Precipice by shadowsong26
Part 4: Commander
Commander: Chapter 8
They had made six years' worth of slow, careful progress, of gradually building a network of sympathetic Senators and planetary leaders. The proof of it was there, if one knew where to look and made the effort; but sometimes it felt like they weren't actually accomplishing anything, or gaining any ground.
Bail knew that wasn't true-comparing where they were now, in terms of reach and allies, to where they were even a year ago proved that. But at the same time, Palpatine was still in power, and nothing in the near future seemed likely to change it. For all the progress they had made, most of their actual accomplishments were still mere potential; laying groundwork that wouldn't pay off for years to come.
Today was supposed to be different. Their plan for today-making contact with the little princess-was supposed to be something that felt like a tangible gain, even if it wasn't any more overt or immediately effective than anything else. But it was supposed to be a quantifiable good, one that he and Padme could hold on to on the (all too frequent) days when it felt like every step forward meant at least another step back.
But things had gone on a tangent that, in hindsight, they probably should have seen coming.
Bail had gotten sidetracked-trapped in a conversation with one of Wilhuff Tarkin's proteges, then with the Grand Moff himself; and Padme had been similarly busy, with enemies and allies and people they were trying to win over. By the time they'd broken free, Luke had slipped away and it was too late to act as planned.
Still, contact had been made, and Princess Lavinia had, from everything Padme had told him, responded well to Luke. But, again-a step forward, a step back; because for as much potential gain as this could give them, there was also a serious potential risk.
And now the question Bail had to answer was, how much of an impact did this unexpected change of plans really have? And was it important enough to risk a message to the Jedi? If only to get an assessment for exactly how much risk this posed to the protections woven around Luke, the idea was...tempting.
On the other hand-well, it wasn't enough for a face-to-face meeting. That much, at least, he was certain of. And it could probably wait until next week, when the tension from Empire Day had dissipated. Given that it wasn't anything his friends could easily act on, that might be better anyway. Besides, Padme would absolutely include this in her next letter. Maybe that would be enough.
Then again, Bail was, technically, the interface between the Jedi and their Senate allies, since Padme was watched too closely and Mon hadn't been there. If there was an official message or update to pass, which this might well be, it should come from him. Especially since, if he chose to use it, he had a more direct way to reach out than Padme did.
The problem was, each time he made contact presented a not-insignificant risk to all involved. And, since he was that interface, it was up to him to decide in each situation if the news was worth the risk.
He turned that over in his head for a moment, but still found himself unable to decide. He needed advice, and there was really only one person he could turn to. He checked the time, and ran a few quick mental calculations-it was late in Aldera City, but Breha would still be up, even if Winter was long since asleep. And talking to his family, despite the fact that he couldn't actually explain the problem, usually helped him gain some perspective when he was faced with decisions like this one.
As he'd hoped, Breha answered almost immediately. It looked like she was halfway through getting ready for bed; her hair was down and soft around her face.
He already felt himself relaxing, just seeing her.
"Hi."
She smiled, and it lit her in a way that he could never describe other than-her smile could light the entire galaxy. "Bail, I'm so glad you called."
"I'm sorry I didn't check in earlier," he said. He tried to call home at least once a day, but sometimes-well, things got hectic here. "But I figured you'd still be awake, and I wanted to hear your voice."
She nodded. "Winter's already asleep," she said. "I just checked on her. She'll be sorry she missed you."
"I am, too," he said. "But-I confirmed everything, and I'll definitely be coming home sometime next week," he said.
"Wonderful," she said. "Winter will be happy to hear it. I am, too. We had the parade today, and she made sure to tell me how disappointed she was that Daddy wasn't there."
He laughed a little. "Oh, I have to go to one here tomorrow. It won't be any fun without her, though."
"I'll tell her you said that," Breha said, still smiling. But then she paused, her expression turning serious. "I...saw some of the released images from the event you attended earlier today. Doesn't Lord Specter usually attend these things?"
Ah, yes. The other critical question; and another thing that had thrown him and Padme off track and left the opening Luke had all too innocently taken.
"He does," Bail confirmed, uneasy all over again at the thought. He didn't like not knowing where Specter was; that usually meant a bloodbath in the making. Which was probably why Breha was asking; for all her carefully-guarded plausible deniability, she knew more than enough about Darth Specter to follow news of him very closely. Bail had had his staff carefully combing official and unofficial press reports from areas with likely targets ever since he'd realized the Sith Lord had left the planet, either for individual assassinations or a wholesale slaughter. Nothing had come up yet.
Then again, he didn't exactly expect them to find anything. Not in that direction. Not when there was every indication-or at least every one he knew how to read-that Specter's trip was unofficial. Spontaneous. Possibly even unauthorized.
That, he knew, was something that did require a message to the Jedi, and he had in fact had one left at a dead drop when he'd checked a few hours ago to see if the code keys General Skywalker was acquiring this week had been delivered yet.
"Hm," Breha said. She still looked troubled. "Well, I'm sure you'll hear of him sooner than I will."
"Probably," Bail agreed, and sighed. "The Emperor's daughter was at the event, though. Perhaps Specter simply didn't want to be upstaged." It wasn't true, and they both knew it wasn't true, but it would hopefully provide some cover with any eavesdroppers and was a decent segue into what he actually wanted to talk about.
"I saw," Breha said. "I thought she did very well, considering how young she is."
"She did," he agreed. Better than Winter or even Luke would have handled an event like that at three years old, and both his daughter and Padme's son were remarkably patient, well-behaved children.
When they wanted to be, anyway.
"Did you get a chance to speak with her?" Breha asked.
He shook his head. "No, I didn't. Luke Naberrie managed to slip off and meet her, though. He seems to have decided to be her friend."
Comprehension shone in his wife's eyes, and she nodded once. She knew exactly who Luke was, and exactly why this was dangerous- that part, she'd known right from the start. "He does have a habit of doing that," she said carefully. She glanced off to one side, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?"
And, if she was being that direct, it meant she was certain their call was untapped, clear of any danger other than someone physically listening in on one end or the other.
"I don't know," Bail admitted. Because, on the one hand, this put a lot more focus on Luke than Padme wanted, and there was the outside chance that that attention could lead their enemies to their other secrets-Polis Massa, Dagobah, Leia…
On the other hand, Luke approaching the princess came across as-much less suspicious. As something natural, even. In part because it was, of course; and in part because, however else they might have tried to explain it, Bail and Padme were professional politicians. Any attempts on their part to befriend the Emperor's daughter would be assumed to have an ulterior motive.
Which, as much as he hated to admit it, wasn't...entirely wrong. Yes, their primary goal was to protect her, to offer her an alternative, positive influence in her life. A way out, even, if she ever chose to take it. To save her, one way or another, from her father.
But Bail would be lying if he claimed that the possibility of cultivating a source with that level of...proximity, anyway, if not true access or influence, hadn't at least occurred to them.
Not that they had been planning on anything overt, of course-it wasn't fair to the child, and it was too dangerous for everyone involved. But once a relationship was there, then maybe…
Well. It was a moot point, anyway. Luke had made the approach, which would keep things altruistic. Or as altruistic as anything on Imperial Center ever was.
Of course, the risks with Luke were different, and in most ways greater, which brought him back to the central question.
"I'm leaning towards good," he finally said. "But-I really don't know, Breha."
She nodded. "So we might need a contingency plan." One to extract and hide Luke, and probably Padme, and-who knew who else might get caught up in that mess.
"Yes." She probably had some portion of one put together already-plausible deniability or not, Breha knew enough to plan ahead.
"All right," she said. "Keep me posted on this, please?"
"I will," he promised. So her advice boiled down to watch and wait, and avoid overreacting.
Which was probably the best thing he could do. Treating this like something more than a warm-hearted, friendly little boy reaching out to another lonely child would only bring people to wonder why.
"Thank you," she said, then leaned back again, controlling her expression and lightening her tone. "I should probably let you go," she said, apologetically. "You have a parade to go to all by yourself tomorrow."
"And I'm sure you have an early day," he agreed. "I'll call again tomorrow. Earlier, so I can say hello to Winter, too."
"Good," she said, and smiled. "And we'll see you next week?"
"Yes," he said. "I'll send the specific schedule once I finish ironing it out."
She nodded. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he said. "Good night."
"Good night." She blew him a kiss, then leaned forward, shutting off her comm and leaving his office in shadow.
He sighed, and rubbed at his temples. He would hold off on contacting the Jedi about the potential situation with Luke and the princess, at least until next week, or if something else changed. And maybe it would all turn out all right. They couldn't ask for a better positive influence in her life than Luke Naberrie, after all. And he and Padme would still be there, if a step removed, if she needed more protection than Luke could give her.
As for the situation with Specter…
There wasn't much of anything he could do, other than what he was doing already. Leave messages where he could, and look for a trail, and do his best to help the survivors clean up afterwards.
It had been-another day of progress that didn't really feel like progress. Two steps forward, maybe, but still at least a step back.
But he still believed-he had to believe-that, in the end, the steps forward would outnumber the steps back. In the end, the progress would add up to something real.
Even if it took another six years to see it.
So. Specter was dead.
This was not precisely a surprise for Darth Sidious-his late apprentice was obedient and eager to please. Very little would have made him ignore his orders, abandon his post, and rush off without permission. The ripple through the Force when he actually expired was mere confirmation for what he had expected from the moment Specter had left the planet.
Well, the boy had served him adequately for a time. But Sidious was far better prepared for this eventuality than he had been the last time he'd found himself without an apprentice. He had a list of acceptable candidates at the ready. And his selection-an adult this time; seasoned and strengthened and embittered by over a decade of hard labor in the mines-was, by now, already on his way to a private location, where Sidious could tame him at his leisure.
Irritating, to have to spend a year or two without an active enforcer in the field, but not the near-disaster that Skywalker slipping through his fingers six years ago had presented.
And his daughter's first public appearance had gone almost exactly to plan. Senator Amidala's brat approaching her had been an unexpected bonus-providing him with a new conduit of information on the activities of dissidents in the Senate. Largely passive, at least until she was a little older, but a conduit nonetheless. A promising start, which augured the long-term success of that particular experiment.
Overall, it had hardly been an unproductive week. Yes, Specter's death was an inconvenience, but apprentices could be replaced. In the end, all he had really lost was time.