Chapter 6:
From Out of the Icy Darkness
It was about an hour before daybreak when Lyscithea found her mother in her bathroom, being ill. "Mom, listen, you're going to have to take this stuff," Lyscithea told her, reaching for the bottle of sedatives that sat beside her sink.
"No, Scythi, I don't want to be out of it when they start the decarbonization." Typhani insisted. "I'll be all right. I'm just nervous, that's all." Lyscithea just shook her head, and tucked the small bottle of medicine into her robe pocket for later transfer to her purse.
Everyone got dressed in near silence. Daala watched with intense interest as Lyjéa brushed her own hair into place, put on her make-up, and selected and put on her jewelry from a travel case she carried.
"She's watching every move you make," Lyscithea whispered to her sister as she reached for her overcoat that the servant droid had laid out for her.
"Well," Lyjéa replied, reaching for her own coat, "I doubt she's ever met a blind person before. She's probably just curious," she suggested, adjusting her hat.
"Where's your mother?" Morgana asked.
Lyscithea hesitated as she pulled on her black leather gloves. She said nothing as she walked down the hall toward her mother's suite. The others stood pensively, waiting. Typhani looked weak and pale. Daala and Lyscithea helped her with her cape and scarf. "We'd better be on our way," Typhani said to the four others. "They want to meet with us before they start."
Typhani and her entourage were escorted into a large and comfortable waiting room that had been converted into a luxurious lounge for them, its door flanked by guards. "I've been here before," Typhani thought uneasily. A young woman about Lyscithea's age with shoulder-length, curly, dark- blonde hair and hazel eyes came in to meet with them as they piled all of their wraps onto one chair. She sat down in a chair across from the five of them, resting a clipboard thick with paperwork and a medical datapad on her knees. Daala and Lyscithea scrutinized her the most; Daala would serve as the de facto security officer for the group.
"Hello, everyone," the young doctor addressed them, "My name is Tierra Keldwyyn. I'm from Eriadu, and I'll be your daytime liaison for the duration. Um, we just found out this morning who we would be working with-- pretty exciting! Now I know what all those security checks were about. So, let me tell you a little bit about what I'll be doing. We decided to have liaisons for you because there will be so many people and droids around that we felt it would be better if you had one person you could go to who would know, at least in general, what's going on. As I said, I'm on the day shift. Rohmm Cydras, you'll meet him later, he's on the night shift, and Nortia Yeaant will switch out with us on our off shifts. It'll be a couple of days before you meet her," Tierra began to explain. Daala and Lyjéa wished they had brought their mobile computers. "First of all," Tierra continued, "I need to know who's who. Lady Tarkin, of course I know you, now which one is the sister?"
"I'm Morgana," she acknowledged herself. "and my brother is very special to me. I have only one left. Please be careful."
"Of course we will," Tierra assured her. "And the daughters," she continued, pointing to each of them with the stylus from her datapad, "let's see, you're Lyscithea, and you're Lyjéa."
"Got it!" Lyscithea confirmed.
"I can't see you," Lyjéa told her, "and so I will need you to acknowledge yourself to me until I learn your voiceprint."
"Yes, of course," Tierra acknowledged, and made a note on her clipboard. "And someone said there was a--one note says 'friend of the family,' another note says 'military advisor,'" Tierra continued, pointing her stylus at Daala.
"Yes. I'm Daala. And, I'm a little of both."
"Oh!" Tierra exclaimed, wide eyed. "You're the lady Admiral!"
"Not anymore," Daala muttered. "I wasn't very good at it."
"Oh, nonsense!" Tierra continued, waving a hand at her. "You were fantastic! We really hate Rebel scum around here."
"So do we!" Lyscithea affirmed.
But then a strange expression crept across Tierra's face, one that told Typhani she had heard the rumors. She indicatively reached over and took Daala's hand. The young doctor nodded slightly in acknowledgment tinged with confusion. She didn't dare ask.
Tierra continued on a more serious note. "Okay, the first thing I need to let you know is that we might not decarbonize until tomorrow. We're still running some scans to make sure we know exactly what we're up against."
Typhani emitted a small squeak, and her head sank into her hand, her elbow resting on the arm of the chair in which she sat. "Not another night!" she thought. "It's been so long, and I can't take another night alone!"
Morgana put an arm around her. "We don't want them to rush," she said.
"I know, I know. It's all right," Typhani said weakly.
Tierra continued when Typhani looked back at her. "Next, we just want to make sure that you understand that what is about to happen is not like what happens in the holovids. He's not just going to wake up and immediately know everybody and remember everything and walk out of here tomorrow. Now the good news is that he won't have nearly as bad a time with what we call 'memory rush.' Are any of you familiar with that?" Only Daala nodded, and so Tierra continued. "When someone comes out of carbonite encapsulation and the brain turns itself back on," she continued to explain, "there's a similar effect to bringing up a computer. You know that when you boot a computer after it has been shut down, all of the information in the computer immediately becomes available to you again. The memory works the same way after carbonite encapsulation. Once the brain reactivates, a person's memories tend to flood back all at once, and this can cause extreme confusion and even some psychological problems in certain people. But because his perceptions will already be slowed down due to the other head injuries, it won't be as bad, and he should be able to handle it just fine. Nonetheless, we'll keep a close eye on him for this type of stress during the first forty-eight hours.
"After that, and once were sure he's stable, then we'll establish lines and start with the neurobooster and the cell regeneration formula. But you all need to understand that it may be several days to a week or more before he's aware of anything at all, and that awareness will come very, very gradually. Any questions?"
Nothing, but Typhani leaned her head on Morgana's shoulder.
"All right, then. I'll keep you updated, and let you know in the event they do decide to decarbonize later today. My post is behind the nurse's station, and you can reach me with that comlink," Tierra explained, indicating the comlink on the table in the corner of the room. "Please don't hesitate let me know if any of you have any questions or concerns or if you need anything" With that, she left the five women to their own concerns.
"I was worried about the memory rush," Daala commented as the door closed behind Tierra. "I've known people who went crazy from it, and the older you are, the worse it is. I certainly wouldn't want fifty-six years crammed into a few hours. He's lucky on that one."
"I suppose we have to be thankful for every little benefit that comes our way right now," Morgana observed.
Several hours passed with no word. Typhani finally dozed a bit, leaning on Morgana. Daala read magazines as Lyjéa graded some student assignments and dictated some lesson plans for her sub. Lyscithea had left for awhile to call Kormath and speak to her children, but she had returned and dozed on the sofa opposite her mother. Then the door opened, and Typhani and Morgana both looked up with delight and a sense of relief, as if someone had walked into the room who would somehow make everything all right.
"Gilad!" Morgana acknowledged. "It's good of you to come!" She rose to greet him. Daala was also very surprised to see him, but even more surprised at the familiarity between him and Morgana, as they engaged in a friendly hug, but a hug nonetheless.
Daala was also taken somewhat aback by his appearance, now extremely thin, and very old, now eighty-three, though he looked even older. The last time Daala had seen him in person was when they parted ways upon her resignation/retirement after the loss of the Super Star Destroyer Knight Hammer during a battle in the Yavin system about twelve years previous.
He and Morgana seemed to look deep into each other's eyes for a long moment, holding each other at the arms. Then, he looked down at Typhani.
"Have they started yet?" he asked.
Typhani was resting her chin on the back of her left hand, and she just shook her head. Then he noticed Daala as he and Morgana finally let go of each other. He assumed a seat next to her. Paleb Viorska had told him that she would be among "The Emperor's Own," as they had code-named the group, but he was a bit surprised--no, impressed--that Typhani had actually pulled it off.
"Hello, Admiral," he greeted her, never in his heart accepting her resignation, although he was compelled to do so officially. "It's good to see you here."
Daala folded her hands in her lap. "We've had this discussion, Admiral Pellaeon," she reminded him.
"Oh, come now! Your Emperor will be giving you a new assignment soon," he said.
"We shall see," she said softly.
It hurt him to see her like that. True, he had seen her battered and shaken from her narrow escape from the Knight Hammer, but, despite the fact that she was weak and nearly dehydrated from several days of floating in space in an escape pod, she maintained her customary military stance and remained ready to accept whatever command he gave her as soon as she recovered from the ordeal. Now, though, she was obviously broken, beaten down, burned out. Of course, he understood why, but in his opinion of her, she didn't deserve to be in this state of mind.
It could be worse, though, he reminded himself. Although she had responded sporadically to some of his holonet requests for tactical information over the past few years, getting Daala off of Pedducis Chorios since the peace accord had been next to impossible. He knew. He had tried. In hindsight, though, he was thankful that he had not succeeded. Daala had been through enough, he reasoned, and, considering the present circumstances, she had needed the rest and the opportunity to rebuild her strength and regain her confidence.
Almost eight years had transpired since the last great rage of battles between the Imperial Remnants and the New Republic. The Rebels had recently been shaken by the election of a number of former Imperial leaders to their ranks, a bombing of their Senate chambers, and a takeover threat from one rogue Kueller, but, as usual, they had survived. In one last effort, Pellaeon recalled, he, Viorska, and some other Imperial Remnant leaders in the Core Worlds had attempted to kick the Rebels in the gut while they were down.
Once again stirred to action by her former mentor's dedication to the Empire and doctrine of "never give up," Daala had experienced a brief change of heart, partly in response to Pellaeon's own question of whether Adrian would have given up after the loss of the Death Star had he escaped uninjured. For his rhetorical question, Pellaeon had almost gotten Daala killed. She had journeyed to the Core Worlds in another attempt to unite the newly-risen warlords there, and to assist in their stab against the Rebels. However, the battles and the rancor between the combatants that ensued had been ruinous for the Imperial Remnants, and they lost their strongholds in the Core Worlds altogether. The Rebels were prepared to strike out with rancid vengeance at all that had happened to them. At the climax of the final battle, Rebel General Garn Bel Iblis had attempted to intercept Daala's flagship and capture her by having two of his ships close in on her on each side. Characteristic of her escape from the Maw, she ran full-force into one of Bel Iblis' ships, obliterating it--but badly damaging her own and almost ending up in the very situation Adrian currently found himself, nursing several broken ribs, a dislocated vertebrae, and a massive concussion that had actually left her with a hairline skull fracture. These blows came in addition to the psychological realization that two members of her bridge crew had literally thrown themselves on top of her, partially shielding her from the impact and saving her life. Once they were safe in hyperspace, Daala pulled herself from beneath the two bloodied corpses and crawled into a nearby corner in a daze, hoping that she would die before the remaining members her crew found her, or that they would finish her off when they did, feeling she deserved no less considering her record of repeated, and repeatedly devastating, defeats. She only vaguely remembered being taken down to sick bay.
She limped home, again, and, after recovering from her injuries, turned her attention back to the business of what remained of her colony, rarely even leaving her house for months. That's when Pellaeon heard a most deadly rumor. Daala had once annihilated a colony of Rebels--a colony about the size of her own--on Dantooine shortly after she emerged from the Maw. In the face of escalated hostilities, one of his top commanders alerted him of some intelligence that a Rebel faction was planning to hit Daala's colony in retaliation. Since the loss of the Knight Hammer, Pellaeon had come to view himself as Daala's protector in the absence of his close associate, Wilhuff Tarkin. Once again, her connection to Tarkin proved to be her salvation. Recalling the Tallaan Shipyards shuttle crash story circulated after the destruction of the first Death Star, Pellaeon issued an official death notice for Daala, without her knowledge, claiming that she had indeed been lost in the maneuver against Bel Iblis. He knew that it was Daala the Rebels wanted, speculating correctly that they would leave the colony alone if they thought she was out of the picture, and so he sought to distract them long enough until things settled down. Fortunately, it worked. The Rebel faction directed its wrath elsewhere, and life on Pedducis Chorios had continued as normal. The Rebels didn't discover the truth until just after the peace accord, and to take Daala and her colony at that point would have been a blatant and direct violation of it.
Pellaeon moved across the room then to speak to Typhani. "Are you all right?" he asked kindly.
"I just want him back," she whispered.
"I know," he said, "We all do, but certainly not as much as you."
Then he noticed the sisters. "Ah, Lyjéa, and little Scythi, not so little anymore," he acknowledged them. "I remember when you two used to skate through my ready room, and now you run one of the largest companies in the Outer Rim and you teach tech writing to half the galaxy! Scythi, how are those boys?"
"They're wonderful, thank you, Admiral," Lyscithea told him with a soft smile.
He couldn't stay long, as there was an important Council meeting the next day. In parting, he assured them that he would be kept abreast of the progress. "I just want you all to know that although I can't be here with you in person during this time, I am here with you in spirit," he said genuinely as he rose to leave.
But then he turned back abruptly, but deliberately, and looked directly at Daala. "Admiral!" he said, with a stiff Imperial salute.
Weakly and half-heartedly, she returned his gesture, then looked away, letting her hand drop back into her lap with a thud. "Oh, Pellaeon . . . " she ventured, almost under her breath.
Morgana leaned close to Typhani and whispered, "Adrian will pull her out of it."
It was late afternoon by this point, and Admiral Pellaeon had been gone but half an hour when Tierra returned. She had a more stiff, urgent demeanor about her this time as she came in and took a seat. She glanced at each of them, but then looked mainly at Typhani as she addressed them. "They've decided to go ahead and get started," she said. "Now I'll be coming in periodically to let you know how things are going, but it may be very late in the night or perhaps even tomorrow before we can let you in to see him."
Typhani sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. "Adrian, come back to me . . . " she whispered.
From Out of the Icy Darkness
It was about an hour before daybreak when Lyscithea found her mother in her bathroom, being ill. "Mom, listen, you're going to have to take this stuff," Lyscithea told her, reaching for the bottle of sedatives that sat beside her sink.
"No, Scythi, I don't want to be out of it when they start the decarbonization." Typhani insisted. "I'll be all right. I'm just nervous, that's all." Lyscithea just shook her head, and tucked the small bottle of medicine into her robe pocket for later transfer to her purse.
Everyone got dressed in near silence. Daala watched with intense interest as Lyjéa brushed her own hair into place, put on her make-up, and selected and put on her jewelry from a travel case she carried.
"She's watching every move you make," Lyscithea whispered to her sister as she reached for her overcoat that the servant droid had laid out for her.
"Well," Lyjéa replied, reaching for her own coat, "I doubt she's ever met a blind person before. She's probably just curious," she suggested, adjusting her hat.
"Where's your mother?" Morgana asked.
Lyscithea hesitated as she pulled on her black leather gloves. She said nothing as she walked down the hall toward her mother's suite. The others stood pensively, waiting. Typhani looked weak and pale. Daala and Lyscithea helped her with her cape and scarf. "We'd better be on our way," Typhani said to the four others. "They want to meet with us before they start."
Typhani and her entourage were escorted into a large and comfortable waiting room that had been converted into a luxurious lounge for them, its door flanked by guards. "I've been here before," Typhani thought uneasily. A young woman about Lyscithea's age with shoulder-length, curly, dark- blonde hair and hazel eyes came in to meet with them as they piled all of their wraps onto one chair. She sat down in a chair across from the five of them, resting a clipboard thick with paperwork and a medical datapad on her knees. Daala and Lyscithea scrutinized her the most; Daala would serve as the de facto security officer for the group.
"Hello, everyone," the young doctor addressed them, "My name is Tierra Keldwyyn. I'm from Eriadu, and I'll be your daytime liaison for the duration. Um, we just found out this morning who we would be working with-- pretty exciting! Now I know what all those security checks were about. So, let me tell you a little bit about what I'll be doing. We decided to have liaisons for you because there will be so many people and droids around that we felt it would be better if you had one person you could go to who would know, at least in general, what's going on. As I said, I'm on the day shift. Rohmm Cydras, you'll meet him later, he's on the night shift, and Nortia Yeaant will switch out with us on our off shifts. It'll be a couple of days before you meet her," Tierra began to explain. Daala and Lyjéa wished they had brought their mobile computers. "First of all," Tierra continued, "I need to know who's who. Lady Tarkin, of course I know you, now which one is the sister?"
"I'm Morgana," she acknowledged herself. "and my brother is very special to me. I have only one left. Please be careful."
"Of course we will," Tierra assured her. "And the daughters," she continued, pointing to each of them with the stylus from her datapad, "let's see, you're Lyscithea, and you're Lyjéa."
"Got it!" Lyscithea confirmed.
"I can't see you," Lyjéa told her, "and so I will need you to acknowledge yourself to me until I learn your voiceprint."
"Yes, of course," Tierra acknowledged, and made a note on her clipboard. "And someone said there was a--one note says 'friend of the family,' another note says 'military advisor,'" Tierra continued, pointing her stylus at Daala.
"Yes. I'm Daala. And, I'm a little of both."
"Oh!" Tierra exclaimed, wide eyed. "You're the lady Admiral!"
"Not anymore," Daala muttered. "I wasn't very good at it."
"Oh, nonsense!" Tierra continued, waving a hand at her. "You were fantastic! We really hate Rebel scum around here."
"So do we!" Lyscithea affirmed.
But then a strange expression crept across Tierra's face, one that told Typhani she had heard the rumors. She indicatively reached over and took Daala's hand. The young doctor nodded slightly in acknowledgment tinged with confusion. She didn't dare ask.
Tierra continued on a more serious note. "Okay, the first thing I need to let you know is that we might not decarbonize until tomorrow. We're still running some scans to make sure we know exactly what we're up against."
Typhani emitted a small squeak, and her head sank into her hand, her elbow resting on the arm of the chair in which she sat. "Not another night!" she thought. "It's been so long, and I can't take another night alone!"
Morgana put an arm around her. "We don't want them to rush," she said.
"I know, I know. It's all right," Typhani said weakly.
Tierra continued when Typhani looked back at her. "Next, we just want to make sure that you understand that what is about to happen is not like what happens in the holovids. He's not just going to wake up and immediately know everybody and remember everything and walk out of here tomorrow. Now the good news is that he won't have nearly as bad a time with what we call 'memory rush.' Are any of you familiar with that?" Only Daala nodded, and so Tierra continued. "When someone comes out of carbonite encapsulation and the brain turns itself back on," she continued to explain, "there's a similar effect to bringing up a computer. You know that when you boot a computer after it has been shut down, all of the information in the computer immediately becomes available to you again. The memory works the same way after carbonite encapsulation. Once the brain reactivates, a person's memories tend to flood back all at once, and this can cause extreme confusion and even some psychological problems in certain people. But because his perceptions will already be slowed down due to the other head injuries, it won't be as bad, and he should be able to handle it just fine. Nonetheless, we'll keep a close eye on him for this type of stress during the first forty-eight hours.
"After that, and once were sure he's stable, then we'll establish lines and start with the neurobooster and the cell regeneration formula. But you all need to understand that it may be several days to a week or more before he's aware of anything at all, and that awareness will come very, very gradually. Any questions?"
Nothing, but Typhani leaned her head on Morgana's shoulder.
"All right, then. I'll keep you updated, and let you know in the event they do decide to decarbonize later today. My post is behind the nurse's station, and you can reach me with that comlink," Tierra explained, indicating the comlink on the table in the corner of the room. "Please don't hesitate let me know if any of you have any questions or concerns or if you need anything" With that, she left the five women to their own concerns.
"I was worried about the memory rush," Daala commented as the door closed behind Tierra. "I've known people who went crazy from it, and the older you are, the worse it is. I certainly wouldn't want fifty-six years crammed into a few hours. He's lucky on that one."
"I suppose we have to be thankful for every little benefit that comes our way right now," Morgana observed.
Several hours passed with no word. Typhani finally dozed a bit, leaning on Morgana. Daala read magazines as Lyjéa graded some student assignments and dictated some lesson plans for her sub. Lyscithea had left for awhile to call Kormath and speak to her children, but she had returned and dozed on the sofa opposite her mother. Then the door opened, and Typhani and Morgana both looked up with delight and a sense of relief, as if someone had walked into the room who would somehow make everything all right.
"Gilad!" Morgana acknowledged. "It's good of you to come!" She rose to greet him. Daala was also very surprised to see him, but even more surprised at the familiarity between him and Morgana, as they engaged in a friendly hug, but a hug nonetheless.
Daala was also taken somewhat aback by his appearance, now extremely thin, and very old, now eighty-three, though he looked even older. The last time Daala had seen him in person was when they parted ways upon her resignation/retirement after the loss of the Super Star Destroyer Knight Hammer during a battle in the Yavin system about twelve years previous.
He and Morgana seemed to look deep into each other's eyes for a long moment, holding each other at the arms. Then, he looked down at Typhani.
"Have they started yet?" he asked.
Typhani was resting her chin on the back of her left hand, and she just shook her head. Then he noticed Daala as he and Morgana finally let go of each other. He assumed a seat next to her. Paleb Viorska had told him that she would be among "The Emperor's Own," as they had code-named the group, but he was a bit surprised--no, impressed--that Typhani had actually pulled it off.
"Hello, Admiral," he greeted her, never in his heart accepting her resignation, although he was compelled to do so officially. "It's good to see you here."
Daala folded her hands in her lap. "We've had this discussion, Admiral Pellaeon," she reminded him.
"Oh, come now! Your Emperor will be giving you a new assignment soon," he said.
"We shall see," she said softly.
It hurt him to see her like that. True, he had seen her battered and shaken from her narrow escape from the Knight Hammer, but, despite the fact that she was weak and nearly dehydrated from several days of floating in space in an escape pod, she maintained her customary military stance and remained ready to accept whatever command he gave her as soon as she recovered from the ordeal. Now, though, she was obviously broken, beaten down, burned out. Of course, he understood why, but in his opinion of her, she didn't deserve to be in this state of mind.
It could be worse, though, he reminded himself. Although she had responded sporadically to some of his holonet requests for tactical information over the past few years, getting Daala off of Pedducis Chorios since the peace accord had been next to impossible. He knew. He had tried. In hindsight, though, he was thankful that he had not succeeded. Daala had been through enough, he reasoned, and, considering the present circumstances, she had needed the rest and the opportunity to rebuild her strength and regain her confidence.
Almost eight years had transpired since the last great rage of battles between the Imperial Remnants and the New Republic. The Rebels had recently been shaken by the election of a number of former Imperial leaders to their ranks, a bombing of their Senate chambers, and a takeover threat from one rogue Kueller, but, as usual, they had survived. In one last effort, Pellaeon recalled, he, Viorska, and some other Imperial Remnant leaders in the Core Worlds had attempted to kick the Rebels in the gut while they were down.
Once again stirred to action by her former mentor's dedication to the Empire and doctrine of "never give up," Daala had experienced a brief change of heart, partly in response to Pellaeon's own question of whether Adrian would have given up after the loss of the Death Star had he escaped uninjured. For his rhetorical question, Pellaeon had almost gotten Daala killed. She had journeyed to the Core Worlds in another attempt to unite the newly-risen warlords there, and to assist in their stab against the Rebels. However, the battles and the rancor between the combatants that ensued had been ruinous for the Imperial Remnants, and they lost their strongholds in the Core Worlds altogether. The Rebels were prepared to strike out with rancid vengeance at all that had happened to them. At the climax of the final battle, Rebel General Garn Bel Iblis had attempted to intercept Daala's flagship and capture her by having two of his ships close in on her on each side. Characteristic of her escape from the Maw, she ran full-force into one of Bel Iblis' ships, obliterating it--but badly damaging her own and almost ending up in the very situation Adrian currently found himself, nursing several broken ribs, a dislocated vertebrae, and a massive concussion that had actually left her with a hairline skull fracture. These blows came in addition to the psychological realization that two members of her bridge crew had literally thrown themselves on top of her, partially shielding her from the impact and saving her life. Once they were safe in hyperspace, Daala pulled herself from beneath the two bloodied corpses and crawled into a nearby corner in a daze, hoping that she would die before the remaining members her crew found her, or that they would finish her off when they did, feeling she deserved no less considering her record of repeated, and repeatedly devastating, defeats. She only vaguely remembered being taken down to sick bay.
She limped home, again, and, after recovering from her injuries, turned her attention back to the business of what remained of her colony, rarely even leaving her house for months. That's when Pellaeon heard a most deadly rumor. Daala had once annihilated a colony of Rebels--a colony about the size of her own--on Dantooine shortly after she emerged from the Maw. In the face of escalated hostilities, one of his top commanders alerted him of some intelligence that a Rebel faction was planning to hit Daala's colony in retaliation. Since the loss of the Knight Hammer, Pellaeon had come to view himself as Daala's protector in the absence of his close associate, Wilhuff Tarkin. Once again, her connection to Tarkin proved to be her salvation. Recalling the Tallaan Shipyards shuttle crash story circulated after the destruction of the first Death Star, Pellaeon issued an official death notice for Daala, without her knowledge, claiming that she had indeed been lost in the maneuver against Bel Iblis. He knew that it was Daala the Rebels wanted, speculating correctly that they would leave the colony alone if they thought she was out of the picture, and so he sought to distract them long enough until things settled down. Fortunately, it worked. The Rebel faction directed its wrath elsewhere, and life on Pedducis Chorios had continued as normal. The Rebels didn't discover the truth until just after the peace accord, and to take Daala and her colony at that point would have been a blatant and direct violation of it.
Pellaeon moved across the room then to speak to Typhani. "Are you all right?" he asked kindly.
"I just want him back," she whispered.
"I know," he said, "We all do, but certainly not as much as you."
Then he noticed the sisters. "Ah, Lyjéa, and little Scythi, not so little anymore," he acknowledged them. "I remember when you two used to skate through my ready room, and now you run one of the largest companies in the Outer Rim and you teach tech writing to half the galaxy! Scythi, how are those boys?"
"They're wonderful, thank you, Admiral," Lyscithea told him with a soft smile.
He couldn't stay long, as there was an important Council meeting the next day. In parting, he assured them that he would be kept abreast of the progress. "I just want you all to know that although I can't be here with you in person during this time, I am here with you in spirit," he said genuinely as he rose to leave.
But then he turned back abruptly, but deliberately, and looked directly at Daala. "Admiral!" he said, with a stiff Imperial salute.
Weakly and half-heartedly, she returned his gesture, then looked away, letting her hand drop back into her lap with a thud. "Oh, Pellaeon . . . " she ventured, almost under her breath.
Morgana leaned close to Typhani and whispered, "Adrian will pull her out of it."
It was late afternoon by this point, and Admiral Pellaeon had been gone but half an hour when Tierra returned. She had a more stiff, urgent demeanor about her this time as she came in and took a seat. She glanced at each of them, but then looked mainly at Typhani as she addressed them. "They've decided to go ahead and get started," she said. "Now I'll be coming in periodically to let you know how things are going, but it may be very late in the night or perhaps even tomorrow before we can let you in to see him."
Typhani sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. "Adrian, come back to me . . . " she whispered.