THE BLACK FLEET CRISIS #3 - TYRANTS_TEST Read online

  He did not know how to talk about what had passed between them, or what

  might come of it, but she did not ask that of him. She allowed him to

  stay in the restful comfort of the circle of their mutual embrace,

  making no demands, expecting no explanations. He returned that

  courtesy in kind.

  It had been much the same the night before. Loneliness, grief,

  compassion, and a previously undiscovered hunger for a touch that felt

  like acceptance had brought them to the brink. But by silent mutual

  consent, something had been held back. Neither of them had asked for

  or offered their deepest intimacies. And, unpressured, each had

  allowed the other to enjoy the novelty of not being alone.

  They lay together in the sleeper, awake, aware that the other was

  awake, and aware that the other was aware. But for a long time,

  neither of them spoke. Luke barely trusted the privacy of his own

  thoughts, and didn't dare open himself to reach out for hers.

  "Your turn," she murmured at last." What?"

  "To talk about your father."

  For some reason Luke did not fully understand, the familiar inner wall

  of resistance did not snap into place.

  "I don't talk about my father," he said, but it was a rote refusal,

  without conviction.

  Even though she must have heard the opening, she did not try to cajole

  him into a reversal or probe for the exceptions. "I understand," she

  said, showing a sympathetic smile. Then she turned onto her back,

  looking up into the holographic galaxy. "It was hard for me."

  That small physical retreat was enough to draw Luke out. "It's not as

  though there's much I could say, anyway," he said, rolling onto his

  side and propping his head on one hand. "Almost everything I know,

  everyone seems to know--and almost everything I'd like to know, no one

  seems to know. I don't remember my father, or my mother, or my

  sister.

  I don't remember ever living anywhere but Tatooine."

  Akanah nodded understandingly. "Did you ever wonder whether those

  memories might have been blocked?"

  "Blocked? Why?"

  "To protect you. Or to protect Leia and Nashira.

  Young children don't know when they're saying too much or asking the

  wrong question."

  Luke shook his head. "I've deep-probed Leia for unremembered memories

  of our mother. If there was a block there, I'm sure I'd be able to see

  it."

  "Unless your own block prevented you from recognizing it," she

  suggested. "Whoever did this might have anticipated that you would

  have the gifts of the Jedi."

  "Ben could have seen that," Luke said uncertainly.

  "Or Yoda."

  "If you wanted, I could--" "But what possible danger could those

  memories be to me now?" Luke asked, trampling her offer before she

  could make it. "No, I think there's a simpler explanation.

  I think we were just too young. Leia's memories may not even be

  real.

  They might be something she invented to fill that empty space you spoke

  of, so long ago that she can't remember doing it. An imagined memory

  looks just like a real one."

  "And their comfort value is usually very high," Akanah said. "Luke,

  when did you become aware of the empty spaces?"

  "I don't know. Much later than Leia did, anyway.

  Kids say things--you start realizing your family is different."

  Luke frowned, his eyes focusing somewhere far beyond the bunk. "My

  uncle and aunt said almost nothing about my father, and even less about

  my mother."

  "Maybe that was to protect you, too."

  "Maybe," Luke said. "But I always felt that my uncle disapproved of

  them, and resented getting stuck with the obligation of raising me.

  Not my aunt--I think she always wanted children. I don't know why they

  didn't have any of their own."

  "It sounds like she only got her way when it was what he wanted,

  too."

  "I guess that's more true than not," Luke said after a moment's

  reflection. "But she never complained where I could hear it, or let

  you know that they'd had a fight and that she'd lost."

  "Self-sacrificing," said Akanah. "For the good of the family, for the

  peace of the household--" "Owen was a hard man," Luke said.

  "Hardworking, hard to talk to, hard to know, hard to move. When I

  picture him, he always looks annoyed."

  "I'm all too familiar with the type," said Akanah.

  "Your aunt probably didn't dare cross him too often, or too openly."

  "She took my side sometimes. But mostly I think she tried to keep us

  from colliding head-on--especially the last couple of years."

  "Was she happy?"

  "I used to think so."

  "But--" "I think she deserved better than the way she lived--the way

  she died." Luke shook his head. "It's been harder to forgive my

  father for what he did to them than for almost anything else."

  "Harder to forgive, or harder to understand?"

  Luke answered with a weary smile. "I wish it were harder to

  understand. But I know how tempting it is to simply bend someone to

  your will, or break them and push them aside. All of the whims and

  wishes and wants that we carry around inside--I have the power to

  fulfill mine. So I find I have to be careful about what I let myself

  want."

  "How do you do that?"

  "I have Yoda's example--he led a very simple life, and Wanted for very

  little. My father walked a different road. I try to let him be an

  example to me, too," said Luke. "The impulse to take control--to

  impose your will on the universe--has to be resisted. Even with the

  best of intentions, it leads to tyranny--into Darth Vader reborn."

  "Control is a transitory illusion," said Akanah.

  "The universe bends us to its purposes--we do not bend it to ours."

  "That may be so," said Luke. "But in the moment of trying, people

  suffer horribly and die needlessly.

  That's why the Jedi exist, Akanah--why we carry weapons and follow a

  path of power. It's not out of any lust for fighting, or for our own

  benefit. The Jedi exist to neutralize the power and the will of those

  who would be tyrants."

  "Is that what you were taught, or what you've taught your

  apprentices?"

  "Both. It was one of the First Principles of the Chu'unthor academy,

  and I made it one of the First Principles at the Yavin praexeum."

  "And what binds the Jedi to that end?"

  "Because it's necessary," said Luke. "There's a moral imperative--the

  one who can act, must act."

  "It would be easier to trust you with the responsibility you seek if so

  many Jedi hadn't strayed from your high ethic," Akanah said. "Jedi

  training doesn't seem to prepare a candidate well for the temptations

  of the dark side. You have lost students, just as your mentors did."

  "Yes," said Luke. "I almost lost myself."

  "Is it always to be so? Are the temptations beyond resisting?"

  "I don't have an answer for that," Luke said, shaking his head. "Is it

  how Jedi are chosen, how we are taught--a flaw in the candidates, or a

  flaw in the disciplines-" "Perhaps there is no flaw," said Akanah.
r />   "Perhaps some piece is still missing--something you have not yet

  rediscovered."

  "Perhaps. Or perhaps it will always be a struggle.

  The dark side is seductive--and very powerful." He hesitated.

  "I fought Vader with all I had, and still barely escaped with my

  life.

  Han saved me at Yavin, Lando saved me at Bespin, and Ariakin saved me

  on the Emperor's Death Star. I never defeated my father. The deepest

  cut I ever gave him was in refusing to join him."

  Luke lay back on the sleeper and looked up at the stars.

  "I think the next deepest was when I forgave him."

  The viceroy's personal aide, Eri Palle, ushered Proctor Dar Bille into

  the blood garden where Tal Fraan and Nil Spaar were already waiting.

  Dar Bille offered his neck to his old friend, then accepted Tal Fraan's

  offer to him.

  "Darama," said Dar Bille, "I hear it proclaimed that your breedery

  gloriously affirms your vigor."

  "Fifteen nestings, all full and ripening," said Nil

  Spaar. "The scent of it is intoxicating. I had to have my tenders

  neutered in order that they remember their work."

  "Your blood has always been strong, Nil Spaar, going back to when Kei

  Chose you--but it has never been stronger than it is now."

  "I would rather have truth than flattery from my old friends," said Nil

  Spaar. "Those who can remember the glory of our uprising are already

  too few in number.

  What news of my flagship?"

  "Pride of Yevetha is fully ready," said Dar Bille.

  "The holding chambers for the hostages have been completed, and the

  hostages are being loaded this very day.

  What is the prospect for more fighting? Has Jip Toorr reported from

  Preza ?"

  "He has," said Nil Spaar. "His report is the reason I called for

  you.

  The vermin have not bared their necks or withdrawn. She who claims

  honor in her own name still defies us. In the last three days, the

  vermin fleet grew by at least eighty vessels. It has now dispersed

  into the boundary regions of the All, and our vessels there have lost

  contact with many of these intruders."

  "I am greatly surprised that they value the lives of their own species

  less than they valued the lives of the other vermin at Preza," said Dar

  Bille. "Perhaps we do not hold whom we think we hold. Could Tig

  Peramis have deceived you, in league with the Princess?"

  "No," said Nil Spaar. "Han Solo is Leia's mate and consort, and these

  are relations of great meaning to the vermin."

  "Perhaps she does not realize that we hold him," said Tal Fraan.

  "Perhaps she does not realize that her actions place him at risk.

  Uncertainty has not made her cautious. Perhaps it is time to show them

  our hostages."

  Nil Spaar made a gesture that said the suggestion was premature. "Tell

  me what you have learned studying the prisoners."

  "They are uncomfortable with blood, even their own weak blood," said

  Tal Fraan. "The aversion is strong enough to be a distraction, even in

  challenging

  moments. Beyond that, they have provided confirmation of suspicions I

  already held."

  "Indulge me and voice them."

  "They form alliances as child to parent--one world claiming the

  protection of a thousand," Tal Fraan said.

  "They are divided, but they do not see it. They live in the long

  shadow of their own disharmony, and do not know to seek the light."

  "Is that their greatest weakness?"

  That was a more dangerous question, and Tal Fraan hesitated before

  answering. "No," he said.

  "Their greatest weakness is that they are impure. The strong do not

  slay the weak, and the weak do not yield their place to the strong.

  The pale vermin think of self first and kinship last."

  "And you find the evidence of this where?"

  "It is why eight thousand Imperial slaves still serve us, and why these

  two prisoners remain in our hands.

  They fear death more than betrayal," said Tal Fraan.

  "Any of the Pure would sacrifice himself before letting the warmth of

  his breath make him a traitor."

  "Dar Bille," Nil Spaar said. "Do you agree with my young proctor's

  appraisal? Are the guildsmen and tenders who serve on my flagship as

  eager to give themselves up as Tal Fraan declares?"

  "It is true of many," said Dar Bille. "But if your young proctor could

  speak with the late viceroy Kiv Truun, he would know it has never been

  true of all."

  The answer elicited a grunt and grimace of amused delight from the

  viceroy. "Mark well, Tal Fraan, how the truth is usually a good deal

  less certain than a willed belief," said Nil Spaar. "Now, tell

  me--what is the greatest strength of the vermin?"

  "It is as with all lesser species," said Tal Fraan, who had anticipated

  the question. "Their strength is in their numbers. They overwhelm

  their worlds with their unclean fecundity. You saw yourself how their

  spawnworld is overrun with their soft, squirming bodies.

  If they acted in concert, as one kinhold, they could overwhelm us."

  "But they do not," said Dar Bille.

  "No," said Tal Fraan. "Their great weakness undermines their great

  strength."

  "We will see that they do not learn how to be one kinhold," said Nil

  Spaar.

  "You succeeded most splendidly in that while on Coruscant," said Dar

  Bille. "But they seem less confused now--and they have not

  retreated.

  How shall we answer them?"

  Tal Fraan knew that it was the viceroy's question to answer, and he

  held his tongue. But Nil Spaar turned his way and smiled. "What

  advice would you offer, Proctor?

  How shall I make this Leia show me her neck?"

  "It is time we showed her our hostages," said Tal Fraan evenly. "And

  since the pale vermin are uncomfortable with blood, we should find a

  way to remind them-that we are not."

  The meeting of the Ruling Council in the matter of Doman Beruss's

  petition against Princess Leia Organa Solo was delayed two days, then

  another, then another.

  No reason was given for any of the postponements. Leia was notified of

  them by secure messenger--Beruss did not contact her and made no

  attempt to see her. She suspected that the members of the Council were

  still divided about how to proceed now that she had rebuffed Doman

  Beruss's private overtures.

  Behn-Kihl-Nahm did come to see her on the third day. But his report

  was gloomy and his advice unusually terse.

  "I cannot count on enough votes to protect you if you refuse to step

  aside," he said. "But if you accede gracefully, Doman has promised to

  support me as interim President. Come to the Council and say that your

  duties are too taxing in this difficult time, that you must be with

  your family. Ask that I stand in for you until this crisis is past."

  "I didn't ask for such help when my children were kidnapped," said Leia

  frostily. "How will that look?"

  "None of this need ever be made public," said Behn-Kihl-Nahm. "Leia,

  Borsk Fey'lya has been trying to put together four votes for himself.

  If yo
u appear unreasonable, Rattagagech will turn his support' to

  Fey'lya, who is saying all the right things--and that will give Fey'lya

  his four votes. You must understand how fragile your position has

  become."

  "There will be no vote at all unless I accept Doman's judgment that I'm

  unfit to be President," said Leia. "There's no need to select a

  caretaker if I haven't stepped aside."

  "Princess, that option is gone," the chairman said sternly. "All you

  will accomplish by being stubborn is to force the Ruling Council to

  report the petition of no confidence to the Senate. And no one can

  control or predict what will follow. If we are to deal with the

  Yevetha, there must be stability and continuity."

  "Then go back and tell Doman Beruss to put an end to this distraction,

  Bennie," Leia said. "Because the easiest way to have stability and

  continuity is for me to stay where I am."