One Man, Many Parts
Leia shuffled back a step into a darker patch of shade and completely coincidentally another step away from Kraytrider. Uncle Ben started to turn toward her but huffed a sigh and subsided. Good. She didn't want to talk to him. Not while she was so confused about the galaxy and her place in it.
She peered around the courtyard where the reluctant governor had ushered them after his utter rout at Kraytrider's hands. This little corner, tucked out of the blaze of the suns, provided a small pocket of quiet outside the clamor and tumult. She shifted from one foot to the other, dazed by the rush of uniformed men and armored stormtroopers bustling back and forth without apparent purpose, while the governor strutted ostentatiously among them. If Leia had to guess, she'd say he wasn't supervising his troops so much as posturing to show he wasn't intimidated by Kraytrider. In light of his total capitulation to Kraytrider's demands, it seemed a waste of effort.
The man she had known as Kraytrider stood at the front of their group, concealed by his tan cloak and hood, taking in the busy scene. Leia couldn't tell what held his attention—whether he was merely observing or was waiting for something in particular. Before today, she had thought she understood him to some extent, but after his behavior this morning—the swiftly changing plans, the ruthless actions, the leashed violence—she wondered if she had ever known him at all.
From somewhere amid the chaos a voice called, "Fall in," and the crowd began to sort itself sluggishly into discrete groups. Deciding that none of the activity concerned her, she let her attention wander.
It had already been a completely bewildering morning, and it wasn't even 0930 yet. First, there had been Kraytrider's sudden return. Her nerves were still jangling from shock. What could she say to him after the harrowing revelations of three days ago?
Well, she knew what she wanted to say, but somehow she hadn't been able find the words in the first heat of her outrage.
Then he had thoroughly gotten on her nerves during the following half hour. She had only the broadest idea why Uncle Ben had insisted on tagging along, dragging her in his wake, when Kraytrider had made it clear he did not want them. She would have been happy to stay at the shop if it meant she could continue avoiding him and all the issues he created in her life.
Such as the problem of what to call him. Vader was out of the question. No way. Never. Skywalker was no better. For one thing, she didn't think she was capable of tossing it around casually after so many years of secrecy. But Anakin…It was a stranger's name—one she had first learned during that ghastly conversation three days ago. Somehow, it didn't feel right. She had always thought of her parents as Mom and Dad, but now…She shuddered away from the thought.
"Sloppy," said Cody, the graying man with the heavy scar beside his left eye, folding his arms and gazing across the hubbub. She was less confident of the other men's names, though Kraytrider had made a hurried round of introductions before they set out this morning.
"Natborns!" snorted the one with the salt-and-pepper beard. Hex, maybe? She hadn't realized they were clones until Sergeant Darac had pointed it out, although the resemblance was obvious now. "How'd they pass cadet training?"
"I think the recruiters hold up a mirror in front of them. If it mists, they get issued armor." That was Scratch. He was easy to identify by the big scar across the back of his head.
"Probably." Cody almost grunted the word. "Put me in command for a week and I'd show them a thing or two."
"It certainly is disgraceful," agreed Kraytrider with an abstracted air. "It won't matter, as long as they look Imperial and Semchan says what I tell him to." He had dropped the formal-sounding speech and with it the edge to his bearing.
"He's so demoralized, he won't dare put a toe out of line," said Hex, grinning. "He'd jump off the garrison building if Lord Vader told him to."
"Perhaps."
The strap of the blaster rifle was biting painfully into her uninjured shoulder. She shifted the awkward weight, wishing she could switch it to the other side. The weapon was an unwelcome reminder of the morning's vexations. As if she weren't off kilter enough, her companions' reactions to her injury—accidental though it was—had thrown her still further off balance.
Uncle Ben's concern was only to be expected, she supposed, but Kraytrider's near panic had baffled her. The terror that had creased his face and flared in the Force had been grossly out of proportion to the minor nature of the wound. In contrast, his hands had been steady and soothing. It took her aback—especially after what she had seen in Semchan's office. How could the same man be both so harsh and so gentle?
As for what had happened in the governor's office, she didn't want to think about it. Over the past few days, she had struggled to imagine her brusque but kind friend as Darth Vader—it had seemed so out of keeping with what she knew of him.
Now she had no difficulty believing it.
She was aware of Darth Vader's reputation. She didn't know many details—Uncle Ben had limited her access to news of the Empire—but enough. She reluctantly had to admit her uncle's caginess and secrecy made a lot of sense in light of the truth she had learned. And he had not outright lied to her. With the glaring exception of…
She looked at Kraytrider again, still staring out across the commotion. Yeah. That.
Mostly he had just omitted information. Or not told her anything at all. She quashed the tiny voice that felt a little pity for the burden he had carried. If even half the stories about her dad were true, Uncle Ben had loved him as much as he loved her. Her father's Fall must have broken his heart.
She pushed the thought away. She didn't want to feel pity for Uncle Ben. She wanted to be angry. Angry at the lie that had lain at the center of her life. Angry at her unwanted father for not being a dead hero but a living enigma. Angry at herself for feeling at all conflicted over the truth.
She sighed. Uncle Ben studied her, concern in his eyes. She shook her head. She didn't want to discuss her thoughts.
In the courtyard, a portly, perspiring man in a disheveled khaki uniform faced the soldiers, who had organized themselves into more or less regular lines. There was a low clamor of shuffling and conversation. The red-faced man bellowed, "Attention," and the noise died down in fits and starts.
Semchan stepped to the front of the formation, but positioned himself under the shade provided by the arcade that lined one side of the courtyard. "There has been a regime change on Tatooine," he said in bored tones. "Jabba the Hutt is dead. A provisional council has requested the presence of this garrison as peacekeepers at the podrace today. Your assignment is to provide security and demonstrate the might of the Empire. Conduct yourselves as befits representatives of His Imperial Majesty. Your commanding officers will brief you further."
"What an inspiring speech," muttered a clone with no distinguishing marks.
The man next to him, who had a droopy eyelid and carried a small case, nodded but did not reply.
"Present arms," shouted the portly man, and armor clanked and shifted.
"Is everything a go, Chatter?" Kraytrider asked.
"Yes, si—Yes, my lord," the clone with the case replied. "I tested the splice into Jabba's system a couple of days ago. The broadcast will be planet-wide."
"Very good."
The soldiers were marching onto boxy transports, the tramp of their feet echoing off the adobe walls. Semchan had resumed strutting around the courtyard, and, as far as Leia could tell, accomplishing little beyond getting in the way of his troops.
Cody leaned toward Kraytrider. "I admit I'm a little disappointed you didn't engage in any 'judicious Force choking,' sir. If anyone ever deserved it, he does."
Leia sputtered something between a cough and a wheeze.
Kraytrider slanted a quick glance at her. She steadfastly stared at the stormtroopers now boarding their transports. "Even if that's true, I want to play a role—not slide back into it, Commander." His attention returned to the governor, who seemed to be keeping as much distance as possible between himself and Kraytrider. "Remember that Semchan's cooperation is tenuous but essential to today's plans. And the ones to come after. Don't jeopardize that either in words or actions."
He raised his voice a trifle. "The command speeder won't accommodate all of us. Hitch a ride on one of the other vehicles and meet us outside Jabba's private entrance at the Grand Arena."
The clones snapped salutes and paraded to the nearest transport. Even Leia could see the contrast between their sharp, perfectly synchronized movements and the less-disciplined marching of the stormtroopers.
Kraytrider stepped back so he was beside Leia. "How is your shoulder?"
"Fine."
"I'm sorry it happened—but it should be much better by tomorrow." The weight of his gaze rested heavily on her. It was a relief when he transferred his attention back to the governor.
An uncomfortable silence grew up until Uncle Ben said softly, "That was quite the risky display."
"What do you mean?" Kraytrider's concentration didn't waver from the activity in front of them.
"You were going to choke him with the Force."
"No. I was tempted to choke him, but I didn't."
"You threw a stylus hard enough to carve a gash in his cheek and dent the wall before you crushed it with the Force. You were out of control." Uncle Ben's voice was tight with tension.
"I was not. I admit it was close there, but I never lost control. You think I shouldn't have been angry that he was keeping a slave?"
"I—" Uncle Ben stopped and started again. "Of course not. That's despicable. But terrorizing him with the Force—" He broke off. "Anger leads to the Dark Side."
"It can. But it didn't. And it wouldn't have."
Leia blinked. That was news to her.
Uncle Ben's mouth fell open. "You tried to rip through his mind with the Force, and you're claiming you weren't using the Dark Side?" he almost yelped.
"Keep your voice down. You'll attract attention." Kraytrider scowled across the courtyard. "You were there—I didn't use the Dark Side. And I didn't try to rip through his mind. I used the threat of ripping through his mind to intimidate him into providing the information I needed. It was a bluff. You ought to know. You used bluffs often enough in the war."
"I never threatened to destroy a man's mind with the Force."
"Do you think I could have gotten his cooperation with less extreme measures?"
"I—" Uncle Ben jutted his chin pugnaciously. "Yes."
Leia was pretty sure Uncle Ben was arguing just to be difficult. The admission was galling, but Kraytrider was probably right.
"Did he accede to less extreme measures?" Kraytrider's tone was cold. "The only other option would have been to choke him with the Force—I can imagine the conversation we'd be having if I'd done that."
Uncle Ben, who always was as persistent as a sand vole, refused to concede. "Your threat was excessive."
"For a bluff to work, the threat has to feel real—Negotiator."
The retort silenced Uncle Ben. A peculiar blend of shock and amusement flashed across his face. Under the shadow of his hood, she caught a glimpse of his eyelid twitching as he drew a deep breath in that odd way he often did when he was suppressing laughter. In greatly put upon tones, he grumbled, "You have no finesse."
"Finesse is useless with Semchan's type." Kraytrider finally turned toward Uncle Ben. "What offends you more—my methods or my success?"
Uncle Ben muttered inarticulately, but Leia thought he was a little bit pleased. She wondered why. No one said anything further for a few moments.
"How could you expose Leia to all this?"
Why did Uncle Ben have to drag her into it? She bit her lip and resolutely studied the sand at her feet.
"I didn't want you to bring her—remember? Whose fault is it that she's here?"
Well, that was just rude.
Uncle Ben opened his mouth; Kraytrider cut him off. "This sort of ex post facto examination is one reason I didn't want you along."
In a gesture Leia knew meant he had dug in his heels, Uncle Ben folded his arms, prepared for an argument.
"Don't," Kraytrider said curtly. "This isn't the time or the place. As I told the men, this ruse is fragile. You insisted on butting in, so do your job and keep Leia safe."
She took a step toward him, her own arms folded. "I can take care of myself. I don't need you to—"
"That's enough, Leia," Uncle Ben said, placing a firm hand on her arm.
Kraytrider overrode him. "I expect you can—under normal circumstances. These aren't normal circumstances." He held up a commanding hand. "I realize you don't know what's at stake, and unfortunately there is no time to explain, but I also believe you have the maturity and self-control not to put other people at risk in order to indulge your personal feelings. This isn't the time to prove your independence."
Oh! How unfair of him to look at her with that particular expression full of sympathy and understanding. And it was downright underhanded to appeal to her good character to boot!
"Once this is over," he continued, "you may say whatever you like and I will listen."
She pursed her lips. All morning she had been unbalanced by the quicksilver changes in his Force presence, and at this moment she was dismayed to realize he felt like her old friend Kraytrider, before she had known the dreadful truth. Gruff yet compassionate, he radiated sincerity. She wanted to argue —he deserved an earful—but he had knocked her feet right out from under her. Just as Uncle Ben often did in lightsaber training. She liked the feeling no better then than she did now.
She dropped her arms to her side. "Oh, all right," she grumbled.
"I appreciate your cooperation. Keep your blaster close. Boonta Eve is dangerous—especially for young women. And the podrace—"
"I'll be careful." She spoke stiffly, examining the buckle on the strap of the rifle with single-minded concentration. "But didn't you say we'll be in Jabba's box? It should be pretty safe."
"I'll be in Jabba's box. You'll be staying out of sight."
Her eyes shot to his. "That's not fair! I want to see the race."
"We can't give the Emperor any hint that you exist. There will be other races."
"But—"
"I agree with Anakin," Uncle Ben said in the implacable tone she knew not to argue with.
Leia cast him a betrayed look.
"Will wonders never cease. Obi-Wan Kenobi agrees with me without argument. Maybe we can work together after all." Kraytrider's tone was caustic. Uncle Ben opened his mouth, but before he could speak again, Kraytrider had swept into the courtyard toward Semchan, his cloak billowing behind him.
Uncle Ben snapped his teeth together and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Come along. It appears we're carrying on with this farce." He followed Kraytrider with a swirl of his own worn robes.
Leia gaped for a moment before she scurried after Uncle Ben. Now they were on the same wavelength? Fine. She'd prove to them she could be mature and self-controlled. She wouldn't argue today, but they were going to hear plenty later. Plenty!
The last of the soldiers had boarded the transports, and the giant gates growled open across the way. Kraytrider led them to a black speeder idling outside the gate. It was more elegant than Leia had ever imagined any transportation could be. Although who thought painting a vehicle black in the desert was a good idea? Uncle Ben gestured for her to climb in and slide across the back seat. The air inside was cool and a little humid. How could anyone afford to put water into the air, rather than pull it out? Her estimation of Semchan, low to begin with, dropped another few notches.
As the convoy pulled away from the compound, she discovered that, for all the speeder's luxury, the motor ran with the same roughness every engine picked up in the sandy environment. The journey to the Grand Arena passed in silence. Leia could sense nothing from either Uncle Ben or Kraytrider—both men's mental shields were impenetrable—but Semchan, aggrieved and hostile, made up for their impassivity, bristling in his displeasure. She suspected he was silent not wholly out of fear but also out of resentment at being outmaneuvered by Kraytrider.
Her thoughts returned to the puzzle of Kraytrider. She stole brief glances at him, barely able to make out the profile of his nose beneath the concealing hood. Which was the real man? The reserved shopkeeper? The heroic, nameless Jedi of Uncle Ben's stories? Or the terrifying Sith Lord?
The journey out of town and into the desert seemed interminable, aggravated by the heavy silence in the speeder. Bit by bit, the arena rose out of the rock and sand like a mythical krayt dragon rearing up out of the dunes until it towered over the puny creatures scuttling like sand beetles around it. The Force swirled, already agitated by crowds more densely packed than she had dreamed possible, only to crest in a wave of irritable trepidation as the crowd caught sight of the Imperial convoy.
Leia trembled under the unfamiliar onslaught. Uncle Ben placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, but it was Kraytrider's solid buffer in the Force that enabled her to stiffen her spine again. She shoved against the smothering barrier. She did not need help. She caught a flash of resignation from him before he pulled back, though he maintained the shield. His solicitude incensed her, not least because it was no help at all in resolving the confusion she felt over him.
A curious structure—a bridge between two fat, cylindrical towers—stretched from the midpoint of the stadium to a towering rock formation opposite it. The podracers spread across the course on the other side. The huge engines, secured to the tiny cockpits by flimsy rods, seemed impossibly impractical—and irresistibly intriguing.
The convoy pulled to a halt, and the lead transport lowered its ramp. The clones were the first to debark, striding to take up escort positions beside the command speeder. Under the direction of khaki-clad officers, stormtroopers filed out and formed a cordon along the race course. Sunlight glared off their polished armor. A stronger ripple of apprehension rolled through the crowd, and Leia firmed her shields again.
Kraytrider broke the silence. "We will proceed directly to Jabba's box. Appearance is of utmost importance. Do not hesitate." He stepped out of the speeder.
Semchan waited for the driver to open the rear door but otherwise did not delay in joining Kraytrider and the clones. Leia followed Uncle Ben, trying not to gape at the raucous scene like the farm girl she was. The clamor deafened her, and the odor of hot sand, big engines, and pungent spice assaulted her nose.
She had wanted to watch a podrace for years—fascinated by the big engines and the speed—but Uncle Ben had always refused on the grounds that they were run for Jabba's profit. Now here she was at the biggest race of them all—Uncle Ben had even insisted on coming!—only for her unwanted father to decree she had to stay out of sight. And Uncle Ben—the traitor—had backed him up!
This wasn't the first time Kraytrider's protective streak had irked her, but today resentment augmented her annoyance. He was such a hypocrite! He had accompanied Uncle Ben into actual war zones as a teenager, yet he wouldn't let her watch a podrace.
It was a relief to escape the intensity of suns and sand when they reached the stadium. Kitster Banai waited inside, well out of sight of the crowd. Leia wrinkled her nose; she still couldn't imagine what he and Kraytrider had in common. A relieved smile broke over his face when they entered before he frowned in puzzlement at the governor.
Kraytrider cut him off before he could speak. "Governor Semchan, this is President Banai."
Semchan, like the Core snob he was, made no acknowledgement of the introduction. "Let's get on with this."
Banai opened his mouth. Kraytrider interrupted again. "The governor has come to affirm Imperial support of the Provisional Council and to enforce a peaceful running of the race."
Banai's face cleared, but his hand twitched. Leia might not have thought much of it, except she caught a glimpse of Kraytrider's hand also twitching. Were they signaling each other? Before she could speculate further, President Banai said, "That's good news, Governor. I can hear the crowd growing restless—we should make the announcement before anything gets out of hand."
"Yes. I was about to say that." The governor made no effort to disguise his impatience. "I believe my men are all in place now. Let us proceed." He brushed past Kit, down a dim corridor that was lit only by the daylight filtering in from the archway behind them.
Kraytrider paused a moment beside Cody. "Commander, detail two men to accompany us. The rest of you stand guard down here."
Cody gestured to Hex and Scratch, who fell into step behind Uncle Ben. Leia followed them along the rough-hewn passageway, which stank of spice and something sickishly foul she couldn't identify. A hurried glance back showed Cody and Dash standing on either side of the doorway. Chatter—the one with the black case—had disappeared.
The corridor dead-ended at the doors to an enormous turbolift. Semchan and Banai were already aboard. Leia, the last to enter, wound up having to stand uncomfortably close to Kraytrider, but he paid her no attention, focused on the governor and the president. The lift screeched to life.
"Do you have any questions about what you are to say, Colonel?"
"No." After a brief hesitation, he added, "Lord Vader." His face pinched in on itself when he shifted his attention to the president. Leia had heard the term looking down his nose, but she had never expected to see someone actually do it. "I will comply with Lord Vader's directives in regard to supporting your administration and providing security, so long as your government maintains its Imperial obligations. At the point you breach those obligations, the Empire will assert its right to assume direct oversight of this system."
"I understand the law." Banai rocked on his feet nervously, though his voice was steady. "It won't be necessary."
"One last thing, Governor," Kraytrider added as the lift jerked to a halt. "I will address the crowd myself, but do not mention me in your remarks. I would remind you I am officially dead and must remain so—for the time being."
"As you wish." Semchan was off the lift before the doors had fully opened.
"Stand guard here," Kraytrider ordered the clones.
"Yes, my lord."
The governor had nearly reached the end of the corridor before the rest of the party had exited the lift. Kraytrider and Banai walked toward the bright patch of sunshine at a more moderate pace, Leia and Uncle Ben in their wake.
"Why is the governor here?" Banai hissed.
"I told you—I'll explain later."
Banai rubbed the back of his neck with a trembling hand. "Ani, I'm terrified. I'm going to foul this up worse than a pit droid in a 'racer engine."
Kraytrider leaned a little toward him. "It will be all right, Kit. Just give your speech the way we practiced."
"Easy for you to say." The other man drew to a halt and sank onto a nearby barrel. "I'm a shopkeeper. I don't know anything about politics or public speaking. How did I end up as president?"
"You think I would be better?" Kraytrider scoffed. Leia barely restrained a snort. "You're exactly what Tatooine needs. Honest, upright, with no secrets."
"No secrets? I run a freedom trail for slaves on a planet controlled by the Hutts."
Kraytrider chuckled. Leia stared at him. The sound was rough and it caught at the end, but that failed to mar the amusement it conveyed. She was astounded that a man who could display the ruthlessness she had seen that morning could laugh so freely. So joyously. "True. Very well—no disreputable secrets—like mine."
"But—are you sure I should make the announcement?" Banai scrubbed his hands over his face.
Furtively, Kraytrider turned his head toward the archway where Semchan was ostentatiously fiddling with his cape and hat before placing a hand on Banai's shoulder. "I'm sorry. This can't come from me. If it does, it will appear to be a power play by Darth Vader or an attempt to rehabilitate the Jedi. You're going to be fine. Picture Lalla and Theec listening somewhere out in the desert and talk to them."
The president closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "Okay."
Uncle Ben touched Leia's elbow, startling her out of her absorption in the two men's conversation.
"Let's get comfortable," he said, guiding her toward a nearby group of crates. "Podraces last several hours."
She glowered at him. "They'd pass faster if I could watch." She looked back to see Kraytrider offer Banai a hand to pull him to his feet.
Uncle Ben had the gall to laugh. "Another time, maybe." He glanced toward the two men as well and laughed again. "It seems you truly are your father's daughter in more ways than one."
Her scowl deepened. What a terrible thing to say! She plopped onto a crate and crossed her arms, straining to hear what Banai was saying.
"Ani—your mom would be proud of you if she knew."
Leia lost her scowl in her surprise. No one had ever mentioned Kraytrider's mother before. With a small shock, she realized the woman would be her grandmother.
"In spite of…everything?" Kraytrider's voice caught.
Banai pulled him closer and grasped his shoulder with his other hand. "Yes. You're making things right."
Kraytrider bowed his head. "Thank you, Kit." He squeezed Banai's hand and made to step back, but the other man held on. He tapped his thumb twice against the top of Kraytrider's hand before he released their grip. Kraytrider lifted his head, and under the shadow of his hood, his mouth twitched upward fleetingly.
Voice hushed, Banai intoned what sounded like an invocation. "I call upon the Seven—the Desert, the Great Mother, the Two Brothers, and the Three Sisters— to bear witness to this, the day of our liberty."
"And to guard our freedom now and hereafter," Kraytrider whispered in turn. He cocked his head as though he had heard something. "It's time."
He drew himself up and the mantle of Vader dropped back onto his shoulders. Leia hadn't noticed the change in his bearing until he reverted to the imposing posture. He led Banai to the governor and the three men stepped out into the sunlight.