The Black Fleet Crisis_ Tyrant's Test Part 30

Leia shook her head. "To tell the truth, after seeing that last transmission from N'zoth, I'm not sure they aren't right. My first impulse was to give Nil Spaar what he wants, to recall the fleet if only he'll send Han back to me alive. My next was to go ask Special Operations for the most horrible weapon they have, something I could send to N'zoth to kill every last one of them--preferably in lingering agony."

Mon Mothma's smile was full of affection and sympathy. "You would not be human if you were not feeling both of those things right now."

"But I can't let either of those feelings guide what I do," Leia said.

"And I don't know that I can keep them from doing so. I only watched it once, but I can't stop seeing it."

"Leia, dear, surely you haven't told yourself that being President means that you can't listen to what you feel, that all your decisions must be guided solely by what you think. Leaders.h.i.+p is more than calculation, or we would hand the whole messy business over to droids,"

Mon Mothma said. "Kings and presidents, emperors and potentates--the best of them are guided by honest pa.s.sions as much as by a n.o.ble ethic or cool, incisive reason."

"Pa.s.sion and power have always seemed to me to be a dangerous combination," said Leia.

"Without reason or ethics, they almost always are.

But reason needs a pa.s.sion for truth, and ethics a pa.s.sion for justice.

Without that, neither is really alive," said Mon Mothma. "What is it you're struggling with, Leia?"

"What to do," she Said simply. "What to do to-morrow--to fight or to concede. What to do about Koornacht while I'm still here."

"What do you want?"

"Han, home safe," she said unhesitatingly. "The Yevetha held to account. And I want to keep this job, because there's still work to do."

"And if you cannot have them all, which of those would you surrender last?"

The barbary birds had put in their appearance as predicted, and Leia's eyes tracked the darting flight of a black and yellow male.

"That's exactly where I have trouble seeing the way," she said. "Do I answer for principle? For myself and the children? For the good of the New Republic?"

"But you've been at this very crossroads before," Mon Mothma said.

"When the enemy was Emperor Palpatine, you were ready to risk all, and you sacrificed much, for principle and posterity. What mattered most to you was what you believed was right. So it was for all of us--both those who died for the Rebellion, and those of us who sent them to die."

"I have more to lose now," Leia realized. "And I am less willing to risk it than I was then."

"More proof that you are human, and still no reason for shame. The young think they are immortal," Mon Mothma said with an understanding smile.

"Those who do not survive that mistake teach a harsh lesson to the rest of us. And twenty years of war provided enough harsh lessons for all.

We cling more tightly to what we have--to life, and to love--knowing its impermanence."

Leia stood and walked to the transparency separating her from the darting barbary birds. "It is the same crossroads, isn't it? What will you risk for what you believe--and what is your belief worth if you will not risk anything in its defense?" She shook her head. "I have part of the. answer to your question, at least."

"And what part is that?"

"I know which of those three things I want that I'm willing to give up first," she said. "The moment we begin to think about staying in power before we think of anything else, we betray the Rebellion. That's the heart of what we were rebelling against."

"It was, at the end, the only idea Palpatine stood for," Mon Mothma agreed.

Leia turned and looked back at her mentor. "But I still don't know how to choose between the other two."

"I think you do," said Mon Mothma. "What you don't know is how to live with the choice. And there I can be of no help to you. That secret escaped you when the clarity left you."

"When did that happen?" Leia asked, returning to sit on the edge of the stool at Mon Mothma's feet. "I didn't see it go--did you? Never before in my life have I struggled with decisions, or with accepting their consequences.

It's been so strange, watching myself from the inside, wondering why this woman was speaking for me."

"Your clarity came from your certainty that our cause was just and our purpose worthy," Mon Mothma said. "But there is little certainty of that kind to be had in a place like the Senate, in a city like Imperial City.

Certainty is eaten away by the thousand and one compromises that are the currency of democracy. Causes fall victim to the building of consensus. Accountability becomes so diffused that it vanishes, and agreement becomes so rare that it startles."

"I would have said that I understood that--that none of that was a surprise."

"Understanding it and dealing with it every day are separate problems," Mon Mothma said. "You have always drawn your map with straight lines, Leia, and in that respect, you were ill prepared for the arcane cartog-raphy of the Senate." She smiled gently, fondly. "You are welcome to blame me for that-- privately or publicly."

Leia shook her head. "There's no need for such talk. You have nothing to apologize for." She stood and glanced over her shoulder toward the door. "I have to be going, I don't want to leave the children alone for too long."

Mon Mothma rose to her feet as well. "There is something your father told me a long time ago, when I was new to Coruscant and its ways were a mystery. It was valuable to me--perhaps you will find something in it as well. He said, do not expect to be applauded when you do the right thing, and do not expect to be forgiven when you err. But even your enemies will respect commitment-and a conscience at peace is worth more than a thousand tainted victories."

By the time the recitation was over, Leia's eyes had misted. "That sounds like Bail, all right."

Mon Mothma gathered the younger woman into a fond, comforting embrace that lasted fully half a minute.

"Draw a straight line, Leia," she whispered as they separated. "You will see where it leads."

It was still an hour before the Senate was to dissolve into the New Republic a.s.sembly to consider the pet.i.tion of recall against Leia, and the session itself promised to last many hours under a rule of unrestricted debate. But both the media and public levels of the Senate gallery were already filled, and the corridors outside were choked with the overflow.

Some of those crowding the public areas held a color-coded gallery pa.s.s for a later three-hour block.

Others had managed to w.a.n.gle only a site pa.s.s and a place in one of the overflow auditoriums. With demand exceeding supply, the going price for a gallery pa.s.s had already topped ten thousand credits--if you could find someone willing to sell.

And despite the efforts of Palace security to discourage it, there was a brisk and animated swap meet under way among those already holding pa.s.ses, driven by a series of contradictory rumors about when key events might take place--most especially when Leia would appear at the podium.

Session Three pa.s.ses, covering the period from seven to ten that evening, were presently commanding a three-thousand-credit premium over Session Two and a five- thousand-credit premium over Four and later.

Both the commotion and antic.i.p.ation were more muted in the private back corridors and chambers, but only by comparison to the public ones.

The recall was the signal event of the Third Electoral, and no one with a claim to a seat in the great chamber meant to miss it.

Crowds and unfamiliar faces were everywhere, and the normally tranquil Council caucus room was hosting a heated shouting match between half a dozen senators who couldn't wait for the session to begin.

In such an atmosphere, Leia's unheralded arrival in the Senate anteroom went unnoticed at first. And the first to spot Leia were among the last she wanted to see--Engh's image a.n.a.lysts.

She had never troubled to learn or remember their names-she called them the Ventriloquist and the COs tumer. The Ventriloquist, who called her President Solo, was forever trying to put words in Leia's mouth, then critiquing the words that had come Out of Leia's mouth.

The Costumer, who called her Princess Leia, treated Leia like a dress-up doll, endlessly worrying about whether her clothes sent the right image for a particular public appearance.

They came rus.h.i.+ng up to her together and greeted her with a rush of words.

"Princess! Where have you been? - - " "President Solo! I haven't seen your speech yet--" "--I have your clothing in the diplomatic lounge.

There's no immediate urgency, but I need to talk to you about your jewelry choices--" "--thank goodness you won't be the first to the podium. Let's find a room where we can go over what you expect to say--"

"--I've opted for a very plain look, not quite widow-in-mourning but moving in that direction, and anything too gaudy would just be jarring--"

"--I've scheduled you for interviews with Global, Prime, and ING right after the session--" "Stop," Leia said sharply. "Both of you--just stop."

Both stared at her with the same flavor of we're-just-trying-to-help surprise.

"Is there something wrong, President Solo--" "I didn't mean to be insensitive, Princess Leia--" "Not another word," she said, interrupting.

"Not one more. As of this moment, you're both fired."

With two quick movements, she collected their area pa.s.ses from their clothing. "Report back to the ministry and resume doing whatever it is you used to do--which I can only hope is something more useful than what you've done here."

By then, everyone within ten meters was aware of her presence, and a curious crowd had begun to gather around her. Ignoring them, Leia brushed past the Ventriloquist and continued on through the anteroom until she found Behn- Kihl-Nahm. The chairman was with Doman Beruss, huddled over what looked like a chalice of dark brew and a schedule of speakers at a table near the courtesy bar.

"Bennie," she said, turning her shoulder to Beruss and ignoring him completely. "Let's go upstairs. We need to talk."

There was a sudden murmur--a collective gasp, more truly--from the thousands packed into the Senate chamber when Behn-Kihl-Nahm and Leia entered together and ascended to the upper tier of the podium.

When the murmur subsided, all that could be heard were the faint voices of newsgrid commentators echoing through a dozen or more active coralinks scattered across the floor of the chamber.

"--was not expected to appear until much later, until called on to make her own presentation. Her unexpected-" "--ueling immediate speculation here of a surprise resignation--" "--was considered unlikely that she would choose to be present during what promises to be a long and intense debate--" But the Senate's protocol officers quickly hunted down the offending devices, and there was barely a rustle as Behn-Kihl-Nahm walked to the podium.

"Fellow senators," he said, then cleared his throat twice. "Fellow senators, there will be a change in the published schedule for today's session."

Innocuous as they were, his words caused an immediate stir in the audience. He ignored the stir and went on, leaning in toward the.

podium's audio scanner. "As provided for under the Senate rules of order, and in respect of the provisions of Article Five of the Common Charter, I yield the gavel to the President of the Senate, Leia Organa Solo, hereditary Princess of House Organa of Alderaan and elect senator of the restored Republic of Alderaan."

As Leia rose from the bench where she had been waiting, something unexpected happened--a slow-growing, defiant-sounding ovation. In scattered twos and threes, then pockets of ten and twenty, seated senators rose to their feet clapping and calling out the traditional affirmation of Ho, nuzzan. By the time Leia reached the podium, half of the left aisle and nearly all of the right had joined the impromptu demonstration.

There was less enthusiasm from the center aisle, where representatives from most of the human worlds were seated, but even there nearly half were on their feet, with stragglers still swelling that number.

Noisiest of all was the public gallery, the occupants of which were ignoring the warnings of the. protocol officers and the architects both and stamping in unison. Taken aback, Leia looked to Behn-Kihl-Nahm for a cue or an explanation, only to find him applauding her as well, with equal measures of determination and dignity.

Leia turned back to the chamber and raised her right hand, asking for silence. "Please," she said." Please. I m grateful for your support, so spontaneously and genuinely offered. I accept it as a deeply felt expression of your concern for Han--mirroring the concern that so many people from all over the New Republic 'have taken the trouble to share with our family. I am gratified to learn that his welfare matters to so many of you. We love him dearly, and it's unimaginably hard for us to see him suffering.

"But I did not come here today to speak of Han, or to presume on your sympathy," Leia said. "I have come here to make an announcement in a matter of great gravity. I'm glad that so many of you are here to hear it firsthand.

"At thirteen-thirty today, in the presence of the chairman of the Defense Council, the first administrator, the minister of state, the admiral of the fleet, and the director of the Intelligence Ministry, I invoked the emergency- powers provisions of Article Five with respect to the crisis in Farlax Sector. "

A startled gasp from thousands of throats tore the silence. "That is the formal language required by the Charter," Leia went on. "But it can be said more simply-we have declared war on the Duskhan League.

"I have taken this step for one reason, and one reason only--because it is the right thing to do.

"This is not a personal crusade or a political maneuver.

It is a campaign for justice--justice for the victims, and justice for the criminals.

"The crimes of the Yevetha are not as well known to you as they should be, nor as they will be. You have seen the faces of two of Nil Spaar's victims: Han and Plat Mallar. But what the Yevetha have done to these two--as much as it hurts those who love them--is among the least of their offenses.

"The Duskhan League is led by an absolute dictator whose b.l.o.o.d.y amorality is the equal of any enemy the Republics have known. They have exterminated, without the slightest provocation, the populations of more than a dozen peaceful worlds. They have murdered innocents by the tens of thousands, without the slightest justification.

"Humans, Morath, H'kig, Kubaz, Brigians--no one who stood in their way was spared. Not the women. Not even the children. Their bodies were incinerated.

Their homes were leveled. Their cities were bombed back to atoms.

"And the last memories of those children, those cities, are now held by the few who the Yevetha spared--spared so that the Yevetha could use their living bodies as s.h.i.+elds in battle.

"The possibility that the Yevetha may not be finished with their murderous expansion, the prospect that they might next fall on Wehttam or Galantos or another more familiar world, is unnecessary to our response.

"If these horrors do not demand our answer, then shame on us. If these tragedies do not enrage your conscience, then shame on you. If we cannot stand together against such a predator, the New Republic stands for nothing of value."

Leia paused to drink in the utter silence that reigned in the great chamber.

"In consultation with Admiral Ackbar and the Fleet Office, I have ordered additional forces to Koor-nacht to strengthen our position there.

I have charged General A'baht, the sector commander, with the task of eliminating the Yevethan threat and reclaiming the conquered worlds of Koornacht. He has the necessary command authority to do so, and he has my full confidence.

"We will take away the Yevetha's ability to make war on what they call the vermin. Not only because we, too, are vermin in their eyes, but because they have shown us an evil heart, and evil must be challenged, even though the cost may be great.

"Any government that objects to this decision is free to withdraw from this body. And this body is welcome to choose a new President--the day after Nil Spaar is defeated and the Yevetha disarmed."

Leia fully expected the silence to follow her away from the podium.

But she had not gone two steps before a tumultuous roar of approval washed over her from the floor below and the galleries above. Turning, she saw virtually the entire Senate on its feet, affirming her decision by acclaim.

The acclaim was not unanimous--dozens of dissenting senators had remained in their seats or headed for the exits in disgust. But they were a startlingly tiny minority of the whole. Leia stared, barely comprehending the miracle she had wrought. Her words had reached them, and moved them, and united them--for a moment, at least, a moment of principle over politics.

She would have been moved to joy, but for the fact that at the end of the straight line she had drawn, Leia saw Han's death.

Maltha Obex It was a cold day on Maltha Obex, even by the standards of a planet locked in the grip of a century-long ice age. A brutal storm half a continent wide was scouring the northern lat.i.tudes with driving winds and sheets of tiny, hard snowflakes as coa.r.s.e as sand. The storm had forced Team Alpha to abandon its excavation site on the ice field east of Ridge 80.

Team Alpha's cold shelters had been fighting their tie-downs' all night, as though eager to take flight and tumble headlong across the wastes. When team leader Bogo Tragett suited up to check the status of the excavation dome, he found the rip-proof tunnel connecting his shelter to the dome torn lengthwise and shredded to tiny y ellow flags whipping from the tension cables. Visibility fell to near whiteout with the gusts, hiding a bright blue work dome that was no more than five meters away from Tragett.

Inside the dome Tragett found an ice-cold heater, a ma.s.sive drift of crystalline white, and a continuing swirl of snow particles blowing in from under the dome's cartial floor. The heater had chewed through a three-ay fuel supply in something less than ten hours land then quit, surrendering.

Tragett did likewise. Crossing to the supply shelter through a still intact connecting tunnel, he hailed Penga Rift and asked for a pickup, then paged the rest of the team and told them to pack whatever personal and team gear they could backpack or carry. Then it was a matter of waiting for conditions to ease enough for the expedition's weather-rated shuttle to fight its way through to them.

That wait stretched to three hours, in the course of which Tragett's shelter broke loose from its tie-downs and was thrown against the upwind side of the excavation dome. Before the shelter itself had collapsed and torn free, it had caved in a third of the dome and turned the faces of two team members as white as the landscape.

But Dr. Joto Eckels never gave as much as a pa.s.sing thought to offering Team Alpha a respite aboard Penga Rift. He regretted the loss of equipment and the investment of time at N3, with no return on either--but there were many more sites, and far too little time.

Trusting that Tragett would see to the motivational needs of his team, Eckels had dispatched the shuttle to the relatively balmy coastal site S9, where the dawn temperature had been twenty-six degrees below freezing under quiet skies.