by Timothy Zahn
"You aren't serious," Leia said, gazing hard at him. "Stirring up action against the Empire at this point would be nothing short of a slaughter."
"I know that." He shook his head. "I don't like this any better than you do, Leia. In fact, I will admit to being ashamed of using the people of the Empire this way. But whether my name and memory are denounced by history is of no importance. My job is to hold the New Republic together, and I will do whatever is necessary to achieve that."
"Perhaps I have more faith in our people than you do," Leia said quietly.
"Perhaps you do," Gavrisom said with a nod. "I sincerely hope you are right."
For a moment they sat together in silence. "I presume you won't be releasing news of Pellaeon's offer," Leia said at last. "With your permission, though, I'd like to begin putting together a list of delegates for a full peace conference. If and when you decide to proceed with this."
Gavrisom hesitated, then nodded. "I admire your confidence, Councilor," he said. "I only wish I could share it. Yes, please assemble your list."
"Thank you."
She got up from her chair and retrieved her datapad. "I'll have the list ready for you by tomorrow." She turned to the stateroom door
"There is, of course, one other option open to you," Gavrisom called from behind her. "You are merely on leave of absence from the Presidency. Assuming the Senate confirmed the decision, you could resume that office right now."
"I know," Leia said. "But this isn't the time for that. Yours is the voice that has been speaking for Coruscant since the Caamas Document first came to light. It wouldn't be good for that voice to suddenly change."
"Perhaps," Gavrisom said. "But there are many in the New Republic who believe that Calibops are skilled at words and nothing more. Perhaps the time for words has ended, and the time for action has arrived."
Leia stretched out briefly to the Force. "The time for action may indeed have come," she agreed. "But that doesn't mean the time for words is ended. Both will always be needed."
Gavrisom whinnied softly. "Then I will continue with the words," he said. "And will entrust to you the actions. May the Force be with us both."
"May the Force be with us all," Leia said quietly. "Good night, President Gavrisom."
CHAPTER
33
She waited until an hour after the background sounds of the household had quieted down. Then, getting up from her bed, Shada left her room in the vast underground complex that was Jorj Car'das's home and slipped down the darkened hallway.
The library door was closed, and the Aing-Tii hand-waving trick Car'das had used to get inside obviously wasn't going to work for her. However, before saying good night he had showed her and Karrde the more conventional method of opening their room doors, and she was banking on the library being set up the same way. Searching around the stones lining the doorway with her fingers, she found the slightly cooler one and pressed her palm against it.
For perhaps twenty seconds nothing happened. Shada maintained her pressure on the stone, alert for signs of activity in the area and wondering again at this ridiculous procedure. Based on the life story he'd told them, she couldn't see the Jorj Car'das who had first arrived here on Exocron being an overly patient man, certainly not the type to install doors in his home that took half a minute to open. She could only assume his thinking at that time had been that intruders bent on theft or violence would be similarly impatient.
Now, of course, with his Aing-Tii tricks, none of it mattered. At least not to him.
Beneath her hand, the trigger stone gave a gentle bump. Shada held on; and a few seconds later the door finally slid ponderously open.
She'd expected the library to be as dark as the rest of the house, with only a handful of muted glow panels to show the way around. To her uneasy surprise, the room was lit much more brightly than that. Not as bright as it had been when Car'das showed it to them earlier, but brighter than an uninhabited room ought to be. She slipped inside, ducking to the left out of the doorway; and as she did so, she caught a glimpse of a moving shadow in the central circle near the computer desk.
Car'das? She bit back a curse. Karrde had already scheduled an early-morning departure for the Wild Karrde's rendezvous with the Aing-Tii ship. This was her one and only chance to get to the datacard she needed to find.
And then, drifting up from the computer desk, she heard a muffled but very familiar voice distinctive, somewhat prissy, and quite mechanical. Silently, she detached herself from the wall and made her way down one of the narrow aisles between the data cases and headed to the center.
To find that her ears had indeed not been playing tricks on her. "Hello, Mistress Shada," Threepio said brightly, straightening up from his stooping lean over the computer desk. "I thought you and the others had retired for the night."
"I thought you had done so, too," Shada said, glancing at the nearest data case as she stepped over to him. Each shelf completely packed with stacks of datacards; each stack of datacards standing eight to ten deep. An incredible collection of knowledge. "Or whatever it is droids do at night."
"Oh, I usually close down for a time," Threepio told her. "But during my talk earlier with Master Car'das he suggested I might wish to have a chat with his main computer. Not that the computer aboard the Wild Karrde isn't decent company, of course," he added hastily. "But I must admit I sometimes miss Artoo and others of my own kind."
"I understand," Shada assured him, a lump forming in her throat. "It can be very lonely to be somewhere where you're out of place."
"Really," Threepio said interestedly. "I suppose I've always assumed human beings were adaptable to most every place and circumstance."
"Being adaptable to something doesn't necessarily mean you like it," Shada pointed out. "In many ways I'm as much out of place aboard the Wild Karrde as you are."
The droid tilted his head. "I'm so sorry, Mistress Shada," he said, sounding pained. "I had no idea you felt that way. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Maybe help me return to where I belong." Shada gestured down at the computer desk. "Have you gotten to know the computer well enough to be able to do a search of Car'das's library?"
"Certainly," Threepio said, his voice suddenly wary. "But this is Master Car'das's equipment. I'm not sure I should"
"It'll be all right," Shada soothed him. "I'm not going to steal anything. All I want is one small piece of information."
"I suppose that would be all right," Threepio said, still sounding uncertain. "We are his guests, after all, and guests often have the tacit run of the household"
He stopped as Shada held up a hand. "Can you do the search?" she asked again.
"Yes, Mistress Shada," he replied in a somewhat subdued voice. "What is it you wish to search for?"
Shada took a deep breath
"Emberlene," a quiet voice came from behind her. "The planet Emberlene."
"Oh, my!" Threepio gasped. Shada spun around, dropping into a slight crouch, her hand diving beneath her tunic to the grip of her blaster
"Forgive me," Car'das said, coming into view around the inner circle of data cases. "I didn't mean to startle you that way."
"I certainly hope not," Shada said, her grip still on her blaster, muscles and reflexes preparing for combat. If Car'das took exception to her being here... "I didn't hear you come in."
"I didn't mean for you to hear me," he said, smiling. "You're not planning to use that blaster, are you?"
So much for Mistryl subtlety. "No, of course not," she said, withdrawing her hand empty. "I was just"
She broke off, frowning, as the words he had spoken a moment earlier suddenly penetrated her conscious mind. "What did you say when you came in?"
"I told Threepio you wanted to do a search for the planet Emberlene," Car'das said, eyeing her steadily. "That is what you were going to look up, wasn't it, my young Mistryl shadow guard?"
Her first impulse was to deny it. But looking into that even gaze, she knew it woul
d be a waste of effort. "How long have you known?" she asked instead.
"Oh, not long at all," he said, waving a hand in an oddly self-deprecating gesture. "I suspected, of course, but I didn't actually know until you defeated those four swoopers outside Bombaasa's place."
Shada grimaced. "So Karrde was right," she said. "He thought giving Bombaasa his name would eventually get it back to you."
Car'das shook his head. "You misunderstand. Bombaasa doesn't work for me, nor I for him. In fact, aside from Entoo Nee and the other few in my household, no one actually works for me at all."
"Rightyou're retired," Shada growled. "I forgot."
"Or else you don't truly believe," Car'das countered. "Tell me, what is it you want for Emberlene?"
"What everyone else wants," she shot back. "At least what they want for big, important worlds like Caamas. I want justice for my people."
Car'das shook his head. "Your people don't want justice, Shada," he said, an infinite sadness in his voice. "They never did."
"What are you talking about?" Shada demanded, feeling her face warming. "How dare you judge us? How dare you judge anyone? Sitting out here all high and mighty, never deigning to get your own hands dirty, while everyone else fights and bleeds and dies"
She broke off, her rising fury at his attitude battling against her deeply ingrained fear of losing control. "You don't know what it's like on Emberlene," she bit out. "You've never seen the suffering and squalor. You have no business saying we've given up."
Car'das's eyebrows lifted. "I never said you'd given up," he corrected her gently. "What I said was that you didn't want justice."
"Then what do we want?" Shada snarled. "Charity? Pity?"
"No." Car'das shook his head. "Vengeance."
Shada felt her eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"
"Do you know why Emberlene died, Shada?" Car'das asked. "Not how it diednot the firestorming and massive air and space attack that finally crushed itbut why?"
She stared at him, a dark uneasiness beginning to swirl into the flame of her anger and frustration. There was something behind his eyes that she didn't like the look of at all. "Someone feared our growing power and prestige and decided to make an example of us," she said carefully. "Some think that person was Palpatine himself, which is why we've never worked for his Empire."
The eyebrows lifted again. "Never?"
Shada had to look away from that gaze. "We had millions of refugees to feed and clothe," she said, her voice sounding hollowly defensive in her ears. "Yes, sometimes we worked even for the Empire."
For a moment the room was filled with an awkward silence. "Principles are so often like that, aren't they?" Car'das said at last. "So very slippery. So hard to hold on to."
Shada looked back at him again, trying to come up with a properly scathing retort. But nothing came to mind. In Emberlene's casein the Mistryl's casehis quiet cynicism was all too true.
"At any rate, that particular principle was of no real value," Car'das continued. "As it happens, Palpatine had nothing to do with Emberlene's destruction."
He stepped past her and around to the data case behind Threepio. "I have the true history of your world right here," he said, waving at the top row of datacards. "I pulled all the information together once I knew you'd be coming here with Karrde. Would you like to see it?"
Automatically, Shada stepped toward him... hesitated. "What do you mean by true?" she asked. "What does anyone mean by true? We both know history is written by the winners."
"History is also written by the bystanders," Car'das said, his hand still up beside the datacards. "By the Caamasi, and the Alderaanians, and the Jedi. Peoples who had no part or stake in what happened. Would you accuse all of them of lying?"
Shada swallowed, fear and a horrible sense of inevitability twisting itself around her throat. "And what do all these disinterested parties say?" she asked.
Slowly, Car'das lowered his hand. "They say that three years before its destruction," he said gently, "the rulers of Emberlene set off on a rampage of conquest. That for the first two and a half of those years they destroyed and conquered and plundered every one of the dozen other worlds within their reach."
"No," Shada heard herself whisper. "No. That can't be true. We wouldn't... we couldn't have done something like that."
"The average citizens weren't told the true story, of course," Car'das said. "Though I imagine most could have read between the lines if they'd truly wanted to know what their leaders were doing. But they had triumph and spoils, pride and glory. Why bother with mere truth?"
Again, Shada had to look away from those eyes. It wasn't my fault, she wanted to protest. I wasn't there. I didn't do it.
But the words were hollow, and she knew it. No, she hadn't been one of those who had toasted Emberlene's conquests and looked eagerly ahead for more. But in dedicating her life to the Mistryl, she had in her own way helped to perpetuate the lie.
All because she had wanted to make a difference.
"You shouldn't take any of this personally, Shada," Car'das offered softly into her thoughts. "You didn't know; and the desire to make a difference is something held deeply within all of us."
Shada looked sharply at him. "Stay out of my mind!" she snapped. "My thoughts are none of your business."
He bowed his head briefly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to intrude. But when someone is shouting, it's usually difficult not to overhear."
"Well, try harder." Shada took a deep breath. "So what happened? How were we finally stopped?"
"Your victims and potential victims were too weak to fight back on their own," Car'das said. "So they pooled their resources and hired a mercenary army. The army was... perhaps overly thorough."
Overly thorough. Again, Shada searched for a blistering retort. Again, there was nothing she could say. "And all in the sector rejoiced," she murmured.
"Yes," Car'das said quietly. "But for the stopping of a dangerous war machine. Not for the suffering of the innocent."
"No, the innocent are never a very high priority, are they?" Shada said, hearing the bitterness in her voice. "Does your true history tell who the army was who destroyed us? Or who their sponsors were?"
His face seemed to settle subtly. "Why do you want to know?"
Shada shrugged, an uncomfortable hunching of suddenly tired shoulders. "My people have never known who did it."
"And if I give you that information, what will you do with it?" Car'das asked. "Turn the vengeance of the Mistryl against them after all these years? Create more suffering among still more innocents?"
The words were a sudden stab in her heart. "I don't know what they'll do with it," Shada said, a sudden misting in her eyes blurring her sight. "All I know is that it's the only thing I can take back that might let" She broke off, swiping viciously at her eyes.
"You don't want to go back to them, Shada," Car'das said. "They're living a lie, whether they know it or not. That's not for you."
"I have to," Shada said miserably. "Don't you understand? I have to work for something larger than myself. I've always needed that. I have to have something to hold on to and serve that I can believe in."
"What about the New Republic?" Car'das asked. "Or Karrde himself?"
"The New Republic doesn't want me," she bit out. "And Karrde..." She shook her head, an acid burning in her throat. "Karrde's a smuggler, Car'das, just like you were. What kind of purpose is that to believe in?"
"Oh, I don't know," Car'das said thoughtfully. "Karrde has altered the organization considerably since my days with it."
"It's still the fringe," Shada said. "It's still illegal and underhanded. I want something honorable, something noble. Is that so much to ask for?"
"No, of course not," Car'das said. "Still, Karrde's much more an information broker now than he is a smuggler. Isn't that at least a little better?"
"No," Shada said. "In fact, it's worse. Information brokering is nothing more than selling people's private prop
erty to those who don't deserve to have it."
"Interesting point of view," Car'das murmured, his gaze shifting to Shada's right. "Have you ever considered it that way?"
"I haven't up till now," Karrde's voice said.
Shada spun around, shaking the last lingering tears from her eyes. Off to her right, dressed in a robe and ship slippers, Karrde was standing just outside the inner circle, regarding her with an odd expression on his face. "Perhaps I need to reassess my thinking," he added.
"What are you doing here?" Shada demanded.
"Car'das called me," Karrde said. He looked at Car'das, his forehead wrinkling. "At least, I think he called me."
"Oh, yes, definitely," Car'das assured him. "I thought you should be in on this part of the conversation." He bowed his head to Shada. "Forgive me again, Shada, if I startled you."
Shada fought back a grimace. "He's just full of surprises, isn't he?" she commented.
"He's always been that way," Karrde agreed, stepping over to her side. "All right, Car'das. Your two puppets are assembled and awaiting your commands. What do you want from us?"
Car'das's eyes widened in a look of innocence. "Me?" he protested. "I want nothing from you, my friends. On the contrary, I wish to present you with a gift."
Shada glanced at Karrde, found him throwing her the same suspicious look. "Really," Karrde said dryly. "And what kind of gift might that be?"
Car'das smiled. "You were never one to appreciate surprises, were you, Karrde?" he said. "Not too bad at dealing them out, mind you, but extremely poor at accepting them. But I think you'll like this one."
He turned to the data case behind him and selected two datacards from the top shelf. "This is the gift I offer," he said, turning back to face them, holding one of the datacards in each hand. "This"he held up his right hand"is the history of Emberlene I was just speaking to Shada about. Something she very much wants, or at least has thought in the past that she wanted. This"he held up his left hand"is a datacard I made up especially for you. One which I personally think will be far more beneficial for everyone in the long run."
"What's on it?" Karrde asked.
