Chapter 3: Unsatisfying Politics
"Don't be absurd!" Tyron slammed a fist on the table. The hit was so hard that it forced the cup next to him to tip over and spill. Luckily, it didn't spill all over him. But he was too angry at the moment to appreciate that fact.
"There is nothing absurd about it, Your Excellency," Leia replied, trying to maintain her cool, "You have no use for the mines on Esfandia. The Republic does."
"Those mines are vital to the survival of the Empire," Tyron snapped, rising from the chair and glaring flames across the table. "We have so few to begin with. Our economy needs the mines, and you'd be well advised for the stability of the galaxy to let us keep those."
"These mines are within the current disputed territory," Leia pointed out, "And as one of the worlds not inhabited by sentients; they can be negotiated over. The Republic is at a very critical stage. We need it to help stabilize our own faction."
"The Empire was around for more than twenty years before your 'New Republic' was founded," Tyron retorted, "The historical claim stands."
"But the present claims otherwise," Leia replied, her patience being sorely tried, "You barely have any troops left on the planet. The only reason they still are there is we have been more concentrated on the bigger thrusts into your territory."
"I am sure your husband said the same thing on your wedding night," Tyron growled, slowly sitting back down in the chair.
The sexual comment did not go unnoticed. Before Leia could jump in with a nasty retort of her own, Dray jumped in. The older Moff had been the voice of reason the past couple days and had been the only person who had kept the peace talks from completely falling apart.
"That was an unfortunate choice of words," he said, throwing a critical look at the Grand Moff.
"Indeed it was," Ackbar snorted, but it wasn't so much purely out of spite as it was a mask over the humor he felt at the comment.
"But this is not going to help us," Dray pointed out, "We must stick to the topic at hand. I think it would be reasonable to give you Esfandia-"
"No!" Tyron began to growl out in protest.
"IF," Dray pushed forward, overriding his superior, "We get the Roche Asteroids."
"Out of the question," Leia shook her head without preamble.
"And why is that?" Tyron asked, a smirk spreading across his face. The tables were turned.
"The Roche Asteroids are very vital to the Perlemian Trade Route," Leia explained, "Whoever controls them, controls the flow of trade to an eight of the Galaxy."
Luke Skywalker put up a hand and said, "It is a reasonable compromise."
"What?" Leia turned to her brother, murder in her eyes.
Luke took a deep breath. He had kept more or less silent, standing behind Leia as guardian. But, he realized just how finite these negotiations were.
"It is unreasonable to ask them to give up a major mining planet for nothing in return. So what if they control that part of the trade route? They control most of that space anyways. It would be nothing more than a gift tauntaun."
Leia fell silent for a couple seconds. She hated tauntauns. Smelly; the whole lot. The wheels inside her head turned with the carefulness of an entire army on the move. At long last though, she inclined her head and said, "Agreeable."
Tyron's nostrils flared as he grumpily nodded his head, "Fine."
"Politics are such a bore," Ackbar said, strolling by Luke through the Imperial Gardens, a massive hundred acres dedicated on Coruscant to be a massive beauty.
The Imperial Gardens were perhaps the purest thing ever to thrive during Palpatine's reign. Thousands of trees of every variety were there. Flowers of every hue and shade danced in the light. It took over a hundred gardeners to keep the Gardens from getting out of control, but the effort was well worth the time it took.
"Can't stand them much myself either," Luke agreed, "Especially not with those two rancors tearing at each other."
"The Princess will never get the treaty," Ackbar shook his head, his heavy eyelids drooping, "She cannot stomach the peace process."
Luke raised an eyebrow. That was a very interesting observation from his old friend.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Isn't it clear?" Ackbar breathed in, it sounding like water being sucked in through a straw, "She wants to punish the Empire too badly. It clouds her judgment."
Luke sighed, and passed a hand over the blooming flowers nearby. An aroma rose from them, like the sands of Tatooine. Hard and coarse. Yet warm and alive. And memories of smoking bodies and a destroyed farm house. He immediately blocked that image.
"Too much death has passed for it to be washed away by a couple months," Luke was hesitant to acknowledge.
"Too much death," Ackbar agreed.
They both heard at the same time a very harsh and watery cough. They looked at each other and by silent agreement stepped towards the coughing. They rounded a corner, and Moff Dray was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by the most part by leaves and branches. There were no guards around to protect him. A brown paste was strewn in the grass in front of him, and the man trembled as if he was extremely cold. Sweat glistened off of him, and with a massive shiver he nearly fell, stopped only by his arms which he almost didn't throw out in time.
"Your Excellency?" Luke asked, not sure what to do.
"I'm like the Empire," Dray said softly, almost too softly for Luke to hear, even with his Force enhanced hearing, "Dying. I am dying."
Both of the Republic men passed a glance between the two of them. It was quiet obvious Moff Dray was not in his right mind. They knew his condition was something that left much to be desired. And clearly it was affecting him at the moment.
"Moff Dray," Ackbar said, stepping up to him, "Let us take you back, and get you some rest. That will help you."
"Save yourself," Dray mumbled, holding up his hand which was trembling, "I am a dead man."
Then, with that last, Dray's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell the rest of the way to the ground.