Refugee: Force Heretic II

by Sean Williams

  “No,” said the hooded figure in bronze—a woman with a rich contralto voice. “Just as our families are defined by their function in society, so are we defined by our roles as representatives of those families. We are here before you not as people, but as the beginning and end points of a decision-making process.”

  “No names?” Mara asked, not attempting to hide her annoyance.

  “No names,” agreed the green-robed figure. This one was a male—and young by the sound of his voice.

  “But you know who we are.”

  “As is our right,” Bronze said. “After all, it is you who come to us for help. You do not need to know who acts on behalf of the Chiss. We represent everyone.”

  “You must tell us what it is you want,” said the figure in rust-red.

  Gray nodded in agreement. “Then we can give you our decision.”

  “We do not decide lightly,” Copper-green added.

  “But our decision will be final,” Bronze concluded. “Do you agree to these conditions?”

  “What if we don’t?” Mara asked, resting back in her seat and folding her arms defiantly across her chest.

  “Then you will be asked to leave,” Aabe said. His tone left no doubt that asked to leave was a euphemism.

  “Our request is simple,” Luke said, heading off a protest from Mara. “We are looking for the living planet, Zonama Sekot. We have reason to believe that it might be hiding in what we refer to as the Unknown Regions. As the major power in these regions, you have every right to question our presence here. It is my hope that you will assist us—either passively, by permitting us to cross your borders unhindered, or actively, by allowing us access to any information you have on the subject.”

  “That is all?” Gray asked, possibly surprised by the simplicity of the request.

  Luke nodded. “That is all.”

  “And what have you achieved in your quest so far?” Bronze asked.

  Luke explained where their mission had taken them, outlining the numerous systems they’d surveyed on the inner edge of the Unknown Regions, the various civilizations they had briefly touched upon, the hints of Zonama Sekot they had received. Invariably the clues came to them in the form of a story told by grandparents, or a dimly recalled memory. Their efforts had been frustrated by the absence of solid evidence. Since the planet had a tendency to avoid systems containing any sort of advanced civilization, there were no actual physical records to prove that it had ever really been anywhere. It was as if they were chasing a ghost that had vanished decades ago.

  “And yet despite this, you seem confident of success,” Copper-green said.

  “We would not have taken on the mission in the first place had we not believed it achievable,” Luke said. “And we will do what we must to ensure its success.”

  “And why must you do this, exactly?” Rust, the second woman of the four, sounded genuinely puzzled. “Commander Irolia is uncertain on this point. Although she believes that you are trustworthy, your goal seems incredible and your motives are obscure. You cannot blame us for being cautious.”

  Luke sighed. “No, I cannot. And if I were you, I would be wary, too. I can only say that we are willing to take any steps you require in order to demonstrate our veracity in this matter.”

  “Except discontinue your quest,” Gray said.

  “Except that, yes. We will continue to search for Zonama Sekot, with or without your help.”

  There was a moment’s silence in which Jacen sensed that the Chiss representatives were conferring behind their hoods, but he couldn’t read exactly what it was they were saying. Strong-willed people were notoriously hard to read, and the Chiss were about as strong-willed as a race could be.

  “What of this new Alliance of yours?” Bronze asked. “Are we required to join it?”

  “No,” Luke said. “Although the fact that we have common enemies suggest that there might be advantages in doing so, someday.”

  “Indeed, there might be,” Rust said, nodding slowly.

  “On the matter of your presence within our borders,” Copper-green said, “it is an issue upon which we find ourselves somewhat divided.”

  “Two of our number are willing to allow you free access to Chiss territories,” Gray said, “on the grounds that there is little you will find here that either we do not already know or will do us harm.”

  “If Zonama Sekot truly existed within our borders,” Bronze added, “we would surely know about it already.”

  “On the other hand,” Copper-green said, “the vagueness of your motives calls into question the true purpose of your mission. It can be argued that the issue of Zonama Sekot is a cover for something more sinister.”

  “While it is true,” Rust said, “that we have as yet seen no evidence of hostile intent, your presumption to come here without first asking questions is arrogance of the first order and should not be encouraged.”

  “So we find ourselves at an impasse,” Bronze said.

  “A tie,” Copper-green said.

  Gray inclined his head. “This is not an uncommon situation, given the diversity of our needs.”

  “As in all such situations, we turn to the Expansionary Defense Fleet to cast the deciding vote.” Rust turned to her left. “Chief Navigator Aabe?”

  Jacen inwardly groaned. There was no way Aabe was going to vote in their favor.

  The ex-Imperial looked superciliously down his nose at Luke and the others seated before him. “The case seems quite clear to me,” he said. “We cannot allow intruders to travel unchecked through our territory, for that would betray the trust of the Chiss people. There have been numerous incursions of late by the Yuuzhan Vong, and any relaxation of security now will only encourage such problems to go unnoticed. From the position of internal as well as external security, I advise that we do not give permission for this expedition to freely wander Chiss space.”

  Both Luke and Mara moved simultaneously, as though each was about to protest the decision.

  “However,” Aabe went on, raising a hand to cut off whatever it was they’d been about to say, “I am reasonably certain that the Skywalkers’ intentions are honorable, and it is not in the Chiss nature to turn away those genuinely in need. Therefore, in the interest of good relations, and the hope that something may actually come of this quest, I would like to suggest a compromise. The thing the Skywalkers need more than freedom of access is information. No single mission could cover the entire Unknown Regions in a practical amount of time, even with the records of the Imperial Remnant as a guide. I propose that the Skywalkers and their allies be given full access to the Expeditionary Library here on Csilla, in order that they might conduct their search in safety.”

  Mara sank uncertainly into her seat, while Luke beside her could only lift his eyebrows in surprise. Jacen had to admit that Aabe’s suggestion did make a kind of sense—although exactly for whom it was “safer” remained unclear. Was the chief navigator referring to the crews of Jade Shadow and Widowmaker, or was he implying that Chiss space would be better off without these ships roaming through it? Either way, Jacen was as surprised as his uncle that the ex-Imperial officer had actually suggested it at all.

  “There is one condition,” Aabe said.

  Ah, Jacen thought. Here comes the catch.

  “I would not want the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances to mistake our intentions,” Aabe continued. “This offer should be open for a strictly limited period. If the Skywalkers and their companions have failed to find what they require within that time, then the offer will be rescinded and they will be required to immediately leave Chiss space.”

  “How long do you think will be necessary?” Copper-green asked.

  “Two standard days should be sufficient,” Aabe replied. “After all, how hard can it be to search for a living planet that appears and disappears across the galaxy? There are only so many legends one can trace, and our library is second to none.”

  The four robed figures nodded in unified agr
eement. “We regard this as an acceptable compromise,” Bronze said. “Master Skywalker?”

  Luke straightened his shoulders and rose to his feet. “I accept the terms of your offer.”

  Jacen sensed Mara begging to differ, but outwardly she agreed.

  “Then you are free to begin whenever you wish,” Bronze said.

  All four representatives rose from their seats in unison, but it was Gray who spoke. “A guide from the Inrokini family will be assigned to instruct you on the use of the library. If you are ready, Chief Navigator Aabe and Commander Irolia will take you there now.”

  “Thank you,” Luke said, bowing.

  “That concludes our business,” Rust said. Without another word, she and the others turned and walked from the room.

  “That’s it?” Mara said, watching their backs disappear through the far door.

  “What more do you want?” Aabe asked. “We have been generous with our time and we will continue to be generous with our resources. There is no obligation to help you hanging over our head. You should be—” He stopped and shook his head. “I was about to say grateful, but that would be incorrect. Gratitude is an emotional response not necessarily contingent on what has been offered. Appropriately honored might be closer to what I meant to say.”

  “We are,” Luke said. “And we are also keen to start work as soon as possible.” He indicated the door. “May we?”

  Aabe nodded as he made for the door, saying, “I’m glad to see at least one of you appreciates the way of the Chiss.”

  The doors opened into the gardenlike hall, and Irolia and Aabe led the party through. They had barely traveled half the hall’s length when a tall figure stepped out of a small niche to intercept the group. Broad-shouldered and as solid as a wall, he stood in front of them as though daring them to try to get past him. A black patch covered one eye, matching his uniform; iron streaked his black hair and goatee.

  “Mara Jade,” he said. “We meet again.”

  She moved forward a step while Jacen and the others stopped.

  “That’s Mara Jade Skywalker, Soontir Fel,” she replied.

  Fel nodded in acknowledgment but made no effort to correct himself.

  “Chief Navigator Aabe had led us to believe that you were ‘absent,’ ” Mara commented.

  “That is patently not the case.”

  “So were you just avoiding us earlier?”

  “Avoiding the decision-making process, yes.” Fel’s voice was gravelly but strong. Jacen could see where Jagged Fel inherited his father’s presence, if not his width. “My thoughts are not unclouded by emotions over this issue. I recall offering you an alliance some time ago.”

  Mara nodded. “The irony wasn’t lost on me, either.”

  “You didn’t take it then, yet you expect us to take yours now.” The enormous frame of the man who had once been the Empire’s greatest TIE fighter pilot shifted minutely. It might have been a shrug, Jacen thought. “It is the way of the Chiss,” he went on, “to stand down and let another decide when one is unable to be impartial. I trusted Peita to view with clarity what I could not.”

  Fel’s gaze was as cold and sharp as an ice dagger. Jacen didn’t understand where the man’s hostility came from. It was one thing to be old enemies, but that didn’t explain the passion that so obviously burned behind the man’s gaze.

  Luke moved to stand beside his wife. “I believe we reached a satisfactory conclusion.” He held out his hand. “Under other circumstances, perhaps it’d be a pleasure, Soontir.”

  Fel hesitated, then returned the gesture, gripping Luke’s hand in his enormous fist. “We’re not allies yet, Skywalker.”

  “But we’re not enemies, either. Surely that counts for something.”

  Mara made a show of glancing at her chronometer. “We should really be going,” she said. “Those two days aren’t going to stick around forever.”

  “Indeed,” Fel said. His dark gaze swept the group gathered behind the Skywalkers. “The Expeditionary Library is some distance from here, in another enclave. Rather than move your ship, I suggest you allow me to provide you transport. The resources at my disposal are more secure than even those the Chiss normally offer.”

  Luke hesitated, and Jacen could sense his uncle conferring with Mara. He was sure that Luke’s concerns reflected his own reservations. Aabe’s decision to allow them access to the library had surprised him, but Jacen could see how it might be a ploy to separate them from the ship. And he knew Mara wouldn’t want to be any farther from Jade Shadow than was absolutely necessary.

  But did they dare risk offending Fel by refusing his offer? Or could they afford the time it would take to move their own ship when a convenient alternative was available? After all, as Mara had said, two days wasn’t a lot of time to play with.

  “Thank you,” Luke said in the end. “Your offer would certainly save us some time.”

  “But if you try anything, Soontir …” Mara let the threat go unstated, but there was no mistaking it in her tone or body language.

  Fel almost smiled. “Believe me: if I had wanted to try something, I would have done so long before now.” He turned away. “Time is wasting. We cannot afford to be standing here chatting like fools. If you’re going to come with me, then I suggest you do so now. Because the deadline is not going to change.”

  “You’ll make sure of that, will you?” Mara asked.

  He fixed her with another steely gaze. “You can count on it, Mara Jade Skywalker.”

  Jaina was exhausted by the time they returned to their quarters after the first day on Bakura. The meeting with the Senate had been postponed so Prime Minister Cundertol could attend, leaving them stuck with junior officials and restless flunkies. When the time finally came, the presence of the Galactic Alliance delegation was completely swamped by Cundertol’s triumphant appearance and the banquet that followed. His long, somewhat rambling and self-congratulatory speech was greeted with cheers from the Senate and the press galleries, but left her agreeing with Jag’s impression: The Prime Minister of Bakura was a good-looking figurehead, but a little too obsessed with his own interests to be a good statesperson.

  Nevertheless, the banquet hadn’t been too bad. Men and women in formal attire had provided attentive service, rather than droids, making Jaina feel very out of place in her expedition uniform. The food had been excellent, and she’d had the chance to sample some of the Namana nectar she’d heard so much about, a liqueur the Bakurans were particularly proud of. And rightfully so, she had to admit. Orange in color, it caressed her taste buds like a slow-burning ray of sunlight. She’d only taken a sip, however; she didn’t want her reflexes dulled. Judging by its effects on the people around her, her decision had been a wise one.

  Two people who had also stayed resolutely sober were Cundertol and his deputy, Blaine Harris. She wondered if that explained her impression that, despite the seemingly friendly and polite exchanges between them, underneath the surface simmered a powerful tension. It might have been a mutual dislike of each other, but why that should be, exactly, Jaina wasn’t sure. They were political running mates, after all. It could have been nothing more than the fact that both were powerful personalities and dominating men. Working together in such close but clearly defined roles would undoubtedly chafe.

  Still, it made her curious. She wondered how Harris had felt upon receiving the news of Cundertol’s kidnapping. She imagined that part of him would have been secretly relieved to be rid of him. If the Prime Minister died or disappeared, his deputy would be the natural successor. The question of whether Harris had been involved in the kidnapping itself therefore had to be asked. And if he had, then Malinza Thanas’s arrest would have been little more than a deliberate attempt by Harris to find a scapegoat.

  Really, though, there was nothing she could pin down to justify either Jag’s nebulous suspicions, or her own. Cundertol’s Force presence was strong and clear: He was who he said he was, and his thoughts were his own.

  Eve
n Lwothin, the P’w’eck advance leader, seemed nothing but pleased at Cundertol’s return. A little relieved, perhaps—but that was understandable, given that the consecration of Bakura was due to take place the very next day. With Cundertol back and the popular leader of the resistance behind bars, there was no reason for the Keeramak to further delay its arrival. The dull-scaled saurian hadn’t partaken of the local delicacies, preferring instead to stick to a dish of fft—a multilegged lizard that had been imported from Lwhekk especially for the occasion. Throughout the banquet he seemed to be carefully observing the people and the goings-on around him, and although Jaina’s eyes met his on several occasions, she found his golden gaze completely unreadable.

  “Anyone else feel like we’re the odd ones out?” Han asked, collapsing onto a floating couch. Their rooms weren’t as finely appointed as the ones they’d had on Galantos, but that suited Jaina just fine. Too much hospitality only made her edgy.

  “They’re just caught up in their own affairs.” As was often the case, Leia’s input on the matter was in opposition to her husband’s, but to show she wasn’t being argumentative, she sat on the couch beside Han and took his hand in hers. She didn’t mean to be contrary; she simply wanted to make sure that every situation was properly viewed from all angles. It had taken Jaina a long time to understand the way her mother’s mind worked, something her twin brother seemed to have picked up instinctively a long time ago. “They’ll get around to us when they have reason to.”

  “Perhaps they should be reminded of those reasons,” Jaina said, talking over her shoulder as she set up the same anti-bugging equipment they’d used on Galantos. “They’ve got problems a simple treaty isn’t going fix, because if that illegal transmission we received is anything to go by, then the resistance infiltrators are high up the command chain. Locking Malinza Thanas away isn’t going to magically erase that fact. If anything, it could make it worse.”

  In the corner of her eye, she noticed Tahiri moving restlessly through the rooms, as though searching for something, and wondered what the younger Jedi was doing.