Star Wars - Crystal Star

by The Crystal Star (by Vonda McIntyre)

  The shuddering extended into the chrysalis. It trembled. It shook, and expanded.

  The solidified ichor exploded. Like silver dust, the fragments hung and shivered in the air.

  Scars and scratches marred the golden shell.

  It, too, shivered, then slowly opened like a flower, revealing the Zeffliffl.

  The gold petals drew back; Waru's body resorbed them and reformed the melted scales. At Waru's base, the Zefflifflike lay quiet.

  Suddenly it shook itself like a wet puppy. Its groupmates shrilled with excitement. Its leaves, green and dark with moisture, fanned open.

  "They say," Threepio whispered, "that their groupmate has returned from the dead." The healed Zefflifflike scrambled down and disappeared among the groupmates. The mass of beings backed away, twittering.

  The silence of the auditorium ended as every being at Waru's feet burst into speech and song and light.

  "The Zefflifflike said thank you," Threepio said, speaking loudly enough for them all to hear, "and--" "And, "We will give you all our worldly goods,"'" Han said cynically.

  "No, sir, not at all," Threepio said.

  "They acclaim Waru as their benefactor. No mention of monetary recompense has been made." Han shrugged, unconvinced. "Recompense always gets mentioned," he said. "Eventually. Can we get out of here? The gratitude is making me sick." Xaverri turned away from him and walked out of the auditorium. After a moment of surprise, Han followed her. In the relative coolness and silence of the courtyard, welcome after the tumult of Waru's reception hall, he caught up to her and touched her shoulder.

  "Xaverri--!" She shrugged him off and plunged through the gateway. Outside the calligraphed arch, she spun on him.

  "Never speak, inside the courtyard. Never." "Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blow your cover." Threepio joined them. "Master Han, Mistress Xaverri, is anything wrong?" "No," Han said. "I don't think so. I don't know. Except Luke's still back there!" Han plunged through the archway and ran through the courtyard, unreasonably anxious considering Luke had been out of his sight for about a minute.

  Han pushed his way back into the auditorium.

  At first he did not see Luke anywhere. His eyes were no longer accustomed to the dimness, and the noise and heat oppressed him.

  He looked at the place where they had all been. Luke stood right where Han had left him.

  The young Jedi stared at the stage, where Waru had encysted another supplicant.

  "Come on!" Han said. He grabbed Luke by the sleeve and dragged him bodily out of the theater.

  Luke did not resist.

  Xaverri was walking away, already a couple of hundred paces down the trail to the main entry of the dome. Threepio hovered halfway between, moving a few steps toward Xaverri and calling her name plaintively, then returning. When he saw Han and Luke, he stopped stock-st in relief, then hurried to join them.

  "She would not wait, Master Han," Threepio said. "I asked her politely, but..." Threepio stopped, at a loss for ^ws.

  "You worry too much," Han said.

  "Purple-Three. Come on." Han led Luke past Threepio. Only when they had caught up to Xaverri did he let Luke go. Han's brother-in-law had made no attempt to escape. His gaze was distant, his expression blank.

  "Luke! What's wrong? Snap out of it!

  Xaverri, wait!" She complied, but her shoulders were stiff with anger.

  Luke raised his head. Suddenly he was back, his usual self.

  "Is Waru your lost Jedi?" Han demanded.

  "No," Luke said. "I don't think so.

  I don't know. I don't know what it is." He gazed into the distance. "I ought to be able to tell, to sense another Jedi Master. But I can't." He took a deep breath.

  "Is it any kind of manifestation of the Force?" Han asked Luke.

  Luke hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm sure I'd know it if it were. It isn't.

  It's... something else." He smiled, a luminescent smile that wiped out his hesitation, his apprehension.

  "But it.was amazing," Luke said. "Wasn't it amazing?" Xaverri nodded. "Every time I see Waru do that, I cannot believe it. But I must." "I don't believe it," Han said. "If that thing isn't a manifestation of the Force, what else could it be but a fraud? I can think of six different ways Waru--whatever it is--cd bring off that illusion. Substitute another Zefflifflike for the sick one--" "But, sir," Threepio said, "the groupmates would not have accepted a substitute for their colleague. They would have reacted to an impostor quite violently." Han shrugged. "So Waru paid them off." "The reaction cannot be bought, sir," Threepio said. "It is not conscious. It is comparable to an allergic response." Han flung up his arms in exasperation. "Then the sick one was the impostor, or a mechanical device. Or they painted the healthy one seasick-green and washed it off in the cocoon.

  It doesn't matter how they did it--what matters is, they could have done it. Waru didn't need supernatural healing powers to heal the Zefflifflike because the Zefflifflike didn't need to be healed in the first place!" Xaverri folded her arms and stared thoughtfully at the ground.

  "Do you think I have completely lost my mind?" she asked, her tone cold.

  Her contempt goaded him.

  "Yeah, that would about cover it," he said.

  "I, Xaverri, the best creator of deceptions in the old Empire?" "We all change," he said. "Look, if somebody had a really fine scam, one even you couldn't figure out--then you'd be easy to fool.

  You're so good, it's hard to imagine anyone better." "It is impossible," she said.

  Luke stared through the archway. Han feared he might have to chase Luke down again to keep him from going back inside.

  "There's something," Luke said.

  "But not your lost Jedi." "Han, it isn't a fraud." "Luke is correct," Xaverri said.

  "Fine!" Han said. "I give up! Waru is for real, which means you don't need me, because it isn't the Republic's business to interfere in people's worship!" He started down the trail without another ^w.

  "Han!" Luke called. "Where are you going?" "On vacation," Han said. "I still have some vacation left!" Threepio hurried after him.

  "Master Han, if I may be so forward--" "What is it?" "Our resources are severely depleted.

  If you plan to gamble--and I certainly do not wish to imply that I believe you should not gamble, or that I believe there is anything wrong with gambling, or that there is any possibility that you might lose--but if you plan to gamble... don't you think it would be for the best, merely as insurance of course, for you to leave some of your previous winnings in my care? That way I could pay our outstanding bill at the lodge. I noticed the lodge-keeper toting up our accounts as we left today, and he fixed me with a positively poisonous glare!" Han pulled a wad of credits out of his pocket and thrust it into Threepio's fingers.

  "When you want some money, all you have to do is say, "Can I have some money?"'" Han said.

  He laughed, thinking about the gaming table, the cards that he trusted to go his way. "Plenty more where that came from." He strode away.

  Leia and Chewbacca did what they could for Rillao, the injured Firrerreo.

  Alderaan's medical equipment expressed confusion when Leia asked for information. The Firrerreo were basically human, but something more, something different. The equipment recommended food that might not be toxic. It failed to suggest a safe antibiotic, but, then, Rillao's injuries had not become infected. She had astonishing powers of recuperation. Once the webbing had withdrawn, her skin began to regenerate and the hairline lacerations closed quickly enough for Leia to watch, with astonishment, as the healing occurred.

  Silver threads of scar tissue formed across Rillao's golden skin.

  But Rillao showed no signs of waking.

  "What else should we do?" Leia asked the nameless Firrerreo.

  He shrugged, barely moving his shoulders.

  "She'll live, Lelila, or she'll die." He sprawled in a chair, perfectly relaxed.

  "Don't you care, either way?" "She isn't my clan." Leia let the subje
ct drop. She brushed Rillao's striped hair away from her thin, fierce face and drew a blanket up around her shoulders.

  "Do your people sleep lying down?" she asked the nameless Firrerreo.

  "How else?" he said, surprised into replying without an argument.

  "How else, indeed," Leia said. She laid one hand gently on Artoo-Detoo's carapace.

  "Will you watch her for me?" Artoo-Detoo beeped softly.

  "Thank you," Leia said to the droid. She turned to Chewbacca and the nameless Firrerreo.

  "Are you hungry?" Chewbacca roared, with relief and hunger.

  "Me, too," Leia said.

  She was ravenous. She had had nothing since the chamberlain's cookies and drugged tea. She led the way to Alderaan's tiny galley. She wondered if the Firrerreo would refuse to accept food, but he sniffed the bowl of stew she gave him--the analysis had suggested his metabolism required high levels of protein--tasted a bite, and dug in hungrily. He held the bowl near his mouth and delicately plucked the meat up in his first two fingers.

  Chewbacca fixed himself a bowl of stew and garnished it with salty dry seaweed and a dribble of forest honey.

  The dinner conversation was nonexistent, until Leia scraped up the last of her stew with a spoon. As she watched the Firrerreo drink the sauce from his second serving, she thought, He accepted my food because he doesn't accept any obligation. He didn't ask me for food.

  If I asked him for gratitude, he'd say, No one asked you to offer me anything. I owe you nothing.

  "Why do you hate Rillao?" Leia asked.

  He licked his lips and glanced at the stew pot, but thought again about overloading his system with a third helping.

  "She was in the chamber!" His languor vanished and he leaned toward Leia, angry and intense.

  "She must be the reason we were exiled, Lelila. Why else would the Empire sentence her to spend the trip under torture?" "Random cruelty." Leia wondered why the Firrerreo used her name--her alias--s often.

  No matter. It helped her remember what she was calling herself.

  "No. No. The Empire is cruel, Lelila, but it directs its cruelty.

  To create fear, to extort, to increase its power--" "The Empire is gone," Leia said. "It's finished. Defeated. You're free, you and your people." If she expected gratitude or even happiness, she was disappointed.

  "Defeated!" He thumped his fist on the table.

  "You said you could give me my freedom--but, Lelila, it wasn't yours to give!" "I said you were free," Leia said. "That's all I said." If she admitted who she was, she could claim some responsibility for his freedom. Instead, she would remain Lelila.

  He growled low in his throat. Chewbacca growled, too.

  But Leia remained calm. She smiled at the unnamed one.

  "No one asked me for an explanation," she said. "You only asked me for your freedom." He snorted in disgust, but his contempt lessened, to be replaced with an expression of grudging respect. To her astonishment, he rose and bowed.

  Then he walked away.

  "Where are you going, unnamed one?" Leia asked.

  Without replying--Why did I expect him to reply? Leia thought--he left Alderaan's galley.

  She followed him; she caught up to him. He was a head taller than she, sleek and potentially powerful despite his gauntness. He continued toward the airlock without acknowledging her presence.

  "Are you going to wake up your people, unnamed one?" A few paces farther along, he said, "Here, Lelila? To what purpose?" "To regain their strength--" "The ship will return their strength while they sleep." his--and to decide what to do now that you're free!" "Should we return to our home, Lelila?" he snarled.

  He knows, Leia thought. She wondered if the Empire troops had awakened him and tormented him with the news of his world's death.

  "No," she said. "I'm sorry. It's quarantined. No one can land, and live... nothing can ever leave the planet." He stopped short at the airlock door. His shoulders slumped. Leia took his elbow, steadying him. The sound he made was the cry of a grief-stricken predator.

  And Leia knew how he felt.

  "I'm sorry," Leia said again. "I'm so sorry." He turned upon her. "Lelila, did you have a hand in poisoning my world?" "No! I--I played a small part in bringing down the people who ordered the poisoning." "The Starcrash Brigade?" The Starcrash Brigade had been one of the Empire's elite assault teams.

  "Not the Brigade--the Empire." She looked him in the eye. "It destroyed my world, too." He narrowed his wide black eyes. "Ah.

  Alderaan, yes, Lelila, I thought perhaps you were from Alderaan." The airlock door slid open. The unnamed one strode from Alderaan into the freighter's echoing entry dock. Leia grabbed his wrist, but snatched back her hand when she felt his muscles tighten.

  "What are you going to do?" she asked.

  "Continue." "But you don't have to! Everyone's free, now, within the New Republic." "The Empire bequeathed us a world. We will continue." "But it might be--y don't know--what about the other ships stranded here?" He leaned toward her. In the low gravity, the motion spread his hair around his head like a brindled halo.

  "The other ships have nothing to do with me," he said.

  "And I have nothing to do with them. Do with them as you will, Lelila. As for the new world... we are adventurous people. We will take our chances." "You'll be traveling at sublight," Leia said. "You'll be traveling for years! The Republic could give you hyperdrive, or find a world for you within its bounds--" "To what purpose?" he asked again. "We will not notice the length of time. We will not care. We will be asleep. If all memory of the Empire has vanished when we wake--s much the better.

  If your Republic has vanished when we wake --we will not care." Leia stepped back. Nothing she could say could change his mind, she knew that. He was doing what was right by his own sense of duty. She could not force him to accept hers.

  "Good-bye, then," she said. "And good luck." "May you always be shielded from the wind, Lelila." "Why do you keep repeating my name?" Leia asked.

  "For power," he said. "Lelila." The airlock door began to slide shut.

  "But I gain only a little power from your false name, Princess Leia," he said. "You wear it uncomfortably." As the airlock door closed, he said, "And your disguise is pathetic."

  Han returned to the city domes and sauntered down the street. He wanted some more of the local ale, and he wanted another card game where Chance and Hazard topped the deck. But he also wanted a different tavern from the one he had been in last night.

  "Good evening, small human." He spun around, and once more bumped his nose against the chest of the enhanced human. She laughed down at him, but Han got the distinct impression that her laughter was superficial.

  "You left our game far too soon," she said. "The cards began to turn my way, later on in the evening." "Congratulations!" Han said heartily.

  "I'm glad to hear your night wasn't a complete loss." She leaned toward him, and the heavy, entangled locks of her white hair swung down on either side of her face.

  "Nor will tonight be," she said. "You are obviously well born and well mannered, so you will, give me the chance to make myself even with you." "I wasn't planning on cards tonight," Han said. "Nope, no cards, I was just taking the air, just came out for a glass of ale." "Ale will run as plentifully as water," she said. She took his upper arm in her huge hand.

  Her fingers met around his biceps.

  "I mean, I've already had my glass of ale," he said. "Hit my limit--" He tried to twist his arm from her grip, as Luke had twisted from his. The enhanced human lifted his arm, lifted his whole body. Han stretched on tiptoe to stay in contact with the ground.

  "You may drink or not, as you choose," the enhanced human said. "But you will play." "Well, okay, sure, why didn't you say you had your heart set on a game?" Han said.

  "Fine, let's go. Would you do me a favor?

  Either put me down or pick me up. This is very uncomfortable." He thought she might sling him over her shoulder and cart him away. She could cert
ainly do it if she chose. Finally she let him down. But she did not let him loose. She urged him down the street, holding his arm tight enough to bruise.

  "I didn't get your name last night," Han said in a companionable tone. "What did you say it was? And by the way, you want to loosen up a little?" "I did not say," she said, "and you did not ask, but my name is Celestial Serenity. No, I do not want to loosen up at all." He glanced up at her. She smiled down at him and walked faster, pushing him along.

  Jaina ate her breakfast.

  She was so hungry she hardly even tasted the rancid grease that floated on top of the thin porridge. When she finished, her stomach still growled. She could smell the ripe fruit and honey and fresh hot bread that the Proctors passed among themselves.