The Joiner King (44 page)

“Have we?” Luke’s gaze remained fixed on Omas, but Leia felt his mind reaching in her direction, wondering what this had to do with her vague warning about the shift of power in the Colony. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Neither was I,” Omas fumed. “Yet a Hapan battle fleet was seen at someplace called the Lizil nest.”

“In the Colony?” Corran Horn asked, stepping into the room. “What’s it doing there?”

“I was hoping someone
here
could explain.” Omas’s gaze swung to Leia. “Perhaps
you?
”

“I’m afraid not.” Leia had been half expecting this. In the convoluted politics of the Hapan Royal Navy, there was sure to be some ambitious spy who saw an advantage in reporting the fleet’s encounter with the
Falcon
to Galactic Alliance Intelligence. “They were in no mood to answer questions.”

“
Who
was in no mood to answer questions?” Kyp asked, joining the group. He nodded to the Ithorians, from him the equivalent of a full diplomatic salutation, then ignored Omas and came to stand with Leia and Han. “The Hapans?”

“Yeah,” Han said. “They wanted to intern us.”

“
Intern
you?” Omas knitted his brow. “You
encountered
this fleet?”

Leia began to have a sinking feeling. “You didn’t know?”

“No.” Omas’s voice was icy.

“I apologize,” Leia said. “We gave our word not to reveal their presence.”

“And you
kept
it?” Omas demanded.

“Some of us still honor our promises,” Han said. “I know it’s old-fashioned, but there you have it.”

“The Galactic Alliance can’t afford your promises right now,” Omas retorted. “I only hope they haven’t started a war.”

“Leia had no choice,” Luke said. “The word of one Jedi to another is binding.”

Omas let his chin drop. “
Don’t
tell me there were Jedi aboard those ships!”

“It was Tenel Ka’s fleet, and
she
is a Jedi,” Mara said. “Leia’s word is as binding to Tenel Ka’s agent as it would be to the queen herself.”

The assertion was a stretch, since being honest with other Jedi was more of an unwritten policy than a formal code. And the concept of extending it to a Jedi’s representatives was a new innovation entirely, but Leia appreciated the support. She started toward the conference area, initiating a subtle migration that she hoped would result in a shift of mood as well as location. Once she arrived, she turned and watched in silent amusement as Omas instinctively searched for the head seat at a round table. Now would have been a good time to ask the Ithorians to wait in the reception area, but she was not about to sanction the rude way Omas had burst into the chamber. If he did not want to discuss this in front of the Ithorians,
he
could be the one who asked them to leave.

“If you didn’t know about our encounter with the fleet, Chief
Omas, why did you think Han and I could tell you what it was doing in the Colony?” Leia asked.

“Because of your son.” Omas finally took a chair across from her, his gaze lingering on the concentric black-circle, white-star inlay that repeated itself on the table’s surface in ever-smaller renditions. “I thought Jacen might have told you why he arranged this.”

“Jacen?” Han asked. He sat at Leia’s right. “Last time I checked, he wasn’t king of anything.”

“No, but Tenel Ka dispatched the Hapan fleet shortly after his visit.” Omas waited as Luke, Mara, and the other Jedi Masters also took seats at the conference table, allowing his gaze to linger on the Ithorians, then finally seemed to accept that the Jedi were not going to ask them to leave and simply turned back to the conference table. “I doubt it was a coincidence.”

“It wasn’t,” Jacen said, breezing into the room. “I asked her to send a fleet to the Colony’s aid.”

Omas twisted around in his chair. “Why in the blazes would you do something like that?”

Instead of answering, Jacen stopped and greeted the Ithorians fondly, addressing several by name, then excused himself to go over to the conference area. The Ithorians, as perceptive as they were gentle, remained in the foyer area, awkwardly greeting Kenth Hamner, Cilghal, and the other Jedi Masters as they continued to trickle in.

Jacen took a chair at Omas’s side, then said, “I am a Jedi. All you need know is that my reasons were sound.”

The calming aroma of the roo wood must have been working, because Omas remained in his seat and looked across the table toward Luke. “I didn’t realize Jacen was a Master.”

“The opinions of all Jedi are valued in this room—even those who don’t consider themselves members of the Jedi Order.” Luke looked to Jacen. “Perhaps you’d explain to the Masters present?”

“If you like.” Jacen’s tone was cordial. “I was trying to prevent a war.”

“
Prevent
one?” Omas demanded. “The Chiss—”

“Understand only power,” Jacen interrupted. “And now the Killiks have some. The Hapan fleet will buy us the time we need to resolve this conflict.”

“At the Galactic Alliance’s expense,” Omas said. “The Chiss are already threatening to withdraw their security patrols if we don’t bring our Jedi under control.”

Mara’s eyes—and those of several other Masters—flashed at the word
our
, but Omas did not seem to notice. He turned back to Luke.

“And that’s exactly what I want you to do, Master Skywalker,” he said. “By force, if necessary. I want all of our Jedi, and the Hapan fleet, back inside Galactic Alliance borders by this time next month.”

“Wouldn’t it be better for
you
to talk to Queen Tenel Ka?” Leia asked. “She is, after all, the leader of a Galactic Alliance republic.”

“
And
a Jedi,” Omas countered. He lowered his eyes, then continued in a softer voice. “Frankly, she refuses to listen to me. She insists she is only doing what is right, and the discussion ends there.”

“And perhaps ours should end here,” Kyp said. He sat at Leia’s left, looking across to where Luke sat at one tip of the conference table’s largest inlaid stars. “Jedi don’t answer to politicians.”

“What?” This from Corran, who sat on the other side of Kyp. “Then who
do
we answer to? Ourselves?”

“Of course,” Jacen replied calmly. “Who else can we trust to wield our power? We must follow our own consciences.”

“That’s very arrogant,” Kenth Hamner said. He placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, looking Jacen directly in the eye. “It concerns me to hear
any
Jedi say such a thing … but you, Jacen?”

“It
is
sound public policy to place powerful factions like the Jedi under the control of a civil authority.” Leia kept her voice reasonable and conciliatory. Whether Jacen knew it or not, he was digging at an old wound among the Masters, and she did not want the meeting to descend into another of the shouting matches that Luke had described over the Jedi’s proper relationship
to the government. “Even in those with the best of intentions, power corrupts.”

“And so we place the burden of remaining pure on lesser shoulders?” Jacen pressed. “Mother, you’ve watched two governments collapse under the weight of their own corruption and inefficiency, and the third is sagging. Do you really believe Jedi should be the tools of such frail institutions?”

Leia was at a loss to respond. Jacen’s question was almost rhetorical. He had been there when she declared that she was done with politics forever, and he knew better than anyone—probably even Han—how disheartened she had been by the ineptitude of the New Republic government. In truth, she almost agreed with what he was saying … and probably would have done so openly, had she known of a better way to run a galactic republic.

When Leia failed to answer, Jacen turned to Omas, who was flushing in speechless anger, and said, “I’m sorry if this offends you—”

“It offends
me
,” Corran said. “The Jedi exist to serve the Galactic Alliance.”

“Our duty is to the Force.” Kyp’s voice was calmer than Corran’s, but harder. “Our
only
duty.”

Kenth Hamner held his hand out toward Kyp, fingers forward in a conciliatory fashion. “I think what Corran is saying is that it’s our duty to serve the Galactic Alliance, because serving the Alliance serves the Force.”

“That so?” Han asked. He usually avoided ethics debates like the black holes they were, but this time even he could not restrain himself. “Because Corran made it pretty clear he thought the Jedi were just a bunch of Reconstruction Authority cops who ought to take their orders from Chief Omas like everyone else.”

He winked at Jacen—which was exactly the wrong thing to do at that moment.

Corran glared blaster bolts at Han. “I think we are answerable to Galactic Alliance authority, yes.”

“Even if it means war in another part of the galaxy?” Mara
retorted. “Because Jacen’s right about this. The Force extends beyond the Galactic Alliance—and so does our responsibility.”

“Then let the rest of the galaxy pay your bills,” Omas snapped. “Until that happens, I expect the Jedi to put Galactic Alliance interests first.”

A sudden silence fell over the conference table, with Corran and Kenth casting accusatory glances at Kyp and Mara, and Kyp and Mara studying Omas with knowing sneers.

After a moment, Luke said, “When the Alliance offered its support, it was with the explicit understanding that there were no conditions.”

“In an ideal galaxy, that would still be true,” Omas said. He met Luke’s gaze without flinching—and with no regret or embarrassment for breaking his pledge. “But Galactic Alliance finances are stretched thin as it is. If we must suddenly replace the Chiss security patrols, the only way to afford the cost would be to slash the Jedi budget.”

Kyp planted his elbows on a wedge of black tabletop and ran his gaze around the circle of Masters. “Well, at least the question is out in the open now. Are we mercenaries, or are we Jedi?”

Corran’s eyes bulged, and the debate deteriorated into an open quarrel, with Corran and Kenth still arguing fiercely that the order’s first obligation was to the Galactic Alliance, and Kyp and Mara stubbornly contending that Jedi should strive to bring justice and peace wherever the Force summoned them. Cringing at what the Ithorians must think of such a contentious display, Leia glanced over at the foyer area and found them standing there in polite silence, as overlooked and forgotten by the Jedi as they had been by the Galactic Alliance government for the last five years … and that was when a terrible thought struck her.

Leia had a solution to the Colony problem—a solution that meant cheating the Ithorians yet again.

The Masters’ voices were growing sharp and loud, but Leia remained quiet. Her plan would please Omas more than it did her, and that in itself was almost enough to make her reject it. Once, she had held the Chief in high regard and helped place
the war against the Yuuzhan Vong in his hands. But peace was often harder to manage than war. Over the last five years, Omas had made too many compromises, bowed to the demands of the moment so many times that he could no longer hold his head up high enough to see what was coming on the horizon.

And if Leia proposed her solution, she would be guilty of the same thing. She didn’t know if she could do that, if peace would be worth seeing the defeated eyes of Cal Omas in her own face when she looked into the mirror every morning.

Finally, Luke had heard enough. “Stop!”

When Kyp and Corran continued to argue, he stood and sharpened his voice without raising it.

“Stop,” he repeated.

Kyp and Corran slowly fell silent.

“Is this how Jedi resolve their disagreements?” Luke asked.

Both of the Masters’ faces went red with embarrassment, and Corran said, “I’m sorry.”

He was apologizing to Luke instead of Kyp, but that was more than Kyp did. He simply sank into his chair and, being careful to avoid Corran’s eyes, stared blankly at the table’s star-within-a-star inlay.

“Too bad,” Han muttered. “I haven’t seen a good lightsaber fight in ages.”

Leia was about to kick Han under the table when he exclaimed, “Ouch!”

“Sorry.” Mara looked past Han to Leia. “Just stretching.”

“No problem,” Leia said. Han’s joke was too true to be funny; the rift in the Jedi order had been widened today, and she was beginning to wonder if it could ever be closed. “I was feeling a little cramped myself.”

Luke allowed a tense silence to fall over the room, then sat down and turned to Omas.

“It may take some time to reach a consensus on your request, Chief Omas. As you can see, our decision is complicated by the fact that the Chiss are acting against the Killiks not because of what they
have
done, but because of what they
might
do.”

Omas nodded gravely, his irresolute gaze gliding around the table, silently taking the measure of the Jedi who had defied
him, trying to judge the resolve of those who had not. Finally, he came to Luke and stopped.

“Master Skywalker, I quite simply do not care,” he said. “The Chiss’s trouble with the Colony is no concern of ours. We can’t put Galactic Alliance lives at risk just because a few Jedi feel bound by a quaint morality no one else understands.”

Kam Solusar and Tionne arrived on the heels of the exchange. It had been over a year since Leia had seen either of them, but they looked much the same, Kam still wearing his white hair cropped close to the head and Tionne allowing her silver-white tresses to cascade over her shoulders. They had barely cleared the door before they drew up short, recoiling from the animosity in the Force with the horrified expressions of someone who had just stumbled upon a pair of mating Togorians.

Leia had not realized until she saw their alarm just how noxious the atmosphere in the room had grown. The rift in the council was widening before her eyes, opening a chasm that would only grow increasingly difficult for prideful Masters like Kyp and Corran to cross. Assuming that her idea was viable, and she felt sure it was, she had it in her power to close that rift—at the price of her own conscience.

Kam and Tionne took seats next to each other, on the opposite side of Cilghal from Luke.