Clone Wars Gambit: Siege (23 page)

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Authors: Karen Miller

Tags: #Fiction, #SciFi, #Star Wars, #Galactic Republic Era, #Clone Wars

BOOK: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege
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Bail opened his mouth to answer, to apologize, but Yoda’s raised hand stopped him.

“Supreme Chancellor, a tragedy this is,” the ancient Jedi agreed. “Great sorrow do we all feel for the loss of innocent life. But it is a war we are fighting, that choose to fight we did not. Without compassion or compunction is our enemy. Blamed for their cruelty we cannot be.”

“No,” said Palpatine. “But blamed for your silence you can and
will
be. If you had told me as soon as you learned of it that this dreadful weapon was being developed—”

“Prevent its use how, would you, Supreme Chancellor?” said Yoda.

Stunned, Bail looked at him. What was he thinking?
Nobody
interrupted Palpatine. He waited for the Supreme Chancellor’s angry repsonse—but it didn’t come. Instead Palpatine pinched his lips tight.

Yoda sighed. “Know the answer we both do. Send for me you would have. Request of the Jedi this weapon’s destruction you would have. Attempt to prevent this tragedy we would have. Attempt to prevent it we
did.

“And you
failed
, Master Yoda!” Palpatine retorted. “You failed and now thousands of Chandrilans and other Republic citizens lie dead in the streets, their bodies so horrifically mutilated they might never be identified. And the damage this will do to Republic morale—the fear that will run like wildfire from world to world—I’m not sure you understand, Master Yoda. Fear can be a plague, and
I
fear a veritable pandemic. Now you tell me—what are you going to do about that?”

Yoda stood straighter, and lifted his chin. “Trust I will that complete their mission Master Kenobi and young Skywalker can.”

Palpatine stared. “You believe they’re still alive?”

“Know it I do, Supreme Chancellor,” said Yoda. “Their deaths would I feel. Believe that you must.”

“Then that is surely the only good news to come out of this sorry business,” Palpatine murmured. “And bearing that in mind—from now on I’m going to take an active interest in this affair. While I had hoped that Anakin and Master Kenobi could thwart Lok Durd’s ambitions, clearly my optimism was misplaced. As much as it pains me to admit it—and while I am in no way questioning Anakin’s valor, or Master Kenobi’s, either—I have no choice but to accept that this time the task of saving the situation is beyond them. Therefore we must intervene. I want Lanteeb liberated from Separatist control, immediately. Only the warships protecting Kothlis are exempt from redeployment. That situation remains too volatile to jeopardize.”

Bail folded his hands before him, making sure to present a respectful demeanor. “Supreme Chancellor, we all want to avoid a repeat of what’s happened on Chandrila. But I’m not sure how quickly we can redeploy the fleet, especially given the ongoing comms—”

“I have no interest in your excuses, Senator!” said Palpatine. “Can it be that you don’t grasp the severity of our predicament? You knew this weapon was ready to be used and you could not prevent Lok Durd from deploying it. Stars above, you couldn’t even keep him safely in
custody
. And
because
you could do neither of those things I am now tasked with calming a Republic that has just watched thousands of its citizens perish in unspeakable agony. Worse, I have to face them in the Senate and
lie
. I have to tell them they have nothing to fear because I have complete confidence that the Jedi will hunt down and apprehend the perpetrators of this monstrous crime.”

“Apprehend them we will, Supreme Chancellor,” said Yoda, emotionless. “A lie that is not.”

“I’m sure you’ll try,” said Palpatine, sounding anything but convinced. “But unless you can tell me you’ve seen a successful outcome in the Force, I must proceed upon the assumption that your continued failure is as likely, if not more likely, than your success.
Can
you guarantee me success, Master Yoda?”

Bail dropped his gaze to the carpet. Never had he heard Palpatine upbraid Yoda like this. How distraught must he be to chastise his most important and valuable ally in their desperate fight for the Republic’s survival? How shaken was his confidence in the Jedi?

How shaken is his confidence in me?

Yoda resettled his grasp on his gimer stick. “Seen in the Force the outcome of these events I have not, Supreme Chancellor. But faith in our ability to prevail I have.”

“Faith is all very well, Master Yoda,” said Palpatine, unyielding, “but I can’t wave it in front of the HoloNet droidcams. Nor can I display it to the Senate as proof that we are doing our jobs. Therefore my decision stands. I want that planet out of Separatist hands by any and all means necessary. Do I make myself clear?”

Yoda nodded. “You do, Supreme Chancellor.”

“And you, Senator Organa,” Palpatine snapped. “Can I trust you’ll ensure no other world suffers the same fate as Chandrila?”

“You can, Supreme Chancellor,” he said. “We won’t rest until Lok Durd is back in Republic custody and every last drop of that bioweapon is accounted for—then destroyed.”

Palpatine’s lips thinned. “I shall hold you to that oath, Senator. Now what of your scientist friend? Doctor Netzl? Surely by now he’s concocted a defense against Durd’s weapon?”

“I’m afraid not yet, Supreme Chancellor.”

“Not yet,” Palpatine echoed. “Then perhaps your faith in him is misplaced. There are many, many scientists in our grand Republic, Senator Organa. Perhaps the time has come for—”

“Forgive me, Supreme Chancellor, but no,” Bail said flatly. “Tryn Netzl is our best choice. He’s very close now. All he needs is one last breakthrough.”

Palpatine stared at him, unblinking. “Do you concur with the Senator, Master Yoda?”

“Concur I do,” said Yoda, nodding. “In Doctor Netzl do I sense great integrity and dedication. No mercy will he show himself until the answer he has found.”

Almost imperceptibly, Palpatine softened. “You like him.”

“Irrelevant my feelings are,” said Yoda. “Relevant only is what I know.”

“Truly, Supreme Chancellor, Doctor Netzl is the right scientist for this task,” Bail added. “He knows billions of lives are counting on him to succeed.”

“I am counting on him to succeed, Senator,” said Palpatine. “Tell him that when next you see him.”

“I will, sir.”

In silence Palpatine considered him and Yoda, so much wearier now than on the day of his election. Wearier, sadder, grimmer. The war was taking an unkind toll.

“You think I’ve been harsh,” he said at last. “You think I don’t understand how hard you both work to protect our precious Republic. You’re very wrong. But you misjudged this situation from the outset and now Chandrila has paid the price. I very much doubt any of us can afford another misjudgment.

“Master Yoda?” said Palpatine, shifting his gaze.

Slumped over his gimer stick, looking even older than his nine hundred years, Yoda sighed. “Put right this will be. On that you have my word as a Jedi.”

“And I accept your word,” said Palpatine. “I don’t deny you’ve disappointed me, Master Yoda—but I am not a man to hold a grudge. We must put this unfortunate misstep behind us and go forward to victory. For I do believe victory is closer to hand than we might think. Indeed, I have every faith that the future I am working so hard to bring about
will
come to pass.”

“Sadden me it does to know that disappointed you I have, Supreme Chancellor,” said Yoda, lowering his head.

“I know,” Palpatine said. “And I have no fear you’ll disappoint me again. In truth, I fear only one thing. Tell me, Master Yoda—can you bring Anakin safely home? I confess the thought of losing him is more than I can bear.”

“The Force is with him, and with Obi-Wan,” Yoda said after a long silence. “If to Coruscant they are meant to return, then return they will.”

Palpatine sat at his vast, polished desk. “And that, I suppose, is the best I can hope for.” Briefly he pressed a hand to his eyes. “Now, don’t let me detain you any longer. You have much work to do, as have I.”

Returning Yoda to the Temple, guiding his speeder along Coruscant’s clogged slipstreams of traffic, Bail risked a personal question. “Are you all right, Master?”

“This attack on Chandrila,” Yoda said softly, rubbing his head. “Created a great disturbance in the Force it has. Much fear and pain and sorrow do I feel.”

He wasn’t the only one. “I knew Palpatine would be upset, but—I wasn’t expecting him to be so aggressive. Were you?”

“The hope of billions has he become,” said Yoda. “Now look to him billions will and wonder if misplaced their hope is.”

Such was the inevitable risk of being a popular leader. “You didn’t challenge him when he blamed us for his decision to rely on Obi-Wan and Anakin.”

Yoda snorted. “Neither did you.”

“Politics?”

“Politics,” Yoda agreed. And then he snorted again. “Fond of politics I am not.”

And on days like this, Master Yoda, neither am I
.

Bail hesitated. “I haven’t told Tryn about the attack. Have you?”

“No,” said Yoda, after a moment. “But tell him I can, if see him now you cannot.”

“No, I can see him,” he said, feeling ill. “I’ve made the time. I owe him that much.”

Small in the passenger seat beside him, Yoda pursed his lips. “Responsible for this calamity you are not, Senator. Your best you have done at every turn. Ask more than that no one can. Not Palpatine, not I, not Obi-Wan Kenobi. Expect more of yourself than your best you should not.”

It was wise advice. He wished it made him feel better about the decisions he’d made, but it didn’t. On close approach to the Jedi Temple now, he throttled back and slid them into the almost empty Priority Alpha lane. Security chips beeped as the sensors recorded their positional shift.

“You know,” he said, almost to himself, “not once growing up did I think there’d come a day when I’d hold men’s lives in the palm of my hand. When I could tell a Jedi,
Go risk your life there
, and he’d go because he trusted me. We were at peace for so long. War was
unthinkable
. And now it’s all I ever think about, Master Yoda. I’ve seen things—done things—that have changed me forever. I’m no longer the man my wife married. The man who walked into our Senate Building for his first session.” He had to clear his throat. “I’m afraid.”

“Of what?” said Yoda, so gently, as they were swallowed by the shadows of the soaring Jedi Temple.

“Of forgetting the man I used to be. Of becoming someone who won’t know how not to think of war.”

Yoda shook his head. “Fear that you should not, Senator. Lost that man has not been. Put aside, yes, while dark the times are. But lost? No. Love you and know you do your wife and your friends. Let that man fall by the wayside they will not.” And then Yoda smiled. “Let him fall by the wayside
I
will not. For value that Bail Organa I do.”

Stunned to grateful silence, Bail guided the speeder up and up until he reached Yoda’s private landing platform. Then he and the Jedi Master made their way into the Temple.

“Informed I will keep you, Senator, regarding our assault on the planet,” said Yoda.

“I’d appreciate it, Master,” he said, bowing. “And of course whatever intel my investigations uncover will be passed to you straightaway.”

Yoda withdrew to take care of his pressing business, and Bail made his way to Tryn’s underground lab.

* * *


B
AIL!”

Tryn practically danced across the lab floor. The scientist was dressed in fluorescent green today, his lucky lab coat slung over a stool. His long hair was messily confined with a length of string and his eyes were their natural color, a washed-out shade of blue. Clearly he hadn’t shaved in several days, and from the jittery wildness in him Bail guessed his friend’s diet consisted of not much more than very strong caf. When he’d last slept was anyone’s guess.

“Bail, this is perfect timing,” Tryn said, his voice raspy with fatigue. “Because I’m there. Well, I’m almost there. I’ve identified the missing molecular sequence and I’ve tagged the essential properties required to complete the antidote. Now all I need to do is identify a source for those properties and—” He stepped back. The fervent light in his eyes faded, and with it his excitement. “Bail, what’s wrong?”

“Tryn—” He didn’t want to revisit the horror or destroy his friend’s fragile, fleeting triumph. He didn’t want to be the man who brought Tryn’s world crashing down.

But I am that man. That’s what I do now. To make my omelets I break other people’s eggs
.

“Durd’s used the bioweapon on Chandrila. Maybe ten thousand are dead.”

“Oh,” said Tryn blankly. “Oh.”

This was the part where he was supposed to say something encouraging, something comforting.
You can’t blame yourself, Tryn. You’re doing your best. Keep up the good work. We’ll win in the end
. But the tired old platitudes stuck in his throat. And while he didn’t blame Tryn for not having the answer already, still…

In an unexpected explosion of rage, Tryn snatched up a data-pad from the bench beside him and threw it across the lab.

“Why did you
tell
me that, Bail?” he demanded. “After days of ignoring me, why did you come all the way down here just to tell me ten thousand people are
dead?
What—did you think I needed more incentive? Did you think I wasn’t taking this
seriously
enough? Did you think you might catch me with my feet up, drinking a cocktail and smoking a cigarra and planning my next wild holiday on Umgul?”

The heavy datapad had struck the wall, shattered, and now lay in bits on the ferrocrete floor. Shocked, Bail looked from the wreckage to his friend.

“Tryn—no—of course I didn’t, that’s not why I—”

“I didn’t need to know about any attack on Chandrila!” Tryn raged, and began a furious stamping around his lab. “
Stang
, Bail, what you asked me to do is hard enough without you putting me under any
more
pressure!” He spun around, his breathing ragged. “How am I supposed to keep working, huh? How am I supposed to go on being the scientist, accepting science’s limitations, its trial-and-error approach to finding the truth, when now every time I
don’t
make that final, crucial connection I’ll hear you telling me
ten thousand people are dead!

He could feel his heart beating through every bone beneath his skin. “I never meant to do that, Tryn.”

“Then why did you tell me?” Tryn demanded. “
Why?

“Because—because I thought you’d want to know.”

“Well, guess what, Organa!” Tryn shouted. “
You thought wrong!

“Tryn, I’m sorry,” he said. “What can I do to make this right? How can I—”

“You can’t,” Tryn spat, fetching up against a lab bench crowded with a bewildering collection of pipes and beakers and test tubes and monitors. “There’s nothing you can do, Bail—except go away. So why don’t you do that? And don’t comm me. I’ll comm you.”

Bail swallowed. “All right. Only—there is one more thing.”

Tryn looked up, resentful and hostile. “
What?

“We’re launching an assault on Lanteeb. We’re taking the planet away from the Separatists.”

“Really? That’s nice. Although it’s a pity you didn’t think of doing that before ten thousand people died, isn’t it?”

And what was he supposed to say to that? There was
nothing
he could say to that. So he left Tryn to his test tubes, making sure to close the lab door softly behind him.

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