“What is?” Luke asked.
“Centerpoint,” Lando said. “Centerpoint is right in the middle of it all. Think about it. There are three big, impressive, inexplicable technologies at the middle of this crisis. The first, and the easiest to explain, is the system-wide jamming. Impressive, but all you really need for that is a whole lot of power. And where does the jamming come from?”
“Centerpoint,” Jenica said. “Without Fed-Dub even knowing about it—and we ran the place.”
“Or at least you thought you did,” Lando said. “Second up is the interdiction field. Nothing incredible about it, beyond its size. But if you had a powerful enough gravitic generator, you could do it. Where does it come from?”
“Centerpoint,” Jenica said again. “And from what you were asking about earlier, you thought it had something to do with the way we’re right at the balance point of gravitic potential.”
“Right. I have no idea how, but it seems to me that Centerpoint taps into the gravitic output of the Double Worlds. Now it seems someone has found a way to convert that power into an interdiction field.”
“And the third unexplained technology?” Luke asked.
Lando looked straight at him. “The novamaker, of course. The starbuster. We all wondered how it was done. We all wondered where the starbuster was. I’m just about positive we’re sitting in it right now. I think the Glowpoint flare means it’s just about to go off again.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Meeting in Progress
It was a lovely morning. The star Corell was rising in the east. The lovely rolling hills and clean blue sky of Selonia were laid out before them. The Hunchuzuc Den had put them up in a splendid hilltop villa, clearly purpose-built for the use of visiting human dignitaries. They had been comfortable and well cared for from the moment Mara Jade had set the Jade’s Fire down.
“I am tired of waiting, Dracmus,” Han said.
“Patience, Honored Solo. Waiting is not yet tired of you.”
“Whatever that means,” Han growled. “Have you ever given a straight answer in your life?”
“What, exactly, are you meaning by straight answer?”
Han Solo turned to his wife, who was sitting placidly at the breakfast table. “You see what I’ve had to put up with?” he asked. Dracmus had come to pay her morning call, as she did every day. And as he did every day, Han found himself wondering what the point of the visit was. “Riddles. Incoherent riddles. That’s all I ever got. It’s all we ever get.”
“Take it easy, Han,” Leia said. “Patience is the hardest part of diplomacy.”
“But mine has reached its limits,” Han said.
“I’m afraid I agree with Han,” Mara said. “Things are moving too fast everywhere else for me to put up with waiting here any longer.”
“I’m still not even sure why we are here,” Han said. “Right from the moment you yanked me out of that cell, I haven’t known for sure if I was your partner or your prisoner. Are we prisoners? Hostages, maybe? Or are we here to negotiate something? And if so, what?”
“I’m afraid it is not that simple,” Dracmus said. “To my people, these things—partner, prisoner, hostage, negotiator—are not so separate from each other as they are with your folk. To my people, one might be only one of these or all of them at once, or some of them changingly over time.”
“So which is it?” Han asked, a very clear warning note in his voice. A note Dracmus plainly missed.
“It is not yet determined. You must understand that to my people consensus is being all. Ambiguity has much use for us. If the issue is uncertain, then the meeting can go on, for disagreement is more difficult if no one understands the problem fully.”
“So is agreement,” Han said. “There are people with guns and ships out there who are shooting at our people. There is not much ambiguity out there.”
“Please! Please!” Dracmus said. “Understanding your impatience, but what you ask is not our way. For my people—”
“Traditions make for an awfully handy set of excuses,” Mara said. “Every time I have ever dealt with a Selonian who didn’t want to do something, she’s explained to me how tradition made it impossible, or the ways of her people caused it to be difficult to decide, or whatever excuse seemed handy. And my people always had to be respectful of your ways, and accept the structure of your culture. No more. This isn’t some trade deal for luxury goods where you can leave us hanging for six months on the off chance that your convenient traditions will get us so frustrated that we give up and offer a better price. This is war. This is survival. There is no time. It is time for you to accept the ways of our culture before we are all wiped out. It is our way to speak plain, to speak true, to choose a course, and to follow it.”
“Please!” said Dracmus. “You must endure. Things are being complex. Take time to solve all.”
“But there is no time,” Mara said, putting a hard-edged emphasis on her words. “We cannot take what no longer exists, and we have run out of time. Or rather, you have. I may be many things, but I will not be your prisoner.”
“What is the meaning of your words?” Dracmus asked.
“Inform whoever it is you should inform that I am leaving. In one hour, I am going to walk around to the landing pad on the other side of this villa. I am going to get aboard the Jade’s Fire and I am going to fly away. My companions are welcome to join me if they wish, but I will be leaving in any event. I would also remind you that Leia and I escaped from the Human League and flew the Jade’s Fire off Corellia, while we were facing much heavier opposition than anything I have seen here so far. Besides which, as my ship is the one that brought the Chief of State of the New Republic to this planet, the case could be made that an attack on it constitutes an attack on the New Republic that you claim to recognize and support. In short, I would not suggest trying to stop me. You will not succeed, and I will not be responsible for any damage from the attempt.”
“But—but—”
“The only way to prevent my departure is to have our group meet with someone in authority, someone who will provide clear answers to our questions, someone with the power to make decisions before that hour is up. If such a person does not appear, I will leave—”
“And I’ll be with her,” said Han, and turned toward his wife.
Leia looked troubled and angry, but she nodded. “And so will I.”
Dracmus looked from one of them to the other. “But—but—”
“But you have one hour,” Mara said. “Vanish. Go make things happen.”
Dracmus looked positively frantic. “I will be seeing what I can do. Please! Do not go.”
“One hour,” Mara said. “Go. Move.”
Dracmus nodded, turned, dropped to all fours, and rushed away as fast as she could.
“If I didn’t believe in the power of a united front, I would have refused to go along with you,” Leia said, her voice testy. “You did some damage, but it would have been worse if I had refused to play along. I’m a diplomat, and you’re not. You should have let me do the talking.”
“I’ve been letting you do the talking, and all it’s gotten us so far is an enforced vacation at this villa. I’m a businesswoman, a trader. Negotiation is my stock in trade.”
“Do you call insulting our hosts negotiating?”
“Negotiating is the art of getting what you want,” Mara said. “It’s not the art of making the other side feel better.”
“They aren’t the ‘other side.’ They’re our partners in this negotiation.”
“If they were our partners, we wouldn’t need to negotiate,” Mara said smoothly.
Han noticed something. Mara’s sharp tone, her apparent anger, her impatience, had all vanished at the same time Dracmus did. They had all been performance, posturing, for Dracmus’s sake. Now she was calm, relaxed, as she spoke.
“Partners or opponents, I still don’t think we’ll get anywhere pushing them around like that,” Leia said.
“We’ll fi
nd out in about fifty-seven minutes,” Mara said as she poured herself another cup of tea. “I’ve dealt with the Selonians before. Have you or Han?”
“I speak the language, and I’ve dealt with them socially. But I haven’t done any real negotiating,” said Leia.
“I haven’t really dealt with them at all,” said Han. “Not since I was a kid back on Corellia.”
“Then there is something you both have to understand,” Mara said.
Leia seemed about to protest, but Han held up his hand, asking her not to do so. “Go on, Mara,” he said.
“It’s a little hard to explain.” Mara paused for a moment. “Think—think about a sabacc game, where each player knows the other is bluffing, but they both keep shoving chips into the pot, just to save face. Neither of them can back down. Or two armies fighting each other, throwing endless troops into a vicious battle over a useless bit of land. There are cases when humans forget about the purpose of the competition, and the competition itself becomes absolutely vital. Sometimes it’s irrational. Sometimes it makes sense. Sometimes it has survival value, or evolution wouldn’t have given us the tendency. Maybe, sometimes, you’re thinking about the next hand in the game, the next battle. Maybe if she knows you just won’t quit, your opponent will decide the fight isn’t worth the cost. She’ll give up—and you’ll win the next fight without even having to fight. Of course, most of the time, it’s not even a conscious decision. We do that sort of thing without even thinking about it. It’s a blind spot.”
“None of that sounds much like Selonians,” Han said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Mara agreed. “I was talking about a human blind spot. We’re much more competitive and individualistic than the Selonians are. All that stuff about consensus isn’t just talk. They really are that way. To oversimplify just a bit, they have a compulsion to reach agreement, whether or not it makes sense, just as we sometimes feel we have to win, whether or not it makes sense. It’s something the Selonians can’t help doing in a situation like this. It’s a blind spot they have. If we just waited until they were ready for us, they could take weeks or months or years just to decide what they want to ask us for. I had to let them know they’d lose everything if they didn’t ask for something right now.”
“Are you sure that was wise?” Leia asked.
“No, I’m not. But sometimes the important thing is to make something happen. It almost doesn’t matter what.”
“That ‘almost’ can cover a lot of ground,” Han said.
“I suppose so. But maybe it means we have the chance to choose our ground. Maybe if we can figure out what’s going on around here, we can make some good decisions,” Mara said. “There’s something we need to consider. Dracmus told us that all these worlds have repulsors, and that someone from the outside was helping to organize the search for them. Fine and good. You can use one to shoot down a ship. Even better, from a military point of view. But you can shoot down a ship with a lot of things that are a lot easier to get at, easier to control, easier to aim and use. I don’t think we have the whole reason behind the scramble to grab the repulsor on Corellia. And don’t forget Dracmus said the rebels on the other worlds are searching for them—or else they’ve found them already, and they are putting them to use.”
“Using them for what?” Han asked.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Mara said. “But you don’t try that hard to grab something you don’t need urgently. Not in the middle of a war where you’re trying to save your strength for when you need it. We’ve seen all sorts of indications that the various rebellions regard the repulsors as being hugely valuable. I’m starting to think the repulsors are the whole reason there are rebels. In a sense, I don’t think there are any rebels at all. They’re a front, a smokescreen, for the real enemy.”
“What do you mean?” Leia asked.
“I have a hunch that the repulsor searches aren’t because of the revolts,” said Mara. “My guess is that the revolts are happening as a cover for the repulsor searches. We’re all fairly certain the revolts were organized from the outside. Dracmus said as much, for what that’s worth. Besides, what are the odds against rebellions on five planets simultaneously just by coincidence? There had to be some coordination. We’ve all agreed on that. I’m saying the organizing principle was the need to get at the repulsors.”
“That makes sense if it’s someone from outside doing the organizing, an external force,” said Leia. “I can’t quite see our Human League acquaintances making a first approach to their close personal friends in the Selonian Overden to put this together. If some outside force did the organizing, they could approach a dissident group on each planet, supply it with money and expertise and so on. And we know the rebels are coordinating with each other, at least to a certain extent. All of them participated in that coordinated attack against the Bakuran ships.”
“But why would the rebels cooperate with each other, and with this external force?” Han asked. “What’s in it for them?”
Leia shook her head. “I can’t say for sure, but if I were setting up the deal, I’d say something like, take our money and information, cooperate with us, use your local people to dig up the repulsor for us, hand it over to us, and when we kick the New Republic out, we’ll give you a free hand on your own planet. But in exchange we get your help—and ultimate control over your planet’s repulsor.”
“Except then you run the risk of the rebels deciding that the repulsors are worth something,” Han said.
“At a guess, something like that is what happened with the Human League,” Mara said. “If this external force idea is right, then the externals would be the ones running the starbuster—not the Human League. When the Human League started tossing threats around, the external force couldn’t have been too happy about it.”
“If they even knew about it,” Mara said. “They may be completely external to this star system. They’d have some representatives, some observers, in-system, but once the jamming comes on, you can throw the observers in jail and say whatever you want without anyone outside hearing it. And once the interdiction field goes on, outsiders can’t get at you to do anything about it. Sooner or later, the interdiction field and the jamming are turned off—but by then, Thrackan Sal-Solo is running the planet, maybe the whole star system, and the external forces can do what they like. And if he’s managed to grab a few of the repulsors by then, maybe he’s got some serious bargaining chips. Or maybe not. We don’t even know what the repulsors can be used for, let alone why they are so important.”
Leia thought for a moment. “If all this is true, then the rebels themselves aren’t the problem. It’s the repulsors, and the people who got the rebels searching for them, the external forces. It’s obvious the externals don’t care about the rebel causes—the rebels are all against each other. The Human League is mostly anti-Selonian and anti-Drall, as much as it is for anything. So the externals are supporting them for some other reason—as a way to get at the repulsors. Cut the links between the rebels and the external forces, gain control of the repulsors, figure out how to use them against the externals, and the rebellions ought to dry up and blow away.”
“Fine,” Han said. “Very nice and neat. But you’ve just given yourself a huge list of jobs there. I don’t see how we could even start to accomplish any of them.”
“But at least they’re political jobs, intelligence jobs, not military jobs,” Leia said. “Considering we have no military assets at all in system, that’s good news. There’s a military aspect, of course, but we’re hoping to get some help on that angle from the Selonians.” She glanced at Mara. “Unless the Selonians call your bluff in another forty-five minutes.”
“I wasn’t bluffing,” Mara said.
“Do you have any clear idea of how the Selonians fit into all this?” Han said. “Are the Overden and the Hunchuzuc even still fighting each other? I haven’t seen any signs of battle, or any mention of it from Dracmus—and she’s not so good at keeping secrets.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they had stopped fighting,” Mara said, “but if they have, that’s probably bad news for us. My impression is that the Overden has indeed seized control of the repulsor—and the repulsor is a very powerful weapon. Selonians aren’t much for lost causes. A lot of times we humans fight on even when all hope is lost. Honor requires it, or we’re hoping for a miracle, or we’re praying that a million-to-one chance breaks our way. Not the Selonians. Typically, a fight between two groups ends when one side or the other demonstrates they have a massive advantage over the other. The Selonians on the losing side will then see there is no point in going on, and request a negotiated settlement. More than that. They will want to ally themselves with the winners.”
“And you think our noble Hunchuzuc allies have decided that they’ve lost,” Han said. “You think they’re dickering with the Overden, and we’re part of the deal?”
“Something like that. Maybe the Overden wants us as bargaining chips, maybe as hostages, maybe they want to negotiate directly with Leia. Of course we don’t even know for sure that it’s the Overden and not the Hunchuzuc who have the repulsor. Maybe our side won.”
“It is most regrettable,” said a new voice, “but I fear that is not the case. The inestimable Mara Jade has described the situation exactly.” Han looked behind himself in surprise. The newcomer had arrived in utter silence from inside the villa. She was an older-looking Selonian, tall, but a little stooped over, her fur shot through with gray, but her eyes bright. “I am Kleyvits,” she said, “and I speak for the Overden. We have won our Hunchuzuc sisters over to our cause.” She paused, and then smiled, displaying an unpleasantly impressive collection of teeth. “And that means that we have also won all of you.”
* * *
Tendra Risant had had just about enough of waiting. It was time for a little doing.
Star Wars: The Corellian Trilogy III: Showdown at Centerpoint Page 14