Hero's Trial: Agents of Chaos I (7 page)

Leia paused, recalling something. “It didn’t occur to me until later on that I’d heard him express the same doubts once before—just after you and Jacen and Anakin had been kidnapped by Hethrir. Do you remember how protective he became?”

Jaina shook her head. “Not really.”

“Well, you were pretty young. But trust me, your dad wouldn’t let any of you kids out of his sight for months.” Leia glanced at Jaina. “He’d like to have everyone believe he’s a hardened skeptic, but the fact is, he runs on faith.”

“Then why is he keeping such a distance from everyone?”

“Because giving in to his pain would require him to break down and really grieve, instead of shutting himself off from the world. And he’s too slick for that.”

“Is that how he got that nickname?”

Leia shook her head. “That’s another story.”

Jaina tortured her lower lip with her teeth. “Mom, he will come home, won’t he? I mean, we’re all he has right now, right?”

“Of course,” Leia started to say, when C-3PO interjected, “I only hope it’s enough.”

Mif Kumas, Calibop sergeant at arms of the New Republic Senate for two terms running, spread his wings as he rose from his commodious seat on the dais of Coruscant’s Grand Convocation Chamber.

“Senators, I would caution you to refrain from disrupting these proceedings with vocal displays or outbursts,
warranted or otherwise.” Kumas waited until everyone had fallen silent, then inclined his maned head toward the speaker’s rostrum that stood opposite the dais on the polished stone floor of the great hall. “Director bel-dar-Nolek of the Obroan Institute has been recognized, and he deserves to be heard out.”

Nodding curtly to Kumas in appreciation, bel-dar-Nolek resumed his tirade. “Furthermore, it is the Institute’s contention that the New Republic has failed to honor its obligation to provide defense where needed.”

A human of considerable girth, he affected custom-tailored suits and a walking cane hand-carved from greel wood. His jowls quivered as he spoke, and he frequently punctuated his remarks by stabbing the air with a chubby forefinger.

“It was clear to the members of this body that Obroa-skai was imperiled, but nothing was done to safeguard us from attack. The Yuuzhan Vong descended on us like velkers, picking our cities clean.” He paused to clear his throat. “I was tending to business on Coruscant at the time, but I have seen the holo reports.”

Hushed utterings, few of them flattering, spread through the hall, prompting Kumas to repeat his appeal for some measure of decorum. Gratified by the commotion his remarks had elicited, bel-dar-Nolek folded his stout arms and rested them on his ample abdomen.

Tiers of randomly positioned galleries, boxes, and balconies loomed on all sides, rising clear to the domed ceiling, with page, protocol, and interpreter droids moving along the ramps, bridges, and stairways that linked them. While placement was not an indication of rank, many of the senators seated in the upper levels represented
worlds only recently admitted to the New Republic and were frequently regarded by the lower-tier delegates as audience members rather than participants. As an appeasement to them, there was talk of equipping some of the loftiest galleries with detachable hover platforms, such as had been used in the waning days of the Old Republic, but no one gave the rumors much credence.

From one of those galleries came the voice of Thuv Shinev, spokesperson for 175 inhabited planets in the outer reaches of the Tion Hegemony. Simultaneously, a life-size hologram of the human senator resolved from a projector well on the chamber floor between the speaker’s rostrum and the advisory council’s dais, with its tight arc of heterogeneous chairs. Anyone in doubt as to the senator’s identity could access information on small displays built into the armrests of every chair in the hall.

“I submit to this body that a task force was deployed to protect Obroa-skai,” Shinev argued, “and that all within reason was done.”

Bel-dar-Nolek addressed Shinev’s hologram. “A pair of reconditioned Golan Defense Platforms and a couple of antique warships hardly constitute a task force, Senator.”

“That was all that could be spared, Director,” Bothan Chief of State Borsk Fey’lya growled from his seat on the dais. His violet eyes flashed. “What’s more, I find such recriminations reprehensible, in light of the enemy’s erratic movements and often unpredictable strategies.”

Bel-dar-Nolek spread his hands placatingly. “Chief Fey’lya, I’m simply trying to prevent further errors in judgment. It’s one thing to ignore the pleas of Outer Rim
worlds, but to allow a world of Obroa-skai’s prominence to fall into enemy hands—”

“I object to the director’s blatant chauvinism!” the senator from Agamar interrupted. “And by what right does Obroa-skai portray itself as a cynosure?”

Bel-dar-Nolek glowered at the human and flung his words with brutal carelessness. “Obroa-skai’s dedication to the perpetuation of cultural diversity makes it more important than other worlds. I demand that something be done to rescue what remains of our historical documents before it’s too late.”

“Secretary Kumas,” a deep and mellifluous female voice rang out, “I ask to be recognized.”

Kumas spread his wings. “The senate recognizes Senator Viqi Shesh of Kuat.”

A slender, handsome woman of indeterminate age, Shesh flipped radiant black hair over her shoulder as she rose from her balcony seat. Relatively new to politics, she had quickly become known as a clever deal maker, with a knack for keeping all sides happy. The media had taken an immediate interest in her, to the point where she had been the subject of countless news stories, and her face was almost as widely recognized as that of Chief of State Fey’lya.

“On the matter of rescuing data, Director, it is my understanding that shiploads of important documents were relocated to the Institute’s facility on Coruscant well in advance of the attack on Obroa-skai. Was I misinformed?”

“A fraction of what we had hoped to save,” bel-dar-Nolek countered nastily.

Shesh beetled her fine brows and nodded in a way that
combined gravity and conceit. “Forgive my saying so, but the past concerns me far less than the future. While the loss of Obroa-skai is a terrible blow, the New Republic military is hardly in a position to spare ships to retake a world when it is already overextended in defending so many others. The Yuuzhan Vong are widening their hold of key sectors in the Outer and Mid Rims, and unless their advance is thwarted, they could reach the Colonies or the Core in a standard year, leaving even Coruscant itself vulnerable to assault.”

Bel-dar-Nolek studied her stonily. “I see through you, Senator. Obroa-skai was surrendered because it lacks strategic value. When Yuuzhan Vong warships begin to close on Kuat, Chandrila, or Bothawui, I doubt very much that the New Republic fleets will be otherwise engaged. The military was in force at Ithor. Even the Imperial Remnant.”

“And Ithor was despoiled in spite of our efforts,” Shesh said. “I sympathize, Director, but I certainly don’t see what can be done now.”

Bel-dar-Nolek slammed his fist into his open hand. “We can appeal to the Yuuzhan Vong to allow Obroaskai to remain accessible to scholars.”

Denunciations flew from every quarter. While Kumas was attempting to restore order, Borsk Fey’lya got to his feet, his cream-colored fur bristling. “It is not the policy of this body to bargain with aggressors,” he pronounced, in a way that left little room for argument.

But bel-dar-Nolek was unmoved. “Then I’m afraid you leave the Obroan Institute no choice but to forge a separate peace with the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“I strongly advise against that, Director,” Shesh said.
“The most recent attempt at appealing to the Yuuzhan Vong’s sense of fair play ended in the grisly murder of one of our own—Senator Elegos A’Kla.”

“I hold Luke Skywalker and the Jedi accountable for the death of Senator A’Kla,” bel-dar-Nolek said in disgust, “and all that has befallen us. Where were they when Obroa-skai fell? Anyone would think they would have been the first to protect a center of learning.”

“Even the Jedi can’t be everywhere at once,” Fey’lya said.

“Still, I blame them. I blame the Jedi and the Bothans’ own Admiral Traest Kre’fey, who has become a dangerous rogue!”

“I demand a retraction,” Fey’lya fulminated. “Such remarks are blatantly inflammatory and provocative!”

“What information do we have about the genesis of this war?” the director said, playing to the audience. “We have only the word of the Jedi that the Yuuzhan Vong wiped out the ExGal outpost on Belkadan and attacked Dubrillion and Sernpidal. But who is to say that the Yuuzhan Vong weren’t provoked to such actions by the Jedi themselves? Met with hostility, perhaps they simply responded in kind. Perhaps this conflict is nothing more than a perpetuation of that initial misunderstanding, fueled by the subsequent actions of the Jedi at Dantooine and Ithor, in league with certain elements of the military, including Admiral Kre’fey and Rogue Squadron, along with other hapless units that have been dragged into this struggle.”

Bel-dar-Nolek paused dramatically and gestured broadly to the hall. “Where are the Jedi even now? Where is Ambassador Organa Solo? Wasn’t it she, senators
and representatives, who first brought the Yuuzhan Vong to your attention?”

Alderaanian councilor Cal Omas spoke up. “Ambassador Organa Solo is attending to personal business.”

“And may I remind Director bel-dar-Nolek and other members of this assembly that she does not represent the Jedi Knights,” Shesh added.

“Then just who does?” bel-dar-Nolek pressed. “Why are they permitted to take whatever actions they see fit, without having to answer to this body or to the Defense Force? We are alleged to be members of a New Republic, and yet it seems to me that we are weaker than the Old Republic, which at least had the Jedi under rein.”

He looked around the hall. “I ask you, too, what are the Jedi waiting for? Do they fear the Yuuzhan Vong, or is it that they harbor secret designs of their own? I suggest that you put an end to their reckless conduct, and that you open negotiations with the Yuuzhan Vong, without using the Jedi—or anyone with ties to the Jedi, like Elegos A’Kla had—as intermediaries.”

Viqi Shesh was the first to speak when the hall had quieted sufficiently for anyone to be heard. “Senators, if nothing else, I think we can all take some consolation in the fact that Director bel-dar-Nolek is neither a politician nor a military strategist.” She waited for the laughter and applause to subside. “We must not allow ourselves to be undermined by divisiveness, nor should we allow the fall of Ithor and now Obroa-skai to undermine our confidence in the Jedi. I know that you will agree with me when I say that by weakening the Jedi Knights, we only weaken ourselves.”

Mara rose from the couch to greet Luke as he came through the doorway of their suite on Coruscant. He met her halfway with open arms.

“It’s about time,” she said, shutting her eyes and holding him close.

R2-D2 trailed Luke into the room, toodled a greeting to Mara, and immediately headed for the suite’s recharge station.

“I would’ve been back sooner if Streen hadn’t asked me to go to Yavin 4.”

“Trouble?”

“Could be. Now that the Yuuzhan Vong have occupied Obroa-skai, they could discover the academy. If that happens, we have to think about relocating the younger Jedi. In the meantime, Streen, Kam, and Tionne are watching over things.”

They had been separated for only a standard week, but Luke was alarmed at how delicate Mara felt to his touch. He considered trying to feel her through the Force, but feared she would detect him and resent the intrusion. Instead he luxuriated in her embrace for a moment
longer, then backed away to hold her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you.”

“If you must,” she said with elaborate sufferance.

Her face was pale and her eyes were underscored by dark circles, but some of the sheen had returned to her red-gold hair, and her green eyes sparked to life under his gaze.

“What’s the verdict, doctor?”

Luke pretended not to hear the quaver in her voice, but Mara saw through his pretense. There wasn’t much they could hide from each other, though one of the more devastating aspects of Mara’s illness had been its detrimental effect on the depth and intensity of their bond.

“You tell me.”

“It hasn’t been my best week.” She smiled frailly, then compressed her lips in annoyance. “But I don’t know how I ever let you talk me into coming here—and don’t say you got me at a weak moment.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

Months earlier, Mara had determined that the best way to fight the illness was to remain active and fully attuned to the Force. But after the brutal murder of Elegos A’Kla and the devastation visited on Ithor her condition had worsened. If all of Luke’s and Mara’s instincts were wrong and the illness wasn’t linked to something the Yuuzhan Vong had introduced to the galaxy, her vitality at least appeared to wax and wane in accordance with the invasion. Where following the minor victories at Helska and Dantooine she had emerged strong, Ithor had constituted a new low, not only for Mara but for everyone.

Luke slipped out of his cloak, and the two of them
moved arm in arm into the suite’s modestly furnished sitting room, his black trousers and shirt in stark contrast to Mara’s white sheath. Mara lowered herself into a corner of the couch, her taut legs tucked beneath her. She gathered her long hair in one hand and twirled it behind her head, then spent a moment staring out the window at passing traffic. The apartment wasn’t far from the Grand Convocation Center, but sonic-cancellation glass kept the noise from intruding.

“Did you meet with Dr. Oolos?” Luke asked at last.

She turned to him. “I did.”

“And?”

“He told me the same thing Cilghal and Tomla El told me seven months ago. The illness isn’t like anything he’s ever seen, and there’s nothing he can do. But I could have told you that—and saved both of us the trouble of coming here. Oolos wouldn’t come right out and say that the Force is the only thing keeping me alive, but he implied as much.”

“There’s the one other … case,” Luke started to say.