Chapter 4. The best laid plans…
The first day of peace talks greets her with a splitting headache and an overwhelming need to get a cup of strong caf, or a stim shot, or both, since sound sleep seems to be an elusive and rare commodity these days. Last night though, instead of kaleidoscopic images of future, it was the past that kept her trapped in a maze of pain and a burning need for justice, constricting her chest, and taking the air from her lungs. To think that mere two hours of dozing off could be so draining, Leila briefly wonders if simply staying in that hall with Thrawn would have been a lesser evil, and the thought is so ridiculous that she cannot suppress a snicker.
As she starts braiding her hair in a traditional crown braid, she mentally goes over her plan for the day. Deflect, delay, pretend, let Mon believe that for all her ardent opposition to these peace talks, she has finally listened to the voice of reason. Let the Imperials believe that all she wants is more bargaining power, and an outcome that allows the New Republic to save face. She needs to buy time, five days, at most.
"There are many ways to lead, Leia. You just have to find yours," as always when she is in distress, her father's voice in her mind calms her nerves. He would understand her choice, surely, he would. Yet, even as anxiety fades away and she dons her mask for the day – an impenetrable, composed expression that, she hopes, hides truth and tension well – a nagging guilt for going behind Mon's back remains.
Leia's fingers that have been deftly, almost automatically braiding her heavy tresses, suddenly freeze mid-motion. A crown braid would be appropriate, it's already done to perfection, years of practice have made the ritual almost as natural as breathing.
She looks in the mirror, fighting a sudden impulse.
The lets it down and starts rebraiding, weaving a different pattern, no less intricate, and much less familiar since she has not allowed herself to wear it before, for a small, silly part of her has irrationally believed that it would make what happened more real. As if a gaping void she has inside is not real enough.
Thinner braids, twisted rather than properly braided, crossing over loose strands, one over the forehead, others hidden and tied at the back, constricting heavy tresses in a bun. It hurts her temples and the base of her neck, but it is supposed to, internal anguish matching physical.
Most of the people she will have to deal with today will not understand her small act of rebellion, but it feels right. The style takes longer to finish, so she joins the New Republic delegation good ten minutes later than expected. Mon notices Leia's late arrival, as well as a change of hairstyle, but doesn't comment, too caught up in a debate with Grand Moff Randd.
As both delegations enter the Pinnacle Room, Grand Admiral Thrawn passes her and whispers, "If I haven't mentioned it yesterday, I am sorry for your loss, Senator."
His piercing red eyes are on her hair, recognising the Alderaani mourning braid for what it is.
Leia is torn between surprise, for he is, indeed, much more perceptive than she has given him credit for, dangerously so, and an irrational desire to accidentally stomp his foot for referring to their last night conversation. He does so in a hushed whisper, true, but in this damn place even walls have ears. At the end she does neither, just nods and walks past him into the room, head held high.
Their meeting goes… well, exactly as one would expect.
By noon, while she would not go as far as to say that she wants to shoot Commandant Hux or Admiral Sloane, their condescending tone is getting on her nerves, so Leia makes a point to interrupt whenever they start proclaiming the glory of the Empire. By mid-day, she starts regretting not bringing a blaster with her (not of her own accord, it was a strict security stipulation for all face-to-face leadership meetings). To take her mind off this irrational impulse, Leia goes on to twist her comlink between her fingers every time the two talk, thankfully, her chair, too large for her lithe frame, allows her to discreetly hide her hands behind the armrests.
"Five more days," she repeats like a mantra in her mind.
Throughout the entire day, Grand Admiral Thrawn remains uncharacteristically silent, preferring to split his time between observing others, making notes or reading something on his datapad. At one point, in middle of yet another long list of Imperial demands, this time delivered by Grand Moff Randd, Thrawn stands up and leaves to answer a comlink call – a glaring affront, even by his standards.
By late evening, they all finally adjourn for the day, and Leia cannot get out of the Pinnacle room soon enough. Though logically the palace should hold no trace of Palpatine any longer, the chamber makes her anxious, especially after a long exposure. There is no rational way to put it, but it is as if it's filled with different flows of air fighting for dominance. Hidden from the view, barely noticeable at first, by the end of day they become so powerful that she feels them with every cell in her body.
Leia mutters a rushed goodnight to Mon and the rest of the New Republic emissaries, and walks back to her quarters faster than strictly necessary or appropriate, but she cannot wait to be alone to call Luke and check up on their plan. Halfway through a corridor, she comes to a halt, checks the pockets of her dress, and bites back a curse. Her comlink is missing, probably she forgot to put it back in her pocket after one of the times she used it as a distraction during the day.
When Leia reluctantly comes back, the space is blissfully empty and silent. Dusk has settled in, but darkness is a relative concept in the capital – massive arched windows frame bright, motley lights of Coruscant. This city never actually gets dark, it wears twilight as a semi-transparent veil, thousands of skyscapers, speeders, ad screens are shimmering in the midnight-blue sky, illuminating the deserted chamber.
"We seem to be in a habit of meeting at night."
For kriff's sake! Leia almost jumps on the spot in the most undignified manner, and only years of royal upbringing prevent the curse from actually slipping from her lips.
Thrawn is facing one of the arched windows on the other side of the room, hands crossed behind his back. How does he know it's her without even a glance in her direction? Before she can solve the mystery, he turns around, and reaches for something in his pocket:
"I believe you are looking for this?"
He is holding her comlink in his outstretched hand, leaving Leia no choice but step towards him to take it back. Their fingers touch for a second, and she is startled by the coolness of his skin. A wise course of action would be to leave, but curiosity gets the better of her, as always.
"You've been strangely quiet today," although you are the only one who actually had the right to call the tune, given you changed the course of the entire war, she doesn't say it, but the thought has been bothering her for a while. "No demands, no conditions?"
"And what would you expect? The conquering of worlds, the final defeat of the Rebellion, the re-establishment of the glory that was once the Empire's New Order?"
Leia blinks, surprised and a bit thrown off balance, because yes, that's exactly what she would have expected an Imperial Grand Admiral to say, scratch that, it's almost word by word what Commandant Hux or Admiral Sloane said this morning, reeling her up. Yet, coming from his lips now, in his seemingly impassive tone mixed with a touch of sarcasm, it sounds… oh, so cliched, that she is suddenly amused. Leia has seen her fair share of power-hungry manipulators, fanatics and sociopaths among moffs, imperial high command, even at court, yet the man… well, the Chiss in front of her, does not quite fall into either category, and it's disorienting. Pride and stubbornness, however, would not let her admit it out-loud. After all, they all tend to show their true colors sooner or later.
"Something along these lines, yes."
"There is nothing more dangerous for a strategist, or a leader", he gestures in her direction, "than clinging to preconceived notions and certainties, they tend to blind one to reality."
"I would say certainties, as well as principles and honor are essential for a leader."
"I am not disputing the latter, Senator, the former one, though, is mistakenly considered a virtue whereas in reality it's nothing but a justification for prejudice and mental lethargy."
"You expect me to believe you're willing to actually strike a peace deal rather crush any opposition?"
"Stability is not possible with a conflict shimmering underneath a tranquil exterior, wouldn't you say?"
There it is again, a certain tone in his voice that makes her feel unsettled, as if he is studying her, these impossible eyes looking through the cracks and the façade, so intently, as if he knows, sees something that she herself does not.
"I would say that an Imperial war lord seeking peace is a contradiction in terms."
"That might depend on the underlying cause of peace."
Before she can find a fault or a hidden threat on his argument, he goes on, "I could, of course, have opted to join the chorus today, but my time has been better spent on more pressing matters. Tell me, Senator, what does it say about a leader's honor if remnants of the New Republic fleet are secretly regrouping in the Corellian sector?"
The question sways her off her feet with the power of a turbolaser shot. Stars, how? Leia feels as if the walls are closing in on her, while he continues, not an ounce of surprise or even anger in his voice:
"If I am not mistaken, General Skywalker is leading the charge of this new resistance, aiming to arrive on Coruscant in five days for one last stand between the Empire and the New Republic?"
"You know?" Stupid, of course he does, Leia mentally slaps herself for stating the obvious. She is not used to it, to someone other than Mon having an upper hand in an argument with her…
"It is an interesting plan, Senator, inherently reckless," there is something in the way he emphasizes the adverb that doesn't sit well with her, "a bit too obvious, and I would imagine, not approved by your high command, but not without merit and ingenuity. I presume that it is you who deserves the credit for the whole operation, and General Skywalker for the execution, of course."
"If you know, then why…"
Why haven't you warned the other Imperials? Why haven't you called off the talks? There is a dozen of why's on her mind, but before she can decide which one bothers her most, Thrawn turns back to the window, and goes on, looking at Coruscanti skyline:
"I've asked Commodore Faro and the Eleventh fleet to join General Skywalker and his forces in the sector on a… good will visit, Senator. She should be there any moment now, so let's decide, whether they will engage, or not."
Just like that, it all suddenly falls into place. That's why he was preoccupied with his datapad and comlink throughout the day. She doesn't have time to warn Luke, he will not make it out of there in time, the full force of the Eleventh fleet is simply too much for their hastily patched together resistance to tackle.
"Eight Imperial I-class Star Destroyers, thirty class II destroyers, Sith knows how many Tie Defenders and stormtroopers seem like an awful lot to send on a goodwill visit?"
"No, it's just an awful lot of goodwill. Senator, it would not have been necessary if you haven't come up with this reckless idea in the first place. Blaming me for just responding is hypocritical at best."
She knows it, but the voice of reason, calling her out in this measured and captivating cadence with the slight accent, is the last thing that she wants to hear. Yet the voice persists, cutting through her frantic thoughts, it puts a mirror to reflect to her best intentions, only now she sees herself from the other side, and while the twisted image has nothing to do with her reality, it's possibly real, from his point of view.
"I can, if you prefer, break the news to the Chancellor that the peace she is supporting is now of the brink of collapse because her side is already violating the terms of the truce?"
She digs her nails into her palms, frantically trying to work out an angle, a solution, only… there is none, she has walked right into it, and dragged Luke and the New Republic as well.
"What do you want?"
"I've been told, quite a few times, that one cannot simply ask for trust, trust must be earned. It would be wise for you to reflect on this, if the talks were to continue. It may serve us all, if we pretend this never happened, and if the master Jedi joins this illustrious gathering sometime soon. This place certainly can use some good will at the moment."
There it is again, a hint of sarcasm cloaked in a seemingly serious tone, if she weren't so preoccupied trying to decide if she can trust Thrawn's promise or not, she'd appreciate the pun as well.
"If nothing else, it was a decisive plan, Senator, you certainly made my day interesting, let's learn from it, and continue on."
Somehow, the fact that Thrawn is being gracious rather than gloating, that he has offered a fairly easy way-out from the hole she has almost dug herself into, is not helping her conscience. He… he doesn't fit the mold, and she has a feeling she may have misjudged him. Just a little bit.
Leia fixes her eyes on the Coruscanti sky, not trusting herself to speak or look at him, and yet desperately wanting to say something to move on.
"Ah, and Senator Organa?" Thrawn seems to be reading her mind, "There is no need to resort to shooting, my credits are on day 11, I believe, yours are on day 9, don't spoil a strategic win over such a trivial reason."
She frowns, not quite sure what he is referring to. Confusion is probably evident in her face, and Thrawn adds:
"The bet, Senator, I still intend to win. You can, however, re-program protocol droids to serve Spiran caf tomorrow, Commandant Hux is infamously allergic to it."
Against her better judgement, she laughs, possibly the second surreal evening in tow is getting its toll on her. At least, it's definitely challenging her preconceived notions and certainties.
Author's note
May the Fourth be with you and Happy Revenge of the Sixth ;) both sides and all…
As always, all mistakes are mine, so pls DM if you see any ;)