Before the Storm

by Michael P. Kube-Mcdowell

  “Maybe not in the specs,” said Lando. “But they know how to play together, and they know how to win. We beat Darth Vader, and we beat the Emperor, on their turf and on their terms—”

  “Ancient history. And you were lucky.”

  Lando smiled. “Any gambler knows you don’t bet against a lucky man. If you keep my players out of the game, and you lose, you’re going to have a hard time explaining that to the people who sent us out here.”

  “A commander’s burden.”

  “I wouldn’t want yours right now,” Lando said. “Look, Colonel—no matter who or what’s inside the vagabond, we have to be able to outthink them. Because if we don’t, we lose both ways—if we have to destroy that ship, or it has to destroy us.”

  “I am very aware of that.”

  Lando pointed toward the door. “Well, that’s R2-D2 and C-3P0 out there, Luke Skywalker’s personal droids. And Lobot and I made a living making fools of Security and Intelligence in one system after another. We’ve beaten tricks your people haven’t even thought of yet. How sure are you that you don’t want us on your team?”

  Pakkpekatt’s nostrils flared. Then he bowed his neck, the Hortek counterpart to a nod of agreement. “Very well. We will work together.”

  “Good. That’s all I want,” Lando said.

  “I do not believe that. I know who you are,” Pakkpekatt said with a menacing stiffness. “Do not think I do not. I will be watching you.”

  Lando kept his mind clear. “We’re going to get along just fine, Colonel. You’ll see.”

  Chapter Five

  On the morning of her first meeting with Nil Spaar, Leia climbed out of bed with an aching shoulder, tired eyes, and a blanket of fatigue in her limbs that made her feel as though she was on the verge of being ill.

  Anakin had awakened from a terrifying nightmare in the small hours, and Leia had allowed him to climb into bed between her and Han in the hope that it would help him sleep. But the unfamiliar presence of a third little body had forced her into unnatural sleeping postures. Worse, Anakin had become a restive sleeper, and she had found herself aware of his every move, coming fully awake time and again as he turned and squirmed beside her.

  Han, Leia had been annoyed to discover, slept through it all, including his own snoring.

  Her grogginess persisted through breakfast. As she dressed for her meeting with the viceroy of the Duskhan League, she thought only about falling back into the now empty bed for a nap. It was the kind of morning that sorely tempted her to break her own rule about stimulants and take a cup of naris-bud tea or chew a stick of brightgum.

  The temptation got stronger once she reached the final briefing. The conference room seemed to be full of bodies, and everyone seemed to be talking to her at once.

  “Try to get emergency transit and landing rights on a provisional basis, as a stepping-stone to full navigation rights. We’ve got members in Joruna and Widek, and it’s a long way around for the freighters.”

  “Almost everything we know about the Koornacht Cluster is thirty years old. It was in Imperial hands from the time of the Clone Wars until shortly after the Battle of Endor. The Empire didn’t allow anyone in, and—until now—the Yevetha haven’t seemed interested in coming out.”

  “As near as we can tell, the Duskhan League only includes the eleven worlds populated by the Yevetha. We believe that there are as many as seventeen worlds in the Koornacht Cluster which are populated by other species, and not part of the Duskhan League. But it hasn’t been possible to survey or contact them.”

  “Intelligence hasn’t been able to find a single civilian pilot who’ll admit having gone into the Koornacht Cluster. We’ve gotten a deposition from one of our Imperial prisoners, a former bridge officer on a Star Destroyer which he says visited there on patrol. It’s pretty wild stuff, though, and nothing he says can be confirmed.”

  “Mineral resources available for trade? Isn’t that information in the Duskhan application file? It’s supposed to be.”

  “There isn’t any application. They’re not applying for membership. It’s more like an audition—for us. Nil Spaar seems to think this is some sort of summit meeting. He doesn’t want to be called ‘Ambassador,’ either.”

  “Why doesn’t Intelligence have better information for us? Where does a viceroy stand in the Duskhan power structure?”

  “I don’t think there’s any question but that Nil Spaar represents more worlds, a larger population, greater material riches, and a more advanced industrial-technological base than anyone who’s come to Imperial City in the last twelve years. And he probably knows it, too.”

  “Leia, from a strategic standpoint, it sure would be nice to have a friend that big sitting between us and wherever Daala’s gotten herself to, in the Core. Right now Koornacht is one of the soft spots along the Inner Line.”

  “Does anyone have any solid information on what he wants?”

  “A link to the New Republic hypernet and the Coruscant information went in the second day. His staff did all the inside work, though. At least we know they couldn’t just eavesdrop on the net.”

  “Where’s the technical analysis of the Duskhan embassy ship?”

  “Does anyone else think that the Yevetha might be related to the Twi’lek?”

  “Have you had a chance to review the results of the Obra-skai library search?”

  “Leia, are you all right?”

  “Princess Leia?”

  Shaking her head, Leia pushed herself away from the table and started toward the door. Lightheadedness halted her steps halfway across the room. As she swayed unsteadily, Admiral Ackbar hastened to her side and took her arm.

  “Help me to my office,” she whispered.

  In the privacy of the president’s suite, one floor up from the conference room, Ackbar helped Leia settle on a thickly padded couch.

  “What is happening to you?” Ackbar asked. “Should I signal the medical droid?” An MD-7, a mobile droid specialized for emergency medicine, was permanently assigned to the executive section.

  “No. I’ll be all right. I just want to lie down for a few moments. There was no air in that conference room.”

  “You don’t look well. Do you want to postpone?”

  She shook her head almost imperceptibly. “No—no, it would just complicate things. There’ve been too many delays already. I got up too quickly, that’s all.”

  “Perhaps someone else should take over today’s session—”

  “No one else can,” Leia said sharply.

  “Then someone should be in there with you.”

  “Nil Spaar expects to meet in private with the Chief of State of the New Republic. That’s what he insisted on. That’s what we agreed to. We can’t make any changes an hour before the session—not without giving offense,” Leia said, and closed her eyes. “Just go away and let me have a few minutes of quiet. I’ll be ready when the time comes. This isn’t a crisis. Everything will be fine.”

  In a subtle bit of choreography arranged by the protocol attachés for both sides, Princess Leia Organa Solo, president of the New Republic, and Nil Spaar, viceroy of the Duskhan League, entered the Grand Hall from opposite sides at exactly the same moment.

  Leia’s strides were measured and steady. She had spent the time alone in meditation, opening her connection to the Force and drawing on its deep, powerful currents, allowing the flow to cleanse and refresh her body and mind. Doing so meant surrendering a bit of her pride, just as drinking naris-bud tea would have—an admission that she needed a crutch. But it left her more ready to face the responsibility in front of her.

  Nil Spaar matched her pace, stride for stride. He was not an imposing figure, no taller than Leia, perhaps even a touch shorter without his thick-soled, block-heeled boots. His eyes were strikingly human, distracting Leia at first from the high ruff of bony armor at the back of his neck and the bold streaks of facial color that disappeared under the soft swirl of fabric he wore on his head. Nil Spaar’s gaze was op
en and friendly, his smile disarming.

  The Yevethan was dressed as he had been on the streets in all the surveillance recordings Leia had seen: in a close-fitting, long-sleeved tunic with tan shoulders and a brown body, darker narrow-legged pants that tucked into his boots, and beige gloves that disappeared up the sleeves of his tunic. There was no sign of jewelry or insignia save for the pin that held his head wrap in place. There were no signifiers of rank or station, as she might expect on a uniform or ceremonial garment.

  By unspoken agreement, each of them stopped when the other was a long stride out of arm’s reach. “Viceroy,” Leia said, and bowed.

  “Princess Leia,” Nil Spaar said, bowing in turn. “I am so pleased to be here with you. This is how it should be. You, the head of a confederacy of worlds, strong, proud, prosperous—me, the head of a confederacy of worlds, strong, proud, prosperous. You have welcomed me as an equal, and I welcome you in the same fashion.”

  “Thank you, Viceroy. Would you like to sit?” Leia said, gesturing toward the two chairs, each with a small side table, that rested in the middle of the room facing each other.

  “By all means,” Nil Spaar said. His chair, provided and set up by his majordomo, was an S of open wire mesh. On the table beside it were two black cylinders with feeding tubes. “We should be able to sit down with each other and talk honestly, as statesmen and patriots. You yourself fought in the great rebellion against that black beast, Palpatine, did you not?”

  “I got my knees and elbows dirty a few times,” Leia said. “But many others did far more than I.”

  “Such practiced modesty! But, here again, we can hardly help but understand each other,” said Nil Spaar. “I had my own small part to play in reclaiming Koornacht from the pestilent minions of the Emperor. So we both know what it means to take up arms in a cause to which we pledge our lives and honor. Indeed, as we sit here this moment, I warrant we are both still answering the call to duty which honor imposes on us—is that not so?”

  Leia did not want to be led onto such personal ground. “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making sensible plans—or so I’ve heard,” she said with a smile. “I do what I can to preserve that which I love. I don’t know that that makes me any different from most of the people I meet.”

  “Ah, you are wiser than your years,” said Nil Spaar. “But of course you know that it is what you love which makes you stand apart. Yourself, of course, and your children, and your mates—but beyond that, a circle of friends, a community of kin, and a collection of ideals. And so it is with me. How pleased I would be, if, here, away from interference and distraction, we should be able to forge an alliance which will benefit those we love.”

  “That’s the entire purpose of the New Republic,” Leia said, sidestepping the word alliance as if it were quicksand. “I think that if you’ll speak to the leaders of some of the hundred worlds which have become members in the last twenty-eight days, you’ll hear that the benefits are substantial and immediate.”

  “I do not doubt it,” said Nil Spaar. “One need only look at the miracle of Coruscant. Was it not but half a dozen years ago that this world was ravaged by the clone Emperor himself?”

  “Yes—”

  “And now I find it rebuilt from its own ashes to a new glory that rivals the stories of old,” Nil Spaar said, his tone admiring. “I have walked your city for hours on end, marveling at the industry of your people, the cleverness of your inventions, the grandness of your visions. Such proud edifices you erect out of hope and clay. Such bold dreams you build on the ruins of past failure.”

  “We do what we can—what we must,” Leia said. “I like to think of Coruscant as a symbol of what’s possible, a mirror in which we can see our best face. The vitality you’ve seen is a reflection of the vitality of the entire Republic. I want Coruscant to stand for the idea that there’s an alternative to war and tyranny. Cooperation and tolerance—the best of all of us, available to all of us.”

  “And there are so many of you! I am certain I saw more different species in my first hour here than I did in my entire previous life. Dozens, if not a hundred,” Nil Spaar said. “How does it all work? Is membership political or genetic?”

  “The New Republic is a mutual self-protection pact among over four hundred sentient species, and an economic partnership between eleven thousand inhabited worlds,” said Leia. “But you’ll find that the autonomy of member worlds is hardly compromised at all—”

  “So long as they are willing to be cooperative and tolerant,” Nil Spaar said.

  “That goes without saying.”

  “Perhaps it ought not,” said Nil Spaar. “It might lead to misunderstandings, and mistaken assumptions.”

  Puzzled, Leia felt as though the ground had suddenly shifted under her. “I don’t think a legation has ever come to Coruscant expecting anything else.”

  “You would know better than I. But you might find some came here more committed to getting Coruscant to fight their fights than to Leia Organa’s ideals. The weak are always looking for champions. Are you certain there are none such hiding in your skirts?”

  “If the weak can’t count on Coruscant’s protection, then there is no New Republic—only anarchy. And anarchy can only lead to more tyranny.”

  “Well answered.”

  “Thank you,” said Leia. “But since you raised the issue, would you mind telling me why you and your legation are here?”

  “Not at all. I think it important that there be no misunderstandings,” Nil Spaar said. “As impressed as I am with your ideas, your capital city, and your confederation, the Duskhan League is not interested in membership in the New Republic. Not collectively, and not as individual worlds. Despite the fact that we submitted no application, you seem unclear on that fact.”

  “I think the Duskhan League would be a valuable member of the New Republic,” Leia said. “I wasn’t willing to dismiss the possibility without talking to you.”

  Nil Spaar smiled tolerantly. “You may dismiss it now—please.”

  “Then what are you seeking here?”

  “As I’ve already said, an alliance. An agreement between equals, to the benefit of both.”

  Frowning, Leia asked, “Viceroy, are you concerned that what you call the ‘weak’ members would be too much of a burden on you?”

  “No. That is not an issue.”

  “Very well,” Leia said. “But I think you should know right now that it’ll be very hard for us to come to an ‘agreement between equals’ that’ll allow us to respond militarily if you’re threatened. The charter under which we operate allows for mutual defense and enforcement of the articles of membership—and that’s all.”

  “Truly, you do not yet understand. We do not want or need your protection,” Nil Spaar said. “We enjoyed the ‘protection’ of the Empire for half my lifetime, and we are determined to avoid such blessings in the future. What we want more than anything is to be left alone. Bear that in mind, and we may begin to speak the same language.”

  At Leia’s prodding, Nil Spaar shared with her some of the Yevetha’s experiences at the hands of Emperor Palpatine’s generals and stormtroopers. The stories were familiar enough in flavor, if not in detail.

  The Imperial governor of Koornacht had been given a free hand in subduing the Yevetha. In his turn, he had Yevetha women taken as pleasure slaves for his staff, and Yevetha men taken as live targets for his troopers. The brutalized bodies were displayed in schools, at sacred sites, and on the public information channels everyone was required to watch twice a day.

  When that did not produce the desired degree of cooperation, the Imperial governor had children taken instead. Dissent crumbled, but the terror of random seizures continued. When the Imperial occupation army was finally driven from Koornacht, seven thousand Yevetha hostages were found in the governor’s garrison—and the bones of more than fifteen thousand dead.

  “Enough,” Leia said. “Please. I’m afraid we’ve already reawakened enough nig
htmares.”

  “I wanted you to understand the depth of our feelings in this.”

  “I do,” said Leia. I may understand one of our own better now, too.

  “Then let us turn our attention to the future,” Nil Spaar said.

  For the next hour, they worked at teasing out what the language of alliance might sound like. Despite apparent good faith, they constantly stumbled over conflicting assumptions, and their progress was hard to measure. But at midday, when the viceroy gathered himself and stood, he pronounced, “This has been valuable and enjoyable. Shall we resume in one hour?”

  “I’d be happy to continue through lunch,” Leia offered. “We could have food brought to us.”

  Nil Spaar looked momentarily shocked. “With all apologies, that is not possible,” he said. “My people hold it a great affront to propriety to take food in mixed company. And I personally believe it foolish to dilute a worship meal with distracting conversation.”

  “My apologies,” Leia said, standing. “In an hour, then.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  The debriefing session included Leia, Admiral Ackbar for the Fleet Office, Admiral Drayson standing in for Intelligence director General Rieekan, Behn-kihlnahm for the Senate, First Administrator Engh, two recorder droids, and half a dozen senior aides.

  Everyone listened without interruption as Leia quickly recounted as much of her conversation with Nil Spaar as her memory would allow. Then all had a chance to question Leia or offer their comments.

  The comments were largely predictable. Ackbar, always thinking about strategic issues, was concerned that navigation rights hadn’t come up yet, and wanted that issue given priority in the afternoon session. Drayson, always looking to open intelligence channels, wondered how the viceroy would react to a proposal to revive the Intersystem Library Exchange, in which some of the Yevetha worlds had once participated.

  Behn-kihl-nahm, always cognizant of the ebb and flow of power, questioned whether Leia had the authority to negotiate at all without a pending application. And Engh, always aware of the power of money to cement political bonds, urged Leia to dangle the entire catalog of trade goods before Nil Spaar as an inducement to reconsider membership.