CHAPTER III "BES? Bes...let me in!" The voice at her door startled her. Linaire never disturbed her in the morning; Bes wished she hadn't now. She hadn't slept well in days. How could she? Bloated and uncomfortable, Bes had become increasingly listless and introspective. Pulling her robe on, the young woman shuffled across the dim room and palmed the door controls.
"I'm very sorry of I woke you," Linaire said as she rushed in, wide eyed and anxious about something. "I had to!" She grasped her friend's arm. "Bes, do you remember what we were talking about at dinner a few nights ago?"
"Oh, Linaire," Bes sighed and walked back to her bed with some difficulty. "You're getting yourself worked into a state! It's not good for you or the baby. How can you think Celis would lie to us? We're her guests, not her prisoners. There are probably many political things she needs to know that we don't."
From beneath the folds of her robe, Linaire extracted the small recorder rod and looked up at Bes meaningfully. "Bail Organa's aide just arrived with this. It's a private message for Celis."
"What have you done?" Bes was shocked. "You had no right to..."
"I have every right!" The girl shot back. Her lips were compressed into a tight line as she tried to control herself. "We both do! Bes, Bes, Captain Antilles told me one of the Jedi were killed! We have a right to see this; to know if our husband's are alive!"
Neither woman spoke as Linaire placed the rod in the small comm-console. The clear image of a kind-faced man with graying hair and green eyes filled the screen. It was the first time either of them had seen Bail Organa.
"Dear wife," the tired voice began. "I've sent Antilles to help you. You will need him far more than I. Half our forces are lost. Even the Jedi are being killed in this madness. Rydwin Ikhimnwin was murdered by a wounded prisoner he was trying to help. The end cannot be far when even compassion is repaid with death. All preparations to defend Alderaan must be completed at once. It will not be long before this war reaches you."
Linaire pulled the rod from the console, her hands shaking. Bes stared blankly ahead.
"They're alright," Linaire whispered, letting out her breath. "Safe!"
"But we're not." Bes' eyes were wild with fear, her hands clasped protectively over her abdomen.
Linaire's expression of relief gave way to one of seething fury. She began gathering Besantilier's clothing and throwing it on the bed. "And she didn't tell us a word...nothing!" She sputtered. I'll help you dress. We're going to see Lady Organa. You and I have been kept in the dark long enough!"
* * * Tajerh Mothma had met his family at the space port and listened, as they were driven home, to Aerolone's news of the Merchanters Guild and a growing network of would-be-rebels; all more closely interwoven than anyone suspected. Well, perhaps someone had made the connection.
The more Aerolone explained, the clearer the Evann Sorens affair became. Tajerh saw a pattern for the first time. Someone with influence and ambition was cleverly making minute changes in seemingly unrelated areas. Like tiny knots on the surface of fabric, each incident looked isolated when examined in it's own narrow field. What Tajerh feared was that it would take all the perspective afforded by time to see the pattern the knots formed-and then it would be far too late.
Time was Neiamas Palpatine's ally. The longer the Clone Wars dragged on the more time he had to plan his moves and shake up the unshakable infrastructure of his dynasty. Greed smoothed his path as well, for everyone had a price. Those who did not, those foolish individuals who would not be persuaded, would be subjugated or eliminated.
Of more immediate concern to the ambitious Senator were the dissidents beginning to make themselves heard. Idealistic zealots who clung to a concept much too dead to revive. A Galactic Republic indeed! The rabble was nothing more than an annoyance now; but their defiance was setting a dangerous precedent. What Palpatine required was a demoralized citizenry.
Still enough of a politician to consider image, and in a period of temporary impotence, the Senator had no choice but to keep a close eye on all suspicious activity, And to wait.
Life had been good to the Mothmas. Political infighting had wound down at last. No disasters loomed on the legislative horizon; even the battle zones had quieted. Neiamas Palpatine had been put in his place by the High Council; so much so that Tajerh Mothma was being urged to become a presidential candidate because of the face -off. He had even begun to consider the idea.
Aerolone Mothma had been in regular contact with the Parliament of Alderaan; from them she could count on unbiased reports on the war, in detail. Their latest report was profoundly disturbing.
Alderaan was a special planet. Generally considered the center of the galaxy, it was the point from which all that was new and innovative emanated. The finest minds in the galaxy were trained in it's universities, and influenced every strata of sentient life beyond. It was, simply put, the most civilized world in the galaxy.
If Aerolone was correct-and she fervently hoped she would not be-the Alderaan system was too inviting a target to be left in peace. Her concern had been eased, somewhat, when she learned Bail Organa had planned for his planet's defense. his wife had authorized the construction of an impressive barrier against attack.
More exposed, and nearly as important, was the massive space station Lorinth; now vulnerable between the Alderaan and Hub systems. Lorinth was owned and operated by a consortium of private, interplanetary corporations. To lose the station would spell financial ruin for several systems. Aerolone consulted the administrators and representatives, then had ordered Lorinth moved to the inner Alderaan system. as long as Alderaan was safe, it would be as well.
* * *
Anakin Skywalker watched the first armored cruiser as it appeared over the horizon with a mixture of relief and apprehension. He would remember Isua more for what had been lost there than for what had been won. I was all so senseless; how could Kenobi be right? Where was the reason in Rydwin's tragic death, or Vader's turn to the Dark Side?
But there was no more time to waste on 'what ifs'. Kenobi assigned Bazor and Yaroch to a final recon of the area while he and Skywalker helped load the wounded onto the ships.
Herridel took the point, picking carefully through the ruins of what had once been a happy village. " This is a waste of time, Herridel." Corbett complained. "There isn't anyone left here now. I feel...something strange. Let's go back. The transports are almost loaded."
"No." Herridel said firmly. " I sense it too. That's why we have to be sure. You check that building. I'll go this way"
The two Jedi split up, lightsabers in hand, unaware that they were being observed from the shadows. As she entered the ruins, Herridel was greeted by a gruesome sight. Here, an entire family had met death unawares. Old and young lay sprawled on the floors or huddled together in corners; as if holding each other could have saved them. There was only death here and Herridel turned away, sickened; turned to leave the ruins only to be stopped by a faint noise. She paused, listening. The sound came again. Faint, sounded like...
"CORBETT!" She shouted, holding a small energy lamp above her head, straining her eyes to see in the shadowy light. "CORBETT!"
Not knowing what he would find, the Weequay ran up to her, saber blazing. "It's a baby!" Herridel insisted. The sound came again." We have to find it!"
Together they stumbled through the debris, turned a corner and, there, beside the body of it's mother, was a terrified infant. Wide eyes staring out of a dirty face, it sat there crying.
Herridel began to step over a pile of stones that surrounded the child, but Corbett put out a restraining arm. Something seemed odd somehow. "No. Wait!" He warned. "Something is wrong here."
"Wrong?" She looked at him incredulously. "Corbett, it's a miracle,something alive in all this death!"
She gathered the trembling baby in her arms and kissed it's forehead tenderly. Corbett relaxed. Soon they would be off this cursed planet. Smiling, the two headed for the campground. Watching from behind a crumbled wall, the wounded enemy soldier smiled in silent satisfaction as he pushed the button on the handheld control box that reduced baby and Jedi to fragments.
* * *
The warriors of the old Republic finally left Isua in mourning for lives lost in battle and lives lost needlessly.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was far beyond grief; Rydwin, Corbett, he grieved for them at all, it was for the way death had overtaken them. Death held no fear for a fully trained Jedi; but the awareness of it's approach meant the difference between psychic torture and the effortless passage to another plane. These three were now in suspension, not lost to the Force, but not at one with it.
It now became more important than ever that Vader not be lost to Darkness. With Anakin Skywalker's help, Obi-Wan would make one last attempt to reclaim his student. It would not be easy. He impressed that upon Skywalker before they began. Vader would have to consciously refuse the Dark, or he could not be allowed to live to be used by it.
Anakin Skywalker stared out the cruiser's viewport at the limitless array of stars. "General," He spoke finally. "Where do we start? How can we hope to find Darth? Where would he go?"
Hands clasped behind his back, Kenobi, too, gazed out; looked with his mind's eye into the depths. "I know what it wants," He answered strangely." and where it is.I pray that he hasn't found it"
* * * * * Linaire and Besantilier walked into Celis Organa's meeting unannounced; playing their conditions to the hilt. The general mood of the governmental complex had been enough to confirm their suspicions. Everywhere there was a sense of feverish activity, rising panic.
The Minister of Education, and acting Administrator of Alderaan, Celis was hunched over a tabletop spread with documents and charts. beside her was a tall, dignified woman whose everyday dress looked out of place in such official surroundings. "Forgive our interrupting you, Lady Organa." Bes murmured an embarrassed apology.
Celis looked up, her face creased with worry, massaging her temples. Plans...strategy...tension...her head ached dully.
"We had to come," Linaire explained. " to bring this."
She placed the recorder rod Antilles had delivered on the desk.
"It will have to wait, Linaire." Celis' voice was harsh, her words abrupt. Her visitor studied the two young women with silent interest.
"We won't wait any longer." Linaire stood her ground defiantly. "This is a message from your husband. Bes and I saw part of it; enough to know that he and General Kenobi have lost half their troops, and one Jedi. We had to know about our husbands!"
"I'm sorry,I am," Celis sighed, not at all surprised at the news. "I would have told you if anything had happened to your husbands, I swear it!" "We don't wish to discuss this in the presence of strangers!" Bes protested in alarm. Even Linaire looked at the tall woman nervously.
"It's alright. Sit down, please." Celis urged. "This is Senator Aerolone Mothma. She is here to discuss the Jedi as well as what will happen to Alderaan should this war end as we fear. Sit down, both of you. This will take some time"
Aerolone returned home with a sinking feeling of dread, and the atmosphere on Radiaa did little to improve her spirits. Was it her imagination, or had the security personnel been increased at the spaceport? Every face she saw looked nervous, worried. She had heard more than she'd anticipated on Alderaan; about the war, about the Jedi - her head rang with it.
The ride to the villa went by in a blur and the first thing Aerolone did after arriving home was contact her husband at his offices.
"Welcome home, darling!" The mere sight of Tajerh's handsome, smiling face made her feel better." I hope your trip was productive."
"From a certain point of view." Aerolone replied cautiously, not confident of privacy over comm channels. "How soon can you get away? I missed you."
"You did?" Tajerh waggled his eyebrows playfully. "Well, you won't miss me tonight! Get some rest, you'll need it. I have one more meeting, then I'll be home."
"Meeting?" Panic was beginning to creep into her voice. "I checked your schedule, Taj, you don't have any meetings planned for this evening."
"No, I didn't," he admitted," But Sinilau and Palpatine have some urgent matter to discuss."
"At the last minute?" Aerolone snapped. "I don't trust either of them. Promise me you won't meet alone with them."
"Be reasonable, Aerolone," He countered. "I have to meet privately with them. It won't take long, don't worry."
But Aerolone couldn't help but worry. As the hours dragged by, she began to believe that those would be the last words she would ever hear from her husband.
Her worst fears vanished when Tajerh walked in smiling. Dack was tucked in and the night stretched out long and peaceful before them. They were newlyweds again, discovering each other for the first time. Years, politics, all disappeared in a night of love and passion.
"What would I do without you?" Aerolone surprised her husband with such a wistful remark. Her face was nestled on his chest as he stroked her hair.
"I'm not going anywhere, my love." He yawned. "So you'll never have to find out."
"I know, she whispered," but why do I feel as though we're running out of time, somehow? It's morbid, Taj, I..."
He put a finger to her lips. "We have years, Aerolone. We'll watch our son grow, do all the things we've planned - get out of politics! I'll buy you your own little planetoid somewhere. How does that sound? Aren't you looking forward to sleeping with a creaking old man in about 70 years?"
She started laughing; first at the thought of the two of them idle and wrinkled, then because his cold hand on her back tickled.
"Only 70 years more?" Aerolone sighed, content. "I'm sorry, darling. It's just that Alderaan depressed me so. Organa's wife trying to cope, and those poor young women. I just want it to be over, Taj."
"It will be. " He promised, gathering Aerolone tightly in his arms and closing his eyes. "It will be."
Sometime later in the night the small comm console in the Mothma's bedroom signaled an incoming transmission. Tajerh woke and took the call; not thinking it at all unusual to be summoned in the middle of the night. After all, half the planet was awake and busy while he slept.
These people weren't on the opposite side of the planet, however. If they had been, Tajerh would have insisted on a morning meeting.
Dissident leaders, more trouble brewing than could be discussed over the comm...would Mothma meet with them? After the Sorens affair, who else could be trusted with such an explosive situation? it would only take a few hours.
Tajerh dressed, took a few moments to leave Aerolone a message, then kissed his sleeping wife and hurried to the landcruiser.
When morning dawned, the baby's crying woke Aerolone even though she knew Marcea would tend to her grandson promptly. Rested and content, she stretched luxuriously and turned to find herself quite alone in the huge bed. Suspecting nothing amiss, she rose reluctantly then noticed a short message printed across the comm monitor.
"Darling, Dodonna has some emergency related to our activists. I've gone to talk with them near the spaceport. Should be back before breakfast.I love ."
The message was over five hours old.
Paralyzed, her eyes scanned the words again and again. Could it have been so pitifully easy? Had her beloved husband simply walked into the hands of their enemies? The terror pulsed through Aerolone in waves; trembling realization wrenched her heart and tore through her throat in strangled gasps. Aerolone began to scream; her mad, tortured shrieks echoed through the house. Jan Dodonna had just arrived on Alderaan as she was leaving. He would be there for days.
If Aerolone had known what happened to Tajerh in those hours as she slept peacefully, it would have destroyed her sanity.
Jan Dodonna was, indeed, on Alderaan; something Tajerh had no way of knowing. Retaining an unshakable faith in the decency of the beings he expected to meet; the Senator suspected nothing insidious as he arrived at the run-down warehouse. The fledgling bands of activists were necessarily cautious about who and where they met. The deserted surroundings were to be expected. Bringing a bodyguard hadn't even occurred to Tajerh.
Mothma knocked twice on the hollow metal door...waited. Something was wrong. He glanced around furtively, trying to see into the darkness beyond the dim illumi-panels on the buildings.
From out of those shadows five figures materialized and surrounded the Senator. A large, muscular man, Tajerh was subdued after a brief but intense struggle, bound, gagged and shoved into an armored security vehicle.
Neiamas Palpatine, himself, supervised the proceedings with clinical curiosity. What he wanted was information on what his sources told him was a rebellion in the making; information he was certain that Tajerh Mothma possessed. The method employed to obtain it was savage-guaranteed to produce results.
"The Burning". Primitive, brutal and devastatingly successful. For hours, Tajerh Mothma's flesh was seared from his legs then from his arms. Two blasters set on low power were wielded with sadistic precision as Palpatine screamed questions and Tajerh just screamed.
But they were torturing a man who could not tell his captors what they wanted to know and would not implicate the one person who could-Aerolone.
Hooded, bleeding, his body at the limit of it's endurance; Tajerh thought of Aerolone and his son. He would never see them again. Never see Dack grow, never keep his promises to Aerolone.
Even Neiamas' maniacal screeching faded as Tajerh relived the last hours he and his wife had spent together. Poor Aerolone,she had been right.
With renewed frenzy, his torturers assaulted his body. "Who are they?" Palpatine's voice barely penetrated his pain now. "Where are they?"
He was pitiful. Some part of Tajerh's spirit wanted to laugh at the twist of fate that thwarted such ruthlessness.
He was dying now. He felt death creeping in as his life's blood flowed out. Aerolone would be alone. He had promised her years, and now she would be alone. Tears flowed as he wept with great, heaving sobs.
Palpatine licked his lips in pleasure. They had broken him! The great Tajerh Mothma, reduced to tears. Not begging yet; but the evil Senator was gratified.
In the end it didn't matter as much to him that the torture had failed to produce the wanted information. His main objective had been to eliminate Mothma as a political foe and future adversary; the only obstacle to his presidency. The Senator's dealings with the annoying pro-republicans had made it simple for Palpatine to eliminate one enemy, blame it on another and so be rid of them all.
Aerolone was rushing madly to the groundlimo that waited, it's driver at the controls, to take her to the warehouse district. About to step in, she froze in shock. Another groundcar whined to a stop in a cloud of dust; a tall, ashen faced man stepped out, his black bordered robes whipping around his legs.
The look on Vanest Rienstra's face said everything. She didn't have to hear the words. Here was the harbinger of death.
"Aerolone, " He held out his arms, his voice choked with emotion. "Tajerh has been murdered." He tried to embrace her but she pulled away violently.
"NO! Let me go, I want to go to him!"
"They won't let you near the scene!" Vanest blocked the entrance to the groundlimo. "You don't know where they found him"
"I know where he went," she snarled." I know he walked into a trap!" Hot tears began to fall." Please, I have to go to him!"
"No, Aerolone, no." The Senator held her by her shoulders." He wouldn't want you to see."
"I HAVE to see him, no matter what they've done to him! I have to know WHY!"
"Seeing won't tell you why the dissidents would want to kill a Senator. Especially Tajerh."
"The dissidents!" Aerolone clawed at Rienstra, pounding his chest as he held her shoulders firmly. He looked to the villa's entrance where Tajerh's mother-in-law stood holding his infant son, weeping." NEIAMAS has done this! Only Tajerh stood in his way! He wants to be President, nothing will stop him! Don't any of you fools see it? He wants to be dictator...EMPEROR!"
Aerolone slid to her knees, weak and choking with sobs. She pounded the gravel with her fists. "He'll pay for this! He'll pay!" Her tortured cries rent the air." Tajerrhh!" Overcome, the tall black man knelt beside her.
"Come, Aerolone,■ He whispered, brushing tears from his own eyes." I'll take you to him."
* * * *
The end of the Clone Wars was nearer than even those involved suspected. While Kenobi and Skywalker began their search for Darth Vader, Celis Organa completed the largest construction project ever undertaken on Alderaan.
The people of that planet, so accustomed to neutrality, had no more reason to suspect it's construction than it's possible need.
In those last days of naivete, Alderaan was all two young refugees, anxiously awaiting their first children, could desire. Confident that they were safe, believing that Celis Organa and Senator Mothma would no longer withhold information that affected them, Bes and Linaire began to relax-feel at home.
They also became better acquainted with members of the Court, especially Bail Organa's personal equerry. Einar Antilles spent most of his time working on 'the project', but occasionally his wife and child visited Alderaan.
At little over two, Wedge was a dynamo. Even among the children of the aides and staff who resided in the Palace-all older and larger-Antilles' son dominated the play area. For several hours each day, Linaire and Bes were surrounded by bright, laughing children who kept them busy with endless questions when they weren't begging for stories.
Surprisingly enough, Bes' patience never wore thin, as Linaire's did, in the midst of such clamor and activity.
Both women usually helped each other with needlework while watching the little ones give the droid supervising their play a bad time. Today, Bes had not yet come down, and Linaire found herself the center of interest.
"Can your baby hear?" A chubby five year old girl peered up at her through a fringe of red hair. "It must be awful in there...all dark! I could sing, if it can hear."
"Of course it can hear." Linaire smiled. She eased herself onto a garden bench, letting out a long breath." And very soon the baby will be here, and you can hold it and see it, and the baby will see you!"
"I don' wanna see it!" Wedge grimaced as he stopped with a handful of dirt. His own pudgy face and dark hair were already streaked with it. "Babies ugly, and them cry an cry. I can fly , watch me! Watch!"
He was off again, zooming through the other children tossing his mud bombs, making engine noises that gave Linaire chills.
The toddler nearly collided with Bes who was carefully sidestepping his scattering targets as they dodged his mud. She counteracted with a handful of loose dirt, then burst out laughing. After the surprise wore off, so did Wedge.
Bes sat next to Linaire with a groan, wiping her hands on her gown as the little boy tore off across the garden on another imaginary mission. "Are you sure you want a boy ?"
"Not one like him!" Linaire sighed." Can you imagine a little terror like that experimenting with levitation?"
Bes laughed aloud at that. She hoped at least one of her babies would be a boy; but the gender wasn't as important as their inheritance of the force. "Well, he'd never be bored," Bes replied. "Or boring."
"Don't you wish you'd looked at the records, just once?" Linaire asked wistfully. She certainly regretted not reviewing the medical records of the infants and their progress.
"No," Bes answered, slightly embarrassed by her old-fashioned attitude. "I want to be surprised. Whatever they are ,I'll be happy."
"So will I," Linaire agreed, patting her protruding abdomen; but she wanted a son.
Einar's little tornado bounded by again, still playing space pilot at the top of his lungs. This time with 'wingmen'. "But I hope he'll be quiet, like me." Linaire sighed. Both women laughed at that.