As they continued in an intimate silence, Leia cast her gaze about her at the sea, the beach, and the sky. “This is nice, Han,” she said, as Anakin looked up from his sand sculptures and came running toward them. “Thank you. I don’t feel quite so much like one of the squibs out here.”
Chapter Eleven
“Admiral!” The nurse-medic saluted smartly. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I was informed that Plat Mallar has been removed from the bacta tank,” said Admiral Ackbar, cocking his head slightly.
“Yes, sir—about two hours ago. He’s doing well. Dr. Yintal was able to speak to him briefly.”
“Where is Dr. Yintal now?”
“Emergency, sir. There was an accident out at Biggs Field, just a short time ago—”
“Yes,” said Ackbar. “I know.”
“Do you have any information about what happened, sir? All we’ve heard here are rumors—”
“A student in a TX-sixty-five missed his approach and crashed on a taxiway,” Ackbar said. “Two other trainers and a command shuttle were hit by the debris. I have been told of three dead and sixteen injured.”
“Thank you, sir. That gives us some idea what to get ready for up here.”
“I will leave you to that in a moment,” said Ackbar. “Did you say that Plat Mallar regained consciousness?”
“Just briefly, right after he came out of the tank. He and Dr. Yintal exchanged a few words. But the prisoner’s sleeping now.”
“Mind your words—Plat Mallar is not a prisoner,” Ackbar said sharply.
“I’m sorry, sir. I understood that he was an Imperial pilot, from an Imperial depot world—”
“You are mistaken,” said Ackbar. “He is a brave young man who risked his life to try to help his people. And I have taken a special interest in his welfare. I expect him to receive the very best care this facility can offer—is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the nurse-medic said contritely. “I understand, sir.”
“I would like to see him now. Is he still in Unit Number Five?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take you there—”
“That is not necessary,” Ackbar said. “See to your preparations.”
The bacta tank in Intensive Care Unit #5 was vacant and drained. A young Grannan male lay in the IC bed nearby, monitor bands on his broad forehead, soft thorax, and left wrist.
Standing close by the bed, Ackbar leaned over the patient and studied him closely. Plat Mallar’s fingers were drawn up short into his skin-cuff, and his eye crease was closed and sealed with a thin bead of a glistening secretion. A clear gas tube pumped methanogen into Plat Mallar’s respiratory sacs; an opaque red tube carried his poisonous wastes away.
But his skin had regained the typical Grannan color and luster; despite the surroundings, he no longer appeared on the brink of death.
“Good,” Ackbar said to himself. “Good.”
Hoping that Plat Mallar’s sleep was as restful as it appeared, Ackbar moved the self-adjusting chair over beside the bed, then settled his large body into it. Setting his comlink on the bed beside him where he could reach it quickly if called, Ackbar placed his hands on his knees in a familiar and comfortable posture.
“Sleep, little one,” he said quietly. “Sleep and heal. When you are ready, I will be here.”
Leaning forward across the control yoke, Han Solo peered sideways out the windshield at the steps leading to the main entrance to the General Ministry.
“Where are The Sniffer and The Shooter?” he asked Leia. “I don’t see them. You didn’t tell Nanaod you were coming back today, did you. Do you want me to come in with you?”
“No,” she said, gathering up her robes so that she could climb out. “But I hope you’ll be at home when I get there. I might need you then.”
“We’ll be there,” Han said, nodding. “You sure you don’t need me to come up, now?”
“I’m sure,” she said. “I’m just going to go do what needs to be done, and we’ll see what happens after that.”
The entrance to the Grand Ministry had once been the reception entrance to the Imperial Palace. Forty polished stone steps led up to triple metal-mosaic doors sheltered under a great cantilevered stone awning edged with eight stars—symbols of the founding signatories of the Declaration of a New Republic.
The security monitors spotted Leia as soon as she stepped out of the speeder. A courtesy droid met her at the doors and opened one. Walking with long-strided purpose, she started down the main promenade, ignoring the expressions of surprise and whispers of curiosity she left in her wake.
By the time she was halfway down the main promenade, The Sniffer and The Shooter came running up from behind to join her. She did not break her stride, but continued into the General Ministry’s central offices.
The office staff rose at once as she entered. An older woman emerged from a back room and rushed forward to meet her.
“Madame President,” said Poas Trell, the first administrator’s executive aide. “We weren’t told you were coming—the first administrator is over at the Senate this morning—”
“That’s all right,” said Leia. “No special preparations were called for. Where is the minister of state?”
“Minister Falanthas is meeting with the Vorkaan delegation. But I could have him paged—”
“No,” said Leia. “That’s not necessary either. Do you have the emergency petitions for membership?”
“The originals? Why, yes—they’re in Minister Falanthas’s secure file.”
“I want them,” said Leia. “And an endorsement tablet.”
“Of course, Madame President. Won’t you let me call the administrator and Minister Falanthas?”
“Completely unnecessary. They have their work to do, and I have mine,” Leia said. “We’ll use your staff conference room, if it’s available. You can witness.”
Plat Mallar stirred in the infirmary bed and made a noise that might have been a soft groan. Setting his datapad aside, Admiral Ackbar leaned forward and watched as the young Grannan’s eye crease opened and his eyes sought to focus.
“Good morning,” Ackbar said, patting Mallar’s hand. “Don’t be afraid. Do you know where you are?”
“ ’Ospitai,” Mallar said in a croak.
“Yes. You are in the New Republic Fleet Infirmary on Coruscant,” said Ackbar. “And I am Ackbar.”
Plat Mallar’s eyes widened. “Cor’scant? How? I was—what about Polneye—what happened—”
“I will tell you everything, in time. Some of it is hard to hear,” Ackbar said gravely. “But none of that matters today.”
“Thought—I was dying,” Mallar said. Each word was an effort.
“Today you start to live again. And, if you will allow me, I will be here to help you.”
Mallar raised an unsteady hand a few centimeters and pointed. “Wha’r’ you?”
“I am Mon Calamari,” said Ackbar. “And you are Grannan. I have never met a Grannan before today. Have you ever met one of my people?”
Mallar shook his head slightly.
“Then perhaps we both can learn from each other.”
“Uniform,” Mallar said. “Wha’r’ you? ’r’you my doctor?”
Ackbar glanced down at his battle dress. “I am just an old star pilot without enough sense to go home,” he said, rising. “I’ll bring your doctor now. He’ll have more important things to talk about.”
Poas Trell could not keep the frown off her face as she handed a seated Leia the stack of petitions. “Madame President, when you said that I could witness—”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“Madame President, Minister Falanthas’s aide alerted him to your arrival before I reached the office. He’s on his way down now. Could I possibly impose on you to wait just a few minutes—”
“No,” said Leia. “There’s nothing to discuss. I have the authority to grant these requests, and I intend to do so. Where is the endorsement tablet?”
“My auxiliary is fetching one,” said Trell. “It will be here shortly.”
Leia raised a questioning eyebrow. “It looks like we’ve received some additional petitions.”
“Yes, Madame President. There are twenty-three all told, eighteen from Farlax and five from elsewhere. The administrator and Minister Falanthas were discussing with Chairman Beruss a proposal that the four systems closest to the hostilities be placed in an accelerated approval process—”
“I can accelerate that process considerably if you’ll just get that endorsement tablet in here.”
Trell was openly squirming. “Princess, I’m very uncomfortable with this—”
“Are you questioning my authority to act on these petitions?”
“No, of course not, Princess Leia. I only thought you might see value to consulting with your senior ministers on your decision, and coordinate your timing with—”
“The endorsement tablet, please,” Leia said firmly. “Or I take these with me to my own offices and deal with them there. And then I inform Nanaod that he will need to find a new executive aide, since the last one has been dismissed for insubordination.”
Trell let her comlink slip down into her hand. Her fingers twisted the endpiece. “Faylee,” she said evenly. “Have you located a tablet yet?”
A moment later the door to the staff conference room opened, and a clerk entered bearing an endorsement tablet. Trell nodded toward Leia, and the clerk placed the tablet on the table in front of her, then excused herself.
“Will you sit down?” Leia invited, indicating the chair opposite hers.
When Trell complied, Leia placed the first petition on the tablet and activated its recording system. The prism-shaped bulge at the top of the tablet contained three holo lenses—one to record the document itself, one to record the signer in the act of signing, and one to record the witness sitting opposite.
“President Leia Organa Solo, acting for the New Republic in the matter of the emergency petition of Galantos for membership,” she said, taking up the endorsing stylus.
“Poas Trell, senior aide to First Administrator Engh, witnessing.”
Leia signed the petition with a flourish. “Approved. President Leia Organa Solo, acting for the New Republic in the matter of the emergency petition of Wehttam for membership—”
When Leia reached the fifth document in the stack, Trell hesitated. “Do you mean to approve all the Farlax petitions?”
“I mean to approve all the petitions, period. Please continue.”
Trell drew a long breath, thought something she decided not to say, and folded her hands on the table. “Poas Trell, senior aide to the first administrator—”
Minister Falanthas arrived just in time for Leia to hand him the stack of approved petitions as she left. “Good morning, Mokka,” she said. “I’m sorry you were called away from your meeting for nothing. But since you’re here, let me ask you to see that all the governments are notified as soon as possible. No, wait—do you happen to know if Councillor Jobath is still on Coruscant?”
“I believe he is at the diplomatic hostel.”
“Then you can leave Galantos to me—I’d like to inform the councillor myself.”
As she started to leave, Minister Falanthas looked down at the stack of documents in his hands, then up at Leia. “What should I tell Chairman Beruss?”
“Tell him that we’ve done the right thing,” Leia called back to him. “Tell him we can move on to the hard decisions now.”
“Dr. Yintal called you ‘Admiral,’” said Plat Mallar as he and Ackbar walked slowly through the exercise garden in the courtyard of the Fleet infirmary. “He treated you like more than an old star pilot. He treated you like someone important.”
“Dr. Yintal is unusually respectful for a doctor,” Ackbar said. “How does it feel to be moving?”
“Better than it did to be in that bed,” said Mallar. “Was I really in that tank for sixteen days?”
“I was there when you were brought in,” said Ackbar. “You were terribly, terribly ill.”
“Is a day here the same as a day on Polneye?”
“Just the same, I suspect—one sunset to the next,” Ackbar said, and chuckled at his own joke. “Does Polneye still use Imperial System measures and the decimal clock?”
“Yes.”
“A day here is fourteen hundred standard time parts long,” Ackbar said. “You can adjust your expectations accordingly.”
“That’s shorter,” said Mallar. “The Polneye day is eighteen hundred ST. Still, sixteen days—” His expression suddenly changed to one of worry. “How am I going to pay for all that?”
“You owe us nothing,” said Ackbar. “Your care is a gift from the New Republic, one we are more than happy to give.” He paused and gestured toward a nearby bench. “Would you like to stop for a while?”
“No,” Mallar said, nodding. “It feels good to be walking.”
“Then we will walk,” said Ackbar, resuming his almost-shuffling pace.
“Dr. Yintal said he didn’t know anything about what’s been happening at Polneye,” Mallar said after a time. “If you are an admiral, does that mean you might know more?”
“I’m afraid the last report we have from Polneye is yours,” Ackbar said. “We have not been able to raise them, or to send a scout in.”
“In sixteen days? Why not?”
“Plat Mallar, you must try to prepare yourself for the idea that you are the only survivor of that horrible attack,” said Ackbar.
“But Ten South was still standing—and there was a transport on the ground—”
“We have analyzed the recordings from your interceptor,” Ackbar said. “The transport was being loaded with droids and other equipment. I’m afraid there is little foundation for hope.”
Mallar fell silent for more than half a lap around the courtyard. “Who did it?” he asked at last. “Can you at least tell me who killed my family?”
“The attack was carried out by the Yevetha,” Ackbar said.
“The Yevetha?” Mallar asked, indignant. “Who are the Yevetha?”
“They are a species native to Koornacht Cluster. They were enslaved by the Empire but seem to have stolen the Empire’s technologies, and perhaps a substantial battle fleet as well. Several other colonies were attacked at the same time. Our information is far from complete, but you are, in fact, the only known survivor.”
“What are you doing about them?”
“We have taken steps to protect the other inhabited worlds near Koornacht,” said Ackbar. “We are still looking at what we can do to respond to the Yevethan aggression.”
“What I saw wasn’t aggression,” said Mallar. “It was murder. It was nothing but calculated butchery.”
“Yes,” Ackbar said, nodding. “It was.”
“Then I don’t understand. Is what I’ve heard about the New Republic wrong? You deposed the Emperor because of the injustices under his rule. You stood up against the whole Imperial Navy over principle. Is that true, or propaganda?”
“It is true.”
“And you still have a great fleet of your own?”
“Yes.”
Mallar stopped and turned to Ackbar. “Will you use it?”
“That decision is in the hands of the civil government,” Ackbar said. “I do not know what they will decide.”
“Why is this so difficult?”
“You may not understand this, Plat Mallar, but it is not easy to rouse a democracy to war,” said Ackbar. “Not unless it has been attacked directly. Everything must be discussed. The provocation must be more compelling than the politics. And it always takes time.” Ackbar shook his head. “Sixteen days is not enough time.”
“What do you think will happen? Tell me what you honestly believe,” said Mallar. “It’s important.”
Ackbar nodded. “I believe that, in the end, we will call the Yevetha to account. But there will be an ugly fight here first.”
“Thank you,”
Mallar said. “Do you know when I can leave the hospital?”
“Whenever Dr. Yintal is satisfied with your recovery,” said Ackbar. “I would think another day at least. Do you have plans already?”
“Yes,” said Plat Mallar. “I’m going to volunteer to join your pilot corps. When you call the Yevetha to account, I want to be part of it. That’s the only thing that matters to me now. That’s all there is that’s worth doing.”
By the time Leia reached the executive suite on the fifteenth level of the Ministry Center, Alole and Tarrick were standing and talking just inside the suite’s reception entrance, inconspicuously positioned to either greet or intercept her. Alole’s face lit up as she turned toward Leia.
“Princess—we just heard that you were back.”
“I’ll bet you heard,” said Leia with a wry smile. “How are you, Alole?”
“I’m fine, Princess.”
“Tarrick?”
“Very well, Madame President.”
“Then is there any reason we can’t go inside and get to work?”
“None at all,” Tarrick said, breaking into a smile.
Once in Leia’s private office, both the formality and the familiarity quickly passed. “So—how does the damage look from your end of the lifeboat?”
“Better now that you’re here again,” Tarrick said.
“We’ve been having some trouble with the steerage,” Alole said.
“Oh?”
“A lot of people trying to grab the wheel.”
Leia nodded. “How long is my hot list?”
“Manageable,” Alole said. “We’ve been handling everything we could on our own. But Nanny is pretty insistent on seeing you at the earliest opportunity.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Leia said. “Alole, please call over to the Senate and see if Bennie has any time for me today.”
“Right away,” Alole said, fading back toward the door. “Your hot list is on your datapad.”
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