STAR WARS - THE NEW JEDI ORDER - Destiny's Way

by Walter Jon Williams

  "I had no idea you were a gardener, Admiral," Leia said.

  "Every ruler should have a garden," Pellaeon said. "It's always useful to draw lessons from nature."

  "True." Leia cupped a vast pink blossom and lifted it to her face, inhaled its scent.

  "From a garden one learns to cull the weak and unfit," Pellaeon continued, "and to encourage the strong and vigorous." He held up his thumb and forefinger. "An inferior bud soon feels the strength of my pinch!"

  Leia sighed and straightened, letting the blossom fall from her fingers. She supposed it was too much to hope that she could stay for long on Bastion without being reminded what the Empire was really about.

  Han gave Pellaeon's pinching hand an appraising look. "And you make your plants grow in rows," he said.

  "Each receives its proper allotment of space and sunlight, and no more," Pellaeon said. "That's fair, don't you think?"

  "But plants don't naturally grow in rows," Han pointed out. "This is only possible—" He gave a deliberate glance at the glass arboretum overhead. "—in a highly artificial environment."

  Bravo! Leia thought at her husband. 7 swear FU make a diplomat of you yet!

  Pellaeon gave a judicious smile. "You prefer the state of nature, then? I think you will find that in a state of nature, the weak are culled hi a far more merciless fashion than you find here."

  Leia took her husband's arm. "Let's say that I prefer a balance," she said. "There should be enough nature so that the plants can thrive by following their natures, if you see what I mean."

  "That notion of balance is derived from Jedi philosophy, if I'm not mistaken," Pellaeon said. "But such hybrid beauty as you see here"—he indicated the blossom Leia had just cupped in her hands—"is not a matter of balance, or nature, but a contest of wills. The will of the gardener, and the will of the plant he must coerce into surrendering her treasure."

  Leia dropped Han's arm and sighed again. "I see we're doomed to talk about politics.," she said.

  Pellaeon gave her one of his courtly bows. "I fear so, Princess."

  "The New Republic," Leia said, "would like to request that the Empire furnish us its maps of routes through the Deep Core."

  "Those," Pellaeon said, "are among our most closely held secrets."

  During the Rebellion, the Empire had held out for years in the galaxy's Deep Core. The Imperials' knowledge of the narrow, twisting paths among the closely packed star masses was unmatched; though the Rebels had finally cleared their enemies out of the Core, it had been grinding work, and probably a good many of the Empire's routes lay undiscovered.

  "There are no more Imperial bases in the Deep Core," Leia said, "so the information has no value to you. On the other hand, you're aware of how useful such bases would be to the New Republic now that Coruscant is gone. And," she added, seeing the skeptical look on Pellaeon's face, "you know that the longer we tie up the Yuuzhan Vong in mopping-up operations around the Deep Core, the less likely they are to look at Bastion as their next conquest."

  "I have no fear for the safety of my capital," Pellaeon said.

  Then you haven't been paying attention, Leia thought. But she knew that Pellaeon didn't mean this in all truth; it was probably just one of those things that Supreme Commanders of totalitarian regimes were expected to say.

  "Once," Leia said, "I had no fear for the safety of Coruscant."

  Which wasn't exactly true, either.

  "Perhaps you would like some refreshment," Pellaeon said. He took Leia's arm and escorted her down the row of blossoms that seemed to get more extravagant and colorful the farther they traveled. Han followed, pretending interest in the flowers.

  "I hope you can offer me something in exchange for this information," he said. "The Moff Council won't want these secrets given up."

  Leia smiled. "Didn't you just say that you'd tell them what you wanted them to know?"

  "I will. But unfortunately," he added, "their busy little minds are capable of drawing their own conclusions, and it would be useful for them to know that something of equal value was given in exchange."

  Leia had anticipated this. Offer, counteroffer, outright payment, blackmail—all the arsenal of politics. "The New Republic would be pleased to offer in exchange everything we know about the Yuuzhan Vong. Weapons, tactics, communications, internal organization, the whole package."

  "Communications?" Pellaeon pounced on the word. "You've discovered that secret?"

  "We have," Leia said. Thank you, Danni Quee.

  "Obsolete Core routes in exchange for the greatest secret of the Yuuzhan Vong," Pellaeon mused. "I predict no trouble with the Moff Council."

  Leia was pleased to hear this, but if necessary she had been perfectly prepared to give the information to Pellaeon free of charge. As far as she was concerned, anything that weakened the Yuuzhan Vong relative to everyone else was a positive good.

  They came to the end of the row of plants, and Leia discovered a circular space surrounded by the trunks of Gamorrean coolsap trees, with their dense canopy providing an arbor overhead. Beneath the foliage a grand buffet had been laid out on a hollow, circular table, a long array of silver chafing dishes along with great bowls of salads, fruit, and a selection of desserts and pastry. One entire table was covered with a glittering selection of choice liquors. In the center of the circle was a crystal-topped table set for three, the plates arranged around a bouquet of the most exquisite blossoms the arboretum had to offer.

  "Please forgive the informality and help yourselves," Pellaeon said.

  Han eyed the banquet skeptically. "We're sharing this meal with which regiment?" he asked.

  Pellaeon smiled beneath his white mustache. "Our previous meetings really hadn't given me an idea of your tastes. So I ordered a little of everything."

  "Must be good to be on top of the food chain," Han commented.

  Leia thanked Pellaeon and thought, Now I know how you gained those extra ten kilos.

  Leia and Pellaeon talked through the meal, but of matters of no importance. Talking of matters of no importance was an important political skill. Later, over cups of nans-bud tea, Leia resumed.

  "After you've had the opportunity to review the information we've gathered on the Yuuzhan Vong," she began, "I hope the Empire will accept our offer of alliance against the enemy."

  Pellaeon raised his white eyebrows. "I expected you to raise the matter earlier," he said.

  "Dinner first," Leia said. "War later."

  Pellaeon laughed. "Very civilized."

  "The main forces of the Yuuzhan Vong are facing the New Republic now," Leia said. "You could cut their supply line from the Rim with very little effort."

  Pellaeon gave her a dubious look. "I can present your offer to the Moff Council," he said, "but I know what they'd say."

  "Yes?"

  "They would ask how the Empire would benefit from this action."

  "Surely the Empire would benefit by helping to rid the galaxy of a menace like the Yuuzhan Vong."

  Pellaeon considered this, then shook his head. "I would rather not go to the Moff Council with this offer," he said. "They won't approve it."

  Jag Eel's voice whispered in Leia's memory. It would really make more sense in the short term for the Empire to join the Vong ... Leia found a muscle behind one knee trembling, and she stilled it. "Why not?" she asked.

  "Because, quite frankly, the New Republic is losing its war," Pellaeon said. "Your forces are undisciplined, your government is in disarray, your capital is lost, and your Chief of State was tortured to death in his own office. Why should the Empire join such a debacle?"

  Leia silently cursed Vana Dorja and the report Pellaeon had doubtless heard before this meeting.

  But maybe that wasn't fair, she thought; Pellaeon didn't need Vana Dorja for this.

  "If we join with you now, you'll only drag us down with you," Pellaeon continued. He hesitated. "That's what the Moff Council would say."

  That's what you say, Leia translated.
r />   "Now, if you start to win some real victories," Pellaeon went on, "then the Moffs' position would be altered. But you'd have to convince us you're not dragging us into a disaster." His dark eyes looked quite solemnly into hers. "And that, Princess, is the truth."

  "Well," Leia said, "that's that."

  Something shifted in Pellaeon's face. "On the other hand," he said, "if you could offer something to the Moff Council. Something concrete ..."

  "Such as?" Leia queried.

  "The Moff Council is impressed by real things," Pellaeon said. "Solid things. For instance, if the Empire could retain any worlds we took from the Yuuzhan Vong, it would impress the Moffs considerably. Not" he added, at the protest in Leia's face, "any worlds that still have your population on them. Only those the Yuuzhan Vong have remade for themselves." He nodded confidingly. "I think the Moff Council is most impressed by worlds, Princess."

  The Empire could double its size, taking its choice of worlds, and it would cost the Yuuzhan Vong nothing . . . Again Jag's voice whispered in Leia's mind.

  Leia managed to seize control of her whirling thoughts. "I— I have no authority to make such a concession," she said. "And in any case, there are millions of refugees who want their worlds back."

  "They would be welcome in the Empire," Pellaeon said. "I think we could support them better than could your own overstrained resources."

  Then you can prune and cull to your heart's content. Leia saw the cynical remark in Han's brown eyes, but fortunately Han didn't speak it out loud.

  "As I said," Leia managed, "I have no authority to make such a concession."

  "But you will take my words back to your government?"

  Leia nodded. "Certainly."

  If we have a, government when I get back, she thought.

  It wasn't until long after Shimrra had dismissed them all that Norn Anor thought to question what had happened, and then it was Yoog Skell who spoke the words that made him stop and think. The delegation had walked in procession to the Damutek of the Intendants and broken up, and Nom Anor's path lay alongside that of his master, walking along the coiled corridors of the damutek, breathing in the healthy organic stench of the building as young intendants dodged respectfully to the side.

  "So," Yoog Skell said, "you have seen the power of the Supreme Overlord."

  "Indeed, High Prefect."

  "You felt his mind on yours, I know, when he interrogated you."

  Nom Anor recoiled inwardly at the memory of the mental pressure that had squeezed him dry. "Yes," he said.

  "Never think to lie to the Supreme One. He will know."

  "Never," Nom Anor agreed. "I'll never think it."

  Yoog Skell gave him a sidelong glance. "Did you feel the Supreme One again when he incited us against Ch'Gang Hool?"

  Nom Anor almost stumbled as he walked alongside his leader. "High Prefect? "he said.

  "Oh yes," Yoog Skell said, "unless you think it's normal for high-caste Yuuzhan Vong to scream and rant and drool in that way."

  The breath went out of Nom Anor in a long, awed hiss. The Supreme Overlord had created that? Turned his closest subordinates into a mob of murderous fiends rejoicing at the fall of one of their number?

  "Oh yes," Yoog Skell said, "the gods have given him that power, among others." His voice turned reflective. "Not that Ch'Gang Hool is such a loss. His ambitions always exceeded his talents. I remember an Escalatier Ceremony that he performed for one of my most talented advisers, young Fal Tivvik. A fairly basic procedure, I recall, but—as our high priest would say—'the gods discovered a flaw' in the poor girl, and she joined the Shamed Ones. I have myself always wondered whether the flaw might instead have been in Ch'Gang Hool."

  Nom Anor gave his superior a sharp glance—the high prefect's words flirted with heresy. But Yoog Skell was in a reflective mood, and he continued.

  "Perhaps you remember Fazak Tsun, another of Ch'Gang Hool's unfortunates," he said. He paused as he came before the door to his chamber, and turned to face Nom Anor. He dropped a heavy hand on his subordinate's shoulder.

  "You have made mistakes, Executor," he said, "and now you see what happens when too many mistakes come to the attention of the Supreme Overlord."

  "Yes, High Prefect." Nom Anor's mind ran so fast he could almost hear the wheels spinning. "How do you suggest I avoid Ch'Gang Hool's fate?"

  "Don't make any more mistakes," Yoog Skell said blandly. The door behind him quivered open, and he stepped through it.

  "And my particular advice, Executor," Yoog Skell added, "is that whatever you do, don't give the Supreme Overlord an itch, particularly one he can't scratch in public."

  The door shimmered shut behind him and left Nom Anor alone in the corridor. He was thinking hard.

  The stars streamed aft, and Han sat back in the pilot's seat and gave Leia a grim smile. "Well," he said. "That's that. Next stop, Mon Calamari."

  The day after their meeting in the arboretum, Leia and Han had returned Grand Admiral Pellaeon's hospitality by having him to dinner on board the Millennium Falcon. Pellaeon and Leia exchanged disks: he had given her the charts of the Deep Core hyper-space routes, and she gave him everything the New Republic knew about the Yuuzhan Vong. Then formal toasts had begun, with Leia toasting the Empire—it had been getting easier with repetition— then Pellaeon toasting the New Republic, and, very kindly, the success and survival of Jacen Solo.

  Then Pellaeon had presented Han with a new hyperspace comm antenna to replace the one shot off in the fight with the Yuuzhan Vong. If there were any more bulletins about Jacen or any other friends or family, Han and Leia would be able to receive them without Pellaeon acting as a relay.

  Han eased himself out of the pilot's seat. "I want to get that antenna installed at our next jump point," he said, "and get your message and a copy of that Deep Core map off to the capital. And I'm going to send a copy of the map to Wedge Antilles, too, just in case no one in the capital knows what to do with it."

  "Good idea." An idea struck Leia. "I wonder if Pellaeon's antenna has been tampered with. Maybe anything we send will be transmitted to Imperial Headquarters."

  "It won't matter," Han said. "The Empire already has the information they gave us."

  "True."

  "I'll replace the antenna again, with one of our own, when we get back to Mon Calamari."

  Leia followed Han to the galley. He looked at her. "So were those Core charts worth this trip?"

  "Yes. We can keep fighters in the Core for years, raiding the Yuuzhan Vong."

  "Even though the Empire isn't about to attack."

  "Not without preconditions, anyway."

  Han looked grim. "He had a lot of nerve asking for our planets," he said.

  "They're not our planets anymore, which I suppose was his point. But I think that was just a test. If I'd agreed to his idea, it would have told him how desperate we arc."

  Han's tone turned thoughtful. "Would that have brought him into the war, or scared him off?"

  "Good question." Leia considered the matter. "I think I've come to the conclusion that we don't want the Empire in this war."

  Han was startled. "You sure? All those Star Destroyers? Those troops?"

  "That's right," Leia said. "Pellaeon said he'd join us if we started winning victories. But once we start winning, we don't need the Empire any longer. What Pellaeon really wants are concessions ahead of time, and then to be at the peace table when it's over. He wants a peace that serves the Empire's interests."

  Han began slicing up charbote root. "And here I was starting to think that Pellaeon was a good guy."

  Leia made an equivocal motion of her hand. "I'm not saying he isn't., at least by Imperial standards. But he's a head of state, and he has to look out for that state's benefit. He didn't persuade the Empire to end the war with the New Republic on the grounds that it was the moral thing to do, he did it by persuading the Moris that it was in the Empire's best interests. Right now the Remnant has barely recovered from the last war�
��why should Pellaeon get into another life-and-death struggle unless it's to his advantage?"

  "I guess," Han said.

  "Not too much charbote root, Han," Leia said.

  "I'm a Corellian. I like charbote root." But he stopped cutting, and instead gathered the root slices and dropped them into the saucepan. Then he turned to her.

  "Do you know," he said. "I'm not sure I need any food right now."

  "Really?" She frowned down at the stove. "Normally you're ravenous at this time of day."

  "What I just remembered," Han said, "is that we had hoped to be alone together on this voyage. And that now that Grand Admirals and Imperial spies are off the ship, we are alone."

  "Oh." She blinked at him. "Oh my." The look in his eyes made her skin flush with warmth.

  He took her in his arms. "I think we deserve a little time together," he said, "don't you?"

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  "Pray to the Pardoner Yun-Shuno," the Shamed One said. "Pray that her promises will soon be fulfilled. Pray that the Jeedai soon liberate us from those who oppress us with terror and violence."

  "So we pray!" the tiny group echoed. Some of them, even as they chanted the response, did not cease from scratching at the fungus that tormented them. Beneath the sound of the ceremony was the constant whisper of fingers against inflamed skin.

  "So we pray!" Nom Anor echoed the words with the others. Wearing an ooglith masquer that disguised him as a common worker, he had infiltrated the tiny heretical sect. This was his second meeting.

  Infiltration was one of his skills, and he had fooled more suspicious folk than these fools.

  But no more, he thought as he scratched idly at one leg. These people are doomed.

  There were fewer than a dozen in the little group, which met in the shadowy lower levels of a minor office of the intendants, a place normally empty at night. The group was led by a Shamed One, a former member of the intendant caste whose arm implant had gone spectacularly wrong, and still dripped a trail of slime wherever he went. Even workers should have had better taste than to listen to anything said by this pitiful creature.