The Force flows through us. It controls us. We control it. Life creates it. It is more powerful than any Death Star.
Hundreds of millions of people said yes, and sighed, and applauded, and went home or turned off their videos feeling just a little more empowered than they did before the lights went down and the Twentieth Century-Fox fanfare came up.
No small feat.
May the Force be with you, Mr. Lucas.
And with us all. Always.
Steven Barnes
Longview, Washington
www.lifewrite.com
January 13,2004
THE HIVE
by STEVEN BARNES
FOR NICKI, STEVEN AND SHARLEEN CHIYEKO
Happy birthday, kids!
1
G’Mai Duris, Regent of the planet Ord Cestus, formally folded the fingers of her primary and secondary hands. She was an X’Ting, of segmented, oval, dull gold body and gentle manner, one of the insectoids who had once ruled this planet. Before the coming of Cestus Cybernetics, X’Ting hives had thronged this world, but now the soulless industrial giant not only dominated the planet but also threatened the safety of the Republic itself.
Obi-Wan Kenobi watched as Duris prepared to address the hive council, the last humble remnant of X’Ting power. Like the offworlder capital of ChikatLik, some hundreds of meters above their heads, the council room was nestled in a natural lava bubble. The walls of the egg-shaped, fifteen-meter-high chamber had been glazed burnt sienna, but most of that original color was covered with handwoven tapestries. Three doorways, each guarded by two members of the X’Ting warrior clans, led out of the room—one to the surface, the others to deeper, less traveled places within the hive.
The twelve councilors seated at the curved stone table were a mix of relatively youthful X’Ting, their carapaces still brilliant, and elders showing gray and white splotches amid their bristling thoracic hair. Their vestigial wings fluttered in distress. From time to time their primary or secondary hands would smooth their ivory ceremonial robes. Every red or green faceted eye studied her carefully; every auditory antenna was tuned to her words.
Duris hunched her thorax and cleared her throat, perhaps gathering her thoughts. She was almost as tall as Obi-Wan, and her broad, segmented, pale gold shell and swollen egg sac gave her considerable gravitas.
At this moment, G’Mai Duris needed every bit of it.
“My peers and elders,” she said. “My dear friend Master Kenobi has told me an astonishing thing. For centuries we have known that our ancestors were cheated out of their land—land purchased with worthless baubles we believed were legal tender.
“For years we had no means of redress, save to accept whatever sops Cestus Cybernetics threw our way. But that has changed.” Her eyes gleamed like cut emeralds. “Master Kenobi brought with him one of Coruscant’s finest barristers, a Vippit who knows their laws well. And according to the central authority, if we should choose to press our suit, we can destroy Cestus Cybernetics. If we own the land beneath their factories, we can charge them whatever we wish for land usage, possibly even take the facilities themselves.”
“What?” exclaimed Kosta, the council’s eldest member. All X’Ting cycled between the male and female genders every three years, and Kosta was currently female. Although too old for egg bearing, her sac was still swollen to impressive size. She looked shocked. “Is this true?”
“You would do nothing except destroy the planet!” Caiza Quill sputtered. Only minutes earlier Duris had deposed him as head of the council. His rage and surrender pheromones still spiced the air. “Destroy Cestus Cybernetics, and you destroy our economy!”
Kosta’s expression bristled with naked contempt for Quill’s transparent half-truths. “The hive was here before Cestus Cybernetics. It is not the hive that will suffer if this company changes hands … or even if it dies. It will be those who have sold themselves to offworlders for a promise of power.”
“But my lords,” Duris said, drawing their attention back to her once again. “I have obligations to the offworlders, people who came to Cestus with skills and heart, wanting only to build a life here. We cannot use this opportunity to destroy. We must use it to build, and heal.”
The X’Ting hive council members nodded, perhaps pleased by her empathy. Although she was new to their ranks, they seemed satisfied with her grasp of the responsibilities.
But Quill was in no way mollified by her words. His stubby wings quivered with rage. “You have won nothing, Duris! I will block you, I swear. Regardless of what you think you have, what you think you know … this isn’t over yet.” He stormed out, humiliated and enraged.
Obi-Wan had watched the proceedings, withholding comment, but now he had to speak. “Can he do that?”
“Perhaps,” Kosta replied. “Any member of the Families can veto any specific business deal.” She was referring to the Five Families, who ran the mines and factories that fed the droid works. Once there had only been four, but Quill had wormed his way into their midst by delivering labor contracts and quelling dissent, selling out his own people in the process. “If he believes it is in his best interest, or just for the sake of hatred, he will try.” An alarming thought seemed to occur to her. “He might try to keep you from sending the Supreme Chancellor this information. Perhaps you should send it immediately.”
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan shook his head. “The Chancellor will use it as legal pretext to shut down Cestus Cybernetics. In that case, no one wins. Your best bet is to use this information as emergency leverage.”
Only days before, Obi-Wan had arrived on Cestus to stop the planet from selling its deadly bio-droids to the Confederacy. By means of a unique “living circuit” design, the droid works had created a machine that could actually anticipate an attacker’s moves. Understanding their potential, Count Dooku had ordered thousands of the devices—originally designed for small-scale security work—with every intention of converting them to battle droids.
The thought of such an army, marching in the thousands, chilled Obi-Wan’s blood. In the face of such a juggernaut, both the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic might fall. The spread of such lethal devices must be stopped at all costs!
The favored means of deterrence was negotiation, but bombardment was not out of the question. Initial contacts had not been promising: Cestus Cybernetics was loath to cease production of such a valuable commodity, and believed Chancellor Palpatine would never order the destruction of a peaceful planet selling a legal product. With the X’Ting as allies, Obi-Wan’s assignment would be far simpler.
Over the last days he had gained the trust of G’Mai Duris, Cestus’s puppet Regent, and taken the first steps to furnish her with real political authority. If he could win over the hive council, as well, there might be serious cause for optimism.
The council members listened to him speak of politics and finances, swiftly comprehending the reasons it might profit them to side with Coruscant. But after expressing confidence in his assessment, they swiftly changed the subject. “There is another matter to discuss, Master Jedi.”
He glanced at Duns, seeking a clue about the new concern. The Regent turned to face him, moving one portion of her segmented body at a time. Her primary and secondary arms spread, empty palms extended, X’Ting body language indicating confusion. “I know nothing of this,” she said.
Kosta drummed the fingers of her secondary hands against the table. She consulted with the other members of the council, speaking in clicks and pops, and then addressed Obi-Wan. “It is possible, Master Jedi, that you can perform a great service for us this day.”
“In what fashion?” he asked.
Again the council members glanced at one another, as if measuring the wisdom of speech. Then, after a brief conference, Kosta began.
“There is one other way that Quill might hurt us, if he decides that the hive is no longer deserving of his loyalty.”
That was a possibility. Certainly, Quill’s addiction to power and nake
d self-interest might trigger betrayal.
Obi-Wan felt an emotional charge building in the chamber. He knew that sense: fear of approaching a threshold. The hive council was about to do something that could make the X’Ting deeply vulnerable.
Kosta continued. “What we are about to tell you is known only to members of the council, and to elite members of the hive’s warrior clan. Even G’Mai Duris did not know this, although her partner, Filian, did.” She bowed respectfully. “Filian was forced to conceal this knowledge from you, by oath.”
It was clear this revelation was painful to Duris. Until now, she had clung to the illusion that she had known her deceased mate completely. “What is it?”
“There is much about the history of our planet that you could not know, Master Jedi. Much that is not in the fabled archives of Coruscant.”
“Regrettable, but always true,” Obi-Wan said. “Please illuminate.”
“Once,” Kosta explained, “the hive was strong. We had defeated the spider people in a great war, and brought the entire planet under the rule of the hive and our queen, who was wise and just. We believed that it was time for us to enter the galactic community. But this was not merely a matter of gaining political recognition. We coveted the role of trading partner, but what resources might we offer to become so?
“What products could we produce? What minerals might we have? We searched, and found nothing that was not available on worlds nearer the galaxy’s central hub. Nothing that would give us the advantage we sought.
“Then we heard a rumor that Coruscant was planning to expand its prison system, and was looking for host worlds on the Rim that might be willing to lease or sell land for such facilities. Land was one thing Cestus had in plenty, and it seemed an admirable opportunity. Overtures were made, and we won a contract.”
She sighed! “At first, all seemed well. Several facilities were constructed, and the scum of the galaxy were safely quartered in reconstructed caverns beneath our sands.”
All of this Obi-Wan knew, of course.
“Once the deal was struck, we swallowed our pride and accepted a position on the Republic’s bottom rung. Many of our workers were hired for the mines and factories. We learned to negotiate, so that future leasings and sales were more favorable. We were paid our rental fees, with which we hired surveyors to more carefully examine our resources with a mind to expanding trade.
“Then something completely unexpected happened. Executives from Cybot Galactica were convicted of fraud and gross negligence and sentenced to prison here. These former beings of power were forced to dig in the depths of the caverns. Some of the work was useful: enlarging their living spaces, building shops and offices. Some of it was mere make-work, the time-honored prison task of turning big rocks into little ones. But during the digging, the executives discovered minerals used in advanced droid fabrication. A treasure, floating unsuspected in the Outer Rim!
“The executives hatched a plan to free themselves. In meetings with the prison authorities, they proposed to make the guards and warden wealthy beyond their dreams. The essence of the proposal was that the pooled talents and contacts of the various prisoners might well create an endless stream of first-class droids. Here on Ord Cestus there was labor aplenty, mountains of raw material, skill, and savvy. They needed only permission.
“The deal was struck, the stage set for the creation of Cestus Cybernetics. The executives put out the word to former customers and employees, and immigration to Ord Cestus began in earnest. The first factory was in operation within a standard year, producing a modest repair droid that received favorable reviews and respectable orders. They were up and running.”
Kosta raised her voice. “But as the fledgling company grew in power and wealth, it came into conflict with the queen and king. First, managers purchased additional land with worthless synthetic gems. The royals were forced to swallow this humiliation, but they did attempt to negotiate larger shares of wealth for the hive, for the education of our people, for healthcare.”
“Healthcare?”
“A necessity. Since the founding of the prison there had been numerous strange and damaging ailments spreading through our population. The inmates, from every corner of the galaxy, brought countless diseases with them, creating wave after wave of illness. We sickened by the thousands.
“The negotiations were fierce. Our rulers threatened to withhold X’Ting labor and to refuse to allow Cestus Cybernetics to expand its mining operation.
“Then the Great Plague hit us.” Kosta leaned forward, emerald eyes gleaming. “I know that it cannot be proved, but we knew, knew that this plague was no accident. It was unleashed upon us to destroy the royal family, to splinter the hive so that there would be no effective opposition. Perhaps even to exterminate us.”
Obi-Wan flinched at the passion in those words. Was such villainy possible? Foolish to ask: of course it was. Coruscant knew little of what happened on the Outer Rim. And since Cestus Cybernetics controlled the official information stream, any conceivable perfidy might have been concealed.
“And this genocide almost worked. But as the plague swept through the hive, a frantic plan was put into action: to place several healthy eggs in suspended animation and to hide them in a special vault deep below Cestus’s surface, where only a chosen few would know the truth, the path, and the method of opening.
“The vault was constructed by Toong’l Security Systems—a company in competition with Cestus Cybernetics, and known to be trustworthy. The workers were blind-shuttled to the site and never knew the location. When it was completed, we knew that whatever happened to the rest of the royals, there would be at least one fertilized egg pair that was safe—royals, who could mate and create a new line.”
Instantly, Obi-Wan grasped the significance. After the plague, the surviving X’Ting had scattered across the surface of Ord Cestus. But a new royal line might draw them back together again, unite them. G’Mai Duris was but Regent, holding the power until the return of a new royal pair. Under her capable hands the power transfer might rejuvenate this unhappy planet. A promising idea!
Obi-Wan organized his thoughts carefully, and then spoke. “So … with this news about the ownership of the land beneath Cestus Cybernetics, a pair of royals to unite the planet might give you greater voice on Coruscant, and build your people a better future?”
“Yes,” Kosta agreed, eyes sparkling. “There are problems, though. First, the plague was deadlier than we expected. After the royals died, several X’Ting clans chose to stay deep below the surface, to seal off all contact with offworlders. They became almost a separate hive: there has been virtually no contact with those clans for a century. Worse still, every X’Ting who knew the secret of the vault died in the plague. All that remain are keys to open the outer door. Lastly, Toong’l Security Systems was destroyed when its planet was struck by a comet. Its leaders might have told us how to open the vault, but …” Kosta made a resigned shrugging motion.
Obi-Wan squinted. “But certainly you can still use other means to retrieve the eggs.”
The old X’Ting female sighed, nervously knotting the fingers of primary and secondary hands. “You don’t understand the status of royals. By breeding and culture, every X’Ting must obey them. It is our way, and it is in our blood. Therefore, they are both the greatest treasure, and the greatest threat. An X’Ting royal pair in the hands of Cestus Cybernetics would reduce every X’Ting on this planet to slavery. Rather than have that happen, a tamper detector was built into the vault. We are not certain as to its details, but we have reason to believe that after three unsuccessful attempts to open the chamber, the eggs will be destroyed.”
By the stars! These people had been so desperate?
“So …,” he began cautiously. “What service do you wish of me?”
“Twice in the past we tried to regain the precious eggs. Twice our bravest have tried to reach the vault. Twice they perished before they could reach it.” A pause. “There is a story whispere
d among our people. It is said that a hundred and fifty years ago a visitor came from the center of the galaxy. A warrior with powers beyond any the X’Ting had ever seen. He called himself a Jedi. It is said his courage and wisdom saved our people. I think it no mere coincidence that now, in our hour of need, another Jedi has appeared.”
Obi-Wan felt a thrill of alarm. He had not anticipated such a situation. “Madam,” he said, “it is a great weight you wish me to carry.”
“We believe you capable of withstanding it.”
He had heard no story in the Jedi archives about a visit to Ord Cestus, but it was certainly possible. Many Jedi avoided acclaim; they were capable of stunning feats of valor, followed by such modesty that they might decline even to give their names. “And you fear that Quill, angry with the Regent, might betray these secret eggs to the Five Families. And that they might launch their own effort to recover them, and use them against you.”
“You see our situation, yes.”
He did. Coruscant wanted something: the cessation of droid production. The X’Ting, indeed all beings on this planet, were more or less dependent on a continued income stream from Cestus Cybernetics. Obi-Wan was asking them to side with him, to trust him. He had thought to do this through diplomacy, but providence had given him a means of winning their trust more directly, had he sufficient courage. “I accept your request. I will attempt to recover your eggs,” he said.
Kosta sighed in relief. “You will need a guide. A small cluster of X’Ting warriors have studied the original maps through the deep hive. Originally there were five brood-mates. Only one survives.” She turned to the others. “Call Jesson.”
The council members leaned their heads together, touching antennae as they buzzed and clicked in X’Tingian. After a few moments a small male left the table and scuttled off into aside tunnel.
The Cestus Deception: Star Wars (Clone Wars): A Clone Wars Novel Page 37