The Hand Of Thrawn Duology_ Specter Of The Past Part 18

"I can't match the influence of these signatures," Leia warned, gesturing toward her datapad. "Besides"-she hesitated, looking again at Fey'lya-"I'm not sure I don't agree with them that this is a reasonable compromise."

"A compromise?" Fey'lya asked, his voice dead. "This is not a compromise, Councilor Organa Solo. This is a sentence of ruin for the Bothan people."

"The three of us are alone in this room, Councilor Fey'lya," Gavrisom reminded him mildly.

"There's no need for rhetorical hyperbole."

Fey'lya looked at the Calibop, his eyes as dead as his voice. "I speak neither rhetoric nor hyperbole, President Gavrisom," he said. "Perhaps you do not comprehend how much time and effort would be involved in even merely locating an uninhabited world that would be suitable for the remaining Caamasi." His fur rippled. "But then to further insist that we bear the costs of reforming that world to Caamas's original specifications? We cannot possibly afford such an undertaking."

"I'm familiar with the likely costs of such a project," Gavrisom countered, his tone still patient. "It was done at least five times during the Old Republic-"

"By peoples arrogant in their power and their wealth," Fey'lya snapped, suddenly seething to life. "The Bothan people have neither such power nor such wealth."

Gavrisom shook his mane. "Come now, Councilor, let us be honest here. The current state of overall Bothan a.s.sets is quite adequate to cover such a project. Certainly it would be a serious sacrifice, but not a ruinous one. I would further suggest that it represents your best chance of resolving this matter quickly and peaceably."

Fey'lya's fur rippled stiffly across his body. "You do not understand," he said quietly.

"The a.s.sets you speak of do not exist."

Leia frowned. "What are you talking about? I've seen the market reports. There are whole pages of listings of Bothan holdings."

Fey'lya looked her in the eye. "They are lies," he said. "It is nothing more than a cleverly contrived datapad illusion."

Leia looked at Gavrisom. The other's restless wings had suddenly stopped moving. "Are you saying," the Calibop asked carefully, "that the leaders of the Combined Bothan Clans are engaged in fraud?"

The Bothan's rippling fur became even stiffer. "It was to be only a temporary deception,"

he said, his voice dark with pleading. "As our financial troubles themselves are only temporary. A gripful of bad business decisions has drained the Combined Clans of their resources and left us deeply in debt And then this controversy arrived, causing even more uncertainty. New investors and contacts were needed, and so . .

He trailed off. "I see," Gavrisom said. His voice was still calm, but there was an expression on that long face that Leia had never seen there before. "You put me in a most awkward position, Councilor Fey'lya. How exactly do you suggest I proceed?"

Fey'lya's violet eyes met the Calibop's pale blue ones. "We can recover, President Gavrisom," he said. "It will just take a little time. Premature revelation of this information would be devastating, not only for the Bothan people but also for those who have invested with us."

"Who have trusted you," Gavrisom corrected coldly.

Fey'lya's eyes slipped away from that accusing glare. "Yes," he murmured. Who have trusted us."

For a long minute the room was silent. Then, rustling his mane again, Gavrisom looked at Leia. "You are a Jedi Knight, Councilor Organa Solo," he said. "As such, you have the wisdom of the ages and the guidance of the Force. I would ask your recommendation."

Leia sighed. "I wish I had one to give," she said.

"Have you made any progress in the search for the names of the Bothans involved with Caamas?"

"Not yet," Leia said. "Our Intelligence people are still working on the original datacard, but Crypt Chief Ghent tells me we already have everything we're going to get from it.

We're also searching through the old Imperial archives at Kamparas, Boddolayz, and Obroa-skai, but so far we haven't found anything."

"It was probably kept in the Special Files section," Gavrisom said with a whinnying sigh.

"The records Imperial forces were ordered to destroy before retreating."

"Probably," Leia said. "We're still hoping a copy somewhere might have survived."

"A small hope, though."

"Yes," Leia had to concede. "Fey'lya, how much time will the Combined Clans need to get back on their feet?"

"The current projection is to have our major debts retired within three months," the Bothan said. "But at that time we will still be far from the financial position we are currently thought to be in."

Gavrisom made a noise deep in his throat. "And how long until you'd be able to take on this kind of project?" Leia asked, tapping her datapad.

Fey'lya closed his eyes. "Perhaps ten years. Perhaps never."

Leia looked back at Gavrisom. "I wish I could offer you advice, President Gavrisom," she said. "But at the moment I can't see a clear path here."

"I understand," Gavrisom said. "May I encourage you to meditate and seek further guidance through the Force?"

"I'll certainly do that," Leia a.s.sured him. "The one thing that is clear, though, is that the Bothans aren't going to be able to meet the demands of this pet.i.tion anytime soon."

"Indeed," Gavrisom said heavily. "I'll have to attempt to buy some time."

"How, by offering it for debate?" Leia asked doubtfully. "That could be risky."

"More than merely risky," Gavrisom agreed. "If someone decided to bring it up as an official bill, the full Senate could end up ratifying it. At that point I would have no maneuvering room at all."

Leia grimaced. No room for Gavrisom, and even less for the Bothans. They would then have to go ahead and create a new homeworld for the Caamasi or face the consequences of defying New Republic law.

"But as you know, the President is not entirely without resources," the Calibop continued.

"And there are certain parliamentary tricks that can be applied. I should be able to hold this up for a while."

Leia looked at Fey'lya. "But not for the next ten years."

"No." There was another brief silence. "Well," Gavrisom said. "There seems to be little we can do right now. Except for one thing: I want the Combined Clans' financial records examined to confirm that the situation is indeed as described. Councilor Organa Solo, would you be willing to travel to Bothawui for such a purpose?"

"Me?" Leia asked, surprised. "I'm not a financial expert."

"Yet you surely must have been taught the basics by your father Bail Organa when you were younger," Gavrisom pointed out.

"The basics, yes," Leia said. "But that's all."

"That will be all you need," Gavrisom a.s.sured her. "The trickery will be in the falsified doc.u.ments, not the true ones." He gestured to Fey'lya with one wing. "She will be allowed to see the true ones, will she not?"

"Of course," Fey'lya said, his fur rippling unhappily. "I'll alert the Combined Clan leaders you will be coming."

"You'll do no such thing," Gavrisom said firmly. "They are to have no notice whatsoever."

Fey'lya's eyes flashed. "You insult the integrity of the clan leaders, President Gavrisom."

"You may see it any way you choose," Gavrisom said. "But they are to have no advance warning. And do not forget that Councilor Organa Solo is a Jedi Knight. If your clan leaders are not genuinely surprised by her arrival and request, she will be instantly aware of it."

Leia kept her face expressionless. In point of fact, she'd always found the average Bothan somewhat difficult to read, and wasn't at all sure she'd be able to tell if the clan leaders had been tipped off.

But of course Fey'lya didn't know that. "I understand," he muttered. "When do you wish her to leave?"

"As soon as possible," Gavrisom said. "Councilor Organa Solo?"

"We could probably leave within a couple of hours," Leia said, running quickly through a mental list of the necessary arrangements. Han would want to come along, of course. Come to think of it, it would be a good chance for the two of them to have same quiet time together. "Chewie and the Noghri can watch the children here for us."

"The Noghri," Fey'lya murmured, an edge of bitterness to his voice. "They should have killed that Devaronian on Wayland. Then none of this would have happened."

"The Devaronian did nothing deserving of death," Gavrisom said quietly. "And there has been far too much killing throughout the galaxy already."

"With more yet to come," Fey'lya countered darkly. Would sacrificing one life to prevent it have been such a bad bargain?"

"That is a question all beings eventually ask themselves," Gavrisom said. "For those who wish to remain civilized, there can be only one answer." He settled his wings back into resting position across his withers and back. "Thank you both for coming, Councilors. I will speak with you again later."

Moff Disra laid down his datapad. "Very satisfactory," he said, looking at the others. "It all seems to be going quite well."

"It all seems to be going quite slowly," Flim countered sourly, leaning back in his seat with his feet hoisted up on a corner of Disra's ivrooy desk. We have, what, a few pirate raids and maybe a hundred riots to our credit?"

"Patience is a virtue," Tierce reminded him. "Even for soldiers. Especially for soldiers."

"Ah, well, that must be the problem," Flim countered. "I'm a con artist, not a soldier.

But I can tell you that in my world, you can't afford to string things out too long. You have to hook the target, taut the line, and then boat him-zip, zip, zip. You give him too much time to think, and you'll lose him."

"We're not going to lose them," Tierce soothed. "Trust me. This is a delicate stew we're creating. It merely needs to simmer a bit longer."

"Then maybe you should turn up the heat a little," Flim said. "This is my greatest role ever; and so far the only people who've seen it have been the two of you and four Star Destroyer captains. When do I get to really show it off?"

"Keep it up and you may not get to show it off at all," Disra told him, trying hard to hold on to his temper. Flim was starting to show all the eccentricities and quirks of a self-important stage entertainer, a personality type Disra had always despised.

"Don't worry," Tierce soothed. "You'll get your chance for at least a private performance for the Rebels. But not until we know where it will do the most good. We need to know which alien governments are for heavy sanctions against the Bothans and which are for forgiveness and peaceful conciliation."

"Which means you'll probably be showing off for a Mon Calamari or a Duros," Disra growled, glaring under his eyebrows at Tierce. This particular scheme was one of the Guardsman's latest brain twists, and Disra still wasn't at all sure he approved of it. The whole idea here was to use Flim to quietly inspire their Imperial forces, not scare the New Republic into coming down on their heads.

"Actually, the time is much closer than it looks," Tierce went on, ignoring Disra's comment. "Our spies on Coruscant have heard rumors of some pet.i.tion that's been filed with the President. If they can get hold of a copy and circulate it publicly, that should speed up the process. A few more days, I think, and we'll be able to move on to the next phase."

"I hope so," Flim said. "Incidentally, I presume it's occurred to you that there's a very simple way the New Republic could resolve this whole crisis and cut the ground out from under us."

"Of course it has," Disra said with strained patience. "All they need to do is find out which specific Bothans were involved with Palpatine's agents on Caamas."

"And you've taken steps to prevent this from happening?"

"What do you take me for, a fool?" Disra snapped. "Of course I have. The only intact set of records is here on Bastion, and I've already dealt with them."

"Actually, that's not entirely accurate," Tierce said thoughtfully. "The records at the Ubiqtorate base on Yaga Minor may also contain a copy."

Disra frowned at him. "Why haven't you said anything about this before?"

"The subject of enemy information raids hadn't come up before," Tierce said. "I knew you'd been into the Bastion records; I suppose I was a.s.suming you'd taken care of the Yaga Minor copies as well."

"I haven't, but I can," Disra said. "I'll head out for Yaga Minor tonight."

"That might not be a good idea," Tierce said. "You going personally, I mean. The general in charge of the base knows Admiral Pellaeon fairly well and with the Bastion library right here at hand, you really don't have a good excuse to examine his records."

Disra frowned at him. "So who's going to go there? You?"

"I am the logical choice," Tierce pointed out. "General Hestiv doesn't know me by either name or sight, and I can make up a story that won't link me to you. As long as Pellaeon's grand tour of the Empire doesn't drop him there the same time I am, there shouldn't be any problems."

"Except how you're going to get into the Special Files section," Disra said.

Tierce shrugged. "I'll use a copy of your decryption method, of course."

Disra frowned a little harder. "You know, this is the second time you've tried to get that decrypt from me," he pointed out. "One might wonder why you're so anxious to get hold of it."

"Would you rather the Rebels got to the Caamas Doc.u.ment first?" Tierce countered. "What in the Empire are you so afraid of, anyway?"

"I'm not sure," Disra said darkly. "Perhaps that all you really want-that all you've ever wanted from the start-is to get your nose into those files. Maybe I'm thinking that once you've gotten whatever it is you're looking for, you'll vanish and leave us holding the bag."

Tierce smiled tightly. "A minute ago you were upset that I seem to be taking over your grand project," he pointed out "Now you're worried that I might suddenly desert it? Make up your mind."

"You haven't answered my question," Disra bit out "What is it you're looking for in those files?"

"I don't know," Tierce said. "The Emperor had many secrets, some of which are bound to be useful to us. But I can't know which ones until I have a chance to look them over, can I?"

"If it's all that simple and aboveboard, why didn't you suggest it in the first place?"

Disra demanded. "I could have let you look through the Bastion records."

"Fine," Tierce said. "Consider the request made. However, if I go look at the files at Yaga Minor I can take care of two problems at once, can't I?"

Disra grimaced. Except that if Tierce did his searching at Yaga Minor, he wouldn't be able to look over the Guardsman's shoulder while he did it.

Across the desk, Flim stirred. "We're all in this together, Your Excellency," he reminded Disra. "Whatever secrets Major "Fierce digs up, he can't possibly use them by himself as effectively as he can together with the two of us."

"Exactly," Tierce said, nodding. "In fact, I'll go further. One of the files I'm hoping to find will only be useful in conjunction with the two of you."

So there has something specific he was after. "And that mysterious secret is . .

. ?" Disra prompted.

Tierce shook his head. "Sorry. I'll definitely need help from the two of you to utilize it; but it's possible the two of you won't need me. No offense, but at this point I'd prefer to remain indispensable."

Disra grimaced, but he could tell that this part of the conversation was now over. He'd pushed Tierce as far as the Guardsman was willing to be pushed, and had learned all he was likely to learn, and that was it.

At least for now. "You're still indispensable as the master tactician of our little group," Disra reminded him, waving a hand in dismissal. "But if this will make you feel a little safer-"