Allegiance

by Timothy Zahn

  He got an acknowledgment and keyed off. “I presume you’ve also calculated how far behind her we’ll be?”

  “No more than a few hours,” Somoril assured him. “Brock and Gilling can easily keep her away from any HoloNet transmitters that long.” He stood up. “With your permission, Captain, I’ll go see if I can search out any further details on what our five deserters have been doing.”

  He gave a slight bow and turned to the door. “What would you have done if I’d said no?” Ozzel called after him.

  Somoril didn’t turn around. “I’d have sent one of my own ships to deal with her,” he said. “And I would have had utter contempt for you for the rest of your days.”

  Ozzel snorted. “Don’t you mean for the rest of your days?”

  “Not at all,” Somoril said quietly. “I have the feeling your life would have ended up being significantly shorter than mine.”

  Chapter Eleven

  CHIVKYRIE’S SHIP, BY PREARRANGEMENT, WAS already waiting when Leia’s courier ship dropped out of hyperspace over the uninhabited rendezvous planet. Two other vessels were also in sight, running in parallel orbits: the two Rebellion leaders who had come to argue against whatever this plan was Chivkyrie had come up with. Gazing out her viewport, taking deep, steadying breaths the way her father had taught her, Leia watched as her pilot eased them alongside Chivkyrie’s ship. It’s just another negotiation, she told herself firmly. Like hundreds she’d participated in during her career.

  But there was something ominous about this one, an odd uneasiness that refused to go away. Distantly, she wished Luke was with her. Or even Han.

  She hadn’t had much occasion to deal with Adarians when she was in the Imperial Senate—their interests and those of Alderaan had seldom coincided. But since joining the Rebellion she’d been forced by necessity to learn more about their customs and psychology. Living through a war, her father had once said, forced one to learn geography. Participating in a war, Leia had discovered, forced one to learn people.

  The welcoming ritual aboard Chivkyrie’s ship was short but densely layered with history and custom and significance, and Leia was exceedingly glad she’d made a point of studying the ceremony ahead of time. She made it through with only a few small errors, all of them due to the fact that her human vocal apparatus couldn’t quite hit some of the Adarese words.

  “You grace my ship and my company with your courtesy,” Chivkyrie said when the ceremony was over, his Adarian mouth mangling the Basic words almost as badly as Leia had done with his language. “Allow me to present the other leaders who seek your wisdom.” He gestured to a Mungra with piercing orange eyes standing to his left. “This is Ydor Vokkoli, leader of the Freedonna Kaisu.”

  “Leader Vokkoli,” Leia said, nodding a greeting to him. Mungras were one of the two species native to Shelsha sector, a people who had already created a realm of a dozen interstellar colonies when the Great Exploration of the galaxy had begun millennia ago.

  “Princess Organa,” Vokkoli said, bowing his shaggy maned head in return.

  “And this is Thillis Slanni of the Shining Hope,” Chivkyrie continued, gesturing to a tall Ishi Tib to his right.

  [Though I am not the leader, but merely the director of planning,] Slanni corrected in the complex series of squeals, honks, and beak-clicks that made up the Tibranese language.

  “I understand,” Leia said, nodding. “The organizational skill of your people is well known. I’m pleased to have both you and Leader Vokkoli here to help guide my decision.”

  “A decision that may mean life or death for us all,” Vokkoli rumbled.

  So much for small talk. “Then let’s sit down and discuss it,” Leia said. “Leader Chivkyrie, if you’ll show us the way?”

  The conference room was down the corridor from the entryway and featured the stepped floor and multilevel tiered conference table typical of Adarian design. Chivkyrie escorted Leia to the highest part of the table, then took a seat at the next level down. Vokkoli took the chair opposite him, at the same table level, while Slanni sat one level below Vokkoli on his side.

  It was an odd setup, Leia had often thought, and in long meetings tended to give the participants vertigo and stiff necks. Still, she had to admit that it made it abundantly clear where everyone stood on the issue at hand.

  “First of all,” she said after Chivkyrie’s servants had laid out drinks and plates of nibblings on each of the occupied tiers, “I need to know from you, Leader Chivkyrie, the details of this plan you’re proposing.”

  “It is simplicity itself,” Chivkyrie said. “I do not understand how anyone cannot see the vast potential for benefit—”

  “We’ll discuss the benefits in a moment,” Leia interrupted him smoothly. “First, I need to know about the plan itself.”

  Chivkyrie looked across the table at his fellow Rebels, the light peeking through the aeration hole in his elongated skull as he did so. “I propose to bring Shelsha sector to the side of the Rebellion.” He looked at Leia. “The entire sector.”

  “Interesting,” Leia said, keeping her diplomat’s face firmly in place. “How exactly would this be achieved?”

  “That is the most delicious part of the plan,” Chivkyrie said. “We—the Rebel Alliance—would need do very little. It is Governor Choard himself who has proposed this.”

  “He’s said as much to you?” Leia asked.

  “Not the governor personally,” Chivkyrie said “But I’ve spoken at length with his assistant, Chief Administrator Vilim Disra. He assures me Governor Choard has already set in motion a plan for Shelsha to withdraw from the Empire and declare its independence.”

  [Which is not the same as stating Shelkonwa will, in fact, join the Rebellion as an active member,] Slanni pointed out.

  “Chief Administrator Disra has assured me that will be the next step,” Chivkyrie said. “Governor Choard has become increasingly appalled by the horrors of Imperial Center’s rule, and understands that joining the Rebellion is the only answer.”

  “If Imperial Center actually allows such open defiance to occur,” Vokkoli rumbled, the subsonics from his deep voice sending vibrations through the table. “The Freedonna Kaisu believe that Palpatine would respond instead by turning the full might of the Imperial Fleet against Shelkonwa.”

  “Which is precisely why an alliance with the Rebellion is vital to Choard’s success,” Chivkyrie countered. “Simultaneous attacks by our forces elsewhere across the galaxy would tie down many of the Imperial forces that would otherwise be used against Shelsha sector.”

  [The Shining Hope agrees with Leader Chivkyrie that the political and psychological gains of such a move would be immense,] Slanni said. [But we do not agree that Choard intends to actually join the Alliance.] He gestured to Vokkoli. [Nor do we believe, as Leader Vokkoli has suggested, that the Alliance possesses the military strength to sufficiently dilute Palpatine’s response.]

  “Whether or not our actions would be sufficient depends directly on the extent of Governor Choard’s preparations,” Chivkyrie pointed out.

  “I agree,” Leia said, trying to sort through the implications of this unexpected bombshell. Slanni was right—the news that an entire sector had seceded from the Empire would be devastating to the illusion of unity that Palpatine had so carefully constructed around his New Order. It would create a natural rallying point for discontent and give the Rebellion a legitimacy the Alliance could never hope to achieve by itself. In fact, a breakaway sector could very well prove to be the beginning of the end for Palpatine’s rule.

  On the other, darker hand, it had been precisely the same sort of Separatist movement a generation earlier that had torn the Republic to bloody pieces. The last thing she and the other Alliance leaders wanted was a repeat of that era’s mass chaos and death. “Do we know anything about Choard’s own plans?” she asked Chivkyrie.

  “I know he is preparing and positioning forces to take control of key installations,” Chivkyrie said. “Beyond that, I hav
e no specifics.”

  “Specifics that are of primary importance,” Vokkoli said.

  “Indeed,” Chivkyrie agreed, nodding to the Mungra. “That is precisely why I asked Princess Leia Organa to join us.”

  Leia felt her breath catch as she suddenly understood where the conversation was heading. Of course Chivkyrie hadn’t talked directly to Choard—a sector governor was vastly above him in tier rank, and for an Adarian that made a one-on-one conversation unthinkable. But Leia was a princess of royal Alderaanian blood, even if the world that had granted her that title no longer existed. “Do you know whether or not the governor would be willing to speak with me?” she asked.

  “Chief Administrator Disra has assured me the governor would speak with anyone of his own tier,” Chivkyrie assured her. “With your permission, we will leave immediately for Shelkonwa.”

  “You haven’t given him my name, have you?” Leia asked.

  “Of course not,” Chivkyrie said, looking rather scandalized. “For one thing, I was not certain whom the Rebel Alliance would send. For another, I would never have brought any name to him without permission.” He looked across the table again. “But Chief Administrator Disra has warned me that the governor’s preparations are nearly complete,” he added. “If we are to be a part of this, we must move quickly.”

  “I understand the need for haste,” Leia said. “Yet Leader Vokkoli and Planning Director Slanni are also correct in their concerns. This would involve great risk for the Rebel Alliance, yet might come to nothing.”

  “All of life involves risks that may come to nothing,” Chivkyrie said, some impatience creeping into his tone. “You of the Alliance leadership claim you seek to draw all enemies of the Empire beneath one roof. If you are unwilling to accept Governor Choard to that gathering, perhaps it is not truly unity that you seek.”

  [But is it our victory Governor Choard seeks?] Slanni countered. [Or would he gain his independence only to turn and banish us from his territory?]

  Thus turning Shelsha sector into a neutral zone, perhaps as part of a deal with Palpatine to allow Shelkonwa more freedom from Imperial rule? Similar things had been done in the past, Leia knew, in the Corporate Sector and other places. If Choard’s new freedom was accompanied by public pronouncements of his loyalty to Imperial Center, Palpatine might be willing to play along, especially if the alternative was to divert the military resources necessary to bring Shelkonwa back into line. The end result would be that Choard would gain the limited independence he apparently wanted, and the Alliance would have fought and died for nothing.

  Or it could be worse. Choard could be a completely loyal Imperial, with all of this nothing more than an elaborate attempt to lure a few Alliance leaders into a trap.

  “If we let this opportunity slip past unhindered, Governor Choard will surely be defeated,” Chivkyrie said into her thoughts. “His bid for freedom will become nothing more than a footnote to the dark history of Palpatine’s rule.” He cocked his head toward her. “And the Republic Redux will need to consider whether the Rebel Alliance is truly the proper home for us.”

  So there it was. Mon Mothma had warned Leia that Vokkoli and Slanni had threatened to pull out of the Alliance if Chivkyrie’s plan was accepted. Now Chivkyrie was delivering the same ultimatum.

  One way or the other, it seemed, the unity of Rebel forces in Shelsha sector was doomed.

  But maybe she could postpone that doom, at least for a while. “I will not give in to blackmail,” she warned Chivkyrie, putting a double helping of royal displeasure into her voice. “But neither will I dismiss out of hand any possibility of bringing about our ultimate victory against the Empire. I will return to my ship and communicate with my fellow Alliance leaders. If they agree, I will come with you to Shelkonwa to assess the situation.”

  She looked over at Vokkoli and Slanni. “I would also ask for your presence and counsel on this journey,” she added.

  Chivkyrie stirred in his seat but remained silent. Vokkoli looked down at Slanni, then back up at Leia. “We would be honored to accompany you, Princess,” the Mungra said gravely. “May the Force be with you and your decisions.”

  “Thank you,” Leia said, suppressing a grimace as she stood up. The Force. If only she had the Jedi ability to tap into that source of power and wisdom. But she didn’t. “I’ll be back within the hour.”

  “I will await your return,” Chivkyrie said gravely. “But be warned: within that same hour I return to my home. With you, or without.”

  Luke was playing lightsaber games with the practice remote when Han arrived from the cockpit. “What, again?” he growled to Chewbacca, who was watching from just inside the room.

  The Wookiee rumbled the logical question.

  “No, I don’t know where else he would practice,” Han admitted. “But who says he has to practice aboard the Falcon at all? What happens if he slices through a wiring conduit or hydraulic line, or cuts off his own arm?”

  Still, he had to admit that Luke was getting better with the ridiculous weapon. Those first few times old Kenobi had run him through the drill, the kid had blocked maybe one attack in ten. Now, as Han watched, the remote launched a six-shot attack, only one of which got through. “He could still cut off an arm,” he muttered.

  Chewbacca warbled a reminder of Luke’s ambitions and responsibilities.

  “Yeah, and I’ll bet that if he practices every day, he’ll grow up to be a terrific Jedi Knight,” Han said with only a little sarcasm. “Luke? Hey—Luke.”

  There was a slight pause, as if the kid had to readjust his attention to something besides the remote. “What is it?” he asked, turning to look at Han. “Oh—hi, Chewie. Didn’t see you there.”

  Mentally, Han shook his head. Some all-seeing, all-knowing Jedi Knight Luke was. Simple tricks and nonsense, just like he’d always said. “We’re coming up on the Purnham system,” he told Luke. “Need to fire up the quads.”

  “Right.” Closing down his lightsaber, Luke stepped around the still-humming remote and touched a switch on the engineering control panel, sending the hovering ball scooting back to its charging station.

  As he did so, the familiar two-tone approach warning sounded. “Come on—move it,” Han said, crossing to the ladder and heading down. “Casement’s going to be real unhappy if the pirates make it to the party before we do.”

  “There,” Marcross said, pointing ahead out the canopy. “One freighter, dead ahead.”

  “Got it,” Quiller confirmed, his fingers tapping their way across his board as he keyed for an ID. “It’s … not our Corellian. Looks like a Surronian of some kind—not familiar with the particular model.”

  “You reading any weaponry?” LaRone asked.

  “Couple of blaster cannons,” Quiller said. “Nothing unusual for this class.”

  “Easy pickings, in other words,” Marcross muttered. “When exactly is the Corellian due?”

  “Assuming he stayed with the speed he was doing when he jumped, he could be here anytime,” Quiller said. “If he really pushed it, he might conceivably have come and gone already.”

  “I didn’t know YT-1300s could go that fast,” Brightwater said.

  “They can’t; this one can,” Quiller told him. “I was reading all sorts of interesting upgrades and modifications before they jumped. If these guys aren’t pirates, I’m betting they’re either smugglers or blockade runners.”

  There was a trill from the board. “Company,” Quiller announced, peering at his displays. “Coming out from that cluster of asteroids to starboard.”

  “I see them,” LaRone said grimly. There were two ships swinging into view, patrol boats of some sort, sleek and fast and heavily armed. The Corellian ship they’d been tracking might or might not be a pirate, but these two definitely were.

  And they were on the hunt. Swinging their bows around, they accelerated toward the distant freighter. “Intercept in about ninety seconds,” Quiller warned. “LaRone?”

  LaRone pursed hi
s lips. “Well, if all we want is a few random pirates to interrogate—”

  “Whoa—there he is!” Grave said suddenly, pointing ahead and to the left. “There’s our Corellian.”

  “Son-of-a-drabble,” Brightwater breathed. “They did get here ahead of us.”

  “And there they go,” Marcross added as the YT-1300 put on a burst of speed. “Looks like he’s targeting our pirates.”

  “Nothing like having a full buffet to choose from,” Quiller commented. “You have any preferences as to which ships live through the next few minutes?”

  LaRone studied the situation unfolding in front of them. Standard military procedure would call for disabling all three suspect ships if possible and sorting out friend from foe later. But until he’d worked through his own vague feelings and impressions of the Corellian and his friends—“Go for the two patrol ships,” he ordered. “We know they’re pirates. Target their engines first, and try to disable at least one without blasting it to rubble.”

  “What about the Corellian?” Grave asked.

  “Leave him alone for now,” LaRone said. “Don’t fire on him unless he fires on us first.”

  Brightwater tapped Grave’s shoulder. “That’s our cue,” he said. “Let’s go find out how accurate these cannons are at long range.”

  The pirate ships were looming ever larger as Chewie closed the distance, and Luke was settling his mind into Jedi combat mode when he heard the familiar voice again whispering into his mind. Luke.

  “Yes, I know,” Luke muttered, focusing his thoughts on the pirates.

  Don’t focus, Ben’s voice admonished. Not yet. First seek out and identify all possible threats, wherever they may lurk.

  Luke frowned. Wherever they may lurk? What was that supposed to mean?

  Stretch out to the Force, Luke. In all directions.

  Grimacing, Luke emptied his mind, forcing himself to ignore the obvious targets directly ahead of him, and sent his awareness flowing outward. Though where any other danger could possibly be coming from—