The Eye of Darkness, page 21
Soh leaned forward in her seat. “So you’re here to ask for a seat in the Senate. That’s what you want? That’s what Marchion Ro wants? After all of this, after Valo and Starlight and the rest? He’s going to be satisfied with politicking and a seat at the table?”
Elzar watched Ghirra closely. She’d been expecting this. Of course she had. She straightened her back, refusing to be cowed by Soh’s words. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. Marchion Ro isn’t a governor or a statesman. He’s a warrior. A freedom fighter. A liberator.” She held up her hand to ward off any interjections by the chancellor. “But he understands what is needed. I know what is needed. I understand the stakes, and what it takes to govern. The people of Nihil space are thriving, Chancellor, but they need a firm hand. They need structure and support. The Nihil have given them that. Now it is time to make peace with the Republic and establish new trade opportunities and the right of free passage between us.”
“And you expect us to just welcome you with open arms? Recognize the Nihil as an official body and give you a voice in the Senate. Just like that?” said Soh.
Ghirra shrugged. “The galaxy has changed, Chancellor. Perhaps none of us saw it coming, but it happened all the same. The Nihil aren’t going anywhere, and they’re not relinquishing their territory. While there have been…decisions taken that I did not necessarily agree with, we all need to accept the inevitable: For the sake of the people, we need to find a path toward peace. That’s exactly what I’m proposing. Award us a seat on the Senate. Recognize Nihil space as a legitimate domain. What cause does that leave for anyone to keep fighting?”
“And you speak for Marchion Ro in this matter?” said Master Agra.
Ghirra jutted out her chin. “I do.”
Elzar glanced at Lina Soh. Her hands were squeezed tight into fists by her side. She looked as uncomfortable as he felt.
“We’re trying to help. By bringing me in, we can work together to establish the peace that the galaxy so desperately needs,” added Ghirra.
“And what if Marchion Ro changes his mind?” asked Elzar. He hated to admit it, but some of what Ghirra was saying made sense. Perhaps this was a way to neuter Marchion Ro. To gain access to the Occlusion Zone and the people who needed their help within.
To Kitrep, Avar, and the rest.
“He won’t.”
“And we are expected to just forgive his crimes and move on?” said Ry.
“I’m sorry,” said Ghirra. “Truly. And I understand that none of what has happened can be forgotten, let alone forgiven.” She took a deep breath, let it out. “But perhaps we have to find a way to move past it. To work together to reestablish peace. And more important, to maintain it.” She looked at Lina Soh. “What do you say?”
Soh pursed her lips. She stood, smoothing the front of her robes. Then she looked directly at Ghirra, her gaze unwavering. “I’ll think about it,” she said.
She stood, turned, and left the room.
Elzar glanced at Ghirra, noted the tiny glimmer of triumph in her eyes, and then without another word hurried out after the chancellor.
HETZAL, INSIDE THE OCCLUSION ZONE
It had been a quiet journey from Prandril to Hetzal.
Not only because KC-78’s sliced protocols continued to successfully keep the scav droid swarms at bay, but because Avar had lapsed into a deep, contemplative silence and Belin was respectful enough, or perhaps just wary enough, not to interrupt her.
She’d tried meditating in the now empty hold at the rear of the ship, but she was too distracted, and the discordant song of the Force was little consolation. She felt unsettled, still needled by her failure over the grain shipment and her inability to anticipate the ongoing needs of the colonists she’d been trying to help.
And now she was heading back to Hetzal. The place where she’d been heralded as a hero. The place she had once helped to save from disaster. The place that she’d since failed to protect from the horror that had now befallen it.
Hetzal was now the Nihil’s home. Their base of operation. The rotten heart at the center of the Occlusion Zone. The place where their unwelcome hand was felt most keenly.
Avar had no doubt that Marchion Ro had selected it most carefully. Yes, it was also the garden of what had now become Nihil space, the place from where grain and other staple foodstuffs were exported to scores of neighboring systems. But it was also the place of greatest symbolic value to the Jedi. The emblem of their first triumph against the Nihil.
Now Ro had taken it back. Had reduced that early win to ashes. And in doing so, he had undone everything the Jedi had achieved here.
Avar was beginning to wonder whether she could ever recover from this. Whether, even if she got out, she might never be the same.
And yet…she was still here. She was still fighting.
She might no longer be the hero of Hetzal, but it had to count for something that she hadn’t given up. And perhaps now, if Rhil’s coded message was to be believed, she might have a chance at making a real difference. Not only that, but she had found friendship, comradeship, and faith in the most unexpected of places—in the form of the small Ugnaught pilot known as Belin.
That was something to cling to, wasn’t it?
Besides—she was a Jedi. Achievements were irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was helping people in need. It was time she held herself accountable to that again.
Avar had avoided returning to Hetzal for almost an entire year. She knew the people here were suffering greatly under the Nihil’s yoke, that they desperately needed emancipation, but she knew, too, that it was perhaps the most dangerous location for a Jedi in the entire galaxy. It was likely that this was where Ro’s notorious Jedi-hunters were stationed, along with their pet Nameless.
If she was flying into a trap, at least she was doing it with panache.
The ship banked, skimming the planet’s atmosphere, and then the engines cut out, and Avar felt the deck beneath her drop away. She grabbed for a rail, clinging tight to keep herself upright. She felt the vessel dip into a nosedive, slow and shallow at first, but quickly gaining momentum.
She hurried through to the cockpit, fighting gravity with every step. “Belin?”
Belin craned his neck around to look at her. He was grinning broadly. “Ah, there you are. Best take a seat. This is going to get a little uncomfortable.”
Wedged in the corner, bracing himself, KC-78 trilled in panic as the rickety old transport ship creaked and groaned under the stress of its sudden, dramatic descent. Avar slid into the copilot’s chair, hurriedly strapping herself in.
“What are you…?” Avar started, but she trailed off as the ship plummeted ever faster toward the planet’s surface. A haze of red light flared across the forward viewscreen as the outside temperature soared, friction causing the outer hull plates to glow a stark, vibrant red.
“Old trick I learned in my naval days,” shouted Belin over the roaring screech of the wind. “Cut the engines and spiral into a dead drop. Makes you harder to hit, and with no engines, they can’t trace you on most scanners.”
Avar wanted to tell him that she’d probably have preferred to risk it, but she knew if she opened her mouth, she was likely to scream, so she kept it shut.
Outside, the ground was rushing up to meet them. The landing zone that Rhil had indicated in her hidden message appeared to be in a narrow crevasse in the bedrock, that was surrounded by natural woodland on three sides. Beyond, fields spread like folded sheets, demarcated in neat parcels and billowing with sheafs of tall grain. They were several kilometers from the nearest city, but Avar could just make out an enormous structure—a ramshackle fortress, by the look of it—sitting among the grain fields. It bore the circular symbol of the Nihil eye upon its upper flank, and presumably Rhil had chosen the gully to help keep the ship out of view of the tower.
Which boded well for the veracity of the message.
KC-78 gave another shrill squeal of alarm. Belin thumbed the flight controls. Alarm klaxons blared. He silenced them with a casual flick of his finger.
The ship continued to spiral like a dropped stone.
The ground swam up to meet them.
Avar felt nauseous. Her ears popped. If she’d been flying the ship herself, if she’d been in control, she’d hardly have noticed the danger. But she’d never been a good passenger.
“Right then,” muttered Belin, the tip of his tongue jutting from the corner of his mouth. He flicked another switch. The engines ignited. The ship lurched.
Belin wrenched the control stick back just as the nose of the ship dived between the two sides of the gully. Avar heard hull plates pinging loose as gravity tried to wrench the entire ship apart.
She gripped the arms of her chair. Hard.
And then the pressure was easing.
The ship was leveling out.
Yet they were still coming in too fast. The sheer walls of the gully were flitting by, the engines screaming in protest…
Avar’s breath caught in her throat.
And then they were touching down at the bottom of the narrow valley, with a lightness that seemed entirely at odds with their startling descent.
The ship settled, issuing a pneumatic sigh.
Belin released the controls and leaned back in his seat, webbing his fingers behind his head. “Ah. Still got it.” He looked deeply satisfied with himself.
KC-78 emitted a flurry of angry beeps and squeals, which Avar was certain were the droid equivalent of cusswords.
She breathed. “Well, that was certainly an experience.”
Belin flashed her a toothy grin. “You’re not the only one who knows a few tricks.”
“So it seems.” Avar eased herself out of her seat, taking a moment to find her feet. “So, we’re here. On Hetzal.”
“Despite the odds,” said Belin. “But we can’t be certain we weren’t seen coming in. We gave it our best shot, and thanks to your droid we seem to have the right protocols…but we’ve no way of knowing that the Nihil aren’t scrambling an intercept team right now.”
Avar nodded. She knew the risks. “I’m going to take a look outside.” She walked through the ship, punched the access controls, and waited for the disembarkation ramp to slide into position.
Everything was peaceful, quiet. The scents of Hetzal swirled in her nostrils, heady and familiar.
Cautiously, she descended the ramp.
Down here, at the bottom of the narrow valley, a small river cascaded down over pillars of ancient ebon stone, slick and smooth, misting a thin veil of water into the surrounding air. Everywhere, plant life bloomed, fresh and green, with willowy trees that reached up for the thin shafts of light falling from above and a thick carpet of emerald moss underfoot.
Multi-hued birds danced and wheeled, chirruping brightly and fluttering their wings as they bickered over hanging fruit.
In ages past a winding stairway had been chiseled into the steep wall of the gully, the stone steps now enveloped by more of the clinging moss and tangled in hanging vines bearing purple star-shaped flowers.
It was utterly beautiful.
“What now?”
Avar glanced at Belin, who’d come down from the ship to stand beside her, admiring the view. “It’s almost time. The coordinates in Rhil’s message specified a meeting point just beyond the gully over there.” She indicated the steps with a wave of her hand. “Time to meet the welcoming committee.”
“And what if they’re not so welcoming after all?”
Avar patted her lightsaber hilt. “If I’m not back in two hours, leave without me and don’t look back. And promise me you’ll take good care of Kaysee.”
Belin shook his head. “I’m coming with you.”
“Not this time, Belin. You’ve risked enough. If this turns out to be a trap, then at least I’ll know that you and Kaysee got away safely. If it isn’t—and I hope it isn’t—there’ll be plenty of time later to make friends with Rhil and her dubious contact later.”
“I dunno, Jedi. Seems like an awfully big risk…”
“Exactly. The sort of risk I’ve been trained to handle,” said Avar. “I’m not backing down on this one, Belin. I need to know you’re safe.” She glanced up at the ridge at the top of the gully, hands on her hips. “And besides, you’re my only escape plan. I need you here with the ship in case we need to make a run for it.”
Belin huffed a heavy sigh. “All right. If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Then you’d better make a start.” He gestured to the stairway. “That’s a hell of a climb.”
Avar laughed. And started for the bottom step.
CORUSCANT
“I thought you might have sought me out before now,” said Lina Soh as, later that evening, she and Elzar took a private stroll around the chancellor’s formal gardens, high up on the rooftops of the Senate complex. “Especially after the way things ended with our guest, earlier.”
“I’m sorry,” said Elzar. “I had a pressing matter to attend to with Masters Agra and Ki-Sakka.”
In truth, the debrief with the other Jedi had been swift and pointed. None of them believed Ghirra’s stories of prosperity and peace, and all suspected there was more to her proposal than could so far be ascertained. Neither did they believe for a moment the claims that Marchion Ro was content to change his ways and settle for a nonviolent end to his campaign. Everything they knew about Ro suggested he would be unwilling to set aside his apparent deep-seated hatred of the Jedi, particularly when he held in his hands a weapon that could defeat them. The Nihil had the upper hand.
Afterward, Elzar had retreated to his chambers to meditate, but he’d found no answers there, either. And so he’d come to find the chancellor, to see what conclusions she had been able to draw.
“Of course,” said Soh, although there was an edge to her voice, as if she were questioning what could be more pressing than Ghirra Starros and the decision she was facing about the future of the Nihil and the Senate.
He thought to remind her that he was a Jedi, not a politician, but decided against it. The words would seem harsher than they were intended. There was no need to trouble someone who was already facing one of the most difficult decisions of her life.
The thought made him smile. Perhaps he was becoming more of a politician than he thought.
You’d be proud of me, Stellan.
He hoped that was true.
Elzar looked up, seeking answers among the stars. They formed a canopy above the winding trail of Panshan blossom trees and carefully manicured lawns that made up the sweet-smelling garden. This high above the city, the incessant traffic was almost out of earshot.
“There’s some sense in what she’s proposing,” he said, cutting straight to the point. “About undermining Ro by awarding him legitimacy. If you were to bring them into the fold, they’d have to at least pretend to play by the rules. And we’d be able to keep a better eye on them and what they’re doing in the Occlusion Zone.”
“The Senate would be divided,” said Soh. “As would the galaxy.”
“And the Jedi,” said Elzar. “Although I fear the division would not be equal. I don’t anticipate much support for the notion among members of the Council, not after talking with Masters Agra and Ki-Sakka, who both question the validity of Ghirra’s claims. Although they often surprise me, and I do not speak for them. You’ll have to ask them yourself if you seek their guidance.”
“Spoken like a true politician, Elzar.” Soh stopped beneath the boughs of a tall tree. Petals drifted around her in the breeze. It was rare to see her looking so vulnerable, without her usual targons, her guards, or the cold steel of the persona she usually wore, even around Elzar. Here, now, she just looked like a woman who faced a difficult choice and didn’t know what to do.
“I know this hasn’t been easy for you. For any of us. But I value your friendship. And I would hear what you really think.”
Elzar met her gaze. “I…” He hesitated, stumbling on his words.
“I’m not asking you to make the decision for me, Elzar. Or to tell me what you think is the right answer. I just want to know how you feel. What you would do in my situation.”
Elzar rubbed at his beard. “She can’t be trusted.” He moistened his lips. “There are wheels within wheels, and we are yet to understand them all. Perhaps Ghirra is looking for legitimacy for herself, not for Marchion Ro. Whether he has sanctioned her visit or not, I do not believe that Ro will be satisfied with a diplomatic solution to all this. He’s a terrorist who thrives on chaos, who hates the Jedi and the Republic with everything he’s worth. Why would he stop now?”
Soh nodded. “I agree. This could be a power play. Perhaps Ghirra senses an opportunity to elevate her own standing within the Nihil, and to distance herself from their crimes.”
“And to use us as leverage,” added Elzar.
“Nevertheless, it may still provide us with an opportunity. If we can stomach it.”
“And that is?”
“Peace, of a sort. A truce, perhaps. And information. We have no idea what’s going on behind the Stormwall, but I don’t for a moment think that it’s all sweetness and light, as Ghirra would have us believe.” She paused, picking blossoms off her shoulder. “There are people in there who need our help. Whole worlds and civilizations that are being held for ransom. Lost family and friends…”
Avar…
He looked away.
“Tempting, isn’t it?” said Soh.
“How do we know it’s not another of Ro’s ploys? An attempt to put someone inside the Senate for the same reason you’ve described. To get information. To understand our inner workings so they can be exploited.”
