Chapter 1 - Proposals
The jungle world of Yavin 4 was never silent. The Force was always roaring with the muted sounds of the billions of creatures that populated the forests and it heaved and bucked like a stormy sea with the countless new lives and deaths that happened each second all over the planet. Nestled in the midst of the jungle the great ziggurats of the millennia-old temples of the Massassi lay underneath a thick blanket of humid heat; the sounds of avians patrolling the forest roof, along with the nattering of woolamanders filled the air around them. Inside the great structures, though, cool silence prevailed.
Well, almost.
"I should not have come back here," a man's voice announced, its deep timbre flowing along the hallways of the Great Temple like the rumble of a small earthquake. "I don't think he will be very pleased to see me again," he continued. "And I won't be pleased either. Don't laugh, okay? This is part of the ritual." The voice stopped talking abruptly and for a heart-beat the silence returned. Then, very softly, someone started singing.
Belana Jen crossed her arms in front of her chest and smiled. Her charge was standing at the center of the temple's great hall that formed the heart of the structure. Roj Kell had shed his dark robes, wearing nothing but his pants and boots, black too, of course. His face, still handsome despite the lines that three thousand years had etched into his skin, was fixed in utmost concentration, his eyes closed. Belana could not pick up his feelings through the Force, but she could see that he was determined to go through with this now. It had taken her a sweet, long time to convince him that this trip was necessary for him to make. He had found numerous excuses to delay it.
His voice, enchanting at any time, made her shiver as it danced gracefully on the melody of the ritual chant he had selected for this task. She felt compelled to reach out to him, to touch him, finding his call irresistible, but this song was not meant for her.
He had explained the effects to her in great detail, but she had not wanted to believe that anyone could have such power as he did, even though she should have known better. The air around them began shimmering with a soft glow, and Belana stared as the chamber filled with the specters of beings long dead who gathered to listen. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, roaring furnaces of a powerful light that wanted to swallow the dead again. But he held the barrier firmly. She thought he was calm, hoped he was, but the task ahead would be hard on him. Belana almost called an end to it then, but too late. A tall woman, pitch-black hair spilling over her shoulders, detached from the crowd of specters and walked toward the man standing in the middle of the chamber. She moved with a grace Belana recognized easily, and she could see the same, calm strength in her green eyes that she could see in the man's yellow.
"My son," the woman began softly, her voice a cool river of chiming bells. "You have called us and here we are. What is your request?"
"I have failed my people," he answered just as softly, and Belana could hear his pain in his tone. "I have failed my heritage. I have failed myself."
"Pride," the tall woman interrupted him harshly. "Far too much pride, my son. How dare you assume that what happened was yours to prevent? You knew you would fail and yet you insisted on taking the blame. Fool!"
He swallowed hard, but made himself meet her cold gaze. "I have tried to atone for that failure. Was that wrong too?"
"My son, you should have accepted our fate, and you should have remembered our lore."
"I did remember. Every day I did remember. I lived by it."
"You were destined to be a guide, not a leader, or a teacher. Life teaches lessons, my son, and it is your task to help people understand them."
"I now," he answered dejectedly. "I always knew."
Belana watched as another specter joined the pair in the center. He was a blonde man of solid, stocky build, and he looked as immovable as a rock. His emerald eyes were gentle and he was smiling. Belana recognized him instantly, and she found it not surprising at all that he had decided to speak in the other's defense. In fact, she had expected it. Hagen Dycos spread his spectral arms in a soothing gesture.
"Knowledge is the essence of this man's accomplishments. Even though his motives might have been misled, he always made those he taught understand one way or the other. He did not fail in that."
"His motives are what matter," the black-haired woman snorted. "They were impure. Respect does not go well with pride, my son. You discarded respect for knowledge, for pride. You must learn to show respect again."
"That is why I am here."
"We will not stand in your way." Heeding her own words the woman retreated again, Hagen Dycos at her side. Kell watched them go with regret plain in his eyes, but then he drew himself up again and pressed his lips together tightly before he said:
"Exar Kun." The specter appeared gradually, fighting the magic of his voice all the way. But Belana knew that there was no escape. Looking the tall Dark Lord up and down pointedly Kell's face darkened with remembrance.
"What do you want, traitor?" Kun demanded harshly, his features twisted in an ugly snarl.
"I am Cor'dan. I am the guardian of life and death. You, master, were neither."
"Really. Are we a bit full of ourselves?" Exar Kun's grey eyes narrowed dangerously. "It was your decision to join me, and now you accuse me of what? Having coerced you?"
"No." Shaking his head Roj Kell closed his eyes briefly. "I knew what you were. I knew what you would do. It was my decision to let you live. I take the blame for that."
The Dark Lord laughed out loud. "So! You take the blame, do you now. Amusing. I don't remember your being so righteous before. Have the Jedi made you their lapdog now?"
"I was blinded by the rules of survival and forgot life over them. I should never have let you do what you did to the Massassi. It was wrong. And the reason why I left you."
"I thought as much. You never had the stomach for that," Kun sneered. "Well, looks like we have both paid the price for pride and failure."
"Yes. You have been here for millennia, neither dead nor alive. I am here to free you."
"Free me?"
"Respect for life requires that I honor the lives you took, but you must set them free first."
"What?"
"You sacrificed thousands to survive," Kell explained patiently. "I want them back."
"They were not your people, my friend! You have no right to interfere!"
"I have a duty to the Force, and I reclaim that duty now."
Belana smiled.
"Mother?"
She looked up pensively, but then recognition flashed across her gentle features. "Luke! Come in. Any news?"
"No, nothing." Stepping into the room gingerly he hesitated, and smiled. "Father is still out?"
"Yes. He said he can't sleep unless he finds Kell again."
Luke laughed. "And it is past midnight already." Dropping down in a chair next to hers he crossed his arms on the table-top and sighed. "Why can't he just let him go?"
She reached over to pat his right arm affectionately and shut down the datapad she had been studying. "What did Mon Mothma have to say?"
"She's concerned. And Leia equally so. You have met him up close. What do you think?" He studied her large eyes intently. For a second distant pain flashed across her mind, making him wince in turn.
"I do not know," she replied at last. "In a sense I trust him to do the right thing."
"And in his case, what would that be?"
Mother smiled at him. "If I knew I would tell you. Where did you leave Nuron, by the way?"
"She's decided to get some rest."
"Maybe Anakin should take an example in her," Mother commented gloomily.
Luke turned hs head toward the door and rose. "He's here," was all he said before he went to welcome his father. Striding into the room the Dark Lord seemed ill at ease.
"No traces, nothing. As if he's vanished from this galaxy," he announced.
Looking up at him Mother raised her eyebrows coolly. "What if he is dead too?
"I wouldn't count on that." Anakin gave his son a scrutinizing glare. "Master Yoda advised me to let him go. Maybe I should heed that advice."
"Maybe," Mother conceded, but a smile was hiding at the corners of her mouth, making Luke wonder what advice his father had chosen not to follow in the past.
"And besides, I have just received news from Chi'in. Apparently we are going to war again."
"What!" Rising from her seat quickly Mother stared at her husband in disbelief. "How so?"
"The Grand Admiral reports increasing movement in the Outer Rim. Something's going on."
"Does he still have the Executor?" Luke asked.
"I suppose he does. But relying on just one asset would be foolish and Thrawn is certainly not that."
"But he did not make an official request to the Republic, did he?" Mother inserted quietly. Always the politician, where Anakin still remained a warrior at heart. Luke smiled at the look his parents shared.
"No, not yet. But if Chi'in believes it could be trouble we had better be prepared. Luke, I want you and Nuron to go and snoop around. Maybe you can find some clues."
"What about the others?" the young Jedi Knight asked, slightly surprised.
"I didn't get the impression that they have time to spare. Meet with Chi'in and the Grand Admiral and get some information back to me."
"Us," Mother reminded Anakin gently.
"Yes, of course. I forgot that I'm not in charge anymore," the tall Jedi replied wrily. He started pacing the room restlessly, apparently still upset over yesterday's events. Suddenly he looked up again. "Where is Leia?"
"She left this morning, don't you remember?"
Slapping his forehead in mock embarrassment Father smiled. "I totally forgot about that!" A wide grin appeared on his face. "That so-called mission to Ithor? Leia will love it."
"No doubt that was what Han is counting on," Luke commented drily. Mother's smile widened.
"That man is full of surprises," she said and Luke frowned.
"You know something we don't ?"
Clearing her throat she averted her eyes diplomatically, but Luke could feel that she would just have loved to spill that little secret. Yet he felt that he should not be the one to ask. Father stepped over to his wife nonchalantly and wrapped her in his arms tenderly, making no effort in disguising this subtle manipulation at all.
"What did he say then?" he asked softly and placed a kiss on the top of her head. She giggled like a teenager and fended him off with a laugh.
"Well, since they are already gone I suppose there can be no harm in telling you," she explained and straightened her dress unnecessarily. A merry sparkle lit up her eyes spectacularly as she looked first at Anakin, then at Luke. "Han will propose to her on Ithor." Clapping her hands in joy she laughed again. "And he asked my advice! Who would have thought that Han Solo is such a perfectionist?"
Luke felt as if his face might split because he was grinning so hard. "Really? Wow!"
"Well, this was to be expected," Father mused, sounding strangely pensive. "But, Ithor?" he grimaced slightly in disbelief. "I would have expected him to spirit her off to Corellia or something like that. Not Ithor of all places."
Leia and Han had found a place in one of the cozy little cafés dotting Treasure Ship Row among the many stalls and shops and more garish establishments that made up Coronet's major entertainment mall. Leia's eyes sparkled in the lights, and seeing her happy like that made Han's heart sing with joy. She looked so beautiful, almost radiant. The smile she directed at him over a dark red drink was warming his face considerably and suddenly he wanted some excuse to spirit her away to somewhere more private. Well, maybe an excuse was not really necessary. But when he leaned over the small table to suggest that they leave, Leia frowned fiercely at the passersby.
"What's up, honey?" he asked softly.
"That man," she answered under her breath. "I thought -"She shook her head, sending her long dark hair flying, but the low chuckle that followed was a surprise. "Oh, Han, I am sorry. Now I have spoiled the mood."
"No, no, that's okay," he assured her, but it was hard to hide his disappointment. The spell had been broken. Looking at him silently out of liquid brown eyes she made it clear that she did not buy his reassurance either. Han sighed. This was not going as well as he had had it planned. It had all seemed so grand. Make her go with him to someplace as enchanting as Corellia's capital, court her with extraordinary dinners, shows and gifts, and above all make her feel the most desirable woman in the entire galaxy. But somehow he had the feeling that he was missing his goal by miles. Leia was as charming as ever, but distant too. Did she miss her work that much?
"Han," she began tentatively, then rallied herself and reached out to lay a hand on his. "It is wonderful, really."
"But? There's always a but, isn't there?" he answered drily.
Burying her face in her drink she mumbled something he did not catch entirely, but he could see that she was smiling. "You know me too well," she said with a laugh at last.
"So, who was that you thought you just saw?"
"Magrody."
"What? The guy who thought up the Death Star? Nasdra Magrody? Are you sure?" Han twisted around in his seat to frown at the flow of passersby.
"He's gone now, Han," Leia reminded him unnecessarily.
"Was he alone?" the Corellian asked suspiciously.
"No." Leia shook her head slowly. "There were four men with him."
"Escort or bodyguards?"
"Both, I believe."
Suddenly all thought of a romantic evening had been discarded for the old game Han knew so well. He heaved a tiny, tiny sigh. "Do we tell Intelligence or do we follow him nice and quiet?"
"I don't think Intelligence has assets here on Corellia. They haven't even signed the treaty yet."
The treaty. He should have known. When he had asked Leia to come on that trip with him she had insisted that she combine work with vacation, as if that would leave any vacation at all! So far he had been able to keep her from meeting officially with the Corellian government. The Liberty was waiting for a call outside the system, to back her claims up if necessary, but Han had wished and prayed that that day would be far away yet. Now though, with Nasdra Magrody here, Leia would focus on her job again. He supposed that she did indeed have a lot to do as the fledgling Republic's Minister of State, but so far it was all chaos anyway, and Leia had a hard time getting anything done. It had been like that for the entire past year and he just knew that she needed rest badly. They had never had a chance to even breathe since the war had ended, and he himself felt burned out. For Leia it must be far worse. Yet she had that look in her eyes, determination mixed with curiosity, that told him that behind that pretty forehead her diplomatic mind was ticking away again.
"Then we follow?" He grinned roguishly. "Could be fun too, you know?"
She smiled tiredly. "I can't go gallivanting across the galaxy any longer, Han. I have my duties."
So it was going to be that kind of discussion. "You can always quit, Your Highnessness," he told her mockingly, and amused himself with the outraged expression on her face.
"Han!"
"Sure, I understand," he sighed. "I'll go and see what I can find out, okay? Guess you'll want to pull a few levers with the big-wigs about this, so I'll see you tomorrow. Early. And don't run off, okay? I want another day of my vacation with you."
Leaning forward across the table she brushed a hand along his jaw gently and the smile she gave him was warm and loving. "Thank you, Han," she whispered softly. "You are the most insufferable nerf-herder I know, but I still can't help loving you." And then she kissed him.
Back on Coruscant Luke Skywalker stood at the ramp of the small yacht Morning Glory and tried to assure his mother that he would be all right. She seemed to believe that she had to make up for eighteen years of his growing up without her, never considering that her little boy was not so little anymore. It had become worse over the past three months for some reason. Fussing over him like a mother-hen she insisted on checking absolutely everything he had prepared for the trip to Niaruan, and Luke fervently hoped that she would be finished by the time Nuron came down to the hangar deck. It would be too embarrassing otherwise.
"Your father says that Chi'in knows the planet, so don't go off without him."
"Yes, Mother."
"You have packed supplies, haven't you? And the comm is functional? Does the ship have an emergency unit?"
"Yes, yes and yes."
She smiled at him. "I am getting on your nerves, am I right?"
"Y- no."
Mother gave a satisfied nod. "You are quick. That is very good, but I know I am a bit over-protective. Just tell me you will be careful, all right?"
"Of course!" he laughed and hugged her fiercely. "I will miss you."
"Then try to be back as soon as possible." That was typical for Mother. She managed to combine genuine concern with pragmatic thinking. As soon as possible? Luke shook his head with a wide grin.
"What? What is it?" she asked, sounding amused.
"Nothing, really," he assured her, then noticed a slender figure leaning in the doorway. Nuron was eyeing him with open interest, her golden eyes glowing faintly in the cold lights of the hangar. "Nuron," he called out and gently disengaged from his mother's embrace. She turned around to direct a warm smile at the young Zabrak warrior who was striding toward them at a leisured pace, a duffle-bag slung over her shoulder and her lightsaber dangling from the slim belt encircling her waist.
"Everything prepared?" she asked and gave Padmé a nod. Luke placed a quick kiss on her cheek, then drew her closer.
"Of course everything is prepared. I was just waiting for you."
"Is that so? Good. Then we can leave. That is, if you are finished with him, my lady?"
"I am. Keep an eye on him for me, will you, Nuron?" Mother replied with a tiny smile.
"Do not worry. Nothing will happen to him while I am near."
Luke felt his cheeks flush red. Why did women always think men could not look out for themselves? At least the women he knew did, and Nuron was no exception, unfortunately.
"Then what are we waiting for?" he challenged, feeling a bit miffed.
"For me."
Looking up sharply Luke frowned at the tall man approaching them with fast, measured steps. Over the last year Father had not managed to shed his military stride that always made him look as if he were in a hurry. He simply could not slow down. Waving a stack of datacards in his left hand he closed in on the small group and lay an arm around Mother's shoulders almost absent-mindedly, his eyes fixed on Luke.
"What is that?"
"The files contain sensitive material. I am not sure if Thrawn does not already know about the contents and I don't trust any other courier or channel. So you will deliver these safely, all right?"
"You know me," the young Jedi mumbled and snatched the datacards out of Anakin's hand. His father smiled.
"Of course I do. That's why I gave them to you, not Jix."
"I thought Jix is off with Mara?"
"Yes, true."
"And you wouldn't want to interrupt their vacation, am I right?"
Father shrugged. "Fact is I cannot raise them. They will report back in when they're ready, which means when they get too bored with that easy life."
"And once they can be sure that you won't get at them for the chaos they produced back on Vjun?"
"Don't remind me," Anakin groaned. "Half of the systems are still offline. I wish I knew what they did."
"Mara said it might have been a virus," Nuron said quietly.
"No virus." Father snorted angrily. "The systems are secure, even more secure than the Coruscant Mainframe."
"And we know how much that helped Thrawn in the planet's defense last year," Luke reminded him.
"The codes, my son, you forget the master codes."
"Imperial Intelligence had your codes duplicated, remember?"
Father laughed out loud. "Luke! Nuron planted those files where they could find them!" The young Jedi's face fell.
"Yeah. I remember."
Patting his shoulder amiably Anakin was grinning. "I know how it is," he said and winked in Nuron's direction. Luke blushed even more.
"We need to go," Luke announced loudly, and grabbed Nuron's right hand, practically dragging her up the ship's landing ramp after him. "No need to worry. We'll check in when we're at Niaruan."
"Do that."
Standing back Padmé and Anakin watched the couple leave. The Morning Glory rose gracefully from its perch on the polished hangar floor and drifted out into the sky above Coruscant on a tractor beam that would guide them out of the atmosphere securely. He had wrapped his arms around her shoulder and hugged her very close, feeling her warmth and love, relishing in her strength. Closing his eyes briefly he rested his chin on top of her head.
"So they're off," he said.
"Yes." Her sigh vibrated through his ribcage.
"I wonder if Han has proposed yet?"
He could sense her chuckle as she turned around and buried her face against his chest and hugged him around the waist. "Curious? I fear not knowing is going to kill you."
"Is it?" He kissed her forehead tenderly. "On the other hand we will have time for ourselves, without the children always nagging at us."
"You enjoy their attention, my dear, don't deny it. I know."
"Maybe I simply enjoy your attentions even more." She laughed at that.
"So, now that we have sent everyone on vacation, are we going to have one too?"
"Are you mad? There's too much to do!"
Someone cleared his throat discreetly behind them. "Lord Skywalker? My lady?"
"Piett!" Turning his head Anakin gave the Admiral a questioning glance. "What is it?"
The man stepped a little bit closer, and his gray eyes were sparkling with amusement. "Speaking of vacation, I am leaving today for Chandrila. Therefore Mon Mothma thought it a good idea to clear up a few things in a meeting this afternoon."
"A meeting. Who is attending?"
"The president, the chief security advisor, the senior analyst, the chief military advisor and yourself, of course."
"An illustre round. When?"
"An hour."
"Then we shall hurry," Padmè mumbled against his shirt. Anakin tried to keep his features blank.
"I will see you then." Piett gave a short military bow and turned away again. He walked away unhurriedly.
"Sometimes that man is as stiff as-" Padmé began, then shook her head. "Chandrila? What does he want on Chandrila?"
"See his family, I suppose," Anakin answered quietly. "I believe his sister lives there, and his nieces."
He looked down at her face, into her big, brown eyes that looked slightly startled. "What?" he asked. "Everyone has a family somewhere, someplace."
"And you know all about it, do you?" She reached up to draw his head down to a level with hers and kissed him deeply. "I am happy that you are back with me, very happy," she said at last.
"I know. And I love that happiness. It makes you glow."
Anakin always found funny ways of telling her that he loved her, crazy little analogies and comparisons that were of such childish innocence that it melted her heart every time he said them. Her arms wrapped around him, she wanted to never let go again, wanted to crush him for the joy he gave her. Over the past months they had had a lot to make up for, a lot of stories to tell and secrets to reveal. A lot of hurt and relief, and even more love. It seemed just like yesterday that they had made their peace back on board the Wilde Karrde and found each other again, heart and soul. Since then she had been able to watch his progress as he had healed from wounds too deep and old to forget fast. If ever. The children had leaped on the opportunity to have both their parents at last and their honest questions and critique had helped break the barriers Padmé herself had erected to shield herself against further injuries. There had been a lot to learn for all of them.
But now Anakin had regained all of his strength and vigor, all of his confidence. His arrogance had been diminished to a more bearable level. Almost his old self again. She smiled at the very thought, when he would be completely her Anakin again, the young man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. The love was still there, but a few shadows remained, mannerisms that were too reminiscent of his evil alter ego for her to bear or ignore. A few months back, in the aftermath of the war, she had feared that he would never be the same again, not entirely, but now she was almost certain that they could be completely happy together once more.
"Anakin."
"Yes?"
"I want to go to Naboo with you."
"Who says I want to go?" he asked in some amusement.
"You!" She punched her fist in his stomach hard. "You are unbelievable!" Anakin merely grunted. "Let's go. Our hour is running short."
Tomas Piett arrived to the meeting earlier that the rest of the attendees, but he had had nothing left to do inbetween preparing his trip to Chandrila and leaving last instructions for his crew. Strange that he still thought in such terms, even though he had had to exchange a starship's bridge for an office in the forbidding structure that had once been Darth Vader's home on Coruscant. The fortress had been claimed by Security and Intelligence, taking advantage of the extensive facilities and available assets.
Even though the Defense Council, to whom Piett as Chief Military Advisor answered directly, had its headquarters in the former Imperial Palace, he had chosen his new home there. But he had preferred staying with the people he knew, like Page and Jixton. And he missed life on a ship. Right now he envied his friend Lorth Needa immensely.
Having declined a promotion, the Captain was currently leading the Second Fleet on a patrol close to the border to Imperial space. What was left of the pro-Imperial forces had gathered behind that frontier, perhaps going on about their lives peacefully, and maybe just waiting to strike back. Needa was making sure that the young Republic would not be taken by nasty surprises, and Piett sometimes wished that he could be out there with him, instead of stuck on Coruscant.
Now, seated alone at the rounded conference table, he was idly drumming his fingers on the smooth surface, thinking. He had a fair idea of why Mon Mothma had called the meeting, but he was wondering how the others would react, especially the Dark Lord. The president was concerned about the future, and from what they knew, she should be. A fifth of the Imperial Navy had switched sides in the conflict with the Empire, and a few more ships had joined the New Republic each month ever since the war had ended. Still, that left them very vulnerable when it came down to sheer fire-power. Should the remaining Imperial commanders decide to lay their differences and ambitions to rest they could crush the New Republic easily.
Until a few months back the New Republic had had the great advantage of having two brilliant strategists at its disposal to make up for that, but Grand Admiral Thrawn had returned to the Unknown Regions with the Executor and left a huge hole in their defenses. Anakin Skywalker undoubtedly would be up to any threat that might come at the New Republic, but Mon Mothma had made it clear to Piett that she would rather not rely on the former Sith. For publicity reasons, he assumed. Yet the problems on the military level were nothing compared to what was going on politically. The Hutts seemed bent on officially reclaiming the territory they had ruled at the times of the Old Republic. Palpatine might have tolerated them, but he had made it clear that the Empire ruled everywhere. Now planets like Tatooine, Ryloth and Arkadia were beginning to ponder their own future, free of the Empire, free of the Hutts. The New Republic had to decide whether it had an interest in bringing these worlds into their alliance. And a fragile alliance it was.
"Admiral, I should not be surprised to find you already here," a cool voice said from the door. Turning his head slightly he smiled at the newcomer, then rose to welcome her.
"Madam President."
"Please, do remain seated. This is no formal function, just a gathering among old friends and allies."
"Is it that? Really?"
She gave him a sad look. "I regret what I have to do, but there is no other choice. We must begin anew, and some bonds have to be broken before they can strangle us."
Piett's mouth twisted in disapproval. He might understand the necessity of her move, but he was not someone who forgot easily. When he had been promoted to the post of the Grand Admiral's aide and commander of his flagship back in the war, his loyalties had been to the Empire, and its prosperity his goal, but the Dark Lord had had his entire respect, along with Thrawn later on. Both warlords thought beyond the concepts of war, the Sith even more so than the Chiss. Now that the war was over, Piett had been given the chance to work in earnest on the concepts that would make this New Republic what Palpatine's Empire never could be: a haven; peaceful, prospering, with ideals that were just and that would endure over time and over the struggles that would undoubtedly come. Yet he also remembered well how Mon Mothma had treated her allies, how suspicious she had been. Was this her revenge on the Dark Lord?
"Perhaps we need that," he suggested quietly. "Perhaps we need the reminder of what it might cost if we forget what we stand for."
"Someone to watch the government? But who is guarding the watchers? No, Piett, we need to have a little faith. In ourselves and in the will of the people."
"So we put the war behind us and move on to the next topic."
"Nicely said," she answered with a small smile. "And I am sure that you for one will not forget. In contrast to certain other elements I trust that your ego will not lead you to take over command if you think I am steering off course."
"So sure of that? I betrayed the Empire, and yet you trust me?"
Mon Mothma gave him a pained look. "But you did not betray your ideals, Piett. Anakin Skywalker did," she added quietly.
Unfortunately that was all too true. "Are you going to tell him?"
"Not today. I believe that with Master Yoda's death he needs some time to find his own way first. There is no one left to be an example to him, except maybe for his son, and Luke is far too young to be taken seriously, even by his father."
"The princess?"
"I think he admires her, but she is an ideal he does not dare to approach."
Piett gave a soft chuckle. "I guess in that case we should be glad that Lord Kell is gone too. Imagine.
If Lord Skywalker had taken his example..."
"Don't remind me! I am just glad that Chi'in and the others have already left. Now, the meeting starts in five minutes. Any last suggestions?"
"We will be late," Anakin whispered in her ear softly, his warm breath feeling incredibly good on the bare skin of her face. Sighing with regret she snuggled against him, her eyes still closed.
"They can wait a bit longer," she mumbled. He laughed at that, such a rich sound, with so many inflections. Padmé smiled up at him, taking in his scarred features fondly. Blue eyes clear and open, he was watching her, expectation plain in his gaze. How she loved those eyes. Craning her neck, she placed a leisured kiss on his lips. "Say 'please'."
"Please." He frowned down at her. "Padmé we have an appointment to keep, and you would not want to make a bad impression as Senior Analyst, would you?"
"Yes. You are right. Unfortunately." Disengaging from his embrace she rose and straightened her clothes self-consciously. "Let's go."
He got to his feet with a smile and gently pulled a stray strand of dark hair behind her left ear. "There. You look beautiful. As always."
"Perfect," she told him with a teasing grin. "Come on."
Anakin Skywalker could feel a slight tension as he entered the conference room on Padmé's heels. Three sets of eyes swiveled around to look at the couple. Mon Mothma was seated at the head of the table and she wore an earnest expression on her face. At her side Tomas Piett was smiling, but there was some worry in his eyes. The last one waiting was Telmann Page, newly appointed Chief Security Advisor, which was a pretty bland title for the Head of Intelligence, Anakin thought. He nodded at the trio and took a seat at his wife's side.
"Now that we are complete," Mon Mothma began without preamble, "we can start right away. Padmé, I know you haven't had much time to familiarize yourself with your new task, but rest assured that I will help you along. As you know Admiral Piett will be leaving for a few weeks, for personal reasons, and he has prepared a report for us. Admiral?"
Piett straightened abruptly and inserted a datacard into the holorecorder. Immediately the screens in front of each attendee lit up with a set of diagramms that also appeared above the table-top. "This is a comparison of our current military strength with what we assume the Imperial Remnant still has got out there. We can account for three warlords, but we are missing two Grand Admirals." Piett smiled coolly. "While I do not assume they could match Thrawn, each one of them could become more of a nuisance. We have twenty-five Star Destroyers, thirty Mon Calamari cruisers and a hundred corvettes, plus quite a few TIE and X-wing squads. All in all that accumulates to a fifth of the entire Imperial fleet. Our allies, that is those worlds who have supported us and have joined the New Republic's alliance, have their own resources, but few have competent commanders or competent troops. Well, I do not want our navy to settle local disputes while there are so many possible enemies out there, and I have a feeling our allies would not appreciate that either. So we need a program that will turn those 'incompetent' local forces into effective ones."
"Not all of them are incompetent, Admiral," Anakin countered calmly.
"But enough are. The commanders are corrupt and their soldiers half-criminals," Mon Mothma injected. "Admit it, Lord Skywalker, there is a lack of discipline among those local troops, and they might become a danger."
"Agreed. Yet if you do not want to interfere too much with local politics, as you have stated in your acceptance speech for the presidency, as far as I recall, how do you mean to achieve that discipline? Hold seminars?" Padmé smiled at that, as he noted with satisfaction.
"No," Piett replied. "Not seminars. But we have to give the governments a reason to clear up the rubbish. They have to have an interest in their own security."
"That does not answer my question, Admiral."
"No, but it is an outline for the task I am giving the Senior Analyst, your wife." Mon Mothma nodded at Padmé gravely.
"A diplomatic mission? That needs thorough preparation," Padmé mused aloud, sounding pensive.
If Anakin did not know her better he would have thought she was nervous. Indeed, her hands were shaking ever so slightly. What was wrong? Of course. He hid a fond smile. She had not had a task of that magnitude ever since the rise of the Empire had forced her out of her post as senator. Back then she had handled first the affairs of Naboo as their queen and then the affairs of the Republic as senator. But that was a long time ago.
"Yes, very thorough preparation, that is true," Mon Mothma agreed gently, "but I have the greatest faith in your abilities. Admiral Piett suggests you concentrate your department's activities on the remaining Imperial forces, General Page."
The man nodded mutely. But he was watching Anakin expectantly. Undoubtedly he was wondering what the president had in store for her Senior Military Advisor. Well, he was not the only one. Giving Mon Mothma a long, hard look Anakin shifted his attention to Piett again.
"A good take on the current state we find ourselves in, but haven't you forgotten something?"
Piett gave him a faint smile. "What would that be?"
"The Court."
"Only very few members of the Imperial Court managed to get off Coruscant before Thrawn surrendered the planet to us. Some remain, surely, but they do not have any power to speak of," Mon Mothma explained. "I doubt that the warlords would put their lot in with those."
Anakin shrugged. "Nothing is impossible. I for one believe that we need someone to keep an eye on those vipers."
Nodding slowly the president smiled. "That job, Lord Skywalker, is for the Minister of State, and Leia is starting right now, with Corellia."
"I knew it!" Anakin exclaimed before he could catch himself and Padmé burst out laughing, while the rest eyed them wonderingly. Corellia! Anakin felt like laughing. Well, Leia and Han would undoubtedly have a lot of fun there.
She was curled up tightly on the sofa, her eyes fixed on the screen of her datapad, where multiple layers of code were streaming across a sea of black. In the background the sound of someone assaulting a keypad viciously rose over the din of the music drifting in from outside.
"What part are you working on right now?" she asked softly.
Looking up from his datascreen Abla gave her a startled glance that she noticed out of the corner of her eyes. "Section Alpha B. That's the neuronic processor."
"Yes. You are sure that the data will be compatible with that program?"
"Almost, boss. Once we have tested it we will know for sure."
"Of course. Have you started on the other material yet?"
"No. I need a more powerful system to handle both streams at once, and besides, the entire program will need something the size of the Coruscant Mainframe to run."
"I am working on that," she told him with a smile, but then her mood darkened again. "Maybe you should not have modified Anderland's program like this. He's still in tears over the changes you made."
Abla gave her a vicious grin. "Then he should have thought of that beforehand himself."
Shaking her head, Yana Dar hit a key on her keypad and switched channels. She frowned at the latest issue of Coruscant Daily that was flickering across the screen, her mind racing. "He's alive. Had I known I would not have let you slice into Bast Castle."
"I know how to cover my traces, Yana," he answered calmly. "And unless your Dark Lord is suddenly an expert slicer, we have nothing to fear. Not even if he was," Abla added for good measure.
She was not listening any longer. Over the past three days she had felt another death, a great master, by the feel of it, a Jedi Master. The New Republic had not given a public announcement so far, but from what her sources had been able to tell her she could make an educated guess. Well, she had thought that Yoda had perished already ages ago, so his death did not really matter. What mattered though was the other presence that had vanished from the galaxy just hours behind the Jedi Master.
He had flared up suddenly, a few months ago, a black bonfire so powerful it had shocked her to the marrow, before she had been able to confirm that he was not who she feared he was. No official announcement here either, but the New Republic had never acknowledged his existence officially.
Roj Kell, Palpatine's master, with all probability the oldest being that had ever graced this galaxy. His presence had vanished as abruptly as it had reappeared from whatever depths the Emperor had hidden him in. When Yana had learned that he had fallen into the rebels' hands she had started working on a plan to have him brought to her. He could have helped her, and Abla for that matter, immensely. Well, too late for that. On the other hand, that left only Vader to deal with.
"Abla," she began softly, "I think we are ready for operation B."
"What operation B?" he asked, startled. Yana smiled at him.
"Just tell Anderland to come and see me. In private. No need for you to know everything, my dear."
Leia walked into the luxurious flat Han had rented for them in the outskirts of Coronet. It was in a pleasant neighborhood, with gardens and parks sprinkled in between the neat houses and apartment complexes, and the flat itself was tastefully decorated and had a wonderful view over the city's skyline in the distance. They had not spent a lot of time in here over the past days, but what hours they had enjoyed the luxuries of the apartment, Leia remembered with a smile. She caught her own reflection in the tall mirror hanging in the hallway, a short, slender woman with long, chestnut hair falling over her shoulders almost down to her waist, and brown eyes that were far too knowing for her age. Well, she had a demanding job to deal with. Of course, the low-cut dress she wore right now was not really fitting for the New Republic's Minister of State. It had been a present, one of many Han had showered her with since their arrival on Corellia.
She sighed heavily with regret. If Han uncovered anything useful tonight, their vacation would end quite abruptly. Nadra Magrody. Who would have thought? After the disaster at Yavin 4 the man had vanished somewhere, and Leia had secretly hoped that the Emperor would have had him executed for the Death Star's failure. Too much to hope, apparently. What was he doing here now? Corellia was among the first of a long list of systems that were teetering between wanting to become independent and joining the New Republic. And many, many more worlds were given no choice. Father had warned her and Mon Mothma both, that winning a war did not change anything really. It was just the chance to begin anew. The Hutts, for example, were pushing the remaining moffs out of their realm, but they had no intention of joining the Republic. Other worlds had already claimed that they would never surrender to rebels, and self-styled warlords and wanna-be emperors tried to take advantage of the chaos the war had left behind.
It was a sheer impossible task the former rebels had taken onto themselves. Even with the Imperial navy on their side and a mass of worlds and systems joining every day, there was still so much wrong out there. One piece at a time, Mother had advised her, but Leia still burned with the impatience of the idealist she had always been and would always remain. She wanted changes now. Not possible, she knew, but was she not allowed to dream sometimes? Sighing again she walked into the living-room and called up the lights. The war had taken up almost all of her young life, and she had a feeling that this would never end. Not unless she retreated from politics, but that she could not do yet, if ever. Reaching behind her back, she started unbuttoning the dress, but a soft sound made her hesitate.
Just the hint of a noise, but as she continued with the buttons she extended her senses carefully. There. She had not noticed the four presences before, too preoccupied with the almost encounter on Treasure Ship Row. Damn. The past should have taught her to be more cautious. Eyes flickering toward the comm console, she activated it with the help of the Force. The sudden alarm flaring through the strange presences was most satisfying. Using the moment of startled surprise Leia dived behind the sofa and took a deep breath, mentally mapping down the apartment and possible escape routes. Unfortunately a quick check confirmed what she had feared already. There were more people waiting underneath the windows and balcony.
"Your situation is quite hopeless, Your Highness," a sweet female voice told her. Leia did not answer. Where had she left her lightsaber again? In the drawer back in the bedroom. She vowed never to let the weapon get out of her sight again. But she was far from defenseless even without it. Gritting her teeth she rose from her hiding-place slowly, hands raised level with her shoulders. Four people were confronting her, three men and a woman. The woman, black hair done up elaborately, gave her a small smile. "Very reasonable of you to surrender, Princess. You will accompany us now." That sweet voice and beautiful face were vaguely familiar, but Leia could not place her right away.
"Who are you?"
"Ah, you know better than that, don't you." The woman's smile widened. "Here's a proposal: if you do not struggle or try to flee, we will treat you with the utmost respect. If not, well, we have ways to keep you in your place."
The princess nodded slowly. "I suppose I should accept."
"I would strongly advise it, Leia." Waving the three men forward the woman turned away, undoubtedly to signal the rest of her cronies to come out. When the trio reached Leia, she whirled around her own axis and stabbed her right hand into one man's stomach, dropping him to the floor, while her left hand smashed into another's neck hard. It was a matter of seconds, but as long as her attackers outside were confused about what was going on up here she had a chance to surprise them. Vaulting over the sofa's back she evaded the third man's stun bolts easily before she made a grab for the woman to use her as a living shield. But she never made it. Leia hit the floor with a low grunt, her muscles slack. Damn! Composing herself quickly she tried to rid herself of the stun bolt's effects with the Force, but her mind was already slipping into dark oblivion. Before she lost consciousness she called out desperately. Han!
Looking down at the princess' slender figure, Roganda Ismaren smiled. She had not expected the girl to give up easily. "Take her to the ship," she ordered quietly before she left the apartment again. Outside in the hallway Erinin fell in step with her, his one eye studying her with open questioning. But he kept silent. He had been her bodyguard for the past eighteen years, after all, and she would never question his loyalty, even though it was not to her. They made their way to their speeder unmolested, and as they sped through the darkness toward the private port they had left their ship at, Roganda was staring out into the night moodily. Eighteen years. She had been patient, she had been calm. But now her master's death had freed her to carry out the revenge she had had to still over the past. Yet it had festered in her heart, making her life a constant misery. But now Mith'raw'noruodo would pay for his humiliating her, for his rejecting her, for what Palpatine had done to her afterwards.
"Are you feeling well, my lady?" Erinin asked quietly as he drew the speeder onto the port's landing pad.
"Of course," she answered. "Everything is going well."
"His lordship will be pleased."
"I suppose he will be, at that." Roganda exited the speeder swiftly, not sparing one glance for her guard. "Once the princess is on board, you will set course for Nar Shadaa. We have an appointment to keep."
"Yes, my lady."
Storming up the ship's landing ramp, Roganda ignored everyone until she had reached her quarters. Irek was waiting for her, lounging in one of the chairs, his long legs hooked over the armrest. When she entered, he turned his head to look at her and smiled. He rose quickly, an eager expression lighting up his young face. "You are back! Everything went well?"
She patted his shoulder affectionately before she went over to take a seat on the sofa. "Yes."
"Then we have the princess?" Roganda nodded tiredly. After a while Irek walked over and sat down on the floor at her feet. "Mother, something is bothering you, I can feel it. What is wrong?"
"Nothing. I am just tired." Suddenly a thought came to her. "Where is Magrody?"
"The old man wanted to go into the city again," Irek said dismissively. "Don't worry, he' s not alone."
"I dearly hope not!" Roganda shouted impatiently. "He isn't back yet?"
"I don't know."
"Then go and find out, will you? I want to leave this planet tonight. Altara does not want to be openly associated with us, after all." Altara owned the port.
Irek jumped to his feet and nodded curtly. "I'll go," he said and turned away.
"Irek."
"Yes, Mother?"
"I told you time and again to keep an eye on Magrody. Don't be so careless again."
He inclined his head softly. "As you wish." And then he was gone.
Shoulders slumping, Roganda wanted to lie down and cry. She could feel him slipping out of her control ever so slowly, and although she realized that one day he would break free of her, she knew in her heart that he was not ready yet.
Han Solo was leaning against the wall of a nondescript building on the edge of Treasure Ship Row. He had lost sight of his quarry, and all efforts to find him again had yielded nothing. But it had been Magrody for sure. If he was here Leia had to do something about it. For once Han wished he had a mind like hers. What did the man's presence on Corellia imply? That the government had made a different deal already? Perhaps. He hurried over to one of the main boulevards and waved for a taxi.
Leia would need to inform Mon Mothma, that was for sure, he only wished he had more to tell her than that he had lost the man again only an hour after they had spotted him. Well. Maybe he could still convince her that they should delay the inevitable until morning. The taxi deposited him in front of the apartment complex he had selected for his and Leia's vacation. The lights were on inside the living-room and Han smiled. Apparently she was still awake and waiting for him.
He snatched the keycard out of his jacket and unlocked the house's main gate before he took the lift upstairs, his heart light with joy. If they only had tonight left he would not wait any longer. Tonight he would ask her to marry him. It might not be the perfect setting, or the perfect moment, but it would do for him, and hopefully for her too. Whistling under his breath Han opened the door.
"Leia?"
There was no answer. Stepping into the hallway cautiously he unholstered his blaster and held it ready. He walked softly, trying to avoid any noises, but there was still nothing. "Leia!" he hissed, fear lurking at the back of his mind.
The living-room was empty and there were no signs of a struggle. But the comm console was blinking discreetly. Han darted over to activate the recorder. He listened intently to the the short exchange of words between Leia and a strange woman, trying to ignore the rising anxiety. Kidnapped. Leia had been kidnapped! Sinking down on his haunches he hung his head in sorrow. He was too late. Why had he let her go back alone? Pounding the floor with his left hand Han Solo grounded his teeth in frustration.
Well. There was no way he could turn back time, so he would have to do something to make all of this undone again. He nodded to himself determinedly, even though he was ready to cry. No one took Leia from him! No one! He gave the comm a mean stare. Then he rose and made his way to the port, to make a secure call from the Falcon's comm unit.
It was as bad as he had imagined. Sweating blood and water, Han tried to ignore the curses and insults Anakin Skywalker assaulted him with, and instead tried to get a word in. He was given no chance though. Ranting on, the Dark Lord proved very adept at making Han feel like a five-year -old caught with his hands in the entrails of his father's favorite speeder. At the same time Anakin made a supreme effort at soothing his wife, although he did not have much success with that, from what Han could hear. Padmé was in tears, and her sobbing got to Han even more than Anakin's tirade. As if his heart were not already torn to pieces. Suddenly he regretted having let Chewie off the hook so easily. Sure, the Wookiee had a right to go see his mate on Kasshyyk, but he needed him now, for Force's sake!
"Lord Skywalker -"
"- allowed her to run off with such an incompetent, irresponsible smuggler! Solo! I will have your guts for breakfast!"
"Lord Skywalker," Han began anew, but the Dark Lord was not listening.
"-don't have to worry, dear, everything will be all right, you'll see. And, Solo, when I'm finished with that you'll wish your head were still on your shoulders so you could see what I am doing to your-"
"Shut up!" Breathing hard with anger and frustration Han gritted his teeth, but he would be damned if he would let the man rant at him as if everything were his fault. To his great surprise there was silence on the other end. "Now you listen to me for a change! I want her back as much as you do, and I am dying with worry over here, so don't give me those ridiculous threats, your lordship!"
"What do you propose instead, Solo?" The Dark Lord's voice sounded all too calm.
"Get her back."
"How?"
"I have contacts. Contacts outside of the Republic. They might know-"
"Nonsense. They know nothing. Nasdra Magrody is on Corellia? I doubt he's still there. Try to get into the port files. Ask Karrde for help, if you need it. Find out what ships left tonight. Even if they lifted from a private port they must have had notified authorities."
"What if the authorities were bribed?"
"That is your problem, Solo. I cannot leave Coruscant to help you, and with what you've told me I have other things to do than chase down Leia."
Han felt his jaw drop. "What?"
"You heard me correctly. You are on your own in this. Maybe Intelligence can spare someone. The least I can do for you is notify Page. I will have the Liberty recalled. No telling what they are planning."
"Who is 'they'?" the Corellian asked, aghast.
"I have no idea yet, but I will find out, don't you worry. Skywalker out."
When the connection broke, Han felt loneliness and despair crash down over his head. Leia was gone! Damn! Damn, damn, damn! Tears were in his eyes as he struggled to his feet. What was he to do now? Slice into the port files? Hah! Skywalker had as good as admitted that Magrody was with whoever had kidnapped Leia, and that meant Leia wasn't on Corellia any longer. What was going on?
Well, he would need someone who could do the job here on Corellia, and Karrde was the first who came to mind. Rallying himself Han called up the smuggler's code. It took him a while to answer the call.
"Make it quick."
"Still your charming self, Karrde," Han grated. "I need your help."
"What's up?"
"What do you hear, Karrde? What rumors are floating about?"
"Ask Page. I make my deals with him."
"Why so hostile?"
"These aren't good times, Solo."
"Really. I need a good slicer to do a job for me. Someone trustworthy."
"I don't have any slicers under contract right now."
"I don't believe you, Karrde."
"That's your problem."
"Listen, Leia's been kidnapped by I don't know who, and I need someone to check Coronet's port files."
"The princess?" Suddenly Karrde sounded worried. "I didn't lie to you, Solo, but I may know someone who can help you."
"Who?"
"Abla Othana. He works for Yana Dar and he'll cost you, but he is the best. He'll get the job done in no time."
"Where can I find him?"
"Nar Shadaa. And, Solo, you need someone to watch your back there."
"What?"
"The Hutts are restive, Solo. I hear there's a bounty on your head. Something about a debt you have failed to pay to Jabba. The old slug may be dead, but his heirs still want what's his. Know anything about it?"
Han swallowed hard. "I may have an idea."
"Good. Keep your eyes open. See you around."
As Karrde disconnected the call Han was staring off into the distance. Life was never simple, it seemed. He needed someone he could trust, someone who knew the fringe, someone who had the right connections. That left only one choice, really: Lando Calrissian.
Standing next to the comm console he felt completely numb, unable to move, unable to feel anything. He could hear Padmé crying softly, but he could not bring himself to face her grief. Instead he simply stood there, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes fixed into the distance, seeing nothing at all. Words could not soothe her, he knew, nothing would, until Leia was safe again. But what to do? He could not leave Coruscant, as per Mon Mothma's request, that was really an order, but how much he wanted to. He had every faith in his daughter, in her wits, her strength, her spirit. But faith meant nothing there and then.
"Anakin?" Padmé's voice, terribly thin and soft with mourning. "What are we going to do?"
He kept silent, not knowing what to answer. There where no promises he could make to her.
"Ani?"
Force, how long had it been since she had last called him that? It seemed to have happened in another life-time, and in a sense that was even true. He could feel her mounting terror, could feel her mind slip toward naked despair. Shaking his head abruptly Anakin turned around to look at her. She was gazing at him, her eyes wide with hope. It would have been nice if he could have told her that everything would be all right, but that was unrealistic. To hell with reality!
"It will be all right," he said at last, forcing himself to sound confident.
"Liar." She said it fondly, taking the sting out of the word.
"No, not at all. Leia is a very capable woman; she is our daughter, after all." Extending his arms toward her he smiled. "Come here."
Her grateful smile warmed his heart with its sincerity. Rising from her seat she walked over to him. Wrapping her up tightly in his embrace Anakin again felt the strength her love gave him and it amazed him how she always managed to make him feel so special , so very good.
"What is the plan?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled.
"The plan? Let's see. You and I have a lot of assets at our disposal, and we will make good use of those that don't endanger the New Republic. But you must promise me something."
Looking up at him Padmé frowned prettily. "Promise what?"
He smiled at her. "I know you, my love, you are very brave, you don't panic easily. And we won't let anyone or anything get us down. Promise?"
For a few heart-beats there was silence. Then she said. "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know exactly yet. I have to find out what they want first."
"You told Han the same. Who are you talking about?"
"Listen, Padmé, no one kidnaps the Minister of State with no reason. It could just be for ransom, but I doubt it. What is left?"
"I have a suspicion."
"Tell me, then."
"They could try to use her to topple the government, but they should know that it takes more to scare Mon Mothma. The other possibility is to keep you from going for their throats when they move into the open."
"This will be diffuclt ," he announced with a sigh and stopped his pacing to wrap his hands around her head and ruffle her hair gently. "I knew this was too good to last."
"What is it they plan?"
"If I knew... "
"Anakin," she began tentatively.
"What?"
"Promise me -" she took a deep breath. "Promise me that you will not do anything rash. You will do what I say, you will follow where Mon Mothma leads. I do not want to lose you again, all right?"
"Not if I can help it." He sighed wistfully. "I guess this means we can forget about that second honey-moon."
TBC