the Senate that are just as xenophobic and anti-droid as the Vong were, as well as wanting to restructure our government system completely... I don't want you to be alienated just as you're being integrated into Coruscanti society." She said, in a voice that wasn't a whisper, nor conspiratorial, but would have sounded like that to anyone listening in who didn't understand the language. The Countess just smiled.
"If my actions stir up unwanted feelings, they shall have trouble with me, not I with them." The Countess replied. Leia took a deep breath, and then told the Countess the information she needed.
"An estimated sum to repair damages caused by the war and to prevent further damages by the remnants would come to 1,610 trillion standard credits, provided that everything could be dealt with with no future damage." Leia explained, quietly, and at the expression on the Countess's face, she continued, "Like I've said, this is something that has the Senate divided... most of them don't want to raise the money in the first place... and most planets with wealthy aristocrats or valuable resources simply aren't up to such a large task- or, in the cases which might be, they are in political situations that make foreign relations less relevant."
The Countess, however, had her hand pressed against her mouth, as though in deep thought.
"However, you asked to make this call for a social visit- I'm sure you don't want to spend your time here listening to a Senator bemoan her troubles with the Senate." Leia tried to get off the topic, as it was making her uncomfortable the way the Countess's eyes were fixed on her, though she couldn't quite realize why.
"No, Senator, I'm beyond interested- in fact, I'm quite thoroughly engrossed. As a new citizen, do you not agree that it is my responsibility to have a thorough knowledge of what kind of political atmosphere I'm entering into, and that my civic duty lies in doing my part to see that justice prevails?" The Countess replied, those haunting eyes fixed on Leia's face, as though penetrating her skin and seeing into her mind.
Leia shook herself and focused on her words.
"I'm glad to hear you share that sentiment- too many people today are too far removed from the political functions that govern the most important decisions of today..." Leia said, with a smile, almost distantly, one which the Countess seemed to share.
"Unlike back in the good old days?" She asked, with a sardonic smile, as though she was both joking and being seriously sarcastic and mocking at the same time. Leia frowned, looking slightly out the window.
"...I wouldn't say that. There's no such thing as the good old days- not when they never happened." Leia mused, almost talking to herself, except she wasn't. The Countess smiled, then shrugged, and, as she closed her eyes, Leia realized what had been so unnerving about them- the Countess hardly ever blinked.
"You can never blame a generation for living in their own time- even if a generation always improves on the past, they will always make their own unique mistakes." Her voice was soft, as though gently reminding someone of a simple fact they had overlooked. Leia smiled back, feeling, suddenly, a little less begrudging to the Countess, given that she very rarely met somebody so excruciatingly patient.
"If that is how you insist on it..." Leia finally conceded, "Then, I've told you what the political atmosphere will be like for your household- hopefully, another war can be avoided, but there is going to be a great deal of tension, however you see it."
"Tension is inevitable- I've learned to welcome it instead of run away, over the years." The Countess explained, before she gestured to her steward, who handed her a metal case with carrying straps. Leia raised an eyebrow, but kept herself composed as the Countess opened it and turned it to face her- inside, there lay thousands of credit chips, each bearing the limit of a billion credits.
Leia stared for a moment, outwardly impassive, before she smiled at the Countess.
"I appreciate the offer, but, with how the system works, simply handing over the sum is not acceptable for the Senate..." She said, as politely as she could, but the Countess's smile didn't fade.
"Suppose if a Senator were the one who held all the money and they were the ones to donate it?" The Countess asked. Leia frowned, slightly.
"That would be acceptable, but I can't imagine any Senator with this much in their revenue to be able to spend it all..." Leia met the Countess gaze, then the thought occurred to her, "Unless YOU know of someone..."
"I certainly do, as do you- I'm looking at her right now." The Countess replied, smiling. Leia didn't flinch, but returned the calm gaze.
"Again, I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn't feel comfortable simply accepting a gift of money without giving something in return." Leia said, maintaining her composure in a situation where men in her same position would have fallen to the floor, or thrown open the case, drooling and frantically counting the money.
The Countess seemed pleased with her reaction, and nodded, complacently.
"I can appreciate that. Then, shall we say I made a purchase from you and offered this particular sum- which would be more than enough to cover the amount the Senate needed and would do extra good on the side- in return for something valuable that is in your possession."
Leia's inward demeanor changed, even if her face didn't.
"Given that the purchase would be within reason, I would gladly agree. I just can't think of what you could be imagining- If you came expecting that I might have fabulous jewels or artifacts of Alderaan's royalty, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I swore those luxuries off long before I even became a Senator for Alderaan. And if you were planning on purchasing, perhaps, the house that my husband and I live in, it's not even worth a fraction of the sum you're offering." Leia said, doing her best to remain gracious while, on the inside, she was trusting the woman before her less and less.
The Countess laughed, a light and musical intonation of her voice, which made shivers go up Leia's neck.
"Oh, no, Senator- please, rest assured that this gift has no intention of driving you to ruin." She replied, before continuing, "No... I was thinking of something which I truly do lack- a ship. Preferably, the fastest the galaxy has to offer. I was under the supposition that you were married to Captain Han Solo, the pilot of the Millennium Falcon- I would be interested in knowing if that would be a worthy trade of the price I am offering." The Countess finally explained, taking Leia quite off-guard.
'I'll bet you would be...' A cynical, suspicious voice in the back of Leia's head said. She ignored it, seriously thinking over the offer, but not without doubts.
On one hand, a solution to the budget crisis was being, literally, handed her, with extra on the side, which, as the Countess had said, might be put to another use- funding for the department of education, relief missions to refugees, investment in businesses to produce better jobs, welfare programs, the list was endless...
However... the Falcon... That was something which held history, and importance, beyond what any kind of money could buy... It had been the ship to save the Alliance more times than they could count in the war against the Empire... it had been the ship to save their necks at Bakura, Kuat, Dathomir, the Black Fleet Crisis, and so many countless times during the war...
And... Han...
Since Chewbacca had died, the Falcon had become so important to him, almost as though he was afraid the memories of his honor brother would vanish with the ship if anything happened to it. And, adding to the fact that Leia was now in the position of the co-pilot...
But... a Senator must never allow her personal emotions to interfere with politics- this was not supposed to be an emotional decision, it was political, economical, and practical...
Was it?
"That's a difficult decision to make... the Millennium Falcon is also part of the naval fleet and an important mark in history- many citizens see it as something of a symbol of the might of the old Alliance, as well as progress for the Republic..." Leia explained, but the Countess seemed to find this made the bargaining easier.
"If you are worried for your fleet, I would be more than willing to continue it's service- there are several in my household who are excellent pilots, if the need ever came of them- and I would not dream of taking the source of pride and confidence away from the people of this Alliance. But, on a diplomatic side, might it be a good gesture of disarmament to the factions that support pacifism. And, for enemy systems, it would be a sign that you do not wish for another war to break out, nor wish to attack them, and thus, negotiations will be significantly more bearable." The Countess suggested, with a slight shrug. Leia frowned a little at her, but, thinking about it, it was that much better...
But still... Han...
"I'm here for you- and whatever you do, I'll support you in it. You know that, right?"
Hadn't Han said that? Wouldn't this mean...?
"Very well." Leia agreed.
"You SOLD the Falcon?" Han Solo demanded when he went to check on the ship and found it missing. Leia had the good grace to look guilty at the fact that her husband was upset, but stood firm on her ground.
"Han, you told me that you would support me in what I did, and this was a good solution to the current crisis, and more- there's plenty leftover after the donation sum, so if you wanted, you could get a new ship and make the same adjustments that you did to the Falcon." She argued. Han's face went white, then red, then purple.
"It's not about the SHIP- Leia, the Falcon is like a part of the FAMILY!" He insisted, and Leia scowled.
"Stop acting childish." She scolded, sharply, "The Millennium Falcon was a great ship, and you were a great pilot- we couldn't have brought down the Empire without you, or that ship- and I know you've been pilot for years, and that the Falcon was very important to you... I understand, and I appreciate that..." Leia's tone changed to somewhat soothing, before she sharpened again, "But... You're causing too much fuss over it..."
"You just don't want to be the co-pilot anymore!" Han accused, and Leia's patience snapped.
"You're still upset over Chewbacca- that's what it's about, not the fact that the Millennium Falcon is now the property of someone else: You're upset that the ship which he co-piloted with you is gone." Leia accused, knowing full well this was still a sore spot and not caring because she was so angry with her husband, "Let it go!"
Han opened his mouth to shout and one of his hands raised, but Leia grabbed his wrist in midair.
"If you even THINK about it, I will walk out the doors and make your life miserable, I swear to it." She whispered.
Han's eyes met with Leia's, and she met his, and their staring match continued in furious silence for several long minutes, before a knock on the door interrupted them. Leia took a deep breath in and calmed, and Han, though he did not break his gaze, lowered his hand, his teeth grinding, before Leia answered the knock.
Standing at their door was a man in an elegant livery coat, with a card in his hand. He bowed deeply, and handed the card to Leia, who noticed the embellished initials CMC on the back.
"I come with a message from my mistress- Madame'le'Crigan'du'Come'te- regarding the freighter, the Millennium Falcon." Han tensed at these words, but Leia didn't react, waiting for the man to continue, "Milady has wished to return it, without any detriment to you, for reasons that she has explained in her message. I have the Falcon awaiting my piloting skills, and I need your permission to return it to it's docking port."
Han's jaw dropped, and Leia smiled, thanking the man, who left quickly, and, in a short while, returned with the Falcon, guiding it smoothly into it's port, where Han Solo met him with a sincere handshake and exuberant welcoming back for his ship, which, upon inspection, had gone through a complete refurnishing- replacement of pipes with holes in them, replating of surfaces that had been scratched or dented, the control panel replaced with control sticks, switches, and buttons which had a strange ability to mold into the shape of the user's hands so they fit against Han's fingers like a glove, and the seats for the pilot, co-pilot, and passengers reupholstered with the same material that had made the pilot's grip comfortable.
Han inspected his ship twice, each time finding new surprises that he hadn't found before, with Leia helping him, their argument forgotten.
"Han... the cargo bay has some strange new fixtures- these pipes have hidden doors, like they're meant to be places to hide something... there are even light fixtures inside them..." Leia reported, running a hand around the large tubes, which were big enough she could have fit inside one with room to spare. She heard Han make a strange noise, like his tongue clicking against his teeth, through the headphone set they were using to communicate.
"There's a bunch of new knobs and do-hickeys on the control panel, too... An extra shield generator, a cloaking device, a port for an R2 unit to inter phase with the computer, a screen for the computer to give feedback to the pilot with a translator from binary to Basic, Correllian, and a few other languages I don't recognize..." Han was silent for a moment, on the other end, then spoke again, "Leia, I'm going to whistle- time me."
"Why?"
"Hang on a sec..." A low pitched whistling noise came through the headset, for a minute, before Han spoke again, "Now... whistle back, at the same pitch, for the same amount of time." Leia frowned, but did as her husband asked, and then heard him grumble a little.
"Han, what is it?" Leia asked, worriedly pressing the right ear headphone closer to her ear.
"These headphones... their connection is clearer. There's no static, no breaking up, nothing- it sounds almost like you're standing right next to me..." Han mused, and Leia understood.
"I thought they sounded a little too clear..." She agreed, before Han called her back into the cockpit.
Leia arrived back in the hull, settling down into one of the chairs, which seemed to melt to accommodate her frame.
"Do you have that note this Countess woman sent with this?" Han asked, with a heavy crease in his brow as he frowned. Leia pulled it out of the case she'd been keeping it in, and read it.
"She wrote on the back 'I wish to extend my apologies to Captain Solo, as it came to my attention that he was greatly upset by my purchase of his ship. It would seem that some things in this world are too valuable, even to be replaced by wealth. I beg Captain Solo to take back his ship with the extension of new additions in hopes they will be enough to appease the good captain, as well as prove useful in future situations, as I do not wish to be the cause of a family's distress upon my first interaction with them. As for the Senator Leia, I would be eternally grateful if she would please excuse my less than sociable manner in returning this ship, as I am too ashamed to show myself before you after such a grievous misunderstanding.' And then, as a second part of the note, she included a folded up blueprint of the Falcon, showing where the new functions were, and what they did."
Leia handed Han the piece of folded paper, which he undid, carefully, but not without impatience, until he saw the whole layout of the new ship, not feeling in the least bit surprised when he saw several new adjustments that they had not found, even on their third pass through the ship.
Finally, Han made a noise that sounded between amusement and curiosity. He looked out the window, then frowned, seeing the Countess's servant still standing outside in the docking bay, patiently waiting against the wall. With a shrug, Han pushed himself up, away from the console and walked out of the Falcon, towards the man, whom stood straighter.
"'Scuse me if I sound rude, but what's the big idea, hanging around like you are?" Han demanded, with a slight scowl. The Countess's servant didn't take offense at the tone.
"I'm sorry, I should have made myself clear when I first came." He apologized, bowing, "But Milady asked me to remain behind until I could be sure the return was to your liking, and if it wasn't to return immediately and inform her so that she might correct the problem."
Han raised his eyebrows, before he grinned.
"In that case, tell her Excellency that I'll graciously accept her most thoughtful gift, only on the condition that she didn't use repair droids to make all the adjustments, and that she won't be offended if I make a few adjustments of my own, if there comes need of it." He replied, doing his best to mimic the dialect of Basic that all of the Countess's employ seemed to use. Her servant smiled, bowed again, and took off quickly.
It was with a little more wonder, however, as Han and Leia resumed a much more pleasant evening that Han could not take his mind off of how the Countess could have made such radical changes, and how, in the end, she could possibly have been able to give back the ship without asking for anything in return.
Leia, on the other hand, was suspicious of the exact same matter. As soon as supper finished, she reached into her resources as a Senator to find some trace of who this Countess was, something which her husband was neither ignorant of, nor entirely interested in.
"Milady, please don't make me do the budget again." The Countess's steward pleaded as the Countess over viewed the events of the day, before she finally turned to him, with a slight smile. Gornash was kneeling on one knee before his employer, who was seated in the library, again.
"Gornash, I am about to ask you a few questions- they will put the otherwise torturous hassles of today into a proper perspective to be examined.
"First, do you remember the species of the banker who we saw today?"
"Yes, Milady- he was a Gotal."
"Very good, and what is the special ability of Gotals that makes them such rare finds on Coruscant?"
"Their headcones, Milady- these allow them to detect electromagnetic fields given off by living creatures, especially allowing them sensitivity to emotions, and as such, a world such as Coruscant that is abundant with technology and machinery, this would normally cause a Gotal intense disorientation and other problems."
"Now, with that in mind, did the banker today seem disoriented or otherwise unhappy, cranky, or confused, even in the slightest?"
"No, Milady."
"And, when I signaled to you to focus your emotions so that they would change rapidly over the course of our visit, did you?"
"Yes, Milady."
"And did our banker seem to be disoriented or distracted by that?"
"No, Milady."
"Therefore, we can only conclude the only reason he exists on Coruscant is because his headcones are defective. Now, remaining on this subject, what was the name of our banker?"
"Raimindur Gastess, Milady."
"Is the name 'Gastess' familiar to you?"
Gornash was silent, unsure for a moment, before he nodded.
"There was a Gotal by the name of Salim Gastess- he was a financier during the Imperial era was very successful at it, possibly because his headcones were nonfunctional."
"So, who do you suppose Sieur Raimindur Gastess was, then?"
"...His son, perhaps, Milady?"
"Precisely. Now, tell me some other observations you made."
"...Well... he was extravagant... excessive... too friendly for a businessman... I hate to say it, at the fear of using the word incorrectly, but I'd almost say simpering... perhaps even cowardly..."
The Countess smiled.
"Those are the correct words for him- Sieur Gastess has inherited his father's finance incorporation, meaning he has grown up rich and at his ease, but he lacks his father's intelligence and aptitude for business."
"In short, he's an idiot."
"My thought, exactly. For this reason, he is arrogant, greedy, and lazy when he's in a situation that he believes he has control over, but when he is taken advantage of and backed into a corner, he becomes as you said, cowardly and simpering, trying to bargain his way out and earn back some of his control."
"I see, Milady..." Though, while Gornash understood what she was saying, he did not understand what she was thinking.
"Now that we know this, let's overview what we learned during the visit with Princess Leia."
"She told us of the political atmosphere of the current society, so we know what to expect from that end..."
"Not of the politics, but of the Princess and Captain Solo, themselves- for one, Princess Leia told us somewhat of her personal opinions on political matters, which we will examine later. But, first, what did we discover about the Millennium Falcon, material wise?"
"It was painted black, Milady."
"And why was that?"
"...It was most likely for camouflage, Milady."
"Is there another reason, perhaps?"
"...Possibly also to represent mourning."
"Very good- now, given what that tells us, who do you suppose Captain Solo would mourn the loss of so deeply?"
"...His son, Anakin, perhaps?"
"But why would he honor his son by painting the Falcon? Think closer to home- someone else who had a bond with Captain Solo who shared that ship?"
"Chewbacca, then- he was the co-pilot and Captain Solo's honor brother..."
"That's more like it. Now, when I had the ship brought here, before the repairs and adjustments began, what did I first call for?"
"You called Ouduar."
"Why?"
"You wanted him to sense the past emotions and events that the ship carried."
"And what did he tell you, when you spoke to him in his dream?"
"There was sorrow, and suffering, but there was also a sense of determination and focus."
"What does that tell us about Captain Solo?"
"...That the loss of the wars has strengthened his reslove, Milady?"
"Very good- what does this tell you about the Captain, as a person?"
"...If I had to say, I would think he is a typical Correllian, except his blood is a more refined rocket fuel and his nerves are closer to iron than steel."
"I couldn't have said it better, myself. With that in mind, why do you suppose I deliberately began to prepare to return the ship to it's rightful owner?"
"...Because... you knew that the sale of the Falcon would be a cause for argument between the Princess and her husband."
"With that in mind, I literally held the key to their domestic peace. Why do you suppose I went to such lengths to achieve this end?"
"Because, by the return, you would make, if nothing else, an ally of both the Princess and the Captain in one stroke."
"Correct. Now, tell me something else personal that Princess Leia told us."
Gornash was quiet, then hung his head.
"She is one of a pair of twins..." He replied, quietly. The Countess nodded, and said nothing.
"She does not live with her twin... even given the circumstances... how...?"
"In societies like this, it is widely accepted that siblings separate when they enter adulthood. Even identical twins separate and live their lives without each other. However, the case of these two is far different- they were separated at birth, supposedly for their own protection, and not even told of their own twin."
At this information, Gornash's expression went from pained to horrified to furious, before he stood up, glaring.
"Then why do you not try to fix THAT?" He demanded, before the Countess's eyes flashed, and for a woman of the Countess's stature and supposed physical weakness, it was indeed frightening to see that inexplicable emotion that seemed to animate her face that, otherwise, might have been made of fine porcelain, pressed ivory, or shaped wax. Gornash's knee dropped again, and his head bowed, an unspoken whisper of apology sweeping the room with all possible sincerity.
"Gornash, you yourself Saw what would have happened if they had been left together- tell me, and give me the assurance your mind is still suitable for you to remain on my staff."
"The Emperor would have found them, Milady."
"Yes, and then?"
"And then, however young they might have been, they would have destroyed him."
"Yes, and then?"
"And then, when their father came to reclaim them as his children, they would have destroyed him, too."
"Yes, and then?" And when Gornash's voice choked and he did not answer as promptly as his employer would have liked, she repeated, "And then?"
"And then... they would have taken the Emperor's throne... and ruled over the galaxy as the Twin Sith..."
"Precisely. That, Gornash, is why you, yourself, told me that this was the time we must interfere in."
Gornash remained bowed, but his expression was something to behold, as his eyes closed, as though trying to fight back some invisible horror with his eyes.
"But... for a pair of twins to be forced apart... it seems so cruel..." He protested, and glanced up to see the Countess resting her fingertips on her knee, a signal that she wished for him to come forward, which he did, shaking from head to toe, before the Countess's hands guided his head to rest on her lap.
"It is cruel, indeed. Perhaps if they had at least been told of the existence of their twin, maybe the cruelty could have been lessened, but what is, is. Now, we must focus on the aim for the present." The Countess agreed, before her voice softened even further, "I understand- you miss him a great deal, don't you?"
Gornash nodded, then looked up.
"It's sometimes too much to bear..." He whispered, while the Countess calmly soothed him, before she continued.
"Would you prevent anything like your fate from happening to someone else?" She asked, and when Gornash nodded, she lifted one of his hands to her lips, "Then trust me- and it will be prevented." But before she could kiss it, Gornash pulled his hand away and offered his forehead, which the Countess accepted, before the door opened and Jacci entered the room, somehow knowing it was an appropriate time to interrupt.
A/N: O-kay... if you look up Gornash and Salim Gastess, you will find they are not, actually, OCs, but, instead, characters that I found in the EU- as are many of the Countess's household (excluding Haid and Jacci- even Hiken, to some extent, is a character that someone else thought of) But don't expect to find anything on their pasts which will happen in this story, because a lot of the characters I use will be characters who were introduced, given a role, a slight personality, but no background or history whatsoever, so I decided to play around with it.
If you have any suggestions on how to improve the fic- I'm not very accustomed to writing the main cannon character's (Luke, Leia, and Han) so I need all the help I can get, trying to keep them in character. If someone wants to beta-read, that be even better (And you'd get cookies, too!)