Two months after he had left Pamylasia, Luke Skywalker returned to face his trial, but in that interval much had changed. While the Jedi Council's pronouncement had initially sparked outrage and disbelief throughout the galaxy, in time it prompted many people to ask questions about who exactly was behind Akeeno's murder. Attention slowly shifted away from Luke's guilt to this deeper mystery, and with the shift came finally a public show of support. Whereas before the examination only a handful of people had expressed any public support for Luke at all, after the trial Luke's people again returned to their hero. Donations began to pour into the Jedi Academy, including several extremely generous gifts, enabling Luke to breathe a sigh of relief. His lawyers' fees were rapidly emptying Leia's bank account, and while she was more than willing to go bankrupt on her brother's behalf, Luke hated to see any more lives ruined because of him. Anath had come to him and privately offered the use of funds from the Jedi's reserves, but Luke refused, pointing out that such a move would set a dangerous precedent which might compromise the Jedi's integrity. Several of his lawyers had quietly agreed to charge far below their normal rate, but despite their generosity the fees ran high, and with a trial that could last months, the final cost would be higher still.
Furthermore, Luke encountered the same problem of securing housing on Pamylasia as he had before. No one wanted Akeeno's murderer as a tenant. After much searching, a place was found shortly before Luke was scheduled to return. Located in Endirion, it was a large estate that used to belong to one of the Barons. It had been confiscated by the government, which agreed to rent it to Luke and his entourage, including his phalanx of lawyers; ten Republic Security Guards, four of whom were Jedi in disguise sent to protect Luke from any assassination attempts; Anath Pipir, formally representing the Jedi; Han, Chewbacca, C-3PO and R2-D2, who considered themselves to be Luke's most capable bodyguards; and finally Mara and Luke himself.
As much as Leia wanted to be with her brother, she could not abandon her duties as President of the Republic. She had briefly considered stepping down from her position, and indeed a few voices in the Senate called for her to do so, but such a move would not help Luke. Instead it was decided that she would join the family on Pamylasia when the closing arguments would be made and remain with them until the verdict was announced. In the meantime, she would call them every single day, adding not insignificantly to the mounting expenses.
The ones who protested most strongly at being left behind were Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin. As much as the family tried to shield them from the comments and diatribes of the press, the children knew full well that Luke not only faced a verdict of guilty, but could very likely receive the death sentence. They were terrified of losing their uncle and were inconsolable at being apart form him during what they feared might be his final days. The children's anguish only added to the grief everyone felt, and in the end the children were almost granted their wish. But Luke finally pointed out to them that even if they accompanied him to Pamylasia, they would not be able to spend much time with him as he would be at the trial all day and conferring with the lawyers much of the rest of the time. Even so, they were not convinced until Luke charged them to stay and take care of their mother, who would be unable to be with him. This appeal on Leia's behalf finally won the day, but it did not make the farewell any easier.
Following a brief respite after the Jedi examination, most of Luke's time was spent with the lawyers. As much free time as he had was spent with his family and his fellow Jedi. On his departure from Coruscant, the Jedi presented him with a special book. Every single one of them had written up the story of how they had first met Luke. It seemed to them an appropriate way to remind Luke who he was and to keep his spirits up. Luke would read it many times during the coming months. As for the children, they began writing letters to Luke before he had even left home.
When Luke and his entourage arrived on Pamylasia to take up residence in their new home, they found a different Pamylasia than the one they had left before. Hatred for Luke still prevailed, but it was less intense, distracted as they were by the coming election, in which Radu Akeeno and Amil Aajulon were the lead contenders, and by the question of who had been behind Akeeno's murder. Most people still held Luke responsible for his role, but they now wanted all the guilty parties to be identified and brought to justice.
Finally, Luke himself had changed. Following the judgment of the Council, he had spent long hours in meditation on his actions. He had begun to see how his actions did indeed reflect a morality and ethic which could be discerned throughout his life. He recognized that his reasons might not be held as legitimate by the rest of the galaxy, or more importantly the Pamylasian court, and he accepted whatever verdict they might render, or so he told himself. In the past two months he had made peace with himself, he had made peace with Mara, and now he planned to do what he could to make peace with those he had most wronged, the people of Pamylasia. He knew full well that any apology or attempt at reconciliation he might make would likely be rebuffed by the Pamylasians, and he felt he deserved no less. But his conscience demanded he make the offer. He would begin by visiting Dimishaneer Akeeno's grave, but to do that he would have to seek permission from Akeeno's widower.
He wrote a carefully crafted letter in which he declared his longstanding admiration for Akeeno and his desire to pay his respects. He and Mara both requested permission to visit Akeeno's grave. It would not be a publicity stunt. They desired no press to be present and preferred to keep their visit a secret. They were even willing to visit in the middle of the night if necessary. They simply wanted to honor a good woman who had died a martyr to freedom.
For several days Luke heard nothing. Then at last a reply came in the form of a letter from Radu Akeeno himself:
Sir,
I received your letter with great surprise, and have spent some time considering your request. You must understand that the situation is highly unconventional, and I am skeptical of your motives. I have in fact many reservations about what such a visit might mean for my people, for you, and for myself. I therefore cannot grant you permission to visit my wife's grave at this time, as the matter requires further consideration.
I have therefore decided to discuss this matter with you personally. My secretary will arrange a time at your convenience.
Antiradu Akeeno
Chapter Twenty-three: On the Trail
"There's no place like home," Talon Karrde sighed as he and Shada walked down the street of Hyllyard City.
"I beg your pardon?" Shada queried.
"I used to live here. Not in Hyllyard City: I had a base in the forest. My main audience room was built around an enormous tree. It gave the base a rather mythic quality I quite enjoyed."
Shada squinted, looking around the square in mild disgust, and simultaneously noting where their crew had stationed themselves discreetly nearby. "It doesn't look like much," she pronounced.
"Naturally, it's gone downhill since I left."
Looking askance at him, Shada asked, "Should we be concerned about the possibility you might be recognized?"
"Oh, that was quite a long time ago. Besides," he gestured to his hair, "with my hair dyed this lovely shade of green, my own mother wouldn't recognize me. Thank the stars it washes out."
Shada smirked, then glanced up the street. "We're coming up on the place, and everyone is positioned."
"Thank you," Karrde returned, and with the next step they assumed the roles they would play in the impending drama.
When they reached their destination, a rather shoddy looking pawn shop, Karrde graciously held the door for Shada, then followed her into the cool, darkened building. Shada heaved a long-suffering sigh and rubbed her forehead with one hand. Stepping past her, Karrde approached a rather burly Mendian standing behind the counter. "Good day, my friend," he greeted cordially. "I have an appointment with the proprietor. Is he in?"
The Mendian looked them over with bloodshot eyes. "Name?" he grunted.
"Van Lees."
The Mendian cast a baleful look at Shada, who stood wearily blinking in the dim light, then unfolded his triple-jointed limbs and lumbered off through a curtained doorway. Within moments he returned and gestured an opposable digit with a rather wicked-looking claw over his shoulder through the curtain before resuming his seat behind the counter.
Nodding in acknowledgement, Karrde seized Shada's elbow and led her ungracefully around the counter and through the curtain, where they found themselves in an even darker room. A dark shape, possibly human, approached them and growled, "No weapons," and held out his hand.
"Of course not," Karrde agreed, divesting himself of two blasters, a stinger, and a vibroblade, which the guard locked in a box.
Gesturing at Shada, the guard asked, "What about her?"
"She's a biologist," Karrde said, with a note of disdain in his voice. "She's armed only with field notes."
The guard shrugged and raised a handheld scanner in front of Shada, muttering, "You're gonna let her write your life story?" He passed the scanner over her body, and found nothing. When he swept Karrde, the scanner emitted a warning buzz as it passed Karrde's left forearm.
"Sorry, I forgot about that one," Karrde apologized as he pulled a tiny blaster from its concealed holster under his sleeve.
"Whatever," the guard sneered as he locked it away. When he was satisfied they were unarmed, he gestured for them to follow him. They passed through a narrow corridor stacked high with boxes and loose equipment which kept tripping Shada up. When Karrde reprimanded her for her clumsiness, she slurred, "Then why don't they turn on the light?"
"If you break anything, you pay for it," the guard warned.
The epithet with which Shada greeted this information was so colorful and unexpected Karrde almost laughed out loud.
The guard came to an abrupt stop and opened a door. He gestured them in, and they found themselves in a rather gaudily decorated office. Behind a desk that was far too large sat a Rodian, flanked by another Mendian and a rather moth-eaten Wookiee.
"The things one has to go through to meet with you, Beppo," Karrde dryly observed.
The Rodian rose, his nose twitching. "I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Lees," he answered in sibilant Basic, "but such caution is what keeps me in business. Please, take a seat."
Karrde graciously lowered himself into a pink-furred chair, while Shada plopped unsteadily into its mate.
Nodding at Shada, Beppo asked, "And who is this?"
"Dr. Newson Cray," Karrde introduced. "She is a biologist and will... attend to the merchandise. I must apologize for her. She is a little deep into her cups."
"Hey," Shada protested, "I deliberately went easy last night in honor of the occasion." Karrde raised his eyebrows in skepticism, and she asserted, "I am not drunk."
With a deep sigh of frustration, Karrde returned his attention to Beppo. "I wonder if you might ask your associates to step outside?" he queried, gesturing at the guards.
"I assure you, Mr. Lees, they are entirely trustworthy."
"Of course they are," Karrde readily agreed, "but my employer insisted that this business be discussed in the strictest confidence, otherwise there will be no deal."
Beppo hesitated, then raised his hand to his associates in dismissal. They silently glided out of the room. "Are you satisfied?"
"This is ridiculous," Shada grumbled, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand, the signal that the room contained no surveillance equipment.
Karrde nodded, "I'm quite satisfied. Now, let us get down to business."
"How many ysalamiri is your employer interested in?" Beppo asked.
"Only the ones you have recently sold."
The Rodian's snout twitched in confusion. "What?"
Karrde leaned forward, elbows resting on the pink armrests of his chair. "I want to know to whom you have recently sold ysalamiri."
Shaking his head, Beppo replied, "I'm sorry, my client list is confidential."
"I understand that, but I need you to make an exception."
Beppo's snout was working overtime as his suspicion grew. "I'm not interested in this kind of deal."
"I think you will be," Karrde intoned.
Shada sprang from her chair and leapt over the desk with an agility and speed that would make the Noghri look inept. With her left hand she plucked Beppo's hand away from the panic button he had been about to push, and with her right she pressed to his neck a stiletto that had been concealed as one of her hairpins.
The Rodian's complexion turned the shade of cold pea soup. "What is this?" he stammered.
"I know this is rather abrupt," Karrde apologized, "but I only want a name. If you prefer, I'll even give you a list, and you have merely to inform me if you have dealt with any of them in the past six months. I think you'll like my terms."
Beppo cringed as Shada's stiletto bit into his neck. "I'll demand a high price for that information."
"Oh, I'll pay you in something better than credits," Karrde assured him. "You see, we have a mutual acquaintance, Nalla the Hutt."
At the name, Beppo jumped, causing the stiletto to prick his skin and draw a drop of purple blood.
"Yes," Karrde said. "It seems a certain Rodian named Teem owes her an enormous sum of money, so much so that she was forced to put a bounty on his head. Naturally that drove him underground, and he even took on a new name. But as a favor to me, she offered to cancel the debt if you cooperate with me."
The Rodian's ears began to tremble as Shada gazed at him with eyes as sharp as the blade pressed against his neck. "How do I know she will really cancel the debt?"
Karrde reached into his vest and brought out an envelope which he placed on Beppo's desk. "I have the document canceling your debt right here. It lacks only my signature to make legal. My name, by the way, is Captain Talon Karrde."
If it was possible for the Rodian's eyes to widen in shock, they would have. As it was they nearly bulged from his skull. "Talon Karrde?!" he shrieked. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"
"Because you would have tried to kill me, and I do so hate when that happens."
"I would never have tried to kill you, and I must say I find your offer quite generous."
"I'm glad you think so. Shall we review the list then?"
Shada took up position behind Beppo, her blade never far from his neck, as Karrde reviewed the list.
"The Eriadu Brigands!" Beppo squeaked when he saw the name. "Yes, I dealt with them not four months ago!"
"Any others?" Karrde asked coolly.
Scanning the list, Beppo pronounced, "No, just them."
"I'll need proof, of course."
"Yes, certainly, I have the records in my computer if your, er, assistant will let me call it up." Shada gestured with the stiletto, and Beppo swiveled in his chair to the computer recessed into the wall behind him. His suction cup tipped fingers tapped adroitly on the keys, and within moments the screen displayed a record of fifteen ysalamiri having been sold to Janus Binga, one of the crew of the Eriadu Brigands.
If I'd known it would be this easy... Karrde mused to himself, despite the fact that his natural attention to detail meant he would have been just as cautious and thorough in his setup. "I appreciate your cooperation. And of course this matter will stay between us. Now, if you'll give me a pen I will sign the document releasing you of your debts, and all that remains will be for you to accompany us out into the street on the arm of my lovely assistant here, and we may consider our deal closed."
Beppo watched hungrily as Karrde signed the document, and he immediately snatched it to his chest. "I must say it is a pleasure doing business with you, Captain."
Chapter Twenty-four: Husbands and Wives
A special car was sent to pick up Luke and two of his bodyguards, cloaked heavily to conceal their identity, to bring them to his meeting with Antiradu Akeeno at the Presidential Palace. They entered the compound secretly through a service entrance, where Luke and guards were met and escorted through the maze of hallways that made up the residential and business sections of the massive building which housed the presidential and vice presidential families, as well as officing them and countless other government employees.
So intent was Luke on his impending meeting with Dimi's widower that he did not recognize where he was being led until he was in the hallway of the Presidential suite. Luke froze when he recognized the doorway, guarded once again by two Noghri who regarded him impassively. He locked his knees to keep from falling as sweat broke out over his entire body. One of his escorts turned to look at him, a cold light in his eyes. "The President's widower is waiting for you," he intoned.
Luke licked his parched lips as the panic he had not felt since returning to Coruscant once again threatened to overwhelm him. This could not be happening. "Does it have to be there?" he whispered.
"Do you refuse to meet with Radu?" the escort challenged.
Numbly Luke shook his head. He forced his legs to move again, each step taking him back in time, closer to that awful night.
The surly escort rapped twice on the door before opening it. "Just you," he muttered to Luke. "Your guards will wait out here."
Taking a deep breath which failed to steady him, Luke stepped into the room and into the maelstrom of sensations which it unleashed in him: the scent of the Noghri guards' flesh as Luke's saber burned into them, the stealthy silence of the night as he crept into the room, the perspiration trickling down his forehead and stinging his eyes, the steel cold taste of fear in his mouth. But the room itself had been dark. He had no memory of what the room had looked like then. Instead, it presented itself to his vision now, a picture of tranquil harmony and balance, with its simple but elegant furniture interspersed with samples of folk art and indigenous pride. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with weathered, well-read tomes, companions during Dimi's long years of exile. It was not the room of a president or a hero, but of an elder woman with simple tastes and a lively mind, a room arranged equally well for private study or for intimate conversation. A room in which one felt at home.
"Welcome," a voice said, startling Luke out of himself. It was more of a challenge than a greeting. Luke looked over to where Antiradu Akeeno stood at a window, his body half facing Luke, as if he had just turned from watching something outside. "Make yourself comfortable," he offered, again in a bitter tone. "After all, you've been here before."
Luke felt his legs start to give way again, and he stumbled into the nearest chair in order to keep from collapsing. He clasped his trembling hands between his knees.
Radu walked slowly toward him. "I'm sorry my wife couldn't be here to meet you. She so admired you, held you in very high esteem." He stopped directly in front of Luke, hands held behind his back, his face expressionless. "And now you want to pay your respects. It's a little late for that, don't you think?"
Luke bowed his head, tears squeezing out of the corners of his eyes. He did not answer. He could not.
"Why," Radu mused, half to himself, "do you want to visit my wife's grave, when it is you who sent her there?"
Luke could not look up, could not face this man whom he had so deeply wrong. "I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly, aware of how petty it sounded, and yet unable to say anything else.
"You're sorry," Radu echoed slowly, "to have murdered my wife as she lay sleeping next to me in our bed." The words accused, but the voice was merely pensive. Radu studied the shattered man before him. Like everyone else, he had been amazed to learn the famed Jedi Master was his wife's assassin. He had been amazed to receive the Jedi's request to visit Dimi's grave, and he was amazed that the man sat before him now, weeping so openly, not concealing -- what? His guilt? His grief? Luke Skywalker's motivations were an enigma to him, and Radu wanted to understand what had brought them both to this place.
He repeated his earlier question, but in a more neutral tone. "Why do you want to visit Dimi's grave? What purpose would it serve?"
The change in inflection was not lost on Luke. He swallowed his tears and collected himself as best he could. He knew anything he said was likely to sound hollow and self-serving, like an attempt to justify the unjustifiable, but he could only speak the truth. "I admired her," he professed. "She was a hero of mine. I always wanted to meet her."
Radu accepted this unlikely accolade. His eyes searched Luke's face, although the younger man refused to look at him. "Then why did you kill her?"
At last Luke looked up, and Radu saw his own grief reflected in those depthless eyes. "Because they would have killed my wife."
Radu's heart grew cold in his chest. "And so you killed mine. You made me a widower to keep yourself from becoming one." He tilted his head to one side. "Does that not strike you as ironic?"
"Yes," Luke answered, and Radu knew he spoke truth.
"What if I had killed you to prevent Dimi's death? Or killed your own wife in a similar bargain?"
"You would have been justified."
"Are you saying you were justified?"
Luke's jaw clenched, and he dropped his gaze. "I did the only thing I could," he said softly.
"And what you could do," Radu finished, "was kill my wife."
Luke did not reply, for indeed the answer was obvious.
Radu's grief surged through his body, and to relieve the tension so he would not break down in front of Skywalker, he stood and walked slowly around the room. He paused in front of a photograph hanging on the wall, a well-known press photo of his wife on the day she was released from prison, her clenched fist held high in triumph. He ran his finger over the cold glass that separated him from the image. It was a familiar sensation, the only way he had been able to touch his wife for twenty years.
"How can a marriage survives so long," he mused out loud, "when the partners are separated by so great a chasm? We were permitted visits every six months, but because of complications and harassment, I only saw her fourteen times in all those years. Thirty minutes at a time, seven hours total. In nineteen years." He stroked his wife's image through the glass, speaking to her as much as to Luke. "We were allowed to exchange letters once every three months. The prison censors didn't leave much to be read. They used to black out the sentences before they realized that we could soak the ink off and read what was underneath. After that they used scissors. It didn't matter that we wrote on both sides of the page. Reading those letters was like trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle with three-fourths of the pieces missing.
"Never once in all those years was I able to touch her, to kiss her, to hold her hand. In some ways nothing has really changed. All my life I have been married to a woman who was not there. What kind of a marriage is that?"
His voice trailed off, and he turned, resting his back against the wall, his head next to Dimi's picture as he stared past Luke. "I was wed to her spirit, a spirit that is so strong, so vibrant, that it possesses my body and shapes my life. Even now I cannot separate her thoughts from mine in my head. When I speak, it is her voice I hear. My skin gives off her scent, and when I listen to my own heartbeat, I hear it echo hers." His eyes sought out Luke's. "I love her," he asserted. His voice was quiet, but with an undercurrent of passion that caused Luke's bones to vibrate with its resonance. "To be physically separated from her is like losing one of my own limbs, and yet she is nearer to me than my own breath. That is where you have left me. That is the state to which you have returned me. Only before at least I could hope that one day we might be united. That is the hope you have forever taken from me."
Luke remained silent, letting Radu's words, his emotions, wash over him and through him. He did not flinch from it but drank it in, in all its sweet bitterness. He recognized this grief. He saw it in Mara's eyes whenever he caught her at an unguarded moment, the haunted expression that said, I will lose the one I love.
"And what of your wife," Radu inquired, echoing Luke's thoughts, "who you saved at the price of mine?" He moved to the chair across from Luke and seated himself so they were face to face. "My wife died so that yours might live. Tell me, what did her death buy?" Again, the words reproved, but the voice was gentle and curious.
"Mara," Luke breathed, and he could not help but smile. The sound of her name was like balm on his wounded soul. "When she first met me, she hated me, but only because I was her Master's enemy." Luke hesitated. He still did not know how to put his feelings for Mara into words. The relationship was still too new. "When I first met her, I was somehow given a vision into her soul. She was a being so different for me, so apart for me, and yet we were bound together in a way I could not deny any more than I could explain. The challenge she offered me felt like the missing key to my life, a key to unlock something I didn't even know was in me.
"We, too, were separated by prison, but one of our own building. In denying each other, we denied ourselves. For ten years we remained in hiding. Then I had a vision in which she appeared dead. All I knew, without understanding, was that if she died, something inside me would remain undiscovered forever. I couldn't live without finding out what she would find in me."
Radu nodded in understanding. "And what did she find?"
The truth burst upon Luke for the first time, and he spoke with an intense longing that only orphans know. "Home," he professed in helpless wonder. "Family. My own family." His heart split open, and pure happiness spilled out to flood his soul. No matter what happened now, he knew he would be all right. His face radiant, he proclaimed, "At last I know what it means to belong to someone."
Radu watched him, as the younger man surrendered himself to this love, a love Radu recognized well. "Yes," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Yes, I know."
Luke shook once, then buried his face in his hands as intense emotion coursed through him. He rode the wave as it crested and slowly subsided, leaving him as trembling and eager as a newborn. He felt a blissful agony, to have discovered his life just when he might lose it.
Radu stood and once again slowly circled the room, as if through mindful walking he could find the path he needed to take. Or perhaps mindfulness would make this path worth walking, for he could not choose the path he was on.
He stopped at the window so he could look out across the green lawn to the bustling city beyond, a city full of hopes and fears, awaiting a promise yet to be fulfilled. A promise that he vowed would yet be fulfilled.
Without turning he said, "You may visit her grave, both you and your wife. I hope you find there what you're looking for."
Stunned, Luke stammered, "Thank you."
Cutting him off with a wave of his hand, Radu said, "You may go now."
Luke took a moment to collect himself. It seemed he should say something, but he could think of nothing appropriate. Radu was offering him a gift he had no right to expect, and hardly felt he had the right to accept. His heart twitched inside his chest in the first pangs of healing. Gratefully, he accepted the boon, then he stood and turned to the door.
Just before Luke exited the room, Radu called to him, "And take fernassi blossoms. They were her favorite."