The Crystal Star (16 page)

our homes. When the Emperor ruled, our only protection was bribery and blackmail.

When the Emperor ruled, I required great sums to protect my homeworld from raids, to protect my

friends from death, to save their children from the press gangs. And even then... sometimes my efforts

were not sufficient." Her voice broke. Han touched her wrist.

She twisted her hand so her fingers curled around his; she pressed his hand briefly, then released him.

"Yeah," he said. "I remember how it was." "So, you see," Xaverri said, in control of her voice once more,

"thanks to the Republic, I no longer need huge sums." She grinned. "Only moderate sums." "How much

farther?" Luke asked suddenly.

"It is still some distance," Xaverri said. "Are you tired, Jedi?" "I'm curious," Luke said.

"Be patient, kid," Han said. Just like the old days, when Luke had been restless and eager as well as

green. In recent years, he had developed the ability to fall into a preternatural calm. Han found it

disturbing.

They continued on through the garden maze, walking in silence. The path through the bushes grew

narrower, lower; Han had to stoop, and the branches scraped against Threepio's purple lacquer with

short, high-pitched screeches.

Han's back started to hurt, and the march no longer reminded him so much of the good old days.

Finally, when he was about to give up and call for a rest, the tunnel ended at the side of the translucent

dome. Xaverri ducked through an opening and disappeared. Han followed, stiffly.

Behind him, Luke's robe rustled quietly against the ground as he stooped.

"Wait, please, I do not bend well that way," Threepio said. He clanked against the edge of the dome

material, scraped through, and joined them on the other side. He clambered to his feet.

Han peered into the new dome. It was almost as dim as the green illumination of the leaf tunnel.

But the eerie greenness had possessed a quality of life and growth. Here the twilight was oppressive.

Great gray stones loomed around them. The rocks perched on the edge of a cliff: the steep and partially

collapsed side of a huge crater.

Xaverri edged over the top of a great cracked stone. Han slithered up beside her. From their vantage

point they could see the whole dome.

Its floor lay far below. A small complex of buildings occupied the center of the crater. The buildings were

gilt, and brightly lit: the only spot of light and color in Han's view. The delicate lines of the complex traced

calligraphy against stone.

Han wondered what the pattern might mean.

Several rough paths led into the crater. On all of them, people picked their way across the desolate lava

toward the haven. A constant stream of people from many worlds entered the compound, and no one

was leaving.

"That is our destination," Xaverri said.

"What are we looking for? Why's it so special?" She shook her head and refused to answer.

"If you do not see it for yourself, you will not believe." Luke started forward, heading for a space

between two rocks. Xaverri slid quickly down from her perch. She barely touched his sleeve, then

snatched her hand back. Luke had already stopped within the protective concealment of the stones.

Han jumped down beside them. "Kid, what's the matter?" Luke was pale and tense, his gaze far away.

One hand rested on the grip of his lightsaber.

Threepio bent solicitously toward Luke.

He laid one long purple finger against Luke's forehead. Luke shook his head, barely distracted, jerking

himself away from Threepio's touch.

"I fear Master Luke has contracted some ailment," Threepio said. "His temperature is abnormally low.

Perhaps some form of landfall disorder--" "Threepio," Luke said patiently, "your sensor's covered with

purple paint, that's all." Chagrined, Threepio inspected the tip of his finger.

"But Threepio's right," Han said. "You look awful. What's wrong?" "I... I don't know," Luke said.

"Something... there's something here, but I've never..." He started away again, as if he had never begun

the conversation.

"Jedi!" Xaverri said.

Reluctantly, Luke glanced back.

"Let me lead you," she said. "I am accepted. And there is an easy path, farther along the rim... I would

prefer no one else knew of this escape." Luke glanced between the stones, as if he might leap between

them, slip over the edge of the cliff, ignore the faint steep twisting path, and plunge straight down.

And he probably could do it, Han thought.

"Very well," Luke said.

Tigris answered Lord Hethrir's summons to his receiveg chamber. He carried the child Anakin, who slept

more than any little one Tigris had ever met.

Hethrir had built his private receiveg chamber from the finest wood of all the old Empire. Body-wood,

they called it. It resembled the flesh of the people who had inhabited the forest, before the Emperor

claimed the world. To his most favored officers he had dispensed the right to exploit certain resources.

Hethrir's reward had been the license to export body-wood. Lord Hethrir had begun his fortune from the

license. But he used the wood profligately for himself as well. The walls and floor and ceiling of the

chamber glowed with it.

The surface of the polished body-wood was the palest pink. Scarlet streaks shot through it, gleaming

with light, like cut and polished precious stones. Tigris always thought the wood looked alive, and indeed

it was said that the body-wood trees sustained a certain intelligence. It was said that they cried, when

Hethrir cut them down.

Tigris almost believed that they cried. He knew their wood bled. He had the task, the honor, of cleaning

up the scarlet rivulets before they pooled on the floor and stained it.

When will Lord Hethrir allow me to do something important? Tigris wondered. Tigris shifted Anakin to a

more comfortable position in his aching arms.

Tigris had been moved and impressed by the promotion ceremony, but he resented being left out.

He wondered when Lord Hethrir would sell him, along with the other inferior children. He could not even

pass the first te/! He was desperately grateful that his lord had allowed him to stay this long.

In the receiveg chamber, Lord Hethrir welcomed his guests. Lord Qaqquqqu, Lady Ucce, and Lord

Cnorec bowed low. Hethrir acknowledged their respect with a simple nod. He sat in a chair of gold and

fur and satin pillows. He glanced at Tigris and gestured with his chin toward a small rug on the floor

beside him.

Thrilled, Tigris took his seat. He had never been permitted to sit at Lord Hethrir's feet before!

As Tigris sat down, Anakin stirred and woke. Careful of the precious burden of the child, Tigris tried to

hide his terror. What if he did something wrong, what if he dropped Anakin, or caused him to cry?

But Anakin looked into Tigris's eyes, stuck his thumb in his mouth, snuggled against Tigris's shoulder, and

fell asleep again.

The guests approached Hethrir, making a second set of obeisances.

"This one is rather young, is it not, Lord Hethrir?" Lord Qaqquqqu asked, gesturing toward Anakin,

smiling wide to show he was joking.

"Yes, too young," Lord Hethrir said easily. "We shall have to let it grow--or send it back to where it

came from." "Back, my lord?" Lady Ucce exclaimed.

"Would that be wise--" She cut off her comment a moment too late, as she realized what an insult she

had offered to Lord Hethrir. "I mean to say--oh, of course, how silly of me, of course you meant you

would wipe its memory and then put it back. You are so wise." "Or you may allow me to have it," Lord

Cnorec said. "I think it is adorable. You would not be troubled with it, and I would make it worth your

while." "I will keep it," Lord Hethrir said. "It amuses me. You need not worry that it will reveal your

existence--or your profession--ffthe New Republic." All three guests bowed a third time.

Tigris watched with awe as Lord Hethrir's ^ws, ^ws alone, controlled the guests. He toyed with them,

for of course he had no intention of giving Anakin to anyone. The child was the key to his plans.

The guests feared Lord Hethrir, though each one owned an armed ship, perhaps even a fleet of ships.

Hethrir's guests had saved themselves and their resources from the fall of the Empire. They had hidden

themselves, and their great riches, and followers, and starships, invisible to the perception of the usurpers.

They gave their allegiance to Lord Hethrir.

When the Lord was ready, when the Empire Reborn vanquished the New Republic, he would become

Emperor. These guests and all his other followers would acknowledge him publicly.

Tigris wanted to be at his side when that happened. He wanted to wear the palest blue coat of the

Empire Youth, or the light blue bemedaled uniform of a Proctor, or even the rust-colored tunic of a

helper.

He wanted the Lord to acknowledge him.

Anakin shifted in his arms. Tigris smoothed the little boy's hair and whispered to him, to keep him from

disturbing Lord Hethrir's meeting.

I must prove myself, Tigris thought. I must prove that I'm worth more than a nursemaid!

"My time is short today," Lord Hethrir said.

"Let us conclude our business quickly." An image formed between the guests and the glowing wall of

body-wood. The image displayed the children culled from the training group. The guests inspected them.

"Soon," Hethrir said, "we will travel to Crseih Station to secure my alliance with Waru. My followers are

gathering now. Each one will wish to choose from among these children." He gestured to the image. The

guests examined the children dispassionately.

"You may bid against each other for the license to distribute." Lord Hethrir named the sum at which the

bidding must start. He smiled and pointed to the ugly black-on-black fanged creature, now Anakin's pet.

"That one is not sentient, so I will give it free to whichever of you wins the license." "Good woof," Anakin

said softly.

The guests glanced at each other uneasily, then back at Hethrir. Even Tigris was shocked by the

magnitude of the amount Hethrir demanded.

But Lord Hethrir is always fair, Tigris thought. The group he offers is exceptional, of course--and it will

seal the treaty with Waru!

"That is a large amount..." Lord Cnorec let his voice trail off without even adding the honorifics due Lord

Hethrir.

Hethrir frowned.

"My lord!" Lord Cnorec added quickly.

"Have I not been good to you, Cnorec?" "Yes, my lord!" "Have you not prospered through your

association with me?" "Yes, Lord Hethrir! B--" Lord Cnorec stopped himself, too late.

""But,"' Cnorec? "B"' what?" "Nothing, my lord." Hethrir gazed at Lord Cnorec in silence.

Cnorec broke before Hethrir's gaze. "I only meant... we grow tired of working in secret, my lord! We

grow tired of waiting for the rebirth of the Empireffwas "You doubt me, Cnorec," Hethrir said softly.

"Not at all, my lord! I only wish--I only hope--" He gasped for breath. "I anticipate living--" He struggled

to draw air into his lungs. his--bbn--yr--" His face grew red, and a tiny trickle of blood flowed from one

nostril. He touched it and looked at his stained hand in disbelief. his--yr--rule!" He collapsed and lay still.

Tigris stared at him, horrified that he would question Lord Hethrir, shocked by his punishment.

Lord Hethrir made no gesture, no command, yet two Proctors appeared, lifted Lord Cnorec's body, and

carried him from the receiveg room.

Stunned, Lady Ucce and Lord Qaqquqqu tried without success to fasten their gazes elsewhere, to

behave as if they had not witnessed their colleague and rival's downfall and death.

"He should have been patient a moment longer," Hethrir said pleasantly. "The Empire Reborn is at hand."

Lady Ucce and Lord Qaqquqqu reacted with surprise and awe and anticipation. Lord Cnorec was

forgotten.

"You may consider part of your bid as a contribution to the success of the Empire Reborn," Hethrir said.

"I will bid," said Lady Ucce.

Lord Qaqquqqu countered Lady Ucce's bids inexorably. The winner of the auction would be in Hethrir's

good graces. The loser might well follow Lord Cnorec.

But when the bidding reached double the original amount, Lord Qaqquqqu began to sound nervous.

"I beg your forgiveness, Lord Hethrir," he finally said. "I cannot obtain such a sum in good time to pay

you." "To contribute to the Empire Reborn," Lord Hethrir said softly.

"Of course I always intended to make a contribution," Lord Qaqquqqu said, "beyond what I might have

bid." He named a sum half the original price, then quickly doubled it when he noticed the minuscule lift of

Lord Hethrir's eyebrow. He made a low bow to Lord Hethrir.

"Please accept this contribution to our cause." Lord Qaqquqqu turned to Lady Ucce. "You have bested

me, madam." Lord Hethrir made a slight, and elegant, motion of acceptance.

Lady Ucce had won the auction, the group of children, the right to offer them to the Empire loyalists in

Lord Hethrir's treaty gathering. If any remained, she could sell them into the trade.

Though the trade supported Lord Hethrir's achievements, Tigris pitied anyone who could only command

loyalty by owning a person's body.

Such people enslaved other beings. Lord Hethrir, now... Lord Hethrir freed beings into his service.

Tigris felt sorry for the children in the group that Lord Hethrir had just sold. Not because they had been

sold. That was their fate, if they were not suited to serve Lord Hethrir directly. He felt sorry for them