Science and Technology Council, was in most respects the antithesis of
the boisterous Bothan. "Do you know anything about his reasons?"
"As you would expect," Behn-kihl-nahm said. "The Elomin love order.
After the events of the last few weeks, he views you as a font of
social and political chaos rather than as a force for stability and
order."
"I suppose I can hardly blame him for that," Leia said. "Is anyone
teetering?"
"Chairman Praget has expressed some ambivalence to me," said
Behn-kihl-nahm, naming the head of the Security and Intelligence
body.
"Of course, this is only the present. Much depends on what you do
next. There is very little enthusiasm for war. Too aggressive a
course could easily swing two, perhaps even three other members of the
Council to support a petition of no confidence.
And then there would be no protecting you from a vote by the Senate
common."
"How much enthusiasm is there for justice?"
Behn-kihl-nahm shrugged. "Indifferent. The deaths of strangers,
conveniently out of sight in Koornacht Cluster, do not weigh heavily
against the prospect of the deaths of patriotic Republic pilots and
fighting on peaceful Republic worlds. There are some who find a cause
in these events, but more, perhaps, who see only a political crisis."
"Which reminds me," Leia said. "What became of Senator Tuomi's
challenge to my credentials?"
"Over. Forgotten. Chairman Beruss squashed it under a procedural
mountain. And I was able to limit the parade to the podium to ten
speakers."
"How many more would there have been if you hadn't shown up at the end
of the line brandishing an ax?"
Behn-kihl-nahm waved away the question. "It's simply noise to be
ignored. The more important question concerns the future. What do you
plan to do about the Yevetha?"
"What are we strong enough to do?" Leia asked.
"What options are there that don't lead to handing the presidency to
Fey'lya or Praget or Cion Marook?"
"Perhaps you might consider the question of what should be done, and
then we can work together on surviving it."
"What should be done--" Leia shook her head.
"What we should do is drive the Yevetha back to N'zoth, then drop a
planetary interdiction field over them, with the timer set for a
thousand years. And that would probably be too light a sentence by
half."
"You are kinder than I," said Behn-kihl-nahm. "The only justice I can
imagine would be for them to suffer the sentence they imposed on their
victims. Of course, that's impossible--for us to do such a thing would
violate every principle in the Declaration." He plunked a bitter candy
from the bowl on the side table. "But I could stand by and watch while
someone else did it."
"You're stronger than I," Leia said. "I think I would have to look
away."
Behn-kiln-nahm made the candy disappear with a snap of his jaws. "But
while we are waiting for this avenger to appear--" "Maybe I should meet
with the Defense Council and get a sense of how far we're willing to
go."
"I would rather see you come to the Council on a quest than with a
question."
"If I come before them and insist that we have to use the Fifth Fleet
to spank the Yevetha, every one of them will remember what Tig Peramis
said about why we built that fleet, and what Nil Spaar said about my
heritage. If we're going to do anything that risks the lives of those
who wear New Republic uniforms, the initiative has to come from the
Defense Council."
Behn-kihl-nahm shook his head. "There is no way it can come from
anyone but you."
"Then it isn't going to happen," Leia said flatly.
"Nil Spaar tied my hands. Senators Hodidiji and Peramis gave him the
it."
"This decision does not have to be about Leia Or-gana Solo."
"How can it be about anything else?"
"It could be about Plat Mallar," said the chairman.
"He could become the symbol of your cause."
Leia was shaking her head even before Behn-kihl-nahm finished
speaking.
"I will not use him," she said. "I won't exploit his tragedy. If the
execution of a million or more sentient beings, the destruction of a
dozen planetary communities, isn't enough--if the members of the
Council need a living victim paraded in front of them to move them to
act--then shame on them. And shame on US."
Making as to leave, Behn-kihl-nahm stood. "Shame is a scarce commodity
in politics," he said, brushing down his clothes. "And there are more
politicians than statesmen on Corascant now."
"I don't want to believe that."
"Nevertheless, it is so. Think this through carefully, Princess. You
will get only one chance to lead them," the chairman said. "If you
forfeit it, you will have no choice but to follow where they lead. And
I cannot promise you that they will choose an agreeable destination."
The hypercomm link showed nothing but static until General A'baht
entered the decryption code Admiral Hiram Drayson had obliged him to
memorize. Several seconds later--longer than the usual hypercomm
transmission lag--the static resolved into the face of the Alpha Blue
director.
"General A'baht," said Drayson with a nod.
"Thank you for making yourself available---" "Drayson," A'baht
growled.
"Perhaps you can explain what is going on back there."
"You may be hoping for too much," said Drayson.
"This is Coruscant, after all. Which peculiarity in particular
concerns you?"
"I requested additional support within the first hour of our arrival on
station," A'baht said. "All I have heard in reply is silence. 'Under
review by the Fleet Office Strategic Command,' I am told. But not one
member of the command staff has contacted me."
"Strategic Command is waiting for guidance from higher levels," Drayson
said. "Until those issues are resolved, I don't think you can expect
any reinforcements--unless you should happen to come under direct
attack."
"How long is it going to take to find some resolve?"
A'baht said. "I've been forced to detach ships from the Fifth for
Wehttam and Galantos. The other neighboring systems are still
unprotected. And every day we sit out here patrolling empty space, the
Yevetha dig in deeper on the worlds they took. We can't reward them
for their aggression. We must do something to punish them."
"I am not the one who needs con vincing."
"Then who is? Our presence is accomplishing nothing.
By this time, the Yevetha must know that the Fleet is an empty
threat."
"The Princess wants to do the right thing," said A'baht. "She will
need our help to see that the right thing gets done."
"What kind of help?"
"You need to find more graphic evidence of the Yevethan atrocities,"
Drayson said. "Without it, Princess Leia will not be strong enough to
overcome the r
esistance of the Senate."
A'baht drew his lips back in a silent snarl. "I don't know that we can
do more than we have. I've put prowlers right up to the border, even a
little beyond. Our sensing technology' simply can't give us anything
at that range. I'm having a difficult enough time getting good
tactical information, much less documenting the massacres."
"I trust you're persisting, even though it's difficult."
"If you're asking whether the ferrets and prowlers are still out, the
answer is yes," said A'baht. "But it's too late now for what you
ask.
From the looks of what you sent me, the Yevetha didn't leave much
evidence behind.
And why isn't what you have already enough for Leia?"
"It's not a matter of what Leia has or hasn't seen," said Drayson
ambiguously. "It's a matter of what she's free to show the Senate. If
she offers them independent intelligence, something that doesn't come
from the NRI or the Fleet, the meaning of what she shows them will get
lost in the questions about its origin."
"I have questions about its origin," A'baht said gruffly. "You have to
have had assets inside Koornacht to get those holos--assets which were
either in place undetected, or which could move fast enough to arrive
before the fires were out. I would very much like to know what manner
of ferret could accomplish that."
"And those are exactly the questions Leia cannot be asked," said
Drayson. "She needs intelligence with a good, clear, and perfectly
ordinary pedigree. General, I suggest you place a ferret in Zone
Nineteen."
"Zone Nineteen?" A'baht consulted his tactical map. "That's a third
of the way around the Cluster toward the Core---far outside the area
we've been patrolling."
"Then I suggest you widen your patrol area."
"Why?"
"It so happens that Zone Nineteen sits on the line-of-sight vector
connecting Wakiza and Doornik Three Nineteen, the Yevethan forward
base. I think you may have an opportunity to acquire some signal
intercepts with the hypercomm scanners."
"Yevethan signals?"
"Of course."
A'baht grunted expressionlessly. "And when might this opportunity
arise?"
"Oh--I suspect there's a great deal of traffic between those sites,"
Drayson said lightly. "I wouldn't be surprised if you picked up
something in the first few hours you were there."
"Which I'd be obliged to forward immediately to the Fleet Office."
"Of course."
"Will it get to Leia from there?"
"In fairly short order, I would think."
A'baht nodded. "It just might be that we've shown the Yevetha this
patrol deployment long enough. If I extend the perimeter patrols by
half, maybe it'll make 'em stop and wonder why."
"Thank you for considering my input, General," said Drayson, smiling
genially. "Oh, and one other thing--" "What is that?"
"Since there are probably still some days, even weeks, of work left to
do at this end, perhaps you might consider whether you can spare a
smaller vessel for each of the other inhabited systems."
"I'm convinced that nothing smaller than a frigate could withstand an
initial Yevethan attack, and I have no more ships of that class to
spare," said A'baht.
"You're right, of course," Drayson said. "A corvette or patrol escort
probably wouldn't discourage the Yevetha, and certainly wouldn't be
able to repel them. I only thought there might be some symbolic value
in their presence--" A'baht suddenly understood what Drayson was
saying. --Unless we should happen to come under direct attack, you
say. And so you would like me to bait the Yevetha with an easy
victory.
"The only thing worse than leaving those populations unprotected is
giving them an illusion of safety," A'baht said curtly. "And the only
thing worse than asking men to risk their lives on your word is sending
them into a fight you know they can't win. My pilots and crews are not
symbols, Admiral Drayson. And I won't betray them by reducing them to
that."
"I understand those feelings, General," Drayson said. "I share them.
But I invite you to consider whether your status there is any different
than that of an escort orbiting Dandalas or Kktkt. If the Yevetha
attack your formation, many issues would be simplified."
"Are you saying that we were sent here to draw the Yevetha into a
war?"
"I am saying that you may decide for yourself how much of your arm to
place in the rancor's mouth," Drayson said. "Zone Nineteen, General.
Whatever else you decide, please keep that rendezvous."
The on-site recruiting office at Fleet Headquarters was next to the
main gate, a long walk from the infirmary.
Mindful of the physical exam, Ackbar had been unable to persuade Plat
Mallar to wait until morning.
But the energy in Mallar's long strides on the way over had seemed to
vindicate Dr. Yintal's judgment that the Polneye survivor could be
released.
When they reached the small white dome with the Fleet insignia, Ackbar
lost a second argument, this one over whether he would accompany Mallar
inside.
"I have to go in there without anyone holding my hand," Mallar had
said. "It's important to me. I don't want any pity, or any special
favors from friends of old star pilots."
"As you wish," Ackbar had said, acceding to the stubborn will of the
young Grannan. He settled in a waiting area ordinarily occupied only
by civilians and let himself be amused by the surprised recruitment
staffers falling over themselves to salute him.
Mallar was gone for the better part of an hour, but the process should
have taken two. And when he returned, he looked worse than ill--his
eyes were as empty as a discarded chrysalis, all the life having left
them.
Ackbar rose quickly and hurried to him.
"What's wrong?" he demanded. "Never mind--there's a speeder at the
guard station. Come, I can have you back to the infirmary in a
twinkling."
"I was turned down," Mallar said, his expression stunned and
wondering.
"For pilot training?"
"For anything. For everything. He rejected me.
They won't let me volunteer for any duty."
"That's absurd," Ackbar said. "Stay here."
Leaving a wake of unanswered salutes behind him, Ackbar stormed through
the screening room and past the interview rooms to the office of the
recruiting supervisor.
"Admiral Ackbar?" the supervisor said, rising from his chair in
surprise as Ackbar entered unannounced.
"Sir," he added, and saluted smartly.
"Major, one of your recruiters just processed an applicant named Plat
Mallar," Ackbar snapped. "I want that person in this room now, to
answer some questions."
"Right away, Admiral." The supervisor bent over his comlink and barked
out an order. "I'm terribly sorry if there's been some mix-up,
Admiral--" The arrival of a tall human lieutenant interrupted the
apology, as Ackbar turned away and ignore
d the major completely.
"What's your name?" Ackbar demanded, noting the Corellian insignia in
the place above the right pocket reserved for an affiliation pin.
"Lieutenant Warris, sir."
"Would you care to explain to me your actions regarding Plat Mallar?"
he asked.
The recruiter looked momentarily taken aback.
"Sir, I don't understand. He was unqualified," Warris said.
"Unqualified?"
"Yes, sir," Warris said. "The guidelines clearly specify that an
applicant's primary education must be through a certified school or
program. Plat Mallar's program isn't even listed in the system."
"Of course it isn't, you dunderhead--did you happen to notice where
he's from?"
"Yes, sir. But that's another problem, sir. He's ineligible to join
the Fleet--he's not a citizen of the New Republic. In fact, it's worse
than just not being a citizen he's a citizen of Polneye, a planet
that's still officially listed as aligned with the Empire. I couldn't
possibly pass him through the interview, sir." The recruiter looked to