Leia leaned back. She had been fearing this.
“The term is just beginning,” said Gno. “If it were near the end, Leia, I would suggest closing the session with the representatives we have. But we are looking at three years and more in which certain planets will be underrepresented.”
“Exodeen lost its senior senator and its secondary senator,” said ChoFï. “Now it is only represented by R’yet Coome. That’s not good for any of us.”
“Don’t let your political biases interfere, ChoFï,” said Garm Bel Iblis. His craggy face had a look of exhaustion. “We have to get used to the former Imperials.”
“I worry that we’ll invite even more of them by having emergency elections,” Leia said.
“Or we give the ones already in the Senate more power,” Fey’lya said. “Leia, the Senate is based on the will of the voting republics. They have chosen former Imperials as their representatives. We cannot argue with that.”
Leia smiled sadly. “I suppose we can’t.”
“And we have to trust them to make the right choices in the future,” Fey’lya said.
The Bothan trusted no one. Even Leia knew that. “And what does your elaborate information say will happen if we hold elections now?”
Fey’lya’s fur rippled, the only sign he showed of distress. “Nothing would happen to the Bothans. We were surprisingly lucky in this.”
“If we hold the election quickly,” ChoFï said, “no one new would have time to mount a campaign. The losers of the last election would probably take office.”
“You can’t predict like that,” C-Gosf said. “My people would not elect someone who lost. Such a person can never run again, nor can that person ever hold a position of power. Once a loser on Gosfambling, always a loser.”
Leia glanced at C-Gosf. She hadn’t realized what her colleague had risked in running for the Senate.
“So what would happen on Gosfambling?” Leia asked.
“Someone who is already in power would be promoted,” she said.
“It’s a problem we’ve grappled with all along,” Gno said. “Imposing an electoral system on different cultures.”
“We have rules,” Fey’lya said.
“Yes,” ChoFï said, “and you should know perhaps better than the rest of us how cultures manipulate those rules.”
“The Bothans haven’t done anything untoward.”
“You mean illegal,” ChoFï said.
“It does no good to fight among ourselves,” Leia said. She sighed. “Gno is right. As much as I don’t want to, we have to hold emergency elections in those places where the representative was killed or is too injured to carry out official duties. And we have to do it soon, otherwise any legislation we enact will have the onus of being decided by a diminished council. We have enough troubles uniting the various members of the Republic. We don’t need additional problems.”
“You realize,” Bel Iblis said, “that we could create problems by having this rapid election.”
“You mean gain more former Imperials than we want?” Gno said. “We have to take the risk. Leia is right. The Senate is diminished already by the attack. To operate underrepresented would be a clear signal to those planets whose representation was lost that they are unimportant.”
“We can’t be afraid of our colleagues forever,” C-Gosf said. “We voted to allow former Imperials into the Senate. We have to accept them now.”
Leia nodded. She agreed, even though she didn’t want to. “Let’s set up the elections for one week from today,” she said, “and bring the new officials in as soon after that as they can come. No later than one month from now. Agreed?”
The members agreed. Leia called an official vote, and then moved to other business. But as she did, she couldn’t stop a chill from running up her spine.
Perhaps this was what her unseen enemy wanted. A rapid change in the Senate. Disorientation, destruction, and a sudden increase in new faces would cause fragmentation.
Fragmentation existed as Senator Palpatine took over the Old Republic Senate.
It would be up to Leia to prevent such a takeover from happening again.
Femon sat in her office on Almania. Death masks from a dozen different cultures covered her walls. Red, gold, blue, some with mouths open in agony and others looking serene, they all shared an eerieness that she had once found comforting.
She did no longer.
She had almost wiped the makeup from her face upon her return from Pydyr, but that would have been a clear sign that she no longer believed in Kueller. His hesitation in continuing the fight would be their downfall. He had said he wanted to replace the New Republic with a government of his own. She had believed him from the moment she met him.
The New Republic was weak, he said. They allowed too many threats to their own people. They spent too much time legislating things that could not be legislated and too little time effecting change.
Femon’s family had died six years ago, when the Eye of Palpatine swept over their planet. The Imperial star-ship operated on an old computer program whose mission had been established by the Emperor himself. Femon’s family had been killed in the crossfire as they tried to save others being lured onto the ship. Sure, the New Republic eventually stopped the Eye of Palpatine, but too late to save Femon’s loved ones.
The New Republic allowed too much Imperial equipment to remain on conquered planets. Several times, the Republic had allowed former Imperials, trying to reestablish their government, to threaten peaceful worlds. Too many times. The New Republic had never gone for the kill, had never executed those directly involved, had never done all that needed to be done to establish their own government firmly.
Kueller had said that the New Republic’s inability to destroy its enemies was the sign of a fatal weakness. He said it didn’t matter who ruled the galaxy as long as that rule was accomplished with an iron fist.
Now he was exhibiting the same weakness he had once attributed to the New Republic.
Femon could no longer support him.
She had pushed, on Pydyr and before, for him to strike swiftly and decisively. He had the power to do so. But he wanted to toy with Skywalker and Organa Solo.
He acted like a man who wanted revenge, but for something she didn’t completely understand.
It didn’t matter anymore. He was going to spend two more days on Pydyr, cataloging his wealth and meeting with his spies. Two days was more than enough time for her to take the decisive action he had failed to make.
She had the knowledge, the equipment, and the codes. She even had the ability to get rid of Kueller.
He had left himself wide-open on Pydyr.
By tomorrow, Kueller’s death mask would be real.
Twelve
The oily, metallic smell of the maintenance bay reminded Luke of days spent repairing his uncle’s speeder on Tatooine. He used to love hunching over equipment, looking for the small variances that would improve speed or accuracy. Another world. Another time.
Artoo moved silently behind him, inching closer the deeper they went into the bay. The Orders and Requisitions area had told Luke to come down here; all they had been able to confirm was that his X-wing was receiving routine maintenance as requested.
The main bay was empty except for several disassembled X-wings. Artoo wheeled his way toward the double maintenance doors and whistled.
“All right, Artoo,” Luke said. “Ill go there if I can’t find anyone. But let’s wait.”
His patience was rewarded a moment later when a young blond man—a boy, really—in mechanic’s clothing sauntered out of the back. He was wiping his hands on a formerly white cloth when he saw Luke.
“This is a restricted area,” the boy said. He wasn’t much older than Luke had been when his aunt and uncle died.
“I know,” Luke said. “I was sent by Orders and Requisitions. Apparently you have my X-wing down here.”
The boy shrugged. “If we do, we’re working on it. It’ll be done as soo
n as we can get to it.”
“It’s not supposed to be here.”
“You’ll need to take that up with Orders—”
“Look.” Luke stepped into the light, his Jedi cloak flowing behind him. “I don’t have time for this kind of runaround. I need the X-wing this afternoon. I was told it’s in pieces—”
“Then you won’t get it until it’s done. I’m sorry. Orders should never have sent you down here.”
“Perhaps not,” Luke said. “But they did. Let’s see if we can resolve this, shall we?”
The boy looked up. Apparently he hadn’t expected Luke to be reasonable. Artoo moved closer. “Your astromech unit shouldn’t be here either, you know.”
“I know,” Luke said. “But I need my X-wing today. Artoo works it with me.”
The boy pursed his lips as if the idea disgusted him. “You really didn’t plan to have your X-wing here, did you?”
“No,” Luke said. “Just regular maintenance, as I always do when I come to Coruscant.”
“Didn’t you see the memo from General Antilles?”
Wedge? What had Wedge to do with Luke’s X-wing? “Apparently not,” Luke said.
“Routine maintenance includes upgrading all X-wings to current clean fighter status.”
“That sounds costly,” Luke said.
The boy frowned. “Where did you say you came from?”
“I didn’t,” Luke said. “Where can I find Wedge?”
“General Antilles?” The boy gasped at Luke’s forwardness.
“I don’t know. I’ve never spoken to the man. Do you know him?”
Luke grinned. “A bit. We were in the same squadron at the Battle of Yavin.”
The boy dropped his rag. “Forgive me, sir. I had no idea. I—uh—I can leave a message for him on the system.”
“I can contact him myself if you just lead me to my ship.”
“Sir, the area is restricted.”
“We’ve been through this before,” Luke said. “My name is Luke Skywalker. All I want is to see the state of my X-wing and—”
“Luke Skywalker?” The boy’s voice squeaked. “The Jedi Knight? Why didn’t you say so in the first place, sir? I would have pulled some strings.”
“It’s not the Jedi way to take unfair advantage,” Luke said, although that wasn’t precisely true. “Let’s check on the X-wing, shall we?”
The boy punched up some codes in the computer, then wiped his hands on his brown mechanic’s pants. “If you’ll follow me, sir.”
Luke crossed the main bay. Artoo followed.
“You might want to leave your astromech unit here, sir. The equipment in the new X-wing bay isn’t droid-friendly, at least for R2 units.”
“Will he be in any danger?”
“No, sir, but the Kloperians don’t really like R2 units.”
“He noticed that the first time he was down here. Apparently he was imprisoned for a while.”
“Imprisoned?” the boy glanced over his shoulder. “Forgive me, sir, but you can’t imprison a droid.”
The boy thought Luke was being dramatic. Luke folded his hands over his robe, rather like Ben used to do. “He’s more than a droid,” Luke said. “Just like my X-wing is more than a tactical fighter.”
The smell of X-wing cleaning solvent was strong inside the new bay. More X-wing pieces were scattered about some already-reassembled ships. The new ships were streamlined. The long nose cone remained the same, but the area in the back that housed the astromech droids was gone.
The hair tingled on the back of Luke’s scalp. “Tell me about General Antilles’s order.”
“It came down last year, sir, after the prototype of the new X-wing arrived here. The new design works better in battle. It combines the computer system and the astromech unit into one complete system.”
“But that was tried a long time ago, and they discovered that if the unit broke down, the pilot was in grave danger.”
The boy shrugged. “They’ve overcome that bug, sir. The changes in droid and computer technology just in the last six months have been astonishing. We can do things that we’ve never been able to do before. Where’ve you been that you didn’t know about this?”
“Yavin 4,” Luke said, suddenly feeling old and out-of-touch. “I teach there.”
“Hm,” the boy said. He led them around another disassembled X-wing to the back of the bay.
“You’re overhauling all X-wings in this way?” Luke asked.
“Yes, sir. We’ve also combined some similar systems on other starfighters.” The boy’s enthusiasm was charming. Luke remembered feeling that way about new technology himself once.
“How can the Republic afford this?”
The boy shrugged. Clearly, financing was not his business. “I don’t know, sir, but we’ve been doing it for more than a month now. Keeps us all busy, I’ll tell you. I haven’t had more than a day off since the changes began.”
He stopped in front of a maintenance platform. The X-wing on it was almost unrecognizable as a starfighter. Artoo moaned softly as though mourning for a dying friend.
Luke bit back his irritation. “How long will it take to reassemble the ship?”
“Sir?” The boy sounded startled.
“I need it this afternoon. Is that possible?”
“They just started on the computer system, sir. We can’t have it to you for the next day, maybe more.”
“I don’t want the changes made,” Luke said. “How long to reassemble it as it was?”
“I’m afraid we can’t, sir. General Antilles’s orders. He says the old X-wings aren’t stable enough for space use.”
“Mine’s fine,” Luke said. “I’d like it shortly.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Forgive me,” Luke said, feeling the inevitable wave of frustration he felt whenever he had to pull rank. “I’m going to be leaving on diplomatic business for my sister, Leia Organa Solo, the Chief of State. I would like to use my X-wing. I need it this afternoon.”
The boy peered into the workings of the ship. “I’m really sorry, sir, but they’ve already taken out the memory and the astromech hookups. The socket is still there, but we have nothing to hook it to. If they’re running true to form, the pieces have been recycled already.”
“I have the memory chips. My R2 unit picked them up earlier.”
The boy wrung his hands together. “Sir, if you’d look at the interior …”
That had been precisely what Luke hadn’t wanted to do. He was afraid he’d see an old friend gutted and nearly destroyed. He climbed onto the edge of the bay and peered in. The entire astromech area had been pulled and disassembled. Even though Luke hadn’t worked extensively on an X-wing since the Battle of Endor, he recognized a mess when he saw one. The X-wing was already half-converted.
He patted the ship’s sides, and Artoo moaned again. “Put her back the way you found her,” Luke said to the boy.
“But, sir—”
“I’ll deal with General Antilles. You just fix my X-wing.”
“Sir, we can’t have it for you when you need it.”
Luke nodded. “I realize that. Get me an older X-wing, one you haven’t upgraded, and I’ll put the memory chips in that. It’ll have to do for this mission.”
The boy looked chagrined. “I’m sorry, sir. We disassemble the X-wings when they arrive. It’s quick and easy. We don’t have any that you can use.”
“Surely there are some on Coruscant.…” Luke’s voice trailed off at the boy’s expression. Nothing in the New Republic ever ran smoothly. When something finally did, it turned out to be a problem.
“I can give you a substitute X-wing,” the boy said, “but it will be one of the new ones. Your chips won’t work, and neither will your astromech unit.”
“Will Artoo fit in the new X-wing?”
The boy shook his head. “It’s strictly a one-person vehicle.”
Luke sighed. He didn’t like his choices. He wanted to be in a starfi
ghter so that he had speed and the ability to enter into planetary defenses unnoticed. He could take a bigger ship—Leia would probably let him have the Alderaan—but that meant he had to take a support staff larger than Artoo. It also meant that he would be noticed as he traveled across the galaxy, and it meant that he would have to explain why Leia wasn’t with him. Han had already left with the Falcon. And all the other ships had the New Republic insignias.
“You’ll work with my astromech unit,” Luke said. “Artoo-Detoo knows that X-wing better than anyone. I want it fixed by the time I return.”
Artoo bleeped and moaned.
Luke put a hand on Artoo’s head. “I’m sorry, old friend. I don’t think this can wait. I trust you to make sure the X-wing is repaired.”
Artoo whined.
“And I’ll let Leia, Threepio, and Wedge know you’re here. Nothing will happen to you.” Then Luke looked at the boy. “Will it?”
“He’s an outmoded R2 unit, sir. They—”
“No,” Luke said firmly. “He’s a hero of the Rebellion. Neither Leia nor I would be alive without this little guy. You will treat him as you would treat me.”
“Sir—”
“What’s your name, son?”
The boy took a deep breath. “Cole Fardreamer.”
The name made Luke start. “You’re from Tatooine?”
The boy nodded. “I grew up hearing stories about you, sir. How wonderful you are, and how you were once just a moisture farmer. I came here because of you.”
Luke had no real sense of himself as an inspiration to anyone. He resisted the urge to step back. “And now you work on X-wings.”
“It’s a place to start.”
Luke nodded. “That it is.” He took a deep breath. “Take good care of my X-wing and my R2 unit, Cole. See that nothing happens to either of them. When I come back, I want them both intact, ready to use.”
Star Wars: The New Rebellion Page 9
