Thrawn, and she still maintained a loose alliance, even though some of the
worst offenders--such as Moruth Doole on Kessel--refused to have anything to
do with the New Republic and the smuggler's alliance.
"What brings you back to Coruscant, Mara?" Han said. Lando returned
bearing another one of his fruity drinks for her and a new one for himself.
She looked at it, pointedly ignored it, and continued talking to Han.
"I'm bringing a message. You can pass it on to the appropriate people.
Your Imperial friend Admiral Daala has been sending out feelers, trying to
hire smugglers as spies and saboteurs. A few have taken the offer, but I
don't
expect many of them to trust Daala after what she did to the forces of
Kessel.
Even though Moruth Doole wasn't part of our alliance, he was still a
smuggler,
and smugglers tend to stick together--especially against Imperials."
"Yes," Han said, "we got the message that she had attacked one of the
supply ships and destroyed it before it could get to Dantooine."
Mara looked at him, and her gaze became hard again. "Haven't you heard
what happened to your colony on Dantooine? Daala's already been there, you
know."
"What?" Han said, and Lando echoed his surprise.
"A small group of New Republic engineers is setting up a communications
base there," Han said, "but we haven't contacted them in the last week or
two.
"
"Well, there's no need to," Mara said. "Dantooine has been leveled. Every
person in your colony and all of your New Repub lic engineers are dead, as
of
two days ago. Daala attacked with her three Star Destroyers and vanished
again
to wherever her hiding place is."
"And so you came here just to give us this information?" Han said, trying
to recover from his shock.
Mara took a long, slow drink of the cloying concoction that Lando seemed
to be enjoying so much. She shrugged. "I have an agreement with the New
Republic, and I keep my agreements."
As Han felt anger and shock starting to boil inside him at what Daala had
done, Lando changed the subject.
"So where are you off to now, Miss Jade?" he said. Leaning forward on the
table, he seemed to be trying to melt her with his big brown eyes. Han
rolled
his.
"You're welcome to stay here for a while," Lando said. "I'd be happy to
show you some of the sights of the city. There's some beautiful views on top
of the Grand Towers." Mara looked at him as if considering how much effort
it
was worth for her to answer his question.
"I'll be leaving immediately," she said. "I'm going to spend some time at
Skywalker's Jedi training center. It makes good business sense to learn how
to
use my Jedi abilities, if only for self-protection."
Han sat up in surprise. "You're going to learn from Luke? I thought you
still hated Luke! You've tried to kill him often enough."
Mara's eyes stared back as if ready to blaze through him; then she
softened and even smiled. "We've... reconciled our differences. You might
say
we negotiated a truce." She looked down at her drink but did not touch it.
"For now, at least," she added, and then smiled even more. She stood up to
leave. "Thanks for your time, Solo." She ignored Lando completely and walked
out of the lounge.
Lando watched Mara leave, admiring the slick satiny gray fabric of her
slacks and tight padded flightshirt. "She sure has gotten beautiful."
"Yeah, I hear that happens to most assassins once they retire," Han
answered.
Lando didn't seem to hear him. "How could I have missed her in Jabba the
Hutt's throne room? She was there, and I was there, but I didn't notice her
at
all."
"I was there too," Han said, "and I didn't see her. Of course, I was
frozen in a block of carbonite at the time."
"I think she likes me," Lando said. "Maybe I'll volunteer to take the
Han shook his head. "Lando, she wanted you to disappear. She didn't even
acknowledge your presence."
Lando shrugged. "Sometimes it just takes my charm a little longer to
work." He flashed one of his best lady-killer smiles. "But when it does...."
"Oh, brother," Han said. He finished his drink and left Lando sitting
there, daydreaming as his own drink sat unnoticed beside him.
The next night Leia had just sat down to cherish a relaxing meal with her
husband and her children when the summons from Mon Mothma arrived.
As usual, she had been wrapped up in governmental proceedings all day.
After the disaster on Vortex, she had been allowed no respite, and the
pressure had increased as Mon Mothma withdrew further from her
responsibilities, begging off the unimportant receptions and meetings and
sending Leia as her proxy.
Living on the peaceful world of Alderaan as the daughter of the powerful
Senator Bail Organa, Leia had grown up surrounded by politics. She was used
to
the constant demands, the communiqu@es arriving at all hours, the sudden
emergencies, the whispered negotiations, and the forced smiles. She had
chosen
to follow in Senator Organa's footsteps, knowing full well the demands that
would be made of her.
But she treasured the scant quiet times she managed to steal with Han and
the twins. It seemed ages since she had been able to visit baby Anakin,
though
Han himself had accompanied Winter twice in the last two months.
Tonight Leia had come home late, flustered and harried, but Han was there
waiting with Jacen and Jaina. They had held dinner for her, which Threepio
had
prepared as a test of his new and dubious gourmet programming at the food
synthesizers.
They sat down in the dining area, where illumination strips bathed the
room in soft pink and peach colors. Han played the relaxing music of one of
her favorite Alderaani composers, and they sat down to eat off fine Imperial
china taken from the late Emperor's private stock.
It was not intended to be a romantic dinner with two-and-a-half-year-old
twins banging their silverware and demanding constant attention--but Leia
didn't mind. Han had done his best to commemorate dinner as a family.
Leia smiled as Threepio delivered their meal, a very passable-looking
grazer roulade accompanied by skewers of spiced tubers and sweet
marble-berry
fritters. "I believe you will be quite impressed, Mistress Leia," the droid
said, gently bowing and setting smaller plates in front of Jacen and Jaina.
"Yuck," Jacen said.
Jaina looked at her brother for confirmation, then said, "I don't like
this."
Threepio straightened in indignation. "Children, you have not even tasted
the food. I insist that you sample your dinners."
Leia and Han looked at each other and smiled. Jacen and Jaina both had
bright eyes and well-defined features below thick dark-brown hair--just like
their parents. The twins were extremely
precocious, speaking in short but
complete sentences and amazing their parents with the concepts they had
already managed to grasp and communicate.
Jacen and Jaina seemed to share a kind of psychic link, speaking in half
sentences to each other or somehow communicating in complete silence. This
didn't surprise Leia--as Luke had told her, the Force was strong in their
family.
Han claimed that the two kids knew how to use their powers more than they
admitted. He had found cabinet doors mysteriously unlocked after he had
fastened them securely, and sometimes shiny baubles left on high shelves
were
suddenly found underfoot as if they had been played with. The food
synthesizers, far out of reach, had once been reprogrammed to add a double
portion of sweetening to all recipes, even the soup.
Perplexed with the mysterious occurrences, Threepio had dug through
diverse and obscure data records, insisting that the best explanation could
be
found in an ancient superstition of poltergeists--but Leia suspected it had
more to do with small Jedi children.
She took a bite of her thinly sliced, herb-crusted grazer. It smelled
wonderfully nutty as the aroma curled up to her nose. It was tender and
perfectly seasoned to counteract the pungent unpleasant aftertaste often
found
in imported grazer filet. She considered complimenting Threepio, but decided
that it would probably make the protocol droid alt too pleased with himself.
"Look what Jaina's doing!" Jacen said.
Leia stared in astonishment as the little girl balanced her delicate
skewer of spiced tubers impossibly on its tip and used the Force to twirl it
around like a top.
"Mistress Jaina, please stop playing with your food," Threepio said.
Leia and Han met each other's gaze in amazement. She was glad that Luke
had formed his Jedi academy, so these children would learn to understand the
powerful and beautiful gift they had been given.
The door chime sounded like a tubular bell through their living quarters.
The noise startled Jaina, and her delicately balanced skewer toppled over--
which made her begin to cry.
Han sighed, and Leia got up with a scowl. "I didn't think we could sit
through an entire meal uninterrupted."
She opened the door, and the ornate plasteel plate hummed aside to reveal
a hovering messenger droid that bobbed up and down in the corridor, blinking
its lights in a swirl.
"Minister Leia Organa Solo, Chief of State Mon Mothma requests your
presence immediately in her private quarters for an important consultation.
Please follow me."
Back at the table Han rolled his eyes and glowered at no one in
particular as Leia was taken from him again. Jaina continued crying, and now
Jacen added his own squalls to the racket. Threepio tried to calm the two
children down, completely without effect.
Leia looked imploringly at Han, but he gave a short wave of dismissal.
"Go on, Mon Mothma needs you."
She bit her lower lip, sensing the bitterness he tried to cover. "I'll
cut it short," she said. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Han nodded and turned to his eating as if he didn't believe her. Leia
felt her stomach knot as she hurried after the hovering droid through the
arched, well-lit corridors. She felt a simmering annoyance and stubborn
resistance build within her, and she walked with purposeful steps.
She agreed to too many things. She bowed her head and trotted anywhere
Mon Mothma asked her to go. Well, Leia had her own life, and she had to
spend
more time with her family. Her career was important too--crucial, in
fact--and
she vowed to do both. But she had to reestablish some priorities and ground
rules.
As she followed the messenger droid into a turbolift that took her to
secluded portions of the old Imperial Palace, Leia was actually glad that
Mon
Mothma had summoned her. She had a few things to say to the Chief of State,
and the two of them would have to work out some sort of compromise.
But when the droid transmitted the special unlocking code that caused Mon
Mothma's armored door to grind aside, Leia felt a cold fingernail twist in
her
chest. Mon Mothma's quarters were too dark, lit only by soft green ish
glowing
lamps designed to be soothing, restful... healing. She breathed the sweet
tang
of odd medicines, and the clinging aftertaste of sickness caught in her
throat.
Leia stepped forward into the chambers and saw that they had been filled
with bright nova lilies and nebula orchids that showered heady perfumes into
the air, masking the unpleasant medicinal smell.
"Mon Mothma?" she said. Her voice sounded small in the enclosed space.
Motion off to her right made her turn her head to see a bullet-headed
Too-Onebee medical droid. Mon Mothma looked gaunt and skeletal as she lay on
a
broad bed surrounded by diagnostic equipment. Another smaller droid
monitored
the readouts. Everything hung in silence except for the faint hum of
machinery.
Leia also saw--feeling foolish for noticing such a small thing--that Mon
Mothma kept an array of makeup jars and synthetic skin-coloring agents on
her
dressing table in a desperate attempt to make herself look presentable in
public.
"Ah, Leia," Mon Mothma said. Her voice sounded pathetically weak, a
rustle of dry leaves. "Thank you for coming. I can't keep my secret any
longer. I must tell you everything."
Leia swallowed. All her indignant arguments evaporated like mist under a
red giant sun. She sat down in the small padded chair next to Mon Mothma and
listened.
Han had not had time to put the twins to bed before Leia returned. He had
felt angry and distracted during the rest of dinner, listless at having her
gone again. He had played with the twins, seeking solace in their company.
Threepio was just finishing the kids' evening ripple bath when Leia came
quietly through the doors. Han had been sitting in their main living area,
looking at the sentimental "Remembrances of Alderaan" framed images he had
given her as a gift. Displayed prominently on a small pedestal sat the
ridiculous Corellian fast-food mascot statue Leia had bought for him,
thinking
it a gaudy but important piece of sculpture from Han's homeworld.
When Leia entered, he sat up quickly, brushing his hair with his fingers.
But she turned her back to him and worked the door controls, saying nothing.
Leia seemed smaller and drawn into herf. She moved with extreme slowness and
caution, as if everything might break at any sudden motion.
Han said, "I didn't expect you back until late. Did Mon Mothma let you
off the hook?"
When she turned to him, he saw that her eyes shimmered with bright flecks
of light from restrained tears. The skin around her eyes looked puffy, and
her
mouth was drawn.
"What is it?" Han said. "What does Mon Mothma want you to do this time?
; If it's too much, I'll go tell her off myself. You should--was
"She's dying," Leia said.
Han stopped short, feeling his arguments pop like fragile soap bubbles.
His mind whirled. Before he could ask again, Leia began to spill her story.
"She has some sort of mysterious wasting disease. The medic droids can't
pinpoint it. They've never seen anything like it, and it's pulling her down
fast. It's almost as if something is taking her apart genetically from the
inside.
"Remember the four days when she supposedly went to a secret conference
on Cloud City? She didn't go anywhere. There was no conference. She spent
the
time in a bacta tank in a last-ditch effort to be healed--but even though
the
bacta tank completely purged her system, it could do nothing to help. Her
body
is falling apart. At the rate the disease is taking over, she could be...
she
could be dead in less than a month."
Han swallowed, thinking of the strong woman who had founded the New
Republic, led the political side of the Rebel Alliance. "So that's why she's
been delegating so many of her responsibilities," Han said. "Why you've had
to
take over more and more."
"Yes, she's trying to keep up appearances in public--but you should see
her, Han! She looks like she can barely stand. She can't keep up the charade
much longer."
"So..." Han began, not knowing what else to suggest or what he could say.
"What does this mean? What do you have to do?"
Leia bit her lip and seemed to dredge up strength inside herself. She
came forward and hugged him. He held her close.
"With Mon Mothma weakening," she said, "and Admiral Ackbar in exile, the
moderate side of the Council will be gone. I can't let the New Republic turn
into an aggressor government. We have already suffered too much. Now is the
time for us to strengthen our ties, to make the New Republic firm through
political alliances, with planetary systems joining with us--not to go
blasting leftover Imperial strongholds in this sector of the galaxy."
"Let me guess who wants to do that," Han said, thinking of a number of
the old generals who had reveled in their days of glory during the major
battles of the Rebellion.
"I have to bring Ackbar back," she said, looking up to meet Han's eyes.
Her face was pale and as beautiful as he had ever seen it. He remembered her