Star Wars - Black Fleet Crisis - Shield Of Lies

by Michael P. Kube-Mcdowell

  with the forces available, and that General A'baht acted within his

  authority in doing so. The outcome wasn't what we wanted, but not for

  reasons we had any cause to anticipate."

  Praget snorted derisively at the last, but Fey'lya accepted her answer

  with a nod. "Thank you, Princess.

  Chairman Beruss?"

  The balance of the discussion was brief and inconsequential, and they

  voted with Leia still present. The vote was two to five against, with

  only Rattagagech joining Praget.

  "The petition fails," said Beruss. "That being the only business

  before the Council, this session is adjourned."

  Jaw set and an ugly look in his eyes, Praget headed directly for

  Fey'lya. Buoyed by relief, Leia headed for the corridor. Before she

  reached it, Behn-kihl-nahm joined her, and they walked away from the

  chambers together.

  "I thought it would be Fe y'lya," she said.

  "It will be," Behn-kihl-nahm said. "Krall Praget got there first."

  "Why?"

  "Turf violation," Behn-kihl-nahm said. "You didn't consult with Praget

  before acting. And the intelligence you depended on didn't come

  through him."

  "So why didn't Fey'lya support him? Did someone forget to bring the

  rope for the hanging?"

  "Because the moment is premature. Because he knew that the petition

  would not carry, even with his vote," said Behn-kihl-nahm. "The

  outcome was foreordained, long before you were called in."

  "How?"

  "By the outcome of the vote on who would chair the meeting. When

  Fey'lya saw that Praget would not get to run the session, he knew that

  this was not the day."

  "Would it violate the secrecy of the proceedings to tell me who raised

  that issue?"

  A hint of a smile tugged tellingly at the corner of Behn-kihl-nahm's

  mouth. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty."

  Leia's answering smile was broad and affectionate.

  "Whoever it was, Bennie, please thank him for me."

  "I'm sure he would not think that necessary. I'm certain he would say

  he was acting for the good of the Republic."

  "Thank him anyway," Leia said. "So what happens now?"

  "You have a little time. But not so much as you would like, or

  probably as much as is required," said the chairman. "When the air is

  saturated with fear, it needs only a seed around which it can begin to

  coalesce. The same is true of ambition. This is only the beginning of

  the challenges, Leia. And if nothing changes, the next time you may

  not survive."

  Viceroy Nil Spaar's newly expanded breedery on the top level of the

  palace quarters now had sixteen alcoves.

  All but one of them contained a birth-cask, supple and fertile, or a

  maturing nesting, bulging and fecund.

  The empty space had once been occupied by the mara-nas of Kei, who had

  been his first. Her birth-cask had brought forth two handsome nitakka

  and a strong marasi before succumbing to the gray death. He had left

  that alcove open to respect Kei's place as darna of his family, and to

  give her some comfort against her envy of his younger mates.

  By design and custom, the breedery was a quiet, private place. But Nil

  Spaar had chosen to have his visitor brought to him there.

  "So you are Tal Fraan," he said.

  "Yes, darama," the young proctor said, kneeling in submission.

  "Rise," Nil Spaar said. "I am told you are the architect of the rout

  of the vermin at Preza."

  "I am honored by the darama's notice," Tal Fraan said, his glance

  jumping past the viceroy to the alcoves beyond. "But the opportunity

  for success was created by the darama, with the aid of our

  shipbuilders, who have given us such splendid weapons."

  "Excessive modesty betrays calculation, andbegs for excessive

  attention," said Nil Spaar. "Remember that and be guided by it, if you

  hope to continue your speedy advance."

  "I wish only to serve the darama in reclaiming the All for the Pure--"

  Tal Fraan began.

  Nil Spaar raised a warning finger. "You were not so eager to refuse

  credit when the primate of Glory advanced you to your new rank. Do you

  think that I surround myself with talentless flatterers? I have far

  more use for cleverness. You are clever, aren't you, Proctor Tal

  Fraan?"

  "I try not to allow opportunities to escape me, Viceroy."

  Showing an approving nod at being addressed directly, Nil Spaar turned

  and began to walk slowly along the line of alcoves. Both blood-scent

  and breeding-scent were bracingly strong in the air. "And how came you

  to the device which served so well against the vermin?"

  "The directive sent by the vermin spoke of prisoners," said Tal Fraan,

  following a step or two behind.

  "That gave me cause to believe that their actions could be steered by

  seizing that concern."

  "You risked much in 'surrendering the advantage over the blockade force

  in the hope of drawing out their reserves," Nil Spaar said, stopping

  and running his fingers lightly over the surface of a nesting that was

  nearly at term. "This device, this matter of regard for the fate of

  prisoners--it would not have stopped Yevetha. If it had failed, your

  entire force could have been lost."

  "The vermin are not strong about death," Tal Fraan said. "I knew it

  would not fail."

  "Ah! Then you feel you have pierced their habits so well that you

  would commit ten thousand lives to the proof?"

  "The primate committed them, Viceroy."

  "An incautious answer, Tal Fraan," said the viceroy, turning. "Would

  you commit your life on your confidence?"

  The young proctor twitched, then shook his head to lift his crests.

  "Yes, Viceroy."

  "Good," Nil Spaar said. "I can have no respect for one who will not

  gamble his own blood."

  A breedery assistant had been discreetly keeping his distance

  throughout the meeting. Now Nil Spaar signaled to him, and he

  disappeared into the anteroom. He returned moments later, leading a

  nitakka prepared for the sacrifice.

  "Wait," Nil Spaar said to Tal Fraan, and walked to where the nitakka

  stood on the grate above the drain pit.

  The young male met Nil Spaar's eyes without fear.

  "I ask for your blood for my children," the viceroy said softly.

  "The darama honors me," said the nitakka, dropping to his knees. "I

  offer my blood as a gift."

  "I accept your gift," said Nil Spaar. His killing claws appeared and

  slashed air and flesh with silent precision.

  As the sacrifice collapsed to the grating, the viceroy turned away to

  rejoin his now pale visitor.

  "I have pierced your habits, Tal Fraan," he said.

  "They are familiar to me. You look at what I have, and you see

  yourself. No, I have warned you already--do not deny it. I respect

  cleverness, and courage, and most of all success. I will keep you

  here, close by, to serve me. If you understand the opportunity, you

  can expect to profit from it." Nil Spaar smiled. "And if you err, you

  can expect to serve my new children instead."

  "Yes," Lieutenant Davith Sconn said, and blew a pu
ff of smoke from his

  hoat-stick. The brisk breeze blowing across the north yard of the Jagg

  Island Detention Center carried the acrid scent away. "I've been to

  N'zoth."

  "I've read the deposition you gave to the Intelligence examiner a few

  months ago," Leia said. "His evaluation says that in his judgment, you

  were just trying to earn favors by making something up--that you knew

  we didn't have any way to confirm or refute what you said."

  "Then there's obviously a shortage of intelligence at Intelligence,"

  Sconn said, turning toward where she sat.

  His gaze flicked past her to The Sniffer and The Shooter.

  "You must be someone pretty important. I've never seen them let a

  weapon in here before. What if one of us dangerous war criminals got

  that firestick away from him and took you hostage?"

  Leia smiled sweetly. "I do think they'd enjoy it if someone tried.

  It's been more than a year since the last time a fool gave my

  bodyguards a chance to use deadly force."

  "There ain't no justice in this galaxy," Sconn said, and came to sit

  opposite her. "They get paid for the same thing I'm getting punished

  for. So who are you? You look a little like Princess Leia, only

  older."

  She ignored his gibe. "Lieutenant Sconn--" "Davith," he corrected. "I

  was forcibly retired from the Imperial Navy, you know."

  "I've also reviewed your trial record, Davith Sconn," Leia said

  evenly.

  "You were the executive officer of the Star Destroyer Forger when it

  suppressed a rebellion on Gra Ploven by creating steam clouds which

  boiled alive two hundred thousand Ploven in three coastal cities."

  "On the orders of Grand Moff Dureya," Sconn said. "For some reason,

  people are always leaving that part out. Don't you Rebels believe in

  discipline? I still can't figure out how you managed to defeat us."

  Despite herself, she let him goad her into a reply.

  "Perhaps it has something to do with having the freedom to refuse

  immoral orders."

  "Immoral? The little finbacks had refused to pay their defense

  assessments, making the Grand Moff rather cranky." Sconn drew hard on

  his hoat-stick and held the smoke for long seconds. "But, then, that

  was late in the day for the Empire, and Grand Moff Dureya was cranky

  rather a lot of the time."

  "Was it with Forger that you visited N'zoth?"

  "Oh, no. I was on Moff Weblin--second watch bridge commander of a

  Fleet tender," he said, hooking one leg over the other. "Why should I

  talk to you about N'zoth?"

  "Why did you talk to the NRI?"

  "Because it didn't matter," Sconn said, shrugging.

  "Because it was a novelty. Because Agent Ralls was such a clueless

  young tad that I thought I might have fun shocking him with tales of my

  travels with Papa Vader."

  He leaned forward in his chair. "You're different. You matter. For

  some reason, you really care about what I know. And you're not going

  to be any fun at all to shock. So I'm afraid you'll have to show me a

  little more consideration than Ralls was able to."

  "But you forget, Sconn--I already have the deposition," Leia said.

  "You don't have much left to sell."

  "Oh, but you don't know what I left out--" "Sconn, I ought to warn you

  that I'm already way over my quota of self-serving lies for the year,"

  Leia said, her gaze intent. "If you want consideration, you give me

  something first. I have some questions about N'zoth-about what you

  told Agent Ralls. Answer my questions honestly, to the best of your

  ability, without games, and then I'll tell you how much what you've

  said is worth to me."

  Sconn sat back in his chair. "I have no reason to trust you," he

  said.

  "Or, when it comes to that, to help you."

  It took all the self-control Leia had not to reach across the space

  separating them with her thoughts and slide in behind his smugness with

  the full power of the Force, looking for s ome fragile place to grab and

  twist until something snapped. Instead, she gathered the folds of her

  robe in her hands and stood.

  "Even in prison, Sconn, you always have choices," she said. "If that's

  yours, so be it."

  She turned and started to go, fully expecting that he would let her.

  "Wait," Sconn said quickly. "Look, can you find us someplace more

  private to talk? Somewhere away from here. We're in the middle of the

  yard, for gaol's sake. I can't be seen cooperating with the keepers.

  Especially not with you."

  "The war is over, you know."

  "Not in here," he said. "Never in here. Have them send me to

  isolation, as though I'm being punished for giving you a hard time.

  They can take me out from there without anyone knowing."

  "You want us to take you off Jagg Island?" Leia asked, her eyebrow

  cocked skeptically. "Tell me, do I look particularly gullible

  today?"

  "That's all I really want. That's all I was going to ask for,

  anyway.

  Just a few hours out."

  "So you can try that escape plan you've been working on, no doubt."

  "Much as I hate to say it, your blue-hats don't seem prone to losing

  track of us," Sconn said. "Stang, they can take me out in a stun-box,

  if you want. It doesn't matter."

  "Any particular place you had in mind to go?"

  "Since you're asking--" Sconn's head twitched skyward.

  "How about three hundred klicks straight up, with a view that goes the

  rest of the way?"

  "Stop--please."

  His wrists cross-bound against his chest, Davith Sconn stared out the

  cutter's viewport at the sunrise racing toward them.

  "In twenty-four years in the navy, the longest I was ever dirtside was

  forty days' forced leave on Trif one year," he said, blinking away

  tears that came freely but silently. "I never found a good enough

  reason not to go right back out. Now I've been tied down on that rock

  for twelve years, and I've gotten a lot closer to crazy than I ever

  wanted to on account of it. You wouldn't think you could, but I was

  starting to forget. I'd forgotten almost everything but the

  feeling--this feeling."

  Sconn turned back to Leia. "Sit me where I can look out," he said.

  "I'll answer whatever questions I can."

  With a broad sweep of her hand, Leia guided Admiral Ackbar to a chair

  in the President's briefing room.

  "This is the part I thought you should see," she said, and started the

  holoprojector.

  "Black Fifteen was used mostly for new construction and finish work,

  not as a repair depot. But it had a reputation for the tightest work

  in the whole sector. Any captain who had a choice put in there. We

  took Moff Weblin in there for a rebuild on a blown number four power

  cell.

  "That's not an overnight in any yard, so the captain told me to look

  into shore leave. The station morale officer laid out the rules

  enlisted restricted to the yard and the station, officers permitted but

  discouraged from going down to the planet.

  "I asked him what was up, since Black Fifteen had been there for three

  years at that p
oint, and it didn't usually take the troopers that long

  to bring the locals in line. He told me that one out of two Imperial

  personnel on the planet was a stormtrooper.

  "'There's been very little trouble for a few months now, but I don't

  trust them,' he said. 'They're crazy,' he told me. 'More blood than

  rain fell in the streets before we got here, and it will again when we

  leave."" Leia heard her own voice asking, "What did he mean by that?"

  "That's what I asked him. But it turned out he wasn't trying to show

  off his metaphors. He meant it just like he said it. More blood than

  rain."

  "There's that much fighting among the Yevetha?"

  "No, they hardly fight at all with each other--not what we'd call

  fighting, anyway. I got in with a security captain who fancied himself

  a xenobiologist, a fellow who'd been down on the surface a lot. He

  told me about dominance killing, blood sacrifice, and some weird ideas

  he had about blood and Yevethan reproduction."