“The entire Dornean Navy numbers barely eighty vessels,” Senator Marook said with a grand gesture of contempt.
Standing by the back wall of the Conference room, Princess Leia rolled her eyes and shook her head. It was wholly predictable that the complainant was Marook. Hrasskis society was built around a strict notion of succession by seniority, and the highest social value was waiting one's turn. After five years in the Senate, he still had not embraced the notion of basing appointments on merit.
“And yet, the Dornean Navy successfully defended Dornea's independence throughout the reign of Palpatine, against Imperial forces several times as large,” said Princess Leia, intervening in the hope of cutting the argument short. “Come now, Senator Marook—surely this is an inappropriate time to argue over command assignments. Let's move on.”
Admiral Ackbar held up his broad hand. “Princess Leia, if you please—there is no better time to put this to rest. I have heard rumors of discontent in the Council for weeks, but this is the first time anyone has voiced such sentiments in my hearing. I would like the chance to explain to Senator Marook exactly why he is so terribly wrong.”
Even offered in his measured tones, such a direct rebuke was out of character for Admiral Ackbar, and told Leia how angry her Calamari friend was. “Very well, Admiral,” she said, nodding and settling into a seat to listen.
Given the floor, Ackbar proceeded to ignore Senator Marook completely, addressing himself to the rest of the gathering. “You must understand that the problems of invading a planetary body from space, or defending one against an invasion, are quite different from the problems of destroying a planet, or blockading one, or laying siege to one.”
Ackbar moved out from behind the podium. “And it is a set of problems with which we have had very little experience. The veterans of the Alliance, whom Senator Marook so kindly praised, know all the secrets of fighting as an insurgent force—the roles of stealth, of mobility, of hit-and-run tactics, of disrupting the enemy's lines of supply and communication.
“But a commando force cannot defend a home-world, a system, a sector. A commando force cannot tie up its assets waiting to be attacked. A commando force cannot carry out an invasion. You should remind yourself that at no time in its history did the Alliance enjoy the resources to fight a conventional war. And the one time we were forced by circumstance to do so, at Hoth, we suffered a terrible defeat.
“That is why Etahn A'baht was selected to command the Fifth Fleet. He brings to that bridge all the hard-won expertise of the Dornea, an expertise which I cannot match. And it is his tactical plan which we are testing at Bessimir,” Ackbar said, pointing at the screens behind him.
“Unlike my colleague from the Hrasskis, I do not question the qualifications of General A'baht. I am more concerned about the sharp end of the knife than I am with who wields it,” said Senator Tig Peramis, rising from his seat near the door. “Admiral Ackbar, I have questions concerning the conditions of the test.”
Leia's attention immediately perked up. Senator Peramis was the newest member of the Council on the Common Defense, representing the worlds of the Seventh Security Zone, including his own, Walalla. So far he had been a quiet member, diligently studying the Council records that his new level of clearance opened to his eyes, asking many thoughtful questions, and expressing few opinions.
“Proceed,” said Admiral Ackbar, making a sweeping gesture.
“You chose to send the Fifth Fleet against a target which lacks a planetary shield. Why is that?”
“Senator, it is not possible to assault a planet which enjoys the protection of a planetary shield until that shield has been disabled. We would learn nothing about our new tactics from such an exercise. And there are far more worlds like Bessimir than there are worlds with the wealth and technology to sustain a planetwide shield.”
“But, Admiral, did you not warn the Council that it was exactly those well-armed worlds which the New Republic lacked the capacity to confront? And did you not promise the Council that if we built the Fifth Fleet, even the strongest of the old Imperial worlds would not be able to threaten us with impunity?”
Ackbar nodded gravely. “I believe that we are keeping that promise, Senator Peramis. The defense of Bessimir was designed in accord with our existing threat profiles. Operation Hammerblow represents a likely scenario for the use of the Fifth Fleet.”
“What, to overwhelm an underdefended world?”
“Senator, I did not say . . .”
“This is exactly the point that concerns me. An army fights as it trains,” said Senator Peramis. “Did you build the Fifth Fleet to protect us against a strategic threat, or to strengthen Coruscant? Does the danger you saw lie outside our borders, or within them?”
He turned and pointed an accusing finger in Leia's direction.
“Exactly who are you preparing to invade?”
Ackbar blinked, rendered wordless by surprise. The other officers in the room scowled and bristled. The other members of the Council were taken aback—by Peramis's intimations themselves, or, like Senator Marook, by his temerity in speaking out of turn.
“I can only think that if you had been here when the votes were taken, Senator Peramis, you would not ask such questions,” Leia said sharply, moving to the front of the room with a purposeful stride and a swirl of robes. “You unfairly malign Admiral Ackbar's honor.”
“I do not malign him in the slightest. I am sure Admiral Ackbar is faithful in his duties and loyal to his superiors,” Peramis said, looking purposefully at Leia.
“How dare you!” bellowed Senator Tolik Yar as he leaped to his feet. “If you do not withdraw your words, I will knock you down myself.”
Leia sent a small, tight smile in the direction of her champion but waved off his assistance. “Senator Peramis, the Fifth Fleet was built to protect the New Republic, and for no other reason. We have no territorial aspirations, no hunger for conquest. How could we, with ten new applications for membership arriving every day? On the honor of the House of Organa, I give my word—the Fifth Fleet will never be used to invade a member world, or to coerce its will, or subdue its legitimate ambitions.”
Even before he spoke, it was clear that Peramis was unimpressed. “What weight shall I give a vow made on the honor of an extinct family—a family you have no blood claim with?”
Tolik Yar's face flushed, and his hand moved toward the ceremonial dagger he wore on his breastplate.
But the hand of the officer standing beside him stayed the impulse.
“Wait,” General Antilles said softly. “Give him a little more rope.”
Senator Peramis swept his gaze across the room and found that every face was turned toward him. “I am sorry to spoil the festive moment, and waste the expensive pyrotechnics thoughtfully arranged for us by Admiral Ackbar and General A'baht. I am sorry to raise Senator Yar's blood pressure, and to offend Senator Marook's well-honed sense of propriety. But I cannot be silent.
“What I've learned in the months since I took my Council oath, what I've heard and seen today, alarms me profoundly. If I could, I would speak of this in the well of the Senate, before the eyes of the entire Republic. You have not bought security—you have built the machinery of oppression, and are about to hand it over to the progeny of the most brutal oppressor in history's memory.
“I am deeply, unalterably opposed to arming the New Republic against its own members—”
“You are mistaken—” Admiral Ackbar began.
“That is what you've done!” Senator Peramis said angrily. “The Fifth Fleet is a weapon of conquest and tyranny, nothing less and nothing more. And once a wea'pon is forged, it tantalizes, and tempts, and transfixes, until someone finds a reason to use it. You've given the son of Darth Vader a glittering temptation to follow his father's path. You've given the daughter of Darth Vader a gift-wrapped invitation to secure her power by force of arms.
“And yet you sit here smiling and nodding and swallowing the fiction that all of it
is for your protection. I am ashamed for you—ashamed.” Senator Peramis shook his head vigorously, as though to clear it of unwelcome thoughts, then stalked out of the conference room.
Leia quickly turned her head away, struggling to control her expression, and to conceal the struggle.
The stunned silence was broken by embarrassed coughing and the squirming, shuffling sounds of officers and Council members shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
“Chairman! Chairman Behn-kihl-nahm!” Senator Tolik Yar exclaimed, finding his voice at last. “I want him reprimanded! I want him brought before the Review! This is intolerable. The Seventh must send someone else to represent it. Intolerable, do you hear?”
“We all hear, Senator Yar,” Behn-kihl-nahm said in his most silken, soothing voice as he moved toward Leia. “President Organa, allow me to apologize for Senator Peramis's regrettable lapse—”
Tolik Yar snorted. “Why not apologize for the Emperor's regrettable lapses as well? It would mean about as much.”
Behn-kihl-nahm ignored the comment. “You may remember, Princess Leia, that the hand of the Empire fell heavily on Walalla. Tig Peramis remembers all too well. He was only a boy, watching his world conquered, his people's spirit destroyed. The memories fill him with a passion which inspires his diligence but betrays his good sense. I will speak with him. I am sure he already regrets his intemperate words.”
Behn-kihl-nahm's exit was the cue for the room to empty. The others nearly fell over each other in their eagerness to excuse themselves, the ritual etiquette of salutes, congratulations, and good wishes so rushed that it took on the flavor of farce. Almost before she knew it, Leia was alone with Admiral Ackbar.
As she lifted a weary face to Ackbar's sympathetic gaze, she attempted a wry smile. “I thought that went well—didn't you?”
Just then, an image of General A'baht appeared on the primary display screen. “Etahn A'baht, reporting to Fleet Ops, Coruscant with copy to president of the Senate,” the image said. “Live-fire exercise Hammerblow satisfactorily concluded. Detailed report on casualties, deficiencies, and the performance of individual commands to follow. Recommend that the Fifth Defense Task Force be considered operational this date.”
Then the display went dark.
Ackbar nodded, and clasped Leia's shoulder with one large hand in a friendly and comforting gesture.
“Well enough, Madame President,” he said. “Better to face bitter words than to face more fighting and dying. I think we have all had enough of that for a lifetime.”
She stared out the doorway through which Pera-mis had exited. “How could he be so foolish?” she asked plaintively. “After Palpatine, Hethrir, Durga, Daala, Thrawn—one after another, with hardly enough time in between to heal the wounds and patch the hulls—how could he think we love war so much?”
“I have found that most foolishness begins with fear,” said Ackbar.
“I'm not accustomed to being feared.” Leia shook her head. “Especially for no reason. It makes me angry.”
Ackbar grunted sympathetically. “I intend to go to my quarters and bite the head off a frozen ormachek. I suggest you go home and find something ugly to smash.”
Leia laughed tiredly and patted Ackbar's hand. “I just may do that. You know, I think we still have that Calamari blessing pot you gave Han and me at our wedding—”
Chapter 2
A hot, humid, breeze blew across the crown of Temple Atun, the steepest of the ruined temples of the Massassi on Yavin 4. Luke Skywalker turned his face into the wind and looked out over the vibrant jungle that stretched unbroken to the horizon.
The enormous orange disk of the gas giant Yavin dominated the sky, hanging just above the edge of the world as its fourth moon turned toward night.
Even after five years, Luke found it a compelling, nearly overwhelming sight. He had grown up on Tatooine, where the only stars in the night were pale speckles of white on a black canvas, and where the terrible daytime heat came from two disks he could easily block from view simply by raising his hand. This, I will miss, he thought.
For months Luke had been using Temple Atun as his sanctuary. Unlike the Great Temple, which had been given new life as the home of the Jedi praexeum, Atun had been left as it had been found, its mechanisms inert, its passageways dark. Its outer chambers had been looted, but a trap made of two great sliding stones had long ago sealed off the upper chambers. The trap still held the crushed bodies of the would-be thieves who had tripped it.
Something tickled Luke's consciousness at the hazy fringe of awareness. He closed his eyes and lowered his inner shields long enough to search the temple, reading the currents of the Force as they flowed around and beneath him.
There was life everywhere, for the creatures of Yavin 4 had long ago claimed what the Massassi had abandoned. Collapsed stairways limited most vermin to the lower levels. But stonebats had made nests in tiny ventilation shafts all over the temple's face, and Luke shared the eyrie with purple-winged kitehawks, which soared into the sky each evening to search the jungle's upper canopy for prey.
There was an unfamiliar presence, too—but not an unexpected one.
Streen was coming, as Luke had asked.
Luke had given Streen no instructions except to meet him at the top of Temple Atun, thereby turning the keeping of the appointment into a final test, and the temple into a puzzle and potential horror-house.
Concealing himself by exerting no will at all on the currents of the Force, Luke marked his protégé’s progress.
Even as an apprentice, Streen had distinguished himself by his maturity. That quality was evident in his purposeful ascent of the tower. He moved lightly through the rookeries, surefootedly through the dark passages.
The last fifty meters of the trip to the crown required a dizzying fingertips-and-toes climb up the steep, crumbling sunset face of Temple Atun. As Streen neared the top, Luke nudged the kitehawks into the air with a thought. They passed over Streen's head like beclawed shadows, crying and beating the air with their wings. But Streen did not startle. Holding very still, he made himself invisible against the crumbling stone until the kitehawks wheeled away, then finished his climb.
“I'm pleased,” Luke said, opening his eyes as Streen joined him. “You've confirmed me in my choice. Come, sit, and face the east with me.”
Streen complied wordlessly. The curve of Yavin was just touching the line of the horizon, forming the geometry of the symbol found everywhere on the Massassi ruins.
“Have you made any progress in your reading of the Books of Massassi?” asked Luke quietly.
He was referring to a collection of tablets unearthed from a collapsed underground chamber found two years earlier in the jungle nearby. The tablets were written in the dense, arcane symbology of the Sith, but not by a Sith consciousness. The Books were silent on their authorship, but Luke believed they were the creation of a single Massassi, a life work of essays in history and faith. A minority view held that they were the original sacred texts of the Massassi, an ancient oral tradition recorded by educated slaves.
“I thought I would have finished by now, but I've only reached the sixteenth Book,” Streen said. “Reading them is more tiring than I expected. It seems to be a thing that cannot be hurried.”
“And what have you learned about what the sight before us meant to those who built this place?”
“That Yavin was both a beautiful and a terrible god to the Massassi,” said Streen. “It lifted their eyes to the heavens, but made their hearts small and fearful.”
“Go on.”
Streen gestured toward the horizon. “If I have understood what I have read, the Massassi measured themselves against this all-dominating presence and found themselves wanting. They stood at the pinnacle of life on a fecund world, and yet felt themselves and their attainments to be nothing. And that paradox colored their entire history.”
“Yes,” said Luke. “They failed to learn the lesson of humility. The grander their works, the
more they ached for the power that still seemed so far out of reach. They gathered these stones for the Sith in a vain effort to touch the face of their god. And they pursued the dark power of the Sith in a vain effort to become like gods themselves.”
“It was a kind of madness.”
“A glimpse of the truth can bring on madness,” Luke said softly.
“What truth is that?”
“Look around us,” Luke said, spreading his hands. “The Massassi are gone, their works crumbling, battered by war, violated by trespassers. But Yavin still rules over their world.”
“Yes. Yes, I see.”
“Streen, I am leaving in the morning,” Luke said quietly. “I am no longer needed here. It is time for someone else to take over the Academy. I've chosen you.”
Those words succeeded in startling Streen in a way the kitehawks had failed to. “Leaving? I don't understand,” he said, turning toward Luke.
“Once the Force was to me like a whispered voice on the wind,” Luke said, standing and looking back toward the Great Temple. “Obi-Wan taught me to hear it, and Yoda to understand it. I trained myself to hear it no matter where I was. And in my turn I taught others to hear and understand. But I have not been hearing that voice well of late, though my hearing is more acute than ever. There is too much noise. There is too much I must screen out. There are too many questions, too many demands. Everyone seems to be shouting at me. It's painful, and tiring.”
He turned back to Streen. “I can no longer do this work. And the work I have to do cannot be done here.”
“Then it's time for you to leave,” Streen said, rising to his feet. “Past time, I think, now that I understand why you've been pulling away from us. And I will not ask where you are going.”
“Thank you,” Luke said. “Do you accept the burden I have offered you?”
“Yes,” said Streen, offering his open hand. “I accept it. I free you in good conscience from your duties. I will carry this weight now.” The two men clasped hands firmly and meaningfully. Then Streen smiled. “Though I don't feel ready.”
Star Wars - Black Fleet Crisis 1 - Before the Storm Page 3
