Chapter XI – Phoenix: Star-Crossed Lovers
We had arrived on Kruvex approximately midmorning planetary time, and by the time we had completed our preparations it was nearly dusk. A stormtrooper was sent to the garage to inform us that the rehearsal dinner would begin in fifteen minutes and that Governor Laman expected our presence.
"We will be there," I informed him.
The trooper's gaze moved to Tuck. "If you need anything before the show, let me know – or any of the stormtroopers. We brothers have to stick together, you know."
Tuck's jaw dropped. "How did you know…"
"How could I not know?" the trooper chuckled. He saluted. "I don't know what you're doing out of uniform, brother, but whatever you're trying to accomplish here on Kruvex, I wish you luck." And he spun on his heel and strode away.
Tuck gaped after him, then shook his head and looked away. "He doesn't know. If he knew, he wouldn't be nearly so open…"
"Oh, cheer up, you grouch," Jessa complained. "Fett, you about done with those outfits?"
"Done," he replied, tossing the last of the cloth away. Tuck had managed to find a great deal of inexpensive but eye-catching fabric, blue interwoven with silver, and from this Fett had quickly stitched vests and trousers for himself, Luke, and Tuck and a cloak for Jessa.
Ash eyed the costumes critically. "Very good. Luke, you'll find a length of silver wire in that toolbox on the bench. Wrap it around the acklay's muzzle in a sort of decorative halter. Vader, how's the ring's illusion holding up? Well enough. Does everyone know what to do once we get out there?"
We had rehearsed countless times, but we could only hope everything would play out once we were before a crowd. It was out of our control now; whether we succeeded or failed at this depended on how Laman's guests received us.
"Then let's go. No, wait." She raised her wings and inspected her tattered feathers critically. "This won't do… let's see…"
For the second time since I'd known her, the phoenix underwent a transformation, though this one was not nearly as dramatic. Her brown color deepened and took on a slightly golden cast, her feathers smoothed themselves out and took on an iridescent sheen, and her body became streamlined and graceful. No longer the worn creature we had become accustomed to, she was not nearly as glorious as she had been in her prime, but she would be eye-catching enough to our audience tonight.
"How long can you keep that up?" asked Luke.
"Hours if I have to, though hopefully we won't be out there that long."
The soldier returned at that moment, luckily missing our exchange with Ash. "They're ready for you."
Luke took a deep breath. "Let's go."
The soldier led us to the door of the banquet hall and told us to wait there until our arrival was announced. All the same, I stepped just inside the doorway to scan the area. The dining hall of Governor Laman's palace was a surprisingly austere chamber – steel walls, vaulted ceiling, durasteel floor, and expensive but tasteful furniture. Several long tables held the guests, mostly Imperial leaders from the look of things. The air was filled with their banter and laughter, though the chatter had a nervous undercurrent to it. It was as if they were trying far too hard to convince themselves and each other that they were truly enjoying themselves. Unsurprising – they had to know that they had weeks at most before they would be put out of power.
Laman sat at the head of the centermost table, his daughter on one side and an uncomfortably familiar-looking man who I suspected was the groom seated on his other side. So General Veers was still around. I wondered what Governor Laman hoped to accomplish by acquiring the ruthless, dedicated officer as a son-in-law. It was unthinkable that young Tyra loved the man…
"Ladies and gentleman," came the announcement, "we have a special treat tonight – members of the Royal Naboo Circus with their extraordinary trained beasts and a droid of remarkable talent! Proudly introducing the Skywalkers!"
The applause was brief and polite as I entered the chamber, Ash perched on my arm. Several people murmured in speculation at the sight of the phoenix. Tuck entered through a doorway on the other side of the hall, unnoticed… until he gave a long whistle and raised his own arm.
Ash launched herself into the air, gliding low over the tables. A few people screamed in surprise and dodged while others gasped in wonder. In flight, Ash was truly beautiful.
Tuck whistled again, and Ash circled first one table, then another. A hand gesture from Tuck, and she soared to the highest point of the ceiling, then dove for him like a descending missile. She landed neatly on his arm and folded her wings away.
The applause was more enthusiastic this time, I noted.
"A gift for the bride-to-be," Tuck said loud enough for all to hear, pulling a flower from his vest and giving it to Ash. "Will you deliver it?"
Ash bobbed her head and took it in her beak, then went airborne again. A few more acrobatics, then she landed on the table before a startled Tyra and bowed, depositing the gift before her. Before she, Laman, or Veers could react, she was airborne again, circling a few more times before landing on my arm once again.
The applause was cut short, and gasps filled the room as Luke and Fett led Nightwind into the hall. For the first time I noticed something that should have been quite obvious – the acklay was growing. When we had first discovered him, his head had barely reached my chest; since that time almost a meter had been added to his height. And his color seemed to be deepening as well, from a fiery orange-red to a deeper berry red.
Luke gestured sharply downward with one hand, and Nightwind bowed regally to the crowd. That action alone garnered an enthusiastic response. To most of the galaxy, acklays were notoriously difficult, if not nearly impossible, to train, even if one started when they were cubs.
Nightwind's routine went off without a hitch – he reared, danced, "spoke," shook claws with Fett, performed simple addition and subtraction by tapping with his foreclaws, and played dead before the crowd. Laman's guests loved every moment of it, and Nightwind seemed to absorb the attention like a sponge.
As a sort of finale, Fett signaled for the acklay to lower his head. Luke bent forward, and Nightwind opened his mouth and carefully took him in his jaws. The room filled with gasps of amazement and applause. I just smiled beneath my mask – we trusted Nightwind implicitly. He considered us part of his pack, friends and equals. He would sooner chew off his own legs than knowingly harm one of us.
"They ought to have a young lady in the act," I heard Veers mutter to Laman. "Have a bit more impact if there were a woman in danger…" Though something in his tone suggested he would not have been impressed by a woman… or much of anything, for that matter.
At last it was Jessa's moment of glory. It took a few moments to wire her player to the room's sound system, but once that was accomplished, she assured us she could take it from there.
"A hint," Ash said just loud enough for Jessa and I to here. "I would avoid love songs at this time, or at the very least anything overly romantic. I sense an unusual amount of tension…"
"Visions of Adam Sandler in 'The Wedding Singer,'" Jessa murmured. "Should I sing 'Love Stinks' or what?"
"I trust you to use your own discretion," she retorted.
Jessa stepped forward, graceful as ever, and sang something I recognized from our days on the road – "Stand By Me." She was totally oblivious to the reaction of the crowd, to anything but the song, immersing herself in it, her metallic body totally responsive to the music. It seemed music was to Jessa what piloting was to myself and Luke, a natural talent that bordered on obsession.
I was not expecting the reaction she received once the final strains died away – a standing ovation.
"Encore!" demanded Laman, a wide grin on his face. "Encore from the droid!"
She glanced my way as if seeking permission. I nodded assent, and she made some kind of adjustment to the player and proceeded to sing "Lean On Me," then "Forever Young." Obviously she would be the hit of the night. The Imperials certainly seemed to love her.
At last I waved off a third encore and took Nightwind's lead, ready to lead him back to the garage.
"Mr. Skywalker, a word?" Laman inquired.
I told Jessa to take care of the acklay, then turned back to the governor. "Yes?"
"I must admit, I was not expecting such a performance. How in the galaxy did you manage to train that acklay? And the bird – I've never seen anything like her… and the droid, what a voice…" He gave me a covetous look. "I understand the creatures are you and your sons' source of livelihood, but I would be quite willing to pay a handsome price for them, enough for you to acquire new attractions…"
"They are not for sale," I replied. "It is not a business matter, but a personal matter. We have worked with them so long that they have become members of the family."
"I see," he replied, though his slight scowl told me he really did not see. "Very well, then. You will stay for my daughter's wedding and be paid well enough for your troubles. And perhaps I can give you a letter of recommendation when you seek work again."
That conversation over, I moved off toward the garage. The others were helping themselves to the feast, including Ash, who was perched on the back of a chair beside some Grand Admiral's wife and accepting scraps from the lady's hands. I let them be and departed. They had all worked hard and deserved the respite.
When I entered the garage, an unexpected sight met my eyes… Tyra.
The governor's daughter had certainly taken no time to rid herself of her formal gown and change into something more comfortable – white tunic, sapphire-blue vest, brown pants, and calf-high boots of dark brown lizard hide. Her hair, elaborately braided into a crown for the banquet, now hung down to her waist, held out of her face by a simple elastic headband. She seemed oblivious to my presence, scratching Nightwind's nose and crooning nonsense to him. Jessa watched, her eyes merry, as she filled his water trough.
I hung back a moment, ensured the illusion still held strong, and approached her. The ring was silent, not openly disapproving of her presence but not offering anything positive either. Evidently Tyra was not vital to our quest, at least not yet.
"Lady Tyra…"
"Please, just Tyra," she told me, never taking her eyes off the acklay. "I'd rather you address me as a friend than as one of those snobs my father likes to consort with."
So she was not naturally shy; it was the presence of her father that kept her so subdued. "Behind his crest," I told her. "He likes to be scratched there, but hard – it tickles him otherwise."
"You mean they get ticklish?" she asked, amazed, as she obliged. "Stars, you don't think about something so fierce and predatory being ticklish – or liking to be scratched, for that matter…"
Nightwind moaned in pleasure and leaned forward to allow Tyra better access to the back of his head. "Nice lady…" he crooned, though she couldn't understand him, of course.
"What's his name?" she asked.
"Nightwind," I replied.
"Well, hello, Nightwind," she cooed. "You're a good boy, aren't you? You did so well tonight at dinner… such a good boy…"
"What'd she say? What'd she say?" he asked eagerly.
I translated – telepathically, of course – and addressed Tyra in the conventional manner. "I think he likes you."
She laughed. "You know, for once I have to agree with General Veers – it would be exciting to have a woman in your troupe. Could you imagine? A beautiful lady and a fearsome-looking beast… wouldn't it look wonderful to the audience?"
"Are you volunteering yourself?" I asked.
"Why not? It'd be far more exciting than attending Father's boring state dinners and balls, sitting through speeches, listening to the men gab on for hours about battle strategies and treaties and alliances, hearing Veers go on and on and on about his army's victories and his incredible missions, as if they were the only important things…"
And to my utter shock, she suddenly dissolved into a fit of noisy, desperate sobs. I could only stare, stunned, wondering how she could act so upbeat one moment and burst into messy tears the next. Part of me wanted to console her, but another just wanted me to leave the room until her hysterics abated. My mother – Shmi had never wept like this, nor had Padme… I had no idea how to react…
"Men are insensitive clods," Jessa grumbled, and she dropped the bag of feed she had been hauling and went to Tyra's side, taking a corner of her glittering cloak in one hand and placing it over Tyra's nose. "Blow, sweetheart. You can talk about it better if you're not all stuffed up."
Tyra complied, then wiped her reddened eyes with her fingers. "Sorry. I'm just… I miss him…"
Only now did the ring perk up, prickling warmly. So the girl WAS a key to whatever we had to accomplish here.
"Sit, girlfriend." Jessa perched on a bench and patted it. "Let's have a girl-to-girl talk."
She stared, no doubt puzzled that a droid would suggest a "girl-to-girl talk."
"C'mon, sweetie, I don't bite."
"Talk to her," I urged Tyra. "She is an intelligent droid. Perhaps she can help you."
She took a seat beside Jessa and hesitantly began to speak. "It's… it's Veers… I don't love him… I don't want to marry him…"
Not exactly a shocking revelation.
"I'm in love with somebody else… but Father won't have it… says it's not proper… he wants me to marry Veers… thinks that with his political influence and Veers' army… they can take a stand against the Rebellion and stay in control of Kruvex… been talking about an alliance for months…"
"And your hand in marriage is a condition of Veers' support of your father's regime?" I theorized.
She nodded. "Before she died, Mother taught me that marriage should be about love, not politics or social games. She told me to follow my heart, that it was the best compass I could find, even if it led me in a direction I couldn't understand. So when I fell in love with… with Blade… I didn't even question how strange it was. I just embraced it."
"Who's this Blade?" asked Jessa. "Is he cute?"
"Oh, he's handsome!" gushed Tyra, brightening a moment. "He's got these dark eyes you just fall into, and these broad shoulders, and this smile…" She looked about to swoon for a moment, but then recomposed herself. "He was a little weirded out by me at first, but now I'm positive he loves me back…"
"Does this Blade have brothers?" asked Jessa with a note of hope in her voice.
"Lots of them. He's a stormtrooper."
Jessa's eyes resembled the eyes of a womp rat caught in landspeeder headlights. "A what?"
"A stormtrooper. I call him Blade because he has a scar across his face from a vibroblade attack. The other troopers tease him about it a lot…"
"Um… if he's a clone…" Jessa seemed to have been overwhelmed by the absurdity of this romance – a governor's daughter and a cloned soldier. I made no comment – after all, I had seen stranger match-ups.
"I told you it was strange… but you don't know him, you don't know how sweet he is… we had it all planned out… we would sneak out aboard a shuttle to the next system over and elope…" Her eyes filled with tears again. "Father found out about it. He discovered his notes to me. First he yelled at me for a good hour, then he had Blade transferred to a base on the other side of the planet. But he keeps in touch – we have a secret comm line that Father knows nothing about. And last night he told me that he was arranging to come to the Kruvex capitol on his leave, and we could sneak away then!"
"When does he arrive?" I asked.
"The day before the wedding. If everything goes well, we can be off planet and a dozen systems away before anyone notices I'm gone." She dabbed at her eyes with the hem of Jessa's cloak. "I just miss him. And I'm worried. He's a stormtrooper, there are a million things that can happen to him…"
"And dwelling on them won't help anything," Jessa told her. "Look, if you truly love this… guy, then have some faith in him. He has a plan, and he's committed to seeing it through. Just trust that he'll keep himself out of trouble and come for you."
Tyra smiled. "Thanks."
"Anytime." She patted her shoulder with a clawed hand. "And if you need a shoulder to cry on, mine's available. Won't be too comfy, seeing as it's metal…"
"You're a lifesaver," Tyra replied, embracing her. "Thank you. And thank you, sir, for letting me talk to her."
"You are most welcome, Tyra."
Nightwind sniffed. "Humans and their complicated mating rituals. Glad I'm not one."
Break…
The next day, another stormtrooper – or the same one, I was not sure – came to our makeshift quarters in the garage and informed us that the governor had "requested our presence" at an informal gathering that night.
"By 'requests our presence,' he most likely means 'show up if you don't want to be shot as Rebels or traitors,'" Luke said wryly after the soldier had left.
"And he'll probably expect fresh tricks," noted Fett.
"That won't be difficult," Ash assured him.
"But I thought we were supposed to be accomplishing a quest," Tuck said, puzzled. "Not impersonating circus performers."
Luke turned to me. "Father, has the ring given you any idea…"
"The governor's daughter," I replied, and explained what had transpired last night. Tuck looked fit to burst at the news, but the others took it in stride.
"Good for her!" Luke said with a wide grin. "Standing up for her heart!"
"A pair of star-crossed lovers," Ash noted with a dreamy look in her eye. "As long as there is love between two souls somewhere, there is hope for this imperfect universe of ours…"
"As long as we don't have to perform at the wedding," Fett grumbled.
"And the other clones laughed at ME for being so strange!" Tuck exclaimed, looking torn between amusement and indignation.
"That's our quest?" Nightwind asked, cocking his head at a puzzled angle. "To help the nice girl and her mate escape?"
"The ring has not specified the nature of the quest," I replied. "It will take more information to be sure."
"And we have the perfect opportunity to gather information," Ash replied. "Tonight, after the performance, everyone mingle with the guests. And I mean everyone – even let them see the acklay up close. Keep your ears open. And I want someone to pay special attention to Governor Laman. He may let something important slip, especially if he's well wined-up."
The second night's performance went as smoothly as the first, this time culminating in a conjoined act as Jessa performed an upbeat number she called "Best Years of Our Lives" while Ash executed incredible aerial maneuvers and Nightwind danced to the beat. Then, once the audience had calmed down, we split up and circulated throughout the room. Any promising snippet of information, any gossip that might bear fruit, was quietly filed away.
After a good hour and a half, we were all exhausted and had turned up nothing. Frustrated, we returned to the garage.
"That was a waste," humphed Jessa, collapsing with a metallic clatter in a corner. "The most I found out is that Grand Moff What's-His-Butt has the hots for poor Tyra."
"With a body like that, can you blame her?" asked Luke. Then he seemed to realize what he had just said and blushed.
"Where's Tuck?" demanded Ash, her amber eyes flashing with concern. "Nightwind, wasn't he with you?"
"I thought he went back with Luke," Nightwind protested.
"Maybe he's onto something," Fett suggested. "He says he's good at finding information…"
At that moment Tuck entered the room, shaking badly.
"Tuck!" Luke raced over and steadied him. "What's wrong?"
"My brothers, my brothers…" Tuck gasped.
Without conscious thought I reached out and gripped the trooper's shoulder with my left hand. A snap of power passed through me and into him, and the frantic tension melted from his face as his story poured out:
"I was following Nightwind out when, for some reason, I felt compelled to take a different route. As I passed a conference room, I overheard two men talking – Governor Laman and General Veers. And they were discussing Tyra and Blade.
"'You promised me that soldier was out of the picture!' Veers was saying. He was quite upset.
"'I DID get him out of the picture,' was the governor's reply. 'Tyra is young and silly. If she's separated from that clone for a few weeks, she'll soon get over her little crush and be ready to settle down. Why do you think I went to such trouble to transfer him? And believe me, I had no idea he'd go to such lengths as to set up a comm line…'
"Then Veers retorted 'Then why not destroy the clone? It's obvious he's aberrant! No normal clone goes wooing his commander's daughters…'
"Then Laman replied 'Because he's one of my best soldiers. And with that mockery of an Alliance gaining power every day, I need all the good soldiers I can get.'
"'I'm warning you,' Veers said. 'We had an agreement. And if you value the life of one stinking clone over our agreement…'
"'Calm yourself, Veers," came the reply, 'this is but a minor obstacle. This clone will be on his way here in two weeks' time. It will be a simple matter to… be rid of him. His shuttle can always have an accident.' He was silent a moment as if thinking. 'It will mean losing another fifty soldiers, but if your own forces are as powerful as you say, it's a paltry loss.'"
Oh, Tuck, why did you have to be the one to find out? Of course you would take this hard. Outcast or not, these men are still your brothers, in a sense.
The ring burned and throbbed, and I clenched my left hand tightly. Even before the exchange between Luke and Ash, I knew the nature of our first quest.
"What are we going to do?" Luke asked.
The phoenix laughed. "Why, rescue Lady Tyra's love and Tuck's brothers, of course!"
