CHAPTER FOUR
Danaé gripped the control stick of her X-Wing tightly and struggled to maintain a smooth descent through the heavy clouds of Dagobah's atmosphere. Artoo toodled a series of worried queries and remarks.
"That's right, we have coordinates for where to set down."
"No," she laughed. "I don't expect Master Yoda has a landing platform in the swamps."
"We're still right on course, Artoo, don't worry."
"Okay. If it will make you feel better I'll lower the landing gear now."
"I guess you're right. The clouds do seem to be getting thicker."
Artoo squawked frantically. "I know! I know! The sensors are out."
Another anxious blooping warble. "I can hold this pattern."
"Yes, I'm sure I can hold it."
Artoo beeped sharply. "Oh, yeah. I guess we don't know our altitude anymore, do we?"
After only a moment she learned her answer. The closed S-foils of the starfighter crashed loudly into tree branches, snapping the wood violently as the ship plummeted toward the rapidly approaching ground. A few seconds later the X-Wing jolted to a stop with a tremendous splash.
"Oof!" Danaé gasped as her chest slammed into her harnesses, nearly knocking all the air from her lungs. Her back smacked roughly into the seat again on the recoil, and she sat silently for a minute until she could breathe again. Then she heard quite noticeable gurgling sounds and felt the X-Wing beginning to sink further into the water of the bog. Quickly she removed her helmet, unsnapped her harnesses, and tapped the button to open her cockpit canopy.
She stood up in the cockpit and looked around. In the thick soupy fog hanging over the swamp she could see only a few yards in each direction, but she surmised the dark shapes through the mist were trees rising from nearby shores. Behind her she heard Artoo beep a question. Turning around, she saw he had extracted himself from his station on the rear of the ship and was slowing rolling forward on three legs.
"Be careful, Artoo," she warned gruffly. "I do not want to have to clean you up if you fall into this mess. Got it?" The astromech stopped where he was and blooped a chagrined apology.
Danaé stretched out her feelings into the Force and probed the swamp around her. She determined the water of the bog was only waist deep, and the shore was indeed only a few yards away. "Okay, Artoo," she smiled. "I'm going over to the dry land," she pointed with her left hand. "Then I'll get you." A happy bloop came back in reply.
She reached around for the single braid of long brown hair that trailed all the way to the small of her back and wrapped it into a tight bun on the back of her head. Then she unclipped her lightsaber handle from her belt. Looking down at her white flight suit, she chuckled. It's a good thing I'm not as vain as Leia… Danaé swung her legs over the edge of the open cockpit and sat there for a moment. She stretched back inside to tap the button to close the canopy again just before she released her hold and plopped gently into the water. "Oh, wow," she grinned. "It's nice and warm." She sloshed her way toward the shore, holding her hands up over her head to keep them and her lightsaber dry. With each step her boots stuck briefly in the mud at the bottom of the swamp.
Halfway along her trek she sensed what seemed to be a fairly significant example of indigenous swamp life swimming toward her from the side. She stopped in her tracks and surged her awareness toward it in the living Force. Apparently it was some form of eel, almost as large as she. She waved her free hand through the air and projected a sensation of danger and threatening ferocity to the aquatic beast. Instantly the eel spun around and fled. Danaé allowed herself a small smile as she slogged the rest of the way to the solid ground and pulled herself up from the water.
She turned around to face the half-sunken X-Wing. Artoo toodled apprehensively as the maroon-and-white vessel shifted again and sank a bit further into the swamp. "Okay, okay," she laughed. Danaé raised her right arm straight out from her body and closed her eyes. She dropped her mind into the Force. Immediately it burst into her consciousness like a tidal wave. The sensation was remarkable, unlike anything she ever had experienced before.
The bog was teeming with life: trees, vines, algae, birds, snakes, unfamiliar mammals and reptiles, countless fish of various sizes swimming in the waters, frogs, the big eel, and what seemed to be an almost infinite number of insects. The amount of life energy flowing from and through these swamp creatures nearly overpowered her mind. Yet she held her focus and drew on the raging currents of energy. Bolstered by the power of the living beings around her, floating Artoo gently through the air to settle next to her was amazingly easy.
Danaé lowered her arm and opened her eyes. "Is that better?" Artoo toodled a warm burst of thanks. "That's good." She heard another ominous slurp and looked up again to see water covering almost all of her starfighter. At least I remembered to close the canopy.
Danaé used her gloved hands to rub the gobs of mud and tangles of algae from the now very muddied pants of her white flight suit. Then she removed her discolored white gloves and tucked them into her belt next to her lightsaber. Fortunately she knew she had a few bottles of clean water and a water purifier unit among her supplies.
"Okay, Artoo," she sighed. "Time to get the ship out."
The droid blooped indignantly. "No, no," she chuckled. "I didn't mean you. I meant me."
Artoo beeped in confusion. "Of course I can lift it. Why wouldn't I be able to?"
The astromech did not relent. "Well, yes, I suppose it is pretty heavy."
"It doesn't matter, though. As long as I hold my concentration."
"Yes, I'm serious."
"You have so little faith in me. Just watch." Danaé again raised her right arm straight out into the air and closed her eyes. And again she drew on the tremendous waves of the living Force washing over her. She locked her concentration on the starfighter that was by now almost completely submerged in the water. Slowly she began to lift the ship directly upward in the air, using the Force to brush away the muck and underwater plants that clung to the lowered landing gear. Freed from the weights of the swamp bottom the X-Wing rose smoothly out of the water. Danaé held the levitating craft a few feet above the murky bog's surface, then slowly turned her body as she directed it toward a small clearing in the trees a few dozen yards away. When its ponderous movement finally ended the starfighter rocked lightly on its landing gear, still dripping with water and mud and draped with long strands of swamp foliage.
Artoo wobbled from side to side as he blooped excitedly and toodled proudly.
Danaé could not react. Her eyes popped open, her arm slumped to her side, and she gasped for air. Her focus had been so intense that she had not noticed the effects on her body of her profound concentration and exertion. Still gulping breaths she dropped ungracefully to her knees and clutched her hands over her abdomen.
Artoo spun his dome toward her and beeped with concern. Danaé shook her head. "No… it's… okay… I'm… fine… I just… need to get… some air." After a few more calm, deep breaths she rose to her feet again and leaned down to wipe the mud off her knees and shins. She patted Artoo on his dome and indicated the X-Wing with her other hand. "Time to unload the supplies, buddy. Then I'll clean up the ship a bit before I meditate." She grinned broadly. "It will be great to meditate here – the living Force flows so strongly in this place."
She strode confidently toward the starfighter, her toes squishing in the water and mud that had seeped into her boots during her walk through the swamp. Rolling behind her Artoo beeped another question.
"No, actually. I don't plan to look for Master Yoda. Dad said not to bother." Artoo blooped again.
"Because," she laughed with amusement, "he'll come find us."
---
Leia stood in a cramped mechanical closet on the Falcon, using a pair of pliers to rearrange a set of wires in an open fuse box just above her eye level. Part of the damage the freighter had suffered from its close encounter with the bounty hunter's torpedoes was a troublesome series of electromagnetic disturbances that continued to plague one of the port drives. Han had given her a set of instructions that purportedly would cure the problem. Elsewhere on the starship Chewie, Lando, Sarré, and Threepio also were assisting with attempts to bring other failing systems fully on line again too. And all this had to be completed before they dropped from hyperspace in the Pharenniol system a few hours from now.
While she carefully disconnected a blue wire and began work on its red counterpart, she tried to control her frenetic emotions. For weeks she had been excited to take this trip and to see Han again. Then, suddenly, just before her departure the endless series of admonitions from her family had shaken her confidence utterly. She wondered if she had made a terrible mistake in taking this mission. Even Sarré's gentle reassurance had not been enough to restore her composure.
With the red wire successfully freed, she worked to connect the blue wire to its new home. What's wrong with me? she wondered. How can I go from ready, to not ready, to ready, to not ready again in a few days? I don't understand what's happening. I'm not supposed to be like this. She sighed loudly in frustration, pausing for a moment to tug at the short looping braids in her hair with one hand while she rubbed the other along her side to add more grime to her now very dirty azure flight suit.
Absorbed in her own deep thoughts she didn't hear Han's footsteps, so she flinched in surprise when he stuck his head through the open doorway and spoke.
"Everything going alright for you, Princess?"
"Don't do that!" she barked.
"Do what?" he asked, a little taken aback.
"Sneak up on me."
"Sorry, Your Highnessness," he chuckled through a bemused smile. He stepped all the way inside the closet and leaned in to inspect her work.
Suddenly Leia noticed how close their bodies were. She could hear him breathe, smell his aftershave, see the small beads of sweat on the back of his neck and the spots of dirt and specks of grease on his white shirt and black vest. Her heart started to race.
"Hey, you really do know what you're doing," Han grinned as he leaned back from the fuse box to face her.
She glared at him. "You act as though you're surprised."
"Well, maybe I am," he laughed. "I mean, it's one thing for a Senator to be trained in some self-defense and gunnery and things like that. But repair? Yeah, it's a little surprising."
Leia's frown turned into a self-satisfied smile. "I guess so. It's not from being a Senator." Unconsciously she leaned back against the wall, creating just a bit more space between them. "My father worked on podracers and droids before he became a Jedi. He's an expert at fixing things. We couldn't grow up in his house without picking some of that up too."
Han nodded thoughtfully. "It's not a bad skill to have, no matter what you do in life."
She realized he was looking closely into her eyes, and without wanting to she flinched again. Her eyes found the open fuse box on the wall. "I should finish this up."
"Go right ahead."
While she started to work on reattaching the blue wire again, he didn't move. He just stood there. Watching her. She could feel his eyes on her face. And her body. She liked it. A lot. But she tried hard not to reveal it when she spoke again. "Don't you have something you should be doing too?"
"Yeah, probably." Nonetheless he gave no indication that he intended to leave.
"Oh, you make it so difficult sometimes," she grumbled without looking at him.
"I do. I really do." He leaned in closer until his face hovered just over her shoulder. "Come on. Admit it. Sometimes you think I'm a pretty good guy."
"Occasionally. Maybe." She sighed deeply, still unwilling to look at him. "When you aren't acting like a scoundrel." As soon as the word left her mouth she regretted it. Blast you, Sarré! You're going to pay for this!
"Scoundrel?" he chuckled victoriously. "I like the sound of that."
"It's not a compliment."
"It sounded like one to me."
Leia finally pulled her eyes from the fuse box and glared at him again. "I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brain."
Han smirked at her and held her gaze intensely. "Whatever you say, Princess."
Just as she was about to fire a retort at him, her hand slipped inside the fuse box and smacked against a metal plate along its bottom. "Ow!" She yanked her hand out and waved it briskly in the air between them.
"Watch it there, sweetheart," he said calmly. Gently he took her wrist in one hand and raised her hand up toward his face. "There's no cut. You'll be fine." With his free hand he tenderly began to massage her palm where a red welt was beginning to form.
She knew for certain his hand around her wrist could feel the thundering of her rapid pulse. "Stop that," she ordered.
"Stop what?" he answered snidely with a lopsided grin.
"Stop that. My hands are dirty."
"My hands are dirty too," he grinned. "What are you afraid of?"
"Afraid?" she gasped. She sounded like a fool and she was becoming progressively angrier with herself for it. "I'm not afraid," she insisted firmly.
"Really? Then why are you trembling?" He pulled up her sore hand and touched the welt very briefly to his lips. As he lowered them again he took both of her hands in his and his face leaned in toward hers.
Leia's willpower collapsed completely. Her heart blasted through her brain and up out of her body – or so it felt to her. She knew he had her. There was nothing else she could say. He was right. "I'm not trembling," she lied, knowing what was coming next and trying mightily not to die of anticipation over the next few seconds.
"Oh yeah, you are," he whispered in the split second before he kissed her.
She felt as if she was about to faint when his lips finally touched hers. The kiss was soft and tender. Affectionate. Something she had missed so much. Without realizing she was doing it, she squeezed his hands tightly and her body tilted in toward his, and she could not stop herself from letting a small moan of joy burst in her throat.
A few heartbeats later Han broke the kiss and leaned his head back from hers just an inch.
Their eyes were locked in an intense stare of incredible power and depth. To her it really seemed as if this moment might last an eternity.
"Sir! Sir!"
See Threepio had picked that precise instant to appear in the open doorway, and the protocol droid was shouting excitedly no less. "We've isolated the problem with the radial capacitor, sir!"
Their hands shot apart and flew to their respective waists as Han spun awkwardly in the enclosed space to face the droid.
"It seems the polarities on two of the power couplings have become reversed," Threepio explained theatrically. "As soon as the matter is corrected we should be back to usual functioning in no time."
"Thank you," Han said in disgust. "Thank you very much."
"Oh, you're perfectly welcome, sir," Threepio responded obliviously, turning to make his way back down the hallway.
Leia was by now focused on her wiring repairs again. From the corner of her eye she could see Han take a quick glance over his shoulder at her. But the moment between them had passed, and he stalked out to chase down Threepio for a more thorough explanation.
As soon as she was sure he was gone, Leia dropped her hands to her sides and let her back thump ungracefully into the wall. She tilted her head upward, resting the back of her head against the cold metal. She tried to take a series of deep, calming breaths, but to no avail. I'm still trembling, she thought. I'm still trembling.
---
Mara stared at the low ceiling of the darkened bedchamber on the nondescript passenger liner traveling from Corellia to Kuat, then destined for a path through the Mid Rim and ultimately to Tatooine. Without consulting them the Operations Office at the Temple had requisitioned a single room for the journey. So now she and Luke were arranged together on the one narrow bed, both lying on their backs in their full Jedi robes, their adjacent shoulders touching ever so slightly.
The physical discomfort she could tolerate. It was the emotional wall he had built between them that she was unwilling to permit.
She took a deep breath and finally spoke, keeping her voice hushed. "Why are you shutting me out, Luke?"
There was no reaction in the Force. None at all. His barriers were firm and unrelenting. "I've got a lot on my mind," he sighed. "And not all of it I want to share with you."
The bitterness in his voice stung her like a painful insect bite. "I thought you were glad to get out of the Temple," she said quietly. "To have a real mission. Something to do that actually matters."
"Yeah, sure. If you say so," he scoffed, shifting his weight incrementally on the bed. His shoulder no longer touched hers at all.
"You don't think this mission matters?"
"Consider the facts, Mara," he said disgustedly. "The Sith have returned to the galaxy. There's going to be a war in the Mid Rim. And we're going off to some remote, life-forsaken sandpit to find two Padawans who probably got lost in the desert. How does that matter? In the scheme of things?"
"Um, Luke," she replied mischievously, "your father grew up there. I'd be careful what you say."
"Yeah, well, he's not here. I'll call that ugly lump of rock whatever I like."
"Fine." She rolled slightly on her side, trying to see his face better in the darkness. "Not everything we do has to be about the grand scheme of things. Bringing peace to a troubled planet, or shutting down a slave trader, or even just making a small difference in someone's life, those are all important things the Order does."
"It's not that I don't think those things are important," he insisted rather unconvincingly. "It's just that, with all that's going on… I guess what I mean is, if this is all there is to my life, to being a Jedi, then why was I even born?"
She was so stunned she didn't say anything for nearly a minute. "What's that supposed to mean, Luke?"
"Come on, Mara. Think about it." He blew out a deep breath angrily. "My father. The Chosen One. Conceived by the will of the Force itself and destined to defeat the Sith and bring the Force into balance forever. As opaque as those ancient words actually are, you know what they call it now, right? The Skywalker Prophecy. Not the Chosen One Prophecy, like they used to. No. The Skywalker Prophecy." The venom in his voice for those final three words chilled the air between them. "I'm his son. I'm a Skywalker. And all I'm meant to do is rescue incompetent apprentices from their own misfortune?"
"First of all," she said sharply, "we don't know what the situation on Tatooine is, and we won't until we get the final set of data and can starting checking into it ourselves. And second, you think it's any easier for me?"
"How?" he chuckled. "How it is at all difficult for you?"
"I'm his apprentice, you idiot," she growled. "Everyone expects me to be the most powerful learner in the Temple. They expect me to be the best at every single skill, every single technique. All the time I hear the rumors and the talk." Her voice imitated the harsh, mocking tone of malicious gossip. "'Why hasn't she taken the Trials yet?' 'Something must be wrong with her.' 'Why else would he be holding her back?'"
"I hadn't realized that," he conceded softly. "Still," he persisted after a moment, "it's different being a Skywalker. Danaé feels the pressure too." He sighed. "It's like we're letting Dad down by being ordinary."
"You're not ordinary," she insisted firmly. "And you're not letting him down. I'm certain of it. He's very proud of you. All four of you. You know that."
"I guess." He paused to clear his thoughts. "I mean, you're right. But I can't shake this feeling I have, that something is missing. That there's more to my existence than just these Jedi missions over and over again."
"I feel the same way," she admitted for the first time to him. "I'm apprenticed to the greatest hero the Jedi Order has ever had. There has to be a reason. A purpose to it. Not that I've found it yet, obviously."
"Who knows?" he laughed. "Maybe this mission will turn out well after all. But sitting here and complaining about it isn't going to solve anything."
"The famous Skywalker insight," she chuckled sarcastically. "You have almost as much as he does!"
He joined her laughter, and it eased both of their spirits. She realized she had sensed his lighter mood, and very delicately she reached into the Force to test his barriers. They remained, but they were lower, weaker, and less strident. Cautiously she rolled onto her back again and rested her shoulder against his once more. He did not move away.
She decided it was time to change the subject to something he'd be more forthcoming about. "You're worried about Leia too, aren't you?"
"Some," he admitted quietly. "I hope she doesn't regret this."
She couldn't suppress her chuckle. "I think she can take care of herself. No man has ever seduced her, and no man ever will."
In the dim light he cracked a faint smile. "Yeah. That's not what I meant, though."
"What, then?"
"I just don't want her to get hurt. To be too disappointed if things don't work out the way I think she's hoping."
Mara shook her head. "If she thinks she's ready to fall in love again, you shouldn't doubt her."
Luke nodded. "Sure. It's just her choice I'm worried about."
"Like you're really one to talk about poor choices," she teased. Instantly she worried she shouldn't have said it, and wondered frantically how to retract it.
Fortunately Luke took the jest in stride. "A fair point." His voice remained unconvinced. "But I also never put much on the line with those decisions. I didn't let myself get vulnerable, not the way she might be doing with Solo. And I'm just really concerned he's going to break her heart."
"Well, then you'll have to have faith in her," Mara soothed gently. One set of hands almost was touching too. Very gingerly she reached out and clasped her fingers against his palm.
He did not react at all to the gesture, other than by not rejecting it. "I know. She always has faith in me."
"I do too," she whispered.
---
A crowd of several thousand well-dressed dignitaries and citizens stood patiently in front of a large stage erected at the edge of a broad grassy plain on the Core world of Nubia. In the distance an ancient forest stretched for miles, covering the low foothills to a mountain range that rose at the visible horizon. A dull murmur of conversation mixed with the shrill calls of birds and the whistling of the brisk autumn wind.
At the rear of the gathering where he could keep a close eye on the stage, Darth Malus tugged his black cloak more tightly around his body to ward off the chill. He scanned the throng of wealthy patrons of the Supreme Chancellor until he found Darth Delicti on the far side of the lawn, calmly weaving her way through the crowd toward the stage. A satisfied smile crossed his lips, and his free hand stroked his short black-and-gray beard in anticipation.
A middle-aged man in opulent purple robes strode to the podium and began to speak. "Thank you all for coming today," he announced loudly to quiet the undercurrent. "We are pleased to welcome home our native son for this dedication ceremony of the Supreme Chancellor Gannis Trellem Nature Preserve. It is my honor to introduce the first speaker. He is…"
Malus tuned out the pompous oratory and scanned the situation again. There were two Jedi Knights at the base of the stage, which held about three dozen planetary and Republic officials, including the Chancellor. Two more Jedi, a man and a woman, were stationed to the rear along one side, only a few paces away from him. His eyes met Deliciti's, and she nodded confidently to him.
He reached down to his belt and unclipped his lightsaber. Clutching the handle firmly, he raised his other hand to his lips and used two fingers to blow out a high-pitched, piercing whistle. Enhanced by the Force the sharp noise startled everyone present. Simultaneously Delicti flicked her wrist and smashed with a blast of invisible energy the trio of Holonet cameras broadcasting the scene to the galaxy.
That distraction was the only advantage the Sith needed.
In a flash Malus surged to the pair of nearby Jedi with his brilliant ruby blade whirling over his head. The two Knights reached for their lightsabers, but it was too late. With a single swift whirling arc Malus chopped off the man's weapon hand, decapitated the woman, and impaled the man through the heart. His first task completed, he charged into the crowd, striking down as many of the gathered dignitaries as he could.
In the same instant Delicti lunged at the two Jedi at the stage, slicing a mortal blow across the Cerean's chest and impaling the human through the abdomen. A Force-assisted double back flip launched her into the air and brought her down again beside the now-silent speaker. Reversing her grip, Delicti stabbed her red blade backwards to kill the man. Then she drew the shimmering lightsaber up over her head in both hands and swung a powerful blow straight down on the horrified Supreme Chancellor.
As soon as the Sith had slain the Jedi, nearly two dozen undercover Vyhrragian agents drew blasters and began to shoot indiscriminately into the crowd. From around the broad lawn the thirty Republic soldiers in the Chancellor's security detail tried to return fire with their rifles. The undercover agents blended into the innocent multitude, however, and the Sith either moved too quickly or simply deflected away the bolts with their lightsabers.
By the time Republic reinforcements arrived too many minutes later, the enemy forces had vanished and the blood of the dead stained the bright green grass with gruesome rivers of crimson.
---
Sarré moved as quickly as she could toward the cockpit through the Falcon's cramped passages. A few minutes earlier an urgent bulletin had been received over the designated emergency frequency, instructing Leia to contact her mother immediately. Han and Chewie had set the freighter on autopilot and gone to find her handmaiden. When Sarré arrived she heard no voices speaking, so she anxiously burst inside. "Sorry I'm late," she said quickly while catching her breath. "I haven't been feeling well and I was resting and I…"
Leia spun around in the pilot's seat but did not say a word. Her face had gone completely pale and her hand was shaking as she waved off Sarré's rambling apology.
Her friend's appearance stopped Sarré cold in her tracks. "Leia? What's going on?"
"It's… It's… It's just awful."
Sarré managed to get her legs to work again and sat down across from Leia in the much-too-big co-pilot's chair. "What happened?"
"At Nubia," Leia rasped, forcing the words past her constricted throat. "It was a massacre."
Sarré reached over and gently took Leia's hands.
"There was a ceremony. To dedicate a nature preserve, I guess. Two of the Sith were there, and some spies apparently. They just killed everyone they could."
Sarré stayed silent, giving Leia the time she needed.
Leia choked down a sob. "Over nine hundred were killed."
Sarré looked into her friend's eyes and could see true fear. "There's something more, isn't there?"
"Yes," Leia nodded weakly. "The Chancellor is dead."
"Wow," Sarré sighed, utterly shocked by the news. "This is really bad."
"It is," Leia whispered.
"How do we know who it was already? Trellem has a lot of enemies. Couldn't it have been anyone?"
"They tried to knock out the Holonet cameras, but they didn't know there was a spare. One of the reporters got some clear images of the Sith Lords. And the security team managed to kill one of the spies. They're confident he's Vyhrragian."
Sarré sat quietly for a moment, trying to come to grips with the stunning turn the crisis had taken. After a deep breath she looked intensely into Leia's eyes. "Do we have to go back to the capital?"
"No," Leia shook her head. "We're not returning. This mission is important. And we'd never get there in time anyway." She wiped her eyes again. "My Mom and your Mom will just have to deal with the Senate for us."
"Are you sure?"
"I am."
---
In a dark room Darth Vengous crossed her black-robed arms and leaned her elbows on the table while she watched the wavering blue image form above her holoprojector. "I will hear your report, Lord Malus."
"Yes, Master," the hooded figure replied. "The mission was a success. The target is eliminated, the slaughter is accomplished, and the clues are there for the finding. Everything worked perfectly."
"Indeed. The Holonet already is casting blame on Argis and the Crusaders of Justice," the Sith Master nodded appreciatively. "So, my friend, how many Jedi met their destiny today?"
"Only four, unfortunately." The image paused momentarily. "And, if I may be so bold, they put up disappointingly poor resistance."
Vengous nodded in acknowledgement. "That is to be expected, Lord Malus. They are no match for us."
"Yes, Master," Malus agreed. "We will be arriving at the rendezvous point shortly."
"You have done well, apprentice." With a wave of her hand, Vengous terminated the feed. From beneath the cowl of her black cloak she lifted her eyes to meet the steely gaze of the pale, gaunt man seated across the small table. "It is as I have foreseen."
"The first stage is always the simplest," General Tarkin replied flatly. "The next will be considerably more complicated." Then the elderly tactician chuckled knowingly. "Not that I doubt you will succeed, of course."
---
Sabé sat calmly in the Naboo delegation's pod in the massive bowl of the Galactic Senate. For the last five hours the debate had been raging among the Senators with an intensity she had not witnessed in many, many years. Behind her in the pod Nalé and Representative Tickis remained utterly silent, equally entranced and appalled by the enmity on display. Secretly Sabé was pleased by their attentiveness – this was an experience unlikely to be repeated for quite some time.
Not that she was surprised by the debate's ferocity, of course. In the rapidly deteriorating Vyhrragian crisis the selection of the next Supreme Chancellor was of monumental importance.
The Senate had been called into emergency session as soon as word of Trellem's assassination had arrived. Although the body formally had been in recess, due to the crisis environment most of the delegates had remained on Coruscant to continue the ever-present negotiations and quarrels over the progress of the conflict. Those who had departed the capital had left trusted subordinates behind, and most were directly involved in their delegation's actions in the session by means of long-distance transmission or Holonet feed.
When the session had begun on the morning of the second day after the Massacre at Nubia, the two expected nominations had been moved immediately. The peace faction had proposed Senator Breena of Rodia, a veteran of their bloc and member of the now-disgraced task force sent to the summit at Malastare. The defense faction had offered Senator Bail Millius of Alderaan, the young, brash, highly skilled legislator who had led the criticism of Trellem's handling of the Vyhrragian crisis since its inception. The speeches from delegates on both sides, in favor of or in opposition to the candidates, were almost concluded.
In fact, only one remained.
The pod of Senator-at-Large Skywalker released from its moorings near the huge chamber's floor and rose into a hover a short distance from the central podium, which was occupied temporarily by the Twi'lek Senator Rylla of Ryloth in his capacity as chairman of the Rules Committee. The pod's sole occupant wore a striking blue gown and an elaborate Naboo hairstyle that somehow gave her presence more gravity than it already possessed.
The speech had been written weeks ago in anticipation of this vote. Working together Padmé, Jenny, Leia, Sarré, Tickis, Sabé, and Millius had crafted the perfect address to conclude the defense faction's arguments. They had not known precisely what disaster would befall the Republic or what exact action the Vyhrragians or the Sith would take, of course. But they had known one was coming sooner or later. And they also had known that when it did, the time to demolish the peace faction's hopes of retaining the chancellorship would have arrived. Once the text had been finished, the only remaining question had been whether Padmé or Leia would deliver it. Events had provided that answer for them.
Patiently and deliberately Padmé began to speak. "Chairman Rylla, fellow delegates, honorable representatives of the Republic. A tragedy has occurred. One that began right here, in this most hallowed of chambers. This august body, the pinnacle of our political society and bastion of freedom and justice for the Galaxy, is responsible for the death of a friend, a leader, and a good man."
Sabé smiled. The opening words echoed another speech, three decades earlier, in another time of crisis. Most of the delegates around her, she knew, would not fail to comprehend the reference to the present speaker's first appearance before the Galactic Senate. And Padmé, as she always did, had struck just the right tone in her description of the martyred Chancellor – honoring his memory without praising him too highly. Listening to the speech, Sabé followed along in her mental log of its text. So fully was she immersed in Padmé's cadence that she did not perceive it when she leaned forward expectantly, nodded in agreement, or pumped her fist in support.
"… is at an end," Padmé was declaring far below. "Argis has maintained that he seeks only economic prosperity for the impoverished, fairness for the downtrodden, and justice for the exploited. Senator Millius has rejected these claims since the beginning. He has revealed, time and again, how Argis' actions betray his true motives. The New Justice movement is a fraud. It always has been and always will be." Padmé paused very briefly, letting the condemnation hang in the air. "Argis wants nothing more than power, pure and simple. He seeks not prosperity but conquest. Not fairness but domination. Not justice but tyranny. His reign of terror in the Mid Rim has continued for too long already. The time has come to end it. And when we elect Senator Millius as Supreme Chancellor, today will mark the beginning of that end."
A loud roar of applause interrupted the address. Sabé, however, only clapped lightly. The defense faction's leadership council had performed a rapid analysis of the situation in the Senate before the debate, which had given them considerable confidence that Millius would prevail. And the peace faction's orators had done little to benefit their cause. So in her heart Sabé believed the outcome already was determined. But she wanted to save her loudest approval for the stark finish that only she and a handful of others knew was coming.
After listing Argis' crimes and betrayals and renouncing him yet again, Padmé straightened her shoulders and increased the pace of her delivery almost imperceptibly. "And so, my fellow Senators, I call on you to cast your vote for Senator Millius of Alderaan as the next Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Do so for the sake of goodness and righteousness in the Galaxy. Do so for your constituents. Do so for the families of the soldiers who fight and die for the Republic in this conflict. Do so for yourself. Most of all, do so because it is the only decision possible in these terrible times." Padmé paused, focusing her concentration on the speech's concluding words. "For many years you have known me as a staunch supporter of negotiation and compromise, as a firm believer that war must be a last resort only when all other alternatives have failed. I say this to you, my honorable colleagues…" For the briefest of moments Padmé paused again, holding the rapt attention of everyone in the chamber before she raised her voice only slightly to emphasize forcefully her final admonition. "Now is such a moment. I have come to this conclusion, and beseech you to do the same. You must see the choice before you today for what it truly is. It is a choice between inaction and action. Between capitulation and confrontation. Between surrender and triumph. Between defeat and victory. You must do the duty you were elected to do, as I will do mine. May the Force be with you."
This time Sabé joined the thunderous ovation for Senator-at-Large Skywalker. She sprang to her feet and cheered proudly for her dear friend.
Minutes later when the votes were cast and tallied, the outcome turned out to be far from close. The delegates of the Senate then sat in profound silence while Bail Millius solemnly took the oath of office as Supreme Chancellor of the Republic.
---
Bryon sat at the long wooden table in the stateroom of a Republic Navy frigate above Corellia, making entries on his datapad for the draft of his battle assessment report. He had not yet received his next assignment, which was highly unusual given the ongoing hostilities, but he attributed the delay to Army Central Command's patient deference to the recently resolved political leadership struggle in the Senate. For days he had analyzed the course of the fighting at the planetside manufacturing plant and the orbital shipyard, and he had come to the conclusion that given the units allotted to the mission the result was acceptable. The number of casualties was high, but the enemy had been defeated without inflicting any significant damage to the facilities. Certainly there were small aspects of the operation that could have been carried out differently – but he could not allow the perfect clarity of hindsight to cloud his judgment of the innumerable instantaneous decisions made during the fierce skirmishes.
A weak, tentative knock at the open door interrupted his train of thought. "What?" he barked gruffly.
"I'm sorry, sir," his staff secretary apologized fearfully. "There's an urgent transmission from Coruscant for you. From the Senate."
"Very well, Kessa," he nodded, his eyes never leaving the datapad. "Put it through."
The young woman turned and fled. A moment later the viewscreen on the wall at the far end of the table activated and a clear image formed, but still he did not look up at it. "Bryon?"
He nearly jumped from his seat at the sound of his mother's voice. "Oh, Mom. Um. It's good to see you. Sorry," he stammered. Unconsciously his hands adjusted the fit of the jacket of his dress-whites uniform. "I was just trying to finish this and I…"
"It's fine, Bryon," Padmé smiled warmly. "I have a request for you from Supreme Chancellor Millius. I hope you don't mind that he asked me to deliver it."
Bryon had followed the proceedings in the Senate live over the Holonet and was well aware of who his new Commander-in-Chief was. "No, Mom, of course not."
"For obvious reasons he intends to upgrade the security contingent assigned to the entire Senate, as well as to the Supreme Chancellor personally, effective immediately. As soon as possible he would like a company of Special Forces for his guards. With you in command."
Bryon suspected he had a dumbfounded look on his face, but there was nothing he could do about it. "I would be honored," he said after a deep breath to collect himself. "I will depart for Coruscant right away."
"Thank you, Bryon. The Chancellor knows of your reputation in the Army, and how highly I speak of you. This was not a difficult decision for him."
"Thanks, Mom," he nodded shyly. "Oh, and Mom?"
"Yes?"
"I thought your speech was amazing. It was very moving."
"Thanks, dear." Her image looked back over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Mom." When the viewscreen shut down, Bryon turned off his datapad and burst from the stateroom. After only a few long strides he found Kessa seated in a chair in the nearby officers' lounge, working at her own datapad. "Walk with me," he said quickly.
Without a word the timid corporal leapt from her seat and scampered along at his elbow.
"We must leave for Coruscant without delay. Find Graff, Pryzill, and Krannar and inform them. Then contact Command and find out which companies of the Special Forces are two weeks or less from their latest leave. I need a fresh one. If Delta company meets the criterion, and I think it does, I want them. Otherwise, bring me the list. Then issue the orders to deploy the designated company to Coruscant immediately, with me as commanding officer. Don't worry, Command already knows about this so it won't be a problem. After that I need you to…"
---
The two Jedi Masters drew their brown cloaks around their tan robes and prepared to disembark from the Lady Vader. Before lowering the boarding ramp, however, Anakin turned around briefly to speak to the black-and-gold astromech droid waiting for final instructions halfway back up the narrow cabin hallway.
"Security protocol one, Jaytoo," he said simply. Not only was no one but a Skywalker or Obi-Wan to be allowed on board, but the droid was authorized to use the starship's concealed weapons against anyone who tried to break their way inside. When the droid blooped and whistled in acknowledgement, Anakin smiled. "Very good. I have my comlink if you need to contact me."
As the droid wheeled around and rolled toward the cockpit, Anakin spun back to face his companion. "Are you ready?"
"I am," Obi-Wan nodded, absentmindedly scratching his short white beard.
"No reason to wait, then," Anakin chuckled. He ran his fingers twice through his short gray hair. Then, simultaneously with his old friend, he pulled up the hood of his cloak to cover his head and conceal his face.
The pair emerged into a small side hangar at the Royal Palace complex in Theed. To preserve the element of surprise the secrecy of their arrival was essential. And as they had been for decades, the zealously loyal guards were more than happy to oblige the former Queen Amidala or her husband. Walking quickly across the spacious marble room they disappeared into the maze of secret passageways on the Palace's waterfall side.
Soon they ambled effortlessly through the late evening crowds in the city's wide streets, the orange glow of the setting sun lighting the boulevards as they headed in the general direction of the Cathedral of the Liberation. They had intended to arrive here within a day of Anakin's nightmarish vision from the Force, but the Chancellor's assassination and the subsequent succession election had necessitated that they remain on Coruscant to monitor the political situation in the Senate with the rest of the Jedi Council. Now that Millius had several days as Supreme Chancellor under his belt, they finally had been able to depart the Temple to investigate the vision and attempt to discern its meaning.
"Have you had any more time to consider what we might find?" asked Anakin quietly as they stepped around an enthusiastic discussion among a quartet of Gungan youths.
"Some," Obi-Wan sighed. "Not as much as I would like." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I believe there are two likely alternatives. The first is that the vision depicts an actual future encounter between you and the present Sith Master. The representation was highly symbolic, of course, as all Force revelations are. Nonetheless, the details are telling."
"I agree," Anakin nodded. "The first location marked the emergence of Sidious, and the second his demise. It would seem probable the third location would have some relation to the new Master." Then he blew out a frustrated sigh. "Perhaps if I had been able to remain controlled, I might have seen a fourth location related to her defeat."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. You can't know that, Anakin, and wondering about it will not accomplish anything."
"I know, Obi-Wan. I'm doing my best to put those thoughts aside." He paused while they pushed their way past a large crowd outside a very pleasantly fragrant bakery. "And the second alternative?"
"The vision may be entirely metaphorical. It is possible these parallels are not literal relationships but rather clues to be interpreted – clues that once we understand their meaning will lead us to the Sith Master. If this is true, I have no doubt that examining the Cathedral and meditating further about the vision here on Naboo will be of benefit to us."
"I have considered that possibility as well, and I agree with your assessment. Perhaps there is a clue waiting for us in one of the window images, idols, or prayer plaques inside the building. We may have to examine all of those before we can know with any certainty which alternative is the correct one."
"That is true," Obi-Wan agreed. After they had walked in contemplative silence for several minutes, Obi-Wan decided that they needed to ease their spirits before undertaking this important investigation. "Well, Anakin, there has been no word from Luke and Mara yet. I suppose we must take that as a good sign."
"Yes, I think we can," Anakin chuckled. "They are never shy about complaining when the information they are provided is inadequate. So apparently they have been able to proceed."
"Were you surprised that Leia did not return to Coruscant after the assassination?"
"No. She has her mother's rationality. She would have known she could not have arrived in time to participate. So I expected this decision from her."
"A very sensible one, I think," Obi-Wan smiled deviously.
"Not like one I would have made in my youth, you mean?" Anakin laughed. "I won't argue with that. And besides, I think she had another reason to stay on her mission. One more in line with the Skywalker influence."
Obi-Wan peered out from beneath the cowl of his cloak and raised his eyebrows. "A certain Navy officer?"
Anakin flashed a lopsided grin. "Your insight serves you well, my friend."
"I thought you were skeptical of her relationship with Captain Solo?"
"There's no relationship, at least that I am aware of. Don't get me wrong, I'm delighted she's ready to be happy with someone again. I'm just not convinced about this particular man, that's all."
Obi-Wan smiled. "But you have an open mind?"
Anakin laughed. "If I learned one thing from you, old man, it's that a Jedi always must be willing to see the circumstances from a different point of view."